clean, waiting for the first appearance of the young soft shoots.

These, after some seven, nine, or perhaps fifteen days, according to
the weather, begin to appear in long lines of delicate pale yellowish
green. This is a most anxious time. Should rain fall, the whole surface
of the earth gets caked and hard, and the delicate plant burns out, or
being chafed against the hard surface crust, it withers and dies. If
the wind gets into the east, it brings a peculiar blight which settles
round the leaf and collar of the stem of the young plant, chokes it,
and sweeps off miles and miles of it. If hot west winds blow, the plant
gets black, discoloured, burnt up, and dead. A south wind often brings
caterpillars--at least this pest often makes its appearance when the
wind is southerly; but as often as not caterpillars find their way to
the young plant in the most mysterious manner,--no one knowing whence
they come. Daily, nay almost hourly, reports come in from all parts of
the zillah: now you hear of 'Lahee,' blight on some field; now it is
'Ihirka,' scorching, or 'Pilooa,' caterpillars. In some places the seed
may have been bad or covered with too much earth, and the plant comes
up straggling and thin. If there is abundant moisture, this must be
re-sown. In fact, there is never-ending anxiety and work at this
season, but when the plant has got into ten or fifteen leaf, and is an
inch or two high, the most critical time is over, and one begins to
think about the next operation, namely WEEDING.

The coolies are again in requisition. Each comes armed with a
_coorpee_,--this is a small metal spatula, broad-pointed, with which
they dig out the weeds with amazing deftness. Sometimes they may
inadvertently take out a single stem of indigo with the weeds: the eye
of the mate or Tokedar espies this at once, and the careless coolie is
treated to a volley of Hindoo Billingsgate, in which all his relations