same ones from which they
must procure their drinking water. But what objections will not
thirst silence? I filled my jug as well as the others!

7th February. Dungerkamaluma is a small village at the foot of a
low mountain. A short distance from the station lay a true Arabian
sand desert, but which was fortunately not of very great extent.
The sand plains of India are generally capable of being cultivated,
as it is only necessary to dig a few feet deep to reach water, with
which to irrigate the fields. Even in this little desert were a few
fine-looking wheat fields.

This evening I thought that I should have been obliged to make use
of my pistols. My waggoner always wanted every one to give him the
road; if they did not do so, he abused them. Today we came upon
half a dozen of armed traveller-waggoners, who took no notice of the
calls of my driver, upon which he was enraged, and threatened to
strike them with his whip. If it had come to blows, we should, no
doubt, in spite of my aid, have come off the worst; but they
contented themselves with mutual abuse and threats, and the fellows
got out of the way.

I have everywhere remarked that the Indians jangle and threaten a
great deal, but that they never go beyond that. I have lived a
great deal among the people and observed them, and have often seen
anger and quarrelling, but never fighting. Indeed, when their anger
lasts long, they sit down together. The children never wrestle or
pull each other about, either in sport or earnest. I only once saw
two boys engaged in earnest quarrel, when one of them so far forgot
himself as to give the other a box on the ear, but he did this as
carefully as if he received the blow himself. The boy who was
struck drew his sleeve over his cheek, and the quarrel was ended.
Some other children had looked on from the distance, but took no
part in it.

This good nature may partly depend upon the fact that the people eat
so little flesh, and, according to their religion, are so extremely
kind to all animals; but I think still that there is some cowardice
at the bottom of it. I was told that a Hindoo could scarcely be
persuaded to enter a dark room without a light; if a horse or ox
makes the slightest start, both great and small run frightened and
shrieking away. On the other side, again, I heard from the English
officers that the sepoys were very brave soldiers. Does this
courage come with the coat, or from the example of t