'Up the Country': Letters Written to Her Sister from the Upper Provinces of IndiaEden, Emily
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'Up the Country': Letters Written to Her Sister from the Upper Provinces of India
Eden, Emily
Eden, Emily, 1797-1869 -- Correspondence; India -- Description and travel
One chair and table for G. at one end, with a supply of office boxes,
two sofas for F. and me, with a book a-piece, and two cane chairs for A.
and B., each pretending to read, but looking uncomfortable and stiff. I
missed my old parasol about three days ago, and discovered to-day that
Jimmund had applied to my jemadar for it, because he thought Chance's
ailments were brought on by the sun; and Wright says she passed him
to-day marching down the hill with Chance in one hand and the parasol
held over him with the other--a pretty idea. This morning I came on in
the palanquin, a wretched substitute for the carriage, but anything is
better than sitting bolt upright before breakfast--in fact, it is quite
impossible.
W. has had great sport at last--at least, everybody says it is great
sport. I cannot imagine anything more unpleasant. They found six tigers
at once in a ravine. Two charged W.'s elephant, and three General E.'s;
one of them disturbed a hornet's nest, and W. says he has since taken
fifty stings out of his face. The bank of the ravine gave way, and he
and his elephant came down within a yard of one tiger, which was however
too much wounded to do any harm. Altogether the party have killed eight,
and are coming back very much delighted with having been very nearly
eaten up, and then stung to death.
Raepore, Thursday, March 29.
Only five more days. I get such fits of bore with being doddled about
for three hours before breakfast in a sedan-chair, that I have a sort of
mad wish to tell the bearers to turn back and go home, quite home, all
the way to England. I wonder if I were to call 'coach' as loud as I
could, if it would do any good. It would be a relief to my feelings. An
unfortunate Brahmin came to Dr. D. at Nahun in the most horrible state
of agony, from that disease of which poor Mr. ---- died. Dr. D. had him
carried down, and yesterday he attempted the cure. Anything so horrible
as the man's screams I never heard; indeed, I thought it was some
animal, and sent out to ask what was the matter. It was the longest and
worst operation Dr. D. said he ever witnessed, but the man insisted on
it. His family have cut him off, but if he lives, it will be very easy
to give him all he wants. He is very ill, and had to be carried on
thirteen miles in a dhoolie.
Friday, March 30.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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