Ram Chunder, a young man not over thirty, with remarkably courteous manners, with that refinement and delicacy which are the distinguishing characteristics of a high-bred Hindoo, rose and bowed before us, touching his forehead with his folded hands, and then placed us on his right hand. In person he was rather stout, with peculiarly fine eyes and a benevolent expression of countenance, though he was darker in complexion than most of the Brahmans. His dress on this occasion was unusually rich and strikingly picturesque. He wore trousers of a deep crimson satin; over this a long white muslin "angraka," or tunic, reaching almost to the knees; over this again he wore a short vest of purple velvet embroidered with gold braid. A scarf of finest cashmere was bound around his waist, in the folds of which there shone the jewelled hilt of a dagger. On his head was a white turban of stupendous size encircled with a string of large pearls; on his feet were European stockings and a pair of antique Indian slippers embroidered with many-colored silks and fine seed-pearls. Thus attired, he was a gorgeous figure, and, like a true high-born Hindoo, he sat quietly in his place, except that every now and then he rose and bowed with folded hands to each guest as he entered and pointed out their places, reseating himself quietly and simply. There was no sign of bustle or expectation, nor any conversation to speak of. In course of the evening about twenty native and two or three European gentlemen were assembled in the pavilion. The Europeans were on the right, the native gentlemen on the left, and Ram Chunder in the middle. No native ladies were visible, but from the sounds of female voices behind the curtain it was evident they were not far off. Richly-dressed native pages, stationed at the back of each guest, waved to and fro perfumed punkahs of peacock and ostrich feathers. After the usual ceremony of passing around to the guests sherbet in golden cups and "paun suparee," or betel-leaf and the areca-nut done up in gold-leaf, the performance began. A herald dressed like a Hindoo angel, with wings, tail, and beak of a bird and the body of a young boy, announced with a peculiar cry, half natural and half bird-like, the presence of the Rajpoot athletes; and in stepped some ten men, their daggers gleaming in the dim light of the pavilion, which flickered on the gravelled space in front and barely lighted the surrounding garden, in the centre of which stood a fountain. The Rajpoots were in the prime of life, displaying great symmetry of form and development of muscular power. Their heads were closely shaven, with the exception of a long lock of hair bound in a knot at the top of their heads; their dress consisted of a pair of red silk drawers descending halfway to the knee and bound tightly around the waist with a scarf of many colors.