Life and Travel in Lower Burmah: A Retrospect
CHAPTER VII.
RIVER-LIFE UNDER DIFFICULTIES.
“How many perils do enfold The righteous man to make him daily fall.”
I once had the temerity to volunteer my valuable services for an expedition which was fitting out for the purpose of reducing a rebel stronghold; and the answer to my application informed me in somewhat laconic terms that “due information would be given when they were required.”
This was a trifle rude; but I had long since sacrificed my independence, and had to grin and bear it. Very shortly afterwards, however, they _were_ wanted; and I was ordered to proceed without delay to Pegu, where I was to take charge of the garrison. The summons was accompanied by the pleasing intelligence that the river was infested with gangs of dacoits; and indeed the kindly warnings and exhortations to extreme wariness and energy were tantamount to an assurance that, if I fell into the hands of the enemy, my head would in all probability be sent to Ava as a trophy. Provided, however, that it were permitted to retain the position assigned to it by nature, I was to report myself at Pegu in the shortest possible time.
Early next morning I was sauntering along the muddy banks of the river in quest of a suitable conveyance; nor had I much difficulty in finding what I wanted, for, among their many accomplishments, the Burmese are very fair boat-builders, their craft, if not very ornamental, being at least large and roomy, with plenty of beam, and provided with thatched roofs as a protection against the fierce rays of a tropical sun. I soon concluded arrangements for one provided with sails as well as oars, and manned by a crew of four rowers and a steersman. Just as I had struck a very satisfactory bargain, I was saluted by a Madras native officer in command of four sepoys, who also had to join their regiment quartered at Pegu. They carried muskets and a goodly supply of ammunition; and I therefore thought fit to propose that they should accompany me, convinced that they would help me give a good account of any Burmese war-boats that might venture to molest us.
The offer was eagerly accepted; and I had every reason to be satisfied with my companion, who proved a very intelligent fellow, and was fortunately sufficiently master of the English language to enable me to dispense with that painful medley of distorted English, mongrel Hindustani and original Burmese by which I was in those days compelled to give expression to my thoughts when conversing with Asiatics.
It was customary at the time of which I am writing—and, for all I know to the contrary, may be so still—for the Bengalese to look down upon the Madras soldiers as a vastly inferior set of men, and especially to ridicule their helmets and general attire. Physically inferior they were without a doubt; but there was much in the way of compensation, notably their freedom from the unnatural trammels of caste; they were also more sociable, readily joining their officers in cricket and other games, and far more eager to acquire information.
The Bengal sepoy, on the other hand, was better set up and more imposing-looking, and there his qualifications ended: drill and other duties over, he became a somewhat sensual recluse, with no thought for anything save eating and drinking, and weighed down with sheer grief if he infringed the rigid line laid down by his own sect.
Beyond the ordinary and unvarying routine of everyday life, his mind was a blank; and it was no easy matter to avoid the mere shadow of offence with men so ready to impute their own sinister designs to others. Subterfuge and cunning occupied the place of intelligence; and when the veil was at last thrown aside, they appeared in their true character, repulsive and forbidding. Even then we were slow to believe it; and officers pinned their faith in their integrity, until the men turned round and shot them down without compunction.
The sun was well up, too much so indeed to be exactly pleasant, when we stood by the boat next morning impatient to be off; but our eagerness was to all appearances not shared by the Burmese, who seemed to have lost their heads, their courage oozing away as the time for departure approached, assailed no doubt by visions of decapitation, which would assuredly be their lot if captured in the act of conveying the enemy.
We were twelve, all told: under the thatch, which covered the middle of the boat, sat the native officer and myself, the sepoys and my servant; the steersman squatted on a raised platform astern, and the rowers sat for’ard.
I have mentioned my servant, and must devote a few words to so important a personage. This admirable Bengalee, who _out of his own country_ was bearer, cook, waiter, cleaner and tailor all rolled into one, seldom or never gave me occasion to find fault with him, either during the two years he remained in my service in Burmah, or when he afterwards rejoined me on my return to Bengal.
But perfection is no plant of earthly growth, and the poor fellow had one great drawback, certainly no fault of his own, and that was intense ugliness. So repellent indeed was he, that he absolutely struck terror to the hearts of certain charming young ladies at a large up-country station where there was much dining out. He was of abnormal height, and of unusually dark complexion; from his long, gaunt face shone very prominent, staring eyes; and he had a silent yet determined way of moving about, as if his master were the only person of consequence present, and ought to be attended to first.
I, of course, was quite used to his unprepossessing appearance and singular ways; not so the others, and I was eventually requested to discontinue bringing him as my table attendant.
The tide of public opinion ran so strong against him, that I very reluctantly had to send this excellent factotum away, though I felt thoroughly ashamed of my weakness in yielding to the braying of _vox populi_, dictated as a rule by some ignorant prejudice and not by a proper sense of the fitness of things.
The boat at length got under weigh, the mainsail was hoisted, and we made for the mouth of the river, at which point it divides into two branches, the Irrawaddy proper and the Pegu branch.
Here occurred disaster number one, a sudden and violent gust blowing us high and dry on a sandbank. It was impossible to move the heavy boat with so few hands, so we called to our aid all the patience in our virtuous natures and waited amid howling wind and drenching rain, until the rising tide once more set us afloat.
We had not proceeded far on our way up the river before the sun gave signs of setting, and darkness was upon us. I left to the Burmese the solution of the difficulty that now presented itself, viz. where to lay to for the night, and they soon entered a creek covered in by thick foliage, which indeed, besides almost concealing the entrance, completely shut out the sky. But it contained an enemy not provided for in my despatches: the mosquitoes, evidently enraged at our unwarrantable intrusion, came forth in myriads, filling the air around with their hideous buzzing.
Nature and habit enabled the pachydermatous sepoys and aborigines to treat the onslaught with indifference; but my own irritation became ere long unbearable, and I ordered the boat into midstream, where we anchored for the night midway between two vast forests.
In one other place only, and that the notorious Panglang creek, have I experienced any approach to these in number and ferocity.
Their furious attack even disturbed my rest, provided though I was with curtains; while the sufferings of over a hundred European soldiers, ranged along the lower deck of our cargo boat, were displayed next morning in unequivocal signs. The language used throughout that trying night was more forcible than polite, though considerably more justified than the foul language one constantly hears at home from a certain class of people whom a heredity, as strong as that of drink or gout, has taught to embellish every sentence of their conversation with irrelevant oaths.
On this occasion I believe even the “Contemplative One” would have indulged in expressive language, at the risk of having to undergo a few more transmigrations, extending perhaps over a trifling billion of years.
Besides being free from the attacks of the mosquitoes, of which only a few stragglers continued to harass us, it was far more pleasant away from the trees, which shut out the little breeze there was; and, to my way of thinking at least, much safer, as the Burmese are adepts at stealing noiselessly through their own jungles, and we might have easily been boarded and cut down in cold blood.
As soon as the anchor held, and the boat pointed bow up stream, the all-important process of cooking commenced, and I was soon served with a curried fowl, an omelette, and a bottle of beer. The natives of Eastern lands can cook as no other race knows how; their curries and omelettes are unequalled at any restaurant in Paris, and they will improvise a kitchen of the simplest materials and under the most trying circumstances.
In camp, under the leafy canopy of a mango tree, I have often sat down to a dinner consisting of soup, fish, entrées, joints, game and pastry, all served _secundum artem_.
Things are sadly otherwise at home; if the kitchen range gets temporarily out of order—a very common occurrence—the cook becomes as irritable as a bear with a sore head, and even the simplest substitute for a meal is served to the accompaniment of _parliamentary_ language.
Dinner over, I retired with my pipe to the stern to ruminate. After the excitement of the day came the inevitable reaction, and I certainly felt to all intents and purposes alone in the world.
Hitherto I had belonged to a comfortable mess, enjoying plenty of company and diversion, and surrounded by all the pomp and circumstance of war; now I was on an unexplored river, with unknown dangers at every turn. Amid these novel surroundings my thoughts naturally took a wide range, annihilating distance and dwelling upon the old, familiar faces at home. Anon the roar of a wild beast would recall me to my present position; and in one of the painful silences that followed—the _animals_ in the boat had fed and were now buried in happy oblivion—I felt sure that another boat, much larger than our own, was rapidly approaching. To make assurance doubly sure, I dipped the blade of a paddle under water, and with the handle to my ear, distinctly heard the enemy advancing and already close at hand. As it was now past eleven, they had evidently calculated on finding us all asleep, and only with the utmost expedition did I succeed in arousing the guard in time.
By the time our arms were in readiness they were upon us: and, covering the gentleman at the helm, I informed him politely in his own language that any further advance on the part of his friends would compel me to deprive them of his own valuable services.
An ominous silence on their part convinced me that they were determined to board us, and indeed though my instructions concerning the prompt use of cartridge and bayonet would have made a considerable gap in their boat, the odds would still have been fearfully against us. This trial of strength was, however not to be; the boat steadily fell back, and the rapid current soon carried it out of sight.
We now breathed more freely, though some acquaintance with the native manner of conducting warfare caused me to station sentries fore and aft. For a time, our imagination supplied all manner of strange sounds, and at about one the native officer begged me to lie down and rest, promising that he and his men would be on the _qui vive_, and arouse me if necessary. I was at first reluctant to follow his advice, as the idea of having my throat cut while asleep and waking up a dead man, as the Irishman said, was not a pleasant one; and it was really out of deference to the officer’s feelings that I at length assumed the horizontal, fully armed, and without the least intention of sleeping; for a refusal on my part would have implied unequivocal distrust of him and his men.
In spite of myself, however, I fell into a sound sleep, from which I awoke only when the sun was high in the heavens.
The native officer expressed a hope that the sleep had refreshed me, and then detailed to me all that had transpired since I had lost consciousness. Shortly after the commencement of his watch his attention was attracted by a fire some way up the right bank, round which a number of natives appeared to be dancing.
This was evidently a ruse to put us off the scent; for no sooner had the embers died out, than the hostile boat again approached, but, on being challenged, fell back as before. He had therefore refrained from waking me, and had evidently kept everything on board as quiet as possible, that I might not be disturbed by Burmese exclamations, never notorious for melody. It was thoughtful to a degree; and I did not fail to report all circumstances on arrival.
The enemy had evidently hoped to steal a march on us, finding us napping and consequently achieving their object without risk to their precious selves; strange to say, their plans were frustrated by so trivial a chance as my resolve to indulge in another pipe before turning in. The fire on shore was only an ingenious and favourite native _ruse de guerre_ intended to restore us to a false state of security; in the creek we should undoubtedly have been massacred, so that the mosquitoes, reprobates though they were, unintentionally did us a good turn. After somewhat restricted ablutions, performed under considerable difficulties, and followed by a hearty breakfast, I resumed my seat in the stern of the boat, and, under the friendly cover of a large umbrella, proceeded to inspect the banks past which we slowly glided.
On either side stretched a vast forest of trees, festooned with creepers and thickly populated by various species of monkeys; the females, with their young clinging to them, remained in the background, but the males came out to the ends of the branches that overhung the water, evidently very angry at our approach, to judge from the manner in which they grinned and spat at us. They are timid, nervous creatures wherever met with, and interesting only when wrought up to a high pitch of anger, in which state they are charming and more engaging indeed than any other animal.
I was on one occasion called in to attend one that a friend had made hopelessly drunk. It was a somewhat cruel joke, but not without its ludicrous aspect. I put my patient to bed, where with its head on the pillow he looked painfully human. Next morning I found him awake, lying quite still; and in reply to my inquiry, which I made from sheer force of habit, he raised one hand to his head; and, out of regard for his general resemblance to my own species, I prescribed a brandy and soda, which actually had the desired effect.
Now and again a splash ahead would reveal an alligator finding it in his discretion safer at the bottom—such fear does man inspire among created things, many of which, could they but know their own strength, would soon lower his pride.
Birds possessed of gaudy plumage and discordant voices were very plentiful: there was the kingfisher perched on an overhanging bough with one eye on the water and his head on one side; and the burnished fly-catcher darted to and fro in search of food.
My observations were rudely interrupted by a puff of smoke from the jungle, followed by another and another.
We were in fact being made a target of, which was the more awkward that the river narrowed considerably at this point from the fact of its flowing through a range of low hills.
These efforts, whether made by our friends of the previous night or by an independent party, were unsuccessful, though a kind of bullet did now and then bury itself in the thatch of the boat; we decided that to return their fire would be an imprudent waste of ammunition, as the party doubtless shifted their position after firing each shot.
We therefore steered straight up the centre of the river; and as some safeguard against treachery I held my revolver close to the steersman’s head, and placed two sepoys with loaded muskets over the rowers, with instructions to shoot any one who attempted to jump overboard.
Proceeding in silence, interrupted only by the faint report of firearms from the bank, we soon reached a broader part of the river, where we once more anchored in midstream, and I instituted regular sentry duty, as the enemy were still unflagging in their attentions.
The persevering way in which they hovered about us pointed to some special reason; at one time I fancied “loot” was the object, and that, seeing soldiers on board, they had come to the conclusion that we must be escorting bags of rupees wherewith to pay the troops occupying Pegu. Or perhaps they thought that a single European, proceeding with a guard up country, must be some important personage worth a heavy ransom; even killing such an official might in some way benefit their cause, besides leading to some substantial reward.
In the immediate neighbourhood of Pegu I do not remember a single flag or pagoda, and certainly no trace of a village.
Birds, reptiles, and similar creatures seemed to be in undisputed possession; and as the mail-boats were seldom molested, and commissariat stores usually arrived intact, I suppose the authorities thought any periodical patrolling of the Pegu river quite unnecessary. On my report, however, an armed boat was sent down, but without encountering any marauding party, so the affair was allowed to blow over. Towards the evening of the next day we reached our destination, and were one and all heartily glad of it.
The prospect was nevertheless far from inviting. With the exception of a span of raised road, and a very inadequate apology for a town, the whole country side resembled an endless waste of water, broken only by patches of trees and shrubs.
The road, which was about a mile long, terminated at the foot of a flight of steps that led up to a large pagoda, on the terrace of which, some thirty feet above the surrounding level, the troops were located, and would have to remain during the remaining few months until the monsoon was at an end.
There was, at any rate, no immediate fear that lack of water would be included in the many straits to which we might ere long be put.
Ascending the steps—and they were legion, giving me a far better idea of infinity than any professor of mathematics had ever succeeded in demonstrating—I found myself on a level platform extending all round the pagoda proper, at the edge of which stood the European and native barracks, that accommodated the detachments from various regiments of which the garrison was composed.
There were samples from Bengal and Madras, including some of the 1st Madras Fusiliers, the finest men I ever set eyes on. Cabin’d, cribbed, confined as they were in this limited space, all looked well, contented, even happy, though I was at a loss to imagine how they managed to pass such long days with so few duties to perform, and such slender resources, in the way of books and other amusements, at their command. The secret of their health lay, without doubt, in their being unable to obtain more than the authorized allowance of “grog.”
Some there were too who, a few years later, took an active part in suppressing the Mutiny, being especially conspicuous in the operations that centred around the theatre of the most important engagements of the whole movement, Benares and Lucknow. I need not dwell on their exploits, for they are written in imperishable letters throughout the chronicles of that mighty upheaval. My intercourse with them was marred by one unfortunate and unlooked-for circumstance, over which I prefer to draw a veil, for the person concerned succumbed after performing miracles of valour; and then and ever since I regretted my inability to be near him before it was too late.
After having reported my arrival, and mentioned our adventures _en route_, I was conducted to the abode I was to occupy, nothing more or less than a huge _pon-gyee_ house, large enough to accommodate half a dozen. It was constructed of teak, supported by massive pillars, and substantially roofed; moreover, it was open at the back, where it abutted on the pagoda, and innocent of doors.
The flooring, composed of split bamboo, was rather more than two feet from the ground, and was covered with mats of the same material.
But for this raised flooring I should, when the floodgates of the upper regions opened upon us, most probably have lost all my available furniture, which, though scarcely worth insuring, certainly sufficed for my modest requirements, comprising, as it did, a camp bed, table, and chair; two bullock trunks, a brass washing basin and stand, and a strip of carpet.
My new lodging was not by any means as snug as my old quarters in the Rangoon stockade; nor was my “factotum” slow to perceive the difference, though with that practical common sense that went so far to atone for his afore-mentioned ugliness, he at once set to work to make matters as straight as possible. In the first place he swept the place out, above and below, the vigorous application of a _vis a tergo_, in the shape of a birch, giving sundry frogs and scorpions summary notice to quit their old homes on the ground-floor.
Then, having next dislodged from the interstices of the upper storey a vast accumulation of dust, ants, and spiders, he arranged my furniture as his own judgment approved. Most of all I missed the verandah, to which I had always been accustomed, a place where, in sunshine or rain, one could always obtain some sort of exercise and enjoy the beauties of nature. Here they were all hidden from view, though I could hardly bemoan the want of ventilation, since the wind searched out every nook and cranny of the house, blowing at times so hard as to create no little difficulty in the matter of keeping one’s lamps alight.
A breeze was, however, generally more welcome than not, for the direct rays of the sun, and reflected heat from the pagoda, induced a temperature very trying to Europeans in general, new arrivals in particular. A hot mist, the result of evaporation of the surrounding water, stretched as far as the eye could reach in every direction. The average rainfall during the monsoon was, as far as I remember, some 120 inches; and whenever Jupiter Pluvius checked the flood, the clouds would roll away, the sun shine forth in all his might, and even the crows would pant in comparative silence.
As the sights of the place could be disposed of in a quarter of an hour, consisting of barracks above and water below, and as it was moreover impossible to move a step beyond the terrace, life soon narrowed down to the routine of daily duties, occupying the early morning and evening, and leaving the day to be disposed of with such resources as individuals possessed in themselves. To those destitute of such, life must have been as slow as a twice-told tale; day after day, week after week, month after month, the same ordeal, the same familiar faces, identical surroundings, and nothing to do; everyone glad when the rain fell, equally pleased when the sun shone; anxious to rise, still more so to go to bed. Yet in spite of this almost intolerable “_nuy_”—as I once heard a soldier pronounce it—I never had charge of a healthier garrison. They were, it is true, cut off _in toto_ from all sources of dissipation; but, even allowing for this, I was unable to account for the unusual immunity from illness, the more so that even among the native population it was equally noticeable.
Indeed, a few cases of snake-bites and fever, as well as an occasional accident, yielded all the professional work which fell to my lot; I felt, in fact, almost ashamed to accept my pay, but it was so generously pressed upon me every month by the paymaster that I had not the courage to refuse it for fear of giving offence; and my conscience was, after all, somewhat quieted by the recollection of all I had to endure in the shape of climatic hardship and personal inconvenience from every kind of tormentor, insect and reptile, which in this place converged to a focus. Crows and kites found it a most agreeable _rendezvous_; they swarmed around from “rosy morn to dewy eve,” the former eternally jabbering and quarrelling over the remains of defunct animal life and the _débris_ of many a repast.
Impudent, arrant thieves as they were, not unfrequently advancing boldly inside the barracks and other dwellings, we should have suffered without such admirable scavengers, insatiable, and endowed with singular intelligence, cunning, and general aptitude for the position assigned to them by nature.
Pariah-dogs would also steal into the place by some mysterious path, also useful scavengers, but rewarded, I fear, with more kicks than caresses.
In Burmah, as in India, they are only half domesticated, showing the same aptitude for education as elsewhere. They are as omnivorous as the jackal; nothing comes amiss to them, animal or vegetable, dead or alive. The jackal is, if I remember aright, not met with on the Burmah side of the Arracan hills. It may be the country is distasteful to them from the luxuriance of its vegetation; anyhow, their absence is a blessing to mankind, were it only on account of the manner in which they make night hideous with their weird cries, to say nothing of their predatory proclivities and offensive smell.
Another matter of vital importance to all desirous of enjoying a good night’s rest—upon which more depends in the tropics, where the excessive heat so thoroughly exhausts the whole system, than at home—was, as I soon had occasion to learn, constant attention to the entirety of one’s mosquito-curtains, ever so small a hole being fatal to one’s repose.
These blood-sucking savages were greatly in evidence at Pegu—as where in the East are they not?—and of a fine, vigorous breed, gifted with healthy appetites, and evincing a decided preference for white flesh, wherein they resemble their pelagic prototype, the shark.
Most to be dreaded was the speckled variety, which, besides being more active and persevering, buzzed more loudly, and secreted a more irritating poison; a brace of them under the same canopy were not to be brought to book except after a long and tedious chase, involving a deal of tongue-banging and the employment of expressive adjectives, for which it is to be hoped every allowance will be made here and hereafter.
Whatever purpose the mosquito may have been intended to serve in nature’s economy, other than that of tormentor-in-chief to mankind, has not yet been revealed; but for this post at least no one can deny its especial aptitude.
In spite of a prevalent idea to the contrary, it would indeed be difficult to exaggerate the discomforts of living in the East, even under favourable conditions; but when the adjuncts essential to even comparative comfort are from force of circumstances unobtainable, existence is more easily imagined than described. And those people give a very loose rein to their imagination who are wont to include a carriage and punkah in the category of luxuries: as well might an Anglo-Indian condemn the effeminacy of using fires and warm clothing during a severe winter in England.
Self-denial is a virtue that should be practised wherever occasion offers, but it is far easier to do so at home than abroad. Those that have never visited our Eastern possessions are too fond of decrying the luxuries of the Europeans that reside there; and this readiness to throw stones at their less fortunate brothers and sisters is particularly out of place in a nation so notoriously luxurious and extravagant, that it eats, I really believe, more than any other in Europe, and annually drinks sufficient to float the allied fleets of the world!
In the Pegu garrison, whatever our hereditary national tendencies might be, we could only procure what the gods, or rather the commissariat, sent us; and not the veriest ascetic could have lamented either the abundance, variety, or quality of our fare.
For the four months during which I was cooped up there the daily ration consisted of 1 lb. meat (including bone!), 1 lb. bread (including sand!), some tea, sugar, and salt, and a wineglassful of rum—the whole costing Rs. 15 _per mensem_, or one shilling a day.
The beef was doubtless furnished by buffaloes that had rendered many years’ hard work to their rightful owners; the bread would have been tolerable, had it not been so gritty as to wear away one’s teeth: the Commissariat Sergeant was one day very gratified by my complimenting him on the excellence of his bread, but his countenance fell many degrees when I begged that he would serve me the sandy part of it separately, so that I might add, as they say in the cookery book, “according to taste.”
But there was from this time forth a marked improvement in the bread; and the other articles were not bad, though I had certainly tasted better tea, and had doubtless used sugar that left less residue at the bottom of the cup.
The condition of the surrounding country rendered it next to impossible to tap its resources, and our individual attempts to procure fowls and eggs met with no success whatever. The aforementioned commodities had accordingly to do duty for a considerable period; and it was during the trying time when necessity compelled us to make the best of them, that I especially regretted never having dived into the art and mystery of cooking, which I regard as conducing more than any other to length of years, domestic happiness, and a steady, unruffled stream of good temper and forbearance with everything and everybody. My “factotum” certainly did his best, but that did not include miracles.
Beef alone admitted only of being roast or boiled, and the changes were accordingly rung on these economical methods of cooking. To rum in any shape I was never very partial, although, when good and indulged in judiciously, I believe it to be a most wholesome beverage. Made into punch with various adjuncts, it may commend itself; but the only one procurable here was water, largely impregnated with organic matter. All who neglected to boil and filter it incurred a very troublesome form of ringworm, which broke out all over the body, especially on the thighs and abdomen.
That troublesome worm the “Dracunculus” was also very common, and I should not like to venture on a statement of how many dozens of yards of them I have wound round various substances.
Towards the end of the rains, an appalling case of that singular disease Beri-beri occurred in a Madras Sepoy, though I cannot say whether the water was in this instance to blame.
I swallowed the daily allowance of rum religiously as a corrective to the water, generally reserving it for the post-prandial pipe, a combination that assisted the mind’s eye in viewing matters in general through a roseate lens.
On very damp nights, when the rain was still coming down in its might, I found it salutary to keep a large wood fire burning on an uncovered spot at the other end of my residence; the smoke drove away insects, the heat dried the saturated atmosphere and damp clothes, while the flames brightened the gloomy surroundings.
Over this conflagration I would silently smoke my pipe and husband my meagre allowance of rum and water, and this was frequently the most pleasant hour of the twenty-four, as, keeping well to windward, neither flames nor smoke incommoded me in the least.
Among the many insect pests, whose view of the beauties of the fire differed in all probability from my own, were those extremely disgusting creatures, yclept “Flying Bugs,” which are of a greenish colour, about the size of a lady-bird; and which, on the slightest provocation, emit their horrible effluvia. They come forth of an evening only: the musk rat is bad enough, and to be avoided; the Flying Bug is ten times worse, and to be dreaded!
To keep these visitors at bay, my “factotum” used to hold a large umbrella over me at meals; many of them would nevertheless alight on my tablecloth and would even occasionally invade my plate; nay, I even remember a specimen between my teeth, and shall never forget the fœtid taste or the sickness that resulted.
Not fifty yards from my abode were the barracks of the 1st Madras Fusiliers. One night, as the sentry was pacing up and down, an animal suddenly sprang over the low parapet close to him; it was a tiger, and on his coming to the charge, it disappeared as suddenly as it had come. They had been reported prowling around the cattle, for the rains were nearly over, and dry land was beginning to appear.
The circumstance caused a sensation at the time, and became a nine days’ wonder in the garrison, after which it was forgotten.
Some little time afterwards I awoke in the night—a very unusual proceeding on my part—and beheld two great, fiery eyes glaring at me out of the darkness, and apparently belonging to something within a few feet of my mosquito curtains. In an instant the idea flashed on me that this was _the_ tiger, and terror so prostrated me, that I could only lie still, scarcely daring to breathe, turning hot and cold, and looking in a fascinated helplessness straight into those cruel orbs, while I marvelled even in my agony at their changing colours.
It occurred to me that the mosquito curtains were bothering him; otherwise, why should he keep staring at me thus?
A thousand things flashed through my brain, and the events of my young life marshalled themselves before me in rapid succession. Perhaps my thoughts, varied as they were, did not take many seconds of time, but to me it appeared an eternity: and yet the tiger never moved!
At last the suspense became intolerable; and, having at length resolved to end it one way or the other, I stealthily grasped my sword, and with sudden energy drove it into the curtain and into a soft body, which disappeared with a fearful yell—a pariah-dog! He and his companions had to their advantage discovered the whereabouts of my food, and it was the sound of the lid falling back on the now empty chest that had awakened me; and to this day I never could conjecture why one of the troop preferred watching me in that way and giving me such a fright.
Henceforth I bore the race no very friendly feeling, and lost no opportunity of retaliating.
To keep them clear of my sacred precincts, I employed a native bow of peculiar construction, termed a “Golail” and bullets of well-baked clay; and I soon became a sufficiently accurate shot to convince them of the desirability of giving my quarters a wide berth.
I carefully replaced the lid on the empty provision chest, without telling my “factotum” a word of the night’s events; but on calling for breakfast, fully aware that not a crumb had escaped the burglary, I watched his face narrowly and was glad!
Utter bewilderment, fright, anger and despair were all portrayed there; he managed to brew some tea, and I had to be satisfied with that and a pipe—fortunately my tobacco had been stowed away elsewhere, otherwise I verily believe that they would have eaten that as well, and probably felt none the worse for it!
As the waters receded, native dwellings sprang up around as if by magic, and Burmese came from—goodness knows where! They divined our wants, and, like every other nation on the face of the globe, were not averse to supplying them at a good profit. Hitherto, my expenditure had figured at the modest amount of Rs. 25 a month, 15 for rations and 10 for my servant, while the balance was accumulating. Two pound ten shillings was not excessive for a month’s living and attendance, while quarters were free.
A new arrival brought to the station some beer and other delicacies, and the morning after I had dined with him, I awoke a wiser and a better man, for, truth to tell, the sameness of diet was beginning to tell on all of us: man may not require a variety of stimulants, but the stimulus of variety is at all times essential to his well-being.
We were also able to extend our sphere of exercise; at first along the main and only road to the river; and then, with extreme caution, in other directions.
This was an intense relief after having been cooped up so many months in such limited quarters; indeed we were in some respects worse off than Noah and his family when they left the ark.
But though there was no miraculous intervention in our behalf, we were wonderfully protected from native hostility from without; what would have told fearfully against us was an epidemic of any sort, such as cholera, dysentery or typhoid; and that single case of Beri-beri, so acute and so rapidly fatal, afforded me great anxiety for many days afterwards.
The sufferer was pitiable to behold; every secretion of the body was in abeyance, and there was a total suppression of water and comatose. I was preparing a dry bath of heated air, by means of very hot bricks that were to be placed under a chair on which the patient was to sit, enveloped in blankets. But time was not afforded to try this, the only plan that occurred to me.
When he died, he was unable either to articulate or swallow; the latter process would in any case have been of slight use, since there was not a drug in the whole of the Pharmacopeia that could have saved him.
There was indeed a species of “Mudar,” a plant with succulent leaves, that fringed the wells, and the juice expressed from it had a very beneficial effect upon the aforementioned ringworm: the complaint and its remedy were thus strangely in juxtaposition, one inside the well and the other outside.
Supposing, however, that Beri-beri was induced through the same channel, one could scarcely expect to find its antidote there also; and even if it were there, it would have to be administered at the outset before the disease had sufficiently declared itself to admit of diagnosis.
In cholera, intermittent and yellow fever, together with many other diseases of an epidemic and endemic nature, I have for many years believed that the true remedy will be found in germicides administered, not through the digestive functions, but hypodermically direct into the system, so that its actual contact with the germs shall insure their destruction, at the cost of some suffering, maybe not without risk, yet the only possible remedy. I advocated it in the East in respect of cholera, but in the service one was never free to act, except under the auspices of a host of inspectors, whose chief talent lay in the art of dishing up piles of statistics, sufficiently appalling to confuse any government.
Life was beginning to wear a very different aspect, for we were elated at the approaching prospect of shooting in the jungles that were teeming with large and small game; and moreover the weather would greatly improve in our favour.
Alas! certain detachments of European troops were ordered to the front, and I had to accompany them. Such is military life, especially during a campaign; and there was nothing left but to pack up and obey.
The men and officers were equally jubilant at the idea of proceeding to the headquarters of their regiment, and enjoying the good things that were invariably to be found there.
A new place is moreover always attractive in prospect, whatever its reality may prove; all fields look green in the distance, a happy provision for mankind in general.
Here, at any rate, was a chance of disturbing the mental cobwebs which had accumulated during our enforced isolation, and an opportunity of seeing what might prove a brighter side of life. All was at once transformed to bustle and activity; and the boats inspected and portioned out might be seen a few days later floating down stream with their living freights.
A day or two previous to our departure, an officer, who had just arrived, asked if he might have my quarters. He hailed from the Madras Presidency, and proved a very jolly companion. His bed was placed parallel to my own, though some little space intervened, an arrangement that enabled me the better to observe the habit that had acquired irresistible influence over him—he was an inveterate smoker. He invariably affected Trichinopoly cheroots, things of a gigantic size with a hollow reed down the middle, a specimen of which I remembered having indulged in on the Hooghly, when hard up for tobacco, and I also remembered that the consumption of this delicate weed had made me so giddy that I could hardly reach my cabin.
Now, amongst this officer’s baggage stood a large square package, done up in “ganny,” and looking for all the world like a bale of cotton. He informed me that this held 10,000 _Trichys_, “the number I generally carry about with me, you know!”
He smoked all day long, and even at nights there was an eternal globe of fire glowing through his curtains—he evidently was not destined to be prematurely cremated.