I thoughtlessly tried the same experiment in my bungalow; this time, however, instead of coming out to die as they had done in the field, the rats preferred to die in retirement. I consequently had to vacate the house for six weeks, during which time it was thoroughly dismantled and purified. They not unfrequently show fight. On one occasion, going to a cupboard late at night, in search of some supper for a friend and myself, I found everything in the possession of rats. We drove them off for a time, but they returned to the charge, and even came on the table in numbers, literally fighting with us for the mastery. Carving-knives, however, gained the victory, but not until a dozen or so had been disposed of. Fortunately the bandicoot is not aggressive, otherwise not knives but swords would be necessary. During the first few weeks at Calcutta I had occasion to make a few purchases in the way of light clothing, and boldly dived into that unsavoury locality the China Bazaar. The dealers recognized the novice by their own inherent instinct, and set to work accordingly. No. 1 informed me that he was an honest man, the only one indeed to be found in the place; would I step inside his shop and see the wares, that were very good and ridiculously cheap; he also very kindly and emphatically warned me against dealing with the man over the way, “one d—— big thief!” No. 2 came up and vituperated No. 1: told me that the articles offered were worthless, but that _his_ shop, &c., &c. No. 3 next arrived on the scene, and in a patronizing tone vilified Nos. 1 and 2; they were both thieves, and in league to cheat me. At length, sick at heart, I took refuge in my conveyance and drove home, sending my servant for the articles I required, a thing that I ought to have done at first. The whole thing was on a par with the mercantile qualifications of a native who once sold a bird to a friend of mine on the Upper Congo, and who, by way of summing up all the warbler’s good qualities, exclaimed,— “Father cock, mother cock, sing from three in the morning till late at night—so help me!” All Calcutta was wrapt at night time in impenetrable gloom; I occasionally drove to the Barrackpore end of the town, the deserted streets only lit by the faint glimmer of an occasional oil lamp, and the stillness broken now and again by a troop of jackals yelling, and then scampering off, as if pursued by the Prince of Darkness. On such occasions one of the troop is supposed to say—and it certainly sounds remarkably like it—“I smell the body of a dead Hindoo,” when the rest join in with, “Whe-re, whe-re, whe-re!” in a very shrill voice. Of places of amusement, theatres and the like, there seemed absolutely none. I soon discovered too that _everything_ in the East was diametrically opposed to our Western notions, and, among other instances, it was customary for new arrivals to call on the residents, instead of _vice versa_, as at home.