ming bungalow at Bandora. In a previous chapter we
referred to him as a Jehu. He now had a private coach and team--rather
a wonder in that part of the world, and drove it himself. Of his skill
with the ribbons he was always proud, and no man could have known more
about horses. Some of the fruits of his experience may be seen in an
article [287] which he contributed to Baily's Magazine (April 1883) in
which he ranks driving with such accomplishments as drawing, painting
and music. His interest in the languages and literatures of the East
was as keen as ever, but though he had already collected material for
several books he does not seem to have published anything prior to 1881.
He took his friends out everywhere in his four-in-hand, and they saw to
advantage some of the sights of Burton's younger days. With the bungalow
Mrs. Burton was in raptures. On the eve of the Tabut feast, she tells
us, the Duke of Sutherland (formerly Lord Stafford) joined the party;
and a number of boys dressed like tigers came and performed some native
dancing with gestures of fighting and clawing one another, "which," she
adds oddly, "was exceedingly graceful."

The principal event of this visit, however, was Burton's introduction
to that extraordinary and Diogenes-like scholar, Edward Rehatsek. Lady
Burton does not even mention Rehatsek's name, and cyclopaedias are
silent concerning him; yet he was one of the most remarkable men of his
time, and henceforward Burton was in constant communication with him.
Born on 3rd July 1819, at Illack, in Austria, Edward Rehatsek was
educated at Buda Pesth, and in 1847 proceeded to Bombay, where he
settled down as Professor of Latin and mathematics at Wilson College.
He retired from his professorship in 1871, and settled in a reed-built
native house, not so very much bigger than his prototype's tub, at
Khetwadi. Though he had amassed money he kept no servants, but went
every morning to the bazaar, and purchased his provisions, which he
cooked with his own hand. He lived frugally, and his dress was mean and
threadbare, nevertheless, this strange, austere, unpretentious man was
one of the greatest linguists of his time. Not only could he speak most
of the languages of the East, including Arabic and Persian, but he wrote
good idiomatic English. To his translations, and his connection with the
Kama Shastra Society, we shall refer later. He was visited in his humble
home only by his principal friend, Mr. Arbuthnot