At last, however, he who had been standing on the defensive, following with his hawk’s eye the other’s strutting gyrations, perceiving an advantage, levelled a blow at his adversary with the rapidity of lightning, which was caught on the target and returned as quick as thought. A rapid and animated exchange of strokes now took place, accompanied by the most agile bounds and movements; most of these blows rattled on the targets; head and shoulders, nevertheless, came in for an ample share of ugly hits. The fight at length ceased, and the breathless and exhausted combatants rested from their gladiatorial exhibition, amidst many “_wau, waus_” and “_shabases_” (“bravos”)! resigning their weapons to two others anxious to display their prowess. Subsequent experience of them has convinced me that a finer body of men is hardly to be found than the sepoys of Hindostan, particularly in their own country; for, taken out of it into a climate where the food, water, &c., disagree with them, they lose much of their spirit and stamina. Our countryman, the British soldier, possesses an unrivalled energy and bull-dog courage, which certainly, when the tug of war—the hour of real danger—comes, must, as it ever has done, bear everything before it; but justice demands the admission that, in many other respects, the sepoy contrasts most favourably with him—temperate, respectful, patient, subordinate, and faithful—one of his highest principles being “fidelity to his salt,” he adds to no ordinary degree of courage every other requisite of a good soldier. A judicious policy towards these men, based on a thorough knowledge of their peculiar characteristics, may bind them to us for ages yet to come, by the double link of affection and interest, and enable us, as an Indian power, to laugh alike at foreign foes and domestic enemies; whilst a contrary course, and leaving their feelings and customs to be trifled with by inexperienced innovators, may, ere long, produce an opposite effect, and cause them, if once alienated, to shake us off “like dew-drops from the lion’s mane.” Serais, or places of entertainment for wayfarers—well known to all readers of Eastern tales as caravan-serais—I frequently met with at towns on my march, and sometimes encamped within or near the walls. The serais, like the generality of buildings in India, are almost always in a ruinous state, it being nobody’s business to keep them in a state of repair. These structures, some of them the fruits of the piety and munificence of former times, are a great public benefit; their construction is generally similar, and consists of four walls of brick, stone, or mud, sometimes battlemented, forming a parallelogram, having gateways at two opposite sides, through which the high road usually passes. Small cells or apartments, with arched entrances, run round the interior, in any one of which the weary traveller may spread his mat, smoke his pipe, and enjoy his repose as long as he pleases.