h gave him a taste for "parrot books," [62] on which he became an
authority; while the study of the Baital-Pachisi led to his writing
Vikram and the Vampire. [63] All this application caused his fellow
officers to call him "The White Nigger."

Although, in after years, Burton often made bitter attacks on
Christianity, and wrote most scathingly against the Roman Catholic
priesthood, and the cenobitic life of the monks, yet at times he had
certain sympathies with Roman Catholicism. Thus at Baroda, instead
of attending the services of the garrison chaplain, he sat under the
pleasant Goanese priest who preached to the camp servants; but he did
not call himself a Catholic. In August he visited Bombay to be examined
in Gujarati; and having passed with distinction, he once more returned
to Baroda--just in time to join in the farewell revels of his regiment,
which was ordered to Sind.

10. Karachi. Love of Disguise.

On board the Semiramis, in which the voyage was performed, he made the
acquaintance of Captain Scott, nephew of the novelist--a handsome man
"with yellow hair and beard," and friendship followed. Both were fond
of ancient history and romance, and Burton, who could speak Italian
fluently and had knowledge of the canalization of the Po Valley, was
able to render Scott, whose business was the surveyal of Sind,
the precise assistance he just then required. Burton also formed a
friendship with Dr. John Steinhauser, afterwards surgeon at Aden. Then,
too, it was at Karachi that he first saw his hero, Sir Charles Napier.
Though his ferocious temper repelled some, and his Rabelaisisms and
kindred witticisms others, Sir Charles won the admiration and esteem of
almost all who knew him. It was from him, to some extent, that Burton
acquired the taste, afterwards so extraordinarily developed for erotic,
esoteric and other curious knowledge. Napier intensely hated the East
India Company, as the champions of his detested rival, Major Outram, and
customarily spoke of them contemptuously as the "Twenty-four kings of
Leadenhall Street," while Burton on his part felt little respect for the
effete and maundering body whose uniform he wore and whose pay he drew.

Karachi [64], then not much better than a big village, was surrounded
by walls which were perforated with "nostril holes," for pouring
boiling water through in times of siege. There were narrow lanes, but
no streets--the only open place being a miserable bazaar; whil