Day after day, in this smiling tract of country, the same prospect met him. There were fields of green paddy and rustling sugar-cane, and sheets of feathery dal, with which the large blue-green leaves of the castor-oil plant contrasted curiously; and, interspersed with these, were tracts of marsh and jungle, and a few pleasant groves of mango and neem. April had opened. The heat was terrible in the day-time; but it was a dry heat, and Tom stood it marvellously well. For the most part they travelled at night or very early in the morning. During the forenoon, and in the awful noontide, their camp would be pitched either under a huge banyan tree by the wayside--whose dry, thirsty roots were hanging down raggedly to seek the soil, while its glorious over-canopy of leafage made a shelter from the sweltering sunlight--or in a grove on the outskirts of a village or town. Sometimes he slept, but oftener he thought and listened. How silent it was in these noontide hours! Now and then he would catch a rustle as a lizard or snake crept through the dry grass, or there would be a flutter overhead, where the little wild birds--parroquets and mynas--sought a precarious shelter, or a scream when some bird of prey swooped down upon them. But for the most part, even the vultures and the hawks, and the hideous flying-foxes, that hung in uncouth bags from the trees, were quiet. Man, meanwhile, was at peace, having no energy even for labour. Through the woods came no ring of hammer or axe: the tramp of the wanderer had ceased along the road, and long, swathed figures, motionless as the sheeted dead, lay under the trees and in the shadow of walls and houses. The whole earth lay weltering in a fiery bath. With the drawing on of evening there would be movement. Flocks of parroquets would rush out of the tree-tops screaming discordantly: birds of prey would prune their wings and set off slowly, with harsh cries, in search of food; and the confused murmur of a restless humanity would begin again. Then the rajah's heir would emerge from his shelter, and, while his tent was being taken down, and his camels laden, would stroll into the nearest village. There he would often take his seat on the chiboutra, under a spreading tree, where the talkers met together to discuss, over their hookahs, such important matters as the price of grain and cattle. They welcomed him with the grave courtesy of Indians; but whether they spoke freely in his presence he could not tell. Except in one or two cases, when a Hindoo priest or a Moulvie from a distance had visited the district, he heard nothing which could lead him to suppose that there was any widespread spirit of disaffection, while English magistrates were often spoken of in his presence with a respect bordering on adoration. So he went on towards Gumilcund with an easier mind. CHAPTER XV THE RANEE OF JHANSI