luxurious breakfast of ration pork, fried in the
lid of a camp-kettle; the sugar and coffee had
been put into the kettle itself, and boiled
together.

Kolar, the town which the Irish lieutenant
had partly burnt the previous day, was attacked
and destroyed; but there was very little else
done worth mentioning. The enemy carried away
their killed and wounded, so that we saw none
except those actually killed in the advance.

As usual, we were embarrassed by our native
allies. They did not understand civilised warfare,
and seemed to merit the epithets of cowardly
and murderous. They wouldn't go in advance,
but after our troops had driven the Woolahs out
of any place, these wretches rushed in to loot,
and murdered any unfortunate who might have
been unable to escape.

On this day the guns and mules of the French
captain were landed. The mules were splendid
animals, sixteen hands high. They were fitted
with pack-saddles, and one mule carried the gun,
whilst another carried the limber and wheels.
They are much better suited to a savage country
than our artillery. Although we had four horses
to a twelve-pounder, they could not get on at
the pace the mules did.

On the following day our force in the river
was increased; for an admiral came up in the
Spitfire, a commodore in the Valiant, and with
them H.M.S. Hawk. About four hundred
seamen and marines were landed; also the
commodore, and a gallant colonel, the governor
of Musseguiob.

We formed in front of the encampment at
three P.M., and marched on Baloo and Kahome,
with about fifteen hundred men. The marines
were very fine fellows, and they came out
splendidly in contrast with the Zouave dress and
black faces of the West India regiments. The
sailors looked on the expedition as a lark, but
highly disapproved of the conduct of the enemy,
at whom they discharged many expressive
adjectives and other expletives, significant of
disgust at their not showing "more fight."
For the Woolahs would never wait till we came
up; they bolted from Baloo, and so they did
again from Kahome. We really thought they
were going to make a stand at Kahome, and
there were guns to the front, and shell and
rocket practice. Upon this, the enemy retired
into the town, the guns limbered up, the sailors,
marines, and the 99th advanced; there were
two or three volleys, a rush, and Kahome was
taken.

Who could wonder that the people of Burrabaloo
did not stand? They learnt the very first
day that we had a gun which killed to a certainty
at a thousand yards while theirs was uncertain
at a hundred; and, in addition, we had
fieldpieces, howitzers, and rockets, which the
prisoners told us destroyed all their calculations.

Sailors are capital creatures, but their manners
and customs are sometimes objectionable. On
entering Kahome, the Woolahs had disappeared,
and, as there was no enemy, one very hairy sailor
rushed into a house to secure a goat, the goat
ran into an inner room; but, finding no exit
there, returned full tilt, and, as Jack stood in
the doorway, jumped over his shoulders. Jack,
without the slightest hesitation, turned round
and fired after him. A medical officer happened
to be leaning against the side of the door, and the
bullet passed nearer to his head than was agreeable.
"Jack," says his pal outside, "you've
nearly shot the doctor." "Have I now!" says
Jack, with great frankness; "take a drink,
your honour."

Later on, we met a large flock of sheep. This
was too much for the sailors; every man fired
in any and every direction; and how it was that
they did not make a " body" of some one, I
can't tell.

The town was now on fire; and, as we had
marched ten miles in the sun, we were very
tired. The marines were resting, when they saw
a crowd approaching, so they jumped up and
fell in. But a black fellow came running up,
and shouted, " Don't fire, don't fire! We your
friends!" If they were, they took a strange
way of showing it; for they came up to within a
hundred yards, and then fired a volley. This
was not looked on as a friendly act, and the
marines returned it with interest, so our
"friends" retreated, leaving their dead on the
field.

At six P.M. we began to retire; the marines
and blue-jackets first, and then the 98th; the 99th
covering the movement. It was soon dark, but
we had light enough from the burning towns in
our path. The stacks of ground-nuts burned
with great fury; and, after the blaze was out,
caked and looked like iron at a white heat.
The enemy's cavalry— report said the king
had a thousand— followed us at a respectful
distance. If they had had any dash, they might
have cut off a good many of us, as we were
obliged to halt repeatedly to allow stragglers to
come up.

Close to the camp, the bullets again began to
whistle about our ears, and our first idea was
that the Woolahs had attacked it. But it was
only our noble native allies who were celebrating
the victory by discharging their guns, neither
knowing nor caring whom they might hit.

Two or three days passed. Our camp in the
swamp was, of course, frightfully unhealthy, and
the loss of men would have been very great had
it not been for the action and excitement of the
campaign. At length, after many urgent
representations, the controlling powers were
persuaded to move to higher ground, and we
encamped on the crest of the ridge. Here, we
were troubled with dust-storms. You would see
a spiral column of dust, thirty or forty feet high,
and confined to a space of about a hundred
yards, coming towards you. It fills eyes, nose,
and hair with sand, upsets everything
movable, and strikes your tent unless it is very
firmly fixed.

During the day the thermometer stood at a
hundred and ten degrees in the shade— rather
warm for the work we had; moreover, sleeping
in one's clothes for a week in this climate, does