patched
roof, inconceivably filthy within and without, and it was Her Majesty's.
There was another tonga,--an _aram_ tonga, a carriage of ease--but the
Englishman was not to have it. It was reserved for a Rajput Thakur who
was going to Udaipur with his "tail." The Thakur, in claret-coloured
velvet with a blue turban, a revolver--Army pattern--a sword, and five
or six friends, also with swords, came by and indorsed the statement.
Now, the mail tonga had a wheel which was destined to become the Wheel
of Fate, and to lead to many curious things. Two diseased yellow ponies
were extracted from a dung-hill and yoked to the tonga; and after due
deliberation Her Majesty's mail started, the Thakur following.

In twelve hours, or thereabouts, the seventy miles between Chitor and
Udaipur would be accomplished. Behind the tonga cantered an armed sowar.
He was the guard. The Thakur's tonga came up with a rush, ran
deliberately across the bows of the Englishman, chipped a pony, and
passed on. One lives and learns. The Thakur seems to object to following
the foreigner.

At the halting-stages, once in every six miles, that is to say, the
ponies were carefully undressed and all their accoutrements fitted more
or less accurately on to the backs of any ponies that might happen to be
near; the released animals finding their way back to their stables alone
and unguided. There were no grooms, and the harness hung on by special
dispensation of Providence. Still the ride over a good road, driven
through a pitilessly stony country, had its charms for a while. At
sunset the low hills turned to opal and wine-red and the brown dust flew
up pure gold; for the tonga was running straight into the sinking sun.
Now and again would pass a traveller on a camel, or a gang of
_Bunjarras_[7] with their pack-bullocks and their women; and the sun
touched the brasses of their swords and guns till the poor wretches
seemed rich merchants come back from travelling with Sindbad.

[7] Gipsy traders.

On a rock on the right-hand side, thirty-four great vultures were
gathered over the carcass of a steer. And this was an evil omen. They
made unseemly noises as the tonga passed, and a raven came out of a
bush on the right and answered them. To crown all, one of the hide and
skin castes sat on the left-hand side of the road, cutting up some of
the flesh that he had stolen from the vultures. Could a man desire three
more inauspicious signs for a night's travel? Twili