equipped and backed by all the resources of a strong government, might surely be trusted to accomplish in a manner not prescribed by the rules of war.
A ceremonial meeting at Firozpur between Lord Auckland and the feeble old Lion of the Punjab served as a grand spectacular prelude to the serious business on which the former had embarked. On the 29th of November, amidst the roar of guns and the clash of martial music, the elephant which bore Ranjít Singh shuffled through the red lines of British infantry towards the great Darbár tent, whence the Governor-General rode forth on his own elephant to welcome his royal guest. The two lines of elephants bearing the chief officers and privileged friends of the two leaders crushed together with a clash — says Miss Eden — 'that was very destructive to the howdahs and hangings;' while Lord Auckland himself transferred what looked like a bundle of crimson cloth from Ranjít's howdah into his own. The two rode on together to the Darbár tent, followed by a many-coloured crowd of Sikh and English officers. There was soon an excited rush of eager spectators into the great tent where Ranjít rested for a few minutes, looking 'exactly like an old mouse with grey whiskers and one eye[1].' He was then led into a small inner tent reserved for private interviews. But the English officers, who 'were just like so many bears,' pushed the sentries aside, and heedless of aides-de-camp, soon filled the inner room also.
- ↑ Up the Country.
