In the absence of clothing it was found impossible to sleep; and all around the bivouac the horses kept up a restless stamp and tramp, while deep and discordant growls issued from the men, as if from the bowels of the earth, on every side. Our only comfort therefore was the fire — kindled by the “guides” to scare away, as they said, the beasts of prey. Towards midnight, while we still sat smoking and basking over the fire, and a sepulchral stillness reigned over the jungles — interrupted occasionally by the loud and dismal howl of jackals — we heard sounds far more impressive and striking than had yet fallen on our ears, sounds as of shouts of exultation long and loud, and savage yells sharp and clear pervading the surrounding gloom. With bated breath and necks craned we listened, while the sentinels called out to one another, and confirmed to each other what had been heard. What were those sounds? whence did they come? could the mutineers be in our vicinity or on the move? were questions earnestly asked, and subsequently answered by a grim apparition in the jungles.
At break of day, after passing a wretched and sleepless night, we pioneered our way along a web of thorny bushes that stretched from the Terai into the plains on all sides, and in solemn silence rode on, backwards and forwards, now here, now there, according to the directions of the “guides”; until at last, a few days having passed in this “wild-goose chase” — this jungly promenade — all hopes of discovering the rebel camp were abandoned; and therefore, for the last time, as
