AGRA.--I find India generally speaking is a little vexatious, and think
that perhaps the youth who stays at home may after all score over the
youth who is sent to roam. There is a little feeling all the time which
you felt as a child on seeing all sorts of delights arranged for dinner
guests, and you had toast and eggs in the nursery. Here we have just
time to see what sport there is; jolly social functions, pig-sticking,
picnics, shooting of all kinds, riding, splendid things to paint, and
subjects to study, pleasant people to meet--and have to cut up our time
between trains and guides and sights.
I think if I were to come to India again, I'd spend the cold weather in
one place, get to know the white people and the surrounding districts,
and merely listen to tales of fair Cashmere.
This preamble leads to notes of a somewhat qualified day at Black Buck:
two day's dip into sport against time. I got one buck the first day, and
could have taken more, they were literally in hundreds: this is how the
story unrolls itself.
Got away at 6.30 A.M., before dawn, in a two-horse open carriage, a
shikari on the box, a syce behind, and interpreter on the front seat,
and beside me a regular Indian luncheon basket big enough for an army,
and a great double 450 cordite express that would have done for the
Burmese Gaur.
The roads and mud huts were all the one warm clay-colour, and the light
was becoming violet, with a faint pink in the sky. In the country the
roads and fields were almost milk-colour, and trees with yellow flowers
were on either side. We met white donkeys with their burdens, and white
oxen drawing heavy wooden-wheeled carts all dust coloured, and the only
black in the soft colouring was that of the early crows.
... On the plains to either side there are patches of green crop, and
away to our right the minarets of the burial place of Akbar. Doves,
pigeons, starlings, kites, green parrots sit or flutter overhead as we
pass, all as tame as hens. Gradually the trees throw long shadows, and
old Sol comes up behind us, and grins at our overcoats.
From the eighth milestone I see a doe, and the shikari spots it at the
same instant; and two adjutant cranes, silvery grey with dark heads like
ostriches--about six feet high, and a pair of horn-bills pass
overhead--lots to interest one every mile of the drive. At ten miles out
I spotted three does, and we got out to see if there wasn't a buck
somewhere, and a few minutes after I found him (first, being some inches
taller than the shikari). There was only a chance of getting within
range by a barefaced walk-round and then a crawl behind a knoll of old
clay wall--this we did, and I let off at about fifty yards and went over
the buck's shoulder and couldn't get in a second. Truth to tell I wasn't
quite sure whether I wasn't dreaming, the whole proceeding was so
unexpected and unfamiliar--ten miles out from a town, at eight in the
morning and to have a shot at a deer with no one to say you nay, I could
hardly believe it. And besides, to add to the unfamiliarity of this kind
of deer shooting, there were native cultivators all round, within every
half mile or so, in groups of two or three.
I was very sad. The shikari said nothing, but counted it out at seventy
yards. Looking over the top of the dyke I'd thought it a hundred and
probably took too full a foresight; anyway it was an abominably easy
shot to miss. I wished very much I'd taken a few practice shots with the
cumbersome weapon.
... We wander many a mile and it begins to get warm. We rest in the
shade of a group of mangrove trees on the hard, dry earth, and beside us
waves a patch of green corn. I am very sad indeed--I have missed two
beautiful black buck, or worse, the last I fired at, a lying down shot
(on thorns), after a run and a stalk to about 140 yards, was a trifle
too end-on, and I hit the poor beggar in the jaw I believe, and we
followed it for miles. Then my heart rejoiced, for a native said it had
fallen behind some bushes, but another said he'd seen it going on, very
slowly, and on we went after it; meantime we saw many other buck and
does, but we did our best and failed to pick up the one fired at.
So at ten we rest and I sit like Gautama Buddha under a tree and think
life is all a misery, and my followers bring food and drink and I refuse
almost all, but smoke a little and swear a lot. Overhead a pigeon tries
to coo to the end of its sentence and loses the word at the end every
time, and a green parrot fights with a crow and finally drives it into
another tree, and flies eat my lunch, or breakfast rather, and ants eat
me, and I gnaw my pipe with vexation.
I go over all excuses--new rifle--far too heavy--accustomed to single
barrel--unaccustomed to blaze of light,--Really, at the first shot, the
rising sun on backsight and foresight made them sparkle like diamonds,
and the buck in shadow was a ghost--and being out of condition with
travel--and so on and so on--and say fool at the end.--We get up after
half-an-hour, but my belief in my luck is shaken; we walk into the heat
again and dazzling light and white hard sandy soil and come to bushes
and patches of corn here and there, and natives lifting water for them
from wells.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I've had a grand day's exercise, and feel much more human and fit again.
I've sent a soul into the invisible so my man tells me--shot a buck at
full split--shot it aft a bit. As its gore dyed the hard hot earth and
its exquisite side, I asked my tall Mohammedan guide, when it was dead,
where its soul had gone. "To God," he said shortly--"And where will mine
go?" "To Hell," he replied quite politely but firmly, but he added to
qualify the statement, something about some Mohammedans believing in
reincarnation. I suppose I am damned in his opinion because I am not a
follower of the prophet, not because I have taken life, but damned or
not it wasn't a bad shot; it was the fourth time too, I spotted deer
before my shikari, and pulled him back in time, and so in a way I felt
comforted for bad shooting.
Five does and no buck were visible, but we trusted the buck was hidden
by some of the soft feathery green ferash bushes they were feeding in.
We made a circuit and came close to a group of natives and oxen drawing
water, and for some reason or another, possibly the guide I'd left
behind alarmed the deer, they came galloping past and a buck with a very
good head in the middle; a doe beyond, passing to the front made me hit
him a little far back in lumbar region, instead of behind the shoulder.
It restored my faith in hand and eye a little, and yet the killing
qualified the day's enjoyment. I suppose we will never quite understand
whether we should or should not kill. I suppose killing this buck will
save a little of the natives' corn, and they will have some meat and I
shall have a head to show.
To see these exquisitely graceful deer galloping across the plains is a
sight never to be forgotten: it is the nearest thing to flying. The
bucks with their twisted black horns and blackish brown coats and white
underneath, the does cream-coloured and white, almost invisible against
the soil in the glare of light. All spring into the air with their feet
tucked up at the same spot, with a spurt of dust as if a bullet had
struck the soil beneath their feet. You see poor sheep trying to do the
same thing.
Some natives carry the dead buck. We have about five miles to tramp,
partly over waste ground, partly, along almost unshaded road. After
three miles the deer carriers sit down and "light up" under a tree, so
we follow their example, and send a message on for the carriage.
The men are joined by various native wayfarers who stop and pass the
time of day: they light a little smouldering fire of leaves and twigs to
keep the sociable pipe going. It is a little earthen cup without a stem;
they hold this in the points of their fingers and suck the smoke between
their thumbs so the pipe touches no one's lips, and they have a drink
from a well, poured from a bowl into the palms of their hands. My Hindoo
shikari I find will take a nip with pleasure from my flask in his little
brass bowl, but he would loose caste if he took soda water in the same
way, so he tramps to the well and at great trouble draws a cup. The tall
snub-nosed Mohammedan looks on with scorn at the inconsistency and
touches neither water nor spirit.
We have a longish wait, but there's lots to look at, still new to me.
The girls and boys at the well, and weeding the barley, a vulture and
its ugly mate on household affairs bent, in a tree, and green parrots
and squirrels all busy. It seems to me the squirrels are rooting out the
white ants from their earthy works up the tree trunks above me. Possibly
they are just doing it to put dust in my eyes.
Then we drive homewards, the buck on the splashboard, and pass a
splendid group of peacocks and peahens under two small trees, nearly a
dozen of them within seventy yards, and I handle my big rifle, then my
Browning Colt, and nearly fire, for I'd fain add a peacock to my
pistol-bag, but they look so tremendously domestic that I haven't the
heart, and besides, they are sacred I am told, and possibly it would be
unlucky to shoot them. My men say "shoot," but not encouragingly, and
its my unlucky day; I'd possibly miss, and hit a native beyond. How you
manage to fire a bullet in this country without killing a black buck or
a native is a wonder. Coming near Agra, I passed a group of young
officers in khaki riding out; they and their mounts looked as hard as
nails; they were going pig-sticking, they were to be envied.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
9th March.--The choice lay between an early rise to see the Taj by
moonlight, and an early rise to drive fifteen miles to a place where
black buck do abound. My primeval instinct prevails against the perhaps
better suggestion of my better half. At 5 A.M. the carriage has not yet
come so I have twenty minutes to make a lamplit study and reflections
generally--Have rifle ready, some soda water, tobacco, and a new stock
of hope and faith in my aim.
... Here come my men at last, with stealthy steps so as not to disturb
the sleeping travellers in our caravansary. The shikari has covered his
everyday dress of old Harris tweeds with a white sheet, and might be
anyone, and my long Mohammedan guide and interpreter is also in white
this day. We get all on board very quietly, and rumble away along the
dark dusty road.
We go along at a good rate, with two good horses, and two further on
waiting to change; our landau runs smoothly, though it must date to
before the Mutiny. Its springs are good, and the road we follow, which
Akbar made, is smooth of surface. There is pale moonlight, and the air
is fragrant. The hours before dawn dreamily pass, and we nod, and look
up now and then to see clay walls and trees dusky against the night sky,
and our thoughts go back to the grand old buildings we leave behind us
to the north in Agra. The red stone Fort, and Palace, and Taj, and the
marble courts seem to become again alive, and full of people and colour
and movement, a gallant array, and the fountains bubble, and Akbar plays
living chess with his lovely wives, in colour and jewels, on his marble
courts.
... And we dream on; and we are on the dusty road in the moonlight,
riding along, dusky figures at our side, knee to knee; the dust hangs
on their mail, and dulls the moon's sparkle on the basinets. We are
jogging south on Akbar's road with Akbar's men on a foray, or is it a
great invasion? Then there comes a shout, from in front, and an order
and we awake--and it is only some bullock-carts in the way, all dusty:
and on we go again. And Akbar's soldiers go back to the pale land of
memory, and the light comes up, and I see my Mohammedan guide's strong
face, and the driver, and the little Hindoo shikari in his wrappings on
the box, and the light gets brighter, and, what was vague and
mysterious, dust and moonlight becomes prosaic flat barley-fields, with
white-clad figures picking weeds, and people at the roadside cottages
going about with lights, looking after domestic matters, and men sit
huddled round tiny fires and pass the morning pipe around--they,
apparently feel it chilly.
The very hot morning we spent wandering after elusive herds of black
buck, one of which I missed. A grand black fellow, with horns I could
see through the glass, beat all record, missed at 200 yards, both
barrels, couldn't get nearer, and anyone may have this double 450
cordite express and all its patents for price of old iron. I could have
smitten a bunnie both times at home at the distance--I'm sure this thing
throws inches high.
However, the weariness and the fret of the hot morning ends in a
delicious grove of trees that might be limes, plane and ash, and in the
middle of this bosky knoll there is a pool and a little temple,
picturesque to a degree at fifty yards, hideous close. The light filters
through the branches and falls on the dried mud and leaves.
As my man lays down my bag and useless weapon at the foot of the central
tree, there's a crash in the leaves above, and down and away goes a
glorious peacock. I try to calculate at which end of it I would fire had
I a gun. It's tail is so gorgeous you couldn't fire at it, and its neck
is also too beautifully blue to touch with shot; a minute after another
sails down, and goes off like a running pheasant. Doves come and
flutter and coo above us, and a pariah dog prowls round timidly. It
looks as if it had never wagged its tail in all its sad life, and it
swallows a chunk of my chicken at a gulp, and its tail never moves, poor
beast. The hot winds sough through the branches, and my men murmer away
to each other under a neighbouring tree, possibly about the Sahib, who
is such a poor shot, and, as our language is limited, I can't brag about
swagger shots in other days. One needs a friend to shoot with, alone you
lose half the charm. If you get hipped with a miss you can then growl
out loud to a sympathetic ear, and blow smoke over the day together.
There's only the pariah dog to talk to here, so I eat lunch and smoke
"my lone,"--"here, old Bicky, you can wolf the rest of the lunch,"--you
haven't much appetite the time the bag is empty.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
An hour or two over burning sand, and I spot a doe and a fawn amongst
the grey-green thorn bushes, and away they go, skipping and jumping as
if anyone thought of interfering with their gentle lives!... Two or
three more hours tramp without a shot, and we come to the by-road again,
distinguished from the rest of the dry land by wheel-ruts, and the pad
of bare feet. We have six miles to walk to our carriage--my kingdom for
a pony! but we must trudge along--the guide, shikari, and syce trailing
away behind. They are rather tired, and the writer rather despondent.
A lift of the eye to the left, and a thousand yards off, I see faint
forms of does, then I spot a buck!--question, can we spare the time?
four miles to walk, fifteen to drive, and the night train to catch at
seven. We risk the time, and Fortune smiles, for we have not gone 500
yards off the path, when another lot grows out of the ground to my left,
and again a beautiful buck with splendid horns in their midst--a quick
standing shot got him through the heart, and no pain or death struggle.
Then more trudging--it is hot, and the sand deep, and the thirst the
worst I've had--so dry we were, that we could hardly speak--but no
matter, we have succeeded, and there is a bottle of soda water four
miles ahead; it will be warm though. The dust rises along the horizon
and moves along in gentle whirlwinds, and the few trees there are, are
close cropped of both branches and foliage, to feed the natives' goats
and sheep. It is a famished, parched land, with far too many people.
Driving to Agra, we came across another herd of deer, and got the best
buck almost within a hundred yards of the trunk road.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
7.30 we are in the train again--Pullman car restaurant train--electric
light and cool air, and a sweep of blue moonlit plain and sky passing
the windows, a change from the heat and the baked white plain of the
day. It is the smoothest going carriage we have been in, in India, and
there are waiters in white to bring iced drinks, and an excellent dinner
... And we think of lunch again, in the grove by the Temple, and the
peacocks bustling their grandeur out of the verdure.
If I could invent stories, I'd come and live at Agra, and write about
the Moguls, as Irving wrote the tales of the Alhambra, poor little
Alhambra, it has its own charm, and it is rather a shame to drag it in
beside the buildings of Northern India; how little it seems, its
architecture, and ornament, and its stories, compared with these Mogul
palaces, forts, and gardens, and the love and war associated with them.
I see I have page after page in my journal of attempts to describe the
Taj Mahal and its gardens, and now I find them very difficult to
understand; so I think it would not be wise to try to put them down
here, at the end of rather a rag-tag journal--to try to describe perhaps
the most perfectly beautiful thing in the world. No--it is too
beautiful, to be treated of in the last pages of a journal.
... If I were asked what three scenes in the world pleased me most,
they would all be white.--A ring, miles wide, of square-topped icebergs
in the Antarctic, rose pink in the midnight sun, refracted and reflected
in a calm, lavender sea--the white marble court and white domes of the
Pearl Mosque of Agra, and the blue overhead in stillness of hot mid-day,
and the Taj Mahal in late afternoon, with its marble growing grey, and
the flowers in the gardens closing to sleep.
[Illustration: SHA JEHAN,
Builder of the Taj Mahal.]
Glossary
ACADEMICAL PRIVILEGES, 80
Academy teachers, 177
Aden, 58
Aden, Barren Rocks of, 59
Adyar River, 213
AEolian bells, 243
African coast, 24
Agra, 392
Akbar, 397
Alhambra, 400
Ampthill, Lady, 84
Apollo Bundar, 65
Ananda Temple, 272
Antarctic, 97
Ants, 195
Arctic, 97
Argo, 19
Ariakan Mountains, 268
Arsikere, 160, 187
Art, 46
Atlas Mountains, 24
Auld Reekie, 2
BADMINTON, 133
Balearic Isles, 29
Bangalore, 150, 166
Bank manager, 192
Barbara, 26
Bassein, 251
Belgaum, 118
Benares, 382
Bhamo, 320
Black Buck, 392
Bombay, 63
Bonita, 19
Bugle call, 10
CAFE BASSO, 33
Callum Bhouie, 49
Cargo steamers, 295
Carlos Place, 8
Carmichael, Alex, 71
Carmina Gadelica, 71
Catamaran, 211
Cauvery River, 179
Cavalry, 209
Caves of Elephanta, 86
Channapatna, 186
China, 361
China Street, 322
Chins, 318
Chittagong, 310
Club, 133
Club boat-house, 216
Coburg, 4, 8
Cocoa-nuts, 182
Cockburnspath, 4
Colaba, 100
Columba, 192
Coquelin, 34
Corregio, 23
Crete, 45
Criterion, 7
Crawford market, 103
Crow, 105
Curzon, Lord, 93
Cyrano, 33
DAGON PAGODA, 244
Dak bungalow, 186, 350
Dancing, 133
D'Artagnan, 33
Daudet, 33
Defiles, 318
Delhi, 389
Dharwar, 116, 123, 145
Dogs, 161
Druids, 192
"Duck," 136
Duck-shooting, 134
Dumbie, 173
EDINBURGH, 2
Egypt, 42, 46
E. H. A., 105, 108
Elephants, 319
England, 61
Eurasians, 82, 87, 222
Euroclydon, 21, 45
FANES OF PAGAN, 271
Fergusson, 271
Fire-worship, 70
First impressions, 185
Fishing, 220, 301, 306, 373
Fishing rod, 296
Flotilla Company, 256
Francolin, 373, 375
Fraser, 166
Frenchwoman, 31
Furgusson, Jock, 44
GAELIC, 173
Gairsoppa, 152
Ghat, 113
Granada, 24
Ghosts, 191
Government House, 221
"Green Hills of Tyrol," 107
Gautier, 28
Gulf of Lyons, 21, 29
HALL, FIELDING, 257
Hart, Ernest, 271
Henner, 25
Henzada, 258
History of India, 40
Holdich, 102, 382
Hunter, Sir, W. W., 40
JAMES IV., 209
Jungle fowl, 345
Jura, 49
KALONE, 310
Kandala, 115
Kalychet, 348, 351
Katha, 313, 372
Kedar Camp, 306
Kelly, Talbot, 46
Kintyre, 50
Kirkee, 117
Kulong Cha, 354, 365
Kyankyet, 304
Kyonkmyoung, 298, 376
LACQUER, 272
Lamington, Lord, 84
Levanter, 45
Lipari Islands, 45
"Little England," 103
Log-rafts, 223
London, 4
MACKAY, ABERICH, 129
Madras, 197
Mahseer, 348, 349, 365
Malabar Hill, 77, 97
Marco Polo, 271
Marina, 204
Marseilles, 30
Mediterranean, 24
Mimbu, 266
Minto, Lord, 93
Mistral, 21
Moda, 315
Modellers, 177
Moguls, 400
Momouk, 348, 367
Monkeys, 121
Monticelli, 301
Moors, 25
Mount Street, 8
Mutiny, 103
Muzii colours, 8
Myitkyna, 369
Mysore, 172, 175
NAMPOUNG, 358
Ngapi, 262
Nile, 43, 46
North Sea, 2
ORCHIDS, 336
Orient-Pacific guide-book, 32
Orpheus, 19
Otter, 307
Outer Isles, 70
PADAUNG, 241
Pagan, 271
Painted snipe, 312
Parsees, 70, 97
Parsi, 88
Partridge, 374
Pavilion, 7
Piccadilly Circus, 7
Plague inspection, 199
Poona, 117
Popa Mountain, 268, 271
Port Said, 43
Precedence, 209
Prome, 258
Punitive expedition, 318
Punkah, 42, 79
QUEEN MARY, 33
RECEPTION, 97, 223
Reception at Government House, 67
Red Chupprassies, 195
Red Sea, 48
Regent Street, 5
Rejane, 33
_Renown_, 228
Roseate Tern, 309
Royal Dublin Fusiliers, 222
Russell viper, 129
SABENDIGO, 300
Sailing ship, 12
St Abb's Head, 15
St Thome, 217
St Vincent, 20
Sanskrit, 173
Scents at sea, 17
Scottish nobility, 209
Sea-swallows, 309
Seine net, 204
Serang, 34
Seringapatam, 178
Shan States, 239
Shewgee, 316
Siddons, Mrs, 88
Sinkan, 319
Sirens, 19
Skuas, 16
Snake charmer, 65
Snake-rings, 295
Snipe, 162, 299, 301, 312, 335
Southern Maharatta Railway, 119, 197
Spanish women, 24
Spaniards, 25
Spanish coast, 27
Spanish dancing, 29
Squirrel, 193
Straits of Gibraltar, 24
Stromboli, 45
Suez, 48
Surf rafting, 210.
Surf rafts, 218
Swords, 320
TAGAUNG, 305
Tagus, 21
Taiping River, 356
Taj Hotel, 63
Taj Mahal, 400
Tangiers, 24
Tartarin, 33
Tayoung, 373
Teak, 257
Teak logs, 266
Terms of Union, 180
Theatre, 90
"The Bay," 13
The Canal. 46
The Heroes, 19
"The Mail," 107
Thayet Myo, 264
"The Prince," 64
The Princess, 72
The Rock, 24
The Taj, 391
"The Union," 209
Tilbury, 9
Tip Htila, 241
Tippoo Sultan, 180
Trollies, 178
ULYSSES, 49
VAN BEERS, 30, 264
Viceroy, 93
Vino Riojo, 28
WATER-GATE, 182
Wen Tip, 241
Whaler, 17
Whistler, 53, 100
"Wild Sports of Burmah," 305
Wood-carving, 177
YACHT CLUB, 73, 82, 104
Yale, Elihu, 209
Yenangyat, 265, 272
Yenangyaung, 267
Yule, 271
PRINTED AT THE MERCAT PRESS, EDINBURGH
A PROCESSION
OF THE
KINGS OF SCOTLAND
FROM
Duncan and Macbeth
TO
George II. and Prince Charles Stewart
WITH THE PRINCIPAL HISTORICAL CHARACTERS IN
THEIR PROPER
ARMS AND COSTUMES
FROM SEALS, COINS, AND CONTEMPORARY PORTRAITS
BY
W. G. BURN MURDOCH, F.S.A. SCOT., F.R.S.G.S.
[Illustration]
The above Illustration is a reproduction on a reduced scale of a part of
the Procession, the actual size of which is 140 inches long by 8 inches
deep (exclusive of roller). The design is primed in black and white on
tough Japanese paper, with Names and Dates of the Kings and People
printed in gold underneath. With the roll there is a book (43 pages)
which describes the figures, and forms a brief History of Scotland, and
of the changes of Arms and Costumes. The Scroll rolls up on a gold
crowned roller, and may be had either in soft brown leather binding, or
in Royal Stewart tartan binding.
This design is being utilised in American Schools, so it may be found to
be useful in Scottish Schools and Homes, when our children begin to be
taught the history of their own country.
The sole agents are--
Messrs. DOUGLAS & FOULIS, Castle Street, EDINBURGH.
_Price 21s._
Transcriber's Notes:
Some words are apparently spelled to reflect the Scottish dialect.
Page vi:
[Bands p aying God save the King--Edward the--? 63-74]
Typo: p aying changed to playing.
Page 14:
[there that set his neighbours and my neice and]
Typo: neice changed to niece.
Page 66:
[card! To meet their Royal Hignesses, the Prince and]
Typo: Hignesses changed to Highnesses.
Page 115:
[old trail--the Midlands to Indiar, and Indiar to the Midlands,
with bwidge between.]
Possible typo: 'bwidge'. I believe it was intentional. Unchanged.
Page 121:
[have, between a thoroughbred's and a man's. They were
yellowish beards and black faces and black ends to their]
Typo: Changed were to wore.
Page 145:
[and rather monkeyish in apperance; still, some were not]
Typo: Changed apperance to appearance.
Page 158:
[lean out and see our little narrow guage train crawling]
Typo: Changed guage to gauge.
Page 171:
[pageants, elephant kedar camps, and the right royal enterments]
Typo: Changed enterments to entertainments.
Page 173:
[that these early forms of various races are not mor often]
Typo: Changed mor to more.
Page 199:
[<i>house</i>, or if you exhibit any symptons of plauge or deadly]
Typo: plauge changed to plague.
Typo: symptons changed to symptoms.
Page 201:
[about twenty-five to thirty feet over all, with pratically flat]
Typo: Changed pratically to practically.
Page 202:
[here is considerd to be very damping.]
Possible typo: 'considerd'. Unchanged as the author uses this form
reasonably often.
Page 213:
[bar across its mouth, and to to the right views of the]
Double word: 'to to' changed to single 'to'.
Page 214:
[edge of the receeding wave, then turned lavender laced]
Possible typo: 'receeding'. Unchanged.
Page 216:
[floor, overhead a domed roof with chrystal chandeliers,
and smaller crystal lights round the sides.]
Typo: Chrystal left unchanged as it is used elsewhere.
Page 219:
[three deep to see the Sahib get sand of his feet, extremely]
Typo: Changed of to off.
Page 223:
[some out-of-the-way Highland or Norwegian loch, with on
boat on it, and the trout rising in the middle.]
Typo: Changed on to one.
Page 256:
[jungle comes the sound of Burmese music. A Pwe is]
Changed Pwe to Pwe for consistency.
Page 268:
[them; a _reductio ad absuurdum_, from the point of view of]
Typo: Changed absuurdum to absurdum.
Page 273:
[it on as they came out, modesly and neatly. The women]
Typo: Changed modesly to modestly.
Page 277:
[As we were talking, the Rock pilot came alonside in a]
Typo: Changed alonside to alongside.
Page 279:
[wordly desires[1]. So it was in the earliest Scottish Church;]
Typo: Changed wordly to worldly.
Page 307:
[with elephant and finish up with mouse-deer and button-quail.]
Typo: Changed qauil to quail.
Page 314:
[along the top of the river bank. The arrangemant might]
Typo: Changed arrangemant to arrangement.
Page 327:
[another bullock-cart, with an older Burman whose face
was a delight--so wrinked, and wreathed with smiles. I]
Typo: Changed wrinked to wrinkled.
Page 328:
[on it was a great space of _eongealed blood_ just where]
Typo: Changed eongealed to congealed.
Page 341:
[vividly as a few notes of an air, the rythm of some folk-song--a]
Typo: Changed rythm to rhythm.
Page 348:
[to ninty feet at a guess, and fastened snake rings on with]
Possible typo: Ninty may have been an old spelling for ninety.
Unchanged.
Page 358:
[But where the dead leaf fell, their did it rest."]
Incorrect use of their. Changed to there.
Various:
Some a.m. are small capped, others are not.
Changed all to A.M. to be consistent.
Hyphenation--words occur both ways in the original. Unchanged.
afterglow/after-glow
barefooted/bare-footed
bathrooms/bath-rooms
dreamlike/dream-like
eyelashes/eye-lashes
forefathers/fore-fathers
humdrum/hum-drum
lamplight/lamp-light
lamplit/lamp-lit
midday/mid-day
password/pass-word
pothole/pot-hole
riverside/river-side
sandbank/sand-bank
searchlight/search-light
splashboard/splash-board
sunlit/sun-lit
waterfowl/water-fowl
womenfolk/women-folk
Words spelled 2 ways.
crusies/cruisies
crystal/chrystal
pandal/pandol
paroquet/parroquet
Phoungie/Phunghi/Phoungyi