Every twelve miles a dārogha comes on board to make salām to the mem sāhiba, and to ask her orders. I send letters to Prāg by this means; the dārogha gives them to our own chaprāsīs, who run with them from station to station. There is no dāk (post) in these parts. The dāroghas bring fish, eggs, kids, any thing of which I am in need; and I pay for them, although they are brought as presents, it being against the orders of Government to receive the gift even of a cabbage or beet-root from a native. The tracking ground was fine; moored off Bhowna.
15th.—Strong west wind, very cold: the river broad and deep; the thermometer at 9 A.M. 60°. The darzee in the after-cabin is at work on a silk gown: the weather is just cold enough to render warm attire necessary. The other day I was on deck in a green velvet travelling cap, with an Indian shawl, put on after the fashion of the men, amusing myself with firing with a pellet-bow at some cotton boats en passant for tamāshā. Some natives came on board to make salām, and looked much surprised at seeing a ghulel (a pellet-bow) in feminine hands. The cotton boats would not get out of the way, therefore I pelted the manjhīs, (masters, or steersmen) of the vessels, to hasten the movements of the great unwieldy lubberly craft. Of whom can I talk but of myself in this my solitude on the Jumna-jee? Now for the telescope to look out for the picturesque.
17th.—Wind strong, cold, and westerly: the stream broad and deep, anchored off Jerowlee in a jungle: just the place for a sportsman. A quantity of underwood and small trees amongst the ravines and cliffs afford shelter for the game. Here you find nil-gā’ī, peacocks, partridge, and quail. Several peacocks were quietly feeding on the cliffs; others roosting on the trees. At this place they told me there is a bura kund, which is, I believe, a well, or spring, or basin of water, especially consecrated to some holy purpose or person; but I did not visit the spot.
20th.—Passed Chilla Tara Ghāt and the Cane River, in which agates, cornelians, calcedony, &c., are found. The day was pleasant, the water deep, but there being but little wind we were obliged to track. Moored off Arouwl, at which place the patelī got upon the rocks.
21st.—A strong east wind: we had a fine sail, but went aground off Bindour: moored at Serowlee.
22nd.—After a very pleasant day, and pretty good sailing, we lugāoed off Humeerpore: during the night we were kept on the qui vive by a very severe storm, accompanied by thunder, lightning, and very heavy rain.
23rd.—A wretched day; cold, damp, and miserable, a most powerful wind directly against us. To add to the discomfort, we sprang a leak, which gave sixty buckets of water in twenty-four hours. The leak was found under the rudder. We had to take down a part of the aft-cabin, and to take up some boards before we could get at it: and when found, we had nothing on board fit to stop it. At last it was effectually stopped with towels, torn up and forced in tight, and stiff clay beaten down over that. I thought this might last until our arrival at Kalpee, where proper repairs might take place: moored off Bowlee.
25th.—Christmas Day was ushered in by rain and hail, the wind high and contrary. At noon the wind decreased, and we got on better, tracking along the banks, with fourteen men on the goon (track-rope). At seven in the evening, just as we had moored, a storm came on, accompanied with the most brilliant forked lightning; and the most violent wind, blowing a gale, united with the strong stream, bearing full down against us. It was really fearful. After a time the vivid and forked lightning became sheeted, and the rain fell, like a second deluge, in torrents. The peals of thunder shook the cabin windows, and all the panes of glass rattled. We had lugāoed off a dry nālā (the bed of a stream); the torrents of rain filled the nālā with water, which poured down against the side of the pinnace with great force and noise. Fearing we should be driven from our moorings by the force of the current, I ran on deck to see if the men were on the alert. It was quite dark: some were on shore taking up the lāwhāsees by which she was secured to the bank; the rest were on deck, trying with their long bamboos to shove her out of the power of the current from the nālā. Having succeeded in this, we were more comfortable. It was out of the question to take rest during such a storm, while there was a chance of being driven from our moorings; and being quite alone was also unpleasant. At length the gale abated, and I was glad to hear only the rain for the rest of the night. Daylight closed my weary eyes: on awaking refreshed from a quiet slumber, I found the Seagull far from Ekouna, near which place we had passed so anxious a night.
26th.—Moored off Kalpee, famous for its crystalized sugar. Here a large budget of letters was brought to me. I remained the whole day at the station to procure provisions and answer the letters. Nor did I forget to purchase tools and every thing necessary for the repair of the leak in the vessel, although we forbore to remove the towels and clay, as she now only made half a bucket in twenty-four hours.