With the exception of the plantain, or banana as it is called in this country, the season for fruit was not. This exception, however, was sufficiently luscious to make the appetite grow by what it fed on. It is a fruit that nature has provided with a whole list of recommendations; it is obtainable all the year round, as the young shoots spring up of themselves from the rhizomes, causing the plantation to spread independently; it may be eaten at any time and with anything; is both cheap and nourishing; and, last but not least, as soon as the skin has been removed and the downy layer scraped off, there are no stones, cores, or pips.
Any one who has once made a lunch of bread, butter, cheese, beer and plantains, will, I guarantee, repeat the experiment; only the correct way of eating the fruit is after the downy covering has been removed, a process which, while it involves a little additional trouble, results in a very appreciable difference.
As the longest day must come to an end, so did our sojourn in “El Dorado” draw to a close, for affairs had settled down sooner than was expected, and out of regard for economy, it was considered unnecessary to keep the troops out any longer.
The native contingent was to garrison the place, and in that respect I wished I had, for a few months at least, been part and parcel of the same. But, alas! the “white face” cannot change his skin, whatever he may do as regards his spots.
Once more, then, we made a move in a north-easterly direction this time to Theyetmyo, where the camp was to break up in toto.
We now marched through a more elevated tract of country, neither so undulating nor so wild as on the other side of “Jordan,” and more thickly populated as we approached the Irrawaddy.
This march was, compared with what had preceded, naturally a tame affair, as we were no longer on the tiptoe of expectation. We had moreover entered the “promised land,” and after having tasted of its delights, we were going back to the ordinary duties of life.
Marching for six weeks without a specific object is apt to grow wearisome; the abnormally early hour of rising in semi-darkness; the noise of tent-peg hammering, and the sudden collapse of the tents; and the hideous noises made by any camels that happen to be present—all these conditions are extremely trying. As a beast of burden, the camel is a very useful creature, and there his qualifications end. In disposition he is a veritable savage, the process of lading him requires extreme caution, for with the slightest provocation, or without it, he will crane his lanky neck and endeavour to bite, treating any one he can lay hold of much as a terrier does a rat. Failing to bite, he utters the most dismal sounds imaginable, proceeding apparently from his very bowels; he kneels down under protest, and only after much tugging at his nose; and rises with such a jerk and grunt, that any articles not properly lashed on are hurled into space. The two periods, therefore, of loading and unloading these amiable creatures are extremely trying; while for riding, where the choice lies between a camel and a donkey, I should, unless I were in a desperate hurry, unhesitatingly choose the latter.
This time we shook hands with the officers of the frontier garrison from the land side, and were as hospitably entertained as before.
They had heard of our proceedings by means of the organized runners instituted for the purpose; from this quarter alone could succour have reached us in case of need. They too must have made a detour, though but a short one; and after all, a demonstration in front would probably have sufficed, for the Burmese, finding themselves between two fires, would have decamped in a stampede.