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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/28537-8.txt b/28537-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7d891ad --- /dev/null +++ b/28537-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5829 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Soldier Stories, by Rudyard Kipling + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Soldier Stories + +Author: Rudyard Kipling + +Release Date: April 8, 2009 [EBook #28537] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOLDIER STORIES *** + + + + +Produced by Stephen Hope, Joseph Cooper, Jeannie Howse and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + * * * * * + + +-----------------------------------------------------------+ + | Transcriber's Note: | + | | + | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original | + | document have been preserved. | + | | + | This e-book has dialect and unusual spelling. | + | | + +-----------------------------------------------------------+ + + * * * * * + + + + +SOLDIER STORIES + + + + +SOLDIER STORIES + +BY + +RUDYARD KIPLING + +AUTHOR OF "PLAIN TALES FROM THE HILLS," "UNDER THE +DEODARS," "THE PHANTOM RICKSHAW," "WEE +WILLIE WINKIE," ETC., ETC. + + +_WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS_ + + +NEW YORK +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY +LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD. +1896 + +_All rights reserved_ + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1896, +BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. + +Norwood Press +J.S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith +Norwood Mass. U.S.A. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + +WITH THE MAIN GUARD 1 + +THE DRUMS OF THE FORE AND AFT 25 + +THE MAN WHO WAS 78 + +THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD 101 + +THE INCARNATION OF KRISHNA MULVANEY 139 + +THE TAKING OF LUNGTUNGPEN 182 + +THE MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS 191 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + TO FACE PAGE + +'PUT YER 'EAD BETWEEN YOUR LEGS. IT'LL GO ORF IN A +MINUTE' 2 + +'HE RAN FORWARD WID THE HAYMAKERS' LIFT ON HIS +BAY'NIT' 12 + +HE PICKED HER UP IN THE GROWING LIGHT, AND SET HER +ON HIS SHOULDER 23 + +'HEY! WHAT? ARE YOU GOING TO ARGUE WITH _ME_?' +SAID THE COLONEL 35 + +CRIS SLID AN ARM ROUND HIS NECK 47 + +THE MEN STROLLED ACROSS THE TRACKS TO INSPECT THE +AFGHAN PRISONERS 50 + +THE TUNE SETTLED INTO FULL SWING, AND THE BOYS KEPT +SHOULDER TO SHOULDER 69 + +'_RUNG HO_, HIRA SINGH!' 85 + +HE FOUND THE SPRING 91 + +IT IS NOT GOOD THAT A GENTLEMAN WHO CAN ANSWER TO +THE QUEEN'S TOAST SHOULD LIE AT THE FEET OF A +SUBALTERN OF COSSACKS 94 + +'THIN WHIN THE KETTLE WAS TO BE FILLED, DINAH CAME +IN--MY DINAH' 117 + +'"MY COLLAR-BONE'S BRUK," SEZ HE' 121 + +'"THE HALF AV THAT I'LL TAKE," SEZ SHE' 132 + +'"OUT OF THIS," SEZ HE. "I'M IN CHARGE AV THIS SECTION +AV CONSTRUCTION."--"I'M IN CHARGE AV MESILF," SEZ +I, "AN' IT'S LIKE I WILL STAY A WHILE"' 149 + +'NINE ROUN'S THEY WERE EVEN MATCHED, AN' AT THE +TENTH----' 157 + +THERE PRANCED A PORTENT IN THE FACE OF THE MOON 166 + +'I WAS KRISHNA TOOTLIN' ON THE FLUTE' 176 + +'"SHTRIP, BHOYS," SEZ I. "SHTRIP TO THE BUFF, AN' +SHWIM IN WHERE GLORY WAITS!"' 185 + +'THERE WAS A _MELLY_ AV A SUMPSHUS KIND FOR A WHOILE' 187 + +ORTHERIS HEAVED A BIG SIGH 192 + +WE SET OFF AT THE DOUBLE AND FOUND HIM PLUNGING ABOUT +WILDLY THROUGH THE GRASS 201 + +[Illustration] + + + + +WITH THE MAIN GUARD + + Der jungere Uhlanen + Sit round mit open mouth + While Breitmann tell dem stdories + Of fightin' in the South; + Und gif dem moral lessons, + How before der battle pops, + Take a little prayer to Himmel + Und a goot long drink of Schnapps. + + _Hans Breitmann's Ballads._ + + +'Mary, Mother av Mercy, fwhat the divil possist us to take an' kape +this melancolious counthry? Answer me that, Sorr.' + +It was Mulvaney who was speaking. The time was one o'clock of a +stifling June night, and the place was the main gate of Fort Amara, +most desolate and least desirable of all fortresses in India. What I +was doing there at that hour is a question which only concerns M'Grath +the Sergeant of the Guard, and the men on the gate. + +'Slape,' said Mulvaney, 'is a shuparfluous necessity. This gyard'll +shtay lively till relieved.' He himself was stripped to the waist; +Learoyd on the next bedstead was dripping from the skinful of water +which Ortheris, clad only in white trousers, had just sluiced over his +shoulders; and a fourth private was muttering uneasily as he dozed +open-mouthed in the glare of the great guard-lantern. The heat under +the bricked archway was terrifying. + +'The worrst night that iver I remimber. Eyah! Is all Hell loose this +tide?' said Mulvaney. A puff of burning wind lashed through the +wicket-gate like a wave of the sea, and Ortheris swore. + +'Are ye more heasy, Jock?' he said to Learoyd. 'Put yer 'ead between +your legs. It'll go orf in a minute.' + +'Ah don't care. Ah would not care, but ma heart is plaayin' +tivvy-tivvy on ma ribs. Let me die! Oh, leave me die!' groaned the +huge Yorkshireman, who was feeling the heat acutely, being of fleshly +build. + +The sleeper under the lantern roused for a moment and raised himself +on his elbow.--'Die and be damned then!' he said. '_I_'m damned and I +can't die!' + +'Who's that?' I whispered, for the voice was new to me. + +'Gentleman born,' said Mulvaney; 'Corp'ril wan year, Sargint nex'. +Red-hot on his C'mission, but dhrinks like a fish. He'll be gone +before the cowld weather's here. So!' + + [Illustration: 'Put yer 'ead between your legs. It'll go orf in + a minute.'--P. 2.] + +He slipped his boot, and with the naked toe just touched the trigger +of his Martini. Ortheris misunderstood the movement, and the next +instant the Irishman's rifle was dashed aside, while Ortheris stood +before him, his eyes blazing with reproof. + +'You!' said Ortheris. 'My Gawd, _you_! If it was you, wot would _we_ +do?' + +'Kape quiet, little man,' said Mulvaney, putting him aside, but very +gently; ''tis not me, nor will ut be me whoile Dinah Shadd's here. I +was but showin' something.' + +Learoyd, bowed on his bedstead, groaned, and the gentleman-ranker +sighed in his sleep. Ortheris took Mulvaney's tendered pouch, and we +three smoked gravely for a space while the dust-devils danced on the +glacis and scoured the red-hot plain. + +'Pop?' said Ortheris, wiping his forehead. + +'Don't tantalise wid talkin' av dhrink, or I'll shtuff you into your +own breech-block an'--fire you off!' grunted Mulvaney. + +Ortheris chuckled, and from a niche in the veranda produced six +bottles of gingerade. + +'Where did ye get ut, ye Machiavel?' said Mulvaney. ''Tis no bazar +pop.' + +''Ow do _Hi_ know wot the Orf'cers drink?' answered Ortheris. 'Arst +the mess-man.' + +'Ye'll have a Disthrict Coort-Martial settin' on ye yet, me son,' said +Mulvaney, 'but'--he opened a bottle--'I will not report ye this time. +Fwhat's in the mess-kid is mint for the belly, as they say, 'specially +whin that mate is dhrink. Here's luck! A bloody war or a--no, we've +got the sickly season. War, thin!'--he waved the innocent 'pop' to the +four quarters of heaven. 'Bloody war! North, East, South, an' West! +Jock, ye quackin' hayrick, come an' dhrink.' + +But Learoyd, half mad with the fear of death presaged in the swelling +veins of his neck, was begging his Maker to strike him dead, and +fighting for more air between his prayers. A second time Ortheris +drenched the quivering body with water, and the giant revived. + +'An' Ah divn't see thot a mon is i' fettle for gooin' on to live; an' +Ah divn't see thot there is owt for t' livin' for. Hear now, lads! +Ah'm tired--tired. There's nobbut watter i' ma bones. Let me die!' + +The hollow of the arch gave back Learoyd's broken whisper in a bass +boom. Mulvaney looked at me hopelessly, but I remembered how the +madness of despair had once fallen upon Ortheris, that weary, weary +afternoon in the banks of the Khemi River, and how it had been +exorcised by the skilful magician Mulvaney. + +'Talk, Terence!' I said, 'or we shall have Learoyd slinging loose, and +he'll be worse than Ortheris was. Talk! He'll answer to your voice.' + +Almost before Ortheris had deftly thrown all the rifles of the guard +on Mulvaney's bedstead, the Irishman's voice was uplifted as that of +one in the middle of a story, and, turning to me, he said:-- + +'In barricks or out of it, as _you_ say, Sorr, an Oirish rig'mint is +the divil an' more. 'Tis only fit for a young man wid eddicated +fisteses. Oh the crame av disruption is an Oirish rig'mint, an' +rippin', tearin', ragin' scattherers in the field av war! My first +rig'mint was Oirish--Faynians an' rebils to the heart av their marrow +was they, an' _so_ they fought for the Widdy betther than most, bein' +contrairy--Oirish. They was the Black Tyrone. You've heard av thim, +Sorr?' + +Heard of them! I knew the Black Tyrone for the choicest collection of +unmitigated blackguards, dog-stealers, robbers of hen-roosts, +assaulters of innocent citizens, and recklessly daring heroes in the +Army List. Half Europe and half Asia has had cause to know the Black +Tyrone--good luck be with their tattered Colours as Glory has ever +been! + +'They _was_ hot pickils an' ginger! I cut a man's head tu deep wid my +belt in the days av my youth, an', afther some circumstances which I +will oblitherate, I came to the Ould Rig'mint, bearin' the character +av a man wid hands an' feet. But, as I was goin' to tell you, I fell +acrost the Black Tyrone agin wan day whin we wanted thim powerful bad. +Orth'ris, me son, fwhat was the name av that place where they sint wan +comp'ny av us an' wan av the Tyrone roun' a hill an' down again, all +for to tache the Paythans something they'd niver learned before? +Afther Ghuzni 'twas.' + +'Don't know what the bloomin' Paythans called it. We called it +Silver's Theayter. You know that, sure!' + +'Silver's Theatre--so 'twas. A gut betune two hills, as black as a +bucket, an' as thin as a girl's waist. There was over-many Paythans +for our convaynience in the gut, an' begad they called thimselves a +Reserve--bein' impident by natur'! Our Scotchies an' lashins av Gurkys +was poundin' into some Paythan rig'ments, I think 'twas. Scotchies and +Gurkys are twins bekaze they're so onlike, an' they get dhrunk +together when God plazes. As I was sayin', they sint wan comp'ny av +the Ould an' wan av the Tyrone to double up the hill an' clane out the +Paythan Reserve. Orf'cers was scarce in thim days, fwhat wid dysintry +an' not takin' care av thimselves, an' we was sint out wid only wan +orf'cer for the comp'ny; but he was a Man that had his feet beneath +him, an' all his teeth in their sockuts.' + +'Who was he?' I asked. + +'Captain O'Neil--Old Crook--Cruikna-bulleen--him that I tould ye that +tale av whin he was in Burma.[1] Hah! He was a Man. The Tyrone tuk a +little orf'cer bhoy, but divil a bit was he in command, as I'll +dimonstrate presintly. We an' they came over the brow av the hill, wan +on each side av the gut, an' there was that ondacint Reserve waitin' +down below like rats in a pit. + +'"Howld on, men," sez Crook, who tuk a mother's care av us always. +"Rowl some rocks on thim by way av visitin'-kyards." We hadn't rowled +more than twinty bowlders, an' the Paythans was beginnin' to swear +tremenjus, whin the little orf'cer bhoy av the Tyrone shqueaks out +acrost the valley:--"Fwhat the devil an' all are you doin', shpoilin' +the fun for my men? Do ye not see they'll stand?" + +'"Faith, that's a rare pluckt wan!" sez Crook. "Niver mind the rocks, +men. Come along down an' tak tay wid thim!" + +'"There's damned little sugar in ut!" sez my rear-rank man; but Crook +heard. + +'"Have ye not all got spoons?" he sez, laughin', an' down we wint as +fast as we cud. Learoyd bein' sick at the Base, he, av coorse, was not +there.' + +'Thot's a lie!' said Learoyd, dragging his bedstead nearer. 'Ah gotten +_thot_ theer, an' you know it, Mulvaney.' He threw up his arms, and +from the right arm-pit ran, diagonally through the fell of his chest, +a thin white line terminating near the fourth left rib. + +'My mind's goin',' said Mulvaney, the unabashed. 'Ye were there. Fwhat +was I thinkin' of? 'Twas another man, av coorse. Well, you'll remimber +thin, Jock, how we an' the Tyrone met wid a bang at the bottom an' got +jammed past all movin' among the Paythans?' + +'Ow! It _was_ a tight 'ole. I was squeezed till I thought I'd bloomin' +well bust,' said Ortheris, rubbing his stomach meditatively. + +''Twas no place for a little man, but _wan_ little man'--Mulvaney put +his hand on Ortheris's shoulder--'saved the life av me. There we +shtuck, for divil a bit did the Paythans flinch, an' divil a bit dare +we; our business bein' to clear 'em out. An' the most exthryordinar' +thing av all was that we an' they just rushed into each other's +arrums, an' there was no firing for a long time. Nothin' but knife an' +bay'nit when we cud get our hands free: an' that was not often. We was +breast-on to thim, an' the Tyrone was yelpin' behind av us in a way I +didn't see the lean av at first. But I knew later, an' so did the +Paythans. + +'"Knee to knee!" sings out Crook, wid a laugh whin the rush av our +comin' into the gut shtopped, an' he was huggin' a hairy great +Paythan, neither bein' able to do anything to the other, tho' both was +wishful. + +'"Breast to breast!" he sez, as the Tyrone was pushin' us forward +closer an' closer. + +'"An' hand over back!" sez a Sargint that was behin'. I saw a sword +lick out past Crook's ear, an' the Paythan was tuck in the apple av +his throat like a pig at Dromeen Fair. + +'"Thank ye, Brother Inner Guard," sez Crook, cool as a cucumber widout +salt. "I wanted that room." An' he wint forward by the thickness av a +man's body, havin' turned the Paythan undher him. The man bit the heel +off Crook's boot in his death-bite. + +'"Push, men!" sez Crook. "Push, ye paper-backed beggars!" he sez. "Am +I to pull ye through?" So we pushed, an' we kicked, an' we swung, an' +we swore, an' the grass bein' slippery our heels wouldn't bite, an' +God help the front-rank man that wint down that day!' + +''Ave you ever bin in the Pit hentrance o' the Vic. on a thick night?' +interrupted Ortheris. 'It was worse nor that, for they was goin' one +way, an' we wouldn't 'ave it. Leastaways, I 'adn't much to say.' + +'Faith, me son, ye said ut, thin. I kep' the little man betune my +knees as long as I cud, but he was pokin' roun' wid his bay'nit, +blindin' and stiffin' feroshus. The devil of a man is Orth'ris in a +ruction--aren't ye?' said Mulvaney. + +'Don't make game!' said the Cockney. 'I knowed I wasn't no good then, +but I guv 'em compot from the lef' flank when we opened out. No!' he +said, bringing down his hand with a thump on the bedstead, 'a bay'nit +ain't no good to a little man--might as well 'ave a bloomin' +fishin'-rod! I 'ate a clawin', maulin' mess, but gimme a breech that's +wore out a bit, an' hamminition one year in store, to let the powder +kiss the bullet, an' put me somewheres where I ain't trod on by 'ulkin +swine like you, an' s'elp me Gawd, I could bowl you over five times +outer seven at height 'undred. Would yer try, you lumberin' +Hirishman?' + +'No, ye wasp. I've seen ye do ut. I say there's nothin' better than +the bay'nit, wid a long reach, a double twist av ye can, an' a slow +recover.' + +'Dom the bay'nit,' said Learoyd, who had been listening intently. +'Look a-here!' He picked up a rifle an inch below the foresight with +an underhanded action, and used it exactly as a man would use a +dagger. + +'Sitha,' said he softly, 'thot's better than owt, for a mon can bash +t' faace wi' thot, an', if he divn't, he can breeak t' forearm o' t' +gaard. 'Tis not i' t' books, though. Gie me t' butt.' + +'Each does ut his own way, like makin' love,' said Mulvaney quietly; +'the butt or the bay'nit or the bullet accordin' to the natur' av the +man. Well, as I was sayin', we shtuck there breathin' in each other's +faces an' swearin' powerful; Orth'ris cursin' the mother that bore him +bekaze he was not three inches taller. + +'Prisintly he sez:--"Duck, ye lump, an' I can get at a man over your +shouldher!" + +'"You'll blow me head off," I sez, throwin' my arm clear; "go through +under my arm-pit, ye blood-thirsty little scutt," sez I, "but don't +shtick me or I'll wring your ears round." + +'Fwhat was ut ye gave the Paythan man forninst me, him that cut at me +whin I cudn't move hand or foot? Hot or cowld was ut?' + +'Cold,' said Ortheris, 'up an' under the rib-jint. 'E come down flat. +Best for you 'e did.' + +'Thrue, my son! This jam thing that I'm talkin' about lasted for five +minutes good, an' thin we got our arms clear an' wint in. I +misremimber exactly fwhat I did, but I didn't want Dinah to be a widdy +at the Depot. Thin, after some promishkuous hackin' we shtuck again, +an' the Tyrone behin' was callin' us dogs an' cowards an' all manner +av names; we barrin' their way. + +'"Fwhat ails the Tyrone?" thinks I; "they've the makin's av a most +convanient fight here." + +'A man behind me sez beseechful an' in a whisper:--"Let me get at +thim! For the love av Mary give me room beside ye, ye tall man!" + +'"An' who are you that's so anxious to be kilt?" sez I, widout turnin' +my head, for the long knives was dancin' in front like the sun on +Donegal Bay when ut's rough. + +'"We've seen our dead," he sez, squeezin' into me; "our dead that was +men two days gone! An' me that was his cousin by blood could not bring +Tim Coulan off? Let me get on," he sez, "let me get to thim or I'll +run ye through the back!" + +'"My troth," thinks I, "if the Tyrone have seen their dead, God help +the Paythans this day!" An' thin I knew why the Oirish was ragin' +behind us as they was. + +'I gave room to the man, an' he ran forward wid the Haymakers' Lift on +his bay'nit an' swung a Paythan clear off his feet by the belly-band +av the brute, an' the iron bruk at the lockin'-ring. + +'"Tim Coulan'll slape easy to-night," sez he wid a grin; an' the next +minut his head was in two halves and he wint down grinnin' by +sections. + +'The Tyrone was pushin' an' pushin' in, an' our men were swearin' at +thim, an' Crook was workin' away in front av us all, his sword-arm +swingin' like a pump-handle; an' his revolver spittin' like a cat. +But the strange thing av ut was the quiet that lay upon. 'Twas like a +fight in a drame--except for thim that was dead. + + [Illustration: 'He ran forward wid the Haymakers' Lift on his + bay'nit.'--P. 12.] + +'Whin I gave room to the Oirishman I was expinded an' forlorn in my +inside. 'Tis a way I have, savin' your presince, Sorr, in action. "Let +me out, bhoys," sez I, backin' in among thim. "I'm goin' to be +onwell!" Faith they gave me room at the wurrd, though they would not +ha' given room for all Hell wid the chill off. When I got clear, I +was, savin' your presince, Sorr, outragis sick bekaze I had dhrunk +heavy that day. + +'Well an' far out av harm was a Sargint av the Tyrone sittin' on the +little orf'cer bhoy who had stopped Crook from rowlin' the rocks. Oh, +he was a beautiful bhoy, an' the long black curses was sliding out av +his innocint mouth like morning-jew from a rose! + +'"Fwhat have you got there?" sez I to the Sargint. + +'"Wan av Her Majesty's bantams wid his spurs up," sez he. "He's goin' +to Coort-Martial me." + +'"Let me go!" sez the little orf'cer bhoy. "Let me go and command my +men!" manin' thereby the Black Tyrone which was beyond any +command--ay, even av they had made the Divil a Field-Orf'cer. + +'"His father howlds my mother's cow-feed in Clonmel," sez the man that +was sittin' on him. "Will I go back to _his_ mother an' tell her that +I've let him throw himself away? Lie still, ye little pinch av +dynamite, an' Coort-Martial me aftherwards." + +'"Good," sez I; "'tis the likes av him makes the likes av the +Commandher-in-Chief, but we must presarve thim. Fwhat d'you want to +do, Sorr?" sez I, very politeful. + +'"Kill the beggars--kill the beggars!" he shqueaks, his big blue eyes +brimmin' wid tears. + +'"An' how'll ye do that?" sez I. "You've shquibbed off your revolver +like a child wid a cracker; you can make no play wid that fine large +sword av yours; an' your hand's shakin' like an asp on a leaf. Lie +still and grow," sez I. + +'"Get back to your comp'ny," sez he; "you're insolint!" + +'"All in good time," sez I, "but I'll have a dhrink first." + +'Just thin Crook comes up, blue an' white all over where he wasn't +red. + +'"Wather!" sez he; "I'm dead wid drouth! Oh, but it's a gran' day!" + +'He dhrank half a skinful, and the rest he tilts into his chest, an' +it fair hissed on the hairy hide av him. He sees the little orf'cer +bhoy undher the Sargint. + +'"Fwhat's yonder?" sez he. + +'"Mutiny, Sorr," sez the Sargint, an' the orf'cer bhoy begins pleadin' +pitiful to Crook to be let go, but divil a bit wud Crook budge. + +'"Kape him there," he sez, "'tis no child's work this day. By the same +token," sez he, "I'll confishcate that iligant nickel-plated +scent-sprinkler av yours, for my own has been vomitin' dishgraceful!" + +'The fork av his hand was black wid the back-spit av the machine. So +he tuk the orf'cer bhoy's revolver. Ye may look, Sorr, but, by my +faith, _there's a dale more done in the field than iver gets into +Field Ordhers!_ + +'"Come on, Mulvaney," sez Crook; "is this a Coort-Martial?" The two av +us wint back together into the mess an' the Paythans were still +standin' up. They was not _too_ impart'nint though, for the Tyrone was +callin' wan to another to remimber Tim Coulan. + +'Crook stopped outside av the strife an' looked anxious, his eyes +rowlin' roun'. + +'"Fwhat is ut, Sorr?" sez I; "can I get ye anything?" + +'"Where's a bugler?" sez he. + +'I wint into the crowd--our men was dhrawin' breath behin' the Tyrone +who was fightin' like sowls in tormint--an' prisintly I came acrost +little Frehan, our bugler bhoy, pokin' roun' among the best wid a +rifle an' bay'nit. + +'"Is amusin' yoursilf fwhat you're paid for, ye limb?" sez I, catchin' +him by the scruff. "Come out av that an' attind to your duty," I sez; +but the bhoy was not pleased. + +'"I've got wan," sez he, grinnin', "big as you, Mulvaney, an' fair +half as ugly. Let me go get another." + +'I was dishpleased at the personability av that remark, so I tucks him +under my arm an' carries him to Crook who was watchin' how the fight +wint. Crook cuffs him till the bhoy cries, an' thin sez nothin' for a +whoile. + +'The Paythans began to flicker onaisy, an' our men roared. "Opin +ordher! Double!" sez Crook. "Blow, child, blow for the honour av the +British Arrmy!" + +'That bhoy blew like a typhoon, an' the Tyrone an' we opined out as +the Paythans broke, an' I saw that fwhat had gone before wud be +kissin' an' huggin' to fwhat was to come. We'd dhruv them into a broad +part av the gut whin they gave, an' thin we opined out an' fair danced +down the valley, dhrivin' thim before us. Oh, 'twas lovely, an' +stiddy, too! There was the Sargints on the flanks av what was left av +us, kapin' touch, an' the fire was runnin' from flank to flank, an' +the Paythans was dhroppin'. We opined out wid the widenin' av the +valley, an' whin the valley narrowed we closed again like the shticks +on a lady's fan, an' at the far ind av the gut where they thried to +stand, we fair blew them off their feet, for we had expinded very +little ammunition by reason av the knife work.' + +'Hi used thirty rounds goin' down that valley,' said Ortheris, 'an' it +was gentleman's work. Might 'a' done it in a white 'andkerchief an' +pink silk stockin's, that part. Hi was on in that piece.' + +'You could ha' heard the Tyrone yellin' a mile away,' said Mulvaney, +'an' 'twas all their Sargints cud do to get thim off. They was +mad--mad--mad! Crook sits down in the quiet that fell when we had gone +down the valley, an' covers his face wid his hands. Prisintly we all +came back again accordin' to our natures and disposishins, for they, +mark you, show through the hide av a man in that hour. + +'"Bhoys! bhoys!" sez Crook to himself. "I misdoubt we could ha' +engaged at long range an' saved betther men than me." He looked at our +dead an' said no more. + +'"Captain dear," sez a man av the Tyrone, comin' up wid his mouth +bigger than iver his mother kissed ut, spittin' blood like a whale; +"Captain dear," sez he, "if wan or two in the shtalls have been +discommoded, the gallery have enjoyed the performinces av a Roshus." + +'Thin I knew that man for the Dublin dock-rat he was--wan av the bhoys +that made the lessee av Silver's Theatre gray before his time wid +tearin' out the bowils av the benches an' t'rowin' thim into the pit. +So I passed the wurrud that I knew when I was in the Tyrone an' we lay +in Dublin. "I don't know who 'twas," I whispers, "an' I don't care, +but anyways I'll knock the face av you, Tim Kelly." + +'"Eyah!" sez the man, "was you there too? We'll call ut Silver's +Theatre." Half the Tyrone, knowin' the ould place, tuk ut up: so we +called ut Silver's Theatre. + +'The little orf'cer bhoy av the Tyrone was thremblin' an' cryin'. He +had no heart for the Coort-Martials that he talked so big upon. "Ye'll +do well later," sez Crook very quiet, "for not bein' allowed to kill +yourself for amusemint." + +'"I'm a dishgraced man!" sez the little orf'cer bhoy. + +'"Put me undher arrest, Sorr, if you will, but, by my sowl, I'd do ut +again sooner than face your mother wid you dead," sez the Sargint that +had sat on his head, standin' to attention an' salutin'. But the young +wan only cried as tho' his little heart was breakin'. + +'Thin another man av the Tyrone came up, wid the fog av fightin' on +him.' + +'The what, Mulvaney?' + +'Fog av fightin'. You know, Sorr, that, like makin' love, ut takes +each man diff'rint. Now I can't help bein' powerful sick whin I'm in +action. Orth'ris, here, niver stops swearin' from ind to ind, an' the +only time that Learoyd opins his mouth to sing is whin he is messin' +wid other people's heads; for he's a dhirty fighter is Jock. +Recruities sometime cry, an' sometime they don't know fwhat they do, +an' sometime they are all for cuttin' throats an' such-like dirtiness; +but some men get heavy-dead-dhrunk on the fightin'. This man was. He +was staggerin', an' his eyes were half-shut, an' we cud hear him dhraw +breath twinty yards away. He sees the little orf'cer bhoy, an' comes +up, talkin' thick an' drowsy to himsilf. "Blood the young whelp!" he +sez; "blood the young whelp;" an' wid that he threw up his arms, shpun +roun', an' dropped at our feet, dead as a Paythan, an' there was niver +sign or scratch on him. They said 'twas his heart was rotten, but oh, +'twas a quare thing to see! + +'Thin we went to bury our dead, for we wud not lave thim to the +Paythans, an' in movin' among the haythen we nearly lost that little +orf'cer bhoy. He was for givin' wan divil wather and layin' him aisy +against a rock. "Be careful, Sorr," sez I; "a wounded Paythan's worse +than a live wan." My troth, before the words was out of my mouth, the +man on the ground fires at the orf'cer bhoy lanin' over him, an' I saw +the helmit fly. I dropped the butt on the face av the man an' tuk his +pistol. The little orf'cer bhoy turned very white, for the hair av +half his head was singed away. + +'"I tould you so, Sorr," sez I; an', afther that, when he wanted to +help a Paythan I stud wid the muzzle contagious to the ear. They dare +not do anythin' but curse. The Tyrone was growlin' like dogs over a +bone that has been taken away too soon, for they had seen their dead +an' they wanted to kill ivry sowl on the ground. Crook tould thim that +he'd blow the hide off any man that misconducted himself; but, seeing +that ut was the first time the Tyrone had iver seen their dead, I do +not wondher they were on the sharp. 'Tis a shameful sight! Whin I +first saw ut I wud niver ha' given quarter to any man not of the +Khaibar--no, nor woman either, for the women used to come out afther +dhark--Auggrh! + +'Well, evenshually we buried our dead an' tuk away our wounded, an' +come over the brow av the hills to see the Scotchies an' the Gurkys +taking tay with the Paythans in bucketsfuls. We were a gang av +dissolute ruffians, for the blood had caked the dust, an' the sweat +had cut the cake, an' our bay'nits was hangin' like butchers' steels +betune ur legs, an' most av us were marked one way or another. + +'A Staff Orf'cer man, clean as a new rifle, rides up an' sez: "What +damned scarecrows are you?" + +'"A comp'ny av Her Majesty's Black Tyrone an' wan av the Ould +Rig'mint," sez Crook very quiet, givin' our visitors the flure as +'twas. + +'"Oh!" sez the Staff Orf'cer; "did you dislodge that Reserve?" + +'"No!" sez Crook, an' the Tyrone laughed. + +'"Thin fwhat the divil have ye done?" + +'"Disthroyed ut," sez Crook, an' he took us on, but not before Toomey +that was in the Tyrone sez aloud, his voice somewhere in his stummick: +"Fwhat in the name av misfortune does this parrit widout a tail mane +by shtoppin' the road av his betthers?" + +'The Staff Orf'cer wint blue, an' Toomey makes him pink by changin' to +the voice av a minowderin' woman an' sayin': "Come an' kiss me, Major +dear, for me husband's at the wars an' I'm all alone at the Depot." + +'The Staff Orf'cer wint away, an' I cud see Crook's shoulthers +shakin'. + +'His Corp'ril checks Toomey. "Lave me alone," sez Toomey, widout a +wink. "I was his bātman before he was married an' he knows fwhat I +mane, av you don't. There's nothin' like livin' in the hoight av +society." D'you remimber that, Orth'ris!' + +'Hi do. Toomey, 'e died in 'orspital, next week it was, 'cause I +bought 'arf his kit; an' I remember after that----' + +'GUARRD, TURN OUT!' + +The Relief had come; it was four o'clock. 'I'll catch a kyart for you, +Sorr,' said Mulvaney, diving hastily into his accoutrements. 'Come up +to the top av the Fort an' we'll pershue our invistigations into +M'Grath's shtable.' The relieved guard strolled round the main bastion +on its way to the swimming-bath, and Learoyd grew almost talkative. +Ortheris looked into the Fort ditch and across the plain. 'Ho! it's +weary waitin' for Ma-ary!' he hummed; 'but I'd like to kill some more +bloomin' Paythans before my time's up. War! Bloody war! North, East, +South, and West.' + +'Amen,' said Learoyd slowly. + +'Fwhat's here?' said Mulvaney, checking at a blur of white by the foot +of the old sentry-box. He stooped and touched it. 'It's Norah--Norah +M'Taggart! Why, Nonie darlin', fwhat are ye doin' out av your mother's +bed at this time?' + +The two-year-old child of Sergeant M'Taggart must have wandered for a +breath of cool air to the very verge of the parapet of the Fort ditch. +Her tiny night-shift was gathered into a wisp round her neck and she +moaned in her sleep. 'See there!' said Mulvaney; 'poor lamb! Look at +the heat-rash on the innocint skin av her. 'Tis hard--crool hard +even for us. Fwhat must it be for these? Wake up, Nonie, your mother +will be woild about you. Begad, the child might ha' fallen into the +ditch!' + + [Illustration: He picked her up in the growing light, and set + her on his shoulder.--P. 23.] + +He picked her up in the growing light, and set her on his shoulder, +and her fair curls touched the grizzled stubble of his temples. +Ortheris and Learoyd followed snapping their fingers, while Norah +smiled at them a sleepy smile. Then carolled Mulvaney, clear as a +lark, dancing the baby on his arm:-- + + 'If any young man should marry you, + Say nothin' about the joke; + That iver ye slep' in a sinthry-box, + Wrapped up in a soldier's cloak. + +'Though, on my sowl, Nonie,' he said gravely, 'there was not much +cloak about you. Niver mind, you won't dhress like this ten years to +come. Kiss your friends an' run along to your mother.' + +Nonie, set down close to the Married Quarters, nodded with the quiet +obedience of the soldier's child, but, ere she pattered off over the +flagged path, held up her lips to be kissed by the Three Musketeers. +Ortheris wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and swore +sentimentally; Learoyd turned pink; and the two walked away together. +The Yorkshireman lifted up his voice and gave in thunder the chorus of +_The Sentry Box_, while Ortheris piped at his side. + +''Bin to a bloomin' sing-song, you two?' said the Artilleryman, who +was taking his cartridge down to the Morning Gun. 'You're over merry +for these dashed days.' + + 'I bid ye take care o' the brat, said he, + For it comes of a noble race,' + +Learoyd bellowed. The voices died out in the swimming-bath. + +'Oh, Terence!' I said, dropping into Mulvaney's speech, when we were +alone, 'it's you that have the Tongue!' + +He looked at me wearily; his eyes were sunk in his head, and his face +was drawn and white. 'Eyah!' said he; 'I've blandandhered thim through +the night somehow, but can thim that helps others help thimselves? +Answer me that, Sorr!' + +And over the bastions of Fort Amara broke the pitiless day. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] + + Now first of the foemen of Boh Da Thone + Was Captain O'Neil of the Black Tyrone. + _The Ballad of Boh Da Thone._ + + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE DRUMS OF THE FORE AND AFT + + +In the Army List they still stand as 'The Fore and Fit Princess +Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen-Auspach's Merthyr-Tydfilshire Own Royal Loyal +Light Infantry, Regimental District 329A,' but the Army through all +its barracks and canteens knows them now as the 'Fore and Aft.' They +may in time do something that shall make their new title honourable, +but at present they are bitterly ashamed, and the man who calls them +'Fore and Aft' does so at the risk of the head which is on his +shoulders. + +Two words breathed into the stables of a certain Cavalry Regiment will +bring the men out into the streets with belts and mops and bad +language; but a whisper of 'Fore and Aft' will bring out this regiment +with rifles. + +Their one excuse is that they came again and did their best to finish +the job in style. But for a time all their world knows that they were +openly beaten, whipped, dumb-cowed, shaking, and afraid. The men know +it; their officers know it; the Horse Guards know it, and when the +next war comes the enemy will know it also. There are two or three +regiments of the Line that have a black mark against their names which +they will then wipe out; and it will be excessively inconvenient for +the troops upon whom they do their wiping. + +The courage of the British soldier is officially supposed to be above +proof, and, as a general rule, it is so. The exceptions are decently +shovelled out of sight, only to be referred to in the freshest of +unguarded talk that occasionally swamps a Mess-table at midnight. Then +one hears strange and horrible stories of men not following their +officers, of orders being given by those who had no right to give +them, and of disgrace that, but for the standing luck of the British +Army, might have ended in brilliant disaster. These are unpleasant +stories to listen to, and the Messes tell them under their breath, +sitting by the big wood fires; and the young officer bows his head and +thinks to himself, please God, his men shall never behave unhandily. + +The British soldier is not altogether to be blamed for occasional +lapses; but this verdict he should not know. A moderately intelligent +General will waste six months in mastering the craft of the particular +war that he may be waging; a Colonel may utterly misunderstand the +capacity of his regiment for three months after it has taken the +field; and even a Company Commander may err and be deceived as to the +temper and temperament of his own handful: wherefore the soldier, and +the soldier of to-day more particularly, should not be blamed for +falling back. He should be shot or hanged afterwards--to encourage the +others; but he should not be vilified in newspapers, for that is want +of tact and waste of space. + +He has, let us say, been in the service of the Empress for, perhaps, +four years. He will leave in another two years. He has no inherited +morals, and four years are not sufficient to drive toughness into his +fibre, or to teach him how holy a thing is his Regiment. He wants to +drink, he wants to enjoy himself--in India he wants to save money--and +he does not in the least like getting hurt. He has received just +sufficient education to make him understand half the purport of the +orders he receives, and to speculate on the nature of clean, incised, +and shattering wounds. Thus, if he is told to deploy under fire +preparatory to an attack, he knows that he runs a very great risk of +being killed while he is deploying, and suspects that he is being +thrown away to gain ten minutes' time. He may either deploy with +desperate swiftness, or he may shuffle, or bunch, or break, according +to the discipline under which he has lain for four years. + +Armed with imperfect knowledge, cursed with the rudiments of an +imagination, hampered by the intense selfishness of the lower classes, +and unsupported by any regimental associations, this young man is +suddenly introduced to an enemy who in eastern lands is always ugly, +generally tall and hairy, and frequently noisy. If he looks to the +right and the left and sees old soldiers--men of twelve years' +service, who, he knows, know what they are about--taking a charge, +rush, or demonstration without embarrassment, he is consoled and +applies his shoulder to the butt of his rifle with a stout heart. His +peace is the greater if he hears a senior, who has taught him his +soldiering and broken his head on occasion, whispering: 'They'll shout +and carry on like this for five minutes. Then they'll rush in, and +then we've got 'em by the short hairs!' + +But, on the other hand, if he sees only men of his own term of +service, turning white and playing with their triggers and saying: +'What the Hell's up now?' while the Company Commanders are sweating +into their sword-hilts and shouting: 'Front-rank, fix bayonets. Steady +there--steady! Sight for three hundred--no, for five! Lie down, all! +Steady! Front-rank kneel!' and so forth, he becomes unhappy; and grows +acutely miserable when he hears a comrade turn over with the rattle of +fire-irons falling into the fender, and the grunt of a pole-axed ox. +If he can be moved about a little and allowed to watch the effect of +his own fire on the enemy he feels merrier, and may be then worked up +to the blind passion of fighting, which is, contrary to general +belief, controlled by a chilly Devil and shakes men like ague. If he +is not moved about, and begins to feel cold at the pit of the stomach, +and in that crisis is badly mauled and hears orders that were never +given, he will break, and he will break badly; and of all things under +the light of the Sun there is nothing more terrible than a broken +British regiment. When the worst comes to the worst and the panic is +really epidemic, the men must be e'en let go, and the Company +Commanders had better escape to the enemy and stay there for safety's +sake. If they can be made to come again they are not pleasant men to +meet; because they will not break twice. + +About thirty years from this date, when we have succeeded in +half-educating everything that wears trousers, our Army will be a +beautifully unreliable machine. It will know too much and it will do +too little. Later still, when all men are at the mental level of the +officer of to-day, it will sweep the earth. Speaking roughly, you must +employ either blackguards or gentlemen, or, best of all, blackguards +commanded by gentlemen, to do butcher's work with efficiency and +despatch. The ideal soldier should, of course, think for himself--the +_Pocket-book_ says so. Unfortunately, to attain this virtue he has to +pass through the phase of thinking of himself, and that is misdirected +genius. A blackguard may be slow to think for himself, but he is +genuinely anxious to kill, and a little punishment teaches him how to +guard his own skin and perforate another's. A powerfully prayerful +Highland Regiment, officered by rank Presbyterians, is, perhaps, one +degree more terrible in action than a hard-bitten thousand of +irresponsible Irish ruffians led by most improper young unbelievers. +But these things prove the rule--which is that the midway men are not +to be trusted alone. They have ideas about the value of life and an +upbringing that has not taught them to go on and take the chances. +They are carefully unprovided with a backing of comrades who have been +shot over, and until that backing is re-introduced, as a great many +Regimental Commanders intend it shall be, they are more liable to +disgrace themselves than the size of the Empire or the dignity of the +Army allows. Their officers are as good as good can be, because their +training begins early, and God has arranged that a clean-run youth of +the British middle classes shall, in the matter of backbone, brains, +and bowels, surpass all other youths. For this reason a child of +eighteen will stand up, doing nothing, with a tin sword in his hand +and joy in his heart until he is dropped. If he dies, he dies like a +gentleman. If he lives, he writes Home that he has been 'potted,' +'sniped,' 'chipped,' or 'cut over,' and sits down to besiege +Government for a wound-gratuity until the next little war breaks out, +when he perjures himself before a Medical Board, blarneys his Colonel, +burns incense round his Adjutant, and is allowed to go to the Front +once more. + +Which homily brings me directly to a brace of the most finished little +fiends that ever banged drum or tootled fife in the Band of a British +Regiment. They ended their sinful career by open and flagrant mutiny +and were shot for it. Their names were Jakin and Lew--Piggy Lew--and +they were bold, bad drummer-boys, both of them frequently birched by +the Drum-Major of the Fore and Aft. + +Jakin was a stunted child of fourteen, and Lew was about the same age. +When not looked after, they smoked and drank. They swore habitually +after the manner of the Barrack-room, which is cold-swearing and comes +from between clinched teeth; and they fought religiously once a week. +Jakin had sprung from some London gutter, and may or may not have +passed through Dr. Barnardo's hands ere he arrived at the dignity of +drummer-boy. Lew could remember nothing except the Regiment and the +delight of listening to the Band from his earliest years. He hid +somewhere in his grimy little soul a genuine love for music, and was +most mistakenly furnished with the head of a cherub: insomuch that +beautiful ladies who watched the Regiment in church were wont to speak +of him as a 'darling.' They never heard his vitriolic comments on +their manners and morals, as he walked back to barracks with the Band +and matured fresh causes of offence against Jakin. + +The other drummer-boys hated both lads on account of their illogical +conduct. Jakin might be pounding Lew, or Lew might be rubbing Jakin's +head in the dirt, but any attempt at aggression on the part of an +outsider was met by the combined forces of Lew and Jakin; and the +consequences were painful. The boys were the Ishmaels of the corps, +but wealthy Ishmaels, for they sold battles in alternate weeks for the +sport of the barracks when they were not pitted against other boys; +and thus amassed money. + +On this particular day there was dissension in the camp. They had just +been convicted afresh of smoking, which is bad for little boys who use +plug-tobacco, and Lew's contention was that Jakin had 'stunk so 'orrid +bad from keepin' the pipe in pocket,' that he and he alone was +responsible for the birching they were both tingling under. + +'I tell you I 'id the pipe back o' barracks,' said Jakin pacifically. + +'You're a bloomin' liar,' said Lew without heat. + +'You're a bloomin' little barstard,' said Jakin, strong in the +knowledge that his own ancestry was unknown. + +Now there is one word in the extended vocabulary of barrack-room abuse +that cannot pass without comment. You may call a man a thief and risk +nothing. You may even call him a coward without finding more than a +boot whiz past your ear, but you must not call a man a bastard unless +you are prepared to prove it on his front teeth. + +'You might ha' kep' that till I wasn't so sore,' said Lew sorrowfully, +dodging round Jakin's guard. + +'I'll make you sorer,' said Jakin genially, and got home on Lew's +alabaster forehead. All would have gone well and this story, as the +books say, would never have been written, had not his evil fate +prompted the Bazar-Sergeant's son, a long, employless man of +five-and-twenty, to put in an appearance after the first round. He was +eternally in need of money, and knew that the boys had silver. + +'Fighting again,' said he. 'I'll report you to my father, and he'll +report you to the Colour-Sergeant.' + +'What's that to you?' said Jakin with an unpleasant dilation of the +nostrils. + +'Oh! nothing to _me_. You'll get into trouble, and you've been up too +often to afford that.' + +'What the Hell do you know about what we've done?' asked Lew the +Seraph. '_You_ aren't in the Army, you lousy, cadging civilian.' + +He closed in on the man's left flank. + +'Jes' 'cause you find two gentlemen settlin' their diff'rences with +their fistes you stick in your ugly nose where you aren't wanted. Run +'ome to your 'arf-caste slut of a Ma--or we'll give you what-for,' +said Jakin. + +The man attempted reprisals by knocking the boys' heads together. The +scheme would have succeeded had not Jakin punched him vehemently in +the stomach, or had Lew refrained from kicking his shins. They fought +together, bleeding and breathless, for half an hour, and, after heavy +punishment, triumphantly pulled down their opponent as terriers pull +down a jackal. + +'Now,' gasped Jakin, 'I'll give you what-for.' He proceeded to pound +the man's features while Lew stamped on the outlying portions of his +anatomy. Chivalry is not a strong point in the composition of the +average drummer-boy. He fights, as do his betters, to make his mark. + +Ghastly was the ruin that escaped, and awful was the wrath of the +Bazar-Sergeant. Awful, too, was the scene in Orderly-room when the two +reprobates appeared to answer the charge of half-murdering a +'civilian.' The Bazar-Sergeant thirsted for a criminal action, and his +son lied. The boys stood to attention while the black clouds of +evidence accumulated. + + [Illustration: 'Hey! What? Are you going to argue with _me_?' + said the Colonel.--P. 35.] + +'You little devils are more trouble than the rest of the Regiment put +together,' said the Colonel angrily. 'One might as well admonish +thistledown, and I can't well put you in cells or under stoppages. You +must be birched again.' + +'Beg y' pardon, Sir. Can't we say nothin' in our own defence, Sir?' +shrilled Jakin. + +'Hey! What? Are you going to argue with _me_?' said the Colonel. + +'No, Sir,' said Lew. 'But if a man come to you, Sir, and said he was +going to report you, Sir, for 'aving a bit of a turn-up with a friend, +Sir, an' wanted to get money out o' _you_, Sir--' + +The Orderly-room exploded in a roar of laughter. 'Well?' said the +Colonel. + +'That was what that measly _jarnwar_ there did, Sir, and 'e'd 'a' +_done_ it, Sir, if we 'adn't prevented 'im. We didn't 'it 'im much, +Sir. 'E 'adn't no manner o' right to interfere with us, Sir. I don't +mind bein' birched by the Drum-Major, Sir, nor yet reported by _any_ +Corp'ral, but I'm--but I don't think it's fair, Sir, for a civilian to +come an' talk over a man in the Army.' + +A second shout of laughter shook the Orderly-room, but the Colonel was +grave. + +'What sort of characters have these boys?' he asked of the Regimental +Sergeant-Major. + +'Accordin' to the Bandmaster, Sir,' returned that revered +official--the only soul in the regiment whom the boys feared--'they do +everything _but_ lie, Sir.' + +'Is it like we'd go for that man for fun, Sir?' said Lew, pointing to +the plaintiff. + +'Oh, admonished--admonished!' said the Colonel testily, and when the +boys had gone he read the Bazar-Sergeant's son a lecture on the sin of +unprofitable meddling, and gave orders that the Bandmaster should keep +the Drums in better discipline. + +'If either of you comes to practice again with so much as a scratch on +your two ugly little faces,' thundered the Bandmaster, 'I'll tell the +Drum-Major to take the skin off your backs. Understand that, you young +devils.' + +Then he repented of his speech for just the length of time that Lew, +looking like a Seraph in red worsted embellishments, took the place of +one of the trumpets--in hospital--and rendered the echo of a +battle-piece. Lew certainly was a musician, and had often in his more +exalted moments expressed a yearning to master every instrument of the +Band. + +'There's nothing to prevent your becoming a Bandmaster, Lew,' said +the Bandmaster, who had composed waltzes of his own, and worked day +and night in the interests of the Band. + +'What did he say?' demanded Jakin after practice. + +''Said I might be a bloomin' Bandmaster, an' be asked in to 'ave a +glass o' sherry-wine on Mess-nights.' + +'Ho! 'Said you might be a bloomin' non-combatant, did 'e! That's just +about wot 'e would say. When I've put in my boy's service--it's a +bloomin' shame that doesn't count for pension--I'll take on as a +privit. Then I'll be a Lance in a year--knowin' what I know about the +ins an' outs o' things. In three years I'll be a bloomin' Sergeant. I +won't marry then, not I! I'll 'old on and learn the orf'cers' ways an' +apply for exchange into a reg'ment that doesn't know all about me. +Then I'll be a bloomin' orf'cer. Then I'll ask you to 'ave a glass o' +sherry-wine, _Mister_ Lew, an' you'll bloomin' well 'ave to stay in +the hanty-room while the Mess-Sergeant brings it to your dirty 'ands.' + +''S'pose I'm going to be a Bandmaster? Not I, quite. I'll be a orf'cer +too. There's nothin' like takin' to a thing an' stickin' to it, the +Schoolmaster says. The reg'ment don't go 'ome for another seven years. +I'll be a Lance then or near to.' + +Thus the boys discussed their futures, and conducted themselves +piously for a week. That is to say, Lew started a flirtation with the +Colour-Sergeant's daughter, aged thirteen--'not,' as he explained to +Jakin, 'with any intention o' matrimony, but by way o' keepin' my 'and +in.' And the black-haired Cris Delighan enjoyed that flirtation more +than previous ones, and the other drummer-boys raged furiously +together, and Jakin preached sermons on the dangers of 'bein' tangled +along o' petticoats.' + +But neither love nor virtue would have held Lew long in the paths of +propriety had not the rumour gone abroad that the Regiment was to be +sent on active service, to take part in a war which, for the sake of +brevity, we will call 'The War of the Lost Tribes.' + +The barracks had the rumour almost before the Mess-room, and of all +the nine hundred men in barracks not ten had seen a shot fired in +anger. The Colonel had, twenty years ago, assisted at a Frontier +expedition; one of the Majors had seen service at the Cape; a +confirmed deserter in E Company had helped to clear streets in +Ireland; but that was all. The Regiment had been put by for many +years. The overwhelming mass of its rank and file had from three to +four years' service; the non-commissioned officers were under thirty +years old; and men and sergeants alike had forgotten to speak of the +stories written in brief upon the Colours--the New Colours that had +been formally blessed by an Archbishop in England ere the Regiment +came away. + +They wanted to go to the Front--they were enthusiastically anxious to +go--but they had no knowledge of what war meant, and there was none to +tell them. They were an educated regiment, the percentage of +school-certificates in their ranks was high, and most of the men could +do more than read and write. They had been recruited in loyal +observance of the territorial idea; but they themselves had no notion +of that idea. They were made up of drafts from an over-populated +manufacturing district. The system had put flesh and muscle upon their +small bones, but it could not put heart into the sons of those who for +generations had done overmuch work for over-scanty pay, had sweated in +drying-rooms, stooped over looms, coughed among white-lead, and +shivered on lime-barges. The men had found food and rest in the Army, +and now they were going to fight 'niggers'--people who ran away if you +shook a stick at them. Wherefore they cheered lustily when the rumour +ran, and the shrewd, clerkly non-commissioned officers speculated on +the chances of batta and of saving their pay. At Headquarters men +said: 'The Fore and Fit have never been under fire within the last +generation. Let us, therefore, break them in easily by setting them to +guard lines of communication.' And this would have been done but for +the fact that British Regiments were wanted--badly wanted--at the +Front, and there were doubtful Native Regiments that could fill the +minor duties. 'Brigade 'em with two strong Regiments,' said +Headquarters. 'They may be knocked about a bit, though they'll learn +their business before they come through. Nothing like a night-alarm +and a little cutting up of stragglers to make a Regiment smart in the +field. Wait till they've had half-a-dozen sentries' throats cut.' + +The Colonel wrote with delight that the temper of his men was +excellent, that the Regiment was all that could be wished and as sound +as a bell. The Majors smiled with a sober joy, and the subalterns +waltzed in pairs down the Mess-room after dinner, and nearly shot +themselves at revolver-practice. But there was consternation in the +hearts of Jakin and Lew. What was to be done with the Drums? Would the +Band go to the Front? How many of the Drums would accompany the +Regiment? + +They took counsel together, sitting in a tree and smoking. + +'It's more than a bloomin' toss-up they'll leave us be'ind at the +Depot with the women. You'll like that,' said Jakin sarcastically. + +''Cause o' Cris, y' mean? Wot's a woman, or a 'ole bloomin' depot o' +women, 'longside o' the chanst of field-service? You know I'm as keen +on goin' as you,' said Lew. + +''Wish I was a bloomin' bugler,' said Jakin sadly. 'They'll take Tom +Kidd along, that I can plaster a wall with, an' like as not they won't +take us.' + +'Then let's go an' make Tom Kidd so bloomin' sick 'e can't bugle no +more. You 'old 'is 'ands an' I'll kick him,' said Lew, wriggling on +the branch. + +'That ain't no good neither. We ain't the sort o' characters to +presoom on our rep'tations--they're bad. If they leave the Band at the +Depot we don't go, and no error _there_. If they take the Band we may +get cast for medical unfitness. Are you medical fit, Piggy?' said +Jakin, digging Lew in the ribs with force. + +'Yus,' said Lew with an oath. 'The Doctor says your 'eart's weak +through smokin' on an empty stummick. Throw a chest an' I'll try yer.' + +Jakin threw out his chest, which Lew smote with all his might. Jakin +turned very pale, gasped, crowed, screwed up his eyes, and +said--'That's all right.' + +'You'll do,' said Lew. 'I've 'eard o' men dyin' when you 'it 'em fair +on the breastbone.' + +'Don't bring us no nearer goin', though,' said Jakin. 'Do you know +where we're ordered?' + +'Gawd knows, an' 'E won't split on a pal. Somewheres up to the Front +to kill Paythans--hairy big beggars that turn you inside out if they +get 'old o' you. They say their women are good-looking, too.' + +'Any loot?' asked the abandoned Jakin. + +'Not a bloomin' anna, they say, unless you dig up the ground an' see +what the niggers 'ave 'id. They're a poor lot.' Jakin stood upright on +the branch and gazed across the plain. + +'Lew,' said he, 'there's the Colonel coming. 'Colonel's a good old +beggar. Let's go an' talk to 'im.' + +Lew nearly fell out of the tree at the audacity of the suggestion. +Like Jakin he feared not God, neither regarded he Man, but there are +limits even to the audacity of drummer-boy, and to speak to a Colonel +was---- + +But Jakin had slid down the trunk and doubled in the direction of the +Colonel. That officer was walking wrapped in thought and visions of a +C.B.--yes, even a K.C.B., for had he not at command one of the best +Regiments of the Line--the Fore and Fit? And he was aware of two small +boys charging down upon him. Once before it had been solemnly reported +to him that 'the Drums were in a state of mutiny,' Jakin and Lew being +the ringleaders. This looked like an organised conspiracy. + +The boys halted at twenty yards, walked to the regulation four paces, +and saluted together, each as well-set-up as a ramrod and little +taller. + +The Colonel was in a genial mood; the boys appeared very forlorn and +unprotected on the desolate plain, and one of them was handsome. + +'Well!' said the Colonel, recognising them. 'Are you going to pull me +down in the open? I'm sure I never interfere with you, even +though'--he sniffed suspiciously--'you have been smoking.' + +It was time to strike while the iron was hot. Their hearts beat +tumultuously. + +'Beg y' pardon, Sir,' began Jakin. 'The Reg'ment's ordered on active +service, Sir?' + +'So I believe,' said the Colonel courteously. + +'Is the Band goin', Sir?' said both together. Then, without pause, +'We're goin', Sir, ain't we?' + +'You!' said the Colonel, stepping back the more fully to take in the +two small figures. 'You! You'd die in the first march.' + +'No, we wouldn't, Sir. We can march with the Reg'ment +anywheres--p'rade an' anywhere else,' said Jakin. + +'If Tom Kidd goes 'e'll shut up like a clasp-knife,' said Lew. 'Tom +'as very-close veins in both 'is legs, Sir.' + +'Very how much?' + +'Very-close veins, Sir. That's why they swells after long p'rade, +Sir. If 'e can go, we can go, Sir.' + +Again the Colonel looked at them long and intently. + +'Yes, the Band is going,' he said as gravely as though he had been +addressing a brother officer. 'Have you any parents, either of you +two?' + +'No, Sir,' rejoicingly from Lew and Jakin. 'We're both orphans, Sir. +There's no one to be considered of on our account, Sir.' + +'You poor little sprats, and you want to go up to the Front with the +Regiment, do you? Why?' + +'I've wore the Queen's Uniform for two years,' said Jakin. 'It's very +'ard, Sir, that a man don't get no recompense for doin' of 'is dooty, +Sir.' + +'An'--an' if I don't go, Sir,' interrupted Lew, 'the Bandmaster 'e +says 'e'll catch an' make a bloo--a blessed musician o' me, Sir. +Before I've seen any service, Sir.' + +The Colonel made no answer for a long time. Then he said quietly: 'If +you're passed by the Doctor I daresay you can go. I shouldn't smoke if +I were you.' + +The boys saluted and disappeared. The Colonel walked home and told the +story to his wife, who nearly cried over it. The Colonel was well +pleased. If that was the temper of the children, what would not the +men do? + +Jakin and Lew entered the boys' barrack-room with great stateliness, +and refused to hold any conversation with their comrades for at least +ten minutes. Then, bursting with pride, Jakin drawled: 'I've bin +intervooin' the Colonel. Good old beggar is the Colonel. Says I to +'im, "Colonel," says I, "let me go to the Front, along o' the +Reg'ment."--"To the Front you shall go," says 'e, "an' I only wish +there was more like you among the dirty little devils that bang the +bloomin' drums." Kidd, if you throw your 'courtrements at me for +tellin' you the truth to your own advantage, your legs'll swell.' + +None the less there was a Battle-Royal in the barrack-room, for the +boys were consumed with envy and hate, and neither Jakin nor Lew +behaved in conciliatory wise. + +'I'm goin' out to say adoo to my girl,' said Lew, to cap the climax. +'Don't none o' you touch my kit because it's wanted for active +service; me bein' specially invited to go by the Colonel.' + +He strolled forth and whistled in the clump of trees at the back of +the Married Quarters till Cris came to him, and, the preliminary +kisses being given and taken, Lew began to explain the situation. + +'I'm goin' to the Front with the Reg'ment,' he said valiantly. + +'Piggy, you're a little liar,' said Cris, but her heart misgave her, +for Lew was not in the habit of lying. + +'Liar yourself, Cris,' said Lew, slipping an arm round her. 'I'm +goin'. When the Reg'ment marches out you'll see me with 'em, all +galliant and gay. Give us another kiss, Cris, on the strength of it.' + +'If you'd on'y a-stayed at the Depot--where you _ought_ to ha' +bin--you could get as many of 'em as--as you dam please,' whimpered +Cris, putting up her mouth. + +'It's 'ard, Cris. I grant you it's 'ard. But what's a man to do? If +I'd a-stayed at the Depot, you wouldn't think anything of me.' + +'Like as not, but I'd 'ave you with me, Piggy. An' all the thinkin' in +the world isn't like kissin'.' + +'An' all the kissin' in the world isn't like 'avin' a medal to wear on +the front o' your coat.' + +'_You_ won't get no medal.' + +'Oh yus, I shall though. Me an' Jakin are the only acting-drummers +that'll be took along. All the rest is full men, an' we'll get our +medals with them.' + +'They might ha' taken anybody but you, Piggy. You'll get +killed--you're so venturesome. Stay with me, Piggy darlin', down at +the Depot, an' I'll love you true for ever.' + +'Ain't you goin' to do that _now_, Cris? You said you was.' + +'O' course I am, but th' other's more comfortable. Wait till you've +growed a bit, Piggy. You aren't no taller than me now.' + + [Illustration: Cris slid an arm round his neck.--P. 47.] + +'I've bin in the Army for two years an' I'm not goin' to get out of a +chanst o' seein' service, an' don't you try to make me do so. I'll +come back, Cris, an' when I take on as a man I'll marry you--marry you +when I'm a Lance.' + +'Promise, Piggy?' + +Lew reflected on the future as arranged by Jakin a short time +previously, but Cris's mouth was very near to his own. + +'I promise, s'elp me Gawd!' said he. + +Cris slid an arm round his neck. + +'I won't 'old you back no more, Piggy. Go away an' get your medal, an' +I'll make you a new button-bag as nice as I know how,' she whispered. + +'Put some o' your 'air into it, Cris, an' I'll keep it in my pocket so +long's I'm alive.' + +Then Cris wept anew, and the interview ended. + +Public feeling among the drummer-boys rose to fever pitch and the +lives of Jakin and Lew became unenviable. Not only had they been +permitted to enlist two years before the regulation boy's +age--fourteen--but, by virtue, it seemed, of their extreme youth, they +were allowed to go to the Front--which thing had not happened to +acting-drummers within the knowledge of boy. The Band which was to +accompany the Regiment had been cut down to the regulation twenty +men, the surplus returning to the ranks. Jakin and Lew were attached +to the Band as supernumeraries, though they would much have preferred +being Company buglers. + +''Don't matter much,' said Jakin after the medical inspection. 'Be +thankful that we're 'lowed to go at all. The Doctor 'e said that if we +could stand what we took from the Bazar-Sergeant's son we'd stand +pretty nigh anything.' + +'Which we will,' said Lew, looking tenderly at the ragged and ill-made +housewife that Cris had given him, with a lock of her hair worked into +a sprawling 'L' upon the cover. + +'It was the best I could,' she sobbed. 'I wouldn't let mother nor the +Sergeants' tailor 'elp me. Keep it always, Piggy, an' remember I love +you true.' + +They marched to the railway station, nine hundred and sixty strong, +and every soul in cantonments turned out to see them go. The drummers +gnashed their teeth at Jakin and Lew marching with the Band, the +married women wept upon the platform, and the Regiment cheered its +noble self black in the face. + +'A nice level lot,' said the Colonel to the Second-in-Command as they +watched the first four companies entraining. + +'Fit to do anything,' said the Second-in-Command enthusiastically. +'But it seems to me they're a thought too young and tender for the +work in hand. It's bitter cold up at the Front now.' + +'They're sound enough,' said the Colonel. 'We must take our chance of +sick casualties.' + +So they went northward, ever northward, past droves and droves of +camels, armies of camp followers, and legions of laden mules, the +throng thickening day by day, till with a shriek the train pulled up +at a hopelessly congested junction where six lines of temporary track +accommodated six forty-waggon trains; where whistles blew, Babus +sweated, and Commissariat officers swore from dawn till far into the +night amid the wind-driven chaff of the fodder-bales and the lowing of +a thousand steers. + +'Hurry up--you're badly wanted at the Front,' was the message that +greeted the Fore and Aft, and the occupants of the Red Cross carriages +told the same tale. + +''Tisn't so much the bloomin' fightin',' gasped a headbound trooper of +Hussars to a knot of admiring Fore and Afts. ''Tisn't so much the +bloomin' fightin', though there's enough o' that. It's the bloomin' +food an' the bloomin' climate. Frost all night 'cept when it hails, +and biling sun all day, and the water stinks fit to knock you down. I +got my 'ead chipped like a egg; I've got pneumonia too, an' my guts is +all out o' order. 'Tain't no bloomin' picnic in those parts, I can +tell you.' + +'Wot are the niggers like?' demanded a private. + +'There's some prisoners in that train yonder. Go an' look at 'em. +They're the aristocracy o' the country. The common folk are a dashed +sight uglier. If you want to know what they fight with, reach under my +seat an' pull out the long knife that's there.' + +They dragged out and beheld for the first time the grim, bone-handled, +triangular Afghan knife. It was almost as long as Lew. + +'That's the thing to jint ye,' said the trooper feebly. 'It can take +off a man's arm at the shoulder as easy as slicing butter. I halved +the beggar that used that 'un, but there's more of his likes up above. +They don't understand thrustin', but they're devils to slice.' + +The men strolled across the tracks to inspect the Afghan prisoners. +They were unlike any 'niggers' that the Fore and Aft had ever +met--these huge, black-haired, scowling sons of the Beni-Israel. As +the men stared the Afghans spat freely and muttered one to another +with lowered eyes. + +'My eyes! Wot awful swine!' said Jakin, who was in the rear of the +procession. 'Say, old man, how you got _puckrowed_, eh? _Kiswasti_ you +wasn't hanged for your ugly face, hey?' + +The tallest of the company turned, his leg-irons clanking at the +movement, and stared at the boy. 'See!' he cried to his fellows in +Pushto. 'They send children against us. What a people, and what +fools!' + + [Illustration: The men strolled across the tracks to inspect + the Afghan prisoners.--P. 50.] + +'_Hya!_' said Jakin, nodding his head cheerily. 'You go down-country. +_Khana_ get, _peenikapanee_ get--live like a bloomin' Raja _ke +marfik_. That's a better _bandobust_ than baynit get it in your +innards. Good-bye, ole man. Take care o' your beautiful figure-'ad, +an' try to look _kushy_.' + +The men laughed and fell in for their first march, when they began to +realise that a soldier's life was not all beer and skittles. They were +much impressed with the size and bestial ferocity of the niggers whom +they had now learned to call 'Paythans,' and more with the exceeding +discomfort of their own surroundings. Twenty old soldiers in the corps +would have taught them how to make themselves moderately snug at +night, but they had no old soldiers, and, as the troops on the line of +march said, 'they lived like pigs.' They learned the heart-breaking +cussedness of camp-kitchens and camels and the depravity of an E.P. +tent and a wither-wrung mule. They studied animalculę in water, and +developed a few cases of dysentery in their study. + +At the end of their third march they were disagreeably surprised by +the arrival in their camp of a hammered iron slug which, fired from a +steady rest at seven hundred yards, flicked out the brains of a +private seated by the fire. This robbed them of their peace for a +night, and was the beginning of a long-range fire carefully calculated +to that end. In the daytime they saw nothing except an unpleasant puff +of smoke from a crag above the line of march. At night there were +distant spurts of flame and occasional casualties, which set the whole +camp blazing into the gloom and, occasionally, into opposite tents. +Then they swore vehemently and vowed that this was magnificent, but +not war. + +Indeed it was not. The Regiment could not halt for reprisals against +the sharpshooters of the countryside. Its duty was to go forward and +make connection with the Scotch and Gurkha troops with which it was +brigaded. The Afghans knew this, and knew too, after their first +tentative shots, that they were dealing with a raw regiment. +Thereafter they devoted themselves to the task of keeping the Fore and +Aft on the strain. Not for anything would they have taken equal +liberties with a seasoned corps--with the wicked little Gurkhas, whose +delight it was to lie out in the open on a dark night and stalk their +stalkers--with the terrible, big men dressed in women's clothes, who +could be heard praying to their God in the night-watches, and whose +peace of mind no amount of 'sniping' could shake--or with those vile +Sikhs, who marched so ostentatiously unprepared and who dealt out such +grim reward to those who tried to profit by that unpreparedness. This +white regiment was different--quite different. It slept like a hog, +and, like a hog, charged in every direction when it was roused. Its +sentries walked with a footfall that could be heard for a quarter of a +mile, would fire at anything that moved--even a driven donkey--and +when they had once fired, could be scientifically 'rushed' and laid +out a horror and an offence against the morning sun. Then there were +camp-followers who straggled and could be cut up without fear. Their +shrieks would disturb the white boys, and the loss of their services +would inconvenience them sorely. + +Thus, at every march, the hidden enemy became bolder and the regiment +writhed and twisted under attacks it could not avenge. The crowning +triumph was a sudden night-rush ending in the cutting of many +tent-ropes, the collapse of the sodden canvas, and a glorious knifing +of the men who struggled and kicked below. It was a great deed, neatly +carried out, and it shook the already shaken nerves of the Fore and +Aft. All the courage that they had been required to exercise up to +this point was the 'two o'clock in the morning courage'; and, so far, +they had only succeeded in shooting their comrades and losing their +sleep. + +Sullen, discontented, cold, savage, sick, with their uniforms dulled +and unclean, the Fore and Aft joined their Brigade. + +'I hear you had a tough time of it coming up,' said the Brigadier. But +when he saw the hospital-sheets his face fell. + +'This is bad,' said he to himself. 'They're as rotten as sheep.' And +aloud to the Colonel--'I'm afraid we can't spare you just yet. We want +all we have, else I should have given you ten days to recover in.' + +The Colonel winced. 'On my honour, Sir,' he returned, 'there is not +the least necessity to think of sparing us. My men have been rather +mauled and upset without a fair return. They only want to go in +somewhere where they can see what's before them.' + +'Can't say I think much of the Fore and Fit,' said the Brigadier in +confidence to his Brigade-Major. 'They've lost all their soldiering, +and, by the trim of them, might have marched through the country from +the other side. A more fagged-out set of men I never put eyes on.' + +'Oh, they'll improve as the work goes on. The parade gloss has been +rubbed off a little, but they'll put on field polish before long,' +said the Brigade-Major. 'They've been mauled, and they don't quite +understand it.' + +They did not. All the hitting was on one side, and it was cruelly hard +hitting with accessories that made them sick. There was also the real +sickness that laid hold of a strong man and dragged him howling to the +grave. Worst of all, their officers knew just as little of the country +as the men themselves, and looked as if they did. The Fore and Aft +were in a thoroughly unsatisfactory condition, but they believed that +all would be well if they could once get a fair go-in at the enemy. +Pot-shots up and down the valleys were unsatisfactory, and the bayonet +never seemed to get a chance. Perhaps it was as well, for a +long-limbed Afghan with a knife had a reach of eight feet, and could +carry away lead that would disable three Englishmen. + +The Fore and Fit would like some rifle-practice at the enemy--all +seven hundred rifles blazing together. That wish showed the mood of +the men. + +The Gurkhas walked into their camp, and in broken, barrack-room +English strove to fraternise with them; offered them pipes of tobacco +and stood them treat at the canteen. But the Fore and Aft, not knowing +much of the nature of the Gurkhas, treated them as they would treat +any other 'niggers,' and the little men in green trotted back to their +firm friends the Highlanders, and with many grins confided to them: +'That dam white regiment no dam use. Sulky--ugh! Dirty--ugh! Hya, any +tot for Johnny?' Whereat the Highlanders smote the Gurkhas as to the +head, and told them not to vilify a British Regiment, and the Gurkhas +grinned cavernously, for the Highlanders were their elder brothers and +entitled to the privileges of kinship. The common soldier who touches +a Gurkha is more than likely to have his head sliced open. + +Three days later the Brigadier arranged a battle according to the +rules of war and the peculiarity of the Afghan temperament. The enemy +were massing in inconvenient strength among the hills, and the moving +of many green standards warned him that the tribes were 'up' in aid of +the Afghan regular troops. A squadron and a half of Bengal Lancers +represented the available Cavalry, and two screw-guns borrowed from a +column thirty miles away the Artillery at the General's disposal. + +'If they stand, as I've a very strong notion that they will, I fancy +we shall see an infantry fight that will be worth watching,' said the +Brigadier. 'We'll do it in style. Each regiment shall be played into +action by its Band, and we'll hold the Cavalry in reserve.' + +'For _all_ the reserve?' somebody asked. + +'For all the reserve; because we're going to crumple them up,' said +the Brigadier, who was an extraordinary Brigadier, and did not believe +in the value of a reserve when dealing with Asiatics. Indeed, when +you come to think of it, had the British Army consistently waited for +reserves in all its little affairs, the boundaries of Our Empire would +have stopped at Brighton beach. + +That battle was to be a glorious battle. + +The three regiments debouching from three separate gorges, after duly +crowning the heights above, were to converge from the centre, left, +and right upon what we will call the Afghan army, then stationed +towards the lower extremity of a flat-bottomed valley. Thus it will be +seen that three sides of the valley practically belonged to the +English, while the fourth was strictly Afghan property. In the event +of defeat the Afghans had the rocky hills to fly to, where the fire +from the guerilla tribes in aid would cover their retreat. In the +event of victory these same tribes would rush down and lend their +weight to the rout of the British. + +The screw-guns were to shell the head of each Afghan rush that was +made in close formation, and the Cavalry, held in reserve in the right +valley, were to gently stimulate the break-up which would follow on +the combined attack. The Brigadier, sitting upon a rock overlooking +the valley, would watch the battle unrolled at his feet. The Fore and +Aft would debouch from the central gorge, the Gurkhas from the left, +and the Highlanders from the right, for the reason that the left +flank of the enemy seemed as though it required the most hammering. It +was not every day that an Afghan force would take ground in the open, +and the Brigadier was resolved to make the most of it. + +'If we only had a few more men,' he said plaintively, 'we could +surround the creatures and crumple 'em up thoroughly. As it is, I'm +afraid we can only cut them up as they run. It's a great pity.' + +The Fore and Aft had enjoyed unbroken peace for five days, and were +beginning, in spite of dysentery, to recover their nerve. But they +were not happy, for they did not know the work in hand, and had they +known, would not have known how to do it. Throughout those five days +in which old soldiers might have taught them the craft of the game, +they discussed together their misadventures in the past--how such an +one was alive at dawn and dead ere the dusk, and with what shrieks and +struggles such another had given up his soul under the Afghan knife. +Death was a new and horrible thing to the sons of mechanics who were +used to die decently of zymotic disease; and their careful +conservation in barracks had done nothing to make them look upon it +with less dread. + +Very early in the dawn the bugles began to blow, and the Fore and +Aft, filled with a misguided enthusiasm, turned out without waiting +for a cup of coffee and a biscuit; and were rewarded by being kept +under arms in the cold while the other regiments leisurely prepared +for the fray. All the world knows that it is ill taking the breeks off +a Highlander. It is much iller to try to make him stir unless he is +convinced of the necessity for haste. + +The Fore and Aft waited, leaning upon their rifles and listening to +the protests of their empty stomachs. The Colonel did his best to +remedy the default of lining as soon as it was borne in upon him that +the affair would not begin at once, and so well did he succeed that +the coffee was just ready when--the men moved off, their Band leading. +Even then there had been a mistake in time, and the Fore and Aft came +out into the valley ten minutes before the proper hour. Their Band +wheeled to the right after reaching the open, and retired behind a +little rocky knoll, still playing while the regiment went past. + +It was not a pleasant sight that opened on the uninstructed view, for +the lower end of the valley appeared to be filled by an army in +position--real and actual regiments attired in red coats, and--of this +there was no doubt--firing Martini-Henry bullets which cut up the +ground a hundred yards in front of the leading company. Over that +pock-marked ground the regiment had to pass, and it opened the ball +with a general and profound courtesy to the piping pickets; ducking in +perfect time, as though it had been brazed on a rod. Being +half-capable of thinking for itself, it fired a volley by the simple +process of pitching its rifle into its shoulder and pulling the +trigger. The bullets may have accounted for some of the watchers on +the hillside, but they certainly did not affect the mass of enemy in +front, while the noise of the rifles drowned any orders that might +have been given. + +'Good God!' said the Brigadier, sitting on the rock high above all. +'That regiment has spoilt the whole show. Hurry up the others, and let +the screw-guns get off.' + +But the screw-guns, in working round the heights, had stumbled upon a +wasp's nest of a small mud fort which they incontinently shelled at +eight hundred yards, to the huge discomfort of the occupants, who were +unaccustomed to weapons of such devilish precision. + +The Fore and Aft continued to go forward, but with shortened stride. +Where were the other regiments, and why did these niggers use +Martinis? They took open order instinctively, lying down and firing at +random, rushing a few paces forward and lying down again, according to +the regulations. Once in this formation, each man felt himself +desperately alone, and edged in towards his fellow for comfort's sake. + +Then the crack of his neighbour's rifle at his ear led him to fire as +rapidly as he could--again for the sake of the comfort of the noise. +The reward was not long delayed. Five volleys plunged the files in +banked smoke impenetrable to the eye, and the bullets began to take +ground twenty or thirty yards in front of the firers, as the weight of +the bayonet dragged down and to the right arms wearied with holding +the kick of the leaping Martini. The Company Commanders peered +helplessly through the smoke, the more nervous mechanically trying to +fan it away with their helmets. + +'High and to the left!' bawled a Captain till he was hoarse. 'No good! +Cease firing, and let it drift away a bit.' + +Three and four times the bugles shrieked the order, and when it was +obeyed the Fore and Aft looked that their foe should be lying before +them in mown swaths of men. A light wind drove the smoke to leeward, +and showed the enemy still in position and apparently unaffected. A +quarter of a ton of lead had been buried a furlong in front of them, +as the ragged earth attested. + +That was not demoralising to the Afghans, who have not European +nerves. They were waiting for the mad riot to die down, and were +firing quietly into the heart of the smoke. A private of the Fore and +Aft spun up his company shrieking with agony, another was kicking the +earth and gasping, and a third, ripped through the lower intestines by +a jagged bullet, was calling aloud on his comrades to put him out of +his pain. These were the casualties, and they were not soothing to +hear or see. The smoke cleared to a dull haze. + +Then the foe began to shout with a great shouting, and a mass--a black +mass--detached itself from the main body, and rolled over the ground +at horrid speed. It was composed of, perhaps, three hundred men, who +would shout and fire and slash if the rush of their fifty comrades who +were determined to die carried home. The fifty were Ghazis, +half-maddened with drugs and wholly mad with religious fanaticism. +When they rushed the British fire ceased, and in the lull the order +was given to close ranks and meet them with the bayonet. + +Any one who knew the business could have told the Fore and Aft that +the only way of dealing with a Ghazi rush is by volleys at long +ranges; because a man who means to die, who desires to die, who will +gain heaven by dying, must, in nine cases out of ten, kill a man who +has a lingering prejudice in favour of life. Where they should have +closed and gone forward, the Fore and Aft opened out and skirmished, +and where they should have opened out and fired, they closed and +waited. + +A man dragged from his blankets half awake and unfed is never in a +pleasant frame of mind. Nor does his happiness increase when he +watches the whites of the eyes of three hundred six-foot fiends upon +whose beards the foam is lying, upon whose tongues is a roar of wrath, +and in whose hands are yard-long knives. + +The Fore and Aft heard the Gurkha bugles bringing that regiment +forward at the double, while the neighing of the Highland pipes came +from the left. They strove to stay where they were, though the +bayonets wavered down the line like the oars of a ragged boat. Then +they felt body to body the amazing physical strength of their foes; a +shriek of pain ended the rush, and the knives fell amid scenes not to +be told. The men clubbed together and smote blindly--as often as not +at their own fellows. Their front crumpled like paper, and the fifty +Ghazis passed on; their backers, now drunk with success, fighting as +madly as they. + +Then the rear-ranks were bidden to close up, and the subalterns dashed +into the stew--alone. For the rear-rank had heard the clamour in +front, the yells and the howls of pain, and had seen the dark stale +blood that makes afraid. They were not going to stay. It was the +rushing of the camps over again. Let their officers go to Hell, if +they chose; they would get away from the knives. + +'Come on!' shrieked the subalterns, and their men, cursing them, drew +back, each closing into his neighbour and wheeling round. + +Charteris and Devlin, subalterns of the last company, faced their +death alone in the belief that their men would follow. + +'You've killed me, you cowards,' sobbed Devlin and dropped, cut from +the shoulder-strap to the centre of the chest, and a fresh detachment +of his men retreating, always retreating, trampled him under foot as +they made for the pass whence they had emerged. + + I kissed her in the kitchen and I kissed her in the hall. + Child'un, child'un, follow me! + Oh Golly, said the cook, is he gwine to kiss us all? + Halla--Halla--Halla--Hallelujah! + +The Gurkhas were pouring through the left gorge and over the heights +at the double to the invitation of their Regimental Quick-step. The +black rocks were crowned with dark green spiders as the bugles gave +tongue jubilantly:-- + + In the morning! In the morning _by_ the bright light! + When Gabriel blows his trumpet in the morning! + +The Gurkha rear-companies tripped and blundered over loose stones. The +front-files halted for a moment to take stock of the valley and to +settle stray boot-laces. Then a happy little sigh of contentment +soughed down the ranks, and it was as though the land smiled, for +behold there below was the enemy, and it was to meet them that the +Gurkhas had doubled so hastily. There was much enemy. There would be +amusement. The little men hitched their _kukris_ well to hand, and +gaped expectantly at their officers as terriers grin ere the stone is +cast for them to fetch. The Gurkhas' ground sloped downward to the +valley, and they enjoyed a fair view of the proceedings. They sat upon +the boulders to watch, for their officers were not going to waste +their wind in assisting to repulse a Ghazi rush more than half a mile +away. Let the white men look to their own front. + +'Hi! yi!' said the Subadar-Major, who was sweating profusely. 'Dam +fools yonder, stand close-order! This is no time for close-order, it +is the time for volleys. Ugh!' + +Horrified, amused, and indignant, the Gurkhas beheld the retirement of +the Fore and Aft with a running chorus of oaths and commentaries. + +'They run! The white men run! Colonel Sahib, may _we_ also do a little +running?' murmured Runbir Thappa, the Senior Jemadar. + +But the Colonel would have none of it. 'Let the beggars be cut up a +little,' said he wrathfully. ''Serves 'em right. They'll be prodded +into facing round in a minute.' He looked through his field-glasses, +and caught the glint of an officer's sword. + +'Beating 'em with the flat--damned conscripts! How the Ghazis are +walking into them!' said he. + +The Fore and Aft, heading back, bore with them their officers. The +narrowness of the pass forced the mob into solid formation, and the +rear-rank delivered some sort of a wavering volley. The Ghazis drew +off, for they did not know what reserves the gorge might hide. +Moreover, it was never wise to chase white men too far. They returned +as wolves return to cover, satisfied with the slaughter that they had +done, and only stopping to slash at the wounded on the ground. A +quarter of a mile had the Fore and Aft retreated, and now, jammed in +the pass, was quivering with pain, shaken and demoralised with fear, +while the officers, maddened beyond control, smote the men with the +hilts and the flats of their swords. + +'Get back! Get back, you cowards--you women! Right about face--column +of companies, form--you hounds!' shouted the Colonel, and the +subalterns swore aloud. But the Regiment wanted to go--to go anywhere +out of the range of those merciless knives. It swayed to and fro +irresolutely with shouts and outcries, while from the right the +Gurkhas dropped volley after volley of cripple-stopper Snider bullets +at long range into the mob of the Ghazis returning to their own +troops. + +The Fore and Aft Band, though protected from direct fire by the rocky +knoll under which it had sat down, fled at the first rush. Jakin and +Lew would have fled also, but their short legs left them fifty yards +in the rear, and by the time the Band had mixed with the regiment, +they were painfully aware that they would have to close in alone and +unsupported. + +'Get back to that rock,' gasped Jakin. 'They won't see us there.' + +And they returned to the scattered instruments of the Band; their +hearts nearly bursting their ribs. + +'Here's a nice show for _us_,' said Jakin, throwing himself full +length on the ground. 'A bloomin' fine show for British Infantry! Oh, +the devils! They've gone an' left us alone here! Wot'll we do?' + +Lew took possession of a cast-off water bottle, which naturally was +full of canteen rum, and drank till he coughed again. + +'Drink,' said he shortly.' They'll come back in a minute or two--you +see.' + +Jakin drank, but there was no sign of the Regiment's return. They +could hear a dull clamour from the head of the valley of retreat, and +saw the Ghazis slink back, quickening their pace as the Gurkhas fired +at them. + +'We're all that's left of the Band, an' we'll be cut up as sure as +death,' said Jakin. + +'I'll die game, then,' said Lew thickly, fumbling with his tiny +drummer's sword. The drink was working on his brain as it was on +Jakin's. + +''Old on! I know something better than fightin',' said Jakin, 'stung +by the splendour of a sudden thought' due chiefly to rum. 'Tip our +bloomin' cowards yonder the word to come back. The Paythan beggars are +well away. Come on, Lew! We won't get hurt. Take the fife and give me +the drum. The Old Step for all your bloomin' guts are worth! There's a +few of our men coming back now. Stand up, ye drunken little defaulter. +By your right--quick march!' + +He slipped the drum-sling over his shoulder, thrust the fife into +Lew's hand, and the two boys marched out of the cover of the rock into +the open, making a hideous hash of the first bars of the 'British +Grenadiers.' + +As Jakin had said, a few of the Fore and Aft were coming back sullenly +and shamefacedly under the stimulus of blows and abuse; their red +coats shone at the head of the valley, and behind them were wavering +bayonets. But between this shattered line and the enemy, who with +Afghan suspicion feared that the hasty retreat meant an ambush, and +had not moved therefore, lay half a mile of level ground dotted only +by the wounded. + + [Illustration: The tune settled into full swing, and the boys + kept shoulder to shoulder.--P. 69.] + +The tune settled into full swing and the boys kept shoulder to +shoulder, Jakin banging the drum as one possessed. The one fife made a +thin and pitiful squeaking, but the tune carried far, even to the +Gurkhas. + +'Come on, you dogs!' muttered Jakin to himself. 'Are we to play for +hever?' Lew was staring straight in front of him and marching more +stiffly than ever he had done on parade. + +And in bitter mockery of the distant mob, the old tune of the Old Line +shrilled and rattled:-- + + Some talk of Alexander, + And some of Hercules; + Of Hector and Lysander, + And such great names as these! + +There was a far-off clapping of hands from the Gurkhas, and a roar +from the Highlanders in the distance, but never a shot was fired by +British or Afghan. The two little red dots moved forward in the open +parallel to the enemy's front. + + But of all the world's great heroes + There's none that can compare, + With a tow-row-row-row-row-row, + To the British Grenadier! + +The men of the Fore and Aft were gathering thick at the entrance to +the plain. The Brigadier on the heights far above was speechless with +rage. Still no movement from the enemy. The day stayed to watch the +children. + +Jakin halted and beat the long roll of the Assembly, while the fife +squealed despairingly. + +'Right about face! Hold up, Lew, you're drunk,' said Jakin. They +wheeled and marched back:-- + + Those heroes of antiquity + Ne'er saw a cannon-ball, + Nor knew the force o' powder, + +'Here they come!' said Jakin. 'Go on, Lew':-- + + To scare their foes withal! + +The Fore and Aft were pouring out of the valley. What officers had +said to men in that time of shame and humiliation will never be known; +for neither officers nor men speak of it now. + +'They are coming anew!' shouted a priest among the Afghans. 'Do not +kill the boys! Take them alive and they shall be of our faith.' + +But the first volley had been fired, and Lew dropped on his face. +Jakin stood for a minute, spun round and collapsed, as the Fore and +Aft came forward, the curses of their officers in their ears, and in +their hearts the shame of open shame. + +Half the men had seen the drummers die, and they made no sign. They +did not even shout. They doubled out straight across the plain in open +order, and they did not fire. + +'This,' said the Colonel of Gurkhas softly, 'is the real attack, as it +should have been delivered. Come on, my children.' + +'Ulu-lu-lu-lu!' squealed the Gurkhas, and came down with a joyful +clicking of _kukris_--those vicious Gurkha knives. + +On the right there was no rush. The Highlanders, cannily commending +their souls to God (for it matters as much to a dead man whether he +has been shot in a Border scuffle or at Waterloo), opened out and +fired according to their custom, that is to say without heat and +without intervals, while the screw-guns, having disposed of the +impertinent mud fort aforementioned, dropped shell after shell into +the clusters round the flickering green standards on the heights. + +'Charrging is an unfortunate necessity,' murmured the Colour-Sergeant +of the right company of the Highlanders. 'It makes the men sweer so, +but I am thinkin' that it will come to a charrge if these black devils +stand much longer. Stewarrt, man, you're firing into the eye of the +sun, and he'll not take any harm for Government ammuneetion. A foot +lower and a great deal slower! What are the English doing? They're +very quiet there in the centre. Running again?' + +The English were not running. They were hacking and hewing and +stabbing, for though one white man is seldom physically a match for an +Afghan in a sheepskin or wadded coat, yet, through the pressure of +many white men behind, and a certain thirst for revenge in his heart, +he becomes capable of doing much with both ends of his rifle. The Fore +and Aft held their fire till one bullet could drive through five or +six men, and the front of the Afghan force gave on the volley. They +then selected their men, and slew them with deep gasps and short +hacking coughs, and groanings of leather belts against strained +bodies, and realised for the first time that an Afghan attacked is far +less formidable than an Afghan attacking: which fact old soldiers +might have told them. + +But they had no old soldiers in their ranks. + +The Gurkhas' stall at the bazar was the noisiest, for the men were +engaged--to a nasty noise as of beef being cut on the block--with the +_kukri_, which they preferred to the bayonet; well knowing how the +Afghan hates the half-moon blade. + +As the Afghans wavered, the green standards on the mountain moved down +to assist them in a last rally. This was unwise. The Lancers chafing +in the right gorge had thrice despatched their only subaltern as +galloper to report on the progress of affairs. On the third occasion +he returned, with a bullet-graze on his knee, swearing strange oaths +in Hindustani, and saying that all things were ready. So that Squadron +swung round the right of the Highlanders with a wicked whistling of +wind in the pennons of its lances, and fell upon the remnant just +when, according to all the rules of war, it should have waited for the +foe to show more signs of wavering. + +But it was a dainty charge, deftly delivered, and it ended by the +Cavalry finding itself at the head of the pass by which the Afghans +intended to retreat; and down the track that the lances had made +streamed two companies of the Highlanders, which was never intended by +the Brigadier. The new development was successful. It detached the +enemy from his base as a sponge is torn from a rock, and left him +ringed about with fire in that pitiless plain. And as a sponge is +chased round the bath-tub by the hand of the bather, so were the +Afghans chased till they broke into little detachments much more +difficult to dispose of than large masses. + +'See!' quoth the Brigadier. 'Everything has come as I arranged. We've +cut their base, and now we'll bucket 'em to pieces.' + +A direct hammering was all that the Brigadier had dared to hope for, +considering the size of the force at his disposal; but men who stand +or fall by the errors of their opponents may be forgiven for turning +Chance into Design. The bucketing went forward merrily. The Afghan +forces were upon the run--the run of wearied wolves who snarl and bite +over their shoulders. The red lances dipped by twos and threes, and, +with a shriek, up rose the lance-butt, like a spar on a stormy sea, as +the trooper cantering forward cleared his point. The Lancers kept +between their prey and the steep hills, for all who could were trying +to escape from the valley of death. The Highlanders gave the fugitives +two hundred yards' law, and then brought them down, gasping and +choking ere they could reach the protection of the boulders above. The +Gurkhas followed suit; but the Fore and Aft were killing on their own +account, for they had penned a mass of men between their bayonets and +a wall of rock, and the flash of the rifles was lighting the wadded +coats. + +'We cannot hold them, Captain Sahib!' panted a Ressaidar of Lancers. +'Let us try the carbine. The lance is good, but it wastes time.' + +They tried the carbine, and still the enemy melted away--fled up the +hills by hundreds when there were only twenty bullets to stop them. On +the heights the screw-guns ceased firing--they had run out of +ammunition--and the Brigadier groaned, for the musketry fire could not +sufficiently smash the retreat. Long before the last volleys were +fired, the doolies were out in force looking for the wounded. The +battle was over, and, but for want of fresh troops, the Afghans would +have been wiped off the earth. As it was they counted their dead by +hundreds, and nowhere were the dead thicker than in the track of the +Fore and Aft. + +But the Regiment did not cheer with the Highlanders, nor did they +dance uncouth dances with the Gurkhas among the dead. They looked +under their brows at the Colonel as they leaned upon their rifles and +panted. + +'Get back to camp, you. Haven't you disgraced yourself enough for one +day! Go and look to the wounded. It's all you're fit for,' said the +Colonel. Yet for the past hour the Fore and Aft had been doing all +that mortal commander could expect. They had lost heavily because they +did not know how to set about their business with proper skill, but +they had borne themselves gallantly, and this was their reward. + +A young and sprightly Colour-Sergeant, who had begun to imagine +himself a hero, offered his water-bottle to a Highlander, whose tongue +was black with thirst. 'I drink with no cowards,' answered the +youngster huskily, and, turning to a Gurkha, said, 'Hya, Johnny! Drink +water got it?' The Gurkha grinned and passed his bottle. The Fore and +Aft said no word. + +They went back to camp when the field of strife had been a little +mopped up and made presentable, and the Brigadier, who saw himself a +Knight in three months, was the only soul who was complimentary to +them. The Colonel was heart-broken, and the officers were savage and +sullen. + +'Well,' said the Brigadier, 'they are young troops of course, and it +was not unnatural that they should retire in disorder for a bit.' + +'Oh, my only Aunt Maria!' murmured a junior Staff Officer. 'Retire in +disorder! It was a bally run!' + +'But they came again, as we all know,' cooed the Brigadier, the +Colonel's ashy-white face before him, 'and they behaved as well as +could possibly be expected. Behaved beautifully, indeed. I was +watching them. It's not a matter to take to heart, Colonel. As some +German General said of his men, they wanted to be shooted over a +little, that was all.' To himself he said--'Now they're blooded I can +give 'em responsible work. It's as well that they got what they did. +'Teach 'em more than half-a-dozen rifle flirtations, that +will--later--run alone and bite. Poor old Colonel, though.' + +All that afternoon the heliograph winked and flickered on the hills, +striving to tell the good news to a mountain forty miles away. And in +the evening there arrived, dusty, sweating, and sore, a misguided +Correspondent, who had gone out to assist at a trumpery +village-burning, and who had read off the message from afar, cursing +his luck the while. + +'Let's have the details somehow--as full as ever you can, please. It's +the first time I've ever been left this campaign,' said the +Correspondent to the Brigadier; and the Brigadier, nothing loath, told +him how an Army of Communication had been crumpled up, destroyed, and +all but annihilated, by the craft, strategy, wisdom, and foresight of +the Brigadier. + +But some say, and among these be the Gurkhas who watched on the +hillside, that that battle was won by Jakin and Lew, whose little +bodies were borne up just in time to fit two gaps at the head of the +big ditch-grave for the dead under the heights of Jagai. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE MAN WHO WAS + + The Earth gave up her dead that tide, + Into our camp he came, + And said his say, and went his way, + And left our hearts aflame. + + Keep tally--on the gun-butt score + The vengeance we must take, + When God shall bring full reckoning, + For our dead comrade's sake. + + _Ballad._ + +Let it be clearly understood that the Russian is a delightful person +till he tucks in his shirt. As an Oriental he is charming. It is only +when he insists upon being treated as the most easterly of western +peoples instead of the most westerly of easterns that he becomes a +racial anomaly extremely difficult to handle. The host never knows +which side of his nature is going to turn up next. + +Dirkovitch was a Russian--a Russian of the Russians--who appeared to +get his bread by serving the Czar as an officer in a Cossack regiment, +and corresponding for a Russian newspaper with a name that was never +twice alike. He was a handsome young Oriental, fond of wandering +through unexplored portions of the earth, and he arrived in India from +nowhere in particular. At least no living man could ascertain whether +it was by way of Balkh, Badakshan, Chitral, Beluchistan, or Nepaul, or +anywhere else. The Indian Government, being in an unusually affable +mood, gave orders that he was to be civilly treated and shown +everything that was to be seen. So he drifted, talking bad English and +worse French, from one city to another, till he foregathered with Her +Majesty's White Hussars in the city of Peshawur, which stands at the +mouth of that narrow swordcut in the hills that men call the Khyber +Pass. He was undoubtedly an officer, and he was decorated after the +manner of the Russians with little enamelled crosses, and he could +talk, and (though this has nothing to do with his merits) he had been +given up as a hopeless task, or cask, by the Black Tyrone, who +individually and collectively, with hot whisky and honey, mulled +brandy, and mixed spirits of every kind, had striven in all +hospitality to make him drunk. And when the Black Tyrone, who are +exclusively Irish, fail to disturb the peace of head of a +foreigner--that foreigner is certain to be a superior man. + +The White Hussars were as conscientious in choosing their wine as in +charging the enemy. All that they possessed, including some wondrous +brandy, was placed at the absolute disposition of Dirkovitch, and he +enjoyed himself hugely--even more than among the Black Tyrones. + +But he remained distressingly European through it all. The White +Hussars were 'My dear true friends,' 'Fellow-soldiers glorious,' and +'Brothers inseparable.' He would unburden himself by the hour on the +glorious future that awaited the combined arms of England and Russia +when their hearts and their territories should run side by side and +the great mission of civilising Asia should begin. That was +unsatisfactory, because Asia is not going to be civilised after the +methods of the West. There is too much Asia and she is too old. You +cannot reform a lady of many lovers, and Asia has been insatiable in +her flirtations aforetime. She will never attend Sunday school or +learn to vote save with swords for tickets. + +Dirkovitch knew this as well as any one else, but it suited him to +talk special-correspondently and to make himself as genial as he +could. Now and then he volunteered a little, a very little, +information about his own sotnia of Cossacks, left apparently to look +after themselves somewhere at the back of beyond. He had done rough +work in Central Asia, and had seen rather more help-your-self +fighting than most men of his years. But he was careful never to +betray his superiority, and more than careful to praise on all +occasions the appearance, drill, uniform, and organisation of Her +Majesty's White Hussars. And indeed they were a regiment to be +admired. When Lady Durgan, widow of the late Sir John Durgan, arrived +in their station, and after a short time had been proposed to by every +single man at mess, she put the public sentiment very neatly when she +explained that they were all so nice that unless she could marry them +all, including the Colonel and some majors already married, she was +not going to content herself with one hussar. Wherefore she wedded a +little man in a rifle regiment, being by nature contradictious; and +the White Hussars were going to wear crape on their arms, but +compromised by attending the wedding in full force, and lining the +aisle with unutterable reproach. She had jilted them all--from +Basset-Holmer the senior captain to little Mildred the junior +subaltern, who could have given her four thousand a year and a title. + +The only person who did not share the general regard for the White +Hussars were a few thousand gentlemen of Jewish extraction who lived +across the border, and answered to the name of Paythan. They had once +met the regiment officially and for something less than twenty +minutes, but the interview, which was complicated with many +casualties, had filled them with prejudice. They even called the White +Hussars children of the devil and sons of persons whom it would be +perfectly impossible to meet in decent society. Yet they were not +above making their aversion fill their money-belts. The regiment +possessed carbines--beautiful Martini-Henri carbines that would lop a +bullet into an enemy's camp at one thousand yards, and were even +handier than the long rifle. Therefore they were coveted all along the +border, and since demand inevitably breeds supply, they were supplied +at the risk of life and limb for exactly their weight in coined +silver--seven and one-half pounds weight of rupees, or sixteen pounds +sterling reckoning the rupee at par. They were stolen at night by +snaky-haired thieves who crawled on their stomachs under the nose of +the sentries; they disappeared mysteriously from locked arm-racks, and +in the hot weather when all the barrack doors and windows were open, +they vanished like puffs of their own smoke. The border people desired +them for family vendettas and contingencies. But in the long cold +nights of the northern Indian winter they were stolen most +extensively. The traffic of murder was liveliest among the hills at +that season, and prices ruled high. The regimental guards were first +doubled and then trebled. A trooper does not much care if he loses a +weapon--Government must make it good--but he deeply resents the loss +of his sleep. The regiment grew very angry, and one rifle-thief bears +the visible marks of their anger upon him to this hour. That incident +stopped the burglaries for a time, and the guards were reduced +accordingly, and the regiment devoted itself to polo with unexpected +results; for it beat by two goals to one that very terrible polo corps +the Lushkar Light Horse, though the latter had four ponies apiece for +a short hour's fight, as well as a native officer who played like a +lambent flame across the ground. + +They gave a dinner to celebrate the event. The Lushkar team came, and +Dirkovitch came, in the fullest full uniform of a Cossack officer, +which is as full as a dressing-gown, and was introduced to the +Lushkars, and opened his eyes as he regarded. They were lighter men +than the Hussars, and they carried themselves with the swing that is +the peculiar right of the Punjab Frontier Force and all Irregular +Horse. Like everything else in the Service it has to be learnt, but, +unlike many things, it is never forgotten, and remains on the body +till death. + +The great beam-roofed mess-room of the White Hussars was a sight to be +remembered. All the mess plate was out on the long table--the same +table that had served up the bodies of five officers after a forgotten +fight long and long ago--the dingy, battered standards faced the door +of entrance, clumps of winter-roses lay between the silver +candlesticks, and the portraits of eminent officers deceased looked +down on their successors from between the heads of sambhur, nilghai, +markhor, and, pride of all the mess, two grinning snow-leopards that +had cost Basset-Holmer four months' leave that he might have spent in +England, instead of on the road to Thibet and the daily risk of his +life by ledge, snow-slide, and grassy slope. + +The servants in spotless white muslin and the crest of their regiments +on the brow of their turbans waited behind their masters, who were +clad in the scarlet and gold of the White Hussars, and the cream and +silver of the Lushkar Light Horse. Dirkovitch's dull green uniform was +the only dark spot at the board, but his big onyx eyes made up for it. +He was fraternising effusively with the Captain of the Lushkar team, +who was wondering how many of Dirkovitch's Cossacks his own dark wiry +down-country-men could account for in a fair charge. But one does not +speak of these things openly. + + [Illustration: '_Rung ho_, Hira Singh!'--P. 85.] + +The talk rose higher and higher, and the regimental band played +between the courses, as is the immemorial custom, till all tongues +ceased for a moment with the removal of the dinner-slips and the first +toast of obligation, when an officer rising said, 'Mr. Vice, the +Queen,' and little Mildred from the bottom of the table answered, 'The +Queen, God bless her,' and the big spurs clanked as the big men +heaved themselves up and drank the Queen upon whose pay they were +falsely supposed to settle their mess-bills. That Sacrament of the +Mess never grows old, and never ceases to bring a lump into the throat +of the listener wherever he be by sea or by land. Dirkovitch rose with +his 'brothers glorious,' but he could not understand. No one but an +officer can tell what the toast means; and the bulk have more +sentiment than comprehension. Immediately after the little silence +that follows on the ceremony there entered the native officer who had +played for the Lushkar team. He could not, of course, eat with the +mess, but he came in at dessert, all six feet of him, with the blue +and silver turban atop, and the big black boots below. The mess rose +joyously as he thrust forward the hilt of his sabre in token of fealty +for the Colonel of the White Hussars to touch, and dropped in a vacant +chair amid shouts of: '_Rung ho_, Hira Singh' (which being translated +means 'Go in and win'). 'Did I whack you over the knee, old man?' +'Ressaidar Sahib, what the devil made you play that kicking pig of a +pony in the last ten minutes?' '_Shabash_, Ressaidar Sahib!' Then the +voice of the Colonel, 'The health of Ressaidar Hira Singh!' + +After the shouting had died away Hira Singh rose to reply, for he was +the cadet of a royal house, the son of a king's son, and knew what +was due on these occasions. Thus he spoke in the vernacular:--'Colonel +Sahib and officers of this regiment. Much honour have you done me. +This will I remember. We came down from afar to play you. But we were +beaten' ('No fault of yours, Ressaidar Sahib. Played on our own ground +y' know. Your ponies were cramped from the railway. Don't apologise!') +'Therefore perhaps we will come again if it be so ordained.' ('Hear! +Hear! Hear, indeed! Bravo! Hsh!') 'Then we will play you afresh' +('Happy to meet you.') 'till there are left no feet upon our ponies. +Thus far for sport.' He dropped one hand on his sword-hilt and his eye +wandered to Dirkovitch lolling back in his chair. 'But if by the will +of God there arises any other game which is not the polo game, then be +assured, Colonel Sahib and officers, that we will play it out side by +side, though _they_,' again his eye sought Dirkovitch, 'though _they_ +I say have fifty ponies to our one horse.' And with a deep-mouthed +_Rung ho!_ that sounded like a musket-butt on flagstones he sat down +amid leaping glasses. + +Dirkovitch, who had devoted himself steadily to the brandy,--the +terrible brandy aforementioned,--did not understand, nor did the +expurgated translations offered to him at all convey the point. +Decidedly Hira Singh's was the speech of the evening, and the clamour +might have continued to the dawn had it not been broken by the noise +of a shot without that sent every man feeling at his defenceless left +side. Then there was a scuffle and a yell of pain. + +'Carbine-stealing again!' said the Adjutant, calmly sinking back in +his chair. 'This comes of reducing the guards. I hope the sentries +have killed him.' + +The feet of armed men pounded on the veranda flags, and it was as +though something was being dragged. + +'Why don't they put him in the cells till the morning?' said the +Colonel testily. 'See if they've damaged him, Sergeant.' + +The mess-sergeant fled out into the darkness and returned with two +troopers and a Corporal, all very much perplexed. + +'Caught a man stealin' carbines, Sir,' said the Corporal. 'Leastways +'e was crawlin' towards the barricks, Sir, past the main road +sentries, an' the sentry 'e sez, Sir----' + +The limp heap of rags upheld by the three men groaned. Never was seen +so destitute and demoralised an Afghan. He was turbanless, shoeless, +caked with dirt, and all but dead with rough handling. Hira Singh +started slightly at the sound of the man's pain. Dirkovitch took +another glass of brandy. + +'_What_ does the sentry say?' said the Colonel. + +'Sez 'e speaks English, Sir,' said the Corporal. + +'So you brought him into mess instead of handing him over to the +sergeant! If he spoke all the Tongues of the Pentecost you've no +business----' + +Again the bundle groaned and muttered. Little Mildred had risen from +his place to inspect. He jumped back as though he had been shot. + +'Perhaps it would be better, Sir, to send the men away,' said he to +the Colonel, for he was a much privileged subaltern. He put his arms +round the rag-bound horror as he spoke, and dropped him into a chair. +It may not have been explained that the littleness of Mildred lay in +his being six feet four and big in proportion. The Corporal, seeing +that an officer was disposed to look after the capture, and that the +Colonel's eye was beginning to blaze, promptly removed himself and his +men. The mess was left alone with the carbine-thief, who laid his head +on the table and wept bitterly, hopelessly, and inconsolably, as +little children weep. + +Hira Singh leapt to his feet. 'Colonel Sahib,' said he, 'that man is +no Afghan, for they weep _Ai! Ai!_ Nor is he of Hindustan, for they +weep _Oh! Ho!_ He weeps after the fashion of the white men, who say +_Ow! Ow!_' + +'Now where the dickens did you get that knowledge, Hira Singh?' said +the Captain of the Lushkar team. + +'Hear him!' said Hira Singh simply, pointing at the crumpled figure +that wept as though it would never cease. + +'He said, "My God!"' said little Mildred. 'I heard him say it.' + +The Colonel and the mess-room looked at the man in silence. It is a +horrible thing to hear a man cry. A woman can sob from the top of her +palate, or her lips, or anywhere else, but a man must cry from his +diaphragm, and it rends him to pieces. + +'Poor devil!' said the Colonel, coughing tremendously. 'We ought to +send him to hospital. He's been man-handled.' + +Now the Adjutant loved his carbines. They were to him as his +grandchildren, the men standing in the first place. He grunted +rebelliously: 'I can understand an Afghan stealing, because he's built +that way. But I can't understand his crying. That makes it worse.' + +The brandy must have affected Dirkovitch, for he lay back in his chair +and stared at the ceiling. There was nothing special in the ceiling +beyond a shadow as of a huge black coffin. Owing to some peculiarity +in the construction of the mess-room this shadow was always thrown +when the candles were lighted. It never disturbed the digestion of the +White Hussars. They were in fact rather proud of it. + +'Is he going to cry all night?' said the Colonel, 'or are we supposed +to sit up with little Mildred's guest until he feels better?' + +The man in the chair threw up his head and stared at the mess. 'Oh, my +God!' he said, and every soul in the mess rose to his feet. Then the +Lushkar Captain did a deed for which he ought to have been given the +Victoria Cross--distinguished gallantry in a fight against +overwhelming curiosity. He picked up his team with his eyes as the +hostess picks up the ladies at the opportune moment, and pausing only +by the Colonel's chair to say, 'This isn't _our_ affair, you know, +Sir,' led them into the veranda and the gardens. Hira Singh was the +last to go, and he looked at Dirkovitch. But Dirkovitch had departed +into a brandy-paradise of his own. His lips moved without sound and he +was studying the coffin on the ceiling. + +'White--white all over,' said Basset-Holmer, the Adjutant. 'What a +pernicious renegade he must be! I wonder where he came from?' + +The Colonel shook the man gently by the arm, and 'Who are you?' said +he. + +There was no answer. The man stared round the mess-room and smiled in +the Colonel's face. Little Mildred, who was always more of a woman +than a man till 'Boot and saddle' was sounded, repeated the question +in a voice that would have drawn confidences from a geyser. The man +only smiled. Dirkovitch at the far end of the table slid gently from +his chair to the floor. No son of Adam in this present imperfect world +can mix the Hussars' champagne with the Hussars' brandy by five and +eight glasses of each without remembering the pit whence he was digged +and descending thither. The band began to play the tune with which the +White Hussars from the date of their formation have concluded all +their functions. They would sooner be disbanded than abandon that +tune; it is a part of their system. The man straightened himself in +his chair and drummed on the table with his fingers. + + [Illustration: He found the spring.--P. 91.] + +'I don't see why we should entertain lunatics,' said the Colonel. +'Call a guard and send him off to the cells. We'll look into the +business in the morning. Give him a glass of wine first though.' + +Little Mildred filled a sherry-glass with the brandy and thrust it +over to the man. He drank, and the tune rose louder, and he +straightened himself yet more. Then he put out his long-taloned hands +to a piece of plate opposite and fingered it lovingly. There was a +mystery connected with that piece of plate, in the shape of a spring +which converted what was a seven-branched candlestick, three springs +on each side and one in the middle, into a sort of wheel-spoke +candelabrum. He found the spring, pressed it, and laughed weakly. He +rose from his chair and inspected a picture on the wall, then moved on +to another picture, the mess watching him without a word. When he came +to the mantelpiece he shook his head and seemed distressed. A piece of +plate representing a mounted hussar in full uniform caught his eye. He +pointed to it, and then to the mantelpiece with inquiry in his eyes. + +'What is it--oh what is it?' said little Mildred. Then as a mother +might speak to a child, 'That is a horse. Yes, a horse.' + +Very slowly came the answer in a thick, passionless guttural--'Yes, +I--have seen. But--where is _the_ horse?' + +You could have heard the hearts of the mess beating as the men drew +back to give the stranger full room in his wanderings. There was no +question of calling the guard. + +Again he spoke--very slowly, 'Where is _our_ horse?' + +There is but one horse in the White Hussars, and his portrait hangs +outside the door of the mess-room. He is the piebald drum-horse, the +king of the regimental band, that served the regiment for +seven-and-thirty years, and in the end was shot for old age. Half the +mess tore the thing down from its place and thrust it into the man's +hands. He placed it above the mantelpiece, it clattered on the ledge +as his poor hands dropped it, and he staggered towards the bottom of +the table, falling into Mildred's chair. Then all the men spoke to one +another something after this fashion, 'The drum-horse hasn't hung over +the mantelpiece since '67.' 'How does he know?' 'Mildred, go and speak +to him again.' 'Colonel, what are you going to do?' 'Oh, dry up, and +give the poor devil a chance to pull himself together.' 'It isn't +possible anyhow. The man's a lunatic.' + +Little Mildred stood at the Colonel's side talking in his ear. 'Will +you be good enough to take your seats, please, gentlemen!' he said, +and the mess dropped into the chairs. Only Dirkovitch's seat, next to +little Mildred's, was blank, and little Mildred himself had found Hira +Singh's place. The wide-eyed mess-sergeant filled the glasses in dead +silence. Once more the Colonel rose, but his hand shook, and the port +spilled on the table as he looked straight at the man in little +Mildred's chair and said hoarsely, 'Mr. Vice, the Queen.' There was a +little pause, but the man sprung to his feet and answered without +hesitation, 'The Queen, God bless her!' and as he emptied the thin +glass he snapped the shank between his fingers. + +Long and long ago, when the Empress of India was a young woman and +there were no unclean ideals in the land, it was the custom of a few +messes to drink the Queen's toast in broken glass, to the vast +delight of the mess-contractors. The custom is now dead, because there +is nothing to break anything for, except now and again the word of a +Government, and that has been broken already. + +'That settles it,' said the Colonel, with a gasp. 'He's not a +sergeant. What in the world is he?' + +The entire mess echoed the word, and the volley of questions would +have scared any man. It was no wonder that the ragged, filthy invader +could only smile and shake his head. + +From under the table, calm and smiling, rose Dirkovitch, who had been +roused from healthful slumber by feet upon his body. By the side of +the man he rose, and the man shrieked and grovelled. It was a horrible +sight coming so swiftly upon the pride and glory of the toast that had +brought the strayed wits together. + +Dirkovitch made no offer to raise him, but little Mildred heaved him +up in an instant. It is not good that a gentleman who can answer to +the Queen's toast should lie at the feet of a subaltern of Cossacks. + +The hasty action tore the wretch's upper clothing nearly to the waist, +and his body was seamed with dry black scars. There is only one weapon +in the world that cuts in parallel lines, and it is neither the cane +nor the cat. Dirkovitch saw the marks, and the pupils of his eyes +dilated. Also his face changed. He said something that sounded like +_Shto ve takete_, and the man fawning answered, _Chetyre_. + + [Illustration: It is not good that a gentleman who can answer + to the Queen's toast should lie at the feet of a subaltern of + Cossacks.--P. 94.] + +'What's that?' said everybody together. + +'His number. That is number four, you know,' Dirkovitch spoke very +thickly. + +'What has a Queen's officer to do with a qualified number?' said the +Colonel, and an unpleasant growl ran round the table. + +'How can I tell?' said the affable Oriental with a sweet smile. 'He is +a--how you have it?--escape--run-a-way, from over there.' He nodded +towards the darkness of the night. + +'Speak to him if he'll answer you, and speak to him gently,' said +little Mildred, settling the man in a chair. It seemed most improper +to all present that Dirkovitch should sip brandy as he talked in +purring, spitting Russian to the creature who answered so feebly and +with such evident dread. But since Dirkovitch appeared to understand +no one said a word. All breathed heavily, leaning forward, in the long +gaps of the conversation. The next time that they have no engagements +on hand the White Hussars intend to go to St. Petersburg in a body to +learn Russian. + +'He does not know how many years ago,' said Dirkovitch facing the +mess, 'but he says it was very long ago in the war. I think that there +was an accident. He says he was of this glorious and distinguished +regiment in the war.' + +'The rolls! The rolls! Holmer, get the rolls!' said little Mildred, +and the Adjutant dashed off bareheaded to the orderly-room, where the +muster-rolls of the regiment were kept. He returned just in time to +hear Dirkovitch conclude, 'Therefore, my dear friends, I am most sorry +to say there was an accident which would have been reparable if he had +apologised to that our colonel, which he had insulted.' + +Then followed another growl which the Colonel tried to beat down. The +mess was in no mood just then to weigh insults to Russian colonels. + +'He does not remember, but I think that there was an accident, and so +he was not exchanged among the prisoners, but he was sent to another +place--how do you say?--the country. _So_, he says, he came here. He +does not know how he came. Eh? He was at Chepany'--the man caught the +word, nodded, and shivered--'at Zhigansk and Irkutsk. I cannot +understand how he escaped. He says, too, that he was in the forests +for many years, but how many years he has forgotten--that with many +things. It was an accident; done because he did not apologise to that +our colonel. Ah!' + +Instead of echoing Dirkovitch's sigh of regret, it is sad to record +that the White Hussars livelily exhibited un-Christian delight and +other emotions, hardly restrained by their sense of hospitality. +Holmer flung the frayed and yellow regimental rolls on the table, and +the men flung themselves at these. + +'Steady! Fifty-six--fifty-five--fifty-four,' said Holmer. 'Here we +are. "Lieutenant Austin Limmason. _Missing._" That was before +Sebastopol. What an infernal shame! Insulted one of their colonels, +and was quietly shipped off. Thirty years of his life wiped out.' + +'But he never apologised. Said he'd see him damned first,' chorussed +the mess. + +'Poor chap! I suppose he never had the chance afterwards. How did he +come here?' said the Colonel. + +The dingy heap in the chair could give no answer. + +'Do you know who you are?' + +It laughed weakly. + +'Do you know that you are Limmason--Lieutenant Limmason of the White +Hussars?' + +Swiftly as a shot came the answer, in a slightly surprised tone, 'Yes, +I'm Limmason, of course.' The light died out in his eyes, and the man +collapsed, watching every motion of Dirkovitch with terror. A flight +from Siberia may fix a few elementary facts in the mind, but it does +not seem to lead to continuity of thought. The man could not explain +how, like a homing pigeon, he had found his way to his own old mess +again. Of what he had suffered or seen he knew nothing. He cringed +before Dirkovitch as instinctively as he had pressed the spring of the +candlestick, sought the picture of the drum-horse, and answered to the +toast of the Queen. The rest was a blank that the dreaded Russian +tongue could only in part remove. His head bowed on his breast, and he +giggled and cowered alternately. + +The devil that lived in the brandy prompted Dirkovitch at this +extremely inopportune moment to make a speech. He rose, swaying +slightly, gripped the table-edge, while his eyes glowed like opals, +and began:-- + +'Fellow-soldiers glorious--true friends and hospitables. It was an +accident, and deplorable--most deplorable.' Here he smiled sweetly all +round the mess. 'But you will think of this little, little thing. So +little, is it not? The Czar! Posh! I slap my fingers--I snap my +fingers at him. Do I believe in him? No! But in us Slav who has done +nothing, _him_ I believe. Seventy--how much--millions peoples that +have done nothing--not one thing. Posh! Napoleon was an episode.' He +banged a hand on the table. 'Hear you, old peoples, we have done +nothing in the world--out here. All our work is to do; and it shall be +done, old peoples. Get a-way!' He waved his hand imperiously, and +pointed to the man. 'You see him. He is no good to see. He was just +one little--oh, so little--accident, that no one remembered. Now he +is _That_! So will you be, brother soldiers so brave--so will you be. +But you will never come back. You will all go where he is gone, +or'--he pointed to the great coffin-shadow on the ceiling, and +muttering, 'Seventy millions--get a-way, you old peoples,' fell +asleep. + +'Sweet, and to the point,' said little Mildred. 'What's the use of +getting wroth? Let's make this poor devil comfortable.' + +But that was a matter suddenly and swiftly taken from the loving hands +of the White Hussars. The lieutenant had returned only to go away +again three days later, when the wail of the Dead March, and the tramp +of the squadrons, told the wondering Station, who saw no gap in the +mess-table, that an officer of the regiment had resigned his new-found +commission. + +And Dirkovitch, bland, supple, and always genial, went away too, by a +night train. Little Mildred and another man saw him off, for he was +the guest of the mess, and even had he smitten the Colonel with the +open hand, the law of that mess allowed no relaxation of hospitality. + +'Good-bye, Dirkovitch, and a pleasant journey,' said little Mildred. + +'_Au revoir_,' said the Russian. + +'Indeed! But we thought you were going home?' + +'Yes, but I will come again. My dear friends, is that road shut?' He +pointed to where the North Star burned over the Khyber Pass. + +'By Jove! I forgot. Of course. Happy to meet you, old man, any time +you like. Got everything you want? Cheroots, ice, bedding? That's all +right. Well, _au revoir_, Dirkovitch.' + +'Um,' said the other man, as the tail-lights of the train grew small. +'Of--all--the--unmitigated----!' + +Little Mildred answered nothing, but watched the North Star and hummed +a selection from a recent Simla burlesque that had much delighted the +White Hussars. It ran:-- + + I'm sorry for Mister Bluebeard, + I'm sorry to cause him pain; + But a terrible spree there's sure to be + When he comes back again. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD + + What did the colonel's lady think + Nobody never knew. + Somebody asked the sergeant's wife + An' she told 'em, true. + When you git to a man in the case + They're like a row o' pins, + For the colonel's lady an' Judy O'Grady + Are sisters under their skins. + + _Barrack Room Ballad._ + + +All day I had followed at the heels of a pursuing army engaged on one +of the finest battles that ever camp of exercise beheld. Thirty +thousand troops had by the wisdom of the Government of India been +turned loose over a few thousand square miles of country to practise +in peace what they would never attempt in war. Consequently cavalry +charged unshaken infantry at the trot. Infantry captured artillery by +frontal attacks delivered in line of quarter columns, and mounted +infantry skirmished up to the wheels of an armoured train which +carried nothing more deadly than a twenty-five pounder Armstrong, two +Nordenfeldts, and a few score volunteers all cased in three-eighths-inch +boiler-plate. Yet it was a very lifelike camp. Operations did not +cease at sundown; nobody knew the country and nobody spared man or +horse. There was unending cavalry scouting and almost unending forced +work over broken ground. The Army of the South had finally pierced the +centre of the Army of the North, and was pouring through the gap +hot-foot to capture a city of strategic importance. Its front extended +fanwise, the sticks being represented by regiments strung out along +the line of route backwards to the divisional transport columns and +all the lumber that trails behind an army on the move. On its right +the broken left of the Army of the North was flying in mass, chased by +the Southern horse and hammered by the Southern guns till these had +been pushed far beyond the limits of their last support. Then the +flying sat down to rest, while the elated commandant of the pursuing +force telegraphed that he held all in check and observation. + +Unluckily he did not observe that three miles to his right flank a +flying column of Northern horse with a detachment of Gurkhas and +British troops had been pushed round, as fast as the failing light +allowed, to cut across the entire rear of the Southern Army, to break, +as it were, all the ribs of the fan where they converged by striking +at the transport, reserve ammunition, and artillery supplies. Their +instructions were to go in, avoiding the few scouts who might not have +been drawn off by the pursuit, and create sufficient excitement to +impress the Southern Army with the wisdom of guarding their own flank +and rear before they captured cities. It was a pretty manoeuvre, +neatly carried out. + +Speaking for the second division of the Southern Army, our first +intimation of the attack was at twilight, when the artillery were +labouring in deep sand, most of the escort were trying to help them +out, and the main body of the infantry had gone on. A Noah's Ark of +elephants, camels, and the mixed menagerie of an Indian transport +train bubbled and squealed behind the guns, when there appeared from +nowhere in particular British infantry to the extent of three +companies, who sprang to the heads of the gun-horses and brought all +to a standstill amid oaths and cheers. + +'How's that, umpire?' said the Major commanding the attack, and with +one voice the drivers and limber gunners answered 'Hout!' while the +Colonel of Artillery sputtered. + +'All your scouts are charging our main body,' said the Major. 'Your +flanks are unprotected for two miles. I think we've broken the back of +this division. And listen,--there go the Gurkhas!' + +A weak fire broke from the rear-guard more than a mile away, and was +answered by cheerful howlings. The Gurkhas, who should have swung +clear of the second division, had stepped on its tail in the dark, but +drawing off hastened to reach the next line of attack, which lay +almost parallel to us five or six miles away. + +Our column swayed and surged irresolutely,--three batteries, the +divisional ammunition reserve, the baggage, and a section of the +hospital and bearer corps. The commandant ruefully promised to report +himself 'cut up' to the nearest umpire, and commending his cavalry and +all other cavalry to the special care of Eblis, toiled on to resume +touch with the rest of the division. + +'We'll bivouac here to-night,' said the Major; 'I have a notion that +the Gurkhas will get caught. They may want us to re-form on. Stand +easy till the transport gets away.' + +A hand caught my beast's bridle and led him out of the choking dust; a +larger hand deftly canted me out of the saddle; and two of the hugest +hands in the world received me sliding. Pleasant is the lot of the +special correspondent who falls into such hands as those of Privates +Mulvaney, Ortheris, and Learoyd. + +'An' that's all right,' said the Irishman calmly. 'We thought we'd +find you somewheres here by. Is there anything av yours in the +transport? Orth'ris'll fetch ut out.' + +Ortheris did 'fetch ut out,' from under the trunk of an elephant, in +the shape of a servant and an animal, both laden with medical +comforts. The little man's eyes sparkled. + +'If the brutil an' licentious soldiery av these parts gets sight av +the thruck,' said Mulvaney, making practised investigation, 'they'll +loot ev'rything. They're bein' fed on iron-filin's an' dog-biscuit +these days, but glory's no compensation for a belly-ache. Praise be, +we're here to protect you, Sorr. Beer, sausage, bread (soft an' that's +a cur'osity), soup in a tin, whisky by the smell av ut, an' fowls! +Mother av Moses, but ye take the field like a confectioner! 'Tis +scand'lus.' + +''Ere's a orficer,' said Ortheris significantly. 'When the sergent's +done lushin' the privit may clean the pot.' + +I bundled several things into Mulvaney's haver-sack before the Major's +hand fell on my shoulder and he said tenderly, 'Requisitioned for the +Queen's service. Wolseley was quite wrong about special +correspondents: they are the soldier's best friends. Come and take +pot-luck with us to-night.' + +And so it happened amid laughter and shoutings that my well-considered +commissariat melted away to reappear later at the mess-table, which +was a waterproof sheet spread on the ground. The flying column had +taken three days' rations with it, and there be few things nastier +than government rations--especially when government is experimenting +with German toys. Erbswurst, tinned beef of surpassing tinniness, +compressed vegetables, and meat-biscuits may be nourishing, but what +Thomas Atkins needs is bulk in his inside. The Major, assisted by his +brother officers, purchased goats for the camp and so made the +experiment of no effect. Long before the fatigue-party sent to collect +brushwood had returned, the men were settled down by their valises, +kettles and pots had appeared from the surrounding country and were +dangling over fires as the kid and the compressed vegetable bubbled +together; there rose a cheerful clinking of mess-tins; outrageous +demands for 'a little more stuffin' with that there liver-wing'; and +gust on gust of chaff as pointed as a bayonet and as delicate as a +gun-butt. + +'The boys are in a good temper,' said the Major. 'They'll be singing +presently. Well, a night like this is enough to keep them happy.' + +Over our heads burned the wonderful Indian stars, which are not all +pricked in on one plane, but, preserving an orderly perspective, draw +the eye through the velvet darkness of the void up to the barred doors +of heaven itself. The earth was a gray shadow more unreal than the +sky. We could hear her breathing lightly in the pauses between the +howling of the jackals, the movement of the wind in the tamarisks, and +the fitful mutter of musketry-fire leagues away to the left. A native +woman from some unseen hut began to sing, the mail-train thundered +past on its way to Delhi, and a roosting crow cawed drowsily. Then +there was a belt-loosening silence about the fires, and the even +breathing of the crowded earth took up the story. + +The men, full fed, turned to tobacco and song,--their officers with +them. The subaltern is happy who can win the approval of the musical +critics in his regiment, and is honoured among the more intricate +step-dancers. By him, as by him who plays cricket cleverly, Thomas +Atkins will stand in time of need, when he will let a better officer +go on alone. The ruined tombs of forgotten Mussulman saints heard the +ballad of _Agra Town_, _The Buffalo Battery_, _Marching to Kabul_, +_The long, long Indian Day_, _The Place where the Punkah-coolie died_, +and that crashing chorus which announces, + + Youth's daring spirit, manhood's fire, + Firm hand and eagle eye, + Must he acquire, who would aspire + To see the gray boar die. + +To-day, of all those jovial thieves who appropriated my commissariat +and lay and laughed round that waterproof sheet, not one remains. They +went to camps that were not of exercise and battles without empires. +Burmah, the Soudan, and the frontier,--fever and fight,--took them in +their time. + +I drifted across to the men's fires in search of Mulvaney, whom I +found strategically greasing his feet by the blaze. There is nothing +particularly lovely in the sight of a private thus engaged after a +long day's march, but when you reflect on the exact proportion of the +'might, majesty, dominion, and power' of the British Empire which +stands on those feet you take an interest in the proceedings. + +'There's a blister, bad luck to ut, on the heel,' said Mulvaney. 'I +can't touch ut. Prick ut out, little man.' + +Ortheris took out his housewife, eased the trouble with a needle, +stabbed Mulvaney in the calf with the same weapon, and was swiftly +kicked into the fire. + +'I've bruk the best av my toes over you, ye grinnin' child av +disruption,' said Mulvaney, sitting cross-legged and nursing his feet; +then seeing me, 'Oh, ut's you, Sorr! Be welkim, an' take that +maraudin' scutt's place. Jock, hold him down on the cindhers for a +bit.' + +But Ortheris escaped and went elsewhere, as I took possession of the +hollow he had scraped for himself and lined with his greatcoat. +Learoyd on the other side of the fire grinned affably and in a minute +fell fast asleep. + +'There's the height av politeness for you,' said Mulvaney, lighting +his pipe with a flaming branch. 'But Jock's eaten half a box av your +sardines at wan gulp, an' I think the tin too. What's the best wid +you, Sorr, an' how did you happen to be on the losin' side this day +whin we captured you?' + +'The Army of the South is winning all along the line,' I said. + +'Then that line's the hangman's rope, savin' your presence. You'll +learn to-morrow how we rethreated to dhraw thim on before we made thim +trouble, an' that's what a woman does. By the same tokin, we'll be +attacked before the dawnin' an' ut would be betther not to slip your +boots. How do I know that? By the light av pure reason. Here are three +companies av us ever so far inside av the enemy's flank an' a crowd av +roarin', tarin', squealin' cavalry gone on just to turn out the whole +hornet's nest av them. Av course the enemy will pursue, by brigades +like as not, an' thin we'll have to run for ut. Mark my words. I am av +the opinion av Polonius whin he said, "Don't fight wid ivry scutt for +the pure joy av fightin', but if you do, knock the nose av him first +and frequint." We ought to ha' gone on an' helped the Gurkhas.' + +'But what do you know about Polonius?' I demanded. This was a new side +of Mulvaney's character. + +'All that Shakespeare iver wrote an' a dale more that the gallery +shouted,' said the man of war, carefully lacing his boots. 'Did I not +tell you av Silver's Theatre in Dublin, whin I was younger than I am +now an' a patron av the drama? Ould Silver wud never pay actor-man or +woman their just dues, an' by consequince his comp'nies was +collapsible at the last minut. Thin the bhoys wud clamour to take a +part, an' oft as not ould Silver made them pay for the fun. Faith, +I've seen Hamlut played wid a new black eye an' the queen as full as a +cornucopia. I remimber wanst Hogin that 'listed in the Black Tyrone +an' was shot in South Africa, he sejuced ould Silver into givin' him +Hamlut's part instid av me that had a fine fancy for rhetoric in those +days. Av course I wint into the gallery an' began to fill the pit wid +other peoples' hats, an' I passed the time av day to Hogin walkin' +through Denmark like a hamstrung mule wid a pall on his back. +"Hamlut," sez I, "there's a hole in your heel. Pull up your +shtockin's, Hamlut," sez I. "Hamlut, Hamlut, for the love av decincy +dhrop that skull an' pull up your shtockin's." The whole house begun +to tell him that. He stopped his soliloquishms mid-between. "My +shtockin's may be comin' down or they may not," sez he, screwin' his +eye into the gallery, for well he knew who I was. "But afther this +performince is over me an' the Ghost'll trample the tripes out av you, +Terence, wid your-ass's bray!" An' that's how I come to know about +Hamlut. Eyah! Those days, those days! Did you iver have onendin' +devilmint an' nothin' to pay for it in your life, Sorr?' + +'Never, without having to pay,' I said. + +'That's thrue! 'Tis mane whin you considher on ut; but ut's the same +wid horse or fut. A headache if you dhrink, an' a belly-ache if you +eat too much, an' a heart-ache to kape all down. Faith, the beast only +gets the colic, an' he's the lucky man.' + +He dropped his head and stared into the fire, fingering his moustache +the while. From the far side of the bivouac the voice of Corbet-Nolan, +senior subaltern of B company, uplifted itself in an ancient and much +appreciated song of sentiment, the men moaning melodiously behind him. + + The north wind blew coldly, she drooped from that hour, + My own little Kathleen, my sweet little Kathleen, + Kathleen, my Kathleen, Kathleen O'Moore! + +With forty-five O's in the last word: even at that distance you might +have cut the soft South Irish accent with a shovel. + +'For all we take we must pay, but the price is cruel high,' murmured +Mulvaney when the chorus had ceased. + +'What's the trouble?' I said gently, for I knew that he was a man of +an inextinguishable sorrow. + +'Hear now,' said he. 'Ye know what I am now. _I_ know what I mint to +be at the beginnin' av my service. I've tould you time an' again, an' +what I have not Dinah Shadd has. An' what am I? Oh, Mary Mother av +Hiven, an ould dhrunken, untrustable baste av a privit that has seen +the reg'ment change out from colonel to drummer-boy, not wanst or +twice, but scores av times! Ay, scores! An' me not so near gettin' +promotion as in the first! An' me livin' on an' kapin' clear av clink, +not by my own good conduck, but the kindness av some orf'cer-bhoy +young enough to be son to me! Do I not know ut? Can I not tell whin +I'm passed over at p'rade, tho' I'm rockin' full av liquor an' ready +to fall all in wan piece, such as even a suckin' child might see, +bekaze, "Oh, 'tis only ould Mulvaney!" An' whin I'm let off in +ord'ly-room through some thrick of the tongue an' a ready answer an' +the ould man's mercy, is ut smilin' I feel whin I fall away an' go +back to Dinah Shadd, thryin' to carry ut all off as a joke? Not I! +'Tis hell to me, dumb hell through ut all; an' next time whin the fit +comes I will be as bad again. Good cause the reg'ment has to know me +for the best soldier in ut. Better cause have I to know mesilf for the +worst man. I'm only fit to tache the new drafts what I'll niver learn +myself; an' I am sure, as tho' I heard ut, that the minut wan av these +pink-eyed recruities gets away from my "Mind ye now," an' "Listen to +this, Jim, bhoy,"--sure I am that the sergint houlds me up to him for +a warnin'. So I tache, as they say at musketry-instruction, by direct +and ricochet fire. Lord be good to me, for I have stud some throuble!' + +'Lie down and go to sleep,' said I, not being able to comfort or +advise. 'You're the best man in the regiment, and, next to Ortheris, +the biggest fool. Lie down and wait till we're attacked. What force +will they turn out? Guns, think you?' + +'Try that wid your lorrds an' ladies, twistin' an' turnin' the talk, +tho' you mint ut well. Ye cud say nothin' to help me, an' yet ye niver +knew what cause I had to be what I am.' + +'Begin at the beginning and go on to the end,' I said royally. 'But +rake up the fire a bit first.' + +I passed Ortheris's bayonet for a poker. + +'That shows how little we know what we do,' said Mulvaney, putting it +aside. 'Fire takes all the heart out av the steel, an' the next time, +maybe, that our little man is fighting for his life his bradawl'll +break, an' so you'll ha' killed him, manin' no more than to kape +yourself warm. 'Tis a recruity's thrick that. Pass the clanin'-rod, +Sorr.' + +I snuggled down abashed; and after an interval the voice of Mulvaney +began. + +'Did I iver tell you how Dinah Shadd came to be wife av mine?' + +I dissembled a burning anxiety that I had felt for some months--ever +since Dinah Shadd, the strong, the patient, and the infinitely tender, +had of her own good love and free will washed a shirt for me, moving +in a barren land where washing was not. + +'I can't remember,' I said casually. 'Was it before or after you made +love to Annie Bragin, and got no satisfaction?' + +The story of Annie Bragin is written in another place. It is one of +the many less respectable episodes in Mulvaney's chequered career. + +'Before--before--long before, was that business av Annie Bragin an' +the corp'ril's ghost. Niver woman was the worse for me whin I had +married Dinah. There's a time for all things, an' I know how to kape +all things in place--barrin' the dhrink, that kapes me in my place wid +no hope av comin' to be aught else.' + +'Begin at the beginning,' I insisted. 'Mrs. Mulvaney told me that you +married her when you were quartered in Krab Bokhar barracks.' + +'An' the same is a cess-pit,' said Mulvaney piously. 'She spoke thrue, +did Dinah. 'Twas this way. Talkin' av that, have ye iver fallen in +love, Sorr?' + +I preserved the silence of the damned. Mulvaney continued:-- + +'Thin I will assume that ye have not. _I_ did. In the days av my +youth, as I have more than wanst tould you, I was a man that filled +the eye an' delighted the sowl av women. Niver man was hated as I have +bin. Niver man was loved as I--no, not within half a day's march av +ut! For the first five years av my service, whin I was what I wud give +my sowl to be now, I tuk whatever was within my reach an' digested +ut--an' that's more than most men can say. Dhrink I tuk, an' ut did me +no harm. By the Hollow av Hiven, I cud play wid four women at wanst, +an' kape them from findin' out anythin' about the other three, an' +smile like a full-blown marigold through ut all. Dick Coulhan, av the +battery we'll have down on us to-night, could drive his team no better +than I mine, an' I hild the worser cattle! An' so I lived, an' so I +was happy till afther that business wid Annie Bragin--she that turned +me off as cool as a meat-safe, an' taught me where I stud in the mind +av an honest woman. 'Twas no sweet dose to swallow. + +'Afther that I sickened awhile an' tuk thought to my reg'mental work; +conceiting mesilf I wud study an' be a sargint, an' a major-gineral +twinty minutes afther that. But on top av my ambitiousness there was +an empty place in my sowl, an' me own opinion av mesilf cud not fill +ut. Sez I to mesilf, "Terence, you're a great man an' the best set-up +in the reg'mint. Go on an' get promotion." Sez mesilf to me, "What +for?" Sez I to mesilf, "For the glory av ut!" Sez mesilf to me, "Will +that fill these two strong arrums av yours, Terence?" "Go to the +devil," sez I to mesilf. "Go to the married lines," sez mesilf to me. +"'Tis the same thing," sez I to mesilf. "Av you're the same man, ut +is," said mesilf to me; an' wid that I considhered on ut a long while. +Did you iver feel that way, Sorr?' + +I snored gently, knowing that if Mulvaney were uninterrupted he would +go on. The clamour from the bivouac fires beat up to the stars, as the +rival singers of the companies were pitted against each other. + +'So I felt that way an' a bad time ut was. Wanst, bein' a fool, I wint +into the married lines more for the sake av spakin' to our ould +colour-sergint Shadd than for any thruck wid women-folk. I was a +corp'ril then--rejuced afterwards, but a corp'ril then. I've got a +photograft av mesilf to prove ut. "You'll take a cup av tay wid us?" +sez Shadd. "I will that," I sez, "tho' tay is not my divarsion." + +'"'Twud be better for you if ut were," sez ould Mother Shadd, an' she +had ought to know, for Shadd, in the ind av his service, dhrank +bung-full each night. + + [Illustration: 'Thin whin the kettle was to be filled, Dinah + came in--my Dinah.'--P. 117.] + +'Wid that I tuk off my gloves--there was pipe-clay in thim, so that +they stud alone--an' pulled up my chair, lookin' round at the china +ornaments, an' bits av things in the Shadds' quarters. They were +things that belonged to a man, an' no camp-kit, here to-day and +dishipated next. "You're comfortable in this place, Sergint," sez I. +"'Tis the wife that did ut, boy," sez he, pointin' the stem av his +pipe to ould Mother Shadd, an' she smacked the top av his bald head +apon the compliment. "That manes you want money," sez she. + +'An' thin--an' thin whin the kettle was to be filled, Dinah came +in--my Dinah--her sleeves rowled up to the elbow an' her hair in a +winkin' glory over her forehead, the big blue eyes beneath twinklin' +like stars on a frosty night, an' the tread av her two feet lighter +than waste-paper from the Colonel's basket in ord'ly-room whin ut's +emptied. Bein' but a shlip av a girl she went pink at seein' me, an' I +twisted me moustache an' looked at a picture forninst the wall. Niver +show a woman that ye care the snap av a finger for her, an' begad +she'll come bleatin' to your boot-heels!' + +'I suppose that's why you followed Annie Bragin till everybody in the +married quarters laughed at you,' said I, remembering that unhallowed +wooing and casting off the disguise of drowsiness. + +'I'm layin' down the gin'ral theory av the attack,' said Mulvaney, +driving his boot into the dying fire. 'If you read the _Soldier's +Pocket-book_, which niver any soldier reads, you'll see that there are +exceptions. Whin Dinah was out av the door (an' 'twas as tho' the +sunlight had shut too)--"Mother av Hiven, Sergint," sez I, "but is +that your daughter?"--"I've believed that way these eighteen years," +sez ould Shadd, his eyes twinklin'; "but Mrs. Shadd has her own +opinion, like iv'ry woman."--"'Tis wid yours this time, for a +mericle," sez Mother Shadd. "Thin why in the name av fortune did I +niver see her before?" sez I. "Bekaze you've been thrapesin' round wid +the married women these three years past. She was a bit av a child +till last year, an' she shot up wid the spring," sez ould Mother +Shadd. "I'll thrapese no more," sez I. "D'you mane that?" sez ould +Mother Shadd, lookin' at me side-ways like a hen looks at a hawk whin +the chickens are runnin' free. "Try me, an' tell," sez I. Wid that I +pulled on my gloves, dhrank off the tay, an' went out av the house as +stiff as at gin'ral p'rade, for well I knew that Dinah Shadd's eyes +were in the small av my back out av the scullery window. Faith! that +was the only time I mourned I was not a cav'l'ry-man for the pride av +the spurs to jingle. + +'I wint out to think, an' I did a powerful lot av thinkin', but ut all +came round to that shlip av a girl in the dotted blue dhress, wid the +blue eyes an' the sparkil in them. Thin I kept off canteen, an' I kept +to the married quarthers, or near by, on the chanst av meetin' Dinah. +Did I meet her? Oh, my time past, did I not; wid a lump in my throat +as big as my valise an' my heart goin' like a farrier's forge on a +Saturday morning? 'Twas "Good day to ye, Miss Dinah," an' "Good day +t'you, Corp'ril," for a week or two, and divil a bit further could I +get bekaze av the respect I had to that girl that I cud ha' broken +betune finger an' thumb.' + +Here I giggled as I recalled the gigantic figure of Dinah Shadd when +she handed me my shirt. + +'Ye may laugh,' grunted Mulvaney. 'But I'm speakin' the trut', an' +'tis you that are in fault. Dinah was a girl that wud ha' taken the +imperiousness out av the Duchess av Clonmel in those days. Flower +hand, foot av shod air, an' the eyes av the livin' mornin' she had +that is my wife to-day--ould Dinah, and niver aught else than Dinah +Shadd to me. + +''Twas after three weeks standin' off an' on, an' niver makin' headway +excipt through the eyes, that a little drummer-boy grinned in me face +whin I had admonished him wid the buckle av my belt for riotin' all +over the place. "An' I'm not the only wan that doesn't kape to +barricks," sez he. I tuk him by the scruff av his neck,--my heart was +hung on a hair-thrigger those days, you will onderstand,--an' "Out wid +ut," sez I, "or I'll lave no bone av you unbreakable."--"Speak to +Dempsey," sez he howlin'. "Dempsey which?" sez I, "ye unwashed limb av +Satan."--"Av the Bob-tailed Dhragoons," sez he. "He's seen her home +from her aunt's house in the civil lines four times this +fortnight."--"Child!" sez I, dhroppin' him, "you're tongue's stronger +than your body. Go to your quarters. I'm sorry I dhressed you down." + +'At that I went four ways to wanst huntin' Dempsey. I was mad to think +that wid all my airs among women I shud ha' been chated by a +basin-faced fool av a cav'l'ry-man not fit to trust on a trunk. +Presintly I found him in our lines--the Bobtails was quartered next +us--an' a tallowy, topheavy son av a she-mule he was wid his big brass +spurs an' his plastrons on his epigastrons an' all. But he niver +flinched a hair. + +'"A word wid you, Dempsey," sez I. "You've walked wid Dinah Shadd four +times this fortnight gone." + +'"What's that to you?" sez he. "I'll walk forty times more, an' forty +on top av that, ye shovel-futted clod-breakin' infantry +lance-corp'ril." + +'Before I cud gyard he had his gloved fist home on my cheek an' down I +went full-sprawl. "Will that content you?" sez he, blowin' on his +knuckles for all the world like a Scots Greys orf'cer. "Content!" sez +I. "For your own sake, man, take off your spurs, peel your jackut, an' +onglove. 'Tis the beginnin' av the overture; stand up!" + + [Illustration: '"My collar-bone's bruk," sez he.'--P. 121.] + +'He stud all he know, but he niver peeled his jacket, an' his +shoulders had no fair play. I was fightin' for Dinah Shadd an' that +cut on my cheek. What hope had he forninst me? "Stand up," sez I, time +an' again whin he was beginnin' to quarter the ground an' gyard high +an' go large. "This isn't ridin'-school," I sez. "O man, stand up an' +let me get in at ye." But whin I saw he wud be runnin' about, I grup +his shtock in my left an' his waist-belt in my right an' swung him +clear to my right front, head undher, he hammerin' my nose till the +wind was knocked out av him on the bare ground. "Stand up," sez I, "or +I'll kick your head into your chest!" and I wud ha' done ut too, so +ragin' mad I was. + +'"My collar-bone's bruk," sez he. "Help me back to lines. I'll walk +wid her no more." So I helped him back.' + +'And was his collar-bone broken?' I asked, for I fancied that only +Learoyd could neatly accomplish that terrible throw. + +'He pitched on his left shoulder-point. Ut was. Next day the news was +in both barricks, an' whin I met Dinah Shadd wid a cheek on me like +all the reg'mintal tailor's samples, there was no "Good mornin', +Corp'ril," or aught else. "An' what have I done, Miss Shadd," sez I, +very bould, plantin' mesilf forninst her, "that ye should not pass the +time of day?" + +'"Ye've half-killed rough-rider Dempsey," sez she, her dear blue eyes +fillin' up. + +'"Maybe," sez I. "Was he a friend av yours that saw ye home four times +in the fortnight?" + +'"Yes," sez she, but her mouth was down at the corners. "An'--an' +what's that to you?" she sez. + +'"Ask Dempsey," sez I, purtendin' to go away. + +'"Did you fight for me then, ye silly man?" she sez, tho' she knew ut +all along. + +'"Who else?" sez I, an' I tuk wan pace to the front. + +'"I wasn't worth ut," sez she, fingerin' in her apron. + +'"That's for me to say," sez I. "Shall I say ut?" + +'"Yes," sez she in a saint's whisper, an' at that I explained mesilf; +and she tould me what ivry man that is a man, an' many that is a +woman, hears wanst in his life. + +'"But what made ye cry at startin', Dinah, darlin'?" sez I. + +'"Your--your bloody cheek," sez she, duckin' her little head down on +my sash (I was on duty for the day) an' whimperin' like a sorrowful +angil. + +'Now a man cud take that two ways. I tuk ut as pleased me best an' my +first kiss wid ut. Mother av Innocence! but I kissed her on the tip av +the nose an' undher the eye; an' a girl that lets a kiss come +tumbleways like that has never been kissed before. Take note av that, +Sorr. Thin we wint hand in hand to ould Mother Shadd like two little +childher, an' she said 'twas no bad thing, an' ould Shadd nodded +behind his pipe, an' Dinah ran away to her own room. That day I throd +on rollin' clouds. All earth was too small to hould me. Begad, I cud +ha' hiked the sun out av the sky for a live coal to my pipe, so +magnificent I was. But I tuk recruities at squad-drill instid, an' +began wid general battalion advance whin I shud ha' been +balance-steppin' them. Eyah! that day! that day!' + +A very long pause. 'Well?' said I. + +''Twas all wrong,' said Mulvaney, with an enormous sigh. 'An' I know +that ev'ry bit av ut was my own foolishness. That night I tuk maybe +the half av three pints--not enough to turn the hair of a man in his +natural senses. But I was more than half drunk wid pure joy, an' that +canteen beer was so much whisky to me. I can't tell how it came about, +but _bekaze_ I had no thought for any wan except Dinah, _bekaze_ I +hadn't slipped her little white arms from my neck five minuts, +_bekaze_ the breath of her kiss was not gone from my mouth, I must go +through the married lines on my way to quarters an' I must stay +talkin' to a red-headed Mullingar heifer av a girl, Judy Sheehy, that +was daughter to Mother Sheehy, the wife of Nick Sheehy, the +canteen-sergint--the Black Curse av Shielygh be on the whole brood +that are above groun' this day! + +'"An' what are ye houldin' your head that high for, Corp'ril?" sez +Judy. "Come in an' thry a cup av tay," she sez, standin' in the +doorway. Bein' an ontrustable fool, an' thinkin' av anything but tay, +I wint. + +'"Mother's at canteen," sez Judy, smoothin' the hair av hers that was +like red snakes, an' lookin' at me corner-ways out av her green cats' +eyes. "Ye will not mind, Corp'ril?" + +'"I can endure," sez I; ould Mother Sheehy bein' no divarsion av mine, +nor her daughter too. Judy fetched the tea things an' put thim on the +table, leanin' over me very close to get thim square. I dhrew back, +thinkin' av Dinah. + +'"Is ut afraid you are av a girl alone?" sez Judy. + +'"No," sez I. "Why should I be?" + +'"That rests wid the girl," sez Judy, dhrawin' her chair next to mine. + +'"Thin there let ut rest," sez I; an' thinkin' I'd been a trifle +onpolite, I sez, "The tay's not quite sweet enough for my taste. Put +your little finger in the cup, Judy. 'Twill make ut necthar." + +'"What's necthar?" sez she. + +'"Somethin' very sweet," sez I; an' for the sinful life av me I cud +not help lookin' at her out av the corner av my eye, as I was used to +look at a woman. + +'"Go on wid ye, Cor'pril," sez she. "You're a flirrt." + +'"On me sowl I'm not," sez I. + +'"Then you're a cruel handsome man, an' that's worse," sez she, +heavin' big sighs an' lookin' cross-ways. + +'"You know your own mind," sez I. + +'"Twud be better for me if I did not," she sez. + +'"There's a dale to be said on both sides av that," sez I, unthinkin'. + +'"Say your own part av ut, then, Terence, darlin'," sez she; "for +begad I'm thinkin' I've said too much or too little for an honest +girl," an' wid that she put her arms round my neck an' kissed me. + +'"There's no more to be said afther that," sez I, kissin' her back +again--oh the mane scutt that I was, my head ringin' wid Dinah Shadd! +How does ut come about, Sorr, that when a man has put the comether on +wan woman, he's sure bound to put it on another? 'Tis the same thing +at musketry. Wan day ivry shot goes wide or into the bank, an' the +next, lay high lay low, sight or snap, ye can't get off the bull's-eye +for ten shots runnin'.' + +'That only happens to a man who has had a good deal of experience. He +does it without thinking,' I replied. + +'Thankin' you for the complimint, Sorr, ut may be so. But I'm doubtful +whether you mint ut for a complimint. Hear now; I sat there wid Judy +on my knee tellin' me all manner av nonsinse an' only sayin' "yes" an' +"no," when I'd much better ha' kept tongue betune teeth. An' that was +not an hour afther I had left Dinah! What I was thinkin' av I cannot +say. Presintly, quiet as a cat, ould Mother Sheehy came in +velvet-dhrunk. She had her daughter's red hair, but 'twas bald in +patches, an' I could see in her wicked ould face, clear as lightnin', +what Judy wud be twenty years to come. I was for jumpin' up, but Judy +niver moved. + +'"Terence has promust, mother," sez she, an' the could sweat bruk out +all over me. Ould Mother Sheehy sat down of a heap an' began playin' +wid the cups. "Thin you're a well-matched pair," she sez very thick. +"For he's the biggest rogue that iver spoiled the queen's +shoe-leather, an'----" + +'"I'm off, Judy," sez I. "Ye should not talk nonsinse to your mother. +Get her to bed, girl." + +'"Nonsinse!" sez the ould woman, prickin' up her ears like a cat an' +grippin' the table-edge. "'Twill be the most nonsinsical nonsinse for +you, ye grinnin' badger, if nonsinse 'tis. Git clear, you. I'm goin' +to bed." + +'I ran out into the dhark, my head in a stew an' my heart sick, but I +had sinse enough to see that I'd brought ut all on mysilf. "It's this +to pass the time av day to a panjandhrum av hell-cats," sez I. "What +I've said, an' what I've not said do not matther. Judy an' her dam +will hould me for a promust man, an' Dinah will give me the go, an' I +desarve ut. I will go an' get dhrunk," sez I, "an' forget about ut, +for 'tis plain I'm not a marrin' man." + +'On my way to canteen I ran against Lascelles, colour-sergeant that +was av E comp'ny, a hard, hard man, wid a torment av a wife. "You've +the head av a drowned man on your shoulders," sez he; "an' you're +goin' where you'll get a worse wan. Come back," sez he. "Let me go," +sez I. "I've thrown my luck over the wall wid my own hand!"--"Then +that's not the way to get ut back again," sez he. "Have out wid your +throuble, you fool-bhoy." An' I tould him how the matther was. + +'He sucked in his lower lip. "You've been thrapped," sez he. "Ju +Sheehy wud be the betther for a man's name to hers as soon as can. An' +ye thought ye'd put the comether on her,--that's the natural vanity of +the baste. Terence, you're a big born fool, but you're not bad enough +to marry into that comp'ny. If you said anythin', an' for all your +protestations I'm sure ye did--or did not, which is worse,--eat ut +all--lie like the father of all lies, but come out av ut free av Judy. +Do I not know what ut is to marry a woman that was the very spit an' +image av Judy whin she was young? I'm gettin' old an' I've larnt +patience, but you, Terence, you'd raise hand on Judy an' kill her in a +year. Never mind if Dinah gives you the go, you've desarved ut; never +mind if the whole reg'mint laughs you all day. Get shut av Judy an' +her mother. They can't dhrag you to church, but if they do, they'll +dhrag you to hell. Go back to your quarters and lie down," sez he. +Thin over his shoulder, "You _must_ ha' done with thim." + +'Next day I wint to see Dinah, but there was no tucker in me as I +walked. I knew the throuble wud come soon enough widout any handlin' +av mine, an' I dreaded ut sore. + +'I heard Judy callin' me, but I hild straight on to the Shadds' +quarthers, an' Dinah wud ha' kissed me but I put her back. + +'"Whin all's said, darlin'," sez I, "you can give ut me if ye will, +tho' I misdoubt 'twill be so easy to come by then." + +'I had scarce begun to put the explanation into shape before Judy an' +her mother came to the door. I think there was a veranda, but I'm +forgettin'. + +'"Will ye not step in?" sez Dinah, pretty and polite, though the +Shadds had no dealin's with the Sheehys. Old Mother Shadd looked up +quick, an' she was the fust to see the throuble; for Dinah was her +daughter. + +'"I'm pressed for time to-day," sez Judy as bould as brass; "an' I've +only come for Terence,--my promust man. 'Tis strange to find him here +the day afther the day." + +'Dinah looked at me as though I had hit her, an' I answered straight. + +'"There was some nonsinse last night at the Sheehys' quarthers, an' +Judy's carryin' on the joke, darlin'," sez I. + +'"At the Sheehys' quarthers?" sez Dinah very slow, an' Judy cut in +wid: "He was there from nine till ten, Dinah Shadd, an' the betther +half av that time I was sittin' on his knee, Dinah Shadd. Ye may look +an' ye may look an' ye may look me up an' down, but ye won't look away +that Terence is my promust man. Terence, darlin', 'tis time for us to +be comin' home." + +'Dinah Shadd niver said word to Judy. "Ye left me at half-past eight," +she sez to me, "an' I niver thought that ye'd leave me for +Judy,--promises or no promises. Go back wid her, you that have to be +fetched by a girl! I'm done with you," sez she, and she ran into her +own room, her mother followin'. So I was alone wid those two women +and at liberty to spake my sentiments. + +'"Judy Sheehy," sez I, "if you made a fool av me betune the lights you +shall not do ut in the day. I niver promised you words or lines." + +'"You lie," sez ould Mother Sheehy, "an' may ut choke you where you +stand!" She was far gone in dhrink. + +'"An' tho' ut choked me where I stud I'd not change," sez I. "Go home, +Judy. I take shame for a decent girl like you dhraggin' your mother +out bareheaded on this errand. Hear now, and have ut for an answer. I +gave my word to Dinah Shadd yesterday, an', more blame to me, I was +wid you last night talkin' nonsinse but nothin' more. You've chosen to +thry to hould me on ut. I will not be held thereby for anythin' in the +world. Is that enough?" + +'Judy wint pink all over. "An' I wish you joy av the perjury," sez +she, duckin' a curtsey. "You've lost a woman that would ha' wore her +hand to the bone for your pleasure; an' 'deed, Terence, ye were not +thrapped...." Lascelles must ha' spoken plain to her. "I am such as +Dinah is--'deed I am! Ye've lost a fool av a girl that'll niver look +at you again, and ye've lost what ye niver had--your common honesty. +If you manage your men as you manage your love makin', small wondher +they call you the worst corp'ril in the comp'ny. Come away, mother," +sez she. + +'But divil a fut would the ould woman budge! "D'you hould by that?" +sez she, peerin' up under her thick gray eyebrows. + +'"Ay, an' wud," sez I, "tho' Dinah gave me the go twinty times. I'll +have no thruck with you or yours," sez I. "Take your child away, ye +shameless woman." + +'"An' am I shameless?" sez she, bringin' her hands up above her head. +"Thin what are you, ye lyin', schamin', weak-kneed, dhirty-souled son +av a sutler? Am _I_ shameless? Who put the open shame on me an' my +child that we shud go beggin' through the lines in the broad daylight +for the broken word of a man? Double portion of my shame be on you, +Terence Mulvaney, that think yourself so strong! By Mary and the +saints, by blood and water an' by ivry sorrow that came into the world +since the beginnin', the black blight fall on you and yours, so that +you may niver be free from pain for another when ut's not your own! +May your heart bleed in your breast drop by drop wid all your friends +laughin' at the bleedin'! Strong you think yourself? May your strength +be a curse to you to dhrive you into the divil's hands against your +own will! Clear-eyed you are? May your eyes see clear evry step av the +dark path you take till the hot cindhers av hell put thim out! May +the ragin' dry thirst in my own ould bones go to you that you shall +niver pass bottle full nor glass empty. God preserve the light av your +onderstandin' to you, my jewel av a bhoy, that ye may niver forget +what you mint to be an' do, whin you're wallowin' in the muck! May ye +see the betther and follow the worse as long as there's breath in your +body; an' may ye die quick in a strange land, watchin' your death +before ut takes you, an' onable to stir hand or foot!" + +'I heard a scufflin' in the room behind, and thin Dinah Shadd's hand +dhropped into mine like a rose-leaf into a muddy road. + +'"The half av that I'll take," sez she, "an' more too if I can. Go +home, ye silly talkin' woman,--go home an' confess." + +'"Come away! Come away!" sez Judy, pullin' her mother by the shawl. +"'Twas none av Terence's fault. For the love av Mary stop the +talkin'!" + +'"An' you!" said ould Mother Sheehy, spinnin' round forninst Dinah. +"Will ye take the half av that man's load? Stand off from him, Dinah +Shadd, before he takes you down too--you that look to be a +quarther-master-sergeant's wife in five years. You look too high, +child. You shall _wash_ for the quarther-master-sergeant, whin he +plases to give you the job out av charity; but a privit's wife you +shall be to the end, an' evry sorrow of a privit's wife you shall +know and niver a joy but wan, that shall go from you like the running +tide from a rock. The pain av bearin' you shall know but niver the +pleasure av giving the breast; an' you shall put away a man-child into +the common ground wid niver a priest to say a prayer over him, an' on +that man-child ye shall think ivry day av your life. Think long, Dinah +Shadd, for you'll niver have another tho' you pray till your knees are +bleedin'. The mothers av childer shall mock you behind your back when +you're wringing over the wash-tub. You shall know what ut is to help a +dhrunken husband home an' see him go to the gyard-room. Will that +plase you, Dinah Shadd, that won't be seen talkin' to my daughter? You +shall talk to worse than Judy before all's over. The sergints' wives +shall look down on you contemptuous, daughter av a sergint, an' you +shall cover ut all up wid a smiling face whin your heart's burstin'. +Stand off av him, Dinah Shadd, for I've put the Black Curse of +Shielygh upon him an' his own mouth shall make ut good." + + [Illustration: '"The half av that I'll take," sez she.'--P. + 132.] + +'She pitched forward on her head an' began foamin' at the mouth. Dinah +Shadd ran out wid water, an' Judy dhragged the ould woman into the +veranda till she sat up. + +'"I'm old an' forlore," she sez, thremblin' an' cryin', "and 'tis like +I say a dale more than I mane." + +'"When you're able to walk--go," says ould Mother Shadd. "This house +has no place for the likes av you that have cursed my daughter." + +'"Eyah!" said the ould woman. "Hard words break no bones, an' Dinah +Shadd'll kape the love av her husband till my bones are green corn. +Judy, darlin', I misremember what I came here for. Can you lend us the +bottom av a taycup av tay, Mrs. Shadd?" + +'But Judy dhragged her off cryin' as tho' her heart wud break. An' +Dinah Shadd an' I, in ten minutes we had forgot ut all.' + +'Then why do you remember it now?' said I. + +'Is ut like I'd forget? Ivry word that wicked ould woman spoke fell +thrue in my life aftherwards, an' I cud ha' stud ut all--stud ut +all,--excipt when my little Shadd was born. That was on the line av +march three months afther the regiment was taken with cholera. We were +betune Umballa an' Kalka thin, an' I was on picket. Whin I came off +duty the women showed me the child, an' ut turned on uts side an' died +as I looked. We buried him by the road, an' Father Victor was a day's +march behind wid the heavy baggage, so the comp'ny captain read a +prayer. An' since then I've been a childless man, an' all else that +ould Mother Sheehy put upon me an' Dinah Shadd. What do you think, +Sorr?' + +I thought a good deal, but it seemed better then to reach out for +Mulvaney's hand. The demonstration nearly cost me the use of three +fingers. Whatever he knows of his weaknesses, Mulvaney is entirely +ignorant of his strength. + +'But what do you think?' he repeated, as I was straightening out the +crushed fingers. + +My reply was drowned in yells and outcries from the next fire, where +ten men were shouting for 'Orth'ris,' 'Privit Orth'ris,' 'Mistah +Or--ther--ris!' 'Deah boy,' 'Cap'n Orth'ris,' 'Field-Marshal +Orth'ris,' 'Stanley, you pen'north o' pop, come 'ere to your own +comp'ny!' And the Cockney, who had been delighting another audience +with recondite and Rabelaisian yarns, was shot down among his admirers +by the major force. + +'You've crumpled my dress-shirt 'orrid,' said he, 'an' I shan't sing +no more to this 'ere bloomin' drawin'-room.' + +Learoyd, roused by the confusion, uncoiled himself, crept behind +Ortheris, and slung him aloft on his shoulders. + +'Sing, ye bloomin' hummin' bird!' said he, and Ortheris, beating time +on Learoyd's skull, delivered himself, in the raucous voice of the +Ratcliffe Highway, of this song:-- + + My girl she give me the go onst, + When I was a London lad, + An' I went on the drink for a fortnight, + An' then I went to the bad. + The Queen she gave me a shillin' + To fight for 'er over the seas; + But Guv'ment built me a fever-trap, + An' Injia gave me disease. + + _Chorus._ + + Ho! don't you 'eed what a girl says, + An' don't you go for the beer; + But I was an ass when I was at grass, + An' that is why I'm here. + + I fired a shot at a Afghan, + The beggar 'e fired again, + An' I lay on my bed with a 'ole in my 'ed, + An' missed the next campaign! + I up with my gun at a Burman + Who carried a bloomin' _dah_, + But the cartridge stuck and the bay'nit bruk, + An' all I got was the scar. + + _Chorus._ + + Ho! don't you aim at a Afghan + When you stand on the sky-line clear; + An' don't you go for a Burman + If none o' your friends is near. + + I served my time for a corp'ral, + An' wetted my stripes with pop, + For I went on the bend with a intimate friend, + An' finished the night in the 'shop.' + + I served my time for a sergeant; + The colonel 'e sez 'No! + The most you'll see is a full C.B.'[2] + An' ... very next night 'twas so. + + _Chorus._ + + Ho! don't you go for a corp'ral + Unless your 'ed is clear; + But I was an ass when I was at grass, + An' that is why I'm 'ere. + + I've tasted the luck o' the army + In barrack an' camp an' clink, + An' I lost my tip through the bloomin' trip + Along o' the women an' drink. + I'm down at the heel o' my service + An' when I am laid on the shelf, + My very wust friend from beginning to end + By the blood of a mouse was myself! + + _Chorus._ + + Ho! don't you 'eed what a girl says, + An' don't you go for the beer; + But I was an ass when I was at grass, + An' that is why I'm 'ere. + +Ay, listen to our little man now, singin' an' shoutin' as tho' trouble +had niver touched him. D' you remember when he went mad with the +home-sickness?' said Mulvaney, recalling a never-to-be-forgotten +season when Ortheris waded through the deep waters of affliction and +behaved abominably. 'But he's talkin' bitter truth, though. Eyah! + + 'My very worst frind from beginnin' to ind + By the blood av a mouse was mesilf!' + . . . . . + +When I woke I saw Mulvaney, the night-dew gemming his moustache, +leaning on his rifle at picket, lonely as Prometheus on his rock, with +I know not what vultures tearing his liver. + +[Illustration] + +FOOTNOTES: + +[2] Confined to barracks. + + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE INCARNATION OF KRISHNA MULVANEY + + Wohl auf, my bully cavaliers + We ride to church to-day, + The man that hasn't got a horse + Must steal one straight away. + . . . . . + Be reverent, men, remember + This is a Gottes haus + Du, Conrad, cut along der aisle + And schenck der whisky aus. + + _Hans Breitmann's Ride to Church._ + + +Once upon a time, very far from England, there lived three men who +loved each other so greatly that neither man nor woman could come +between them. They were in no sense refined, nor to be admitted to the +outer-door mats of decent folk, because they happened to be private +soldiers in Her Majesty's Army; and private soldiers of our service +have small time for self-culture. Their duty is to keep themselves and +their accoutrements specklessly clean, to refrain from getting drunk +more often than is necessary, to obey their superiors, and to pray +for a war. All these things my friends accomplished; and of their own +motion threw in some fighting-work for which the Army Regulations did +not call. Their fate sent them to serve in India, which is not a +golden country, though poets have sung otherwise. There men die with +great swiftness, and those who live suffer many and curious things. I +do not think that my friends concerned themselves much with the social +or political aspects of the East. They attended a not unimportant war +on the northern frontier, another one on our western boundary, and a +third in Upper Burma. Then their regiment sat still to recruit, and +the boundless monotony of cantonment life was their portion. They were +drilled morning and evening on the same dusty parade-ground. They +wandered up and down the same stretch of dusty white road, attended +the same church and the same grog-shop, and slept in the same +lime-washed barn of a barrack for two long years. There was Mulvaney, +the father in the craft, who had served with various regiments from +Bermuda to Halifax, old in war, scarred, reckless, resourceful, and in +his pious hours an unequalled soldier. To him turned for help and +comfort six and a half feet of slow-moving, heavy-footed Yorkshireman, +born on the wolds, bred in the dales, and educated chiefly among the +carriers' carts at the back of York railway-station. His name was +Learoyd, and his chief virtue an unmitigated patience which helped him +to win fights. How Ortheris, a fox-terrier of a Cockney, ever came to +be one of the trio, is a mystery which even to-day I cannot explain. +'There was always three av us,' Mulvaney used to say. 'An' by the +grace av God, so long as our service lasts, three av us they'll always +be. 'Tis betther so.' + +They desired no companionship beyond their own, and it was evil for +any man of the regiment who attempted dispute with them. Physical +argument was out of the question as regarded Mulvaney and the +Yorkshireman; and assault on Ortheris meant a combined attack from +these twain--a business which no five men were anxious to have on +their hands. Therefore they flourished, sharing their drinks, their +tobacco, and their money; good luck and evil; battle and the chances +of death; life and the chances of happiness from Calicut in Southern, +to Peshawur in Northern India. + +Through no merit of my own it was my good fortune to be in a measure +admitted to their friendship--frankly by Mulvaney from the beginning, +sullenly and with reluctance by Learoyd, and suspiciously by Ortheris, +who held to it that no man not in the Army could fraternise with a +red-coat. 'Like to like,' said he. 'I'm a bloomin' sodger--he's a +bloomin' civilian. 'Taint natural--that's all.' + +But that was not all. They thawed progressively, and in the thawing +told me more of their lives and adventures than I am ever likely to +write. + +Omitting all else, this tale begins with the Lamentable Thirst that +was at the beginning of First Causes. Never was such a thirst--Mulvaney +told me so. They kicked against their compulsory virtue, but the +attempt was only successful in the case of Ortheris. He, whose talents +were many, went forth into the highways and stole a dog from a +'civilian'--_videlicet_, some one, he knew not who, not in the Army. +Now that civilian was but newly connected by marriage with the Colonel +of the regiment, and outcry was made from quarters least anticipated +by Ortheris, and, in the end, he was forced, lest a worse thing should +happen, to dispose at ridiculously unremunerative rates of as +promising a small terrier as ever graced one end of a leading string. +The purchase-money was barely sufficient for one small outbreak, which +led him to the guard-room. He escaped, however, with nothing worse +than a severe reprimand, and a few hours of punishment drill. Not for +nothing had he acquired the reputation of being 'the best soldier of +his inches' in the regiment. Mulvaney had taught personal cleanliness +and efficiency as the first articles of his companions' creed. 'A +dhirty man,' he was used to say, in the speech of his kind, 'goes to +Clink for a weakness in the knees, an' is coort-martialled for a pair +av socks missin'; but a clane man, such as is an ornament to his +service--a man whose buttons are gold, whose coat is wax upon him, an' +whose 'coutrements are widout a speck--_that_ man may, spakin' in +reason, do fwhat he likes an' dhrink from day to divil. That's the +pride av bein' dacint.' + +We sat together, upon a day, in the shade of a ravine far from the +barracks, where a watercourse used to run in rainy weather. Behind us +was the scrub jungle, in which jackals, peacocks, the gray wolves of +the North-Western Provinces, and occasionally a tiger estrayed from +Central India, were supposed to dwell. In front lay the cantonment, +glaring white under a glaring sun; and on either side ran the broad +road that led to Delhi. + +It was the scrub that suggested to my mind the wisdom of Mulvaney +taking a day's leave and going upon a shooting-tour. The peacock is a +holy bird throughout India, and he who slays one is in danger of being +mobbed by the nearest villagers; but on the last occasion that +Mulvaney had gone forth, he had contrived, without in the least +offending local religious susceptibilities, to return with six +beautiful peacock skins which he sold to profit. It seemed just +possible then---- + +'But fwhat manner av use is ut to me goin' out widout a dhrink? The +ground's powdher-dhry underfoot, an' ut gets unto the throat fit to +kill,' wailed Mulvaney, looking at me reproachfully. 'An' a peacock is +not a bird you can catch the tail av onless ye run. Can a man run on +wather--an' jungle-wather too?' + +Ortheris had considered the question in all its bearings. He spoke, +chewing his pipe-stem meditatively the while:-- + + 'Go forth, return in glory, + To Clusium's royal 'ome: + An' round these bloomin' temples 'ang + The bloomin' shields o' Rome. + +You better go. You ain't like to shoot yourself--not while there's a +chanst of liquor. Me an' Learoyd'll stay at 'ome an' keep shop--'case +o' anythin' turnin' up. But you go out with a gas-pipe gun an' ketch +the little peacockses or somethin'. You kin get one day's leave easy +as winkin'. Go along an' get it, an' get peacockses or somethin'.' + +'Jock,' said Mulvaney, turning to Learoyd, who was half asleep under +the shadow of the bank. He roused slowly. + +'Sitha, Mulvaney, go,' said he. + +And Mulvaney went; cursing his allies with Irish fluency and +barrack-room point. + +'Take note,' said he, when he had won his holiday, and appeared +dressed in his roughest clothes with the only other regimental +fowling-piece in his hand. 'Take note, Jock, an' you, Orth'ris, I am +goin' in the face av my own will--all for to please you. I misdoubt +anythin' will come av permiscuous huntin' afther peacockses in a +desolit lan'; an' I know that I will lie down an' die wid thirrrst. Me +catch peacockses for you, ye lazy scutts--an' be sacrificed by the +peasanthry--ugh!' + +He waved a huge paw and went away. + +At twilight, long before the appointed hour, he returned empty-handed, +much begrimed with dirt. + +'Peacockses?' queried Ortheris from the safe rest of a barrack-room +table whereon he was smoking cross-legged, Learoyd fast asleep on a +bench. + +'Jock,' said Mulvaney without answering, as he stirred up the sleeper. +'Jock, can ye fight? Will ye fight?' + +Very slowly the meaning of the words communicated itself to the +half-roused man. He understood--and again--what might these things +mean? Mulvaney was shaking him savagely. Meantime the men in the room +howled with delight. There was war in the confederacy at last--war and +the breaking of bonds. + +Barrack-room etiquette is stringent. On the direct challenge must +follow the direct reply. This is more binding than the ties of tried +friendship. Once again Mulvaney repeated the question. Learoyd +answered by the only means in his power, and so swiftly that the +Irishman had barely time to avoid the blow. The laughter around +increased. Learoyd looked bewilderedly at his friend--himself as +greatly bewildered. Ortheris dropped from the table because his world +was falling. + +'Come outside,' said Mulvaney, and as the occupants of the +barrack-room prepared joyously to follow, he turned and said +furiously, 'There will be no fight this night--onless any wan av you +is wishful to assist. The man that does, follows on.' + +No man moved. The three passed out into the moonlight, Learoyd +fumbling with the buttons of his coat. The parade-ground was deserted +except for the scurrying jackals. Mulvaney's impetuous rush carried +his companions far into the open ere Learoyd attempted to turn round +and continue the discussion. + +'Be still now. 'Twas my fault for beginnin' things in the middle av an +end, Jock. I should ha' comminst wid an explanation; but Jock, dear, +on your sowl are ye fit, think you, for the finest fight that iver +was--betther than fightin' me? Considher before ye answer.' + +More than ever puzzled, Learoyd turned round two or three times, felt +an arm, kicked tentatively, and answered, 'Ah'm fit.' He was +accustomed to fight blindly at the bidding of the superior mind. + +They sat them down, the men looking on from afar, and Mulvaney +untangled himself in mighty words. + +'Followin' your fools' scheme I wint out into the thrackless desert +beyond the barricks. An' there I met a pious Hindu dhriving a +bullock-kyart. I tuk ut for granted he wud be delighted for to convoy +me a piece, an' I jumped in----' + +'You long, lazy, black-haired swine,' drawled Ortheris, who would have +done the same thing under similar circumstances. + +''Twas the height av policy. That naygur-man dhruv miles an' miles--as +far as the new railway line they're buildin' now back av the Tavi +River. "'Tis a kyart for dhirt only," says he now an' again +timoreously, to get me out av ut. "Dhirt I am," sez I, "an' the +dhryest that you ever kyarted. Dhrive on, me son, an' glory be wid +you." At that I wint to slape, an' took no heed till he pulled up on +the embankmint av the line where the coolies were pilin' mud. There +was a matther av two thousand coolies on that line--you remimber that. +Prisintly a bell rang, an' they throops off to a big pay-shed. +"Where's the white man in charge?" sez I to my kyart-dhriver. "In the +shed," sez he, "engaged on a riffle."--"A fwhat?" sez I. "Riffle," sez +he. "You take ticket. He take money. You get nothin'."--"Oho!" sez I, +"that's fwhat the shuperior an' cultivated man calls a raffle, me +misbeguided child av darkness an' sin. Lead on to that raffle, though +fwhat the mischief 'tis doin' so far away from uts home--which is the +charity-bazar at Christmas, an' the Colonel's wife grinnin' behind the +tea-table--is more than I know." Wid that I wint to the shed an' found +'twas pay-day among the coolies. Their wages was on a table forninst a +big, fine, red buck av a man--sivun fut high, four fut wide, an' three +fut thick, wid a fist on him like a corn-sack. He was payin' the +coolies fair an' easy, but he wud ask each man if he wud raffle that +month, an' each man sez, "Yes," av course. Thin he wud deduct from +their wages accordin'. Whin all was paid, he filled an ould cigar-box +full av gun-wads an' scatthered ut among the coolies. They did not +take much joy av that performince, an' small wondher. A man close to +me picks up a black gunwad an' sings out, "I have ut."--"Good may ut +do you," sez I. The coolie wint forward to this big, fine, red man, +who threw a cloth off av the most sumpshus, jooled, enamelled an' +variously bedivilled sedan-chair I iver saw.' + +'Sedan-chair! Put your 'ead in a bag. That was a palanquin. Don't +yer know a palanquin when you see it?' said Ortheris with great scorn. + + [Illustration: '"Out of this," sez he, "I'm in charge av this + section av construction."--"I'm in charge av mesilf," sez I, + "an' it's like I will stay a while."'--P. 149.] + +'I chuse to call ut sedan-chair, an' chair ut shall be, little man,' +continued the Irishman. ''Twas a most amazin' chair--all lined wid +pink silk an' fitted wid red silk curtains. "Here ut is," sez the red +man. "Here ut is," sez the coolie, an' he grinned weakly-ways. "Is ut +any use to you?" sez the red man. "No," sez the coolie; "I'd like to +make a presint av ut to you."--"I am graciously pleased to accept that +same," sez the red man; an' at that all the coolies cried aloud in +fwhat was mint for cheerful notes, an' wint back to their diggin', +lavin' me alone in the shed. The red man saw me, an' his face grew +blue on his big, fat neck. "Fwhat d'you want here?" sez he. +"Standin'-room an' no more," sez I, "onless it may be fwhat ye niver +had, an' that's manners, ye rafflin' ruffian," for I was not goin' to +have the Service throd upon. "Out of this," sez he. "I'm in charge av +this section av construction."--"I'm in charge av mesilf," sez I, "an' +it's like I will stay a while. D'ye raffle much in these +parts?"--"Fwhat's that to you?" sez he. "Nothin'," sez I, "but a great +dale to you, for begad I'm thinkin' you get the full half av your +revenue from that sedan-chair. Is ut always raffled so?" I sez, an' +wid that I wint to a coolie to ask questions. Bhoys, that man's name +is Dearsley, an' he's been rafflin' that ould sedan-chair monthly +this matther av nine months. Ivry coolie on the section takes a +ticket--or he gives 'em the go--wanst a month on pay-day. Ivry coolie +that wins ut gives ut back to him, for 'tis too big to carry away, an' +he'd sack the man that thried to sell ut. That Dearsley has been +makin' the rowlin' wealth av Roshus by nefarious rafflin'. Think av +the burnin' shame to the sufferin' coolie-man that the army in Injia +are bound to protect an' nourish in their bosoms! Two thousand coolies +defrauded wanst a month!' + +'Dom t' coolies. Has't gotten t' cheer, man?' said Learoyd. + +'Hould on. Havin' onearthed this amazin' an' stupenjus fraud committed +by the man Dearsley, I hild a council av war; he thryin' all the time +to sejuce me into a fight wid opprobrious language. That sedan-chair +niver belonged by right to any foreman av coolies. 'Tis a king's chair +or a quane's. There's gold on ut an' silk an' all manner av +trapesemints. Bhoys, 'tis not for me to countenance any sort av +wrong-doin'--me bein' the ould man--but--anyway he has had ut nine +months, an' he dare not make throuble av ut was taken from him. Five +miles away, or ut may be six----' + +There was a long pause, and the jackals howled merrily. Learoyd bared +one arm, and contemplated it in the moonlight. Then he nodded partly +to himself and partly to his friends. Ortheris wriggled with +suppressed emotion. + +'I thought ye wud see the reasonableness av ut,' said Mulvaney. 'I +made bould to say as much to the man before. He was for a direct front +attack--fut, horse, an' guns--an' all for nothin', seem' that I had no +thransport to convey the machine away. "I will not argue wid you," sez +I, "this day, but subsequintly, Mister Dearsley, me rafflin' jool, we +talk ut out lengthways. 'Tis no good policy to swindle the naygur av +his hard-earned emolumints, an' by presint informashin'"--'twas the +kyart man that tould me--"ye've been perpethrating that same for nine +months. But I'm a just man," sez I, "an' overlookin' the presumpshin +that yondher settee wid the gilt top was not come by honust,"--at that +he turned sky-green, so I knew things was more thrue than +tellable--"not come by honust, I'm willin' to compound the felony for +this month's winnin's."' + +'Ah! Ho!' from Learoyd and Ortheris. + +'That man Dearsley's rushin' on his fate,' continued Mulvaney, +solemnly wagging his head. 'All Hell had no name bad enough for me +that tide. Faith, he called me a robber! Me! that was savin' him from +continuin' in his evil ways widout a remonstrince--an' to a man av +conscience a remonstrince may change the chune av his life. "'Tis not +for me to argue," sez I, "fwhatever ye are, Mister Dearsley, but, by +my hand, I'll take away the temptation for you that lies in that +sedan-chair."--"You will have to fight me for ut," sez he, "for well I +know you will never dare make report to any one."--"Fight I will," sez +I, "but not this day, for I'm rejuced for want av nourishment."--"Ye're +an ould bould hand," sez he, sizin' up me an' down; "an' a jool of a +fight we will have. Eat now an' dhrink, an' go your way." Wid that he +gave me some hump an' whisky--good whisky--an' we talked av this an' +that the while. "It goes hard on me now," sez I, wipin' my mouth, "to +confiscate that piece of furniture, but justice is justice."--"Ye've +not got ut yet," sez he; "there's the fight between."--"There is," sez +I, "an' a good fight. Ye shall have the pick av the best quality in my +regimint for the dinner you have given this day." Thin I came hot-foot +to you two. Hould your tongue, the both. 'Tis this way. To-morrow we +three will go there an' he shall have his pick betune me an' Jock. +Jock's a deceivin' fighter, for he is all fat to the eye, an' he moves +slow. Now I'm all beef to the look, an' I move quick. By my reckonin' +the Dearsley man won't take me; so me an' Orth'ris'll see fair play. +Jock, I tell you, 'twill be big fightin'--whipped, wid the cream above +the jam. Afther the business 'twill take a good three av us--Jock'll +be very hurt--to haul away that sedan-chair.' + +'Palanquin.' This from Ortheris. + +'Fwhatever ut is, we must have ut. 'Tis the only sellin' piece av +property widin reach that we can get so cheap. An' fwhat's a fight +afther all? He has robbed the naygur-man, dishonust. We rob him honust +for the sake av the whisky he gave me.' + +'But wot'll we do with the bloomin' article when we've got it? Them +palanquins are as big as 'ouses, an' uncommon 'ard to sell, as +M'Cleary said when ye stole the sentry-box from the Curragh.' + +'Who's goin' to do t' fightin'?' said Learoyd, and Ortheris subsided. +The three returned to barracks without a word. Mulvaney's last +argument clinched the matter. This palanquin was property, vendible +and to be attained in the simplest and least embarrassing fashion. It +would eventually become beer. Great was Mulvaney. + +Next afternoon a procession of three formed itself and disappeared +into the scrub in the direction of the new railway line. Learoyd alone +was without care, for Mulvaney dived darkly into the future, and +little Ortheris feared the unknown. What befell at that interview in +the lonely pay-shed by the side of the half-built embankment, only a +few hundred coolies know, and their tale is a confusing one, running +thus:-- + +'We were at work. Three men in red coats came. They saw the +Sahib--Dearsley Sahib. They made oration; and noticeably the small +man among the red-coats. Dearsley Sahib also made oration, and used +many very strong words. Upon this talk they departed together to an +open space, and there the fat man in the red coat fought with Dearsley +Sahib after the custom of white men--with his hands, making no noise, +and never at all pulling Dearsley Sahib's hair. Such of us as were not +afraid beheld these things for just so long a time as a man needs to +cook the mid-day meal. The small man in the red coat had possessed +himself of Dearsley Sahib's watch. No, he did not steal that watch. He +held it in his hand, and at certain seasons made outcry, and the twain +ceased their combat, which was like the combat of young bulls in +spring. Both men were soon all red, but Dearsley Sahib was much more +red than the other. Seeing this, and fearing for his life--because we +greatly loved him--some fifty of us made shift to rush upon the +red-coats. But a certain man,--very black as to the hair, and in no +way to be confused with the small man, or the fat man who +fought,--that man, we affirm, ran upon us, and of us he embraced some +ten or fifty in both arms, and beat our heads together, so that our +livers turned to water, and we ran away. It is not good to interfere +in the fightings of white men. After that Dearsley Sahib fell and did +not rise, these men jumped upon his stomach and despoiled him of all +his money, and attempted to fire the pay-shed, and departed. Is it +true that Dearsley Sahib makes no complaint of these latter things +having been done? We were senseless with fear, and do not at all +remember. There was no palanquin near the pay-shed. What do we know +about palanquins? Is it true that Dearsley Sahib does not return to +this place, on account of his sickness, for ten days? This is the +fault of those bad men in the red coats, who should be severely +punished; for Dearsley Sahib is both our father and mother, and we +love him much. Yet, if Dearsley Sahib does not return to this place at +all, we will speak the truth. There was a palanquin, for the up-keep +of which we were forced to pay nine-tenths of our monthly wage. On +such mulctings Dearsley Sahib allowed us to make obeisance to him +before the palanquin. What could we do? We were poor men. He took a +full half of our wages. Will the Government repay us those moneys? +Those three men in red coats bore the palanquin upon their shoulders +and departed. All the money that Dearsley Sahib had taken from us was +in the cushions of that palanquin. Therefore they stole it. Thousands +of rupees were there--all our money. It was our bank-box, to fill +which we cheerfully contributed to Dearsley Sahib three-sevenths of +our monthly wage. Why does the white man look upon us with the eye of +disfavour? Before God, there was a palanquin, and now there is no +palanquin; and if they send the police here to make inquisition, we +can only say that there never has been any palanquin. Why should a +palanquin be near these works? We are poor men, and we know nothing.' + +Such is the simplest version of the simplest story connected with the +descent upon Dearsley. From the lips of the coolies I received it. +Dearsley himself was in no condition to say anything, and Mulvaney +preserved a massive silence, broken only by the occasional licking of +the lips. He had seen a fight so gorgeous that even his power of +speech was taken from him. I respected that reserve until, three days +after the affair, I discovered in a disused stable in my quarters a +palanquin of unchastened splendour--evidently in past days the litter +of a queen. The pole whereby it swung between the shoulders of the +bearers was rich with the painted _papier-maché_ of Cashmere. The +shoulder-pads were of yellow silk. The panels of the litter itself +were ablaze with the loves of all the gods and goddesses of the Hindu +Pantheon--lacquer on cedar. The cedar sliding doors were fitted with +hasps of translucent Jaipur enamel and ran in grooves shod with +silver. The cushions were of brocaded Delhi silk, and the curtains +which once hid any glimpse of the beauty of the king's palace were +stiff with gold. Closer investigation showed that the entire fabric +was everywhere rubbed and discoloured by time and wear; but even +thus it was sufficiently gorgeous to deserve housing on the threshold +of a royal zenana. I found no fault with it, except that it was in my +stable. Then, trying to lift it by the silver-shod shoulder-pole, I +laughed. The road from Dearsley's pay-shed to the cantonment was a +narrow and uneven one, and, traversed by three very inexperienced +palanquin-bearers, one of whom was sorely battered about the head, +must have been a path of torment. Still I did not quite recognise the +right of the three musketeers to turn me into a 'fence' for stolen +property. + + [Illustration: 'Nine roun's they were even matched, an' at the + tenth----.'--P. 157.] + +'I'm askin' you to warehouse ut,' said Mulvaney, when he was brought +to consider the question. 'There's no steal in ut. Dearsley tould us +we cud have ut if we fought. Jock fought--an', oh, Sorr, when the +throuble was at uts finest an' Jock was bleedin' like a stuck pig, an' +little Orth'ris was shquealin' on one leg chewin' big bites out av +Dearsley's watch, I wud ha' given my place at the fight to have had +you see wan round. He tuk Jock, as I suspicioned he would, an' Jock +was deceptive. Nine roun's they were even matched, an' at the +tenth---- About that palanquin now. There's not the least throuble in +the world, or we wud not ha' brought ut here. You will ondherstand +that the Queen--God bless her!--does not reckon for a privit soldier +to kape elephints an' palanquins an' sich in barricks. Afther we had +dhragged ut down from Dearsley's through that cruel scrub that near +broke Orth'ris's heart, we set ut in the ravine for a night; an' a +thief av a porcupine an' a civet-cat av a jackal roosted in ut, as +well we knew in the mornin'. I put ut to you, Sorr, is an elegint +palanquin, fit for the princess, the natural abidin' place av all the +vermin in cantonmints? We brought ut to you, afther dhark, and put ut +in your shtable. Do not let your conscience prick. Think av the +rejoicin' men in the pay-shed yonder--lookin' at Dearsley wid his head +tied up in a towel--an' well knowin' that they can dhraw their pay +ivry month widout stoppages for riffles. Indirectly, Sorr, you have +rescued from an onprincipled son av a night-hawk the peasanthry av a +numerous village. An' besides, will I let that sedan-chair rot on our +hands? Not I. 'Tis not every day a piece av pure joolry comes into the +market. There's not a king widin these forty miles'--he waved his hand +round the dusty horizon--'not a king wud not be glad to buy ut. Some +day mesilf, whin I have leisure, I'll take ut up along the road an' +dishpose av ut.' + +'How?' said I, for I knew the man was capable of anything. + +'Get into ut, av coorse, and keep wan eye open through the curtains. +Whin I see a likely man av the native persuasion, I will descind +blushin' from my canopy and say, "Buy a palanquin, ye black scutt?" I +will have to hire four men to carry me first, though; and that's +impossible till next pay-day.' + +Curiously enough, Learoyd, who had fought for the prize, and in the +winning secured the highest pleasure life had to offer him, was +altogether disposed to undervalue it, while Ortheris openly said it +would be better to break the thing up. Dearsley, he argued, might be a +many-sided man, capable, despite his magnificent fighting qualities, +of setting in motion the machinery of the civil law--a thing much +abhorred by the soldier. Under any circumstances their fun had come +and passed; the next pay-day was close at hand, when there would be +beer for all. Wherefore longer conserve the painted palanquin? + +'A first-class rifle-shot an' a good little man av your inches you +are,' said Mulvaney. 'But you niver had a head worth a soft-boiled +egg. 'Tis me has to lie awake av nights schamin' an' plottin' for the +three av us. Orth'ris, me son, 'tis no matther av a few gallons av +beer--no, nor twenty gallons--but tubs an' vats an' firkins in that +sedan-chair. Who ut was, an' what ut was, an' how ut got there, we do +not know; but I know in my bones that you an' me an' Jock wid his +sprained thumb will get a fortune thereby. Lave me alone, an' let me +think.' + +Meantime the palanquin stayed in my stall, the key of which was in +Mulvaney's hands. + +Pay-day came, and with it beer. It was not in experience to hope that +Mulvaney, dried by four weeks' drought, would avoid excess. Next +morning he and the palanquin had disappeared. He had taken the +precaution of getting three days' leave 'to see a friend on the +railway,' and the Colonel, well knowing that the seasonal outburst was +near, and hoping it would spend its force beyond the limits of his +jurisdiction, cheerfully gave him all he demanded. At this point +Mulvaney's history, as recorded in the mess-room, stopped. + +Ortheris carried it not much further. 'No, 'e wasn't drunk,' said the +little man loyally, 'the liquor was no more than feelin' its way round +inside of 'im; but 'e went an' filled that 'ole bloomin' palanquin +with bottles 'fore 'e went off. 'E's gone an' 'ired six men to carry +'im, an' I 'ad to 'elp 'im into 'is nupshal couch, 'cause 'e wouldn't +'ear reason. 'E's gone off in 'is shirt an' trousies, swearin' +tremenjus--gone down the road in the palanquin, wavin' 'is legs out o' +windy.' + +'Yes,' said I, 'but where?' + +'Now you arx me a question. 'E said 'e was goin' to sell that +palanquin, but from observations what happened when I was stuffin' +'im through the door, I fancy 'e's gone to the new embankment to mock +at Dearsley. 'Soon as Jock's off duty I'm goin' there to see if 'e's +safe--not Mulvaney, but t'other man. My saints, but I pity 'im as +'elps Terence out o' the palanquin when 'e's once fair drunk!' + +'He'll come back without harm,' I said. + +''Corse 'e will. On'y question is, what'll 'e be doin' on the road? +Killing Dearsley, like as not. 'E shouldn't 'a gone without Jock or +me.' + +Reinforced by Learoyd, Ortheris sought the foreman of the coolie-gang. +Dearsley's head was still embellished with towels. Mulvaney, drunk or +sober, would have struck no man in that condition, and Dearsley +indignantly denied that he would have taken advantage of the +intoxicated brave. + +'I had my pick o' you two,' he explained to Learoyd, 'and you got my +palanquin--not before I'd made my profit on it. Why'd I do harm when +everything's settled?' Your man _did_ come here--drunk as Davy's sow +on a frosty night--came a-purpose to mock me--stuck his head out of +the door an' called me a crucified hodman. I made him drunker, an' +sent him along. But I never touched him.' + +To these things Learoyd, slow to perceive the evidences of sincerity, +answered only, 'If owt comes to Mulvaaney 'long o' you, I'll gripple +you, clouts or no clouts on your ugly head, an' I'll draw t' throat +twistyways, man. See there now.' + +The embassy removed itself, and Dearsley, the battered, laughed alone +over his supper that evening. + +Three days passed--a fourth and a fifth. The week drew to a close and +Mulvaney did not return. He, his royal palanquin, and his six +attendants, had vanished into air. A very large and very tipsy +soldier, his feet sticking out of the litter of a reigning princess, +is not a thing to travel along the ways without comment. Yet no man of +all the country round had seen any such wonder. He was, and he was +not; and Learoyd suggested the immediate smashment of Dearsley as a +sacrifice to his ghost. Ortheris insisted that all was well, and in +the light of past experience his hopes seemed reasonable. + +'When Mulvaney goes up the road,' said he, ''e's like to go a very +long ways up, specially when 'e's so blue drunk as 'e is now. But what +gits me is 'is not bein' 'eard of pullin' wool off the niggers +somewheres about. That don't look good. The drink must ha' died out in +'im by this, unless 'e's broke a bank, an' then--why don't 'e come +back? 'E didn't ought to ha' gone off without us.' + +Even Ortheris's heart sank at the end of the seventh day, for half the +regiment were out scouring the countryside, and Learoyd had been +forced to fight two men who hinted openly that Mulvaney had deserted. +To do him justice, the Colonel laughed at the notion, even when it was +put forward by his much-trusted Adjutant. + +'Mulvaney would as soon think of deserting as you would,' said he. +'No; he's either fallen into a mischief among the villagers--and yet +that isn't likely, for he'd blarney himself out of the Pit; or else he +is engaged on urgent private affairs--some stupendous devilment that +we shall hear of at mess after it has been the round of the +barrack-rooms. The worst of it is that I shall have to give him +twenty-eight days' confinement at least for being absent without +leave, just when I most want him to lick the new batch of recruits +into shape. I never knew a man who could put a polish on young +soldiers as quickly as Mulvaney can. How does he do it?' + +'With blarney and the buckle-end of a belt, Sir,' said the Adjutant. +'He is worth a couple of non-commissioned officers when we are dealing +with an Irish draft, and the London lads seem to adore him. The worst +of it is that if he goes to the cells the other two are neither to +hold nor to bind till he comes out again. I believe Ortheris preaches +mutiny on those occasions, and I know that the mere presence of +Learoyd mourning for Mulvaney kills all the cheerfulness of his room. +The sergeants tell me that he allows no man to laugh when he feels +unhappy. They are a queer gang.' + +'For all that, I wish we had a few more of them. I like a +well-conducted regiment, but these pasty-faced, shifty-eyed, +mealy-mouthed young slouchers from the Depot worry me sometimes with +their offensive virtue. They don't seem to have backbone enough to do +anything but play cards and prowl round the married quarters. I +believe I'd forgive that old villain on the spot if he turned up with +any sort of explanation that I could in decency accept.' + +'Not likely to be much difficulty about that, Sir,' said the Adjutant. +'Mulvaney's explanations are only one degree less wonderful than his +performances. They say that when he was in the Black Tyrone, before he +came to us, he was discovered on the banks of the Liffey trying to +sell his colonel's charger to a Donegal dealer as a perfect lady's +hack. Shackbolt commanded the Tyrone then.' + +'Shackbolt must have had apoplexy at the thought of his ramping +war-horses answering to that description. He used to buy unbacked +devils, and tame them on some pet theory of starvation. What did +Mulvaney say?' + +'That he was a member of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to +Animals, anxious to "sell the poor baste where he would get something +to fill out his dimples." Shackbolt laughed, but I fancy that was why +Mulvaney exchanged to ours.' + +'I wish he were back,' said the Colonel; 'for I like him and believe +he likes me.' + +That evening, to cheer our souls, Learoyd, Ortheris, and I went into +the waste to smoke out a porcupine. All the dogs attended, but even +their clamour--and they began to discuss the shortcomings of +porcupines before they left cantonments--could not take us out of +ourselves. A large, low moon turned the tops of the plume-grass to +silver, and the stunted camelthorn bushes and sour tamarisks into the +likenesses of trooping devils. The smell of the sun had not left the +earth, and little aimless winds blowing across the rose-gardens to the +southward brought the scent of dried roses and water. Our fire once +started, and the dogs craftily disposed to wait the dash of the +porcupine, we climbed to the top of a rain-scarred hillock of earth, +and looked across the scrub seamed with cattle paths, white with the +long grass, and dotted with spots of level pond-bottom, where the +snipe would gather in winter. + +'This,' said Ortheris, with a sigh, as he took in the unkempt +desolation of it all, 'this is sanguinary. This is unusually +sanguinary. Sort o' mad country. Like a grate when the fire's put out +by the sun.' He shaded his eyes against the moonlight. 'An' there's a +loony dancin' in the middle of it all. Quite right. I'd dance too if I +wasn't so downheart.' + +There pranced a Portent in the face of the moon--a huge and ragged +spirit of the waste, that flapped its wings from afar. It had risen +out of the earth; it was coming towards us, and its outline was never +twice the same. The toga, tablecloth, or dressing-gown, whatever the +creature wore, took a hundred shapes. Once it stopped on a +neighbouring mound and flung all its legs and arms to the winds. + +'My, but that scarecrow 'as got 'em bad!' said Ortheris. 'Seems like +if 'e comes any furder we'll 'ave to argify with 'im.' + +Learoyd raised himself from the dirt as a bull clears his flanks of +the wallow. And as a bull bellows, so he, after a short minute at +gaze, gave tongue to the stars. + +'MULVAANEY! MULVAANEY! A-hoo!' + +Oh then it was that we yelled, and the figure dipped into the hollow, +till, with a crash of rending grass, the lost one strode up to the +light of the fire, and disappeared to the waist in a wave of joyous +dogs! Then Learoyd and Ortheris gave greeting, bass and falsetto +together, both swallowing a lump in the throat. + + [Illustration: There pranced a Portent in the face of the + moon.--P. 166.] + +'You damned fool!' said they, and severally pounded him with their +fists. + +'Go easy!' he answered; wrapping a huge arm round each. 'I would have +you to know that I am a god, to be treated as such--tho', by my faith, +I fancy I've got to go to the guard-room just like a privit soldier.' + +The latter part of the sentence destroyed the suspicions raised by the +former. Any one would have been justified in regarding Mulvaney as +mad. He was hatless and shoeless, and his shirt and trousers were +dropping off him. But he wore one wondrous garment--a gigantic cloak +that fell from collar-bone to heel--of pale pink silk, wrought all +over in cunningest needlework of hands long since dead, with the loves +of the Hindu gods. The monstrous figures leaped in and out of the +light of the fire as he settled the folds round him. + +Ortheris handled the stuff respectfully for a moment while I was +trying to remember where I had seen it before. Then he screamed, 'What +_'ave_ you done with the palanquin? You're wearin' the linin'.' + +'I am,' said the Irishman, 'an' by the same token the 'broidery is +scrapin' my hide off. I've lived in this sumpshus counterpane for four +days. Me son, I begin to ondherstand why the naygur is no use. Widout +me boots, an' me trousies like an openwork stocking on a gyurl's leg +at a dance, I begin to feel like a naygur-man--all fearful an' +timoreous. Give me a pipe an' I'll tell on.' + +He lit a pipe, resumed his grip of his two friends, and rocked to and +fro in a gale of laughter. + +'Mulvaney,' said Ortheris sternly, ''taint no time for laughin'. +You've given Jock an' me more trouble than you're worth. You 'ave been +absent without leave an' you'll go into cells for that; an' you 'ave +come back disgustin'ly dressed an' most improper in the linin' o' that +bloomin' palanquin. Instid of which you laugh. An' _we_ thought you +was dead all the time.' + +'Bhoys,' said the culprit, still shaking gently, 'whin I've done my +tale you may cry if you like, an' little Orth'ris here can thrample my +inside out. Ha' done an' listen. My performinces have been stupenjus: +my luck has been the blessed luck av the British Army--an' there's no +betther than that. I went out dhrunk an' dhrinkin' in the palanquin, +and I have come back a pink god. Did any of you go to Dearsley afther +my time was up? He was at the bottom of ut all.' + +'Ah said so,' murmured Learoyd. 'To-morrow ah'll smash t' face in upon +his heead.' + +'Ye will not. Dearsley's a jool av a man. Afther Ortheris had put me +into the palanquin an' the six bearer-men were gruntin' down the +road, I tuk thought to mock Dearsley for that fight. So I tould thim, +"Go to the embankmint," and there, bein' most amazin' full, I shtuck +my head out av the concern an' passed compliments wid Dearsley. I must +ha' miscalled him outrageous, for whin I am that way the power av the +tongue comes on me. I can bare remimber tellin' him that his mouth +opened endways like the mouth av a skate, which was thrue afther +Learoyd had handled ut; an' I clear remimber his takin' no manner nor +matter av offence, but givin' me a big dhrink of beer. 'Twas the beer +did the thrick, for I crawled back into the palanquin, steppin' on me +right ear wid me left foot, an' thin I slept like the dead. Wanst I +half roused, an' begad the noise in my head was tremenjus--roarin' and +rattlin' an' poundin', such as was quite new to me. "Mother av Mercy," +thinks I, "phwat a concertina I will have on my shoulders whin I +wake!" An' wid that I curls mysilf up to sleep before ut should get +hould on me. Bhoys, that noise was not dhrink, 'twas the rattle av a +thrain!' + +There followed an impressive pause. + +'Yes, he had put me on a thrain--put me palanquin an' all, an' six +black assassins av his own coolies that was in his nefarious +confidence, on the flat av a ballast-thruck, and we were rowlin' an' +bowlin' along to Benares. Glory be that I did not wake up thin an' +introjuce mysilf to the coolies. As I was sayin' I slept for the +betther part av a day an' a night. But remimber you, that that man +Dearsley had packed me off on wan av his material-thrains to Benares, +all for to make me overstay my leave an' get me into the cells.' + +The explanation was an eminently rational one. Benares lay at least +ten hours by rail from the cantonments, and nothing in the world could +have saved Mulvaney from arrest as a deserter had he appeared there in +the apparel of his orgies. Dearsley had not forgotten to take revenge. +Learoyd, drawing back a little, began to play soft blows over selected +portions of Mulvaney's body. His thoughts were away on the embankment, +and they meditated evil for Dearsley. Mulvaney continued:-- + +'Whin I was full awake the palanquin was set down in a street, I +suspicioned, for I cud hear people passin' an' talkin'. But I knew +well I was far from home. There is a queer smell upon our +cantonments--a smell av dried earth and brick-kilns wid whiffs av +cavalry stable-litter. This place smelt marigold flowers an' bad +water, an' wanst somethin' alive came an' blew heavy with his muzzle +at the chink av the shutter. "It's in a village I am," thinks I to +mysilf, "an' the parochial buffalo is investigatin' the palanquin." +But anyways I had no desire to move. Only lie still whin you're in +foreign parts an' the standin' luck av the British Army will carry ye +through. That is an epigram. I made ut. + +'Thin a lot av whishperin' divils surrounded the palanquin. "Take ut +up," sez wan man. "But who'll pay us?" sez another. "The Maharanee's +minister, av coorse," sez the man. "Oho!" sez I to mysilf, "I'm a +quane in me own right, wid a minister to pay me expenses. I'll be an +emperor if I lie still long enough; but this is no village I've +found." I lay quiet, but I gummed me right eye to a crack av the +shutters, an' I saw that the whole street was crammed wid palanquins +an' horses, an' a sprinklin' av naked priests all yellow powder an' +tigers' tails. But I may tell you, Orth'ris an' you, Learoyd, that av +all the palanquins ours was the most imperial an' magnificent. Now a +palanquin means a native lady all the world over, except whin a +soldier av the quane happens to be takin' a ride. "Women an' priests!" +sez I. "Your father's son is in the right pew this time, Terence. +There will be proceedin's." Six black divils in pink muslin tuk up the +palanquin, an' oh! but the rowlin' an' the rockin' made me sick. Thin +we got fair jammed among the palanquins--not more than fifty av +them--an' we grated an' bumped like Queenstown potato-smacks in a +runnin' tide. I cud hear the women gigglin' and squirkin' in their +palanquins, but mine was the royal equipage. They made way for ut, +an', begad, the pink muslin men o' mine were howlin', "Room for the +Maharanee av Gokral-Seetarun." Do you know aught av the lady, Sorr?' + +'Yes,' said I. 'She is a very estimable old queen of the Central +Indian States, and they say she is fat. How on earth could she go to +Benares without all the city knowing her palanquin?' + +''Twas the eternal foolishness av the naygur-man. They saw the +palanquin lying loneful an' forlornsome, an' the beauty av ut, after +Dearsley's men had dhropped ut and gone away, an' they gave ut the +best name that occurred to thim. Quite right too. For aught we know +the ould lady was thravellin' _incog_--like me. I'm glad to hear she's +fat. I was no light weight mysilf, an' my men were mortial anxious to +dhrop me under a great big archway promiscuously ornamented wid the +most improper carvin's an' cuttin's I iver saw. Begad! they made me +blush--like a--like a Maharanee.' + +'The temple of Prithi-Devi,' I murmured, remembering the monstrous +horrors of that sculptured archway at Benares. + +'Pretty Devilskins, savin' your presence, Sorr! There was nothin' +pretty about ut, except me. 'Twas all half dhark, an' whin the coolies +left they shut a big black gate behind av us, an' half a company av +fat yellow priests began pully-haulin' the palanquins into a dharker +place yet--a big stone hall full av pillars, an' gods, an' incense, +an' all manner av similar thruck. The gate disconcerted me, for I +perceived I wud have to go forward to get out, my retreat bein' cut +off. By the same token a good priest makes a bad palanquin-coolie. +Begad! they nearly turned me inside out draggin' the palanquin to the +temple. Now the disposishin av the forces inside was this way. The +Maharanee av Gokral-Seetarun--that was me--lay by the favour av +Providence on the far left flank behind the dhark av a pillar carved +with elephints' heads. The remainder av the palanquins was in a big +half circle facing in to the biggest, fattest, an' most amazin' +she-god that iver I dreamed av. Her head ran up into the black above +us, an' her feet stuck out in the light av a little fire av melted +butter that a priest was feedin' out av a butter-dish. Thin a man +began to sing an' play on somethin' back in the dhark, an' 'twas a +queer song. Ut made my hair lift on the back av my neck. Thin the +doors av all the palanquins slid back, an' the women bundled out. I +saw what I'll niver see again. 'Twas more glorious than +thransformations at a pantomime, for they was in pink an' blue an' +silver an' red an' grass green, wid dimonds an' imralds an' great red +rubies all over thim. But that was the least part av the glory. O +bhoys, they were more lovely than the like av any loveliness in hiven; +ay, their little bare feet were better than the white hands av a +lord's lady, an' their mouths were like puckered roses, an' their eyes +were bigger an' dharker than the eyes av any livin' women I've seen. +Ye may laugh, but I'm speakin' truth. I niver saw the like, an' niver +I will again.' + +'Seeing that in all probability you were watching the wives and +daughters of most of the kings of India, the chances are that you +won't,' I said, for it was dawning on me that Mulvaney had stumbled +upon a big Queens' Praying at Benares. + +'I niver will,' he said mournfully. 'That sight doesn't come twist to +any man. It made me ashamed to watch. A fat priest knocked at my door. +I didn't think he'd have the insolince to disturb the Maharanee av +Gokral-Seetarun, so I lay still. "The old cow's asleep," sez he to +another. "Let her be," sez that. "'Twill be long before she has a +calf!" I might ha' known before he spoke that all a woman prays for in +Injia--an' for matter o' that in England too--is childher. That made +me more sorry I'd come, me bein', as you well know, a childless man.' + +He was silent for a moment, thinking of his little son, dead many +years ago. + +'They prayed, an' the butter-fires blazed up an' the incense turned +everything blue, an' between that an' the fires the women looked as +tho' they were all ablaze an' twinklin'. They took hold av the +she-god's knees, they cried out an' they threw themselves about, an' +that world-without-end-amen music was dhrivin' thim mad. Mother av +Hiven! how they cried, an' the ould she-god grinnin' above thim all so +scornful! The dhrink was dyin' out in me fast, an' I was thinkin' +harder than the thoughts wud go through my head--thinkin' how to get +out, an' all manner of nonsense as well. The women were rockin' in +rows, their di'mond belts clickin', an' the tears runnin' out betune +their hands, an' the lights were goin' lower an' dharker. Thin there +was a blaze like lightnin' from the roof, an' that showed me the +inside av the palanquin, an' at the end where my foot was, stood the +livin' spit an' image o' mysilf worked on the linin'. This man here, +ut was.' + +He hunted in the folds of his pink cloak, ran a hand under one, and +thrust into the firelight a foot-long embroidered presentment of the +great god Krishna, playing on a flute. The heavy jowl, the staring +eye, and the blue-black moustache of the god made up a far-off +resemblance to Mulvaney. + +'The blaze was gone in a wink, but the whole schame came to me thin. +I believe I was mad too. I slid the off-shutter open an' rowled out +into the dhark behind the elephint-head pillar, tucked up my trousies +to my knees, slipped off my boots an' tuk a general hould av all the +pink linin' av the palanquin. Glory be, ut ripped out like a woman's +dhriss when you tread on ut at a sergeants' ball, an' a bottle came +with ut. I tuk the bottle an' the next minut I was out av the dhark av +the pillar, the pink linin' wrapped round me most graceful, the music +thunderin' like kettledrums, an' a could draft blowin' round my bare +legs. By this hand that did ut, I was Krishna tootlin' on the +flute--the god that the rig'mental chaplain talks about. A sweet sight +I must ha' looked. I knew my eyes were big, and my face was wax-white, +an' at the worst I must ha' looked like a ghost. But they took me for +the livin' god. The music stopped, and the women were dead dumb, an' I +crooked my legs like a shepherd on a china basin, an' I did the +ghost-waggle with my feet as I had done ut at the rig'mental theatre +many times, an' I slid acrost the width av that temple in front av the +she-god tootlin' on the beer bottle.' + +'Wot did you toot?' demanded Ortheris the practical. + + [Illustration: 'I was Krishna tootlin' on the flute.'--P. 176.] + +'Me? Oh!' Mulvaney sprang up, suiting the action to the word, and +sliding gravely in front of us, a dilapidated but imposing deity in +the half light. 'I sang-- + + 'Only say + You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan. + Don't say nay, + Charmin' Judy Callaghan. + +I didn't know me own voice when I sang. An' oh! 'twas pitiful to see +the women. The darlin's were down on their faces. Whin I passed the +last wan I cud see her poor little fingers workin' one in another as +if she wanted to touch my feet. So I dhrew the tail av this pink +overcoat over her head for the greater honour, an' I slid into the +dhark on the other side av the temple, and fetched up in the arms av a +big fat priest. All I wanted was to get away clear. So I tuk him by +his greasy throat an' shut the speech out av him. "Out!" sez I. "Which +way, ye fat heathen?"--"Oh!" sez he. "Man," sez I. "White man, soldier +man, common soldier man. Where in the name av confusion is the back +door?" The women in the temple were still on their faces, an' a young +priest was holdin' out his arms above their heads. + +'"This way," sez my fat friend, duckin' behind a big bull-god an' +divin' into a passage. Thin I remimbered that I must ha' made the +miraculous reputation av that temple for the next fifty years. "Not +so fast," I sez, an' I held out both my hands wid a wink. That ould +thief smiled like a father. I tuk him by the back av the neck in case +he should be wishful to put a knife into me unbeknowst, an' I ran him +up an' down the passage twice to collect his sensibilities! "Be +quiet," sez he, in English. "Now you talk sense," I sez. "Fwhat'll you +give me for the use av that most iligant palanquin I have no time to +take away?"--"Don't tell," sez he. "Is ut like?" sez I. "But ye might +give me my railway fare. I'm far from my home an' I've done you a +service." Bhoys, 'tis a good thing to be a priest. The ould man niver +throubled himself to dhraw from a bank. As I will prove to you +subsequint, he philandered all round the slack av his clothes an' +began dribblin' ten-rupee notes, old gold mohurs, and rupees into my +hand till I could hould no more.' + +'You lie!' said Ortheris. 'You're mad or sunstrook. A native don't +give coin unless you cut it out o' 'im. 'Tain't nature.' + +'Then my lie an' my sunstroke is concealed under that lump av sod +yonder,' retorted Mulvaney unruffled, nodding across the scrub. 'An' +there's a dale more in nature than your squidgy little legs have iver +taken you to, Orth'ris, me son. Four hundred an' thirty-four rupees +by my reckonin', _an'_ a big fat gold necklace that I took from him as +a remimbrancer, was our share in that business.' + +'An' 'e give it you for love?' said Ortheris. + +'We were alone in that passage. Maybe I was a trifle too pressin', but +considher fwhat I had done for the good av the temple and the +iverlastin' joy av those women. 'Twas cheap at the price. I wud ha' +taken more if I cud ha' found 'ut. I turned the ould man upside down +at the last, but he was milked dhry. Thin he opened a door in another +passage an' I found mysilf up to my knees in Benares river-water, an' +bad smellin' ut is. More by token I had come out on the river-line +close to the burnin' ghat and contagious to a cracklin' corpse. This +was in the heart av the night, for I had been four hours in the +temple. There was a crowd av boats tied up, so I tuk wan an' wint +across the river. Thin I came home acrost country, lyin' up by day.' + +'How on earth did you manage?' I said. + +'How did Sir Frederick Roberts get from Cabul to Candahar? He marched +an' he niver tould how near he was to breakin' down. That's why he is +fwhat he is. An' now----' Mulvaney yawned portentously. 'Now I will go +an' give myself up for absince widout leave. It's eight-an'-twenty +days an' the rough end of the Colonel's tongue in orderly-room, any +way you look at ut. But 'tis cheap at the price.' + +'Mulvaney,' said I softly. 'If there happens to be any sort of excuse +that the Colonel can in any way accept, I have a notion that you'll +get nothing more than the dressing-down. The new recruits are in, +and----' + +'Not a word more, Sorr. Is ut excuses the old man wants? 'Tis not my +way, but he shall have thim. I'll tell him I was engaged in financial +operations connected wid a church,' and he flapped his way to +cantonments and the cells, singing lustily:-- + + 'So they sent a corp'ril's file, + And they put me in the gyard-room + For conduck unbecomin' of a soldier.' + +And when he was lost in the mist of the moonlight we could hear the +refrain:-- + + 'Bang upon the big drum, bash upon the cymbals, + As we go marchin' along, boys, oh! + For although in this campaign + There's no whisky nor champagne, + We'll keep our spirits goin' with a song, boys!' + +Therewith he surrendered himself to the joyful and almost weeping +guard, and was made much of by his fellows. But to the Colonel he said +that he had been smitten with sunstroke and had lain insensible on a +villager's cot for untold hours; and between laughter and good-will +the affair was smoothed over, so that he could, next day, teach the +new recruits how to 'Fear God, Honour the Queen, Shoot Straight, and +Keep Clean.' + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE TAKING OF LUNGTUNGPEN + + So we loosed a bloomin' volley, + An' we made the beggars cut, + An' when our pouch was emptied out, + We used the bloomin' butt, + Ho! My! + Don't yer come anigh, + When Tommy is a playin' with the baynit an' the butt. + + _Barrack Room Ballad._ + + +My friend Private Mulvaney told me this, sitting on the parapet of the +road to Dagshai, when we were hunting butterflies together. He had +theories about the Army, and coloured clay pipes perfectly. He said +that the young soldier is the best to work with, 'on account av the +surpassing innocinse av the child.' + +'Now, listen!' said Mulvaney, throwing himself full length on the wall +in the sun. 'I'm a born scutt av the barrick-room! The Army's mate an' +dhrink to me, bekaze I'm wan av the few that can't quit ut. I've put +in sivinteen years, an' the pipeclay's in the marrow av me. Av I cud +have kept out av wan big dhrink a month, I wud have been a Hon'ry +Lift'nint by this time--a nuisince to my betthers, a laughin'-shtock +to my equils, an' a curse to meself. Bein' fwhat I am, I'm Privit +Mulvaney, wid no good-conduc' pay an' a devourin' thirst. Always +barrin' me little frind Bobs Bahadur, I know as much about the Army as +most men.' + +I said something here. + +'Wolseley be shot! Betune you an' me an' that butterfly net, he's a +ramblin', incoherint sort av a divil, wid wan oi on the Quane an' the +Coort, an' the other on his blessed silf--everlastin'ly playing Saysar +an' Alexandrier rowled into a lump. Now Bobs is a sensible little man. +Wid Bobs an' a few three-year-olds, I'd swape any army av the earth +into a towel, an' throw it away aftherwards. Faith, I'm not jokin'! +'Tis the bhoys--the raw bhoys--that don't know fwhat a bullut manes, +an' wudn't care av they did--that dhu the work. They're crammed wid +bull-mate till they fairly _ramps_ wid good livin'; and thin, av they +don't fight, they blow each other's hids off. 'Tis the trut' I'm +tellin' you. They shud be kept on water an' rice in the hot weather; +but there'd be a mut'ny av 'twas done. + +'Did ye iver hear how Privit Mulvaney tuk the town av Lungtungpen? I +thought not! 'Twas the Lift'nint got the credit; but 'twas me planned +the schame. A little before I was inviladed from Burma, me an' +four-an'-twenty young wans undher a Lift'nint Brazenose was ruinin' +our dijeshins thryin' to catch dacoits. An' such double-ended divils I +niver knew! 'Tis only a _dah_ an' a Snider that makes a dacoit. Widout +thim, he's a paceful cultivator, an' felony for to shoot. We hunted, +an' we hunted, an' tuk fever an' elephints now an' again; but no +dacoits. Evenshually, we _puckarowed_ wan man. "Trate him tinderly," +sez the Lift'nint. So I tuk him away into the jungle, wid the Burmese +Interprut'r an' my clanin'-rod. Sez I to the man, "My paceful +squireen," sez I, "you shquot on your hunkers an' dimonstrate to _my_ +frind here, where _your_ frinds are whin they're at home?" Wid that I +introjuced him to the clanin'-rod, an' he comminst to jabber; the +Interprut'r interprutin' in betweens, an' me helpin' the Intilligince +Departmint wid my clanin'-rod whin the man misremimbered. + +'Prisintly, I learn that, acrost the river, about nine miles away, was +a town just dhrippin' wid dahs, an' bohs an' arrows, an' dacoits, an' +elephints, an' _jingles_. "Good!" sez I; "this office will now close!" + +'That night, I went to the Lift'nint an' communicates my information. +I never thought much of Lift'nint Brazenose till that night. He was +shtiff wid books an' the-ouries, an' all manner av thrimmin's no +manner av use. "Town did ye say?" sez he. "Accordin' to the-ouries av +War, we shud wait for reinforcemints."--"Faith!" thinks I, "we'd +betther dig our graves thin"; for the nearest throops was up to their +shtocks in the marshes out Mimbu way. "But," says the Lift'nint, +"since 'tis a speshil case, I'll make an excepshin. We'll visit this +Lungtungpen to-night." + + [Illustration: '"Shtrip, bhoys," sez I. "Shtrip to the buff, + an' shwim in where glory waits!"'--P. 185.] + +'The bhoys was fairly woild wid deloight whin I tould 'em; an', by +this an' that, they wint through the jungle like buck-rabbits. About +midnight we come to the shtrame which I had clane forgot to minshin to +my orficer. I was on, ahead, wid four bhoys, an' I thought that the +Lift'nint might want to the-ourise. "Shtrip, bhoys," sez I. "Shtrip to +the buff, an' shwim in where glory waits!"--"But I _can't_ shwim!" sez +two av thim. "To think I should live to hear that from a bhoy wid a +board-school edukashin!" sez I. "Take a lump av thimber, an' me an' +Conolly here will ferry ye over, ye young ladies!" + +'We got an ould tree-trunk, an' pushed off wid the kits an' the rifles +on it. The night was chokin' dhark, an' just as we was fairly +embarked, I heard the Lift'nint behind av me callin' out. "There's a +bit av a _nullah_ here, Sorr," sez I, "but I can feel the bottom +already." So I cud, for I was not a yard from the bank." + +'"Bit av a _nullah_! Bit av an eshtuary!" sez the Lift'nint. "Go on, +ye mad Irishman! Shtrip, bhoys!" I heard him laugh; an' the bhoys +began shtrippin' an' rollin' a log into the wather to put their kits +on. So me an' Conolly shtruck out through the warm wather wid our +log, an' the rest come on behind. + +'That shtrame was miles woide! Orth'ris, on the rear-rank log, +whispers we had got into the Thames below Sheerness by mistake. "Kape +on shwimmin', ye little blayguard," sez I, "an' don't go pokin' your +dirty jokes at the Irriwaddy."--"Silince, men!" sings out the +Lift'nint. So we shwum on into the black dhark, wid our chests on the +logs, trustin' in the Saints an' the luck av the British Army. + +'Evenshually, we hit ground--a bit av sand--an' a man. I put my heel +on the back av him. He skreeched an' ran. + +'"_Now_ we've done it!" sez Lift'nint Brazenose. "Where the Divil _is_ +Lungtungpen?" There was about a minute and a half to wait. The bhoys +laid a hould av their rifles an' some thried to put their belts on; we +was marchin' wid fixed baynits av coorse. Thin we knew where +Lungtungpen was; for we had hit the river-wall av it in the dhark, an' +the whole town blazed wid thim messin' _jingles_ an' Sniders like a +cat's back on a frosty night. They was firin' all ways at wanst; but +over our hids into the shtrame. + +'"Have you got your rifles?" sez Brazenose. "Got 'em!" sez Orth'ris. +"I've got that thief Mulvaney's for all my back-pay, an' she'll kick +my heart sick wid that blunderin' long shtock av hers."--"Go on!" +yells Brazenose, whippin' his sword out. "Go on an' take the town! +An' the Lord have mercy on our sowls!" + + [Illustration: 'There was a _melly_ av a sumpshus kind for a + whoile.'--P. 187.] + +'Thin the bhoys gave wan divastatin' howl, an' pranced into the dhark, +feelin' for the town, an' blindin' an' stiffin' like Cavalry Ridin' +Masters whin the grass pricked their bare legs. I hammered wid the +butt at some bamboo-thing that felt wake, an' the rest come an' +hammered contagious, while the _jingles_ was jingling, an' feroshus +yells from inside was shplittin' our ears. We was too close under the +wall for thim to hurt us. + +'Evenshually, the thing, whatever ut was, bruk; an' the six-and-twinty +av us tumbled, wan after the other, naked as we was borrun, into the +town of Lungtungpen. There was a _melly_ av a sumpshus kind for a +whoile; but whether they tuk us, all white an' wet, for a new breed av +divil, or a new kind av dacoit, I don't know. They ran as though we +was both, an' we wint into thim, baynit an' butt, shriekin' wid +laughin'. There was torches in the shtreets, an' I saw little Orth'ris +rubbin' his showlther ivry time he loosed my long-shtock Martini; an' +Brazenose walkin' into the gang wid his sword, like Diarmid av the +Gowlden Collar--barring he hadn't a stitch av clothin' on him. We +diskivered elephints wid dacoits under their bellies, an', what wid +wan thing an' another, we was busy till mornin' takin' possession av +the town of Lungtungpen. + +'Thin we halted an' formed up, the wimmen howlin' in the houses an' +Lift'nint Brazenose blushin' pink in the light av the mornin' sun. +'Twas the most ondasint p'rade I iver tuk a hand in. Foive-and-twenty +privits an' an orficer av the Line in review ordher, an' not as much +as wud dust a fife betune 'em all in the way of clothin'! Eight av us +had their belts an' pouches on; but the rest had gone in wid a handful +av cartridges an' the skin God gave thim. _They_ was as nakid as +Vanus. + +'"Number off from the right!" sez the Lift'nint. "Odd numbers fall out +to dress; even numbers pathrol the town till relieved by the dressing +party." Let me tell you, pathrollin' a town wid nothing on is an +ex_pay_rience. I pathrolled for tin minutes, an' begad, before 'twas +over, I blushed. The women laughed so. I niver blushed before or +since; but I blushed all over my carkiss thin. Orth'ris didn't +pathrol. He sez only, "Portsmith Barricks an' the 'Aard av a Sunday!" +Thin he lay down an' rowled any ways wid laughin'. + +'Whin we was all dhressed, we counted the dead--sivinty-foive dacoits +besides wounded. We tuk five elephints, a hunder' an' sivinty Sniders, +two hunder' dahs, and a lot av other burglarious thruck. Not a man av +us was hurt--excep' maybe the Lift'nint, an' he from the shock to his +dasincy. + +'The Headman av Lungtungpen, who surrinder'd himself, asked the +Interprut'r--"Av the English fight like that wid their clo'es off, +what in the wurruld do they do wid their clo'es on?" Orth'ris began +rowlin' his eyes an' crackin' his fingers an' dancin' a step-dance for +to impress the Headman. He ran to his house; an' we spint the rest av +the day carryin' the Lift'nint on our showlthers round the town, an' +playin' wid the Burmese babies--fat, little, brown little divils, as +pretty as picturs. + +'Whin I was inviladed for the dysent'ry to India, I sez to the +Lift'nint, "Sorr," sez I, "you've the makin's in you av a great man; +but, av you'll let an ould sodger spake, you're too fond of +the-ourisin'." He shuk hands wid me and sez, "Hit high, hit low, +there's no plasin' you, Mulvaney. You've seen me waltzin' through +Lungtungpen like a Red Injin widout the war-paint, an' you say I'm too +fond av the-ourisin'?"--"Sorr," sez I, for I loved the bhoy; "I wud +waltz wid you in that condishin through _Hell_, an' so wud the rest av +the men!" Thin I wint downshtrame in the flat an' left him my +blessin'. May the Saints carry ut where ut should go, for he was a +fine upstandin' young orficer. + +'To reshume. Fwhat I've said jist shows the use av three-year-olds. +Wud fifty seasoned sodgers have taken Lungtungpen in the dhark that +way? No! They'd know the risk av fever and chill. Let alone the +shootin'. Two hundher' might have done ut. But the three-year-olds +know little an' care less; an' where there's no fear, there's no +danger. Catch thim young, feed thim high, an' by the honour av that +great little man Bobs, behind a good orficer 'tisn't only dacoits +they'd smash wid their clo'es off--'tis Con-ti-nental Ar-r-r-mies! +They tuk Lungtungpen nakid; an' they'd take St. Pethersburg in their +dhrawers! Begad, they would that! + +'Here's your pipe, Sorr. Shmoke her tinderly wid honey-dew, afther +letting the reek av the Canteen plug die away. But 'tis no good, +thanks to you all the same, fillin' my pouch wid your chopped hay. +Canteen baccy's like the Army. It shpoils a man's taste for moilder +things.' + +So saying, Mulvaney took up his butterfly-net, and returned to +barracks. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS + + Oh! Where would I be when my froat was dry? + Oh! Where would I be when the bullets fly? + Oh! Where would I be when I come to die? + Why, + Somewheres anigh my chum. + If 'e's liquor 'e'll give me some, + If I'm dyin' 'e'll 'old my 'ead, + An' 'e'll write 'em 'Ome when I'm dead.-- + Gawd send us a trusty chum! + + _Barrack Room Ballad._ + + +My friends Mulvaney and Ortheris had gone on a shooting expedition for +one day. Learoyd was still in hospital, recovering from fever picked +up in Burma. They sent me an invitation to join them, and were +genuinely pained when I brought beer--almost enough beer to satisfy +two Privates of the Line--and Me. + +''Twasn't for that we bid you welkim, Sorr,' said Mulvaney sulkily. +''Twas for the pleasure av your comp'ny.' + +Ortheris came to the rescue with--'Well, 'e won't be none the worse +for bringin' liquor with 'im. We ain't a file o' Dooks. We're bloomin' +Tommies, ye cantankris Hirishman; an' 'ere's your very good 'ealth!' + +We shot all the forenoon, and killed two pariah-dogs, four green +parrots, sitting, one kite by the burning-ghaut, one snake flying, one +mud-turtle, and eight crows. Game was plentiful. Then we sat down to +tiffin--'bull-mate an' bran bread,' Mulvaney called it--by the side of +the river, and took pot shots at the crocodiles in the intervals of +cutting up the food with our only pocket-knife. Then we drank up all +the beer, and threw the bottles into the water and fired at them. +After that, we eased belts and stretched ourselves on the warm sand +and smoked. We were too lazy to continue shooting. + +Ortheris heaved a big sigh, as he lay on his stomach with his head +between his fists. Then he swore quietly into the blue sky. + +'Fwhat's that for?' said Mulvaney. 'Have ye not drunk enough?' + +'Tott'nim Court Road, an' a gal I fancied there. Wot's the good of +sodgerin'?' + +'Orth'ris, me son,' said Mulvaney hastily, ''tis more than likely +you've got throuble in your inside wid the beer. I feel that way +mesilf whin my liver gets rusty.' + + [Illustration: Ortheris heaved a big sigh.--P. 192.] + +Ortheris went on slowly, not heeding the interruption:-- + +'I'm a Tommy--a bloomin', eight-anna, dog-stealin' Tommy, with a +number instead of a decent name. Wot's the good o' me? If I 'ad a +stayed at 'Ome, I might a married that gal and a kep' a little shorp +in the 'Ammersmith 'Igh.--"S. Orth'ris, Prac-ti-cal Taxi-der-mist." +With a stuff' fox, like they 'as in the Haylesbury Dairies, in the +winder, an' a little case of blue and yaller glass-heyes, an' a little +wife to call "shorp!" "shorp!" when the door-bell rung. As it _his_, +I'm on'y a Tommy--a Bloomin' Gawd-forsaken Beer-swillin' Tommy. "Rest +on your harms--_'versed_. Stan' at--_hease_; _'shun_. 'Verse--_harms_. +Right an' lef'--_tarrn_. Slow--_march_. 'Alt--_front_. Rest on your +harms--_'versed_. With blank-cartridge--_load_." An' that's the end o' +me.' He was quoting fragments from Funeral Parties' Orders. + +'Stop ut!' shouted Mulvaney. 'Whin you've fired into nothin' as often +as me, over a better man than yoursilf, you will not make a mock av +thim orders. 'Tis worse than whistlin' the _Dead March_ in barricks. +An' you full as a tick, an' the sun cool, an' all an' all! I take +shame for you. You're no better than a Pagin--you an' your +firin'-parties an' your glass-eyes. Won't _you_ stop ut, Sorr?' + +What could I do? Could I tell Ortheris anything that he did not know +of the pleasures of his life? I was not a Chaplain nor a Subaltern, +and Ortheris had a right to speak as he thought fit. + +'Let him run, Mulvaney,' I said. 'It's the beer.' + +'No! 'Tisn't the beer,' said Mulvaney. 'I know fwhat's comin'. He's +tuk this way now an' agin, an' it's bad--it's bad--for I'm fond av the +bhoy.' + +Indeed, Mulvaney seemed needlessly anxious; but I knew that he looked +after Ortheris in a fatherly way. + +'Let me talk, let me talk,' said Ortheris dreamily. 'D'you stop your +parrit screamin' of a 'ot day when the cage is a-cookin' 'is pore +little pink toes orf, Mulvaney?' + +'Pink toes! D'ye mane to say you've pink toes undher your bullswools, +ye blandanderin','--Mulvaney gathered himself together for a terrific +denunciation--'school-misthress! Pink toes! How much Bass wid the +label did that ravin' child dhrink?' + +''Tain't Bass,' said Ortheris. 'It's a bitterer beer nor that. It's +'ome-sickness!' + +'Hark to him! An' he goin' Home in the _Sherapis_ in the inside av +four months!' + +'I don't care. It's all one to me. 'Ow d'you know I ain't 'fraid o' +dyin' 'fore I gets my discharge paipers?' He recommenced, in a +sing-song voice, the Orders. + +I had never seen this side of Ortheris's character before, but +evidently Mulvaney had, and attached serious importance to it. While +Ortheris babbled, with his head on his arms, Mulvaney whispered to +me:-- + +'He's always tuk this way whin he's been checked overmuch by the +childher they make Sarjints nowadays. That an' havin' nothin' to do. I +can't make ut out anyways.' + +'Well, what does it matter? Let him talk himself through.' + +Ortheris began singing a parody of _The Ramrod Corps_, full of +cheerful allusions to battle, murder, and sudden death. He looked out +across the river as he sang; and his face was quite strange to me. +Mulvaney caught me by the elbow to ensure attention. + +'Matther? It matthers everything! 'Tis some sort av fit that's on him. +I've seen ut. 'Twill hould him all this night, an' in the middle av it +he'll get out av his cot an' go rakin' in the rack for his +'courtremints. Thin he'll come over to me an' say, "I'm goin' to +Bombay. Answer for me in the mornin'." Thin me an' him will fight as +we've done before--him to go an' me to hould him--an' so we'll both +come on the books for disturbin' in barricks. I've belted him, an' +I've bruk his head, an' I've talked to him, but 'tis no manner av use +whin the fit's on him. He's as good a bhoy as ever stepped whin his +mind's clear. I know fwhat's comin', though, this night in barricks. +Lord send he doesn't loose on me whin I rise to knock him down. 'Tis +that that's in my mind day an' night.' + +This put the case in a much less pleasant light, and fully accounted +for Mulvaney's anxiety. He seemed to be trying to coax Ortheris out of +the fit; for he shouted down the bank where the boy was lying:-- + +'Listen now, you wid the "pore pink toes" an' the glass-eyes! Did you +shwim the Irriwaddy at night, behin' me, as a bhoy shud; or were you +hidin' under a bed, as you was at Ahmid Kheyl?' + +This was at once a gross insult and a direct lie, and Mulvaney meant +it to bring on a fight. But Ortheris seemed shut up in some sort of +trance. He answered slowly, without a sign of irritation, in the same +cadenced voice as he had used for his firing-party orders:-- + +'_Hi_ swum the Irriwaddy in the night, as you know, for to take the +town of Lungtungpen, nakid an' without fear. _Hand_ where I was at +Ahmed Kheyl you know, and four bloomin' Paythans know too. But that +was summat to do, an' I didn't think o' dyin'. Now I'm sick to go +'Ome--go 'Ome--go 'Ome! No, I ain't mammysick, because my uncle brung +me up, but I'm sick for London again; sick for the sounds of 'er, an' +the sights of 'er, and the stinks of 'er; orange-peel and hasphalte +an' gas comin' in over Vaux'all Bridge. Sick for the rail goin' down +to Box 'Ill, with your gal on your knee an' a new clay pipe in your +face. That, an' the Stran' lights where you knows ev'ry one, an' the +Copper that takes you up is a old friend that tuk you up before, when +you was a little, smitchy boy lying loose 'tween the Temple an' the +Dark Harches. No bloomin' guard-mountin', no bloomin' rotten-stone, +nor khaki, an' yourself your own master with a gal to take an' see the +Humaners practisin' a-hookin' dead corpses out of the Serpentine o' +Sundays. An' I lef' all that for to serve the Widder beyond the seas, +where there ain't no women and there ain't no liquor worth 'avin', and +there ain't nothin' to see, nor do, nor say, nor feel, nor think. Lord +love you, Stanley Orth'ris, but you're a bigger bloomin' fool than the +rest o' the reg'ment and Mulvaney wired together! There's the Widder +sittin' at 'Ome with a gold crownd on 'er 'ead; and 'ere am Hi, +Stanley Orth'ris, the Widder's property, a rottin' FOOL!' + +His voice rose at the end of the sentence, and he wound up with a +six-shot Anglo-Vernacular oath. Mulvaney said nothing, but looked at +me as if he expected that I could bring peace to poor Ortheris's +troubled brain. + +I remembered once at Rawal Pindi having seen a man, nearly mad with +drink, sobered by being made a fool of. Some regiments may know what I +mean. I hoped that we might slake off Ortheris in the same way, though +he was perfectly sober. So I said:-- + +'What's the use of grousing there, and speaking against The Widow?' + +'I didn't!' said Ortheris. 'S'elp me, Gawd, I never said a word agin +'er, an' I wouldn't--not if I was to desert this minute!' + +Here was my opening. 'Well, you meant to, anyhow. What's the use of +cracking-on for nothing? Would you slip it now if you got the chance?' + +'On'y try me!' said Ortheris, jumping to his feet as if he had been +stung. + +Mulvaney jumped too. 'Fwhat are you going to do?' said he. + +'Help Ortheris down to Bombay or Karachi, whichever he likes. You can +report that he separated from you before tiffin, and left his gun on +the bank here!' + +'I'm to report that--am I?' said Mulvaney slowly. 'Very well. If +Orth'ris manes to desert now, and will desert now, an' you, Sorr, who +have been a frind to me an' to him, will help him to ut, I, Terence +Mulvaney, on my oath which I've never bruk yet, will report as you +say. But----' here he stepped up to Ortheris, and shook the stock of +the fowling-piece in his face--'your fistes help you, Stanley +Orth'ris, if ever I come across you agin!' + +'I don't care!' said Ortheris. 'I'm sick o' this dorg's life. Give me +a chanst. Don't play with me. Le' me go!' + +'Strip,' said I, 'and change with me, and then I'll tell you what to +do.' + +I hoped that the absurdity of this would check Ortheris; but he had +kicked off his ammunition-boots and got rid of his tunic almost before +I had loosed my shirt-collar. Mulvaney gripped me by the arm:-- + +'The fit's on him: the fit's workin' on him still! By my Honour and +Sowl, we shall be accessiry to a desartion yet. Only twenty-eight +days, as you say, Sorr, or fifty-six, but think o' the shame--the +black shame to him an' me!' I had never seen Mulvaney so excited. + +But Ortheris was quite calm, and, as soon as he had exchanged clothes +with me, and I stood up a Private of the Line, he said shortly, 'Now! +Come on. What nex'? D'ye mean fair. What must I do to get out o' this +'ere a-Hell?' + +I told him that, if he would wait for two or three hours near the +river, I would ride into the Station and come back with one hundred +rupees. He would, with that money in his pocket, walk to the nearest +side-station on the line, about five miles away, and would there take +a first-class ticket for Karachi. Knowing that he had no money on him +when he went out shooting, his regiment would not immediately wire to +the seaports, but would hunt for him in the native villages near the +river. Further, no one would think of seeking a deserter in a +first-class carriage. At Karachi, he was to buy white clothes and +ship, if he could, on a cargo-steamer. + +Here he broke in. If I helped him to Karachi, he would arrange all the +rest. Then I ordered him to wait where he was until it was dark enough +for me to ride into the station without my dress being noticed. Now +God in His wisdom has made the heart of the British Soldier, who is +very often an unlicked ruffian, as soft as the heart of a little +child, in order that he may believe in and follow his officers into +tight and nasty places. He does not so readily come to believe in a +'civilian,' but, when he does, he believes implicitly and like a dog. +I had had the honour of the friendship of Private Ortheris, at +intervals, for more than three years, and we had dealt with each other +as man by man. Consequently, he considered that all my words were +true, and not spoken lightly. + +Mulvaney and I left him in the high grass near the river-bank, and +went away, still keeping to the high grass, towards my horse. The +shirt scratched me horribly. + + [Illustration: We set off at the double and found him plunging + about wildly through the grass.--P. 201.] + +We waited nearly two hours for the dusk to fall and allow me to ride +off. We spoke of Ortheris in whispers, and strained our ears to catch +any sound from the spot where we had left him. But we heard nothing +except the wind in the plume-grass. + +'I've bruk his head,' said Mulvaney earnestly, 'time an' agin. I've +nearly kilt him wid the belt, an' _yet_ I can't knock thim fits out av +his soft head. No! An' he's not soft, for he's reasonable an' likely +by natur'. Fwhat is ut? Is ut his breedin' which is nothin', or his +edukashin which he niver got? You that think ye know things, answer me +that.' + +But I found no answer. I was wondering how long Ortheris, in the bank +of the river, would hold out, and whether I should be forced to help +him to desert, as I had given my word. + +Just as the dusk shut down and, with a very heavy heart, I was +beginning to saddle up my horse, we heard wild shouts from the river. + +The devils had departed from Private Stanley Ortheris, No. 22639, B +company. The loneliness, the dusk, and the waiting had driven them out +as I had hoped. We set off at the double and found him plunging about +wildly through the grass, with his coat off--my coat off, I mean. He +was calling for us like a madman. + +When we reached him he was dripping with perspiration, and trembling +like a startled horse. We had great difficulty in soothing him. He +complained that he was in civilian kit, and wanted to tear my clothes +off his body. I ordered him to strip, and we made a second exchange as +quickly as possible. + +The rasp of his own 'grayback' shirt and the squeak of his boots +seemed to bring him to himself. He put his hands before his eyes and +said:-- + +'Wot was it? I ain't mad, I ain't sunstrook, an' I've bin an' gone an' +said, an' bin an' gone an' done---- _Wot_ 'ave I bin an' done!' + +'Fwhat have you done?' said Mulvaney. 'You've dishgraced +yourself--though that's no matter. You've dishgraced B comp'ny, an' +worst av all, you've dishgraced _Me_! Me that taught you how for to +walk abroad like a man--whin you was a dhirty little, fish-backed +little, whimperin' little recruity. As you are now, Stanley Orth'ris!' + +Ortheris said nothing for a while. Then he unslung his belt, heavy +with the badges of half-a-dozen regiments that his own had lain with, +and handed it over to Mulvaney. + +'I'm too little for to mill you, Mulvaney,' said he, 'an' you've +strook me before; but you can take an' cut me in two with this 'ere if +you like.' + +Mulvaney turned to me. + +'Lave me to talk to him, Sorr,' said Mulvaney. + +I left, and on my way home thought a good deal over Ortheris in +particular, and my friend Private Thomas Atkins, whom I love, in +general. + +But I could not come to any conclusion of any kind whatever. + + + +THE END + + + + + NEW UNIFORM EDITION OF THE STORIES AND POEMS OF RUDYARD + KIPLING. Seven volumes, 12mo, cloth. + + PLAIN TALES FROM THE HILLS. + + New Edition. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + "Mr. Kipling knows and appreciates the English in India, and + is a born storyteller and a man of humour into the bargain.... + It would be hard to find better reading."--_The Saturday + Review, London._ + + + THE LIGHT THAT FAILED. + + New Edition. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + "'The Light that Failed' is an organic whole--a book with a + backbone--and stands out boldly among the nerveless, flaccid, + invertebrate things that enjoy an expensive but ephemeral + existence in the circulating libraries."--_The Athenęum._ + + + LIFE'S HANDICAP. + + STORIES OF MINE OWN PEOPLE. + + New Edition. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + "No volume of his yet published gives a better illustration of + his genius, and of the weird charm which has given his stories + such deserved popularity."--_Boston Daily Traveler._ + + + THE NAULAHKA. + + A Story of East and West. + + By RUDYARD KIPLING and WOLCOTT BALESTIER. + + 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + "What is the most surprising, and at the same time most + admirable, in this book, is the manner in which Mr. Kipling + seems to grasp the character of the native women; we know of + nothing in the English language of its kind to compare with + Chapter XX. in its delicacy and genuine sympathy." + + + UNDER THE DEODARS, THE PHANTOM 'RICKSHAW, AND WEE WILLIE + WINKIE. + + With additional matter, now published for the first time. + 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + + SOLDIERS THREE, THE STORY OF THE GADSBYS, and BLACK AND WHITE. + + Also together with additional matter. + + 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + + BALLADS AND BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS. + + 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + "Mr. Kipling differs from other ballad-writers of the day in + that he has that rare possession, imagination, and he has the + temerity to speak out what is in him with no conventional + reservations or deference to the hypocrisies of public + opinion."--_Boston Beacon._ + + +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, +66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. + + + + + WORKS BY ROLF BOLDREWOOD. + + ROBBERY UNDER ARMS. + + New Edition. 12mo. Cloth. $1.25. + + "We have nothing but praise for this story. Of adventure of + the most stirring kind there is, as we have said, abundance. + But there is more than this. The characters are drawn with + great skill. This is a book of no common literary + force."--_Spectator._ + + + THE MINER'S RIGHT. + + A TALE OF THE AUSTRALIAN GOLD FIELDS. + + 12mo. Cloth. $1.25. + + "Full of good passages, passages abounding in vivacity, in the + color and play of lif.... The pith of the book lies in its + singularly fresh and vivid pictures of the humors of the + gold-fields; tragic humors enough they are too."--_World._ + + + THE SQUATTER'S DREAM. + + 12mo. Cloth. $1.25. + + "A story of Australian life, told with directness and force. + The author's mastery of his subjects adds much to the + impressiveness of the story, which no doubt might be told as + literally true of hundreds of restless and ambitious young + Australians."--_N.Y. Tribune._ + + + A COLONIAL REFORMER. + + 12mo. Cloth. $1.25. + + "Rolf Boldrewood has written much and well on the Australian + colonies, but chiefly in the form of novels, and good novels + they are too. The Australian scenes, rural and urban, are + vividly described by Mr. Boldrewood, and there are among the + characters examples of the various adventurers and rogues that + infest new countries, which recall our early California days. + Whoever wants to know how they live in Australia will have the + want supplied."--_Philadelphia Evening Bulletin._ + + "One of the most interesting books about Australia we have + ever read."--_Glasgow Herald._ + + + NEVERMORE. + + 12mo. Cloth. $1.25. + + "The plot of this story is skilfully drawn, the various + characters are delineated with unusual power. 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*/ + position: absolute; right: 2%; + font-size: 75%; + text-align: right; + text-indent: 0em; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + color: silver; background-color: inherit; + font-variant: normal;} /* page numbers in poems */ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Soldier Stories, by Rudyard Kipling + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Soldier Stories + +Author: Rudyard Kipling + +Release Date: April 8, 2009 [EBook #28537] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOLDIER STORIES *** + + + + +Produced by Stephen Hope, Joseph Cooper, Jeannie Howse and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + +<div class="tr"> +<p class="cen" style="font-weight: bold;">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<br /> +<p class="noin">Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has been preserved.</p> +<p class="noin">This e-book has dialect and unusual spelling.</p> +<p class="noin">Click on the images to see a larger version.</p> +</div> + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/cover.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/cover.jpg" width="45%" alt="Book Cover" /></a><br /> +</div> + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>SOLDIER STORIES</h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + +<h1>SOLDIER STORIES</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h4>BY</h4> + +<h3>RUDYARD KIPLING</h3> + +<h4>AUTHOR OF "PLAIN TALES FROM THE HILLS," "UNDER THE<br /> +DEODARS," "THE PHANTOM RICKSHAW," "WEE<br /> +WILLIE WINKIE," ETC., ETC.</h4> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h4><i>WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS</i></h4> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h5>NEW YORK<br /> +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /> +LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.<br /> +1896</h5> + +<h5><i>All rights reserved</i></h5> + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h5><span class="sc">Copyright, 1896,</span><br /> +<span class="sc">By</span> THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Norwood Press<br /> +J.S. Cushing & Co.—Berwick & Smith<br /> +Norwood Mass. U.S.A.</h5> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="toc" id="toc"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<br /> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="70%" summary="Table of Contents"> + <tr> + <td class="tdl" width="80%"> </td> + <td class="tdr" width="20%" style="font-size: 80%;">PAGE</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#WITH_THE_MAIN_GUARD">With the Main Guard</a></td> + <td class="tdr">1</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#FORE_AND_AFT">The Drums of the Fore and Aft</a></td> + <td class="tdr">25</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#THE_MAN_WHO_WAS">The Man who was</a></td> + <td class="tdr">78</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#DINAH_SHADD">The Courting of Dinah Shadd</a></td> + <td class="tdr">101</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#KRISHNA_MULVANEY">The Incarnation of Krishna Mulvaney</a></td> + <td class="tdr">139</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#TAKING_OF_LUNGTUNGPEN">The Taking of Lungtungpen</a></td> + <td class="tdr">182</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#PRIVATE_ORTHERIS">The Madness of Private Ortheris</a></td> + <td class="tdr">191</td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span><br /> +<a name="toi" id="toi"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h3> +<br /> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="70%" summary="Illustrations"> + <tr> + <td class="tdl" width="80%"> </td> + <td class="tdr" width="20%" style="font-size: 80%;">TO FACE PAGE</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">'Put yer 'ead between your legs. It'll go orf in a minute'</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep002">2</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">'He ran forward wid the Haymakers' Lift on his bay'nit'</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep012">12</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">He picked her up in the growing light, and set her on his shoulder</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep023">23</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">'Hey! What? Are you going to argue with <i>me</i>?' said the Colonel</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep035">35</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">Cris slid an arm round his neck</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep047">47</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">The men strolled across the tracks to inspect the Afghan prisoners</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep050">50</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">The tune settled into full swing, and the boys kept shoulder to shoulder</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep069">69</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">'<i>Rung ho</i>, Hira Singh!'</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep085">85</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">He found the spring</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep091">91</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">It is not good that a gentleman who can answer to the Queen's toast + should lie at the feet of a subaltern of Cossacks</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep094">94</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">'Thin whin the kettle was to be filled, Dinah came in—my Dinah'</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep117">117</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span>'"My collar-bone's bruk," sez he'</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep121">121</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">'"The half av that I'll take," sez she'</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep132">132</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">'"Out of this," sez he. "I'm in charge av this section av construction."—"I'm + in charge av mesilf," sez I, "an' it's like I will stay a while"'</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep149">149</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">'Nine roun's they were even matched, an' at the tenth——'</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep157">157</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">There pranced a Portent in the face of the moon</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep166">166</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">'I was Krishna tootlin' on the flute'</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep176">176</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">'"Shtrip, bhoys," sez I. "Shtrip to the buff, an' shwim in where glory waits!"'</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep185">185</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">'There was a <i>melly</i> av a sumpshus kind for a whoile'</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep187">187</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">Ortheris heaved a big sigh</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep192">192</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc">We set off at the double and found him plunging about wildly through the grass</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#imagep201">201</a></td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="WITH_THE_MAIN_GUARD" id="WITH_THE_MAIN_GUARD"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span><br /> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep001.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep001.jpg" width="65%" alt="With the Main Guard" /></a><br /> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>WITH THE MAIN GUARD<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Der jungere Uhlanen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sit round mit open mouth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Breitmann tell dem stdories<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fightin' in the South;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Und gif dem moral lessons,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How before der battle pops,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take a little prayer to Himmel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Und a goot long drink of Schnapps.<br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Hans Breitmann's Ballads.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<br /> + +<p>'Mary, Mother av Mercy, fwhat the divil possist us to take an' kape +this melancolious counthry? Answer me that, Sorr.'</p> + +<p>It was Mulvaney who was speaking. The time was one o'clock of a +stifling June night, and the place was the main gate of Fort Amara, +most desolate and least desirable of all fortresses in India. What I +was doing there at that hour is a question which only concerns M'Grath +the Sergeant of the Guard, and the men on the gate.</p> + +<p>'Slape,' said Mulvaney, 'is a shuparfluous necessity. This gyard'll +shtay lively till relieved.' He <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span>himself was stripped to the waist; +Learoyd on the next bedstead was dripping from the skinful of water +which Ortheris, clad only in white trousers, had just sluiced over his +shoulders; and a fourth private was muttering uneasily as he dozed +open-mouthed in the glare of the great guard-lantern. The heat under +the bricked archway was terrifying.</p> + +<p>'The worrst night that iver I remimber. Eyah! Is all Hell loose this +tide?' said Mulvaney. A puff of burning wind lashed through the +wicket-gate like a wave of the sea, and Ortheris swore.</p> + +<p>'Are ye more heasy, Jock?' he said to Learoyd. 'Put yer 'ead between +your legs. It'll go orf in a minute.'</p> + +<p>'Ah don't care. Ah would not care, but ma heart is plaayin' +tivvy-tivvy on ma ribs. Let me die! Oh, leave me die!' groaned the +huge Yorkshireman, who was feeling the heat acutely, being of fleshly +build.</p> + +<p>The sleeper under the lantern roused for a moment and raised himself +on his elbow.—'Die and be damned then!' he said. '<i>I</i>'m damned and I +can't die!'</p> + +<p>'Who's that?' I whispered, for the voice was new to me.</p> + +<p>'Gentleman born,' said Mulvaney; 'Corp'ril wan year, Sargint nex'. +Red-hot on his C'mission, but <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>dhrinks like a fish. He'll be gone +before the cowld weather's here. So!'</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep002" id="imagep002"></a> +<a href="images/imagep002.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep002.jpg" width="50%" alt=""Put yer 'ead between your legs"'" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">'Put yer 'ead between your legs. It'll go orf in a +minute.'—<span class="fakesc">P. 2.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>He slipped his boot, and with the naked toe just touched the trigger +of his Martini. Ortheris misunderstood the movement, and the next +instant the Irishman's rifle was dashed aside, while Ortheris stood +before him, his eyes blazing with reproof.</p> + +<p>'You!' said Ortheris. 'My Gawd, <i>you</i>! If it was you, wot would <i>we</i> +do?'</p> + +<p>'Kape quiet, little man,' said Mulvaney, putting him aside, but very +gently; ''tis not me, nor will ut be me whoile Dinah Shadd's here. I +was but showin' something.'</p> + +<p>Learoyd, bowed on his bedstead, groaned, and the gentleman-ranker +sighed in his sleep. Ortheris took Mulvaney's tendered pouch, and we +three smoked gravely for a space while the dust-devils danced on the +glacis and scoured the red-hot plain.</p> + +<p>'Pop?' said Ortheris, wiping his forehead.</p> + +<p>'Don't tantalise wid talkin' av dhrink, or I'll shtuff you into your +own breech-block an'—fire you off!' grunted Mulvaney.</p> + +<p>Ortheris chuckled, and from a niche in the veranda produced six +bottles of gingerade.</p> + +<p>'Where did ye get ut, ye Machiavel?' said Mulvaney. ''Tis no bazar +pop.'</p> + +<p>''Ow do <i>Hi</i> know wot the Orf'cers drink?' answered Ortheris. 'Arst +the mess-man.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>'Ye'll have a Disthrict Coort-Martial settin' on ye yet, me son,' said +Mulvaney, 'but'—he opened a bottle—'I will not report ye this time. +Fwhat's in the mess-kid is mint for the belly, as they say, 'specially +whin that mate is dhrink. Here's luck! A bloody war or a—no, we've +got the sickly season. War, thin!'—he waved the innocent 'pop' to the +four quarters of heaven. 'Bloody war! North, East, South, an' West! +Jock, ye quackin' hayrick, come an' dhrink.'</p> + +<p>But Learoyd, half mad with the fear of death presaged in the swelling +veins of his neck, was begging his Maker to strike him dead, and +fighting for more air between his prayers. A second time Ortheris +drenched the quivering body with water, and the giant revived.</p> + +<p>'An' Ah divn't see thot a mon is i' fettle for gooin' on to live; an' +Ah divn't see thot there is owt for t' livin' for. Hear now, lads! +Ah'm tired—tired. There's nobbut watter i' ma bones. Let me die!'</p> + +<p>The hollow of the arch gave back Learoyd's broken whisper in a bass +boom. Mulvaney looked at me hopelessly, but I remembered how the +madness of despair had once fallen upon Ortheris, that weary, weary +afternoon in the banks of the Khemi River, and how it had been +exorcised by the skilful magician Mulvaney.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>'Talk, Terence!' I said, 'or we shall have Learoyd slinging loose, and +he'll be worse than Ortheris was. Talk! He'll answer to your voice.'</p> + +<p>Almost before Ortheris had deftly thrown all the rifles of the guard +on Mulvaney's bedstead, the Irishman's voice was uplifted as that of +one in the middle of a story, and, turning to me, he said:—</p> + +<p>'In barricks or out of it, as <i>you</i> say, Sorr, an Oirish rig'mint is +the divil an' more. 'Tis only fit for a young man wid eddicated +fisteses. Oh the crame av disruption is an Oirish rig'mint, an' +rippin', tearin', ragin' scattherers in the field av war! My first +rig'mint was Oirish—Faynians an' rebils to the heart av their marrow +was they, an' <i>so</i> they fought for the Widdy betther than most, bein' +contrairy—Oirish. They was the Black Tyrone. You've heard av thim, +Sorr?'</p> + +<p>Heard of them! I knew the Black Tyrone for the choicest collection of +unmitigated blackguards, dog-stealers, robbers of hen-roosts, +assaulters of innocent citizens, and recklessly daring heroes in the +Army List. Half Europe and half Asia has had cause to know the Black +Tyrone—good luck be with their tattered Colours as Glory has ever +been!</p> + +<p>'They <i>was</i> hot pickils an' ginger! I cut a man's head tu deep wid my +belt in the days av my youth, an', afther some circumstances which I +will <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>oblitherate, I came to the Ould Rig'mint, bearin' the character +av a man wid hands an' feet. But, as I was goin' to tell you, I fell +acrost the Black Tyrone agin wan day whin we wanted thim powerful bad. +Orth'ris, me son, fwhat was the name av that place where they sint wan +comp'ny av us an' wan av the Tyrone roun' a hill an' down again, all +for to tache the Paythans something they'd niver learned before? +Afther Ghuzni 'twas.'</p> + +<p>'Don't know what the bloomin' Paythans called it. We called it +Silver's Theayter. You know that, sure!'</p> + +<p>'Silver's Theatre—so 'twas. A gut betune two hills, as black as a +bucket, an' as thin as a girl's waist. There was over-many Paythans +for our convaynience in the gut, an' begad they called thimselves a +Reserve—bein' impident by natur'! Our Scotchies an' lashins av Gurkys +was poundin' into some Paythan rig'ments, I think 'twas. Scotchies and +Gurkys are twins bekaze they're so onlike, an' they get dhrunk +together when God plazes. As I was sayin', they sint wan comp'ny av +the Ould an' wan av the Tyrone to double up the hill an' clane out the +Paythan Reserve. Orf'cers was scarce in thim days, fwhat wid dysintry +an' not takin' care av thimselves, an' we was sint out wid only wan +orf'cer for the comp'ny; but he was a Man that had his feet beneath +him, an' all his teeth in their sockuts.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>'Who was he?' I asked.</p> + +<p>'Captain O'Neil—Old Crook—Cruikna-bulleen—him that I tould ye that +tale av whin he was in Burma.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Hah! He was a Man. The Tyrone tuk a +little orf'cer bhoy, but divil a bit was he in command, as I'll +dimonstrate presintly. We an' they came over the brow av the hill, wan +on each side av the gut, an' there was that ondacint Reserve waitin' +down below like rats in a pit.</p> + +<p>'"Howld on, men," sez Crook, who tuk a mother's care av us always. +"Rowl some rocks on thim by way av visitin'-kyards." We hadn't rowled +more than twinty bowlders, an' the Paythans was beginnin' to swear +tremenjus, whin the little orf'cer bhoy av the Tyrone shqueaks out +acrost the valley:—"Fwhat the devil an' all are you doin', shpoilin' +the fun for my men? Do ye not see they'll stand?"</p> + +<p>'"Faith, that's a rare pluckt wan!" sez Crook. "Niver mind the rocks, +men. Come along down an' tak tay wid thim!"</p> + +<p>'"There's damned little sugar in ut!" sez my rear-rank man; but Crook +heard.</p> + +<p>'"Have ye not all got spoons?" he sez, laughin', an' down we wint as +fast as we cud. Learoyd bein' sick at the Base, he, av coorse, was not +there.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>'Thot's a lie!' said Learoyd, dragging his bedstead nearer. 'Ah gotten +<i>thot</i> theer, an' you know it, Mulvaney.' He threw up his arms, and +from the right arm-pit ran, diagonally through the fell of his chest, +a thin white line terminating near the fourth left rib.</p> + +<p>'My mind's goin',' said Mulvaney, the unabashed. 'Ye were there. Fwhat +was I thinkin' of? 'Twas another man, av coorse. Well, you'll remimber +thin, Jock, how we an' the Tyrone met wid a bang at the bottom an' got +jammed past all movin' among the Paythans?'</p> + +<p>'Ow! It <i>was</i> a tight 'ole. I was squeezed till I thought I'd bloomin' +well bust,' said Ortheris, rubbing his stomach meditatively.</p> + +<p>''Twas no place for a little man, but <i>wan</i> little man'—Mulvaney put +his hand on Ortheris's shoulder—'saved the life av me. There we +shtuck, for divil a bit did the Paythans flinch, an' divil a bit dare +we; our business bein' to clear 'em out. An' the most exthryordinar' +thing av all was that we an' they just rushed into each other's +arrums, an' there was no firing for a long time. Nothin' but knife an' +bay'nit when we cud get our hands free: an' that was not often. We was +breast-on to thim, an' the Tyrone was yelpin' behind av us in a way I +didn't see the lean av at first. But I knew later, an' so did the +Paythans.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>'"Knee to knee!" sings out Crook, wid a laugh whin the rush av our +comin' into the gut shtopped, an' he was huggin' a hairy great +Paythan, neither bein' able to do anything to the other, tho' both was +wishful.</p> + +<p>'"Breast to breast!" he sez, as the Tyrone was pushin' us forward +closer an' closer.</p> + +<p>'"An' hand over back!" sez a Sargint that was behin'. I saw a sword +lick out past Crook's ear, an' the Paythan was tuck in the apple av +his throat like a pig at Dromeen Fair.</p> + +<p>'"Thank ye, Brother Inner Guard," sez Crook, cool as a cucumber widout +salt. "I wanted that room." An' he wint forward by the thickness av a +man's body, havin' turned the Paythan undher him. The man bit the heel +off Crook's boot in his death-bite.</p> + +<p>'"Push, men!" sez Crook. "Push, ye paper-backed beggars!" he sez. "Am +I to pull ye through?" So we pushed, an' we kicked, an' we swung, an' +we swore, an' the grass bein' slippery our heels wouldn't bite, an' +God help the front-rank man that wint down that day!'</p> + +<p>''Ave you ever bin in the Pit hentrance o' the Vic. on a thick night?' +interrupted Ortheris. 'It was worse nor that, for they was goin' one +way, an' we wouldn't 'ave it. Leastaways, I 'adn't much to say.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>'Faith, me son, ye said ut, thin. I kep' the little man betune my +knees as long as I cud, but he was pokin' roun' wid his bay'nit, +blindin' and stiffin' feroshus. The devil of a man is Orth'ris in a +ruction—aren't ye?' said Mulvaney.</p> + +<p>'Don't make game!' said the Cockney. 'I knowed I wasn't no good then, +but I guv 'em compot from the lef' flank when we opened out. No!' he +said, bringing down his hand with a thump on the bedstead, 'a bay'nit +ain't no good to a little man—might as well 'ave a bloomin' +fishin'-rod! I 'ate a clawin', maulin' mess, but gimme a breech that's +wore out a bit, an' hamminition one year in store, to let the powder +kiss the bullet, an' put me somewheres where I ain't trod on by 'ulkin +swine like you, an' s'elp me Gawd, I could bowl you over five times +outer seven at height 'undred. Would yer try, you lumberin' +Hirishman?'</p> + +<p>'No, ye wasp. I've seen ye do ut. I say there's nothin' better than +the bay'nit, wid a long reach, a double twist av ye can, an' a slow +recover.'</p> + +<p>'Dom the bay'nit,' said Learoyd, who had been listening intently. +'Look a-here!' He picked up a rifle an inch below the foresight with +an underhanded action, and used it exactly as a man would use a +dagger.</p> + +<p>'Sitha,' said he softly, 'thot's better than owt, for a mon can bash +t' faace wi' thot, an', if he divn't, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>he can breeak t' forearm o' t' +gaard. 'Tis not i' t' books, though. Gie me t' butt.'</p> + +<p>'Each does ut his own way, like makin' love,' said Mulvaney quietly; +'the butt or the bay'nit or the bullet accordin' to the natur' av the +man. Well, as I was sayin', we shtuck there breathin' in each other's +faces an' swearin' powerful; Orth'ris cursin' the mother that bore him +bekaze he was not three inches taller.</p> + +<p>'Prisintly he sez:—"Duck, ye lump, an' I can get at a man over your +shouldher!"</p> + +<p>'"You'll blow me head off," I sez, throwin' my arm clear; "go through +under my arm-pit, ye blood-thirsty little scutt," sez I, "but don't +shtick me or I'll wring your ears round."</p> + +<p>'Fwhat was ut ye gave the Paythan man forninst me, him that cut at me +whin I cudn't move hand or foot? Hot or cowld was ut?'</p> + +<p>'Cold,' said Ortheris, 'up an' under the rib-jint. 'E come down flat. +Best for you 'e did.'</p> + +<p>'Thrue, my son! This jam thing that I'm talkin' about lasted for five +minutes good, an' thin we got our arms clear an' wint in. I +misremimber exactly fwhat I did, but I didn't want Dinah to be a widdy +at the Depot. Thin, after some promishkuous hackin' we shtuck again, +an' the Tyrone behin' was callin' us dogs an' cowards an' all manner +av names; we barrin' their way.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>'"Fwhat ails the Tyrone?" thinks I; "they've the makin's av a most +convanient fight here."</p> + +<p>'A man behind me sez beseechful an' in a whisper:—"Let me get at +thim! For the love av Mary give me room beside ye, ye tall man!"</p> + +<p>'"An' who are you that's so anxious to be kilt?" sez I, widout turnin' +my head, for the long knives was dancin' in front like the sun on +Donegal Bay when ut's rough.</p> + +<p>'"We've seen our dead," he sez, squeezin' into me; "our dead that was +men two days gone! An' me that was his cousin by blood could not bring +Tim Coulan off? Let me get on," he sez, "let me get to thim or I'll +run ye through the back!"</p> + +<p>'"My troth," thinks I, "if the Tyrone have seen their dead, God help +the Paythans this day!" An' thin I knew why the Oirish was ragin' +behind us as they was.</p> + +<p>'I gave room to the man, an' he ran forward wid the Haymakers' Lift on +his bay'nit an' swung a Paythan clear off his feet by the belly-band +av the brute, an' the iron bruk at the lockin'-ring.</p> + +<p>'"Tim Coulan'll slape easy to-night," sez he wid a grin; an' the next +minut his head was in two halves and he wint down grinnin' by +sections.</p> + +<p>'The Tyrone was pushin' an' pushin' in, an' our men were swearin' at +thim, an' Crook was workin' away in front av us all, his sword-arm +swingin' like <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>a pump-handle; an' his revolver spittin' like a cat. +But the strange thing av ut was the quiet that lay upon. 'Twas like a +fight in a drame—except for thim that was dead.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep012" id="imagep012"></a> +<a href="images/imagep012.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep012.jpg" width="50%" alt="He ran forward" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">'He ran forward wid the Haymakers' Lift on his +bay'nit.'—<span class="fakesc">P. 12.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'Whin I gave room to the Oirishman I was expinded an' forlorn in my +inside. 'Tis a way I have, savin' your presince, Sorr, in action. "Let +me out, bhoys," sez I, backin' in among thim. "I'm goin' to be +onwell!" Faith they gave me room at the wurrd, though they would not +ha' given room for all Hell wid the chill off. When I got clear, I +was, savin' your presince, Sorr, outragis sick bekaze I had dhrunk +heavy that day.</p> + +<p>'Well an' far out av harm was a Sargint av the Tyrone sittin' on the +little orf'cer bhoy who had stopped Crook from rowlin' the rocks. Oh, +he was a beautiful bhoy, an' the long black curses was sliding out av +his innocint mouth like morning-jew from a rose!</p> + +<p>'"Fwhat have you got there?" sez I to the Sargint.</p> + +<p>'"Wan av Her Majesty's bantams wid his spurs up," sez he. "He's goin' +to Coort-Martial me."</p> + +<p>'"Let me go!" sez the little orf'cer bhoy. "Let me go and command my +men!" manin' thereby the Black Tyrone which was beyond any +command—ay, even av they had made the Divil a Field-Orf'cer.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>'"His father howlds my mother's cow-feed in Clonmel," sez the man that +was sittin' on him. "Will I go back to <i>his</i> mother an' tell her that +I've let him throw himself away? Lie still, ye little pinch av +dynamite, an' Coort-Martial me aftherwards."</p> + +<p>'"Good," sez I; "'tis the likes av him makes the likes av the +Commandher-in-Chief, but we must presarve thim. Fwhat d'you want to +do, Sorr?" sez I, very politeful.</p> + +<p>'"Kill the beggars—kill the beggars!" he shqueaks, his big blue eyes +brimmin' wid tears.</p> + +<p>'"An' how'll ye do that?" sez I. "You've shquibbed off your revolver +like a child wid a cracker; you can make no play wid that fine large +sword av yours; an' your hand's shakin' like an asp on a leaf. Lie +still and grow," sez I.</p> + +<p>'"Get back to your comp'ny," sez he; "you're insolint!"</p> + +<p>'"All in good time," sez I, "but I'll have a dhrink first."</p> + +<p>'Just thin Crook comes up, blue an' white all over where he wasn't +red.</p> + +<p>'"Wather!" sez he; "I'm dead wid drouth! Oh, but it's a gran' day!"</p> + +<p>'He dhrank half a skinful, and the rest he tilts into his chest, an' +it fair hissed on the hairy hide av him. He sees the little orf'cer +bhoy undher the Sargint.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>'"Fwhat's yonder?" sez he.</p> + +<p>'"Mutiny, Sorr," sez the Sargint, an' the orf'cer bhoy begins pleadin' +pitiful to Crook to be let go, but divil a bit wud Crook budge.</p> + +<p>'"Kape him there," he sez, "'tis no child's work this day. By the same +token," sez he, "I'll confishcate that iligant nickel-plated +scent-sprinkler av yours, for my own has been vomitin' dishgraceful!"</p> + +<p>'The fork av his hand was black wid the back-spit av the machine. So +he tuk the orf'cer bhoy's revolver. Ye may look, Sorr, but, by my +faith, <i>there's a dale more done in the field than iver gets into +Field Ordhers!</i></p> + +<p>'"Come on, Mulvaney," sez Crook; "is this a Coort-Martial?" The two av +us wint back together into the mess an' the Paythans were still +standin' up. They was not <i>too</i> impart'nint though, for the Tyrone was +callin' wan to another to remimber Tim Coulan.</p> + +<p>'Crook stopped outside av the strife an' looked anxious, his eyes +rowlin' roun'.</p> + +<p>'"Fwhat is ut, Sorr?" sez I; "can I get ye anything?"</p> + +<p>'"Where's a bugler?" sez he.</p> + +<p>'I wint into the crowd—our men was dhrawin' breath behin' the Tyrone +who was fightin' like sowls in tormint—an' prisintly I came acrost +little <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>Frehan, our bugler bhoy, pokin' roun' among the best wid a +rifle an' bay'nit.</p> + +<p>'"Is amusin' yoursilf fwhat you're paid for, ye limb?" sez I, catchin' +him by the scruff. "Come out av that an' attind to your duty," I sez; +but the bhoy was not pleased.</p> + +<p>'"I've got wan," sez he, grinnin', "big as you, Mulvaney, an' fair +half as ugly. Let me go get another."</p> + +<p>'I was dishpleased at the personability av that remark, so I tucks him +under my arm an' carries him to Crook who was watchin' how the fight +wint. Crook cuffs him till the bhoy cries, an' thin sez nothin' for a +whoile.</p> + +<p>'The Paythans began to flicker onaisy, an' our men roared. "Opin +ordher! Double!" sez Crook. "Blow, child, blow for the honour av the +British Arrmy!"</p> + +<p>'That bhoy blew like a typhoon, an' the Tyrone an' we opined out as +the Paythans broke, an' I saw that fwhat had gone before wud be +kissin' an' huggin' to fwhat was to come. We'd dhruv them into a broad +part av the gut whin they gave, an' thin we opined out an' fair danced +down the valley, dhrivin' thim before us. Oh, 'twas lovely, an' +stiddy, too! There was the Sargints on the flanks av what was left av +us, kapin' touch, an' the fire was runnin' from flank to flank, an' +the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>Paythans was dhroppin'. We opined out wid the widenin' av the +valley, an' whin the valley narrowed we closed again like the shticks +on a lady's fan, an' at the far ind av the gut where they thried to +stand, we fair blew them off their feet, for we had expinded very +little ammunition by reason av the knife work.'</p> + +<p>'Hi used thirty rounds goin' down that valley,' said Ortheris, 'an' it +was gentleman's work. Might 'a' done it in a white 'andkerchief an' +pink silk stockin's, that part. Hi was on in that piece.'</p> + +<p>'You could ha' heard the Tyrone yellin' a mile away,' said Mulvaney, +'an' 'twas all their Sargints cud do to get thim off. They was +mad—mad—mad! Crook sits down in the quiet that fell when we had gone +down the valley, an' covers his face wid his hands. Prisintly we all +came back again accordin' to our natures and disposishins, for they, +mark you, show through the hide av a man in that hour.</p> + +<p>'"Bhoys! bhoys!" sez Crook to himself. "I misdoubt we could ha' +engaged at long range an' saved betther men than me." He looked at our +dead an' said no more.</p> + +<p>'"Captain dear," sez a man av the Tyrone, comin' up wid his mouth +bigger than iver his mother kissed ut, spittin' blood like a whale; +"Captain dear," sez he, "if wan or two in the shtalls have been +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>discommoded, the gallery have enjoyed the performinces av a Roshus."</p> + +<p>'Thin I knew that man for the Dublin dock-rat he was—wan av the bhoys +that made the lessee av Silver's Theatre gray before his time wid +tearin' out the bowils av the benches an' t'rowin' thim into the pit. +So I passed the wurrud that I knew when I was in the Tyrone an' we lay +in Dublin. "I don't know who 'twas," I whispers, "an' I don't care, +but anyways I'll knock the face av you, Tim Kelly."</p> + +<p>'"Eyah!" sez the man, "was you there too? We'll call ut Silver's +Theatre." Half the Tyrone, knowin' the ould place, tuk ut up: so we +called ut Silver's Theatre.</p> + +<p>'The little orf'cer bhoy av the Tyrone was thremblin' an' cryin'. He +had no heart for the Coort-Martials that he talked so big upon. "Ye'll +do well later," sez Crook very quiet, "for not bein' allowed to kill +yourself for amusemint."</p> + +<p>'"I'm a dishgraced man!" sez the little orf'cer bhoy.</p> + +<p>'"Put me undher arrest, Sorr, if you will, but, by my sowl, I'd do ut +again sooner than face your mother wid you dead," sez the Sargint that +had sat on his head, standin' to attention an' salutin'. But the young +wan only cried as tho' his little heart was breakin'.</p> + +<p>'Thin another man av the Tyrone came up, wid the fog av fightin' on +him.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>'The what, Mulvaney?'</p> + +<p>'Fog av fightin'. You know, Sorr, that, like makin' love, ut takes +each man diff'rint. Now I can't help bein' powerful sick whin I'm in +action. Orth'ris, here, niver stops swearin' from ind to ind, an' the +only time that Learoyd opins his mouth to sing is whin he is messin' +wid other people's heads; for he's a dhirty fighter is Jock. +Recruities sometime cry, an' sometime they don't know fwhat they do, +an' sometime they are all for cuttin' throats an' such-like dirtiness; +but some men get heavy-dead-dhrunk on the fightin'. This man was. He +was staggerin', an' his eyes were half-shut, an' we cud hear him dhraw +breath twinty yards away. He sees the little orf'cer bhoy, an' comes +up, talkin' thick an' drowsy to himsilf. "Blood the young whelp!" he +sez; "blood the young whelp;" an' wid that he threw up his arms, shpun +roun', an' dropped at our feet, dead as a Paythan, an' there was niver +sign or scratch on him. They said 'twas his heart was rotten, but oh, +'twas a quare thing to see!</p> + +<p>'Thin we went to bury our dead, for we wud not lave thim to the +Paythans, an' in movin' among the haythen we nearly lost that little +orf'cer bhoy. He was for givin' wan divil wather and layin' him aisy +against a rock. "Be careful, Sorr," sez I; "a wounded Paythan's worse +than a live wan." My troth, before the words was out of my mouth, the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>man on the ground fires at the orf'cer bhoy lanin' over him, an' I saw +the helmit fly. I dropped the butt on the face av the man an' tuk his +pistol. The little orf'cer bhoy turned very white, for the hair av +half his head was singed away.</p> + +<p>'"I tould you so, Sorr," sez I; an', afther that, when he wanted to +help a Paythan I stud wid the muzzle contagious to the ear. They dare +not do anythin' but curse. The Tyrone was growlin' like dogs over a +bone that has been taken away too soon, for they had seen their dead +an' they wanted to kill ivry sowl on the ground. Crook tould thim that +he'd blow the hide off any man that misconducted himself; but, seeing +that ut was the first time the Tyrone had iver seen their dead, I do +not wondher they were on the sharp. 'Tis a shameful sight! Whin I +first saw ut I wud niver ha' given quarter to any man not of the +Khaibar—no, nor woman either, for the women used to come out afther +dhark—Auggrh!</p> + +<p>'Well, evenshually we buried our dead an' tuk away our wounded, an' +come over the brow av the hills to see the Scotchies an' the Gurkys +taking tay with the Paythans in bucketsfuls. We were a gang av +dissolute ruffians, for the blood had caked the dust, an' the sweat +had cut the cake, an' our bay'nits was hangin' like butchers' steels +betune ur legs, an' most av us were marked one way or another.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>'A Staff Orf'cer man, clean as a new rifle, rides up an' sez: "What +damned scarecrows are you?"</p> + +<p>'"A comp'ny av Her Majesty's Black Tyrone an' wan av the Ould +Rig'mint," sez Crook very quiet, givin' our visitors the flure as +'twas.</p> + +<p>'"Oh!" sez the Staff Orf'cer; "did you dislodge that Reserve?"</p> + +<p>'"No!" sez Crook, an' the Tyrone laughed.</p> + +<p>'"Thin fwhat the divil have ye done?"</p> + +<p>'"Disthroyed ut," sez Crook, an' he took us on, but not before Toomey +that was in the Tyrone sez aloud, his voice somewhere in his stummick: +"Fwhat in the name av misfortune does this parrit widout a tail mane +by shtoppin' the road av his betthers?"</p> + +<p>'The Staff Orf'cer wint blue, an' Toomey makes him pink by changin' to +the voice av a minowderin' woman an' sayin': "Come an' kiss me, Major +dear, for me husband's at the wars an' I'm all alone at the Depot."</p> + +<p>'The Staff Orf'cer wint away, an' I cud see Crook's shoulthers +shakin'.</p> + +<p>'His Corp'ril checks Toomey. "Lave me alone," sez Toomey, widout a +wink. "I was his bâtman before he was married an' he knows fwhat I +mane, av you don't. There's nothin' like livin' in the hoight av +society." D'you remimber that, Orth'ris!'</p> + +<p>'Hi do. Toomey, 'e died in 'orspital, next week <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>it was, 'cause I +bought 'arf his kit; an' I remember after that——'</p> + +<p>'<span class="sc">Guarrd, turn out!</span>'</p> + +<p>The Relief had come; it was four o'clock. 'I'll catch a kyart for you, +Sorr,' said Mulvaney, diving hastily into his accoutrements. 'Come up +to the top av the Fort an' we'll pershue our invistigations into +M'Grath's shtable.' The relieved guard strolled round the main bastion +on its way to the swimming-bath, and Learoyd grew almost talkative. +Ortheris looked into the Fort ditch and across the plain. 'Ho! it's +weary waitin' for Ma-ary!' he hummed; 'but I'd like to kill some more +bloomin' Paythans before my time's up. War! Bloody war! North, East, +South, and West.'</p> + +<p>'Amen,' said Learoyd slowly.</p> + +<p>'Fwhat's here?' said Mulvaney, checking at a blur of white by the foot +of the old sentry-box. He stooped and touched it. 'It's Norah—Norah +M'Taggart! Why, Nonie darlin', fwhat are ye doin' out av your mother's +bed at this time?'</p> + +<p>The two-year-old child of Sergeant M'Taggart must have wandered for a +breath of cool air to the very verge of the parapet of the Fort ditch. +Her tiny night-shift was gathered into a wisp round her neck and she +moaned in her sleep. 'See there!' said Mulvaney; 'poor lamb! Look at +the heat-rash on the innocint skin av her. 'Tis hard—crool hard +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>even for us. Fwhat must it be for these? Wake up, Nonie, your mother +will be woild about you. Begad, the child might ha' fallen into the +ditch!'</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep023" id="imagep023"></a> +<a href="images/imagep023.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep023.jpg" width="50%" alt="He picked her up in the growing light" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">He picked her up in the growing light, and set her on +his shoulder.—<span class="fakesc">P. 23.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>He picked her up in the growing light, and set her on his shoulder, +and her fair curls touched the grizzled stubble of his temples. +Ortheris and Learoyd followed snapping their fingers, while Norah +smiled at them a sleepy smile. Then carolled Mulvaney, clear as a +lark, dancing the baby on his arm:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'If any young man should marry you,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Say nothin' about the joke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That iver ye slep' in a sinthry-box,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wrapped up in a soldier's cloak.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>'Though, on my sowl, Nonie,' he said gravely, 'there was not much +cloak about you. Niver mind, you won't dhress like this ten years to +come. Kiss your friends an' run along to your mother.'</p> + +<p>Nonie, set down close to the Married Quarters, nodded with the quiet +obedience of the soldier's child, but, ere she pattered off over the +flagged path, held up her lips to be kissed by the Three Musketeers. +Ortheris wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and swore +sentimentally; Learoyd turned pink; and the two walked away together. +The Yorkshireman lifted up his voice and gave in thunder the chorus of +<i>The Sentry Box</i>, while Ortheris piped at his side.</p> + +<p>''Bin to a bloomin' sing-song, you two?' said the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>Artilleryman, who +was taking his cartridge down to the Morning Gun. 'You're over merry +for these dashed days.'</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'I bid ye take care o' the brat, said he,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For it comes of a noble race,'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="noin">Learoyd bellowed. The voices died out in the swimming-bath.</p> + +<p>'Oh, Terence!' I said, dropping into Mulvaney's speech, when we were +alone, 'it's you that have the Tongue!'</p> + +<p>He looked at me wearily; his eyes were sunk in his head, and his face +was drawn and white. 'Eyah!' said he; 'I've blandandhered thim through +the night somehow, but can thim that helps others help thimselves? +Answer me that, Sorr!'</p> + +<p>And over the bastions of Fort Amara broke the pitiless day.</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a></p> + +<p class="noin">Now first of the foemen of Boh Da Thone<br /> +Was Captain O'Neil of the Black Tyrone.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;"><i>The Ballad of Boh Da Thone.</i><br /></span></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="FORE_AND_AFT" id="FORE_AND_AFT"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span><br /> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep025.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep025.jpg" width="65%" alt="THE DRUMS OF THE FORE AND AFT" /></a> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>THE DRUMS OF THE FORE AND AFT<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> +<br /> + +<p>In the Army List they still stand as 'The Fore and Fit Princess +Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen-Auspach's Merthyr-Tydfilshire Own Royal Loyal +Light Infantry, Regimental District 329A,' but the Army through all +its barracks and canteens knows them now as the 'Fore and Aft.' They +may in time do something that shall make their new title honourable, +but at present they are bitterly ashamed, and the man who calls them +'Fore and Aft' does so at the risk of the head which is on his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>Two words breathed into the stables of a certain Cavalry Regiment will +bring the men out into the streets with belts and mops and bad +language; but a whisper of 'Fore and Aft' will bring out this regiment +with rifles.</p> + +<p>Their one excuse is that they came again and did their best to finish +the job in style. But for a time all their world knows that they were +openly beaten, whipped, dumb-cowed, shaking, and afraid. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>The men know +it; their officers know it; the Horse Guards know it, and when the +next war comes the enemy will know it also. There are two or three +regiments of the Line that have a black mark against their names which +they will then wipe out; and it will be excessively inconvenient for +the troops upon whom they do their wiping.</p> + +<p>The courage of the British soldier is officially supposed to be above +proof, and, as a general rule, it is so. The exceptions are decently +shovelled out of sight, only to be referred to in the freshest of +unguarded talk that occasionally swamps a Mess-table at midnight. Then +one hears strange and horrible stories of men not following their +officers, of orders being given by those who had no right to give +them, and of disgrace that, but for the standing luck of the British +Army, might have ended in brilliant disaster. These are unpleasant +stories to listen to, and the Messes tell them under their breath, +sitting by the big wood fires; and the young officer bows his head and +thinks to himself, please God, his men shall never behave unhandily.</p> + +<p>The British soldier is not altogether to be blamed for occasional +lapses; but this verdict he should not know. A moderately intelligent +General will waste six months in mastering the craft of the particular +war that he may be waging; a Colonel may utterly misunderstand the +capacity of his regiment for three <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>months after it has taken the +field; and even a Company Commander may err and be deceived as to the +temper and temperament of his own handful: wherefore the soldier, and +the soldier of to-day more particularly, should not be blamed for +falling back. He should be shot or hanged afterwards—to encourage the +others; but he should not be vilified in newspapers, for that is want +of tact and waste of space.</p> + +<p>He has, let us say, been in the service of the Empress for, perhaps, +four years. He will leave in another two years. He has no inherited +morals, and four years are not sufficient to drive toughness into his +fibre, or to teach him how holy a thing is his Regiment. He wants to +drink, he wants to enjoy himself—in India he wants to save money—and +he does not in the least like getting hurt. He has received just +sufficient education to make him understand half the purport of the +orders he receives, and to speculate on the nature of clean, incised, +and shattering wounds. Thus, if he is told to deploy under fire +preparatory to an attack, he knows that he runs a very great risk of +being killed while he is deploying, and suspects that he is being +thrown away to gain ten minutes' time. He may either deploy with +desperate swiftness, or he may shuffle, or bunch, or break, according +to the discipline under which he has lain for four years.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>Armed with imperfect knowledge, cursed with the rudiments of an +imagination, hampered by the intense selfishness of the lower classes, +and unsupported by any regimental associations, this young man is +suddenly introduced to an enemy who in eastern lands is always ugly, +generally tall and hairy, and frequently noisy. If he looks to the +right and the left and sees old soldiers—men of twelve years' +service, who, he knows, know what they are about—taking a charge, +rush, or demonstration without embarrassment, he is consoled and +applies his shoulder to the butt of his rifle with a stout heart. His +peace is the greater if he hears a senior, who has taught him his +soldiering and broken his head on occasion, whispering: 'They'll shout +and carry on like this for five minutes. Then they'll rush in, and +then we've got 'em by the short hairs!'</p> + +<p>But, on the other hand, if he sees only men of his own term of +service, turning white and playing with their triggers and saying: +'What the Hell's up now?' while the Company Commanders are sweating +into their sword-hilts and shouting: 'Front-rank, fix bayonets. Steady +there—steady! Sight for three hundred—no, for five! Lie down, all! +Steady! Front-rank kneel!' and so forth, he becomes unhappy; and grows +acutely miserable when he hears a comrade turn over with the rattle of +fire-irons falling into the fender, and the grunt of a pole-axed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>ox. +If he can be moved about a little and allowed to watch the effect of +his own fire on the enemy he feels merrier, and may be then worked up +to the blind passion of fighting, which is, contrary to general +belief, controlled by a chilly Devil and shakes men like ague. If he +is not moved about, and begins to feel cold at the pit of the stomach, +and in that crisis is badly mauled and hears orders that were never +given, he will break, and he will break badly; and of all things under +the light of the Sun there is nothing more terrible than a broken +British regiment. When the worst comes to the worst and the panic is +really epidemic, the men must be e'en let go, and the Company +Commanders had better escape to the enemy and stay there for safety's +sake. If they can be made to come again they are not pleasant men to +meet; because they will not break twice.</p> + +<p>About thirty years from this date, when we have succeeded in +half-educating everything that wears trousers, our Army will be a +beautifully unreliable machine. It will know too much and it will do +too little. Later still, when all men are at the mental level of the +officer of to-day, it will sweep the earth. Speaking roughly, you must +employ either blackguards or gentlemen, or, best of all, blackguards +commanded by gentlemen, to do butcher's work with efficiency and +despatch. The ideal soldier should, of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>course, think for himself—the +<i>Pocket-book</i> says so. Unfortunately, to attain this virtue he has to +pass through the phase of thinking of himself, and that is misdirected +genius. A blackguard may be slow to think for himself, but he is +genuinely anxious to kill, and a little punishment teaches him how to +guard his own skin and perforate another's. A powerfully prayerful +Highland Regiment, officered by rank Presbyterians, is, perhaps, one +degree more terrible in action than a hard-bitten thousand of +irresponsible Irish ruffians led by most improper young unbelievers. +But these things prove the rule—which is that the midway men are not +to be trusted alone. They have ideas about the value of life and an +upbringing that has not taught them to go on and take the chances. +They are carefully unprovided with a backing of comrades who have been +shot over, and until that backing is re-introduced, as a great many +Regimental Commanders intend it shall be, they are more liable to +disgrace themselves than the size of the Empire or the dignity of the +Army allows. Their officers are as good as good can be, because their +training begins early, and God has arranged that a clean-run youth of +the British middle classes shall, in the matter of backbone, brains, +and bowels, surpass all other youths. For this reason a child of +eighteen will stand up, doing nothing, with a tin sword in his hand +and joy in his heart until he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>is dropped. If he dies, he dies like a +gentleman. If he lives, he writes Home that he has been 'potted,' +'sniped,' 'chipped,' or 'cut over,' and sits down to besiege +Government for a wound-gratuity until the next little war breaks out, +when he perjures himself before a Medical Board, blarneys his Colonel, +burns incense round his Adjutant, and is allowed to go to the Front +once more.</p> + +<p>Which homily brings me directly to a brace of the most finished little +fiends that ever banged drum or tootled fife in the Band of a British +Regiment. They ended their sinful career by open and flagrant mutiny +and were shot for it. Their names were Jakin and Lew—Piggy Lew—and +they were bold, bad drummer-boys, both of them frequently birched by +the Drum-Major of the Fore and Aft.</p> + +<p>Jakin was a stunted child of fourteen, and Lew was about the same age. +When not looked after, they smoked and drank. They swore habitually +after the manner of the Barrack-room, which is cold-swearing and comes +from between clinched teeth; and they fought religiously once a week. +Jakin had sprung from some London gutter, and may or may not have +passed through Dr. Barnardo's hands ere he arrived at the dignity of +drummer-boy. Lew could remember nothing except the Regiment and the +delight of listening to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>the Band from his earliest years. He hid +somewhere in his grimy little soul a genuine love for music, and was +most mistakenly furnished with the head of a cherub: insomuch that +beautiful ladies who watched the Regiment in church were wont to speak +of him as a 'darling.' They never heard his vitriolic comments on +their manners and morals, as he walked back to barracks with the Band +and matured fresh causes of offence against Jakin.</p> + +<p>The other drummer-boys hated both lads on account of their illogical +conduct. Jakin might be pounding Lew, or Lew might be rubbing Jakin's +head in the dirt, but any attempt at aggression on the part of an +outsider was met by the combined forces of Lew and Jakin; and the +consequences were painful. The boys were the Ishmaels of the corps, +but wealthy Ishmaels, for they sold battles in alternate weeks for the +sport of the barracks when they were not pitted against other boys; +and thus amassed money.</p> + +<p>On this particular day there was dissension in the camp. They had just +been convicted afresh of smoking, which is bad for little boys who use +plug-tobacco, and Lew's contention was that Jakin had 'stunk so 'orrid +bad from keepin' the pipe in pocket,' that he and he alone was +responsible for the birching they were both tingling under.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>'I tell you I 'id the pipe back o' barracks,' said Jakin pacifically.</p> + +<p>'You're a bloomin' liar,' said Lew without heat.</p> + +<p>'You're a bloomin' little barstard,' said Jakin, strong in the +knowledge that his own ancestry was unknown.</p> + +<p>Now there is one word in the extended vocabulary of barrack-room abuse +that cannot pass without comment. You may call a man a thief and risk +nothing. You may even call him a coward without finding more than a +boot whiz past your ear, but you must not call a man a bastard unless +you are prepared to prove it on his front teeth.</p> + +<p>'You might ha' kep' that till I wasn't so sore,' said Lew sorrowfully, +dodging round Jakin's guard.</p> + +<p>'I'll make you sorer,' said Jakin genially, and got home on Lew's +alabaster forehead. All would have gone well and this story, as the +books say, would never have been written, had not his evil fate +prompted the Bazar-Sergeant's son, a long, employless man of +five-and-twenty, to put in an appearance after the first round. He was +eternally in need of money, and knew that the boys had silver.</p> + +<p>'Fighting again,' said he. 'I'll report you to my father, and he'll +report you to the Colour-Sergeant.'</p> + +<p>'What's that to you?' said Jakin with an unpleasant dilation of the +nostrils.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>'Oh! nothing to <i>me</i>. You'll get into trouble, and you've been up too +often to afford that.'</p> + +<p>'What the Hell do you know about what we've done?' asked Lew the +Seraph. '<i>You</i> aren't in the Army, you lousy, cadging civilian.'</p> + +<p>He closed in on the man's left flank.</p> + +<p>'Jes' 'cause you find two gentlemen settlin' their diff'rences with +their fistes you stick in your ugly nose where you aren't wanted. Run +'ome to your 'arf-caste slut of a Ma—or we'll give you what-for,' +said Jakin.</p> + +<p>The man attempted reprisals by knocking the boys' heads together. The +scheme would have succeeded had not Jakin punched him vehemently in +the stomach, or had Lew refrained from kicking his shins. They fought +together, bleeding and breathless, for half an hour, and, after heavy +punishment, triumphantly pulled down their opponent as terriers pull +down a jackal.</p> + +<p>'Now,' gasped Jakin, 'I'll give you what-for.' He proceeded to pound +the man's features while Lew stamped on the outlying portions of his +anatomy. Chivalry is not a strong point in the composition of the +average drummer-boy. He fights, as do his betters, to make his mark.</p> + +<p>Ghastly was the ruin that escaped, and awful was the wrath of the +Bazar-Sergeant. Awful, too, was the scene in Orderly-room when the two +reprobates <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>appeared to answer the charge of half-murdering a +'civilian.' The Bazar-Sergeant thirsted for a criminal action, and his +son lied. The boys stood to attention while the black clouds of +evidence accumulated.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep035" id="imagep035"></a> +<a href="images/imagep035.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep035.jpg" width="50%" alt="Are you going to argue with me?" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">'Hey! What? Are you going to argue with <i>me</i>?' said the +Colonel.—<span class="fakesc">P. 35.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'You little devils are more trouble than the rest of the Regiment put +together,' said the Colonel angrily. 'One might as well admonish +thistledown, and I can't well put you in cells or under stoppages. You +must be birched again.'</p> + +<p>'Beg y' pardon, Sir. Can't we say nothin' in our own defence, Sir?' +shrilled Jakin.</p> + +<p>'Hey! What? Are you going to argue with <i>me</i>?' said the Colonel.</p> + +<p>'No, Sir,' said Lew. 'But if a man come to you, Sir, and said he was +going to report you, Sir, for 'aving a bit of a turn-up with a friend, +Sir, an' wanted to get money out o' <i>you</i>, Sir—'</p> + +<p>The Orderly-room exploded in a roar of laughter. 'Well?' said the +Colonel.</p> + +<p>'That was what that measly <i>jarnwar</i> there did, Sir, and 'e'd 'a' +<i>done</i> it, Sir, if we 'adn't prevented 'im. We didn't 'it 'im much, +Sir. 'E 'adn't no manner o' right to interfere with us, Sir. I don't +mind bein' birched by the Drum-Major, Sir, nor yet reported by <i>any</i> +Corp'ral, but I'm—but I don't think it's fair, Sir, for a civilian to +come an' talk over a man in the Army.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>A second shout of laughter shook the Orderly-room, but the Colonel was +grave.</p> + +<p>'What sort of characters have these boys?' he asked of the Regimental +Sergeant-Major.</p> + +<p>'Accordin' to the Bandmaster, Sir,' returned that revered +official—the only soul in the regiment whom the boys feared—'they do +everything <i>but</i> lie, Sir.'</p> + +<p>'Is it like we'd go for that man for fun, Sir?' said Lew, pointing to +the plaintiff.</p> + +<p>'Oh, admonished—admonished!' said the Colonel testily, and when the +boys had gone he read the Bazar-Sergeant's son a lecture on the sin of +unprofitable meddling, and gave orders that the Bandmaster should keep +the Drums in better discipline.</p> + +<p>'If either of you comes to practice again with so much as a scratch on +your two ugly little faces,' thundered the Bandmaster, 'I'll tell the +Drum-Major to take the skin off your backs. Understand that, you young +devils.'</p> + +<p>Then he repented of his speech for just the length of time that Lew, +looking like a Seraph in red worsted embellishments, took the place of +one of the trumpets—in hospital—and rendered the echo of a +battle-piece. Lew certainly was a musician, and had often in his more +exalted moments expressed a yearning to master every instrument of the +Band.</p> + +<p>'There's nothing to prevent your becoming a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>Bandmaster, Lew,' said +the Bandmaster, who had composed waltzes of his own, and worked day +and night in the interests of the Band.</p> + +<p>'What did he say?' demanded Jakin after practice.</p> + +<p>''Said I might be a bloomin' Bandmaster, an' be asked in to 'ave a +glass o' sherry-wine on Mess-nights.'</p> + +<p>'Ho! 'Said you might be a bloomin' non-combatant, did 'e! That's just +about wot 'e would say. When I've put in my boy's service—it's a +bloomin' shame that doesn't count for pension—I'll take on as a +privit. Then I'll be a Lance in a year—knowin' what I know about the +ins an' outs o' things. In three years I'll be a bloomin' Sergeant. I +won't marry then, not I! I'll 'old on and learn the orf'cers' ways an' +apply for exchange into a reg'ment that doesn't know all about me. +Then I'll be a bloomin' orf'cer. Then I'll ask you to 'ave a glass o' +sherry-wine, <i>Mister</i> Lew, an' you'll bloomin' well 'ave to stay in +the hanty-room while the Mess-Sergeant brings it to your dirty 'ands.'</p> + +<p>''S'pose I'm going to be a Bandmaster? Not I, quite. I'll be a orf'cer +too. There's nothin' like takin' to a thing an' stickin' to it, the +Schoolmaster says. The reg'ment don't go 'ome for another seven years. +I'll be a Lance then or near to.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>Thus the boys discussed their futures, and conducted themselves +piously for a week. That is to say, Lew started a flirtation with the +Colour-Sergeant's daughter, aged thirteen—'not,' as he explained to +Jakin, 'with any intention o' matrimony, but by way o' keepin' my 'and +in.' And the black-haired Cris Delighan enjoyed that flirtation more +than previous ones, and the other drummer-boys raged furiously +together, and Jakin preached sermons on the dangers of 'bein' tangled +along o' petticoats.'</p> + +<p>But neither love nor virtue would have held Lew long in the paths of +propriety had not the rumour gone abroad that the Regiment was to be +sent on active service, to take part in a war which, for the sake of +brevity, we will call 'The War of the Lost Tribes.'</p> + +<p>The barracks had the rumour almost before the Mess-room, and of all +the nine hundred men in barracks not ten had seen a shot fired in +anger. The Colonel had, twenty years ago, assisted at a Frontier +expedition; one of the Majors had seen service at the Cape; a +confirmed deserter in E Company had helped to clear streets in +Ireland; but that was all. The Regiment had been put by for many +years. The overwhelming mass of its rank and file had from three to +four years' service; the non-commissioned officers were under thirty +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>years old; and men and sergeants alike had forgotten to speak of the +stories written in brief upon the Colours—the New Colours that had +been formally blessed by an Archbishop in England ere the Regiment +came away.</p> + +<p>They wanted to go to the Front—they were enthusiastically anxious to +go—but they had no knowledge of what war meant, and there was none to +tell them. They were an educated regiment, the percentage of +school-certificates in their ranks was high, and most of the men could +do more than read and write. They had been recruited in loyal +observance of the territorial idea; but they themselves had no notion +of that idea. They were made up of drafts from an over-populated +manufacturing district. The system had put flesh and muscle upon their +small bones, but it could not put heart into the sons of those who for +generations had done overmuch work for over-scanty pay, had sweated in +drying-rooms, stooped over looms, coughed among white-lead, and +shivered on lime-barges. The men had found food and rest in the Army, +and now they were going to fight 'niggers'—people who ran away if you +shook a stick at them. Wherefore they cheered lustily when the rumour +ran, and the shrewd, clerkly non-commissioned officers speculated on +the chances of batta and of saving their pay. At Headquarters men +said: 'The Fore <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>and Fit have never been under fire within the last +generation. Let us, therefore, break them in easily by setting them to +guard lines of communication.' And this would have been done but for +the fact that British Regiments were wanted—badly wanted—at the +Front, and there were doubtful Native Regiments that could fill the +minor duties. 'Brigade 'em with two strong Regiments,' said +Headquarters. 'They may be knocked about a bit, though they'll learn +their business before they come through. Nothing like a night-alarm +and a little cutting up of stragglers to make a Regiment smart in the +field. Wait till they've had half-a-dozen sentries' throats cut.'</p> + +<p>The Colonel wrote with delight that the temper of his men was +excellent, that the Regiment was all that could be wished and as sound +as a bell. The Majors smiled with a sober joy, and the subalterns +waltzed in pairs down the Mess-room after dinner, and nearly shot +themselves at revolver-practice. But there was consternation in the +hearts of Jakin and Lew. What was to be done with the Drums? Would the +Band go to the Front? How many of the Drums would accompany the +Regiment?</p> + +<p>They took counsel together, sitting in a tree and smoking.</p> + +<p>'It's more than a bloomin' toss-up they'll leave us be'ind at the +Depot with the women. You'll like that,' said Jakin sarcastically.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>''Cause o' Cris, y' mean? Wot's a woman, or a 'ole bloomin' depot o' +women, 'longside o' the chanst of field-service? You know I'm as keen +on goin' as you,' said Lew.</p> + +<p>''Wish I was a bloomin' bugler,' said Jakin sadly. 'They'll take Tom +Kidd along, that I can plaster a wall with, an' like as not they won't +take us.'</p> + +<p>'Then let's go an' make Tom Kidd so bloomin' sick 'e can't bugle no +more. You 'old 'is 'ands an' I'll kick him,' said Lew, wriggling on +the branch.</p> + +<p>'That ain't no good neither. We ain't the sort o' characters to +presoom on our rep'tations—they're bad. If they leave the Band at the +Depot we don't go, and no error <i>there</i>. If they take the Band we may +get cast for medical unfitness. Are you medical fit, Piggy?' said +Jakin, digging Lew in the ribs with force.</p> + +<p>'Yus,' said Lew with an oath. 'The Doctor says your 'eart's weak +through smokin' on an empty stummick. Throw a chest an' I'll try yer.'</p> + +<p>Jakin threw out his chest, which Lew smote with all his might. Jakin +turned very pale, gasped, crowed, screwed up his eyes, and +said—'That's all right.'</p> + +<p>'You'll do,' said Lew. 'I've 'eard o' men dyin' when you 'it 'em fair +on the breastbone.'</p> + +<p>'Don't bring us no nearer goin', though,' said Jakin. 'Do you know +where we're ordered?'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>'Gawd knows, an' 'E won't split on a pal. Somewheres up to the Front +to kill Paythans—hairy big beggars that turn you inside out if they +get 'old o' you. They say their women are good-looking, too.'</p> + +<p>'Any loot?' asked the abandoned Jakin.</p> + +<p>'Not a bloomin' anna, they say, unless you dig up the ground an' see +what the niggers 'ave 'id. They're a poor lot.' Jakin stood upright on +the branch and gazed across the plain.</p> + +<p>'Lew,' said he, 'there's the Colonel coming. 'Colonel's a good old +beggar. Let's go an' talk to 'im.'</p> + +<p>Lew nearly fell out of the tree at the audacity of the suggestion. +Like Jakin he feared not God, neither regarded he Man, but there are +limits even to the audacity of drummer-boy, and to speak to a Colonel +was——</p> + +<p>But Jakin had slid down the trunk and doubled in the direction of the +Colonel. That officer was walking wrapped in thought and visions of a +C.B.—yes, even a K.C.B., for had he not at command one of the best +Regiments of the Line—the Fore and Fit? And he was aware of two small +boys charging down upon him. Once before it had been solemnly reported +to him that 'the Drums were in a state of mutiny,' Jakin and Lew being +the ringleaders. This looked like an organised conspiracy.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>The boys halted at twenty yards, walked to the regulation four paces, +and saluted together, each as well-set-up as a ramrod and little +taller.</p> + +<p>The Colonel was in a genial mood; the boys appeared very forlorn and +unprotected on the desolate plain, and one of them was handsome.</p> + +<p>'Well!' said the Colonel, recognising them. 'Are you going to pull me +down in the open? I'm sure I never interfere with you, even +though'—he sniffed suspiciously—'you have been smoking.'</p> + +<p>It was time to strike while the iron was hot. Their hearts beat +tumultuously.</p> + +<p>'Beg y' pardon, Sir,' began Jakin. 'The Reg'ment's ordered on active +service, Sir?'</p> + +<p>'So I believe,' said the Colonel courteously.</p> + +<p>'Is the Band goin', Sir?' said both together. Then, without pause, +'We're goin', Sir, ain't we?'</p> + +<p>'You!' said the Colonel, stepping back the more fully to take in the +two small figures. 'You! You'd die in the first march.'</p> + +<p>'No, we wouldn't, Sir. We can march with the Reg'ment +anywheres—p'rade an' anywhere else,' said Jakin.</p> + +<p>'If Tom Kidd goes 'e'll shut up like a clasp-knife,' said Lew. 'Tom +'as very-close veins in both 'is legs, Sir.'</p> + +<p>'Very how much?'</p> + +<p>'Very-close veins, Sir. That's why they swells <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>after long p'rade, +Sir. If 'e can go, we can go, Sir.'</p> + +<p>Again the Colonel looked at them long and intently.</p> + +<p>'Yes, the Band is going,' he said as gravely as though he had been +addressing a brother officer. 'Have you any parents, either of you +two?'</p> + +<p>'No, Sir,' rejoicingly from Lew and Jakin. 'We're both orphans, Sir. +There's no one to be considered of on our account, Sir.'</p> + +<p>'You poor little sprats, and you want to go up to the Front with the +Regiment, do you? Why?'</p> + +<p>'I've wore the Queen's Uniform for two years,' said Jakin. 'It's very +'ard, Sir, that a man don't get no recompense for doin' of 'is dooty, +Sir.'</p> + +<p>'An'—an' if I don't go, Sir,' interrupted Lew, 'the Bandmaster 'e +says 'e'll catch an' make a bloo—a blessed musician o' me, Sir. +Before I've seen any service, Sir.'</p> + +<p>The Colonel made no answer for a long time. Then he said quietly: 'If +you're passed by the Doctor I daresay you can go. I shouldn't smoke if +I were you.'</p> + +<p>The boys saluted and disappeared. The Colonel walked home and told the +story to his wife, who nearly cried over it. The Colonel was well +pleased. If that was the temper of the children, what would not the +men do?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>Jakin and Lew entered the boys' barrack-room with great stateliness, +and refused to hold any conversation with their comrades for at least +ten minutes. Then, bursting with pride, Jakin drawled: 'I've bin +intervooin' the Colonel. Good old beggar is the Colonel. Says I to +'im, "Colonel," says I, "let me go to the Front, along o' the +Reg'ment."—"To the Front you shall go," says 'e, "an' I only wish +there was more like you among the dirty little devils that bang the +bloomin' drums." Kidd, if you throw your 'courtrements at me for +tellin' you the truth to your own advantage, your legs'll swell.'</p> + +<p>None the less there was a Battle-Royal in the barrack-room, for the +boys were consumed with envy and hate, and neither Jakin nor Lew +behaved in conciliatory wise.</p> + +<p>'I'm goin' out to say adoo to my girl,' said Lew, to cap the climax. +'Don't none o' you touch my kit because it's wanted for active +service; me bein' specially invited to go by the Colonel.'</p> + +<p>He strolled forth and whistled in the clump of trees at the back of +the Married Quarters till Cris came to him, and, the preliminary +kisses being given and taken, Lew began to explain the situation.</p> + +<p>'I'm goin' to the Front with the Reg'ment,' he said valiantly.</p> + +<p>'Piggy, you're a little liar,' said Cris, but her heart misgave her, +for Lew was not in the habit of lying.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>'Liar yourself, Cris,' said Lew, slipping an arm round her. 'I'm +goin'. When the Reg'ment marches out you'll see me with 'em, all +galliant and gay. Give us another kiss, Cris, on the strength of it.'</p> + +<p>'If you'd on'y a-stayed at the Depot—where you <i>ought</i> to ha' +bin—you could get as many of 'em as—as you dam please,' whimpered +Cris, putting up her mouth.</p> + +<p>'It's 'ard, Cris. I grant you it's 'ard. But what's a man to do? If +I'd a-stayed at the Depot, you wouldn't think anything of me.'</p> + +<p>'Like as not, but I'd 'ave you with me, Piggy. An' all the thinkin' in +the world isn't like kissin'.'</p> + +<p>'An' all the kissin' in the world isn't like 'avin' a medal to wear on +the front o' your coat.'</p> + +<p>'<i>You</i> won't get no medal.'</p> + +<p>'Oh yus, I shall though. Me an' Jakin are the only acting-drummers +that'll be took along. All the rest is full men, an' we'll get our +medals with them.'</p> + +<p>'They might ha' taken anybody but you, Piggy. You'll get +killed—you're so venturesome. Stay with me, Piggy darlin', down at +the Depot, an' I'll love you true for ever.'</p> + +<p>'Ain't you goin' to do that <i>now</i>, Cris? You said you was.'</p> + +<p>'O' course I am, but th' other's more comfortable. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>Wait till you've +growed a bit, Piggy. You aren't no taller than me now.'</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep047" id="imagep047"></a> +<a href="images/imagep047.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep047.jpg" width="50%" alt="Cris slid an arm round his neck" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Cris slid an arm round his neck.—<span class="fakesc">P. 47.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'I've bin in the Army for two years an' I'm not goin' to get out of a +chanst o' seein' service, an' don't you try to make me do so. I'll +come back, Cris, an' when I take on as a man I'll marry you—marry you +when I'm a Lance.'</p> + +<p>'Promise, Piggy?'</p> + +<p>Lew reflected on the future as arranged by Jakin a short time +previously, but Cris's mouth was very near to his own.</p> + +<p>'I promise, s'elp me Gawd!' said he.</p> + +<p>Cris slid an arm round his neck.</p> + +<p>'I won't 'old you back no more, Piggy. Go away an' get your medal, an' +I'll make you a new button-bag as nice as I know how,' she whispered.</p> + +<p>'Put some o' your 'air into it, Cris, an' I'll keep it in my pocket so +long's I'm alive.'</p> + +<p>Then Cris wept anew, and the interview ended.</p> + +<p>Public feeling among the drummer-boys rose to fever pitch and the +lives of Jakin and Lew became unenviable. Not only had they been +permitted to enlist two years before the regulation boy's +age—fourteen—but, by virtue, it seemed, of their extreme youth, they +were allowed to go to the Front—which thing had not happened to +acting-drummers within the knowledge of boy. The Band which was to +accompany the Regiment had been cut down to the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>regulation twenty +men, the surplus returning to the ranks. Jakin and Lew were attached +to the Band as supernumeraries, though they would much have preferred +being Company buglers.</p> + +<p>''Don't matter much,' said Jakin after the medical inspection. 'Be +thankful that we're 'lowed to go at all. The Doctor 'e said that if we +could stand what we took from the Bazar-Sergeant's son we'd stand +pretty nigh anything.'</p> + +<p>'Which we will,' said Lew, looking tenderly at the ragged and ill-made +housewife that Cris had given him, with a lock of her hair worked into +a sprawling 'L' upon the cover.</p> + +<p>'It was the best I could,' she sobbed. 'I wouldn't let mother nor the +Sergeants' tailor 'elp me. Keep it always, Piggy, an' remember I love +you true.'</p> + +<p>They marched to the railway station, nine hundred and sixty strong, +and every soul in cantonments turned out to see them go. The drummers +gnashed their teeth at Jakin and Lew marching with the Band, the +married women wept upon the platform, and the Regiment cheered its +noble self black in the face.</p> + +<p>'A nice level lot,' said the Colonel to the Second-in-Command as they +watched the first four companies entraining.</p> + +<p>'Fit to do anything,' said the Second-in-Command enthusiastically. +'But it seems to me they're a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>thought too young and tender for the +work in hand. It's bitter cold up at the Front now.'</p> + +<p>'They're sound enough,' said the Colonel. 'We must take our chance of +sick casualties.'</p> + +<p>So they went northward, ever northward, past droves and droves of +camels, armies of camp followers, and legions of laden mules, the +throng thickening day by day, till with a shriek the train pulled up +at a hopelessly congested junction where six lines of temporary track +accommodated six forty-waggon trains; where whistles blew, Babus +sweated, and Commissariat officers swore from dawn till far into the +night amid the wind-driven chaff of the fodder-bales and the lowing of +a thousand steers.</p> + +<p>'Hurry up—you're badly wanted at the Front,' was the message that +greeted the Fore and Aft, and the occupants of the Red Cross carriages +told the same tale.</p> + +<p>''Tisn't so much the bloomin' fightin',' gasped a headbound trooper of +Hussars to a knot of admiring Fore and Afts. ''Tisn't so much the +bloomin' fightin', though there's enough o' that. It's the bloomin' +food an' the bloomin' climate. Frost all night 'cept when it hails, +and biling sun all day, and the water stinks fit to knock you down. I +got my 'ead chipped like a egg; I've got pneumonia too, an' my guts is +all out o' order. 'Tain't no bloomin' picnic in those parts, I can +tell you.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>'Wot are the niggers like?' demanded a private.</p> + +<p>'There's some prisoners in that train yonder. Go an' look at 'em. +They're the aristocracy o' the country. The common folk are a dashed +sight uglier. If you want to know what they fight with, reach under my +seat an' pull out the long knife that's there.'</p> + +<p>They dragged out and beheld for the first time the grim, bone-handled, +triangular Afghan knife. It was almost as long as Lew.</p> + +<p>'That's the thing to jint ye,' said the trooper feebly. 'It can take +off a man's arm at the shoulder as easy as slicing butter. I halved +the beggar that used that 'un, but there's more of his likes up above. +They don't understand thrustin', but they're devils to slice.'</p> + +<p>The men strolled across the tracks to inspect the Afghan prisoners. +They were unlike any 'niggers' that the Fore and Aft had ever +met—these huge, black-haired, scowling sons of the Beni-Israel. As +the men stared the Afghans spat freely and muttered one to another +with lowered eyes.</p> + +<p>'My eyes! Wot awful swine!' said Jakin, who was in the rear of the +procession. 'Say, old man, how you got <i>puckrowed</i>, eh? <i>Kiswasti</i> you +wasn't hanged for your ugly face, hey?'</p> + +<p>The tallest of the company turned, his leg-irons clanking at the +movement, and stared at the boy. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>'See!' he cried to his fellows in +Pushto. 'They send children against us. What a people, and what +fools!'</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep050" id="imagep050"></a> +<a href="images/imagep050.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep050.jpg" width="50%" alt="The men strolled across the tracks" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">The men strolled across the tracks to inspect the +Afghan prisoners.—<span class="fakesc">P. 50.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'<i>Hya!</i>' said Jakin, nodding his head cheerily. 'You go down-country. +<i>Khana</i> get, <i>peenikapanee</i> get—live like a bloomin' Raja <i>ke +marfik</i>. That's a better <i>bandobust</i> than baynit get it in your +innards. Good-bye, ole man. Take care o' your beautiful figure-'ad, +an' try to look <i>kushy</i>.'</p> + +<p>The men laughed and fell in for their first march, when they began to +realise that a soldier's life was not all beer and skittles. They were +much impressed with the size and bestial ferocity of the niggers whom +they had now learned to call 'Paythans,' and more with the exceeding +discomfort of their own surroundings. Twenty old soldiers in the corps +would have taught them how to make themselves moderately snug at +night, but they had no old soldiers, and, as the troops on the line of +march said, 'they lived like pigs.' They learned the heart-breaking +cussedness of camp-kitchens and camels and the depravity of an E.P. +tent and a wither-wrung mule. They studied animalculæ in water, and +developed a few cases of dysentery in their study.</p> + +<p>At the end of their third march they were disagreeably surprised by +the arrival in their camp of a hammered iron slug which, fired from a +steady rest at seven hundred yards, flicked out the brains of a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>private seated by the fire. This robbed them of their peace for a +night, and was the beginning of a long-range fire carefully calculated +to that end. In the daytime they saw nothing except an unpleasant puff +of smoke from a crag above the line of march. At night there were +distant spurts of flame and occasional casualties, which set the whole +camp blazing into the gloom and, occasionally, into opposite tents. +Then they swore vehemently and vowed that this was magnificent, but +not war.</p> + +<p>Indeed it was not. The Regiment could not halt for reprisals against +the sharpshooters of the countryside. Its duty was to go forward and +make connection with the Scotch and Gurkha troops with which it was +brigaded. The Afghans knew this, and knew too, after their first +tentative shots, that they were dealing with a raw regiment. +Thereafter they devoted themselves to the task of keeping the Fore and +Aft on the strain. Not for anything would they have taken equal +liberties with a seasoned corps—with the wicked little Gurkhas, whose +delight it was to lie out in the open on a dark night and stalk their +stalkers—with the terrible, big men dressed in women's clothes, who +could be heard praying to their God in the night-watches, and whose +peace of mind no amount of 'sniping' could shake—or with those vile +Sikhs, who marched so ostentatiously unprepared and who dealt out such +grim reward to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>those who tried to profit by that unpreparedness. This +white regiment was different—quite different. It slept like a hog, +and, like a hog, charged in every direction when it was roused. Its +sentries walked with a footfall that could be heard for a quarter of a +mile, would fire at anything that moved—even a driven donkey—and +when they had once fired, could be scientifically 'rushed' and laid +out a horror and an offence against the morning sun. Then there were +camp-followers who straggled and could be cut up without fear. Their +shrieks would disturb the white boys, and the loss of their services +would inconvenience them sorely.</p> + +<p>Thus, at every march, the hidden enemy became bolder and the regiment +writhed and twisted under attacks it could not avenge. The crowning +triumph was a sudden night-rush ending in the cutting of many +tent-ropes, the collapse of the sodden canvas, and a glorious knifing +of the men who struggled and kicked below. It was a great deed, neatly +carried out, and it shook the already shaken nerves of the Fore and +Aft. All the courage that they had been required to exercise up to +this point was the 'two o'clock in the morning courage'; and, so far, +they had only succeeded in shooting their comrades and losing their +sleep.</p> + +<p>Sullen, discontented, cold, savage, sick, with their uniforms dulled +and unclean, the Fore and Aft joined their Brigade.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>'I hear you had a tough time of it coming up,' said the Brigadier. But +when he saw the hospital-sheets his face fell.</p> + +<p>'This is bad,' said he to himself. 'They're as rotten as sheep.' And +aloud to the Colonel—'I'm afraid we can't spare you just yet. We want +all we have, else I should have given you ten days to recover in.'</p> + +<p>The Colonel winced. 'On my honour, Sir,' he returned, 'there is not +the least necessity to think of sparing us. My men have been rather +mauled and upset without a fair return. They only want to go in +somewhere where they can see what's before them.'</p> + +<p>'Can't say I think much of the Fore and Fit,' said the Brigadier in +confidence to his Brigade-Major. 'They've lost all their soldiering, +and, by the trim of them, might have marched through the country from +the other side. A more fagged-out set of men I never put eyes on.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, they'll improve as the work goes on. The parade gloss has been +rubbed off a little, but they'll put on field polish before long,' +said the Brigade-Major. 'They've been mauled, and they don't quite +understand it.'</p> + +<p>They did not. All the hitting was on one side, and it was cruelly hard +hitting with accessories that made them sick. There was also the real +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>sickness that laid hold of a strong man and dragged him howling to the +grave. Worst of all, their officers knew just as little of the country +as the men themselves, and looked as if they did. The Fore and Aft +were in a thoroughly unsatisfactory condition, but they believed that +all would be well if they could once get a fair go-in at the enemy. +Pot-shots up and down the valleys were unsatisfactory, and the bayonet +never seemed to get a chance. Perhaps it was as well, for a +long-limbed Afghan with a knife had a reach of eight feet, and could +carry away lead that would disable three Englishmen.</p> + +<p>The Fore and Fit would like some rifle-practice at the enemy—all +seven hundred rifles blazing together. That wish showed the mood of +the men.</p> + +<p>The Gurkhas walked into their camp, and in broken, barrack-room +English strove to fraternise with them; offered them pipes of tobacco +and stood them treat at the canteen. But the Fore and Aft, not knowing +much of the nature of the Gurkhas, treated them as they would treat +any other 'niggers,' and the little men in green trotted back to their +firm friends the Highlanders, and with many grins confided to them: +'That dam white regiment no dam use. Sulky—ugh! Dirty—ugh! Hya, any +tot for Johnny?' Whereat the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>Highlanders smote the Gurkhas as to the +head, and told them not to vilify a British Regiment, and the Gurkhas +grinned cavernously, for the Highlanders were their elder brothers and +entitled to the privileges of kinship. The common soldier who touches +a Gurkha is more than likely to have his head sliced open.</p> + +<p>Three days later the Brigadier arranged a battle according to the +rules of war and the peculiarity of the Afghan temperament. The enemy +were massing in inconvenient strength among the hills, and the moving +of many green standards warned him that the tribes were 'up' in aid of +the Afghan regular troops. A squadron and a half of Bengal Lancers +represented the available Cavalry, and two screw-guns borrowed from a +column thirty miles away the Artillery at the General's disposal.</p> + +<p>'If they stand, as I've a very strong notion that they will, I fancy +we shall see an infantry fight that will be worth watching,' said the +Brigadier. 'We'll do it in style. Each regiment shall be played into +action by its Band, and we'll hold the Cavalry in reserve.'</p> + +<p>'For <i>all</i> the reserve?' somebody asked.</p> + +<p>'For all the reserve; because we're going to crumple them up,' said +the Brigadier, who was an extraordinary Brigadier, and did not believe +in the value of a reserve when dealing with Asiatics. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>Indeed, when +you come to think of it, had the British Army consistently waited for +reserves in all its little affairs, the boundaries of Our Empire would +have stopped at Brighton beach.</p> + +<p>That battle was to be a glorious battle.</p> + +<p>The three regiments debouching from three separate gorges, after duly +crowning the heights above, were to converge from the centre, left, +and right upon what we will call the Afghan army, then stationed +towards the lower extremity of a flat-bottomed valley. Thus it will be +seen that three sides of the valley practically belonged to the +English, while the fourth was strictly Afghan property. In the event +of defeat the Afghans had the rocky hills to fly to, where the fire +from the guerilla tribes in aid would cover their retreat. In the +event of victory these same tribes would rush down and lend their +weight to the rout of the British.</p> + +<p>The screw-guns were to shell the head of each Afghan rush that was +made in close formation, and the Cavalry, held in reserve in the right +valley, were to gently stimulate the break-up which would follow on +the combined attack. The Brigadier, sitting upon a rock overlooking +the valley, would watch the battle unrolled at his feet. The Fore and +Aft would debouch from the central gorge, the Gurkhas from the left, +and the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>Highlanders from the right, for the reason that the left +flank of the enemy seemed as though it required the most hammering. It +was not every day that an Afghan force would take ground in the open, +and the Brigadier was resolved to make the most of it.</p> + +<p>'If we only had a few more men,' he said plaintively, 'we could +surround the creatures and crumple 'em up thoroughly. As it is, I'm +afraid we can only cut them up as they run. It's a great pity.'</p> + +<p>The Fore and Aft had enjoyed unbroken peace for five days, and were +beginning, in spite of dysentery, to recover their nerve. But they +were not happy, for they did not know the work in hand, and had they +known, would not have known how to do it. Throughout those five days +in which old soldiers might have taught them the craft of the game, +they discussed together their misadventures in the past—how such an +one was alive at dawn and dead ere the dusk, and with what shrieks and +struggles such another had given up his soul under the Afghan knife. +Death was a new and horrible thing to the sons of mechanics who were +used to die decently of zymotic disease; and their careful +conservation in barracks had done nothing to make them look upon it +with less dread.</p> + +<p>Very early in the dawn the bugles began to blow, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>and the Fore and +Aft, filled with a misguided enthusiasm, turned out without waiting +for a cup of coffee and a biscuit; and were rewarded by being kept +under arms in the cold while the other regiments leisurely prepared +for the fray. All the world knows that it is ill taking the breeks off +a Highlander. It is much iller to try to make him stir unless he is +convinced of the necessity for haste.</p> + +<p>The Fore and Aft waited, leaning upon their rifles and listening to +the protests of their empty stomachs. The Colonel did his best to +remedy the default of lining as soon as it was borne in upon him that +the affair would not begin at once, and so well did he succeed that +the coffee was just ready when—the men moved off, their Band leading. +Even then there had been a mistake in time, and the Fore and Aft came +out into the valley ten minutes before the proper hour. Their Band +wheeled to the right after reaching the open, and retired behind a +little rocky knoll, still playing while the regiment went past.</p> + +<p>It was not a pleasant sight that opened on the uninstructed view, for +the lower end of the valley appeared to be filled by an army in +position—real and actual regiments attired in red coats, and—of this +there was no doubt—firing Martini-Henry bullets which cut up the +ground a hundred yards in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>front of the leading company. Over that +pock-marked ground the regiment had to pass, and it opened the ball +with a general and profound courtesy to the piping pickets; ducking in +perfect time, as though it had been brazed on a rod. Being +half-capable of thinking for itself, it fired a volley by the simple +process of pitching its rifle into its shoulder and pulling the +trigger. The bullets may have accounted for some of the watchers on +the hillside, but they certainly did not affect the mass of enemy in +front, while the noise of the rifles drowned any orders that might +have been given.</p> + +<p>'Good God!' said the Brigadier, sitting on the rock high above all. +'That regiment has spoilt the whole show. Hurry up the others, and let +the screw-guns get off.'</p> + +<p>But the screw-guns, in working round the heights, had stumbled upon a +wasp's nest of a small mud fort which they incontinently shelled at +eight hundred yards, to the huge discomfort of the occupants, who were +unaccustomed to weapons of such devilish precision.</p> + +<p>The Fore and Aft continued to go forward, but with shortened stride. +Where were the other regiments, and why did these niggers use +Martinis? They took open order instinctively, lying down and firing at +random, rushing a few paces forward and lying down again, according to +the regulations. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>Once in this formation, each man felt himself +desperately alone, and edged in towards his fellow for comfort's sake.</p> + +<p>Then the crack of his neighbour's rifle at his ear led him to fire as +rapidly as he could—again for the sake of the comfort of the noise. +The reward was not long delayed. Five volleys plunged the files in +banked smoke impenetrable to the eye, and the bullets began to take +ground twenty or thirty yards in front of the firers, as the weight of +the bayonet dragged down and to the right arms wearied with holding +the kick of the leaping Martini. The Company Commanders peered +helplessly through the smoke, the more nervous mechanically trying to +fan it away with their helmets.</p> + +<p>'High and to the left!' bawled a Captain till he was hoarse. 'No good! +Cease firing, and let it drift away a bit.'</p> + +<p>Three and four times the bugles shrieked the order, and when it was +obeyed the Fore and Aft looked that their foe should be lying before +them in mown swaths of men. A light wind drove the smoke to leeward, +and showed the enemy still in position and apparently unaffected. A +quarter of a ton of lead had been buried a furlong in front of them, +as the ragged earth attested.</p> + +<p>That was not demoralising to the Afghans, who have not European +nerves. They were waiting for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>the mad riot to die down, and were +firing quietly into the heart of the smoke. A private of the Fore and +Aft spun up his company shrieking with agony, another was kicking the +earth and gasping, and a third, ripped through the lower intestines by +a jagged bullet, was calling aloud on his comrades to put him out of +his pain. These were the casualties, and they were not soothing to +hear or see. The smoke cleared to a dull haze.</p> + +<p>Then the foe began to shout with a great shouting, and a mass—a black +mass—detached itself from the main body, and rolled over the ground +at horrid speed. It was composed of, perhaps, three hundred men, who +would shout and fire and slash if the rush of their fifty comrades who +were determined to die carried home. The fifty were Ghazis, +half-maddened with drugs and wholly mad with religious fanaticism. +When they rushed the British fire ceased, and in the lull the order +was given to close ranks and meet them with the bayonet.</p> + +<p>Any one who knew the business could have told the Fore and Aft that +the only way of dealing with a Ghazi rush is by volleys at long +ranges; because a man who means to die, who desires to die, who will +gain heaven by dying, must, in nine cases out of ten, kill a man who +has a lingering prejudice in favour of life. Where they should have +closed and gone forward, the Fore and Aft opened out and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>skirmished, +and where they should have opened out and fired, they closed and +waited.</p> + +<p>A man dragged from his blankets half awake and unfed is never in a +pleasant frame of mind. Nor does his happiness increase when he +watches the whites of the eyes of three hundred six-foot fiends upon +whose beards the foam is lying, upon whose tongues is a roar of wrath, +and in whose hands are yard-long knives.</p> + +<p>The Fore and Aft heard the Gurkha bugles bringing that regiment +forward at the double, while the neighing of the Highland pipes came +from the left. They strove to stay where they were, though the +bayonets wavered down the line like the oars of a ragged boat. Then +they felt body to body the amazing physical strength of their foes; a +shriek of pain ended the rush, and the knives fell amid scenes not to +be told. The men clubbed together and smote blindly—as often as not +at their own fellows. Their front crumpled like paper, and the fifty +Ghazis passed on; their backers, now drunk with success, fighting as +madly as they.</p> + +<p>Then the rear-ranks were bidden to close up, and the subalterns dashed +into the stew—alone. For the rear-rank had heard the clamour in +front, the yells and the howls of pain, and had seen the dark stale +blood that makes afraid. They were not going to stay. It was the +rushing of the camps over again. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>Let their officers go to Hell, if +they chose; they would get away from the knives.</p> + +<p>'Come on!' shrieked the subalterns, and their men, cursing them, drew +back, each closing into his neighbour and wheeling round.</p> + +<p>Charteris and Devlin, subalterns of the last company, faced their +death alone in the belief that their men would follow.</p> + +<p>'You've killed me, you cowards,' sobbed Devlin and dropped, cut from +the shoulder-strap to the centre of the chest, and a fresh detachment +of his men retreating, always retreating, trampled him under foot as +they made for the pass whence they had emerged.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I kissed her in the kitchen and I kissed her in the hall.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Child'un, child'un, follow me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh Golly, said the cook, is he gwine to kiss us all?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Halla—Halla—Halla—Hallelujah!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The Gurkhas were pouring through the left gorge and over the heights +at the double to the invitation of their Regimental Quick-step. The +black rocks were crowned with dark green spiders as the bugles gave +tongue jubilantly:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the morning! In the morning <i>by</i> the bright light!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Gabriel blows his trumpet in the morning!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The Gurkha rear-companies tripped and blundered over loose stones. The +front-files halted for a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>moment to take stock of the valley and to +settle stray boot-laces. Then a happy little sigh of contentment +soughed down the ranks, and it was as though the land smiled, for +behold there below was the enemy, and it was to meet them that the +Gurkhas had doubled so hastily. There was much enemy. There would be +amusement. The little men hitched their <i>kukris</i> well to hand, and +gaped expectantly at their officers as terriers grin ere the stone is +cast for them to fetch. The Gurkhas' ground sloped downward to the +valley, and they enjoyed a fair view of the proceedings. They sat upon +the boulders to watch, for their officers were not going to waste +their wind in assisting to repulse a Ghazi rush more than half a mile +away. Let the white men look to their own front.</p> + +<p>'Hi! yi!' said the Subadar-Major, who was sweating profusely. 'Dam +fools yonder, stand close-order! This is no time for close-order, it +is the time for volleys. Ugh!'</p> + +<p>Horrified, amused, and indignant, the Gurkhas beheld the retirement of +the Fore and Aft with a running chorus of oaths and commentaries.</p> + +<p>'They run! The white men run! Colonel Sahib, may <i>we</i> also do a little +running?' murmured Runbir Thappa, the Senior Jemadar.</p> + +<p>But the Colonel would have none of it. 'Let the beggars be cut up a +little,' said he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>wrathfully. ''Serves 'em right. They'll be prodded +into facing round in a minute.' He looked through his field-glasses, +and caught the glint of an officer's sword.</p> + +<p>'Beating 'em with the flat—damned conscripts! How the Ghazis are +walking into them!' said he.</p> + +<p>The Fore and Aft, heading back, bore with them their officers. The +narrowness of the pass forced the mob into solid formation, and the +rear-rank delivered some sort of a wavering volley. The Ghazis drew +off, for they did not know what reserves the gorge might hide. +Moreover, it was never wise to chase white men too far. They returned +as wolves return to cover, satisfied with the slaughter that they had +done, and only stopping to slash at the wounded on the ground. A +quarter of a mile had the Fore and Aft retreated, and now, jammed in +the pass, was quivering with pain, shaken and demoralised with fear, +while the officers, maddened beyond control, smote the men with the +hilts and the flats of their swords.</p> + +<p>'Get back! Get back, you cowards—you women! Right about face—column +of companies, form—you hounds!' shouted the Colonel, and the +subalterns swore aloud. But the Regiment wanted to go—to go anywhere +out of the range of those merciless knives. It swayed to and fro +irresolutely with shouts and outcries, while from the right the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>Gurkhas dropped volley after volley of cripple-stopper Snider bullets +at long range into the mob of the Ghazis returning to their own +troops.</p> + +<p>The Fore and Aft Band, though protected from direct fire by the rocky +knoll under which it had sat down, fled at the first rush. Jakin and +Lew would have fled also, but their short legs left them fifty yards +in the rear, and by the time the Band had mixed with the regiment, +they were painfully aware that they would have to close in alone and +unsupported.</p> + +<p>'Get back to that rock,' gasped Jakin. 'They won't see us there.'</p> + +<p>And they returned to the scattered instruments of the Band; their +hearts nearly bursting their ribs.</p> + +<p>'Here's a nice show for <i>us</i>,' said Jakin, throwing himself full +length on the ground. 'A bloomin' fine show for British Infantry! Oh, +the devils! They've gone an' left us alone here! Wot'll we do?'</p> + +<p>Lew took possession of a cast-off water bottle, which naturally was +full of canteen rum, and drank till he coughed again.</p> + +<p>'Drink,' said he shortly.' They'll come back in a minute or two—you +see.'</p> + +<p>Jakin drank, but there was no sign of the Regiment's return. They +could hear a dull clamour from <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>the head of the valley of retreat, and +saw the Ghazis slink back, quickening their pace as the Gurkhas fired +at them.</p> + +<p>'We're all that's left of the Band, an' we'll be cut up as sure as +death,' said Jakin.</p> + +<p>'I'll die game, then,' said Lew thickly, fumbling with his tiny +drummer's sword. The drink was working on his brain as it was on +Jakin's.</p> + +<p>''Old on! I know something better than fightin',' said Jakin, 'stung +by the splendour of a sudden thought' due chiefly to rum. 'Tip our +bloomin' cowards yonder the word to come back. The Paythan beggars are +well away. Come on, Lew! We won't get hurt. Take the fife and give me +the drum. The Old Step for all your bloomin' guts are worth! There's a +few of our men coming back now. Stand up, ye drunken little defaulter. +By your right—quick march!'</p> + +<p>He slipped the drum-sling over his shoulder, thrust the fife into +Lew's hand, and the two boys marched out of the cover of the rock into +the open, making a hideous hash of the first bars of the 'British +Grenadiers.'</p> + +<p>As Jakin had said, a few of the Fore and Aft were coming back sullenly +and shamefacedly under the stimulus of blows and abuse; their red +coats shone at the head of the valley, and behind them were wavering +bayonets. But between this <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>shattered line and the enemy, who with +Afghan suspicion feared that the hasty retreat meant an ambush, and +had not moved therefore, lay half a mile of level ground dotted only +by the wounded.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep069" id="imagep069"></a> +<a href="images/imagep069.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep069.jpg" width="50%" alt="The tune settled into full swing" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">The tune settled into full swing, and the boys kept +shoulder to shoulder.—<span class="fakesc">P. 69.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>The tune settled into full swing and the boys kept shoulder to +shoulder, Jakin banging the drum as one possessed. The one fife made a +thin and pitiful squeaking, but the tune carried far, even to the +Gurkhas.</p> + +<p>'Come on, you dogs!' muttered Jakin to himself. 'Are we to play for +hever?' Lew was staring straight in front of him and marching more +stiffly than ever he had done on parade.</p> + +<p>And in bitter mockery of the distant mob, the old tune of the Old Line +shrilled and rattled:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some talk of Alexander,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And some of Hercules;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Hector and Lysander,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And such great names as these!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There was a far-off clapping of hands from the Gurkhas, and a roar +from the Highlanders in the distance, but never a shot was fired by +British or Afghan. The two little red dots moved forward in the open +parallel to the enemy's front.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But of all the world's great heroes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There's none that can compare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a tow-row-row-row-row-row,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the British Grenadier!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>The men of the Fore and Aft were gathering thick at the entrance to +the plain. The Brigadier on the heights far above was speechless with +rage. Still no movement from the enemy. The day stayed to watch the +children.</p> + +<p>Jakin halted and beat the long roll of the Assembly, while the fife +squealed despairingly.</p> + +<p>'Right about face! Hold up, Lew, you're drunk,' said Jakin. They +wheeled and marched back:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Those heroes of antiquity<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ne'er saw a cannon-ball,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor knew the force o' powder,<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>'Here they come!' said Jakin. 'Go on, Lew':—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To scare their foes withal!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The Fore and Aft were pouring out of the valley. What officers had +said to men in that time of shame and humiliation will never be known; +for neither officers nor men speak of it now.</p> + +<p>'They are coming anew!' shouted a priest among the Afghans. 'Do not +kill the boys! Take them alive and they shall be of our faith.'</p> + +<p>But the first volley had been fired, and Lew dropped on his face. +Jakin stood for a minute, spun round and collapsed, as the Fore and +Aft came forward, the curses of their officers in their ears, and in +their hearts the shame of open shame.</p> + +<p>Half the men had seen the drummers die, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>they made no sign. They +did not even shout. They doubled out straight across the plain in open +order, and they did not fire.</p> + +<p>'This,' said the Colonel of Gurkhas softly, 'is the real attack, as it +should have been delivered. Come on, my children.'</p> + +<p>'Ulu-lu-lu-lu!' squealed the Gurkhas, and came down with a joyful +clicking of <i>kukris</i>—those vicious Gurkha knives.</p> + +<p>On the right there was no rush. The Highlanders, cannily commending +their souls to God (for it matters as much to a dead man whether he +has been shot in a Border scuffle or at Waterloo), opened out and +fired according to their custom, that is to say without heat and +without intervals, while the screw-guns, having disposed of the +impertinent mud fort aforementioned, dropped shell after shell into +the clusters round the flickering green standards on the heights.</p> + +<p>'Charrging is an unfortunate necessity,' murmured the Colour-Sergeant +of the right company of the Highlanders. 'It makes the men sweer so, +but I am thinkin' that it will come to a charrge if these black devils +stand much longer. Stewarrt, man, you're firing into the eye of the +sun, and he'll not take any harm for Government ammuneetion. A foot +lower and a great deal slower! What are the English doing? They're +very quiet there in the centre. Running again?'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>The English were not running. They were hacking and hewing and +stabbing, for though one white man is seldom physically a match for an +Afghan in a sheepskin or wadded coat, yet, through the pressure of +many white men behind, and a certain thirst for revenge in his heart, +he becomes capable of doing much with both ends of his rifle. The Fore +and Aft held their fire till one bullet could drive through five or +six men, and the front of the Afghan force gave on the volley. They +then selected their men, and slew them with deep gasps and short +hacking coughs, and groanings of leather belts against strained +bodies, and realised for the first time that an Afghan attacked is far +less formidable than an Afghan attacking: which fact old soldiers +might have told them.</p> + +<p>But they had no old soldiers in their ranks.</p> + +<p>The Gurkhas' stall at the bazar was the noisiest, for the men were +engaged—to a nasty noise as of beef being cut on the block—with the +<i>kukri</i>, which they preferred to the bayonet; well knowing how the +Afghan hates the half-moon blade.</p> + +<p>As the Afghans wavered, the green standards on the mountain moved down +to assist them in a last rally. This was unwise. The Lancers chafing +in the right gorge had thrice despatched their only subaltern as +galloper to report on the progress of affairs. On the third occasion +he returned, with a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>bullet-graze on his knee, swearing strange oaths +in Hindustani, and saying that all things were ready. So that Squadron +swung round the right of the Highlanders with a wicked whistling of +wind in the pennons of its lances, and fell upon the remnant just +when, according to all the rules of war, it should have waited for the +foe to show more signs of wavering.</p> + +<p>But it was a dainty charge, deftly delivered, and it ended by the +Cavalry finding itself at the head of the pass by which the Afghans +intended to retreat; and down the track that the lances had made +streamed two companies of the Highlanders, which was never intended by +the Brigadier. The new development was successful. It detached the +enemy from his base as a sponge is torn from a rock, and left him +ringed about with fire in that pitiless plain. And as a sponge is +chased round the bath-tub by the hand of the bather, so were the +Afghans chased till they broke into little detachments much more +difficult to dispose of than large masses.</p> + +<p>'See!' quoth the Brigadier. 'Everything has come as I arranged. We've +cut their base, and now we'll bucket 'em to pieces.'</p> + +<p>A direct hammering was all that the Brigadier had dared to hope for, +considering the size of the force at his disposal; but men who stand +or fall by the errors of their opponents may be forgiven for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>turning +Chance into Design. The bucketing went forward merrily. The Afghan +forces were upon the run—the run of wearied wolves who snarl and bite +over their shoulders. The red lances dipped by twos and threes, and, +with a shriek, up rose the lance-butt, like a spar on a stormy sea, as +the trooper cantering forward cleared his point. The Lancers kept +between their prey and the steep hills, for all who could were trying +to escape from the valley of death. The Highlanders gave the fugitives +two hundred yards' law, and then brought them down, gasping and +choking ere they could reach the protection of the boulders above. The +Gurkhas followed suit; but the Fore and Aft were killing on their own +account, for they had penned a mass of men between their bayonets and +a wall of rock, and the flash of the rifles was lighting the wadded +coats.</p> + +<p>'We cannot hold them, Captain Sahib!' panted a Ressaidar of Lancers. +'Let us try the carbine. The lance is good, but it wastes time.'</p> + +<p>They tried the carbine, and still the enemy melted away—fled up the +hills by hundreds when there were only twenty bullets to stop them. On +the heights the screw-guns ceased firing—they had run out of +ammunition—and the Brigadier groaned, for the musketry fire could not +sufficiently smash the retreat. Long before the last volleys were +fired, the doolies were out in force looking for the wounded. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>The +battle was over, and, but for want of fresh troops, the Afghans would +have been wiped off the earth. As it was they counted their dead by +hundreds, and nowhere were the dead thicker than in the track of the +Fore and Aft.</p> + +<p>But the Regiment did not cheer with the Highlanders, nor did they +dance uncouth dances with the Gurkhas among the dead. They looked +under their brows at the Colonel as they leaned upon their rifles and +panted.</p> + +<p>'Get back to camp, you. Haven't you disgraced yourself enough for one +day! Go and look to the wounded. It's all you're fit for,' said the +Colonel. Yet for the past hour the Fore and Aft had been doing all +that mortal commander could expect. They had lost heavily because they +did not know how to set about their business with proper skill, but +they had borne themselves gallantly, and this was their reward.</p> + +<p>A young and sprightly Colour-Sergeant, who had begun to imagine +himself a hero, offered his water-bottle to a Highlander, whose tongue +was black with thirst. 'I drink with no cowards,' answered the +youngster huskily, and, turning to a Gurkha, said, 'Hya, Johnny! Drink +water got it?' The Gurkha grinned and passed his bottle. The Fore and +Aft said no word.</p> + +<p>They went back to camp when the field of strife had been a little +mopped up and made presentable, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>and the Brigadier, who saw himself a +Knight in three months, was the only soul who was complimentary to +them. The Colonel was heart-broken, and the officers were savage and +sullen.</p> + +<p>'Well,' said the Brigadier, 'they are young troops of course, and it +was not unnatural that they should retire in disorder for a bit.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, my only Aunt Maria!' murmured a junior Staff Officer. 'Retire in +disorder! It was a bally run!'</p> + +<p>'But they came again, as we all know,' cooed the Brigadier, the +Colonel's ashy-white face before him, 'and they behaved as well as +could possibly be expected. Behaved beautifully, indeed. I was +watching them. It's not a matter to take to heart, Colonel. As some +German General said of his men, they wanted to be shooted over a +little, that was all.' To himself he said—'Now they're blooded I can +give 'em responsible work. It's as well that they got what they did. +'Teach 'em more than half-a-dozen rifle flirtations, that +will—later—run alone and bite. Poor old Colonel, though.'</p> + +<p>All that afternoon the heliograph winked and flickered on the hills, +striving to tell the good news to a mountain forty miles away. And in +the evening there arrived, dusty, sweating, and sore, a misguided +Correspondent, who had gone out to assist at a trumpery +village-burning, and who had read off the message from afar, cursing +his luck the while.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>'Let's have the details somehow—as full as ever you can, please. It's +the first time I've ever been left this campaign,' said the +Correspondent to the Brigadier; and the Brigadier, nothing loath, told +him how an Army of Communication had been crumpled up, destroyed, and +all but annihilated, by the craft, strategy, wisdom, and foresight of +the Brigadier.</p> + +<p>But some say, and among these be the Gurkhas who watched on the +hillside, that that battle was won by Jakin and Lew, whose little +bodies were borne up just in time to fit two gaps at the head of the +big ditch-grave for the dead under the heights of Jagai.</p> + +<br /> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep077.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep077.jpg" width="25%" alt="end of chapter illustration" /></a> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="THE_MAN_WHO_WAS" id="THE_MAN_WHO_WAS"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span><br /> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep078.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep078.jpg" width="65%" alt="THE MAN WHO WAS" /></a> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>THE MAN WHO WAS<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Earth gave up her dead that tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into our camp he came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And said his say, and went his way,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And left our hearts aflame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Keep tally—on the gun-butt score<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The vengeance we must take,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When God shall bring full reckoning,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For our dead comrade's sake.<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Ballad.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<br /> + +<p>Let it be clearly understood that the Russian is a delightful person +till he tucks in his shirt. As an Oriental he is charming. It is only +when he insists upon being treated as the most easterly of western +peoples instead of the most westerly of easterns that he becomes a +racial anomaly extremely difficult to handle. The host never knows +which side of his nature is going to turn up next.</p> + +<p>Dirkovitch was a Russian—a Russian of the Russians—who appeared to +get his bread by serving the Czar as an officer in a Cossack regiment, +and corresponding for a Russian newspaper with a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>name that was never +twice alike. He was a handsome young Oriental, fond of wandering +through unexplored portions of the earth, and he arrived in India from +nowhere in particular. At least no living man could ascertain whether +it was by way of Balkh, Badakshan, Chitral, Beluchistan, or Nepaul, or +anywhere else. The Indian Government, being in an unusually affable +mood, gave orders that he was to be civilly treated and shown +everything that was to be seen. So he drifted, talking bad English and +worse French, from one city to another, till he foregathered with Her +Majesty's White Hussars in the city of Peshawur, which stands at the +mouth of that narrow swordcut in the hills that men call the Khyber +Pass. He was undoubtedly an officer, and he was decorated after the +manner of the Russians with little enamelled crosses, and he could +talk, and (though this has nothing to do with his merits) he had been +given up as a hopeless task, or cask, by the Black Tyrone, who +individually and collectively, with hot whisky and honey, mulled +brandy, and mixed spirits of every kind, had striven in all +hospitality to make him drunk. And when the Black Tyrone, who are +exclusively Irish, fail to disturb the peace of head of a +foreigner—that foreigner is certain to be a superior man.</p> + +<p>The White Hussars were as conscientious in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>choosing their wine as in +charging the enemy. All that they possessed, including some wondrous +brandy, was placed at the absolute disposition of Dirkovitch, and he +enjoyed himself hugely—even more than among the Black Tyrones.</p> + +<p>But he remained distressingly European through it all. The White +Hussars were 'My dear true friends,' 'Fellow-soldiers glorious,' and +'Brothers inseparable.' He would unburden himself by the hour on the +glorious future that awaited the combined arms of England and Russia +when their hearts and their territories should run side by side and +the great mission of civilising Asia should begin. That was +unsatisfactory, because Asia is not going to be civilised after the +methods of the West. There is too much Asia and she is too old. You +cannot reform a lady of many lovers, and Asia has been insatiable in +her flirtations aforetime. She will never attend Sunday school or +learn to vote save with swords for tickets.</p> + +<p>Dirkovitch knew this as well as any one else, but it suited him to +talk special-correspondently and to make himself as genial as he +could. Now and then he volunteered a little, a very little, +information about his own sotnia of Cossacks, left apparently to look +after themselves somewhere at the back of beyond. He had done rough +work in Central Asia, and had seen rather more <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>help-your-self +fighting than most men of his years. But he was careful never to +betray his superiority, and more than careful to praise on all +occasions the appearance, drill, uniform, and organisation of Her +Majesty's White Hussars. And indeed they were a regiment to be +admired. When Lady Durgan, widow of the late Sir John Durgan, arrived +in their station, and after a short time had been proposed to by every +single man at mess, she put the public sentiment very neatly when she +explained that they were all so nice that unless she could marry them +all, including the Colonel and some majors already married, she was +not going to content herself with one hussar. Wherefore she wedded a +little man in a rifle regiment, being by nature contradictious; and +the White Hussars were going to wear crape on their arms, but +compromised by attending the wedding in full force, and lining the +aisle with unutterable reproach. She had jilted them all—from +Basset-Holmer the senior captain to little Mildred the junior +subaltern, who could have given her four thousand a year and a title.</p> + +<p>The only person who did not share the general regard for the White +Hussars were a few thousand gentlemen of Jewish extraction who lived +across the border, and answered to the name of Paythan. They had once +met the regiment officially and for something less than twenty +minutes, but the interview, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>which was complicated with many +casualties, had filled them with prejudice. They even called the White +Hussars children of the devil and sons of persons whom it would be +perfectly impossible to meet in decent society. Yet they were not +above making their aversion fill their money-belts. The regiment +possessed carbines—beautiful Martini-Henri carbines that would lop a +bullet into an enemy's camp at one thousand yards, and were even +handier than the long rifle. Therefore they were coveted all along the +border, and since demand inevitably breeds supply, they were supplied +at the risk of life and limb for exactly their weight in coined +silver—seven and one-half pounds weight of rupees, or sixteen pounds +sterling reckoning the rupee at par. They were stolen at night by +snaky-haired thieves who crawled on their stomachs under the nose of +the sentries; they disappeared mysteriously from locked arm-racks, and +in the hot weather when all the barrack doors and windows were open, +they vanished like puffs of their own smoke. The border people desired +them for family vendettas and contingencies. But in the long cold +nights of the northern Indian winter they were stolen most +extensively. The traffic of murder was liveliest among the hills at +that season, and prices ruled high. The regimental guards were first +doubled and then trebled. A trooper does not much care if he loses a +weapon—Government <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>must make it good—but he deeply resents the loss +of his sleep. The regiment grew very angry, and one rifle-thief bears +the visible marks of their anger upon him to this hour. That incident +stopped the burglaries for a time, and the guards were reduced +accordingly, and the regiment devoted itself to polo with unexpected +results; for it beat by two goals to one that very terrible polo corps +the Lushkar Light Horse, though the latter had four ponies apiece for +a short hour's fight, as well as a native officer who played like a +lambent flame across the ground.</p> + +<p>They gave a dinner to celebrate the event. The Lushkar team came, and +Dirkovitch came, in the fullest full uniform of a Cossack officer, +which is as full as a dressing-gown, and was introduced to the +Lushkars, and opened his eyes as he regarded. They were lighter men +than the Hussars, and they carried themselves with the swing that is +the peculiar right of the Punjab Frontier Force and all Irregular +Horse. Like everything else in the Service it has to be learnt, but, +unlike many things, it is never forgotten, and remains on the body +till death.</p> + +<p>The great beam-roofed mess-room of the White Hussars was a sight to be +remembered. All the mess plate was out on the long table—the same +table that had served up the bodies of five officers after a forgotten +fight long and long ago—the dingy, battered standards faced the door +of entrance, clumps <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>of winter-roses lay between the silver +candlesticks, and the portraits of eminent officers deceased looked +down on their successors from between the heads of sambhur, nilghai, +markhor, and, pride of all the mess, two grinning snow-leopards that +had cost Basset-Holmer four months' leave that he might have spent in +England, instead of on the road to Thibet and the daily risk of his +life by ledge, snow-slide, and grassy slope.</p> + +<p>The servants in spotless white muslin and the crest of their regiments +on the brow of their turbans waited behind their masters, who were +clad in the scarlet and gold of the White Hussars, and the cream and +silver of the Lushkar Light Horse. Dirkovitch's dull green uniform was +the only dark spot at the board, but his big onyx eyes made up for it. +He was fraternising effusively with the Captain of the Lushkar team, +who was wondering how many of Dirkovitch's Cossacks his own dark wiry +down-country-men could account for in a fair charge. But one does not +speak of these things openly.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep085" id="imagep085"></a> +<a href="images/imagep085.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep085.jpg" width="50%" alt="Rung ho, Hira Singh!" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">'<i>Rung ho</i>, Hira Singh!'—<span class="fakesc">P. 85.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>The talk rose higher and higher, and the regimental band played +between the courses, as is the immemorial custom, till all tongues +ceased for a moment with the removal of the dinner-slips and the first +toast of obligation, when an officer rising said, 'Mr. Vice, the +Queen,' and little Mildred from the bottom of the table answered, 'The +Queen, God <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>bless her,' and the big spurs clanked as the big men +heaved themselves up and drank the Queen upon whose pay they were +falsely supposed to settle their mess-bills. That Sacrament of the +Mess never grows old, and never ceases to bring a lump into the throat +of the listener wherever he be by sea or by land. Dirkovitch rose with +his 'brothers glorious,' but he could not understand. No one but an +officer can tell what the toast means; and the bulk have more +sentiment than comprehension. Immediately after the little silence +that follows on the ceremony there entered the native officer who had +played for the Lushkar team. He could not, of course, eat with the +mess, but he came in at dessert, all six feet of him, with the blue +and silver turban atop, and the big black boots below. The mess rose +joyously as he thrust forward the hilt of his sabre in token of fealty +for the Colonel of the White Hussars to touch, and dropped in a vacant +chair amid shouts of: '<i>Rung ho</i>, Hira Singh' (which being translated +means 'Go in and win'). 'Did I whack you over the knee, old man?' +'Ressaidar Sahib, what the devil made you play that kicking pig of a +pony in the last ten minutes?' '<i>Shabash</i>, Ressaidar Sahib!' Then the +voice of the Colonel, 'The health of Ressaidar Hira Singh!'</p> + +<p>After the shouting had died away Hira Singh rose to reply, for he was +the cadet of a royal house, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>the son of a king's son, and knew what +was due on these occasions. Thus he spoke in the vernacular:—'Colonel +Sahib and officers of this regiment. Much honour have you done me. +This will I remember. We came down from afar to play you. But we were +beaten' ('No fault of yours, Ressaidar Sahib. Played on our own ground +y' know. Your ponies were cramped from the railway. Don't apologise!') +'Therefore perhaps we will come again if it be so ordained.' ('Hear! +Hear! Hear, indeed! Bravo! Hsh!') 'Then we will play you afresh' +('Happy to meet you.') 'till there are left no feet upon our ponies. +Thus far for sport.' He dropped one hand on his sword-hilt and his eye +wandered to Dirkovitch lolling back in his chair. 'But if by the will +of God there arises any other game which is not the polo game, then be +assured, Colonel Sahib and officers, that we will play it out side by +side, though <i>they</i>,' again his eye sought Dirkovitch, 'though <i>they</i> +I say have fifty ponies to our one horse.' And with a deep-mouthed +<i>Rung ho!</i> that sounded like a musket-butt on flagstones he sat down +amid leaping glasses.</p> + +<p>Dirkovitch, who had devoted himself steadily to the brandy,—the +terrible brandy aforementioned,—did not understand, nor did the +expurgated translations offered to him at all convey the point. +Decidedly Hira Singh's was the speech of the evening, and the clamour +might have continued to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>the dawn had it not been broken by the noise +of a shot without that sent every man feeling at his defenceless left +side. Then there was a scuffle and a yell of pain.</p> + +<p>'Carbine-stealing again!' said the Adjutant, calmly sinking back in +his chair. 'This comes of reducing the guards. I hope the sentries +have killed him.'</p> + +<p>The feet of armed men pounded on the veranda flags, and it was as +though something was being dragged.</p> + +<p>'Why don't they put him in the cells till the morning?' said the +Colonel testily. 'See if they've damaged him, Sergeant.'</p> + +<p>The mess-sergeant fled out into the darkness and returned with two +troopers and a Corporal, all very much perplexed.</p> + +<p>'Caught a man stealin' carbines, Sir,' said the Corporal. 'Leastways +'e was crawlin' towards the barricks, Sir, past the main road +sentries, an' the sentry 'e sez, Sir——'</p> + +<p>The limp heap of rags upheld by the three men groaned. Never was seen +so destitute and demoralised an Afghan. He was turbanless, shoeless, +caked with dirt, and all but dead with rough handling. Hira Singh +started slightly at the sound of the man's pain. Dirkovitch took +another glass of brandy.</p> + +<p>'<i>What</i> does the sentry say?' said the Colonel.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>'Sez 'e speaks English, Sir,' said the Corporal.</p> + +<p>'So you brought him into mess instead of handing him over to the +sergeant! If he spoke all the Tongues of the Pentecost you've no +business——'</p> + +<p>Again the bundle groaned and muttered. Little Mildred had risen from +his place to inspect. He jumped back as though he had been shot.</p> + +<p>'Perhaps it would be better, Sir, to send the men away,' said he to +the Colonel, for he was a much privileged subaltern. He put his arms +round the rag-bound horror as he spoke, and dropped him into a chair. +It may not have been explained that the littleness of Mildred lay in +his being six feet four and big in proportion. The Corporal, seeing +that an officer was disposed to look after the capture, and that the +Colonel's eye was beginning to blaze, promptly removed himself and his +men. The mess was left alone with the carbine-thief, who laid his head +on the table and wept bitterly, hopelessly, and inconsolably, as +little children weep.</p> + +<p>Hira Singh leapt to his feet. 'Colonel Sahib,' said he, 'that man is +no Afghan, for they weep <i>Ai! Ai!</i> Nor is he of Hindustan, for they +weep <i>Oh! Ho!</i> He weeps after the fashion of the white men, who say +<i>Ow! Ow!</i>'</p> + +<p>'Now where the dickens did you get that knowledge, Hira Singh?' said +the Captain of the Lushkar team.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>'Hear him!' said Hira Singh simply, pointing at the crumpled figure +that wept as though it would never cease.</p> + +<p>'He said, "My God!"' said little Mildred. 'I heard him say it.'</p> + +<p>The Colonel and the mess-room looked at the man in silence. It is a +horrible thing to hear a man cry. A woman can sob from the top of her +palate, or her lips, or anywhere else, but a man must cry from his +diaphragm, and it rends him to pieces.</p> + +<p>'Poor devil!' said the Colonel, coughing tremendously. 'We ought to +send him to hospital. He's been man-handled.'</p> + +<p>Now the Adjutant loved his carbines. They were to him as his +grandchildren, the men standing in the first place. He grunted +rebelliously: 'I can understand an Afghan stealing, because he's built +that way. But I can't understand his crying. That makes it worse.'</p> + +<p>The brandy must have affected Dirkovitch, for he lay back in his chair +and stared at the ceiling. There was nothing special in the ceiling +beyond a shadow as of a huge black coffin. Owing to some peculiarity +in the construction of the mess-room this shadow was always thrown +when the candles were lighted. It never disturbed the digestion of the +White Hussars. They were in fact rather proud of it.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>'Is he going to cry all night?' said the Colonel, 'or are we supposed +to sit up with little Mildred's guest until he feels better?'</p> + +<p>The man in the chair threw up his head and stared at the mess. 'Oh, my +God!' he said, and every soul in the mess rose to his feet. Then the +Lushkar Captain did a deed for which he ought to have been given the +Victoria Cross—distinguished gallantry in a fight against +overwhelming curiosity. He picked up his team with his eyes as the +hostess picks up the ladies at the opportune moment, and pausing only +by the Colonel's chair to say, 'This isn't <i>our</i> affair, you know, +Sir,' led them into the veranda and the gardens. Hira Singh was the +last to go, and he looked at Dirkovitch. But Dirkovitch had departed +into a brandy-paradise of his own. His lips moved without sound and he +was studying the coffin on the ceiling.</p> + +<p>'White—white all over,' said Basset-Holmer, the Adjutant. 'What a +pernicious renegade he must be! I wonder where he came from?'</p> + +<p>The Colonel shook the man gently by the arm, and 'Who are you?' said +he.</p> + +<p>There was no answer. The man stared round the mess-room and smiled in +the Colonel's face. Little Mildred, who was always more of a woman +than a man till 'Boot and saddle' was sounded, repeated the question +in a voice that would have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>drawn confidences from a geyser. The man +only smiled. Dirkovitch at the far end of the table slid gently from +his chair to the floor. No son of Adam in this present imperfect world +can mix the Hussars' champagne with the Hussars' brandy by five and +eight glasses of each without remembering the pit whence he was digged +and descending thither. The band began to play the tune with which the +White Hussars from the date of their formation have concluded all +their functions. They would sooner be disbanded than abandon that +tune; it is a part of their system. The man straightened himself in +his chair and drummed on the table with his fingers.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep091" id="imagep091"></a> +<a href="images/imagep091.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep091.jpg" width="50%" alt="He found the spring." /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">He found the spring.—<span class="fakesc">P. 91.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'I don't see why we should entertain lunatics,' said the Colonel. +'Call a guard and send him off to the cells. We'll look into the +business in the morning. Give him a glass of wine first though.'</p> + +<p>Little Mildred filled a sherry-glass with the brandy and thrust it +over to the man. He drank, and the tune rose louder, and he +straightened himself yet more. Then he put out his long-taloned hands +to a piece of plate opposite and fingered it lovingly. There was a +mystery connected with that piece of plate, in the shape of a spring +which converted what was a seven-branched candlestick, three springs +on each side and one in the middle, into a sort of wheel-spoke +candelabrum. He found the spring, pressed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>it, and laughed weakly. He +rose from his chair and inspected a picture on the wall, then moved on +to another picture, the mess watching him without a word. When he came +to the mantelpiece he shook his head and seemed distressed. A piece of +plate representing a mounted hussar in full uniform caught his eye. He +pointed to it, and then to the mantelpiece with inquiry in his eyes.</p> + +<p>'What is it—oh what is it?' said little Mildred. Then as a mother +might speak to a child, 'That is a horse. Yes, a horse.'</p> + +<p>Very slowly came the answer in a thick, passionless guttural—'Yes, +I—have seen. But—where is <i>the</i> horse?'</p> + +<p>You could have heard the hearts of the mess beating as the men drew +back to give the stranger full room in his wanderings. There was no +question of calling the guard.</p> + +<p>Again he spoke—very slowly, 'Where is <i>our</i> horse?'</p> + +<p>There is but one horse in the White Hussars, and his portrait hangs +outside the door of the mess-room. He is the piebald drum-horse, the +king of the regimental band, that served the regiment for +seven-and-thirty years, and in the end was shot for old age. Half the +mess tore the thing down from its place and thrust it into the man's +hands. He placed it above the mantelpiece, it clattered on the ledge +as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>his poor hands dropped it, and he staggered towards the bottom of +the table, falling into Mildred's chair. Then all the men spoke to one +another something after this fashion, 'The drum-horse hasn't hung over +the mantelpiece since '67.' 'How does he know?' 'Mildred, go and speak +to him again.' 'Colonel, what are you going to do?' 'Oh, dry up, and +give the poor devil a chance to pull himself together.' 'It isn't +possible anyhow. The man's a lunatic.'</p> + +<p>Little Mildred stood at the Colonel's side talking in his ear. 'Will +you be good enough to take your seats, please, gentlemen!' he said, +and the mess dropped into the chairs. Only Dirkovitch's seat, next to +little Mildred's, was blank, and little Mildred himself had found Hira +Singh's place. The wide-eyed mess-sergeant filled the glasses in dead +silence. Once more the Colonel rose, but his hand shook, and the port +spilled on the table as he looked straight at the man in little +Mildred's chair and said hoarsely, 'Mr. Vice, the Queen.' There was a +little pause, but the man sprung to his feet and answered without +hesitation, 'The Queen, God bless her!' and as he emptied the thin +glass he snapped the shank between his fingers.</p> + +<p>Long and long ago, when the Empress of India was a young woman and +there were no unclean ideals in the land, it was the custom of a few +messes to drink the Queen's toast in broken glass, to the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>vast +delight of the mess-contractors. The custom is now dead, because there +is nothing to break anything for, except now and again the word of a +Government, and that has been broken already.</p> + +<p>'That settles it,' said the Colonel, with a gasp. 'He's not a +sergeant. What in the world is he?'</p> + +<p>The entire mess echoed the word, and the volley of questions would +have scared any man. It was no wonder that the ragged, filthy invader +could only smile and shake his head.</p> + +<p>From under the table, calm and smiling, rose Dirkovitch, who had been +roused from healthful slumber by feet upon his body. By the side of +the man he rose, and the man shrieked and grovelled. It was a horrible +sight coming so swiftly upon the pride and glory of the toast that had +brought the strayed wits together.</p> + +<p>Dirkovitch made no offer to raise him, but little Mildred heaved him +up in an instant. It is not good that a gentleman who can answer to +the Queen's toast should lie at the feet of a subaltern of Cossacks.</p> + +<p>The hasty action tore the wretch's upper clothing nearly to the waist, +and his body was seamed with dry black scars. There is only one weapon +in the world that cuts in parallel lines, and it is neither the cane +nor the cat. Dirkovitch saw the marks, and the pupils of his eyes +dilated. Also his face <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>changed. He said something that sounded like +<i>Shto ve takete</i>, and the man fawning answered, <i>Chetyre</i>.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep094" id="imagep094"></a> +<a href="images/imagep094.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep094.jpg" width="50%" alt="It is not good..." /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; margin-top: .2em;">It is not good that a gentleman who can answer to the Queen's toast +should lie at the feet of a subaltern of Cossacks.—<span class="fakesc">P. 94.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'What's that?' said everybody together.</p> + +<p>'His number. That is number four, you know,' Dirkovitch spoke very +thickly.</p> + +<p>'What has a Queen's officer to do with a qualified number?' said the +Colonel, and an unpleasant growl ran round the table.</p> + +<p>'How can I tell?' said the affable Oriental with a sweet smile. 'He is +a—how you have it?—escape—run-a-way, from over there.' He nodded +towards the darkness of the night.</p> + +<p>'Speak to him if he'll answer you, and speak to him gently,' said +little Mildred, settling the man in a chair. It seemed most improper +to all present that Dirkovitch should sip brandy as he talked in +purring, spitting Russian to the creature who answered so feebly and +with such evident dread. But since Dirkovitch appeared to understand +no one said a word. All breathed heavily, leaning forward, in the long +gaps of the conversation. The next time that they have no engagements +on hand the White Hussars intend to go to St. Petersburg in a body to +learn Russian.</p> + +<p>'He does not know how many years ago,' said Dirkovitch facing the +mess, 'but he says it was very long ago in the war. I think that there +was an <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>accident. He says he was of this glorious and distinguished +regiment in the war.'</p> + +<p>'The rolls! The rolls! Holmer, get the rolls!' said little Mildred, +and the Adjutant dashed off bareheaded to the orderly-room, where the +muster-rolls of the regiment were kept. He returned just in time to +hear Dirkovitch conclude, 'Therefore, my dear friends, I am most sorry +to say there was an accident which would have been reparable if he had +apologised to that our colonel, which he had insulted.'</p> + +<p>Then followed another growl which the Colonel tried to beat down. The +mess was in no mood just then to weigh insults to Russian colonels.</p> + +<p>'He does not remember, but I think that there was an accident, and so +he was not exchanged among the prisoners, but he was sent to another +place—how do you say?—the country. <i>So</i>, he says, he came here. He +does not know how he came. Eh? He was at Chepany'—the man caught the +word, nodded, and shivered—'at Zhigansk and Irkutsk. I cannot +understand how he escaped. He says, too, that he was in the forests +for many years, but how many years he has forgotten—that with many +things. It was an accident; done because he did not apologise to that +our colonel. Ah!'</p> + +<p>Instead of echoing Dirkovitch's sigh of regret, it is sad to record +that the White Hussars livelily exhibited un-Christian delight and +other emotions, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>hardly restrained by their sense of hospitality. +Holmer flung the frayed and yellow regimental rolls on the table, and +the men flung themselves at these.</p> + +<p>'Steady! Fifty-six—fifty-five—fifty-four,' said Holmer. 'Here we +are. "Lieutenant Austin Limmason. <i>Missing.</i>" That was before +Sebastopol. What an infernal shame! Insulted one of their colonels, +and was quietly shipped off. Thirty years of his life wiped out.'</p> + +<p>'But he never apologised. Said he'd see him damned first,' chorussed +the mess.</p> + +<p>'Poor chap! I suppose he never had the chance afterwards. How did he +come here?' said the Colonel.</p> + +<p>The dingy heap in the chair could give no answer.</p> + +<p>'Do you know who you are?'</p> + +<p>It laughed weakly.</p> + +<p>'Do you know that you are Limmason—Lieutenant Limmason of the White +Hussars?'</p> + +<p>Swiftly as a shot came the answer, in a slightly surprised tone, 'Yes, +I'm Limmason, of course.' The light died out in his eyes, and the man +collapsed, watching every motion of Dirkovitch with terror. A flight +from Siberia may fix a few elementary facts in the mind, but it does +not seem to lead to continuity of thought. The man could not explain +how, like a homing pigeon, he had found his way to his own old mess +again. Of what he had suffered or seen he knew nothing. He cringed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>before Dirkovitch as instinctively as he had pressed the spring of the +candlestick, sought the picture of the drum-horse, and answered to the +toast of the Queen. The rest was a blank that the dreaded Russian +tongue could only in part remove. His head bowed on his breast, and he +giggled and cowered alternately.</p> + +<p>The devil that lived in the brandy prompted Dirkovitch at this +extremely inopportune moment to make a speech. He rose, swaying +slightly, gripped the table-edge, while his eyes glowed like opals, +and began:—</p> + +<p>'Fellow-soldiers glorious—true friends and hospitables. It was an +accident, and deplorable—most deplorable.' Here he smiled sweetly all +round the mess. 'But you will think of this little, little thing. So +little, is it not? The Czar! Posh! I slap my fingers—I snap my +fingers at him. Do I believe in him? No! But in us Slav who has done +nothing, <i>him</i> I believe. Seventy—how much—millions peoples that +have done nothing—not one thing. Posh! Napoleon was an episode.' He +banged a hand on the table. 'Hear you, old peoples, we have done +nothing in the world—out here. All our work is to do; and it shall be +done, old peoples. Get a-way!' He waved his hand imperiously, and +pointed to the man. 'You see him. He is no good to see. He was just +one little—oh, so little—accident, that no <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>one remembered. Now he +is <i>That</i>! So will you be, brother soldiers so brave—so will you be. +But you will never come back. You will all go where he is gone, +or'—he pointed to the great coffin-shadow on the ceiling, and +muttering, 'Seventy millions—get a-way, you old peoples,' fell +asleep.</p> + +<p>'Sweet, and to the point,' said little Mildred. 'What's the use of +getting wroth? Let's make this poor devil comfortable.'</p> + +<p>But that was a matter suddenly and swiftly taken from the loving hands +of the White Hussars. The lieutenant had returned only to go away +again three days later, when the wail of the Dead March, and the tramp +of the squadrons, told the wondering Station, who saw no gap in the +mess-table, that an officer of the regiment had resigned his new-found +commission.</p> + +<p>And Dirkovitch, bland, supple, and always genial, went away too, by a +night train. Little Mildred and another man saw him off, for he was +the guest of the mess, and even had he smitten the Colonel with the +open hand, the law of that mess allowed no relaxation of hospitality.</p> + +<p>'Good-bye, Dirkovitch, and a pleasant journey,' said little Mildred.</p> + +<p>'<i>Au revoir</i>,' said the Russian.</p> + +<p>'Indeed! But we thought you were going home?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, but I will come again. My dear friends, is <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>that road shut?' He +pointed to where the North Star burned over the Khyber Pass.</p> + +<p>'By Jove! I forgot. Of course. Happy to meet you, old man, any time +you like. Got everything you want? Cheroots, ice, bedding? That's all +right. Well, <i>au revoir</i>, Dirkovitch.'</p> + +<p>'Um,' said the other man, as the tail-lights of the train grew small. +'Of—all—the—unmitigated——!'</p> + +<p>Little Mildred answered nothing, but watched the North Star and hummed +a selection from a recent Simla burlesque that had much delighted the +White Hussars. It ran:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'm sorry for Mister Bluebeard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm sorry to cause him pain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a terrible spree there's sure to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he comes back again.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<br /> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep100.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep100.jpg" width="45%" alt="End of chapter illustration" /></a> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="DINAH_SHADD" id="DINAH_SHADD"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span><br /> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep101.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep101.jpg" width="65%" alt="THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD" /></a> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<h3>THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What did the colonel's lady think<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nobody never knew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Somebody asked the sergeant's wife<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' she told 'em, true.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When you git to a man in the case<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They're like a row o' pins,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the colonel's lady an' Judy O'Grady<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are sisters under their skins.<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Barrack Room Ballad.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<br /> + +<p>All day I had followed at the heels of a pursuing army engaged on one +of the finest battles that ever camp of exercise beheld. Thirty +thousand troops had by the wisdom of the Government of India been +turned loose over a few thousand square miles of country to practise in +peace what they would never attempt in war. Consequently cavalry +charged unshaken infantry at the trot. Infantry captured artillery by +frontal attacks delivered in line of quarter columns, and mounted +infantry skirmished up to the wheels of an armoured train which +carried <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>nothing more deadly than a twenty-five pounder Armstrong, two +Nordenfeldts, and a few score volunteers all cased in three-eighths-inch +boiler-plate. Yet it was a very lifelike camp. Operations did not +cease at sundown; nobody knew the country and nobody spared man or +horse. There was unending cavalry scouting and almost unending forced +work over broken ground. The Army of the South had finally pierced the +centre of the Army of the North, and was pouring through the gap +hot-foot to capture a city of strategic importance. Its front extended +fanwise, the sticks being represented by regiments strung out along +the line of route backwards to the divisional transport columns and +all the lumber that trails behind an army on the move. On its right +the broken left of the Army of the North was flying in mass, chased by +the Southern horse and hammered by the Southern guns till these had +been pushed far beyond the limits of their last support. Then the +flying sat down to rest, while the elated commandant of the pursuing +force telegraphed that he held all in check and observation.</p> + +<p>Unluckily he did not observe that three miles to his right flank a +flying column of Northern horse with a detachment of Gurkhas and +British troops had been pushed round, as fast as the failing light +allowed, to cut across the entire rear of the Southern Army, to break, +as it were, all the ribs of the fan <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>where they converged by striking +at the transport, reserve ammunition, and artillery supplies. Their +instructions were to go in, avoiding the few scouts who might not have +been drawn off by the pursuit, and create sufficient excitement to +impress the Southern Army with the wisdom of guarding their own flank +and rear before they captured cities. It was a pretty manœuvre, +neatly carried out.</p> + +<p>Speaking for the second division of the Southern Army, our first +intimation of the attack was at twilight, when the artillery were +labouring in deep sand, most of the escort were trying to help them +out, and the main body of the infantry had gone on. A Noah's Ark of +elephants, camels, and the mixed menagerie of an Indian transport +train bubbled and squealed behind the guns, when there appeared from +nowhere in particular British infantry to the extent of three +companies, who sprang to the heads of the gun-horses and brought all +to a standstill amid oaths and cheers.</p> + +<p>'How's that, umpire?' said the Major commanding the attack, and with +one voice the drivers and limber gunners answered 'Hout!' while the +Colonel of Artillery sputtered.</p> + +<p>'All your scouts are charging our main body,' said the Major. 'Your +flanks are unprotected for two miles. I think we've broken the back of +this division. And listen,—there go the Gurkhas!'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>A weak fire broke from the rear-guard more than a mile away, and was +answered by cheerful howlings. The Gurkhas, who should have swung +clear of the second division, had stepped on its tail in the dark, but +drawing off hastened to reach the next line of attack, which lay +almost parallel to us five or six miles away.</p> + +<p>Our column swayed and surged irresolutely,—three batteries, the +divisional ammunition reserve, the baggage, and a section of the +hospital and bearer corps. The commandant ruefully promised to report +himself 'cut up' to the nearest umpire, and commending his cavalry and +all other cavalry to the special care of Eblis, toiled on to resume +touch with the rest of the division.</p> + +<p>'We'll bivouac here to-night,' said the Major; 'I have a notion that +the Gurkhas will get caught. They may want us to re-form on. Stand +easy till the transport gets away.'</p> + +<p>A hand caught my beast's bridle and led him out of the choking dust; a +larger hand deftly canted me out of the saddle; and two of the hugest +hands in the world received me sliding. Pleasant is the lot of the +special correspondent who falls into such hands as those of Privates +Mulvaney, Ortheris, and Learoyd.</p> + +<p>'An' that's all right,' said the Irishman calmly. 'We thought we'd +find you somewheres here by. Is there anything av yours in the +transport? Orth'ris'll fetch ut out.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>Ortheris did 'fetch ut out,' from under the trunk of an elephant, in +the shape of a servant and an animal, both laden with medical +comforts. The little man's eyes sparkled.</p> + +<p>'If the brutil an' licentious soldiery av these parts gets sight av +the thruck,' said Mulvaney, making practised investigation, 'they'll +loot ev'rything. They're bein' fed on iron-filin's an' dog-biscuit +these days, but glory's no compensation for a belly-ache. Praise be, +we're here to protect you, Sorr. Beer, sausage, bread (soft an' that's +a cur'osity), soup in a tin, whisky by the smell av ut, an' fowls! +Mother av Moses, but ye take the field like a confectioner! 'Tis +scand'lus.'</p> + +<p>''Ere's a orficer,' said Ortheris significantly. 'When the sergent's +done lushin' the privit may clean the pot.'</p> + +<p>I bundled several things into Mulvaney's haver-sack before the Major's +hand fell on my shoulder and he said tenderly, 'Requisitioned for the +Queen's service. Wolseley was quite wrong about special +correspondents: they are the soldier's best friends. Come and take +pot-luck with us to-night.'</p> + +<p>And so it happened amid laughter and shoutings that my well-considered +commissariat melted away to reappear later at the mess-table, which +was a waterproof sheet spread on the ground. The flying column had +taken three days' rations with it, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>and there be few things nastier +than government rations—especially when government is experimenting +with German toys. Erbswurst, tinned beef of surpassing tinniness, +compressed vegetables, and meat-biscuits may be nourishing, but what +Thomas Atkins needs is bulk in his inside. The Major, assisted by his +brother officers, purchased goats for the camp and so made the +experiment of no effect. Long before the fatigue-party sent to collect +brushwood had returned, the men were settled down by their valises, +kettles and pots had appeared from the surrounding country and were +dangling over fires as the kid and the compressed vegetable bubbled +together; there rose a cheerful clinking of mess-tins; outrageous +demands for 'a little more stuffin' with that there liver-wing'; and +gust on gust of chaff as pointed as a bayonet and as delicate as a +gun-butt.</p> + +<p>'The boys are in a good temper,' said the Major. 'They'll be singing +presently. Well, a night like this is enough to keep them happy.'</p> + +<p>Over our heads burned the wonderful Indian stars, which are not all +pricked in on one plane, but, preserving an orderly perspective, draw +the eye through the velvet darkness of the void up to the barred doors +of heaven itself. The earth was a gray shadow more unreal than the +sky. We could hear her breathing lightly in the pauses <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>between the +howling of the jackals, the movement of the wind in the tamarisks, and +the fitful mutter of musketry-fire leagues away to the left. A native +woman from some unseen hut began to sing, the mail-train thundered +past on its way to Delhi, and a roosting crow cawed drowsily. Then +there was a belt-loosening silence about the fires, and the even +breathing of the crowded earth took up the story.</p> + +<p>The men, full fed, turned to tobacco and song,—their officers with +them. The subaltern is happy who can win the approval of the musical +critics in his regiment, and is honoured among the more intricate +step-dancers. By him, as by him who plays cricket cleverly, Thomas +Atkins will stand in time of need, when he will let a better officer +go on alone. The ruined tombs of forgotten Mussulman saints heard the +ballad of <i>Agra Town</i>, <i>The Buffalo Battery</i>, <i>Marching to Kabul</i>, +<i>The long, long Indian Day</i>, <i>The Place where the Punkah-coolie died</i>, +and that crashing chorus which announces,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Youth's daring spirit, manhood's fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Firm hand and eagle eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must he acquire, who would aspire<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To see the gray boar die.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>To-day, of all those jovial thieves who appropriated my commissariat +and lay and laughed round that waterproof sheet, not one remains. They +went to camps that were not of exercise and battles <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>without empires. +Burmah, the Soudan, and the frontier,—fever and fight,—took them in +their time.</p> + +<p>I drifted across to the men's fires in search of Mulvaney, whom I +found strategically greasing his feet by the blaze. There is nothing +particularly lovely in the sight of a private thus engaged after a +long day's march, but when you reflect on the exact proportion of the +'might, majesty, dominion, and power' of the British Empire which +stands on those feet you take an interest in the proceedings.</p> + +<p>'There's a blister, bad luck to ut, on the heel,' said Mulvaney. 'I +can't touch ut. Prick ut out, little man.'</p> + +<p>Ortheris took out his housewife, eased the trouble with a needle, +stabbed Mulvaney in the calf with the same weapon, and was swiftly +kicked into the fire.</p> + +<p>'I've bruk the best av my toes over you, ye grinnin' child av +disruption,' said Mulvaney, sitting cross-legged and nursing his feet; +then seeing me, 'Oh, ut's you, Sorr! Be welkim, an' take that +maraudin' scutt's place. Jock, hold him down on the cindhers for a +bit.'</p> + +<p>But Ortheris escaped and went elsewhere, as I took possession of the +hollow he had scraped for himself and lined with his greatcoat. +Learoyd on the other side of the fire grinned affably and in a minute +fell fast asleep.</p> + +<p>'There's the height av politeness for you,' said <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>Mulvaney, lighting +his pipe with a flaming branch. 'But Jock's eaten half a box av your +sardines at wan gulp, an' I think the tin too. What's the best wid +you, Sorr, an' how did you happen to be on the losin' side this day +whin we captured you?'</p> + +<p>'The Army of the South is winning all along the line,' I said.</p> + +<p>'Then that line's the hangman's rope, savin' your presence. You'll +learn to-morrow how we rethreated to dhraw thim on before we made thim +trouble, an' that's what a woman does. By the same tokin, we'll be +attacked before the dawnin' an' ut would be betther not to slip your +boots. How do I know that? By the light av pure reason. Here are three +companies av us ever so far inside av the enemy's flank an' a crowd av +roarin', tarin', squealin' cavalry gone on just to turn out the whole +hornet's nest av them. Av course the enemy will pursue, by brigades +like as not, an' thin we'll have to run for ut. Mark my words. I am av +the opinion av Polonius whin he said, "Don't fight wid ivry scutt for +the pure joy av fightin', but if you do, knock the nose av him first +and frequint." We ought to ha' gone on an' helped the Gurkhas.'</p> + +<p>'But what do you know about Polonius?' I demanded. This was a new side +of Mulvaney's character.</p> + +<p>'All that Shakespeare iver wrote an' a dale more <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>that the gallery +shouted,' said the man of war, carefully lacing his boots. 'Did I not +tell you av Silver's Theatre in Dublin, whin I was younger than I am +now an' a patron av the drama? Ould Silver wud never pay actor-man or +woman their just dues, an' by consequince his comp'nies was +collapsible at the last minut. Thin the bhoys wud clamour to take a +part, an' oft as not ould Silver made them pay for the fun. Faith, +I've seen Hamlut played wid a new black eye an' the queen as full as a +cornucopia. I remimber wanst Hogin that 'listed in the Black Tyrone +an' was shot in South Africa, he sejuced ould Silver into givin' him +Hamlut's part instid av me that had a fine fancy for rhetoric in those +days. Av course I wint into the gallery an' began to fill the pit wid +other peoples' hats, an' I passed the time av day to Hogin walkin' +through Denmark like a hamstrung mule wid a pall on his back. +"Hamlut," sez I, "there's a hole in your heel. Pull up your +shtockin's, Hamlut," sez I. "Hamlut, Hamlut, for the love av decincy +dhrop that skull an' pull up your shtockin's." The whole house begun +to tell him that. He stopped his soliloquishms mid-between. "My +shtockin's may be comin' down or they may not," sez he, screwin' his +eye into the gallery, for well he knew who I was. "But afther this +performince is over me an' the Ghost'll trample the tripes out av you, +Terence, wid <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>your-ass's bray!" An' that's how I come to know about +Hamlut. Eyah! Those days, those days! Did you iver have onendin' +devilmint an' nothin' to pay for it in your life, Sorr?'</p> + +<p>'Never, without having to pay,' I said.</p> + +<p>'That's thrue! 'Tis mane whin you considher on ut; but ut's the same +wid horse or fut. A headache if you dhrink, an' a belly-ache if you +eat too much, an' a heart-ache to kape all down. Faith, the beast only +gets the colic, an' he's the lucky man.'</p> + +<p>He dropped his head and stared into the fire, fingering his moustache +the while. From the far side of the bivouac the voice of Corbet-Nolan, +senior subaltern of B company, uplifted itself in an ancient and much +appreciated song of sentiment, the men moaning melodiously behind him.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The north wind blew coldly, she drooped from that hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My own little Kathleen, my sweet little Kathleen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kathleen, my Kathleen, Kathleen O'Moore!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>With forty-five O's in the last word: even at that distance you might +have cut the soft South Irish accent with a shovel.</p> + +<p>'For all we take we must pay, but the price is cruel high,' murmured +Mulvaney when the chorus had ceased.</p> + +<p>'What's the trouble?' I said gently, for I knew that he was a man of +an inextinguishable sorrow.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>'Hear now,' said he. 'Ye know what I am now. <i>I</i> know what I mint to +be at the beginnin' av my service. I've tould you time an' again, an' +what I have not Dinah Shadd has. An' what am I? Oh, Mary Mother av +Hiven, an ould dhrunken, untrustable baste av a privit that has seen +the reg'ment change out from colonel to drummer-boy, not wanst or +twice, but scores av times! Ay, scores! An' me not so near gettin' +promotion as in the first! An' me livin' on an' kapin' clear av clink, +not by my own good conduck, but the kindness av some orf'cer-bhoy +young enough to be son to me! Do I not know ut? Can I not tell whin +I'm passed over at p'rade, tho' I'm rockin' full av liquor an' ready +to fall all in wan piece, such as even a suckin' child might see, +bekaze, "Oh, 'tis only ould Mulvaney!" An' whin I'm let off in +ord'ly-room through some thrick of the tongue an' a ready answer an' +the ould man's mercy, is ut smilin' I feel whin I fall away an' go +back to Dinah Shadd, thryin' to carry ut all off as a joke? Not I! +'Tis hell to me, dumb hell through ut all; an' next time whin the fit +comes I will be as bad again. Good cause the reg'ment has to know me +for the best soldier in ut. Better cause have I to know mesilf for the +worst man. I'm only fit to tache the new drafts what I'll niver learn +myself; an' I am sure, as tho' I heard ut, that the minut wan av these +pink-eyed recruities gets away <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>from my "Mind ye now," an' "Listen to +this, Jim, bhoy,"—sure I am that the sergint houlds me up to him for +a warnin'. So I tache, as they say at musketry-instruction, by direct +and ricochet fire. Lord be good to me, for I have stud some throuble!'</p> + +<p>'Lie down and go to sleep,' said I, not being able to comfort or +advise. 'You're the best man in the regiment, and, next to Ortheris, +the biggest fool. Lie down and wait till we're attacked. What force +will they turn out? Guns, think you?'</p> + +<p>'Try that wid your lorrds an' ladies, twistin' an' turnin' the talk, +tho' you mint ut well. Ye cud say nothin' to help me, an' yet ye niver +knew what cause I had to be what I am.'</p> + +<p>'Begin at the beginning and go on to the end,' I said royally. 'But +rake up the fire a bit first.'</p> + +<p>I passed Ortheris's bayonet for a poker.</p> + +<p>'That shows how little we know what we do,' said Mulvaney, putting it +aside. 'Fire takes all the heart out av the steel, an' the next time, +maybe, that our little man is fighting for his life his bradawl'll +break, an' so you'll ha' killed him, manin' no more than to kape +yourself warm. 'Tis a recruity's thrick that. Pass the clanin'-rod, +Sorr.'</p> + +<p>I snuggled down abashed; and after an interval the voice of Mulvaney +began.</p> + +<p>'Did I iver tell you how Dinah Shadd came to be wife av mine?'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>I dissembled a burning anxiety that I had felt for some months—ever +since Dinah Shadd, the strong, the patient, and the infinitely tender, +had of her own good love and free will washed a shirt for me, moving +in a barren land where washing was not.</p> + +<p>'I can't remember,' I said casually. 'Was it before or after you made +love to Annie Bragin, and got no satisfaction?'</p> + +<p>The story of Annie Bragin is written in another place. It is one of +the many less respectable episodes in Mulvaney's chequered career.</p> + +<p>'Before—before—long before, was that business av Annie Bragin an' +the corp'ril's ghost. Niver woman was the worse for me whin I had +married Dinah. There's a time for all things, an' I know how to kape +all things in place—barrin' the dhrink, that kapes me in my place wid +no hope av comin' to be aught else.'</p> + +<p>'Begin at the beginning,' I insisted. 'Mrs. Mulvaney told me that you +married her when you were quartered in Krab Bokhar barracks.'</p> + +<p>'An' the same is a cess-pit,' said Mulvaney piously. 'She spoke thrue, +did Dinah. 'Twas this way. Talkin' av that, have ye iver fallen in +love, Sorr?'</p> + +<p>I preserved the silence of the damned. Mulvaney continued:—</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>'Thin I will assume that ye have not. <i>I</i> did. In the days av my +youth, as I have more than wanst tould you, I was a man that filled +the eye an' delighted the sowl av women. Niver man was hated as I have +bin. Niver man was loved as I—no, not within half a day's march av +ut! For the first five years av my service, whin I was what I wud give +my sowl to be now, I tuk whatever was within my reach an' digested +ut—an' that's more than most men can say. Dhrink I tuk, an' ut did me +no harm. By the Hollow av Hiven, I cud play wid four women at wanst, +an' kape them from findin' out anythin' about the other three, an' +smile like a full-blown marigold through ut all. Dick Coulhan, av the +battery we'll have down on us to-night, could drive his team no better +than I mine, an' I hild the worser cattle! An' so I lived, an' so I +was happy till afther that business wid Annie Bragin—she that turned +me off as cool as a meat-safe, an' taught me where I stud in the mind +av an honest woman. 'Twas no sweet dose to swallow.</p> + +<p>'Afther that I sickened awhile an' tuk thought to my reg'mental work; +conceiting mesilf I wud study an' be a sargint, an' a major-gineral +twinty minutes afther that. But on top av my ambitiousness there was +an empty place in my sowl, an' me own opinion av mesilf cud not fill +ut. Sez I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>to mesilf, "Terence, you're a great man an' the best set-up +in the reg'mint. Go on an' get promotion." Sez mesilf to me, "What +for?" Sez I to mesilf, "For the glory av ut!" Sez mesilf to me, "Will +that fill these two strong arrums av yours, Terence?" "Go to the +devil," sez I to mesilf. "Go to the married lines," sez mesilf to me. +"'Tis the same thing," sez I to mesilf. "Av you're the same man, ut +is," said mesilf to me; an' wid that I considhered on ut a long while. +Did you iver feel that way, Sorr?'</p> + +<p>I snored gently, knowing that if Mulvaney were uninterrupted he would +go on. The clamour from the bivouac fires beat up to the stars, as the +rival singers of the companies were pitted against each other.</p> + +<p>'So I felt that way an' a bad time ut was. Wanst, bein' a fool, I wint +into the married lines more for the sake av spakin' to our ould +colour-sergint Shadd than for any thruck wid women-folk. I was a +corp'ril then—rejuced afterwards, but a corp'ril then. I've got a +photograft av mesilf to prove ut. "You'll take a cup av tay wid us?" +sez Shadd. "I will that," I sez, "tho' tay is not my divarsion."</p> + +<p>'"'Twud be better for you if ut were," sez ould Mother Shadd, an' she +had ought to know, for Shadd, in the ind av his service, dhrank +bung-full each night.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep117" id="imagep117"></a> +<a href="images/imagep117.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep117.jpg" width="50%" alt="...Dinah came in." /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">'Thin whin the kettle was to be filled, Dinah came +in—my Dinah.'—<span class="fakesc">P. 117.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>'Wid that I tuk off my gloves—there was pipe-clay in thim, so that +they stud alone—an' pulled up my chair, lookin' round at the china +ornaments, an' bits av things in the Shadds' quarters. They were +things that belonged to a man, an' no camp-kit, here to-day and +dishipated next. "You're comfortable in this place, Sergint," sez I. +"'Tis the wife that did ut, boy," sez he, pointin' the stem av his +pipe to ould Mother Shadd, an' she smacked the top av his bald head +apon the compliment. "That manes you want money," sez she.</p> + +<p>'An' thin—an' thin whin the kettle was to be filled, Dinah came +in—my Dinah—her sleeves rowled up to the elbow an' her hair in a +winkin' glory over her forehead, the big blue eyes beneath twinklin' +like stars on a frosty night, an' the tread av her two feet lighter +than waste-paper from the Colonel's basket in ord'ly-room whin ut's +emptied. Bein' but a shlip av a girl she went pink at seein' me, an' I +twisted me moustache an' looked at a picture forninst the wall. Niver +show a woman that ye care the snap av a finger for her, an' begad +she'll come bleatin' to your boot-heels!'</p> + +<p>'I suppose that's why you followed Annie Bragin till everybody in the +married quarters laughed at you,' said I, remembering that unhallowed +wooing and casting off the disguise of drowsiness.</p> + +<p>'I'm layin' down the gin'ral theory av the attack,' <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>said Mulvaney, +driving his boot into the dying fire. 'If you read the <i>Soldier's +Pocket-book</i>, which niver any soldier reads, you'll see that there are +exceptions. Whin Dinah was out av the door (an' 'twas as tho' the +sunlight had shut too)—"Mother av Hiven, Sergint," sez I, "but is +that your daughter?"—"I've believed that way these eighteen years," +sez ould Shadd, his eyes twinklin'; "but Mrs. Shadd has her own +opinion, like iv'ry woman."—"'Tis wid yours this time, for a +mericle," sez Mother Shadd. "Thin why in the name av fortune did I +niver see her before?" sez I. "Bekaze you've been thrapesin' round wid +the married women these three years past. She was a bit av a child +till last year, an' she shot up wid the spring," sez ould Mother +Shadd. "I'll thrapese no more," sez I. "D'you mane that?" sez ould +Mother Shadd, lookin' at me side-ways like a hen looks at a hawk whin +the chickens are runnin' free. "Try me, an' tell," sez I. Wid that I +pulled on my gloves, dhrank off the tay, an' went out av the house as +stiff as at gin'ral p'rade, for well I knew that Dinah Shadd's eyes +were in the small av my back out av the scullery window. Faith! that +was the only time I mourned I was not a cav'l'ry-man for the pride av +the spurs to jingle.</p> + +<p>'I wint out to think, an' I did a powerful lot av thinkin', but ut all +came round to that shlip av a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>girl in the dotted blue dhress, wid the +blue eyes an' the sparkil in them. Thin I kept off canteen, an' I kept +to the married quarthers, or near by, on the chanst av meetin' Dinah. +Did I meet her? Oh, my time past, did I not; wid a lump in my throat +as big as my valise an' my heart goin' like a farrier's forge on a +Saturday morning? 'Twas "Good day to ye, Miss Dinah," an' "Good day +t'you, Corp'ril," for a week or two, and divil a bit further could I +get bekaze av the respect I had to that girl that I cud ha' broken +betune finger an' thumb.'</p> + +<p>Here I giggled as I recalled the gigantic figure of Dinah Shadd when +she handed me my shirt.</p> + +<p>'Ye may laugh,' grunted Mulvaney. 'But I'm speakin' the trut', an' +'tis you that are in fault. Dinah was a girl that wud ha' taken the +imperiousness out av the Duchess av Clonmel in those days. Flower +hand, foot av shod air, an' the eyes av the livin' mornin' she had +that is my wife to-day—ould Dinah, and niver aught else than Dinah +Shadd to me.</p> + +<p>''Twas after three weeks standin' off an' on, an' niver makin' headway +excipt through the eyes, that a little drummer-boy grinned in me face +whin I had admonished him wid the buckle av my belt for riotin' all +over the place. "An' I'm not the only wan that doesn't kape to +barricks," sez he. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>I tuk him by the scruff av his neck,—my heart was +hung on a hair-thrigger those days, you will onderstand,—an' "Out wid +ut," sez I, "or I'll lave no bone av you unbreakable."—"Speak to +Dempsey," sez he howlin'. "Dempsey which?" sez I, "ye unwashed limb av +Satan."—"Av the Bob-tailed Dhragoons," sez he. "He's seen her home +from her aunt's house in the civil lines four times this +fortnight."—"Child!" sez I, dhroppin' him, "you're tongue's stronger +than your body. Go to your quarters. I'm sorry I dhressed you down."</p> + +<p>'At that I went four ways to wanst huntin' Dempsey. I was mad to think +that wid all my airs among women I shud ha' been chated by a +basin-faced fool av a cav'l'ry-man not fit to trust on a trunk. +Presintly I found him in our lines—the Bobtails was quartered next +us—an' a tallowy, topheavy son av a she-mule he was wid his big brass +spurs an' his plastrons on his epigastrons an' all. But he niver +flinched a hair.</p> + +<p>'"A word wid you, Dempsey," sez I. "You've walked wid Dinah Shadd four +times this fortnight gone."</p> + +<p>'"What's that to you?" sez he. "I'll walk forty times more, an' forty +on top av that, ye shovel-futted clod-breakin' infantry +lance-corp'ril."</p> + +<p>'Before I cud gyard he had his gloved fist home on my cheek an' down I +went full-sprawl. "Will <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>that content you?" sez he, blowin' on his +knuckles for all the world like a Scots Greys orf'cer. "Content!" sez +I. "For your own sake, man, take off your spurs, peel your jackut, an' +onglove. 'Tis the beginnin' av the overture; stand up!"</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep121" id="imagep121"></a> +<a href="images/imagep121.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep121.jpg" width="50%" alt=""My collar-bone's bruk"" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">'"My collar-bone's bruk," sez he.'—<span class="fakesc">P. 121.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'He stud all he know, but he niver peeled his jacket, an' his +shoulders had no fair play. I was fightin' for Dinah Shadd an' that +cut on my cheek. What hope had he forninst me? "Stand up," sez I, time +an' again whin he was beginnin' to quarter the ground an' gyard high +an' go large. "This isn't ridin'-school," I sez. "O man, stand up an' +let me get in at ye." But whin I saw he wud be runnin' about, I grup +his shtock in my left an' his waist-belt in my right an' swung him +clear to my right front, head undher, he hammerin' my nose till the +wind was knocked out av him on the bare ground. "Stand up," sez I, "or +I'll kick your head into your chest!" and I wud ha' done ut too, so +ragin' mad I was.</p> + +<p>'"My collar-bone's bruk," sez he. "Help me back to lines. I'll walk +wid her no more." So I helped him back.'</p> + +<p>'And was his collar-bone broken?' I asked, for I fancied that only +Learoyd could neatly accomplish that terrible throw.</p> + +<p>'He pitched on his left shoulder-point. Ut was. Next day the news was +in both barricks, an' whin I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>met Dinah Shadd wid a cheek on me like +all the reg'mintal tailor's samples, there was no "Good mornin', +Corp'ril," or aught else. "An' what have I done, Miss Shadd," sez I, +very bould, plantin' mesilf forninst her, "that ye should not pass the +time of day?"</p> + +<p>'"Ye've half-killed rough-rider Dempsey," sez she, her dear blue eyes +fillin' up.</p> + +<p>'"Maybe," sez I. "Was he a friend av yours that saw ye home four times +in the fortnight?"</p> + +<p>'"Yes," sez she, but her mouth was down at the corners. "An'—an' +what's that to you?" she sez.</p> + +<p>'"Ask Dempsey," sez I, purtendin' to go away.</p> + +<p>'"Did you fight for me then, ye silly man?" she sez, tho' she knew ut +all along.</p> + +<p>'"Who else?" sez I, an' I tuk wan pace to the front.</p> + +<p>'"I wasn't worth ut," sez she, fingerin' in her apron.</p> + +<p>'"That's for me to say," sez I. "Shall I say ut?"</p> + +<p>'"Yes," sez she in a saint's whisper, an' at that I explained mesilf; +and she tould me what ivry man that is a man, an' many that is a +woman, hears wanst in his life.</p> + +<p>'"But what made ye cry at startin', Dinah, darlin'?" sez I.</p> + +<p>'"Your—your bloody cheek," sez she, duckin' her little head down on +my sash (I was on duty for the day) an' whimperin' like a sorrowful +angil.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>'Now a man cud take that two ways. I tuk ut as pleased me best an' my +first kiss wid ut. Mother av Innocence! but I kissed her on the tip av +the nose an' undher the eye; an' a girl that lets a kiss come +tumbleways like that has never been kissed before. Take note av that, +Sorr. Thin we wint hand in hand to ould Mother Shadd like two little +childher, an' she said 'twas no bad thing, an' ould Shadd nodded +behind his pipe, an' Dinah ran away to her own room. That day I throd +on rollin' clouds. All earth was too small to hould me. Begad, I cud +ha' hiked the sun out av the sky for a live coal to my pipe, so +magnificent I was. But I tuk recruities at squad-drill instid, an' +began wid general battalion advance whin I shud ha' been +balance-steppin' them. Eyah! that day! that day!'</p> + +<p>A very long pause. 'Well?' said I.</p> + +<p>''Twas all wrong,' said Mulvaney, with an enormous sigh. 'An' I know +that ev'ry bit av ut was my own foolishness. That night I tuk maybe +the half av three pints—not enough to turn the hair of a man in his +natural senses. But I was more than half drunk wid pure joy, an' that +canteen beer was so much whisky to me. I can't tell how it came about, +but <i>bekaze</i> I had no thought for any wan except Dinah, <i>bekaze</i> I +hadn't slipped her little white arms from my neck five minuts, +<i>bekaze</i> the breath of her kiss was not gone from <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>my mouth, I must go +through the married lines on my way to quarters an' I must stay +talkin' to a red-headed Mullingar heifer av a girl, Judy Sheehy, that +was daughter to Mother Sheehy, the wife of Nick Sheehy, the +canteen-sergint—the Black Curse av Shielygh be on the whole brood +that are above groun' this day!</p> + +<p>'"An' what are ye houldin' your head that high for, Corp'ril?" sez +Judy. "Come in an' thry a cup av tay," she sez, standin' in the +doorway. Bein' an ontrustable fool, an' thinkin' av anything but tay, +I wint.</p> + +<p>'"Mother's at canteen," sez Judy, smoothin' the hair av hers that was +like red snakes, an' lookin' at me corner-ways out av her green cats' +eyes. "Ye will not mind, Corp'ril?"</p> + +<p>'"I can endure," sez I; ould Mother Sheehy bein' no divarsion av mine, +nor her daughter too. Judy fetched the tea things an' put thim on the +table, leanin' over me very close to get thim square. I dhrew back, +thinkin' av Dinah.</p> + +<p>'"Is ut afraid you are av a girl alone?" sez Judy.</p> + +<p>'"No," sez I. "Why should I be?"</p> + +<p>'"That rests wid the girl," sez Judy, dhrawin' her chair next to mine.</p> + +<p>'"Thin there let ut rest," sez I; an' thinkin' I'd been a trifle +onpolite, I sez, "The tay's not quite <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>sweet enough for my taste. Put +your little finger in the cup, Judy. 'Twill make ut necthar."</p> + +<p>'"What's necthar?" sez she.</p> + +<p>'"Somethin' very sweet," sez I; an' for the sinful life av me I cud +not help lookin' at her out av the corner av my eye, as I was used to +look at a woman.</p> + +<p>'"Go on wid ye, Cor'pril," sez she. "You're a flirrt."</p> + +<p>'"On me sowl I'm not," sez I.</p> + +<p>'"Then you're a cruel handsome man, an' that's worse," sez she, +heavin' big sighs an' lookin' cross-ways.</p> + +<p>'"You know your own mind," sez I.</p> + +<p>'"Twud be better for me if I did not," she sez.</p> + +<p>'"There's a dale to be said on both sides av that," sez I, unthinkin'.</p> + +<p>'"Say your own part av ut, then, Terence, darlin'," sez she; "for +begad I'm thinkin' I've said too much or too little for an honest +girl," an' wid that she put her arms round my neck an' kissed me.</p> + +<p>'"There's no more to be said afther that," sez I, kissin' her back +again—oh the mane scutt that I was, my head ringin' wid Dinah Shadd! +How does ut come about, Sorr, that when a man has put the comether on +wan woman, he's sure bound to put it on another? 'Tis the same thing +at musketry. Wan day ivry shot goes wide or into the bank, an' <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>the +next, lay high lay low, sight or snap, ye can't get off the bull's-eye +for ten shots runnin'.'</p> + +<p>'That only happens to a man who has had a good deal of experience. He +does it without thinking,' I replied.</p> + +<p>'Thankin' you for the complimint, Sorr, ut may be so. But I'm doubtful +whether you mint ut for a complimint. Hear now; I sat there wid Judy +on my knee tellin' me all manner av nonsinse an' only sayin' "yes" an' +"no," when I'd much better ha' kept tongue betune teeth. An' that was +not an hour afther I had left Dinah! What I was thinkin' av I cannot +say. Presintly, quiet as a cat, ould Mother Sheehy came in +velvet-dhrunk. She had her daughter's red hair, but 'twas bald in +patches, an' I could see in her wicked ould face, clear as lightnin', +what Judy wud be twenty years to come. I was for jumpin' up, but Judy +niver moved.</p> + +<p>'"Terence has promust, mother," sez she, an' the could sweat bruk out +all over me. Ould Mother Sheehy sat down of a heap an' began playin' +wid the cups. "Thin you're a well-matched pair," she sez very thick. +"For he's the biggest rogue that iver spoiled the queen's +shoe-leather, an'——"</p> + +<p>'"I'm off, Judy," sez I. "Ye should not talk nonsinse to your mother. +Get her to bed, girl."</p> + +<p>'"Nonsinse!" sez the ould woman, prickin' up her ears like a cat an' +grippin' the table-edge. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>"'Twill be the most nonsinsical nonsinse for +you, ye grinnin' badger, if nonsinse 'tis. Git clear, you. I'm goin' +to bed."</p> + +<p>'I ran out into the dhark, my head in a stew an' my heart sick, but I +had sinse enough to see that I'd brought ut all on mysilf. "It's this +to pass the time av day to a panjandhrum av hell-cats," sez I. "What +I've said, an' what I've not said do not matther. Judy an' her dam +will hould me for a promust man, an' Dinah will give me the go, an' I +desarve ut. I will go an' get dhrunk," sez I, "an' forget about ut, +for 'tis plain I'm not a marrin' man."</p> + +<p>'On my way to canteen I ran against Lascelles, colour-sergeant that +was av E comp'ny, a hard, hard man, wid a torment av a wife. "You've +the head av a drowned man on your shoulders," sez he; "an' you're +goin' where you'll get a worse wan. Come back," sez he. "Let me go," +sez I. "I've thrown my luck over the wall wid my own hand!"—"Then +that's not the way to get ut back again," sez he. "Have out wid your +throuble, you fool-bhoy." An' I tould him how the matther was.</p> + +<p>'He sucked in his lower lip. "You've been thrapped," sez he. "Ju +Sheehy wud be the betther for a man's name to hers as soon as can. An' +ye thought ye'd put the comether on her,—that's the natural vanity of +the baste. Terence, you're a big born fool, but you're not bad enough +to marry into <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>that comp'ny. If you said anythin', an' for all your +protestations I'm sure ye did—or did not, which is worse,—eat ut +all—lie like the father of all lies, but come out av ut free av Judy. +Do I not know what ut is to marry a woman that was the very spit an' +image av Judy whin she was young? I'm gettin' old an' I've larnt +patience, but you, Terence, you'd raise hand on Judy an' kill her in a +year. Never mind if Dinah gives you the go, you've desarved ut; never +mind if the whole reg'mint laughs you all day. Get shut av Judy an' +her mother. They can't dhrag you to church, but if they do, they'll +dhrag you to hell. Go back to your quarters and lie down," sez he. +Thin over his shoulder, "You <i>must</i> ha' done with thim."</p> + +<p>'Next day I wint to see Dinah, but there was no tucker in me as I +walked. I knew the throuble wud come soon enough widout any handlin' +av mine, an' I dreaded ut sore.</p> + +<p>'I heard Judy callin' me, but I hild straight on to the Shadds' +quarthers, an' Dinah wud ha' kissed me but I put her back.</p> + +<p>'"Whin all's said, darlin'," sez I, "you can give ut me if ye will, +tho' I misdoubt 'twill be so easy to come by then."</p> + +<p>'I had scarce begun to put the explanation into shape before Judy an' +her mother came to the door. I think there was a veranda, but I'm +forgettin'.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>'"Will ye not step in?" sez Dinah, pretty and polite, though the +Shadds had no dealin's with the Sheehys. Old Mother Shadd looked up +quick, an' she was the fust to see the throuble; for Dinah was her +daughter.</p> + +<p>'"I'm pressed for time to-day," sez Judy as bould as brass; "an' I've +only come for Terence,—my promust man. 'Tis strange to find him here +the day afther the day."</p> + +<p>'Dinah looked at me as though I had hit her, an' I answered straight.</p> + +<p>'"There was some nonsinse last night at the Sheehys' quarthers, an' +Judy's carryin' on the joke, darlin'," sez I.</p> + +<p>'"At the Sheehys' quarthers?" sez Dinah very slow, an' Judy cut in +wid: "He was there from nine till ten, Dinah Shadd, an' the betther +half av that time I was sittin' on his knee, Dinah Shadd. Ye may look +an' ye may look an' ye may look me up an' down, but ye won't look away +that Terence is my promust man. Terence, darlin', 'tis time for us to +be comin' home."</p> + +<p>'Dinah Shadd niver said word to Judy. "Ye left me at half-past eight," +she sez to me, "an' I niver thought that ye'd leave me for +Judy,—promises or no promises. Go back wid her, you that have to be +fetched by a girl! I'm done with you," sez she, and she ran into her +own room, her mother followin'. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>So I was alone wid those two women +and at liberty to spake my sentiments.</p> + +<p>'"Judy Sheehy," sez I, "if you made a fool av me betune the lights you +shall not do ut in the day. I niver promised you words or lines."</p> + +<p>'"You lie," sez ould Mother Sheehy, "an' may ut choke you where you +stand!" She was far gone in dhrink.</p> + +<p>'"An' tho' ut choked me where I stud I'd not change," sez I. "Go home, +Judy. I take shame for a decent girl like you dhraggin' your mother +out bareheaded on this errand. Hear now, and have ut for an answer. I +gave my word to Dinah Shadd yesterday, an', more blame to me, I was +wid you last night talkin' nonsinse but nothin' more. You've chosen to +thry to hould me on ut. I will not be held thereby for anythin' in the +world. Is that enough?"</p> + +<p>'Judy wint pink all over. "An' I wish you joy av the perjury," sez +she, duckin' a curtsey. "You've lost a woman that would ha' wore her +hand to the bone for your pleasure; an' 'deed, Terence, ye were not +thrapped...." Lascelles must ha' spoken plain to her. "I am such as +Dinah is—'deed I am! Ye've lost a fool av a girl that'll niver look +at you again, and ye've lost what ye niver had—your common honesty. +If you manage your men as you manage your love makin', small wondher +they call you the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>worst corp'ril in the comp'ny. Come away, mother," +sez she.</p> + +<p>'But divil a fut would the ould woman budge! "D'you hould by that?" +sez she, peerin' up under her thick gray eyebrows.</p> + +<p>'"Ay, an' wud," sez I, "tho' Dinah gave me the go twinty times. I'll +have no thruck with you or yours," sez I. "Take your child away, ye +shameless woman."</p> + +<p>'"An' am I shameless?" sez she, bringin' her hands up above her head. +"Thin what are you, ye lyin', schamin', weak-kneed, dhirty-souled son +av a sutler? Am <i>I</i> shameless? Who put the open shame on me an' my +child that we shud go beggin' through the lines in the broad daylight +for the broken word of a man? Double portion of my shame be on you, +Terence Mulvaney, that think yourself so strong! By Mary and the +saints, by blood and water an' by ivry sorrow that came into the world +since the beginnin', the black blight fall on you and yours, so that +you may niver be free from pain for another when ut's not your own! +May your heart bleed in your breast drop by drop wid all your friends +laughin' at the bleedin'! Strong you think yourself? May your strength +be a curse to you to dhrive you into the divil's hands against your +own will! Clear-eyed you are? May your eyes see clear evry step av the +dark path you take <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>till the hot cindhers av hell put thim out! May +the ragin' dry thirst in my own ould bones go to you that you shall +niver pass bottle full nor glass empty. God preserve the light av your +onderstandin' to you, my jewel av a bhoy, that ye may niver forget +what you mint to be an' do, whin you're wallowin' in the muck! May ye +see the betther and follow the worse as long as there's breath in your +body; an' may ye die quick in a strange land, watchin' your death +before ut takes you, an' onable to stir hand or foot!"</p> + +<p>'I heard a scufflin' in the room behind, and thin Dinah Shadd's hand +dhropped into mine like a rose-leaf into a muddy road.</p> + +<p>'"The half av that I'll take," sez she, "an' more too if I can. Go +home, ye silly talkin' woman,—go home an' confess."</p> + +<p>'"Come away! Come away!" sez Judy, pullin' her mother by the shawl. +"'Twas none av Terence's fault. For the love av Mary stop the +talkin'!"</p> + +<p>'"An' you!" said ould Mother Sheehy, spinnin' round forninst Dinah. +"Will ye take the half av that man's load? Stand off from him, Dinah +Shadd, before he takes you down too—you that look to be a +quarther-master-sergeant's wife in five years. You look too high, +child. You shall <i>wash</i> for the quarther-master-sergeant, whin he +plases to give you the job out av charity; but a privit's wife you +shall <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>be to the end, an' evry sorrow of a privit's wife you shall +know and niver a joy but wan, that shall go from you like the running +tide from a rock. The pain av bearin' you shall know but niver the +pleasure av giving the breast; an' you shall put away a man-child into +the common ground wid niver a priest to say a prayer over him, an' on +that man-child ye shall think ivry day av your life. Think long, Dinah +Shadd, for you'll niver have another tho' you pray till your knees are +bleedin'. The mothers av childer shall mock you behind your back when +you're wringing over the wash-tub. You shall know what ut is to help a +dhrunken husband home an' see him go to the gyard-room. Will that +plase you, Dinah Shadd, that won't be seen talkin' to my daughter? You +shall talk to worse than Judy before all's over. The sergints' wives +shall look down on you contemptuous, daughter av a sergint, an' you +shall cover ut all up wid a smiling face whin your heart's burstin'. +Stand off av him, Dinah Shadd, for I've put the Black Curse of +Shielygh upon him an' his own mouth shall make ut good."</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep132" id="imagep132"></a> +<a href="images/imagep132.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep132.jpg" width="50%" alt=""The half av that I'll take"" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">'"The half av that I'll take," sez she.'—<span class="sc">P. +132.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'She pitched forward on her head an' began foamin' at the mouth. Dinah +Shadd ran out wid water, an' Judy dhragged the ould woman into the +veranda till she sat up.</p> + +<p>'"I'm old an' forlore," she sez, thremblin' an' cryin', "and 'tis like +I say a dale more than I mane."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>'"When you're able to walk—go," says ould Mother Shadd. "This house +has no place for the likes av you that have cursed my daughter."</p> + +<p>'"Eyah!" said the ould woman. "Hard words break no bones, an' Dinah +Shadd'll kape the love av her husband till my bones are green corn. +Judy, darlin', I misremember what I came here for. Can you lend us the +bottom av a taycup av tay, Mrs. Shadd?"</p> + +<p>'But Judy dhragged her off cryin' as tho' her heart wud break. An' +Dinah Shadd an' I, in ten minutes we had forgot ut all.'</p> + +<p>'Then why do you remember it now?' said I.</p> + +<p>'Is ut like I'd forget? Ivry word that wicked ould woman spoke fell +thrue in my life aftherwards, an' I cud ha' stud ut all—stud ut +all,—excipt when my little Shadd was born. That was on the line av +march three months afther the regiment was taken with cholera. We were +betune Umballa an' Kalka thin, an' I was on picket. Whin I came off +duty the women showed me the child, an' ut turned on uts side an' died +as I looked. We buried him by the road, an' Father Victor was a day's +march behind wid the heavy baggage, so the comp'ny captain read a +prayer. An' since then I've been a childless man, an' all else that +ould Mother Sheehy put upon me an' Dinah Shadd. What do you think, +Sorr?'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>I thought a good deal, but it seemed better then to reach out for +Mulvaney's hand. The demonstration nearly cost me the use of three +fingers. Whatever he knows of his weaknesses, Mulvaney is entirely +ignorant of his strength.</p> + +<p>'But what do you think?' he repeated, as I was straightening out the +crushed fingers.</p> + +<p>My reply was drowned in yells and outcries from the next fire, where +ten men were shouting for 'Orth'ris,' 'Privit Orth'ris,' 'Mistah +Or—ther—ris!' 'Deah boy,' 'Cap'n Orth'ris,' 'Field-Marshal +Orth'ris,' 'Stanley, you pen'north o' pop, come 'ere to your own +comp'ny!' And the Cockney, who had been delighting another audience +with recondite and Rabelaisian yarns, was shot down among his admirers +by the major force.</p> + +<p>'You've crumpled my dress-shirt 'orrid,' said he, 'an' I shan't sing +no more to this 'ere bloomin' drawin'-room.'</p> + +<p>Learoyd, roused by the confusion, uncoiled himself, crept behind +Ortheris, and slung him aloft on his shoulders.</p> + +<p>'Sing, ye bloomin' hummin' bird!' said he, and Ortheris, beating time +on Learoyd's skull, delivered himself, in the raucous voice of the +Ratcliffe Highway, of this song:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My girl she give me the go onst,<br /></span><span class='pn'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +<span class="i1">When I was a London lad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' I went on the drink for a fortnight,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An' then I went to the bad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Queen she gave me a shillin'<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To fight for 'er over the seas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Guv'ment built me a fever-trap,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An' Injia gave me disease.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Ho! don't you 'eed what a girl says,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">An' don't you go for the beer;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I was an ass when I was at grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">An' that is why I'm here.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I fired a shot at a Afghan,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The beggar 'e fired again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' I lay on my bed with a 'ole in my 'ed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An' missed the next campaign!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I up with my gun at a Burman<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who carried a bloomin' <i>dah</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the cartridge stuck and the bay'nit bruk,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An' all I got was the scar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Ho! don't you aim at a Afghan<br /></span> +<span class="i3">When you stand on the sky-line clear;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' don't you go for a Burman<br /></span> +<span class="i3">If none o' your friends is near.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I served my time for a corp'ral,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An' wetted my stripes with pop,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I went on the bend with a intimate friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An' finished the night in the 'shop.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I served my time for a sergeant;<br /></span><span class='pn'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +<span class="i1">The colonel 'e sez 'No!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The most you'll see is a full C.B.'<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i1">An' ... very next night 'twas so.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Ho! don't you go for a corp'ral<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Unless your 'ed is clear;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I was an ass when I was at grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">An' that is why I'm 'ere.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I've tasted the luck o' the army<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In barrack an' camp an' clink,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' I lost my tip through the bloomin' trip<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Along o' the women an' drink.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm down at the heel o' my service<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An' when I am laid on the shelf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My very wust friend from beginning to end<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the blood of a mouse was myself!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Ho! don't you 'eed what a girl says,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">An' don't you go for the beer;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I was an ass when I was at grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">An' that is why I'm 'ere.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Ay, listen to our little man now, singin' an' shoutin' as tho' trouble +had niver touched him. D' you remember when he went mad with the +home-sickness?' said Mulvaney, recalling a never-to-be-forgotten +season when Ortheris waded through the deep waters of affliction and +behaved <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>abominably. 'But he's talkin' bitter truth, though. Eyah!</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'My very worst frind from beginnin' to ind<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the blood av a mouse was mesilf!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="font-size: 120%; font-weight: bold;"> . . . . . . .<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>When I woke I saw Mulvaney, the night-dew gemming his moustache, +leaning on his rifle at picket, lonely as Prometheus on his rock, with +I know not what vultures tearing his liver.</p> + +<br /> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep138.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep138.jpg" width="35%" alt="End of Chapter Illustration" /></a> +</div> + + +<br /> +<hr style="15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Confined to barracks.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="KRISHNA_MULVANEY" id="KRISHNA_MULVANEY"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span><br /> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep139.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep139.jpg" width="65%" alt="THE INCARNATION OF KRISHNA MULVANEY" /></a> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>THE INCARNATION OF KRISHNA MULVANEY<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wohl auf, my bully cavaliers<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We ride to church to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The man that hasn't got a horse<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Must steal one straight away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="font-size: 120%; font-weight: bold;"> . . . . . .<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be reverent, men, remember<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This is a Gottes haus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Du, Conrad, cut along der aisle<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And schenck der whisky aus.<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Hans Breitmann's Ride to Church.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<br /> + +<p>Once upon a time, very far from England, there lived three men who +loved each other so greatly that neither man nor woman could come +between them. They were in no sense refined, nor to be admitted to the +outer-door mats of decent folk, because they happened to be private +soldiers in Her Majesty's Army; and private soldiers of our service +have small time for self-culture. Their duty is to keep themselves and +their accoutrements specklessly clean, to refrain from getting drunk +more often than is necessary, to obey their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>superiors, and to pray +for a war. All these things my friends accomplished; and of their own +motion threw in some fighting-work for which the Army Regulations did +not call. Their fate sent them to serve in India, which is not a +golden country, though poets have sung otherwise. There men die with +great swiftness, and those who live suffer many and curious things. I +do not think that my friends concerned themselves much with the social +or political aspects of the East. They attended a not unimportant war +on the northern frontier, another one on our western boundary, and a +third in Upper Burma. Then their regiment sat still to recruit, and +the boundless monotony of cantonment life was their portion. They were +drilled morning and evening on the same dusty parade-ground. They +wandered up and down the same stretch of dusty white road, attended +the same church and the same grog-shop, and slept in the same +lime-washed barn of a barrack for two long years. There was Mulvaney, +the father in the craft, who had served with various regiments from +Bermuda to Halifax, old in war, scarred, reckless, resourceful, and in +his pious hours an unequalled soldier. To him turned for help and +comfort six and a half feet of slow-moving, heavy-footed Yorkshireman, +born on the wolds, bred in the dales, and educated chiefly among the +carriers' carts at the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>back of York railway-station. His name was +Learoyd, and his chief virtue an unmitigated patience which helped him +to win fights. How Ortheris, a fox-terrier of a Cockney, ever came to +be one of the trio, is a mystery which even to-day I cannot explain. +'There was always three av us,' Mulvaney used to say. 'An' by the +grace av God, so long as our service lasts, three av us they'll always +be. 'Tis betther so.'</p> + +<p>They desired no companionship beyond their own, and it was evil for +any man of the regiment who attempted dispute with them. Physical +argument was out of the question as regarded Mulvaney and the +Yorkshireman; and assault on Ortheris meant a combined attack from +these twain—a business which no five men were anxious to have on +their hands. Therefore they flourished, sharing their drinks, their +tobacco, and their money; good luck and evil; battle and the chances +of death; life and the chances of happiness from Calicut in Southern, +to Peshawur in Northern India.</p> + +<p>Through no merit of my own it was my good fortune to be in a measure +admitted to their friendship—frankly by Mulvaney from the beginning, +sullenly and with reluctance by Learoyd, and suspiciously by Ortheris, +who held to it that no man not in the Army could fraternise with a +red-coat. 'Like to like,' said he. 'I'm a bloomin' <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>sodger—he's a +bloomin' civilian. 'Taint natural—that's all.'</p> + +<p>But that was not all. They thawed progressively, and in the thawing +told me more of their lives and adventures than I am ever likely to +write.</p> + +<p>Omitting all else, this tale begins with the Lamentable Thirst that +was at the beginning of First Causes. Never was such a thirst—Mulvaney +told me so. They kicked against their compulsory virtue, but the +attempt was only successful in the case of Ortheris. He, whose talents +were many, went forth into the highways and stole a dog from a +'civilian'—<i>videlicet</i>, some one, he knew not who, not in the Army. +Now that civilian was but newly connected by marriage with the Colonel +of the regiment, and outcry was made from quarters least anticipated +by Ortheris, and, in the end, he was forced, lest a worse thing should +happen, to dispose at ridiculously unremunerative rates of as +promising a small terrier as ever graced one end of a leading string. +The purchase-money was barely sufficient for one small outbreak, which +led him to the guard-room. He escaped, however, with nothing worse +than a severe reprimand, and a few hours of punishment drill. Not for +nothing had he acquired the reputation of being 'the best soldier of +his inches' in the regiment. Mulvaney <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>had taught personal cleanliness +and efficiency as the first articles of his companions' creed. 'A +dhirty man,' he was used to say, in the speech of his kind, 'goes to +Clink for a weakness in the knees, an' is coort-martialled for a pair +av socks missin'; but a clane man, such as is an ornament to his +service—a man whose buttons are gold, whose coat is wax upon him, an' +whose 'coutrements are widout a speck—<i>that</i> man may, spakin' in +reason, do fwhat he likes an' dhrink from day to divil. That's the +pride av bein' dacint.'</p> + +<p>We sat together, upon a day, in the shade of a ravine far from the +barracks, where a watercourse used to run in rainy weather. Behind us +was the scrub jungle, in which jackals, peacocks, the gray wolves of +the North-Western Provinces, and occasionally a tiger estrayed from +Central India, were supposed to dwell. In front lay the cantonment, +glaring white under a glaring sun; and on either side ran the broad +road that led to Delhi.</p> + +<p>It was the scrub that suggested to my mind the wisdom of Mulvaney +taking a day's leave and going upon a shooting-tour. The peacock is a +holy bird throughout India, and he who slays one is in danger of being +mobbed by the nearest villagers; but on the last occasion that +Mulvaney had gone forth, he had contrived, without in the least +offending local religious susceptibilities, to return with six +beautiful <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>peacock skins which he sold to profit. It seemed just +possible then——</p> + +<p>'But fwhat manner av use is ut to me goin' out widout a dhrink? The +ground's powdher-dhry underfoot, an' ut gets unto the throat fit to +kill,' wailed Mulvaney, looking at me reproachfully. 'An' a peacock is +not a bird you can catch the tail av onless ye run. Can a man run on +wather—an' jungle-wather too?'</p> + +<p>Ortheris had considered the question in all its bearings. He spoke, +chewing his pipe-stem meditatively the while:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Go forth, return in glory,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Clusium's royal 'ome:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' round these bloomin' temples 'ang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bloomin' shields o' Rome.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="noin">You better go. You ain't like to shoot yourself—not while there's a +chanst of liquor. Me an' Learoyd'll stay at 'ome an' keep shop—'case +o' anythin' turnin' up. But you go out with a gas-pipe gun an' ketch +the little peacockses or somethin'. You kin get one day's leave easy +as winkin'. Go along an' get it, an' get peacockses or somethin'.'</p> + +<p>'Jock,' said Mulvaney, turning to Learoyd, who was half asleep under +the shadow of the bank. He roused slowly.</p> + +<p>'Sitha, Mulvaney, go,' said he.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>And Mulvaney went; cursing his allies with Irish fluency and +barrack-room point.</p> + +<p>'Take note,' said he, when he had won his holiday, and appeared +dressed in his roughest clothes with the only other regimental +fowling-piece in his hand. 'Take note, Jock, an' you, Orth'ris, I am +goin' in the face av my own will—all for to please you. I misdoubt +anythin' will come av permiscuous huntin' afther peacockses in a +desolit lan'; an' I know that I will lie down an' die wid thirrrst. Me +catch peacockses for you, ye lazy scutts—an' be sacrificed by the +peasanthry—ugh!'</p> + +<p>He waved a huge paw and went away.</p> + +<p>At twilight, long before the appointed hour, he returned empty-handed, +much begrimed with dirt.</p> + +<p>'Peacockses?' queried Ortheris from the safe rest of a barrack-room +table whereon he was smoking cross-legged, Learoyd fast asleep on a +bench.</p> + +<p>'Jock,' said Mulvaney without answering, as he stirred up the sleeper. +'Jock, can ye fight? Will ye fight?'</p> + +<p>Very slowly the meaning of the words communicated itself to the +half-roused man. He understood—and again—what might these things +mean? Mulvaney was shaking him savagely. Meantime the men in the room +howled with delight. There was war in the confederacy at last—war and +the breaking of bonds.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>Barrack-room etiquette is stringent. On the direct challenge must +follow the direct reply. This is more binding than the ties of tried +friendship. Once again Mulvaney repeated the question. Learoyd +answered by the only means in his power, and so swiftly that the +Irishman had barely time to avoid the blow. The laughter around +increased. Learoyd looked bewilderedly at his friend—himself as +greatly bewildered. Ortheris dropped from the table because his world +was falling.</p> + +<p>'Come outside,' said Mulvaney, and as the occupants of the +barrack-room prepared joyously to follow, he turned and said +furiously, 'There will be no fight this night—onless any wan av you +is wishful to assist. The man that does, follows on.'</p> + +<p>No man moved. The three passed out into the moonlight, Learoyd +fumbling with the buttons of his coat. The parade-ground was deserted +except for the scurrying jackals. Mulvaney's impetuous rush carried +his companions far into the open ere Learoyd attempted to turn round +and continue the discussion.</p> + +<p>'Be still now. 'Twas my fault for beginnin' things in the middle av an +end, Jock. I should ha' comminst wid an explanation; but Jock, dear, +on your sowl are ye fit, think you, for the finest fight that iver +was—betther than fightin' me? Considher before ye answer.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>More than ever puzzled, Learoyd turned round two or three times, felt +an arm, kicked tentatively, and answered, 'Ah'm fit.' He was +accustomed to fight blindly at the bidding of the superior mind.</p> + +<p>They sat them down, the men looking on from afar, and Mulvaney +untangled himself in mighty words.</p> + +<p>'Followin' your fools' scheme I wint out into the thrackless desert +beyond the barricks. An' there I met a pious Hindu dhriving a +bullock-kyart. I tuk ut for granted he wud be delighted for to convoy +me a piece, an' I jumped in——'</p> + +<p>'You long, lazy, black-haired swine,' drawled Ortheris, who would have +done the same thing under similar circumstances.</p> + +<p>''Twas the height av policy. That naygur-man dhruv miles an' miles—as +far as the new railway line they're buildin' now back av the Tavi +River. "'Tis a kyart for dhirt only," says he now an' again +timoreously, to get me out av ut. "Dhirt I am," sez I, "an' the +dhryest that you ever kyarted. Dhrive on, me son, an' glory be wid +you." At that I wint to slape, an' took no heed till he pulled up on +the embankmint av the line where the coolies were pilin' mud. There +was a matther av two thousand coolies on that line—you remimber that. +Prisintly a bell rang, an' they throops off to a big pay-shed. +"Where's the white man in charge?" sez I to my <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>kyart-dhriver. "In the +shed," sez he, "engaged on a riffle."—"A fwhat?" sez I. "Riffle," sez +he. "You take ticket. He take money. You get nothin'."—"Oho!" sez I, +"that's fwhat the shuperior an' cultivated man calls a raffle, me +misbeguided child av darkness an' sin. Lead on to that raffle, though +fwhat the mischief 'tis doin' so far away from uts home—which is the +charity-bazar at Christmas, an' the Colonel's wife grinnin' behind the +tea-table—is more than I know." Wid that I wint to the shed an' found +'twas pay-day among the coolies. Their wages was on a table forninst a +big, fine, red buck av a man—sivun fut high, four fut wide, an' three +fut thick, wid a fist on him like a corn-sack. He was payin' the +coolies fair an' easy, but he wud ask each man if he wud raffle that +month, an' each man sez, "Yes," av course. Thin he wud deduct from +their wages accordin'. Whin all was paid, he filled an ould cigar-box +full av gun-wads an' scatthered ut among the coolies. They did not +take much joy av that performince, an' small wondher. A man close to +me picks up a black gunwad an' sings out, "I have ut."—"Good may ut +do you," sez I. The coolie wint forward to this big, fine, red man, +who threw a cloth off av the most sumpshus, jooled, enamelled an' +variously bedivilled sedan-chair I iver saw.'</p> + +<p>'Sedan-chair! Put your 'ead in a bag. That <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>was a palanquin. Don't +yer know a palanquin when you see it?' said Ortheris with great scorn.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep149" id="imagep149"></a> +<a href="images/imagep149.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep149.jpg" width="50%" alt="I'm in charge av this section" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;">'"Out of this," sez he, "I'm +in charge av this section av construction."—"I'm in charge av mesilf," sez I, "an' it's like I +will stay a while."'—<span class="fakesc">P. 149.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'I chuse to call ut sedan-chair, an' chair ut shall be, little man,' +continued the Irishman. ''Twas a most amazin' chair—all lined wid +pink silk an' fitted wid red silk curtains. "Here ut is," sez the red +man. "Here ut is," sez the coolie, an' he grinned weakly-ways. "Is ut +any use to you?" sez the red man. "No," sez the coolie; "I'd like to +make a presint av ut to you."—"I am graciously pleased to accept that +same," sez the red man; an' at that all the coolies cried aloud in +fwhat was mint for cheerful notes, an' wint back to their diggin', +lavin' me alone in the shed. The red man saw me, an' his face grew +blue on his big, fat neck. "Fwhat d'you want here?" sez he. +"Standin'-room an' no more," sez I, "onless it may be fwhat ye niver +had, an' that's manners, ye rafflin' ruffian," for I was not goin' to +have the Service throd upon. "Out of this," sez he. "I'm in charge av +this section av construction."—"I'm in charge av mesilf," sez I, "an' +it's like I will stay a while. D'ye raffle much in these +parts?"—"Fwhat's that to you?" sez he. "Nothin'," sez I, "but a great +dale to you, for begad I'm thinkin' you get the full half av your +revenue from that sedan-chair. Is ut always raffled so?" I sez, an' +wid that I wint to a coolie to ask questions. Bhoys, that man's name +is Dearsley, an' he's been <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>rafflin' that ould sedan-chair monthly +this matther av nine months. Ivry coolie on the section takes a +ticket—or he gives 'em the go—wanst a month on pay-day. Ivry coolie +that wins ut gives ut back to him, for 'tis too big to carry away, an' +he'd sack the man that thried to sell ut. That Dearsley has been +makin' the rowlin' wealth av Roshus by nefarious rafflin'. Think av +the burnin' shame to the sufferin' coolie-man that the army in Injia +are bound to protect an' nourish in their bosoms! Two thousand coolies +defrauded wanst a month!'</p> + +<p>'Dom t' coolies. Has't gotten t' cheer, man?' said Learoyd.</p> + +<p>'Hould on. Havin' onearthed this amazin' an' stupenjus fraud committed +by the man Dearsley, I hild a council av war; he thryin' all the time +to sejuce me into a fight wid opprobrious language. That sedan-chair +niver belonged by right to any foreman av coolies. 'Tis a king's chair +or a quane's. There's gold on ut an' silk an' all manner av +trapesemints. Bhoys, 'tis not for me to countenance any sort av +wrong-doin'—me bein' the ould man—but—anyway he has had ut nine +months, an' he dare not make throuble av ut was taken from him. Five +miles away, or ut may be six——'</p> + +<p>There was a long pause, and the jackals howled merrily. Learoyd bared +one arm, and contemplated it in the moonlight. Then he nodded partly +to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>himself and partly to his friends. Ortheris wriggled with +suppressed emotion.</p> + +<p>'I thought ye wud see the reasonableness av ut,' said Mulvaney. 'I +made bould to say as much to the man before. He was for a direct front +attack—fut, horse, an' guns—an' all for nothin', seem' that I had no +thransport to convey the machine away. "I will not argue wid you," sez +I, "this day, but subsequintly, Mister Dearsley, me rafflin' jool, we +talk ut out lengthways. 'Tis no good policy to swindle the naygur av +his hard-earned emolumints, an' by presint informashin'"—'twas the +kyart man that tould me—"ye've been perpethrating that same for nine +months. But I'm a just man," sez I, "an' overlookin' the presumpshin +that yondher settee wid the gilt top was not come by honust,"—at that +he turned sky-green, so I knew things was more thrue than +tellable—"not come by honust, I'm willin' to compound the felony for +this month's winnin's."'</p> + +<p>'Ah! Ho!' from Learoyd and Ortheris.</p> + +<p>'That man Dearsley's rushin' on his fate,' continued Mulvaney, +solemnly wagging his head. 'All Hell had no name bad enough for me +that tide. Faith, he called me a robber! Me! that was savin' him from +continuin' in his evil ways widout a remonstrince—an' to a man av +conscience a remonstrince may change the chune av his life. "'Tis not +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>for me to argue," sez I, "fwhatever ye are, Mister Dearsley, but, by +my hand, I'll take away the temptation for you that lies in that +sedan-chair."—"You will have to fight me for ut," sez he, "for well I +know you will never dare make report to any one."—"Fight I will," sez +I, "but not this day, for I'm rejuced for want av nourishment."—"Ye're +an ould bould hand," sez he, sizin' up me an' down; "an' a jool of a +fight we will have. Eat now an' dhrink, an' go your way." Wid that he +gave me some hump an' whisky—good whisky—an' we talked av this an' +that the while. "It goes hard on me now," sez I, wipin' my mouth, "to +confiscate that piece of furniture, but justice is justice."—"Ye've +not got ut yet," sez he; "there's the fight between."—"There is," sez +I, "an' a good fight. Ye shall have the pick av the best quality in my +regimint for the dinner you have given this day." Thin I came hot-foot +to you two. Hould your tongue, the both. 'Tis this way. To-morrow we +three will go there an' he shall have his pick betune me an' Jock. +Jock's a deceivin' fighter, for he is all fat to the eye, an' he moves +slow. Now I'm all beef to the look, an' I move quick. By my reckonin' +the Dearsley man won't take me; so me an' Orth'ris'll see fair play. +Jock, I tell you, 'twill be big fightin'—whipped, wid the cream above +the jam. Afther the business 'twill take a good three av us—Jock'll +be very hurt—to haul away that sedan-chair.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>'Palanquin.' This from Ortheris.</p> + +<p>'Fwhatever ut is, we must have ut. 'Tis the only sellin' piece av +property widin reach that we can get so cheap. An' fwhat's a fight +afther all? He has robbed the naygur-man, dishonust. We rob him honust +for the sake av the whisky he gave me.'</p> + +<p>'But wot'll we do with the bloomin' article when we've got it? Them +palanquins are as big as 'ouses, an' uncommon 'ard to sell, as +M'Cleary said when ye stole the sentry-box from the Curragh.'</p> + +<p>'Who's goin' to do t' fightin'?' said Learoyd, and Ortheris subsided. +The three returned to barracks without a word. Mulvaney's last +argument clinched the matter. This palanquin was property, vendible +and to be attained in the simplest and least embarrassing fashion. It +would eventually become beer. Great was Mulvaney.</p> + +<p>Next afternoon a procession of three formed itself and disappeared +into the scrub in the direction of the new railway line. Learoyd alone +was without care, for Mulvaney dived darkly into the future, and +little Ortheris feared the unknown. What befell at that interview in +the lonely pay-shed by the side of the half-built embankment, only a +few hundred coolies know, and their tale is a confusing one, running +thus:—</p> + +<p>'We were at work. Three men in red coats came. They saw the +Sahib—Dearsley Sahib. They made <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>oration; and noticeably the small +man among the red-coats. Dearsley Sahib also made oration, and used +many very strong words. Upon this talk they departed together to an +open space, and there the fat man in the red coat fought with Dearsley +Sahib after the custom of white men—with his hands, making no noise, +and never at all pulling Dearsley Sahib's hair. Such of us as were not +afraid beheld these things for just so long a time as a man needs to +cook the mid-day meal. The small man in the red coat had possessed +himself of Dearsley Sahib's watch. No, he did not steal that watch. He +held it in his hand, and at certain seasons made outcry, and the twain +ceased their combat, which was like the combat of young bulls in +spring. Both men were soon all red, but Dearsley Sahib was much more +red than the other. Seeing this, and fearing for his life—because we +greatly loved him—some fifty of us made shift to rush upon the +red-coats. But a certain man,—very black as to the hair, and in no +way to be confused with the small man, or the fat man who +fought,—that man, we affirm, ran upon us, and of us he embraced some +ten or fifty in both arms, and beat our heads together, so that our +livers turned to water, and we ran away. It is not good to interfere +in the fightings of white men. After that Dearsley Sahib fell and did +not rise, these men jumped upon his stomach and despoiled him of all +his money, and attempted to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>fire the pay-shed, and departed. Is it +true that Dearsley Sahib makes no complaint of these latter things +having been done? We were senseless with fear, and do not at all +remember. There was no palanquin near the pay-shed. What do we know +about palanquins? Is it true that Dearsley Sahib does not return to +this place, on account of his sickness, for ten days? This is the +fault of those bad men in the red coats, who should be severely +punished; for Dearsley Sahib is both our father and mother, and we +love him much. Yet, if Dearsley Sahib does not return to this place at +all, we will speak the truth. There was a palanquin, for the up-keep +of which we were forced to pay nine-tenths of our monthly wage. On +such mulctings Dearsley Sahib allowed us to make obeisance to him +before the palanquin. What could we do? We were poor men. He took a +full half of our wages. Will the Government repay us those moneys? +Those three men in red coats bore the palanquin upon their shoulders +and departed. All the money that Dearsley Sahib had taken from us was +in the cushions of that palanquin. Therefore they stole it. Thousands +of rupees were there—all our money. It was our bank-box, to fill +which we cheerfully contributed to Dearsley Sahib three-sevenths of +our monthly wage. Why does the white man look upon us with the eye of +disfavour? Before God, there was a palanquin, and now there is no +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>palanquin; and if they send the police here to make inquisition, we +can only say that there never has been any palanquin. Why should a +palanquin be near these works? We are poor men, and we know nothing.'</p> + +<p>Such is the simplest version of the simplest story connected with the +descent upon Dearsley. From the lips of the coolies I received it. +Dearsley himself was in no condition to say anything, and Mulvaney +preserved a massive silence, broken only by the occasional licking of +the lips. He had seen a fight so gorgeous that even his power of +speech was taken from him. I respected that reserve until, three days +after the affair, I discovered in a disused stable in my quarters a +palanquin of unchastened splendour—evidently in past days the litter +of a queen. The pole whereby it swung between the shoulders of the +bearers was rich with the painted <i>papier-maché</i> of Cashmere. The +shoulder-pads were of yellow silk. The panels of the litter itself +were ablaze with the loves of all the gods and goddesses of the Hindu +Pantheon—lacquer on cedar. The cedar sliding doors were fitted with +hasps of translucent Jaipur enamel and ran in grooves shod with +silver. The cushions were of brocaded Delhi silk, and the curtains +which once hid any glimpse of the beauty of the king's palace were +stiff with gold. Closer investigation showed that the entire fabric +was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>everywhere rubbed and discoloured by time and wear; but even +thus it was sufficiently gorgeous to deserve housing on the threshold +of a royal zenana. I found no fault with it, except that it was in my +stable. Then, trying to lift it by the silver-shod shoulder-pole, I +laughed. The road from Dearsley's pay-shed to the cantonment was a +narrow and uneven one, and, traversed by three very inexperienced +palanquin-bearers, one of whom was sorely battered about the head, +must have been a path of torment. Still I did not quite recognise the +right of the three musketeers to turn me into a 'fence' for stolen +property.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep157" id="imagep157"></a> +<a href="images/imagep157.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep157.jpg" width="50%" alt="Nine roun's they were even matched" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">'Nine roun's they were even matched, an' at the +tenth——.'—<span class="fakesc">P. 157.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'I'm askin' you to warehouse ut,' said Mulvaney, when he was brought +to consider the question. 'There's no steal in ut. Dearsley tould us +we cud have ut if we fought. Jock fought—an', oh, Sorr, when the +throuble was at uts finest an' Jock was bleedin' like a stuck pig, an' +little Orth'ris was shquealin' on one leg chewin' big bites out av +Dearsley's watch, I wud ha' given my place at the fight to have had +you see wan round. He tuk Jock, as I suspicioned he would, an' Jock +was deceptive. Nine roun's they were even matched, an' at the +tenth—— About that palanquin now. There's not the least throuble in +the world, or we wud not ha' brought ut here. You will ondherstand +that the Queen—God bless her!—does not reckon for a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>privit soldier +to kape elephints an' palanquins an' sich in barricks. Afther we had +dhragged ut down from Dearsley's through that cruel scrub that near +broke Orth'ris's heart, we set ut in the ravine for a night; an' a +thief av a porcupine an' a civet-cat av a jackal roosted in ut, as +well we knew in the mornin'. I put ut to you, Sorr, is an elegint +palanquin, fit for the princess, the natural abidin' place av all the +vermin in cantonmints? We brought ut to you, afther dhark, and put ut +in your shtable. Do not let your conscience prick. Think av the +rejoicin' men in the pay-shed yonder—lookin' at Dearsley wid his head +tied up in a towel—an' well knowin' that they can dhraw their pay +ivry month widout stoppages for riffles. Indirectly, Sorr, you have +rescued from an onprincipled son av a night-hawk the peasanthry av a +numerous village. An' besides, will I let that sedan-chair rot on our +hands? Not I. 'Tis not every day a piece av pure joolry comes into the +market. There's not a king widin these forty miles'—he waved his hand +round the dusty horizon—'not a king wud not be glad to buy ut. Some +day mesilf, whin I have leisure, I'll take ut up along the road an' +dishpose av ut.'</p> + +<p>'How?' said I, for I knew the man was capable of anything.</p> + +<p>'Get into ut, av coorse, and keep wan eye open through the curtains. +Whin I see a likely man av <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>the native persuasion, I will descind +blushin' from my canopy and say, "Buy a palanquin, ye black scutt?" I +will have to hire four men to carry me first, though; and that's +impossible till next pay-day.'</p> + +<p>Curiously enough, Learoyd, who had fought for the prize, and in the +winning secured the highest pleasure life had to offer him, was +altogether disposed to undervalue it, while Ortheris openly said it +would be better to break the thing up. Dearsley, he argued, might be a +many-sided man, capable, despite his magnificent fighting qualities, +of setting in motion the machinery of the civil law—a thing much +abhorred by the soldier. Under any circumstances their fun had come +and passed; the next pay-day was close at hand, when there would be +beer for all. Wherefore longer conserve the painted palanquin?</p> + +<p>'A first-class rifle-shot an' a good little man av your inches you +are,' said Mulvaney. 'But you niver had a head worth a soft-boiled +egg. 'Tis me has to lie awake av nights schamin' an' plottin' for the +three av us. Orth'ris, me son, 'tis no matther av a few gallons av +beer—no, nor twenty gallons—but tubs an' vats an' firkins in that +sedan-chair. Who ut was, an' what ut was, an' how ut got there, we do +not know; but I know in my bones that you an' me an' Jock wid his +sprained <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>thumb will get a fortune thereby. Lave me alone, an' let me +think.'</p> + +<p>Meantime the palanquin stayed in my stall, the key of which was in +Mulvaney's hands.</p> + +<p>Pay-day came, and with it beer. It was not in experience to hope that +Mulvaney, dried by four weeks' drought, would avoid excess. Next +morning he and the palanquin had disappeared. He had taken the +precaution of getting three days' leave 'to see a friend on the +railway,' and the Colonel, well knowing that the seasonal outburst was +near, and hoping it would spend its force beyond the limits of his +jurisdiction, cheerfully gave him all he demanded. At this point +Mulvaney's history, as recorded in the mess-room, stopped.</p> + +<p>Ortheris carried it not much further. 'No, 'e wasn't drunk,' said the +little man loyally, 'the liquor was no more than feelin' its way round +inside of 'im; but 'e went an' filled that 'ole bloomin' palanquin +with bottles 'fore 'e went off. 'E's gone an' 'ired six men to carry +'im, an' I 'ad to 'elp 'im into 'is nupshal couch, 'cause 'e wouldn't +'ear reason. 'E's gone off in 'is shirt an' trousies, swearin' +tremenjus—gone down the road in the palanquin, wavin' 'is legs out o' +windy.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said I, 'but where?'</p> + +<p>'Now you arx me a question. 'E said 'e was goin' to sell that +palanquin, but from observations <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>what happened when I was stuffin' +'im through the door, I fancy 'e's gone to the new embankment to mock +at Dearsley. 'Soon as Jock's off duty I'm goin' there to see if 'e's +safe—not Mulvaney, but t'other man. My saints, but I pity 'im as +'elps Terence out o' the palanquin when 'e's once fair drunk!'</p> + +<p>'He'll come back without harm,' I said.</p> + +<p>''Corse 'e will. On'y question is, what'll 'e be doin' on the road? +Killing Dearsley, like as not. 'E shouldn't 'a gone without Jock or +me.'</p> + +<p>Reinforced by Learoyd, Ortheris sought the foreman of the coolie-gang. +Dearsley's head was still embellished with towels. Mulvaney, drunk or +sober, would have struck no man in that condition, and Dearsley +indignantly denied that he would have taken advantage of the +intoxicated brave.</p> + +<p>'I had my pick o' you two,' he explained to Learoyd, 'and you got my +palanquin—not before I'd made my profit on it. Why'd I do harm when +everything's settled?' Your man <i>did</i> come here—drunk as Davy's sow +on a frosty night—came a-purpose to mock me—stuck his head out of +the door an' called me a crucified hodman. I made him drunker, an' +sent him along. But I never touched him.'</p> + +<p>To these things Learoyd, slow to perceive the evidences of sincerity, +answered only, 'If owt comes <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>to Mulvaaney 'long o' you, I'll gripple +you, clouts or no clouts on your ugly head, an' I'll draw t' throat +twistyways, man. See there now.'</p> + +<p>The embassy removed itself, and Dearsley, the battered, laughed alone +over his supper that evening.</p> + +<p>Three days passed—a fourth and a fifth. The week drew to a close and +Mulvaney did not return. He, his royal palanquin, and his six +attendants, had vanished into air. A very large and very tipsy +soldier, his feet sticking out of the litter of a reigning princess, +is not a thing to travel along the ways without comment. Yet no man of +all the country round had seen any such wonder. He was, and he was +not; and Learoyd suggested the immediate smashment of Dearsley as a +sacrifice to his ghost. Ortheris insisted that all was well, and in +the light of past experience his hopes seemed reasonable.</p> + +<p>'When Mulvaney goes up the road,' said he, ''e's like to go a very +long ways up, specially when 'e's so blue drunk as 'e is now. But what +gits me is 'is not bein' 'eard of pullin' wool off the niggers +somewheres about. That don't look good. The drink must ha' died out in +'im by this, unless 'e's broke a bank, an' then—why don't 'e come +back? 'E didn't ought to ha' gone off without us.'</p> + +<p>Even Ortheris's heart sank at the end of the seventh day, for half the +regiment were out scouring the countryside, and Learoyd had been +forced to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>fight two men who hinted openly that Mulvaney had deserted. +To do him justice, the Colonel laughed at the notion, even when it was +put forward by his much-trusted Adjutant.</p> + +<p>'Mulvaney would as soon think of deserting as you would,' said he. +'No; he's either fallen into a mischief among the villagers—and yet +that isn't likely, for he'd blarney himself out of the Pit; or else he +is engaged on urgent private affairs—some stupendous devilment that +we shall hear of at mess after it has been the round of the +barrack-rooms. The worst of it is that I shall have to give him +twenty-eight days' confinement at least for being absent without +leave, just when I most want him to lick the new batch of recruits +into shape. I never knew a man who could put a polish on young +soldiers as quickly as Mulvaney can. How does he do it?'</p> + +<p>'With blarney and the buckle-end of a belt, Sir,' said the Adjutant. +'He is worth a couple of non-commissioned officers when we are dealing +with an Irish draft, and the London lads seem to adore him. The worst +of it is that if he goes to the cells the other two are neither to +hold nor to bind till he comes out again. I believe Ortheris preaches +mutiny on those occasions, and I know that the mere presence of +Learoyd mourning for Mulvaney kills all the cheerfulness of his room. +The sergeants tell me <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>that he allows no man to laugh when he feels +unhappy. They are a queer gang.'</p> + +<p>'For all that, I wish we had a few more of them. I like a +well-conducted regiment, but these pasty-faced, shifty-eyed, +mealy-mouthed young slouchers from the Depot worry me sometimes with +their offensive virtue. They don't seem to have backbone enough to do +anything but play cards and prowl round the married quarters. I +believe I'd forgive that old villain on the spot if he turned up with +any sort of explanation that I could in decency accept.'</p> + +<p>'Not likely to be much difficulty about that, Sir,' said the Adjutant. +'Mulvaney's explanations are only one degree less wonderful than his +performances. They say that when he was in the Black Tyrone, before he +came to us, he was discovered on the banks of the Liffey trying to +sell his colonel's charger to a Donegal dealer as a perfect lady's +hack. Shackbolt commanded the Tyrone then.'</p> + +<p>'Shackbolt must have had apoplexy at the thought of his ramping +war-horses answering to that description. He used to buy unbacked +devils, and tame them on some pet theory of starvation. What did +Mulvaney say?'</p> + +<p>'That he was a member of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to +Animals, anxious to "sell <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>the poor baste where he would get something +to fill out his dimples." Shackbolt laughed, but I fancy that was why +Mulvaney exchanged to ours.'</p> + +<p>'I wish he were back,' said the Colonel; 'for I like him and believe +he likes me.'</p> + +<p>That evening, to cheer our souls, Learoyd, Ortheris, and I went into +the waste to smoke out a porcupine. All the dogs attended, but even +their clamour—and they began to discuss the shortcomings of +porcupines before they left cantonments—could not take us out of +ourselves. A large, low moon turned the tops of the plume-grass to +silver, and the stunted camelthorn bushes and sour tamarisks into the +likenesses of trooping devils. The smell of the sun had not left the +earth, and little aimless winds blowing across the rose-gardens to the +southward brought the scent of dried roses and water. Our fire once +started, and the dogs craftily disposed to wait the dash of the +porcupine, we climbed to the top of a rain-scarred hillock of earth, +and looked across the scrub seamed with cattle paths, white with the +long grass, and dotted with spots of level pond-bottom, where the +snipe would gather in winter.</p> + +<p>'This,' said Ortheris, with a sigh, as he took in the unkempt +desolation of it all, 'this is sanguinary. This is unusually +sanguinary. Sort o' mad country. Like a grate when the fire's put out +by <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>the sun.' He shaded his eyes against the moonlight. 'An' there's a +loony dancin' in the middle of it all. Quite right. I'd dance too if I +wasn't so downheart.'</p> + +<p>There pranced a Portent in the face of the moon—a huge and ragged +spirit of the waste, that flapped its wings from afar. It had risen +out of the earth; it was coming towards us, and its outline was never +twice the same. The toga, tablecloth, or dressing-gown, whatever the +creature wore, took a hundred shapes. Once it stopped on a +neighbouring mound and flung all its legs and arms to the winds.</p> + +<p>'My, but that scarecrow 'as got 'em bad!' said Ortheris. 'Seems like +if 'e comes any furder we'll 'ave to argify with 'im.'</p> + +<p>Learoyd raised himself from the dirt as a bull clears his flanks of +the wallow. And as a bull bellows, so he, after a short minute at +gaze, gave tongue to the stars.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">'Mulvaaney! Mulvaaney!</span> A-hoo!'</p> + +<p>Oh then it was that we yelled, and the figure dipped into the hollow, +till, with a crash of rending grass, the lost one strode up to the +light of the fire, and disappeared to the waist in a wave of joyous +dogs! Then Learoyd and Ortheris gave greeting, bass and falsetto +together, both swallowing a lump in the throat.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep166" id="imagep166"></a> +<a href="images/imagep166.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep166.jpg" width="50%" alt="There pranced a Portent" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">There pranced a Portent in the face of the +moon.—<span class="fakesc">P. 166.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>'You damned fool!' said they, and severally pounded him with their +fists.</p> + +<p>'Go easy!' he answered; wrapping a huge arm round each. 'I would have +you to know that I am a god, to be treated as such—tho', by my faith, +I fancy I've got to go to the guard-room just like a privit soldier.'</p> + +<p>The latter part of the sentence destroyed the suspicions raised by the +former. Any one would have been justified in regarding Mulvaney as +mad. He was hatless and shoeless, and his shirt and trousers were +dropping off him. But he wore one wondrous garment—a gigantic cloak +that fell from collar-bone to heel—of pale pink silk, wrought all +over in cunningest needlework of hands long since dead, with the loves +of the Hindu gods. The monstrous figures leaped in and out of the +light of the fire as he settled the folds round him.</p> + +<p>Ortheris handled the stuff respectfully for a moment while I was +trying to remember where I had seen it before. Then he screamed, 'What +<i>'ave</i> you done with the palanquin? You're wearin' the linin'.'</p> + +<p>'I am,' said the Irishman, 'an' by the same token the 'broidery is +scrapin' my hide off. I've lived in this sumpshus counterpane for four +days. Me son, I begin to ondherstand why the naygur is no use. Widout +me boots, an' me trousies like an openwork <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>stocking on a gyurl's leg +at a dance, I begin to feel like a naygur-man—all fearful an' +timoreous. Give me a pipe an' I'll tell on.'</p> + +<p>He lit a pipe, resumed his grip of his two friends, and rocked to and +fro in a gale of laughter.</p> + +<p>'Mulvaney,' said Ortheris sternly, ''taint no time for laughin'. +You've given Jock an' me more trouble than you're worth. You 'ave been +absent without leave an' you'll go into cells for that; an' you 'ave +come back disgustin'ly dressed an' most improper in the linin' o' that +bloomin' palanquin. Instid of which you laugh. An' <i>we</i> thought you +was dead all the time.'</p> + +<p>'Bhoys,' said the culprit, still shaking gently, 'whin I've done my +tale you may cry if you like, an' little Orth'ris here can thrample my +inside out. Ha' done an' listen. My performinces have been stupenjus: +my luck has been the blessed luck av the British Army—an' there's no +betther than that. I went out dhrunk an' dhrinkin' in the palanquin, +and I have come back a pink god. Did any of you go to Dearsley afther +my time was up? He was at the bottom of ut all.'</p> + +<p>'Ah said so,' murmured Learoyd. 'To-morrow ah'll smash t' face in upon +his heead.'</p> + +<p>'Ye will not. Dearsley's a jool av a man. Afther Ortheris had put me +into the palanquin an' the six bearer-men were gruntin' down the +road, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>I tuk thought to mock Dearsley for that fight. So I tould thim, +"Go to the embankmint," and there, bein' most amazin' full, I shtuck +my head out av the concern an' passed compliments wid Dearsley. I must +ha' miscalled him outrageous, for whin I am that way the power av the +tongue comes on me. I can bare remimber tellin' him that his mouth +opened endways like the mouth av a skate, which was thrue afther +Learoyd had handled ut; an' I clear remimber his takin' no manner nor +matter av offence, but givin' me a big dhrink of beer. 'Twas the beer +did the thrick, for I crawled back into the palanquin, steppin' on me +right ear wid me left foot, an' thin I slept like the dead. Wanst I +half roused, an' begad the noise in my head was tremenjus—roarin' and +rattlin' an' poundin', such as was quite new to me. "Mother av Mercy," +thinks I, "phwat a concertina I will have on my shoulders whin I +wake!" An' wid that I curls mysilf up to sleep before ut should get +hould on me. Bhoys, that noise was not dhrink, 'twas the rattle av a +thrain!'</p> + +<p>There followed an impressive pause.</p> + +<p>'Yes, he had put me on a thrain—put me palanquin an' all, an' six +black assassins av his own coolies that was in his nefarious +confidence, on the flat av a ballast-thruck, and we were rowlin' an' +bowlin' along to Benares. Glory be that I did not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>wake up thin an' +introjuce mysilf to the coolies. As I was sayin' I slept for the +betther part av a day an' a night. But remimber you, that that man +Dearsley had packed me off on wan av his material-thrains to Benares, +all for to make me overstay my leave an' get me into the cells.'</p> + +<p>The explanation was an eminently rational one. Benares lay at least +ten hours by rail from the cantonments, and nothing in the world could +have saved Mulvaney from arrest as a deserter had he appeared there in +the apparel of his orgies. Dearsley had not forgotten to take revenge. +Learoyd, drawing back a little, began to play soft blows over selected +portions of Mulvaney's body. His thoughts were away on the embankment, +and they meditated evil for Dearsley. Mulvaney continued:—</p> + +<p>'Whin I was full awake the palanquin was set down in a street, I +suspicioned, for I cud hear people passin' an' talkin'. But I knew +well I was far from home. There is a queer smell upon our +cantonments—a smell av dried earth and brick-kilns wid whiffs av +cavalry stable-litter. This place smelt marigold flowers an' bad +water, an' wanst somethin' alive came an' blew heavy with his muzzle +at the chink av the shutter. "It's in a village I am," thinks I to +mysilf, "an' the parochial buffalo is investigatin' the palanquin." +But anyways I had no desire to move. Only lie still whin you're in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>foreign parts an' the standin' luck av the British Army will carry ye +through. That is an epigram. I made ut.</p> + +<p>'Thin a lot av whishperin' divils surrounded the palanquin. "Take ut +up," sez wan man. "But who'll pay us?" sez another. "The Maharanee's +minister, av coorse," sez the man. "Oho!" sez I to mysilf, "I'm a +quane in me own right, wid a minister to pay me expenses. I'll be an +emperor if I lie still long enough; but this is no village I've +found." I lay quiet, but I gummed me right eye to a crack av the +shutters, an' I saw that the whole street was crammed wid palanquins +an' horses, an' a sprinklin' av naked priests all yellow powder an' +tigers' tails. But I may tell you, Orth'ris an' you, Learoyd, that av +all the palanquins ours was the most imperial an' magnificent. Now a +palanquin means a native lady all the world over, except whin a +soldier av the quane happens to be takin' a ride. "Women an' priests!" +sez I. "Your father's son is in the right pew this time, Terence. +There will be proceedin's." Six black divils in pink muslin tuk up the +palanquin, an' oh! but the rowlin' an' the rockin' made me sick. Thin +we got fair jammed among the palanquins—not more than fifty av +them—an' we grated an' bumped like Queenstown potato-smacks in a +runnin' tide. I cud hear the women gigglin' and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>squirkin' in their +palanquins, but mine was the royal equipage. They made way for ut, +an', begad, the pink muslin men o' mine were howlin', "Room for the +Maharanee av Gokral-Seetarun." Do you know aught av the lady, Sorr?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said I. 'She is a very estimable old queen of the Central +Indian States, and they say she is fat. How on earth could she go to +Benares without all the city knowing her palanquin?'</p> + +<p>''Twas the eternal foolishness av the naygur-man. They saw the +palanquin lying loneful an' forlornsome, an' the beauty av ut, after +Dearsley's men had dhropped ut and gone away, an' they gave ut the +best name that occurred to thim. Quite right too. For aught we know +the ould lady was thravellin' <i>incog</i>—like me. I'm glad to hear she's +fat. I was no light weight mysilf, an' my men were mortial anxious to +dhrop me under a great big archway promiscuously ornamented wid the +most improper carvin's an' cuttin's I iver saw. Begad! they made me +blush—like a—like a Maharanee.'</p> + +<p>'The temple of Prithi-Devi,' I murmured, remembering the monstrous +horrors of that sculptured archway at Benares.</p> + +<p>'Pretty Devilskins, savin' your presence, Sorr! There was nothin' +pretty about ut, except me. 'Twas all half dhark, an' whin the coolies +left they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>shut a big black gate behind av us, an' half a company av +fat yellow priests began pully-haulin' the palanquins into a dharker +place yet—a big stone hall full av pillars, an' gods, an' incense, +an' all manner av similar thruck. The gate disconcerted me, for I +perceived I wud have to go forward to get out, my retreat bein' cut +off. By the same token a good priest makes a bad palanquin-coolie. +Begad! they nearly turned me inside out draggin' the palanquin to the +temple. Now the disposishin av the forces inside was this way. The +Maharanee av Gokral-Seetarun—that was me—lay by the favour av +Providence on the far left flank behind the dhark av a pillar carved +with elephints' heads. The remainder av the palanquins was in a big +half circle facing in to the biggest, fattest, an' most amazin' +she-god that iver I dreamed av. Her head ran up into the black above +us, an' her feet stuck out in the light av a little fire av melted +butter that a priest was feedin' out av a butter-dish. Thin a man +began to sing an' play on somethin' back in the dhark, an' 'twas a +queer song. Ut made my hair lift on the back av my neck. Thin the +doors av all the palanquins slid back, an' the women bundled out. I +saw what I'll niver see again. 'Twas more glorious than +thransformations at a pantomime, for they was in pink an' blue an' +silver an' red an' grass green, wid dimonds an' imralds an' great red +rubies all over <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>thim. But that was the least part av the glory. O +bhoys, they were more lovely than the like av any loveliness in hiven; +ay, their little bare feet were better than the white hands av a +lord's lady, an' their mouths were like puckered roses, an' their eyes +were bigger an' dharker than the eyes av any livin' women I've seen. +Ye may laugh, but I'm speakin' truth. I niver saw the like, an' niver +I will again.'</p> + +<p>'Seeing that in all probability you were watching the wives and +daughters of most of the kings of India, the chances are that you +won't,' I said, for it was dawning on me that Mulvaney had stumbled +upon a big Queens' Praying at Benares.</p> + +<p>'I niver will,' he said mournfully. 'That sight doesn't come twist to +any man. It made me ashamed to watch. A fat priest knocked at my door. +I didn't think he'd have the insolince to disturb the Maharanee av +Gokral-Seetarun, so I lay still. "The old cow's asleep," sez he to +another. "Let her be," sez that. "'Twill be long before she has a +calf!" I might ha' known before he spoke that all a woman prays for in +Injia—an' for matter o' that in England too—is childher. That made +me more sorry I'd come, me bein', as you well know, a childless man.'</p> + +<p>He was silent for a moment, thinking of his little son, dead many +years ago.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>'They prayed, an' the butter-fires blazed up an' the incense turned +everything blue, an' between that an' the fires the women looked as +tho' they were all ablaze an' twinklin'. They took hold av the +she-god's knees, they cried out an' they threw themselves about, an' +that world-without-end-amen music was dhrivin' thim mad. Mother av +Hiven! how they cried, an' the ould she-god grinnin' above thim all so +scornful! The dhrink was dyin' out in me fast, an' I was thinkin' +harder than the thoughts wud go through my head—thinkin' how to get +out, an' all manner of nonsense as well. The women were rockin' in +rows, their di'mond belts clickin', an' the tears runnin' out betune +their hands, an' the lights were goin' lower an' dharker. Thin there +was a blaze like lightnin' from the roof, an' that showed me the +inside av the palanquin, an' at the end where my foot was, stood the +livin' spit an' image o' mysilf worked on the linin'. This man here, +ut was.'</p> + +<p>He hunted in the folds of his pink cloak, ran a hand under one, and +thrust into the firelight a foot-long embroidered presentment of the +great god Krishna, playing on a flute. The heavy jowl, the staring +eye, and the blue-black moustache of the god made up a far-off +resemblance to Mulvaney.</p> + +<p>'The blaze was gone in a wink, but the whole <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>schame came to me thin. +I believe I was mad too. I slid the off-shutter open an' rowled out +into the dhark behind the elephint-head pillar, tucked up my trousies +to my knees, slipped off my boots an' tuk a general hould av all the +pink linin' av the palanquin. Glory be, ut ripped out like a woman's +dhriss when you tread on ut at a sergeants' ball, an' a bottle came +with ut. I tuk the bottle an' the next minut I was out av the dhark av +the pillar, the pink linin' wrapped round me most graceful, the music +thunderin' like kettledrums, an' a could draft blowin' round my bare +legs. By this hand that did ut, I was Krishna tootlin' on the +flute—the god that the rig'mental chaplain talks about. A sweet sight +I must ha' looked. I knew my eyes were big, and my face was wax-white, +an' at the worst I must ha' looked like a ghost. But they took me for +the livin' god. The music stopped, and the women were dead dumb, an' I +crooked my legs like a shepherd on a china basin, an' I did the +ghost-waggle with my feet as I had done ut at the rig'mental theatre +many times, an' I slid acrost the width av that temple in front av the +she-god tootlin' on the beer bottle.'</p> + +<p>'Wot did you toot?' demanded Ortheris the practical.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep176" id="imagep176"></a> +<a href="images/imagep176.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep176.jpg" width="50%" alt="I was Krishna tootlin' on the flute" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">I was Krishna tootlin' on the flute.'—<span class="sc">P. +176.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'Me? Oh!' Mulvaney sprang up, suiting the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>action to the word, and +sliding gravely in front of us, a dilapidated but imposing deity in +the half light. 'I sang—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Only say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Don't say nay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charmin' Judy Callaghan.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="noin">I didn't know me own voice when I sang. An' oh! 'twas pitiful to see +the women. The darlin's were down on their faces. Whin I passed the +last wan I cud see her poor little fingers workin' one in another as +if she wanted to touch my feet. So I dhrew the tail av this pink +overcoat over her head for the greater honour, an' I slid into the +dhark on the other side av the temple, and fetched up in the arms av a +big fat priest. All I wanted was to get away clear. So I tuk him by +his greasy throat an' shut the speech out av him. "Out!" sez I. "Which +way, ye fat heathen?"—"Oh!" sez he. "Man," sez I. "White man, soldier +man, common soldier man. Where in the name av confusion is the back +door?" The women in the temple were still on their faces, an' a young +priest was holdin' out his arms above their heads.</p> + +<p>'"This way," sez my fat friend, duckin' behind a big bull-god an' +divin' into a passage. Thin I remimbered that I must ha' made the +miraculous <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>reputation av that temple for the next fifty years. "Not +so fast," I sez, an' I held out both my hands wid a wink. That ould +thief smiled like a father. I tuk him by the back av the neck in case +he should be wishful to put a knife into me unbeknowst, an' I ran him +up an' down the passage twice to collect his sensibilities! "Be +quiet," sez he, in English. "Now you talk sense," I sez. "Fwhat'll you +give me for the use av that most iligant palanquin I have no time to +take away?"—"Don't tell," sez he. "Is ut like?" sez I. "But ye might +give me my railway fare. I'm far from my home an' I've done you a +service." Bhoys, 'tis a good thing to be a priest. The ould man niver +throubled himself to dhraw from a bank. As I will prove to you +subsequint, he philandered all round the slack av his clothes an' +began dribblin' ten-rupee notes, old gold mohurs, and rupees into my +hand till I could hould no more.'</p> + +<p>'You lie!' said Ortheris. 'You're mad or sunstrook. A native don't +give coin unless you cut it out o' 'im. 'Tain't nature.'</p> + +<p>'Then my lie an' my sunstroke is concealed under that lump av sod +yonder,' retorted Mulvaney unruffled, nodding across the scrub. 'An' +there's a dale more in nature than your squidgy little legs have iver +taken you to, Orth'ris, me son. Four <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>hundred an' thirty-four rupees +by my reckonin', <i>an'</i> a big fat gold necklace that I took from him as +a remimbrancer, was our share in that business.'</p> + +<p>'An' 'e give it you for love?' said Ortheris.</p> + +<p>'We were alone in that passage. Maybe I was a trifle too pressin', but +considher fwhat I had done for the good av the temple and the +iverlastin' joy av those women. 'Twas cheap at the price. I wud ha' +taken more if I cud ha' found 'ut. I turned the ould man upside down +at the last, but he was milked dhry. Thin he opened a door in another +passage an' I found mysilf up to my knees in Benares river-water, an' +bad smellin' ut is. More by token I had come out on the river-line +close to the burnin' ghat and contagious to a cracklin' corpse. This +was in the heart av the night, for I had been four hours in the +temple. There was a crowd av boats tied up, so I tuk wan an' wint +across the river. Thin I came home acrost country, lyin' up by day.'</p> + +<p>'How on earth did you manage?' I said.</p> + +<p>'How did Sir Frederick Roberts get from Cabul to Candahar? He marched +an' he niver tould how near he was to breakin' down. That's why he is +fwhat he is. An' now——' Mulvaney yawned portentously. 'Now I will go +an' give myself up for absince widout leave. It's eight-an'-twenty +days an' the rough end of the Colonel's tongue in orderly-room, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>any +way you look at ut. But 'tis cheap at the price.'</p> + +<p>'Mulvaney,' said I softly. 'If there happens to be any sort of excuse +that the Colonel can in any way accept, I have a notion that you'll +get nothing more than the dressing-down. The new recruits are in, +and——'</p> + +<p>'Not a word more, Sorr. Is ut excuses the old man wants? 'Tis not my +way, but he shall have thim. I'll tell him I was engaged in financial +operations connected wid a church,' and he flapped his way to +cantonments and the cells, singing lustily:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'So they sent a corp'ril's file,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they put me in the gyard-room<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For conduck unbecomin' of a soldier.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="noin">And when he was lost in the mist of the moonlight we could hear the +refrain:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Bang upon the big drum, bash upon the cymbals,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As we go marchin' along, boys, oh!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For although in this campaign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's no whisky nor champagne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll keep our spirits goin' with a song, boys!'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Therewith he surrendered himself to the joyful and almost weeping +guard, and was made much of by his fellows. But to the Colonel he said +that he had been smitten with sunstroke and had lain <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>insensible on a +villager's cot for untold hours; and between laughter and good-will +the affair was smoothed over, so that he could, next day, teach the +new recruits how to 'Fear God, Honour the Queen, Shoot Straight, and +Keep Clean.'</p> + +<br /> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep181.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep181.jpg" width="35%" alt="End of Chapter Illustration" /></a> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="TAKING_OF_LUNGTUNGPEN" id="TAKING_OF_LUNGTUNGPEN"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span><br /> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep182.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep182.jpg" width="65%" alt="THE TAKING OF LUNGTUNGPEN" /></a> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>THE TAKING OF LUNGTUNGPEN<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So we loosed a bloomin' volley,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An' we made the beggars cut,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' when our pouch was emptied out,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We used the bloomin' butt,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ho! My!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Don't yer come anigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Tommy is a playin' with the baynit an' the butt.<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Barrack Room Ballad.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<br /> + + +<p>My friend Private Mulvaney told me this, sitting on the parapet of the +road to Dagshai, when we were hunting butterflies together. He had +theories about the Army, and coloured clay pipes perfectly. He said +that the young soldier is the best to work with, 'on account av the +surpassing innocinse av the child.'</p> + +<p>'Now, listen!' said Mulvaney, throwing himself full length on the wall +in the sun. 'I'm a born scutt av the barrick-room! The Army's mate an' +dhrink to me, bekaze I'm wan av the few that can't quit ut. I've put +in sivinteen years, an' the pipeclay's in the marrow av me. Av I cud +have kept out av wan big dhrink a month, I wud have been a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>Hon'ry +Lift'nint by this time—a nuisince to my betthers, a laughin'-shtock +to my equils, an' a curse to meself. Bein' fwhat I am, I'm Privit +Mulvaney, wid no good-conduc' pay an' a devourin' thirst. Always +barrin' me little frind Bobs Bahadur, I know as much about the Army as +most men.'</p> + +<p>I said something here.</p> + +<p>'Wolseley be shot! Betune you an' me an' that butterfly net, he's a +ramblin', incoherint sort av a divil, wid wan oi on the Quane an' the +Coort, an' the other on his blessed silf—everlastin'ly playing Saysar +an' Alexandrier rowled into a lump. Now Bobs is a sensible little man. +Wid Bobs an' a few three-year-olds, I'd swape any army av the earth +into a towel, an' throw it away aftherwards. Faith, I'm not jokin'! +'Tis the bhoys—the raw bhoys—that don't know fwhat a bullut manes, +an' wudn't care av they did—that dhu the work. They're crammed wid +bull-mate till they fairly <i>ramps</i> wid good livin'; and thin, av they +don't fight, they blow each other's hids off. 'Tis the trut' I'm +tellin' you. They shud be kept on water an' rice in the hot weather; +but there'd be a mut'ny av 'twas done.</p> + +<p>'Did ye iver hear how Privit Mulvaney tuk the town av Lungtungpen? I +thought not! 'Twas the Lift'nint got the credit; but 'twas me planned +the schame. A little before I was inviladed from Burma, me an' +four-an'-twenty young wans undher a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>Lift'nint Brazenose was ruinin' +our dijeshins thryin' to catch dacoits. An' such double-ended divils I +niver knew! 'Tis only a <i>dah</i> an' a Snider that makes a dacoit. Widout +thim, he's a paceful cultivator, an' felony for to shoot. We hunted, +an' we hunted, an' tuk fever an' elephints now an' again; but no +dacoits. Evenshually, we <i>puckarowed</i> wan man. "Trate him tinderly," +sez the Lift'nint. So I tuk him away into the jungle, wid the Burmese +Interprut'r an' my clanin'-rod. Sez I to the man, "My paceful +squireen," sez I, "you shquot on your hunkers an' dimonstrate to <i>my</i> +frind here, where <i>your</i> frinds are whin they're at home?" Wid that I +introjuced him to the clanin'-rod, an' he comminst to jabber; the +Interprut'r interprutin' in betweens, an' me helpin' the Intilligince +Departmint wid my clanin'-rod whin the man misremimbered.</p> + +<p>'Prisintly, I learn that, acrost the river, about nine miles away, was +a town just dhrippin' wid dahs, an' bohs an' arrows, an' dacoits, an' +elephints, an' <i>jingles</i>. "Good!" sez I; "this office will now close!"</p> + +<p>'That night, I went to the Lift'nint an' communicates my information. +I never thought much of Lift'nint Brazenose till that night. He was +shtiff wid books an' the-ouries, an' all manner av thrimmin's no +manner av use. "Town did ye say?" sez he. "Accordin' to the-ouries av +War, we shud wait for reinforcemints."—"Faith!" thinks I, "we'd +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>betther dig our graves thin"; for the nearest throops was up to their +shtocks in the marshes out Mimbu way. "But," says the Lift'nint, +"since 'tis a speshil case, I'll make an excepshin. We'll visit this +Lungtungpen to-night."</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep185" id="imagep185"></a> +<a href="images/imagep185.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep185.jpg" width="50%" alt="Shtrip, bhoys" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">'"Shtrip, bhoys," sez I. "Shtrip to the buff, an' shwim +in where glory waits!"'—<span class="fakesc">P. 185.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'The bhoys was fairly woild wid deloight whin I tould 'em; an', by +this an' that, they wint through the jungle like buck-rabbits. About +midnight we come to the shtrame which I had clane forgot to minshin to +my orficer. I was on, ahead, wid four bhoys, an' I thought that the +Lift'nint might want to the-ourise. "Shtrip, bhoys," sez I. "Shtrip to +the buff, an' shwim in where glory waits!"—"But I <i>can't</i> shwim!" sez +two av thim. "To think I should live to hear that from a bhoy wid a +board-school edukashin!" sez I. "Take a lump av thimber, an' me an' +Conolly here will ferry ye over, ye young ladies!"</p> + +<p>'We got an ould tree-trunk, an' pushed off wid the kits an' the rifles +on it. The night was chokin' dhark, an' just as we was fairly +embarked, I heard the Lift'nint behind av me callin' out. "There's a +bit av a <i>nullah</i> here, Sorr," sez I, "but I can feel the bottom +already." So I cud, for I was not a yard from the bank."</p> + +<p>'"Bit av a <i>nullah</i>! Bit av an eshtuary!" sez the Lift'nint. "Go on, +ye mad Irishman! Shtrip, bhoys!" I heard him laugh; an' the bhoys +began shtrippin' an' rollin' a log into the wather to put their kits +on. So me an' Conolly shtruck out through <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>the warm wather wid our +log, an' the rest come on behind.</p> + +<p>'That shtrame was miles woide! Orth'ris, on the rear-rank log, +whispers we had got into the Thames below Sheerness by mistake. "Kape +on shwimmin', ye little blayguard," sez I, "an' don't go pokin' your +dirty jokes at the Irriwaddy."—"Silince, men!" sings out the +Lift'nint. So we shwum on into the black dhark, wid our chests on the +logs, trustin' in the Saints an' the luck av the British Army.</p> + +<p>'Evenshually, we hit ground—a bit av sand—an' a man. I put my heel +on the back av him. He skreeched an' ran.</p> + +<p>'"<i>Now</i> we've done it!" sez Lift'nint Brazenose. "Where the Divil <i>is</i> +Lungtungpen?" There was about a minute and a half to wait. The bhoys +laid a hould av their rifles an' some thried to put their belts on; we +was marchin' wid fixed baynits av coorse. Thin we knew where +Lungtungpen was; for we had hit the river-wall av it in the dhark, an' +the whole town blazed wid thim messin' <i>jingles</i> an' Sniders like a +cat's back on a frosty night. They was firin' all ways at wanst; but +over our hids into the shtrame.</p> + +<p>'"Have you got your rifles?" sez Brazenose. "Got 'em!" sez Orth'ris. +"I've got that thief Mulvaney's for all my back-pay, an' she'll kick +my heart sick wid that blunderin' long shtock av hers."—"Go on!" +yells Brazenose, whippin' his sword out. "Go <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>on an' take the town! +An' the Lord have mercy on our sowls!"</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep187" id="imagep187"></a> +<a href="images/imagep187.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep187.jpg" width="50%" alt="There was a melly..." /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">'There was a <i>melly</i> av a sumpshus kind for a +whoile.'—<span class="fakesc">P. 187.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'Thin the bhoys gave wan divastatin' howl, an' pranced into the dhark, +feelin' for the town, an' blindin' an' stiffin' like Cavalry Ridin' +Masters whin the grass pricked their bare legs. I hammered wid the +butt at some bamboo-thing that felt wake, an' the rest come an' +hammered contagious, while the <i>jingles</i> was jingling, an' feroshus +yells from inside was shplittin' our ears. We was too close under the +wall for thim to hurt us.</p> + +<p>'Evenshually, the thing, whatever ut was, bruk; an' the six-and-twinty +av us tumbled, wan after the other, naked as we was borrun, into the +town of Lungtungpen. There was a <i>melly</i> av a sumpshus kind for a +whoile; but whether they tuk us, all white an' wet, for a new breed av +divil, or a new kind av dacoit, I don't know. They ran as though we +was both, an' we wint into thim, baynit an' butt, shriekin' wid +laughin'. There was torches in the shtreets, an' I saw little Orth'ris +rubbin' his showlther ivry time he loosed my long-shtock Martini; an' +Brazenose walkin' into the gang wid his sword, like Diarmid av the +Gowlden Collar—barring he hadn't a stitch av clothin' on him. We +diskivered elephints wid dacoits under their bellies, an', what wid +wan thing an' another, we was busy till mornin' takin' possession av +the town of Lungtungpen.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>'Thin we halted an' formed up, the wimmen howlin' in the houses an' +Lift'nint Brazenose blushin' pink in the light av the mornin' sun. +'Twas the most ondasint p'rade I iver tuk a hand in. Foive-and-twenty +privits an' an orficer av the Line in review ordher, an' not as much +as wud dust a fife betune 'em all in the way of clothin'! Eight av us +had their belts an' pouches on; but the rest had gone in wid a handful +av cartridges an' the skin God gave thim. <i>They</i> was as nakid as +Vanus.</p> + +<p>'"Number off from the right!" sez the Lift'nint. "Odd numbers fall out +to dress; even numbers pathrol the town till relieved by the dressing +party." Let me tell you, pathrollin' a town wid nothing on is an +ex<i>pay</i>rience. I pathrolled for tin minutes, an' begad, before 'twas +over, I blushed. The women laughed so. I niver blushed before or +since; but I blushed all over my carkiss thin. Orth'ris didn't +pathrol. He sez only, "Portsmith Barricks an' the 'Aard av a Sunday!" +Thin he lay down an' rowled any ways wid laughin'.</p> + +<p>'Whin we was all dhressed, we counted the dead—sivinty-foive dacoits +besides wounded. We tuk five elephints, a hunder' an' sivinty Sniders, +two hunder' dahs, and a lot av other burglarious thruck. Not a man av +us was hurt—excep' maybe the Lift'nint, an' he from the shock to his +dasincy.</p> + +<p>'The Headman av Lungtungpen, who surrinder'd <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>himself, asked the +Interprut'r—"Av the English fight like that wid their clo'es off, +what in the wurruld do they do wid their clo'es on?" Orth'ris began +rowlin' his eyes an' crackin' his fingers an' dancin' a step-dance for +to impress the Headman. He ran to his house; an' we spint the rest av +the day carryin' the Lift'nint on our showlthers round the town, an' +playin' wid the Burmese babies—fat, little, brown little divils, as +pretty as picturs.</p> + +<p>'Whin I was inviladed for the dysent'ry to India, I sez to the +Lift'nint, "Sorr," sez I, "you've the makin's in you av a great man; +but, av you'll let an ould sodger spake, you're too fond of +the-ourisin'." He shuk hands wid me and sez, "Hit high, hit low, +there's no plasin' you, Mulvaney. You've seen me waltzin' through +Lungtungpen like a Red Injin widout the war-paint, an' you say I'm too +fond av the-ourisin'?"—"Sorr," sez I, for I loved the bhoy; "I wud +waltz wid you in that condishin through <i>Hell</i>, an' so wud the rest av +the men!" Thin I wint downshtrame in the flat an' left him my +blessin'. May the Saints carry ut where ut should go, for he was a +fine upstandin' young orficer.</p> + +<p>'To reshume. Fwhat I've said jist shows the use av three-year-olds. +Wud fifty seasoned sodgers have taken Lungtungpen in the dhark that +way? No! They'd know the risk av fever and chill. Let alone the +shootin'. Two hundher' might have done ut. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>But the three-year-olds +know little an' care less; an' where there's no fear, there's no +danger. Catch thim young, feed thim high, an' by the honour av that +great little man Bobs, behind a good orficer 'tisn't only dacoits +they'd smash wid their clo'es off—'tis Con-ti-nental Ar-r-r-mies! +They tuk Lungtungpen nakid; an' they'd take St. Pethersburg in their +dhrawers! Begad, they would that!</p> + +<p>'Here's your pipe, Sorr. Shmoke her tinderly wid honey-dew, afther +letting the reek av the Canteen plug die away. But 'tis no good, +thanks to you all the same, fillin' my pouch wid your chopped hay. +Canteen baccy's like the Army. It shpoils a man's taste for moilder +things.'</p> + +<p>So saying, Mulvaney took up his butterfly-net, and returned to +barracks.</p> + +<br /> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep190.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep190.jpg" width="35%" alt="End of Chapter Illustration" /></a> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="PRIVATE_ORTHERIS" id="PRIVATE_ORTHERIS"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span><br /> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep191.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep191.jpg" width="65%" alt="THE MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS" /></a> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>THE MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! Where would I be when my froat was dry?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! Where would I be when the bullets fly?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! Where would I be when I come to die?<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Why,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Somewheres anigh my chum.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If 'e's liquor 'e'll give me some,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If I'm dyin' 'e'll 'old my 'ead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' 'e'll write 'em 'Ome when I'm dead.—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gawd send us a trusty chum!<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Barrack Room Ballad.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<br /> + +<p>My friends Mulvaney and Ortheris had gone on a shooting expedition for +one day. Learoyd was still in hospital, recovering from fever picked +up in Burma. They sent me an invitation to join them, and were +genuinely pained when I brought beer—almost enough beer to satisfy +two Privates of the Line—and Me.</p> + +<p>''Twasn't for that we bid you welkim, Sorr,' said Mulvaney sulkily. +''Twas for the pleasure av your comp'ny.'</p> + +<p>Ortheris came to the rescue with—'Well, 'e <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>won't be none the worse +for bringin' liquor with 'im. We ain't a file o' Dooks. We're bloomin' +Tommies, ye cantankris Hirishman; an' 'ere's your very good 'ealth!'</p> + +<p>We shot all the forenoon, and killed two pariah-dogs, four green +parrots, sitting, one kite by the burning-ghaut, one snake flying, one +mud-turtle, and eight crows. Game was plentiful. Then we sat down to +tiffin—'bull-mate an' bran bread,' Mulvaney called it—by the side of +the river, and took pot shots at the crocodiles in the intervals of +cutting up the food with our only pocket-knife. Then we drank up all +the beer, and threw the bottles into the water and fired at them. +After that, we eased belts and stretched ourselves on the warm sand +and smoked. We were too lazy to continue shooting.</p> + +<p>Ortheris heaved a big sigh, as he lay on his stomach with his head +between his fists. Then he swore quietly into the blue sky.</p> + +<p>'Fwhat's that for?' said Mulvaney. 'Have ye not drunk enough?'</p> + +<p>'Tott'nim Court Road, an' a gal I fancied there. Wot's the good of +sodgerin'?'</p> + +<p>'Orth'ris, me son,' said Mulvaney hastily, ''tis more than likely +you've got throuble in your inside wid the beer. I feel that way +mesilf whin my liver gets rusty.'</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep192" id="imagep192"></a> +<a href="images/imagep192.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep192.jpg" width="50%" alt="Ortheris heaved a big sigh" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Ortheris heaved a big sigh.—<span class="fakesc">P. 192.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>Ortheris went on slowly, not heeding the interruption:—</p> + +<p>'I'm a Tommy—a bloomin', eight-anna, dog-stealin' Tommy, with a +number instead of a decent name. Wot's the good o' me? If I 'ad a +stayed at 'Ome, I might a married that gal and a kep' a little shorp +in the 'Ammersmith 'Igh.—"S. Orth'ris, Prac-ti-cal Taxi-der-mist." +With a stuff' fox, like they 'as in the Haylesbury Dairies, in the +winder, an' a little case of blue and yaller glass-heyes, an' a little +wife to call "shorp!" "shorp!" when the door-bell rung. As it <i>his</i>, +I'm on'y a Tommy—a Bloomin' Gawd-forsaken Beer-swillin' Tommy. "Rest +on your harms—<i>'versed</i>. Stan' at—<i>hease</i>; <i>'shun</i>. 'Verse—<i>harms</i>. +Right an' lef'—<i>tarrn</i>. Slow—<i>march</i>. 'Alt—<i>front</i>. Rest on your +harms—<i>'versed</i>. With blank-cartridge—<i>load</i>." An' that's the end o' +me.' He was quoting fragments from Funeral Parties' Orders.</p> + +<p>'Stop ut!' shouted Mulvaney. 'Whin you've fired into nothin' as often +as me, over a better man than yoursilf, you will not make a mock av +thim orders. 'Tis worse than whistlin' the <i>Dead March</i> in barricks. +An' you full as a tick, an' the sun cool, an' all an' all! I take +shame for you. You're no better than a Pagin—you an' your +firin'-parties an' your glass-eyes. Won't <i>you</i> stop ut, Sorr?'</p> + +<p>What could I do? Could I tell Ortheris <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>anything that he did not know +of the pleasures of his life? I was not a Chaplain nor a Subaltern, +and Ortheris had a right to speak as he thought fit.</p> + +<p>'Let him run, Mulvaney,' I said. 'It's the beer.'</p> + +<p>'No! 'Tisn't the beer,' said Mulvaney. 'I know fwhat's comin'. He's +tuk this way now an' agin, an' it's bad—it's bad—for I'm fond av the +bhoy.'</p> + +<p>Indeed, Mulvaney seemed needlessly anxious; but I knew that he looked +after Ortheris in a fatherly way.</p> + +<p>'Let me talk, let me talk,' said Ortheris dreamily. 'D'you stop your +parrit screamin' of a 'ot day when the cage is a-cookin' 'is pore +little pink toes orf, Mulvaney?'</p> + +<p>'Pink toes! D'ye mane to say you've pink toes undher your bullswools, +ye blandanderin','—Mulvaney gathered himself together for a terrific +denunciation—'school-misthress! Pink toes! How much Bass wid the +label did that ravin' child dhrink?'</p> + +<p>''Tain't Bass,' said Ortheris. 'It's a bitterer beer nor that. It's +'ome-sickness!'</p> + +<p>'Hark to him! An' he goin' Home in the <i>Sherapis</i> in the inside av +four months!'</p> + +<p>'I don't care. It's all one to me. 'Ow d'you know I ain't 'fraid o' +dyin' 'fore I gets my discharge paipers?' He recommenced, in a +sing-song voice, the Orders.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>I had never seen this side of Ortheris's character before, but +evidently Mulvaney had, and attached serious importance to it. While +Ortheris babbled, with his head on his arms, Mulvaney whispered to +me:—</p> + +<p>'He's always tuk this way whin he's been checked overmuch by the +childher they make Sarjints nowadays. That an' havin' nothin' to do. I +can't make ut out anyways.'</p> + +<p>'Well, what does it matter? Let him talk himself through.'</p> + +<p>Ortheris began singing a parody of <i>The Ramrod Corps</i>, full of +cheerful allusions to battle, murder, and sudden death. He looked out +across the river as he sang; and his face was quite strange to me. +Mulvaney caught me by the elbow to ensure attention.</p> + +<p>'Matther? It matthers everything! 'Tis some sort av fit that's on him. +I've seen ut. 'Twill hould him all this night, an' in the middle av it +he'll get out av his cot an' go rakin' in the rack for his +'courtremints. Thin he'll come over to me an' say, "I'm goin' to +Bombay. Answer for me in the mornin'." Thin me an' him will fight as +we've done before—him to go an' me to hould him—an' so we'll both +come on the books for disturbin' in barricks. I've belted him, an' +I've bruk his head, an' I've talked to him, but 'tis no manner av use +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>whin the fit's on him. He's as good a bhoy as ever stepped whin his +mind's clear. I know fwhat's comin', though, this night in barricks. +Lord send he doesn't loose on me whin I rise to knock him down. 'Tis +that that's in my mind day an' night.'</p> + +<p>This put the case in a much less pleasant light, and fully accounted +for Mulvaney's anxiety. He seemed to be trying to coax Ortheris out of +the fit; for he shouted down the bank where the boy was lying:—</p> + +<p>'Listen now, you wid the "pore pink toes" an' the glass-eyes! Did you +shwim the Irriwaddy at night, behin' me, as a bhoy shud; or were you +hidin' under a bed, as you was at Ahmid Kheyl?'</p> + +<p>This was at once a gross insult and a direct lie, and Mulvaney meant +it to bring on a fight. But Ortheris seemed shut up in some sort of +trance. He answered slowly, without a sign of irritation, in the same +cadenced voice as he had used for his firing-party orders:—</p> + +<p>'<i>Hi</i> swum the Irriwaddy in the night, as you know, for to take the +town of Lungtungpen, nakid an' without fear. <i>Hand</i> where I was at +Ahmed Kheyl you know, and four bloomin' Paythans know too. But that +was summat to do, an' I didn't think o' dyin'. Now I'm sick to go +'Ome—go 'Ome—go 'Ome! No, I ain't mammysick, because my uncle brung +me up, but I'm sick for London again; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>sick for the sounds of 'er, an' +the sights of 'er, and the stinks of 'er; orange-peel and hasphalte +an' gas comin' in over Vaux'all Bridge. Sick for the rail goin' down +to Box 'Ill, with your gal on your knee an' a new clay pipe in your +face. That, an' the Stran' lights where you knows ev'ry one, an' the +Copper that takes you up is a old friend that tuk you up before, when +you was a little, smitchy boy lying loose 'tween the Temple an' the +Dark Harches. No bloomin' guard-mountin', no bloomin' rotten-stone, +nor khaki, an' yourself your own master with a gal to take an' see the +Humaners practisin' a-hookin' dead corpses out of the Serpentine o' +Sundays. An' I lef' all that for to serve the Widder beyond the seas, +where there ain't no women and there ain't no liquor worth 'avin', and +there ain't nothin' to see, nor do, nor say, nor feel, nor think. Lord +love you, Stanley Orth'ris, but you're a bigger bloomin' fool than the +rest o' the reg'ment and Mulvaney wired together! There's the Widder +sittin' at 'Ome with a gold crownd on 'er 'ead; and 'ere am Hi, +Stanley Orth'ris, the Widder's property, a rottin' <span class="sc">FOOL</span>!'</p> + +<p>His voice rose at the end of the sentence, and he wound up with a +six-shot Anglo-Vernacular oath. Mulvaney said nothing, but looked at +me as if he expected that I could bring peace to poor Ortheris's +troubled brain.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>I remembered once at Rawal Pindi having seen a man, nearly mad with +drink, sobered by being made a fool of. Some regiments may know what I +mean. I hoped that we might slake off Ortheris in the same way, though +he was perfectly sober. So I said:—</p> + +<p>'What's the use of grousing there, and speaking against The Widow?'</p> + +<p>'I didn't!' said Ortheris. 'S'elp me, Gawd, I never said a word agin +'er, an' I wouldn't—not if I was to desert this minute!'</p> + +<p>Here was my opening. 'Well, you meant to, anyhow. What's the use of +cracking-on for nothing? Would you slip it now if you got the chance?'</p> + +<p>'On'y try me!' said Ortheris, jumping to his feet as if he had been +stung.</p> + +<p>Mulvaney jumped too. 'Fwhat are you going to do?' said he.</p> + +<p>'Help Ortheris down to Bombay or Karachi, whichever he likes. You can +report that he separated from you before tiffin, and left his gun on +the bank here!'</p> + +<p>'I'm to report that—am I?' said Mulvaney slowly. 'Very well. If +Orth'ris manes to desert now, and will desert now, an' you, Sorr, who +have been a frind to me an' to him, will help him to ut, I, Terence +Mulvaney, on my oath which I've never bruk yet, will report as you +say. But——' <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>here he stepped up to Ortheris, and shook the stock of +the fowling-piece in his face—'your fistes help you, Stanley +Orth'ris, if ever I come across you agin!'</p> + +<p>'I don't care!' said Ortheris. 'I'm sick o' this dorg's life. Give me +a chanst. Don't play with me. Le' me go!'</p> + +<p>'Strip,' said I, 'and change with me, and then I'll tell you what to +do.'</p> + +<p>I hoped that the absurdity of this would check Ortheris; but he had +kicked off his ammunition-boots and got rid of his tunic almost before +I had loosed my shirt-collar. Mulvaney gripped me by the arm:—</p> + +<p>'The fit's on him: the fit's workin' on him still! By my Honour and +Sowl, we shall be accessiry to a desartion yet. Only twenty-eight +days, as you say, Sorr, or fifty-six, but think o' the shame—the +black shame to him an' me!' I had never seen Mulvaney so excited.</p> + +<p>But Ortheris was quite calm, and, as soon as he had exchanged clothes +with me, and I stood up a Private of the Line, he said shortly, 'Now! +Come on. What nex'? D'ye mean fair. What must I do to get out o' this +'ere a-Hell?'</p> + +<p>I told him that, if he would wait for two or three hours near the +river, I would ride into the Station and come back with one hundred +rupees. He would, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>with that money in his pocket, walk to the nearest +side-station on the line, about five miles away, and would there take +a first-class ticket for Karachi. Knowing that he had no money on him +when he went out shooting, his regiment would not immediately wire to +the seaports, but would hunt for him in the native villages near the +river. Further, no one would think of seeking a deserter in a +first-class carriage. At Karachi, he was to buy white clothes and +ship, if he could, on a cargo-steamer.</p> + +<p>Here he broke in. If I helped him to Karachi, he would arrange all the +rest. Then I ordered him to wait where he was until it was dark enough +for me to ride into the station without my dress being noticed. Now +God in His wisdom has made the heart of the British Soldier, who is +very often an unlicked ruffian, as soft as the heart of a little +child, in order that he may believe in and follow his officers into +tight and nasty places. He does not so readily come to believe in a +'civilian,' but, when he does, he believes implicitly and like a dog. +I had had the honour of the friendship of Private Ortheris, at +intervals, for more than three years, and we had dealt with each other +as man by man. Consequently, he considered that all my words were +true, and not spoken lightly.</p> + +<p>Mulvaney and I left him in the high grass near the river-bank, and +went away, still keeping to the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>high grass, towards my horse. The +shirt scratched me horribly.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep201" id="imagep201"></a> +<a href="images/imagep201.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep201.jpg" width="50%" alt="We set off at the double" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">We set off at the double and found him plunging about +wildly through the grass.—<span class="fakesc">P. 201.</span><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>We waited nearly two hours for the dusk to fall and allow me to ride +off. We spoke of Ortheris in whispers, and strained our ears to catch +any sound from the spot where we had left him. But we heard nothing +except the wind in the plume-grass.</p> + +<p>'I've bruk his head,' said Mulvaney earnestly, 'time an' agin. I've +nearly kilt him wid the belt, an' <i>yet</i> I can't knock thim fits out av +his soft head. No! An' he's not soft, for he's reasonable an' likely +by natur'. Fwhat is ut? Is ut his breedin' which is nothin', or his +edukashin which he niver got? You that think ye know things, answer me +that.'</p> + +<p>But I found no answer. I was wondering how long Ortheris, in the bank +of the river, would hold out, and whether I should be forced to help +him to desert, as I had given my word.</p> + +<p>Just as the dusk shut down and, with a very heavy heart, I was +beginning to saddle up my horse, we heard wild shouts from the river.</p> + +<p>The devils had departed from Private Stanley Ortheris, No. 22639, B +company. The loneliness, the dusk, and the waiting had driven them out +as I had hoped. We set off at the double and found him plunging about +wildly through the grass, with his coat off—my coat off, I mean. He +was calling for us like a madman.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>When we reached him he was dripping with perspiration, and trembling +like a startled horse. We had great difficulty in soothing him. He +complained that he was in civilian kit, and wanted to tear my clothes +off his body. I ordered him to strip, and we made a second exchange as +quickly as possible.</p> + +<p>The rasp of his own 'grayback' shirt and the squeak of his boots +seemed to bring him to himself. He put his hands before his eyes and +said:—</p> + +<p>'Wot was it? I ain't mad, I ain't sunstrook, an' I've bin an' gone an' +said, an' bin an' gone an' done—— <i>Wot</i> 'ave I bin an' done!'</p> + +<p>'Fwhat have you done?' said Mulvaney. 'You've dishgraced +yourself—though that's no matter. You've dishgraced B comp'ny, an' +worst av all, you've dishgraced <i>Me</i>! Me that taught you how for to +walk abroad like a man—whin you was a dhirty little, fish-backed +little, whimperin' little recruity. As you are now, Stanley Orth'ris!'</p> + +<p>Ortheris said nothing for a while. Then he unslung his belt, heavy +with the badges of half-a-dozen regiments that his own had lain with, +and handed it over to Mulvaney.</p> + +<p>'I'm too little for to mill you, Mulvaney,' said he, 'an' you've +strook me before; but you can take an' cut me in two with this 'ere if +you like.'</p> + +<p>Mulvaney turned to me.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>'Lave me to talk to him, Sorr,' said Mulvaney.</p> + +<p>I left, and on my way home thought a good deal over Ortheris in +particular, and my friend Private Thomas Atkins, whom I love, in +general.</p> + +<p>But I could not come to any conclusion of any kind whatever.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h4>THE END</h4> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep203.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep203.jpg" width="35%" alt="The End" /></a> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"> +<h4>NEW UNIFORM EDITION OF THE STORIES AND POEMS OF <br />RUDYARD +KIPLING. Seven volumes, 12mo, cloth.</h4> + +<h3>PLAIN TALES FROM THE HILLS.</h3> + +<p class="cen">New Edition. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>"Mr. Kipling knows and appreciates the English in India, and +is a born storyteller and a man of humour into the bargain.... +It would be hard to find better reading."—<i>The Saturday +Review, London.</i></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>THE LIGHT THAT FAILED.</h3> + +<p class="cen">New Edition. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>"'The Light that Failed' is an organic whole—a book with a +backbone—and stands out boldly among the nerveless, flaccid, +invertebrate things that enjoy an expensive but ephemeral +existence in the circulating libraries."—<i>The Athenæum.</i></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>LIFE'S HANDICAP.</h3> + +<h4>STORIES OF MINE OWN PEOPLE.</h4> + +<p class="cen">New Edition. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.</p> + +<div class="block2"> +<p>"No volume of his yet published gives a better illustration of +his genius, and of the weird charm which has given his stories +such deserved popularity."—<i>Boston Daily Traveler.</i></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>THE NAULAHKA.</h3> + +<h4>A Story of East and West.</h4> + +<h4>By RUDYARD KIPLING and WOLCOTT BALESTIER.</h4> + +<p class="cen">12mo, cloth, $1.25.</p> + +<div class="block2"> +<p>"What is the most surprising, and at the same time most +admirable, in this book, is the manner in which Mr. Kipling +seems to grasp the character of the native women; we know of +nothing in the English language of its kind to compare with +Chapter XX. in its delicacy and genuine sympathy."</p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>UNDER THE DEODARS, THE PHANTOM 'RICKSHAW, <br />AND WEE WILLIE +WINKIE.</h3> + +<p class="cen">With additional matter, now published for the first time.<br /> +12mo, cloth, $1.25.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>SOLDIERS THREE, THE STORY OF THE <br />GADSBYS, and BLACK AND WHITE.</h3> + +<p class="cen">Also together with additional matter.<br /> +12mo, cloth, $1.25.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>BALLADS AND BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS.</h3> + +<p class="cen">12mo, cloth, $1.25.</p> + +<div class="block2"> +<p>"Mr. Kipling differs from other ballad-writers of the day in +that he has that rare possession, imagination, and he has the +temerity to speak out what is in him with no conventional +reservations or deference to the hypocrisies of public +opinion."—<i>Boston Beacon.</i></p></div> + +<br /> + +<h4>THE MACMILLAN COMPANY,<br /> +66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK.</h4> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><h3>WORKS BY ROLF BOLDREWOOD.</h3> + +<h3>ROBBERY UNDER ARMS.</h3> + +<p class="cen">New Edition. 12mo. Cloth. $1.25.</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>"We have nothing but praise for this story. Of adventure of +the most stirring kind there is, as we have said, abundance. +But there is more than this. The characters are drawn with +great skill. This is a book of no common literary +force."—<i>Spectator.</i></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>THE MINER'S RIGHT.</h3> + +<h4>A TALE OF THE AUSTRALIAN GOLD FIELDS.</h4> + +<p class="cen">12mo. Cloth. $1.25.</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>"Full of good passages, passages abounding in vivacity, in the +color and play of lif.... The pith of the book lies in its +singularly fresh and vivid pictures of the humors of the +gold-fields; tragic humors enough they are too."—<i>World.</i></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>THE SQUATTER'S DREAM.</h3> + +<p class="cen">12mo. Cloth. $1.25.</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>"A story of Australian life, told with directness and force. +The author's mastery of his subjects adds much to the +impressiveness of the story, which no doubt might be told as +literally true of hundreds of restless and ambitious young +Australians."—<i>N.Y. Tribune.</i></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>A COLONIAL REFORMER.</h3> + +<p class="cen">12mo. Cloth. $1.25.</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>"Rolf Boldrewood has written much and well on the Australian +colonies, but chiefly in the form of novels, and good novels +they are too. The Australian scenes, rural and urban, are +vividly described by Mr. Boldrewood, and there are among the +characters examples of the various adventurers and rogues that +infest new countries, which recall our early California days. +Whoever wants to know how they live in Australia will have the +want supplied."—<i>Philadelphia Evening Bulletin.</i></p> + +<p>"One of the most interesting books about Australia we have +ever read."—<i>Glasgow Herald.</i></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>NEVERMORE.</h3> + +<p class="cen">12mo. Cloth. $1.25.</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>"The plot of this story is skilfully drawn, the various +characters are delineated with unusual power. The book is rich +in local color, as it is in graphic description and moving +incident."—<i>Week.</i></p> + +<p>"The story is told with such naturalness and minuteness of +detail that it seems to be a narrative of actual occurrences +rather than a creation of the imagination."—<i>Home Journal.</i></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>A MODERN BUCCANEER.</h3> + +<p class="cen">12mo. Cloth. $1.25.</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>"The book from cover to cover is filled with incident and +charming descriptions. A novel of rare merit."—<i>Nashua +Republican.</i></p> + +<p>"The characters are drawn with great skill."—<i>Philadelphia +Press.</i></p> + +<p>"The work is a vivid story of the sea, and is full of +adventure, with sustained interest to the last page of the +volume."—<i>New York Observer.</i></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>THE CROOKED STICK; or, Polly's Probation.</h3> + +<p class="cen">12mo. Cloth. $1.25.</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>"His characters are drawn with skill, his localities are +strongly individualized, and his directness and vivacity +display no common literary force."—<i>Boston Journal.</i></p> + +<p>"A fascinating novel."—<i>The Press.</i></p> + +<p>"The book is very charming and satisfying. Its local +descriptions of the wild and arid region of Corindah and +pictures of Australian farm and domestic life are peculiarly +attractive."—<i>Boston Home Journal.</i></p></div> +</div> + +<br /> + +<h4>THE MACMILLAN COMPANY,<br /> +66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK.</h4> + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Soldier Stories, by Rudyard Kipling + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOLDIER STORIES *** + +***** This file should be named 28537-h.htm or 28537-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/5/3/28537/ + +Produced by Stephen Hope, Joseph Cooper, Jeannie Howse and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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diff --git a/28537.txt b/28537.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c3f404 --- /dev/null +++ b/28537.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5829 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Soldier Stories, by Rudyard Kipling + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Soldier Stories + +Author: Rudyard Kipling + +Release Date: April 8, 2009 [EBook #28537] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOLDIER STORIES *** + + + + +Produced by Stephen Hope, Joseph Cooper, Jeannie Howse and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + * * * * * + + +-----------------------------------------------------------+ + | Transcriber's Note: | + | | + | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original | + | document have been preserved. | + | | + | This e-book has dialect and unusual spelling. | + | | + +-----------------------------------------------------------+ + + * * * * * + + + + +SOLDIER STORIES + + + + +SOLDIER STORIES + +BY + +RUDYARD KIPLING + +AUTHOR OF "PLAIN TALES FROM THE HILLS," "UNDER THE +DEODARS," "THE PHANTOM RICKSHAW," "WEE +WILLIE WINKIE," ETC., ETC. + + +_WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS_ + + +NEW YORK +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY +LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD. +1896 + +_All rights reserved_ + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1896, +BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. + +Norwood Press +J.S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith +Norwood Mass. U.S.A. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + +WITH THE MAIN GUARD 1 + +THE DRUMS OF THE FORE AND AFT 25 + +THE MAN WHO WAS 78 + +THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD 101 + +THE INCARNATION OF KRISHNA MULVANEY 139 + +THE TAKING OF LUNGTUNGPEN 182 + +THE MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS 191 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + TO FACE PAGE + +'PUT YER 'EAD BETWEEN YOUR LEGS. IT'LL GO ORF IN A +MINUTE' 2 + +'HE RAN FORWARD WID THE HAYMAKERS' LIFT ON HIS +BAY'NIT' 12 + +HE PICKED HER UP IN THE GROWING LIGHT, AND SET HER +ON HIS SHOULDER 23 + +'HEY! WHAT? ARE YOU GOING TO ARGUE WITH _ME_?' +SAID THE COLONEL 35 + +CRIS SLID AN ARM ROUND HIS NECK 47 + +THE MEN STROLLED ACROSS THE TRACKS TO INSPECT THE +AFGHAN PRISONERS 50 + +THE TUNE SETTLED INTO FULL SWING, AND THE BOYS KEPT +SHOULDER TO SHOULDER 69 + +'_RUNG HO_, HIRA SINGH!' 85 + +HE FOUND THE SPRING 91 + +IT IS NOT GOOD THAT A GENTLEMAN WHO CAN ANSWER TO +THE QUEEN'S TOAST SHOULD LIE AT THE FEET OF A +SUBALTERN OF COSSACKS 94 + +'THIN WHIN THE KETTLE WAS TO BE FILLED, DINAH CAME +IN--MY DINAH' 117 + +'"MY COLLAR-BONE'S BRUK," SEZ HE' 121 + +'"THE HALF AV THAT I'LL TAKE," SEZ SHE' 132 + +'"OUT OF THIS," SEZ HE. "I'M IN CHARGE AV THIS SECTION +AV CONSTRUCTION."--"I'M IN CHARGE AV MESILF," SEZ +I, "AN' IT'S LIKE I WILL STAY A WHILE"' 149 + +'NINE ROUN'S THEY WERE EVEN MATCHED, AN' AT THE +TENTH----' 157 + +THERE PRANCED A PORTENT IN THE FACE OF THE MOON 166 + +'I WAS KRISHNA TOOTLIN' ON THE FLUTE' 176 + +'"SHTRIP, BHOYS," SEZ I. "SHTRIP TO THE BUFF, AN' +SHWIM IN WHERE GLORY WAITS!"' 185 + +'THERE WAS A _MELLY_ AV A SUMPSHUS KIND FOR A WHOILE' 187 + +ORTHERIS HEAVED A BIG SIGH 192 + +WE SET OFF AT THE DOUBLE AND FOUND HIM PLUNGING ABOUT +WILDLY THROUGH THE GRASS 201 + +[Illustration] + + + + +WITH THE MAIN GUARD + + Der jungere Uhlanen + Sit round mit open mouth + While Breitmann tell dem stdories + Of fightin' in the South; + Und gif dem moral lessons, + How before der battle pops, + Take a little prayer to Himmel + Und a goot long drink of Schnapps. + + _Hans Breitmann's Ballads._ + + +'Mary, Mother av Mercy, fwhat the divil possist us to take an' kape +this melancolious counthry? Answer me that, Sorr.' + +It was Mulvaney who was speaking. The time was one o'clock of a +stifling June night, and the place was the main gate of Fort Amara, +most desolate and least desirable of all fortresses in India. What I +was doing there at that hour is a question which only concerns M'Grath +the Sergeant of the Guard, and the men on the gate. + +'Slape,' said Mulvaney, 'is a shuparfluous necessity. This gyard'll +shtay lively till relieved.' He himself was stripped to the waist; +Learoyd on the next bedstead was dripping from the skinful of water +which Ortheris, clad only in white trousers, had just sluiced over his +shoulders; and a fourth private was muttering uneasily as he dozed +open-mouthed in the glare of the great guard-lantern. The heat under +the bricked archway was terrifying. + +'The worrst night that iver I remimber. Eyah! Is all Hell loose this +tide?' said Mulvaney. A puff of burning wind lashed through the +wicket-gate like a wave of the sea, and Ortheris swore. + +'Are ye more heasy, Jock?' he said to Learoyd. 'Put yer 'ead between +your legs. It'll go orf in a minute.' + +'Ah don't care. Ah would not care, but ma heart is plaayin' +tivvy-tivvy on ma ribs. Let me die! Oh, leave me die!' groaned the +huge Yorkshireman, who was feeling the heat acutely, being of fleshly +build. + +The sleeper under the lantern roused for a moment and raised himself +on his elbow.--'Die and be damned then!' he said. '_I_'m damned and I +can't die!' + +'Who's that?' I whispered, for the voice was new to me. + +'Gentleman born,' said Mulvaney; 'Corp'ril wan year, Sargint nex'. +Red-hot on his C'mission, but dhrinks like a fish. He'll be gone +before the cowld weather's here. So!' + + [Illustration: 'Put yer 'ead between your legs. It'll go orf in + a minute.'--P. 2.] + +He slipped his boot, and with the naked toe just touched the trigger +of his Martini. Ortheris misunderstood the movement, and the next +instant the Irishman's rifle was dashed aside, while Ortheris stood +before him, his eyes blazing with reproof. + +'You!' said Ortheris. 'My Gawd, _you_! If it was you, wot would _we_ +do?' + +'Kape quiet, little man,' said Mulvaney, putting him aside, but very +gently; ''tis not me, nor will ut be me whoile Dinah Shadd's here. I +was but showin' something.' + +Learoyd, bowed on his bedstead, groaned, and the gentleman-ranker +sighed in his sleep. Ortheris took Mulvaney's tendered pouch, and we +three smoked gravely for a space while the dust-devils danced on the +glacis and scoured the red-hot plain. + +'Pop?' said Ortheris, wiping his forehead. + +'Don't tantalise wid talkin' av dhrink, or I'll shtuff you into your +own breech-block an'--fire you off!' grunted Mulvaney. + +Ortheris chuckled, and from a niche in the veranda produced six +bottles of gingerade. + +'Where did ye get ut, ye Machiavel?' said Mulvaney. ''Tis no bazar +pop.' + +''Ow do _Hi_ know wot the Orf'cers drink?' answered Ortheris. 'Arst +the mess-man.' + +'Ye'll have a Disthrict Coort-Martial settin' on ye yet, me son,' said +Mulvaney, 'but'--he opened a bottle--'I will not report ye this time. +Fwhat's in the mess-kid is mint for the belly, as they say, 'specially +whin that mate is dhrink. Here's luck! A bloody war or a--no, we've +got the sickly season. War, thin!'--he waved the innocent 'pop' to the +four quarters of heaven. 'Bloody war! North, East, South, an' West! +Jock, ye quackin' hayrick, come an' dhrink.' + +But Learoyd, half mad with the fear of death presaged in the swelling +veins of his neck, was begging his Maker to strike him dead, and +fighting for more air between his prayers. A second time Ortheris +drenched the quivering body with water, and the giant revived. + +'An' Ah divn't see thot a mon is i' fettle for gooin' on to live; an' +Ah divn't see thot there is owt for t' livin' for. Hear now, lads! +Ah'm tired--tired. There's nobbut watter i' ma bones. Let me die!' + +The hollow of the arch gave back Learoyd's broken whisper in a bass +boom. Mulvaney looked at me hopelessly, but I remembered how the +madness of despair had once fallen upon Ortheris, that weary, weary +afternoon in the banks of the Khemi River, and how it had been +exorcised by the skilful magician Mulvaney. + +'Talk, Terence!' I said, 'or we shall have Learoyd slinging loose, and +he'll be worse than Ortheris was. Talk! He'll answer to your voice.' + +Almost before Ortheris had deftly thrown all the rifles of the guard +on Mulvaney's bedstead, the Irishman's voice was uplifted as that of +one in the middle of a story, and, turning to me, he said:-- + +'In barricks or out of it, as _you_ say, Sorr, an Oirish rig'mint is +the divil an' more. 'Tis only fit for a young man wid eddicated +fisteses. Oh the crame av disruption is an Oirish rig'mint, an' +rippin', tearin', ragin' scattherers in the field av war! My first +rig'mint was Oirish--Faynians an' rebils to the heart av their marrow +was they, an' _so_ they fought for the Widdy betther than most, bein' +contrairy--Oirish. They was the Black Tyrone. You've heard av thim, +Sorr?' + +Heard of them! I knew the Black Tyrone for the choicest collection of +unmitigated blackguards, dog-stealers, robbers of hen-roosts, +assaulters of innocent citizens, and recklessly daring heroes in the +Army List. Half Europe and half Asia has had cause to know the Black +Tyrone--good luck be with their tattered Colours as Glory has ever +been! + +'They _was_ hot pickils an' ginger! I cut a man's head tu deep wid my +belt in the days av my youth, an', afther some circumstances which I +will oblitherate, I came to the Ould Rig'mint, bearin' the character +av a man wid hands an' feet. But, as I was goin' to tell you, I fell +acrost the Black Tyrone agin wan day whin we wanted thim powerful bad. +Orth'ris, me son, fwhat was the name av that place where they sint wan +comp'ny av us an' wan av the Tyrone roun' a hill an' down again, all +for to tache the Paythans something they'd niver learned before? +Afther Ghuzni 'twas.' + +'Don't know what the bloomin' Paythans called it. We called it +Silver's Theayter. You know that, sure!' + +'Silver's Theatre--so 'twas. A gut betune two hills, as black as a +bucket, an' as thin as a girl's waist. There was over-many Paythans +for our convaynience in the gut, an' begad they called thimselves a +Reserve--bein' impident by natur'! Our Scotchies an' lashins av Gurkys +was poundin' into some Paythan rig'ments, I think 'twas. Scotchies and +Gurkys are twins bekaze they're so onlike, an' they get dhrunk +together when God plazes. As I was sayin', they sint wan comp'ny av +the Ould an' wan av the Tyrone to double up the hill an' clane out the +Paythan Reserve. Orf'cers was scarce in thim days, fwhat wid dysintry +an' not takin' care av thimselves, an' we was sint out wid only wan +orf'cer for the comp'ny; but he was a Man that had his feet beneath +him, an' all his teeth in their sockuts.' + +'Who was he?' I asked. + +'Captain O'Neil--Old Crook--Cruikna-bulleen--him that I tould ye that +tale av whin he was in Burma.[1] Hah! He was a Man. The Tyrone tuk a +little orf'cer bhoy, but divil a bit was he in command, as I'll +dimonstrate presintly. We an' they came over the brow av the hill, wan +on each side av the gut, an' there was that ondacint Reserve waitin' +down below like rats in a pit. + +'"Howld on, men," sez Crook, who tuk a mother's care av us always. +"Rowl some rocks on thim by way av visitin'-kyards." We hadn't rowled +more than twinty bowlders, an' the Paythans was beginnin' to swear +tremenjus, whin the little orf'cer bhoy av the Tyrone shqueaks out +acrost the valley:--"Fwhat the devil an' all are you doin', shpoilin' +the fun for my men? Do ye not see they'll stand?" + +'"Faith, that's a rare pluckt wan!" sez Crook. "Niver mind the rocks, +men. Come along down an' tak tay wid thim!" + +'"There's damned little sugar in ut!" sez my rear-rank man; but Crook +heard. + +'"Have ye not all got spoons?" he sez, laughin', an' down we wint as +fast as we cud. Learoyd bein' sick at the Base, he, av coorse, was not +there.' + +'Thot's a lie!' said Learoyd, dragging his bedstead nearer. 'Ah gotten +_thot_ theer, an' you know it, Mulvaney.' He threw up his arms, and +from the right arm-pit ran, diagonally through the fell of his chest, +a thin white line terminating near the fourth left rib. + +'My mind's goin',' said Mulvaney, the unabashed. 'Ye were there. Fwhat +was I thinkin' of? 'Twas another man, av coorse. Well, you'll remimber +thin, Jock, how we an' the Tyrone met wid a bang at the bottom an' got +jammed past all movin' among the Paythans?' + +'Ow! It _was_ a tight 'ole. I was squeezed till I thought I'd bloomin' +well bust,' said Ortheris, rubbing his stomach meditatively. + +''Twas no place for a little man, but _wan_ little man'--Mulvaney put +his hand on Ortheris's shoulder--'saved the life av me. There we +shtuck, for divil a bit did the Paythans flinch, an' divil a bit dare +we; our business bein' to clear 'em out. An' the most exthryordinar' +thing av all was that we an' they just rushed into each other's +arrums, an' there was no firing for a long time. Nothin' but knife an' +bay'nit when we cud get our hands free: an' that was not often. We was +breast-on to thim, an' the Tyrone was yelpin' behind av us in a way I +didn't see the lean av at first. But I knew later, an' so did the +Paythans. + +'"Knee to knee!" sings out Crook, wid a laugh whin the rush av our +comin' into the gut shtopped, an' he was huggin' a hairy great +Paythan, neither bein' able to do anything to the other, tho' both was +wishful. + +'"Breast to breast!" he sez, as the Tyrone was pushin' us forward +closer an' closer. + +'"An' hand over back!" sez a Sargint that was behin'. I saw a sword +lick out past Crook's ear, an' the Paythan was tuck in the apple av +his throat like a pig at Dromeen Fair. + +'"Thank ye, Brother Inner Guard," sez Crook, cool as a cucumber widout +salt. "I wanted that room." An' he wint forward by the thickness av a +man's body, havin' turned the Paythan undher him. The man bit the heel +off Crook's boot in his death-bite. + +'"Push, men!" sez Crook. "Push, ye paper-backed beggars!" he sez. "Am +I to pull ye through?" So we pushed, an' we kicked, an' we swung, an' +we swore, an' the grass bein' slippery our heels wouldn't bite, an' +God help the front-rank man that wint down that day!' + +''Ave you ever bin in the Pit hentrance o' the Vic. on a thick night?' +interrupted Ortheris. 'It was worse nor that, for they was goin' one +way, an' we wouldn't 'ave it. Leastaways, I 'adn't much to say.' + +'Faith, me son, ye said ut, thin. I kep' the little man betune my +knees as long as I cud, but he was pokin' roun' wid his bay'nit, +blindin' and stiffin' feroshus. The devil of a man is Orth'ris in a +ruction--aren't ye?' said Mulvaney. + +'Don't make game!' said the Cockney. 'I knowed I wasn't no good then, +but I guv 'em compot from the lef' flank when we opened out. No!' he +said, bringing down his hand with a thump on the bedstead, 'a bay'nit +ain't no good to a little man--might as well 'ave a bloomin' +fishin'-rod! I 'ate a clawin', maulin' mess, but gimme a breech that's +wore out a bit, an' hamminition one year in store, to let the powder +kiss the bullet, an' put me somewheres where I ain't trod on by 'ulkin +swine like you, an' s'elp me Gawd, I could bowl you over five times +outer seven at height 'undred. Would yer try, you lumberin' +Hirishman?' + +'No, ye wasp. I've seen ye do ut. I say there's nothin' better than +the bay'nit, wid a long reach, a double twist av ye can, an' a slow +recover.' + +'Dom the bay'nit,' said Learoyd, who had been listening intently. +'Look a-here!' He picked up a rifle an inch below the foresight with +an underhanded action, and used it exactly as a man would use a +dagger. + +'Sitha,' said he softly, 'thot's better than owt, for a mon can bash +t' faace wi' thot, an', if he divn't, he can breeak t' forearm o' t' +gaard. 'Tis not i' t' books, though. Gie me t' butt.' + +'Each does ut his own way, like makin' love,' said Mulvaney quietly; +'the butt or the bay'nit or the bullet accordin' to the natur' av the +man. Well, as I was sayin', we shtuck there breathin' in each other's +faces an' swearin' powerful; Orth'ris cursin' the mother that bore him +bekaze he was not three inches taller. + +'Prisintly he sez:--"Duck, ye lump, an' I can get at a man over your +shouldher!" + +'"You'll blow me head off," I sez, throwin' my arm clear; "go through +under my arm-pit, ye blood-thirsty little scutt," sez I, "but don't +shtick me or I'll wring your ears round." + +'Fwhat was ut ye gave the Paythan man forninst me, him that cut at me +whin I cudn't move hand or foot? Hot or cowld was ut?' + +'Cold,' said Ortheris, 'up an' under the rib-jint. 'E come down flat. +Best for you 'e did.' + +'Thrue, my son! This jam thing that I'm talkin' about lasted for five +minutes good, an' thin we got our arms clear an' wint in. I +misremimber exactly fwhat I did, but I didn't want Dinah to be a widdy +at the Depot. Thin, after some promishkuous hackin' we shtuck again, +an' the Tyrone behin' was callin' us dogs an' cowards an' all manner +av names; we barrin' their way. + +'"Fwhat ails the Tyrone?" thinks I; "they've the makin's av a most +convanient fight here." + +'A man behind me sez beseechful an' in a whisper:--"Let me get at +thim! For the love av Mary give me room beside ye, ye tall man!" + +'"An' who are you that's so anxious to be kilt?" sez I, widout turnin' +my head, for the long knives was dancin' in front like the sun on +Donegal Bay when ut's rough. + +'"We've seen our dead," he sez, squeezin' into me; "our dead that was +men two days gone! An' me that was his cousin by blood could not bring +Tim Coulan off? Let me get on," he sez, "let me get to thim or I'll +run ye through the back!" + +'"My troth," thinks I, "if the Tyrone have seen their dead, God help +the Paythans this day!" An' thin I knew why the Oirish was ragin' +behind us as they was. + +'I gave room to the man, an' he ran forward wid the Haymakers' Lift on +his bay'nit an' swung a Paythan clear off his feet by the belly-band +av the brute, an' the iron bruk at the lockin'-ring. + +'"Tim Coulan'll slape easy to-night," sez he wid a grin; an' the next +minut his head was in two halves and he wint down grinnin' by +sections. + +'The Tyrone was pushin' an' pushin' in, an' our men were swearin' at +thim, an' Crook was workin' away in front av us all, his sword-arm +swingin' like a pump-handle; an' his revolver spittin' like a cat. +But the strange thing av ut was the quiet that lay upon. 'Twas like a +fight in a drame--except for thim that was dead. + + [Illustration: 'He ran forward wid the Haymakers' Lift on his + bay'nit.'--P. 12.] + +'Whin I gave room to the Oirishman I was expinded an' forlorn in my +inside. 'Tis a way I have, savin' your presince, Sorr, in action. "Let +me out, bhoys," sez I, backin' in among thim. "I'm goin' to be +onwell!" Faith they gave me room at the wurrd, though they would not +ha' given room for all Hell wid the chill off. When I got clear, I +was, savin' your presince, Sorr, outragis sick bekaze I had dhrunk +heavy that day. + +'Well an' far out av harm was a Sargint av the Tyrone sittin' on the +little orf'cer bhoy who had stopped Crook from rowlin' the rocks. Oh, +he was a beautiful bhoy, an' the long black curses was sliding out av +his innocint mouth like morning-jew from a rose! + +'"Fwhat have you got there?" sez I to the Sargint. + +'"Wan av Her Majesty's bantams wid his spurs up," sez he. "He's goin' +to Coort-Martial me." + +'"Let me go!" sez the little orf'cer bhoy. "Let me go and command my +men!" manin' thereby the Black Tyrone which was beyond any +command--ay, even av they had made the Divil a Field-Orf'cer. + +'"His father howlds my mother's cow-feed in Clonmel," sez the man that +was sittin' on him. "Will I go back to _his_ mother an' tell her that +I've let him throw himself away? Lie still, ye little pinch av +dynamite, an' Coort-Martial me aftherwards." + +'"Good," sez I; "'tis the likes av him makes the likes av the +Commandher-in-Chief, but we must presarve thim. Fwhat d'you want to +do, Sorr?" sez I, very politeful. + +'"Kill the beggars--kill the beggars!" he shqueaks, his big blue eyes +brimmin' wid tears. + +'"An' how'll ye do that?" sez I. "You've shquibbed off your revolver +like a child wid a cracker; you can make no play wid that fine large +sword av yours; an' your hand's shakin' like an asp on a leaf. Lie +still and grow," sez I. + +'"Get back to your comp'ny," sez he; "you're insolint!" + +'"All in good time," sez I, "but I'll have a dhrink first." + +'Just thin Crook comes up, blue an' white all over where he wasn't +red. + +'"Wather!" sez he; "I'm dead wid drouth! Oh, but it's a gran' day!" + +'He dhrank half a skinful, and the rest he tilts into his chest, an' +it fair hissed on the hairy hide av him. He sees the little orf'cer +bhoy undher the Sargint. + +'"Fwhat's yonder?" sez he. + +'"Mutiny, Sorr," sez the Sargint, an' the orf'cer bhoy begins pleadin' +pitiful to Crook to be let go, but divil a bit wud Crook budge. + +'"Kape him there," he sez, "'tis no child's work this day. By the same +token," sez he, "I'll confishcate that iligant nickel-plated +scent-sprinkler av yours, for my own has been vomitin' dishgraceful!" + +'The fork av his hand was black wid the back-spit av the machine. So +he tuk the orf'cer bhoy's revolver. Ye may look, Sorr, but, by my +faith, _there's a dale more done in the field than iver gets into +Field Ordhers!_ + +'"Come on, Mulvaney," sez Crook; "is this a Coort-Martial?" The two av +us wint back together into the mess an' the Paythans were still +standin' up. They was not _too_ impart'nint though, for the Tyrone was +callin' wan to another to remimber Tim Coulan. + +'Crook stopped outside av the strife an' looked anxious, his eyes +rowlin' roun'. + +'"Fwhat is ut, Sorr?" sez I; "can I get ye anything?" + +'"Where's a bugler?" sez he. + +'I wint into the crowd--our men was dhrawin' breath behin' the Tyrone +who was fightin' like sowls in tormint--an' prisintly I came acrost +little Frehan, our bugler bhoy, pokin' roun' among the best wid a +rifle an' bay'nit. + +'"Is amusin' yoursilf fwhat you're paid for, ye limb?" sez I, catchin' +him by the scruff. "Come out av that an' attind to your duty," I sez; +but the bhoy was not pleased. + +'"I've got wan," sez he, grinnin', "big as you, Mulvaney, an' fair +half as ugly. Let me go get another." + +'I was dishpleased at the personability av that remark, so I tucks him +under my arm an' carries him to Crook who was watchin' how the fight +wint. Crook cuffs him till the bhoy cries, an' thin sez nothin' for a +whoile. + +'The Paythans began to flicker onaisy, an' our men roared. "Opin +ordher! Double!" sez Crook. "Blow, child, blow for the honour av the +British Arrmy!" + +'That bhoy blew like a typhoon, an' the Tyrone an' we opined out as +the Paythans broke, an' I saw that fwhat had gone before wud be +kissin' an' huggin' to fwhat was to come. We'd dhruv them into a broad +part av the gut whin they gave, an' thin we opined out an' fair danced +down the valley, dhrivin' thim before us. Oh, 'twas lovely, an' +stiddy, too! There was the Sargints on the flanks av what was left av +us, kapin' touch, an' the fire was runnin' from flank to flank, an' +the Paythans was dhroppin'. We opined out wid the widenin' av the +valley, an' whin the valley narrowed we closed again like the shticks +on a lady's fan, an' at the far ind av the gut where they thried to +stand, we fair blew them off their feet, for we had expinded very +little ammunition by reason av the knife work.' + +'Hi used thirty rounds goin' down that valley,' said Ortheris, 'an' it +was gentleman's work. Might 'a' done it in a white 'andkerchief an' +pink silk stockin's, that part. Hi was on in that piece.' + +'You could ha' heard the Tyrone yellin' a mile away,' said Mulvaney, +'an' 'twas all their Sargints cud do to get thim off. They was +mad--mad--mad! Crook sits down in the quiet that fell when we had gone +down the valley, an' covers his face wid his hands. Prisintly we all +came back again accordin' to our natures and disposishins, for they, +mark you, show through the hide av a man in that hour. + +'"Bhoys! bhoys!" sez Crook to himself. "I misdoubt we could ha' +engaged at long range an' saved betther men than me." He looked at our +dead an' said no more. + +'"Captain dear," sez a man av the Tyrone, comin' up wid his mouth +bigger than iver his mother kissed ut, spittin' blood like a whale; +"Captain dear," sez he, "if wan or two in the shtalls have been +discommoded, the gallery have enjoyed the performinces av a Roshus." + +'Thin I knew that man for the Dublin dock-rat he was--wan av the bhoys +that made the lessee av Silver's Theatre gray before his time wid +tearin' out the bowils av the benches an' t'rowin' thim into the pit. +So I passed the wurrud that I knew when I was in the Tyrone an' we lay +in Dublin. "I don't know who 'twas," I whispers, "an' I don't care, +but anyways I'll knock the face av you, Tim Kelly." + +'"Eyah!" sez the man, "was you there too? We'll call ut Silver's +Theatre." Half the Tyrone, knowin' the ould place, tuk ut up: so we +called ut Silver's Theatre. + +'The little orf'cer bhoy av the Tyrone was thremblin' an' cryin'. He +had no heart for the Coort-Martials that he talked so big upon. "Ye'll +do well later," sez Crook very quiet, "for not bein' allowed to kill +yourself for amusemint." + +'"I'm a dishgraced man!" sez the little orf'cer bhoy. + +'"Put me undher arrest, Sorr, if you will, but, by my sowl, I'd do ut +again sooner than face your mother wid you dead," sez the Sargint that +had sat on his head, standin' to attention an' salutin'. But the young +wan only cried as tho' his little heart was breakin'. + +'Thin another man av the Tyrone came up, wid the fog av fightin' on +him.' + +'The what, Mulvaney?' + +'Fog av fightin'. You know, Sorr, that, like makin' love, ut takes +each man diff'rint. Now I can't help bein' powerful sick whin I'm in +action. Orth'ris, here, niver stops swearin' from ind to ind, an' the +only time that Learoyd opins his mouth to sing is whin he is messin' +wid other people's heads; for he's a dhirty fighter is Jock. +Recruities sometime cry, an' sometime they don't know fwhat they do, +an' sometime they are all for cuttin' throats an' such-like dirtiness; +but some men get heavy-dead-dhrunk on the fightin'. This man was. He +was staggerin', an' his eyes were half-shut, an' we cud hear him dhraw +breath twinty yards away. He sees the little orf'cer bhoy, an' comes +up, talkin' thick an' drowsy to himsilf. "Blood the young whelp!" he +sez; "blood the young whelp;" an' wid that he threw up his arms, shpun +roun', an' dropped at our feet, dead as a Paythan, an' there was niver +sign or scratch on him. They said 'twas his heart was rotten, but oh, +'twas a quare thing to see! + +'Thin we went to bury our dead, for we wud not lave thim to the +Paythans, an' in movin' among the haythen we nearly lost that little +orf'cer bhoy. He was for givin' wan divil wather and layin' him aisy +against a rock. "Be careful, Sorr," sez I; "a wounded Paythan's worse +than a live wan." My troth, before the words was out of my mouth, the +man on the ground fires at the orf'cer bhoy lanin' over him, an' I saw +the helmit fly. I dropped the butt on the face av the man an' tuk his +pistol. The little orf'cer bhoy turned very white, for the hair av +half his head was singed away. + +'"I tould you so, Sorr," sez I; an', afther that, when he wanted to +help a Paythan I stud wid the muzzle contagious to the ear. They dare +not do anythin' but curse. The Tyrone was growlin' like dogs over a +bone that has been taken away too soon, for they had seen their dead +an' they wanted to kill ivry sowl on the ground. Crook tould thim that +he'd blow the hide off any man that misconducted himself; but, seeing +that ut was the first time the Tyrone had iver seen their dead, I do +not wondher they were on the sharp. 'Tis a shameful sight! Whin I +first saw ut I wud niver ha' given quarter to any man not of the +Khaibar--no, nor woman either, for the women used to come out afther +dhark--Auggrh! + +'Well, evenshually we buried our dead an' tuk away our wounded, an' +come over the brow av the hills to see the Scotchies an' the Gurkys +taking tay with the Paythans in bucketsfuls. We were a gang av +dissolute ruffians, for the blood had caked the dust, an' the sweat +had cut the cake, an' our bay'nits was hangin' like butchers' steels +betune ur legs, an' most av us were marked one way or another. + +'A Staff Orf'cer man, clean as a new rifle, rides up an' sez: "What +damned scarecrows are you?" + +'"A comp'ny av Her Majesty's Black Tyrone an' wan av the Ould +Rig'mint," sez Crook very quiet, givin' our visitors the flure as +'twas. + +'"Oh!" sez the Staff Orf'cer; "did you dislodge that Reserve?" + +'"No!" sez Crook, an' the Tyrone laughed. + +'"Thin fwhat the divil have ye done?" + +'"Disthroyed ut," sez Crook, an' he took us on, but not before Toomey +that was in the Tyrone sez aloud, his voice somewhere in his stummick: +"Fwhat in the name av misfortune does this parrit widout a tail mane +by shtoppin' the road av his betthers?" + +'The Staff Orf'cer wint blue, an' Toomey makes him pink by changin' to +the voice av a minowderin' woman an' sayin': "Come an' kiss me, Major +dear, for me husband's at the wars an' I'm all alone at the Depot." + +'The Staff Orf'cer wint away, an' I cud see Crook's shoulthers +shakin'. + +'His Corp'ril checks Toomey. "Lave me alone," sez Toomey, widout a +wink. "I was his batman before he was married an' he knows fwhat I +mane, av you don't. There's nothin' like livin' in the hoight av +society." D'you remimber that, Orth'ris!' + +'Hi do. Toomey, 'e died in 'orspital, next week it was, 'cause I +bought 'arf his kit; an' I remember after that----' + +'GUARRD, TURN OUT!' + +The Relief had come; it was four o'clock. 'I'll catch a kyart for you, +Sorr,' said Mulvaney, diving hastily into his accoutrements. 'Come up +to the top av the Fort an' we'll pershue our invistigations into +M'Grath's shtable.' The relieved guard strolled round the main bastion +on its way to the swimming-bath, and Learoyd grew almost talkative. +Ortheris looked into the Fort ditch and across the plain. 'Ho! it's +weary waitin' for Ma-ary!' he hummed; 'but I'd like to kill some more +bloomin' Paythans before my time's up. War! Bloody war! North, East, +South, and West.' + +'Amen,' said Learoyd slowly. + +'Fwhat's here?' said Mulvaney, checking at a blur of white by the foot +of the old sentry-box. He stooped and touched it. 'It's Norah--Norah +M'Taggart! Why, Nonie darlin', fwhat are ye doin' out av your mother's +bed at this time?' + +The two-year-old child of Sergeant M'Taggart must have wandered for a +breath of cool air to the very verge of the parapet of the Fort ditch. +Her tiny night-shift was gathered into a wisp round her neck and she +moaned in her sleep. 'See there!' said Mulvaney; 'poor lamb! Look at +the heat-rash on the innocint skin av her. 'Tis hard--crool hard +even for us. Fwhat must it be for these? Wake up, Nonie, your mother +will be woild about you. Begad, the child might ha' fallen into the +ditch!' + + [Illustration: He picked her up in the growing light, and set + her on his shoulder.--P. 23.] + +He picked her up in the growing light, and set her on his shoulder, +and her fair curls touched the grizzled stubble of his temples. +Ortheris and Learoyd followed snapping their fingers, while Norah +smiled at them a sleepy smile. Then carolled Mulvaney, clear as a +lark, dancing the baby on his arm:-- + + 'If any young man should marry you, + Say nothin' about the joke; + That iver ye slep' in a sinthry-box, + Wrapped up in a soldier's cloak. + +'Though, on my sowl, Nonie,' he said gravely, 'there was not much +cloak about you. Niver mind, you won't dhress like this ten years to +come. Kiss your friends an' run along to your mother.' + +Nonie, set down close to the Married Quarters, nodded with the quiet +obedience of the soldier's child, but, ere she pattered off over the +flagged path, held up her lips to be kissed by the Three Musketeers. +Ortheris wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and swore +sentimentally; Learoyd turned pink; and the two walked away together. +The Yorkshireman lifted up his voice and gave in thunder the chorus of +_The Sentry Box_, while Ortheris piped at his side. + +''Bin to a bloomin' sing-song, you two?' said the Artilleryman, who +was taking his cartridge down to the Morning Gun. 'You're over merry +for these dashed days.' + + 'I bid ye take care o' the brat, said he, + For it comes of a noble race,' + +Learoyd bellowed. The voices died out in the swimming-bath. + +'Oh, Terence!' I said, dropping into Mulvaney's speech, when we were +alone, 'it's you that have the Tongue!' + +He looked at me wearily; his eyes were sunk in his head, and his face +was drawn and white. 'Eyah!' said he; 'I've blandandhered thim through +the night somehow, but can thim that helps others help thimselves? +Answer me that, Sorr!' + +And over the bastions of Fort Amara broke the pitiless day. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] + + Now first of the foemen of Boh Da Thone + Was Captain O'Neil of the Black Tyrone. + _The Ballad of Boh Da Thone._ + + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE DRUMS OF THE FORE AND AFT + + +In the Army List they still stand as 'The Fore and Fit Princess +Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen-Auspach's Merthyr-Tydfilshire Own Royal Loyal +Light Infantry, Regimental District 329A,' but the Army through all +its barracks and canteens knows them now as the 'Fore and Aft.' They +may in time do something that shall make their new title honourable, +but at present they are bitterly ashamed, and the man who calls them +'Fore and Aft' does so at the risk of the head which is on his +shoulders. + +Two words breathed into the stables of a certain Cavalry Regiment will +bring the men out into the streets with belts and mops and bad +language; but a whisper of 'Fore and Aft' will bring out this regiment +with rifles. + +Their one excuse is that they came again and did their best to finish +the job in style. But for a time all their world knows that they were +openly beaten, whipped, dumb-cowed, shaking, and afraid. The men know +it; their officers know it; the Horse Guards know it, and when the +next war comes the enemy will know it also. There are two or three +regiments of the Line that have a black mark against their names which +they will then wipe out; and it will be excessively inconvenient for +the troops upon whom they do their wiping. + +The courage of the British soldier is officially supposed to be above +proof, and, as a general rule, it is so. The exceptions are decently +shovelled out of sight, only to be referred to in the freshest of +unguarded talk that occasionally swamps a Mess-table at midnight. Then +one hears strange and horrible stories of men not following their +officers, of orders being given by those who had no right to give +them, and of disgrace that, but for the standing luck of the British +Army, might have ended in brilliant disaster. These are unpleasant +stories to listen to, and the Messes tell them under their breath, +sitting by the big wood fires; and the young officer bows his head and +thinks to himself, please God, his men shall never behave unhandily. + +The British soldier is not altogether to be blamed for occasional +lapses; but this verdict he should not know. A moderately intelligent +General will waste six months in mastering the craft of the particular +war that he may be waging; a Colonel may utterly misunderstand the +capacity of his regiment for three months after it has taken the +field; and even a Company Commander may err and be deceived as to the +temper and temperament of his own handful: wherefore the soldier, and +the soldier of to-day more particularly, should not be blamed for +falling back. He should be shot or hanged afterwards--to encourage the +others; but he should not be vilified in newspapers, for that is want +of tact and waste of space. + +He has, let us say, been in the service of the Empress for, perhaps, +four years. He will leave in another two years. He has no inherited +morals, and four years are not sufficient to drive toughness into his +fibre, or to teach him how holy a thing is his Regiment. He wants to +drink, he wants to enjoy himself--in India he wants to save money--and +he does not in the least like getting hurt. He has received just +sufficient education to make him understand half the purport of the +orders he receives, and to speculate on the nature of clean, incised, +and shattering wounds. Thus, if he is told to deploy under fire +preparatory to an attack, he knows that he runs a very great risk of +being killed while he is deploying, and suspects that he is being +thrown away to gain ten minutes' time. He may either deploy with +desperate swiftness, or he may shuffle, or bunch, or break, according +to the discipline under which he has lain for four years. + +Armed with imperfect knowledge, cursed with the rudiments of an +imagination, hampered by the intense selfishness of the lower classes, +and unsupported by any regimental associations, this young man is +suddenly introduced to an enemy who in eastern lands is always ugly, +generally tall and hairy, and frequently noisy. If he looks to the +right and the left and sees old soldiers--men of twelve years' +service, who, he knows, know what they are about--taking a charge, +rush, or demonstration without embarrassment, he is consoled and +applies his shoulder to the butt of his rifle with a stout heart. His +peace is the greater if he hears a senior, who has taught him his +soldiering and broken his head on occasion, whispering: 'They'll shout +and carry on like this for five minutes. Then they'll rush in, and +then we've got 'em by the short hairs!' + +But, on the other hand, if he sees only men of his own term of +service, turning white and playing with their triggers and saying: +'What the Hell's up now?' while the Company Commanders are sweating +into their sword-hilts and shouting: 'Front-rank, fix bayonets. Steady +there--steady! Sight for three hundred--no, for five! Lie down, all! +Steady! Front-rank kneel!' and so forth, he becomes unhappy; and grows +acutely miserable when he hears a comrade turn over with the rattle of +fire-irons falling into the fender, and the grunt of a pole-axed ox. +If he can be moved about a little and allowed to watch the effect of +his own fire on the enemy he feels merrier, and may be then worked up +to the blind passion of fighting, which is, contrary to general +belief, controlled by a chilly Devil and shakes men like ague. If he +is not moved about, and begins to feel cold at the pit of the stomach, +and in that crisis is badly mauled and hears orders that were never +given, he will break, and he will break badly; and of all things under +the light of the Sun there is nothing more terrible than a broken +British regiment. When the worst comes to the worst and the panic is +really epidemic, the men must be e'en let go, and the Company +Commanders had better escape to the enemy and stay there for safety's +sake. If they can be made to come again they are not pleasant men to +meet; because they will not break twice. + +About thirty years from this date, when we have succeeded in +half-educating everything that wears trousers, our Army will be a +beautifully unreliable machine. It will know too much and it will do +too little. Later still, when all men are at the mental level of the +officer of to-day, it will sweep the earth. Speaking roughly, you must +employ either blackguards or gentlemen, or, best of all, blackguards +commanded by gentlemen, to do butcher's work with efficiency and +despatch. The ideal soldier should, of course, think for himself--the +_Pocket-book_ says so. Unfortunately, to attain this virtue he has to +pass through the phase of thinking of himself, and that is misdirected +genius. A blackguard may be slow to think for himself, but he is +genuinely anxious to kill, and a little punishment teaches him how to +guard his own skin and perforate another's. A powerfully prayerful +Highland Regiment, officered by rank Presbyterians, is, perhaps, one +degree more terrible in action than a hard-bitten thousand of +irresponsible Irish ruffians led by most improper young unbelievers. +But these things prove the rule--which is that the midway men are not +to be trusted alone. They have ideas about the value of life and an +upbringing that has not taught them to go on and take the chances. +They are carefully unprovided with a backing of comrades who have been +shot over, and until that backing is re-introduced, as a great many +Regimental Commanders intend it shall be, they are more liable to +disgrace themselves than the size of the Empire or the dignity of the +Army allows. Their officers are as good as good can be, because their +training begins early, and God has arranged that a clean-run youth of +the British middle classes shall, in the matter of backbone, brains, +and bowels, surpass all other youths. For this reason a child of +eighteen will stand up, doing nothing, with a tin sword in his hand +and joy in his heart until he is dropped. If he dies, he dies like a +gentleman. If he lives, he writes Home that he has been 'potted,' +'sniped,' 'chipped,' or 'cut over,' and sits down to besiege +Government for a wound-gratuity until the next little war breaks out, +when he perjures himself before a Medical Board, blarneys his Colonel, +burns incense round his Adjutant, and is allowed to go to the Front +once more. + +Which homily brings me directly to a brace of the most finished little +fiends that ever banged drum or tootled fife in the Band of a British +Regiment. They ended their sinful career by open and flagrant mutiny +and were shot for it. Their names were Jakin and Lew--Piggy Lew--and +they were bold, bad drummer-boys, both of them frequently birched by +the Drum-Major of the Fore and Aft. + +Jakin was a stunted child of fourteen, and Lew was about the same age. +When not looked after, they smoked and drank. They swore habitually +after the manner of the Barrack-room, which is cold-swearing and comes +from between clinched teeth; and they fought religiously once a week. +Jakin had sprung from some London gutter, and may or may not have +passed through Dr. Barnardo's hands ere he arrived at the dignity of +drummer-boy. Lew could remember nothing except the Regiment and the +delight of listening to the Band from his earliest years. He hid +somewhere in his grimy little soul a genuine love for music, and was +most mistakenly furnished with the head of a cherub: insomuch that +beautiful ladies who watched the Regiment in church were wont to speak +of him as a 'darling.' They never heard his vitriolic comments on +their manners and morals, as he walked back to barracks with the Band +and matured fresh causes of offence against Jakin. + +The other drummer-boys hated both lads on account of their illogical +conduct. Jakin might be pounding Lew, or Lew might be rubbing Jakin's +head in the dirt, but any attempt at aggression on the part of an +outsider was met by the combined forces of Lew and Jakin; and the +consequences were painful. The boys were the Ishmaels of the corps, +but wealthy Ishmaels, for they sold battles in alternate weeks for the +sport of the barracks when they were not pitted against other boys; +and thus amassed money. + +On this particular day there was dissension in the camp. They had just +been convicted afresh of smoking, which is bad for little boys who use +plug-tobacco, and Lew's contention was that Jakin had 'stunk so 'orrid +bad from keepin' the pipe in pocket,' that he and he alone was +responsible for the birching they were both tingling under. + +'I tell you I 'id the pipe back o' barracks,' said Jakin pacifically. + +'You're a bloomin' liar,' said Lew without heat. + +'You're a bloomin' little barstard,' said Jakin, strong in the +knowledge that his own ancestry was unknown. + +Now there is one word in the extended vocabulary of barrack-room abuse +that cannot pass without comment. You may call a man a thief and risk +nothing. You may even call him a coward without finding more than a +boot whiz past your ear, but you must not call a man a bastard unless +you are prepared to prove it on his front teeth. + +'You might ha' kep' that till I wasn't so sore,' said Lew sorrowfully, +dodging round Jakin's guard. + +'I'll make you sorer,' said Jakin genially, and got home on Lew's +alabaster forehead. All would have gone well and this story, as the +books say, would never have been written, had not his evil fate +prompted the Bazar-Sergeant's son, a long, employless man of +five-and-twenty, to put in an appearance after the first round. He was +eternally in need of money, and knew that the boys had silver. + +'Fighting again,' said he. 'I'll report you to my father, and he'll +report you to the Colour-Sergeant.' + +'What's that to you?' said Jakin with an unpleasant dilation of the +nostrils. + +'Oh! nothing to _me_. You'll get into trouble, and you've been up too +often to afford that.' + +'What the Hell do you know about what we've done?' asked Lew the +Seraph. '_You_ aren't in the Army, you lousy, cadging civilian.' + +He closed in on the man's left flank. + +'Jes' 'cause you find two gentlemen settlin' their diff'rences with +their fistes you stick in your ugly nose where you aren't wanted. Run +'ome to your 'arf-caste slut of a Ma--or we'll give you what-for,' +said Jakin. + +The man attempted reprisals by knocking the boys' heads together. The +scheme would have succeeded had not Jakin punched him vehemently in +the stomach, or had Lew refrained from kicking his shins. They fought +together, bleeding and breathless, for half an hour, and, after heavy +punishment, triumphantly pulled down their opponent as terriers pull +down a jackal. + +'Now,' gasped Jakin, 'I'll give you what-for.' He proceeded to pound +the man's features while Lew stamped on the outlying portions of his +anatomy. Chivalry is not a strong point in the composition of the +average drummer-boy. He fights, as do his betters, to make his mark. + +Ghastly was the ruin that escaped, and awful was the wrath of the +Bazar-Sergeant. Awful, too, was the scene in Orderly-room when the two +reprobates appeared to answer the charge of half-murdering a +'civilian.' The Bazar-Sergeant thirsted for a criminal action, and his +son lied. The boys stood to attention while the black clouds of +evidence accumulated. + + [Illustration: 'Hey! What? Are you going to argue with _me_?' + said the Colonel.--P. 35.] + +'You little devils are more trouble than the rest of the Regiment put +together,' said the Colonel angrily. 'One might as well admonish +thistledown, and I can't well put you in cells or under stoppages. You +must be birched again.' + +'Beg y' pardon, Sir. Can't we say nothin' in our own defence, Sir?' +shrilled Jakin. + +'Hey! What? Are you going to argue with _me_?' said the Colonel. + +'No, Sir,' said Lew. 'But if a man come to you, Sir, and said he was +going to report you, Sir, for 'aving a bit of a turn-up with a friend, +Sir, an' wanted to get money out o' _you_, Sir--' + +The Orderly-room exploded in a roar of laughter. 'Well?' said the +Colonel. + +'That was what that measly _jarnwar_ there did, Sir, and 'e'd 'a' +_done_ it, Sir, if we 'adn't prevented 'im. We didn't 'it 'im much, +Sir. 'E 'adn't no manner o' right to interfere with us, Sir. I don't +mind bein' birched by the Drum-Major, Sir, nor yet reported by _any_ +Corp'ral, but I'm--but I don't think it's fair, Sir, for a civilian to +come an' talk over a man in the Army.' + +A second shout of laughter shook the Orderly-room, but the Colonel was +grave. + +'What sort of characters have these boys?' he asked of the Regimental +Sergeant-Major. + +'Accordin' to the Bandmaster, Sir,' returned that revered +official--the only soul in the regiment whom the boys feared--'they do +everything _but_ lie, Sir.' + +'Is it like we'd go for that man for fun, Sir?' said Lew, pointing to +the plaintiff. + +'Oh, admonished--admonished!' said the Colonel testily, and when the +boys had gone he read the Bazar-Sergeant's son a lecture on the sin of +unprofitable meddling, and gave orders that the Bandmaster should keep +the Drums in better discipline. + +'If either of you comes to practice again with so much as a scratch on +your two ugly little faces,' thundered the Bandmaster, 'I'll tell the +Drum-Major to take the skin off your backs. Understand that, you young +devils.' + +Then he repented of his speech for just the length of time that Lew, +looking like a Seraph in red worsted embellishments, took the place of +one of the trumpets--in hospital--and rendered the echo of a +battle-piece. Lew certainly was a musician, and had often in his more +exalted moments expressed a yearning to master every instrument of the +Band. + +'There's nothing to prevent your becoming a Bandmaster, Lew,' said +the Bandmaster, who had composed waltzes of his own, and worked day +and night in the interests of the Band. + +'What did he say?' demanded Jakin after practice. + +''Said I might be a bloomin' Bandmaster, an' be asked in to 'ave a +glass o' sherry-wine on Mess-nights.' + +'Ho! 'Said you might be a bloomin' non-combatant, did 'e! That's just +about wot 'e would say. When I've put in my boy's service--it's a +bloomin' shame that doesn't count for pension--I'll take on as a +privit. Then I'll be a Lance in a year--knowin' what I know about the +ins an' outs o' things. In three years I'll be a bloomin' Sergeant. I +won't marry then, not I! I'll 'old on and learn the orf'cers' ways an' +apply for exchange into a reg'ment that doesn't know all about me. +Then I'll be a bloomin' orf'cer. Then I'll ask you to 'ave a glass o' +sherry-wine, _Mister_ Lew, an' you'll bloomin' well 'ave to stay in +the hanty-room while the Mess-Sergeant brings it to your dirty 'ands.' + +''S'pose I'm going to be a Bandmaster? Not I, quite. I'll be a orf'cer +too. There's nothin' like takin' to a thing an' stickin' to it, the +Schoolmaster says. The reg'ment don't go 'ome for another seven years. +I'll be a Lance then or near to.' + +Thus the boys discussed their futures, and conducted themselves +piously for a week. That is to say, Lew started a flirtation with the +Colour-Sergeant's daughter, aged thirteen--'not,' as he explained to +Jakin, 'with any intention o' matrimony, but by way o' keepin' my 'and +in.' And the black-haired Cris Delighan enjoyed that flirtation more +than previous ones, and the other drummer-boys raged furiously +together, and Jakin preached sermons on the dangers of 'bein' tangled +along o' petticoats.' + +But neither love nor virtue would have held Lew long in the paths of +propriety had not the rumour gone abroad that the Regiment was to be +sent on active service, to take part in a war which, for the sake of +brevity, we will call 'The War of the Lost Tribes.' + +The barracks had the rumour almost before the Mess-room, and of all +the nine hundred men in barracks not ten had seen a shot fired in +anger. The Colonel had, twenty years ago, assisted at a Frontier +expedition; one of the Majors had seen service at the Cape; a +confirmed deserter in E Company had helped to clear streets in +Ireland; but that was all. The Regiment had been put by for many +years. The overwhelming mass of its rank and file had from three to +four years' service; the non-commissioned officers were under thirty +years old; and men and sergeants alike had forgotten to speak of the +stories written in brief upon the Colours--the New Colours that had +been formally blessed by an Archbishop in England ere the Regiment +came away. + +They wanted to go to the Front--they were enthusiastically anxious to +go--but they had no knowledge of what war meant, and there was none to +tell them. They were an educated regiment, the percentage of +school-certificates in their ranks was high, and most of the men could +do more than read and write. They had been recruited in loyal +observance of the territorial idea; but they themselves had no notion +of that idea. They were made up of drafts from an over-populated +manufacturing district. The system had put flesh and muscle upon their +small bones, but it could not put heart into the sons of those who for +generations had done overmuch work for over-scanty pay, had sweated in +drying-rooms, stooped over looms, coughed among white-lead, and +shivered on lime-barges. The men had found food and rest in the Army, +and now they were going to fight 'niggers'--people who ran away if you +shook a stick at them. Wherefore they cheered lustily when the rumour +ran, and the shrewd, clerkly non-commissioned officers speculated on +the chances of batta and of saving their pay. At Headquarters men +said: 'The Fore and Fit have never been under fire within the last +generation. Let us, therefore, break them in easily by setting them to +guard lines of communication.' And this would have been done but for +the fact that British Regiments were wanted--badly wanted--at the +Front, and there were doubtful Native Regiments that could fill the +minor duties. 'Brigade 'em with two strong Regiments,' said +Headquarters. 'They may be knocked about a bit, though they'll learn +their business before they come through. Nothing like a night-alarm +and a little cutting up of stragglers to make a Regiment smart in the +field. Wait till they've had half-a-dozen sentries' throats cut.' + +The Colonel wrote with delight that the temper of his men was +excellent, that the Regiment was all that could be wished and as sound +as a bell. The Majors smiled with a sober joy, and the subalterns +waltzed in pairs down the Mess-room after dinner, and nearly shot +themselves at revolver-practice. But there was consternation in the +hearts of Jakin and Lew. What was to be done with the Drums? Would the +Band go to the Front? How many of the Drums would accompany the +Regiment? + +They took counsel together, sitting in a tree and smoking. + +'It's more than a bloomin' toss-up they'll leave us be'ind at the +Depot with the women. You'll like that,' said Jakin sarcastically. + +''Cause o' Cris, y' mean? Wot's a woman, or a 'ole bloomin' depot o' +women, 'longside o' the chanst of field-service? You know I'm as keen +on goin' as you,' said Lew. + +''Wish I was a bloomin' bugler,' said Jakin sadly. 'They'll take Tom +Kidd along, that I can plaster a wall with, an' like as not they won't +take us.' + +'Then let's go an' make Tom Kidd so bloomin' sick 'e can't bugle no +more. You 'old 'is 'ands an' I'll kick him,' said Lew, wriggling on +the branch. + +'That ain't no good neither. We ain't the sort o' characters to +presoom on our rep'tations--they're bad. If they leave the Band at the +Depot we don't go, and no error _there_. If they take the Band we may +get cast for medical unfitness. Are you medical fit, Piggy?' said +Jakin, digging Lew in the ribs with force. + +'Yus,' said Lew with an oath. 'The Doctor says your 'eart's weak +through smokin' on an empty stummick. Throw a chest an' I'll try yer.' + +Jakin threw out his chest, which Lew smote with all his might. Jakin +turned very pale, gasped, crowed, screwed up his eyes, and +said--'That's all right.' + +'You'll do,' said Lew. 'I've 'eard o' men dyin' when you 'it 'em fair +on the breastbone.' + +'Don't bring us no nearer goin', though,' said Jakin. 'Do you know +where we're ordered?' + +'Gawd knows, an' 'E won't split on a pal. Somewheres up to the Front +to kill Paythans--hairy big beggars that turn you inside out if they +get 'old o' you. They say their women are good-looking, too.' + +'Any loot?' asked the abandoned Jakin. + +'Not a bloomin' anna, they say, unless you dig up the ground an' see +what the niggers 'ave 'id. They're a poor lot.' Jakin stood upright on +the branch and gazed across the plain. + +'Lew,' said he, 'there's the Colonel coming. 'Colonel's a good old +beggar. Let's go an' talk to 'im.' + +Lew nearly fell out of the tree at the audacity of the suggestion. +Like Jakin he feared not God, neither regarded he Man, but there are +limits even to the audacity of drummer-boy, and to speak to a Colonel +was---- + +But Jakin had slid down the trunk and doubled in the direction of the +Colonel. That officer was walking wrapped in thought and visions of a +C.B.--yes, even a K.C.B., for had he not at command one of the best +Regiments of the Line--the Fore and Fit? And he was aware of two small +boys charging down upon him. Once before it had been solemnly reported +to him that 'the Drums were in a state of mutiny,' Jakin and Lew being +the ringleaders. This looked like an organised conspiracy. + +The boys halted at twenty yards, walked to the regulation four paces, +and saluted together, each as well-set-up as a ramrod and little +taller. + +The Colonel was in a genial mood; the boys appeared very forlorn and +unprotected on the desolate plain, and one of them was handsome. + +'Well!' said the Colonel, recognising them. 'Are you going to pull me +down in the open? I'm sure I never interfere with you, even +though'--he sniffed suspiciously--'you have been smoking.' + +It was time to strike while the iron was hot. Their hearts beat +tumultuously. + +'Beg y' pardon, Sir,' began Jakin. 'The Reg'ment's ordered on active +service, Sir?' + +'So I believe,' said the Colonel courteously. + +'Is the Band goin', Sir?' said both together. Then, without pause, +'We're goin', Sir, ain't we?' + +'You!' said the Colonel, stepping back the more fully to take in the +two small figures. 'You! You'd die in the first march.' + +'No, we wouldn't, Sir. We can march with the Reg'ment +anywheres--p'rade an' anywhere else,' said Jakin. + +'If Tom Kidd goes 'e'll shut up like a clasp-knife,' said Lew. 'Tom +'as very-close veins in both 'is legs, Sir.' + +'Very how much?' + +'Very-close veins, Sir. That's why they swells after long p'rade, +Sir. If 'e can go, we can go, Sir.' + +Again the Colonel looked at them long and intently. + +'Yes, the Band is going,' he said as gravely as though he had been +addressing a brother officer. 'Have you any parents, either of you +two?' + +'No, Sir,' rejoicingly from Lew and Jakin. 'We're both orphans, Sir. +There's no one to be considered of on our account, Sir.' + +'You poor little sprats, and you want to go up to the Front with the +Regiment, do you? Why?' + +'I've wore the Queen's Uniform for two years,' said Jakin. 'It's very +'ard, Sir, that a man don't get no recompense for doin' of 'is dooty, +Sir.' + +'An'--an' if I don't go, Sir,' interrupted Lew, 'the Bandmaster 'e +says 'e'll catch an' make a bloo--a blessed musician o' me, Sir. +Before I've seen any service, Sir.' + +The Colonel made no answer for a long time. Then he said quietly: 'If +you're passed by the Doctor I daresay you can go. I shouldn't smoke if +I were you.' + +The boys saluted and disappeared. The Colonel walked home and told the +story to his wife, who nearly cried over it. The Colonel was well +pleased. If that was the temper of the children, what would not the +men do? + +Jakin and Lew entered the boys' barrack-room with great stateliness, +and refused to hold any conversation with their comrades for at least +ten minutes. Then, bursting with pride, Jakin drawled: 'I've bin +intervooin' the Colonel. Good old beggar is the Colonel. Says I to +'im, "Colonel," says I, "let me go to the Front, along o' the +Reg'ment."--"To the Front you shall go," says 'e, "an' I only wish +there was more like you among the dirty little devils that bang the +bloomin' drums." Kidd, if you throw your 'courtrements at me for +tellin' you the truth to your own advantage, your legs'll swell.' + +None the less there was a Battle-Royal in the barrack-room, for the +boys were consumed with envy and hate, and neither Jakin nor Lew +behaved in conciliatory wise. + +'I'm goin' out to say adoo to my girl,' said Lew, to cap the climax. +'Don't none o' you touch my kit because it's wanted for active +service; me bein' specially invited to go by the Colonel.' + +He strolled forth and whistled in the clump of trees at the back of +the Married Quarters till Cris came to him, and, the preliminary +kisses being given and taken, Lew began to explain the situation. + +'I'm goin' to the Front with the Reg'ment,' he said valiantly. + +'Piggy, you're a little liar,' said Cris, but her heart misgave her, +for Lew was not in the habit of lying. + +'Liar yourself, Cris,' said Lew, slipping an arm round her. 'I'm +goin'. When the Reg'ment marches out you'll see me with 'em, all +galliant and gay. Give us another kiss, Cris, on the strength of it.' + +'If you'd on'y a-stayed at the Depot--where you _ought_ to ha' +bin--you could get as many of 'em as--as you dam please,' whimpered +Cris, putting up her mouth. + +'It's 'ard, Cris. I grant you it's 'ard. But what's a man to do? If +I'd a-stayed at the Depot, you wouldn't think anything of me.' + +'Like as not, but I'd 'ave you with me, Piggy. An' all the thinkin' in +the world isn't like kissin'.' + +'An' all the kissin' in the world isn't like 'avin' a medal to wear on +the front o' your coat.' + +'_You_ won't get no medal.' + +'Oh yus, I shall though. Me an' Jakin are the only acting-drummers +that'll be took along. All the rest is full men, an' we'll get our +medals with them.' + +'They might ha' taken anybody but you, Piggy. You'll get +killed--you're so venturesome. Stay with me, Piggy darlin', down at +the Depot, an' I'll love you true for ever.' + +'Ain't you goin' to do that _now_, Cris? You said you was.' + +'O' course I am, but th' other's more comfortable. Wait till you've +growed a bit, Piggy. You aren't no taller than me now.' + + [Illustration: Cris slid an arm round his neck.--P. 47.] + +'I've bin in the Army for two years an' I'm not goin' to get out of a +chanst o' seein' service, an' don't you try to make me do so. I'll +come back, Cris, an' when I take on as a man I'll marry you--marry you +when I'm a Lance.' + +'Promise, Piggy?' + +Lew reflected on the future as arranged by Jakin a short time +previously, but Cris's mouth was very near to his own. + +'I promise, s'elp me Gawd!' said he. + +Cris slid an arm round his neck. + +'I won't 'old you back no more, Piggy. Go away an' get your medal, an' +I'll make you a new button-bag as nice as I know how,' she whispered. + +'Put some o' your 'air into it, Cris, an' I'll keep it in my pocket so +long's I'm alive.' + +Then Cris wept anew, and the interview ended. + +Public feeling among the drummer-boys rose to fever pitch and the +lives of Jakin and Lew became unenviable. Not only had they been +permitted to enlist two years before the regulation boy's +age--fourteen--but, by virtue, it seemed, of their extreme youth, they +were allowed to go to the Front--which thing had not happened to +acting-drummers within the knowledge of boy. The Band which was to +accompany the Regiment had been cut down to the regulation twenty +men, the surplus returning to the ranks. Jakin and Lew were attached +to the Band as supernumeraries, though they would much have preferred +being Company buglers. + +''Don't matter much,' said Jakin after the medical inspection. 'Be +thankful that we're 'lowed to go at all. The Doctor 'e said that if we +could stand what we took from the Bazar-Sergeant's son we'd stand +pretty nigh anything.' + +'Which we will,' said Lew, looking tenderly at the ragged and ill-made +housewife that Cris had given him, with a lock of her hair worked into +a sprawling 'L' upon the cover. + +'It was the best I could,' she sobbed. 'I wouldn't let mother nor the +Sergeants' tailor 'elp me. Keep it always, Piggy, an' remember I love +you true.' + +They marched to the railway station, nine hundred and sixty strong, +and every soul in cantonments turned out to see them go. The drummers +gnashed their teeth at Jakin and Lew marching with the Band, the +married women wept upon the platform, and the Regiment cheered its +noble self black in the face. + +'A nice level lot,' said the Colonel to the Second-in-Command as they +watched the first four companies entraining. + +'Fit to do anything,' said the Second-in-Command enthusiastically. +'But it seems to me they're a thought too young and tender for the +work in hand. It's bitter cold up at the Front now.' + +'They're sound enough,' said the Colonel. 'We must take our chance of +sick casualties.' + +So they went northward, ever northward, past droves and droves of +camels, armies of camp followers, and legions of laden mules, the +throng thickening day by day, till with a shriek the train pulled up +at a hopelessly congested junction where six lines of temporary track +accommodated six forty-waggon trains; where whistles blew, Babus +sweated, and Commissariat officers swore from dawn till far into the +night amid the wind-driven chaff of the fodder-bales and the lowing of +a thousand steers. + +'Hurry up--you're badly wanted at the Front,' was the message that +greeted the Fore and Aft, and the occupants of the Red Cross carriages +told the same tale. + +''Tisn't so much the bloomin' fightin',' gasped a headbound trooper of +Hussars to a knot of admiring Fore and Afts. ''Tisn't so much the +bloomin' fightin', though there's enough o' that. It's the bloomin' +food an' the bloomin' climate. Frost all night 'cept when it hails, +and biling sun all day, and the water stinks fit to knock you down. I +got my 'ead chipped like a egg; I've got pneumonia too, an' my guts is +all out o' order. 'Tain't no bloomin' picnic in those parts, I can +tell you.' + +'Wot are the niggers like?' demanded a private. + +'There's some prisoners in that train yonder. Go an' look at 'em. +They're the aristocracy o' the country. The common folk are a dashed +sight uglier. If you want to know what they fight with, reach under my +seat an' pull out the long knife that's there.' + +They dragged out and beheld for the first time the grim, bone-handled, +triangular Afghan knife. It was almost as long as Lew. + +'That's the thing to jint ye,' said the trooper feebly. 'It can take +off a man's arm at the shoulder as easy as slicing butter. I halved +the beggar that used that 'un, but there's more of his likes up above. +They don't understand thrustin', but they're devils to slice.' + +The men strolled across the tracks to inspect the Afghan prisoners. +They were unlike any 'niggers' that the Fore and Aft had ever +met--these huge, black-haired, scowling sons of the Beni-Israel. As +the men stared the Afghans spat freely and muttered one to another +with lowered eyes. + +'My eyes! Wot awful swine!' said Jakin, who was in the rear of the +procession. 'Say, old man, how you got _puckrowed_, eh? _Kiswasti_ you +wasn't hanged for your ugly face, hey?' + +The tallest of the company turned, his leg-irons clanking at the +movement, and stared at the boy. 'See!' he cried to his fellows in +Pushto. 'They send children against us. What a people, and what +fools!' + + [Illustration: The men strolled across the tracks to inspect + the Afghan prisoners.--P. 50.] + +'_Hya!_' said Jakin, nodding his head cheerily. 'You go down-country. +_Khana_ get, _peenikapanee_ get--live like a bloomin' Raja _ke +marfik_. That's a better _bandobust_ than baynit get it in your +innards. Good-bye, ole man. Take care o' your beautiful figure-'ad, +an' try to look _kushy_.' + +The men laughed and fell in for their first march, when they began to +realise that a soldier's life was not all beer and skittles. They were +much impressed with the size and bestial ferocity of the niggers whom +they had now learned to call 'Paythans,' and more with the exceeding +discomfort of their own surroundings. Twenty old soldiers in the corps +would have taught them how to make themselves moderately snug at +night, but they had no old soldiers, and, as the troops on the line of +march said, 'they lived like pigs.' They learned the heart-breaking +cussedness of camp-kitchens and camels and the depravity of an E.P. +tent and a wither-wrung mule. They studied animalculae in water, and +developed a few cases of dysentery in their study. + +At the end of their third march they were disagreeably surprised by +the arrival in their camp of a hammered iron slug which, fired from a +steady rest at seven hundred yards, flicked out the brains of a +private seated by the fire. This robbed them of their peace for a +night, and was the beginning of a long-range fire carefully calculated +to that end. In the daytime they saw nothing except an unpleasant puff +of smoke from a crag above the line of march. At night there were +distant spurts of flame and occasional casualties, which set the whole +camp blazing into the gloom and, occasionally, into opposite tents. +Then they swore vehemently and vowed that this was magnificent, but +not war. + +Indeed it was not. The Regiment could not halt for reprisals against +the sharpshooters of the countryside. Its duty was to go forward and +make connection with the Scotch and Gurkha troops with which it was +brigaded. The Afghans knew this, and knew too, after their first +tentative shots, that they were dealing with a raw regiment. +Thereafter they devoted themselves to the task of keeping the Fore and +Aft on the strain. Not for anything would they have taken equal +liberties with a seasoned corps--with the wicked little Gurkhas, whose +delight it was to lie out in the open on a dark night and stalk their +stalkers--with the terrible, big men dressed in women's clothes, who +could be heard praying to their God in the night-watches, and whose +peace of mind no amount of 'sniping' could shake--or with those vile +Sikhs, who marched so ostentatiously unprepared and who dealt out such +grim reward to those who tried to profit by that unpreparedness. This +white regiment was different--quite different. It slept like a hog, +and, like a hog, charged in every direction when it was roused. Its +sentries walked with a footfall that could be heard for a quarter of a +mile, would fire at anything that moved--even a driven donkey--and +when they had once fired, could be scientifically 'rushed' and laid +out a horror and an offence against the morning sun. Then there were +camp-followers who straggled and could be cut up without fear. Their +shrieks would disturb the white boys, and the loss of their services +would inconvenience them sorely. + +Thus, at every march, the hidden enemy became bolder and the regiment +writhed and twisted under attacks it could not avenge. The crowning +triumph was a sudden night-rush ending in the cutting of many +tent-ropes, the collapse of the sodden canvas, and a glorious knifing +of the men who struggled and kicked below. It was a great deed, neatly +carried out, and it shook the already shaken nerves of the Fore and +Aft. All the courage that they had been required to exercise up to +this point was the 'two o'clock in the morning courage'; and, so far, +they had only succeeded in shooting their comrades and losing their +sleep. + +Sullen, discontented, cold, savage, sick, with their uniforms dulled +and unclean, the Fore and Aft joined their Brigade. + +'I hear you had a tough time of it coming up,' said the Brigadier. But +when he saw the hospital-sheets his face fell. + +'This is bad,' said he to himself. 'They're as rotten as sheep.' And +aloud to the Colonel--'I'm afraid we can't spare you just yet. We want +all we have, else I should have given you ten days to recover in.' + +The Colonel winced. 'On my honour, Sir,' he returned, 'there is not +the least necessity to think of sparing us. My men have been rather +mauled and upset without a fair return. They only want to go in +somewhere where they can see what's before them.' + +'Can't say I think much of the Fore and Fit,' said the Brigadier in +confidence to his Brigade-Major. 'They've lost all their soldiering, +and, by the trim of them, might have marched through the country from +the other side. A more fagged-out set of men I never put eyes on.' + +'Oh, they'll improve as the work goes on. The parade gloss has been +rubbed off a little, but they'll put on field polish before long,' +said the Brigade-Major. 'They've been mauled, and they don't quite +understand it.' + +They did not. All the hitting was on one side, and it was cruelly hard +hitting with accessories that made them sick. There was also the real +sickness that laid hold of a strong man and dragged him howling to the +grave. Worst of all, their officers knew just as little of the country +as the men themselves, and looked as if they did. The Fore and Aft +were in a thoroughly unsatisfactory condition, but they believed that +all would be well if they could once get a fair go-in at the enemy. +Pot-shots up and down the valleys were unsatisfactory, and the bayonet +never seemed to get a chance. Perhaps it was as well, for a +long-limbed Afghan with a knife had a reach of eight feet, and could +carry away lead that would disable three Englishmen. + +The Fore and Fit would like some rifle-practice at the enemy--all +seven hundred rifles blazing together. That wish showed the mood of +the men. + +The Gurkhas walked into their camp, and in broken, barrack-room +English strove to fraternise with them; offered them pipes of tobacco +and stood them treat at the canteen. But the Fore and Aft, not knowing +much of the nature of the Gurkhas, treated them as they would treat +any other 'niggers,' and the little men in green trotted back to their +firm friends the Highlanders, and with many grins confided to them: +'That dam white regiment no dam use. Sulky--ugh! Dirty--ugh! Hya, any +tot for Johnny?' Whereat the Highlanders smote the Gurkhas as to the +head, and told them not to vilify a British Regiment, and the Gurkhas +grinned cavernously, for the Highlanders were their elder brothers and +entitled to the privileges of kinship. The common soldier who touches +a Gurkha is more than likely to have his head sliced open. + +Three days later the Brigadier arranged a battle according to the +rules of war and the peculiarity of the Afghan temperament. The enemy +were massing in inconvenient strength among the hills, and the moving +of many green standards warned him that the tribes were 'up' in aid of +the Afghan regular troops. A squadron and a half of Bengal Lancers +represented the available Cavalry, and two screw-guns borrowed from a +column thirty miles away the Artillery at the General's disposal. + +'If they stand, as I've a very strong notion that they will, I fancy +we shall see an infantry fight that will be worth watching,' said the +Brigadier. 'We'll do it in style. Each regiment shall be played into +action by its Band, and we'll hold the Cavalry in reserve.' + +'For _all_ the reserve?' somebody asked. + +'For all the reserve; because we're going to crumple them up,' said +the Brigadier, who was an extraordinary Brigadier, and did not believe +in the value of a reserve when dealing with Asiatics. Indeed, when +you come to think of it, had the British Army consistently waited for +reserves in all its little affairs, the boundaries of Our Empire would +have stopped at Brighton beach. + +That battle was to be a glorious battle. + +The three regiments debouching from three separate gorges, after duly +crowning the heights above, were to converge from the centre, left, +and right upon what we will call the Afghan army, then stationed +towards the lower extremity of a flat-bottomed valley. Thus it will be +seen that three sides of the valley practically belonged to the +English, while the fourth was strictly Afghan property. In the event +of defeat the Afghans had the rocky hills to fly to, where the fire +from the guerilla tribes in aid would cover their retreat. In the +event of victory these same tribes would rush down and lend their +weight to the rout of the British. + +The screw-guns were to shell the head of each Afghan rush that was +made in close formation, and the Cavalry, held in reserve in the right +valley, were to gently stimulate the break-up which would follow on +the combined attack. The Brigadier, sitting upon a rock overlooking +the valley, would watch the battle unrolled at his feet. The Fore and +Aft would debouch from the central gorge, the Gurkhas from the left, +and the Highlanders from the right, for the reason that the left +flank of the enemy seemed as though it required the most hammering. It +was not every day that an Afghan force would take ground in the open, +and the Brigadier was resolved to make the most of it. + +'If we only had a few more men,' he said plaintively, 'we could +surround the creatures and crumple 'em up thoroughly. As it is, I'm +afraid we can only cut them up as they run. It's a great pity.' + +The Fore and Aft had enjoyed unbroken peace for five days, and were +beginning, in spite of dysentery, to recover their nerve. But they +were not happy, for they did not know the work in hand, and had they +known, would not have known how to do it. Throughout those five days +in which old soldiers might have taught them the craft of the game, +they discussed together their misadventures in the past--how such an +one was alive at dawn and dead ere the dusk, and with what shrieks and +struggles such another had given up his soul under the Afghan knife. +Death was a new and horrible thing to the sons of mechanics who were +used to die decently of zymotic disease; and their careful +conservation in barracks had done nothing to make them look upon it +with less dread. + +Very early in the dawn the bugles began to blow, and the Fore and +Aft, filled with a misguided enthusiasm, turned out without waiting +for a cup of coffee and a biscuit; and were rewarded by being kept +under arms in the cold while the other regiments leisurely prepared +for the fray. All the world knows that it is ill taking the breeks off +a Highlander. It is much iller to try to make him stir unless he is +convinced of the necessity for haste. + +The Fore and Aft waited, leaning upon their rifles and listening to +the protests of their empty stomachs. The Colonel did his best to +remedy the default of lining as soon as it was borne in upon him that +the affair would not begin at once, and so well did he succeed that +the coffee was just ready when--the men moved off, their Band leading. +Even then there had been a mistake in time, and the Fore and Aft came +out into the valley ten minutes before the proper hour. Their Band +wheeled to the right after reaching the open, and retired behind a +little rocky knoll, still playing while the regiment went past. + +It was not a pleasant sight that opened on the uninstructed view, for +the lower end of the valley appeared to be filled by an army in +position--real and actual regiments attired in red coats, and--of this +there was no doubt--firing Martini-Henry bullets which cut up the +ground a hundred yards in front of the leading company. Over that +pock-marked ground the regiment had to pass, and it opened the ball +with a general and profound courtesy to the piping pickets; ducking in +perfect time, as though it had been brazed on a rod. Being +half-capable of thinking for itself, it fired a volley by the simple +process of pitching its rifle into its shoulder and pulling the +trigger. The bullets may have accounted for some of the watchers on +the hillside, but they certainly did not affect the mass of enemy in +front, while the noise of the rifles drowned any orders that might +have been given. + +'Good God!' said the Brigadier, sitting on the rock high above all. +'That regiment has spoilt the whole show. Hurry up the others, and let +the screw-guns get off.' + +But the screw-guns, in working round the heights, had stumbled upon a +wasp's nest of a small mud fort which they incontinently shelled at +eight hundred yards, to the huge discomfort of the occupants, who were +unaccustomed to weapons of such devilish precision. + +The Fore and Aft continued to go forward, but with shortened stride. +Where were the other regiments, and why did these niggers use +Martinis? They took open order instinctively, lying down and firing at +random, rushing a few paces forward and lying down again, according to +the regulations. Once in this formation, each man felt himself +desperately alone, and edged in towards his fellow for comfort's sake. + +Then the crack of his neighbour's rifle at his ear led him to fire as +rapidly as he could--again for the sake of the comfort of the noise. +The reward was not long delayed. Five volleys plunged the files in +banked smoke impenetrable to the eye, and the bullets began to take +ground twenty or thirty yards in front of the firers, as the weight of +the bayonet dragged down and to the right arms wearied with holding +the kick of the leaping Martini. The Company Commanders peered +helplessly through the smoke, the more nervous mechanically trying to +fan it away with their helmets. + +'High and to the left!' bawled a Captain till he was hoarse. 'No good! +Cease firing, and let it drift away a bit.' + +Three and four times the bugles shrieked the order, and when it was +obeyed the Fore and Aft looked that their foe should be lying before +them in mown swaths of men. A light wind drove the smoke to leeward, +and showed the enemy still in position and apparently unaffected. A +quarter of a ton of lead had been buried a furlong in front of them, +as the ragged earth attested. + +That was not demoralising to the Afghans, who have not European +nerves. They were waiting for the mad riot to die down, and were +firing quietly into the heart of the smoke. A private of the Fore and +Aft spun up his company shrieking with agony, another was kicking the +earth and gasping, and a third, ripped through the lower intestines by +a jagged bullet, was calling aloud on his comrades to put him out of +his pain. These were the casualties, and they were not soothing to +hear or see. The smoke cleared to a dull haze. + +Then the foe began to shout with a great shouting, and a mass--a black +mass--detached itself from the main body, and rolled over the ground +at horrid speed. It was composed of, perhaps, three hundred men, who +would shout and fire and slash if the rush of their fifty comrades who +were determined to die carried home. The fifty were Ghazis, +half-maddened with drugs and wholly mad with religious fanaticism. +When they rushed the British fire ceased, and in the lull the order +was given to close ranks and meet them with the bayonet. + +Any one who knew the business could have told the Fore and Aft that +the only way of dealing with a Ghazi rush is by volleys at long +ranges; because a man who means to die, who desires to die, who will +gain heaven by dying, must, in nine cases out of ten, kill a man who +has a lingering prejudice in favour of life. Where they should have +closed and gone forward, the Fore and Aft opened out and skirmished, +and where they should have opened out and fired, they closed and +waited. + +A man dragged from his blankets half awake and unfed is never in a +pleasant frame of mind. Nor does his happiness increase when he +watches the whites of the eyes of three hundred six-foot fiends upon +whose beards the foam is lying, upon whose tongues is a roar of wrath, +and in whose hands are yard-long knives. + +The Fore and Aft heard the Gurkha bugles bringing that regiment +forward at the double, while the neighing of the Highland pipes came +from the left. They strove to stay where they were, though the +bayonets wavered down the line like the oars of a ragged boat. Then +they felt body to body the amazing physical strength of their foes; a +shriek of pain ended the rush, and the knives fell amid scenes not to +be told. The men clubbed together and smote blindly--as often as not +at their own fellows. Their front crumpled like paper, and the fifty +Ghazis passed on; their backers, now drunk with success, fighting as +madly as they. + +Then the rear-ranks were bidden to close up, and the subalterns dashed +into the stew--alone. For the rear-rank had heard the clamour in +front, the yells and the howls of pain, and had seen the dark stale +blood that makes afraid. They were not going to stay. It was the +rushing of the camps over again. Let their officers go to Hell, if +they chose; they would get away from the knives. + +'Come on!' shrieked the subalterns, and their men, cursing them, drew +back, each closing into his neighbour and wheeling round. + +Charteris and Devlin, subalterns of the last company, faced their +death alone in the belief that their men would follow. + +'You've killed me, you cowards,' sobbed Devlin and dropped, cut from +the shoulder-strap to the centre of the chest, and a fresh detachment +of his men retreating, always retreating, trampled him under foot as +they made for the pass whence they had emerged. + + I kissed her in the kitchen and I kissed her in the hall. + Child'un, child'un, follow me! + Oh Golly, said the cook, is he gwine to kiss us all? + Halla--Halla--Halla--Hallelujah! + +The Gurkhas were pouring through the left gorge and over the heights +at the double to the invitation of their Regimental Quick-step. The +black rocks were crowned with dark green spiders as the bugles gave +tongue jubilantly:-- + + In the morning! In the morning _by_ the bright light! + When Gabriel blows his trumpet in the morning! + +The Gurkha rear-companies tripped and blundered over loose stones. The +front-files halted for a moment to take stock of the valley and to +settle stray boot-laces. Then a happy little sigh of contentment +soughed down the ranks, and it was as though the land smiled, for +behold there below was the enemy, and it was to meet them that the +Gurkhas had doubled so hastily. There was much enemy. There would be +amusement. The little men hitched their _kukris_ well to hand, and +gaped expectantly at their officers as terriers grin ere the stone is +cast for them to fetch. The Gurkhas' ground sloped downward to the +valley, and they enjoyed a fair view of the proceedings. They sat upon +the boulders to watch, for their officers were not going to waste +their wind in assisting to repulse a Ghazi rush more than half a mile +away. Let the white men look to their own front. + +'Hi! yi!' said the Subadar-Major, who was sweating profusely. 'Dam +fools yonder, stand close-order! This is no time for close-order, it +is the time for volleys. Ugh!' + +Horrified, amused, and indignant, the Gurkhas beheld the retirement of +the Fore and Aft with a running chorus of oaths and commentaries. + +'They run! The white men run! Colonel Sahib, may _we_ also do a little +running?' murmured Runbir Thappa, the Senior Jemadar. + +But the Colonel would have none of it. 'Let the beggars be cut up a +little,' said he wrathfully. ''Serves 'em right. They'll be prodded +into facing round in a minute.' He looked through his field-glasses, +and caught the glint of an officer's sword. + +'Beating 'em with the flat--damned conscripts! How the Ghazis are +walking into them!' said he. + +The Fore and Aft, heading back, bore with them their officers. The +narrowness of the pass forced the mob into solid formation, and the +rear-rank delivered some sort of a wavering volley. The Ghazis drew +off, for they did not know what reserves the gorge might hide. +Moreover, it was never wise to chase white men too far. They returned +as wolves return to cover, satisfied with the slaughter that they had +done, and only stopping to slash at the wounded on the ground. A +quarter of a mile had the Fore and Aft retreated, and now, jammed in +the pass, was quivering with pain, shaken and demoralised with fear, +while the officers, maddened beyond control, smote the men with the +hilts and the flats of their swords. + +'Get back! Get back, you cowards--you women! Right about face--column +of companies, form--you hounds!' shouted the Colonel, and the +subalterns swore aloud. But the Regiment wanted to go--to go anywhere +out of the range of those merciless knives. It swayed to and fro +irresolutely with shouts and outcries, while from the right the +Gurkhas dropped volley after volley of cripple-stopper Snider bullets +at long range into the mob of the Ghazis returning to their own +troops. + +The Fore and Aft Band, though protected from direct fire by the rocky +knoll under which it had sat down, fled at the first rush. Jakin and +Lew would have fled also, but their short legs left them fifty yards +in the rear, and by the time the Band had mixed with the regiment, +they were painfully aware that they would have to close in alone and +unsupported. + +'Get back to that rock,' gasped Jakin. 'They won't see us there.' + +And they returned to the scattered instruments of the Band; their +hearts nearly bursting their ribs. + +'Here's a nice show for _us_,' said Jakin, throwing himself full +length on the ground. 'A bloomin' fine show for British Infantry! Oh, +the devils! They've gone an' left us alone here! Wot'll we do?' + +Lew took possession of a cast-off water bottle, which naturally was +full of canteen rum, and drank till he coughed again. + +'Drink,' said he shortly.' They'll come back in a minute or two--you +see.' + +Jakin drank, but there was no sign of the Regiment's return. They +could hear a dull clamour from the head of the valley of retreat, and +saw the Ghazis slink back, quickening their pace as the Gurkhas fired +at them. + +'We're all that's left of the Band, an' we'll be cut up as sure as +death,' said Jakin. + +'I'll die game, then,' said Lew thickly, fumbling with his tiny +drummer's sword. The drink was working on his brain as it was on +Jakin's. + +''Old on! I know something better than fightin',' said Jakin, 'stung +by the splendour of a sudden thought' due chiefly to rum. 'Tip our +bloomin' cowards yonder the word to come back. The Paythan beggars are +well away. Come on, Lew! We won't get hurt. Take the fife and give me +the drum. The Old Step for all your bloomin' guts are worth! There's a +few of our men coming back now. Stand up, ye drunken little defaulter. +By your right--quick march!' + +He slipped the drum-sling over his shoulder, thrust the fife into +Lew's hand, and the two boys marched out of the cover of the rock into +the open, making a hideous hash of the first bars of the 'British +Grenadiers.' + +As Jakin had said, a few of the Fore and Aft were coming back sullenly +and shamefacedly under the stimulus of blows and abuse; their red +coats shone at the head of the valley, and behind them were wavering +bayonets. But between this shattered line and the enemy, who with +Afghan suspicion feared that the hasty retreat meant an ambush, and +had not moved therefore, lay half a mile of level ground dotted only +by the wounded. + + [Illustration: The tune settled into full swing, and the boys + kept shoulder to shoulder.--P. 69.] + +The tune settled into full swing and the boys kept shoulder to +shoulder, Jakin banging the drum as one possessed. The one fife made a +thin and pitiful squeaking, but the tune carried far, even to the +Gurkhas. + +'Come on, you dogs!' muttered Jakin to himself. 'Are we to play for +hever?' Lew was staring straight in front of him and marching more +stiffly than ever he had done on parade. + +And in bitter mockery of the distant mob, the old tune of the Old Line +shrilled and rattled:-- + + Some talk of Alexander, + And some of Hercules; + Of Hector and Lysander, + And such great names as these! + +There was a far-off clapping of hands from the Gurkhas, and a roar +from the Highlanders in the distance, but never a shot was fired by +British or Afghan. The two little red dots moved forward in the open +parallel to the enemy's front. + + But of all the world's great heroes + There's none that can compare, + With a tow-row-row-row-row-row, + To the British Grenadier! + +The men of the Fore and Aft were gathering thick at the entrance to +the plain. The Brigadier on the heights far above was speechless with +rage. Still no movement from the enemy. The day stayed to watch the +children. + +Jakin halted and beat the long roll of the Assembly, while the fife +squealed despairingly. + +'Right about face! Hold up, Lew, you're drunk,' said Jakin. They +wheeled and marched back:-- + + Those heroes of antiquity + Ne'er saw a cannon-ball, + Nor knew the force o' powder, + +'Here they come!' said Jakin. 'Go on, Lew':-- + + To scare their foes withal! + +The Fore and Aft were pouring out of the valley. What officers had +said to men in that time of shame and humiliation will never be known; +for neither officers nor men speak of it now. + +'They are coming anew!' shouted a priest among the Afghans. 'Do not +kill the boys! Take them alive and they shall be of our faith.' + +But the first volley had been fired, and Lew dropped on his face. +Jakin stood for a minute, spun round and collapsed, as the Fore and +Aft came forward, the curses of their officers in their ears, and in +their hearts the shame of open shame. + +Half the men had seen the drummers die, and they made no sign. They +did not even shout. They doubled out straight across the plain in open +order, and they did not fire. + +'This,' said the Colonel of Gurkhas softly, 'is the real attack, as it +should have been delivered. Come on, my children.' + +'Ulu-lu-lu-lu!' squealed the Gurkhas, and came down with a joyful +clicking of _kukris_--those vicious Gurkha knives. + +On the right there was no rush. The Highlanders, cannily commending +their souls to God (for it matters as much to a dead man whether he +has been shot in a Border scuffle or at Waterloo), opened out and +fired according to their custom, that is to say without heat and +without intervals, while the screw-guns, having disposed of the +impertinent mud fort aforementioned, dropped shell after shell into +the clusters round the flickering green standards on the heights. + +'Charrging is an unfortunate necessity,' murmured the Colour-Sergeant +of the right company of the Highlanders. 'It makes the men sweer so, +but I am thinkin' that it will come to a charrge if these black devils +stand much longer. Stewarrt, man, you're firing into the eye of the +sun, and he'll not take any harm for Government ammuneetion. A foot +lower and a great deal slower! What are the English doing? They're +very quiet there in the centre. Running again?' + +The English were not running. They were hacking and hewing and +stabbing, for though one white man is seldom physically a match for an +Afghan in a sheepskin or wadded coat, yet, through the pressure of +many white men behind, and a certain thirst for revenge in his heart, +he becomes capable of doing much with both ends of his rifle. The Fore +and Aft held their fire till one bullet could drive through five or +six men, and the front of the Afghan force gave on the volley. They +then selected their men, and slew them with deep gasps and short +hacking coughs, and groanings of leather belts against strained +bodies, and realised for the first time that an Afghan attacked is far +less formidable than an Afghan attacking: which fact old soldiers +might have told them. + +But they had no old soldiers in their ranks. + +The Gurkhas' stall at the bazar was the noisiest, for the men were +engaged--to a nasty noise as of beef being cut on the block--with the +_kukri_, which they preferred to the bayonet; well knowing how the +Afghan hates the half-moon blade. + +As the Afghans wavered, the green standards on the mountain moved down +to assist them in a last rally. This was unwise. The Lancers chafing +in the right gorge had thrice despatched their only subaltern as +galloper to report on the progress of affairs. On the third occasion +he returned, with a bullet-graze on his knee, swearing strange oaths +in Hindustani, and saying that all things were ready. So that Squadron +swung round the right of the Highlanders with a wicked whistling of +wind in the pennons of its lances, and fell upon the remnant just +when, according to all the rules of war, it should have waited for the +foe to show more signs of wavering. + +But it was a dainty charge, deftly delivered, and it ended by the +Cavalry finding itself at the head of the pass by which the Afghans +intended to retreat; and down the track that the lances had made +streamed two companies of the Highlanders, which was never intended by +the Brigadier. The new development was successful. It detached the +enemy from his base as a sponge is torn from a rock, and left him +ringed about with fire in that pitiless plain. And as a sponge is +chased round the bath-tub by the hand of the bather, so were the +Afghans chased till they broke into little detachments much more +difficult to dispose of than large masses. + +'See!' quoth the Brigadier. 'Everything has come as I arranged. We've +cut their base, and now we'll bucket 'em to pieces.' + +A direct hammering was all that the Brigadier had dared to hope for, +considering the size of the force at his disposal; but men who stand +or fall by the errors of their opponents may be forgiven for turning +Chance into Design. The bucketing went forward merrily. The Afghan +forces were upon the run--the run of wearied wolves who snarl and bite +over their shoulders. The red lances dipped by twos and threes, and, +with a shriek, up rose the lance-butt, like a spar on a stormy sea, as +the trooper cantering forward cleared his point. The Lancers kept +between their prey and the steep hills, for all who could were trying +to escape from the valley of death. The Highlanders gave the fugitives +two hundred yards' law, and then brought them down, gasping and +choking ere they could reach the protection of the boulders above. The +Gurkhas followed suit; but the Fore and Aft were killing on their own +account, for they had penned a mass of men between their bayonets and +a wall of rock, and the flash of the rifles was lighting the wadded +coats. + +'We cannot hold them, Captain Sahib!' panted a Ressaidar of Lancers. +'Let us try the carbine. The lance is good, but it wastes time.' + +They tried the carbine, and still the enemy melted away--fled up the +hills by hundreds when there were only twenty bullets to stop them. On +the heights the screw-guns ceased firing--they had run out of +ammunition--and the Brigadier groaned, for the musketry fire could not +sufficiently smash the retreat. Long before the last volleys were +fired, the doolies were out in force looking for the wounded. The +battle was over, and, but for want of fresh troops, the Afghans would +have been wiped off the earth. As it was they counted their dead by +hundreds, and nowhere were the dead thicker than in the track of the +Fore and Aft. + +But the Regiment did not cheer with the Highlanders, nor did they +dance uncouth dances with the Gurkhas among the dead. They looked +under their brows at the Colonel as they leaned upon their rifles and +panted. + +'Get back to camp, you. Haven't you disgraced yourself enough for one +day! Go and look to the wounded. It's all you're fit for,' said the +Colonel. Yet for the past hour the Fore and Aft had been doing all +that mortal commander could expect. They had lost heavily because they +did not know how to set about their business with proper skill, but +they had borne themselves gallantly, and this was their reward. + +A young and sprightly Colour-Sergeant, who had begun to imagine +himself a hero, offered his water-bottle to a Highlander, whose tongue +was black with thirst. 'I drink with no cowards,' answered the +youngster huskily, and, turning to a Gurkha, said, 'Hya, Johnny! Drink +water got it?' The Gurkha grinned and passed his bottle. The Fore and +Aft said no word. + +They went back to camp when the field of strife had been a little +mopped up and made presentable, and the Brigadier, who saw himself a +Knight in three months, was the only soul who was complimentary to +them. The Colonel was heart-broken, and the officers were savage and +sullen. + +'Well,' said the Brigadier, 'they are young troops of course, and it +was not unnatural that they should retire in disorder for a bit.' + +'Oh, my only Aunt Maria!' murmured a junior Staff Officer. 'Retire in +disorder! It was a bally run!' + +'But they came again, as we all know,' cooed the Brigadier, the +Colonel's ashy-white face before him, 'and they behaved as well as +could possibly be expected. Behaved beautifully, indeed. I was +watching them. It's not a matter to take to heart, Colonel. As some +German General said of his men, they wanted to be shooted over a +little, that was all.' To himself he said--'Now they're blooded I can +give 'em responsible work. It's as well that they got what they did. +'Teach 'em more than half-a-dozen rifle flirtations, that +will--later--run alone and bite. Poor old Colonel, though.' + +All that afternoon the heliograph winked and flickered on the hills, +striving to tell the good news to a mountain forty miles away. And in +the evening there arrived, dusty, sweating, and sore, a misguided +Correspondent, who had gone out to assist at a trumpery +village-burning, and who had read off the message from afar, cursing +his luck the while. + +'Let's have the details somehow--as full as ever you can, please. It's +the first time I've ever been left this campaign,' said the +Correspondent to the Brigadier; and the Brigadier, nothing loath, told +him how an Army of Communication had been crumpled up, destroyed, and +all but annihilated, by the craft, strategy, wisdom, and foresight of +the Brigadier. + +But some say, and among these be the Gurkhas who watched on the +hillside, that that battle was won by Jakin and Lew, whose little +bodies were borne up just in time to fit two gaps at the head of the +big ditch-grave for the dead under the heights of Jagai. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE MAN WHO WAS + + The Earth gave up her dead that tide, + Into our camp he came, + And said his say, and went his way, + And left our hearts aflame. + + Keep tally--on the gun-butt score + The vengeance we must take, + When God shall bring full reckoning, + For our dead comrade's sake. + + _Ballad._ + +Let it be clearly understood that the Russian is a delightful person +till he tucks in his shirt. As an Oriental he is charming. It is only +when he insists upon being treated as the most easterly of western +peoples instead of the most westerly of easterns that he becomes a +racial anomaly extremely difficult to handle. The host never knows +which side of his nature is going to turn up next. + +Dirkovitch was a Russian--a Russian of the Russians--who appeared to +get his bread by serving the Czar as an officer in a Cossack regiment, +and corresponding for a Russian newspaper with a name that was never +twice alike. He was a handsome young Oriental, fond of wandering +through unexplored portions of the earth, and he arrived in India from +nowhere in particular. At least no living man could ascertain whether +it was by way of Balkh, Badakshan, Chitral, Beluchistan, or Nepaul, or +anywhere else. The Indian Government, being in an unusually affable +mood, gave orders that he was to be civilly treated and shown +everything that was to be seen. So he drifted, talking bad English and +worse French, from one city to another, till he foregathered with Her +Majesty's White Hussars in the city of Peshawur, which stands at the +mouth of that narrow swordcut in the hills that men call the Khyber +Pass. He was undoubtedly an officer, and he was decorated after the +manner of the Russians with little enamelled crosses, and he could +talk, and (though this has nothing to do with his merits) he had been +given up as a hopeless task, or cask, by the Black Tyrone, who +individually and collectively, with hot whisky and honey, mulled +brandy, and mixed spirits of every kind, had striven in all +hospitality to make him drunk. And when the Black Tyrone, who are +exclusively Irish, fail to disturb the peace of head of a +foreigner--that foreigner is certain to be a superior man. + +The White Hussars were as conscientious in choosing their wine as in +charging the enemy. All that they possessed, including some wondrous +brandy, was placed at the absolute disposition of Dirkovitch, and he +enjoyed himself hugely--even more than among the Black Tyrones. + +But he remained distressingly European through it all. The White +Hussars were 'My dear true friends,' 'Fellow-soldiers glorious,' and +'Brothers inseparable.' He would unburden himself by the hour on the +glorious future that awaited the combined arms of England and Russia +when their hearts and their territories should run side by side and +the great mission of civilising Asia should begin. That was +unsatisfactory, because Asia is not going to be civilised after the +methods of the West. There is too much Asia and she is too old. You +cannot reform a lady of many lovers, and Asia has been insatiable in +her flirtations aforetime. She will never attend Sunday school or +learn to vote save with swords for tickets. + +Dirkovitch knew this as well as any one else, but it suited him to +talk special-correspondently and to make himself as genial as he +could. Now and then he volunteered a little, a very little, +information about his own sotnia of Cossacks, left apparently to look +after themselves somewhere at the back of beyond. He had done rough +work in Central Asia, and had seen rather more help-your-self +fighting than most men of his years. But he was careful never to +betray his superiority, and more than careful to praise on all +occasions the appearance, drill, uniform, and organisation of Her +Majesty's White Hussars. And indeed they were a regiment to be +admired. When Lady Durgan, widow of the late Sir John Durgan, arrived +in their station, and after a short time had been proposed to by every +single man at mess, she put the public sentiment very neatly when she +explained that they were all so nice that unless she could marry them +all, including the Colonel and some majors already married, she was +not going to content herself with one hussar. Wherefore she wedded a +little man in a rifle regiment, being by nature contradictious; and +the White Hussars were going to wear crape on their arms, but +compromised by attending the wedding in full force, and lining the +aisle with unutterable reproach. She had jilted them all--from +Basset-Holmer the senior captain to little Mildred the junior +subaltern, who could have given her four thousand a year and a title. + +The only person who did not share the general regard for the White +Hussars were a few thousand gentlemen of Jewish extraction who lived +across the border, and answered to the name of Paythan. They had once +met the regiment officially and for something less than twenty +minutes, but the interview, which was complicated with many +casualties, had filled them with prejudice. They even called the White +Hussars children of the devil and sons of persons whom it would be +perfectly impossible to meet in decent society. Yet they were not +above making their aversion fill their money-belts. The regiment +possessed carbines--beautiful Martini-Henri carbines that would lop a +bullet into an enemy's camp at one thousand yards, and were even +handier than the long rifle. Therefore they were coveted all along the +border, and since demand inevitably breeds supply, they were supplied +at the risk of life and limb for exactly their weight in coined +silver--seven and one-half pounds weight of rupees, or sixteen pounds +sterling reckoning the rupee at par. They were stolen at night by +snaky-haired thieves who crawled on their stomachs under the nose of +the sentries; they disappeared mysteriously from locked arm-racks, and +in the hot weather when all the barrack doors and windows were open, +they vanished like puffs of their own smoke. The border people desired +them for family vendettas and contingencies. But in the long cold +nights of the northern Indian winter they were stolen most +extensively. The traffic of murder was liveliest among the hills at +that season, and prices ruled high. The regimental guards were first +doubled and then trebled. A trooper does not much care if he loses a +weapon--Government must make it good--but he deeply resents the loss +of his sleep. The regiment grew very angry, and one rifle-thief bears +the visible marks of their anger upon him to this hour. That incident +stopped the burglaries for a time, and the guards were reduced +accordingly, and the regiment devoted itself to polo with unexpected +results; for it beat by two goals to one that very terrible polo corps +the Lushkar Light Horse, though the latter had four ponies apiece for +a short hour's fight, as well as a native officer who played like a +lambent flame across the ground. + +They gave a dinner to celebrate the event. The Lushkar team came, and +Dirkovitch came, in the fullest full uniform of a Cossack officer, +which is as full as a dressing-gown, and was introduced to the +Lushkars, and opened his eyes as he regarded. They were lighter men +than the Hussars, and they carried themselves with the swing that is +the peculiar right of the Punjab Frontier Force and all Irregular +Horse. Like everything else in the Service it has to be learnt, but, +unlike many things, it is never forgotten, and remains on the body +till death. + +The great beam-roofed mess-room of the White Hussars was a sight to be +remembered. All the mess plate was out on the long table--the same +table that had served up the bodies of five officers after a forgotten +fight long and long ago--the dingy, battered standards faced the door +of entrance, clumps of winter-roses lay between the silver +candlesticks, and the portraits of eminent officers deceased looked +down on their successors from between the heads of sambhur, nilghai, +markhor, and, pride of all the mess, two grinning snow-leopards that +had cost Basset-Holmer four months' leave that he might have spent in +England, instead of on the road to Thibet and the daily risk of his +life by ledge, snow-slide, and grassy slope. + +The servants in spotless white muslin and the crest of their regiments +on the brow of their turbans waited behind their masters, who were +clad in the scarlet and gold of the White Hussars, and the cream and +silver of the Lushkar Light Horse. Dirkovitch's dull green uniform was +the only dark spot at the board, but his big onyx eyes made up for it. +He was fraternising effusively with the Captain of the Lushkar team, +who was wondering how many of Dirkovitch's Cossacks his own dark wiry +down-country-men could account for in a fair charge. But one does not +speak of these things openly. + + [Illustration: '_Rung ho_, Hira Singh!'--P. 85.] + +The talk rose higher and higher, and the regimental band played +between the courses, as is the immemorial custom, till all tongues +ceased for a moment with the removal of the dinner-slips and the first +toast of obligation, when an officer rising said, 'Mr. Vice, the +Queen,' and little Mildred from the bottom of the table answered, 'The +Queen, God bless her,' and the big spurs clanked as the big men +heaved themselves up and drank the Queen upon whose pay they were +falsely supposed to settle their mess-bills. That Sacrament of the +Mess never grows old, and never ceases to bring a lump into the throat +of the listener wherever he be by sea or by land. Dirkovitch rose with +his 'brothers glorious,' but he could not understand. No one but an +officer can tell what the toast means; and the bulk have more +sentiment than comprehension. Immediately after the little silence +that follows on the ceremony there entered the native officer who had +played for the Lushkar team. He could not, of course, eat with the +mess, but he came in at dessert, all six feet of him, with the blue +and silver turban atop, and the big black boots below. The mess rose +joyously as he thrust forward the hilt of his sabre in token of fealty +for the Colonel of the White Hussars to touch, and dropped in a vacant +chair amid shouts of: '_Rung ho_, Hira Singh' (which being translated +means 'Go in and win'). 'Did I whack you over the knee, old man?' +'Ressaidar Sahib, what the devil made you play that kicking pig of a +pony in the last ten minutes?' '_Shabash_, Ressaidar Sahib!' Then the +voice of the Colonel, 'The health of Ressaidar Hira Singh!' + +After the shouting had died away Hira Singh rose to reply, for he was +the cadet of a royal house, the son of a king's son, and knew what +was due on these occasions. Thus he spoke in the vernacular:--'Colonel +Sahib and officers of this regiment. Much honour have you done me. +This will I remember. We came down from afar to play you. But we were +beaten' ('No fault of yours, Ressaidar Sahib. Played on our own ground +y' know. Your ponies were cramped from the railway. Don't apologise!') +'Therefore perhaps we will come again if it be so ordained.' ('Hear! +Hear! Hear, indeed! Bravo! Hsh!') 'Then we will play you afresh' +('Happy to meet you.') 'till there are left no feet upon our ponies. +Thus far for sport.' He dropped one hand on his sword-hilt and his eye +wandered to Dirkovitch lolling back in his chair. 'But if by the will +of God there arises any other game which is not the polo game, then be +assured, Colonel Sahib and officers, that we will play it out side by +side, though _they_,' again his eye sought Dirkovitch, 'though _they_ +I say have fifty ponies to our one horse.' And with a deep-mouthed +_Rung ho!_ that sounded like a musket-butt on flagstones he sat down +amid leaping glasses. + +Dirkovitch, who had devoted himself steadily to the brandy,--the +terrible brandy aforementioned,--did not understand, nor did the +expurgated translations offered to him at all convey the point. +Decidedly Hira Singh's was the speech of the evening, and the clamour +might have continued to the dawn had it not been broken by the noise +of a shot without that sent every man feeling at his defenceless left +side. Then there was a scuffle and a yell of pain. + +'Carbine-stealing again!' said the Adjutant, calmly sinking back in +his chair. 'This comes of reducing the guards. I hope the sentries +have killed him.' + +The feet of armed men pounded on the veranda flags, and it was as +though something was being dragged. + +'Why don't they put him in the cells till the morning?' said the +Colonel testily. 'See if they've damaged him, Sergeant.' + +The mess-sergeant fled out into the darkness and returned with two +troopers and a Corporal, all very much perplexed. + +'Caught a man stealin' carbines, Sir,' said the Corporal. 'Leastways +'e was crawlin' towards the barricks, Sir, past the main road +sentries, an' the sentry 'e sez, Sir----' + +The limp heap of rags upheld by the three men groaned. Never was seen +so destitute and demoralised an Afghan. He was turbanless, shoeless, +caked with dirt, and all but dead with rough handling. Hira Singh +started slightly at the sound of the man's pain. Dirkovitch took +another glass of brandy. + +'_What_ does the sentry say?' said the Colonel. + +'Sez 'e speaks English, Sir,' said the Corporal. + +'So you brought him into mess instead of handing him over to the +sergeant! If he spoke all the Tongues of the Pentecost you've no +business----' + +Again the bundle groaned and muttered. Little Mildred had risen from +his place to inspect. He jumped back as though he had been shot. + +'Perhaps it would be better, Sir, to send the men away,' said he to +the Colonel, for he was a much privileged subaltern. He put his arms +round the rag-bound horror as he spoke, and dropped him into a chair. +It may not have been explained that the littleness of Mildred lay in +his being six feet four and big in proportion. The Corporal, seeing +that an officer was disposed to look after the capture, and that the +Colonel's eye was beginning to blaze, promptly removed himself and his +men. The mess was left alone with the carbine-thief, who laid his head +on the table and wept bitterly, hopelessly, and inconsolably, as +little children weep. + +Hira Singh leapt to his feet. 'Colonel Sahib,' said he, 'that man is +no Afghan, for they weep _Ai! Ai!_ Nor is he of Hindustan, for they +weep _Oh! Ho!_ He weeps after the fashion of the white men, who say +_Ow! Ow!_' + +'Now where the dickens did you get that knowledge, Hira Singh?' said +the Captain of the Lushkar team. + +'Hear him!' said Hira Singh simply, pointing at the crumpled figure +that wept as though it would never cease. + +'He said, "My God!"' said little Mildred. 'I heard him say it.' + +The Colonel and the mess-room looked at the man in silence. It is a +horrible thing to hear a man cry. A woman can sob from the top of her +palate, or her lips, or anywhere else, but a man must cry from his +diaphragm, and it rends him to pieces. + +'Poor devil!' said the Colonel, coughing tremendously. 'We ought to +send him to hospital. He's been man-handled.' + +Now the Adjutant loved his carbines. They were to him as his +grandchildren, the men standing in the first place. He grunted +rebelliously: 'I can understand an Afghan stealing, because he's built +that way. But I can't understand his crying. That makes it worse.' + +The brandy must have affected Dirkovitch, for he lay back in his chair +and stared at the ceiling. There was nothing special in the ceiling +beyond a shadow as of a huge black coffin. Owing to some peculiarity +in the construction of the mess-room this shadow was always thrown +when the candles were lighted. It never disturbed the digestion of the +White Hussars. They were in fact rather proud of it. + +'Is he going to cry all night?' said the Colonel, 'or are we supposed +to sit up with little Mildred's guest until he feels better?' + +The man in the chair threw up his head and stared at the mess. 'Oh, my +God!' he said, and every soul in the mess rose to his feet. Then the +Lushkar Captain did a deed for which he ought to have been given the +Victoria Cross--distinguished gallantry in a fight against +overwhelming curiosity. He picked up his team with his eyes as the +hostess picks up the ladies at the opportune moment, and pausing only +by the Colonel's chair to say, 'This isn't _our_ affair, you know, +Sir,' led them into the veranda and the gardens. Hira Singh was the +last to go, and he looked at Dirkovitch. But Dirkovitch had departed +into a brandy-paradise of his own. His lips moved without sound and he +was studying the coffin on the ceiling. + +'White--white all over,' said Basset-Holmer, the Adjutant. 'What a +pernicious renegade he must be! I wonder where he came from?' + +The Colonel shook the man gently by the arm, and 'Who are you?' said +he. + +There was no answer. The man stared round the mess-room and smiled in +the Colonel's face. Little Mildred, who was always more of a woman +than a man till 'Boot and saddle' was sounded, repeated the question +in a voice that would have drawn confidences from a geyser. The man +only smiled. Dirkovitch at the far end of the table slid gently from +his chair to the floor. No son of Adam in this present imperfect world +can mix the Hussars' champagne with the Hussars' brandy by five and +eight glasses of each without remembering the pit whence he was digged +and descending thither. The band began to play the tune with which the +White Hussars from the date of their formation have concluded all +their functions. They would sooner be disbanded than abandon that +tune; it is a part of their system. The man straightened himself in +his chair and drummed on the table with his fingers. + + [Illustration: He found the spring.--P. 91.] + +'I don't see why we should entertain lunatics,' said the Colonel. +'Call a guard and send him off to the cells. We'll look into the +business in the morning. Give him a glass of wine first though.' + +Little Mildred filled a sherry-glass with the brandy and thrust it +over to the man. He drank, and the tune rose louder, and he +straightened himself yet more. Then he put out his long-taloned hands +to a piece of plate opposite and fingered it lovingly. There was a +mystery connected with that piece of plate, in the shape of a spring +which converted what was a seven-branched candlestick, three springs +on each side and one in the middle, into a sort of wheel-spoke +candelabrum. He found the spring, pressed it, and laughed weakly. He +rose from his chair and inspected a picture on the wall, then moved on +to another picture, the mess watching him without a word. When he came +to the mantelpiece he shook his head and seemed distressed. A piece of +plate representing a mounted hussar in full uniform caught his eye. He +pointed to it, and then to the mantelpiece with inquiry in his eyes. + +'What is it--oh what is it?' said little Mildred. Then as a mother +might speak to a child, 'That is a horse. Yes, a horse.' + +Very slowly came the answer in a thick, passionless guttural--'Yes, +I--have seen. But--where is _the_ horse?' + +You could have heard the hearts of the mess beating as the men drew +back to give the stranger full room in his wanderings. There was no +question of calling the guard. + +Again he spoke--very slowly, 'Where is _our_ horse?' + +There is but one horse in the White Hussars, and his portrait hangs +outside the door of the mess-room. He is the piebald drum-horse, the +king of the regimental band, that served the regiment for +seven-and-thirty years, and in the end was shot for old age. Half the +mess tore the thing down from its place and thrust it into the man's +hands. He placed it above the mantelpiece, it clattered on the ledge +as his poor hands dropped it, and he staggered towards the bottom of +the table, falling into Mildred's chair. Then all the men spoke to one +another something after this fashion, 'The drum-horse hasn't hung over +the mantelpiece since '67.' 'How does he know?' 'Mildred, go and speak +to him again.' 'Colonel, what are you going to do?' 'Oh, dry up, and +give the poor devil a chance to pull himself together.' 'It isn't +possible anyhow. The man's a lunatic.' + +Little Mildred stood at the Colonel's side talking in his ear. 'Will +you be good enough to take your seats, please, gentlemen!' he said, +and the mess dropped into the chairs. Only Dirkovitch's seat, next to +little Mildred's, was blank, and little Mildred himself had found Hira +Singh's place. The wide-eyed mess-sergeant filled the glasses in dead +silence. Once more the Colonel rose, but his hand shook, and the port +spilled on the table as he looked straight at the man in little +Mildred's chair and said hoarsely, 'Mr. Vice, the Queen.' There was a +little pause, but the man sprung to his feet and answered without +hesitation, 'The Queen, God bless her!' and as he emptied the thin +glass he snapped the shank between his fingers. + +Long and long ago, when the Empress of India was a young woman and +there were no unclean ideals in the land, it was the custom of a few +messes to drink the Queen's toast in broken glass, to the vast +delight of the mess-contractors. The custom is now dead, because there +is nothing to break anything for, except now and again the word of a +Government, and that has been broken already. + +'That settles it,' said the Colonel, with a gasp. 'He's not a +sergeant. What in the world is he?' + +The entire mess echoed the word, and the volley of questions would +have scared any man. It was no wonder that the ragged, filthy invader +could only smile and shake his head. + +From under the table, calm and smiling, rose Dirkovitch, who had been +roused from healthful slumber by feet upon his body. By the side of +the man he rose, and the man shrieked and grovelled. It was a horrible +sight coming so swiftly upon the pride and glory of the toast that had +brought the strayed wits together. + +Dirkovitch made no offer to raise him, but little Mildred heaved him +up in an instant. It is not good that a gentleman who can answer to +the Queen's toast should lie at the feet of a subaltern of Cossacks. + +The hasty action tore the wretch's upper clothing nearly to the waist, +and his body was seamed with dry black scars. There is only one weapon +in the world that cuts in parallel lines, and it is neither the cane +nor the cat. Dirkovitch saw the marks, and the pupils of his eyes +dilated. Also his face changed. He said something that sounded like +_Shto ve takete_, and the man fawning answered, _Chetyre_. + + [Illustration: It is not good that a gentleman who can answer + to the Queen's toast should lie at the feet of a subaltern of + Cossacks.--P. 94.] + +'What's that?' said everybody together. + +'His number. That is number four, you know,' Dirkovitch spoke very +thickly. + +'What has a Queen's officer to do with a qualified number?' said the +Colonel, and an unpleasant growl ran round the table. + +'How can I tell?' said the affable Oriental with a sweet smile. 'He is +a--how you have it?--escape--run-a-way, from over there.' He nodded +towards the darkness of the night. + +'Speak to him if he'll answer you, and speak to him gently,' said +little Mildred, settling the man in a chair. It seemed most improper +to all present that Dirkovitch should sip brandy as he talked in +purring, spitting Russian to the creature who answered so feebly and +with such evident dread. But since Dirkovitch appeared to understand +no one said a word. All breathed heavily, leaning forward, in the long +gaps of the conversation. The next time that they have no engagements +on hand the White Hussars intend to go to St. Petersburg in a body to +learn Russian. + +'He does not know how many years ago,' said Dirkovitch facing the +mess, 'but he says it was very long ago in the war. I think that there +was an accident. He says he was of this glorious and distinguished +regiment in the war.' + +'The rolls! The rolls! Holmer, get the rolls!' said little Mildred, +and the Adjutant dashed off bareheaded to the orderly-room, where the +muster-rolls of the regiment were kept. He returned just in time to +hear Dirkovitch conclude, 'Therefore, my dear friends, I am most sorry +to say there was an accident which would have been reparable if he had +apologised to that our colonel, which he had insulted.' + +Then followed another growl which the Colonel tried to beat down. The +mess was in no mood just then to weigh insults to Russian colonels. + +'He does not remember, but I think that there was an accident, and so +he was not exchanged among the prisoners, but he was sent to another +place--how do you say?--the country. _So_, he says, he came here. He +does not know how he came. Eh? He was at Chepany'--the man caught the +word, nodded, and shivered--'at Zhigansk and Irkutsk. I cannot +understand how he escaped. He says, too, that he was in the forests +for many years, but how many years he has forgotten--that with many +things. It was an accident; done because he did not apologise to that +our colonel. Ah!' + +Instead of echoing Dirkovitch's sigh of regret, it is sad to record +that the White Hussars livelily exhibited un-Christian delight and +other emotions, hardly restrained by their sense of hospitality. +Holmer flung the frayed and yellow regimental rolls on the table, and +the men flung themselves at these. + +'Steady! Fifty-six--fifty-five--fifty-four,' said Holmer. 'Here we +are. "Lieutenant Austin Limmason. _Missing._" That was before +Sebastopol. What an infernal shame! Insulted one of their colonels, +and was quietly shipped off. Thirty years of his life wiped out.' + +'But he never apologised. Said he'd see him damned first,' chorussed +the mess. + +'Poor chap! I suppose he never had the chance afterwards. How did he +come here?' said the Colonel. + +The dingy heap in the chair could give no answer. + +'Do you know who you are?' + +It laughed weakly. + +'Do you know that you are Limmason--Lieutenant Limmason of the White +Hussars?' + +Swiftly as a shot came the answer, in a slightly surprised tone, 'Yes, +I'm Limmason, of course.' The light died out in his eyes, and the man +collapsed, watching every motion of Dirkovitch with terror. A flight +from Siberia may fix a few elementary facts in the mind, but it does +not seem to lead to continuity of thought. The man could not explain +how, like a homing pigeon, he had found his way to his own old mess +again. Of what he had suffered or seen he knew nothing. He cringed +before Dirkovitch as instinctively as he had pressed the spring of the +candlestick, sought the picture of the drum-horse, and answered to the +toast of the Queen. The rest was a blank that the dreaded Russian +tongue could only in part remove. His head bowed on his breast, and he +giggled and cowered alternately. + +The devil that lived in the brandy prompted Dirkovitch at this +extremely inopportune moment to make a speech. He rose, swaying +slightly, gripped the table-edge, while his eyes glowed like opals, +and began:-- + +'Fellow-soldiers glorious--true friends and hospitables. It was an +accident, and deplorable--most deplorable.' Here he smiled sweetly all +round the mess. 'But you will think of this little, little thing. So +little, is it not? The Czar! Posh! I slap my fingers--I snap my +fingers at him. Do I believe in him? No! But in us Slav who has done +nothing, _him_ I believe. Seventy--how much--millions peoples that +have done nothing--not one thing. Posh! Napoleon was an episode.' He +banged a hand on the table. 'Hear you, old peoples, we have done +nothing in the world--out here. All our work is to do; and it shall be +done, old peoples. Get a-way!' He waved his hand imperiously, and +pointed to the man. 'You see him. He is no good to see. He was just +one little--oh, so little--accident, that no one remembered. Now he +is _That_! So will you be, brother soldiers so brave--so will you be. +But you will never come back. You will all go where he is gone, +or'--he pointed to the great coffin-shadow on the ceiling, and +muttering, 'Seventy millions--get a-way, you old peoples,' fell +asleep. + +'Sweet, and to the point,' said little Mildred. 'What's the use of +getting wroth? Let's make this poor devil comfortable.' + +But that was a matter suddenly and swiftly taken from the loving hands +of the White Hussars. The lieutenant had returned only to go away +again three days later, when the wail of the Dead March, and the tramp +of the squadrons, told the wondering Station, who saw no gap in the +mess-table, that an officer of the regiment had resigned his new-found +commission. + +And Dirkovitch, bland, supple, and always genial, went away too, by a +night train. Little Mildred and another man saw him off, for he was +the guest of the mess, and even had he smitten the Colonel with the +open hand, the law of that mess allowed no relaxation of hospitality. + +'Good-bye, Dirkovitch, and a pleasant journey,' said little Mildred. + +'_Au revoir_,' said the Russian. + +'Indeed! But we thought you were going home?' + +'Yes, but I will come again. My dear friends, is that road shut?' He +pointed to where the North Star burned over the Khyber Pass. + +'By Jove! I forgot. Of course. Happy to meet you, old man, any time +you like. Got everything you want? Cheroots, ice, bedding? That's all +right. Well, _au revoir_, Dirkovitch.' + +'Um,' said the other man, as the tail-lights of the train grew small. +'Of--all--the--unmitigated----!' + +Little Mildred answered nothing, but watched the North Star and hummed +a selection from a recent Simla burlesque that had much delighted the +White Hussars. It ran:-- + + I'm sorry for Mister Bluebeard, + I'm sorry to cause him pain; + But a terrible spree there's sure to be + When he comes back again. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD + + What did the colonel's lady think + Nobody never knew. + Somebody asked the sergeant's wife + An' she told 'em, true. + When you git to a man in the case + They're like a row o' pins, + For the colonel's lady an' Judy O'Grady + Are sisters under their skins. + + _Barrack Room Ballad._ + + +All day I had followed at the heels of a pursuing army engaged on one +of the finest battles that ever camp of exercise beheld. Thirty +thousand troops had by the wisdom of the Government of India been +turned loose over a few thousand square miles of country to practise +in peace what they would never attempt in war. Consequently cavalry +charged unshaken infantry at the trot. Infantry captured artillery by +frontal attacks delivered in line of quarter columns, and mounted +infantry skirmished up to the wheels of an armoured train which +carried nothing more deadly than a twenty-five pounder Armstrong, two +Nordenfeldts, and a few score volunteers all cased in three-eighths-inch +boiler-plate. Yet it was a very lifelike camp. Operations did not +cease at sundown; nobody knew the country and nobody spared man or +horse. There was unending cavalry scouting and almost unending forced +work over broken ground. The Army of the South had finally pierced the +centre of the Army of the North, and was pouring through the gap +hot-foot to capture a city of strategic importance. Its front extended +fanwise, the sticks being represented by regiments strung out along +the line of route backwards to the divisional transport columns and +all the lumber that trails behind an army on the move. On its right +the broken left of the Army of the North was flying in mass, chased by +the Southern horse and hammered by the Southern guns till these had +been pushed far beyond the limits of their last support. Then the +flying sat down to rest, while the elated commandant of the pursuing +force telegraphed that he held all in check and observation. + +Unluckily he did not observe that three miles to his right flank a +flying column of Northern horse with a detachment of Gurkhas and +British troops had been pushed round, as fast as the failing light +allowed, to cut across the entire rear of the Southern Army, to break, +as it were, all the ribs of the fan where they converged by striking +at the transport, reserve ammunition, and artillery supplies. Their +instructions were to go in, avoiding the few scouts who might not have +been drawn off by the pursuit, and create sufficient excitement to +impress the Southern Army with the wisdom of guarding their own flank +and rear before they captured cities. It was a pretty manoeuvre, +neatly carried out. + +Speaking for the second division of the Southern Army, our first +intimation of the attack was at twilight, when the artillery were +labouring in deep sand, most of the escort were trying to help them +out, and the main body of the infantry had gone on. A Noah's Ark of +elephants, camels, and the mixed menagerie of an Indian transport +train bubbled and squealed behind the guns, when there appeared from +nowhere in particular British infantry to the extent of three +companies, who sprang to the heads of the gun-horses and brought all +to a standstill amid oaths and cheers. + +'How's that, umpire?' said the Major commanding the attack, and with +one voice the drivers and limber gunners answered 'Hout!' while the +Colonel of Artillery sputtered. + +'All your scouts are charging our main body,' said the Major. 'Your +flanks are unprotected for two miles. I think we've broken the back of +this division. And listen,--there go the Gurkhas!' + +A weak fire broke from the rear-guard more than a mile away, and was +answered by cheerful howlings. The Gurkhas, who should have swung +clear of the second division, had stepped on its tail in the dark, but +drawing off hastened to reach the next line of attack, which lay +almost parallel to us five or six miles away. + +Our column swayed and surged irresolutely,--three batteries, the +divisional ammunition reserve, the baggage, and a section of the +hospital and bearer corps. The commandant ruefully promised to report +himself 'cut up' to the nearest umpire, and commending his cavalry and +all other cavalry to the special care of Eblis, toiled on to resume +touch with the rest of the division. + +'We'll bivouac here to-night,' said the Major; 'I have a notion that +the Gurkhas will get caught. They may want us to re-form on. Stand +easy till the transport gets away.' + +A hand caught my beast's bridle and led him out of the choking dust; a +larger hand deftly canted me out of the saddle; and two of the hugest +hands in the world received me sliding. Pleasant is the lot of the +special correspondent who falls into such hands as those of Privates +Mulvaney, Ortheris, and Learoyd. + +'An' that's all right,' said the Irishman calmly. 'We thought we'd +find you somewheres here by. Is there anything av yours in the +transport? Orth'ris'll fetch ut out.' + +Ortheris did 'fetch ut out,' from under the trunk of an elephant, in +the shape of a servant and an animal, both laden with medical +comforts. The little man's eyes sparkled. + +'If the brutil an' licentious soldiery av these parts gets sight av +the thruck,' said Mulvaney, making practised investigation, 'they'll +loot ev'rything. They're bein' fed on iron-filin's an' dog-biscuit +these days, but glory's no compensation for a belly-ache. Praise be, +we're here to protect you, Sorr. Beer, sausage, bread (soft an' that's +a cur'osity), soup in a tin, whisky by the smell av ut, an' fowls! +Mother av Moses, but ye take the field like a confectioner! 'Tis +scand'lus.' + +''Ere's a orficer,' said Ortheris significantly. 'When the sergent's +done lushin' the privit may clean the pot.' + +I bundled several things into Mulvaney's haver-sack before the Major's +hand fell on my shoulder and he said tenderly, 'Requisitioned for the +Queen's service. Wolseley was quite wrong about special +correspondents: they are the soldier's best friends. Come and take +pot-luck with us to-night.' + +And so it happened amid laughter and shoutings that my well-considered +commissariat melted away to reappear later at the mess-table, which +was a waterproof sheet spread on the ground. The flying column had +taken three days' rations with it, and there be few things nastier +than government rations--especially when government is experimenting +with German toys. Erbswurst, tinned beef of surpassing tinniness, +compressed vegetables, and meat-biscuits may be nourishing, but what +Thomas Atkins needs is bulk in his inside. The Major, assisted by his +brother officers, purchased goats for the camp and so made the +experiment of no effect. Long before the fatigue-party sent to collect +brushwood had returned, the men were settled down by their valises, +kettles and pots had appeared from the surrounding country and were +dangling over fires as the kid and the compressed vegetable bubbled +together; there rose a cheerful clinking of mess-tins; outrageous +demands for 'a little more stuffin' with that there liver-wing'; and +gust on gust of chaff as pointed as a bayonet and as delicate as a +gun-butt. + +'The boys are in a good temper,' said the Major. 'They'll be singing +presently. Well, a night like this is enough to keep them happy.' + +Over our heads burned the wonderful Indian stars, which are not all +pricked in on one plane, but, preserving an orderly perspective, draw +the eye through the velvet darkness of the void up to the barred doors +of heaven itself. The earth was a gray shadow more unreal than the +sky. We could hear her breathing lightly in the pauses between the +howling of the jackals, the movement of the wind in the tamarisks, and +the fitful mutter of musketry-fire leagues away to the left. A native +woman from some unseen hut began to sing, the mail-train thundered +past on its way to Delhi, and a roosting crow cawed drowsily. Then +there was a belt-loosening silence about the fires, and the even +breathing of the crowded earth took up the story. + +The men, full fed, turned to tobacco and song,--their officers with +them. The subaltern is happy who can win the approval of the musical +critics in his regiment, and is honoured among the more intricate +step-dancers. By him, as by him who plays cricket cleverly, Thomas +Atkins will stand in time of need, when he will let a better officer +go on alone. The ruined tombs of forgotten Mussulman saints heard the +ballad of _Agra Town_, _The Buffalo Battery_, _Marching to Kabul_, +_The long, long Indian Day_, _The Place where the Punkah-coolie died_, +and that crashing chorus which announces, + + Youth's daring spirit, manhood's fire, + Firm hand and eagle eye, + Must he acquire, who would aspire + To see the gray boar die. + +To-day, of all those jovial thieves who appropriated my commissariat +and lay and laughed round that waterproof sheet, not one remains. They +went to camps that were not of exercise and battles without empires. +Burmah, the Soudan, and the frontier,--fever and fight,--took them in +their time. + +I drifted across to the men's fires in search of Mulvaney, whom I +found strategically greasing his feet by the blaze. There is nothing +particularly lovely in the sight of a private thus engaged after a +long day's march, but when you reflect on the exact proportion of the +'might, majesty, dominion, and power' of the British Empire which +stands on those feet you take an interest in the proceedings. + +'There's a blister, bad luck to ut, on the heel,' said Mulvaney. 'I +can't touch ut. Prick ut out, little man.' + +Ortheris took out his housewife, eased the trouble with a needle, +stabbed Mulvaney in the calf with the same weapon, and was swiftly +kicked into the fire. + +'I've bruk the best av my toes over you, ye grinnin' child av +disruption,' said Mulvaney, sitting cross-legged and nursing his feet; +then seeing me, 'Oh, ut's you, Sorr! Be welkim, an' take that +maraudin' scutt's place. Jock, hold him down on the cindhers for a +bit.' + +But Ortheris escaped and went elsewhere, as I took possession of the +hollow he had scraped for himself and lined with his greatcoat. +Learoyd on the other side of the fire grinned affably and in a minute +fell fast asleep. + +'There's the height av politeness for you,' said Mulvaney, lighting +his pipe with a flaming branch. 'But Jock's eaten half a box av your +sardines at wan gulp, an' I think the tin too. What's the best wid +you, Sorr, an' how did you happen to be on the losin' side this day +whin we captured you?' + +'The Army of the South is winning all along the line,' I said. + +'Then that line's the hangman's rope, savin' your presence. You'll +learn to-morrow how we rethreated to dhraw thim on before we made thim +trouble, an' that's what a woman does. By the same tokin, we'll be +attacked before the dawnin' an' ut would be betther not to slip your +boots. How do I know that? By the light av pure reason. Here are three +companies av us ever so far inside av the enemy's flank an' a crowd av +roarin', tarin', squealin' cavalry gone on just to turn out the whole +hornet's nest av them. Av course the enemy will pursue, by brigades +like as not, an' thin we'll have to run for ut. Mark my words. I am av +the opinion av Polonius whin he said, "Don't fight wid ivry scutt for +the pure joy av fightin', but if you do, knock the nose av him first +and frequint." We ought to ha' gone on an' helped the Gurkhas.' + +'But what do you know about Polonius?' I demanded. This was a new side +of Mulvaney's character. + +'All that Shakespeare iver wrote an' a dale more that the gallery +shouted,' said the man of war, carefully lacing his boots. 'Did I not +tell you av Silver's Theatre in Dublin, whin I was younger than I am +now an' a patron av the drama? Ould Silver wud never pay actor-man or +woman their just dues, an' by consequince his comp'nies was +collapsible at the last minut. Thin the bhoys wud clamour to take a +part, an' oft as not ould Silver made them pay for the fun. Faith, +I've seen Hamlut played wid a new black eye an' the queen as full as a +cornucopia. I remimber wanst Hogin that 'listed in the Black Tyrone +an' was shot in South Africa, he sejuced ould Silver into givin' him +Hamlut's part instid av me that had a fine fancy for rhetoric in those +days. Av course I wint into the gallery an' began to fill the pit wid +other peoples' hats, an' I passed the time av day to Hogin walkin' +through Denmark like a hamstrung mule wid a pall on his back. +"Hamlut," sez I, "there's a hole in your heel. Pull up your +shtockin's, Hamlut," sez I. "Hamlut, Hamlut, for the love av decincy +dhrop that skull an' pull up your shtockin's." The whole house begun +to tell him that. He stopped his soliloquishms mid-between. "My +shtockin's may be comin' down or they may not," sez he, screwin' his +eye into the gallery, for well he knew who I was. "But afther this +performince is over me an' the Ghost'll trample the tripes out av you, +Terence, wid your-ass's bray!" An' that's how I come to know about +Hamlut. Eyah! Those days, those days! Did you iver have onendin' +devilmint an' nothin' to pay for it in your life, Sorr?' + +'Never, without having to pay,' I said. + +'That's thrue! 'Tis mane whin you considher on ut; but ut's the same +wid horse or fut. A headache if you dhrink, an' a belly-ache if you +eat too much, an' a heart-ache to kape all down. Faith, the beast only +gets the colic, an' he's the lucky man.' + +He dropped his head and stared into the fire, fingering his moustache +the while. From the far side of the bivouac the voice of Corbet-Nolan, +senior subaltern of B company, uplifted itself in an ancient and much +appreciated song of sentiment, the men moaning melodiously behind him. + + The north wind blew coldly, she drooped from that hour, + My own little Kathleen, my sweet little Kathleen, + Kathleen, my Kathleen, Kathleen O'Moore! + +With forty-five O's in the last word: even at that distance you might +have cut the soft South Irish accent with a shovel. + +'For all we take we must pay, but the price is cruel high,' murmured +Mulvaney when the chorus had ceased. + +'What's the trouble?' I said gently, for I knew that he was a man of +an inextinguishable sorrow. + +'Hear now,' said he. 'Ye know what I am now. _I_ know what I mint to +be at the beginnin' av my service. I've tould you time an' again, an' +what I have not Dinah Shadd has. An' what am I? Oh, Mary Mother av +Hiven, an ould dhrunken, untrustable baste av a privit that has seen +the reg'ment change out from colonel to drummer-boy, not wanst or +twice, but scores av times! Ay, scores! An' me not so near gettin' +promotion as in the first! An' me livin' on an' kapin' clear av clink, +not by my own good conduck, but the kindness av some orf'cer-bhoy +young enough to be son to me! Do I not know ut? Can I not tell whin +I'm passed over at p'rade, tho' I'm rockin' full av liquor an' ready +to fall all in wan piece, such as even a suckin' child might see, +bekaze, "Oh, 'tis only ould Mulvaney!" An' whin I'm let off in +ord'ly-room through some thrick of the tongue an' a ready answer an' +the ould man's mercy, is ut smilin' I feel whin I fall away an' go +back to Dinah Shadd, thryin' to carry ut all off as a joke? Not I! +'Tis hell to me, dumb hell through ut all; an' next time whin the fit +comes I will be as bad again. Good cause the reg'ment has to know me +for the best soldier in ut. Better cause have I to know mesilf for the +worst man. I'm only fit to tache the new drafts what I'll niver learn +myself; an' I am sure, as tho' I heard ut, that the minut wan av these +pink-eyed recruities gets away from my "Mind ye now," an' "Listen to +this, Jim, bhoy,"--sure I am that the sergint houlds me up to him for +a warnin'. So I tache, as they say at musketry-instruction, by direct +and ricochet fire. Lord be good to me, for I have stud some throuble!' + +'Lie down and go to sleep,' said I, not being able to comfort or +advise. 'You're the best man in the regiment, and, next to Ortheris, +the biggest fool. Lie down and wait till we're attacked. What force +will they turn out? Guns, think you?' + +'Try that wid your lorrds an' ladies, twistin' an' turnin' the talk, +tho' you mint ut well. Ye cud say nothin' to help me, an' yet ye niver +knew what cause I had to be what I am.' + +'Begin at the beginning and go on to the end,' I said royally. 'But +rake up the fire a bit first.' + +I passed Ortheris's bayonet for a poker. + +'That shows how little we know what we do,' said Mulvaney, putting it +aside. 'Fire takes all the heart out av the steel, an' the next time, +maybe, that our little man is fighting for his life his bradawl'll +break, an' so you'll ha' killed him, manin' no more than to kape +yourself warm. 'Tis a recruity's thrick that. Pass the clanin'-rod, +Sorr.' + +I snuggled down abashed; and after an interval the voice of Mulvaney +began. + +'Did I iver tell you how Dinah Shadd came to be wife av mine?' + +I dissembled a burning anxiety that I had felt for some months--ever +since Dinah Shadd, the strong, the patient, and the infinitely tender, +had of her own good love and free will washed a shirt for me, moving +in a barren land where washing was not. + +'I can't remember,' I said casually. 'Was it before or after you made +love to Annie Bragin, and got no satisfaction?' + +The story of Annie Bragin is written in another place. It is one of +the many less respectable episodes in Mulvaney's chequered career. + +'Before--before--long before, was that business av Annie Bragin an' +the corp'ril's ghost. Niver woman was the worse for me whin I had +married Dinah. There's a time for all things, an' I know how to kape +all things in place--barrin' the dhrink, that kapes me in my place wid +no hope av comin' to be aught else.' + +'Begin at the beginning,' I insisted. 'Mrs. Mulvaney told me that you +married her when you were quartered in Krab Bokhar barracks.' + +'An' the same is a cess-pit,' said Mulvaney piously. 'She spoke thrue, +did Dinah. 'Twas this way. Talkin' av that, have ye iver fallen in +love, Sorr?' + +I preserved the silence of the damned. Mulvaney continued:-- + +'Thin I will assume that ye have not. _I_ did. In the days av my +youth, as I have more than wanst tould you, I was a man that filled +the eye an' delighted the sowl av women. Niver man was hated as I have +bin. Niver man was loved as I--no, not within half a day's march av +ut! For the first five years av my service, whin I was what I wud give +my sowl to be now, I tuk whatever was within my reach an' digested +ut--an' that's more than most men can say. Dhrink I tuk, an' ut did me +no harm. By the Hollow av Hiven, I cud play wid four women at wanst, +an' kape them from findin' out anythin' about the other three, an' +smile like a full-blown marigold through ut all. Dick Coulhan, av the +battery we'll have down on us to-night, could drive his team no better +than I mine, an' I hild the worser cattle! An' so I lived, an' so I +was happy till afther that business wid Annie Bragin--she that turned +me off as cool as a meat-safe, an' taught me where I stud in the mind +av an honest woman. 'Twas no sweet dose to swallow. + +'Afther that I sickened awhile an' tuk thought to my reg'mental work; +conceiting mesilf I wud study an' be a sargint, an' a major-gineral +twinty minutes afther that. But on top av my ambitiousness there was +an empty place in my sowl, an' me own opinion av mesilf cud not fill +ut. Sez I to mesilf, "Terence, you're a great man an' the best set-up +in the reg'mint. Go on an' get promotion." Sez mesilf to me, "What +for?" Sez I to mesilf, "For the glory av ut!" Sez mesilf to me, "Will +that fill these two strong arrums av yours, Terence?" "Go to the +devil," sez I to mesilf. "Go to the married lines," sez mesilf to me. +"'Tis the same thing," sez I to mesilf. "Av you're the same man, ut +is," said mesilf to me; an' wid that I considhered on ut a long while. +Did you iver feel that way, Sorr?' + +I snored gently, knowing that if Mulvaney were uninterrupted he would +go on. The clamour from the bivouac fires beat up to the stars, as the +rival singers of the companies were pitted against each other. + +'So I felt that way an' a bad time ut was. Wanst, bein' a fool, I wint +into the married lines more for the sake av spakin' to our ould +colour-sergint Shadd than for any thruck wid women-folk. I was a +corp'ril then--rejuced afterwards, but a corp'ril then. I've got a +photograft av mesilf to prove ut. "You'll take a cup av tay wid us?" +sez Shadd. "I will that," I sez, "tho' tay is not my divarsion." + +'"'Twud be better for you if ut were," sez ould Mother Shadd, an' she +had ought to know, for Shadd, in the ind av his service, dhrank +bung-full each night. + + [Illustration: 'Thin whin the kettle was to be filled, Dinah + came in--my Dinah.'--P. 117.] + +'Wid that I tuk off my gloves--there was pipe-clay in thim, so that +they stud alone--an' pulled up my chair, lookin' round at the china +ornaments, an' bits av things in the Shadds' quarters. They were +things that belonged to a man, an' no camp-kit, here to-day and +dishipated next. "You're comfortable in this place, Sergint," sez I. +"'Tis the wife that did ut, boy," sez he, pointin' the stem av his +pipe to ould Mother Shadd, an' she smacked the top av his bald head +apon the compliment. "That manes you want money," sez she. + +'An' thin--an' thin whin the kettle was to be filled, Dinah came +in--my Dinah--her sleeves rowled up to the elbow an' her hair in a +winkin' glory over her forehead, the big blue eyes beneath twinklin' +like stars on a frosty night, an' the tread av her two feet lighter +than waste-paper from the Colonel's basket in ord'ly-room whin ut's +emptied. Bein' but a shlip av a girl she went pink at seein' me, an' I +twisted me moustache an' looked at a picture forninst the wall. Niver +show a woman that ye care the snap av a finger for her, an' begad +she'll come bleatin' to your boot-heels!' + +'I suppose that's why you followed Annie Bragin till everybody in the +married quarters laughed at you,' said I, remembering that unhallowed +wooing and casting off the disguise of drowsiness. + +'I'm layin' down the gin'ral theory av the attack,' said Mulvaney, +driving his boot into the dying fire. 'If you read the _Soldier's +Pocket-book_, which niver any soldier reads, you'll see that there are +exceptions. Whin Dinah was out av the door (an' 'twas as tho' the +sunlight had shut too)--"Mother av Hiven, Sergint," sez I, "but is +that your daughter?"--"I've believed that way these eighteen years," +sez ould Shadd, his eyes twinklin'; "but Mrs. Shadd has her own +opinion, like iv'ry woman."--"'Tis wid yours this time, for a +mericle," sez Mother Shadd. "Thin why in the name av fortune did I +niver see her before?" sez I. "Bekaze you've been thrapesin' round wid +the married women these three years past. She was a bit av a child +till last year, an' she shot up wid the spring," sez ould Mother +Shadd. "I'll thrapese no more," sez I. "D'you mane that?" sez ould +Mother Shadd, lookin' at me side-ways like a hen looks at a hawk whin +the chickens are runnin' free. "Try me, an' tell," sez I. Wid that I +pulled on my gloves, dhrank off the tay, an' went out av the house as +stiff as at gin'ral p'rade, for well I knew that Dinah Shadd's eyes +were in the small av my back out av the scullery window. Faith! that +was the only time I mourned I was not a cav'l'ry-man for the pride av +the spurs to jingle. + +'I wint out to think, an' I did a powerful lot av thinkin', but ut all +came round to that shlip av a girl in the dotted blue dhress, wid the +blue eyes an' the sparkil in them. Thin I kept off canteen, an' I kept +to the married quarthers, or near by, on the chanst av meetin' Dinah. +Did I meet her? Oh, my time past, did I not; wid a lump in my throat +as big as my valise an' my heart goin' like a farrier's forge on a +Saturday morning? 'Twas "Good day to ye, Miss Dinah," an' "Good day +t'you, Corp'ril," for a week or two, and divil a bit further could I +get bekaze av the respect I had to that girl that I cud ha' broken +betune finger an' thumb.' + +Here I giggled as I recalled the gigantic figure of Dinah Shadd when +she handed me my shirt. + +'Ye may laugh,' grunted Mulvaney. 'But I'm speakin' the trut', an' +'tis you that are in fault. Dinah was a girl that wud ha' taken the +imperiousness out av the Duchess av Clonmel in those days. Flower +hand, foot av shod air, an' the eyes av the livin' mornin' she had +that is my wife to-day--ould Dinah, and niver aught else than Dinah +Shadd to me. + +''Twas after three weeks standin' off an' on, an' niver makin' headway +excipt through the eyes, that a little drummer-boy grinned in me face +whin I had admonished him wid the buckle av my belt for riotin' all +over the place. "An' I'm not the only wan that doesn't kape to +barricks," sez he. I tuk him by the scruff av his neck,--my heart was +hung on a hair-thrigger those days, you will onderstand,--an' "Out wid +ut," sez I, "or I'll lave no bone av you unbreakable."--"Speak to +Dempsey," sez he howlin'. "Dempsey which?" sez I, "ye unwashed limb av +Satan."--"Av the Bob-tailed Dhragoons," sez he. "He's seen her home +from her aunt's house in the civil lines four times this +fortnight."--"Child!" sez I, dhroppin' him, "you're tongue's stronger +than your body. Go to your quarters. I'm sorry I dhressed you down." + +'At that I went four ways to wanst huntin' Dempsey. I was mad to think +that wid all my airs among women I shud ha' been chated by a +basin-faced fool av a cav'l'ry-man not fit to trust on a trunk. +Presintly I found him in our lines--the Bobtails was quartered next +us--an' a tallowy, topheavy son av a she-mule he was wid his big brass +spurs an' his plastrons on his epigastrons an' all. But he niver +flinched a hair. + +'"A word wid you, Dempsey," sez I. "You've walked wid Dinah Shadd four +times this fortnight gone." + +'"What's that to you?" sez he. "I'll walk forty times more, an' forty +on top av that, ye shovel-futted clod-breakin' infantry +lance-corp'ril." + +'Before I cud gyard he had his gloved fist home on my cheek an' down I +went full-sprawl. "Will that content you?" sez he, blowin' on his +knuckles for all the world like a Scots Greys orf'cer. "Content!" sez +I. "For your own sake, man, take off your spurs, peel your jackut, an' +onglove. 'Tis the beginnin' av the overture; stand up!" + + [Illustration: '"My collar-bone's bruk," sez he.'--P. 121.] + +'He stud all he know, but he niver peeled his jacket, an' his +shoulders had no fair play. I was fightin' for Dinah Shadd an' that +cut on my cheek. What hope had he forninst me? "Stand up," sez I, time +an' again whin he was beginnin' to quarter the ground an' gyard high +an' go large. "This isn't ridin'-school," I sez. "O man, stand up an' +let me get in at ye." But whin I saw he wud be runnin' about, I grup +his shtock in my left an' his waist-belt in my right an' swung him +clear to my right front, head undher, he hammerin' my nose till the +wind was knocked out av him on the bare ground. "Stand up," sez I, "or +I'll kick your head into your chest!" and I wud ha' done ut too, so +ragin' mad I was. + +'"My collar-bone's bruk," sez he. "Help me back to lines. I'll walk +wid her no more." So I helped him back.' + +'And was his collar-bone broken?' I asked, for I fancied that only +Learoyd could neatly accomplish that terrible throw. + +'He pitched on his left shoulder-point. Ut was. Next day the news was +in both barricks, an' whin I met Dinah Shadd wid a cheek on me like +all the reg'mintal tailor's samples, there was no "Good mornin', +Corp'ril," or aught else. "An' what have I done, Miss Shadd," sez I, +very bould, plantin' mesilf forninst her, "that ye should not pass the +time of day?" + +'"Ye've half-killed rough-rider Dempsey," sez she, her dear blue eyes +fillin' up. + +'"Maybe," sez I. "Was he a friend av yours that saw ye home four times +in the fortnight?" + +'"Yes," sez she, but her mouth was down at the corners. "An'--an' +what's that to you?" she sez. + +'"Ask Dempsey," sez I, purtendin' to go away. + +'"Did you fight for me then, ye silly man?" she sez, tho' she knew ut +all along. + +'"Who else?" sez I, an' I tuk wan pace to the front. + +'"I wasn't worth ut," sez she, fingerin' in her apron. + +'"That's for me to say," sez I. "Shall I say ut?" + +'"Yes," sez she in a saint's whisper, an' at that I explained mesilf; +and she tould me what ivry man that is a man, an' many that is a +woman, hears wanst in his life. + +'"But what made ye cry at startin', Dinah, darlin'?" sez I. + +'"Your--your bloody cheek," sez she, duckin' her little head down on +my sash (I was on duty for the day) an' whimperin' like a sorrowful +angil. + +'Now a man cud take that two ways. I tuk ut as pleased me best an' my +first kiss wid ut. Mother av Innocence! but I kissed her on the tip av +the nose an' undher the eye; an' a girl that lets a kiss come +tumbleways like that has never been kissed before. Take note av that, +Sorr. Thin we wint hand in hand to ould Mother Shadd like two little +childher, an' she said 'twas no bad thing, an' ould Shadd nodded +behind his pipe, an' Dinah ran away to her own room. That day I throd +on rollin' clouds. All earth was too small to hould me. Begad, I cud +ha' hiked the sun out av the sky for a live coal to my pipe, so +magnificent I was. But I tuk recruities at squad-drill instid, an' +began wid general battalion advance whin I shud ha' been +balance-steppin' them. Eyah! that day! that day!' + +A very long pause. 'Well?' said I. + +''Twas all wrong,' said Mulvaney, with an enormous sigh. 'An' I know +that ev'ry bit av ut was my own foolishness. That night I tuk maybe +the half av three pints--not enough to turn the hair of a man in his +natural senses. But I was more than half drunk wid pure joy, an' that +canteen beer was so much whisky to me. I can't tell how it came about, +but _bekaze_ I had no thought for any wan except Dinah, _bekaze_ I +hadn't slipped her little white arms from my neck five minuts, +_bekaze_ the breath of her kiss was not gone from my mouth, I must go +through the married lines on my way to quarters an' I must stay +talkin' to a red-headed Mullingar heifer av a girl, Judy Sheehy, that +was daughter to Mother Sheehy, the wife of Nick Sheehy, the +canteen-sergint--the Black Curse av Shielygh be on the whole brood +that are above groun' this day! + +'"An' what are ye houldin' your head that high for, Corp'ril?" sez +Judy. "Come in an' thry a cup av tay," she sez, standin' in the +doorway. Bein' an ontrustable fool, an' thinkin' av anything but tay, +I wint. + +'"Mother's at canteen," sez Judy, smoothin' the hair av hers that was +like red snakes, an' lookin' at me corner-ways out av her green cats' +eyes. "Ye will not mind, Corp'ril?" + +'"I can endure," sez I; ould Mother Sheehy bein' no divarsion av mine, +nor her daughter too. Judy fetched the tea things an' put thim on the +table, leanin' over me very close to get thim square. I dhrew back, +thinkin' av Dinah. + +'"Is ut afraid you are av a girl alone?" sez Judy. + +'"No," sez I. "Why should I be?" + +'"That rests wid the girl," sez Judy, dhrawin' her chair next to mine. + +'"Thin there let ut rest," sez I; an' thinkin' I'd been a trifle +onpolite, I sez, "The tay's not quite sweet enough for my taste. Put +your little finger in the cup, Judy. 'Twill make ut necthar." + +'"What's necthar?" sez she. + +'"Somethin' very sweet," sez I; an' for the sinful life av me I cud +not help lookin' at her out av the corner av my eye, as I was used to +look at a woman. + +'"Go on wid ye, Cor'pril," sez she. "You're a flirrt." + +'"On me sowl I'm not," sez I. + +'"Then you're a cruel handsome man, an' that's worse," sez she, +heavin' big sighs an' lookin' cross-ways. + +'"You know your own mind," sez I. + +'"Twud be better for me if I did not," she sez. + +'"There's a dale to be said on both sides av that," sez I, unthinkin'. + +'"Say your own part av ut, then, Terence, darlin'," sez she; "for +begad I'm thinkin' I've said too much or too little for an honest +girl," an' wid that she put her arms round my neck an' kissed me. + +'"There's no more to be said afther that," sez I, kissin' her back +again--oh the mane scutt that I was, my head ringin' wid Dinah Shadd! +How does ut come about, Sorr, that when a man has put the comether on +wan woman, he's sure bound to put it on another? 'Tis the same thing +at musketry. Wan day ivry shot goes wide or into the bank, an' the +next, lay high lay low, sight or snap, ye can't get off the bull's-eye +for ten shots runnin'.' + +'That only happens to a man who has had a good deal of experience. He +does it without thinking,' I replied. + +'Thankin' you for the complimint, Sorr, ut may be so. But I'm doubtful +whether you mint ut for a complimint. Hear now; I sat there wid Judy +on my knee tellin' me all manner av nonsinse an' only sayin' "yes" an' +"no," when I'd much better ha' kept tongue betune teeth. An' that was +not an hour afther I had left Dinah! What I was thinkin' av I cannot +say. Presintly, quiet as a cat, ould Mother Sheehy came in +velvet-dhrunk. She had her daughter's red hair, but 'twas bald in +patches, an' I could see in her wicked ould face, clear as lightnin', +what Judy wud be twenty years to come. I was for jumpin' up, but Judy +niver moved. + +'"Terence has promust, mother," sez she, an' the could sweat bruk out +all over me. Ould Mother Sheehy sat down of a heap an' began playin' +wid the cups. "Thin you're a well-matched pair," she sez very thick. +"For he's the biggest rogue that iver spoiled the queen's +shoe-leather, an'----" + +'"I'm off, Judy," sez I. "Ye should not talk nonsinse to your mother. +Get her to bed, girl." + +'"Nonsinse!" sez the ould woman, prickin' up her ears like a cat an' +grippin' the table-edge. "'Twill be the most nonsinsical nonsinse for +you, ye grinnin' badger, if nonsinse 'tis. Git clear, you. I'm goin' +to bed." + +'I ran out into the dhark, my head in a stew an' my heart sick, but I +had sinse enough to see that I'd brought ut all on mysilf. "It's this +to pass the time av day to a panjandhrum av hell-cats," sez I. "What +I've said, an' what I've not said do not matther. Judy an' her dam +will hould me for a promust man, an' Dinah will give me the go, an' I +desarve ut. I will go an' get dhrunk," sez I, "an' forget about ut, +for 'tis plain I'm not a marrin' man." + +'On my way to canteen I ran against Lascelles, colour-sergeant that +was av E comp'ny, a hard, hard man, wid a torment av a wife. "You've +the head av a drowned man on your shoulders," sez he; "an' you're +goin' where you'll get a worse wan. Come back," sez he. "Let me go," +sez I. "I've thrown my luck over the wall wid my own hand!"--"Then +that's not the way to get ut back again," sez he. "Have out wid your +throuble, you fool-bhoy." An' I tould him how the matther was. + +'He sucked in his lower lip. "You've been thrapped," sez he. "Ju +Sheehy wud be the betther for a man's name to hers as soon as can. An' +ye thought ye'd put the comether on her,--that's the natural vanity of +the baste. Terence, you're a big born fool, but you're not bad enough +to marry into that comp'ny. If you said anythin', an' for all your +protestations I'm sure ye did--or did not, which is worse,--eat ut +all--lie like the father of all lies, but come out av ut free av Judy. +Do I not know what ut is to marry a woman that was the very spit an' +image av Judy whin she was young? I'm gettin' old an' I've larnt +patience, but you, Terence, you'd raise hand on Judy an' kill her in a +year. Never mind if Dinah gives you the go, you've desarved ut; never +mind if the whole reg'mint laughs you all day. Get shut av Judy an' +her mother. They can't dhrag you to church, but if they do, they'll +dhrag you to hell. Go back to your quarters and lie down," sez he. +Thin over his shoulder, "You _must_ ha' done with thim." + +'Next day I wint to see Dinah, but there was no tucker in me as I +walked. I knew the throuble wud come soon enough widout any handlin' +av mine, an' I dreaded ut sore. + +'I heard Judy callin' me, but I hild straight on to the Shadds' +quarthers, an' Dinah wud ha' kissed me but I put her back. + +'"Whin all's said, darlin'," sez I, "you can give ut me if ye will, +tho' I misdoubt 'twill be so easy to come by then." + +'I had scarce begun to put the explanation into shape before Judy an' +her mother came to the door. I think there was a veranda, but I'm +forgettin'. + +'"Will ye not step in?" sez Dinah, pretty and polite, though the +Shadds had no dealin's with the Sheehys. Old Mother Shadd looked up +quick, an' she was the fust to see the throuble; for Dinah was her +daughter. + +'"I'm pressed for time to-day," sez Judy as bould as brass; "an' I've +only come for Terence,--my promust man. 'Tis strange to find him here +the day afther the day." + +'Dinah looked at me as though I had hit her, an' I answered straight. + +'"There was some nonsinse last night at the Sheehys' quarthers, an' +Judy's carryin' on the joke, darlin'," sez I. + +'"At the Sheehys' quarthers?" sez Dinah very slow, an' Judy cut in +wid: "He was there from nine till ten, Dinah Shadd, an' the betther +half av that time I was sittin' on his knee, Dinah Shadd. Ye may look +an' ye may look an' ye may look me up an' down, but ye won't look away +that Terence is my promust man. Terence, darlin', 'tis time for us to +be comin' home." + +'Dinah Shadd niver said word to Judy. "Ye left me at half-past eight," +she sez to me, "an' I niver thought that ye'd leave me for +Judy,--promises or no promises. Go back wid her, you that have to be +fetched by a girl! I'm done with you," sez she, and she ran into her +own room, her mother followin'. So I was alone wid those two women +and at liberty to spake my sentiments. + +'"Judy Sheehy," sez I, "if you made a fool av me betune the lights you +shall not do ut in the day. I niver promised you words or lines." + +'"You lie," sez ould Mother Sheehy, "an' may ut choke you where you +stand!" She was far gone in dhrink. + +'"An' tho' ut choked me where I stud I'd not change," sez I. "Go home, +Judy. I take shame for a decent girl like you dhraggin' your mother +out bareheaded on this errand. Hear now, and have ut for an answer. I +gave my word to Dinah Shadd yesterday, an', more blame to me, I was +wid you last night talkin' nonsinse but nothin' more. You've chosen to +thry to hould me on ut. I will not be held thereby for anythin' in the +world. Is that enough?" + +'Judy wint pink all over. "An' I wish you joy av the perjury," sez +she, duckin' a curtsey. "You've lost a woman that would ha' wore her +hand to the bone for your pleasure; an' 'deed, Terence, ye were not +thrapped...." Lascelles must ha' spoken plain to her. "I am such as +Dinah is--'deed I am! Ye've lost a fool av a girl that'll niver look +at you again, and ye've lost what ye niver had--your common honesty. +If you manage your men as you manage your love makin', small wondher +they call you the worst corp'ril in the comp'ny. Come away, mother," +sez she. + +'But divil a fut would the ould woman budge! "D'you hould by that?" +sez she, peerin' up under her thick gray eyebrows. + +'"Ay, an' wud," sez I, "tho' Dinah gave me the go twinty times. I'll +have no thruck with you or yours," sez I. "Take your child away, ye +shameless woman." + +'"An' am I shameless?" sez she, bringin' her hands up above her head. +"Thin what are you, ye lyin', schamin', weak-kneed, dhirty-souled son +av a sutler? Am _I_ shameless? Who put the open shame on me an' my +child that we shud go beggin' through the lines in the broad daylight +for the broken word of a man? Double portion of my shame be on you, +Terence Mulvaney, that think yourself so strong! By Mary and the +saints, by blood and water an' by ivry sorrow that came into the world +since the beginnin', the black blight fall on you and yours, so that +you may niver be free from pain for another when ut's not your own! +May your heart bleed in your breast drop by drop wid all your friends +laughin' at the bleedin'! Strong you think yourself? May your strength +be a curse to you to dhrive you into the divil's hands against your +own will! Clear-eyed you are? May your eyes see clear evry step av the +dark path you take till the hot cindhers av hell put thim out! May +the ragin' dry thirst in my own ould bones go to you that you shall +niver pass bottle full nor glass empty. God preserve the light av your +onderstandin' to you, my jewel av a bhoy, that ye may niver forget +what you mint to be an' do, whin you're wallowin' in the muck! May ye +see the betther and follow the worse as long as there's breath in your +body; an' may ye die quick in a strange land, watchin' your death +before ut takes you, an' onable to stir hand or foot!" + +'I heard a scufflin' in the room behind, and thin Dinah Shadd's hand +dhropped into mine like a rose-leaf into a muddy road. + +'"The half av that I'll take," sez she, "an' more too if I can. Go +home, ye silly talkin' woman,--go home an' confess." + +'"Come away! Come away!" sez Judy, pullin' her mother by the shawl. +"'Twas none av Terence's fault. For the love av Mary stop the +talkin'!" + +'"An' you!" said ould Mother Sheehy, spinnin' round forninst Dinah. +"Will ye take the half av that man's load? Stand off from him, Dinah +Shadd, before he takes you down too--you that look to be a +quarther-master-sergeant's wife in five years. You look too high, +child. You shall _wash_ for the quarther-master-sergeant, whin he +plases to give you the job out av charity; but a privit's wife you +shall be to the end, an' evry sorrow of a privit's wife you shall +know and niver a joy but wan, that shall go from you like the running +tide from a rock. The pain av bearin' you shall know but niver the +pleasure av giving the breast; an' you shall put away a man-child into +the common ground wid niver a priest to say a prayer over him, an' on +that man-child ye shall think ivry day av your life. Think long, Dinah +Shadd, for you'll niver have another tho' you pray till your knees are +bleedin'. The mothers av childer shall mock you behind your back when +you're wringing over the wash-tub. You shall know what ut is to help a +dhrunken husband home an' see him go to the gyard-room. Will that +plase you, Dinah Shadd, that won't be seen talkin' to my daughter? You +shall talk to worse than Judy before all's over. The sergints' wives +shall look down on you contemptuous, daughter av a sergint, an' you +shall cover ut all up wid a smiling face whin your heart's burstin'. +Stand off av him, Dinah Shadd, for I've put the Black Curse of +Shielygh upon him an' his own mouth shall make ut good." + + [Illustration: '"The half av that I'll take," sez she.'--P. + 132.] + +'She pitched forward on her head an' began foamin' at the mouth. Dinah +Shadd ran out wid water, an' Judy dhragged the ould woman into the +veranda till she sat up. + +'"I'm old an' forlore," she sez, thremblin' an' cryin', "and 'tis like +I say a dale more than I mane." + +'"When you're able to walk--go," says ould Mother Shadd. "This house +has no place for the likes av you that have cursed my daughter." + +'"Eyah!" said the ould woman. "Hard words break no bones, an' Dinah +Shadd'll kape the love av her husband till my bones are green corn. +Judy, darlin', I misremember what I came here for. Can you lend us the +bottom av a taycup av tay, Mrs. Shadd?" + +'But Judy dhragged her off cryin' as tho' her heart wud break. An' +Dinah Shadd an' I, in ten minutes we had forgot ut all.' + +'Then why do you remember it now?' said I. + +'Is ut like I'd forget? Ivry word that wicked ould woman spoke fell +thrue in my life aftherwards, an' I cud ha' stud ut all--stud ut +all,--excipt when my little Shadd was born. That was on the line av +march three months afther the regiment was taken with cholera. We were +betune Umballa an' Kalka thin, an' I was on picket. Whin I came off +duty the women showed me the child, an' ut turned on uts side an' died +as I looked. We buried him by the road, an' Father Victor was a day's +march behind wid the heavy baggage, so the comp'ny captain read a +prayer. An' since then I've been a childless man, an' all else that +ould Mother Sheehy put upon me an' Dinah Shadd. What do you think, +Sorr?' + +I thought a good deal, but it seemed better then to reach out for +Mulvaney's hand. The demonstration nearly cost me the use of three +fingers. Whatever he knows of his weaknesses, Mulvaney is entirely +ignorant of his strength. + +'But what do you think?' he repeated, as I was straightening out the +crushed fingers. + +My reply was drowned in yells and outcries from the next fire, where +ten men were shouting for 'Orth'ris,' 'Privit Orth'ris,' 'Mistah +Or--ther--ris!' 'Deah boy,' 'Cap'n Orth'ris,' 'Field-Marshal +Orth'ris,' 'Stanley, you pen'north o' pop, come 'ere to your own +comp'ny!' And the Cockney, who had been delighting another audience +with recondite and Rabelaisian yarns, was shot down among his admirers +by the major force. + +'You've crumpled my dress-shirt 'orrid,' said he, 'an' I shan't sing +no more to this 'ere bloomin' drawin'-room.' + +Learoyd, roused by the confusion, uncoiled himself, crept behind +Ortheris, and slung him aloft on his shoulders. + +'Sing, ye bloomin' hummin' bird!' said he, and Ortheris, beating time +on Learoyd's skull, delivered himself, in the raucous voice of the +Ratcliffe Highway, of this song:-- + + My girl she give me the go onst, + When I was a London lad, + An' I went on the drink for a fortnight, + An' then I went to the bad. + The Queen she gave me a shillin' + To fight for 'er over the seas; + But Guv'ment built me a fever-trap, + An' Injia gave me disease. + + _Chorus._ + + Ho! don't you 'eed what a girl says, + An' don't you go for the beer; + But I was an ass when I was at grass, + An' that is why I'm here. + + I fired a shot at a Afghan, + The beggar 'e fired again, + An' I lay on my bed with a 'ole in my 'ed, + An' missed the next campaign! + I up with my gun at a Burman + Who carried a bloomin' _dah_, + But the cartridge stuck and the bay'nit bruk, + An' all I got was the scar. + + _Chorus._ + + Ho! don't you aim at a Afghan + When you stand on the sky-line clear; + An' don't you go for a Burman + If none o' your friends is near. + + I served my time for a corp'ral, + An' wetted my stripes with pop, + For I went on the bend with a intimate friend, + An' finished the night in the 'shop.' + + I served my time for a sergeant; + The colonel 'e sez 'No! + The most you'll see is a full C.B.'[2] + An' ... very next night 'twas so. + + _Chorus._ + + Ho! don't you go for a corp'ral + Unless your 'ed is clear; + But I was an ass when I was at grass, + An' that is why I'm 'ere. + + I've tasted the luck o' the army + In barrack an' camp an' clink, + An' I lost my tip through the bloomin' trip + Along o' the women an' drink. + I'm down at the heel o' my service + An' when I am laid on the shelf, + My very wust friend from beginning to end + By the blood of a mouse was myself! + + _Chorus._ + + Ho! don't you 'eed what a girl says, + An' don't you go for the beer; + But I was an ass when I was at grass, + An' that is why I'm 'ere. + +Ay, listen to our little man now, singin' an' shoutin' as tho' trouble +had niver touched him. D' you remember when he went mad with the +home-sickness?' said Mulvaney, recalling a never-to-be-forgotten +season when Ortheris waded through the deep waters of affliction and +behaved abominably. 'But he's talkin' bitter truth, though. Eyah! + + 'My very worst frind from beginnin' to ind + By the blood av a mouse was mesilf!' + . . . . . + +When I woke I saw Mulvaney, the night-dew gemming his moustache, +leaning on his rifle at picket, lonely as Prometheus on his rock, with +I know not what vultures tearing his liver. + +[Illustration] + +FOOTNOTES: + +[2] Confined to barracks. + + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE INCARNATION OF KRISHNA MULVANEY + + Wohl auf, my bully cavaliers + We ride to church to-day, + The man that hasn't got a horse + Must steal one straight away. + . . . . . + Be reverent, men, remember + This is a Gottes haus + Du, Conrad, cut along der aisle + And schenck der whisky aus. + + _Hans Breitmann's Ride to Church._ + + +Once upon a time, very far from England, there lived three men who +loved each other so greatly that neither man nor woman could come +between them. They were in no sense refined, nor to be admitted to the +outer-door mats of decent folk, because they happened to be private +soldiers in Her Majesty's Army; and private soldiers of our service +have small time for self-culture. Their duty is to keep themselves and +their accoutrements specklessly clean, to refrain from getting drunk +more often than is necessary, to obey their superiors, and to pray +for a war. All these things my friends accomplished; and of their own +motion threw in some fighting-work for which the Army Regulations did +not call. Their fate sent them to serve in India, which is not a +golden country, though poets have sung otherwise. There men die with +great swiftness, and those who live suffer many and curious things. I +do not think that my friends concerned themselves much with the social +or political aspects of the East. They attended a not unimportant war +on the northern frontier, another one on our western boundary, and a +third in Upper Burma. Then their regiment sat still to recruit, and +the boundless monotony of cantonment life was their portion. They were +drilled morning and evening on the same dusty parade-ground. They +wandered up and down the same stretch of dusty white road, attended +the same church and the same grog-shop, and slept in the same +lime-washed barn of a barrack for two long years. There was Mulvaney, +the father in the craft, who had served with various regiments from +Bermuda to Halifax, old in war, scarred, reckless, resourceful, and in +his pious hours an unequalled soldier. To him turned for help and +comfort six and a half feet of slow-moving, heavy-footed Yorkshireman, +born on the wolds, bred in the dales, and educated chiefly among the +carriers' carts at the back of York railway-station. His name was +Learoyd, and his chief virtue an unmitigated patience which helped him +to win fights. How Ortheris, a fox-terrier of a Cockney, ever came to +be one of the trio, is a mystery which even to-day I cannot explain. +'There was always three av us,' Mulvaney used to say. 'An' by the +grace av God, so long as our service lasts, three av us they'll always +be. 'Tis betther so.' + +They desired no companionship beyond their own, and it was evil for +any man of the regiment who attempted dispute with them. Physical +argument was out of the question as regarded Mulvaney and the +Yorkshireman; and assault on Ortheris meant a combined attack from +these twain--a business which no five men were anxious to have on +their hands. Therefore they flourished, sharing their drinks, their +tobacco, and their money; good luck and evil; battle and the chances +of death; life and the chances of happiness from Calicut in Southern, +to Peshawur in Northern India. + +Through no merit of my own it was my good fortune to be in a measure +admitted to their friendship--frankly by Mulvaney from the beginning, +sullenly and with reluctance by Learoyd, and suspiciously by Ortheris, +who held to it that no man not in the Army could fraternise with a +red-coat. 'Like to like,' said he. 'I'm a bloomin' sodger--he's a +bloomin' civilian. 'Taint natural--that's all.' + +But that was not all. They thawed progressively, and in the thawing +told me more of their lives and adventures than I am ever likely to +write. + +Omitting all else, this tale begins with the Lamentable Thirst that +was at the beginning of First Causes. Never was such a thirst--Mulvaney +told me so. They kicked against their compulsory virtue, but the +attempt was only successful in the case of Ortheris. He, whose talents +were many, went forth into the highways and stole a dog from a +'civilian'--_videlicet_, some one, he knew not who, not in the Army. +Now that civilian was but newly connected by marriage with the Colonel +of the regiment, and outcry was made from quarters least anticipated +by Ortheris, and, in the end, he was forced, lest a worse thing should +happen, to dispose at ridiculously unremunerative rates of as +promising a small terrier as ever graced one end of a leading string. +The purchase-money was barely sufficient for one small outbreak, which +led him to the guard-room. He escaped, however, with nothing worse +than a severe reprimand, and a few hours of punishment drill. Not for +nothing had he acquired the reputation of being 'the best soldier of +his inches' in the regiment. Mulvaney had taught personal cleanliness +and efficiency as the first articles of his companions' creed. 'A +dhirty man,' he was used to say, in the speech of his kind, 'goes to +Clink for a weakness in the knees, an' is coort-martialled for a pair +av socks missin'; but a clane man, such as is an ornament to his +service--a man whose buttons are gold, whose coat is wax upon him, an' +whose 'coutrements are widout a speck--_that_ man may, spakin' in +reason, do fwhat he likes an' dhrink from day to divil. That's the +pride av bein' dacint.' + +We sat together, upon a day, in the shade of a ravine far from the +barracks, where a watercourse used to run in rainy weather. Behind us +was the scrub jungle, in which jackals, peacocks, the gray wolves of +the North-Western Provinces, and occasionally a tiger estrayed from +Central India, were supposed to dwell. In front lay the cantonment, +glaring white under a glaring sun; and on either side ran the broad +road that led to Delhi. + +It was the scrub that suggested to my mind the wisdom of Mulvaney +taking a day's leave and going upon a shooting-tour. The peacock is a +holy bird throughout India, and he who slays one is in danger of being +mobbed by the nearest villagers; but on the last occasion that +Mulvaney had gone forth, he had contrived, without in the least +offending local religious susceptibilities, to return with six +beautiful peacock skins which he sold to profit. It seemed just +possible then---- + +'But fwhat manner av use is ut to me goin' out widout a dhrink? The +ground's powdher-dhry underfoot, an' ut gets unto the throat fit to +kill,' wailed Mulvaney, looking at me reproachfully. 'An' a peacock is +not a bird you can catch the tail av onless ye run. Can a man run on +wather--an' jungle-wather too?' + +Ortheris had considered the question in all its bearings. He spoke, +chewing his pipe-stem meditatively the while:-- + + 'Go forth, return in glory, + To Clusium's royal 'ome: + An' round these bloomin' temples 'ang + The bloomin' shields o' Rome. + +You better go. You ain't like to shoot yourself--not while there's a +chanst of liquor. Me an' Learoyd'll stay at 'ome an' keep shop--'case +o' anythin' turnin' up. But you go out with a gas-pipe gun an' ketch +the little peacockses or somethin'. You kin get one day's leave easy +as winkin'. Go along an' get it, an' get peacockses or somethin'.' + +'Jock,' said Mulvaney, turning to Learoyd, who was half asleep under +the shadow of the bank. He roused slowly. + +'Sitha, Mulvaney, go,' said he. + +And Mulvaney went; cursing his allies with Irish fluency and +barrack-room point. + +'Take note,' said he, when he had won his holiday, and appeared +dressed in his roughest clothes with the only other regimental +fowling-piece in his hand. 'Take note, Jock, an' you, Orth'ris, I am +goin' in the face av my own will--all for to please you. I misdoubt +anythin' will come av permiscuous huntin' afther peacockses in a +desolit lan'; an' I know that I will lie down an' die wid thirrrst. Me +catch peacockses for you, ye lazy scutts--an' be sacrificed by the +peasanthry--ugh!' + +He waved a huge paw and went away. + +At twilight, long before the appointed hour, he returned empty-handed, +much begrimed with dirt. + +'Peacockses?' queried Ortheris from the safe rest of a barrack-room +table whereon he was smoking cross-legged, Learoyd fast asleep on a +bench. + +'Jock,' said Mulvaney without answering, as he stirred up the sleeper. +'Jock, can ye fight? Will ye fight?' + +Very slowly the meaning of the words communicated itself to the +half-roused man. He understood--and again--what might these things +mean? Mulvaney was shaking him savagely. Meantime the men in the room +howled with delight. There was war in the confederacy at last--war and +the breaking of bonds. + +Barrack-room etiquette is stringent. On the direct challenge must +follow the direct reply. This is more binding than the ties of tried +friendship. Once again Mulvaney repeated the question. Learoyd +answered by the only means in his power, and so swiftly that the +Irishman had barely time to avoid the blow. The laughter around +increased. Learoyd looked bewilderedly at his friend--himself as +greatly bewildered. Ortheris dropped from the table because his world +was falling. + +'Come outside,' said Mulvaney, and as the occupants of the +barrack-room prepared joyously to follow, he turned and said +furiously, 'There will be no fight this night--onless any wan av you +is wishful to assist. The man that does, follows on.' + +No man moved. The three passed out into the moonlight, Learoyd +fumbling with the buttons of his coat. The parade-ground was deserted +except for the scurrying jackals. Mulvaney's impetuous rush carried +his companions far into the open ere Learoyd attempted to turn round +and continue the discussion. + +'Be still now. 'Twas my fault for beginnin' things in the middle av an +end, Jock. I should ha' comminst wid an explanation; but Jock, dear, +on your sowl are ye fit, think you, for the finest fight that iver +was--betther than fightin' me? Considher before ye answer.' + +More than ever puzzled, Learoyd turned round two or three times, felt +an arm, kicked tentatively, and answered, 'Ah'm fit.' He was +accustomed to fight blindly at the bidding of the superior mind. + +They sat them down, the men looking on from afar, and Mulvaney +untangled himself in mighty words. + +'Followin' your fools' scheme I wint out into the thrackless desert +beyond the barricks. An' there I met a pious Hindu dhriving a +bullock-kyart. I tuk ut for granted he wud be delighted for to convoy +me a piece, an' I jumped in----' + +'You long, lazy, black-haired swine,' drawled Ortheris, who would have +done the same thing under similar circumstances. + +''Twas the height av policy. That naygur-man dhruv miles an' miles--as +far as the new railway line they're buildin' now back av the Tavi +River. "'Tis a kyart for dhirt only," says he now an' again +timoreously, to get me out av ut. "Dhirt I am," sez I, "an' the +dhryest that you ever kyarted. Dhrive on, me son, an' glory be wid +you." At that I wint to slape, an' took no heed till he pulled up on +the embankmint av the line where the coolies were pilin' mud. There +was a matther av two thousand coolies on that line--you remimber that. +Prisintly a bell rang, an' they throops off to a big pay-shed. +"Where's the white man in charge?" sez I to my kyart-dhriver. "In the +shed," sez he, "engaged on a riffle."--"A fwhat?" sez I. "Riffle," sez +he. "You take ticket. He take money. You get nothin'."--"Oho!" sez I, +"that's fwhat the shuperior an' cultivated man calls a raffle, me +misbeguided child av darkness an' sin. Lead on to that raffle, though +fwhat the mischief 'tis doin' so far away from uts home--which is the +charity-bazar at Christmas, an' the Colonel's wife grinnin' behind the +tea-table--is more than I know." Wid that I wint to the shed an' found +'twas pay-day among the coolies. Their wages was on a table forninst a +big, fine, red buck av a man--sivun fut high, four fut wide, an' three +fut thick, wid a fist on him like a corn-sack. He was payin' the +coolies fair an' easy, but he wud ask each man if he wud raffle that +month, an' each man sez, "Yes," av course. Thin he wud deduct from +their wages accordin'. Whin all was paid, he filled an ould cigar-box +full av gun-wads an' scatthered ut among the coolies. They did not +take much joy av that performince, an' small wondher. A man close to +me picks up a black gunwad an' sings out, "I have ut."--"Good may ut +do you," sez I. The coolie wint forward to this big, fine, red man, +who threw a cloth off av the most sumpshus, jooled, enamelled an' +variously bedivilled sedan-chair I iver saw.' + +'Sedan-chair! Put your 'ead in a bag. That was a palanquin. Don't +yer know a palanquin when you see it?' said Ortheris with great scorn. + + [Illustration: '"Out of this," sez he, "I'm in charge av this + section av construction."--"I'm in charge av mesilf," sez I, + "an' it's like I will stay a while."'--P. 149.] + +'I chuse to call ut sedan-chair, an' chair ut shall be, little man,' +continued the Irishman. ''Twas a most amazin' chair--all lined wid +pink silk an' fitted wid red silk curtains. "Here ut is," sez the red +man. "Here ut is," sez the coolie, an' he grinned weakly-ways. "Is ut +any use to you?" sez the red man. "No," sez the coolie; "I'd like to +make a presint av ut to you."--"I am graciously pleased to accept that +same," sez the red man; an' at that all the coolies cried aloud in +fwhat was mint for cheerful notes, an' wint back to their diggin', +lavin' me alone in the shed. The red man saw me, an' his face grew +blue on his big, fat neck. "Fwhat d'you want here?" sez he. +"Standin'-room an' no more," sez I, "onless it may be fwhat ye niver +had, an' that's manners, ye rafflin' ruffian," for I was not goin' to +have the Service throd upon. "Out of this," sez he. "I'm in charge av +this section av construction."--"I'm in charge av mesilf," sez I, "an' +it's like I will stay a while. D'ye raffle much in these +parts?"--"Fwhat's that to you?" sez he. "Nothin'," sez I, "but a great +dale to you, for begad I'm thinkin' you get the full half av your +revenue from that sedan-chair. Is ut always raffled so?" I sez, an' +wid that I wint to a coolie to ask questions. Bhoys, that man's name +is Dearsley, an' he's been rafflin' that ould sedan-chair monthly +this matther av nine months. Ivry coolie on the section takes a +ticket--or he gives 'em the go--wanst a month on pay-day. Ivry coolie +that wins ut gives ut back to him, for 'tis too big to carry away, an' +he'd sack the man that thried to sell ut. That Dearsley has been +makin' the rowlin' wealth av Roshus by nefarious rafflin'. Think av +the burnin' shame to the sufferin' coolie-man that the army in Injia +are bound to protect an' nourish in their bosoms! Two thousand coolies +defrauded wanst a month!' + +'Dom t' coolies. Has't gotten t' cheer, man?' said Learoyd. + +'Hould on. Havin' onearthed this amazin' an' stupenjus fraud committed +by the man Dearsley, I hild a council av war; he thryin' all the time +to sejuce me into a fight wid opprobrious language. That sedan-chair +niver belonged by right to any foreman av coolies. 'Tis a king's chair +or a quane's. There's gold on ut an' silk an' all manner av +trapesemints. Bhoys, 'tis not for me to countenance any sort av +wrong-doin'--me bein' the ould man--but--anyway he has had ut nine +months, an' he dare not make throuble av ut was taken from him. Five +miles away, or ut may be six----' + +There was a long pause, and the jackals howled merrily. Learoyd bared +one arm, and contemplated it in the moonlight. Then he nodded partly +to himself and partly to his friends. Ortheris wriggled with +suppressed emotion. + +'I thought ye wud see the reasonableness av ut,' said Mulvaney. 'I +made bould to say as much to the man before. He was for a direct front +attack--fut, horse, an' guns--an' all for nothin', seem' that I had no +thransport to convey the machine away. "I will not argue wid you," sez +I, "this day, but subsequintly, Mister Dearsley, me rafflin' jool, we +talk ut out lengthways. 'Tis no good policy to swindle the naygur av +his hard-earned emolumints, an' by presint informashin'"--'twas the +kyart man that tould me--"ye've been perpethrating that same for nine +months. But I'm a just man," sez I, "an' overlookin' the presumpshin +that yondher settee wid the gilt top was not come by honust,"--at that +he turned sky-green, so I knew things was more thrue than +tellable--"not come by honust, I'm willin' to compound the felony for +this month's winnin's."' + +'Ah! Ho!' from Learoyd and Ortheris. + +'That man Dearsley's rushin' on his fate,' continued Mulvaney, +solemnly wagging his head. 'All Hell had no name bad enough for me +that tide. Faith, he called me a robber! Me! that was savin' him from +continuin' in his evil ways widout a remonstrince--an' to a man av +conscience a remonstrince may change the chune av his life. "'Tis not +for me to argue," sez I, "fwhatever ye are, Mister Dearsley, but, by +my hand, I'll take away the temptation for you that lies in that +sedan-chair."--"You will have to fight me for ut," sez he, "for well I +know you will never dare make report to any one."--"Fight I will," sez +I, "but not this day, for I'm rejuced for want av nourishment."--"Ye're +an ould bould hand," sez he, sizin' up me an' down; "an' a jool of a +fight we will have. Eat now an' dhrink, an' go your way." Wid that he +gave me some hump an' whisky--good whisky--an' we talked av this an' +that the while. "It goes hard on me now," sez I, wipin' my mouth, "to +confiscate that piece of furniture, but justice is justice."--"Ye've +not got ut yet," sez he; "there's the fight between."--"There is," sez +I, "an' a good fight. Ye shall have the pick av the best quality in my +regimint for the dinner you have given this day." Thin I came hot-foot +to you two. Hould your tongue, the both. 'Tis this way. To-morrow we +three will go there an' he shall have his pick betune me an' Jock. +Jock's a deceivin' fighter, for he is all fat to the eye, an' he moves +slow. Now I'm all beef to the look, an' I move quick. By my reckonin' +the Dearsley man won't take me; so me an' Orth'ris'll see fair play. +Jock, I tell you, 'twill be big fightin'--whipped, wid the cream above +the jam. Afther the business 'twill take a good three av us--Jock'll +be very hurt--to haul away that sedan-chair.' + +'Palanquin.' This from Ortheris. + +'Fwhatever ut is, we must have ut. 'Tis the only sellin' piece av +property widin reach that we can get so cheap. An' fwhat's a fight +afther all? He has robbed the naygur-man, dishonust. We rob him honust +for the sake av the whisky he gave me.' + +'But wot'll we do with the bloomin' article when we've got it? Them +palanquins are as big as 'ouses, an' uncommon 'ard to sell, as +M'Cleary said when ye stole the sentry-box from the Curragh.' + +'Who's goin' to do t' fightin'?' said Learoyd, and Ortheris subsided. +The three returned to barracks without a word. Mulvaney's last +argument clinched the matter. This palanquin was property, vendible +and to be attained in the simplest and least embarrassing fashion. It +would eventually become beer. Great was Mulvaney. + +Next afternoon a procession of three formed itself and disappeared +into the scrub in the direction of the new railway line. Learoyd alone +was without care, for Mulvaney dived darkly into the future, and +little Ortheris feared the unknown. What befell at that interview in +the lonely pay-shed by the side of the half-built embankment, only a +few hundred coolies know, and their tale is a confusing one, running +thus:-- + +'We were at work. Three men in red coats came. They saw the +Sahib--Dearsley Sahib. They made oration; and noticeably the small +man among the red-coats. Dearsley Sahib also made oration, and used +many very strong words. Upon this talk they departed together to an +open space, and there the fat man in the red coat fought with Dearsley +Sahib after the custom of white men--with his hands, making no noise, +and never at all pulling Dearsley Sahib's hair. Such of us as were not +afraid beheld these things for just so long a time as a man needs to +cook the mid-day meal. The small man in the red coat had possessed +himself of Dearsley Sahib's watch. No, he did not steal that watch. He +held it in his hand, and at certain seasons made outcry, and the twain +ceased their combat, which was like the combat of young bulls in +spring. Both men were soon all red, but Dearsley Sahib was much more +red than the other. Seeing this, and fearing for his life--because we +greatly loved him--some fifty of us made shift to rush upon the +red-coats. But a certain man,--very black as to the hair, and in no +way to be confused with the small man, or the fat man who +fought,--that man, we affirm, ran upon us, and of us he embraced some +ten or fifty in both arms, and beat our heads together, so that our +livers turned to water, and we ran away. It is not good to interfere +in the fightings of white men. After that Dearsley Sahib fell and did +not rise, these men jumped upon his stomach and despoiled him of all +his money, and attempted to fire the pay-shed, and departed. Is it +true that Dearsley Sahib makes no complaint of these latter things +having been done? We were senseless with fear, and do not at all +remember. There was no palanquin near the pay-shed. What do we know +about palanquins? Is it true that Dearsley Sahib does not return to +this place, on account of his sickness, for ten days? This is the +fault of those bad men in the red coats, who should be severely +punished; for Dearsley Sahib is both our father and mother, and we +love him much. Yet, if Dearsley Sahib does not return to this place at +all, we will speak the truth. There was a palanquin, for the up-keep +of which we were forced to pay nine-tenths of our monthly wage. On +such mulctings Dearsley Sahib allowed us to make obeisance to him +before the palanquin. What could we do? We were poor men. He took a +full half of our wages. Will the Government repay us those moneys? +Those three men in red coats bore the palanquin upon their shoulders +and departed. All the money that Dearsley Sahib had taken from us was +in the cushions of that palanquin. Therefore they stole it. Thousands +of rupees were there--all our money. It was our bank-box, to fill +which we cheerfully contributed to Dearsley Sahib three-sevenths of +our monthly wage. Why does the white man look upon us with the eye of +disfavour? Before God, there was a palanquin, and now there is no +palanquin; and if they send the police here to make inquisition, we +can only say that there never has been any palanquin. Why should a +palanquin be near these works? We are poor men, and we know nothing.' + +Such is the simplest version of the simplest story connected with the +descent upon Dearsley. From the lips of the coolies I received it. +Dearsley himself was in no condition to say anything, and Mulvaney +preserved a massive silence, broken only by the occasional licking of +the lips. He had seen a fight so gorgeous that even his power of +speech was taken from him. I respected that reserve until, three days +after the affair, I discovered in a disused stable in my quarters a +palanquin of unchastened splendour--evidently in past days the litter +of a queen. The pole whereby it swung between the shoulders of the +bearers was rich with the painted _papier-mache_ of Cashmere. The +shoulder-pads were of yellow silk. The panels of the litter itself +were ablaze with the loves of all the gods and goddesses of the Hindu +Pantheon--lacquer on cedar. The cedar sliding doors were fitted with +hasps of translucent Jaipur enamel and ran in grooves shod with +silver. The cushions were of brocaded Delhi silk, and the curtains +which once hid any glimpse of the beauty of the king's palace were +stiff with gold. Closer investigation showed that the entire fabric +was everywhere rubbed and discoloured by time and wear; but even +thus it was sufficiently gorgeous to deserve housing on the threshold +of a royal zenana. I found no fault with it, except that it was in my +stable. Then, trying to lift it by the silver-shod shoulder-pole, I +laughed. The road from Dearsley's pay-shed to the cantonment was a +narrow and uneven one, and, traversed by three very inexperienced +palanquin-bearers, one of whom was sorely battered about the head, +must have been a path of torment. Still I did not quite recognise the +right of the three musketeers to turn me into a 'fence' for stolen +property. + + [Illustration: 'Nine roun's they were even matched, an' at the + tenth----.'--P. 157.] + +'I'm askin' you to warehouse ut,' said Mulvaney, when he was brought +to consider the question. 'There's no steal in ut. Dearsley tould us +we cud have ut if we fought. Jock fought--an', oh, Sorr, when the +throuble was at uts finest an' Jock was bleedin' like a stuck pig, an' +little Orth'ris was shquealin' on one leg chewin' big bites out av +Dearsley's watch, I wud ha' given my place at the fight to have had +you see wan round. He tuk Jock, as I suspicioned he would, an' Jock +was deceptive. Nine roun's they were even matched, an' at the +tenth---- About that palanquin now. There's not the least throuble in +the world, or we wud not ha' brought ut here. You will ondherstand +that the Queen--God bless her!--does not reckon for a privit soldier +to kape elephints an' palanquins an' sich in barricks. Afther we had +dhragged ut down from Dearsley's through that cruel scrub that near +broke Orth'ris's heart, we set ut in the ravine for a night; an' a +thief av a porcupine an' a civet-cat av a jackal roosted in ut, as +well we knew in the mornin'. I put ut to you, Sorr, is an elegint +palanquin, fit for the princess, the natural abidin' place av all the +vermin in cantonmints? We brought ut to you, afther dhark, and put ut +in your shtable. Do not let your conscience prick. Think av the +rejoicin' men in the pay-shed yonder--lookin' at Dearsley wid his head +tied up in a towel--an' well knowin' that they can dhraw their pay +ivry month widout stoppages for riffles. Indirectly, Sorr, you have +rescued from an onprincipled son av a night-hawk the peasanthry av a +numerous village. An' besides, will I let that sedan-chair rot on our +hands? Not I. 'Tis not every day a piece av pure joolry comes into the +market. There's not a king widin these forty miles'--he waved his hand +round the dusty horizon--'not a king wud not be glad to buy ut. Some +day mesilf, whin I have leisure, I'll take ut up along the road an' +dishpose av ut.' + +'How?' said I, for I knew the man was capable of anything. + +'Get into ut, av coorse, and keep wan eye open through the curtains. +Whin I see a likely man av the native persuasion, I will descind +blushin' from my canopy and say, "Buy a palanquin, ye black scutt?" I +will have to hire four men to carry me first, though; and that's +impossible till next pay-day.' + +Curiously enough, Learoyd, who had fought for the prize, and in the +winning secured the highest pleasure life had to offer him, was +altogether disposed to undervalue it, while Ortheris openly said it +would be better to break the thing up. Dearsley, he argued, might be a +many-sided man, capable, despite his magnificent fighting qualities, +of setting in motion the machinery of the civil law--a thing much +abhorred by the soldier. Under any circumstances their fun had come +and passed; the next pay-day was close at hand, when there would be +beer for all. Wherefore longer conserve the painted palanquin? + +'A first-class rifle-shot an' a good little man av your inches you +are,' said Mulvaney. 'But you niver had a head worth a soft-boiled +egg. 'Tis me has to lie awake av nights schamin' an' plottin' for the +three av us. Orth'ris, me son, 'tis no matther av a few gallons av +beer--no, nor twenty gallons--but tubs an' vats an' firkins in that +sedan-chair. Who ut was, an' what ut was, an' how ut got there, we do +not know; but I know in my bones that you an' me an' Jock wid his +sprained thumb will get a fortune thereby. Lave me alone, an' let me +think.' + +Meantime the palanquin stayed in my stall, the key of which was in +Mulvaney's hands. + +Pay-day came, and with it beer. It was not in experience to hope that +Mulvaney, dried by four weeks' drought, would avoid excess. Next +morning he and the palanquin had disappeared. He had taken the +precaution of getting three days' leave 'to see a friend on the +railway,' and the Colonel, well knowing that the seasonal outburst was +near, and hoping it would spend its force beyond the limits of his +jurisdiction, cheerfully gave him all he demanded. At this point +Mulvaney's history, as recorded in the mess-room, stopped. + +Ortheris carried it not much further. 'No, 'e wasn't drunk,' said the +little man loyally, 'the liquor was no more than feelin' its way round +inside of 'im; but 'e went an' filled that 'ole bloomin' palanquin +with bottles 'fore 'e went off. 'E's gone an' 'ired six men to carry +'im, an' I 'ad to 'elp 'im into 'is nupshal couch, 'cause 'e wouldn't +'ear reason. 'E's gone off in 'is shirt an' trousies, swearin' +tremenjus--gone down the road in the palanquin, wavin' 'is legs out o' +windy.' + +'Yes,' said I, 'but where?' + +'Now you arx me a question. 'E said 'e was goin' to sell that +palanquin, but from observations what happened when I was stuffin' +'im through the door, I fancy 'e's gone to the new embankment to mock +at Dearsley. 'Soon as Jock's off duty I'm goin' there to see if 'e's +safe--not Mulvaney, but t'other man. My saints, but I pity 'im as +'elps Terence out o' the palanquin when 'e's once fair drunk!' + +'He'll come back without harm,' I said. + +''Corse 'e will. On'y question is, what'll 'e be doin' on the road? +Killing Dearsley, like as not. 'E shouldn't 'a gone without Jock or +me.' + +Reinforced by Learoyd, Ortheris sought the foreman of the coolie-gang. +Dearsley's head was still embellished with towels. Mulvaney, drunk or +sober, would have struck no man in that condition, and Dearsley +indignantly denied that he would have taken advantage of the +intoxicated brave. + +'I had my pick o' you two,' he explained to Learoyd, 'and you got my +palanquin--not before I'd made my profit on it. Why'd I do harm when +everything's settled?' Your man _did_ come here--drunk as Davy's sow +on a frosty night--came a-purpose to mock me--stuck his head out of +the door an' called me a crucified hodman. I made him drunker, an' +sent him along. But I never touched him.' + +To these things Learoyd, slow to perceive the evidences of sincerity, +answered only, 'If owt comes to Mulvaaney 'long o' you, I'll gripple +you, clouts or no clouts on your ugly head, an' I'll draw t' throat +twistyways, man. See there now.' + +The embassy removed itself, and Dearsley, the battered, laughed alone +over his supper that evening. + +Three days passed--a fourth and a fifth. The week drew to a close and +Mulvaney did not return. He, his royal palanquin, and his six +attendants, had vanished into air. A very large and very tipsy +soldier, his feet sticking out of the litter of a reigning princess, +is not a thing to travel along the ways without comment. Yet no man of +all the country round had seen any such wonder. He was, and he was +not; and Learoyd suggested the immediate smashment of Dearsley as a +sacrifice to his ghost. Ortheris insisted that all was well, and in +the light of past experience his hopes seemed reasonable. + +'When Mulvaney goes up the road,' said he, ''e's like to go a very +long ways up, specially when 'e's so blue drunk as 'e is now. But what +gits me is 'is not bein' 'eard of pullin' wool off the niggers +somewheres about. That don't look good. The drink must ha' died out in +'im by this, unless 'e's broke a bank, an' then--why don't 'e come +back? 'E didn't ought to ha' gone off without us.' + +Even Ortheris's heart sank at the end of the seventh day, for half the +regiment were out scouring the countryside, and Learoyd had been +forced to fight two men who hinted openly that Mulvaney had deserted. +To do him justice, the Colonel laughed at the notion, even when it was +put forward by his much-trusted Adjutant. + +'Mulvaney would as soon think of deserting as you would,' said he. +'No; he's either fallen into a mischief among the villagers--and yet +that isn't likely, for he'd blarney himself out of the Pit; or else he +is engaged on urgent private affairs--some stupendous devilment that +we shall hear of at mess after it has been the round of the +barrack-rooms. The worst of it is that I shall have to give him +twenty-eight days' confinement at least for being absent without +leave, just when I most want him to lick the new batch of recruits +into shape. I never knew a man who could put a polish on young +soldiers as quickly as Mulvaney can. How does he do it?' + +'With blarney and the buckle-end of a belt, Sir,' said the Adjutant. +'He is worth a couple of non-commissioned officers when we are dealing +with an Irish draft, and the London lads seem to adore him. The worst +of it is that if he goes to the cells the other two are neither to +hold nor to bind till he comes out again. I believe Ortheris preaches +mutiny on those occasions, and I know that the mere presence of +Learoyd mourning for Mulvaney kills all the cheerfulness of his room. +The sergeants tell me that he allows no man to laugh when he feels +unhappy. They are a queer gang.' + +'For all that, I wish we had a few more of them. I like a +well-conducted regiment, but these pasty-faced, shifty-eyed, +mealy-mouthed young slouchers from the Depot worry me sometimes with +their offensive virtue. They don't seem to have backbone enough to do +anything but play cards and prowl round the married quarters. I +believe I'd forgive that old villain on the spot if he turned up with +any sort of explanation that I could in decency accept.' + +'Not likely to be much difficulty about that, Sir,' said the Adjutant. +'Mulvaney's explanations are only one degree less wonderful than his +performances. They say that when he was in the Black Tyrone, before he +came to us, he was discovered on the banks of the Liffey trying to +sell his colonel's charger to a Donegal dealer as a perfect lady's +hack. Shackbolt commanded the Tyrone then.' + +'Shackbolt must have had apoplexy at the thought of his ramping +war-horses answering to that description. He used to buy unbacked +devils, and tame them on some pet theory of starvation. What did +Mulvaney say?' + +'That he was a member of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to +Animals, anxious to "sell the poor baste where he would get something +to fill out his dimples." Shackbolt laughed, but I fancy that was why +Mulvaney exchanged to ours.' + +'I wish he were back,' said the Colonel; 'for I like him and believe +he likes me.' + +That evening, to cheer our souls, Learoyd, Ortheris, and I went into +the waste to smoke out a porcupine. All the dogs attended, but even +their clamour--and they began to discuss the shortcomings of +porcupines before they left cantonments--could not take us out of +ourselves. A large, low moon turned the tops of the plume-grass to +silver, and the stunted camelthorn bushes and sour tamarisks into the +likenesses of trooping devils. The smell of the sun had not left the +earth, and little aimless winds blowing across the rose-gardens to the +southward brought the scent of dried roses and water. Our fire once +started, and the dogs craftily disposed to wait the dash of the +porcupine, we climbed to the top of a rain-scarred hillock of earth, +and looked across the scrub seamed with cattle paths, white with the +long grass, and dotted with spots of level pond-bottom, where the +snipe would gather in winter. + +'This,' said Ortheris, with a sigh, as he took in the unkempt +desolation of it all, 'this is sanguinary. This is unusually +sanguinary. Sort o' mad country. Like a grate when the fire's put out +by the sun.' He shaded his eyes against the moonlight. 'An' there's a +loony dancin' in the middle of it all. Quite right. I'd dance too if I +wasn't so downheart.' + +There pranced a Portent in the face of the moon--a huge and ragged +spirit of the waste, that flapped its wings from afar. It had risen +out of the earth; it was coming towards us, and its outline was never +twice the same. The toga, tablecloth, or dressing-gown, whatever the +creature wore, took a hundred shapes. Once it stopped on a +neighbouring mound and flung all its legs and arms to the winds. + +'My, but that scarecrow 'as got 'em bad!' said Ortheris. 'Seems like +if 'e comes any furder we'll 'ave to argify with 'im.' + +Learoyd raised himself from the dirt as a bull clears his flanks of +the wallow. And as a bull bellows, so he, after a short minute at +gaze, gave tongue to the stars. + +'MULVAANEY! MULVAANEY! A-hoo!' + +Oh then it was that we yelled, and the figure dipped into the hollow, +till, with a crash of rending grass, the lost one strode up to the +light of the fire, and disappeared to the waist in a wave of joyous +dogs! Then Learoyd and Ortheris gave greeting, bass and falsetto +together, both swallowing a lump in the throat. + + [Illustration: There pranced a Portent in the face of the + moon.--P. 166.] + +'You damned fool!' said they, and severally pounded him with their +fists. + +'Go easy!' he answered; wrapping a huge arm round each. 'I would have +you to know that I am a god, to be treated as such--tho', by my faith, +I fancy I've got to go to the guard-room just like a privit soldier.' + +The latter part of the sentence destroyed the suspicions raised by the +former. Any one would have been justified in regarding Mulvaney as +mad. He was hatless and shoeless, and his shirt and trousers were +dropping off him. But he wore one wondrous garment--a gigantic cloak +that fell from collar-bone to heel--of pale pink silk, wrought all +over in cunningest needlework of hands long since dead, with the loves +of the Hindu gods. The monstrous figures leaped in and out of the +light of the fire as he settled the folds round him. + +Ortheris handled the stuff respectfully for a moment while I was +trying to remember where I had seen it before. Then he screamed, 'What +_'ave_ you done with the palanquin? You're wearin' the linin'.' + +'I am,' said the Irishman, 'an' by the same token the 'broidery is +scrapin' my hide off. I've lived in this sumpshus counterpane for four +days. Me son, I begin to ondherstand why the naygur is no use. Widout +me boots, an' me trousies like an openwork stocking on a gyurl's leg +at a dance, I begin to feel like a naygur-man--all fearful an' +timoreous. Give me a pipe an' I'll tell on.' + +He lit a pipe, resumed his grip of his two friends, and rocked to and +fro in a gale of laughter. + +'Mulvaney,' said Ortheris sternly, ''taint no time for laughin'. +You've given Jock an' me more trouble than you're worth. You 'ave been +absent without leave an' you'll go into cells for that; an' you 'ave +come back disgustin'ly dressed an' most improper in the linin' o' that +bloomin' palanquin. Instid of which you laugh. An' _we_ thought you +was dead all the time.' + +'Bhoys,' said the culprit, still shaking gently, 'whin I've done my +tale you may cry if you like, an' little Orth'ris here can thrample my +inside out. Ha' done an' listen. My performinces have been stupenjus: +my luck has been the blessed luck av the British Army--an' there's no +betther than that. I went out dhrunk an' dhrinkin' in the palanquin, +and I have come back a pink god. Did any of you go to Dearsley afther +my time was up? He was at the bottom of ut all.' + +'Ah said so,' murmured Learoyd. 'To-morrow ah'll smash t' face in upon +his heead.' + +'Ye will not. Dearsley's a jool av a man. Afther Ortheris had put me +into the palanquin an' the six bearer-men were gruntin' down the +road, I tuk thought to mock Dearsley for that fight. So I tould thim, +"Go to the embankmint," and there, bein' most amazin' full, I shtuck +my head out av the concern an' passed compliments wid Dearsley. I must +ha' miscalled him outrageous, for whin I am that way the power av the +tongue comes on me. I can bare remimber tellin' him that his mouth +opened endways like the mouth av a skate, which was thrue afther +Learoyd had handled ut; an' I clear remimber his takin' no manner nor +matter av offence, but givin' me a big dhrink of beer. 'Twas the beer +did the thrick, for I crawled back into the palanquin, steppin' on me +right ear wid me left foot, an' thin I slept like the dead. Wanst I +half roused, an' begad the noise in my head was tremenjus--roarin' and +rattlin' an' poundin', such as was quite new to me. "Mother av Mercy," +thinks I, "phwat a concertina I will have on my shoulders whin I +wake!" An' wid that I curls mysilf up to sleep before ut should get +hould on me. Bhoys, that noise was not dhrink, 'twas the rattle av a +thrain!' + +There followed an impressive pause. + +'Yes, he had put me on a thrain--put me palanquin an' all, an' six +black assassins av his own coolies that was in his nefarious +confidence, on the flat av a ballast-thruck, and we were rowlin' an' +bowlin' along to Benares. Glory be that I did not wake up thin an' +introjuce mysilf to the coolies. As I was sayin' I slept for the +betther part av a day an' a night. But remimber you, that that man +Dearsley had packed me off on wan av his material-thrains to Benares, +all for to make me overstay my leave an' get me into the cells.' + +The explanation was an eminently rational one. Benares lay at least +ten hours by rail from the cantonments, and nothing in the world could +have saved Mulvaney from arrest as a deserter had he appeared there in +the apparel of his orgies. Dearsley had not forgotten to take revenge. +Learoyd, drawing back a little, began to play soft blows over selected +portions of Mulvaney's body. His thoughts were away on the embankment, +and they meditated evil for Dearsley. Mulvaney continued:-- + +'Whin I was full awake the palanquin was set down in a street, I +suspicioned, for I cud hear people passin' an' talkin'. But I knew +well I was far from home. There is a queer smell upon our +cantonments--a smell av dried earth and brick-kilns wid whiffs av +cavalry stable-litter. This place smelt marigold flowers an' bad +water, an' wanst somethin' alive came an' blew heavy with his muzzle +at the chink av the shutter. "It's in a village I am," thinks I to +mysilf, "an' the parochial buffalo is investigatin' the palanquin." +But anyways I had no desire to move. Only lie still whin you're in +foreign parts an' the standin' luck av the British Army will carry ye +through. That is an epigram. I made ut. + +'Thin a lot av whishperin' divils surrounded the palanquin. "Take ut +up," sez wan man. "But who'll pay us?" sez another. "The Maharanee's +minister, av coorse," sez the man. "Oho!" sez I to mysilf, "I'm a +quane in me own right, wid a minister to pay me expenses. I'll be an +emperor if I lie still long enough; but this is no village I've +found." I lay quiet, but I gummed me right eye to a crack av the +shutters, an' I saw that the whole street was crammed wid palanquins +an' horses, an' a sprinklin' av naked priests all yellow powder an' +tigers' tails. But I may tell you, Orth'ris an' you, Learoyd, that av +all the palanquins ours was the most imperial an' magnificent. Now a +palanquin means a native lady all the world over, except whin a +soldier av the quane happens to be takin' a ride. "Women an' priests!" +sez I. "Your father's son is in the right pew this time, Terence. +There will be proceedin's." Six black divils in pink muslin tuk up the +palanquin, an' oh! but the rowlin' an' the rockin' made me sick. Thin +we got fair jammed among the palanquins--not more than fifty av +them--an' we grated an' bumped like Queenstown potato-smacks in a +runnin' tide. I cud hear the women gigglin' and squirkin' in their +palanquins, but mine was the royal equipage. They made way for ut, +an', begad, the pink muslin men o' mine were howlin', "Room for the +Maharanee av Gokral-Seetarun." Do you know aught av the lady, Sorr?' + +'Yes,' said I. 'She is a very estimable old queen of the Central +Indian States, and they say she is fat. How on earth could she go to +Benares without all the city knowing her palanquin?' + +''Twas the eternal foolishness av the naygur-man. They saw the +palanquin lying loneful an' forlornsome, an' the beauty av ut, after +Dearsley's men had dhropped ut and gone away, an' they gave ut the +best name that occurred to thim. Quite right too. For aught we know +the ould lady was thravellin' _incog_--like me. I'm glad to hear she's +fat. I was no light weight mysilf, an' my men were mortial anxious to +dhrop me under a great big archway promiscuously ornamented wid the +most improper carvin's an' cuttin's I iver saw. Begad! they made me +blush--like a--like a Maharanee.' + +'The temple of Prithi-Devi,' I murmured, remembering the monstrous +horrors of that sculptured archway at Benares. + +'Pretty Devilskins, savin' your presence, Sorr! There was nothin' +pretty about ut, except me. 'Twas all half dhark, an' whin the coolies +left they shut a big black gate behind av us, an' half a company av +fat yellow priests began pully-haulin' the palanquins into a dharker +place yet--a big stone hall full av pillars, an' gods, an' incense, +an' all manner av similar thruck. The gate disconcerted me, for I +perceived I wud have to go forward to get out, my retreat bein' cut +off. By the same token a good priest makes a bad palanquin-coolie. +Begad! they nearly turned me inside out draggin' the palanquin to the +temple. Now the disposishin av the forces inside was this way. The +Maharanee av Gokral-Seetarun--that was me--lay by the favour av +Providence on the far left flank behind the dhark av a pillar carved +with elephints' heads. The remainder av the palanquins was in a big +half circle facing in to the biggest, fattest, an' most amazin' +she-god that iver I dreamed av. Her head ran up into the black above +us, an' her feet stuck out in the light av a little fire av melted +butter that a priest was feedin' out av a butter-dish. Thin a man +began to sing an' play on somethin' back in the dhark, an' 'twas a +queer song. Ut made my hair lift on the back av my neck. Thin the +doors av all the palanquins slid back, an' the women bundled out. I +saw what I'll niver see again. 'Twas more glorious than +thransformations at a pantomime, for they was in pink an' blue an' +silver an' red an' grass green, wid dimonds an' imralds an' great red +rubies all over thim. But that was the least part av the glory. O +bhoys, they were more lovely than the like av any loveliness in hiven; +ay, their little bare feet were better than the white hands av a +lord's lady, an' their mouths were like puckered roses, an' their eyes +were bigger an' dharker than the eyes av any livin' women I've seen. +Ye may laugh, but I'm speakin' truth. I niver saw the like, an' niver +I will again.' + +'Seeing that in all probability you were watching the wives and +daughters of most of the kings of India, the chances are that you +won't,' I said, for it was dawning on me that Mulvaney had stumbled +upon a big Queens' Praying at Benares. + +'I niver will,' he said mournfully. 'That sight doesn't come twist to +any man. It made me ashamed to watch. A fat priest knocked at my door. +I didn't think he'd have the insolince to disturb the Maharanee av +Gokral-Seetarun, so I lay still. "The old cow's asleep," sez he to +another. "Let her be," sez that. "'Twill be long before she has a +calf!" I might ha' known before he spoke that all a woman prays for in +Injia--an' for matter o' that in England too--is childher. That made +me more sorry I'd come, me bein', as you well know, a childless man.' + +He was silent for a moment, thinking of his little son, dead many +years ago. + +'They prayed, an' the butter-fires blazed up an' the incense turned +everything blue, an' between that an' the fires the women looked as +tho' they were all ablaze an' twinklin'. They took hold av the +she-god's knees, they cried out an' they threw themselves about, an' +that world-without-end-amen music was dhrivin' thim mad. Mother av +Hiven! how they cried, an' the ould she-god grinnin' above thim all so +scornful! The dhrink was dyin' out in me fast, an' I was thinkin' +harder than the thoughts wud go through my head--thinkin' how to get +out, an' all manner of nonsense as well. The women were rockin' in +rows, their di'mond belts clickin', an' the tears runnin' out betune +their hands, an' the lights were goin' lower an' dharker. Thin there +was a blaze like lightnin' from the roof, an' that showed me the +inside av the palanquin, an' at the end where my foot was, stood the +livin' spit an' image o' mysilf worked on the linin'. This man here, +ut was.' + +He hunted in the folds of his pink cloak, ran a hand under one, and +thrust into the firelight a foot-long embroidered presentment of the +great god Krishna, playing on a flute. The heavy jowl, the staring +eye, and the blue-black moustache of the god made up a far-off +resemblance to Mulvaney. + +'The blaze was gone in a wink, but the whole schame came to me thin. +I believe I was mad too. I slid the off-shutter open an' rowled out +into the dhark behind the elephint-head pillar, tucked up my trousies +to my knees, slipped off my boots an' tuk a general hould av all the +pink linin' av the palanquin. Glory be, ut ripped out like a woman's +dhriss when you tread on ut at a sergeants' ball, an' a bottle came +with ut. I tuk the bottle an' the next minut I was out av the dhark av +the pillar, the pink linin' wrapped round me most graceful, the music +thunderin' like kettledrums, an' a could draft blowin' round my bare +legs. By this hand that did ut, I was Krishna tootlin' on the +flute--the god that the rig'mental chaplain talks about. A sweet sight +I must ha' looked. I knew my eyes were big, and my face was wax-white, +an' at the worst I must ha' looked like a ghost. But they took me for +the livin' god. The music stopped, and the women were dead dumb, an' I +crooked my legs like a shepherd on a china basin, an' I did the +ghost-waggle with my feet as I had done ut at the rig'mental theatre +many times, an' I slid acrost the width av that temple in front av the +she-god tootlin' on the beer bottle.' + +'Wot did you toot?' demanded Ortheris the practical. + + [Illustration: 'I was Krishna tootlin' on the flute.'--P. 176.] + +'Me? Oh!' Mulvaney sprang up, suiting the action to the word, and +sliding gravely in front of us, a dilapidated but imposing deity in +the half light. 'I sang-- + + 'Only say + You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan. + Don't say nay, + Charmin' Judy Callaghan. + +I didn't know me own voice when I sang. An' oh! 'twas pitiful to see +the women. The darlin's were down on their faces. Whin I passed the +last wan I cud see her poor little fingers workin' one in another as +if she wanted to touch my feet. So I dhrew the tail av this pink +overcoat over her head for the greater honour, an' I slid into the +dhark on the other side av the temple, and fetched up in the arms av a +big fat priest. All I wanted was to get away clear. So I tuk him by +his greasy throat an' shut the speech out av him. "Out!" sez I. "Which +way, ye fat heathen?"--"Oh!" sez he. "Man," sez I. "White man, soldier +man, common soldier man. Where in the name av confusion is the back +door?" The women in the temple were still on their faces, an' a young +priest was holdin' out his arms above their heads. + +'"This way," sez my fat friend, duckin' behind a big bull-god an' +divin' into a passage. Thin I remimbered that I must ha' made the +miraculous reputation av that temple for the next fifty years. "Not +so fast," I sez, an' I held out both my hands wid a wink. That ould +thief smiled like a father. I tuk him by the back av the neck in case +he should be wishful to put a knife into me unbeknowst, an' I ran him +up an' down the passage twice to collect his sensibilities! "Be +quiet," sez he, in English. "Now you talk sense," I sez. "Fwhat'll you +give me for the use av that most iligant palanquin I have no time to +take away?"--"Don't tell," sez he. "Is ut like?" sez I. "But ye might +give me my railway fare. I'm far from my home an' I've done you a +service." Bhoys, 'tis a good thing to be a priest. The ould man niver +throubled himself to dhraw from a bank. As I will prove to you +subsequint, he philandered all round the slack av his clothes an' +began dribblin' ten-rupee notes, old gold mohurs, and rupees into my +hand till I could hould no more.' + +'You lie!' said Ortheris. 'You're mad or sunstrook. A native don't +give coin unless you cut it out o' 'im. 'Tain't nature.' + +'Then my lie an' my sunstroke is concealed under that lump av sod +yonder,' retorted Mulvaney unruffled, nodding across the scrub. 'An' +there's a dale more in nature than your squidgy little legs have iver +taken you to, Orth'ris, me son. Four hundred an' thirty-four rupees +by my reckonin', _an'_ a big fat gold necklace that I took from him as +a remimbrancer, was our share in that business.' + +'An' 'e give it you for love?' said Ortheris. + +'We were alone in that passage. Maybe I was a trifle too pressin', but +considher fwhat I had done for the good av the temple and the +iverlastin' joy av those women. 'Twas cheap at the price. I wud ha' +taken more if I cud ha' found 'ut. I turned the ould man upside down +at the last, but he was milked dhry. Thin he opened a door in another +passage an' I found mysilf up to my knees in Benares river-water, an' +bad smellin' ut is. More by token I had come out on the river-line +close to the burnin' ghat and contagious to a cracklin' corpse. This +was in the heart av the night, for I had been four hours in the +temple. There was a crowd av boats tied up, so I tuk wan an' wint +across the river. Thin I came home acrost country, lyin' up by day.' + +'How on earth did you manage?' I said. + +'How did Sir Frederick Roberts get from Cabul to Candahar? He marched +an' he niver tould how near he was to breakin' down. That's why he is +fwhat he is. An' now----' Mulvaney yawned portentously. 'Now I will go +an' give myself up for absince widout leave. It's eight-an'-twenty +days an' the rough end of the Colonel's tongue in orderly-room, any +way you look at ut. But 'tis cheap at the price.' + +'Mulvaney,' said I softly. 'If there happens to be any sort of excuse +that the Colonel can in any way accept, I have a notion that you'll +get nothing more than the dressing-down. The new recruits are in, +and----' + +'Not a word more, Sorr. Is ut excuses the old man wants? 'Tis not my +way, but he shall have thim. I'll tell him I was engaged in financial +operations connected wid a church,' and he flapped his way to +cantonments and the cells, singing lustily:-- + + 'So they sent a corp'ril's file, + And they put me in the gyard-room + For conduck unbecomin' of a soldier.' + +And when he was lost in the mist of the moonlight we could hear the +refrain:-- + + 'Bang upon the big drum, bash upon the cymbals, + As we go marchin' along, boys, oh! + For although in this campaign + There's no whisky nor champagne, + We'll keep our spirits goin' with a song, boys!' + +Therewith he surrendered himself to the joyful and almost weeping +guard, and was made much of by his fellows. But to the Colonel he said +that he had been smitten with sunstroke and had lain insensible on a +villager's cot for untold hours; and between laughter and good-will +the affair was smoothed over, so that he could, next day, teach the +new recruits how to 'Fear God, Honour the Queen, Shoot Straight, and +Keep Clean.' + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE TAKING OF LUNGTUNGPEN + + So we loosed a bloomin' volley, + An' we made the beggars cut, + An' when our pouch was emptied out, + We used the bloomin' butt, + Ho! My! + Don't yer come anigh, + When Tommy is a playin' with the baynit an' the butt. + + _Barrack Room Ballad._ + + +My friend Private Mulvaney told me this, sitting on the parapet of the +road to Dagshai, when we were hunting butterflies together. He had +theories about the Army, and coloured clay pipes perfectly. He said +that the young soldier is the best to work with, 'on account av the +surpassing innocinse av the child.' + +'Now, listen!' said Mulvaney, throwing himself full length on the wall +in the sun. 'I'm a born scutt av the barrick-room! The Army's mate an' +dhrink to me, bekaze I'm wan av the few that can't quit ut. I've put +in sivinteen years, an' the pipeclay's in the marrow av me. Av I cud +have kept out av wan big dhrink a month, I wud have been a Hon'ry +Lift'nint by this time--a nuisince to my betthers, a laughin'-shtock +to my equils, an' a curse to meself. Bein' fwhat I am, I'm Privit +Mulvaney, wid no good-conduc' pay an' a devourin' thirst. Always +barrin' me little frind Bobs Bahadur, I know as much about the Army as +most men.' + +I said something here. + +'Wolseley be shot! Betune you an' me an' that butterfly net, he's a +ramblin', incoherint sort av a divil, wid wan oi on the Quane an' the +Coort, an' the other on his blessed silf--everlastin'ly playing Saysar +an' Alexandrier rowled into a lump. Now Bobs is a sensible little man. +Wid Bobs an' a few three-year-olds, I'd swape any army av the earth +into a towel, an' throw it away aftherwards. Faith, I'm not jokin'! +'Tis the bhoys--the raw bhoys--that don't know fwhat a bullut manes, +an' wudn't care av they did--that dhu the work. They're crammed wid +bull-mate till they fairly _ramps_ wid good livin'; and thin, av they +don't fight, they blow each other's hids off. 'Tis the trut' I'm +tellin' you. They shud be kept on water an' rice in the hot weather; +but there'd be a mut'ny av 'twas done. + +'Did ye iver hear how Privit Mulvaney tuk the town av Lungtungpen? I +thought not! 'Twas the Lift'nint got the credit; but 'twas me planned +the schame. A little before I was inviladed from Burma, me an' +four-an'-twenty young wans undher a Lift'nint Brazenose was ruinin' +our dijeshins thryin' to catch dacoits. An' such double-ended divils I +niver knew! 'Tis only a _dah_ an' a Snider that makes a dacoit. Widout +thim, he's a paceful cultivator, an' felony for to shoot. We hunted, +an' we hunted, an' tuk fever an' elephints now an' again; but no +dacoits. Evenshually, we _puckarowed_ wan man. "Trate him tinderly," +sez the Lift'nint. So I tuk him away into the jungle, wid the Burmese +Interprut'r an' my clanin'-rod. Sez I to the man, "My paceful +squireen," sez I, "you shquot on your hunkers an' dimonstrate to _my_ +frind here, where _your_ frinds are whin they're at home?" Wid that I +introjuced him to the clanin'-rod, an' he comminst to jabber; the +Interprut'r interprutin' in betweens, an' me helpin' the Intilligince +Departmint wid my clanin'-rod whin the man misremimbered. + +'Prisintly, I learn that, acrost the river, about nine miles away, was +a town just dhrippin' wid dahs, an' bohs an' arrows, an' dacoits, an' +elephints, an' _jingles_. "Good!" sez I; "this office will now close!" + +'That night, I went to the Lift'nint an' communicates my information. +I never thought much of Lift'nint Brazenose till that night. He was +shtiff wid books an' the-ouries, an' all manner av thrimmin's no +manner av use. "Town did ye say?" sez he. "Accordin' to the-ouries av +War, we shud wait for reinforcemints."--"Faith!" thinks I, "we'd +betther dig our graves thin"; for the nearest throops was up to their +shtocks in the marshes out Mimbu way. "But," says the Lift'nint, +"since 'tis a speshil case, I'll make an excepshin. We'll visit this +Lungtungpen to-night." + + [Illustration: '"Shtrip, bhoys," sez I. "Shtrip to the buff, + an' shwim in where glory waits!"'--P. 185.] + +'The bhoys was fairly woild wid deloight whin I tould 'em; an', by +this an' that, they wint through the jungle like buck-rabbits. About +midnight we come to the shtrame which I had clane forgot to minshin to +my orficer. I was on, ahead, wid four bhoys, an' I thought that the +Lift'nint might want to the-ourise. "Shtrip, bhoys," sez I. "Shtrip to +the buff, an' shwim in where glory waits!"--"But I _can't_ shwim!" sez +two av thim. "To think I should live to hear that from a bhoy wid a +board-school edukashin!" sez I. "Take a lump av thimber, an' me an' +Conolly here will ferry ye over, ye young ladies!" + +'We got an ould tree-trunk, an' pushed off wid the kits an' the rifles +on it. The night was chokin' dhark, an' just as we was fairly +embarked, I heard the Lift'nint behind av me callin' out. "There's a +bit av a _nullah_ here, Sorr," sez I, "but I can feel the bottom +already." So I cud, for I was not a yard from the bank." + +'"Bit av a _nullah_! Bit av an eshtuary!" sez the Lift'nint. "Go on, +ye mad Irishman! Shtrip, bhoys!" I heard him laugh; an' the bhoys +began shtrippin' an' rollin' a log into the wather to put their kits +on. So me an' Conolly shtruck out through the warm wather wid our +log, an' the rest come on behind. + +'That shtrame was miles woide! Orth'ris, on the rear-rank log, +whispers we had got into the Thames below Sheerness by mistake. "Kape +on shwimmin', ye little blayguard," sez I, "an' don't go pokin' your +dirty jokes at the Irriwaddy."--"Silince, men!" sings out the +Lift'nint. So we shwum on into the black dhark, wid our chests on the +logs, trustin' in the Saints an' the luck av the British Army. + +'Evenshually, we hit ground--a bit av sand--an' a man. I put my heel +on the back av him. He skreeched an' ran. + +'"_Now_ we've done it!" sez Lift'nint Brazenose. "Where the Divil _is_ +Lungtungpen?" There was about a minute and a half to wait. The bhoys +laid a hould av their rifles an' some thried to put their belts on; we +was marchin' wid fixed baynits av coorse. Thin we knew where +Lungtungpen was; for we had hit the river-wall av it in the dhark, an' +the whole town blazed wid thim messin' _jingles_ an' Sniders like a +cat's back on a frosty night. They was firin' all ways at wanst; but +over our hids into the shtrame. + +'"Have you got your rifles?" sez Brazenose. "Got 'em!" sez Orth'ris. +"I've got that thief Mulvaney's for all my back-pay, an' she'll kick +my heart sick wid that blunderin' long shtock av hers."--"Go on!" +yells Brazenose, whippin' his sword out. "Go on an' take the town! +An' the Lord have mercy on our sowls!" + + [Illustration: 'There was a _melly_ av a sumpshus kind for a + whoile.'--P. 187.] + +'Thin the bhoys gave wan divastatin' howl, an' pranced into the dhark, +feelin' for the town, an' blindin' an' stiffin' like Cavalry Ridin' +Masters whin the grass pricked their bare legs. I hammered wid the +butt at some bamboo-thing that felt wake, an' the rest come an' +hammered contagious, while the _jingles_ was jingling, an' feroshus +yells from inside was shplittin' our ears. We was too close under the +wall for thim to hurt us. + +'Evenshually, the thing, whatever ut was, bruk; an' the six-and-twinty +av us tumbled, wan after the other, naked as we was borrun, into the +town of Lungtungpen. There was a _melly_ av a sumpshus kind for a +whoile; but whether they tuk us, all white an' wet, for a new breed av +divil, or a new kind av dacoit, I don't know. They ran as though we +was both, an' we wint into thim, baynit an' butt, shriekin' wid +laughin'. There was torches in the shtreets, an' I saw little Orth'ris +rubbin' his showlther ivry time he loosed my long-shtock Martini; an' +Brazenose walkin' into the gang wid his sword, like Diarmid av the +Gowlden Collar--barring he hadn't a stitch av clothin' on him. We +diskivered elephints wid dacoits under their bellies, an', what wid +wan thing an' another, we was busy till mornin' takin' possession av +the town of Lungtungpen. + +'Thin we halted an' formed up, the wimmen howlin' in the houses an' +Lift'nint Brazenose blushin' pink in the light av the mornin' sun. +'Twas the most ondasint p'rade I iver tuk a hand in. Foive-and-twenty +privits an' an orficer av the Line in review ordher, an' not as much +as wud dust a fife betune 'em all in the way of clothin'! Eight av us +had their belts an' pouches on; but the rest had gone in wid a handful +av cartridges an' the skin God gave thim. _They_ was as nakid as +Vanus. + +'"Number off from the right!" sez the Lift'nint. "Odd numbers fall out +to dress; even numbers pathrol the town till relieved by the dressing +party." Let me tell you, pathrollin' a town wid nothing on is an +ex_pay_rience. I pathrolled for tin minutes, an' begad, before 'twas +over, I blushed. The women laughed so. I niver blushed before or +since; but I blushed all over my carkiss thin. Orth'ris didn't +pathrol. He sez only, "Portsmith Barricks an' the 'Aard av a Sunday!" +Thin he lay down an' rowled any ways wid laughin'. + +'Whin we was all dhressed, we counted the dead--sivinty-foive dacoits +besides wounded. We tuk five elephints, a hunder' an' sivinty Sniders, +two hunder' dahs, and a lot av other burglarious thruck. Not a man av +us was hurt--excep' maybe the Lift'nint, an' he from the shock to his +dasincy. + +'The Headman av Lungtungpen, who surrinder'd himself, asked the +Interprut'r--"Av the English fight like that wid their clo'es off, +what in the wurruld do they do wid their clo'es on?" Orth'ris began +rowlin' his eyes an' crackin' his fingers an' dancin' a step-dance for +to impress the Headman. He ran to his house; an' we spint the rest av +the day carryin' the Lift'nint on our showlthers round the town, an' +playin' wid the Burmese babies--fat, little, brown little divils, as +pretty as picturs. + +'Whin I was inviladed for the dysent'ry to India, I sez to the +Lift'nint, "Sorr," sez I, "you've the makin's in you av a great man; +but, av you'll let an ould sodger spake, you're too fond of +the-ourisin'." He shuk hands wid me and sez, "Hit high, hit low, +there's no plasin' you, Mulvaney. You've seen me waltzin' through +Lungtungpen like a Red Injin widout the war-paint, an' you say I'm too +fond av the-ourisin'?"--"Sorr," sez I, for I loved the bhoy; "I wud +waltz wid you in that condishin through _Hell_, an' so wud the rest av +the men!" Thin I wint downshtrame in the flat an' left him my +blessin'. May the Saints carry ut where ut should go, for he was a +fine upstandin' young orficer. + +'To reshume. Fwhat I've said jist shows the use av three-year-olds. +Wud fifty seasoned sodgers have taken Lungtungpen in the dhark that +way? No! They'd know the risk av fever and chill. Let alone the +shootin'. Two hundher' might have done ut. But the three-year-olds +know little an' care less; an' where there's no fear, there's no +danger. Catch thim young, feed thim high, an' by the honour av that +great little man Bobs, behind a good orficer 'tisn't only dacoits +they'd smash wid their clo'es off--'tis Con-ti-nental Ar-r-r-mies! +They tuk Lungtungpen nakid; an' they'd take St. Pethersburg in their +dhrawers! Begad, they would that! + +'Here's your pipe, Sorr. Shmoke her tinderly wid honey-dew, afther +letting the reek av the Canteen plug die away. But 'tis no good, +thanks to you all the same, fillin' my pouch wid your chopped hay. +Canteen baccy's like the Army. It shpoils a man's taste for moilder +things.' + +So saying, Mulvaney took up his butterfly-net, and returned to +barracks. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS + + Oh! Where would I be when my froat was dry? + Oh! Where would I be when the bullets fly? + Oh! Where would I be when I come to die? + Why, + Somewheres anigh my chum. + If 'e's liquor 'e'll give me some, + If I'm dyin' 'e'll 'old my 'ead, + An' 'e'll write 'em 'Ome when I'm dead.-- + Gawd send us a trusty chum! + + _Barrack Room Ballad._ + + +My friends Mulvaney and Ortheris had gone on a shooting expedition for +one day. Learoyd was still in hospital, recovering from fever picked +up in Burma. They sent me an invitation to join them, and were +genuinely pained when I brought beer--almost enough beer to satisfy +two Privates of the Line--and Me. + +''Twasn't for that we bid you welkim, Sorr,' said Mulvaney sulkily. +''Twas for the pleasure av your comp'ny.' + +Ortheris came to the rescue with--'Well, 'e won't be none the worse +for bringin' liquor with 'im. We ain't a file o' Dooks. We're bloomin' +Tommies, ye cantankris Hirishman; an' 'ere's your very good 'ealth!' + +We shot all the forenoon, and killed two pariah-dogs, four green +parrots, sitting, one kite by the burning-ghaut, one snake flying, one +mud-turtle, and eight crows. Game was plentiful. Then we sat down to +tiffin--'bull-mate an' bran bread,' Mulvaney called it--by the side of +the river, and took pot shots at the crocodiles in the intervals of +cutting up the food with our only pocket-knife. Then we drank up all +the beer, and threw the bottles into the water and fired at them. +After that, we eased belts and stretched ourselves on the warm sand +and smoked. We were too lazy to continue shooting. + +Ortheris heaved a big sigh, as he lay on his stomach with his head +between his fists. Then he swore quietly into the blue sky. + +'Fwhat's that for?' said Mulvaney. 'Have ye not drunk enough?' + +'Tott'nim Court Road, an' a gal I fancied there. Wot's the good of +sodgerin'?' + +'Orth'ris, me son,' said Mulvaney hastily, ''tis more than likely +you've got throuble in your inside wid the beer. I feel that way +mesilf whin my liver gets rusty.' + + [Illustration: Ortheris heaved a big sigh.--P. 192.] + +Ortheris went on slowly, not heeding the interruption:-- + +'I'm a Tommy--a bloomin', eight-anna, dog-stealin' Tommy, with a +number instead of a decent name. Wot's the good o' me? If I 'ad a +stayed at 'Ome, I might a married that gal and a kep' a little shorp +in the 'Ammersmith 'Igh.--"S. Orth'ris, Prac-ti-cal Taxi-der-mist." +With a stuff' fox, like they 'as in the Haylesbury Dairies, in the +winder, an' a little case of blue and yaller glass-heyes, an' a little +wife to call "shorp!" "shorp!" when the door-bell rung. As it _his_, +I'm on'y a Tommy--a Bloomin' Gawd-forsaken Beer-swillin' Tommy. "Rest +on your harms--_'versed_. Stan' at--_hease_; _'shun_. 'Verse--_harms_. +Right an' lef'--_tarrn_. Slow--_march_. 'Alt--_front_. Rest on your +harms--_'versed_. With blank-cartridge--_load_." An' that's the end o' +me.' He was quoting fragments from Funeral Parties' Orders. + +'Stop ut!' shouted Mulvaney. 'Whin you've fired into nothin' as often +as me, over a better man than yoursilf, you will not make a mock av +thim orders. 'Tis worse than whistlin' the _Dead March_ in barricks. +An' you full as a tick, an' the sun cool, an' all an' all! I take +shame for you. You're no better than a Pagin--you an' your +firin'-parties an' your glass-eyes. Won't _you_ stop ut, Sorr?' + +What could I do? Could I tell Ortheris anything that he did not know +of the pleasures of his life? I was not a Chaplain nor a Subaltern, +and Ortheris had a right to speak as he thought fit. + +'Let him run, Mulvaney,' I said. 'It's the beer.' + +'No! 'Tisn't the beer,' said Mulvaney. 'I know fwhat's comin'. He's +tuk this way now an' agin, an' it's bad--it's bad--for I'm fond av the +bhoy.' + +Indeed, Mulvaney seemed needlessly anxious; but I knew that he looked +after Ortheris in a fatherly way. + +'Let me talk, let me talk,' said Ortheris dreamily. 'D'you stop your +parrit screamin' of a 'ot day when the cage is a-cookin' 'is pore +little pink toes orf, Mulvaney?' + +'Pink toes! D'ye mane to say you've pink toes undher your bullswools, +ye blandanderin','--Mulvaney gathered himself together for a terrific +denunciation--'school-misthress! Pink toes! How much Bass wid the +label did that ravin' child dhrink?' + +''Tain't Bass,' said Ortheris. 'It's a bitterer beer nor that. It's +'ome-sickness!' + +'Hark to him! An' he goin' Home in the _Sherapis_ in the inside av +four months!' + +'I don't care. It's all one to me. 'Ow d'you know I ain't 'fraid o' +dyin' 'fore I gets my discharge paipers?' He recommenced, in a +sing-song voice, the Orders. + +I had never seen this side of Ortheris's character before, but +evidently Mulvaney had, and attached serious importance to it. While +Ortheris babbled, with his head on his arms, Mulvaney whispered to +me:-- + +'He's always tuk this way whin he's been checked overmuch by the +childher they make Sarjints nowadays. That an' havin' nothin' to do. I +can't make ut out anyways.' + +'Well, what does it matter? Let him talk himself through.' + +Ortheris began singing a parody of _The Ramrod Corps_, full of +cheerful allusions to battle, murder, and sudden death. He looked out +across the river as he sang; and his face was quite strange to me. +Mulvaney caught me by the elbow to ensure attention. + +'Matther? It matthers everything! 'Tis some sort av fit that's on him. +I've seen ut. 'Twill hould him all this night, an' in the middle av it +he'll get out av his cot an' go rakin' in the rack for his +'courtremints. Thin he'll come over to me an' say, "I'm goin' to +Bombay. Answer for me in the mornin'." Thin me an' him will fight as +we've done before--him to go an' me to hould him--an' so we'll both +come on the books for disturbin' in barricks. I've belted him, an' +I've bruk his head, an' I've talked to him, but 'tis no manner av use +whin the fit's on him. He's as good a bhoy as ever stepped whin his +mind's clear. I know fwhat's comin', though, this night in barricks. +Lord send he doesn't loose on me whin I rise to knock him down. 'Tis +that that's in my mind day an' night.' + +This put the case in a much less pleasant light, and fully accounted +for Mulvaney's anxiety. He seemed to be trying to coax Ortheris out of +the fit; for he shouted down the bank where the boy was lying:-- + +'Listen now, you wid the "pore pink toes" an' the glass-eyes! Did you +shwim the Irriwaddy at night, behin' me, as a bhoy shud; or were you +hidin' under a bed, as you was at Ahmid Kheyl?' + +This was at once a gross insult and a direct lie, and Mulvaney meant +it to bring on a fight. But Ortheris seemed shut up in some sort of +trance. He answered slowly, without a sign of irritation, in the same +cadenced voice as he had used for his firing-party orders:-- + +'_Hi_ swum the Irriwaddy in the night, as you know, for to take the +town of Lungtungpen, nakid an' without fear. _Hand_ where I was at +Ahmed Kheyl you know, and four bloomin' Paythans know too. But that +was summat to do, an' I didn't think o' dyin'. Now I'm sick to go +'Ome--go 'Ome--go 'Ome! No, I ain't mammysick, because my uncle brung +me up, but I'm sick for London again; sick for the sounds of 'er, an' +the sights of 'er, and the stinks of 'er; orange-peel and hasphalte +an' gas comin' in over Vaux'all Bridge. Sick for the rail goin' down +to Box 'Ill, with your gal on your knee an' a new clay pipe in your +face. That, an' the Stran' lights where you knows ev'ry one, an' the +Copper that takes you up is a old friend that tuk you up before, when +you was a little, smitchy boy lying loose 'tween the Temple an' the +Dark Harches. No bloomin' guard-mountin', no bloomin' rotten-stone, +nor khaki, an' yourself your own master with a gal to take an' see the +Humaners practisin' a-hookin' dead corpses out of the Serpentine o' +Sundays. An' I lef' all that for to serve the Widder beyond the seas, +where there ain't no women and there ain't no liquor worth 'avin', and +there ain't nothin' to see, nor do, nor say, nor feel, nor think. Lord +love you, Stanley Orth'ris, but you're a bigger bloomin' fool than the +rest o' the reg'ment and Mulvaney wired together! There's the Widder +sittin' at 'Ome with a gold crownd on 'er 'ead; and 'ere am Hi, +Stanley Orth'ris, the Widder's property, a rottin' FOOL!' + +His voice rose at the end of the sentence, and he wound up with a +six-shot Anglo-Vernacular oath. Mulvaney said nothing, but looked at +me as if he expected that I could bring peace to poor Ortheris's +troubled brain. + +I remembered once at Rawal Pindi having seen a man, nearly mad with +drink, sobered by being made a fool of. Some regiments may know what I +mean. I hoped that we might slake off Ortheris in the same way, though +he was perfectly sober. So I said:-- + +'What's the use of grousing there, and speaking against The Widow?' + +'I didn't!' said Ortheris. 'S'elp me, Gawd, I never said a word agin +'er, an' I wouldn't--not if I was to desert this minute!' + +Here was my opening. 'Well, you meant to, anyhow. What's the use of +cracking-on for nothing? Would you slip it now if you got the chance?' + +'On'y try me!' said Ortheris, jumping to his feet as if he had been +stung. + +Mulvaney jumped too. 'Fwhat are you going to do?' said he. + +'Help Ortheris down to Bombay or Karachi, whichever he likes. You can +report that he separated from you before tiffin, and left his gun on +the bank here!' + +'I'm to report that--am I?' said Mulvaney slowly. 'Very well. If +Orth'ris manes to desert now, and will desert now, an' you, Sorr, who +have been a frind to me an' to him, will help him to ut, I, Terence +Mulvaney, on my oath which I've never bruk yet, will report as you +say. But----' here he stepped up to Ortheris, and shook the stock of +the fowling-piece in his face--'your fistes help you, Stanley +Orth'ris, if ever I come across you agin!' + +'I don't care!' said Ortheris. 'I'm sick o' this dorg's life. Give me +a chanst. Don't play with me. Le' me go!' + +'Strip,' said I, 'and change with me, and then I'll tell you what to +do.' + +I hoped that the absurdity of this would check Ortheris; but he had +kicked off his ammunition-boots and got rid of his tunic almost before +I had loosed my shirt-collar. Mulvaney gripped me by the arm:-- + +'The fit's on him: the fit's workin' on him still! By my Honour and +Sowl, we shall be accessiry to a desartion yet. Only twenty-eight +days, as you say, Sorr, or fifty-six, but think o' the shame--the +black shame to him an' me!' I had never seen Mulvaney so excited. + +But Ortheris was quite calm, and, as soon as he had exchanged clothes +with me, and I stood up a Private of the Line, he said shortly, 'Now! +Come on. What nex'? D'ye mean fair. What must I do to get out o' this +'ere a-Hell?' + +I told him that, if he would wait for two or three hours near the +river, I would ride into the Station and come back with one hundred +rupees. He would, with that money in his pocket, walk to the nearest +side-station on the line, about five miles away, and would there take +a first-class ticket for Karachi. Knowing that he had no money on him +when he went out shooting, his regiment would not immediately wire to +the seaports, but would hunt for him in the native villages near the +river. Further, no one would think of seeking a deserter in a +first-class carriage. At Karachi, he was to buy white clothes and +ship, if he could, on a cargo-steamer. + +Here he broke in. If I helped him to Karachi, he would arrange all the +rest. Then I ordered him to wait where he was until it was dark enough +for me to ride into the station without my dress being noticed. Now +God in His wisdom has made the heart of the British Soldier, who is +very often an unlicked ruffian, as soft as the heart of a little +child, in order that he may believe in and follow his officers into +tight and nasty places. He does not so readily come to believe in a +'civilian,' but, when he does, he believes implicitly and like a dog. +I had had the honour of the friendship of Private Ortheris, at +intervals, for more than three years, and we had dealt with each other +as man by man. Consequently, he considered that all my words were +true, and not spoken lightly. + +Mulvaney and I left him in the high grass near the river-bank, and +went away, still keeping to the high grass, towards my horse. The +shirt scratched me horribly. + + [Illustration: We set off at the double and found him plunging + about wildly through the grass.--P. 201.] + +We waited nearly two hours for the dusk to fall and allow me to ride +off. We spoke of Ortheris in whispers, and strained our ears to catch +any sound from the spot where we had left him. But we heard nothing +except the wind in the plume-grass. + +'I've bruk his head,' said Mulvaney earnestly, 'time an' agin. I've +nearly kilt him wid the belt, an' _yet_ I can't knock thim fits out av +his soft head. No! An' he's not soft, for he's reasonable an' likely +by natur'. Fwhat is ut? Is ut his breedin' which is nothin', or his +edukashin which he niver got? You that think ye know things, answer me +that.' + +But I found no answer. I was wondering how long Ortheris, in the bank +of the river, would hold out, and whether I should be forced to help +him to desert, as I had given my word. + +Just as the dusk shut down and, with a very heavy heart, I was +beginning to saddle up my horse, we heard wild shouts from the river. + +The devils had departed from Private Stanley Ortheris, No. 22639, B +company. The loneliness, the dusk, and the waiting had driven them out +as I had hoped. We set off at the double and found him plunging about +wildly through the grass, with his coat off--my coat off, I mean. He +was calling for us like a madman. + +When we reached him he was dripping with perspiration, and trembling +like a startled horse. We had great difficulty in soothing him. He +complained that he was in civilian kit, and wanted to tear my clothes +off his body. I ordered him to strip, and we made a second exchange as +quickly as possible. + +The rasp of his own 'grayback' shirt and the squeak of his boots +seemed to bring him to himself. He put his hands before his eyes and +said:-- + +'Wot was it? I ain't mad, I ain't sunstrook, an' I've bin an' gone an' +said, an' bin an' gone an' done---- _Wot_ 'ave I bin an' done!' + +'Fwhat have you done?' said Mulvaney. 'You've dishgraced +yourself--though that's no matter. You've dishgraced B comp'ny, an' +worst av all, you've dishgraced _Me_! Me that taught you how for to +walk abroad like a man--whin you was a dhirty little, fish-backed +little, whimperin' little recruity. As you are now, Stanley Orth'ris!' + +Ortheris said nothing for a while. Then he unslung his belt, heavy +with the badges of half-a-dozen regiments that his own had lain with, +and handed it over to Mulvaney. + +'I'm too little for to mill you, Mulvaney,' said he, 'an' you've +strook me before; but you can take an' cut me in two with this 'ere if +you like.' + +Mulvaney turned to me. + +'Lave me to talk to him, Sorr,' said Mulvaney. + +I left, and on my way home thought a good deal over Ortheris in +particular, and my friend Private Thomas Atkins, whom I love, in +general. + +But I could not come to any conclusion of any kind whatever. + + + +THE END + + + + + NEW UNIFORM EDITION OF THE STORIES AND POEMS OF RUDYARD + KIPLING. Seven volumes, 12mo, cloth. + + PLAIN TALES FROM THE HILLS. + + New Edition. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + "Mr. Kipling knows and appreciates the English in India, and + is a born storyteller and a man of humour into the bargain.... + It would be hard to find better reading."--_The Saturday + Review, London._ + + + THE LIGHT THAT FAILED. + + New Edition. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + "'The Light that Failed' is an organic whole--a book with a + backbone--and stands out boldly among the nerveless, flaccid, + invertebrate things that enjoy an expensive but ephemeral + existence in the circulating libraries."--_The Athenaeum._ + + + LIFE'S HANDICAP. + + STORIES OF MINE OWN PEOPLE. + + New Edition. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + "No volume of his yet published gives a better illustration of + his genius, and of the weird charm which has given his stories + such deserved popularity."--_Boston Daily Traveler._ + + + THE NAULAHKA. + + A Story of East and West. + + By RUDYARD KIPLING and WOLCOTT BALESTIER. + + 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + "What is the most surprising, and at the same time most + admirable, in this book, is the manner in which Mr. Kipling + seems to grasp the character of the native women; we know of + nothing in the English language of its kind to compare with + Chapter XX. in its delicacy and genuine sympathy." + + + UNDER THE DEODARS, THE PHANTOM 'RICKSHAW, AND WEE WILLIE + WINKIE. + + With additional matter, now published for the first time. + 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + + SOLDIERS THREE, THE STORY OF THE GADSBYS, and BLACK AND WHITE. + + Also together with additional matter. + + 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + + BALLADS AND BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS. + + 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + + "Mr. Kipling differs from other ballad-writers of the day in + that he has that rare possession, imagination, and he has the + temerity to speak out what is in him with no conventional + reservations or deference to the hypocrisies of public + opinion."--_Boston Beacon._ + + +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, +66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. + + + + + WORKS BY ROLF BOLDREWOOD. + + ROBBERY UNDER ARMS. + + New Edition. 12mo. Cloth. $1.25. + + "We have nothing but praise for this story. Of adventure of + the most stirring kind there is, as we have said, abundance. + But there is more than this. The characters are drawn with + great skill. This is a book of no common literary + force."--_Spectator._ + + + THE MINER'S RIGHT. + + A TALE OF THE AUSTRALIAN GOLD FIELDS. + + 12mo. Cloth. $1.25. + + "Full of good passages, passages abounding in vivacity, in the + color and play of lif.... The pith of the book lies in its + singularly fresh and vivid pictures of the humors of the + gold-fields; tragic humors enough they are too."--_World._ + + + THE SQUATTER'S DREAM. + + 12mo. Cloth. $1.25. + + "A story of Australian life, told with directness and force. + The author's mastery of his subjects adds much to the + impressiveness of the story, which no doubt might be told as + literally true of hundreds of restless and ambitious young + Australians."--_N.Y. Tribune._ + + + A COLONIAL REFORMER. + + 12mo. 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