tress-crowned hills look down upon the strange medley. One of
them bears on its flank in huge white letters the cheery inscription,
"Welcome!" This was made when the Prince of Wales visited Jeypore to
shoot his first tiger; but the average traveller of to-day may
appropriate the message to himself, for Jeypore takes great care of
strangers and shows them all courtesy. This, by the way, demoralises the
Globe-trotter, whose first cry is, "Where can we get horses? Where can
we get elephants? Who is the man to write to for all these things?"

Thanks to the courtesy of the Maharaja, it is possible to see
everything, but for the incurious who object to being driven through
their sights, a journey down any one of the great main streets is a
day's delightful occupation. The view is as unobstructed as that of the
Champs Elysees; but in place of the white-stone fronts of Paris, rises a
long line of open-work screen-wall, the prevailing tone of which is
pink, caramel-pink, but house-owners have unlimited license to decorate
their tenements as they please. Jeypore, broadly considered, is Hindu,
and her architecture of the riotous, many-arched type which even the
Globe-trotter after a short time learns to call Hindu. It is neither
temperate nor noble, but it satisfies the general desire for something
that "really looks Indian."

A perverse taste for low company drew the Englishman from the
pavement--to walk upon a real stone pavement is in itself a
privilege--up a side-street, where he assisted at a quail fight and
found the low-caste Rajput a cheery and affable soul. The owner of the
losing quail was a trooper in the Maharaja's army. He explained that his
pay was six rupees a month paid bimonthly. He had to pay the cost of his
khaki blouse, brown-leather accoutrements, and jack-boots; lance,
saddle, sword, and horse were given free. He refused to tell for how
many months in the year he was drilled, and said vaguely that his duties
were mainly escort ones, and he had no fault to find with them. The
defeat of his quail had vexed him, and he desired the Sahib to
understand that the sowars of His Highness's army could ride. A clumsy
attempt at a compliment so fired his martial blood that he climbed into
his saddle, and then and there insisted on showing off his horsemanship.
The road was narrow, the lance was long, and the horse was a big one,
but no one objected, and the Englishman sat him down on a doorstep and
watched the fun. The