Experience of _beegar_ in Himalayan villages had made the Englishman very tender in raising supplies that were given _gratis_; but the _murghiwalla_ could not be found, and the value of his wares was, later, paid to Ganesh--Ganesh of Situr, for that is the name of the village full of priests, through which the Englishman had passed in ignorance two days before. A double handful of sweet smelling flowers made the receipt. Boondi was wide awake before half-past seven in the morning. Her hunters, on foot and on horse, were filing towards the Deoli Gate to go _shikarring_. They would hunt tiger and deer they said, even with matchlocks and muzzle-loaders as uncouth as those the _Sahib_ saw. They were a merry company and chaffed the Quarter-Guard at the gate unmercifully when a bullock-cart, laden with the cases of the “Batoum Naphtha and Oil Company” blocked the road. One of them had been a soldier of the Queen, and, excited by the appearance of a _Sahib_, did so rebuke and badger the Quarter-Guard for their slovenliness that they threatened to come out of the barracks and destroy him. So, after one last look at the Palace high up the hill side, the Englishman was borne away along the Deoli road. The peculiarity of Boondi is the peculiarity of the covered pitfall. One does not see it till one falls into it. A quarter of a mile from the gate, it and its Palace were invisible. The runners who had chivalrously volunteered to protect the wanderer against possible dacoits had been satisfactorily disposed of, and all was peace and unruffled loaferdom. But the Englishman was grieved at heart. He had fallen in love with Boondi the beautiful, and believed that he would never again see anything half so fair. The utter untouchedness of the town was one-half the charm and its associations the other. Read Tod, who is far too good to be chipped or sampled, read Tod luxuriously on the bund of the Burra Talao, and the spirit of the place will enter into you and you will be happy. To enjoy life thoroughly, haste and bustle must be abandoned. Ram Baksh has said that Englishmen are always _dikking_ to go forward, and for this reason, though beyond doubt they pay well and readily, are not wise men. He gave utterance to this philosophy after he had mistaken his road and pulled up in what must have been a disused quarry hard by a cane-field. There were patches and pockets of cultivation along the rocky road, where men grew cotton, _til_, chillies, tobacco, and sugar-cane. “I will get you sugar-cane,” said Ram Baksh. “Then we will go forward, and perhaps some of these jungly fools will tell us where the road is.” A “jungly fool,” a tender of goats, did in time appear, but there was no hurry; the sugar-cane was sweet and purple and the sun warm.