What delights me in that is that G.’s health should occupy two hours of enquiry. His illnesses have never been half so long, luckily.
Thursday, June 28.
I have had a letter from Dr. D., who gives a wretched account of their sufferings; the thermometer had been for three days ranging from 107° to 110°. He says W. had at last given in, and announced that he could not live twenty-four hours more, but that he had left him sitting under a fountain, smoking his hookah, and in very good spirits; he had little doubt he would live grumbling on. He is sending Captain M. home, and he will be here probably in a week, which I am very glad of. Dr. D. says that he considers him in a precarious state, though his lungs are not yet attacked, but he is so reduced that another week of such weather would be too much for him.
They are all very much occupied in burying a live native—a man who has been described in various travels, who says he has the power of existing in a trance, and who has made a vow to be buried for twelve years. We have seen a great many people who have seen him buried, a guard placed and even a house built over the grave, and who have seen him dug up again at the end of two months apparently a corpse, but he comes to again. Dr. D. was quite incredulous, but says in his letter to-day that after hearing all the witnesses, and seeing the man, he has become quite a convert. They were all going to attend the burying in the afternoon, and the man had desired that he might not be dug up till the Governor-General’s arrival at Lahore next November. He offered to come and be buried here, but Runjeet did not approve of it.
We had a musical dinner yesterday, a borrowed pianoforte and singing, and two couples who accompany each other. The flute couple I think a failure, but they are reckoned in this country perfectly wonderful; and they whispered quite confidentially, ‘I suppose you are aware that before —— came out to this country, the famous Nicholson said he could teach him nothing more.’ I suspect when he goes back the famous Nicholson will find he may throw in a lesson or two with good effect. The other couple are beautiful musicians.
Monday, July 2.
Captain P.’s house was robbed last night of about 80l. worth of plate. One of his own servants is supposed to have done it, but there was another house at the other end of Simla broken open at the same time, and robbed of the same amount of plate, so there must be a gang of robbers in the bazaar, much to ——’s disgrace. It is considered quite a shocking thing to have a robbery in India—pilfering is commendable and rather a source of vanity, but a robbery of an European is a sort of high treason in all native states, and the town pays for that loss.
CHAPTER XX.
Simla, Wednesday, August 8, 1838.
I OUGHT to have begun again sooner, as my last Journal was sent off this day week, but it appears it will have to wait at Bombay till the eighth of next month, so, as you may receive two at once, it will be rather in your favour if one week is omitted.