Life and Travel in Lower Burmah: A Retrospect

by C. T. Paske

It is more difficult to assign any adequate reason for their poor show of fighting qualities when strongly entrenched; the few who had ever faced and survived disciplined troops and English guns probably exaggerated their own prowess, and consequently, too, the number and strength of the enemy.

The theory of fighting appears to constitute in the eyes of the Burmese a very amusing game: it was their delight to build a great stockade, arm it with what weapons they could muster, and fancy themselves secure from even the most daring of intruders. Untaught, too, by numerous reverses, it was also their fancy that an enemy invariably attacks in front, so that any flank movement completely disorganized them, all their strength having been concentrated on the front of their building. Had we, for example, attacked the Rangoon Pagoda—the key of the whole position—from the front, our troops would to a certainty have been frightfully punished; but we moved under cover of the jungle to the east side, where we were least expected, and its defenders ignominiously fled without anything more than the faintest show of resistance.

The result of coming in contact with such peaceful, well-behaved natives inspired greater confidence into our party; and while scarce a shot had been fired hitherto at any kind of game, partly owing to the nature of the surroundings, and partly because we thought it might be distasteful to our worthy chief, no objection whatever was now raised to a little shooting, and it was in this wise that I encountered my first tiger in his native haunts and majestic beauty.

We were encamped in a large open space by the side of a somewhat broad but shallow stream, which furnished men and animals with the best and most abundant supply of water that we had come across since our departure. Nor did its advantages end here, for, besides to some extent protecting one side of the camp, its rippling music was very refreshing to our ears as we rested during the heat of the day.

As the result of a conversation, in which sport was the leading topic, it was agreed that four of us should go in a body and see what we could make of the jungle-fowl, which had, as usual, been crowing away that morning all along the line of march.

Accordingly, towards sunset we sallied forth, the two officers belonging to the European detachment and their orderlies, the officer in command of the Sepoys, and myself, with a Burmese lad to carry my ammunition.

A few minutes’ walk brought us to the jungle, which we at once entered, on the qui vive for whatever small game might turn up, the idea of encountering anything larger having, strange to say, never occurred to any of us. We were soon threading our way through an exceedingly pretty part of the jungle, amid gigantic trees with gnarled trunks, festooned with creepers, and inlaid with delicately-tinted and waxy-looking orchids, that peeped out everywhere from a profusion of spotless green leaves. These beautiful flowers, which always appear to me to be gifted with more expression than perhaps any other, seemed to warn us of dangers lurking within that tangled mass of vegetation, the haunts of the cruel python and other formidable creatures. There is much to be said in favour of the orchid, in spite of its lowly position in the vegetable kingdom as a parasite, or, to let it down more easily, an epiphyte. It is, in point of fact, a veritable robber, though not to the extent generally supposed; for, though it derives its sustenance from the tree on which it grows, yet this is extracted from the effete bark, and not from the juices. In this respect, therefore, orchids are more sinned against than sinning; sinners or no sinners, they are worthy of adoration, whether abroad in their sylvan haunts or as exotics at home. Exquisite in themselves, they show how, on so frugal a diet, they can rival any of our favourites, on which animal and other manures have been lavishly expended.

The forest now resounded with the report of double-barrelled firearms, and jungle-fowl were falling on all sides. Reloading, I followed, as I thought, in the track of the others, but their reports sounded further and further away as I advanced, and at length died away completely. Now and again I hailed them by name, but I might just as well have searched for a needle in a haystack as my companions in such a labyrinth, so I soon followed an independent course. That we had scattered was not to be wondered at—indeed, unavoidable; twisting about and facing every point of the compass in order to avoid trees and to steer clear of patches of thorny, low-growing jungle, both for their own sake and for the sake of what they might harbour, anything like keeping in touch was impossible. I found myself, therefore, alone, but for my little ammunition-bearer, who kept as close to me as he could, bounding forward whenever I fired, and every bit as interested in the proceedings as I was myself.

I had been creeping along cautiously for some time, looking to right and left and listening attentively, when it suddenly dawned upon me that it was time to get back to the camp. I accordingly did so with every feeling of confidence, but a few attempts convinced me of the fact that I was lost.

In my perplexity I took my boy into confidence, but, either owing to my imperfect knowledge of the language or his timidity, he proved but a Job’s comforter. Nor was there any help to be derived from the position of the declining sun, as it was completely hidden from view by the thick foliage overhead and everywhere around; so I proceeded at random, all interest in the excursion having vanished, and my every thought centred on how to get clear of the forest.