Chapter 6: Among Friends.

"It certainly seems to me," Stanley said, when he heard the

Burman's account of the state of things below, "that it will not be

possible for us to go any further, by water."

"It would be very dangerous," Meinik said. "It is certain that all

the men in this part of the country have been obliged to go with

the army and, even were we both natives, and had no special reason

for avoiding being questioned, we should be liable to be seized and

executed at once, for having disregarded the orders to join the

army. Assuredly we cannot pass down farther in our boat, but must

take to the land. I should say that we had best get spears and

shields, and join some newly-arrived party."

"But you forget that, though my disguise as a native is good enough

to mislead anyone passing us on the road, or in the dusk after

sunset, I should certainly attract attention if travelling with

them, by day."

"I forgot that. I have grown so accustomed to seeing you that I

forget that, to other people, your face would seem strange; as it

at first did to me, in the forest. Indeed you look to me now like

one of ourselves; but were we to join a band, someone would be sure

to ask questions concerning you, ere long. What, then, do you think

we had best do?"

"From what I heard of the country from one of your comrades, who is

a native of this province, it would be impossible for us, after

crossing the river, to make our way down on the opposite side,

since the whole country is swampy and cut up by branches of the

Irrawaddy. On this side there are few obstacles of that kind but,

on the other hand, we shall find the country full of troops going

down towards Rangoon. Your comrade told me that the hills that we

saw to the east, from the forest at Ava, extended right down into

Tenasserim; and were very high, and could not be traversed, for

that no food could be obtained, and that tigers and wild animals

and other beasts abounded. But he said that the smaller hills that

we crossed on the way to your village--which he called the Pegu

Yoma hills--some of whose swells come down to the bank, extend all

the way down to the sea between the Irrawaddy and the Sittang

rivers; and that, from them, streams flowed to one river or the

other. Therefore, if we could gain that range, we should avoid the

swamp country, altogether.

"A few miles back we passed a river coming in from the east and, if

we follow that up as far as there is water, we shall be among the

hills. He said that there were no mountains at all, there; but just

rounded hills, with many villages and much cultivated ground, so

there ought to be no difficulty in making our way along. We shall

be able to gather food in the fields; or can go into villages and

purchase some, for the men will all be away. Besides, we can get

spears and shields, and can say that having been away from home on

a journey--when the men were all ordered to war, we returned too

late to go with the rest of the villagers, and are making our way

down to join them. Many others must be doing the same, and the

story will be likely enough.

"In that way we can get down till we are close to the troops round

Rangoon, and must then take our chance of getting through them."

"That seems better than the other way," Meinik said. "There is such

a river as you speak of, above Sarawa. We can paddle back tonight,

and hide near the town; then I can go there in the morning, and buy

a couple of spears and shields, and get some more rice and other

things. We have plenty of ammunition for our guns; which we may

want, if we meet any wild beasts."

"You don't think that there will be any danger in your going in

there, Meinik? Of course, there is no absolute occasion for us to

have spears and shields, as we have guns."

"We ought to have shields," Meinik replied, "and it were better to

have spears too, and also for us to carry axes--everyone carries an

axe in war time, for we always erect stockades and, though a very

poor man may only have his knife, everyone who can afford it takes

an axe. Most people have such a thing, for it is wanted for cutting

firewood, for clearing the ground, for building houses, and for

many other things; and a Burman must be poor, indeed, who does not

own one."

"By all means, then, get them for us, Meinik; besides, we may find

them useful for ourselves."

They now lay down and slept until evening; and then started up the

river again, keeping close in under shadow of the bank and, two

hours before daylight, concealed the canoe as usual, at a spot two

miles above Sarawa. Meinik started at daybreak, and returned three

hours later with two axes, spears, and shields.

That night they turned into the river running to the east and, for

four nights, paddled up it. The country was now assuming a

different character, and the stream was running in a valley with

rising ground--from a hundred to a hundred and fifty feet high--on

each side, and was narrowing very fast. Towards morning on the

fifth day the river had become a small stream, of but two or three

feet deep; and they decided to leave the boat, as it was evident

that they would be able to go but a short distance further.

"We may as well hide her carefully," Stanley said. "It is certainly

not likely that we shall want her again, but there is never any

saying and, at any rate, there is no great trouble in doing it."

They cooked a meal and then started at once, so as to do a few

hours' walking before the sun became high. They determined to keep

on eastward, until they reached the highest point of the dividing

ridge between the two main rivers, and then to follow it southward.

The country was now well cultivated, and they had some trouble in

avoiding the small villages dotted thickly about, as the course

they were following was not the one they would take if making

straight to join the army. They slept for three or four hours in

the heat of the day; and then, pushing on, found themselves before

sunset on what seemed to them the highest point of the divide. To

the right they could see the flat country stretching towards the

Irrawaddy, to the left the ground was more sharply undulating. Two

miles away was a stream of fair size, which they judged to be the

river that runs down to Pegu, and afterwards joins the Rangoon

river below the town.

Stanley thought that the hill on which they stood was some five

hundred feet above the low country they had left. A great part of

the hills was covered with trees although, at the point where they

had made their way up, the hillside was bare. They went on until

they entered the forest, and there set to work to chop firewood.

Meinik carried a tinderbox, and soon had a fire blazing, and by its

side they piled a great stock of wood.

"I do not know that there are any leopards so far south as this,"

he said, "but at any rate it will be safer to keep a big fire

blazing. I never used to think much about leopards but, ever since

I had that great beast's foot upon my back, I have had a horror of

them."

The next morning they continued their journey south, going along

boldly and passing through several villages.

"You are late for the war," an old man said, as they went through

one of them.

"I know we are," Meinik replied, "but we were away with a caravan

of traders when the order came; and so, instead of going down the

river, we have had to journey on foot. But we shall be there in

time. From what we have heard, there has not been much fighting,

yet."

"No; the white barbarians are all shut up in Rangoon. We have not

attacked them in earnest, but we shall soon do so and, moreover,

they will soon be all starved, for the country has been swept clear

of all cattle for twenty miles round, the villages deserted, and

everything laid waste; and we hear that half their number are laid

up with sickness, and that a great number have died. I wish that I

were younger, that I, too, could help to destroy the insolent foes

who have dared to set foot on our sacred soil."

There was no need for haste, now, and they travelled by easy stages

until, by the smoke rising from different parts of the forest, they

knew that they were approaching the spot where the Burmese forces

lay around Rangoon and, indeed, could see the great pagoda rising

above the surrounding country. They had heard, at the last villages

through which they had passed, that there had been an attack made

upon the pagoda on the 1st of July. On that day the Burmese, in

great force, had moved down in a line parallel to the road between

the pagoda and the town, along which a considerable number of our

troops were encamped. They had advanced until within half a mile of

Rangoon, then had changed front and attacked the British position

near the town. They occupied a hill near our line, and opened fire

from there with jingals and small cannon; but two British guns

firing grape soon silenced their guns, and a Madras regiment

charged the hill and recaptured it.

This entirely upset the plan of the Wongee in command of the

Burmese. The signal for the whole of the army to attack was to have

been given, as soon as their left had broken through the British

line, and had thus cut off all the troops on the road leading to

the pagoda from the town. Seeing that this movement had failed, the

general did not give the signal for the general attack, but ordered

the troops to fall back. He had been recalled in disgrace to Ava;

and a senior officer, who arrived just after the battle, assumed

the command. He at once set to work to make a very strong stockade

at Kummeroot, five miles from the great pagoda; and also fortified

a point on the river above Kemmendine--the stockade that had been

captured by the British--and intended from this point to send down

fire rafts to destroy the British shipping and, at the same time,

made continuous attacks at night on the British lines.

The rains at this time were falling incessantly, and the Burmese

did not think that the British would be able to move out against

them. The position on the river was connected with that at

Kummeroot by strong stockades; and the Burmese general was

convinced that, if an attack was made, it could be easily defeated.

However, eight days after the repulse of the Burmese first attack,

the vessels came up the river, while a land column moved against

Kummeroot.

The position was a strong one. The river was here divided into two

branches and, on the point of land between these, the principal

stockade was erected and was well provided with artillery; while on

the opposite banks of both rivers other stockades with guns were

erected, so that any attack by water would be met by the direct

fire from the great stockade, and a cross fire from those on the

banks.

Four ships came up, and the Burmese guns opened upon them, but the

heavy fire from the men-of-war was not long in silencing them; and

then a number of boats full of troops had landed, and stormed the

stockade, and driven out the Burmese. The land column had been

unable to take guns with them, owing to the impossibility of

dragging them along the rain-sodden paths; and the Burmese chiefs,

confident in the strength of their principal post--which was

defended by three lines of strong stockades, one above another--and

in their immensely superior force, treated with absolute contempt

the advance of the little British column--of which they were

informed, as soon as it started, by their scouts thickly scattered

through the woods.

The general, Soomba Wongee, was just sitting down to dinner when he

was told that the column had nearly reached the first stockade. He

directed his chiefs to proceed to their posts and "drive the

audacious strangers away," and continued his meal until the heavy

and rapid musketry of the assailants convinced him that the matter

was more serious than he had expected. As a rule, the Burmese

generals do not take any active part in their battles; but Soomba

Wongee left his tent and at once went towards the point attacked.

He found his troops already retreating, and that the two outer

stockades had been carried by the enemy. He rallied his men, and

himself led the way to the attack; but the steady and continuous

fire of the British rendered it impossible for him to restore

order, and the Burmese remained crowded together, in hopeless

confusion. However, he managed to gather together a body of

officers and troops and, with them, charged desperately upon the

British soldiers. He, with several other leaders of rank, was

killed; and the Burmese were scattered through the jungle, leaving

eight hundred dead behind them.

The fact that ten stockades, provided with thirty pieces of artillery,

should have been captured in one day by the British, had created a

deep impression among the villagers of the neighbourhood--from whom

the truth could not be concealed--and indeed, all the villages, for

many miles round the scene of action, were crowded with wounded. They

told Meinik that the army was, for a time, profoundly depressed. Many

had deserted, and the fact that stockades they had thought impregnable

were of no avail, whatever, against the enemy, whose regular and

combined action was irresistible, as against their own isolated and

individual method of fighting, had shaken their hitherto profound

belief in their own superiority to any people with whom they might

come in contact.

Since that time no serious fighting had taken place. Occasional

night attacks had been made, and all efforts on the part of the

invaders to obtain food, by foraging parties, had proved

unsuccessful. The boats of the fleet had gone up the Puzendown

river, that joined the Rangoon river some distance below the town,

and had captured a large number of boats that had been lying there,

waiting until Rangoon was taken before going up the river with

their cargoes of rice and salt fish; but they had gained no other

advantage for, although the villages were crowded with fugitives

from the town, these were driven into the jungle by the troops

stationed there for the purpose, as soon as the boats were seen

coming up the river.

In some cases, however, the boats had arrived so suddenly that

there had not been time to do this; and the fugitives had been

taken to Rangoon, where it was said they had been very well

treated.

Great reinforcements had now come down from the upper provinces.

Two of the king's brothers had arrived, to take command of the

army; one had established himself at Donabew, the other at Pegu.

They had brought with them numbers of astrologers, to fix upon a

propitious time for an attack; and the king's Invulnerables,

several thousands strong--a special corps, whom neither shot nor

steel could injure--were with them.

About the 6th of August a strong position that had been taken up,

by a force sent by the prince at Pegu, in the old Portuguese fort

of Syriam had been attacked; with orders that the channel of the

Rangoon river should be blocked, so that none of the strangers

should escape the fate that awaited them. The position was a very

strong one. The trees and brushwood round the fort had been cleared

away; wherever there were gaps in the old wall stockades had been

erected; and great beams suspended from the parapet in order that,

if an attack was made, the ropes could be cut and the beams fall

upon the heads of the assailants.

The British had, however, thrown a bridge across a deep creek,

pushed on against the place, and carried it in a few minutes; the

garrison flying, as soon as the assailants gained the ramparts, to

a pagoda standing on a very steep hill, defended by guns, and

assailable only by a very steep flight of steps. The troops,

however, pressed up these fearlessly; and the garrison, discouraged

and shaken by the reports of the fugitives from the lower fort, had

fled as soon as the British arrived at the top of the steps.

Notwithstanding this and other, as successful, attacks upon their

stockades, the Burmese troops now felt confident that, with their

numerous forces, they would be victorious whenever the astrologers

decided that the favourable moment had arrived.

Meinik had ascertained, from the villagers, the name of the leader

and the locality to which the corps belonged that was posted

nearest to Rangoon. As soon as it was dark, he and Stanley entered

the forest. The smoke had served as a guide, to them, as to the

position of the different corps; and they were able to make their

way between these without being questioned. Presently, however,

they came upon a strong picket.

"Where are you going?" the officer in command asked.

"To join the corps of the Woondock Snodee," Meinik replied. "We

were away at Bhanno when the order came, and the rest had gone down

the river before we got to Mew; so we came on by ourselves, not

wishing to fail in our duty."

"You are just in time," the officer said. "The Woondock is a

quarter of a mile away, on the left."

They moved off in that direction; but soon left the track and,

avoiding the camp, kept away until they reached the edge of the

forest. Then they crept forward through the jungle and brushwood,

pausing to listen from time to time and, three times, changing

their course to avoid parties of the Burmese acting as outposts.

On issuing from the jungle they crawled forward for three or four

hundred yards, so as to be beyond musket shot of the outposts; and

then remained quiet until morning broke. Then they could perceive

red coats moving about, in a small village before which a

breastwork had been thrown up, some four hundred yards away from

them and, getting up to their feet, ran towards it. Several shots

were fired at them, from the jungle behind; and some soldiers at

once appeared at the breastwork. Supposing that the two figures

approaching were Burmese deserters, they did not fire; and Stanley

and his companion were soon among them.

They were soldiers of one of the Bengal regiments; and Stanley, to

their surprise, addressed them in their own language.

"I am an Englishman," he said. "I am one of the prisoners whom they

took, at Ramoo, and have escaped from their hands. Are there any of

your officers in the village?"

"I will take you to them," a native sub-officer said; and Stanley,

in a minute or two, entered a cottage in which four English

officers were just taking their early breakfast, preparatory to

turning out on duty.

"Whom have you got here, jemadar?" one of them asked, in Bengalee.

Stanley answered for himself.

"I am an Englishman, sir, and have just escaped from Ava."

The officer uttered an exclamation of surprise.

"Well, sir," the senior of them said, as he held out his hand to

Stanley, "I congratulate you on having got away, whoever you are;

but I am bound to say that, if it were not for your speech, I

should not have believed you; for I have never seen anyone look

less like an Englishman than you do."

"My name is Stanley Brooke, sir. I am the son of the late Captain

Brooke, of the 15th Native Regiment."

"Then I should know you," one of the other officers said, "for I

knew your father; and I remember seeing your name in the list of

officers killed, at Ramoo, and wondered if it could be the lad I

knew five or six years ago."

"I recollect you, Captain Cooke," Stanley said. "Your regiment was

at Agra, when we were there."

"Right you are; and I am heartily glad that the news of your death

was false," and he shook hands cordially with Stanley.

"And who is your companion?" the major asked. "Is he an Englishman,

also?"

"No, sir; he is a native. He is a most faithful fellow. He has

acted as my guide, all the way down from the point we started from,

twenty miles from Ava. I could never have accomplished it without

his aid for, although I speak Burmese well enough to pass anywhere,

my face is so different in shape from theirs that, if I were looked

at closely in the daylight, I should be suspected at once. I could

never have got here without his aid."

"How was it that he came to help you, sir?" Major Pemberton asked.

"As far as we can see, the Burmese hate us like poison. Even when

they are wounded to death, they will take a last shot at any

soldiers marching past them."

"I happened to save his life from a leopard," Stanley said, "and,

truly, he has shown his gratitude."

"Jemadar," the major said, "take that man away with you. See that

he is well treated. Give him some food, of course. He will

presently go with this officer to the general."

Stanley said a few words in Burmese to Meinik, telling him that he

was to have food, and would afterwards go with him to the general;

and he then, at the invitation of the officers, sat down with them

to breakfast. While eating it, Stanley told them something of his

adventures. After the meal was over, the major said:

"You had better go with Mr. Brooke to the general, Captain Cooke. I

cannot well leave the regiment.

"We can let you have an outfit, Mr. Brooke; though we are, most of

us, reduced pretty well to our last garments. What with the jungle

and what with the damp, we have nearly all arrived at the last

state of dilapidation; but I am sure the general would like to see

you in your present disguise."

"It makes no difference to me, sir," Stanley said, with a laugh. "I

am so accustomed to this black petticoat, now, that I should almost

feel strange in anything else. I am afraid this dye will be a long

time before it wears itself out. It is nearly three weeks since I

was dyed last, and it has faded very little, yet."

"You need not take your arms, anyhow," Captain Cooke said. "You

will attract less attention going without them, for it will only be

supposed that you are one of the natives who have been brought in

by the boats."

Meinik was sitting on the ground, contentedly, outside the cottage,

the jemadar standing beside him.

"Have you had any food, Meinik?" Stanley asked.

The man nodded.

"Good food," he said.

"That is all right. Now, come along with us. You can leave your

weapons here--they won't be wanted."

Meinik rose and followed Stanley and Captain Cooke. There were

houses scattered all along the roadside. These were now all

occupied by officers and troops, and there were so many of them

that it had not been necessary to place any of the men under

canvas--an important consideration, during the almost continuous

rain of the last three months.

"Why, Cooke, I did not know that you talked Burmese," an officer

standing at one of the doors remarked, as the officer came along,

chatting with Stanley.

"You don't know all my accomplishments, Phillipson," the captain

laughed, for the idea that there existed such a thing as a Burmese

peasant who could talk English had not occurred to the other. "I am

taking him to the chief, to show off my powers;" and passed on,

leaving the officer looking after him, with a puzzled expression on

his face.

On their arrival at Sir Archibald Campbell's headquarters, Captain

Cooke sent in his name and, as the general was not at the moment

engaged, he was at once shown in; followed by Stanley, Meinik

remaining without.

"Good morning, sir. I see you have brought in a deserter," the

general said.

"He is not a deserter, sir. He is an escaped prisoner, who has made

his way down from Ava through the enemy's lines.

"This is Mr. Brooke. He was serving as an officer with the native

levy, at Ramoo, and was reported as killed. However, he was

fortunately only stunned and, being the only officer found alive,

was sent by Bandoola as a prisoner to Ava. I may say that he is a

son of the late Captain Brooke, of the 15th Native Infantry."

"You are certainly wonderfully disguised," the general said; "and I

congratulate you heartily on your escape. I should have passed you

by as a native without a second glance though, now that I am told

that you are an Englishman, I can see that you have not the wide

cheekbones and flat face of a Burman. How did you manage to make

your way down?"

"I travelled almost entirely by night, sir; and I had with me a

faithful guide. He is outside. I don't think that I should ever

have got down without him, though I speak Burmese well enough to

pass--especially as the language differs so much, in the different

districts."

"Is he a Burman?"

"Yes, general."

"Have you arranged with him for any particular sum for his

services? If so, it will of course be paid."

"No, sir; he came down simply in gratitude for a service I rendered

him. I do not know whether he intends to go back; but I hope that

he will remain here, with me."

"I have brought Mr. Brooke here, sir," Captain Cooke said, "at the

request of the major; thinking that you might like to ask him some

questions as to the state of things in the interior."

"I should like to have a long talk with Mr. Brooke," the general

said; "but unless he has any certain news of the date they intend

to attack us, I will not detain him now. The first thing will be

for him to get into civilized clothes again.

"By the way, poor young Hitchcock's effects are to be sold this

morning. I should think that they would fit Mr. Brooke very well.

"Let me see. Of course, your pay has been running on, since you

were taken prisoner, Mr. Brooke."

"I am afraid, sir, that there is no pay due," Stanley said. "I

happened to be at Ramoo at the time, looking after some goods of my

uncle, who carries on a considerable trade on the coast; and as I

talk the language, and there were very few who did so, I

volunteered to act as an officer with the native levy. I preferred

to act as a volunteer, in order that I might be free to leave, at

any time, if I received an order from my uncle to join him at

Chittagong.

"I could give an order on him, but I do not know where he is to be

found. I have with me some uncut rubies; though I have no idea what

they are worth, for I have not even looked at them yet; but they

should certainly be good security for 50 pounds."

"We can settle that presently, Mr. Brooke. I will write an order on

the paymaster for 500 rupees; and we can talk the matter over,

afterwards. I am afraid that you will have to pay rather high for

the clothes, for almost everyone here has worn out his kit; and Mr.

Hitchcock only joined us a fortnight before his death, so that his

are in very good condition. Of course, they are all uniform--he was

on my staff--but that will not matter. You could hardly be going

about in civilian clothes, here.

"I shall be very glad if you will dine with me, at six o'clock this

evening. Have a talk with your man before that, and see what he

wants to do. If he is a sharp fellow, he might be very useful to

us."

The general wrote the order on the paymaster, and Captain Cooke

took Stanley across to the office and obtained the cash for it.

Making inquiry, he found that the sale was to come off in a quarter

of an hour.

"I will do the bidding for you, if you like, Brooke," Captain Cooke

said. "I dare say you would rather not be introduced, generally, in

your present rig."

"Much rather not, and I shall be much obliged by your doing it."

"All right. I will make your money go as far as I can. Of course,

the poor fellow brought no full-dress uniform with him, or anything

of that sort."

"You will find me here with my Burman," Stanley said. "We will

stroll round the place for half an hour, and then come back here

again."

There was very little to see in the town. Meinik was astonished,

when they mounted the river bank and had a view of the ships lying

at anchor. For a time he was too surprised to speak, never having

seen anything larger than the clumsy cargo boats which made a

voyage, once a year, up the river.

"It is wonderful!" he said at last. "Who would have thought of such

great ships? If the emperor could but see them, I think that he

would make peace. It is easy to see that you know many things more

than we do. Could one go on board of them?"

"Not as I am, at present, Meinik; but when I get English clothes on

again, and rid myself from some of this stain, I have no doubt I

shall be able to take you on board one of the ships-of-war.

"And now, will you let me know what you are thinking of doing? I

told the general what service you had rendered me, and he asked me

what you were going to do. I told him that, as yet, I did not know

whether you were going to stay here, or go back again."

"Are you going to stay here?"

"I think so--at any rate, for a time. I do not know where the uncle

I have told you about is, at present. At any rate, while this war

is going on he can do very little trade, and can manage very well

without me."

"As long as you stay here, I shall stay," the Burman said. "If I

went back, I should have to fight against your people; and I don't

want to do that. I have no quarrel with them and, from what I see,

I am not so sure as I was that we shall drive you into the sea. You

have beaten us, whenever you have fought; and I would rather stay

with you, than be obliged to fight against you.

"Not many men want to fight. We heard that in the villages, and

that those who have not got wives and children held, as hostages

for them, get away from the army and hide in the woods.

"You will be a great man now and, if you will let me stop, I will

be your servant."

"I will gladly keep you with me, Meinik, if you are willing to

stay; and I am sure that you will be better off, here, than out in

the woods, and a good deal safer. At any rate, stay until after

your people make their next attack. You will see then how useless

it is for them to fight against us. When we can attack them in

their stockades, although they are ten to one against us, and drive

them out after a quarter of an hour's fighting; you may be sure

that in the open ground, without defences, they will have no chance

whatever.

"I hope they will soon get tired of fighting, and that the court

will make peace. We did not want to fight with them--it was they

who attacked us but, now that we have had all the expense of coming

here, we shall go on fighting till the emperor agrees to make

peace; but I don't think that we shall ever go out of Rangoon,

again, and believe that we shall also hold the ports in Tenasserim

that we have captured."

"The emperor will never agree to that," Meinik said, shaking his

head positively.

"Then if he does not, he will see that we shall go up the river to

Ava and, in the end, if he goes on fighting we shall capture the

whole country; and rule over it, just as we have done the greater

part of India."

"I think that would be good for us," the man said philosophically.

"It would not matter much to us to whom we paid our taxes--and you

would not tax us more heavily than we are now--for as we came down

you saw many villages deserted, and the land uncultivated, because

the people could not pay the heavy exactions. It is not the

king--he does not get much of it--but he gives a province, or a

district, or a dozen villages to someone at court; and says, 'you

must pay me so much, and all that you can get out of it, besides,

is for yourself;' so they heap on the taxes, and the people are

always in great poverty and, when they find that they cannot pay

what is demanded and live, then they all go away to some other

place, where the lord is not so harsh."

"I am sure that it would be a good thing for them, Meinik. The

people of India are a great deal better off, under us, than they

were under their native rulers. There is a fixed tax, and no one is

allowed to charge more, or to oppress the people in any way.

"But now we must be going. I said that I would be back at the place

we started from, in half an hour."

On the Irrawaddy: A Story of the First Burmese War · 第 6 / 18 章