Part 6

In due time Tom came home, and a very handsome horse he was, large and powerful, with splendid action, and very showy. I had overheard the gentlemen talking together about his having ‘a sullen eye,’ and I immediately flitted off to the stable to see what this sort of eye was like. To my disappointment, Tom’s eyes were just like those of all the other horses. Every morning, Papa used to take Tom out in a sort of light gig, with a groom by his side. I anxiously inquired how Tom had behaved; the answer was always the same, ‘Perfectly well.’ There was nothing I liked so much in those days as going out with my father for a morning drive, and at last, after some weeks of excellent behaviour on Tom’s part, and earnest entreaties on mine, I was allowed to accompany Papa again. Tom went as peacefully as a lamb; he was often tried by having to stop to allow a gate to be opened, but he never minded this check, and went on amiably afterwards, until one unlucky day, when Papa and I were alone. We came to a large white gate—how well I remember it now; I jumped out to open it as quickly as possible, so as not to try Tom’s temper; but running past him to scramble up again to my perch, I saw at once what they meant by a sullen eye. It was a look of sheer rage and obstinacy, such as you would not believe a horse could assume. It did not surprise me to find that Tom made no movement in reply to Papa’s ‘click.’ First of all, kindness and petting were tried; I did what I could to help by coaxing and patting. Tom stood as if he were carved out of wood; then my father beat him; Tom never winced. I remember Papa’s laughing at my suggestion that we were in fairy land, and that a wicked enchanter had turned Tom into stone. It really seemed like it, for time passed and Tom was motionless. The whip was broken, and my father’s arm was tired; still Tom did not stir. At last, when no one was touching him, he gave a sudden bound into the air, all four legs off the ground at once, and fell between the shafts, which snapped short off, sending Papa and poor little me flying into the dusty road. As soon as we had picked ourselves up and found we were not hurt, we went to Tom, who was lying perfectly still, with some blood on the dust by his head. He was quite dead; and after I grew up, and reminded Papa of that adventure, he told me that a veterinary surgeon examined poor Tom’s body, and found that he had burst a large vessel in his heart, from rage or indignation, we don’t know which. I was so sorry for Tom!

I have now told you all the horse-stories which I can remember, and must try to think of something else to amuse you with next time.

_FOUR MONTHS IN CAMP._

I daresay many of my child readers think that it must be delightful to live in a tent. And so it is; for a few years ago I passed four months under canvas, and found them very pleasant, especially as the tent was moved to a fresh place every day. There are so many railroads in India now, that I suppose the marching of troops from one end of the country to the other is given up; but, at the time I write of, there was no other way of transporting them, and a regiment or an army sometimes had to make a journey of one or two thousand miles. We, who live in a little island, can hardly imagine how vast a region is even one Indian province. If you look at the map you will see that all England might be laid down on the plains of Bengal, and leave a margin as large in proportion as your little hand would leave, if laid down on this page.

I shall begin the story of my tent-life from the evening before I joined the camp, a day’s march from Lucknow. First, you must know that I had arrived from England only two weeks before, and consequently knew nothing of the language or the ways of the people. Now I expect you to get the map, and find Lucknow in the north-west province of Oudh; then we can make the journey together,—it will take us right up to the Himalaya mountains, and I hope to be able to amuse you by the way.

We had been staying for three or four days at Lucknow, having travelled thither from Calcutta partly by railway, and partly in a most uncomfortable and jolting carriage, like a very bad cab, in which we slept at night. Glad to think this kind of journeying over, I looked forward eagerly to my first glimpse of the white tents which were to be our home for some time. But before we joined the camp, there was a great deal to be done in the way of buying things, hiring servants, and making various arrangements for our comfort, and you must remember that I knew nothing at all about what was wanted, and had every moment to ask some kind person’s advice, just as you would be obliged to do. The camp which we were ordered to join was composed of five thousand soldiers, who were to take what was called ‘a military promenade’ from one end of Bengal to the other, to see that the country was quiet, the forts in good repair, and the various garrisons doing their duty properly. We marched in great state, for the Commander-in-Chief was with us, and all the heads of departments. There was an immense number of servants and _kelasses_, or men to pitch the tents every day. I have heard that the camp numbered more than ten thousand people, though barely half of them were soldiers; there were only four ladies, including myself!

Fortunately for me, the lady with whom I stayed at Lucknow had made just such a journey only the year before, so she told me exactly what was best to do and to buy, and great fun I thought it making such odd purchases. First there was the cook to be hired: he required several assistants, a little cart drawn by bullocks to carry all his pots and pans, and a wire-gauze safe to keep his provisions in. Poor man! he had no kitchen, and yet he used to send us up capital meals three times a day. All we had to do was to pay his daily bill; everybody took it for granted he cheated us immensely, but still I think it was very clever of him to manage so comfortably. We were allowed a certain number of camels and elephants to carry our tents and baggage, but the odd thing was that we had to buy two sets of everything, even two sets of pretty blue and white cotton carpets; these were made just like the Turkey carpets you probably have often seen, only of cotton instead of wool; they could be easily washed whenever we came to a river, and were besides much cooler and lighter than an ordinary dining-room carpet. Two sets of basket chairs had to be bought, with cushions of picked cotton, and pretty chintz covers to fit them; two sets of beds, of jugs and basins, cups and saucers, plates and dishes; our clothes, brushes, combs, books, &c., all had to be divided into two sets, and packed in two sets of camel trunks. The only things from which we never intended to part were a despatch-box and my travelling-bag; that was given into my ayah’s care, which reminds me that we had to buy a light sort of palanquin for her, and to provide two sets of bearers to carry it.

I, thinking it would be so very hot in India, had left all my winter clothes behind me in England; but I had to buy plenty of flannel and warm stuffs at Lucknow, for everybody assured me the cold would be intense early in the morning and late at night, and so it was. Whilst at dinner in the tent, I often had to send for a thick shawl to wrap myself up in. Among our servants was an excellent _durzie_, or tailor, who made all my clothes and mended everything. Nothing affronted him so much as to even see me sew on a button to my glove; he thought it was a reflection on his industry. He worked very hard during those few days at Lucknow, and got my wardrobe into excellent marching order by the 12th December, the day fixed for our joining the ‘Head-quarters Camp,’ at a place called Byram-Ghât, about thirty miles from Lucknow. We did not start until late at night; all day we were busy superintending the packing and seeing off all our worldly goods. I took especial delight in watching the loading of the camels; they were brought up to the verandah at the back of the house, and there made to kneel down and have their pack-saddle put on. Then came trunks, whose weight was evenly balanced on each side; a charpoy, or light bamboo bedstead, was fastened on the top; upon this sat the camel-driver, guiding his steed by means of a string rein fastened to a little bit of wood stuck through its nose. The camels made a great fuss about their loads; they gurgled and groaned in the most heartrending manner, and I was very sorry for them, until I saw what a bad mother one of them was. She had a dear little baby camel, and she was dreadfully unkind to it, biting and kicking it whenever it came near her. Just as she was going to start, having had a very light load put on her saddle, the camel-driver gently threw the little camel down, tied its legs with an old turban of his own, and finally had it lifted up and laid on the charpoy behind him; so the unkind mother had to carry her child after all, against her will, I daresay.

I must not forget to tell you about the pets, who had a servant all to themselves. There was a beautiful parrot, a small cage full of Java sparrows (who, by the way, are the stupidest little creatures in the world), and another of paroquets from Ceylon. These were sent on with their attendant, but I kept my latest favourite to travel with me. It was a most beautiful thoroughbred Persian cat, as white as snow, with long silky hair instead of short fur; she had also two white knobs hanging down by her jaws, one eye was blue and the other green, all of which characteristics belong to the true Persian breed. She was large and powerful, but as gentle and playful as a kitten. My difficulties with this animal began at once, for no sooner was I packed into the palanquin in which we were to make our journey from Lucknow to the camp, than Miss Pussy discovered some cold pigeon, which my hostess had kindly put on the little shelf inside the palkee (as palanquins are generally called); and when I wanted my early breakfast at six o’clock, the coffee was forthcoming, but neither the bread nor the pigeon was to be found. Pussy did not attempt to deny the robbery when taxed with it, but sat licking her paws with a self-satisfied and contented air. I must explain that Puss only answered to the name of ‘Billy,’ although she was a most elegant young lady; but a word which has something of the same sound is Bengalee for cat, and she had no other name. I think I shall tell you her fate here, so as not to interrupt my story when once we get fairly into camp. She was very good and quiet during the day, and slept contentedly on my lap, or curled herself up like a white heap on my writing-table; but at night she was as bad as a teething baby. Not a wink of sleep would she let me have; mewing, purring, jumping up on my bed to awake me, begging me in the most earnest cat language to let her go outside the tent, and play in the moonlight. I was warned not to allow her to do this, and of course I ought not to have given way; but at the end of a week I was so tired of these disturbances, that I got out of bed, pulled up the fastening peg of the tent-door, or rather curtain, and out poor Billy bounded, with a little cry of joy, into the bright moonlight. I looked after her to watch if she would go far; but her last moment had come. I think I see her now, standing in the soft shining light, with her pretty head well up, her small ears pointed, and lashing her long bushy tail from side to side. Alas! she had no instinct of her coming danger, for in a moment, from the rear of the tent, a small band of wolves dashed forward—I heard a cry, a snarl, some short greedy snaps, and all that was left of my poor Billy was a little tuft of blood-stained fur, or rather hair. She was eaten up in a moment before my eyes. It was all my fault for letting her go out, but she begged so hard!

We shall never get on if I stop by the way to tell you the fate of all my pets, so let us keep steadily to our camp life. Leaving Lucknow, we travelled all night in our palanquins, and, about six o’clock in the morning, I was just beginning to feel dozy, when one of the attendants drew aside the curtains of my palkee and pointed to a large clump of trees, saying something I could not understand; however, I sat eagerly up and saw my movable home looking quiet and peaceful in the early morning. We never see such splendid tents in England; they were all double poled, and arranged so as to form a long and wide street, with the Commander-in-Chief’s tent across the top. The standard was flying in front, with the sentries pacing up and down before it. At the back of the camp were rows of very small tents for the horsekeepers, the cooks, and other outdoor servants: the horses, some four or five in number, were picketed in the rear of their owners’ large tents; behind these again were a swarm of smaller ones for the soldiers, and still further off, among the trees, I could see on one side the camels’ camp, and on the other that of the elephants. All looked orderly and quiet in the early morning, and very different to what I soon discovered was its usual aspect. The camp had halted at this Ghât for a few days, to collect all the stragglers and arrange the order of march.

We soon passed the first row of sentries, then the next, and trotted and jolted up to the entrance of one of the largest tents at the upper end of the street. Amid much chattering and jabbering, and entreaties to each other to be ‘very careful of the lady-sahib,’ my bearers put my palkee down in front of my new home, and I sat up in it, feeling very sleepy, and dusty, and tired, to have my first look at a real tent to live in. I had made up my mind that it would be something like the gipsy encampments one sees on a common in England, and that the life would be a rough and uncomfortable one, but there was nothing of the sort. Our old Khansamah appeared at the entrance as beautifully clean in his snowy robes and turban as if he had just come out of a bandbox, and with many salaams ushered us into a sort of verandah which ran all round the tent, and then into the centre compartment. It looked just like a very spacious and lofty drawing-room. On the sand was spread first the thick striped drugget which matched the linings of the tent, pale buff and blue, and over this our own pretty cotton carpets and rugs. There were tables with gay covers, books, writing materials and vases of flowers, plenty of straw arm-chairs, and a long folding chair which made a very good sofa. What I thought the prettiest of all was a sort of trophy of green boughs arranged round the poles, and another of whips, guns, spurs, and swords. It all looked quite homelike and pretty. On a side table the cloth was laid for the early breakfast, and in a few moments we had some delicious coffee and rusks. At each side of this centre compartment was another room, that on the left hand being fitted up as a very nice bedroom; a portion of the verandah outside it was curtained off for a bath-room, and contained a large india-rubber bath full of fresh water. The division on the right was arranged as a dressing-room (also with a bath-room), and in it was a writing-table on which the important despatch-box was soon placed.

I now understood how necessary was the second set of everything. All was packed and ready to start as soon as the order of march was issued, so we lived in one tent whilst the other was on its road to the next camping-ground. We very soon set out on the march; I will describe the routine of a single day to you, and then you will know exactly how we managed for four months. Every Sunday we halted and had morning service in the Highlanders’ portion of the camp, and, in the afternoon, full service in the Commander-in-Chief’s tent. When we arrived at a large station we rested for three or four days whilst His Excellency inspected the garrison. There were a great many balls and parties given in our honour, but the account of these festivities would not interest you much, so I must go back to the daily camp life.

At half-past four o’clock every morning the bugle sounded. We all got up immediately and dressed as quickly as possible, I in my riding-habit; at five the second bugle blew, and instantly, as if by magic, the walls of the tent fell flat disclosing us drinking our coffee. As soon as possible afterwards we started; it was pitch dark and very cold, so we rode for the first few miles on the back of our baggage-elephant. This used to amuse me very much, though I never quite liked the getting up and down. The elephant I rode was larger than those you see in the Zoological Gardens, but quite as tame. His driver, or ‘mahout,’ sat on the poor beast’s head, and hit him hard with a small battle-axe, or prodded him with the sharp iron point of a spearhead, when he wanted him to go faster. The elephant did not seem to mind this severe correction in the least, so I hope it did not hurt him. He always knelt down for me to mount, and then a ladder was placed against his side, and I scrambled up on the pad which was my only saddle. How it is very difficult to go quickly up a shaky ladder in a long habit, and I was always glad when I found myself safely perched on his back. From this height, as soon as the day began to dawn, I could see the endless line of the procession: not only were there all the soldiers horse and foot, but innumerable camp-followers, with droves of sheep, of cows, of poultry: carts of all sorts and sizes, with ammunition, knapsacks, provisions, the wives and children of the hundreds of servants, the washer-_men_, the water-carriers, and many more than I can remember, all wending their way in silence amid clouds of dust. Every now and then a jingling of bells would herald the swift passing of an orderly mounted on a camel, who was hurrying on with orders, his steed gay with trappings of green and crimson to mark that it belonged to the ‘Camel Corps.’ I used to see regularly every morning on the line of march a very seedy-looking pony about as big as a Newfoundland dog, with a cock perched on its back. Whenever the poor little pony stopped the cock flapped his wings and set up a loud crow; I never could discover that the pony had any other duty to perform except to carry that cock.

As soon as the day dawned, which was not much before six, we began to look out for our horses; they had been sent on, and were awaiting us by the side of a wall or under a tree. We soon mounted and set off as hard as we could gallop so as to get out of the dust. Ten miles of fast cantering brought us to the new camp, and we rode up to the entrance of a tent precisely like the one we had left an hour or two before. There was breakfast ready, and everything looking as if we had lived in the tent for years. The first thing to do was to get rid of the dust, then we had a good breakfast; after that I saw the Khansamah, paid his bill for yesterday, and gave orders for to-morrow. At first I was obliged to have an interpreter whilst arranging my household affairs, but very soon I could get on by myself. Of course I made absurd mistakes; as when I told the poor Khansamah one morning to bring in more _bundles of firewood_ for breakfast! I meant to order eggs, but the words are not in the least alike in Hindoostanee. I never shall forget the poor man’s look of astonishment at my insisting on being obeyed, nor did I discover my mistake till the woodcutters filed into the tent, one after another, each carrying a large faggot which he laid at my feet, and the old Khansamah looked at me, as much as to say, ‘I hope you are satisfied now.’