ied us two nights and a day of incessant
travelling over a flat but cheerful-looking wheat country. It is a
pretty little station, containing a regiment and a few civilians, and is
situated on the banks of the Rapti, our old Nepaulese acquaintance under
a very different face.

The Gograh, which we crossed the following morning, is the boundary that
divides the British territory from that of his Majesty of Oudh; and
Fyzabad was the first town in his dominions at which we halted. Situate
about six miles from the river, it is approached by a narrow muddy lane
which winds among numbers of squalid huts, while a considerable
sprinkling of handsome mosques and minarets showed the predominance of
Mahomedanism in the country in which we were now travelling; but they all
seemed falling to decay, and were inhabited chiefly by Hindoo monkeys,
who lazily inspected one another on the sunny corners of some ruined
temple, or chased each other irreverently through the sacred groves.

Fyzabad was formerly the capital; but the seat of government was changed
to Lucknow at the accession of Azof-up Dowlah in 1775.

We were not sorry, after spending another twenty-four hours in our
rickety palanquins, to see the massive mosques and lofty minarets of
Lucknow looming in the distance, while handsome buildings in varied
styles of architecture gave to this city a handsome and more imposing
appearance than any I had yet visited in the provinces of India.

We had been so much delayed by the weather, that we missed seeing the
wild-beast fight, which was just concluded as we entered the town. This
was not so much to be regretted however, since, from all we heard, it had
on this occasion proved a tame affair, though it is often most exciting.
The fight between the buffalo and tiger seemed to have caused most
interest, but the unfair practice of blunting the horns of the buffalo
was not congenial to the fair-play feelings of the British portion of the
community. Those who have witnessed a combat between a hyaena and a
donkey, however, say that it exceeds in its ludicrous interest any other
of these animal encounters; the donkey (as is natural) possesses the
sympathies of the spectators, and usually comes off victorious.

His Majesty had prepared a grand entertainment for the evening, whither,
in company with my kind host, the Assistant Resident, I was by no means
sorry to repair--for the King of Oudh is necessarily associated in one's
mind with