December 10th.—The column started from Kusbee Begumgunge at the usual hour; and it was 3 o'clock, p.m. ere the first tents were pitched outside the town, or great Mahomedan city, of Fyzabad. Horses and men were alike tired—the day being excessively hot, and the roads very dusty; length of march twenty miles, within a few hundred yards. A good many young men fell out, and tailed off from the regiments; and native soldiers suffered from sore feet as well as the Europeans. It is rather difficult for the most energetic of men to get through any sort of literary labour under the circumstances. Here is one's life at present:—First bugle at 5.15 a.m.: strike tents, a cup of tea before starting, a groping, stumbling ride out through tent-pegs, camp-followers regardant, camels crouchant, elephants passant, and horses rampant, to the road; very cold and chill ere the, sun rises; then jog, jog, at the rate of two miles an hour or so, with a halt of a few minutes every hour, to allow the baggage and the rear-guard to close up; artfully riding from one flank to another as the breeze, or rather current of air, drives the smothering clouds of dust across the line of march, in order to evade the nuisance as much as possible.