230 Indian Racing Reminiscences. 



and without even making a salavi, ran off as fast as his- 

 long legs could carry him. I was so disgusted with this 

 unceremonious treatment from this saucy, good-looking 

 boy, whom I really liked, that I could relieve my mind 

 only by cursing his ingratitude. My feelings, however, 

 were quickly changed, when, on driving up to the rail- 

 way station in order to continue my journey, I saw 

 Meer Khan waiting for me with an enormous bag on 

 his back containing his portable property, a thick stick 

 in his hand, and a turban tightly wound round his head,, 

 ready for the march. I inquired from him if he had got 

 leave from his master. " No," he laughed, " I just came 

 along." So off we started together. I stayed for about 

 a week in Tirhoot with my friends Charlie Webb and 

 Bob Crowdy, and then went to Calcutta to find how I 

 could proceed to Cachar, where my regiment was 

 stationed. The only particulars of my route which I 

 could learn there were that I had to go to Dacca, and 

 make further inquiries in that ancient Mahomedan 

 stronghold, which is on the banks of the Megna. At 

 Dacca I found that the only way I could get to my 

 destination was to hire a native boat and to travel in it 

 across country through the network of rivers, streams, 

 and lagoons which intersect Eastern Bengal. The after- 



