at imminent risk of his life, he ran away.
Tea he had never before tasted, and on sampling a cup, he made a wry
face. This, however, was because it was too strong, for having diluted
it with an equal quantity of brandy, he drank it with relish.

After a visit to the battlefield of Meeanee [293] the Burtons returned
to Bombay in time for the feast of Muharram, and saw the Moslem miracle
play representing the martyrdom and death of Hassan and Hossein, the
sons of Ali. Then Mirza Ali Akbar, Burton's old munshi, called on them.
As his visiting card had been printed Mirza Ally Akbar, Burton enquired
insultingly whether his old friend claimed kin with Ally Sloper. In
explanation the Mirza said that the English were accustomed to spell his
name so, and as he did not in the least mind what he was called, he had
fallen in with the alteration.

84. Golconda.

On February 21st the Burtons left Bombay and journeyed by way of Poona
to Hyderabad, where they were hospitably entreated by Major Nevill, the
Commander-in-Chief of the Nizam's troops, and Sir Salar Jung, the Prime
Minister. They rode through the town on elephants, saw the Nizam's
palace, which was "a mile long and covered with delicate tracery," an
ostrich race, an assault-at-arms, and fights between cocks and other
creatures. At "Hyderabad," says Mrs. Burton, "they fight every kind of
animal." "A nautch," which Sir Salah gave in their honour, Mrs.
Burton found tame, for the girls did nothing but eat sweetmeats and
occasionally run forward and twirl round for a moment with a half-bold,
semi-conscious look. [294]

Then followed the visit to Golconda and its tombs of wax-like Jaypur
marble, with their arabesqued cupolas and lacery in stone. Here Burton
accumulated a good deal of miscellaneous information about diamond
mining, and came to the conclusion that the industry in India generally,
and especially in Golconda, had been prematurely abandoned; and
endeavoured by means of letters to the press and in other ways to enlist
the sympathies of the British capitalists. But everything that he wrote
on the subject, as on kindred subjects, has a distinctly quixotic ring,
and we fear he would not have been a very substantial pillar for the
British capitalist to lean against. He was always, in such matters, the
theorist rather than the practical man--in other words, the true son of
his own father.

The Burtons then returned to Bombay, which they reached in time to take