was his journey without an adventure as the following incident will
show:

Within the deep shadow of a grove of stately tamarind trees that grew
on the roadside, and distant about half a mile from a large and populous
Bheel village the tent of our young traveller had been pitched.

It was a lovely night, Corinnua in her glory diffused her soft silvery
light far and near rendering the shades of the jungle still more deep by
contrast. All was hushed in silence; the busy hum in the village had
ceased and no sound broke on the silent night, except the occasional
bark of the Parrier dog, or the cry of the lurking jackall and the
measured tread of the native sentinel, as he paced to and fro in front
of the door of the tent. The remainder of the small guard were soundly
sleeping in a little routie tent on the opposite side of the road.

Arthur had been out shooting the latter part of the afternoon and
evening, and had, as usual, taken from the village several natives as
guides and beaters. On his return he had called them to the door of his
tent, opened one of his trunks, and out of a bag, containing two or
three hundred rupees, paid them liberally for their trouble; one of the
party he noticed appeared to eye the bag with a greedy, covetous eye,
but he said nothing, and the party left, seeming well satisfied with
what they had received. After indulging in a bath he was ready for the
evening meal, which consisted of chicken, curry or broiled partridge
with several etceteras, which he washed down with a bottle of Allsopps'
pale ale, and betook himself to his easy chair and cheeroot under the
majestic Tamarinds, which were undulating gently in the soft breeze of
the evening.