An English Girl's First Impressions of Burmah Part 13

A tiger was the first visitor; he killed two ponies in the stable of a neighbour. Then a black panther commenced to parade, nightly, the road between our house and the club. He snapped up a little terrier which was trotting along at its master's heels one evening; he was reported to have been seen many times about dusk, slinking along by the road side, and one man broke a record on his bicycle, followed by an innocent and admiring pariah dog which he mistook for the panther. There is no doubt that the panther really did for a time haunt the road, but he was so useful as an excuse for the men to stay late at the club till they could get a lift down in someone else's dog-cart (an excuse that appeared quite convincing to their nervous wives) that he almost became an inst.i.tution.

From the first I distinctly disliked jackals. My bedroom window opened upon the back veranda, and one night I was awakened by a noise, and looking out I saw two of these beasts (I did not know at the time what they were) walking softly up and down devouring some food which the loogalays had left there.

For some time I watched them, fascinated by these shadowy dark forms creeping about in the moonlight. Then, remembering that the back door was unfastened, that I was most probably the first person they would encounter should they enter, and that I had promised faithfully to return to England in six months, I thought it time to rouse my brother-in-law.

Accordingly, I crept from my room, wakened him and my sister, and told them to get up, to bring their guns, and follow me, as the back veranda was full of wild animals, who might at any moment break into the house.

They were both singularly uninterested in my information (indeed my brother only sleepily murmured "let them break" and went to sleep again) but I insisted, and at last he rose in a very bad temper and came to inquire into the cause of my alarm.

Of course, the noise he made tumbling about and opening the door scared our visitors, and when he went out, the veranda was empty. A few scathing remarks about my powers of imagination were all the thanks I received for thus saving the lives of the family. Ingrat.i.tude, thy name is brother-in-law!

After that my visitors came frequently, but I felt that I would rather die than risk more sarcasm, and when I found they had no evil intentions I grew rather to enjoy watching them. Their marvellous quickness, their caution, and the silence of their movements seemed to give a faint suggestion of what jungle life must be, though, of course, the jackal compared with the n.o.bler animals, is no more than "Jacala, the belly that runs on four feet."

After a while, our visitors were inspired to show their grat.i.tude by nightly serenades. Grat.i.tude is always delightful to meet with in man or beast, but I wished their's had taken some other form. A jackal's voice is powerful but unpleasant, and has a mournful effect upon the nerves.

Of dead beasts I saw many. The jungle round Remyo seemed to be a perfect menagerie, and a n.o.ble panther, tiger or bear was often borne in triumph into the station and deposited in the centre of the Club compound, to be admired of all beholders.

When no time could be spared for an organised shoot, a reward would be offered for the carcase of any panther or cheetah which might have been annoying a neighbouring jungle village, and the animal, when killed, was always brought in to be shown to my brother by the claimants of the reward. It was a little startling at first to have bears, panthers, etc., casually brought and deposited at one's front door, but we grew accustomed to it after a while, as one grows accustomed to all things but hanging. On one occasion some natives brought in the body of a huge leopard which had killed and eaten a man near their village (a most unusual proceeding for a leopard), and a terrible looking animal it was, with huge claws and teeth, and a sneaking deceitful face. The whole incident was disagreeably gruesome.

On another occasion we were presented with two live bear cubs, whose parents had been killed. They were dear little fluffy brown creatures, and we longed to keep them, but they generally become a great nuisance when older, as they are always treacherous, and capable any day of trotting into the village and killing half a dozen people as a morning's amus.e.m.e.nt.

I was strangely lucky (or unlucky, I hardly know which to call it) in the matter of snakes, for I did not see a single live snake during my visit. I constantly expected to meet one in the compound or jungle, but I never even found one coming up the water-hole in the bath-room, or coiled up in my bed. The creatures never came near me, even though I spread out the skin of a huge rock snake in the compound, in the hopes that its relations (as is invariably the custom with snakes in books) might be induced to a.s.semble.

The most wise looking creatures (always excepting the elephants) which I saw were the Burmese bullocks. Their grave, thoughtful, placid faces reminded me of the images of Gaudama. As they crawl along their way drawing the creaking bullock carts to the bazaar, or trot merrily through the jungle, taking gaily-attired Burmans to attend a Pwe, they have ever the same patient, quiet, abstracted expression, as though this menial work is to them a mere appendage to the deeper life of meditation. This is what their expression conveys to me; some think it denotes stupidity.

The cattle belonging to the Burmese appear to be most independent animals. Each morning they wander away into the jungle at their own sweet wills, returning at night of their own accord for the milking. We were much astonished one day, when, in answer to our request that the milk might be brought earlier in future, the milkman replied with much "shekkohing" and humility that it could not be, as the cow did not wish to return earlier from her walk. The Burmans are very casual in their treatment and care of the cattle, numbers of which fall victims to tigers and other rapacious beasts.

This chapter would not be complete without a word or two about the Burmese ponies; but who am I, who never could make head or tail of any pony's propensities, to presume to describe their character? Very small and wiry are they, very devoted to polo (which they understand quite as well as their masters, and which they play with the same keenness); conceited and obstinate; but obedient and affectionate to their masters, and possessing as great a love of a joke as a Burman himself.

One of our ponies, "Pearl," a lovely little animal, and a splendid polo player, possessed all these characteristics. With her master or mistress she was as gentle and submissive as anyone could desire, but she a.s.sumed the most unpardonable airs towards all the rest of the world. She received caresses and attentions with a haughty disdain, turned up her nose at any but the very best food, and led her poor sais a most trying time. I admired her from afar, but we never became intimate; she evidently despised me, and had the most disagreeable knack of making me feel ignorant and small. She was too much of a lady to show her dislike by kicks or snaps, and treated an enemy with scornful indifference until he attempted to ride her, when (to use a modern colloquialism) she soon managed to get a bit of her own back.

"Stunsail", another of our ponies, was a good old soul, of worthy character but worthless value. He had missed his vocation in life, for he ought most certainly to have been a circus pony. He was full of tricks, not frolicsome or spontaneous ones, but tricks carefully acquired by long hours of practice, such as bowing to ladies, salaaming for bananas, and lying down, pretending to be dead. It was nice of him to have taken the trouble to acquire these accomplishments, but his fondness for displaying them at all times was often very disturbing to his rider.

Our third pony "John" we always thought a quiet, easy-going individual, until we lent him to a lady who was paying a short visit to Remyo. She was not an accomplished horse-woman, but would not for the world have confessed to the fact, for she liked to pose as quite fearless, and devoted to riding.

"John's" strong sense of humour first became apparent in his treatment of her. He soon gauged the extent of the lady's equestrian powers, and enjoyed himself immensely. He did not unseat her or bolt with her: his humour was of a much finer quality; he merely consistently refused to do anything she wished. When she intended a short ride, "John" would keep her out for hours; when she was prepared for an afternoon's expedition, "John" would bring her home after a half-mile canter. If she announced her wish to visit her friends at the far side of the station, "John"

would take her for a gallop through the jungle; when she donned her oldest habit to go a quiet country ride "John" would insist upon her calling upon her smartest neighbours, and would walk up to the front door and stand there until she was obliged to dismount and enter.

There was no limit to the mischievous devilry of that pony. When poor Mrs. F. rode out with the rest of the station, her troubles were even greater. When her companions suggested a gallop, "John" wilfully a.s.sumed his slowest walk; and when everyone was riding slowly and conversing pleasantly together, the poor lady would suddenly, without any apparent reason, break off in the middle of a sentence, and set off at the wildest gallop through the jungle, or turn round and ride furiously for home. Nothing would induce her to confess that she could not manage her pony, so she was obliged to invent the wildest excuses and explanations for her conduct. Others thought it was her eccentricity, but we knew it was "John."

CHAPTER XI.

SPORT.

In Burmah the Tiger story takes the place occupied by the fish story in this country, and is stamped, I suspect, with the same unblushing characteristics. Judging from the tiger stories I heard, I could come to no other conclusion than that the Anglo-Indian is possessed of amazing nerve and ingenuity (qualities useful to him alike in the exploit and in the telling of it), and I heard him with ever increasing interest and wonder. The tiger is the favourite theme, though he is but of small account whose chronicle does not also embrace some experiences in the pursuit of the elephant, the bear and other fearful wildfowl indigenous to the country.

Most men own to being a little chary about elephant hunting I found, but our friend the Policeman appeared to have shot them like snipe. At first I was rather inclined to make light of elephant shooting, they are such exceedingly large animals that I thought even I could hardly fail to bag one if I got him broadside on; but the Policeman set me right on that point.

From his explanation, I gathered that the elephant is invulnerable save only in one vital part, a spot behind the ear, and the sportsman (according to my narrator) must be as dead on that spot as "h.o.m.ocea."

My informant also told me terrible stories of how the elephant will turn on his pursuer and trample on him, or tear him in pieces with his tusks, and he gave me further such blood-curdling descriptions of the terrifying noise made by an approaching herd of elephants crashing through the jungle, and trumpeting in their rage, that I felt devoutly thankful that I was visiting this particular district. The wild elephants of the neighbouring jungle, in their almost human intelligence, recognised the danger to themselves of conduct other than the most retiring and unprovocative character in a locality where the peace was preserved by such an ever threatening Nemesis as our Policeman.

Bears, too, our Policeman had frequently hunted, and many a hair-breadth escape had he effected by running up hill (bears cannot run up hill, you know), or swinging from tree to tree and performing other acrobatic feats which the bear was too heavy to attempt with success.

On one occasion, he said he had been overtaken by the bear, and his left arm chawed in fourteen places (I forget why the bear couldn't be content with one spot and how he protected himself from the animal's further attentions); but he didn't mind the bear so much as the well meant efforts of his companion, who, the hero of the episode complained, stood afar off and poured in a devastating fire, directed in a distracted and indiscriminate manner at him and the bear alike. Many and varied indeed were the dangers through which this seemingly fearless hunter had pa.s.sed unscathed.

Several tigers visited the neighbourhood during my visit, and caused great excitement among the men at the Club, who thought nothing of sitting up all night in an uncomfortable tree, over an unsightly "kill,"

in hope of compa.s.sing the animal's undoing.

Often, alas! they were doomed to disappointment. On one occasion when my brother and a friend were awaiting a tiger's approach, a mist gathered round them, effectually obscuring everything from their sight. So there they were, obliged, perforce, to sit in darkness, not daring to descend, and of course unable to see, and cheered by listening to the tiger comfortably devouring its prey, within a few yards of their ambush. The Engineer, when he heard this story was for patenting an electric flash light, which could be turned on to light the Sportsman when the tiger was comfortably settled down to his meal, but this original suggestion was ungratefully rejected, much to his disappointment.

But one afternoon the Thugyi brought in word that a large tiger had been marked down in the neighbouring jungle, and a beat was arranged for the following day. Then it was that the Policeman earned our undying grat.i.tude by proposing that we ladies, who had been behaving of late in an exemplary manner, should, for once, be allowed to accompany the Sportsmen, to see the great sight of our lives, a tiger shoot.

I doubt whether the suggestion met with the entire approbation of the other males, but as the Policeman was organising the beat, and as we all promised to be very good and obedient, they agreed reluctantly to take us. Women, perhaps naturally, are considered very much "de trop" on these occasions. A tiger shoot is a serious, sometimes a dangerous business, and female frivolities and nerves would decidedly be embarra.s.sments.

I heard a story of a girl, reputed to be a great Sportswoman and a good shot, who accompanied her male friends upon one of these expeditions.

Platforms had been built for the Sportsmen in the trees in the line of the beat, and she shared one with a man who was more accustomed to shooting and hunting than to the society of the other s.e.x, whom he held in much greater awe than any wild animal, however dangerous. When the tiger made its appearance, the girl promptly fainted, and her poor companion spent a most unhappy ten minutes between the unconscious girl and the enraged tiger, being far more alarmed at the former.

However, to return to my story, when we had given a.s.surances that we never fainted, nor had hysterics, nor grew tired; and had promised faithfully not to move a muscle, not to speak a single word, not to disobey an order, and above all not to want to shoot, the men folk graciously allowed us to accompany them; but it was not to create a precedent.

How excited we were and how nervous! A seat in a tree did not appear to me to offer much security against the tiger's attack, however high it might be. Tigers, I had always been told, are near relations to cats, and I knew cats climb trees. When I nervously breathed these doubts to the Policeman, he solemnly a.s.sured me that tigers will not climb, and by standing on their hind legs can only reach up about fourteen feet; but this did not convince me, for had I not seen in my nursery days (and early impressions are lasting ones) brilliantly coloured pictures of tiger shoots wherein the tiger was invariably depicted, leaping into the air, or climbing fiercely up the side of an elephant, while the nervous occupant of the howdah peered cautiously over the edge? Was I to ignore the lessons of my youth? I can only explain this inconsistency by suggesting that tigers may have changed their habits with the advance of civilization.

Nothing was talked of that evening but tigers and tiger shooting. The Policeman and other local sportsmen were in great request, and their stories were listened to with an interest and belief which I should think quite astonished them. Even to the village did the excitement spread, for the love of sport is as prevalent among the Burmans as among Englishmen; and the natives are well paid for serving as beaters.

Early in the morning the hunting party a.s.sembled in our compound, and, after partaking of a cheery "chota hazri," we set out, a merry cavalcade consisting of seven men, and three women, and accompanied by a miscellaneous collection of servants and native "shikarries."

It was one of those fresh, cool, delicious mornings that make one feel inclined to sing with Pippa:

"The morning's at seven, The hillside's dew pearled."

"G.o.d's in His Heaven, all's well with the World."

In spite of qualms regarding the ordeal before us, we enjoyed that early ride, and were a very happy, hungry crew when we arrived at the jungle village whither breakfast had already been despatched. We found everything ready, prepared by the Club Khansamah, and his staff of silent, well-trained loogalays, and we breakfasted in the "hpoongyi kyaung" itself, surrounded by images of Gaudama, by sacred pictures and bells; shaded by lovely groups of bamboos, and watched from afar by an interested crowd of young Burmans, whose shaven heads and yellow robes showed them to be the hpoongyi's pupils.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A HPOONGYI KYAUNG MONASTERY]

But we were not allowed to linger too long in idleness, discussing the merits of "the chicken and ham, the m.u.f.fin and toast, and the strawberry jam," to say nothing of luscious pineapples, incomparable bananas (differing as much from the banana we meet in England, as chalk from cheese), the much vaunted mangostines, the objectionable (from my way of thinking) custard apple, and the hundred, other delicacies which our generous hosts had provided for our delectation. I had scarcely exchanged three words with the pineapples, and had only a bowing acquaintance with the plum cake, when the doughty Policeman gave the word to start.

It was really extraordinary how the presence of danger and responsibility affected the bearing of our Policeman. The change came on quite suddenly, in the middle of breakfast, and was maintained till evening. He was transformed from a jovial, talkative personage, to one sombre and morose, refusing to utter a word more than was absolutely necessary, greeting all observations with a discouraging frown or a shake of the head, and, in all his movements and actions displaying the impressive characteristics of "Hawkeye," and other Indian Hunter friends of one's youth. We ladies were immensely impressed, and did our best to imitate his severe expression and noiseless, stalking gait, as closely as possible. Perhaps we presented rather a weird appearance, stealing along with hara.s.sed, stern set faces, and cautious steps, like stage pirates, but concluding that it was the proper role to adopt on such an occasion we adopted it.

Outside the kyaung we met the beaters; a picturesque group in their bright coloured dresses, armed with sticks, cans, whistles, and everything sufficiently noisy to rouse "Shere Khan" from his noonday sleep. These beaters were despatched, under the direction of a native "shikarrie," to commence their work about half-a-mile to the westward, while we went to take up our position to the east of the rumoured position of the tiger.

By this time the sun was up, and it was becoming very hot. For about half an hour we stole along in single file through the jungle. Half the men went before us to part the tangled bushes, the remainder brought up the rear, lest one of us should be lost; a possible and very unpleasant prospect in jungle so thick that it is impossible to see a yard around.

We were very silent, partly from excitement, partly because silence was advisable; for who could tell what sleeping inhabitant of the jungle we might pa.s.s within a few yards.