46 A Sportswoman in India 



As we turned out upon the verandah the air was 

 like needles, so keen that poshteem were the greatest 

 comforts, for we drove on to the meet, about four 

 miles. I brought my poshteen home, but, like most 

 of them, it was not well enough cured to last in 

 England ; besides which a sheepskin coat with the 

 wool inside, black astrachan collar and cuffs, and 

 embroidered all over in yellow, attracted a crowd 

 in this critical country. 



Arrived at the meet, we found quite a large field, 

 and our own four syces on the look-out for us. 

 There was a great variety of horseflesh walers, 

 Persians, Arabs, country-breds, and tats of all sorts, 

 as the term is in this country. A good pony is 

 as handy as anything else for this hunt, unless there 

 is weight to be carried. 



The Master and two whips, in orthodox pink, were 

 on walers ; the kit of the rest of the field was distin- 

 guished by its sweet variety. As the sun would 

 be hot by 10 a.m., thin coats and sun-helmets were 

 de rigeur. No ambitious toilettes in snowy leathers, 

 spotless pink, and irreproachable top hats, but an 

 assortment of butcher boots of all shades of yellow 

 brown and black, and anything that would tuck into 

 them. 



Naturally, the pack itself was not out of keeping 

 with its surroundings. Hounds cannot be imported 

 into India under 16 a couple, and so, once arrived 

 in the Shiny, good, bad, or indifferent are one and 

 all exceedingly precious, and as long as they can raise 



