Ellenborough and put the little rajah in his arms and begged to be forgiven.

'This will be a disconnected sort of letter, but I shall write down anything which I know to be true and think worth mentioning.

In the battle of Maharajpore a horse artilleryman in Lane's troop had his foot shot off at the ankle, but as it was necessary to move the gun at the time, and there was nobody to supply his place in the saddle, he refused every entreaty to dismount, though he said he would do so directly they could get anyone to drive in his stead. He rode on, doing his duty for some time, and until he was relieved, but he died the same evening.

'Cavanagh, of the 4th Irregular Cavalry, lately married, wrote a short letter to his wife before going into action, saying there had been a fight and that he was all safe and sound, meaning to send it off at the first opportunity, which he did, poor fellow, but he was obliged to add that he had lost a leg.

'General Churchill, it is said, went up to a fellow with a cane in his hand, and called out to him to give up his sword. The fellow preferred laying over Churchill's headi.e. cut him down, and when on the ground a round shot struck him and knocked his leg to smithereens. It was amputated, but he sunk under the operation. A great number of our men were blown up, the enemy having mined a great part of the ground, and, besides that, they put matches to their tumbrils.

'Gwalior itself is a very fine-looking fort, on the top of a large rock, apparently scarped on all sides; but we are about a mile from it, and are not allowed to

go and see it yet. You shall see some sketches of it some day.'

By January 5 the whole of the British forces had arrived before Gwalior, but there was no further fighting. On January 9 the disbanding of the Gwalior army began, and by the 17th it was completed. Meanwhile, on January 13, the treaty had been ratified and British supremacy established.1

On the 15th Reynell Taylor writes again to his father. Hostilities were over, and he had time to turn his attention to other matters.

'Here I am on picket again. We should have had a lot of broken heads if we had forced the Antree pass, for we hear now that the enemy had mined the whole of it. This is a style of fighting they seem rather partial to, but it is one for which every soldier has a most particular aversion.

'The Commander-in-Chief held a levée the other day, which we all attended. He is a remarkably fine, activelooking man. General Smith came out of the crowd of Panjendrums to shake me kindly by the hand, and on my lamenting that we had not had more to do in the late affair, he told me that I could not eat my cake and have it, and bid me wait for the Punjab. I see, in looking back, that I have said that I shall ever regret not having been pushed on, but I do not consider it my place to say anything of the kind. That I did much regret it is perhaps a justification for what I wrote, but to say that I shall ever regret it is not true, for on cool reflection I have ceased to regret it already. Enough was done to show these

'Taylor received the bronze star for his services in the campaign.

fellows that we were rough customers at a game of sharps, and, after all, there is sound philosophy in living to fight another day as long as it is not accompanied by the first part of the old adage.

'I fancy we shall march from this soon now, as affairs are nearly settled. I believe there is to be a grand tamashah to put the yoùng rajah on his throne, and then we shall wend our respective ways home.

'Yesterday I went out with Charley Beecher and Tucker, of the 8th Cavalry, in search of some bears that infest the neighbouring hills. We started in the dark, I mean about four in the morning, and reached the most likely ground about daylight. It was a most lovely scene, more like Bradley Vale than anything I can give for a comparison, but you must add, running along the crests on each side, a lofty range of crags, sometimes jutting out and overhanging the valley, and sometimes receding in cold gloomy clefts. The whole of these crags were covered, wherever there was the least soil, with trees, in some places so thick that it was a hard matter to force one's way through them. We had hardly gone a hundred yards before we found fresh traces of bears. This gave a thrilling interest to our work, and we laboured on over loose stones, slippery slabs, and tangled brushwood, in a manner that, without the excitement, would have soon knocked us up. I could not help thinking of the American's prayer before engaging with a bear when we were poking about their habitations. (Don't think that I am trifling with serious subjects if I repeat it. It amounts to this: "O Lord, if you won't help me, don't help the bear.")

'Don't let mother think it is an overdangerous amuse

ment, it is one where I should always like to be sure of the nerve and character of my friends, but if you are sure of that, and of yourself, the danger is comparatively small. When he is within five paces of you he generally rears himself on his hind legs and dances up for a hug, and one ball coolly placed is enough for a bear.

'Well, we toiled on for an hour or so without success, and so took to our cold meat and beer. When we had finished our meal and were sauntering about, we were roused from our lethargy by a sound not to be mistaken-the terrific roar of a charging bear, followed by the yell of the fellow he had attacked, and then by the hulloo of every man within hearing. We three, guns in hand, were very soon half way to the scene of action, our men following us as best they could with our second guns. We came to a couple of men, who just pointed the way the bear had gone, and on we pressed in his rear. I suppose we had not struggled eighty yards through the jungle when we heard a hullabaloo in front of us. We knew very well what this meant. Johnny Bruin had come upon another party of camp followers, and would probably be turned back. We advanced silently and rapidly, I on the right, Beecher in the middle, and Tucker on the left. Beecher thought I was too much to the right, and sung out to me to come down lower, which I did. Had it not been for this, ten seconds afterwards I should have met the bear in his very path. A few seconds afterwards I heard a heavy rush through the grass to my right. I knew it was the bear immediately, and ran as hard as I could, hoping to get a good shot at him. At this moment he caught sight of somebody, and gaveCrikey, Bill!—such a roar ; then I caught sight of him, a fine

I should have thrown away

fellow, as black as my hat. my fire had I shot at him, as I was running and he was cantering. He passed behind some bushes, and then "bang!" went Beecher. I made towards him as quick as I could, and reached his elbow just as he fired his second barrel, but I could not see the bear at the moment. I ran

as hard as I could in the direction Beecher had fired, and while I was running I heard Tucker fire both barrels on my right, and in the bottom of the valley we nearly ran against each other, but I was not in time to get a shot. We followed him as sharp as we could, and very soon found traces of blood in his foot tracks. We traced him for some mile and a quarter, and at last tracked him to a cave That he had attempted to go into it there can be no doubt, for the stones were smeared with blood. We accordingly determined to smoke him out if possible. There were two mouths to the cave, one above and one below; the fire was applied to the lower one, and soon the smoke began to issue, and there we stood, like terriers at the mouth of a rat-hole, till the smoke, issuing from the upper mouth of the cave, we were obliged to allow that the beast was not there. So ended all real excitement. We struck off on a fresh beast, but with no success. I am going after them again to-morrow, and will let you know the result. Good-night; such a bore sleeping in boots.'

Four days later, January 19, he writes, still from before Gwalior :

'The second bear expedition was a failure, and I am not destined to kill one this season.

'Affairs are going on well here, and the fellows are