With the Connaught Rangers

by Edward Herbert Maxwell

Our next halt was at Rawul Pindee, and at the wonderful store that provided all sorts and kinds of ‘English goods,’ from candlesticks to flannel shirts, I was able to replenish my exhausted wardrobe. These ‘English stores’ are one of the great features of Indian life. I daresay now, with a railway up to Peshawur, home goods are cheaper, but in the days of which I write everything of English manufacture was enormously dear, and there was apt to be a tarnished, spotted appearance in the goods that made their acquisition a doubtful pleasure. The merchants conducted business in a very superior manner. To appear behind their own counter was a thing unheard of. In short, ready money in those days was not the way of the country. Even the collections at church were made with slips of paper and a pencil, the money being called for next day.

I have an amusing letter in my collection from one of the store-keepers in the Punjaub. An officer in the Rifle Brigade, having ordered a forage-cap, addressed the letter to Mr. ——, shopkeeper, &c., from whom he received the following reply:—

‘Sir,—I will do our best in having a forage-cap made up for you as kindly desired. I would, however, remark that we prefer not being addressed as “shopkeepers,” as we have no claim to such.’

From Rawul Pindee we tramped on past various camping-grounds to Goojerat, where we spent many rupees on presents for home friends. Goojerat is celebrated for its inlaid gold on iron-work. I got a very handsome brace of pistols and various knick-knacks done in the same style. Near our camping-ground was the scene of the great battle of that name. Of course the cultivation of the fields has altered the appearance of the surrounding country. Our march along the high-road was varied by crossing the rivers of the Punjaub, which at this season had dwindled into small, deep, rapid streams, traversed by bridges of boats. But it was heavy work for men and animals getting over the wide reach of deep sand that we met with on each side of the streams. It was as much as could be accomplished in one day.

Six days after crossing the Chenab, we arrived at Shadera, and encamped near Jehangir’s tomb. Runjeet Sing took away all the marble of the tomb to make the gardens of Shalimar. It is about two miles from Lahore, the capital of the Punjaub, which stands on the opposite bank of the Ravi, and, like most Indian towns of any pretensions, looks more imposing in the distance than it does when you explore it. But Lahore is very majestic. It is eight miles in circuit, and is surrounded by a high wall flanked by bastions and by a broad moat. There are some very fine mosques here, notably the mosque of Padshah, with its lofty minarets and cupolas, and of Vizier Khan, covered with painted and lacquered tiles. The bazaars were good, and some of the work of Lahore, such as the lacquered work and the gorgeous shawls sewn with gold and silver threads, are well worth buying.

I met with a sad misfortune while halted at Shadera. We were exploring the lovely gardens round Jehangir’s tomb, in which everything was in a state of wildest luxuriance. A protruding thorn branch fastened itself in my one red tunic, and inflicted injuries too deep for the most skilful tailor to be able to make a neat mend. More sorely than ever did I feel the evil wrought me by those thievish hill-tribes. Though it was only the end of February, it was getting very hot in tents, and the sun was already high before the morning marches were accomplished. The dusty encampment at Meau Meer was very disagreeable, not a green leaf or a tree near us; we had to stop here to change our carts; our last important halt before completing our march.

My wife and I let the regiment get a day ahead of us when we reached Ferozepore, as we stayed with an old friend who welcomed us most warmly. It is a pretty green station, once the British boundary. We saw here the most wonderful flight of locusts pass over the place. The whole air was darkened with them. I can only compare the effect to that of a blinding snowstorm; but the colour was grey instead of white. All the populace turned out with tin pots, kettles, drums, and tom-toms to prevent the enemy settling, and the main body passed the station in about an hour, but thousands of stragglers kept flying after them all the afternoon, and many thousands more dropped exhausted. The natives collect the fallen, and make curries of them, which is not at all a bad dish; but woe to the green fields if they be allowed to alight on them—not a blade of grass or green leaf escapes these fearful marauders.

The next flight of winged things we saw was a flock of wild geese, so numerous that the whole goose tribe seemed to be emigrating to more temperate zones.

CHAPTER XV.
THE HIMALAYAS.

AGRA—LETTER-WRITERS IN BAZAAR—A DILEMMA—THE RAJAH OF ULWAR—THE TAJ-MAHAL—DESERTED CITY OF PALACES—FUTTEHPORE SEKRI—RAILWAY TRAVELLING—THE SEWALLIC RANGE—THE HIMALAYAS—THE SNOWY RANGE—DEHRA—THE TRAINING SEASON—CHOLERA—PROCLAIMING BANNS OF MARRIAGE—PRESAGES OF A STORM.