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.