Two minor expeditions took place this year:  one against the Thibetans in retaliation for their having invaded the territory of our ally, the Raja of Sikim; the other to punish the Black Mountain tribes for the murder of two British officers.  Both were a success from a military point of view, but in the Black Mountain the determination of the Punjab Government to limit the sphere of action of the troops, and to hurry out of the country, prevented our reaping any political advantage.  We lost a grand opportunity for gaining control over this lawless and troublesome district; no survey was made, no roads opened out, the tribesmen were not made to feel our power, and, consequently, very soon another costly expedition had to be undertaken.

In November, 1888, Lord Dufferin left India amidst a storm of regret from all classes of Her Majesty’s subjects.  He was succeeded by Lord Lansdowne, one of whose earliest communications to me rejoiced my heart, for in it His Excellency inquired whether anything could be done towards improving our relations with the frontier tribes.  This augured well for the abandonment of the traditional, selfish, and, to my mind, short-sighted policy of keeping aloof, and I hoped that endeavours would at last be made to turn the tribesmen into friendly neighbours, to their advantage and ours, instead of being obliged to have recourse to useless blockades or constant and expensive expeditions for their punishment, or else to induce them to refrain from troubling us by the payment of a heavy blackmail.

[Illustration:  THE MARQUESS OF LANSDOWNE, K.G., G.C.M.G., G.M.S.I., G.M.I.E..  VICEROY OF INDIA. From a photograph by Cowell, Simla.]

After a visit to the frontier in the autumn to see how the defences were advancing, I attended a Cavalry Camp of Exercise at Delhi, and an Artillery Practice Camp at Gurgaon, and then went to Meerut to be present at the first meeting of the Bengal Presidency Rifle Association, which was most interesting and successful.  We spent Christmas in camp—­the first Christmas we had all been together for ten years.  Our boy, having left Eton, came out in the early part of the year with a tutor, to be with us for eighteen months before entering Sandhurst.

At the end of December I proceeded to Calcutta rather earlier than usual, to pay my respects to the new Viceroy, and in January of the following year, accompanied by my wife and daughter, I started off on a long tour to inspect the local regiments in Central India and Rajputana, and to ascertain what progress had been made in organizing the Imperial Service Troops in that part of India.

Did space permit, I should like to tell my readers of the beauties of Udaipur and the magnificent hospitality accorded to us there, as well as at Bhopal, Jodhpur, Jaipur, and Ulwar, but, if I once began, it would be difficult to stop, and I feel I have already made an unconscionably heavy demand on the interest of the public in things Indian, and must soon cease my ‘labour of love.’  I must therefore confine myself to those subjects which I am desirous should be better understood in England than they generally are.