On entering the Nizam’s dominions, after the passage of the Kishnah, the sportsmen of our party found ample scope for the employment of their fowling-pieces; for although snipe and water-fowl were here much more scarce than in the low ground of the Carnatic, this deficiency was amply made up, in the far greater abundance of larger and nobler game.
The rangers of the “meidan,” or open grassy “prairies,” through which the line of march would now often lie for miles, therein found abundance of hares, of partridges, and every variety of quail—occasionally got a shot at a florikan, or a bustard; sometimes even stalked an antelope; and enjoyed occasionally an opportunity of breathing their nags in a gallop after the dog-hyæna, the wily little Indian fox, or a skulking jackal. Such as adventured into the jungle in quest of painted partridge or pea-fowl, sometimes recounted on their return to camp, that they had witnessed indubitable traces of animals of a more formidable kind, and described the appearance of what they concluded must be the foot-marks of the royal tiger, which they had seen imprinted in the sandy bed of the dry “nullahs,” or water-courses they had traversed during their sporting excursions from the camp.
Although these conjectures of being occasionally on the trail of a “Bagh,” (as the royal tiger is called in India) were repeatedly confirmed by the protestations of such of the camp-followers and other natives who might have been employed as “beaters,” still such complete “Griffins”[[14]] were we all, that we could not bring ourselves to the belief of being actually in the vicinity—perhaps often within the spring—of so dangerous a customer, as, even in our profound ignorance, we were all perfectly aware that a royal tiger must undoubtedly have proved.
Rife with the impression that all “natives” are necessarily liars by nature, without any “old hand” in Indian sports, to instruct and inform us of the real state of things; and in spite of the repeated warnings we received from our servants and camp-followers, we began, after a few marches north of the Kishnah, to be extremely sceptical as to the very existence of any tigers, near so much-frequented a thoroughfare as that between Hyderabad and Madras; and it was only after a laughable adventure, which might have been attended with fatal results, that we at last found out our mistake.
Our camp was, on the occasion here alluded to, pitched near a large village, or more strictly speaking, a small Mahommedan town, situated between two lofty hills, composed of those bare and gigantic masses of granite, so characteristic of the strange geological features of this part of the country. I am however wrong in describing both these elevations as bare and denuded masses of blackened rock. The most northerly of the two possessed, in a most remarkable degree, those stern features of aridity, but the crest of its opposite neighbor, crowned with ruins—apparently the remains of some old stronghold or castle—rose from amidst huge chaotic masses of granite, whose interstices nourished the growth of innumerable parasitical lianes and creeping plants, mostly of a thorny or prickly nature; amongst which the wild cactus might be distinguished, even from the valley beneath, as luxuriantly flourishing and widely spreading its fantastic, fleshy, and thorn-covered growth.
The tents, pitched in the valley formed by those “ruins of some former world,” had the full benefit of the refracted heat emanating from both; and to this moment I can well remember the grilling we underwent on that day, and the delight with which we hailed the prospect of the declining sun, in order to be able to sally forth, and take our usual evening stroll.
Accompanied by the assistant-surgeon doing duty with the detachment—a remarkably short and corpulent personage from the “land o’ cakes,” who stuttered intolerably, besides speaking the broadest Scotch—accompanied by this nondescript character, who, with all his national peculiarities, was, however, a most excellent fellow, and whom, for want of a better “nom de guerre,” I shall here designate as Doctor Macgillivan; and attended by a single “ghorawallah,” or “saïs” (Anglice, horsekeeper or groom) did I, at the period in question, sally forth from the stifling atmosphere of my tent, in order to breathe the cooling and refreshing evening breeze. Thus accompanied, the doctor and myself bent our footsteps toward the native town, in the vicinity of which our camp had been pitched. We were soon within the precincts of its narrow streets, and wandering through a densely-crowded bazaar.
To a “tazawallah” (a native term corresponding to that of a “Johnny Newcome”)—to a young hand lately imported from Europe—in short, to the animal commonly yclept a “Griffin,” in the East, the usual resort of a large concourse of natives generally presents an untiring source of interest and amusement. The different strange sights, sounds and “smells,” which meet the eye, the ear, and the olfactories of the uninitiated, would in themselves require a long chapter to describe.
This was the first place of any size or note we had yet visited since entering the domains of His Highness the Nizam; and a single glance, as we sauntered along the bazaars, sufficed to show that we were amongst a people quite different from the long-subdued, slavish, and submissive Hindoo inhabitants of the Carnatic.
Here the general outward characteristics of the natives appeared to be a loftier bearing, and a lighter hue of complexion to what we had hitherto seen within the territories of the Company, to the northward of Madras. The predominant race—at least in the town itself—were (as Chiniah, my horsekeeper, informed us) followers of the Prophet—haughty-looking Mussulmans (Moormen, as they are often denominated by our countrymen in the south of India) who, with erect gait and swaggering step, moved proudly past us, their dark eyes flashing fire, their bearded lips curled with contempt for the uncircumcised infidel Nussaranee:[[15]] the hated “Ferringhees,” whom they longed, but dared not openly to insult. Chiniah, who appeared to entertain a salutary dread of such formidable-looking customers, begged us in no way to interfere with their movements—