Every day, since the siege had begun, the defenders had fired an
occasional shot at the stockade; not with any idea of doing any
damage, but in order that the assailants should know that they were
still in the cavern. That evening, when the hole had got to the
proper depth, Stanley, having prepared his fuse, went up with
twenty cartridges in his pocket, accompanied by Meinik. The hole
was charged and tamped, and the fuse inserted. This took a
considerable time. The fuse had been cut so that an inch of it
projected outside the hole. The other eight cartridges were then
broken up, and the powder moistened; and a train some two feet long
laid, from the fuse towards the entrance of the hole. Then a piece
of rag was wrapped round one end of the ramrod; and this, again,
was tied to a long rod that had, the night before, been cut by one
of the boys, who had slipped out noiselessly from the entrance. The
rag had been moistened, and rubbed with gunpowder.
"Now, Meinik," Stanley said, "everything is ready. This rod is
sixteen feet long, so that, lying down, my feet will be just at the
edge of the hole; and I shall be able to drop down, as soon as I
have lighted the train, and bolt. I shall fix a torch, a foot or so
from the train; then I shall only have to lift the rod to it, light
the rag, set fire to the train, and then slide down and bolt.
"Now, you must go down first."
"No, master," Meinik said firmly; "I will light the train. I do not
think that there is any danger but, whether there is or not, I
shall undertake it. If I am killed, it does not matter; while if
you were killed all would be lost for, if the explosion did not
burst the stone, I am sure that we should never be able to get
through it, without you to direct us. No, master, if you stay, I
stay; and that would only lessen our chances of running down the
steps in time."
Stanley argued, and even ordered, but Meinik was obstinate and,
seeing that the faithful Burman was not to be moved, he reluctantly
left the matter in his hands, and went downstairs. He moved a short
distance along the ledge, and waited. The time seemed an age to
him, so that he gave an exclamation of delight when Meinik suddenly
came into sight, and took his place beside him.
"I have lit the train, master. The powder fizzed up, but did not
seem to burn very fast."
It was, indeed, another two minutes before a deep muffled roar was
heard. There was no further noise, but they heard shouts from the
Burmans, behind the stockades.
"They will be wondering what the sound is," Stanley said, "but they
will not be able to tell from what direction it came; for I expect
they were pretty nearly all sound asleep. Now, let us go up and see
the result."
They made their way up the steps, which were now in entire
darkness. The curtain still hung in its place, some ten feet below
the obstacle. They lit a torch, from the embers in the pan; and
then Stanley climbed up into the passage, and hastily crawled
along.
He gave a cry of satisfaction, as he approached the end. The
explosion had been completely successful--the end of the block lay
on the ground. Whether the whole of it had been blown off, or not,
he could not see; but he felt sure that the greater portion must
have split off. It was evident that it would take a considerable
amount of time, and would require the strength of several men, to
get the block out. They therefore descended, at once, to gladden
the hearts of those below; with the news that the way out was now
available to them, whenever they chose to leave.
Harry manifested no surprise, whatever, at the news.
"I made sure that you would succeed, Stanley. After getting me off,
as you did; and making your own escape, before, it seems to me that
you have got hold of the 'open sesame' of Ali Baba, and have only
to use the cabalistic words to walk in and out, wherever you want
to go."
"I don't feel, by any means, so certain of my own powers as you
seem to be, Harry; and I can assure you I was very doubtful whether
that shot would succeed. I hoped, at any rate, that it would blow a
good bit of the stone out and, in that case, we could have got the
chisels to work again. It was the slanting position of the block
that beat us. However, thank goodness, the work is done now; and
you have only to get a bit stronger, and we will be off."
"I am quite ready to start now, Stanley. I think it is absurd
waiting any longer, for there is never any saying what might take
place. That Burmese general, who seems to be an obstinate beggar,
might take it into his head to place a guard on the top of the
hill; and then all your labour will have been thrown away."
"That is true enough, Harry; and as I really don't think that
travelling now would be likely to do you any serious harm, I will
decide on tomorrow. At any rate, I will take some men up, at once,
and get that stone out."
The task was a difficult one. The block of stone was so nearly the
size of the passage that they could not get a rope round behind it
and, after trying for two hours, in vain, they determined that the
only course was to push it before them. They soon found, however,
that this was impossible; and that a part, at least, of the stone
was remaining in its place. Finally, they succeeded in pushing a
loop in the rope over the top of the block; and then, by main
force, eight of them pulled it out of the hole, and lowered it on
to the top step.
By the time that they had done this, dawn was approaching; and they
therefore returned, at once, to the chambers below.
The men were all much pleased, when Stanley told them that they
would leave that night. Confident as they felt that the Burmese
could not force their way in, a new feeling of nervousness seized
them, now that the way was open, lest some unforeseen circumstances
might occur to prevent their going. The rice that remained was made
up into three or four packages. The meat had long before been
finished.
Stanley had a discussion, with Meinik, as to how Harry had best be
taken through the passage. He could, they agreed, walk along the
ledge, with one before and one behind to steady him; and could then
be carried up the steps, in a blanket, by four men. He must, of
course, be lifted into the passage, and dragged through it to the
end; after that, it would be easy enough. Six men could carry him,
in a blanket, until far enough away for them to chop poles, without
the sound of the axes being heard by the Burmese.
From the time they began their work, every pains had been taken to
deaden sounds. The blanket hung across the passage had acted as a
muffler, to some extent; but a piece of cloth had always been tied
over the hammer heads of the axes, to prevent the sharp clinking
sounds of the blows on the chisels, or stone, being heard.
As soon as it was dark enough for them to pass along the ledge,
Meinik went with Stanley to examine the ground. Fortunately, the
portion of stone that remained above the level, and prevented the
rock from being rolled back, was but small; and they were able to
break it up in half an hour, with the axes. Then, making their way
along without difficulty for another four feet, they found
themselves standing upright in the depression in the centre of the
ruin. Mounting six more steps, they were among the bushes that
covered the site of the temple.
They now carefully cleared away every fragment of stone from the
floor of the passage and, returning, Stanley gave orders for the
start to be made. Two or three shots were fired, from the lower
entrance, to show the enemy that they were there and on the watch;
and then all went up to Harry's room. He had been dressed, for the
first time, and was ready for the start. Two of the strongest of
the Burmans went on first.
"Now, Harry, you are to put your hands on my shoulders. Meinik will
follow close behind you, and will keep his arms round you, in case
you need help. Of course, we shall go along very slowly."
"I don't think that all these precautions are necessary," Harry
said. "I am sure that I can walk that distance, easily enough. Why,
you say the stair is only about forty feet."
"I dare say you could, Harry; but we don't want to run any risks.
Your head is not very strong, at present; and you might turn giddy,
or you might stumble. So, at present, you will have just to do as
you are told.
"Let us start."
Harry did not find it as easy as he had expected, getting out
through the lower opening; and he was by no means sorry to have the
support of Stanley and Meinik, as he proceeded along the ledge.
They moved very carefully, and slowly; and all were greatly
relieved when he sat down, on a blanket laid on the steps.
"Now lie back, Harry. We shall have no difficulty in getting you up
here."
Two Burmans took the upper end of the blanket, Stanley and Meinik
the lower, and they were soon at the top of the steps.
"You are not very heavy now, Harry; but you are a good deal heavier
than you were, when we brought you in below.
"Now, the next is the most difficult part of the work--once we get
you through this passage, it will be plain sailing. You see, you
will have to be dragged. The place is only two feet high, so that
it would be impossible to lift you at all. We have made the floor
as smooth as we can, but I am afraid that there are a good many
projecting corners, that will try you a good deal."
"It cannot be helped, Stanley. Fire away, as soon as you like."
The rest of the party were now all gathered, on the steps below;
and Meinik and Stanley, getting up first into the hole, received
Harry as the others lifted him and, with the aid of two of the
Burmans, laid him on his blanket in the passage.
"Now," Stanley said, to the two men who took the other end of the
blanket, "keep it as tight as you can and, when I say 'lift,' we
will all lift together, and move him forward a few inches. Do not
hurry over it--we have plenty of time before us."
They were packed so closely that they had each but one arm
available. Little by little they moved him along, gaining some six
inches, each time; then all had to move, so as to place themselves
for the next effort. However, in five or six minutes they had him
through, and carried him up into the open air. The rest of the
party at once joined them and, with three of the natives on each
side of the blanket, they were soon beyond the circle of ruins, and
making at a brisk pace through the forest. After going for a
quarter of a mile they stopped, cut some poles for the hammock and,
in a short time, were on their way again; having placed in it one
of the bags of rice, as a pillow for Harry.
They travelled for some hours, and then halted to cook some rice.
All had slept a good deal during the day so that, after resting for
an hour, they proceeded on their way again. They had no fear,
whatever, of pursuit; and the only danger that they could incur was
from meeting with a band, similar to that which had carried Harry
off. When they rigged up the hammock, they had cut wood for
torches, to protect themselves from tigers. These were thrown away,
as soon as daylight broke.
At midday they halted again, for another hour; and then, continuing
their journey, arrived at the village before nightfall. They were
received with great joy, the villagers setting up a shout of
welcome--the friends of the men and boys being especially exuberant
in their joy, for they had become extremely anxious at their long
absence. The two troopers were still there; and these saluted
Stanley, with less than the usual stiff formality of the Mohammedan
soldier.
He himself laughed.
"I don't look much like a British officer, at present," he said, in
their language. "Well, has everything been quiet here?"
"Yes, sahib. A sowar brought us orders, from the general, to remain
here; and to send at once, if we heard any news of you. We sent off
one of the villagers, when the man came back to fetch the others,
and said that you had good hopes of getting Lieutenant Brooke sahib
out of the hands of the Burmese."
"I will write a note," Stanley said. "Get your horse saddled, at
once. Directly we have made Mr. Brooke comfortable, I will give you
the letter."
During the time that Stanley had been absent, the houses had been
re-erected, and the village had assumed its general appearance. A
hut was at once handed over to them, and Harry laid on a bamboo
pallet. He had not slept, most of the way down.
"You see I was quite right, Stanley. I told you that the journey
would be nothing."
"Fortunately, it has turned out so. Meinik has already killed a
chicken, and will make it into broth for you. It will be a change,
for you, after your diet of rice. The cooking was excellent, for
the first three or four days; but it fell off sadly. That was one
of the reasons why I gave way to your wish to start at once. You
have done wonderfully well, but a constant diet of rice is not
quite the thing for building up a sick man.
"Now, I am going to write a few lines to the general to say that
you have got safely down, but will need at least another week
before you are able to sit on a horse. Of course, you can be
carried on; but I think that the air here is a great deal more
healthy, and bracing, than it is at Prome and, the longer you stay
here, the better."
Stanley's note was a short one. It merely said that he had
succeeded in getting his cousin, and the trooper who was carried
off at the same time, from the hands of the Burmese, but that Harry
was still very weak; and that, if he himself could be spared, he
would stay with him at the village for another week or ten days, at
the end of which time he would ride, by easy stages, to Prome.
Three days later, the trooper returned with a note from the
general.
"I congratulate you most heartily on having rescued your cousin,"
he wrote. "By all means, stay where you are until he is quite
strong again. This place is not at all healthy, at present. We
shall not be moving forward for another three weeks."
Stanley remained at the village for another fortnight and, at the
end of that time, Harry had so far recovered that he was quite
capable of making a short day's journey on horseback. Two of the
men who had aided in the rescue had gone to Prome, with an order
from Stanley on the staff paymaster, for the rewards that had been
promised to the villagers and the two Burmese soldiers. They
returned with the money, and the men were all highly delighted at
the result of the expedition.
Stanley retained the services of the two soldiers, as long as he
remained in the village. He had no fear, whatever, of the same band
returning that had, before, visited the village; and he learned
that no others had been heard of in the neighbourhood but, at the
same time, he thought it as well that a man should be on guard,
night and day, at each end of the village. The peasants agreed to
watch at one end, while the two Burmese soldiers and the troopers
took charge of the other end. The bulk of the villagers were
engaged in forming a strong stockade round, it to defend themselves
in case of further attack; and Stanley promised to send them down
twenty muskets, and a supply of ammunition, as soon as he got to
Prome.
There was real regret, on the part of the Burmese, when the time
came for the party to start. It had been something altogether new
to them to have officials among them who paid for everything. These
Englishmen had treated them kindly, and were pleased and contented
with everything. The money that the five men and two boys had
earned had enriched the village, and had enabled them to more than
replace their losses by the recent raid and, if Stanley had
accepted all the presents of fruit, fowls, and eggs they would have
given him, he would have needed a couple of extra horses to convey
them. A strong pony had been purchased for Meinik and, after taking
a hearty leave of the villagers, the party rode off.
"I wish we had such a good cook as your man is, Stanley," Harry
said, as they journeyed along at a walk. "I never tasted better
soup than he serves up. I must really get him to teach our mess
cook how to make it."
"Do you know what it is, Harry?"
"I have not the least idea; it might be anything. I think that it
tasted, to me, more like stewed eels than anything else."
"You are not very far out. It is made of the creatures you turned
up your nose at--snakes."
"Nonsense, Stanley!"
"It is, I can assure you. I would not tell you before, because it
might have set you against it. That soup you had in the cave was
made from snake flesh. The recesses in parts of the caves swarmed
with them, and the men laid in quite a store of them, before we
were besieged. Unfortunately they would not keep well, even in
these cool chambers, so we had to fall back on rice. You liked it
so much that, though there was no occasion to have gone on with
snake soup, after we got to the village, I continued to give it to
you; for it is very nourishing."
"Well, I am glad you did not tell me, at the time; but I must own
that it was excellent, and I think that, in future, I shall have no
objection to snake in that form."
"They are just as good, in other ways," Stanley replied. "The
Burmans are no fools, and I consider that snake and lizards are
very much better eating than their mutton; which is tasteless
stuff, at the best."
"We shall have to have a big settlement, when we get back, Stanley.
Of course, all those men you paid, and the guards you bribed, are
entirely my account; to say nothing of my share of the general
expenditure."
"The general expenses are practically nothing, Harry. I invited you
to come with me and, of course, you were my guest. As to the other
matter, that also is my business. I would not say so, if I had not
plenty of funds, but what with my pay as interpreter, and the year
of back pay that I got when the Gazette came out, I have plenty out
of my income to pay for it, without breaking in upon the amount I
told you I had got for those rubies."
"I should pay you, Stanley, if you were rolling in money. Not that
I should mind taking money from you, if I wanted it, but my
expenses since I landed here have not been anything approaching my
pay and allowances; and I have besides, as I told you, an income of
500 pounds a year of my own. You have risked your life for me, and
I am not going to let you pay the piper, as well."
"All right, if it pleases you, Harry. I am delighted at having been
able to save you and, just at present, money does not seem an
important matter one way or the other; so if it really would be a
satisfaction to you to pay, I will certainly not deprive you of
it."
Although they only travelled ten miles the first day, Harry
acknowledged that he was as tired as a dog when he dismounted; and
was so stiff, the next morning, that he had to be helped on to his
horse. However, this gradually wore off and, on the evening of the
fourth day, they arrived at Prome. Leaving Harry at his regimental
camp, Stanley rode to the headquarters, and there dismounted.
Meinik had led the second horse, after Harry dismounted; and now
took them both across to the lines, with the air of a man who has
only been away a few hours. Stanley at once went up to the general.
"Welcome back, lad!" Sir Archibald said. "You have been longer away
than we expected, when you started. I am glad, indeed, that you
succeeded in rescuing your cousin; and we are all burning to hear
about it. I wrote that note to you in a hurry, for I was on the
point of going on a round of inspection of the camp, when your
sowar arrived. I intended to question him concerning you, on my
return; for I had no idea that, after making such a long journey,
he would start back at once, but I found that he had ridden
straight off, directly the note was handed to him. You must dine
with me, today, and tell me all the story. I see, from the colour
of your skin, that you have been in disguise again."
"Yes, sir. There were materials for dyeing the skin in the village,
but nothing that availed to take it off. It is gradually going and,
as I shall be now able to get some strong alkali, from the doctor,
I hope I shall be presentable by tomorrow."
"They are honourable marks," the general said, with a smile. "I
don't think any of us would mind being so coloured, for a bit, if
we had done such good work as you have; but I won't detain you now,
for dinner will be ready in half an hour."
Stanley hurried to his room, took a bath, donned his mess uniform,
and was ready by the time the bugle sounded. Three or four of the
staff were, as usual, members of the party. After the meal was
over, he was requested to narrate his adventures, at full length.
The story was necessarily a long one and, when he concluded, all
joined the general in hearty commendation for the manner in which
he had carried out the adventure.
"Your last story was a stirring one, Mr. Brooke," the general said;
"but this is even more so. When I received your first note, I
thought it next door to madness for you to try to get your cousin,
badly wounded as you knew him to be, from the hands of the Burmese.
It is not an easy thing to get any man out of prison but, when the
man was unable to help himself, it seemed well-nigh impossible; and
I was greatly afraid that, instead of saving his life, you would
lose your own. Of course, the fact that you had successfully
traversed the country before was strongly in your favour; but then
you were unencumbered, and the two things were, therefore, not to
be compared with each other. I shall, of course, put you in orders
tomorrow as having performed a singularly gallant action, in
rescuing Lieutenant Brooke of the 47th and a sowar from their
captivity, by the Burmese, in a prison at Toungoo.
"You have arrived just in time for, after endeavouring to fool us
for the past three months, by negotiations never meant to come to
anything, the enemy are now advancing in great force, and are
within a few miles of the town. So we are likely to have hot work
of it for from all accounts, they have got nearly as large an army
together as Bandoola had. I don't know whether they have learned
anything from his misfortunes, but I am bound to say that the court
does not seem to have taken the lesson, in the slightest degree, to
heart; and their arrogance is just as insufferable as it was before
a shot was fired."
Stanley learnt that there had already been one fight. The enemy were
advancing in three columns. Their right--consisting of 15,000 men,
commanded by Sudda Woon--had crossed the Irrawaddy, and was marching
down the other bank; with the apparent object of recrossing, below
Prome, and cutting the British line of communication. The centre--from
25,000 to 30,000 strong, commanded by the Kee Wongee--was coming down
the left bank of the river, accompanied by a great fleet of war boats.
The left division--15,000 strong, led by an old and experienced general,
Maha Nemiow--was moving parallel with the others, about ten miles distant
from the centre, but separated from it by a thick and impenetrable
forest. A reserve of 10,000 men, commanded by the king's half-brother,
occupied a strongly fortified post at Melloon. In addition to these, a
large force was gathered near Pegu, and threatened an attack upon Rangoon.
On the 10th of November, a fortnight before Stanley's return, two
brigades of native infantry--under Colonel M'Dowall--had marched
out to dislodge Maha Nemiow; whose division threatened to turn the
British right, and to move round to its rear. The force was divided
into three columns; one moving directly towards the enemy's
position, the others--marching by circuitous routes, so arranged as
to arrive at the point of attack at the same time--were to attack
in flank and rear, while the main body assailed the enemy in front.
The Burmese had, however, obtained information from spies of the
intended movement and, advancing boldly, met the British columns
half way; skirmishing with them hotly in the woods, and threatening
an attack by large bodies of horse.
The centre drove the Burmese before them, and reached their
stockaded position. Colonel M'Dowall, while reconnoitring it, was
killed by a ball from a musket and, as the two flanking columns did
not arrive as expected, the force was compelled to fall back. The
retreat was conducted in good order, but the loss was heavy, as the
Burmese pressed hotly upon them for several miles.
Since this unfortunate affair, the enemy had steadily advanced.
Maha Nemiow had moved directly upon Prome; advancing slowly, and
constantly stockading himself. The centre had also advanced; and
was now fortifying some heights above the river five miles away,
within sight of Prome. Sudda Woon was intrenching himself on the
opposite bank. All these divisions were working, day and night;
advancing steadily but slowly, and erecting formidable lines of
intrenchments as they went; and it seemed to be the intention of
the Burmese general to proceed in that manner, until the whole of
his troops were gathered within a very short distance of the town,
and then to rush upon it from all sides.
In the morning, Stanley went to the lines of the 47th. Harry had,
of course, told his story on his arrival; and the tale had
circulated generally through the regiment and, as he rode in, the
men ran out from their huts and cheered him heartily. No less warm
a greeting did he receive from the officers, in spite of his
protest that there had really been no great difficulty or danger in
the affair.
"What I specially admire," one of the officers said, laughing, "is
that any man should have run all this risk, on purpose, to prevent
himself from coming into an earldom. You had only to leave the
matter alone, and there you were--heir to title and estates."
"I should have been haunted by Harry's ghost," Stanley laughed. "It
would have been as bad as Banquo and Macbeth; he would have sat at
my table, and stood at the head of my bed. No, no; that would have
been a much more serious affair, to face, than a party of Burmese.
The title and estates would have been too dear, at the price."
"Well, you behaved like a brick, anyhow," the colonel said, "and
there is not a man in the regiment who would not have been proud,
indeed, if he had accomplished such a feat. Half my subalterns were
talking, at dinner last night, of learning the language so that, if
the chance fell in their way, they might emulate your doings."
"It is rather a tough language to master," Stanley replied. "It
gave me more trouble than the four or five Indian languages I
speak. I am afraid the campaign will be over, a long time, before
any of your officers learn to talk Burmese well enough to pass as
natives."
After the failure of the expedition of the 10th, no further effort
had been made against the enemy. Indeed, the troops had been
withdrawn from their outlying positions; and there had even been a
feint made of embarking stores, as if with the intention of
retiring down the river, in hopes of tempting the Burmese to make
an attack.
The season had now come when operations could again be carried on,
and the general was anxious to strike a decisive blow at the enemy,
and then to set forward on the march towards Ava. As to the result
of the fight, no one entertained the slightest doubt; although the
disparity in numbers was very great for, while the Burmese
commander had nearly 70,000 men at his disposal, Sir Archibald
Campbell had no more than 6,000, of whom about one half were
British.
It was determined that the main attack should be made on the
division of Maha Nemiow. This was now some six or seven miles away
and, beyond the fact that it was very strongly intrenched in the
jungle, no information whatever could be gained; for the most
vigilant watch was kept up by them, and all efforts to pass native
spies into their lines failed. But it was known that among his
division were 8,000 Shans, from Upper Burma and, as these men had
not hitherto come in contact with us, it was expected that they
would fight with more courage and resolution than those who had
become acquainted with our power.
A large number of princes and nobles were with the force; and great
reliance was placed, by the Burmese, upon three young ladies of
high rank; who were believed by them to be endowed with
supernatural gifts, and to have the power of rendering the missiles
of the English innocuous. These young women, dressed in warlike
costume, constantly rode among the troops; animating them by their
presence, and exhorting them to deeds of courage. The English had
received vague rumours of the doings of these Burmese Joans of Arc,
and thought it probable that the enemy would fight better than
usual.
On November 30th, arrangements were made for attacking the enemy on
the following morning. The flotilla were to open a furious
cannonade upon their works, on both sides of the river. A body of
native infantry were to drive in the advance posts of the centre;
while the main force was to attack their left in two columns, one
moving directly against it, while the other was to attack on the
right flank--thus preventing the enemy from retreating in the
direction of the centre. Four regiments of native infantry were
left in Prome.
General Cotton commanded the main attack and, soon after the column
moved out from the camp, a tremendous cannonade showed that the
flotilla was engaged with the Burmese, on both sides of the river.
The column, which was composed of the 41st and 89th Regiments, with
two battalions of native infantry, proceeded some distance before
becoming engaged with the enemy's outposts; as the Burmese had been
deceived by the cannonade, and believed that the attack was
entirely upon the centre. The troops therefore reached their main
position, around two native villages, without serious opposition.
Illustration: The old Burmese general was carried from point to
point in a litter.
As they issued from the jungle into the cleared space in front of
the stockade they rapidly formed up, under a tremendous fire, and
rushed forward to the attack. The old Burmese general--who was too
infirm to walk--could be seen, carried from point to point in a
litter, cheering on his men, while the three Amazons exposed
themselves fearlessly to the fire. The ladder parties, however,
rushed forward unchecked and, in spite of the opposition of the
enemy, scaled the stockade at one point, and won a footing on the
rampart of earth behind it. Others pressed after them and, soon, a
destructive fire was opened upon the crowded mass, pent up between
the outer stockade and the next. The Burmese method of forming
stockade behind stockade was useful, against a foe of no greater
dash and energy than themselves; but was absolutely fatal when
opposed to English troops, who gave them no time to fall back
through the narrow openings in the palings. These were soon blocked
by the dying and dead.
Some of the Shans, led by their chiefs, fought with desperate
courage; but were unable to stand the advance of the British, whose
steady volleys, poured in at distances of a few yards, swept them
away. Wounded horses, rushing wildly about in the throng, added to
the terrible confusion. Groups of men endeavoured to cut a way
through the stockades behind, others strove to climb over. Maha
Nemiow was killed, while bravely exhorting his men to stand their
ground, and one of the heroic Amazons was shot. As soon as the
troops reached the spot where she fell, and saw that she was a
woman, she was carried into a cottage; and there died, a few hours
afterwards. Stockade after stockade was carried, until the whole
position fell into our hands.
In the meantime the other column, commanded by General Campbell
himself, and consisting of the 13th, 38th, 47th, and 87th
Regiments, and the 38th Madras Infantry, had moved down on the
other side of the Nawine river; and taken up a position to command
the ford there, by which the fugitives from the stockade must
cross, on their way to join the centre. As the crowd of frightened
men issued from the jungle, and poured across the ford, the
artillery opened upon them with shrapnel, and completed their
discomfiture. All thought of joining the centre was abandoned and,
re-entering the jungle, they scattered; and the greater portion of
them started for their homes, intent only on avoiding another
contest with their foes. Another of the Burmese heroines was
killed, at the ford.
Three hundred men had been killed, at the storming of the stockade;
but a far greater loss took place in the retreat--very few of the
Shans ever regaining their country; the greater portion perishing
from starvation, in the great forests through which they travelled
in order to escape the Burmese authorities, who would have forced
them to rejoin the army.