A MARCH THROUGH INDIA.

Lyttelton Times, Volume LVI, Issue 6492, 17 December 1881, Page 3

A MARCH THROUGH INDIA.

(Fie Id.) Wo landed at Bombay in September. For Iho majority of us it was our first tour of Indian service, and all was pleasurable excite meat—visions of tiger hunts, pig sticking, oky mootings, lotteries, and all the thousand and one excitements of India, of which all of us bad road, and of which we had talked so much since we received our orders for India —constantly flitted across our minds. For us India held untold treasures—read of, dreamt of, now at last to bo unfolded. Well, wo landed, having left England at ten day*’ notice (as reinforcements for Afghanistan), on the receipt of the "Annihilation telegram,” to find that General Roberts had made his ever-memorable march, and that all our dreams of Victoria crosses, brevets, Ac , were dashed to the ground. Our disappointment was great, but never mind! we had ’till the sport of India loft. So “ Five la Ouerrc ,” whether with Afghan or tiger. Now, as Goner-1 Roberts had mads his march, there was no further need of us, and, as the trooping season had not commenced) there was no elation vacant; What was to done with us? A happy thought struck some official, “ Drt them march to the other end of India; by the time they get there, there will be room for them.” A capital idea; but the weather being too hot for it to be acted upon at ooco, we were sent t> a station to which one of the regiments then at the front belonged, there to remain until the said regiment returned. It was a capital station, though a trifle warm, and for a few weeks wo amused ourselves in thorough Indian fashion gymkhanas, theatrical-, riding parties, pien'es dances, Ac., enjoying it as one only can enj y one’s first taste of anything, be it one’s first partridge, the Kossession lor the first time of one’s own orse or gun, one’s earliest calf-love, or one’s first in sight into Indian I.fe. At last the time for the official’s happy thought to be acted upon arrived, and we received our orders to march from the station, where we had so enjoyed ourselves, and where we had been so hospitably received, to Chakrsta, in the Himalayas, a distance of nearly eight hundred miles, which, according to the " Boute Book,” would take us two months and a half to accomplish. If the authorities did not know what to do with us, I think the official with the happy thought ought to have been ‘highly commended.” Wo were to march—to march through eight hundred miles of India, to see more strange countries and cities in two months and a half than generally falls to the lot of man to see, in these days of railways, in the whole of his service, and we should have the chance of killing every kind of game, from snipe to tiger. Does this stir your blood, readers ? You older men who served in India when long marches were the order of the day, does not this recall to your minds some of the happiest hours of your lives? Oarnotyou remember how on this march you killed that magnificent buck ? how on that poor Smith, whoafterwards went te the dogs, got ripped by a boar; how on another the Colon* 1 got that awful cropper in a nullah ? Cannot you remember these things, and does not your blood warm, and don’t you feel the spear once more in your hands and the trusty Arab between your knees, as yon dash along in mad pnrsnit of your quarry ? Ah! I know well yon remember them, aye! and hare never forgotten them. Don’t you think, then, that we were lucky to have the chance of seeing the life yon loved so well ? And you youngsters, although it cannot awaken any memories of pig sticking, black buck or tigers, does not it kindle in you an intense desire to partake of all the sport which is now opened out to ns P lam sure that the old hunter, and the young and unentered one, will feel—the old, a longing after the life gone by; the young, a feeling that life will not be complete without tasting these pleasures; and both, will envy ns our good fortnne as, fresh from England, full of health and energy, we receive our orders to march through some of the best shooting country in India. Oh! the excitement tnose orders caused! the amount of questions that were asked! How those, who had been in India before were pestered, morning, noon, and night, for Information. Having been in India before, they, of coarse, always had an answer ready; but as the last time they were in the country the Suez Canal, changing all things as it has done, bad not been opened, I am bound to say their advice was not particularly useful; still, they gave it cheerfully, and what matter if it suffered the fate of all advice ? Then the preparations that had to be made. A tent was a necessity, so was a good pony, a suitable kit, Ac., and perhaps it would not be out of place here to mention the best kind of kit to get. First, then, on coming out to India, believe nobody who tells you to bring a whole lot of things ; I speak from experience lately gained, and my advice is, let married people get all kinds of linen and bed clothing, knives, forks, and spoons, some nice chintz, and all the money they can lay hands on; get nothing else, everything can be bought cheaper in India when the carriage out is taken into consideration, and when going home they can be left behind without regret. Let the unmarried man bring out a canteen for the march or for shooting excursions, and all the money he can get hold of. All riding gear, guns, and boots should be brought from England. Now as wards the kit for a march; let it be as light as possible, for roads in India are not macadamised, and if your hackery is overladen you may have to pass the day without your things, besides missing Ihe day’s shooting. Take two or three pairs of good strong shooting boots, several shooting suit*-, leggings, Ac. All your underclothing slnmi.) be of flannel, your pocket handkere 1 it* ?i!k ; take also plenty of soap, for ‘.•alKit.g m India is vary trying, and after a fifteen- mile march, with a pair of clean socks on well soaped as to the feet, you may walk and shoot all day without inconvenience, and your feet bo quite fit for the next day’e work. Have a soft broad-brim-med hat. Do not forget your canteen nor your quinine, and, with your riding and shooting things eAstsm a sou godt t your kit will be complete for any march.

Well, after days of anxious thought and nights of deliberation, and brandies and sodas, our preparations were complete ; and at 4 a.m. on December 31, 1880, we commenced our little walk, the band playing away as if it was broad daylight, the Southern Cross shining brightly in the heavens, behind us the North Star, towards which we were to continually advance, pointing out to us, as it were, the road to Chakrata. As we should have to travel the first thirty days through the jungle, were no roads were, and as wo should not pass through any place whence supplies could be drawn, it behoved us to take all we required with us. This required a largo transport, and we had forty elephants, seventy camels, 160 pack bullocks, and about throe' hundred hackeries, some drawn by two, others by three bullocks; add to these the officers' tattoos, or ponies, and you have a goodly train indeed, stretching from the tip of the drum-major’s staff at the head of the regiment, to the last straggling bullock in rear, upwards of three miles. After trudging along for about three hours, half asleep, tumbling into holes, knocking one’s shin’s against rooks, &o.— for it must be remembered that there was no road, merely a track through the jungle—the drums and fifes suddenly strike up, “ Polly, put the kettle on." An electric spark runs through the ranks. Everyone is awake at once. It is the “coffee halt’’—a most excellent institution.

A half of half on hour, when each man gets a pint of tea or coffee and a biscuit, whilst the officer refreshes the inner man with coffee, eggs and jam, and the adventures of the morning are recounted —how Jones, who was carrying a colour, and who was walking along fast asleep, only awoke when he found himself at full length on the ground, having fallen over a big rook j how Smith’s pony got “bobbery,” and landed poor Smith ; how the big drummer, drumming away for bare life, not being able to see where ho was going, put his foot in a hole, and turned a complete somersault over his drum, as the clowns do in the pantomime, &o. a he next camp and the chances of sport are also talked about; and then, the half hour being up, pipes and cheroots are lighted, the officers mount their tattoos, and ths battalion steps cheerily away

for camp. Arrived there, we find that the quartermaster, who always g..e* on the night before, has marked out the placs where each tent is to stand, a little red flag showing where the centre is to be. Then the elephants and camels having come up, the tent* ura unloaded, the buj-ls pounds, and every tent rises simultaneously—it's like magic! Where half an hour brf re nothing was, now stands a largo and busy camp, ea-h man at his allotted task, whil-t the native cooks preparing the men’s breakfast are by no means the lo ist interest if g sight. Camps are so much alike that, but for the pcenery, one mi.ht think one had never moved. It reminds one of a panorama, ore’s tent being stationary whilst the conn ry is wheeled past. The men’s tents havirg been pitched all perfectly square —woe beiele (he unlucky individuals whoso lent pegs .re not in a line with all the others—-ih- nfli er repairs to bis tent, where a tub and a change i- 1 • shooting things make him fe»-l a* fre-h as a da'-v, and ready for anything that rn y turn up. Then over breakfast the ;’oing® for f-.e <’«r are discussed, Whatkin''of ground i-it ? What sort of gimo is there? Th** hi ad man of the nearest village is s-n: for, and according to his accounts po the arrangement* a'O made, Sometimes there are eh-- Is for snipe aid wil ifowl close by, or may te there are plenty of peacock round about, or deer or abound. No matter w at in is, there is always something: perhaps t*o orthree fellows will go out, singly or logo her, or perhaps a “ hauc” or drive is the order of the day, in which case the head man is instructed to procure beaters, which ho does in th- most extraordinary short time. Ihe order for th® beaters is given, say as you enter the mess tent for breakfas’, and on coming out you will find a hundredorso of them sitting round in a circle smoking the hu ibie-bubble. How an English beater would stare at the clothes these people have on!—I igbt a y have not on; for their costume g.ncr !ly c insists of a cloth round the waist, another round the head, and a pipe. And, ci- thid like this, they go through the thicks' jungle with apparent ease. They certainly hire the advantage of not being able to ear their clothes. The beaters ready and breakfast ended, tattoos are called for, and gut:-, rifle?, spears, Ac, are brought ont. Then wo at wonderful gets up there a e to be s;tu ; every man’s tailor has his own idea as to how the Indian hunter should be dr.aged, and -<> dres*f,-B him accordingly. No mutter! they lo>k like work, and so a start is made ; ec-h sportsman closely followed by a couple ot natives carrying his spare guns, am -.unirion, Ac.; the beaters, a howling mob, bringing up the rear. Arrived at the ifteet, the guns are no*ted and the sport commence*. H-re a peacock get® up and goes the whole way down the line, each gun having a shot at him, yet he sails triumphantly away. It is wonderful how easy it is to miss a peacock; the tail is the part that generally suffers rno.-t! I should bo sorry to have to own to the number of tails I bl-w to piece- before I could aim sufficiently forward. Then a pig gives the natives a fine chance of exercising their lungs—a chance they do not throw away! whdst someone firing at a ‘‘hare back” peppers a native in the l-gs—he also does not throwaway the chance of exercising his lungs. Perhaps too a deer, whic-, frightened by the noise, had lain close would be put up, and a pheasant rising at the same time, afford a quick shot, a pretty right and In fact the forest, teeming with ali kinos of game, gives sport to everyone. Th* hiuc” over, tattoos are again mounted, and a rac.- back to the camp ensues. Hera goes «. fellow head over heels, his pony having got hi.- foot in & hole; there, another comes a cop per over a faJen tree. All sorts of accident, yet no on® is ever hurt, and camp is reached in time for a wash and change before dinner a f 5 p.im, which has to be thus early, as the mess tent has to be sent on the same night, so that breakfast may be ready as soon as camp is reached next morning. And a marvellous dinner it is, too! Many a sportsman eating curry and rice at the ‘•Rag” remembers with a sigh, I expect, the curries he used to get in the gorgeous East. Yes! in the middle of the jungle, in a hole in the ground, or with two or three stones for a fireplace, and with half ft dozen copper vessels, a dinner is cooked which tne Prince of Wales could not despise, and, now I think of it, he must have eaten many of them during hi* visit to India. And what an appetite one has, too. This life in the open air is a wonderful one for appetites. Then after diner, sitting round the camp fire, songs are sung and stories told, or else in some >ce’s tent over the pipe and the glass of whisky and water, the day’s fight is fought over again—Smith explains how it was he missed that peacock, whilst O’Brien is sure he idled that hare, only the natives must have hidden it, or it got into a hole, Ac.; and as the right draws on and the whisky gets lower in the bottle, the pig, deer, Ac., increase in s-z? and number, and no one will hear of such a thirg as a miss—until, thoroughly tired, each man seeks his tent and that sl-ep which is sure to come after the day’s hard work, and dreams of sambur, tigers, leopards, Ac. until awakened at 3 a.m. the next morning, when he rises fresh as a two-year old, fit. and ready for the march and another day’s shoot.

This is a fair sample of a day’s march in India —monotonous perhaps; but, given a good country with game plentiful, it would be difficult to find a pleasanter way of spending a month or bo. There are, of course, many incidents that tend to e- .<v n "’nreb, and on looking through my -■ i ; *-.ad a few which may amuse and ic-i : I

therefore turn over the leav?. -* ■ ; s*9 over and over again such estii' ■ •- ■; aie at 3 a.m., marched fifteen ;■: •■■■ the afternoon shot a buck; the 'ita] ■ i ■: -tupe and duck.” “Rouse at 33 ) -.i.-v., m -.re ved eleven miles; had a capital ‘ h -u.-; co’. a lot of peacock and quail, &e u;.!:l I come to “ Herat, Jan. £): Great elephant hunt." What an excitement that caused, to be sure ! Wtiilst we were looking cn at a great game of football amongst the men, we heard a terrific noise of squealing and trumpeting, a;d on running up we found that o e of our elephants had got very excited, and breaking loose from his tether, charged headlong at a large elephant not far off, knocking him clean head over heels. Tf: • s «oek broke his tether also, so up he scrambled, and wi.n a great roar made for his assailant, ace. a capital stand up fight would no doubt have ensued it all the mahout* hud not rushed out with long spears, and by pricking them in their tenderest point —vi*., the trunk managed to separate them. The one that had been knocked over was easily captured ; he was * bit stunned by his fall, perhaps. Not so the other one, however; his blood was up, and so was his trunk ! and for upwards of an hour ho careered madly up and down, knocking everything over that came in his way. It was no earthly good seeking shelter in one s tent; the mahouts sticking to him like fhes, and pricking his trunk with their spears, gradually edged him away from the camp, where the old elephants were sending out notes of defiance and rage; till at last one mahout, more nimble than the rest, whilst Mr Elephant was busily engaged with the spears in front, slipped a chain round one of his hind legs, whoa he was easily secured. He was, however, useless for the remainder of the march. He would carry no burden, but was led in rear of the battalion »i h heavy chains on his legs, be had eventually to bo sent out of that movable column, a* elephants never forge, or forgive s i« those two ever come across each other, the fight'of the Kilkenny ca's will hare to be rewritten ! (To be continued.)