Before George Lefroy reaches Delhi let us consider the situation. Cambridge under the influence of Dr. Westcott had just planted in India "the first Community Mission sent out by any University in modern times." Oxford was soon to follow, then Dublin, but much depended upon the pioneers, and without question the first Cambridge missionaries worthily created a tradition for the new movement: Lefroy was the sixth member and the youngest. Let him speak for himself, especially in regard to the magnetism of the leader of the band, Edward Bickersteth. The following lines have already appeared in Bickersteth's "Life," written in 1898:
"In Delhi, while as quite the youngest and most inexperienced member of the mission I was unable to enter so thoroughly into the plans and difficulties of our Head as the elder members, such as Murray, Carlyon, and Allnutt, yet, on the other hand, just because of my youth I was brought into specially close contact with him of another kind, acting as a kind of curate to him in several departments of our work, notably the ministerial charge of Daryaganj, one of the most important of the city districts, and also of Mehrowli, a principal out-station lying some eleven miles to the south of Delhi. After the lapse of more than fifteen years, handicapped as I am by an abnormally weak memory, I am quite unable to recall specific incidents illustrative of the relationship so established, and of what it became to me, yet I do know that in our quiet walks home, late on Sunday night, from Daryaganj to our own house, a distance of about two miles, along a road often bathed in the glorious Indian moonlight, and running between the old Mogul fort of Delhi on our right hand and the solemn and beautiful Jama Musjid on the left, while further on we passed through the historic Kashmir Gate, with its undying Mutiny associations, ideals were suggested to me, and a force of character and depth of piety brought home to me, which in those first days of my ministerial life were of simply priceless value, and to which I believe I owe more of inspiration and strength for that life than to any other individual influence outside the innermost circle of my own home. The drives out to Mehrowli, too, were full of interest and helpfulness, though that part of our work together is more saddened in recollection by its frequent connection with weakness or suffering on Bickersteth's part, for it was often resorted to when overstrain of work or fever in Delhi made some little change imperative. And how frequent such occasions were I have realised more than I ever did before by reading through, for the purpose of these notes, a diary I used to keep at that time. It is of the very barest kind and scarcely suggestive of anything of interest for my present purpose, but it is remarkable that out of a large number of allusions to Bickersteth in it nearly half consist of such remarks as 'E. B. very seedy,' 'bad night,' 'high fever,' 'headache,' or the like. In point of fact, there is no doubt that almost from the first the intense summer heat told unduly on a mind and body which was always working at the highest possible point of energy and intensity. I know that often, as we lay out on the roof at night side by side, I would turn over in a sleep which, though somewhat disturbed by the heat, had yet plenty of restorative power in it, to find Bickersteth literally gasping alongside of me, and quite unable to get to sleep at all.
"Then two distinct experiences stand out in my mind with special clearness--the one my ordination to the priesthood at Amballa, the other a walk deep into the Himalayas from Simla which Bickersteth and I took in the autumn of 1881.
"For the ordination, on Trinity Sunday, June 12, in the very greatest heat of a hot year, we stayed at the Chaplain's house. There were together for about four days before the Sunday, Bishop French, that true father in God to so many of us in the Punjab, Bickersteth, as examining chaplain, another Englishman besides myself for Priest's orders, and a native, still working with an unblemished name and very high character in one of the C.M.S. stations of the Punjab, al«a for Priest's orders.
"As in other cases, so here, in my inability to recall details I can only say that the whole time, the close contact with, and the addresses of, the saintly Bishop, the walks with Bickersteth, and his sermon at the ordination itself, formed one of the most impressive experiences of my life.
"In our Himalayan walk we were naturally brought into the closest and most continuous contact that I enjoyed during that two years and three-quarters of life together in India. Away from all the engrossing occupations and distractions of Delhi work, we were for nearly a month practically quite alone together, scarcely meeting another Englishman along the road, usually sleeping in the same room, walking, talking, playing chess together. Into this trip also, however, the experience of sickness entered, as both on our outward and homeward march we had to lie by for one or two days owing to slight attacks of, as I believe, the very same trouble which at last took him from us.
"And from all these diverse experiences, while the separate details which went to form them have passed from my mind, a figure stands out of the clearest, most impressive, most unforgettable personality possible. If I were to try and single out special features of it--which is difficult to do--I think I should give the first place to two--piety and energy.
"All he did was, as we knew and recognised instinctively, based on prayer and communion with God. His devotional addresses were full of the deepest spiritual power. One of the most distinct contributions of all that he made to the organisation of the work of the Delhi Mission was the deepening in the native agents the sense of the supreme need of earnest personal prayer, and of systematic Bible study for the efficient discharge of the very difficult work to which they were called. Additional opportunities and services for this end were afforded, while he regularly every week had any catechist, or other agent with whom he was in direct contact, to his own room for conversation and prayer together. Far as we have fallen short of his standard in this respect, I do yet hope and believe that the principles which he instilled into us, and on which he based the early life of our Brotherhood, have not been lost.
"And then there was his incessant energy of body and mind. I always think of him as living at the highest possible strain of all his powers. If he walked it was, even in the middle of the hot weather, at a pace which few cared to keep up with, at any rate without protests, uttered or thought; if he rode--and this he frequently did, though it always seemed to me as though he was not a true horseman in the sense of enjoying the riding for its own sake, but that he simply viewed it as a convenient and rapid means of getting from place to place--no grass grew under the pony's feet. So it was in his study of Urdu and Persian, so it was in every single thing he took in hand. That this intensity of disposition was, at any rate at that comparatively early part of his life, accompanied by some of the defects which almost inevitably go with that type of character cannot, I think, be doubted. There was at times a tendency to impatience, and not infrequently the worries and difficulties inseparable from a work and life such as ours, and which on some occasions became very grave indeed in connection with our position and work in Delhi, told upon him in a way that he was, I am sure, himself the first to regret.
"But, on the other hand, the spirit of high enthusiasm, the thoroughness, the devotion to work--as also to play, while he was at it--the high aims, the wise, large-hearted plans for their attainment, and the depth of personal holiness and of striving after an ever closer and closer walk with God, which were embodied in him, were both to the mission as a whole and to each of us individually an inspiration such as we can never forget, and have, especially in conjunction with his peculiar position as the first Head and one of the first founders of the mission, secured a quite unique position in the annals of the Cambridge Mission to the name of Edward Bickersteth."
Lefroy prepared himself at once specially to be an Evangelist, and I think it was a joy to him. It is not the easiest course: to be a pastor comes more naturally to most men, but this young Irishman brimful of energy and physical health girded himself with a loving and sympathetic heart to commend the Gospel to those who stood outside it. Moreover, he recognised at once that the hardest task committed to an Evangelist is to carry the Gospel to Moslems. Many faithful men, when a choice exists, turn consciously or unconsciously from the Moslem to those of another faith. The two religions which are the least attractive for aggressive work are the Jewish and the Mahommedan. Lefroy, however, did not hesitate, and became one of the outstanding authorities on missions to the Moslem world. Yet though no man ever bore a more faithful or a fuller witness to the truth as he conceived it, his generous nature, and perhaps here his Irish descent and nutnour helped him, and made him not only respected but beloved by those with whom he was engaged in controversy. It is true, I think, to say that all through his Delhi period he stood out more and more as a missionary to Moslems. He will speak for himself. My own task, indeed, has been made difficult not from the paucity but from the superabundance of his letters. Nor are they superficial: on the contrary, he made his immediate family his confidants, pouring out through many and carefully written pages, not only his acts, but his hopes and ideals. It has indeed been a perplexing task to choose among this mass of fine material. It may also be assumed that if no name or initial is given, the letter in question is addressed to a member of his family circle. The following letters are the first from India, and are written with all the freshness of a new-comer:
"Delhi: Friday, Dec. 12, 1879.
"At last Delhi. It is Friday evening, just 7 o'clock, and the mail goes out soon, but just one word must go with it from the long-looked-for goal. ... I reached Delhi on Thursday at 3 p.m. You may imagine what a meeting it was as the six of us stood together on the platform--or indeed eight, for besides our six selves of the Cambridge Mission there was Winter and another old missionary who is stopping with us at present. We quite took the station by storm. A quarter of an hour's drive brought us to our temporary quarters, viz. a very nice bungalow rather less than a mile outside the city walls. It is very comfortable and healthy, but too far from our work for a permanency. After dinner we went to the church for Evening Service which is daily, as well as Service in the morning.
"I have this moment come back from a service which Winter took in a little outlying hamlet. It was a strange, and naturally to me, a very impressive sight; twenty or thirty of the natives, all poor, squatting round us in their strange attitudes; of course I could not understand anything of the service, though to lose no time I had my first interview with a Munshi (tutor) to-day. I can tell you I felt uncommonly helpless as the door closed and left me, who know scarcely a word of Hindustanee--with a gentleman of colour who knew no word of English--however, by the help of a dictionary, pen, ink and paper, we soon got on a little, and I hope the worst of it will soon be broke."
"January 7, 1880.
"We have had a terrible disappointment in one way this week. A nice quiet looking Mahommedan came to Bicker-steth one morning saying he had been attending the Bazaar preaching and would like to know more about Christianity. Of course B. gave him some help and arranged to read with him regularly. The next day he came to say he had been beaten and turned out of house and home for coming to us. The upshot of it was that we took him in here. He was a nice-looking man, apparently of good family--and you know converts from Mahommedans of this class are very rare--and we all liked him very much. And then yesterday it turned out to be all a sham. He was baptised by the Baptists some months back, and his story to us had been a tissue of lies. It was a terrible blow to Bickersteth, and shows how careful one must be in baptising--even now we cannot make out his motive."
"March 10, 1880.
"I should like at some time to tell you more about the peculiar circumstances of the Mission--our hopes and fears and plans regarding it, but this much I can say now that day by day there grows on each of us the conviction that the very heart of our teaching, both foundation and corner-stone, must be Jesus Christ and Him crucified. We all need all your prayers, and I feel we are not without them."
The influence of caste.
"Delhi: April 7, 1880.
"It is almost impossible to realise their scrupulosity in matters of food. It has even spread in great measure to the Mahommedans, e.g., C. a few days ago wanting a little brass vessel for some purpose, and seeing one in the hands of one of our bearers--a Mahommedan--asked him to show it to him. It was his regular drinking vessel, his lota--each man has one--and it is as dear to him almost as his life, as important to be kept from impurity or profanation. The man brought it and showed it to C. who unwittingly put out his hand to take 't. The man drew quickly back, but his finger had touched it 'Never mind, Sahib,' said the man (really a most respectful servant), 'I can wash it clean!' A., hearing that this same man was ill with fever, sent him out a dose of quinine, the effects of which they know and value highly; but it was jn one of our glasses, so the man absolutely refused to touch it--even if it were poured into his own lota--it had already contracted contamination. In the total absence of spirituality in their religion, I suppose it is inevitable that a very religiously minded people should supply the need of scrupulous heed to points of this kind. . . . Then there is our Chaukedar, or night watchman, a member of a celebrated caste of thieves who levy a regular blackmail, inasmuch as you must engage one of the confraternity as your watchman, or you will be robbed to a certainty. If you do have him the odds are very much against your losing anything.
The position of the Mission House.
"I believe that our position as the ruling power puts a dead weight on missionary enterprise which nothing but the direct grace of God can possibly enable us to lift. As long as we are out here we are simply of the Bara Sahibs, doubtless employed by Government to seduce the people from their religion by bribery and every means, fair or foul, but equally doubtless drawing a good stipend, and here (as all the civilians and military, and in fact every Englishman is here) primarily for his own sake; secondarily, or rather infinitely afterwards, for the sake of the natives! Shall we then move into the City? We have found a site which would do very fairly, but there is the one fact that no European does live in the city, and we should have to count on our lease of life being very distinctly shortened."
I may as well here insert the after history of the location of the Cambridge Brotherhood. The Cambridge men lived on in the house outside the walls till 1893. They then came into the S.P.G. Mission House within the city, where they have resided up to the present time. This house belonged to one of the Indian nobles till the Mutiny, when it was confiscated by the Government, and sold to the Delhi Mission, and is held by the S.P.G. as a Trust for the Diocese. The Rev. R. R. Winter came to live there in i860. In 1919 it has been determined to remove the Mission to another house in a more open part, but still within the precincts of the city. St. Stephen's Church is of course retained.
The following, written six months later than the last letter, refers to the same subject:
"A Loft, Melrowli: Dec. 7, 1880.
"You may know that I have all along been the strong and persistent advocate of going into the city for our dwelling-place, and the present, when I was going entirely alone, seemed a good time to try the experiment--though, of course, my very imperfect acquaintance with the language must needs prevent the practical success of the experiment, even though it were proved to be theoretically correct. Accordingly I added to my personal equipage a camp chair, a piece of carpet, which serves as a chair for as many people as can sit on it, a camp table, a cooking canteen containing all sorts of wonderful things in the smallest possible space, a supply of bread, meat and rice for curry, my india-rubber bath (? Missionary simplicity) and started forth prepared for any fortune. On the way out there was a little village school to visit, so I sent on my servant, a Christian boy, with the things, telling him to get breakfast ready at the Dak Bungalow and cast his eyes about for some other suitable lodging in the village. . . . After examining the village and trying to talk to a little knot of the more important men of the place (small farmers who were gathered together chatting, there being little to do at this time of the year in the farm, and an absolutely illimitable flow of conversation being possessed by all these people) I made my way back to the main road, and soon found myself under shelter of the Dak Bungalow, and quite ready for the breakfast my boy had prepared.
"The search for the room seemed to have resulted satisfactorily. In the very centre of the little Bazaar a lodging was pronounced as procurable. . . . There was an old gateway opening on to a sort of courtyard in the very middle of the village street, which we had always chosen as the site of our preaching; entering this and ascending a staircase on to the roof of the shops in the street, I discovered six little rooms in a row, looking more like stables than anything else, each about sixteen feet long by seven feet broad, quite empty and clean looking, a door in the middle at the back for entering at and two opening on to a tiny verandah over the street. It was the very thing. This I therefore engaged at the extensive rent of R1 (l/8) for as long as I wished to stay, not exceeding five days, and sent for my things. . . . After visiting the Chamar Christians in their Busti I took my stand about 5 p.m. by the side of the Catechist beneath the archway, and heard him deliver a discourse. ... In the middle of a little conversation which developed I managed to slip in as best as I could that, though unable to preach to them yet, I should be very glad to see any one who would call on me.
"After the preaching I sent off the Catechist and retired to my quarters, ordering dinner and sitting down to begin this letter to you. I had not finished the first page when, to my intense surprise, I looked up and saw three men standing in the doorway--two of them as fine men, and with as good faces as you would meet in England.
"I welcomed them, and kicking off their shoes they came in and sat down on the carpet. We soon fell a-talking, as they had come up all prepared with some questions. Not much came of our conversation for two chief reasons--one was that the two big ones were Hindus of a tribe called Chattes, who brought in so many Hindi words that I could scarcely understand a sentence they said. And still more fatal was the other difficulty that the third was a Mahomme-dan, and though Mahommedans and Hindus, leaving religious questions on one side, may sometimes unite against a foreigner, yet on religious questions the Mahommedan has necessarily a far greater affinity to the Christian than to the Hindoo. Consequently no sooner had one party got his objection satisfactorily stated than the other was up in arms at such a horrible idea, and they fell to fighting with such a will that it was with the utmost difficulty I sometimes managed to get in a word. . . . They retired after some time . . . but with a promise (whether to be fulfilled or not time must show) to come again to-night, and every night I stop here. I think possibly they will, as I learn to-day the Hindoos were two of the chief men of the place who have some money and plenty of time on their hands."
Higher Education
But the Mission had soon to face a big problem. Representing a great English University they were surely called to help in Higher Education. There had been a Government College in Delhi but closed some four years ago, and it had been, of course, on a secular basis. The Government put out feelers to the Cambridge men to discover what they would undertake. Would they open classes for those who desire to take the B. A. degree? Would they in that case confine themselves to Christian students, or welcome all? Perhaps in the dim distance some had begun to inquire whether the Mission would be responsible for a complete College. The following letters give Lefroy's attitude:
"Delhi: May 26, 1880.
"The Bishop has been strongly urging us to open a University College here to train men up to the Degree standard. It is an immensely large and difficult subject. Once again, pray for us. If we do open we must strain every nerve to make it the best in this part of India. There is no reason ultimately why it should not be the best in India."
"Delhi: June (or July), 1880.
"Difficult questions are pressing on us for solution. The last is the relation which we are to assume towards the old Delhi College which was shut up some four years ago by Government orders, chiefly for lack of funds, and is now being opened again by a sort of joint movement of chief Natives, chief Englishmen, privately, and Government. They would be glad enough to get hold of one or two of us as lecturers, partly perhaps because they are not very flush of money, partly because the name of the thing would help them at least at starting. It's hard to see what to do. On the one hand, we are distinctly pledged by our position to influence in any way we can the highest education of the native boys, and so if we don't throw ourselves into this movement we seem to me pledged to open another College of our own for the boys from our own school. On the other hand, neither of these courses is free from serious objection. In a Native College our position as Missionaries must be more or less anomalous, might become untenable if (as is too often the case out here) the European at its head were a professed Sceptic. On the other hand, a College of our own would be a formidable undertaking involving some expense, much trouble and responsibility, and possibly a decided severance of those chiefly engaged in it from other work because of the extreme difficulty of mastering the Urdu language if constantly teaching in English."
Two years later the responsibility was accepted.
"Delhi: March 7, 1882.
"I found an important piece of news awaiting me on my return to Delhi, namely that the long-waited-for final answer from Government had come at last about the College, and was wholly satisfactory, as they grant us the whole sum in aid we had asked for--£45 a month and £200 for purchase of scientific apparatus, and it ended by thanking us for the promptness with which we had accepted their proposals in the cause of higher education in the Punjaub. So we are fairly in for it now. It is really a most solemn step, and it is a terrible thought that possibly we may not be in the right after all, in so far at least that one may be giving up one's life to a line of work which though good in itself is not as good, as productive, as others might be. This is B.'s view and the view I know of many wise and good men. But A. and I have been comforting ourselves with the thought that we have by no means sought this enlargement of our work, but it has come to us gradually and from outside, while we have been strongly urged by many whom we respect, and notably our Bishop who is entirely a missionary at heart, to take it up. I pray and trust that God's Holy Spirit may be guiding us into that path which he sees best for us. ... It will be of course our ground for another and urgent appeal to Cambridge for at least one more man. May he be granted to us. ... The Bishop is with us, working round Delhi as his head centre."
Thus there came into existence an Institution which has for years been a boon to India and a cause of pride for Cambridge. I give a few instances of the indirect but precious results of the influence exerted over those who were not Christians.
Extract from one of the College boy's letters.
1883.
"I cannot find words to express the kindnesses and favours you have shown all times to me, and for which I am indebted to you for the whole of my life. The moral education which has been sown by your and Mr. Lefroy's lectures cannot vanish and will serve a good part in the remainder of my years and on my part I will also try to attain that high aim you were discussing in the lectures."
A humorous touch.
"Delhi: Sept. 1,1883.
"This morning we had our prize distribution. The only direct share I had in the work to-day was in the speech which was one which Dr. Westcott had very kindly sent out for the occasion and the translation of which had been entrusted to me. If you know anything of his ordinary style you will recognise that the translation of it was likely to be a task of some magnitude: but really in the present instance it was on the whole an easier job than might have been expected, for he had so completely out-Heroded Herod that very few of us could make out much of the English, which left me the more free to follow the bent of my own sweet imagination, which I did to a pretty considerable extent"
After a letter referring to two students.
"Delhi: January IS, 1884.
"I was very much struck myself with the attitude of these same two boys a short time ago--since this happened. It was in our Scripture lesson where we are doing our Lord's miracles. I found them really pleading with me (I scarcely think I can use any other word) to let them hold to Jesus Christ as the highest type of humanity that ever existed and to which they should try most entirely to conform their own lives but without accepting the Divinity and consequent present Lordship.
"Of course I had to tell them frankly that I believed the position could not stand in the long run--that all which they so admired in Him and were so ready to accept was so bound up with His more mysterious teaching about Himself and with the claims that He makes on our allegiance that the day must come for any thoughtful mind when he must definitely face these claims and either accept them and go forward to a full faith, or reject them and say that his previous estimate had been mistaken, for that character could not be thought blameless or otherwise than most fearfully presumptuous and blameworthy which being only man would yet make Himself out God. One cannot, I believe, be wrong in definitely insisting on this from the first."
Delhi climatic conditions.
The summer in Delhi is often dreaded both by Europeans and also by Indians from other regions. The winter is delightful and bracing, but there is something about the summer heat which makes the sun one's enemy. In St. Stephen's Hospital, whilst an inmate myself, I was told that in summer there are days when most of the patients have to be "packed" in cold water, or ice if procurable. Lefroy took the matter with complete good humour.
"Delhi: May 21, 1881.
"At present we have just entered the 90s in our rooms, but hitherto any great heat has always been driven off by a dust-storm. These latter are novel experiences to me for though we had one or two last year, still they were always at mid-day when we were all in the house. This year they have come just at the outing time 5-6 p.m. I have been caught in three and certainly they are very unpleasant. After a dull quiet afternoon, something like that which precedes thunder, you see a dark cloud rising on the horizon--this at first looks like rain but as it gets very quickly nearer you see that it is not quite the colour of rain, too browny, and then in a moment it is on you, a high wind and a cloud of dust absolutely darkening everything--so that lamps have to be lighted--dashing the sand and gravel into your eyes, mouth, nose and ears--and penetrating into every corner of the house. It is really a more or less painful experience to be caught out in one, but they lighten the air and reduce the temperature."
"Delhi: August 13, 1881.
"I hear it has been up to 98 in the shade in London--that's pretty hot certainly. I can't say what it would be here. W. put his thermo out one day in his verandah, a deep verandah on which the sun had not yet fallen, and at 120 degrees it expired, burst. We haven't repeated the experiment. And you must remember that we have had nothing like the heat this year we had last.
"The fact of the matter is it is the wind which makes all the difference. One gets a hot muggy day in England, hot just because there is no breeze, but whatever breeze does come is always so far an alleviation. With us you know it is just the opposite, and our most dreaded enemy is the Lulu--the furnace blast which comes all across the sand deserts of Scind and Rajputana and gives us the benefit of it all. We have scarcely had it this year: not at all at night, which is the most trying thing, though once or twice when I had to go out before the evening it made one catch one's breath with a funny sort of feel."
By way of contrast let me insert a letter from the Himalayas. The hills were Lefroy's delight and refreshment. I think it was his first trip. For obvious reasons I have omitted names.
"------Bungalow: October, 1881.
"It is just over three weeks since we left Delhi for the hills and a very pleasant time it has been. After spending a week in Simla drinking in the air and trying to get one's mountain legs a little bit (which go most hopelessly in the plains where, as you know, not only is the country itself for the most part as flat as a table, but there isn't so much as a stair in the houses to keep you in training), we started for the interior of the Himalayas.
"We set out on September 21, having just three weeks to get 140 miles in and as many back again . . . our road has been running, not through British territory but through the possessions of one of the many little Rajahs who abound in these hills--twenty-four of them being under the supervision of the Deputy-Commissioner of Simla alone! He gave us a letter to the Rajah------informing him that two distinguished travelers were coming through his dominions and expressing a hope that every consideration would be shown to them. On reaching the Rajah's capital--a village somewhat smaller and infinitely less respectable than Loughbrickland--we presented our credentials. At that time we were not able to see him (for he was under the influence of drink) but his prime minister sent us a letter ordering all loyal subjects on pain of heavy punishment to supply us liberally with milk, eggs and fowl--the last two being abominations in their eyes as articles of food--and to offer us no annoyance: and what was more to the point, a man was sent with us for the rest of our journey to see that we got what we wanted.
"On our return journey we found him sober, though how we were to see him seemed a difficulty, as we got in late at night and proposed to be off by 6.30 the next morning, as we had a double stage to do and even in the hills the sun has to be avoided as much as possible: however, we had heard that the Rajah was always very eager for a chat with Englishmen--especially that he might find out the correct time and readjust his watch--so we were not very much surprised when, just as we were starting at 6.30 from the bungalow (or rest house) in which we had spent the night, we heard cries of ' Maharaj: Salaam, Salaam,' and were informed that his Highness was at hand. It was somewhat early for a royal visit and the extent of the furniture which the bungalow could supply us with was three hopelessly broken and decrepit old chairs; however, we arranged them as we best might in the verandah and received the little man. He came up carried in a sort of sedan chair raised on the shoulders of eight men. It is probably the only means of conveyance he has, and there is not a road in his whole territory on which a wheeled vehicle could go. He is a sharp looking little fellow, by no means wanting in dignity, and talks capital English. It was not long before an enormous old turnip (watch) was produced with great care, and he inquired solemnly of each of us, 'What is the time by your Honour's watch?' He was much satisfied to find that he was approximately right--his watch having been set the day before by two other Englishmen whom we had met before seeing him. He then proceeded to inspect my gun, and begged four or five cartridges of me! I thought as a prince I could not give him less than a dozen, whereat he was much delighted. . .... We had a very pleasant march of about 13 miles last night all along the valley of the------by bright moonlight. The sun is really a terrible drawback even to walking in these hills. At least I don't much mind it, especially if one can keep at an elevation of over 7000 or 8000 feet; but now we are down in a valley of only about 3000 and E. B. being seedy we have to keep close literally the entire day, never crossing the threshold till the sun sets in the evening. . . . Each night we reached a bungalow to sleep in, but whether you got a bedstead or not was a chance--though, in fact, I have only slept twice on the floor (we had a travelling bedstead for E. B.), and the servant whom we brought with us as cook was new to the work, and though he did his best, did not reach any very high standard."
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