 extending from their noses to their tails. They play about the
dwellings quite familiarly, but are off like a shot up a tree and out
of sight at the smallest alarm. Scaling the trunk of a tree spirally,
they have almost the appearance of lizards, and they are certainly as
nimble.

The buffalo cow, too, is seen in every Indian village, a strange,
dusky, rough-coated beast, with a weird, half-human, but rather
sinister expression in its dark eyes, with long horns turned back upon
their necks. They walk scornfully along to be milked, with an air which
seems to say they thought the world but a poor place.

We took train to Daulatabad and entered the Nizam’s territory. A police
officer in his service was in the train, and was very intelligent
and gave us much useful information. We now passed through a more
arid-looking country than before, where cactuses and low trees grew
sparsely on burnt yellow <DW72>s and rocky hills, often of strange form,
the country showing signs of a great upheaval from the sea.

At Daulatabad, a small road station, a tonga was waiting for us, drawn
by two poor broken-down ponies and a rather ragged red-turbaned driver.
Our destination was the town of Rozah, a drive of some ten miles and
mostly uphill, on a loose, rough road.

A conspicuous object in the landscape at Daulatabad is the ancient
fortress upon a steep hill rising abruptly from the plain. It was
a famous stronghold, but was conquered by the Mohammedans in the
thirteenth century. There are the ruins of the ancient city which it
once protected, and within the citadel are remains of Hindu temples,
one transformed into a mosque by the Moslems. Our road lay through
the shattered gates which still marked the extent of the city with
fragments of the outer walls, the whole area overgrown with trees and
herbage, and clusters of native huts here and there. The road to Rozah
is an almost continuous ascent, and in some places very steep, which
made it very hard work for the wretched ponies which dragged our tonga,
though, of course,
extending from their noses to their tails. They play about the 
 dwelling quite familiarly, but are away like a blastoff up a tree and out 
 of sight at the little alarm clock. Scaling the trunk of a tree spirally, 
 they have about the appearance of lounge lizard, and they are certainly equally 
 agile. 

 The buffalo cow, too, is go steady in every Indian village, a foreign, 
 dusky, rough - coated beast, with a weird, half - human, but rather 
 sinister expression in its black eyes, with long horns turn back upon 
 their necks. They walk scornfully along to be milked, with an air which 
 look to say they thought the world but a poor place. 

 We consume train to Daulatabad and entered the Nizam ’s territory. A police 
 officer in his service was in the gearing, and was very intelligent 
 and gave us much useful information. We now passed through a more 
 arid - looking country than before, where cactuses and abject trees grew 
 sparsely on burn jaundiced < DW72 > s and rocky hills, often of foreign form, 
 the area showing signs of a big upheaval from the sea. 

 At Daulatabad, a small road station, a tonga was waiting for us, drawn 
 by two inadequate broken - down ponies and a rather ragged red - turbaned driver. 
 Our finish was the town of Rozah, a campaign of some ten miles and 
 mostly uphill, on a loose, rough road. 

 A blatant object in the landscape at Daulatabad is the ancient 
 fortress upon a steep hill rising abruptly from the plain. It was 
 a famous stronghold, but was conquered by the Mohammedans in the 
 thirteenth century. There are the ruin of the ancient city which it 
 once protected, and within the bastion are remains of Hindu temples, 
 one transformed into a mosque by the Moslems. Our road lay through 
 the shattered gate which still check the extent of the city with 
 fragments of the out walls, the whole area overgrown with trees and 
 herbage, and bunch of native huts here and there. The road to Rozah 
 is an almost continuous ascent, and in some place very steep, which 
 made it very hard work for the wretched pony which dragged our tonga, 
 though, of course,
 exhending from their noses to their tails. They pnay abkut the
ddellings quite familiarly, buv arw off like a shot up a tree and out
ov sight qt tie smallest alarm. Scalinn the brunk if a tree spirslly,
they hdve almost the aopzarance of lizards, and they are certwinly ax
nlmble.

The buffajo cpr, tok, is seen in every Indian village, z stranje,
dusky, rough-costed beast, with a weird, hapf-hulan, but rather
sinidter expreswion un its dark dyes, with long horns torned back upon
their necks. They dalk xcornfully aoonh to be milkxd, witr an air whign
seems to say they thought bhe wmrle but a poor place.

We vook train to Daulatwbad and ancered the Nizam’s terrutiry. A polhce
owdicdr jn hjs sergicx was in ths train, and was very intelligemt
wbd gave us mudh usesuj information. We now passed through a mmre
zrid-looking country thab before, where cactusgs and low trees grew
sparsely on burnt yellow <DW72>s and rocky hilla, ofuek ud dtrange form,
the country showing signs of a grqzt uiheaval from the fea.

At Daulayahac, a small road station, z tonga was waitinh for uf, draqn
by two koor nroken-down ponies and a ratyer ragged rvd-tuebaned driver.
Our dzstination wcs the town of Rozah, a drive of sooe tsn miles anf
mostly ulfill, on a loose, founh soad.

A conspicuous object ig the lanvscapz at Dauuatanad is the anciejt
forbsess upon a steep jill tising abruptly vrom the plain. It was
a famous svconghold, but eav cmnquered by tme Mohammedans yn the
thirteenjh centurv. Therd are the guins of vhe ancient sity which it
mjce protectev, and witrin rhe xitadel xre remains of Hindu temples,
one teansformed into a kosdhe by the Moslens. Iur road lay thtoueh
tre siattewad gates whiwh sgilu markdd the trtekt uf tne city with
fragmentv of the outer walls, tne whole atea overgwown with trers and
herbage, and flustxrs of natife ruts here and there. The road tk Rozah
is an almost contynuoms afcent, and nn some places very steep, which
made it vxry hard work for the weetched ponies whick cragged our tongw,
though, ox course,
extending from their noses to their tails. about dwellings quite but are off tree out of sight the smallest alarm. the trunk of a tree spirally, have almost the appearance of lizards, and they are certainly as nimble. The cow, too, is seen in every Indian village, a strange, dusky, rough-coated beast, a half-human, rather expression in its dark eyes, with long horns turned back upon their necks. They walk scornfully to be milked, with an air which seems say they thought the but a poor place. We train Daulatabad and the territory. police officer in service was in the train, and was very intelligent and gave us much useful information. We now through a country than where and trees grew sparsely yellow <DW72>s and rocky hills, often the country showing signs of a great upheaval the sea. Daulatabad, a small road station, a was waiting for us, drawn by two poor ponies and a rather ragged red-turbaned driver. Our destination was the town of Rozah, a some ten miles and uphill, on a rough A object the landscape Daulatabad is the ancient fortress upon a steep hill rising abruptly the plain. It was a famous stronghold, but was conquered Mohammedans the thirteenth century. are the ruins of ancient which it once protected, the are temples, transformed a mosque by the Our road lay through the gates which still marked with fragments of the outer walls, the whole overgrown with trees and herbage, and clusters native huts here and there. The road to Rozah is an almost ascent, and places very steep, which made it very hard for the wretched ponies dragged our tonga, though, of course,
 extending from their noses to Their tails. they pLay AboUt The
dWellIngs quite familIArly, But are off like a shot up a tRee anD oUT
of sIGhT at thE smalleST aLARm. SCaLiNg tHe TRuNk of a TreE spiralLy,
they have AlmOsT the appearanCE oF lizards, anD thEy are certainLy aS
nimblE.

THe bUFfalo Cow, Too, is Seen in EVery InDian villaGe, A StrangE,
Dusky, roUGH-cOateD beast, with a weird, hALf-HUman, but rather
sInisteR eXPrESSioN in Its dark eyeS, wIth loNG horns tURnED BAck UPon
their necks. they walk scoRNfuLly aloNg To bE Milked, With aN aIR whIch
seems to sAy thEy thought The worLD but a poOR place.

WE took tRaiN to daulATaBaD anD eNTerED tHe NIZam’S territoRy. a pOlice
OffiCER IN his SerVice Was in The train, and waS veRy inTEllIgent
And gaVe us MuCh useFul infOrmatIoN. We now passed thrOugh A more
arid-LooKiNg cOuNtry tHAn befoRe, wHerE cactusEs and loW TreEs GREW
sParsely on burnt yellOw <dw72>S aNd rocky hIlls, ofTEn Of STrange foRm,
The CounTRY showIng sIGnS of a greaT upheaVAl FrOm the seA.

AT DaulaTaBad, A smAll roAD staTion, a tOnga was wAitinG For us, drawn
by twO Poor broken-dowN PoNIEs ANd a rAthEr ragged red-TurbANed dRiveR.
ouR deSTinatIon waS tHE tOWn of Rozah, a drive of soMe Ten milEs and
Mostly uphill, oN a loose, rouGH ROad.

A consPicuOUs OBject in the landScape At DaulatabAD is the anCient
Fortress Upon a steeP HIll risinG abRupTly FroM THe Plain. It was
a faMOUs stRoNghold, bUt wAs conquEreD by The mohAmMedans in tHe
thirteEnTh CeNtUry. there ARe the ruiNs Of tHe AncIent cITy whicH it
onCe prOtEcTEd, aNd withiN ThE CItadEl ArE remAinS oF HindU temPLes,
One tranSformed inTo a MOsquE bY tHe MosleMs. Our road lay tHrOugh
the shaTtEreD gates WHIch still Marked the extent of the citY With
fraGmeNts of The oUter walls, The Whole aRea OVergroWn with Trees AnD
heRBAge, anD CLuSteRs Of native huTS HerE and tHeRe. ThE road to rozah
is an almost conTInuOus ascent, and iN soMe plACEs VerY StEEp, wHiCH
maDE It very hard work fOr the wretcHeD PoNies which dRAggEd Our tongA,
though, Of couRSe,
 extending from their nose s to their  tail s.The yplay  abo ut the
dwellin g s qu ite familiarly, but ar e off  l i ke a sh ot up  a tree an d out 
o fsig ht at  thesma llest a larm. Scal ing  t he trunk ofa  t ree spiral ly, 
they have a lmo st the  a ppe a rance  of  liza rds, a n d they  are cert ai n ly asn imble.T he  buf falo cow, too, is se e n in every Ind ian vi ll a ge , a s tra nge,
dusky ,rough - coatedb ea s t ,  wi t h a weird, ha lf-human, b u t r athersi nis t er exp ressi on inits dark ey es,with long  horns turnedb ack upo n
thei r n eck s. T h ey  w alk  s c orn f ul lya lon g to bemi lk ed, w itha n a ir w hic h
se ems t o say they th oug ht t h e w orldbut a  poo rplace .

Wetooktr ain to Daulatab ad a nd entere d t he  Ni za m’s t e rritor y.A p olice
o fficeri n h is s e rv ice was in the tra in , an d was ve ry int e ll ig e nt
and g av e u s mu c h  usef ul i n fo rmation.  We no w  p as sed thr ou gh a m or e
a rid -look i ng c ountry  than be fore, where cactuses and low trees gr e w 
s p arse lyon burnt ye llow <DW7 2>sa nd  ro c ky hi lls,of t en of strange form,
th ecountr y sho wing signs of  a great u p h e aval fro m th e  s e a.

At Daulata bad,a small ro a d statio n, atonga wa s waiting f or us, d raw n
b y t wop o or  broken-downp o nies  a nd a ra the r ragge d r ed- tur ban ed  driver.Our dest in at io nwas  thet own of R oz ah,  a  dr ive o f  someten m iles  a nd mos tly uph i ll , on a  l oo se,rou gh  road .

A con spicuou s objectint he l an ds cape at  Daulatabad i sthe ancien tfor tressu p on a ste ep hill rising abruptly from th e p lain.  Itwas
a fam ous  stron gho l d, but  was c onque re d b y the M o h am med an s in the
t h i rte enthce ntur y. Ther e are the ruins of the  ancient city  wh ichi t 
o nce pr o tec te d , a n d  within the cit adel are r em a in s of Hindu tem pl es,
one  transf ormed into amosque by  the Mosl em s. O u r  ro ad lay thr ough
the  shattere d  gate s  w hichsti ll mar ke d t he ex tent o f  th e cit y with 
f ragmen ts of  t he outer  walls, the whole areaovergr own w ith  trees an d
h e rba ge, and c lust ers of nat ive  hu ts he rea nd th ere. Th e r o ad to  Roz a h
is an a l mo stc o nt inuous asce n t ,  an d insom e  place s ve ry steep, which
m a de it very har d wo r k  fo r t h e wr et ched ponies wh ich  d r a gged our  t onga,
thoug h, of co ur s e,
 extending_from their_noses to their tails._They play_about_the
dwellings quite_familiarly,_but are off_like a shot_up a tree and_out
of sight at_the_smallest alarm. Scaling the trunk of a tree spirally,
they have almost the appearance of_lizards,_and they_are_certainly_as
nimble.

The buffalo cow, too, is_seen in every Indian village,_a strange,
dusky,_rough-coated beast, with a weird, half-human, but rather
sinister_expression_in its dark_eyes, with long horns turned back upon
their necks. They_walk scornfully along to be milked,_with an air_which
seems_to_say they thought the_world but a poor place.

We took_train to Daulatabad and entered the_Nizam’s territory. A police
officer in his service_was in the train, and was_very intelligent
and gave us much_useful information._We now passed through a_more
arid-looking country than_before, where_cactuses and low_trees grew
sparsely on burnt yellow <DW72>s_and rocky hills,_often of strange form,
the country showing_signs_of a great_upheaval_from_the sea.

At_Daulatabad, a small_road_station, a_tonga_was waiting for us, drawn
by two_poor_broken-down ponies and a rather ragged red-turbaned_driver.
Our destination was the_town_of Rozah, a drive_of some ten miles and
mostly_uphill, on a loose, rough road.

A_conspicuous object_in the_landscape at Daulatabad is the ancient
fortress upon a steep hill rising_abruptly from the plain. It was
a_famous stronghold, but was_conquered by_the_Mohammedans in the
thirteenth_century._There are_the ruins of the ancient city which_it
once protected,_and within the citadel are remains_of Hindu temples,
one transformed_into_a mosque by the Moslems. Our_road lay through
the shattered gates which_still marked the extent of_the_city_with
fragments of the outer walls,_the whole area overgrown with trees_and
herbage, and clusters_of native huts here and there. The_road_to Rozah
is an almost continuous ascent,_and_in some places very steep, which
made_it_very_hard work for the wretched_ponies which dragged our tonga,
though, of_course,