Behind us there was a large amphitheatre of elephants belonging to our own camp, or to the Sikhs, and thousands of Runjeet's followers all dressed in yellow or red satin, with quantities of their led horses _trapped_ in gold and silver tissues, and all of them sparkling with jewels. I really never saw so dazzling a sight. Three or four Sikhs would look like Astley's broke loose, but this immense body of them saves their splendour from being melodramatic. The old man himself wears a sort of red stuff dress with a little edging of the commonest grey squirrel's fur, and a common red muslin turban. His horse, too, had less gold about it than any other. He was quite delighted with the review, and at the end of it his servants put down before him eleven bags, each containing 1,000 rupees, to be distributed among the troops. When everything was done, all the chief people went to one tent, which we had pitched on the ground, where there was a _déjeûner à la fourchette_ and all the right things. I drove straight home to our camp as soon as the troops had marched by, so I did not see the breakfast; but the cookery and the turn-out altogether seemed to have given such satisfaction, that I have just been buying a handsome diamond ring which G. is to present to St. Cloup, who is an absolute black angel. He went over-night to the review ground to cook his breakfast, then back here again, for a dinner of sixteen people, and to-morrow we are to have Runjeet in the evening, and a supper, or rather a dinner, for seventy people. St. Cloup says, with two English kitchenmaids nothing would be so easy, but the instant he goes to rest all the natives fling themselves on the floor and are asleep in a minute, leaving the saucers to take themselves off the fire.