Things stood thus, my party a little scattered, and all advancing through the reedy margin of a winding piece of water (well stocked with alligators, I had not the slightest doubt), when a shout, a yelp from Teazer, a violent rush, a glimpse of some animal, an instinctive discharge of my gun, and a huge hog-deer rolled head-over-heels at my feet; all the work of an instant, into which was compressed as much alarm (for verily I thought it was one of the royals) as would have served (diluted into anxiety) for seasoning six months’ ordinary existence. Truly proud was I of my exploit, as the hog-deer, doubled-up, lay kicking at my feet, in the agonies of death. By a fortunate chance, I had lodged the whole charge of shot under his shoulder. Never was griffin more elated. “What will the captain now say?” thought I; “no more jeers or undervaluing of my sporting qualifications after this!” My first care now, after slinging the deer, was to get out of the jungle—for this successful feat had given a new relish to existence, and I felt indisposed to run more risks. His legs were soon tied; a young tree was cut, and thrust through them; and, supported by four men, I proceeded in triumph to my budgerow. “Well, Mr. Gernon, you have indeed been fortunate this time,” said Miss Belfield. The kind captain also congratulated me on my success, but warned me against venturing on foot in such places again, as, in fact, I had really incurred considerable risk. In return, I favoured them with a detailed account of my whole day’s operations. The hog-deer, being a very bulky animal, served to feast the whole crew and domestics, his throat having been cut when he fell, without which operation no Mahomedan would have touched him. We also had some collops of the flesh, which were tolerably good, though not to be compared to an English haunch of venison. I am not writing a book of travels, so shall touch but lightly on the scenes and occurrences which presented themselves on our subsequent route to Dinapore, where my friends and I parted—they remaining there, I, after a time, continuing my onward course to the capital of the Moguls. Hitherto, our route had lain through Bengal, a country of mud huts and inundations; but we were now approaching a higher level, and one inhabited by a finer race, living in a superior climate, and where the Mahomedan spirit, which approaches nearer to our own, has imparted its more enduring traces in the shape of substantial towns, and more lasting, though still decaying monuments and edifices. Captain Belfield had excited our curiosity by his account of the ruins of Rajmahal, the some time transient capital of Bengal, during the reign of the Emperor Aurungzebe, and we consequently indulged in pleasing anticipations of the rambling and sketching we were to enjoy there.