house, other Thakores sit below, right and left, forming two parallel lines, dwindling into Sardars, palace officers, and others of lower rank as they recede from the gáddi. Behind the Chief stand the servants with the emblems of royalty—the peacock feathers, the fan, the yak tail, and the umbrella (now furled). The confidential servant is still whispering into the ear of his master from time to time. This is durbar. No one speaks, unless to exchange a languid compliment with the Chief. Presently essence of roses and a compound of areca nut and lime are circulated: then a huge silver pipe is brought in, the Chief takes three long pulls, the Thakores on the carpet each take a pull, and the levée breaks up amid profound salaams. After this—dinner, opium, and sleep.
In the cool of the evening our King emerges from the palace, and, riding on a prodigiously fat white horse with pink points, proceeds to the place of carousal. A long train of horsemen follow him, and footmen run before with guns in red flannel covers and silver maces, shouting "Raja Maharaja salaamat," &c.
