s with the deputy,
informed the doctor, with his usual politeness, "that all the snakes in
the country were at the service of the gentleman; but take care not let
bite, because very high caste snake."

"What do they mean by calling the animals of the country high caste?"
inquired Seymour of Macallan. "I thought it was a term only applied to
the Brachmins and Rajahpoots."

"Both the monkey and the snake are indirectly worshipped by these
people," replied the doctor, "as their supposed deities are represented
to have assumed these forms. The more vicious, or the more venomous,
the higher they rank. The cobra di capella is, I believe, the most
venomous serpent that exists."

"I do declare that that monkey deserves his rank," observed Prose. "I
can hardly walk, as it is."

"Well, but you can ride, Prose, and here are the horses."

The horses, with three elephants, two with howdahs on their backs, and
the other loaded with a large tent, were now paraded before the door;
each horse was attended by his syce, or groom, who never quitted him,
but fanned away the flies with a chowry, or whisk, formed of a horse's
tail. They were beautiful animals, but much too spirited for some of
the party, who felt alarm at the very anticipation of the difficulty
they would have in retaining their seats.

Prose, who had never been twice in his life on the back of any animal,
was in sad trepidation; he looked first at the horses, who were plunging
and rearing in the hands of the syces, who could with difficulty
restrain their impatience, and then at the elephants, whose stupendous
size, flourishing probosces, projecting tusks, and small, keen eyes,
equally filled him with dismay.

"I do declare," observed Prose, affecting an extra limp, "my leg is very
bad. I think."

"Come, come, Mr Prose, no hauling off; no leg-bail, if you please,"
said Courtenay, who, with Seymour, was already mounted, upon a spirited
Arabian; "take your choice--but go you must."

"Well, then, if I must, which would you advise me to take?"

"Take a horse," said Seymour, laughing; "of two evils always choose the
least."

"Take an elephant, Mr Prose," cried Courtenay; "his size is double, but
he'll give you less trouble."

"Why, that's a rhyme, I do declare; but how shall I get upon his back?"

"Oh! he'll take you up in his trunk, and put you on."

"Indeed he shall not," cried Prose, retreating some paces; "I say, Mr
Interpreter, how am I to get on the