the large rivers of India; there the officers and men had an opportunity
of seeing those round boats which we read of in Herodotus, and which we
are told were used in the days of Semiramis. They certainly answered the
purposes for which they were used exceedingly well. They are made of
pieces of split bamboo and bamboo mats, and externally they are covered
with bullock hides sewed together and stretched whilst moist over the
bamboo frame-work, to which they are securely fastened. It is
astonishing what weights these round boats will carry when they are new
and well made. Guns, with their carriages, every kind of cart, besides
men and animals, go safely across deep and broad rivers. This, however,
we did not practically know till the next morning, when, in obedience to
orders, the regiment crossed the Kistnah on these primitive machines,
and without difficulty or accident.
On the day before the crossing was effected, a man was taken out of the
very midst of the camp shortly before eight a.m., and that although
everyone was on the alert and watchful, knowing that they were in near
vicinity to high grass and jungles abounding with tigers, and bearing in
mind, besides, the warnings which they had received on the two preceding
nights. In consequence of this state of watchfulness, scarcely two
minutes elapsed before a strong party of men and officers were in hot
pursuit of the man-eater, aided by several dogs. The beast was, as
heretofore, almost immediately lost to sight, but the dogs showed the
track the tiger had taken, so the men were able to continue the chase.
The sagacity of the dogs in following up was very remarkable, either
instructed by the experience of the two preceding nights or by their
natural intelligence. Though following the scent continually, they were
very careful not to go farther than a few yards in advance of their
masters, seeming to be quite aware that they would be wholly unable to
cope with the enemy they were in pursuit of. This prudence on their part
was noticed by the men and the officers, and was encouraged by them.
Suddenly the dogs halted, barked, and uttered a plaintive cry; the
officers brought their rifles forward, but, not perceiving the tiger,
they carefully walked forward, ready to fire on the instant. At this
moment a Shikari called out that there was something on the road, and
the next instant that it was the man who had been carried off. All then
hastened up to him, and found him weltering in a pool of blood, which,
on interrogating him, they found was not his own; it was almost entirely
that of the tiger. The poor fellow had been so shaken and exhausted
that at first he could scarcely explain himself; however, a small dose
of brandy, the sense of safety, and the encouragement he received from
all round him, soon restored him sufficiently to enable him to explain
how he had effected his marvellous escape. It further appeared, both by
his own statement and that of the surgeon (who was one of those who had
gone in pursuit), that though his side was torn and lacerated by the
teeth of the beast, he had sustained no broken bones, nor, indeed, any
actual injury.
His story was this: at first he was so stunned by the shock of the
tiger's spring that he was hardly conscious of the grip that fastened on
him, or of the spring which carried him out of the camp; his first
feeling of consciousness informed him of his position, and that he was
being rapidly carried along to be devoured at leisure. The prospect was
so unpleasant that he bethought him whether there was any possible mode
of extrication. He had his bayonet with him, having, when seized, just
come off guard. This 'Koodah-ki-fuzzul sey,' as he said, put it into his
head to attempt to get free. The skin and flesh of his left side was in
the tiger's mouth, and his right hand and arm were free. With his hand
he felt for the heart of the tiger, then slowly drawing his bayonet out,
he placed the point of it between the animal's ribs, just opposite the
beat. Having thus prepared matters, he drove in the point with his whole
strength, and with such effect that the tiger, making a spring and a cry
at the same time, let his prey fall, and after limping a step or two
fell down, himself bleeding copiously. He, however, rallied so far as to
be able to crawl on farther, but, added the little hero (a Sepoy, five
feet one inch in height), 'I am certain he cannot go far.'
On hearing this, the pursuit was immediately resumed; the doctor,
greatly to his annoyance, was ordered to remain by the side of the
sepoy, who, as soon as a dhooly could be got, was carried in a sort of
cradle back to the camp. His story was so wonderful, and his escape so
extraordinary, that had not the doctor's orders been peremptory, the
poor little fellow would have had no sleep all the night; such numbers
were anxious to see him, and to hear him repeat the narrative of his
defeat of the 'burrah bhague.' Indeed, it is said that for a week after
he was out of hospital he was still called on occasionally to tell the
story.
The party who went after the wounded beast, by the aid of dogs,
lanterns, flambeaus, and the stain of blood, soon tracked the foe (it
was a female tigress) to a cave near at hand, where they found her
dying, and three splendid little cubs about two months old, which they
lost no time in taking possession of. They were very desirous of making
acquaintance with the proprietor of the cave, but this gentleman, it
would seem, was absent from home. His anxious friends spent an hour in
searching for him, but without success. This probably was fortunate for
them, as it was a very imprudent thing to search for such a customer by
torchlight. The officer commanding, indeed, positively forbade any
repetition of that kind of search, for which he properly thought the
daylight was essential. One of the party, before they left the cave,
gave the tigress a bullet, which put an end to her lingering struggles.
So far is simply Lieutenant B.'s story just as it was told to me; but
the sequel I can positively affirm to be true, from my own knowledge.
When I landed at Madras in 18--, the little hero of the tiger incident
was on guard at the entrance of the Adjutant-General's Office in the
fort, and was really the best show of the place. The little Sepoy who
had come off victorious after being in the jaws of the tiger was the
lion of the fort, and it was customary for every new-comer, to whom he
was presented, to give him a rupee. Thus the little man reaped,
independent of his pension, a revenue which, to him, was very
considerable, and the Government was exempted, or conceived itself to be
exempted, from making any special provision for him. What finally became
of this wonderful small man I do not know. I suppose, in the language of
a great conqueror of another race, _ivit ad plures_. 'The paths of glory
lead but to the grave,' so sings the poet and the moralist; and probably
poor little Ram Sing was no exception to the rule.
But we are digressing, and it is necessary to resume Lieutenant B.'s
account of the _march_. The very word 'march,' while sitting by a
comfortable fire in a nicely-carpeted room, is fearful. The getting up
at one or two a.m.; those dreadful taps (striking the tent pegs), and
the tents falling about one's ears--the whole is appalling--_horresco
referens_--and yet, instead of the gout and other infirmities of age,
how gladly would I face it over again, with the untold privations,
fatigue, and sun superadded, could I but feel again the elasticity, the
glow of health, youthful energy, courage, and confidence in my own
strength and endurance, which I once possessed; but _nunquam retrorsum_
is the banner of existence, and all must submit to it. I return,
therefore, to Lieutenant B.'s account of the march of his regiment to
the cantonment of Secunderabad. The only incident deserving of any
notice during progress through this part of the Deccan was, on more than
one occasion, a difficulty about supplies. Who was to blame no one could
clearly make out, opposing statements being freely made use of; it was
an old disputed responsibility, but there could be no dispute that the
Sepoys suffered. They were reduced to short commons several times. On
one occasion there were absolutely _no_ supplies to be had when the men
arrived on the encamping-ground. The poor fellows had already marched
fourteen miles, and had done it well, reaching the ground before seven
a.m. They had started at half-past two a.m., and were just
congratulating themselves at having got over the march before the sun
was very powerful. Their congratulation was, however, short-lived, as
they soon learned from the quartermaster that they must go on to the
next village, _i.e._, another fourteen miles, to obtain food. The sun
was then quite hot enough in all conscience, and to proceed another
fourteen miles under progressively increasing heat was appalling; but
there was no help for it, the peril must be faced.
The officers at that time wore those horrid little forage-caps covered
on line of march with black oilskin. To ride fourteen miles with such a
covering to the head, under a burning sun, was infinitely worse than
being exposed to the hottest fire. My informant, the doctor, assured me
that if he had not devised a special defence he must have fallen from
his horse from sunstroke. His plan was this: he arranged with the
regimental puckally (that is, the man who attends with a bullock
carrying two mushues, or bullock-hides, filled with water) to be always
close at hand during the march. Nothing but this could have saved him.
He utilized the mushues in this way: before starting on the second march
he had taken out two towels, which the puckally kept constantly soaked
with water. One, well-soaked, was placed under the forage-cap, and as
soon as it got heated it was replaced by the other. All the officers
resorted to the use of wet cloths, but no one carried out the plan so
systematically as the doctor did, and he escaped as well as any of them,
though he had previously suffered from sunstroke.
At last the second march was accomplished, but the men were so tired and
exhausted that they had taken five hours and a half to do it, though
they had performed the first fourteen miles in little more than four
hours. Both men and officers were so dead-beat that, on reaching the
ground, everyone wanted to throw himself down where he stood; but
necessary duties had to be attended to. Luckily some Bamans, Bunganies,
as they were called, had halted at this stage, and readily supplied the
men with the various grains they wanted; and large mango-tops afforded
shelter from the sun, and gradually food and rest were obtained.
By-and-by palanquins, tents, and carts arrived, and the officers got
better shelter and their usual food; and as there was a halt for the
next day, all things gradually fell into working order. On the morning
after the halt, the march was resumed, and in a week the regiment
reached the cantonment of Secunderabad.
To give a full account of the European mode of life in cantonment, even
at the largest station, would scarcely repay any reader. The reveille,
the parade, or sham-fight, the general's concluding remarks to the men
and officers, the march home, the conversation on reaching the barracks,
the disencumbrance of the war-paint, the chatty bath, breakfast, and the
edifying chat respecting dogs, horses, guns, or billiards; he must
indeed be fond of pipe-clay who can be entertained by such things. And
when the coffee and tea and toast, the eggs, the grilled moorgey (a
sudden death, and accordingly as tough as need be), with the curry,
chutnee, etc., have been discussed--as well as Ensign A.'s wonderful
leap, or Captain B.'s splendid shot, or Major C.'s grand display at the
billiard match, have all been served up, and duly commented on; or
arrangements made for a shikar-party--nothing is left but to adjourn to
the billiard-room. All this is the very embodiment of Shakespeare's
twice-told tale, 'stale, flat, and unprofitable.' It is repeated at
every station year after year, and it has besides been given in detail
so well and so often in works of fiction relating to India, that it
would be no less foolish than impertinent to reproduce it here. The same
may be said of the occupations of the fairer half of the creation:
wherever it may be, it is the same thing--the morning exercise on
horseback, the ball, the breakfast, the toilet, the staying at home to
receive visitors, or going out to pay visits, the remarks on the last
party, or the one that is expected; Mrs. W.'s dress, and Miss L.'s good
looks, Miss M.'s engagement, and a thousand other topics of equally
overpowering importance. These, and the all-imperative duty of leaving
cards for everyone, which, if neglected, or even postponed, is an
offence that nothing can expiate, an offence never forgiven, and one
that has probably, in this land of the sun, produced more quarrels, more
heart-burning, and more bad feeling than any other cause that can be
named. Mrs. General D. goes in her carriage to pay Mrs. Ensign Smith a
visit, and never omits to leave her card. Mrs. Captain G. goes in her
palanquin-coach to pay a visit to whom you please, and scrupulously
leaves her card. Mrs. Quartermaster goes in her bullock-coach to visit
the ladies of the regiment, and never fails to leave cards wherever she
stops. The system is indeed so universal, and so well understood, that
even the bullocks themselves have adopted it, as all those who know the
habits of these animals can testify. It is indeed a positive fact that,
whenever the owner of the coach stops at anyone's door, the polite
creatures never fail to leave a S.P.C.--strange, no doubt, but
nevertheless true.
The monotony of cantonment life is not unfrequently varied, I regret to
say, by scandals, and stories circulated to the detriment of this or
that lady. They may be true, or they may be false, but as a rule there
is generally some imprudence or want of due circumspection on the part
of the lady pointed at; and if her fault is of the most venial nature,
her female friends are sure to attribute the worst to her; their own
virtue is so pure and perfect that they cannot bear the remotest
suspicion of the reverse in any of their friends. A curious and
instructive instance of this noble, amiable, and highly moral
disposition occurred at the house of Mrs. O'N. Lady G. entered just as a
lady who had paid her a visit got up to leave. Mrs. O'N. offered Lady G.
the seat her former visitor had vacated, which was refused in this way:
'Was not the person who left the room Mrs. S.?' 'Yes,' said the hostess.
'Then,' returned Lady G., 'pray give me any other chair.' Her wish was
complied with, and she paid her visit without suffering the
contamination she dreaded. When Lady G. departed Mrs. O'N. indulged in a
hearty laugh, which she explained to another visitor by telling her of
Lady G.'s horror at the thought of sitting on a chair that had been
occupied by a questionable character. 'She was herself so chaste, my
dear,' said Mrs. O'N., 'that she couldn't bear the idea of anything of
that kind.'
Scandal runs riot in all small societies, and therefore perhaps the
scandals in Indian cantonments are, to a certain extent, merely _en
regle_. But at the same time it must not be forgotten that after
breakfast, for several hours, both sexes have nothing to do. The ladies
dress and receive visitors as often as not when their husbands are away
on shikar parties, or are amusing themselves at the billiard-table.
These morning visits are sanctioned by custom. But in India they are not
altogether without danger. First, both sexes, when they mingle in
society, have nothing to occupy or amuse them but philandering, _i.e._,
paying compliments or listening to them; and this, though innocent
enough, it may be, in the beginning, is by no means so when often
repeated by the same individuals. 'What a nice little creature Mrs.
So-and-so is; I wonder how Captain B. can occupy himself so much away
from home; he is always away on some shikar party, or at the
billiard-room, or at the racquet-court, or on duty, or attending
court-martial duty. I know if she was my wife I wouldn't leave her to
herself or to others as ---- does.' By-and-by something of this oozes
out, and then there is a laugh, the young gentleman is roasted by his
male friends in a gentle, or even an encouraging way. Something perhaps
like the following will occur:
'What, Jack, are you getting spoony about Mrs. B.? She is an enticing
creature, I must confess; but take care of B.: if he finds out that
you're too sweet with his wife, he'll have you out as sure as fate.'
'Oh! I don't fear B.'s turning rusty; he knows very well I often make
morning calls, and he often invites me to dinner.' 'The more fool he,
especially as he leaves the lady at home so much.' 'I'll tell you what
it is,' says another of these young philanderers, 'if a fellow won't
stay at home to look after his own property, he must expect that other
fellows will try and supply his absence. I know I should be dooced glad
if the chance was mine.' And really you can't blame the petticoat much
if she shows that she likes the attentions of one who gives her to
understand, in every way he can, how he adores her and worships her,
etc.; and though he may be only leading her into what is called a
'fools' paradise,' she doesn't know that until it is too late and she
has disgraced herself, thrown away her good name, and made a serious
scandal; or she is sent home and a divorce is obtained, or the husband
calls out the Lothario and shoots him, or gets shot himself.
I have in my experience known a young gentleman pray heartily that the
injured man would call him out, as then, being a good shot, he should
certainly hit him, and in all probability put him out of the way, which
would make all things smooth for him and Emma. These and unnumbered
other results, more or less serious, arise from the want of occupation
and the system of calling.
It is a saying as old as the hills, that a very prying inquisitive old
gentleman always finds work for idle hands, and certainly Indian
experience does not discredit the truth of it. The kind of morality that
obtains in these matters amongst young men in general is not very
exalted, whatever vocation or profession they follow, and amongst army
men it is proverbially not very strict. I might put it the other way,
but let it pass; they have a great deal more idle time than most other
young men, therefore, according to the postulate above given, they are
more likely to do wrong. Well, an idle young fellow pays a young married
lady a morning visit; she may be very attractive both in manner and in
person; she may possess a pretty face, may possess much intelligence,
and may be an accomplished musician, may ride and dance well; and if she
possesses these various attractions, or some of them, is it natural that
an inconsiderate young fellow, who may also be clever, good-looking,
gentleman-like, and withal a finely-figured man, one who may also be a
vocalist, and a good dancer--is it natural, I say, that these two young
people should spend an hour together without being more or less
prepossessed in each other' s favour? This result is inevitable; the
gentleman soon repeats his visit, he admires the lady more than before,
and does not fail to let her see it; she, on the other hand, begins to
think that Lieutenant ---- is really a very pleasant and agreeable young
man. So much being admitted, the frequent repetition of these morning
calls, and perhaps some invitations to tiffin, or dinner, or to spend
the evening, from the husband, who, all unsuspicious of mischief and
danger, instead of being displeased, is rather proud that other men
admire his wife, lead up to a footing of great intimacy. This, again,
leads to morning rides, to engagements for partnership at dances, and
to every kind of employment or pastime wherein the parties can be
coupled together. This stage in the affair naturally excites the
observation of the bystanders, the lookers-on, and they not only take
note of the intimacy between Mrs. ---- and Mr. So-and-so, but without
more ado set down Mrs. So-and-so not as guilty of imprudence, and the
indulgence of a little vanity, but of an improper and disgraceful
intimacy, which up to this time has perhaps never been thought of, at
all events has not been yielded to. Thus the lady, being at this time
innocent, is rendered indignant, violent, and to some extent reckless,
at being falsely accused, and she, in consequence of this state of
feeling, unwisely and perversely argues thus: 'Oh! if society chooses to
accuse and condemn me for nothing, what does its opinion signify? I am
sure I am not going to give up my friends to please society. I have done
nothing wrong, and I am not going to do anything wrong.' And perhaps she
means what she says, and really thinks she has done nothing wrong, and
perhaps truly means that she does not intend to do wrong; which, being
expressed in plain English, means that she does not intend to commit
adultery; and she may honestly mean to keep her word. Her really doing
so is quite a different thing. After she has overstepped all the
barriers, or almost all, that society, etiquette, and high moral feeling
have established to restrain the intimacy between the opposite sexes, it
is very questionable whether a lady has it in her power to say to
herself: 'Thus far shalt thou go and no further.' From the hour that she
admitted any exceptional degree of intimacy, from that hour she has
placed herself on an inclined plane, and the further she descends on it
the greater is the difficulty for her to draw back. In the very large
majority of such cases, the truth of the French axiom is made painfully
manifest: _C'est le premier pas qui coute_, and in those few cases
where shame does not succeed to such intimacies, the escape is due to
accidental causes. These appear to me to be simply the teachings of
experience; but it would be altogether one-sided not to add that men,
who, from unbounded reliance on the virtue of their wives, permit any
continued attentions (however harmless) from any other man, are in a
great measure responsible for the consequences. Nor should they leave
their wives too much to themselves; if they do, other men will endeavour
to step into their places, and it is a husband's duty to protect his
wife against such endeavours. There are, no doubt, cases which of
necessity involve long and continued absence. Military and naval men are
specially exposed to these risks when on active service. In these cases
the lady's honour, principle, and sense of religion should be her
defence. In cases in which, from duty, office-work, or business, the
husband is absent during the day, the lady should be able, if she is
honest and true, to defend herself.
But these exceptions give no just warrant for a married man to go alone
for weeks or months on tours of pleasure, of sport in distant lands, or
fishing in distant seas, and, for such reasons, to leave a young wife
without protection; nor are unhappy cases wanting to show the bitter
fruits of such neglect.
Details of any intimacies such as those referred to here will scarcely
prove interesting to the majority of readers, and if they were, my pen
would feel too much disgust and sorrow to become the means of
chronicling such unhappy doings. Neither do I think that the ordinary
humdrum details of Indian life in cantonment would repay perusal. I
therefore say nothing of the sensation created in the cantonment of
Secunderabad by the arrival of Mrs. ----'s new dress, made in the latest
mode by the French milliner at Madras, nor of the new carriage that
reached its destination but last week from Simpson's for the Colonel's
wife, nor of the pretty Arab that Captain S. sent down from Bombay for
his wife. All, no doubt, tremendously important and absorbing events to
those concerned, but not quite so much so to the general reader.