not look
after themselves, for Neemuch Cantonment, a hundred miles away, suffered
grievously last summer. "And what do you make in Udaipur?" "Swords,"
said the man in the shop, throwing down an armful of _tulwars_,
_kuttars_, and _khandas_ on the stones. "Do you want any? Look here!"
Hereat, he took up one of the commoner swords and flourished it in the
sunshine. Then he bent it double, and, as it sprang straight, began to
make it "speak." Arm-venders in Udaipur are a sincere race, for they
sell to people who really use their wares. The man in the shop was
rude--distinctly so. His first flush of professional enthusiasm abated,
he took stock of the Englishman and said calmly: "What do _you_ want
with a sword?" Then he picked up his goods and retreated, while certain
small boys, who deserved a smacking, laughed riotously from the coping
of a little temple hard by. Swords seem to be the sole manufacture of
the place. At least, none of the inhabitants the Englishman spoke to
could think of any other.

There is a certain amount of personal violence in and about the State,
or else where would be the good of the weapons? There are occasionally
dacoities more or less important; but these are not often heard of, and,
indeed, there is no special reason why they should be dragged into the
light of an unholy publicity, for the land governs itself in its own
way, and is always in its own way, which is by no means ours, very
happy. The Thakurs live, each in his own castle on some rock-faced hill,
much as they lived in the days of Tod; though their chances of
distinguishing themselves, except in the school, and dispensary line,
are strictly limited. Nominally, they pay _chutoond_, or a sixth of
their revenues to the State, and are under feudal obligations to supply
their Head with so many horsemen per thousand rupees; but whether the
_chutoond_ justifies its name and what is the exact extent of the "tail"
leviable, they, and perhaps the Rajputana Agency, alone know. They are
quiet, give no trouble except to the wild boar, and personally are
magnificent men to look at. The Rajput shows his breeding in his hands
and feet, which are almost disproportionately small, and as well shaped
as those of a woman. His stirrups and sword-handles are even more
unusable by Westerns than those elsewhere in India, whereas the Bhil's
knife-handle gives as large a grip as an English one. Now the little
Bhil is an aborigine, which is humiliating to think