we have had a great quarrel." She then explained that at a native feast every guest sits down in a circle, or in a line, and before each person a freshly gathered leaf is placed as a plate; then the giver of the feast comes round, and puts an equal portion of curry and rice before each guest. When all have been helped, they start fair—and, in general, the host refills all the plates. It sometimes happens that some of the guests eat so fast they get a greater share than the others, this puts the rest into a rage, and they quietly vent their spite by slyly cutting holes in the clothes worn by the great eaters. It happened at this feast that my ayha sat next a man who was helped three times, and I suspect she cut holes in his attire, which caused the disturbance.
During this month of June we have lost two very fine grey carriage-horses, the first we have lost during a residence of nearly eight years in India; they have been poisoned by the grass-cutters for the sake of their skins, each skin being worth about six rupees. The first stage out of Cawnpore is famous as a place where horses die on their march, and hides are there procurable for tanning. The poison is made into small balls, scarcely larger than pills, which are thrown into the manger, or into the grass. In the evening I observed about twenty natives surrounding the entrance-gates, who had come in the hope of carrying the carcase away, to sell the hide, and to feast themselves upon the flesh, for the people of the Jullah or Doom caste eat carrion. They were disappointed in their hope of a repast; we had the horse put into a boat, and sunk in the Ganges.
Extract from the Letter of a Friend Homeward-bound.
June.—"After leaving the Sandheads we were obliged to put into Trincomalee, Ceylon, in consequence of an accident to the chain-cable, and having sprung a leak. We put to sea again, but the leak was as bad as before whenever the sea made the vessel pitch; fortunately, we reached the Isle of France, March 19th, and were in quarantine three days and a half. On landing I thought I had never seen a dirtier place nor filthier people than Port Louis and its inhabitants. And now I will tell you an odd story.
