IN SYN LEVEN RAET VAN
IN DIEN ENDE OPPER
HOOFT TE WATER ENDE
TE LANDE OVER DE NEDER
LANTSE NEGOTIE DE SER
CUST CORMANDEL. OVER
LEDEN. DEN. 29. AUGUSTY
ANNO. 1624.
(Here lies buried E. Jacob Dedel, in his lifetime Councillor of the Indies, and Commander-in-Chief on sea and land, over the Dutch Company of the Coromandel Coast. Died, 29th August, 1624.)
During 1862 I was in command of the artillery at Secunderabad, a large station near Hyderabad in the Deccan, the latter city being supposed to contain a somewhat turbulent dangerous population, but who in reality gave no trouble. The monotony of life was occasionally varied by hunting wild animals in the hills and jungles. Although a very bad shot, I took part in the sport on two special occasions. The one was in pursuit of a bear, and the other of a tiger. In the first case we rode by night to some distant hills, and were posted in the dark behind rocks by the shikarree; and, being a novice, I was given the place of honour, the native kindly remaining at my side, and explaining that the cave of the bears was just above and behind me, and that at daylight I should find several coming straight up the hill on their way home. Sure enough, as day dawned, two large black objects appeared leisurely crossing the plain, snuffing about, as they slouched along, and presently they began the ascent. The critical moment had arrived, and, on a signal from the shikarree, I fired, and the bears immediately bolted. The shikarree threw up his hands, and, much disappointed, said that my shot had missed. It was not so, however, for on going to the spot we discovered traces of blood, and were able to track the wounded animal up the hill to his home—a dark, narrow, steep cleft in the rock. Here a consultation was held, and it was decided by the experts that we must follow up the track, and enter the den. A procession was formed accordingly. First came a coolie with a long lighted torch, which he waved about and pushed into the crevices; then I followed, crawling on all fours with a gun on full-cock ready for all emergencies. Two or three companions came on similarly prepared. All at once we heard a scream and a rush, and I was about to fire at anybody or anything, and should probably have killed the coolie, when it turned out to be merely a bat fluttering against the lighted torch. The smell of bears, bats, rats, and other creatures was horrible. Still we struggled on, until the narrow tortuous passage gradually ramified into large fissures, and we then discovered that the bear had passed out of its home by another opening, and so escaped. The adventure ended, and we were glad to crawl back into the open air again.
The other expedition was also exciting in its way. In hunting tigers in Bengal it is the custom to be seated in a howdah on the back of an elephant, so as to stamp through the jungle and shoot the animals from a commanding position in comparative safety. In Madras, however, it is considered fairer to advance on foot, on the principle, I presume, of giving both sides a chance. One afternoon we were again conducted by the shikarree to a distant hill, and on an elevated plateau were all posted in a large semicircle, each hidden behind a rock, and in the centre a young kid was tied to a stone. The expectation was that the tiger would come to eat the kid, and then we were all to fire and kill the tiger. As this was my first experience, I inquired, with some interest, whether possibly the animal might not approach from behind, and begin to eat me instead of the kid. The suggestion, however, was scouted, and I was assured that it would much prefer the latter. So we took up our positions, and remained on watch. After a time the young goat, finding the entertainment dull, laid down and tried to go to sleep; but the shikarree advanced and with a knife cut a small slit in its ear, which made it bleat piteously; and this, it was hoped, would afford an additional attraction. Again we waited, and I could not refrain from occasionally looking over my shoulder, to assure myself that the expected wild beast was not surreptitiously altering the programme. It was getting dark when a breathless coolie arriving from a distant hill, brought the news that the tiger was asleep in a cave a long way off; so the kid escaped, and we all went home. I thought the sequel rather flat.
Society at Secunderabad was occasionally enlivened by amateur theatricals in the assembly rooms, and, being fond of painting, I was induced on one occasion to produce a drop-scene for the stage. One afternoon I was seated accordingly, in some old clothes, on the top of a step-ladder, with a large brush and a bucketful of sky-blue, attempting to produce some lovely cloud effects, when a private soldier of the 18th Royal Irish strolled in smoking his pipe. After admiring the scenery for some time, and evidently taking me for a professional, he remarked: 'I say, guv'nor, is that a good business out here?' My reply was, 'No, it isn't a very permanent affair, but I like it.' Then he went on, 'I think I've seed you afore' (which was probable). 'Was you ever engaged at the Surrey in London?' I said that I had been at that theatre, but had never been engaged. 'Well, then, I have seed you afore,' he continued; 'you was acting the part of Belphegor.' What play he was alluding to I had no idea, or who Belphegor was, but unfortunately at that moment a brother officer casually looked in and said, 'Well, Colonel, how are you getting on?' The soldier at once took in the situation, stood up, saluted, and saying, 'I'm thinking I'm in the presence of my supariors,' faced about and left the room. The drop-scene was finished, and was considered a great success.