some signs of higher animal life, and wondering why such beautiful
spots should continue uninhabited, my thoughts wandered into the region
of fancy, and pictured many things.

So strong in me was the desire of leading a Robinson Crusoe kind of
existence on one of them, that I must have given my thoughts audible
expression, for I heard a voice beside me, “No, you wouldn’t; and if
you did you’d be sorry for it!” I saw that the speaker was a merchant,
the owner of a coasting vessel; and as he refused to explain his
interruption, I might have considered it an impertinence on his part,
but that his face betrayed unwonted sadness. For two days he made no
further allusion to the subject, and I was left to speculate upon
the probable cause of his emotion; someone he loved, perhaps, fell
overboard opposite that identical island into the jaws of a ravenous
shark. Or maybe, a quarrel arose among his Lascars, who forthwith ran
amuck, staining his decks with blood, and branding his good ship with
an evil reputation.

Or, if both these conjectures were erroneous, he may have been driven
ashore through carelessness or a storm, suffering thereby pecuniary
loss as well as bodily injury.

As usual, my speculations were all at fault. One evening after
dinner, my fellow-passenger told me his tale; and as it will serve
as a warning to those of my readers who are given to dwelling in airy
castles, besides affording a more specific description of the general
characteristics of these islands than my own personal experience would
enable me to give, I make no apology for reproducing it, while we are
still in sight of the archipelago.

He was, as I have already mentioned, a trader, the owner of a
sailing-vessel, in which he conveyed merchandise between the various
ports along the coast. It was an independent and profitable method of
doing business, and his Lascars were all hard-working, steady men.

Sailing to and fro past these islands, the idea of residing on one of
them for a time, Crusoe fashion, grew upon him with such force, that it
finally became irresistible.

The first move in the wrong direction was landing, and roaming about
the island—the identical one that had attracted my attention two days
previously—with one of his men.

Not content, however, he constructed a temporary abode on the side
facing the mainland, which was fitted up in a rude way with some of
the ship’s furniture; and as nothing ever passed on that side of the
island, save the mail steamer and his own vessel, he left everything
there in perfect security, his mind occupied in thinking of the various
essential articles which had to be taken out on successive trips, and
eagerly looking forward to the time when he should take up his abode
there.

At length, everything was ready, and he determined to try the
experiment during the next voyage to Moulmein. His men, with the
customary politeness of natives in respect of the actions of any
European, forbore from questioning his intentions, which they may have
guessed to some extent, though certainly not _in toto_.

It only remained to send for his head man, explain the state of affairs
to him, and hand over the care of the ship. That worthy received the
charge without a word of surprise or remonstrance; and, although he
knew that he was about to commit a rash act, and would have given
worlds to retract, he now felt that having shared his plans with a
subordinate, he must go through with them at any cost.

It was his last night on board. He tossed about in his cabin, picturing
to himself all manner of evils and unknown dangers, till thoughts
became dreams, and he enjoyed a troubled sleep.

Next morning, however, Aurora’s harbinger dispelled his gloomy fears;
and he was more firmly wedded to his purpose than ever.

There was a good deal of whispering among the men, until one of them,
acting as spokesman, endeavoured with native eloquence to dissuade
him from his ill-advised purpose; but he threw away this last golden
opportunity of retiring gracefully from a most awkward position, and
was duly landed with a gun and some ammunition, together with such
creature comforts as the occasion demanded.

After carrying the things up to the hut, the men salaam’d and returned
to the ship, which soon sailed out of sight.

Then for the first time did he realize the significance of the word
“solitude”: the very voice of nature seemed hushed, and an unearthly
silence pervaded the entire scene. Returning to the hut, he lit a lamp
and sank into an easy-chair with his gun close at hand. Here he slept
for some time, being visited by the most fanciful dreams, and was at
length startled into consciousness by the falling of his shot-belt.

When he awoke, his usual supper hour was long past; but unable to eat
anything, he uncorked a bottle of beer, and the noise seemed terrific
in the midst of that deathlike silence—everything frightened him, the
cry of a bird, the moaning of a larger wave than usual on the shore.

Next morning he busied himself about the hut, and tried fishing; but
he could not settle down to any occupation. Above all, he dreaded
the lonely evening and the wakeful night. He had food in variety and
abundance, but the desire to eat was in abeyance. Another night of
nervous anxiety: he kept his door securely fastened, although he knew
that nothing was there to enter, even had it been left wide open.

His fears now took the form of savages visiting the island to feast,
perchance, on prisoners captured in some recent encounter.

On the third night, he managed to fortify the hut in some measure;
loaded both his guns, and saw to his revolver, which lay under his
pillow, and which he grasped many times during the night, as his
disordered imagination conjured up some visionary danger.

The fourth day, he awoke with the same ideas uppermost in his mind,
opened the door of his hut cautiously and stole out on to the shore.

In vain he looked all ways for a sail, half expecting to see a canoe
full of savages down by the beach. Standing on a lofty ledge of rock
and looking down into the clear, deep water, he watched the fish
darting to and fro; and a horrible propensity to throw himself in and
end his troubles in the bowels of a shark rushed upon him. It was but
ephemeral; yet he turned his back on the sea, for fear lest it should
grow upon him.

The desire often came upon him to shout; but weighed down by the
silence of his surroundings, he dared not even speak aloud.

But the consciousness of self-control in having resisted that fearful
temptation had a good effect upon him, for he soon entered on a more
peaceful and contented frame of mind.

One day, he bethought him of another attempt at fishing, and he managed
with a couple of handlines to catch numbers of the unsuspecting fish,
when suddenly he saw the back fin of a shark. Either the shock caused
by this unwelcome sight, or a tug more violent than usual caused him
to lose his footing on the slippery rock, and he fell into the water.
Strange coincidence! to have almost succumbed by accident to the fate
he had nearly courted by design! Half a dozen strokes placed him out of
danger; and when he looked round there was the shark darting about in
the very place, attracted no doubt by the commotion. Never again would
he try fishing on that island.

He returned to the hut and changed his wet clothes; and on revisiting
the spot the same afternoon, found several sharks there, all seeking
the cause of the splash, hoping against hope that their diligence might
be rewarded.

His attention was next directed to that interesting amphibian that
visited the shore at this season for the purpose of depositing its eggs
in the sand—the turtle.

He turned one and despatched it for the table; then following
its footprints away from the sea, he came upon its eggs, pretty,
waxy-looking specimens, and very good eating when properly baked. The
turtle found in these parts doubtless belonged to the ordinary edible
species, the _Chelonia virgata_; a variety lacking the green fat found
in those peculiar to the West Indies, and therefore beneath the notice
of an alderman.

At last, after many days of watching and weariness, during which he was
utterly weakened in body and mind, this voluntary Crusoe espied a sail
on the far horizon over towards Moulmein. Nearer and nearer it came,
until he lit a huge bonfire of dry leaves and fired off several charges
from his gun.

All this was unnecessary, for it was his own ship coming back for him.
The joy of the meeting between master and men was mutual. It seemed
ages since he had heard the sound of a human voice; and, surrounded by
his trustworthy Lascars, he made his first hearty meal under that roof.

And the last; for after a stroll round the island, during which he
showed the men the rock from which he had fallen, they carried the
chattels back to the ship and quitted the island for good and all.

His men—faithful souls—unable to bear the suspense any longer, had
turned back for him, at the risk of incurring his displeasure, before
they had got half way to Moulmein.

Such was the burden of his narrative, which occupied nearly two hours,
so that it was late ere we turned in. Sounds issuing from the captain’s
cabin proved unmistakably that he was in the Land of Nod; and I soon
joined in the melody, dreaming all manner of things connected with an
island, a kind of “dream within a dream.”

The captain asked me next morning what had kept us conversing up to so
late an hour of the night, so that I shrewdly suspect the hum of our
voices disturbed the first part of his rest.

I had, however, promised my fellow-passenger not to make any further
allusion to the subject of his story within his hearing, so the captain
had to be content with a promise that I would entertain him therewith
as soon as Mr. —— had left the ship.

CHAPTER XIX.

MERGUI.

     “It gives me wonder, great as my content,
     To see you here before me.”

     “Whether we shall meet again, I know not,
     Therefore our everlasting farewell take!”

The anchorage off Mergui is guarded by an almost perpendicular rock,
which in our case necessitated steering a point to starboard. Although
destitute of even a blade of grass, this rock is extremely valuable on
account of a certain species of swallow, thousands of which nest there
year after year, their dwellings being the much prized edible nests,
in such great demand among Chinese epicures, as a stock for their
soups. They resemble those of our own species, though a trifle more
elongated; and are composed of a peculiar kind of gelatinous seaweed,
very palatable when boiled with the addition of a little mixed spice.

When the young ones are fledged, the nests are separated from the rock,
to which they were attached by a secretion peculiar to the bird.

Soup flavoured with these nests is to the Chinese gourmand what green
turtle is to the alderman. Both are expensive; I never had the courage
to ascertain the price of _real_ turtle, but I know that the nests
fetch as much as £7 per pound, or, as each weighs about half an ounce,
nearly 5s. apiece.

And thus it comes about that this otherwise valueless rock rents for
one thousand rupees per annum; and a junk annually sails for China with
its precious freight.

We had to keep clear of the rock, so that I had on that occasion no
chance of examining the birds individually. They are little more than
four inches in length, while their expanse of wing is nearly three
times as much; on the back they are dark brown, which passes to lighter
shades underneath. In ornithological parlance they have been christened
_Collocatia Esculenta_. The fact that they are not scared away from
the place by the men and boys employed in appropriating their nests, is
presumably due to the abstinence of the natives in holding their hand
until the young are on the wing.

Not long after passing the rock, we anchored opposite the military
station of Mergui, now all alive with excitement. The smoke of the
steamer had been seen from afar, and the residents were aware that it
brought news—good to some, bad to others—from the dear ones at home.

The scene, as we let go the anchor, was striking in the extreme, and
transferred to canvas would have found favour in the eyes of the most
critical scenic painter of the modern school. In the foreground, the
afore-mentioned rock, rising sheer out of the cerulean blue, that sent
back the rays of an almost perpendicular sun, while a large opening
through the rock resembled an irregular archway. The station of Mergui
on elevated ground close to the sea, and backed by a primeval forest,
was on the left; while to the right, the emerald isles dotted the sea
southward.

Although we arrived somewhat early in the afternoon, certain
adventurous spirits came off at once, protected with pith hats and
Burmese umbrellas, and were on deck as soon as the anchor held and the
gangway had been lowered.

Very different from their apathetic brother officers at Tavoy, they
came off in quick succession; the captain was besieged, and bore
the ordeal bravely as usual, with a kind word for everyone, though
discriminating withal. They buzzed round him like bees, after the
manner of mankind in general, where the nectar is mostly stored, though
thirsting in this case for news.

Withdrawing from the group, I looked over the stern into the blue
water, which was clear as crystal, and saw hundreds of fish gathering
about the keel, darting hither and thither, and glistening with all
the colours of the rainbow as the rays of light fell upon them at
different angles. The smaller ones would get out of the way of the
larger; _seniores priores_ is the rule among the inhabitants of the
deep. Absorbed in the contemplation of these creatures, that have ever
interested me above all others, and wondering at the productiveness of
these warm seas, and at the survival of a species always at war with
each other, I did not at first notice that the captain was speaking to
me.

He wanted to introduce me to one of the residents, whose name and
face were equally familiar to me, and who turned out to be an old
fellow-student, who had joined the Madras army and had been shunted
with part of his regiment to this out-of-the-way place.

Considering that those were the halcyon days ere locomotion had carried
the now ubiquitous British tourist to every nook and corner of the
habitable globe, it was indeed a strange coincidence to encounter an
old friend in the neighbourhood of the Mergui Archipelago, which not
one out of a thousand at home had ever heard of; or if they had, the
name had described that overland route across the brain, which is not
uncommonly followed by the subjects taught at school.

Nowadays, of course, progress is setting its stamp upon all _five_
quarters of the globe; the beautiful names of Jones, Brown, Smith or
“Arry” may be seen carved on the Pyramids of Egypt; on the costly
marble of the Taj at Agra; on the Pagoda at Rangoon; and will ere
long doubtless ornament the giant trees in “Darkest Africa,” to the
astonishment of the Pigmies!

“_Cœlum non animum mutant_, etc...,” and whether in his own beloved
Epping Forest, or in a tropical jungle, he will ferret out nature’s
gems and destroy them; and in both places the course of his
peregrinations may be traced by empty beer bottles and greasy sandwich
papers.

The proprietor of an estate on the Dorset coast, which was laid out
for the convenience of the public, went so far as to supply printed
quotations from various authors, and a special tablet for the names of
visitors, but the latter remained black, while the rocks around were
deeply scored in every conceivable direction. Such conduct can only
be accounted for on the Darwinian theory, for the bump of mischief is
unquestionably more developed in the apes than in any other animal.

I invariably pencil under such names “sentenced for felony to penal
servitude for life!” or some equally agreeable sentence, which may,
or may not, have the desired effect. I was likewise struck when
visiting Stratford-on-Avon, and _the_ house there many years ago, by
the custodian requesting that we should not write our names, or even
initials, anywhere about the room in which the poet for all time is
said to have first seen the light.

The injunction was doubly superfluous; in the first place, my friends
and self were not in the habit of publishing ourselves in this most
objectionable manner; and secondly, even if so minded, we could not
have found a clear space for any one of our names!

Any encounter with a face not seen for many years, is sure to touch the
spring of recollection and set in motion the machinery of the past.
Pacing the deck, we wandered once more over the well-trodden road of
the past, recalling notable episodes, and conjecturing where sundry of
our fellow-students might even then be fighting the battle of life.

Just as we had arrived at the conclusion, not uncommonly held by young
men in respect of themselves, that nothing on earth was good enough for
us, we were joined by the captain, who held in his hand an invitation
for himself and me to dine and sleep ashore.

We accepted the invitation and entrusted the missive to my friend.

Rather nervous as to the limited state of my wardrobe, and hoping that
our entertainers would be the reverse of hypercritical, I went ashore
at the appointed time in the captain’s gig, and we found a considerable
party of ladies and gentlemen already assembled to meet us. The dinner
had evidently been got up in the captain’s honour, and it was on a
par with his usual thoughtfulness to get his guest included in his own
invitation.

To the relief of all parties, the ceremony of introductions was duly
accomplished, and we adjourned to dinner, the same ordeal as elsewhere,
but reflecting in this instance unbounded credit on their Madrassee
cook. It was undeniably a very pleasant evening, one of the most
sociable I can look back upon. Many of their faces I can see before me
still, the names, alas! have become effaced.

One of the topics of conversation was the variety and profusion of
orchids in the primeval forest close at hand; and, particularly struck
by the apathy with which everyone seemed to mention these choicest of
Nature’s gems, I inwardly resolved to be off to the forest early next
morning and bring back a load of the rarest kinds I could lay hands on.

Waking at an early hour, I partook of some tea and toast, and sallied
forth with my gun, which I had brought ashore, and—the wherewith to
indulge in a smoke, if so inclined.

The station was composed of a few bungalows built on rising ground
along the sea front; behind which intervened a strip of cultivated
land, and then one arrived at the edge of the mighty forest. The
dividing belt of open ground having been under rice, was now dry and
hard; and I consequently traversed it in a few minutes.

As in the affairs of life generally, my eagerness in this instance to
secure the coveted orchids had entirely warped my judgment; otherwise
I should have taken counsel with those proficient in local topography,
and should have brought with me a couple of Burmese with hatchets and
bamboo ladders.

Walking was easy enough owing to the total absence of undergrowth, and
fairly pleasant on the springy bed of leaves, which had accumulated
there for untold ages; while overhead the impenetrable lacework
of massive branches completely shut out the sun, leaving almost
indescribable gloom and darkness all around me. On looking up, I could
see huge branches literally covered with the unrivalled parasites,
their colours exceedingly varied and delicate, and their leaves greener
and more spotless than I had ever yet seen.

There was, however, one grave fault to be found with all of them—they
were far beyond my reach! It was horribly tantalizing; but hoping to
find others at a lower elevation, I plunged deeper into the forest
and—lost my way.

I came to the conclusion that I might fare worse if I went any further,
so I turned back.

I have already lost my way once in these pages, so I shall find it
again now as quickly as possible.

Nevertheless, my wanderings to that end were far from pleasant. I
deeply regretted not having told even the “bearer” whither I was
going. The place began to have a terrible fascination for me; on that
soft carpet, I reflected that any uncouth beast might creep upon me
unawares; while I began to scan the branches now, not for orchids,
but for pythons, which I almost fancied I could see, hanging down and
surveying me with their hard, lustreless eyes.

Nay, I refrained from firing a shot, by way of signal to a possible
search-party, from fear of awakening such monsters from their normal
state of lethargy.

At last, after about five hours’ wandering, I emerged into a sun, which
at first almost blinded me.

My absence was beginning to cause some anxiety at the house where I was
staying; and at breakfast, which had been put off on my account, I had
to make a clean breast of everything.

I was reminded by my hostess, that, besides the necessity of taking
natives on such an expedition, it would also have been more prudent to
have taken a few grains of quinine—of which I now swallowed five, at
her express solicitation—before setting foot in a place known to be
deadly, owing to pent-up malaria. And this was why the orchids were
left to waste their beauties on the forest air and blush unseen!

I saw but little of the native stockade, which, if my memory serves me
right, stood on a kind of delta, some way from the European quarters.
The inhabitants led a peaceful existence; the sea supplied them with
quantities of fish, which were dried for export; the land with timber
and “tuskers,” the latter very valuable for their ivory. Pearls too
were by no means rare, though not fished under any organized system.

Some of the islands further south are, I believe, several thousand feet
in height and extremely volcanic; but I had to refuse the only offer
to see them that was ever made to me. A few hours after our arrival,
another and larger steamer put in an appearance _en route_ to the
Andamans.

I was offered a passage; a tempting proposition, but which had to be
declined.

Besides being averse to leaving my host so abruptly, in short, making a
convenience of him, I had to consider the scanty state of my wardrobe—I
had left nearly everything at Moulmein, and the still lower ebb of
my funds. Pay was very small in those days, while the bulk of what I
received had to be remitted home forthwith. Fortunately the rate of
exchange was then about par; what my position would have been under the
present abnormally low rate, I tremble to think.

Having been thoroughly cleared out by the Mutiny, I found myself
severely handicapped by having to support a wife and child at home.

Some folks, dazzled by the brilliant prospects of the Indian Service,
refuse to see the reverse side of the medal; but they should take
into consideration the fact that on retirement with, say a colonel’s
pension of 365_l._, 60_l._ is deducted towards the Widows’ and Orphan’s
Pensions Fund, the same amount as he has paid for years from his full
pay.

The accounts are never published, never go beyond the sacred precincts
of the India Office, so we must take it on trust, that the funds could
not be maintained in any other way. The calculation of what an officer
has paid at this rate for forty years, with donations, interest, etc.,
would make the mouth of many an insurance agent water!

For the reasons already mentioned, I elected to return by the way
I had come, and had no reason to regret doing so. What if I did not
see the Andaman Islands! they were places of little or no interest.
A curse seemed to have rested on them. To begin with, their original
inhabitants were few and far between; wretched specimens of humanity,
at least morally and intellectually, if not physically; differing
from anything I had been accustomed to—Cannibals! Upon this promising
soil we then grafted the noblest types of the scum of India—mutineers,
murderers and Dacoits. That is to say, we focused on one spot all that
was worse than cannibalism, there to dream of vengeance, and pass the
remainder of their lives feeding on their dire hatred of mankind in
general, and every other passion likely to convert them into incarnate
devils, ten times worse than they had been before. Many were sent there
because they attempted to recover their country from the iron rule of
the usurper; others, because they acted up to the teachings of their
childhood.

Could we but form an idea of the evil passions which surged up in the
bosoms of those Asiatics torn by force from their own land, I believe
that even Dante’s immortal conception of the Inferno would pale its
ineffectual fire before that seething cauldron of pent-up human rage.
Before the advent of these horrors, the islands, even if we throw
cannibalism into the balance, must have been infinitely better than our
convict system has since made them.

That such a distinct race of people should have been confined to these
islands, part of the same chain as included the Nicobars, Sumatra and
Java, was also passing strange. The researches of Prichard and Latham
point to the origin of the various human types from a single pair, the
differences being due to the influence of climate, food and a variety
of other circumstances; and if this was the case, the divergence of the
Andamanese from Malay characteristics, considering their geographical
proximity, is still more unaccountable. But other ethnologists—Camper
of the Dutch school, the originator of the _facial angle_ test of
intelligence; Blumenbach of the vertical system; and Morton of American
fame—incline to the belief in separate origins and subsequent fusion by
intercommunication.

Science has yet much to account for in this direction.

Such a late breakfast brought the time of departure very near, as
the captain was anxious to leave as early as possible that afternoon.
As it was, he had to account for several hours’ delay, and would be
taken to task for any such unnecessarily indulged in. We therefore
took leave of our hospitable entertainers, and commenced the return
voyage to Moulmein, with no other passenger on board than myself. He
soon reminded me of my promise regarding the merchant’s experience on
the island, and I gratified his curiosity, narrating the facts much
as they have been here set forth. Moulmein was “made” in due time;
and I was heartily sorry to bid farewell to the captain, who had to
proceed straight to Calcutta, whereas my steamer would follow in the
wake of the _Pluto_ ten days later. I was glad of the respite, being
moreover in no hurry to change the clear, bright Salween for the muddy,
depressing Hooghly, with its defunct Hindoos and carrion fowl.

Before leaving Moulmein, I consulted with my friend as to some suitable
way of tendering my thanks to the captain for all the kindness and
hospitality I had received at his hands; and a plan was devised
and carried out on my return to India. This, while insignificant in
intrinsic value, served as a slight _souvenir_ of the time when he
had done all in his power to render the voyage as comfortable and
interesting as possible, and to wean me from brooding over the recent
Cimmerian period of the Mutiny. For some time we corresponded. If he
still lives, may we meet again on this side of the border!

CHAPTER XX.

AND LAST.

     “My pen is at the bottom of a page,
     Which being finished, here the story ends
     ’Tis to be wished it had been sooner done,
     But stories somehow lengthen when begun.”

The reader may mentally alter the title of this concluding chapter
to “_At_ Last!” and if he has found my reminiscences dull or humdrum,
he will soon have his reward by closing the book and consigning it to
oblivion—or to Mudie’s cart!

Nevertheless, in glancing back over the foregoing pages—a retrospect
of a retrospect—I seem to have fulfilled what I undertook at the
outset—even though that be little.

Digressions there are, I know, “innumerable as the temples in Pagan,”
to borrow an old Burmese proverb; and the bare outline of my story,
stripped of such embellishments, might easily be reduced to the
dimensions of a certain celebrated signboard, which set forth the fame
of one John Thompson.

That worthy man, a hatter by trade, composed it himself as follows:
“_John Thompson, hatter; makes and sells hats for ready money_,”
under which was depicted a large hat. This he submitted to half a
dozen cronies, who modified it as follows. The first thought the word
“hatter” unnecessary, because followed by the words “makes hats.” It
was therefore struck out. The next objected to the word “makes,” as
no one, he argued, would care who made the hats, as long as they were
good. That was also omitted.

A third found fault with the expression “sells,” as no one imagined for
a moment that he gave them away. “Sells,” therefore, followed the fate
of its predecessors. Another took exception at “hats,” in consideration
of the painting underneath. Hats was accordingly obliterated.

The fifth condemned the clause referring to ready money, since that was
the custom of the place; while the sixth and last, vexed beyond measure
at finding nothing left to erase, would have pulled the signboard down
bodily, but for the remonstrances of the others.

To resume the beginning of the end.

The business in teak-wood was now drawing to a close, for ere long the
rains would cease, and there would no longer be any means of floating
the timber down to the coast on the swollen tributaries of the Salween.
Few vessels therefore remained, and the river looked deserted, but for
an unusually large craft painted white, and therefore conspicuous in
more ways than one.

She proved, on inquiry, to be an American vessel of considerable
burden, chartered for the purpose of transporting elephants to Bengal;
and as she was anchored in mid-stream, we went off to watch the process
of embarking the invaluable creatures.

They were brought from the shore one by one on stout rafts, on which
they behaved with the utmost decorum, evidently in blissful ignorance
of their ultimate destination—the ship’s hold. If they thought about
it at all, it was merely a case of transferring them to the opposite
bank of the river, a proceeding frequently indulged in. The raft was
then made fast to the further side of the ship; and some specially
constructed gear was next lowered from a crane on the yard arm, and
the elephant was slung in the broad leather bands attached to massive
chains. Being accustomed to the “howdah” and belly bands, no notice was
taken of this; but as soon as they found themselves hoisted off their
feet and suspended in mid-air, mere words would fail to describe their
puzzled expression.

On first rising, they trumpeted loudly, but as they reached greater
altitudes, all power of uttering even a protest seemed to desert them,
and anything more ludicrous I never beheld.

The tackle had been made very powerful, the average weight of the large
elephants being calculated; but to guard against any possible mishap,
the rafts were removed as soon as the pachyderms were fairly “under
weigh,” so that, had the worst come to the worst, they would only
have fallen into the water and swum ashore. When clear of the ship’s
side, they were swung round until exactly over the main hold, and
then lowered. Sometimes a foot would be planted on the combings; but
a gentle tap from a capstan bar soon removed the impediment, and the
leviathan disappeared below, there to be cabin’d, crib’d, confined, and
ere long tossed about in the Bay of Bengal. I forget the exact number
shipped on this occasion; but believe it was not far short of ninety,
all fine, large animals, very different to anything ever seen in this
country, not excepting the late lamented “Jumbo.”

It was impossible not to think of the pitiable condition of these poor
beasts, should anything like bad weather overtake the ship out at sea:
while the condition of the hold must have been anything but savoury at
the best of times; and indeed the effluvia arising thence during the
process of embarking robbed me of all desire to inspect their quarters.

They were, I believe, arranged in rows, a position in which they could
afford each other some support during the varied movements of the
ship; while they were further helped through the ordeal by their great
stability in circumference of legs and feet, and the long, prehensile
trunks, with which they could hold on to any convenient stanchions.

Indeed, on inquiring soon after our arrival at Calcutta, we learnt that
they had all arrived safely and in good condition, so that they must be
far better sailors than horses. Anything like mutiny in the hold might
have led to serious consequences, considering that each animal was ten
feet high, weighed about five tons, and possessed strength centred,
according to Cuvier, in 40,000 muscles with a distinct or combined
action, according to circumstances! Well, a panic ensuing among these
monsters in the hold, numbering from fifty to ninety, would have been
a scene of indescribable terror, besides probably occasioning the
foundering of the ship and the loss of something between 12,000_l._
and 22,000_l._ in cargo alone, the average commercial value of such
elephants being 250_l._ apiece.

When that widespread epidemic of elephant-mania broke out in England
some years ago on account of “Jumbo,” who does not remember the
sickening details of the ridiculous offerings at his shrine, and the
no less idiotic fuss made over the paraphernalia for removing one such
animal a few miles by land! Why, his “mahout” would have ridden him
from the Zoo to the Docks in an hour at dead of night, and then walked
him on board! Such things are managed differently in the East.

The process of embarking the elephants had such a fascination for me,
that I should, if alone, in all probability have remained on board for
the rest of the day. My friend, however, felt the pangs of hunger and
insisted on returning. Dear old fellow! after nearly completing his
career in India, without even the semblance of illness, he slipped from
some vehicle and thereby contracted a troublesome malady which soon
carried him off. He was a good husband, father, friend and doctor,
regretted by all who knew him: and I have many a time stood by his
grave near Cheltenham and thought of the pleasant times we had spent
together in far-off climes, this trip in particular.

The distance intervening between Moulmein and the sea had already
displayed to our admiring gaze some of the beauties of the well-wooded
banks of the Salween; but an excellent opportunity now presented itself
for exploring further up.

The Commissioner being about to start an inspection duty in his steam
yacht, and very sensibly preferring company to solitude, organized a
picnic party, in which I had the honour to be included. The affair was
to be a kind of picnic by land and water, affording time to land at
various places, with the performance of certain official duties, thus
combining business with pleasure.

The commissariat devolved on the chief’s wife, and, with the
assistance of a native cook, certainly acquitted herself admirably—such
mulligatawny, and such salads! The scene on either side, as the river
gradually narrowed, was very beautiful. From the wooded heights in the
background, a bright pagoda peeped out here and there among vegetation
more profuse and luxuriant than any I had ever seen since my journey on
the Pegu river.

We visited several of the villages, which were very neat and built, as
usual, on piles; but we soon discovered that distance lent enchantment
to the view, and that a closer acquaintance brought us in contact with
a formidable amalgamation of odours, not of the eau-de-Cologne order,
a _mélange_ of Jack-fruit, mango, and that curious native delicacy, to
which I alluded in a former chapter, and which consists for the most
part of fish not remarkable for its freshness!

While their houses were canopied with the thickest of foliage, the
space around was kept clear of anything like undergrowth. Only a
few bamboos were allowed to grow in each clump, about which a man
could thread his way with ease. The survivors were consequently of
large size—the largest I ever came across—the specimens cut for us as
_souvenirs_ measuring nine inches in diameter. Three joints of such a
one I took back to Calcutta, one of which I had prettily carved for a
present, while the others served as wine-coolers. The price asked by
the natives for a bamboo sixty or seventy feet in length, including the
cost of cutting up, was not exorbitant, amounting to about four annas,
or sixpence. The dexterity with which it was levelled and cut up was
almost unequalled, reminding one—ghastly reminiscence!—of the manner in
which a Ghoorka handled his _kookerie_, when cutting off the heads of
his prisoners. I once witnessed thirty severed in a row; and there was
no keeping the bloodthirsty little demons from so disposing of their
captives.

The Jack-fruit and plantain both revelled in that fertile soil,
attaining to a large size; but as for the mango—oh, what a falling
off was there! not off the trees, but in point of size and flavour.
The ubiquitous crow of course abounded; paroquets flew away uttering
discordant shrieks; and squirrels gambolled from bough to bough,
running up and down the stems spiral wise.

Extremely picturesque were the costumes of the men and women squatting
about in front of their dwellings, and especially the artistic way in
which the latter coiled their jet-black hair and embellished it with
flowers of a waxy appearance.

It certainly occurred to me that here, of all places on earth, the
inhabitants ought to be happy and contented; nature had lavished her
choicest gifts on them in such profusion, leaving them but little in
the way of arduous occupation. Perhaps they were happy; they certainly
seemed so, for all were well dressed, and I do not remember seeing
a single beggar. And, from a knowledge of both, I should say that
such simple villagers have a much better chance of present and future
happiness than the inhabitants of some of our own villages, where for
the most part the Christian virtues seem conspicuous by their absence.

Living in one for seven years in a private capacity, my services, in
virtue of my profession, were nevertheless very frequently asked for
and given, and I consequently saw a great deal of their inner life,
which often startled and shocked me.

With all respect to General Booth, “Darkest England” exists in the
rural districts, and not in London, where are centred the wealth,
enterprise, benevolence and clerical power of the land. The country,
on the other hand, remains in the shadow of death; and there stands the
vineyard that requires labourers, who work to please their Master, and
not merely for the loaves and fishes!

The party consisted of three or four married couples, a young unmarried
lady and myself, a grass-widower of some eighteen months’ standing.
Naturally, we two were thrown together during the day, and just as
naturally we were accused of flirting. It was therefore with extreme
concern that I attended to my torch, remembering my mishap in the
same neighbourhood on a former occasion, as we presently explored some
very pretty caves, which, for a reason which geologists may be able to
explain, especially abound on the right bank.

This time, I reflected I was not alone, and if my torch were to go out,
of course no one would believe that it was the result of accident. So
at least I concluded, mindful of the proverbial charity that folks at
large indulge in when criticizing their neighbours’ proceedings.

After lunch on the yacht, temptingly laid out and thoroughly
appreciated, the boat’s head was turned, and we quietly steamed down
to Moulmein. The day was full of interest from start to finish, and
everyone thoroughly enjoyed it.

Something of the old schoolboy sensation, when his fleeting holidays
are drawing to a close, stole over me as our steamer turned up a few
days later to convey us back to a land associated with so many painful
memories. Before the Mutiny, I could count my friends by scores; now
most of them had perished, slaughtered with few exceptions by their own
men in whom they reposed such blind and ill-requited confidence. Many
of the old landmarks of the service were also to be swept away, and new
ones set up in their place.

The prospect was uninviting to a degree; but as I could not afford
to cut the painter for good and all, I had to make the best of a bad
bargain. At any rate, we were, under our old masters, content and
happy, and should have been prosperous as well, but for an event, for
which those at home were more to blame than the people on the spot.

What were the chances of improvement now, with more home interference
on the part of those who knew not the East? Time alone could show!
I had certainly enjoyed myself, and in some measure my Burmese trip
had done me good; but now the reaction was setting in, and I began to
question whether it would not have been better after all to have stayed
on the spot and lived down the disagreeables. Hard work is without a
doubt the best panacea for all manner of troubles; and not, as so many
aver, an unceasing round of pleasure and fictitious excitement.

My feelings had partaken very much of the same character as those of
a party of young children I once upon a time escorted to their first
seaside holiday, and then brought back after a month’s enjoyment of
the indescribable delights which any of our watering places afford such
juveniles. Going, they were all sunshine and excitement, never ceasing
to prattle about their coming excursions and amusements, and even
setting the other occupants of the carriage in a roar of laughter by
their ingenuous attempts to pronounce the dreadful Welsh names of the
stations through which we passed.

Very different was the return journey; all was dark without and sad
within; hardly a word spoken from beginning to end; stations unnoticed
and uncared for, and even the “goodies” eaten in silence.

And I felt sad too at the prospect of returning to India. For a time,
I was diverted by the fatiguing process of packing; though it was
only by the aid of a zealous and painstaking domestic, who ignored the
mosquitoes and the exertion, that I finally succeeded in stowing away
all the vases, teapots, cups and saucers, heathen gods and goddesses,
bamboos, etc., regretting the while that I had ever been prevailed upon
to buy them. I was therefore not sorry at having failed to secure a
couple of Pegu ponies for transmission to India. Their price alone—Rs.
300 for an animal that formerly cost one-tenth of that price—placed
me out of the ring; and the trouble and expenses attendant on the
transport of live stock must have been considerable. As a speculation,
it might have answered; but whatever gifts Nature may have lavished
broadcast upon me, the bump of “barter” was only developed in a very
rudimentary state. After packing came the still more painful operation
of leave-taking, and we were soon steaming down the river for the last
time. Several handkerchiefs waving from a verandah grew less distinct,
until a bend in the stream hid them from view.

We were taken back by the same adventurous, independent captain, a
buoyant person of the Mark Tapley order, who gave us one more proof
of his undeniable force of will. We had reached the Sand Heads, about
a hundred and twenty miles from Calcutta, when a dispute arose as to
whether we should be up in time to land that evening. Two circumstances
militated strongly against us, the strength of the outward current and
the rule that forbade any navigation after sunset among the shipping
that lay off the town. But the captain swore he would be ashore in
time to dine with his wife; and he kept his word. The wheels revolved
faster, the wave of cleavage rose higher; and the inquiries of the
engineer were ever met with “Give her as much more as you can!” As the
daylight began to ebb, the smell of fire was distinctly perceptible,
and smoke was issuing from various chinks. A number of Lascars too
might be seen emptying buckets over the deck. Still the captain kept
his course; and at last, the observed of all observers, we passed the
shipping and reached our moorings, and were at rest.

I took a boat and went ashore, and——Chaos came again!

FINIS.

INDEX.

     A.

     Aden harbour, 222.

     Akyab, 192.

     Albatross, Catching an, 17.

     Albacore, 27.

     Alligators, 112, 164.

     Amherst, 214.

     _Amherstia nobilis_, 205.

     Amsterdam, 32.

     Amusements, Burmese, 52.

     Andaman Islands, 249.

     Architecture, Burmese, 57, 65, 202.

     Argonauts, 18.

     B.

     Bamboo, 47, 65, 164, 257.

     Banana, 48, 170.

     Bandicoot, 42.

     Barrackpore, 44.

     Bats, 211.

     Beri-beri, 107.

     Birds’ Nests, Edible, 241.

     Birds, 56, 63, 94, 99, 133.

     Bonito, Catching, 16.

     Brahmans, 73.

     Buddha, 69.

     Burmah, Fertility of, 47.

     Burmese Character, 49.

     C.

     Calcutta, 36.

     Camel, 172.

     Camper, 250.

     Cape Route, 24.

     Caste, 78.

     Caves, 209, 259.

     _Chelonia virgata_, 239.

     Children educated at home, 184.

     China Bazaar, 42.

     Chinese, 59, 71, 114, 202.

     Chivalry, 176.

     Cholera, 65, 181, 194.

     Climate, Effects of, 40.

     Cock-fighting, 52.

     _Collocatia esculenta_, 242.

     Cookery, Native, 90, 102, 121.

     Cow-itch, 166.

     Cremation, 58.

     Custard, Apple, 48, 126.

     D.

     Dancing, 22, 44.

     _Dracunculus_, 103.

     Duck-shooting, 135.

     Durian, 48.

     E.

     Education, 181, 229.

     Egyptians, 72.

     “El Dorado,” 161.

     Elephants, 167, 207, 253.

     Embalming, 58, 72.

     Emigrants, 29.

     Exhibition of 1851, 19.

     Expedition, A secret, 137.

     F.

     Fire, 25, 65.

     Fish and fishing, 13, 164, 215, 222, 243.

     Flying-bugs, 103.

     Flying-fish, 17.

     Football, Burmese, 54.

     Funeral, A Chinese, 203.

     G.

     Gambling, 52.

     Gautama, 50, 69, 71.

     Germicides, 107.

     _Golail_, 105.

     Govilon, 164.

     _Gua-pu_, 60.

     Gulf-Stream, 25.

     _Gynee_-Clubs, 199.

     H.

     High pressure, Modern, 229.

     Hinduism, 72.

     Holy-stoning, 11.

     Hooghly, 33.

     Huc, Travels of M., 203.

     I.

     Images, 58, 70.

     Incas, 74.

     Intermittent fever, 176.

     ——— ——— causes of, 178.

     ——— ——— hypodermic treatment of, 180.

     Irrigation, Native, 161.

     J.

     Jack-fruit, 48, 205.

     Jackal, 44, 64, 100.

     Jungle-fowl, 52, 165.

     K.

     Kalong, 49.

     _Kookerie_, 257.

     Koran, 75, 83.

     Kyouk-Phyao, 193.

     L.

     Latham, 250.

     Line, Crossing the, 13.

     Looting, 56, 58.

     M.

     Mackerel fishing, 16.

     Madeira, 9.

     Mango, 257.

     Mangrove, 227.

     Matrimony, 22, 45, 51.

     Medicine, Native, 166.

     Mediterranean, 16, 18, 20.

     Mendoon, 174.

     Mergui, 241.

     Missionaries, 78, 83.

     Mohammed, 75.

     Monkeys, 93.

     Monsoon, 67.

     Morality, Native, 51.

     Morton, 250.

     Mosquitoes, 89, 100.

     Moulmein, 201.

     _Mucuna pruens_, 166.

     Mud fish, 68.

     Mudar, 107.

     Music, 22, 62.

     Mutiny, 29, 82, 96, 110, 117, 130.

     N.

     Nautili, 18.

     Navigation, Art of, 24.

     Nepaulese, 82.

     Nirvana, 69, 76, 83.

     O.

     Octopus, 151.

     Opium _v._ Alcohol, 186, 208.

     Orchids, 151, 246.

     P.

     Pagodas, 55, 96.

     Panglang Creek, 89.

     Pariah dogs, 99, 105.

     Peacocks, 64.

     Pegu, 95.

     Petrified trees, 168.

     Phayre, Sir A., 61, 160.

     Plantain, 48, 170.

     _Poinsiana regia_, 205.

     Pongyees, 57.

     Pongyee houses, 97, 116, 123.

     Ponies, Pegu, 53, 261.

     _Pooay, A_, 54.

     Porpoises, 15.

     Post-mortem examinations, 81.

     Prichard, 250.

     Prome, 123.

     Pythagoras, 72.

     R.

     Rangoon, 46, 66.

     Rats, 42.

     Religion, 58, 69 _et seq._

     Rice, 170.

     Riding, 53.

     Robinson Crusoe, A modern, 234.

     S.

     St. Helena, 10, 16.

     Salween river, 196.

     “Scandal Point,” 193.

     Sea-sickness, 5.

     Sea Voyages, Benefit of, 181.

     Shark, 13, 219.

     “Shingles,” 201.

     Shipbuilding, 207.

     Smells, 41, 60.

     Snakes, 130, 135, 223.

     Steamer, The first Cape, 30.

     Stockades, 46, 59, 163, 248.

     Stormy Petrel, 27.

     Suttee, 82.

     T.

     Tamarind, 231.

     Tavoy, 224.

     Teak, 197.

     ——, Ruthless exhaustion of, 146, 206.

     Temples, 57.

     Theyetmyo, 116.

     Three, Significance of the numeral, 76.

     Thuggee, 82.

     Tigers, 64, 104, 153.

     Tobacco, 169.

     Trade winds, 24.

     Transmigration, 72.

     Travel, Modern, 2, 12, 15.

     Tunbridge Wells, 212.

     Turtle, 239, 241.

     V.

     Vitality, Instances of dormant, 67.

     Vocabulary, Anglo-India, 39.

     Vultures, 56.

     W.

     Waterspout, 21.

     Whale, 20.

     Whirlwind, 21.

     LONDON:

     PRINTED BY GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LIMITED,
     ST. JOHN’S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL ROAD.

Transcriber’s note:

  Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have
  been preserved.

  Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.