It is true I subjected them occasionally to the rigorous discipline of the Marpeetian code; in other words, thrashed them soundly when they hesitated to plunge into an alligatorish-looking pool after a wounded dabchick, or capsized my griffinship, as happened once or twice, when staggering with me Scotch-cradle fashion, gun and all, through the shallows, to my bolio; but the good-natured, placable creatures soon forgot it, and we were on the whole very good friends. I believe they knew I was a griffin, and, cognizant of the infirmities of that singular animal, made allowances for me, particularly as I gave them sometimes, by way of compensation, a rupee or a feed of metais (sweetmeats).
Oh paying the manjee, he tied up the rupees carefully in the corner of his turban, and made me a low salaam; his crew also bowed themselves to the earth. So much for business. He then put up his hands, and with an agreeable smile, and in an insinuating tone, said something which I desired Ramdial to explain, though I partly guessed its purport.
“What does he muncta (want), Ramdial?”
“He bola (says) if Sahib Kooshee will please give him buckshish.”
“Yes, yes; we’ll give him some boxes—paunch rupee bus?” (Rs. 5 enough, eh?)
“Han Sahib (yes, sir) bus (enough).”
Having, in my usual piebald lingua franca, thus consulted my keeper of the privy purse, I ordered him to disburse a gratuity of Rs. 5 amongst the crew, which they gratefully received, with many salaams. Thus we parted, never more to meet, and thus wound up my aquatic journey from the presidency to Cawnpore.
The curtain is now about to rise on act the last of my griffinage, and it may be some consolation to those who have sat thus long to witness the performance, that they are approaching the dénouement, the grand flourish of trumpets and exeunt omnes.
Cawnpore is the head-quarters of a division, and the station of several thousand troops of all arms—with some slight addition, indeed, of native troops, a force can be despatched almost immediately from this station with which hardly any Indian army of the present day could successfully contend in the open field.
At the period embraced by these memoirs, a regiment of dragoons, two of native cavalry, one of European, and three of native infantry, horse and foot, artillery, pioneers, engineers, &c., &c., constituted the amount of the military force at Cawnpore. The station itself has a bad name amongst Indian stations, and richly does it deserve it. Dust, ravines, and mangy black pigs are the most striking features of the cantonment; and the neighbouring country is flat, arid, and peculiarly uninteresting.