On the Irrawaddy: A Story of the First Burmese War

by G. A. Henty

He placed himself in the line of the doorway. As the wall here was four feet thick, the room was in semi-darkness and, standing well back, he was certain that his figure could not be perceived by anyone standing in the glare of sunshine outside. The sounds grew louder and louder; and in a minute or two an officer, followed by some twenty men, emerged from the trees. All paused, when they saw the temple. The men would have drawn back at once; but the officer shouted to them to advance, although showing small inclination to do so, himself.

They were still standing, irresolute, when a superior officer on horseback, followed by some fifty footmen, came up the path. He shouted orders for them to search the temple and, as the fear of him was even greater than their dread of the spirits, the whole of the men made their way over the fallen stones, and up to the face of the rock. They first entered the chamber where the horses had been stabled. The officer who had first arrived went in with his men and, coming out, reported to his senior that there had been a fire made, and that some horses had also been there; but that three weeks, or a month, must have passed since then.

"Are you sure of that?"

"Quite certain, my lord. It is extraordinary that anyone should have dared to enter there, still less to stable horses when, as everyone knows, the temple is haunted by evil spirits."

"I care nothing for spirits," the officer said. "It is men we are in search of. Go and look into any other chambers there may be."

At this moment a deep, mournful sound was heard. Louder and louder it rose, and then gradually died away. The soldiers stood as if paralysed. Even the high official--who had been obliged to leave his horse, and make his way across the fallen blocks on foot--stepped back a pace, with an expression of awe. He soon recovered himself, and shouted angrily to the men to go on. But again the dirge-like noise rose, louder and louder. It swelled, and then as gradually died away; but this time with a quavering modulation.

The men looked up, and round. Some gazed at the upper part of the rock, some straight ahead, while others turned round and faced the forest.

"Search!" the officer shouted, furiously. "Evil spirits or no evil spirits, not a man shall stir from here, until the place is searched."

Then rose a shrill, vibrating sound, as if of eerie laughter. Not even the officer's authority, or the fear of punishment, could restrain the soldiers. With cries of alarm, they rushed across the ruins and plunged into the forest; followed, at a rate which he tried in vain to make dignified, by the officer who, as soon as he reached his horse, leapt upon it and galloped away.

The Burmese keenly appreciate a joke and, as soon as the troops had fled, the villagers and guards inside the temple threw themselves down on the ground, and roared with laughter. Stanley at once made his way into the upper room.