Next day we laid our dak for Simla, and about six o'clock in
the evening, with the Q.M.G. on the roof, and ourselves and our
possessions stowed away in the innumerable holes and corners of
the rude wooden construction called a "Dak garee," or post coach,
we took our departure. After a few mishaps with our steed, involving
the necessity of getting out to shove behind, we entered upon the
Grand Trunk Road, and with a refreshing sense of freedom and relief,
soon left Cawnpore in all its native dust and dreariness behind us.





The Pleasures of the Plains.

MAY 21, 1860. -- Being fairly under weigh, our first attention was
directed towards the machine which was to be, in a great measure, our
home for many days to come. Not overburdened with springs, and not much
to look at, though decidedly an extraordinary one to go, our conveyance
was by no means uncomfortable; and, stretched upon a mattress extending
its entire length, F. and I chatted over our plans and projects, and
star-gazed, and soon fell asleep, in spite of the ruts on the road
and the wild discordant bugling of our ragged coachman, who seemed
to consider that, however inferior in other respects, in a matter
of music we were not to be outdone, not even by Her Majesty's own
royal mail. At first sight, the necessity of trying to clear such
lonely roads as we were travelling was not altogether apparent;
but a slight acquaintance with the general principles and laws of
progression of the national Indian institution called a bullock-cart,