Trips to the Logtak Lake—Beautiful scene on the lake—Tent
pitched on an island in it—The Pucca Senna accompanies
us—Crowds collect to see us—Old women dance—Natives laugh at my
riding habit—Moombi—Steep ascent—Chief of the village threatens
us—Unpleasant quarters—Wet condition and hostile reception—My
husband teaches the Prince English.
From April to the end of October was the rainy season in Manipur, and
from October till the end of March the weather was as perfect as could
be, very cold, and yet bright and sunshiny, with never a drop of rain
to trouble one. All our winter went in camp. We used to go out for a
month at a time, and then return to the Residency for a few days before
starting out again in another direction. We generally managed two trips
to the Logtak Lake. This lake lay to the south of the valley, a day’s
journey by boat, or two days’ if one rode. We preferred the boating. We
used to start off early in the morning and ride about fifteen miles,
where the boat would wait for us, with all our luggage packed in one end
of it, and a well-filled lunch-basket to keep us going by the way. These
boats were long and narrow, and were called ‘dug-outs,’ because each one
was hollowed out of a single tree. We spread the bottom with lots of
straw, and put rugs and pillows on the top, and then lay down on them and
found it very comfortable.
About five in the evening we arrived at the mouth of the river, and had
generally to wait some time there to allow the wind, which always got up
in the evenings, to subside, as the lake was too rough to cross while
it was blowing. Even when we did cross, two hours later, the waves kept
breaking into the boat, and we had to set to work to bale the water out.
I don’t think I shall ever forget the first time I saw the lake. We did
not arrive till late, and the moon was high up in the heavens, shedding
a glorious silvery light on the broad expanse of waters, and making the
islands, each one a small mountain in itself, appear shadowy and far
off. Far above our heads’ flew strings of wild geese going off to feed,
and uttering their strange hoarse cry as they flew. Here and there as
our boat shot past some sheltered nook or tiny islet two or three ducks
would paddle out, scenting danger, and curious water-birds would rise
from the swampy ground and noiselessly disappear in the far distance. But
the stillness on all around us, and the beautiful lake, whose surface
the now dying wind still gently ruffled, had a great effect upon one’s
imagination, and I was quite sorry when we shot through a narrow creek
and came suddenly upon the camp.
Our tents were pitched on one of the largest and most beautiful islands,
under a big tree, and at the end of a long village, which was built
picturesquely on the shore of the lake. The villagers and our servants
came down to help us out of our boats with torches and the inevitable
bugler, who played us up to our tent in grand style. We were very glad to
get in and find an excellent dinner awaiting us, and still more pleased
to get to bed. Every day we used to start out at six in the morning,
before the mist had cleared—I in one boat, and my husband in another—and
creep round the little islands after duck, and we generally returned with
a large bag.
In two days once my husband got eighty-two ducks and thirty geese. He did
great execution with an eight-bore he had, and generally knocked over
half a dozen or so at a time with it. Duck-shooting is very exciting, and
hunting wounded birds a lengthy operation. They let you come quite close
to them, and you think you have got them safely, when they suddenly dive
under your boat and appear again yards off; and by the time you have
turned your boat and gone after them again they are still farther away. I
never liked it when we had caught them and they used to be consigned to
my husband’s boat, as I could not bear to see them killed. Sometimes they
were so tame that we let them alone, as it seemed butchery to shoot them.
One year when we went to the Logtak the Pucca Senna (the Maharajah’s
third brother) asked if he might come too. We were very pleased to have
him, so he arrived, and every day he went out shooting with us, and as
he was a good shot he made a welcome addition to our party. He shot
everything he could see, whether it was game or not, but he shot well. We
sent all the birds we could not eat up by boat to Manipur for the Sepoys
of our escort, who were very grateful for them. We stayed a week the
time the Pucca Senna was with us, and he came on afterwards on a tour
along the southern boundary of the valley to some very curious places,
where they had never seen an English lady before, and where the people
exhibited the greatest curiosity and excitement over my advent. We were
always coming upon crowds collected at different places on the roads, who
had journeyed many miles to see me. They all presented us with a few eggs
or fowls, as the case might be, in the hope that the presentation of them
would delay us, and that they would be able to get a good view of me.
Sometimes, instead of giving us anything, they brought four old women to
dance before us, and we would come upon them suddenly over the brow of
a hill and find them jumping about on the other side like so many old
monkeys for our edification. We were, of course, obliged to stop and look
at their exertions, and present them at the end of the performance with
rupees. They always came round me and touched my clothes and hands, and
seemed to be surprised when I turned up my sleeve and showed them that my
arm was white too, like my hands. My clothes caused much curiosity. It
was the time then of large dress-improvers, and they had seen me walking
out at one village we stopped at in a fashionably-made costume, with at
least three steels in it.
The next day I went out on my pony in a riding habit, followed by the
usual crowds. We stopped for a few minutes, and I saw our interpreter
in fits of laughter over something. I asked my husband what the man was
laughing at, and after a little persuasion the interpreter told us that
the villagers wished to know what I had done with my tail! At first I had
no idea what they meant, but after a little while they explained, and
then I discovered that they had imagined the fulness at the back of my
dress had concealed a tail, and they could not understand why the habit
looked different. We were very much amused, and when we got back to the
camp I showed some of them the steels in my dress. They thought it a very
funny fashion indeed.
We went away the next day, much to their disappointment, to a place a
long way off in the hills, and had a number of queer adventures. The
Manipuris told us that this place, called Moombi, was about eighteen
miles distant, so we started very early. I commenced by riding, but
before we had gone very far the hills became so steep that I got into
my long chair and was carried by Nagas. My husband had to walk, and
so did Prince Pucca Senna, much to his disgust, as he was a very lazy
individual, and never cared to use his legs much. This time there was no
help for it, so he puffed and blew as he came up the hill, and said he
felt very ill indeed. It must have been thirty miles instead of eighteen,
and it was very tiring. I had to hold on to the arms of my chair to keep
myself in it at all, and the road got worse and worse, until at last I
had to take to my hands and knees too, as by this time the rest of the
party were crawling up on all-fours like a string of ants.
We got to the top at length, and were going on up to the village, which
was a few yards ahead, when a message came down from the chief of the
village, sent by one of his slaves, saying that if we came any farther
he would shoot at us. This was rather alarming at the end of a long
and tiring march. The messenger went on to say that they had built a
grass hut for us a little below the place we had halted at, and that no
one would molest us if we stayed there, but we were not to go into the
village. I think if we had had a sufficient armed force with us that my
husband would have gone on, but as we were only travelling with a small
escort of Manipuris, who seemed much more inclined to run down the hill
instead of up it, we agreed to remain in the hut they had built for us,
to which we then proceeded.
[Illustration: TRIBESMEN OF MANIPUR.]
There was no mistake about its being a _grass_ hut. It was built of
green grass, something like pampas grass, with flowery tops which they
had not cut off, but left to wave in a sort of archway over our heads.
The roof was very light and airy, and full of large spaces to allow of
rain or hail entering the abode if the weather were stormy. The floor
was covered with loose, ungainly-looking planks, thrown down anyhow all
over it, and if you trod on the end of one suddenly, it started up at the
other end like a seesaw. Fortunately we always took a small tent with
us to be certain of shelter in case any of the arrangements should fall
through, and we had it on this occasion. We soon unpacked it, and got a
place on the side of a hill cleared, and began putting it up, hurrying
over it as fast as we could, as the clouds were gathering up all round
us, and we knew rain was coming.
Long before we had finished erecting it, however, the storm broke. I
have rarely seen such a storm. The wind blew so strongly that it needed
all our forces to hold on to the tent-ropes to prevent the whole being
blown down the hill on to the top of the unfortunate prince, who, by the
way, was housed below us in a wretched grass shed, a copy of ours, only
very much smaller. The thunder and lightning were dreadful, as the hills
around us re-echoed every peal, and the lightning shone out so vividly
in the darkness which had set in. At length the wind went down somewhat,
and we adjourned to the hut for dinner, where we sat under one umbrella
with our feet on the bath-tub turned upside down, and our plates in our
laps. The rain poured meanwhile through the so called roof, and the
nodding grass-tops dripped on to our heads. We got to bed about two in
the morning, when it cleared up, and the stars came out, as it were, to
mock at us for the general soppiness of ourselves and our belongings. We
did not dare inquire for the well-being of the prince. Streams of water
we knew had rushed down the hillside quite powerful enough to carry his
hut away.
Next morning very early one of his followers came up to say that his
master had not been able to sleep all night, as his house had been swept
away and many of his valuables lost; and that he presented his salaams to
the Sahib and the Memsahib, and hoped that we did not intend remaining in
so horrible a place.
It had been our original intention to stay at Moombi three days, but
our wet condition, coupled with the hostile reception from the chief,
decided us to make a move down the hill. First of all, though, my
husband insisted that the chief should come down and pay his respects
to us, which, to our great surprise, he did after a little persuasion,
bringing his three wives and a number of followers, all of whom were
armed with guns of very ancient design, with him. They wore very few
clothes, and were not pleasant-looking men, and the women were all very
short and dumpy-looking, and, oh! so dirty. They presented us with eggs
and melons, and the wives gave me a curious spear and some baskets of
rice. My husband asked them what they meant by greeting us with such an
alarming message the night before, to which they replied that they had
made a mistake, and did not mean that they would fire on us. We found out
afterwards that they thought we were coming to collect some revenue which
they had owed to Manipur for some time and refused to pay, and that they
were afraid we intended marching into their village and forcing them to
pay.
My husband hauled the chief (who, by the way, called himself a Rajah)
over the coals for it, and told him that he was to come into Manipur,
where the revenue case would be inquired into; but we parted very
peaceably after going up to the village by the chief’s own invitation,
where we inspected the outside of his house. It was fenced all round with
strong stakes, and on the top of each stake was a head, and more than
one of them unmistakably human skulls. Whether the original owners of
them had died natural deaths, or whether they were trophies of war, we
did not inquire. There were some beautiful elephants’ tusks in the chiefs
veranda, and some fine-toned Kuki gongs, one of which he presented to
us. We left with many expressions of affection from the Rajah of Moombi
and his wives, but we were very glad when we found ourselves at the foot
of the hills leading up to his kingdom, and solemnly made a vow never to
return there again. We visited the iron wells on our way home. There are
about seven of them, and it was very interesting watching the men at work.
My husband amused himself in the afternoons by teaching the prince
English. He used to read out of a queer old spelling-book, filled with
words that one would really never use. One sentence was—that is to say,
if one could call it a sentence—‘an elegant puce quilt.’ Now, I don’t
think his highness would ever have used either word, but it amused me
greatly to hear him trying to pronounce ‘quilt’; it developed into
‘kilt,’ and never got any farther. I laughed so much that I had to beat
a hasty retreat. There was one expression the prince did learn, and that
was ‘good-bye’; but it was a little embarrassing to meet him on arrival
and be welcomed by a shake of the hand and a solemn ‘good-bye.’ It rather
damped one’s ardour. He never could understand that it was a farewell
salutation, and not a general greeting.