“That will do,” I inwardly ejaculated, as, after examining the seal and superscription, I conveyed the letter to my pocket. I instantly ordered my pony, and girding on my spit, wherewith to destroy any chance giants or dragons I might encounter on the way, I gave the signal, and the sowar and I were soon in a long canter for the judge’s tents.
After a ride of about eight miles, the turn of the road exhibited to my view the judge’s encampment, in which were tents and people enough for nearly a regiment of five hundred men.
Under a spreading banyan-tree were a couple of elephants, eating branches of trees for their tea, as we do water-cresses, and sundry camels bubbling[[54]] and roaring, and uprearing their lofty necks by the well-side, where, from the force of association, I almost looked for Jacob and the fair Rebecca, as represented in those Scripture prints which in infancy we love to dwell upon, and whence probably originates that exquisite charm, that, through our future life, is ever interwoven with Eastern scenes and customs.
Under a couple of tamarind trees, four or five beautiful horses were picketed; amongst them a milk-white Arab, with a flowing tail. This was the judge’s favourite steed. “Pretty well all this,” thought I, “for one man, and he, too, perhaps, the son of some small gentleman.”
My arrival caused a considerable stir at the large tent. Two or three chupprassies, or silver-badge men, darted in to announce me; the hearer caught up the huge red umbrella or chattah, to be prepared for the great man’s exit, and to guard his honoured cranium from the rays of the now declining sun. One or two others held aside the purdahs, or chicks, and Mr. Sympkin, a well-compacted, hearty, jolly, but withal gentlemanly man, of forty-five or fifty, or thereabouts, stood forth to view; he was followed by a fat squabby man, of the colour of yellow soap or saffron, who, though attired in something like the European garb, did not, nevertheless, in other respects, seem to belong to our quarter of the globe.
The judge shook me heartily by the hand, and was at once so smiling and cordial, that I began to fancy I must certainly have known him somewhere before, and that this could never be the first of our acquaintance. It was true downright goodness of heart, bursting through the cobwebs of ceremony, and going slap-bang to its purpose.
“Well, Mr. Gernon, I’m happy to see you here sound and safe. I hope my sowar piloted you well; how far off have you left your tents?”
Having replied to these queries, he again resumed.
“When did you hear last from our friend Marpeet? not since I did, I dare say. Come, give your pony to that man, and he’ll take care of him for you.”
I resigned my tatoo, who was led off.