[Pen and Pencil Sketches. Being the Journal of a Tour in India. By
Captain Mundy, late Aide-de-Camp to Lord Combermere. 2 vols. 8vo.]
We recommend these two octavo volumes to those of our readers who may be
able to obtain the perusal of them. We think that not only great
amusement may be derived from Captain Mundy’s work, but that it supplies
more information concerning the parts of our dominions in India that he
visited, than may be collected from many ponderous volumes. In his
lively chapters, indeed, amusement and _fun_ (to use a homely word) go
hand in hand with instruction. At the sketch of a human character,
European or Indian, Hindoo or Mussulman, or at the sketch of a scene,
the Captain is equally at home and happy; and in the first class of his
essays he shows so generous and philanthropic a feeling, and in the
second so fine a perception and appreciation of the beauties of nature,
that he captivates both our affection and our taste. What we admire,
too, as much as his talent--and this is perhaps generally the
inseparable companion of intellect of a superior order--is his fine
cheerfulness of spirit. In his daily life he is always disposed to make
the best of things. He is as joyous in his tent, or the equally
comfortless bungalow, as in the palace; palanqueens or the back of an
elephant, Arabians or ragged coolies[4], are all the same to him!
Forward he goes on his journey, only telling you now and then that the
thermometer is nearly at 100°, or that it is raining deluges; and he
looks for, and finds amusement or interest of some kind or other
wherever he moves! At one time we find him hunting the antelope with
leopards, at another bringing down partridges with a “Manton;”--here
seeing a tiger fighting with a rhinoceros, there _himself_ in deadly
conflict with a jungle tiger;--now Mac-adamizing or making roads at
Simla, on the Steppes of the Himalaya mountains, now smoking his hookah
at Calcutta. At his professional duties he is as cheerful as at his
sports, and one cannot help perceiving he is in possession of that
valuable but very attainable secret of making “a pleasure of business.”
The following piece of practical philosophy, or how to make the best of
a bad lodging, is a lesson for all classes:--
“The elevation of Simla above the sea is seven thousand eight hundred
feet; and, during the month of May, I find the thermometer was never
higher than 73°, or lower than 55°, in my _garret_. This apartment,
occupied by me during our stay in the hills, was pervious both to heat
and cold, being, in fact, of that elevated character, which in England
is usually devoted to cheeses, or apples and onions, and forming the
interval between the ceiling of the dining-room and the wooden pent-roof
of the house, which descending in a slope quite to the floor, only
admitted of my standing upright in the centre. Though this canopy of
planks was lined with white-washed canvas, it by no means excluded the
rains so peremptorily as I, not being an amphibious animal, could have
wished; and, during some of the grand storms, the hailstones rattled
with such stunning effect upon the drum-like roof, that the echo sung in
my ears for a week after. This my exalted dormitory was rendered
accessible by a wooden ladder; but, spite of its sundry désagrémens, I
thanked my stars--in whose near neighbourhood I was--for my luck in
getting any shelter at all, without the trouble of building, in the
present crowded state of Simla. I enjoyed a splendid view from my
windows (I beg pardon, window), and the luxury of privacy, except at
night, when the rats sustained an eternal carnival, keeping me in much
the same state as Whittington during his first week in London. I soon
grew tired of bumping my head against the roof in pursuit of these
four-footed Pindarrees[5], and at length became callous to their
nocturnal orgies--and kept a cat[6].”
Even an hair-breadth escape from a midnight robber in no way interrupts
the Captain’s joyous mood:--
“I retired to my tent this evening pretty well knocked up; and during
the night had an adventure, which might have terminated with more loss
to myself, had I slept sounder. My bed, a low canopy, or ‘four feet,’
was in one corner of the tent, close to a door, and I woke several times
from a feverish doze, fancying I heard something moving in my tent; but
could not discover anything, though a cherang, or little Indian lamp,
was burning on the table. I therefore again wooed the balmy power, and
slept. At length, just as ‘the iron tongue of midnight had told twelve’
(for I had looked at my watch five minutes before, and replaced it under
my pillow), I was awakened by a rustling sound under my head; and, half
opening my eyes, without changing my position, I saw a hideous black
face within a foot of mine, and the owner of this index of a cut-throat,
or, at least, cut-purse disposition, kneeling on the carpet, with one
hand under my pillow, and the other grasping--not a dagger!--but the
door-post. Still without moving my body, and with half-closed eyes, I
gently stole my right hand to a boar-spear, which at night was always
placed between my bed and the wall; and as soon as I had clutched it,
made a rapid and violent movement, in order to wrench it from its place,
and try the virtue of its point upon the intruder’s body--but I wrenched
in vain. Fortunately for the robber, my bearer, in placing the weapon in
its usual recess, had forced the point into the top of the tent and the
butt into the ground so firmly, that I failed to extract it at the first
effort; and my visitor, alarmed by the movement, started upon his feet
and rushed through the door. I had time to see that he was perfectly
naked, with the exception of a black blanket twisted round his loins,
and that he had already stowed away in his cloth my candlesticks and my
dressing-case, which latter contained letters, keys, money, and other
valuables. I had also leisure, in that brief space, to judge, from the
size of the arm extended to my bed, that the bearer was more formed for
activity than strength; and, by his grizzled beard, that he was rather
old than young. I, _therefore_, sprung from my bed, and darting through
the purdar of the inner door, seized him by the cummerbund just as he
was passing the outer entrance[7]. The cloth, however, being loose, gave
way, and ere I could confirm my grasp, he snatched it from my hand,
tearing away my thumb-nail down to the quick. In his anxiety to escape,
he stumbled through the outer purdar, and the much-esteemed
dressing-case fell out of his loosened zone. I was so close at his
heels, that he could not recover it; and jumping over the
tent-ropes--which, doubtless, the rogue calculated would trip me up--he
ran towards the road. I was in such a fury, that, forgetting my bare
feet, I gave chase, vociferating lustily, ‘Choor! choor!’ (thief!
thief!) but was soon brought up by some sharp stones, just in time to
see my rascal, by the faint light of the room through the thick foliage
overhead, jump upon a horse standing unheld near the road, and dash down
the path at full speed, his black blanket flying in the wind. What would
I have given for my double-barrelled Joe at that moment! As he and his
steed went clattering along the rocky forest road, I thought of the
black huntsman of the Hartz, or the erl-king! Returning to my tent, I
solaced myself by abusing my servants, who were just rubbing their eyes
and stirring themselves, and by threatening the terrified sepoy sentry
with a court-martial. My trunks at night were always placed outside the
tent, under the sentry’s eye; the robber, therefore, must have made his
entry on the opposite side, and he must have been an adept in his
vocation, as four or five servants were sleeping between the khanauts.
The poor devil did not get much booty for his trouble, having only
secured a razor, a pot of pomatum (which will serve to lubricate his
person for his next exploit[8]), and the candlesticks, which on closer
inspection, will prove to him the truth of the axiom, that ‘all is not
gold that glitters,’ nor even silver.... The next morning, on relating
my adventure, I was told that I was fortunate in having escaped cold
steel; and many more comfortable instances were recited, of the robbed
being stabbed in attempting to secure the robber[9].”
But it is in his account of Indian hunting with which the volumes
abound, and which are truly excellent, that Captain Mundy gives full way
to his buoyant spirit and hilarity: and as the animal pursued is not the
timid hare or the paltry fox, but generally the cruel, destructive, and
formidable tiger, and as there is both adventure and danger, we can
frequently follow him in these hunts with great interest. The following
account of the sagacity of an elephant in a lion-hunt must conclude our
extracts:--
“A lion had charged my friend’s elephant, and he, having wounded the
lion, was in the act of leaning forward in order to fire another shot,
when the front of the howdah (elephant’s castle) suddenly gave way, and
he was precipitated over the head of the elephant into the very jaws of
the furious beast. The lion, though severely hurt, immediately seized
him, and would doubtless shortly have put a fatal termination to the
conflict, had not the elephant, urged by the mahout (the driver, who
sits on the elephant’s neck), stepped forward, though greatly alarmed,
and grasping in her trunk the top of a young tree, bent it down hard
across the loins of the lion, and thus forced the tortured animal to
quit his hold! My friend’s life was thus preserved, but his arm was
broken in two places, and he was severely clawed on the breast and
shoulders. The lion was afterwards slain by the other sportsmen who came
up.”
-----
Footnote 4:
A coolie is a rough Indian pony.
Footnote 5:
An immense association of robbers that a few years ago devastated
India. They have been suppressed by the British.
Footnote 6:
Vol. i. p. 235.
Footnote 7:
The tents in India have double flies; the outer khanaut, or wall,
forming a verandah, of some four feet wide, round the interior
pavilion.
Footnote 8:
Indian thieves oil their naked bodies to render their seizure
difficult.
Footnote 9:
Vol. i. p. 165.
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