A bandit would
know the haunts of other bandits, and either to conciliate the
government or in the hope of reward occasionally betrayed or slew a
fellow-outlaw. While in Oude, one morning just after breakfast I was
told there was something to show me in a basket. The cover was
removed, and there I saw sixteen human heads. Their late proprietors
were a famous brigand and his merry men, only looking quite the
reverse of merry in the grim ghastliness of decapitation. I scarcely
recovered my appetite before tiffin.
By an odd concurrence of circumstances, when near Fyzabad I was for
three days thrown on the hospitality of a wealthy Mohammedan. Nothing
could have exceeded his kindness, but the peculiar nature of the
entertainment he gave me may be conjectured when I mention that he had
not such a thing as a chair, table, knife, fork or spoon to his name.
Perforce, I had to dine sitting on the floor and with the sole aid of
my fingers. However, I accepted my fate without a murmur, and soon
learned to feed after the fashion of Eden as deftly as if I had been
bred to it. Hindoo cookery I could rarely screw up my courage so
heroically as to venture upon. Even the odor of my Calcutta washerman,
redolent with the fragrance of castor oil, was too much for my
unchastised squeamishness; and as to assafoetida, the favorite
condiment of our Aryan cousins, I was so uncatholic as to bring away
from India the same aversion to it that I had carried out there.
Pages:
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200