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Chapter 6: Among Friends.
 "It certainly seems to me," Stanley said, when he heard the Burman's account of the state of things below, "that it will not be possible for us to go any further, by water."  
"It would be very dangerous," Meinik said. "It is certain that all the men in this part of the country have been obliged to go with the army and, even were we both natives, and had no special reason for avoiding being questioned, we should be liable to be seized and executed at once, for having disregarded the orders to join the army. Assuredly we cannot pass down farther in our boat, but must take to the land. I should say that we had best get spears and shields, and join some newly-arrived party."
 
"But you forget that, though my disguise as a native is good enough to mislead anyone passing us on the road, or in the dusk after sunset, I should certainly attract attention if travelling with them, by day."
 
"I forgot that. I have grown so accustomed to seeing you that I forget that, to other people, your face would seem strange; as it at first did to me, in the forest. Indeed you look to me now like one of ourselves; but were we to join a band, someone would be sure to ask questions concerning you, ere long. What, then, do you think we had best do?"
 
"From what I heard of the country from one of your comrades, who is a native of this province, it would be impossible for us, after crossing the river, to make our way down on the opposite side, since the whole country is swampy and cut up by branches of the Irrawaddy. On this side there are few obstacles of that kind but, on the other hand, we shall find the country full of troops going down towards Rangoon. Your comrade told me that the hills that we saw to the east, from the forest at Ava, extended right down into Tenasserim; and were very high, and could not be traversed, for that no food could be obtained, and that tigers and wild animals and other beasts abounded. But he said that the smaller hills that we crossed on the way to your village--which he called the Pegu Yoma hills--some of whose swells come down to the bank, extend all the way down to the sea between the Irrawaddy and the Sittang rivers; and that, from them, streams flowed to one river or the other. Therefore, if we could gain that range, we should avoid the swamp country, altogether.
 
"A few miles back we passed a river coming in from the east and, if we follow that up as far as there is water, we shall be among the hills. He said that there were no mountains at all, there; but just rounded hills, with many villages and much cultivated ground, so there ought to be no difficulty in making our way along. We shall be able to gather food in the fields; or can go into villages and purchase some, for the men will all be away. Besides, we can get spears and shields, and can say that having been away from home on a journey--when the men were all ordered to war, we returned too late to go with the rest of the villagers, and are making our way down to join them. Many others must be doing the same, and the story will be likely enough.
 
"In that way we can get down till we are close to the troops round Rangoon, and must then take our chance of getting through them."
 
"That seems better than the other way," Meinik said. "There is such a river as you speak of, above Sarawa. We can paddle back tonight, and hide near the town; then I can go there in the morning, and buy a couple of spears and shields, and get some more rice and other things. We have plenty of ammunition for our guns; which we may want, if we meet any wild beasts."
 
"You don't think that there will be any danger in your going in there, Meinik? Of course, there is no absolute occasion for us to have spears and shields, as we have guns."
 
"We ought to have shields," Meinik replied, "and it were better to have spears too, and also for us to carry axes--everyone carries an axe in war time, for we always erect stockades and, though a very poor man may only have his knife, everyone who can afford it takes an axe. Most people have such a thing, for it is wanted for cutting firewood, for clearing the ground, for building houses, and for many other things; and a Burman must be poor, indeed, who does not own one."
 
"By all means, then, get them for us, Meinik; besides, we may find them useful for ourselves."
 
They now lay down and slept until evening; and then started up the river again, keeping close in under shadow of the bank and, two hours before daylight, concealed the canoe as usual, at a spot two miles above Sarawa. Meinik started at daybreak, and returned three hours later with two axes, spears, and shields.
 
That night they turned into the river running to the east and, for four nights, paddled up it. The country was now assuming a different character, and the stream was running in a valley with rising ground--from a hundred to a hundred and fifty feet high--on each side, and was narrowing very fast. Towards morning on the fifth day the river had become a small stream, of but two or three feet deep; and they decided to leave the boat, as it was evident that they would be able to go but a short distance further.
 
"We may as well hide her carefully," Stanley said. "It is certainly not likely that we shall want her again, but there is never any saying and, at any rate, there is no great trouble in doing it."
 
They cooked a meal and then started at once, so as to do a few hours' walking before the sun became high. They determined to keep on eastward, until they reached the highest point of the dividing ridge between the two main rivers, and then to follow it southward. The country was now well cultivated, and they had some trouble in avoiding the small villages dotted thickly about, as the course they were following was not the one they would take if making straight to join the army. They slept for three or four hours in the heat of the day; and then, pushing on, found themselves before sunset on what seemed to them the highest point of the divide. To the right they could see the flat country stretching towards the Irrawaddy, to the left the ground was more sharply undulating. Two miles away was a stream of fair size, which they judged to be the river that runs down to Pegu, and afterwards joins the Rangoon river below the town.
 
Stanley thought that the hill on which they stood was some five hundred feet above the low country they had left. A great part of the hills was covered with trees although, at the point where they had made their way up, the hillside was bare. They went on until they entered the forest, and there set to work to chop firewood. Meinik carried a tinderbox, and soon had a fire blazing, and by its side they piled a great stock of wood.
 
"I do not know that there are any leopards so far south as this," he said, "but at any rate it will be safer to keep a big fire blazing. I never used to think much about leopards but, ever since I had that great beast's foot upon my back, I have had a horror of them."
 
The next morning they continued their journey south, going along boldly and passing through several villages.
 
"You are late for the war," an old man said, as they went through one of them.
 
"I know we are," Meinik replied, "but we were away with a caravan of traders when the order came; and so, instead of going down the river, we have had to journey on foot. But we shall be there in time. From what we have heard, there has not been much fighting, yet."
 
"No; the white barbarians are all shut up in Rangoon. We have not attacked them in earnest, but we shall soon do so and, moreover, they will soon be all starved, for the country has been swept clear of all cattle for twenty miles round, the villages deserted, and everything laid waste; and we hear that half their number are laid up with sickness, and that a great number have died. I wish that I were younger, that I, too, could help to destroy the insolent foes who have dared to set foot on our sacred soil."
 
There was no need for haste, now, and they travelled by easy stages until, by the smoke rising from different parts of the forest, they knew that they were approaching the spot where the Burmese forces lay around Rangoon and, indeed, could see the great pagoda rising above the surrounding country. They had heard, at the last villages through which they had passed, that there had been an attack made upon the pagoda on the 1st of July. On that day the Burmese, in great force, had moved down in a line parallel to the road between the pagoda and the town, along which a considerable number of our troops were encamped. They had advanced until within half a mile of Rangoon, then had changed front and attacked the British position near the town. They occupied a hill near our line, and opened fire from there with jingals and small cannon; but two British guns firing grape soon silenced their guns, and a Madras regiment charged the hill and recaptured it.
 
This entirely upset the plan of the Wongee in command of the Burmese. The signal for the whole of the army to attack was to have been given, as soon as their left had broken through the British line, and had thus cut off all the troops on the road leading to the pagoda from the town. Seeing that this movement had failed, the general did not give the signal for the general attack, but ordered the troops to fall back. He had been recalled in disgrace to Ava; and a senior officer, who arrived just after the battle, assumed the command. He at once set to work to make a very strong stockade at Kummeroot, five miles from the great pagoda; and also fortified a point on the river above Kemmendine--the stockade that had been captured by the British--and intended from this point to send down fire rafts to destroy the British shipping and, at the same time, made continuous attacks at night on the British lines.
 
The rains at this time were falling incessantly, and the Burmese did not think that the British would be able to move out against them. The position on the river was connected with that at Kummeroot by strong stockades; and the Burmese general was convinced that, if an attack was made, it could be easily defeated. However, eight days after the repulse of the Burmese first attack, the vessels came up the river, while a land column moved against Kummeroot.
 
The position was a strong one. The river was here divided into two branches and, on the point of land between these, the principal stockade was erected and was well provided with artillery; while on the opposite banks of both rivers other stockades with guns were erected, so that any attack by water would be met by the direct fire from the great stockade, and a cross fire from those on the banks.
 
Four ships came up, and the Burmese guns opened upon them, but the heavy fire from the men-of-war was not long in silencing them; and then a number of boats full of troops had landed, and stormed the stockade, and driven out the Burmese. The land column had been unable to take guns with them, owing to the impossibility of dragging them along the rain-sodden paths; and the Burmese chiefs, confident in the strength of their principal post--which was defended by three lines of strong stockades, one above another--and in their immensely superior force, treated with absolute contempt the advance of the little British column--of which they were informed, as soon as it started, by their scouts thickly scattered through the woods.
 
The general, Soomba Wongee, was just sitting down to dinner when he was told that the column had nearly reached the first stockade. He directed his chiefs to proceed to their posts and "drive the audacious strangers away," and continued his meal until the heavy and rapid musketry of the assailants convinced him that the matter was more serious than he had expected. As a rule, the Burmese generals do not take any active part in their battles; but Soomba Wongee left his tent and at once went towards the point attacked. He found his troops already retreating, and that the two outer stockades had been carried by the enemy. He rallied his men, and himself led the way to the attack; but the steady and continuous fire of the British rendered it impossible for him to restore order, and the Burmese remained crowded together, in hopeless confusion. However, he managed to gather together a body of officers and troops and, with them, charged desperately upon the British soldiers. He, with several other leaders of rank, was killed; and the Burmese were scattered through the jungle, leaving eight hundred dead behind them.
 
The fact that ten stockades, provided with thirty pieces of artillery, should have been captured in one day by the British, had created a deep impression among the villagers of the neighbourhood--from whom the truth could not be concealed--and indeed, all the villages, for many miles round the scene of action, were crowded with wounded. They told Meinik that the army was, for a time, profoundly depressed. Many had deserted, and the fact that stockades they had thought impregnable were of no avail, whatever, against the enemy, whose regular and combined action was irresistible, as against their own isolated and individual method of fighting, had shaken their hitherto profound belief in their own superiority to any people with whom they might come in contact.
 
Since that time no serious fighting had taken place. Occasional night attacks had been made, and all efforts on the part of the invaders to obtain food, by foraging parties, had proved unsuccessful. The boats of the fleet had gone up the Puzendown river, that joined the Rangoon river some distance below the town, and had captured a large number of boats that had been lying there, waiting until Rangoon was taken before going up the river with their cargoes of rice and salt fish; but they had gained no other advantage for, although the villages were crowded with fugitives from the town, these were driven into the jungle by the troops stationed there for the purpose, as soon as the boats were seen coming up the river.
 
In some cases, however, the boats had arrived so suddenly that there had not been time to do this; and the fugitives had been taken to Rangoon, where it was said they had been very well treated.
 
Great reinforcements had now come down from the upper provinces. Two of the king's brothers had arrived, to take command of the army; one had established himself at Donabew, the other at Pegu. They had brought with them numbers of astrologers, to fix upon a propitious time for an attack; and the king's Invulnerables, several thousands strong--a special corps, whom neither shot nor steel could injure--were with them.
 
About the 6th of August a strong position that had been taken up, by a force sent by the prince at Pegu, in the old Portuguese fort of Syriam had been attacked; with orders that the channel of the Rangoon river should be blocked, so that none of the strangers should escape the fate that awaited them. The position was a very strong one. The trees and brushwood round the fort had been cleared away; wherever there were gaps in the old wall stockades had been erected; and great beams suspended from the parapet in order that, if an attack was made, the ropes could be cut and the beams fall upon the heads of the assailants.
 
The British had, however, thrown a bridge across a deep creek, pushed on against the place, and carried it in a few minutes; the garrison flying, as soon as the assailants gained the ramparts, to a pagoda standing on a very steep hill, defended by guns, and assailable only by a very steep flight of steps. The troops, however, pressed up these fearlessly; and the garrison, discouraged and shaken by the reports of the fugitives from the lower fort, had fled as soon as the British arrived at the top of the steps.
 
Notwithstanding this and other, as successful, attacks upon their stockades, the Burmese troops now felt confident that, with their numerous forces, they would be victorious whenever the astrologers decided that the favourable moment had arrived.
 
Meinik had ascertained, from the villagers, the name of the leader and the locality to which the corps belonged that was posted nearest to Rangoon. As soon as it was dark, he and Stanley entered the forest. The smoke had served as a guide, to them, as to the position of the different corps; and they were able to make their way between these without being questioned. Presently, however, they came upon a strong picket.
 
"Where are you going?" the officer in command asked.
 
"To join the corps of the Woondock Snodee," Meinik replied. "We were away at Bhanno when the order came, and the rest had gone down the river before we got to Mew; so we came on by ourselves, not wishing to fail in our duty."
 
"You are just in time," the officer said. "The Woondock is a quarter of a mile away, on the left."
 
They moved off in that direction; but soon left the track and, avoiding the camp, kept away until they reached the edge of the forest. Then they crept forward through the jungle and brushwood, pausing to listen from time to time and, three times, changing their course to avoid parties of the Burmese acting as outposts.
 
On issuing from the jungle they crawled forward for three or four hundred yards, so as to be beyond musket shot of the outposts; and then remained quiet until morning broke. Then they could perceive red coats moving about, in a small village before which a breastwork had been thrown up, some four hundred yards away from them and, getting up to their feet, ran towards it. Several shots were fired at them, from the jungle behind; and some soldiers at once appeared at the breastwork. Supposing that the two figures approaching were Burmese deserters, they did not fire; and Stanley and his companion were soon among them.
 
They were soldiers of one of the Bengal regiments; and Stanley, to their surprise, addressed them in their own language.
 
"I am an Englishman," he said. "I am one of the prisoners whom they took, at Ramoo, and have escaped from their hands. Are there any of your officers in the village?"
 
"I will take you to them," a native sub-officer said; and Stanley, in a minute or two, entered a cottage in which four English officers were just taking their early breakfast, preparatory to turning out on duty.
 
"Whom have you got here, jemadar?" one of them asked, in Bengalee.
 
Stanley answered for himself.
 
"I am an Englishman, sir, and have just escaped from Ava."
 
The officer uttered an exclamation of surprise.
 
"Well, sir," the senior of them said, as he held out his hand to Stanley, "I congratulate you on having got away, whoever you are; but I am bound to say that, if it were not for your speech, I should not have believed you; for I have never seen anyone look less like an Englishman than you do."
 
"My name is Stanley Brooke, sir. I am the son of the late Captain Brooke, of the 15th Native Regiment."
 
"Then I should know you," one of the other officers said, "for I knew your father; and I remember seeing your name in the list of officers killed, at Ramoo, and wondered if it could be the lad I knew five or six years ago."
 
"I recollect you, Captain Cooke," Stanley said. "Your regiment was at Agra, when we were there."
 
"Right you are; and I am heartily glad that the news of your death was false," and he shook hands cordially with Stanley.
 
"And who is your companion?" the major asked. "Is he an Englishman, also?"
 
"No, sir; he is a native. He is a most faithful fellow. He has acted as my guide, all the way down from the point we started from, twenty miles from Ava. I could never have accomplished it without his aid for, although I speak Burmese well enough to pass anywhere, my face is so different in shape from theirs that, if I were looked at closely in the daylight, I should be suspected at once. I could never have got here without his aid."
 
"How was it that he came to help you, sir?" Major Pemberton asked. "As far as we can see, the Burmese hate us like poison. Even when they are wounded to death, they will take a last shot at any soldiers marching past them."
 
"I happened to save his life from a leopard," Stanley said, "and, truly, he has shown his gratitude."
 
"Jemadar," the major said, "take that man away with you. See that he is well treated. Give him some food, of course. He will presently go with this officer to the general."
 
Stanley said a few words in Burmese to Meinik, telling him that he was to have food, and would afterwards go with him to the general; and he then, at the invitation of the officers, sat down with them to breakfast. While eating it, Stanley told them something of his adventures. After the meal was over, the major said:
 
"You had better go with Mr. Brooke to the general, Captain Cooke. I cannot well leave the regiment.
 
"We can let you have an outfit, Mr. Brooke; though we are, most of us, reduced pretty well to our last garments. What with the jungle and what with the damp, we have nearly all arrived at the last state of dilapidation; but I am sure the general would like to see you in your present disguise."
 
"It makes no difference to me, sir," Stanley said, with a laugh. "I am so accustomed to this black petticoat, now, that I should almost feel strange in anything else. I am afraid this dye will be a long time before it wears itself out. It is nearly three weeks since I was dyed last, and it has faded very little, yet."
 
"You need not take your arms, anyhow," Captain Cooke said. "You will attract less attention going without them, for it will only be supposed that you are one of the natives who have been brought in by the boats."
 
Meinik was sitting on the ground, contentedly, outside the cottage, the jemadar standing beside him.
 
"Have you had any food, Meinik?" Stanley asked.
 
The man nodded.
 
"Good food," he said.
 
"That is all right. Now, come along with us. You can leave your weapons here--they won't be wanted."
 
Meinik rose and followed Stanley and Captain Cooke. There were houses scattered all along the roadside. These were now all occupied by officers and troops, and there were so many of them that it had not been necessary to place any of the men under canvas--an important consideration, during the almost continuous rain of the last three months.
 
"Why, Cooke, I did not know that you talked Burmese," an officer standing at one of the doors remarked, as the officer came along, chatting with Stanley.
 
"You don't know all my accomplishments, Phillipson," the captain laughed, for the idea that there existed such a thing as a Burmese peasant who could talk English had not occurred to the other. "I am taking him to the chief, to show off my powers;" and passed on, leaving the officer looking after him, with a puzzled expression on his face.
 
On their arrival at Sir Archibald Campbell's headquarters, Captain Cooke sent in his name and, as the general was not at the moment engaged, he was at once shown in; followed by Stanley, Meinik remaining without.
 
"Good morning, sir. I see you have brought in a deserter," the general said.
 
"He is not a deserter, sir. He is an escaped prisoner, who has made his way down from Ava through the enemy's lines.
 
"This is Mr. Brooke. He was serving as an officer with the native levy, at Ramoo, and was reported as killed. However, he was fortunately only stunned and, being the only officer found alive, was sent by Bandoola as a prisoner to Ava. I may say that he is a son of the late Captain Brooke, of the 15th Native Infantry."
 
"You are certainly wonderfully disguised," the general said; "and I congratulate you heartily on your escape. I should have passed you by as a native without a second glance though, now that I am told that you are an Englishman, I can see that you have not the wide cheekbones and flat face of a Burman. How did you manage to make your way down?"
 
"I travelled almost entirely by night, sir; and I had with me a faithful guide. He is outside. I don't think that I should ever have got down without him, though I speak Burmese well enough to pass--especially as the language differs so much, in the different districts."
 
"Is he a Burman?"
 
"Yes, general."
 
"Have you arranged with him for any particular sum for his services? If so, it will of course be paid."
 
"No, sir; he came down simply in gratitude for a service I rendered him. I do not know whether he intends to go back; but I hope that he will remain here, with me."
 
"I have brought Mr. Brooke here, sir," Captain Cooke said, "at the request of the major; thinking that you might like to ask him some questions as to the state of things in the interior."
 
"I should like to have a long talk with Mr. Brooke," the general said; "but unless he has any certain news of the date they intend to attack us, I will not detain him now. The first thing will be for him to get into civilized clothes again.
 
"By the way, poor young Hitchcock's effects are to be sold this morning. I should think that they would fit Mr. Brooke very well.
 
"Let me see. Of course, your pay has been running on, since you were taken prisoner, Mr. Brooke."
 
"I am afraid, sir, that there is no pay due," Stanley said. "I happened to be at Ramoo at the time, looking after some goods of my uncle, who carries on a considerable trade on the coast; and as I talk the language, and there were very few who did so, I volunteered to act as an officer with the native levy. I preferred to act as a volunteer, in order that I might be free to leave, at any time, if I received an order from my uncle to join him at Chittagong.
 
"I could give an order on him, but I do not know where he is to be found. I have with me some uncut rubies; though I have no idea what they are worth, for I have not even looked at them yet; but they should certainly be good security for 50 pounds."
 
"We can settle that presently, Mr. Brooke. I will write an order on the paymaster for 500 rupees; and we can talk the matter over, afterwards. I am afraid that you will have to pay rather high for the clothes, for almost everyone here has worn out his kit; and Mr. Hitchcock only joined us a fortnight before his death, so that his are in very good condition. Of course, they are all uniform--he was on my staff--but that will not matter. You could hardly be going about in civilian clothes, here.
 
"I shall be very glad if you will dine with me, at six o'clock this evening. Have a talk with your man before that, and see what he wants to do. If he is a sharp fellow, he might be very useful to us."
 
The general wrote the order on the paymaster, and Captain Cooke took Stanley across to the office and obtained the cash for it. Making inquiry, he found that the sale was to come off in a quarter of an hour.
 
"I will do the bidding for you, if you like, Brooke," Captain Cooke said. "I dare say you would rather not be introduced, generally, in your present rig."
 
"Much rather not, and I shall be much obliged by your doing it."
 
"All right. I will make your money go as far as I can. Of course, the poor fellow brought no full-dress uniform with him, or anything of that sort."
 
"You will find me here with my Burman," Stanley said. "We will stroll round the place for half an hour, and then come back here again."
 
There was very little to see in the town. Meinik was astonished, when they mounted the river bank and had a view of the ships lying at anchor. For a time he was too surprised to speak, never having seen anything larger than the clumsy cargo boats which made a voyage, once a year, up the river.
 
"It is wonderful!" he said at last. "Who would have thought of such great ships? If the emperor could but see them, I think that he would make peace. It is easy to see that you know many things more than we do. Could one go on board of them?"
 
"Not as I am, at present, Meinik; but when I get English clothes on again, and rid myself from some of this stain, I have no doubt I shall be able to take you on board one of the ships-of-war.
 
"And now, will you let me know what you are thinking of doing? I told the general what service you had rendered me, and he asked me what you were going to do. I told him that, as yet, I did not know whether you were going to stay here, or go back again."
 
"Are you going to stay here?"
 
"I think so--at any rate, for a time. I do not know where the uncle I have told you about is, at present. At any rate, while this war is going on he can do very little trade, and can manage very well without me."
 
"As long as you stay here, I shall stay," the Burman said. "If I went back, I should have to fight against your people; and I don't want to do that. I have no quarrel with them and, from what I see, I am not so sure as I was that we shall drive you into the sea. You have beaten us, whenever you have fought; and I would rather stay with you, than be obliged to fight against you.
 
"Not many men want to fight. We heard that in the villages, and that those who have not got wives and children held, as hostages for them, get away from the army and hide in the woods.
 
"You will be a great man now and, if you will let me stop, I will be your servant."
 
"I will gladly keep you with me, Meinik, if you are willing to stay; and I am sure that you will be better off, here, than out in the woods, and a good deal safer. At any rate, stay until after your people make their next attack. You will see then how useless it is for them to fight against us. When we can attack them in their stockades, although they are ten to one against us, and drive them out after a quarter of an hour's fighting; you may be sure that in the open ground, without defences, they will have no chance whatever.
 
"I hope they will soon get tired of fighting, and that the court will make peace. We did not want to fight with them--it was they who attacked us but, now that we have had all the expense of coming here, we shall go on fighting till the emperor agrees to make peace; but I don't think that we shall ever go out of Rangoon, again, and believe that we shall also hold the ports in Tenasserim that we have captured."
 
"The emperor will never agree to that," Meinik said, shaking his head positively.
 
"Then if he does not, he will see that we shall go up the river to Ava and, in the end, if he goes on fighting we shall capture the whole country; and rule over it, just as we have done the greater part of India."
 
"I think that would be good for us," the man said philosophically. "It would not matter much to us to whom we paid our taxes--and you would not tax us more heavily than we are now--for as we came down you saw many villages deserted, and the land uncultivated, because the people could not pay the heavy exactions. It is not the king--he does not get much of it--but he gives a province, or a district, or a dozen villages to someone at court; and says, 'you must pay me so much, and all that you can get out of it, besides, is for yourself;' so they heap on the taxes, and the people are always in great poverty and, when they find that they cannot pay what is demanded and live, then they all go away to some other place, where the lord is not so harsh."
 
"I am sure that it would be a good thing for them, Meinik. The people of India are a great deal better off, under us, than they were under their native rulers. There is a fixed tax, and no one is allowed to charge more, or to oppress the people in any way.
 
"But now we must be going. I said that I would be back at the place we started from, in half an hour."


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