We did not loiter here, but were soon again jogging along through a dismal scene, from which all life and animation seemed almost wholly absent; and as we rode on, sometimes across enormous tracts of open country, sometimes in and out of gigantic topes and deserted villages, only a few gaping peasants, or the lowing of stray cattle relieved the dreary aspect and ominous stillness — deepened rather than broken by the monotonous tramp of our horses’ hoofs.
But the severest toil, in whatever form, has an end, like everything else. And so this long, weary march ended at length at the village of Amorah; too late, however, after nightfall for us to do more than bivouac in open fields, and rest there on generous earth, with a star-lit, sympathising, cloudless sky above us all.
At Amorah we burst into the full blaze and storm of the rebellion, and found ourselves, after many months of unceasing marches, counter-marches, and flying marches, covering an extent of country which in length of mileage would have embraced European kingdoms, suddenly halted for unexplained reasons, and an unknown period.
Although our harassing marches now closed, the circumstance was a disappointment to the Corps, and considered by no means satisfactory; for having at last reached, to use a hackneyed phrase, within measurable distance of Luknow (where preparations for the re-capture of that important city were in progress), we all felt impatient for removal to those
