OCTOBER 5. -- Started for Chukothee, and thinking, in an evil moment,
to walk off the effects of my late mishap, I essayed the fifteen
miles on foot.
Long before reaching half way, however, I began to look about for
anything in the shape of a pony, that might appear in sight; but,
none being forthcoming, I was obliged to finish as I had begun, and
at last reached our destination, a snug little village, buried in
fields of yellow rice upon the hill-side. On the way, I fell in with
a fine old Mussulman Zemindar, trudging along on his return to Delhi,
from paying a visit to Sirinugger.
Being an unusually talkative old gentleman, we fraternized by the way,
and he told me that he had been to see the civil commissioner of his
district, now acting as commissioner in the valley, to make his salaam,
relative to a "jageer," or Government grant of certain villages to the
amount of some three thousand rupees per annum, which he had succeeded
in obtaining on account of his loyalty during the recent mutiny.
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