At Prome, however, there was more by way of encouragement to pedestrians; well worth traversing on foot were the many interesting roads, turning here and bending there; now ascending a greasy hill, anon dipping into a valley, and following up a meandering stream, flanked with stately trees and flowering shrubs.
On all sides, the fly-catchers with their burnished plumage flashing in the sun, while various other birds in gaudy livery flitted from tree to tree; woodpeckers ran round them, tapping here and there with their hammer-shaped bills in quest of hidden treasures, while the agile movements of the squirrel lent additional charm to the scene. One walk was in special favour, leading, as it did, along the banks of the river, and then sweeping inland, enclosing with two others a huge space, in which lay our entire force. Its breadth and culverts were evidence of its military design.
The life in Burmah may have been irksome to many, but none could complain of its expense. What with no house rent, a necessarily curtailed mess, and various subscriptions in abeyance, military tailors realized many an outstanding debt.
Extended credit, and proportionately protective prices had placed purveyor and recipient on the horns of a dilemma, from which this campaign released them.
It must certainly have been an anxious time for the man of business; and as he ran his eye down the list of casualties, one must sympathize with him, as much as is possible in the case of traders that make those who meet their liabilities pay for those who do not. I was young at that time, and had only advanced a few paces on the independent road of life; and the yarns unfolded afforded me an insight into the recesses of human nature.
War, whether waged in a just cause or the reverse, is always a lamentable occurrence, but this campaign afforded another illustration of the adage relating to an “ill wind.” To save money in such a situation reflected no credit on any man, simply because there existed no loophole for extravagance of any kind. It was a case of necessity rather than choice.
As soon as the river had contracted once again into its ordinary bed, which it does very soon after the rains are over, I obtained a day’s leave of absence, in order to pay a visit to a famous haunt of wild-fowl. Such at least was its reputation, and for once in the course of her long life, Dame Rumour had spoken correctly. Something like an hour’s journey by boat brought me to a perfect El Dorado of geese and ducks. When we had reached the extensive “jheel,” or swamp, where they most did congregate, one of my men procured me a small native boy, who was delighted at the prospect of paddling me about in his own canoe. I had soon taken up my position in the bow with gun and ammunition—those were the days of powder-flask, shot-belt and wads—and we forthwith raised the alarm, the immense numbers of fowls fairly blotting out the bright sky for several moments.
I discharged both barrels into the flock, and, ere I could look round, my amphibious little guide was in the water, retrieving the dead and wounded, which were all ordinary ducks and geese in excellent condition. As this was a very likely place for an alligator, I felt extremely nervous on the boy’s account—the only drawback to a very pleasant and exciting day; but as he seemed rather to enjoy it than otherwise, I tried to persuade myself that the danger was one of my own creating. He enjoyed both the fun and the “tip” I gave him, for it was not every day he had the chance of earning a rupee.
Ere many weeks had rolled by, the kaleidoscope of military affairs was again shaken, and, to my infinite regret, the battery was ordered elsewhere.
My country house had therefore to be vacated; and I believe that even the colony of rats, lizards, frogs and mosquitoes, with which I had shared it, regretted my departure. The snakes, upon whom I always waged unrelenting war, were doubtless mightily pleased. As for the others, as long as they kept their place, I lived, and let live. Their name certainly was—legion!