Aide; but no, decidedly no, I shall never forget that night. I am off to Oodeypore by carriage at three o'clock this afternoon, so away with romance, and I hope discomfort too.
I may here remark that in travelling through India the unit by which they measure distances is a variable quantity. It is generally a koss. Now, a koss is supposed to be two miles, and from Jeelwarra to Duspore was said to be fifteen koss, or thirty miles, yet was I from 5.30 p.m. to nearly 10 a.m. doing the distance, and during the latter part going at least five miles an hour.
OODEYPORE TOWN AND CASTLE.
After bumping four hours more in a carriage, I arrive at Oodeypore. I don't mind jolting, if I know I am progressing; and these Oodeypore coachmen get along well. The carriage has been once a lady's pony phaeton. It has now four horses; on the off leader is a postillion, the driver sits sideways on the front seat, and we go at full gallop. I am not timid, luckily, for I see that the coachman, as often as not, has his reins under his horses' tails. Bang, bang! thump, bump! over a cucha road for three hours, then one hour over pucka, and we arrive. Here all is delightful, my host Impey most hospitable, my bed soft and clean (and did not I enjoy it!), and I am just writing for the post; while Noor Khan is snoring in well-deserved sleep outside my room.
