had been directed to form. It was at a place called Ammowah, about
thirty-five miles from the great forest of Nepaul. At the back of this
forest were the strong forts and stockades of the enemy, on hills whose
summits were crowned with milk-white clouds, fringed with glittering
gold; and in the distance were to be seen the snowy mountains proudly
towering over the heads of the more humble hills below.

Considerable delay now occurred in the formation of the army, and time
began to hang heavy on our hands, although we had good hunting,
shooting, and racing, and did our best to amuse ourselves when off
active duty. But this was not the sort of sport for which we were
assembled in arms in this wild and romantic territory of the Nepaulese.
Our object was to reduce this artful and warlike tribe to subjection;
for our disasters the year before had made them bold and overbearing,
and had incited them to laugh to scorn all overtures of amicable
arrangement. They trusted, and not without good cause, to the almost
inaccessible nature of their country, and, from their tremendous
fortified hills and stockades, looked down with contempt on the little
foe below.

The necessary preliminaries to this arduous enterprise having been at
length duly arranged, things began to take a more active turn, and in
three days after we bent our way towards that forest that for ages past
had been the terror of the East, and was indeed a bulwark to the Nepaul
territory. Our march was necessarily slow and tedious; but in three days
we reached a place called Summarabassah, on the very margin of that
terrific forest. On the last day I was in the rear-guard, which did not
reach camp until late in the evening, although a distance of not more
than ten miles. The roads in which we marched might, with great
propriety, be termed bogs. They abounded with deep nullahs, or ravines,
with abrupt banks of a clayey nature. Our heavy guns we were compelled
to get over by means of men and drag-ropes, for the bullocks had no
footing, and many of these poor creatures were much hurt in the attempt
to perform this labour. After the camp was in sight, we were three hours
before we reached it. We had marched at about four o'clock in the
morning, without breakfast, expecting to reach our ground by nine, the
usual time, instead of which we did not get in until past four o'clock
in the afternoon, and then half famished.

We at last reached camp, in front of which, in a kind