Such was the substance of the conversation that passed between the two potentates; but setting bombast aside, Bahawul Khan has always expressed to those officers who visited his capital the utmost respect for the British, and an anxiety to preserve a sincere alliance. His decision has been unquestionably politic; for, by placing himself under British protection, he has saved his country from the rapacity of his formidable neighbours, the Sikhs.

The city of Bahawulpore is of considerable extent, and surrounded by a dilapidated mud wall, about twelve feet in height and four in thickness. The principal houses are built of brick, but huddled so closely together, as to engender filth and heat to an unnecessary degree. The khan's palace is in the centre of the town, and presents as mean an exterior as the other houses. Of the interior, I can form no estimate, not having visited it. The narrow bazaars were thronged all day; and trade seemed to be flourishing briskly amongst the twenty thousand inhabitants which Bahawulpore is said to contain.

Woollens, hardware, and a variety of fruit, seemed to be the principal articles exposed for sale; but the prevalent commodity is undoubtedly filth.

The men are certainly a larger, better looking, and more brawny race than that of the upper provinces of Bengal.

The women are so carefully wrapped in veils, that I was enabled to catch only a faint glimpse of their faces, and a very indistinct one of their figures; but the damsels of the East usually evince greater anxiety to conceal their face than any other part of their persons.

The only Bahawulpore fair ones I had a good opportunity of seeing and speaking to, were some dancing-girls, attending the khan's party, whilst in our camp. They were lively creatures, with very fair skins, laughing black eyes, and the airy, graceful figures that are almost the universal characteristic of Eastern belles.

The city is about three miles distant from the Sutlej, which must ere long be the grand channel of communication between the upper provinces of Bengal and the Bombay presidency. Its turbid surface, now seldom unruffled by aught save the occasional plunge of a startled alligator, will soon resound to the cries of busy boatmen and the plash of innumerable oars.

On New Year's day, 1839, we resumed our march, bidding adieu to the Sutlej, which diverges hence a little to the west, and unites its waters with the Chinab, which, thirty miles below this confluence, falls into the Indus.

As we advanced, the desert continued on our left, cheerless as ever; but at every ten or twelve miles, we found a halting-place at some village, near which were usually some fields of grain, and invariably good water.