"At the first bugle, soon after daylight, W. gets up and goes to parade, and from thence to superintend the proceedings at the fort.
"By nine o'clock we are both ready for breakfast, after which W. disappears into his business tent, where he receives regimental reports, examines recruits, whether men or horses, superintends stores and equipments, hears complaints, and settles disputes, &c. &c. The regimental business first dispatched, then comes 'kutcherry,' or civil court matters, receiving petitions, adjusting claims, with a still longer &c. You may have some small idea of the amount of this work, when I tell you that during the month of March he disposed of twenty-one serious criminal cases, such as murder, and 'wounding with intent,' and nearly 300 charges of felony, larceny, &c. At two o'clock he comes in for a look at his bairn, and a glass of wine. Soon after five a cup of tea, and then we order the horses, and in the saddle till nearly eight, when I go with him again to the fort, the garden, and the roads, diverging occasionally to fix the site of a new village, a well, or a watercourse.
"You can understand something of the delight of galloping over the almost boundless plain in the cool, fresh air, (for the mornings and evenings are still lovely,) with the ground now enamelled with sweet-scented flowers, and the magnificent mountains nearest us assuming every possible hue which light and shadow can bestow. On our return to camp, W. hears more reports till dinner, which is sometimes shared by the other officers, or chance guests.
"When we are alone, as soon as dinner is over, the letters which have arrived in the evening are examined, classified, and descanted on, sometimes answered; and I receive my instructions for next day's work in copying papers, answering letters, &c. And now do you not think that prayers and bed are the fitting and well-earned ending to the labors of the day?
"When you remember, too, that, in building the fort, roads, and bridges, W. has to make his bricks and burn them, to search for his timber and fell it, you will not deny that his hands are full enough; but in addition, he has to search for workmen, and when brought here, to procure them food and means of cooking it. Some are Mussulmans and eat meat, which must be killed and cooked by their own people. Some are Hindoos, who only feed on grain and vegetables, but every single man must have his own chula or fireplace, with an inclosure for him and his utensils, and if by chance any foot but his own overstep his little mud wall, he will neither eat nor work till another sun has arisen. Then some smoke, while others hold it in abhorrence; some only drink water, others must have spirits; so that it is no easy matter to arrange the conflicting wants of some 1,100 laborers. I shall be very thankful when this Murdân Kôte is finished, for it will relieve my poor husband of half his labor and anxiety.
"By way of variety, we have native sports on great holidays,—such as throwing the spear at a mark, or 'Nazabaze,' which is, fixing a stake of twelve or eighteen inches into the ground, which must be taken up on the spear's point while passing it at full gallop, or putting an orange on the top of a bamboo a yard high, and cutting it through with a sword at full speed. W. is very clever at this, rarely failing, but the spears are too long for any but a lithe native to wield without risking a broken arm. The scene is most picturesque;—the flying horsemen in their flowing many-colored garments, and the grouping of the lookers-on, make me more than ever regret not having a ready pencil-power to put them on paper.
"The weather has been particularly unfavorable to the progress of the fort, so that we are still in our temporary hut and tents. Of course we feel the heat much more, so domiciled. W. is grievously overworked, still his health is wonderfully good, and his spirits as wild as if he were a boy again. He is never so well pleased as when he has the baby in his arms."
Attok, June 9th, 1854.
... We are so far on the way to Murree, and here, I grieve to say, we part for the next three months. I hope to rejoin them for a month in September, and accompany them back to our new home, for by that time I trust that my fortified cantonment will be ready, and our house too. This said fort has been a burden and a stumbling-block to me for months, and added grievously to my work, as I am sole architect. It is built regularly, but of earthworks and mud, and as it covers an area of twelve acres, you may believe that it has been no slight task to superintend its construction. It is a sad necessity, and the curse of Indian life, this repeatedly recurring separation, but anything is better than to see the dear ones suffer. I am fortunately very well, and as yet untouched by the unusual virulence with which the hot weather has commenced this year.