close by, the faithful domestic servants (who had buried their murdered masters) pointed out to us the recent graves of those who had fallen a sacrifice to the relentless fury of the bloodthirsty Sepoys. They also told us that on that fatal spot a few loyal Sepoys actually killed some of the mutineers in defence of their officers.
Although many days had elapsed since the departure of the mutineers from Deoghur, still the hope of intercepting the fiends stimulated pursuit, and onwards we pressed. Over the hilly tracks, along execrable roads, through leafy labyrinths, down deep and broad Ravines, for several wearisome days we traversed long and rapid marches, but all to no purpose. The pursuit proved ineffectual, the expedition fruitless. The start of the fugitives was too great; and unencumbered with baggage or other impedimenta, they easily escaped towards the North-West Provinces.
While struggling to overtake these mutineers, we were attacked by that mortal scourge, curse, and blight of India — and the most terrible enemy in the world — the cholera, and as its assault often begins with death, a few members of the Corps fell victims to its attack.
By this time having fairly spanned Sonthalistan, and pioneered our way along the plains beyond it, we debouched from straggling villages into a lonely road, where a milestone pillar set up at the junction of several zigzag paths indexed the distance to “Holy Gyah,” according to the inscription, four miles; so we
