CHAPTER XLVI.

Camp, Kurnaul, Nov. 13, 1839.

We arrived here yesterday morning, and it is horrible to think how by

constantly campaigning about we have become 'Kurnaul's tired denizens.'

This is the third time we have been here; the camp is always pitched in

precisely the same place; the camp followers go and cook at their old

ashes; Chance roots up the bones he buried last year; we disturb the

same ants' nests; in fact, this is our 'third Kurnaul season,' as people

would say of London or Bath.

We had the same display of troops on arriving, except that a bright

yellow General N. has taken his liver complaint home, and a pale

primrose General D., who has been renovating for some years at Bath, has

come out to take his place. We were at home in the evening, and it was

an immense party, but except that pretty Mrs. J. who was at Simla, and

who looked like a star amongst the others, the women were all plain.

I don't wonder that if a tolerable-looking girl comes up the country

that she is persecuted with proposals. There were several gentlemen at

Kurnaul avowedly on the look-out for a wife.

That Mrs. ---- we always called 'the little corpse' is still at Kurnaul.

She came and sat herself down by me, upon which Mr. K., with great

presence of mind, offered me his arm, and asked if I would not like to

walk, and said to G. he was taking me away from that corpse. 'You are

quite right,' G. said; 'it would be very dangerous sitting on the same

sofa; we don't know what she died of.'

G. gives a great _man_ dinner to-day, which is refreshing to his

womenkind, who may dine quietly in their own tents.

Friday, Nov. 15.

There were some races early yesterday morning, to which they expected us

to go; so I got up early and went with G., and luckily they were more

amusing than most Indian races. Captain Z. revels in a halt at a great

station, calls at everybody's house, eats everybody's breakfast, and

asks himself to dinner everywhere; also rides everybody's horses, and

as, when he is well fed and thickly clothed, he weighs about four

pounds, he is a valuable jockey, and he won two races to his great

delight.

The last race was run by fifteen of the grasscutters' ponies, ridden by

their owners. These ponies are always skeletons, and their riders wear

no great quantity of drapery, partly because they have no means of

buying it, and then it is not their custom. They ride without saddles,

and go as fast as they can, with their legs and arms flying in the air,

looking like spiders riding on ants. One pony which was not

particularly lame, was reckoned so very superior, that all the other

riders insisted on his carrying two grasscutters, so the poor animal

cantered in with two men on his back. I was so sleepy at the ball last

night; I had sat two hours by K., knowing I should have to go in to

supper with him, and at last, in a fit of desperation, asked Colonel L.,

one of our camp, to give me his arm. He is a regular misanthrope, and a

professed woman-hater, and never even will call on us, though he has to

come to the house every day to see G., and he looked astounded at my

assurance; however, he bore it very well, and was rather pleasant in a

bitter kind of way. We did not get home till past one. To-day we have a

small dinner, chiefly of people who have come into camp from a distance.

Sunday, Nov. 17.

We left Kurnaul yesterday morning. Little Mrs. J. was so unhappy at our

going, that we asked her to come and pass the day here, and brought her

with us. She went from tent to tent and chattered all day, and visited

her friend Mrs. ----, who is with the camp. I gave her a pink silk gown,

and it was altogether a very happy day for her, evidently. It ended in

her going back to Kurnaul on my elephant with E. N. by her side, and Mr.

J. sitting behind, and she had never been on an elephant before, and

thought it delightful. She is very pretty, and a good little thing,

apparently, but they are very poor, and she is very young and lively,

and if she falls into bad hands, she would soon laugh herself into

foolish scrapes. At present the husband and wife are very fond of each

other, but a girl who marries at fifteen hardly knows what she likes.

Paniput, Tuesday, Nov. 19.

I am so tired of being always at Paniput; are not you tired of hearing

of it? We are constantly dropping in there. There is one European living

here, a Mr. ----, the image of Jenkins, the dancing-master, for which

simple reason we have always liked him. He has no other striking merit,

but there is a halo of 'Prince of Wales's step' and 'the slow movement'

floating round him which is rather interesting.

We went to see his gaol, two miles off, and the first shower of rain of

the season chose to come just as we were half-way there, on the

elephants. A howdah is a sort of open cage without a top, and nobody had

thought of a cloak, so it was a pleasant expedition. Paniput has had

several famous battles fought at, or near it, and there is a grand

tradition of one battle where 200,000 men fought on each side, and four

were left alive. That is something like fighting; but happily it is not

true.

Friday, Nov. 22.

We have had two or three most uneventful marches, and Sergeant H., who

goes on the day before, always sends back the same report, 'Road rough

and very dusty,' or to vary it, 'Road very rough and dusty.' However, we

are always able to ride half of the way, which is a great help.

To-day we came over a wretched road and a bridge with one arch broken

and no parapet, and as Sergeant H. reported, 'Bridge in a worse state,

if possible, than last year; quite unsafe for the carriage.' After we

come in to camp, we generally all sit in front of the tents and drink

tea. The gentlemen come and ask for a cup and talk over the disasters of

the road, and it is rather a gossiping time; particularly when enlivened

by Mr. S., who is always like a sharp contradictory character in a

farce, but before he has had his breakfast he is perfectly rabid. To-day

he began as usual.

'How slowly you must have come.'

'The road was so bad,' I said.

'Yes, so everybody chooses to say. I thought it the best road we have

had, much better than any of C.'s famous smooth roads.'

'Did you come safely over that bridge?'

'What was to hinder me? I cannot think why people find fault with that

bridge, one of the best bridges I ever saw.'

'Except that it has a broken arch and no parapet,' I suggested.

'Well! nobody wants to drive on a parapet. I think parapets are

perfectly useless.'

Then C.'s palanquin went by, and as he was standing with us, Mr. S. took

the opportunity of asking, 'What wretches of children are those, I

wonder?' 'Mine,' said C., 'or you would have had no pleasure in asking.'

It was such nonsense! Little 'Missey C.' is the smallest, prettiest

little fairy I ever saw, and the pet of the whole camp; they are really

beautiful children, and S. knew the palanquin perfectly. I told him at

last he was just what our governess used to call 'a child that had got

out of bed the wrong way,' and recommended his having his breakfast as

soon as possible, and he owned, he thought it advisable himself.

Delhi, Monday, Nov. 25.

I am glad to be at dear Delhi again; it is the only place in the plains

I have ever seen worth looking at, and it looks grander and more 'great

Babylonish' than ever. We arrived on Saturday morning and rode in

through an immense crowd, for besides all the regiments here, people

have come from all parts just to ask for what they can get; appointments

are filled up in November, because all the sick people who have been

knocked up by the hot season get their furloughs for going home.

G. hates Delhi from the very circumstance of all these applicants. We

had an immense party on Saturday evening, and nobody but ourselves knows

who composed it.

There were young ladies from Meerut come for the chance of two balls,

and all the ladies of our camp, and a great many from Kurnaul, and

several young civilians who really had come in from their solitary

stations to look for wives.

F. has caught such a cold she cannot go out. We never can settle whether

we would rather have a slight illness, or go through all the festivities

of a Station.

F. has not tried it before, but she now thinks she prefers the cold,

only she has too much pain in her bones.

The people will not tempt us with many pretty things to buy, or else we

have grown particular.

Tuesday, Nov. 26.

We had a great dinner yesterday, and G. and I went to the Station ball,

which was very well managed. I do not know why one ball should be better

than another; as far as the dinners are concerned, I think they are all

equally tiresome, but balls do differ.

This was a very _dancing_ business, and we did not get away till one. It

went on till three, and I have been obliged to represent to our

_engaged_ aides-de-camp how very wrong it is of them to dance three

times with the same girl--such a waste of time to all parties.

P. is quite altered since he has been engaged, and will talk and joke

and dance in the most _débonnair_ manner. I suggested to him the

propriety of my writing to Miss S. about his dancing three times with

the same young lady, but he says he danced once under Captain L. E.'s

name, and that he got up early to write an account of himself to

'Clarissa' this morning, mentioning that he had no pleasure in society

whatever!

I have just been to ask G. to give F. and me two rings on which we have

fixed our small affections, to which he was quite agreeable; but he had

a lavish idea about buying for us two diamond bracelets, that a man from

Lucknow has brought. I think that would be rather indefensible. However,

they are gone to be valued.

'Up the Country': Letters Written to Her Sister from the Upper Provinces of India · 第 46 / 54 章