If my memory serves me right, we reached Rangoon the same evening, and were transferred to a river-steamer and flat, the latter being a cargo-boat. I beheld the old stockade, and some of the familiar faces, for the last time.
When I next landed there, eighteen months afterwards, not a vestige remained; the whole place having been transformed to suit the European style of living. The only episode that remains to recall this landing to my mind was, strangely enough, my being introduced to a European lady. I had long concluded that all Europeans were of my own sex, so that on the occasion of this rencontre I was as bashful and tongue-tied as a youth in love. Since then, when I have been more constantly thrown into their society, my tongue has gradually loosened and my blushes have—alas!—grown imperceptible; but all this has not been accomplished in a day, nor without a considerable amount of inward perturbation.
This reintroduction to a specimen of the fairer portion of creation, though of an ephemeral nature, doubtless had a salutary effect on me; but, however much I may have desired to improve our acquaintance, inclination had to succumb to duty, and on the morrow the paddle-wheels were in motion, and the steamer forged ahead, while the flat, attached by a stout hawser, followed merrily in its wake.
Rangoon gradually faded from view; we were ploughing the main artery of the Irrawaddy, and our worthy navigator took a short cut, which may have saved time, but was in the end far from conducive to the comfort of the men.
Sunset came upon us in a creek notorious for its elephantine and ravenous mosquitoes, for when that fiery orb sank in the western sky, the captain had no choice but to anchor.
Navigation of a river required the utmost caution even by day; by night any attempt in that direction would have been foolhardy.
I have already given a faint idea of the sufferings endured by the men the whole of that livelong night. I have already apologized for the tropical temperature of their language, and I shall not dwell any longer on so painful an experience.
Leaving this place of evil reputation the following morning, we once more entered the main stream and pursued the even tenor of our way. Some unusually large alligators were basking in the sun along the muddy banks of the river’s many outlets; and so nearly did their own colour correspond with that of their surroundings, that it was often impossible to distinguish them, until, on being awakened by the thud of the paddle-wheels, they would look up and then crawl or tumble into the water. Now and again, a rifle was brought to bear on them; but the bullets would simply glide off their impenetrable hides, and they crawled leisurely down to the water as soon as they had had enough of such amusement.
Years afterwards, when floating down a river, I shot one that was lying asleep on a sandbank. Beyond once opening its mouth, it never moved; but on landing and approaching cautiously, we discovered that it was quite dead. That shot was, in the mysterious phraseology of sportsmen, a “fluke”!
We soon passed the scene of the disaster that had, only a few months before, caused such a sensation in Burmah and Calcutta, bringing on the devoted heads of certain parties one of Lord Dalhousie’s stinging rebukes.