We did not catch many fish--the mahseer were shy that
morning--but fortunately we did not entirely depend on the caprices of the
mahseer for our sustenance, and a remarkably well-fed and contented
quartette we were when we got into the gig while the day was yet young,
and rowed home as quickly as might be in order to escape the heat which at
noonday is still great.
This afternoon we went for a (to us) novel tea picnic. A State elephant
appeared by request, and we climbed upon him with ladders, and he
proceeded to roll leisurely along at the rate of about two and a half
miles an hour towards the foot of a hill, on the top of which stood a
small summer palace.
The afternoon was warm, and the rhythmic pace drowsy, but our steed was
determined to amuse us and benefit himself. So he blew great blasts of
spray at his own forelegs and chest to cool himself, and now and then made
shocking bad shots at so large a target, and, getting a trifle too much
elevation, nearly swept us from our lofty perch.
Fortunately his stock of spray gave out ere long, or he found that the
increasing gradient of the hill took all his breath, for we were left at
leisure to admire the widening view until we reached the top.
Here we had tea in one of the cool halls, and then sat watching the sun
sink towards the hills that stretch to Mount Aboo.
To the south-east lay Udaipur, milk-white along the margin of its "marled"
waters.
On our way home we met with an adventure.
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