On Water and Food.
The importance of attention to personal hygiene in the matter of what to
eat, drink and avoid, may be judged by the fact that three of the
greatest scourges of tropical life--cholera, dysentery, and typhoid
fever--are conveyed exclusively by the agency of germs that find their
way into the body along with ordinary articles of diet; and even putting
aside diseases of so dramatically striking a character, bad food,
careless cooking, and impure water may set up such minor troubles as
dyspepsia, with all its prolonged attendant miseries of body and mind.
Those who do not die from an attack of cholera or typhoid usually
recover fairly completely, but he who has once suffered from a bad
attack of dysentery is as truly lamed for life as if he had suffered
mutilation of a limb.
Accidents will, of course, occur, whereby the most careful precautions
are frustrated, but putting aside such contingencies, it is quite
possible to guard oneself against either of the above diseases by proper
care and attention; and those who know how to take care of themselves
may carry on their duty, with but little apprehension, while encamped in
the midst of a cholera epidemic, which makes it no uncommon occurrence
to find in the morning several pilgrims dead of the disease within a few
yards of one’s tent. On one occasion, my camp arriving after dusk, I
found in the morning that my tent had actually been pitched over a
new-made grave; but cholera cannot be caught by proximity to either the
dead or dying, but only by the fouling of what enters the mouth, so that
I was more disgusted than alarmed at the gruesome discovery; whereas I
should have been decidedly uneasy for the next day or so, had I
discovered that I had unwittingly swallowed either water or food that
had not been rendered harmless by cooking. There is one point, moreover,
about the necessary precautions, and that is that they must be carried
out, or at least superintended, personally; for neither natives nor even
the lower class of Europeans can be trusted to carry them out, because,
not understanding the reason of them, they are too apt to scamp the
business; and, as a matter of fact, neglect that would discredit a
native dairyman has more than once, to the writer’s knowledge, occurred
in regimental dairies, where every operation was supposed to be either
conducted or superintended by European soldiers.
One of these little incidents, due to sheer laziness and direct neglect
of duty, cost nearly fifty lives, for it more than decimated the wing of
the corps in which it occurred. The method in which this terrible
catastrophe was brought about is worthy of record, as an instance of the
way in which lives are sacrificed by a lack of attention to such
details.
The water supply of the station was excellent and all water used in the
dairy was supposed to be drawn from a standpost. Unfortunately, there
was a well on the dairy premises, and the soldiers in charge were too
lazy to prevent its being used. One of the native dairymen lived in a
village which was attacked with cholera, and like all Hindoos, had a
special vessel for drinking water. This vessel he used, of course, at
home, and also during the day, to get himself a drink from the well in
the dairy. He remained himself free from disease, but the germs of
cholera were carried, adhering to his lotah, or drinking cup, from the
infected village well, to the dairy well, and this, in its turn,
infected the milk stored in vessels which had been washed in the well
water, with the terrible results already described.
The remote fault, of course, in this case lay with the authorities, who
should have seen that no alternative, and more easily obtained, water
supply was available; for no one who knew much about either the native,
or Tommy Atkins would have any doubt of the less laborious source of
water supply being used the moment the eye of authority was off them. As
a matter of fact, the quality of the well water was usually excellent,
and its only fault, that it was not guarded against contamination, so
that not understanding the subtle mechanism of infection, both soldier
and native naturally regarded the journey to the more distant standpost
as a mere unreasonable infliction.
The piped water supply ought, of course, to have been brought into every
room of the dairy, but “spoiling the ship for a pennorth of paint” is a
very common cause of failure in attempts at sanitary reform in India.
I have given this incident at some length, because it affords a good
example of the way in which lives are sacrificed by a want of attention
to the details of sanitary management, and because, although it occurred
in a public institution, and the fatality was on a correspondingly large
scale, it is an equally good illustration of the way in which infection
finds its way into private households.
Let us now proceed to the consideration of the various articles of
supply, commencing with water.
As a rule, in our dependencies and settlements, water supply is of a
private character, as only a few of the larger towns enjoy the
advantages of public waterworks. Even where this is the case too, it is
not always safe to trust entirely to its purity, as in many places the
arrangements are not such as to ensure safety, and it is only in towns
where the waterworks are large modern instalments, with proper
filter-beds, under the constant supervision of an adequate European
staff, that it is safe to forego the systematic sterilising of the
water. In India, for instance, while the supply of Allahabad, Cawnpore,
Lucknow, and most of the other large towns is probably a great deal
above the European average, the mere fact of the supply being laid on in
pipes is by no means a guarantee of purity. In Naini Thal, a
considerable hill station, for example, the supply is pumped directly
from a lake without filtering, close to the spot at which the drainage
of a filthy native bazaar is allowed to flow into it. When living, then,
in a place where there is a piped water supply, it is well to ascertain
if filtration is properly carried out, and if not, to treat the water
with the same suspicion as that derived from any other doubtful source.
Where water of undeniable purity is laid on, all that has to be attended
to is the method of transport from the nearest standpost to the house,
for it is as yet extremely exceptional for pipes to be carried right
into buildings as is the practice in Europe, so that a special servant
as a water-carrier is still a necessity in India, even in large towns.
In this case, and indeed whatever may be the source of supply, it is of
the greatest importance that nothing but metal vessels, so constructed
as to be easily cleaned, should on any account be used. In all Mahomedan
countries, water is conveyed in a goat or calf skin, stripped from the
animal entire, with the legs tied up, and filled from the neck, which is
secured with a thong for transport; and it is a most unfortunate
circumstance that it has become traditional for Europeans to employ the
Mahomedan _bhisti_ with his _mashak_ instead of the more cleanly Hindu
kahar with his easily cleansed iron water vessel, for the Mahomedan
water-skin or _mashak_ is an abomination that cannot be too strongly
condemned. Few will, it is thought, deny that if a piece of half-tanned
hide were found lying in water intended for domestic uses, they would at
once reject it; and apart from the objectionable character of the
material of the _mashak_, it must be remembered that from its
construction it is absolutely impossible to clean the interior; and this
must necessarily become foul in the course of a few days’ use, even if
it were constructed of silver instead of half-dressed hide. Added to
this, it has been ascertained, by actual experiment, that disease germs,
deposited on the outside of a water-skin, are capable of growing into
and working through it, and so continuously contaminating the contained
water. Anyone who knows the ways of the _bhisti_ must be familiar with
the careless way in which his _mashak_ is laid down on the ground
anywhere that may come handy, so that it cannot fail to get frequently
fouled with germs of all sorts, which, owing to the vessel being
composed of organic material, find themselves at once placed on a
“culture medium” as congenial to their growth as if prepared in a
laboratory.
The above reasons, it is thought, should suffice to show that no leather
vessel should on any account be tolerated in connection with our water
supply, and it may be added that there is no difficulty whatever in
substituting cleanly metal buckets for the abominable filth trap that
has just been described.
While the Hindu holds the wholesome belief that contact with leather
means utter defilement to water, and would very probably die at the
stake rather than drink from a _mashak_; the use of the latter by the
Mahomedan is purely a matter of custom, in no way connected with
religious sanction, so that in hospitals too small to afford a double
establishment, a Hindu water-man alone is entertained, because no
Mahomedan can object on the score of religion to taking water from any
cleanly vessel or from any one’s hands, so that though a bhisti can
serve the Mahomedan alone, a _kahar_ can serve both castes.
For many years before leaving India the writer insisted on the use of
metal buckets for carrying his household water, a pair being carried
slung from the ends of a bamboo balanced on the shoulder; and it never
became necessary to dismiss the Mahomedan water-carrier, as he always
proved ready to adopt the change, as soon as he discovered one was in
earnest in the matter, and that any infraction of the rules meant
instant dismissal.
There are no more hard-working and better servants in India than the
_bhistis_, who are deservedly, as a body, great favourites with the
European community, ever ready to put their hand to anything. One who
once served me for several years used often to act as factotum on short
expeditions, cooking my food and waiting at table, and finally, as no
groom was available at the last moment, marched one of my horses from
one end of the Punjab to the other by himself, and brought it in in good
condition. With willing and obliging men of this sort, it is naturally
easy, by a little insistence, to ensure the adoption of any plan that
does not actually clash with their religious beliefs--and I can assure
my Anglo-Indian readers that they, too, will meet with no difficulty in
introducing this important reform, provided they show clearly from the
first that they mean to be obeyed. It is rarely even necessary to
threaten to entertain a Hindoo _paniwalla_ in the _bhisti’s_ place, for
as a race they are of the most amenable.
Putting aside public water supplies, the usual sources are wells, rivers
and springs. Of these, the first are, in most parts of the world, the
most common form of private water supply, and, speaking generally, they
are by far the most reliable, for save in most exceptional cases, the
pollution of a well always takes place from above. It is, of course,
most desirable that the upper part of the well tube should be lined with
impervious cement, but provided a reasonable amount of care be taken to
prevent the surface of the ground near the well becoming fouled, little
danger is to be apprehended from dirty surface water gaining admission
to the well, for there are few better filters than a few feet of
ordinary soil. The ordinary filter, employed in large waterworks,
consists of nothing more than a few feet of sand, and it is well known
that, when in good working order, such filters rival even the Pasteur
biscuit porcelain filter in their power of excluding germs.
Now to reach the interior of a well by any other route than through its
mouth, water must needs pass through a much greater thickness of soil
than is ever used for the filtration of water on a large scale, and
hence, provided the mouth of a well be protected, its water may be used
with the greatest confidence.
At first sight, it appears that nothing should be easier than to provide
the well with a water-tight cover of some sort, and draw all water by
means of a pump; and wherever the water lies sufficiently near the
surface, and the means of keeping a pump in repair are at hand, there
can be no doubt that there can be no better plan. Very often, however,
wells are so deep as to necessitate the use of a force pump, in which
case, unless long connecting rods are used, which are very apt to get
out of order, the pumper has to work half-way down the well, a necessity
which introduces new difficulties and dangers.
In places where pumps cannot be readily repaired, it is useless to
attempt the adoption of this method of raising water, and one must trust
to other means of protecting the supply. The mouth of the well should be
raised a foot or two above the level of the ground by building a masonry
drum, wide enough for the person drawing water to stand on, and well
sloped, so that slopped water runs off, and not back into the well.
It is further highly important to protect the well from drifting leaves
and dust, and also from being used by strangers and passers-by. This is
most easily effected by building a well-house over the mouth of the
well, provided with a door, for even if this is not kept always locked,
it at least serves as an intimation to outsiders that the well is not
public property, which will probably be generally respected. As the
well-house may be of the simplest material and construction, the cost of
one need be no bar to the adoption of the plan; for the shelter will
always be of small dimensions, and can be built with walls of sun-dried
brick and a thatched roof, or even of grass screens throughout.
A single metal vessel and rope should be provided, which should never be
removed from the well-house, and no other vessel should be permitted to
be lowered into the well on any pretence; for the practice of each
person carrying about his own drinking vessel and string provides the
mechanism whereby cholera is carried from one place to another in the
majority of outbreaks of that disease in India. If possible, only a
single servant should be employed to draw water, and he should be
provided with a padlock and instructed to keep the door locked. Very
probably the door will often be left open, but it is something gained if
it be locked for some hours in the day, as the fact of finding the door
even sometimes locked will serve to show outsiders that the use of the
well by them is regarded as a trespass.
Provided that the entry of leaves and other even more objectionable
matters be prevented in this way, a well should require but little
attention, though it may be useful to occasionally purify it, especially
if it has been out of use for some time, by treatment with permanganate
of potash in manner described below.
Where a well is persistently foul, it may be taken as certain that this
is due to prolonged neglect and insufficient cleansing; for when, as is
usually the case, no attempt is made to guard a well, so much dust and
rubbish of all sorts gain admission that it requires to be emptied and
thoroughly cleaned out, down to the soil in which it is excavated, at
least once a year, and the expense of doing this will be found to be at
least as great as the construction of a well-house of inexpensive
materials. When the water of a well has been obviously offensive, the
actual soil at the bottom of the well should be dug out for two or three
feet, and fresh, clean river sand substituted. After the well has
refilled, it should be treated once or twice with permanganate, and the
water will then usually be found to be restored to good condition.
To purify a well by means of permanganate of potassium, take from 2 to 4
ounces of the chemical, according to the size of the well, the larger
quantity being required only in the case of the enormous wells 10 to 12
feet wide that are occasionally met with; draw a bucketful of water and
dissolve the permanganate in its contents by stirring with a stick.
Lower the solution into the well, and flounce the bucket about in the
water till the permanganate is thoroughly mixed. Permanganate attacks
the organic matter present in the water, on which the disease germs and
other micro-organisms feed, and so kills them by starvation, besides
which the brown precipitate which is formed carries down with it much
suspended matter. This process is of especial value in destroying the
cholera microbe, and when moving about in camp, it is an excellent
precaution to send on a man two days in advance to disinfect in this way
the wells that will be used in each camp. If the amount of permanganate
used be sufficient, the water should still retain a faint pink tinge
after twenty-hours, and should have another day’s rest to settle before
being again taken into use. The purer the water, the longer will the
pink tinge persist, while on the other hand, the rapid disappearance of
the colour is an indication of great foulness, and of the necessity for
the application of a further supply of permanganate.
The water of large rivers is usually fairly reliable, provided the water
be got from the full current and not from a backwater, but is often very
turbid from fine sand and other mineral matter. In such cases, the water
may be cleared by stirring it round with a crystal of alum; after which
the suspended mineral matter will sink to the bottom in the course of an
hour or so. The manner in which the alum acts is not clearly understood,
as the amount dissolved is so small as to be insufficient to affect the
taste of the water or to do any harm, even if it be consumed for a long
period. The action of the alum, too, is far more efficient than that of
any ordinary filter, completely clearing glacier-fed water turbid with
particles of such extreme fineness that they will pass anything except
the biscuit-porcelain, or Pasteur, filter. Alum may also be used for
disinfecting wells when permanganate is not obtainable, about twice the
weight of alum being used, but it is not as reliable; and in case of
need, lime may be used, 40 or 50 lbs. of well-slaked lime being thrown
into the well, and thoroughly mixed with the water by keeping it
disturbed for some time.
The water of small pools and marshes should be avoided, and even springs
should be regarded with suspicion, unless some idea can be formed as to
the origin of the water. If this be from a deep source, it may of
course, be safely used, but care must be taken not to mistake surface
drainage that has oozed a short distance under ground for a true deep
spring. Caution in this matter is especially necessary in hill country;
and in doubtful cases it is well to get water analysed by an expert
before adopting it as a permanent supply, for it is noteworthy that some
springs of the highest reputation have been shown to be extremely
impure, the sparkle of their waters being really due to their being
charged with the gases of decomposition.
Not unfrequently, however, the tropical sojourner has no choice as to
his water supply, and must make the best of perhaps a very bad source.
Under such circumstances, all water used for drinking, or in the
preparation of food, must be specially treated so as to remove or
destroy any of the germs of disease which it may contain. It is
desirable, though very difficult, to treat water used for bathing in
the same way, but as a rule, one has to be content with taking every
precaution against such water entering the mouth.
Ordinary filters, it must be clearly understood, are not only useless,
but even worse; for the moist filtering agent, clogged as it is with the
coarse organic and inorganic _débris_ that it has strained out of the
water, is quite capable of acting as a cultivating medium for microbes,
on which they can multiply so enormously that however clear the water
may appear to the eye when it issues, its really dangerous impurity, so
far from being diminished, has been enormously increased. There is only
one form of filter that can be trusted to remove the minute organisms
that are the active agents in the propagation of disease, and that is
that in which the water has to pass through a piece of biscuit
porcelain, the pores of which are so excessively minute that even the
smallest of the bacteria are excluded. The employment of such filters on
a domestic scale is, however, extremely difficult, for they naturally
act so slowly that a very large appliance must be used to secure an
adequate supply. Added to this, their efficiency depends on the
perfection of a number of rubber connections, a material which
deteriorates very rapidly in hot climates, and except by the increased
rapidity of flow, it is not very easy to detect the fault. In any case,
they should never be used except under constant personal care, and one
way and another, they require a good deal of attention; besides which
they are heavy, and quite unsuitable for camp or travelling. On the
other hand, boiling for a few minutes gives a security quite sufficient
for practical purposes, and requires no more formidable appliances than
an ordinary kettle or saucepan, which are available everywhere. I am
perfectly aware that certain spores will sometimes survive the treatment
recommended, but the objection is rather academical than real, and so
far as I know, in the actual practice of daily life no instance of the
conveyance of disease has ever been traced to the use of boiled water,
so that I have always been accustomed to recommend the adoption of this
plan in preference to all others, in all cases where the water supply is
not absolutely above suspicion.
One caution, however, is necessary: always personally to see that the
water boils; for, apart from absolute deception, servants often really
do not know when water has actually reached the boil, as most housewives
know from experience of the spoiling of their “dish of tea.”
There is no need to stand over the man and watch the process however. A
portable stove should be brought into the verandah, and the servant
should be instructed to let one know when it is boiling, so that a
moment’s inspection suffices to satisfy one of the fact, which, after
all, is not a very formidable addition to the day’s work.
The water should be covered so as to protect it from dust and insects,
and put aside to cool. If a _sorhai_, or porous water bottle, be used
for cooling, it should be frequently washed out with strong permanganate
solution and occasionally boiled, as it is difficult to keep the
interior of these vessels clean, on account of their rough surface, and
impossible to see whether they are so or not. It should be remembered,
too, that it is as essential to have pure water on the toilet table for
cleaning the teeth, as it is for drinking purposes, as the quantity of
poison introduced into the system is of comparatively little importance,
in the case of the virus of infective diseases, which have the power of
multiplying within the system.
When travelling, it is a good plan to have an ample supply of tea
brought for the early morning meal, usually taken before dressing; and
to use what is left for cleansing the mouth instead of water. After
standing as it thus has, the tea contains a good deal of tannin, and so
forms an excellent mild astringent mouth wash, which makes it in some
respects an improvement on plain water.
By far the greater proportion of the water consumed by Europeans in hot
countries is, however, drunk in the form of aerated waters, and very
frequently little or no care is taken in their manufacture, even when it
is carried out by European firms in a large way of business. There can
be no doubt that where the business is conducted on a large commercial
scale, the water used should have been passed through suitable
bacteria-proof filters; but in one of the few instances I have met with
where this was even professed to be done, the filtering plant was
obviously absurdly inadequate to filter more than a small percentage of
the supply turned out by the firm. If such is the case with large and
responsible European concerns, the character of the article turned out
by the small native factories can easily be imagined. It would be
hopeless to expect much improvement from the latter, but if consumers
insisted on a guarantee that the water had been sterilised, in the case
of the European factories, there can be little doubt that, before long,
a safe supply would be put on the market to meet the demand.
Of late years the practice of aerated waters being manufactured by clubs
and regimental institutions has enormously increased, but it must be
remembered that, except as regards the avoidance of the coarser grades
of filth, there is little or no advantage in this, unless the water
supply of the factory be religiously guarded against pollution. As in
the case of small institutions the amount of European supervision that
can be given is but small, it may be doubted if much is likely to be
gained by any attempts to sterilise the water either by filtration
through biscuit porcelain or by boiling. The difficulty of cooling the
water is an insuperable obstacle to the adoption of the latter expedient
on even as large a scale as is required for a small club, for to make
good aerated beverages the water must be as cool as possible. Quite
recently the writer went over a station factory to try and ascertain why
the “soda” was so feeble. Installed in a corner was a bath warmer
capable of warming some forty or fifty gallons of water sufficiently for
bathing purposes, but quite incapable of boiling so large a quantity
under any circumstances, and indeed, not constructed with the view of
doing so. This appliance had been installed by some previous zealous
reformer, with the view of sterilising the drinks of the station, but he
had never been at the pains of ascertaining if it was really capable of
bringing its contents to the boiling point.
The murder was out:--the club soda had been systematically made of
luke-warm fluid, tainted with the indescribable flavour of half cooked
water. At the well a number of _bhistis_ were chattering with a
wandering _faqir_; and if his _lotah_ had not been let down, the last
time it was used, into a cholera-infected well, it was no fault of the
arrangements. As the health of the entire European community depends on
the purity of this well it should surely be worth while to make some
attempt to secure its purity. It is quite true that the building of a
well-house with a locked door might not ensure the absolute exclusion of
unauthorised intruders, but an occasional surprise visit would go far to
ensure a very general, if not complete, obedience to orders; especially
after detection of neglect on some occasion had been followed by prompt
dismissal of the responsible servant, and after the prompt destruction
of any unauthorised water skins found in the well house. It is no more
difficult to secure the locking up of a well, than it is to check
peculations of club stores, provided that equal attention be devoted to
the matter. No one expects absolute success in either task, but there
can be no doubt that ill-gotten gains are successfully reduced to a
minimum in most well-managed institutions; and surely our lives are as
important as the curtailing of our club bills to the extent of a few
shillings per mensem. Besides, to put it on a mere commercial basis, an
attack of typhoid is a most expensive luxury, even apart from its
dangers. After all, a doctor and two trained nurses for a month,
followed up by an unostentatious funeral, cost something, and a very
small proportion of the energy that is devoted by zealous honorary
secretaries to thwarting the efforts of the club “bearer” to appropriate
kerosine would go far to keep a well free from pollution. In places
where no reliable aerated water is obtainable, there is no longer any
necessity of drinking the more than doubtful fluids bottled in some
dirty corner of the bazaar, as there is no longer any necessity for any
complicated plant for the purpose.
At the present day, carbonic acid, compressed in steel cylinders, can be
obtained at all large centres, and the attachment for filling bottles
costs so little, and the method of using it is so simple that there is
no difficulty whatever in making aerated waters at home, no skill
whatever being required in the process.
The germs of certain diseases, such as cholera, are killed by the
prolonged action of carbonic acid under pressure, and on this account,
it is a good plan to keep a stock of aerated waters for a week before
using them, but it must be understood that this is no protection against
many other diseases, the majority of their germs being unaffected by
carbonic acid.
In the matter of food supply, the main points that require attention are
that it should be not only well, but also thoroughly, cooked, as only in
this way can the destruction of disease germs be secured. Further,
cooked food put aside for subsequent consumption should always be
carefully protected from the access of insects. No one who has noticed
how flies are attracted by filth of all sorts, and their omnivorous
liking for food of every kind, can doubt that they must necessarily
occasionally befoul food with the filth on which they have been
battening but a few moments before; and in all probability both cholera
and typhoid fever are not unfrequently conveyed in this way. Many
articles of food, such as soups, jellies, and milk puddings, form ideal
“cultivating media” for disease germs, as their composition is
practically the same as the materials that are artificially prepared for
the purpose in the bacteriological laboratories; so that if food of this
sort be accidentally inoculated by an insect fresh from feeding on some
dangerous form of filth, it may, in a few hours, become a teeming mass
of microbes of the most virulent character. On this account a liberal
supply of wire gauze dish covers should always be provided by the
careful housekeeper in the tropics, and no cold food should ever be put
aside without being covered in this way, unless it be placed in a large
safe constructed of the same material, of which one or two should form a
part of the furnishing of every tropical house. For camp use,
receptacles formed of strong, closely-meshed, hand-made cotton netting,
kept extended by means of hoops of cane, are very useful, as they
collapse and occupy little or no space on the march. It is almost
needless to remark that a cool airy spot should be selected for the
larder, and that all safes, covers, &c., should be scrubbed out at
frequent intervals with soap and water, to which a little boracic acid
may advantageously be added.
After these preliminary remarks it will be preferable to consider
separately the selection and treatment of the principal articles of
food.
_Milk._--Owing to the fact that, apart from the question of deliberate
adulteration, a certain amount of the water used for cleansing and
rinsing vessels, &c., generally gains access to milk, it is always open
to contamination in the same way as the water supply; and as milk forms
an excellent cultivating medium for many sorts of bacteria, their
multiplication to a dangerous extent is a very easy matter, so that
there is probably no article of food which is so often concerned in the
transmission of disease.
The conditions under which cattle are stalled and the milk collected, in
the more or less imperfectly civilised countries with which we are
concerned, are usually filthy to a degree; and hence it may be laid down
as an universal rule that unless one’s dairy is under one’s own personal
supervision milk should always be either boiled or systematically
“sterilised” before using. There are a number of excellent appliances in
the market for sterilising milk, and as directions for their employment
always accompany them, it is unnecessary to occupy space with any
instructions as to their use.
Unfortunately it is by no means certain that boiled or sterilised milk
is as wholesome and digestible as the natural untreated article, and
that there is a distinct, and slightly disagreeable, alteration of taste
cannot be denied. It has been asserted that infants fed exclusively on
sterilised milk are liable to be attacked by a form of scurvy, though it
does not appear quite established that the possible sophistication of
the milk in other ways has been excluded in the instances that have been
reported, and it is undeniable that large numbers of infants thrive
excellently on milk so treated. In any case, the risks of harm accruing
to either infants or adults from the use of sterilised milk are
absurdly small in comparison with those with which they are threatened
by the consumption of milk, produced under conditions over which no
supervision can be exercised.
Apart, moreover, from the dangers of filth and infection, the milk
supplied by native cow-keepers is nearly always of poor quality owing to
niggardliness and ignorance in the feeding of the animals, which are
either kept stalled under foully unsanitary conditions, or, on the other
hand, may be left to wander about and pick up a living as best they can.
When pressed by hunger, there is no fouler feeder than a cow, and it is
a dismal fact that, in the polity of an Indian village, the cattle rival
the pigs in their efficiency as scavengers, so that from the mere point
of nicety it is well, whenever possible, to keep one’s own milch cattle.
Cattle kept for milking should always be as carefully groomed and bedded
down as one’s most valued horses, and before milking the udders and the
hands of the milker should be carefully washed. When it is impossible to
keep cows, there is often no difficulty in keeping goats, one or two of
which will easily supply sufficient milk for use with tea, in which
alone the altered flavour of boiled milk becomes disagreeably
perceptible. Goats are extremely hardy, and being naturally clean
feeders, require far less attention than cows, while the flavour of
their milk in tea is preferred by many to that of cow’s milk. They stand
marching well too, and are therefore better suited for use in camp; and
as their favourite food is the leaves of bushes they may be trusted to
find their living to a great extent as they trot along on their way from
camp to camp. Usually their milk agrees excellently with infants, but
there can be little doubt that asses’ milk is superior for this purpose.
It is quite a mistake to imagine that it is a sufficient precaution to
have a cow brought to the house and milked in one’s presence. Various
expedients are known to all cowkeepers whereby the richest part of the
milk can be reserved for butter making, and apart from the knowledge of
physiological facts which enables this to be done, the native cowkeeper
is capable of performing certain small feats of legerdemain by which the
milk may be pretty freely diluted under the very eyes of his European
customer.
Well aware of the “sahibs’” absurd fad for cleanliness, a native
cowkeeper I met with utilised our weakness in that respect to perform a
very clever trick. He always brought with him a bowl of clean water,
with which he ostentatiously washed the udders of the cow, and while
milking, on the pretext that a cool hand was necessary for the process,
he occasionally dipped his really well washed hands into the bowl.
Hidden in the palm, however, was a piece of sponge, which was squeezed
against the udder in the action of milking, so that its contents mingled
with the milk as it jetted into the can, and by frequently repeating the
cooling process, he was able to dilute the milk to a very profitable
extent. It is well, therefore, to occasionally test the quality of milk,
and this is better done by noting the depth of cream that rises in a
given long, narrow glass, than by any of the so-called lactometers, as
they really only test the specific gravity of the milk, as they afford
no sure index of the amount of fatty matter present, and it is on this
that the main nutritive properties of milk depends.
For the use of infants on voyages, unconcentrated sterilised milk should
always be used, as it is much less altered by the process than is the
case with the “condensed” article, even when the latter is honestly and
carefully prepared. This, however, is far from being even generally the
case, as very often the milk has been skimmed before concentration, and
large numbers of cases of malnutrition among infants are due to this
cause, as the material lends itself easily to the perpetration of
despicable frauds of this sort, which appear to be sometimes practised
even by large and much advertised concerns. In the case of
unconcentrated sterilised milk on the other hand, the substitution of
skim milk can be detected at a glance.
_Butter._--Containing as it does a considerable proportion of unaltered
milk and whey, butter is open to the same dangers as the milk from which
it is prepared, and it is therefore equally risky to obtain it from
uncertain sources, so that, where these are doubtful, it is better to
have it made in the house.
Butter can be easily made on a small scale, by shaking cream in a
wide-mouthed bottle, or by beating it with a fork, and as it tastes none
the worse for being made from boiled milk, and the poorness or otherwise
of the latter only affects the yield of butter, there is no need of any
great caution as to the source of supply for this purpose. It should be
needless to remark that all vessels used for setting the cream and for
other purposes in the process should be kept scrupulously clean, and be
frequently scalded, as success is impossible without minute precautions
in this respect.
Buffalo milk is nearly twice as rich as the milk of even the best humped
cattle, and is therefore to be preferred for the purpose of making
butter. There is a silly prejudice against the use of buffalo milk among
Europeans in India, but it is really far superior to that supplied by
the local breeds of cattle, even when well fed and carefully kept, and
the only objection that can be fairly raised to butter made from it, is
its absolute whiteness, which, however, is easily modified by the
addition of a little harmless colouring matter. I have often been much
amused at guests remarking on the excellence of the butter they were
eating, who were convinced they could detect the least taste of “that
nasty buffalo butter,” which in reality they were consuming with the
greatest gusto all the while. In spite of her uncouth appearance, the
buffalo cow is a nicer feeder than are the Indian humped cattle, and it
is well known that the flavour of milk is greatly affected by the
character of the animal’s food.
Tinned butter is generally quite wholesome, but is, strictly speaking,
not butter at all, but _ghi_, as the material is necessarily melted in
the process of tinning.
_Cheese._--I cannot recall any instance of cheese being incriminated as
a carrier of disease. This product is really the result of the action of
certain special microbes on milk; and it is probable that any
micro-organisms of a dangerous character that may chance to be present
in the milk employed in its manufacture, are crowded out and destroyed
during the vegetative changes that determine the production of cheese.
Tinned cheese, though often of inferior flavour, is usually quite
wholesome, and is quite good enough for made dishes. Used as cheese is
by the Italian housewife as a flavouring agent rather than a food, it
may be used in the concoction of a great variety of dishes having
macaroni, rice, or vegetables as their basis, and is invaluable used in
this way to impart a variety to the rather scanty menu available during
the hotter months, when eatable meat is often almost unobtainable; and
from considerations of health, it is desirable to reduce the amount of
this form of nourishment.
_Meat._--The meat obtainable in hot countries is usually greatly
inferior to what we are accustomed to in England, although it may be
doubted if it be any worse than the average supplies of most parts of
Europe.
The animals are much smaller, a cleaned carcase of mutton weighing often
no more than 30 lbs. in the East; and the same remark applies, in a
smaller degree, to beef. Prime meat, such as alone satisfies the English
market, can only be produced by careful stall feeding, which is an
expensive process in any part of the world; and it is a mistake to
suppose that such meat can be produced very much more cheaply in one
part of the world than in another, as its cost depends on that of grain,
which in these days of rapid communication, has a tendency to equalise
itself throughout the world. The meat supply, available in the local
markets, is usually simply grass-fed, and none too well nourished at
that, so that it is usually stringy and of poor flavour, though very
cheap as compared with European prices; and people are apt to grumble at
the much higher price demanded for specially grain-fed meat; but the
better article is well worth the extra cost from the health point of
view, so that when local enterprise fails, it is very desirable that
European residents should combine to supply themselves.
In India co-operations of this sort are usual in the smaller stations,
and are known as “Mutton Clubs.” To get the animals into anything like
good condition, they must be grain-fed for at least four or five
months, so that the club must start with at least forty to fifty sheep
for each four members, and this number must be kept up by fresh
purchases as soon as killing is commenced; it being usual for each
member to be apportioned a quarter twice a week. A shepherd has, of
course, to be entertained, and the butcher paid for slaughtering and
preparing the meat, so that the cost seldom falls far short of the best
English meat; but mutton thus fattened can hardly be surpassed, and it
must not be forgotten that wholesome food is no less essential to health
than pure water, so that the plan might with advantage be adopted in
other similarly situated communities.
Neither veal nor lamb are, as a rule, very satisfactory, as the
condition of the parental animals is rarely good enough to enable them
to get their progeny into plump condition, and pork should certainly be
avoided, except in the highly salted and smoked form of imported ham and
bacon. Even in temperate climates pork is very liable to those peculiar
forms of decomposition, barely perceptible to the nose or eye, which
give rise to ptomaine poisoning; and the risk of accidents of this sort
is obviously much greater in hot latitudes.
Poultry, like meat, in the countries with which we have to deal, nearly
always requires to be fed up at home before killing, and there is as a
rule no difficulty in doing so, as space is usually ample, and the birds
require but little attention. It should not be forgotten that scraps
from the table are invaluable for fattening poultry of all sorts--odds
and ends of meat being specially valuable.
It is important that meat should be hung long enough for it to become
tender before cooking, and as the changes that bring about the wholesome
softening of meat are quite distinct from the operations of the bacteria
that are concerned in ordinary decomposition, it is possible to do this
even in the hottest weather provided that means are taken to suspend
bacterial action.
“Wyvern” in his invaluable “Culinary Jottings from Madras,”[1] a book
which should be possessed and carefully studied by every tropical
housewife, concludes with what he terms “The last and most worthy recipe
of all.” “It is not generally known that the fumes of sulphur prevent
the rapid decomposition of animal matter and that tender meat can be
had, in the hottest weather, by exposing the joint to the fumes of
burning pastiles in an air-tight box for two or three hours after being
brought from market. A joint thus treated will keep perfectly for
thirty-six hours, even in Madras, and will be found deliciously tender
the day after it is purchased. Take--sulphur, 2 lbs., powdered charcoal,
1¹⁄₂ oz., saltpetre, 2 oz.[2] Mix, and add just enough gum water to
shape them into pastiles of conical form. A roomy tin-lined packing
case, fitted with hooks to suspend the meat, and with a well-fitting
door, which can be easily made air-tight by means of strips of felt
nailed round the edge, is all that is required. Suspend the meat, place
two or three pastiles below it, light them, close the door securely and
leave well alone.” The writer has personally tested this plan, and can
answer for its excellence; and also that, once the appliance has been
obtained, its use involves, practically speaking, no trouble whatever,
as it is just as easy to store the meat in this way as in an ordinary
safe.
[1] Calcutta: Thacker, Spink and Co., 1885.
[2] These pastiles can be made up by any chemist, and used to be
stocked by Waldie and Co., of Cawnpore.
Under the debilitating influences of prolonged heat the digestive powers
are never too strong, so that it is taxing them too far to ask of them
to digest the quasi leather that has to pass for meat in tropical
weather, unless measures of this sort be adopted; and health, it must be
remembered, depends largely upon good digestion.
In the countries with which we are concerned, meat should always be
thoroughly cooked, no portion being left showing the red of unaltered
blood, as the persistence of the red colour shows that the meat has not
been raised to a temperature sufficiently high to kill internal worms.
Out of the many hundreds of carcases that I have examined in India and
at the Cape, I cannot recall finding even one absolutely free from the
encysted parasites that develop in man into tapeworms; and it is
well-known that the same is the case in Australia and most other warm
countries; besides which it is very doubtful if meat is really more
nutritious or digestible, when eaten “raw.” All parasites of this class
however, are killed by a temperature of 140° F., and as the blood
contained in the meat turns brown at this heat, no risk is run, provided
it has lost its pink colour.
_Eggs_, whether consumed raw or cooked, are perfectly safe as long as
they remain in good condition; and so may be relied upon greatly where
supplies are of doubtful quality. It is useful to remember that they
keep much longer if the shells be well smeared with oil.
_Fish._--On account of its easy digestibility, fish forms a very
desirable article of food for the tropical resident, but it is almost
needless to say that the greatest care is necessary to secure its being
brought to the table in the freshest condition. On this account fish
transported for long distances in ice in such climates should always be
regarded with suspicion, for most medical men who have practised long
“up country” must recall cases where disagreeable consequences have
resulted from its use. I cannot say that I have always found myself able
to resist the temptations of ice-carried _pomfret_ from Bombay, but
would give this hint that fish so transported should never be eaten in
the form of “made dishes,” but always either plainly boiled or fried;
under which circumstances the first mouthful can hardly fail to make
apparent the least sign of commencing decomposition. It is safer,
however, in inland places to rely on river fish; and in their case the
muddy flavour, which so often renders plainly cooked fish unacceptable,
may often be masked by cooking them with tomatoes or other vegetables,
or by boning them and serving up as a curry, only please consult
“Wyvern,” or some other competent authority, before instructing your
_chef_; for a curry is not mulligatawny soup with scraps of food
floating in it, as so many people who have not lived in India appear to
imagine, and fish curried _a l’Anglais_ is most uninviting.
_Vegetables._--A free supply of these is essential to healthy nutrition
in all climates, and especially so in the Tropics, where it is desirable
to restrict the amount of meat consumed. English folk might with great
advantage take lessons from our neighbours across the channel, by
introducing to their tables _plats_ of vegetables served up alone, and
flavoured with some tasty stock, or with simply a little butter. Well
cooked, and served piping hot, such dishes are most tempting and
wholesome, and may most advantageously take the place of meat dishes at
the mid-day meal in hot climates; besides which it is as great a mistake
to mask the delicate flavour of early peas and French beans by eating
them with meat, as it would be to try to appreciate the flavour of a
vintage claret under like circumstances. Where vegetables are scarce, it
is well to investigate the dietary of the native races amongst whom one
lives, as even in long-settled colonies it is astonishing how often
excellent articles of food are entirely neglected by European residents.
Served up as _haricots verts_, the soy bean (_Glycine soja_) or the
lablab bean (_Dolichos lablab_) cut at the same stage of maturity, as is
customary with the ordinary French bean, are excellent and are specially
valuable, as they come on at a time when little else is obtainable; but
in spite of this, they are very rarely eaten by Europeans. Then too a
great variety of succulent leaf plants form an excellent substitute for
spinach, and a variety of herbs, wild or cultivated, suitable for
serving up in this way, are usually known to the indigenous inhabitants
of any country; the very young tops of gram (_Cicer arietinaum_), for
example, are excellent eating. During the Cgaleka campaign, the troops
were often for long periods quite without vegetables, and one day the
writer, wandering among the kraals near the camp, found some Kaffir
women busily gathering a wild plant with small succulent leaves. On
discovering that they were picking it for food, a basketful was
purchased from them, and when cooked, furnished an excellent dish,
almost indistinguishable from genuine spinach. Arrangements were then
made to supply the entire detachment once or twice a week; and the men
remained throughout the year entirely free from scurvy, a disease which
has nearly always given rise to a certain amount of trouble in prolonged
military operations in that part of the world, and notably in the Boer
concentration camps during the late war.
Many vegetables, too, are excellent when cut very young, which are
scarcely eatable when mature. This is especially the case with the
bhindi, one of the commonest of the few hot weather Indian vegetables;
but your native gardener likes to see them “large and fine,” and will
never cut them young enough unless this is insisted upon by his
customer. Many vegetables such as pumpkins, onions and tomatoes, may be
kept a long time if hung up in an airy place so that they do not come in
contact with each other; and where the plan is not practised by those
who supply the market, it is well to bear this point in mind, so as to
lay by a timely supply against the “rainy day” when vegetables will be
scarce. There can be little doubt that the inclusion of a certain amount
of uncooked vegetable food in the dietary is always desirable, but
salads are too often a dangerous luxury, owing to the very obvious
danger from the fertilisers that may have been used in their
cultivation, and on this account it is better to avoid them, unless one
is absolutely certain as to the conditions under which they are grown;
the more as an adequate supply of vegetable acids and salts can usually
be taken in the form of fruit. Cucumbers and tomatoes, which can be
peeled, need not of course be included in this general law against leaf
salads, but tomatoes should always be peeled, as the skin is extremely
indigestible, and is a frequent cause of diarrhœa. By dipping it for an
instant in boiling water, the skin may be removed with the greatest ease
without crushing the tomato.
_Fruit._--The remarks that have been made as to the avoidance of raw
vegetables that cannot be peeled apply necessarily to fruit, and those
in which this is impossible should always be cooked. Provided the fruit
be sound--neither over nor under ripe--a certain amount may always be
taken by most persons with advantage, but during hot weather, when the
digestive organs are feeble and irritable, it is well to avoid fruit
such as apples, which are naturally rather hard of digestion, even when
in the best condition. For the same reason, the harder portion of a
melon near the skin should be avoided, as hard melons, like any other
indigestible matter, may cause looseness; but it is a mistake to imagine
that they can cause cholera, a superstition which leads many people to
deny themselves the indulgence in this very wholesome and delicious
fruit. The origin of this fallacy is no doubt to be found in the fact
that cholera is usually at its worst during the melon season, but there
is no causal connection between these merely coincident facts.
_Bread._--When manufactured by the unsuperintended native, the
conditions under which this almost indispensable article of food is
prepared are too often unspeakably nasty; but a good deal more might be
done to ameliorate this than is usually attempted, by the occasional
unofficial superintendence of customers, and by the boycotting of such
bakers as refuse to maintain a decent standard of cleanliness. It is
quite possible that the result of such a visit may lead the enquirer to
“cry off” bazaar-made bread for the rest of his life, for it is an
absolute fact that a surprise visit of this sort once revealed the fact
that several lepers were employed in kneading the European bread supply;
but it is surely undesirable that such enormities should be perpetrated
unchecked, and there can be no doubt that at least some improvement
might be secured if people would but interest themselves in the matter.
When good bread cannot be obtained, it should be remembered that it is
quite possible for it to be made at home with baking powder, by the use
of which the trouble and uncertainty involved in the use of yeast may be
avoided.
Investigations conducted under the Food and Drugs Act have, however,
shown that the acid ingredient of many baking powders is alum, which is
injurious, if taken for any time in so large a quantity as is required
to raise bread, so that perhaps it is safer to use cream of tartar and
bicarbonate of soda, mixed separately with the flour in the proportion
of 16 by weight of the former to 7 of the latter; a bare teaspoonful of
the tartar, to an eggspoon of soda, for each nine tablespoons of flour,
is the housewife’s way of getting a sufficiently near approach to
chemical accuracy.
_Other foodstuffs._--Most Oriental nations depend largely for their
supply of nitrogenous or proteid food on pulses of various sorts, and,
weight for weight, many of these are far more nutritious even than
meat. No doubt religious and economical considerations have had much to
say in the development of this preference, but, on the other hand, the
minute regulations to be found in many religious codes are very often
based on really sound sanitary notions that have grown up as the result
of traditional experience, and it is probable that the repugnance of the
Hindu for meat food, though doubtless carried too far, is based on
something more than a mere whim of ritual, and that the introduction of
pulses into our dietary as a partial substitute for meat would be
advantageous, at any rate during the great heats. At such seasons, the
kidneys have all they can do to clear off the waste materials that
naturally result from the work of the body, and as meat always contains
a large amount of these same waste materials that have originated in the
work of the animal that furnished the meat, it is obvious that its
extensive use must throw an additional strain on already over-taxed
organs. Caution in this matter is, of course, doubly necessary in
persons who suffer from either gouty or rheumatic tendencies. The two
most palatable among the commoner pulses are lentils (_Lens esculenta_)
and thur dal. (_Cajanus Indicus_), the latter of which often finds its
way to Anglo-Indian tables, but might be more extensively eaten with
advantage. All pulses require very thorough cooking, and should be
reduced to an absolute pulp by the process; for under other
circumstances, they are apt to prove extremely indigestible, whereas
when properly treated they are absorbed with the greatest facility.
Rice should be so cooked that the grains, though thoroughly softened,
lie quite separate, but it is seldom or never met with cooked to
perfection out of India, and by no means always there. The stodgy,
sticky mass turned out by the ordinary English cook, or French _chef_,
obstinately resists admixture with the gastric juice, and instead of
being the lightest, is converted into a very heavy article of food.
The secret, I understand, consists in putting the well-washed rice into
boiling water to which a crystal of alum has been added, and completing
the cooking in this. The alum water is then washed off with several
changes of cold water, the rice drained, and finally warmed up over a
very gentle fire.
_Tinned provisions._--A good many familiar home luxuries can only reach
our distant possessions in the form of tinned stores, but there is a
tendency to rely too much on them. At their very best they cannot
approach well-cooked fresh food in wholesomeness and palatability; and
frugality in their employment may be always regarded as one of the
distinguishing marks of a good housekeeper, for, speaking generally, the
less tins are used the better.
The various classes of food, however, vary greatly in the extent of
deterioration produced by the process of tinning. Most vegetables and
fruits preserve well in this way, and at any rate I cannot recall any
instance of their having been proved to do harm. Meat and fish that have
been highly smoked or salted, as well as fish preserved in oil, also
appear fairly safe; but tinned fresh meat, and fish of all sorts are
luxuries that should be avoided by prudent persons, unless driven to
their consumption by scarcity. Tinned soups, containing as they usually
do a considerable amount of salt, appear generally safe; and are better
in the case of emergencies than the so-called meat extracts, which at
best merely act as stimulants. Despite all that specious advertisements
and uninformed testimonials may blazon forth to the contrary, it is an
impossible feat to pack a cow in a cup, and, though there is a
considerable concentration of undesirable excrementitious matter, the
actual nutritive value of these preparations is less than that of an
equal bulk of the meat from which they are produced.[3] They, of
course, have their uses, but must not be depended upon for nourishment
in prolonged cases, where they are in every way inferior to properly
made beef tea. In ordinary cookery their use is quite indefensible, on
account of the strain thrown upon the excretory organs in the
elimination of the excrementitious matters of which they are so largely
composed.
[3] _Vide_ “Patent Foods and Patent Medicines,” by Robert Hutchison,
M.D. (John Bale, Sons, and Danielsson, price 1s.). Although written
mainly for the medical profession, this very able little pamphlet
might be widely read by the too easily gullible general public with
great advantage. The writer shows that some of the expensive “meat
juices” are nothing more than diluted white of egg, and that even when
genuine, their nutritive value is no higher than the fraudulently
substituted egg albumen. Dr. Hutchison’s recipe for “meat” juice is
not only amusing, but is well worthy of reproduction for its practical
value, as it may save people from wasting many of the half crowns
which they now contribute to enable the manufacturers of puffed
rubbish to make the hoardings and country-side hideous with their
advertisements.
“You can manufacture ‘meat juice’ yourself at a very low cost. Here is
a bottle of it which I made this morning. Take the white of egg, add
an equal quantity of water, and strain through muslin, then flavour
the mixture with any quantity of Liebig’s extract dissolved in a
little warm water which you think suitable. By that means you get a
preparation extremely rich in coagulable albumen which you can produce
at one penny per ounce; and it is one of which the patient can swallow
a pailful, if he can get it down, without it doing him any harm. So I
see no necessity to buy any of the juices in the market so long as
hens exist. That which you make in this way is as good as what you
buy, for egg albumen is as nutritious as meat albumen, and it is
vastly inferior to it in price.”
_The Question of Alcohol_ does not, I think, need any special treatment
here, as I doubt if its bearings are in any way altered by a change of
latitude. Equally in the tropics and on polar expeditions, the majority
of persons are, to say the least of it, none the worse for total
abstinence; but excess is neither more nor less fatal in the one than in
the other locality, and you will everywhere find a few to whom alcohol
in strict moderation is useful. One would hesitate to say that this
minority would be actually harmed by abstinence, but I am, on the other
hand, equally sceptical as to the harmfulness of strict moderation; for,
despite the very strong evidence of insurance statistics as to the
superior longevity of total abstainers, it must be remembered that the
so-called moderate drinkers must necessarily include a considerable
number of those who would define moderation as the avoidance of getting
drunk, and that the teetotaller is, _ipso facto_, usually one who is
inclined to take more than usual care of his health.
_Cooking and kitchen management._--In the first place, the rule may be
generally laid down that it is a false economy to be niggardly in the
matter of the cook’s wages. The desirability of good cooking is far
from being a mere matter of the gratification of the tastes, but is
undoubtedly also a matter of the first hygienic importance. Added to
this, a skilful operator can turn a wholesome and appetising dish out of
comparatively inferior materials, while a bad one will turn the best
into indigestible nastiness; and it will be generally found that those
who economise on this detail of expenditure, pay for it over and over
again by an excessive expenditure on ready cooked, and tinned foods.
A second point of at least equal importance is the insistence of
cleanliness in the kitchen, and in all the operations of cookery, but to
secure this adequate appliances must be supplied; for it is useless to
expect either good cookery or decent cleanliness without an adequate
outfit of “pots and pans,” and proper appliances for cleaning them. At
the same time it is a mistake to suppose that the utensils in use among
English people will serve equally well in other hands, so that it is
generally better to purchase locally what is needed. The heavy English
iron saucepan is, _e.g._, quite unsuited for use on charcoal fires, and
an Indian generally lacks the strength of wrist to manipulate it with
its clumsy and ill-contrived handle. Speaking generally, aluminium
cooking vessels will be found most suitable for charcoal or wood fires,
but they should be, if possible, fashioned in the forms to which the
local cook is accustomed. Their great advantages are that they lend
themselves well to cleansing with sand or ashes, which comes natural to
races to whom soap is an unaccustomed luxury; while, unlike copper
utensils, they do not require periodical tinning, and so are free from
the risk of causing metallic poisoning. Most English housekeepers will
probably admit that, even with a home establishment, a certain amount of
superintendence of affairs below-stairs can hardly be dispensed with;
and if this be so, how very much more must such scrutiny be necessary in
places where the workers belong to races to whom cleanliness in such
matters is an exotic curiosity. Too often, however, people are apt to
let these matters drift, and try to comfort themselves with the
reflection that the heart need not imagine what the eye has not seen,
but those who do so expose themselves to the certainty of consuming
unspeakable nastiness.
I remember well how our mess committee decided that each week a couple
of officers in turn should inspect the officers’ kitchen. Being the
first on the roster, the senior major and myself proceeded to make our
first inspection.
As we were expected, a very salutary, and probably much needed, clean up
had been effected, and we found little to criticise till we turned to go
away; when making for the door, the kindly major, who could never resist
the sight of a child, espied sitting behind the door the brown but
cherubic form of the butler’s little boy, dressed in the national
costume for children of his age of a piece of string. So he strolled
towards the child with the intention of gratifying his little friend
with some coppers to purchase sweets, when the urchin respectfully
sprang to his feet and revealed the fact that the stool on which he was
sitting was a huge round of spiced beef, which had figured on the
sideboard at breakfast, and was meant to reappear at lunch. Now we all
know that our food must necessarily be more or less handled, but, on the
whole, most of us would prefer it not to be sat upon; and our visit
resulted in the provision of a proper safe for cold provisions, which,
as a matter of fact, was wanting.
This is hardly the place for any detailed consideration of culinary
matters, but I would commend to the careful consideration of every
tropical housekeeper “Wyvern’s” excellent article on “Our Kitchens in
India,” in his book already quoted. There is only one point on which the
writer would be disposed to disagree with his authority, and that is as
to his recommendation of coal and English kitchen ranges; for whatever
may be the case in Madras, this would, for many reasons, be in most
places impracticable. Charcoal is a fuel which, no doubt, requires a
great deal of attention, but native cooks are quite accustomed to this,
and, trouble apart, its cleanliness and freedom from smoke makes it an
ideal fuel for cooking, and the antiseptic properties of the charcoal
dust in the kitchen are not to be despised.