It was during this march that I first witnessed the effects of extreme thirst on men, however well disciplined. It was, as I have said before, the hottest day I ever felt; not a breath of air, and the sun enough to knock you down. The men were suffering dreadfully, and falling out by sections, when about eleven or twelve o’clock they caught sight of some water carriers with their mussacks full, so that they knew water could not be far off. All discipline was pitched to the devil in an instant, and the men rushed from the ranks for the water more like mad devils than anything else—nothing could stop them; the mounted officers galloped in amongst them, and threatened, but to no purpose; nothing short of cutting them down would have stopped any of them. In the midst of this, General Willshire, at the head of the brigade, hearing a row and looking round, saw the greater part of the 17th (they being in front on this day) scampering across the country like a pack of hounds; not knowing what was the matter, he galloped up to the colonel and demanded an explanation, when, seeing what was the cause, he made the best of it, called a halt, and every one immediately rushed to the wells, the scenes at which were most ridiculous, fighting, pushing, knocking down &c. I saw one man actually lie down and wallow in a filthy ditch full of every description of dirt imaginable. We halted here about two hours, and then marched to our ground, about six or seven miles further on, the men performing this latter part of the march with great cheerfulness. We halted here two days to rest the men, and were joined by the rest of the Bombay force, with the Commander-in-chief.