Wanderings in India, and Other Sketches of Life in Hindostan

by John Lang

"Ah! that of course," said the Lieutenant. "It is always the case. They steal the bit of marble to make a currystone—a stone on which they grind the ingredients for a curry. It was not worth more than a shilling, intrinsically; but if it had only been worth one anna, or a quarter of an anna—half a farthing—they would have carried it away all the same, just as they steal pieces of iron and lead from the stone bridges, and thus do immense mischief. All along the Grand Trunk Road you will find the stones used for headstones carried away from the graves."

The march, thirteen miles, occupied us five hours, so slowly did the bullocks crawl along with the treasure. It was about four o'clock when we came to the ground—the hour at which, in strictness, the Lieutenant should have started; but he informed me that when on separate duty, he took a good deal of responsibility on himself, and without detriment to the interests of government, suited his own convenience and that of his men. He therefore preferred making night work of the business, and having the whole day at his own disposal.

"Send your bearers away, and spend the day with me," said the lighthearted Lieutenant. "You can get other bearers at any of the villages in the neighbourhood; or, if you are not in a violent hurry, march the whole distance to Agra with me. I can stick your palkee and boxes on the top of the treasure, you know."

I accepted the invitation with pleasure, and entered the tent, where we found tea and biscuits ready. After partaking of this refreshment we threw ourselves down on charpoys (native bedsteads), and soon fell fast asleep.

We slept till ten, when we arose, had breakfast, consisting of—the old story—grilled fowl, curried fowl, and eggs, with beer instead of tea; and then we went out and sat under the mango trees, which formed a dense shade over the encampment. The Lieutenant had with him a pellet bow, and was shooting at the squirrels, which abound in the Upper Provinces of India. While he was thus employed a Sepoy—a Brahmin—called out: "Sahib, you have no right to do that. It is written in the general orders that you must respect the religious feelings of the Hindoos, and here are you wantonly destroying the life of animals in our presence. I shall report this to the Colonel Sahib, when we return to the regiment."

From the tone in which the Sepoy spoke, I thought he was in earnest. The Lieutenant, however, assured me that he was only ridiculing one of those absurd general orders which frequently appear, but of which bad and discontented Sepoys often take advantage. Ere long this Brahmin, observing that the light of the Lieutenant's cheroot was extinguished, brought him some fire. The Lieutenant gravely shook his head, and said—"No; it is written in general orders that no officer shall employ for his own purposes a Sepoy who is a soldier and not a servant, and that any officer so offending will subject himself to be tried by a court martial." Then, taking the fire from the hand of the Brahmin, he remarked to me—"The consequence of that order, for which there never was the slightest occasion, is simply this: those men who are willing to oblige their officers laugh at it, while the disaffected will insolently quote it if required only to pick up a glove or a walking-stick. Many an officer has been severely reprimanded for asking a Sepoy to carry a letter for him to the post office."

It was a very pretty scene, that encampment. The tents; the arms piled in front of them; the horse under a tree, and his syce seated near him; the old buggy and harness not far off; the Sepoys in groups employed in cooking their food for the mid-day meal; the numbers of brass vessels lying about in all directions; the score of squirrels hopping from branch to branch, or running up and down the trunks of the trees; the crows, the minars, and the sparrows on the look out for crumbs; the bullocks taking their rest after the fatigues of the past night; and then, before as well as after the meal, the men crowding round the well, and washing themselves from head to foot, and washing also their under garments, which are speedily dried in the sun of that climate. It is impossible to witness and not admire this part of the Hindoo and Mussulman religions.

After one o'clock, when every man had enjoyed his smoke, there was scarcely a soul, except myself and the Lieutenant, awake in the encampment. All were fast asleep in the open air. The Asiatic must sleep after his mid-day meal, if it be only for half an hour. The loss of this little sleep is a very severe privation.

At three o'clock the encampment was again all life. Some of the Sepoys wrestled, and exhibited amazing skill and strength in the art. To an European it is a mystery how men who live upon nothing but farinaceous food can be so muscular and powerful. Others smoked their pipes (small hookahs), and played at a native game called puchesee, resembling lotto; while a goodly number congregated around a Mussulman, who was reading aloud the Bagh-o-Bahar, a Hindoostanee work of great celebrity. Two or three of the company were musical, and played alternately on the sitarre (native guitar or violin), accompanied by the tom-tom (native drum), and the voices of those who were disposed and able to sing. As for the Lieutenant and myself we beguiled the time in conversation and with écarté. Towards sunset a palkee dâk carriage was reported to be in sight, coming down the road. "Hooray!" cried the Lieutenant; "come along! let us board him. I am in want of a few small matters."