After remaining a few days at Hyderabad the army resumed its march, and arrived next evening at Baida. An accident occurred here, by which a trooper of the 4th Light Dragoons lost his life. The banks of the river were extremely steep, and as we were watering our horses the pressure from behind forced a man named Helm into the river. He was instantly carried away by the current, and was soon lost to view, although we strained every effort to save him. His body floated down to Hyderabad, and was recovered by the natives, who restored it to his commanding officer, together with a belt full of rupees, which was found round his waist.
Continuing our route we arrived at the Lukkee Pass, where we found some thermal springs, from which the sick derived considerable benefit. A noble lake at the further extremity of the defile afforded our officers several days shooting and fishing, while the beautiful scenery, by which it was surrounded on every side, furnished such of them as were artists with fine subjects for the exercise of their pencil. Precipitous heights, assuming every variety of fantastic form, stretched downward to the water's edge, some in graceful sweeps, and others in bold and threatening attitudes, whilst their bases were hid in rich woods or washed by the waters of the lake.
Leaving this romantic spot with regret, we proceeded to Kotiah, where we lost two soldiers belonging to her Majesty's 17th regiment of Foot. They went out in search of some camels which were at pasturage and were never afterwards seen or heard of. A party which was sent in search of them found the marks of footsteps and some traces of blood on the spot where the camels had been grazing, and from the torn up appearance which the ground presented there was little doubt that they had made a desperate struggle for their lives.
Not satisfied with carrying off our camels, the Belochees frequently ventured within the lines after nightfall, and made off with any thing they could lay their hands upon. Sir Keith Jackson, the Captain of my own troop, detected a fellow with a bridle in his hand, which he was watching an opportunity to slip off with unperceived, and taking his hand whip he inflicted a most unmerciful castigation upon him. The rascal whined and moaned like a corrected child during the progress of the punishment, but as soon as he was let loose he stuck his tongue in his cheek, and went laughing out of camp.
Our next destination was Sehwan, a thickly populated village, about seventy English miles from Hyderabad. Here we were joined by the ever to be lamented Sir Henry Fane, who was to have assumed the command of the combined forces at their junction at Candahar, but who declined it in disgust at the wretchedly organised state of the commissariat, and the neglect which had been shown in providing for the contingencies of the route. Sir Henry foresaw, and subsequent events justified his views, that although supplies might be regularly forwarded from time to time, it was extremely doubtful, nay almost next to impossible, that they could reach an army always on the advance, through distant and mountainous regions, and having enemies hanging on its rear who were but too deeply interested in preventing their safe arrival.
Before Sir Henry left us he inspected the troops, and appeared satisfied with the condition of the men, who had not as yet encountered hardships sufficient to affect their appearance. There have been few men in command whose personal qualities have more endeared him to those who served under him than Sir Henry Fane. He was between sixty and seventy years of age, at the time I speak of, and his venerable countenance, beaming with the kindliest and most benevolent feelings, and manners that had a parental touch about them, combined to render him one of the most respected and popular officers in the army. We viewed his departure from amongst us with the deepest regret, for though we felt the fullest confidence in our then leader, this gallant veteran had so won upon our affections that a comparison with him must have proved invidious to any one.
The ingenuity of the Asiatic jugglers is well known, and I believe our European exhibitors derive their proficiency, in a great measure, from them, our soldiery carrying back with them the rudiments of this respectable branch of knowledge, and turning their swords, if not into ploughshares, at least into as peaceable and innocent a mode of gaining a livelihood. An exhibition which took place during our short stay at Sehwan made many of the "greenhorns" amongst us gape, and impressed them with a very high notion of the favour in which the professors of the art are held by his Satanic Majesty. Returning one day from the bazaar, I observed a crowd of soldiers and natives assembled near the lines of the Artillery. Elbowing my way through them I found a conjuror at his tricks, and from the expensive and elaborate nature of the paraphernalia by which he was surrounded, at once perceived that his pretensions were of the highest order. He was attired in loose flowing robes, covered with mystic characters; and a long white beard descended to his waist, contrasting oddly with his jet black locks and piercing hazel eyes. Surrounded by the various emblems and accessories of his art, he looked a very imposing figure, and every movement which he made was regarded with as much interest as if destiny really rested on his fiat. His only assistants were a man who beat a tom-tom, or drum, to collect an audience, and a beautifully formed girl about five or six years of age, whose supple and graceful movements excited general admiration. Having made a clear space of about thirty feet in diameter, the conjuror took an oblong basket, about two feet in length, and one in breadth, the interior of which he exhibited to the spectators, in order to convince them that nothing was concealed in it. After performing a variety of common-place tricks, such as balancing a sword upon a pipe and then swallowing the blade, he suddenly turned towards the child and addressed her in an angry tone of voice. She made some reply which appeared to make him still more choleric, for his features became swollen with rage, and his eyes shot glances of fire. The discussion continuing in the same violent strain he appeared no longer able to control his fury, and suddenly seizing the child by the waist, he opened the basket and crammed her into it. The half stifled cries of the girl were distinctly heard, but they only appeared to enrage him the more. Snatching a sword, which lay near him, he plunged it to the hilt in the basket, twice or thrice, and every time he drew it out it was reeking with gore. The half smothered groans and sobs of the dying child at length convinced several of the spectators that a murder had been committed, and two or three soldiers rushed into the circle for the purpose of seizing the criminal. Triumphantly smiling at the success of the cheat, he held them at bay with the sword for a few minutes, when, to our great surprise, the child bounded into the circle, unscathed, from amidst the crowd, though we had kept our eyes attentively fixed on the basket all the time. Suspecting that two children had been employed, I examined the basket, but found no trace of an occupant, and saw nothing in its construction which could have aided the deception. This clever trick was loudly applauded, and brought its author a plentiful harvest of pice and cowries, while many there were who went away with the firm conviction that it could only have been effected through the agency of the devil himself.
We had left a number of sick behind us at Tattah, with instructions that they should be conveyed in pattemars up the river Indus, and rejoin us at Sehwan. A boat containing a corporal and five men was stranded on the banks of the river, and was with some difficulty got off. The soldiers were so prostrated with fever that they could scarcely move, and in this state they arrived at Sehwan. To their great distress they found that the army had proceeded on its route, and one of their companions expired immediately after their arrival. The heat of the sun was intolerable, and the corpse began to putrify. In vain they implored the native boatmen to inter it or cast it in the river, but they preferred running the risk of infection to touching the dead body of an infidel. The corporal, who was well acquainted with the language of the country, entreated some of the natives who crowded to the banks to remove the body, but they remained deaf to his prayers. Resorting to a stratagem which he thought would have the effect of removing their religious scruples, he asserted that the deceased had died in the Mahommedan faith, and commanded them on pain of the displeasure of the Prophet, to give him decent interment. At first they looked incredulous, but the corporal swore loud and fast, and they were at length convinced. They removed the body, and placing it on a sort of bier, somewhat similar to a sailor's hammock, carried it on shore. Having swathed it in cotton cloths, and laid it with the feet towards the setting sun, they decked the head and breast with flowers, and bore it in procession to the place of interment, which was situated in a romantic spot on the banks of the Indus. The companions of the deceased proceeded on their route, rejoicing in the success of the corporal's trick, and rejoined the main body without further accident.