There is hunting of jackals and foxes, and
peradventure a hyena now and then, with thoroughbred
English foxhounds; there is very good
hawking, quail, snipe, partridge, and makhoor
(wild goat) shooting. There are fishing, cricket,
racquets, and in the hot weather swimming.
Time passes pleasantly on until the time comes
for two or three months' privilege leave, when
away we go to spend our holidays in the lovely
vale of Cashmere or the pleasant hill stations of
the Himalaya Mountains. Even then, we are glad
to get back to see how men and horses, hawks,
and hounds, have been thriving in our absence.

The mode of travel is peculiar to the Punjab
Frontier force, and is generally accomplished
by a system of posting. Should an officer wish
to proceed from one station to another—the
stations are generally one hundred miles apart—
he writes to a friend at the other end of his
journey to post him half way. In case he is
friendless, he writes to the officer commanding
the station, when horses will be posted for him
at intervals of six and seven miles. The
traveller is supposed to have already got horses
posted half way from the station he is leaving.

It may seem strange that horses should so
easily be had for posting. But forage is
cheaper than in the rest of India, and thus
the necessity of visiting the frontier posts,
joined to the natural love of horseflesh, causes
frontier officers generally to possess at least
two horses, while the cavalry officers own three
or four. I have known an officer commanding
a cavalry regiment to have seven horses, four of
which were first-rate chargers. Men, too, who
will not lend their horses never get the loan of
horses for themselves; and this in a country
where all travelling is accomplished on horse-
back is a great inconvenience.

The journey of a hundred miles is often done
in one day, but oftener in two, unless the torrents
are down, in which case it may be requisite to
wait till they dry a little. But "If possible,
move on," is the unwritten law of the frontier.

When the rivers are down (as they may be
after only a few hours of rain), a traveller may
be seen on the bank of the river with what
seems to be a roll of leather under his arm;
but which, after a deal of puffing, swells into
a large bladder, commonly called a mussuck.
Supported on this, after the manner of the
ancient Assyrians and other people of the East,
the traveller grasps his horse's bridle, and swims
over with his steed to the other side.

Travellers on the frontier, if Europeans, are
obliged to have a mounted escort with them.
Stations of cavalry and mounted police are kept
on the road by government for purposes of
escort.

Officers invariably travel armed, for the
Afghans like to boast around their camp fires,
in their own hills, that they have spilled the
blood of an Englishman. Many a fine fellow
on the frontier has fallen before the knife or
bullet of an assassin. Not long ago, a lady was
shot at and wounded by one of these fanatics,
who, before his execution, evinced great
penitence: saying that he had mistaken her for a
gentleman, as she wore a hat and had large
buttons on her cloak.

SICK SILKWORMS.

THERE was lamentation among us boys in
the High School of Dolehurst. Pet mania
broke out amongst us with considerable violence.
Some took to guinea-pigs, which came to grief;
others preferred rabbits, which the master's
gardener killed, and said it was the foxes; one
or two fed pigeons, which flew away or fell to
the cat. There was one youth, of a mercantile
turn, who invested in laying hens, built up a
coop in the playground, and made pocket-money
of his eggs. At last most of us took to
rearing silkworms; for the old mulberry-tree in
the cottage garden offered us enviable facilities
in the way of food. We hatched the eggs cased
in flannel bags, comfortably in our bosoms,
and kept the worms in card boxes on shelves
among our books, to the horror of chambermaids;
for the caterpillars would creep out,
and they are not pleasant things to find upon
the sheets. We had cocoons in abundance, and
spun fine silk capitally. We reared new broods
from thousands of eggs, and nearly converted
the dormitory into a menagerie. The master
rather encouraged us occasionally, by lecturing
on silk, its uses, its origin, and manufacture.
If we horrified young sisters during the holidays
by an exposition of our pets—especially those
in the flannel bags—we had something to say
to the higher powers about the raw material of
cassocks and bright ribbons. My father soon
knew (from our erudite store) all about the
two monks who, in Justinian's time, stole
away some larvæ from Cochin China in the
hollow of a cane, and thus introduced the
silkworm into Europe. We could prove that
Virgil was napping when he supposed that
the Chinese combed silk from leaves of certain
trees. We could and did explain what Horace
meant by his bis tincta murice vestes, and
proved to our cousins, most satisfactorily, that
Roman ladies occasionally dressed in gauze, and
were satirised by the fogies of old Rome. Our
ugly pets were tolerated, and I now think
kept us out of not a little mischief.

But at last misfortunes came upon us.
Our pets sickened and died, transformed into
mummies, desiccated specimens ready for a
museum. At first, a single dark spot appeared
on the back of the caterpillar; then the spots
multiplied. The doctor, confidentially
consulted, told us our pets had got "pebrine," or
pepper disease. The caterpillars indeed looked
as if some one had mischievously dusted them
with black pepper (poivroine). By the aid of
his lancet, he showed us that the blackness
passed under the skin, all through the tissues,
and into the blood. We saw it, even on the
scales of the perfect moth. It was the veritable
plague spot, for all the creatures attacked died
—not usually, indeed, in the caterpillar state