I never saw any one lost on a straight road."
We are comfortably lodged in a hotel called a bungalow, which is owned by the Rajah and conducted by a native. I was amused at one of the printed notices in the dining-room, which was: "If visitors are not satisfied with the food or cooking, they can deduct from the bill what they consider fair"; an excellent notice, which I recommend for adoption by hotels elsewhere. In another hotel I saw the following: "Guests are requested not to strike the servants"; and "Guests wishing ice are requested to give a day's notice, and name how much they require."
I walked up the street to look at a hunting tiger with hoods over his eyes, and tied to a tree, and while leaning up against a bungalow gate, a fine-looking young Indian, mounted on a splendid Arabian horse, interviewed me, much as an American newspaper man would have done: Where did I come from? What was my profession? and What was I in Jeypore for?
I told him something of our country, the number of people, the miles of railroads and telegraph wires, the size of New York and Chicago—in all of which he was much interested. I then interviewed him and asked him who he was, and he replied that he was Colonel Fyaz, commander of a regiment of native troops. He could talk the English, Hindoo, Persian, and Oude languages, was delighted to see an American, and asked me where I learned to speak English. He seemed surprised to learn that it was the language of the United States of America.
After a long conversation he asked for my card and invited me to call at his quarters, saying that he would be glad to show me about the city.
[CHAPTER XXIV.]
BOMBAY.
Bombay, January 27, 1890.