Identifier: imperialindiaar00prin (find matches)
Title: Imperial India; an artist's journals
Year: 1879 (1870s)
Authors: Prinsep, Val C. (Val Cameron), 1838-1904
Subjects:
Publisher: London Chapman and Hall
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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about thirty women, whichis also very pretty. In this the women veil their faces. Thenwe have the pugree dance, danced to the tune of PinneeMinnee, which I had seen before ; and then, refreshed withbrandy pawnees and much be-attared and be-panned, and withgarlands round our necks, we take our leave. The two doctorsgo off to Ajmere straight away, and I return to my Residencythrough the moonlight, with the gummer still ringing in myears and filling my imagination. I should like to paint it verymuch. On the 2nd I go to the Rajah at 3 p.m., and a very hot drive itis. Yesterday the thermometer was 84° in the cool of the house.The Rajah is punctual, and appears in the state dress of theRajpoots. A kind of bishops mitre is on his head and a won-derful stiff kilt round his waist The latter he gave me, and Ishall take it home to astonish the Scotch, and to prove that mystudy of Jeswant Sing is not pure invention, as wicked peoplemight suppose.
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O, o KPO o H o CHAPTER IX. JODHPORE TO OODEYPORE. On the morning of the 3rd I got my long-wished-for telegramfrom the political agent at Oodeypore. To-day all the daks areready laid, and I determine to start to-night and bump throughthe cool. I had a good sitting, and I have bumped, and hereI am, much shaken and terribly hungry. The worst is that Ihave outstripped my servant and my luggage, and am solitary,famished, and dumb, for I cannot explain to these fellows whatI want. The last six hours I have travelled by bullock-cart—a newexperience, and one I do not relish. I must go on, however, inthe same vehicle, which is a cofifin, as usual, but on two wheelsinstead of four, and consequently bumps and jumps in a way tobreak limbs less sturdily constructed than mine. My next stageis Dessoori, the border town of the states of Marwar and Mewar,and in the mountains. I manage to get a fowl from the old man at the bungalow,and I sit and write and growl many hours. Round goes the sun,and down

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