In the
evening the march was resumed; the party crossed the river by a ford at
Pulta Ghat, and following the road on the other bank came at sundown to
the outskirts of the French settlement at Chandernagore. There they
camped for the night. Desmond was for some time tormented by the doleful
yells of packs of jackals roaming abroad in search of food. Their cries
so much resembled those of human beings in dire agony that he shivered on
his mattress; but falling asleep at length, he slept soundly and woke
with the dawn.
He started again soon after sunrise. Just beyond Chandernagore Bulger
pointed out the stripped spars of the Good Intent, lying far up a narrow
creek.
"Wouldn't I just like to cut her out?" said Bulger. "But 'spose we can't
stop for that, sir?"
"Certainly not. And you'd have the French about our ears."
Passing the Dutch settlement at Chinsura, he came into a country of rice
fields, now bare, broken by numerous nullahs worn by the torrents in the
rainy season, but now nearly dry. Here and there the party had to ford a
jhil--an extensive shallow lake formed by the rains. Desmond tried a shot
or two at the flights of teal that floated on these ponds; but they were
so wild that he could never approach within range. Towards evening, after
passing the little village of Amboa, they came to a grove of peepuls
filled with green parrots and monkeys screaming and jabbering as though
engaged in a competition. A few miles farther on they arrived at the
larger village of Khulna, where they tied up for the night.
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