Part 3 (2/2)
On the 23rd June, my wife presented me with a son, and he being the first child of pure European parentage born in the hills, the Nagas of Samagudting took great interest in the baby, and old Yatsole the Peumah, said he should be their chief and named him ”Naga Rajah.” The friendly women and girls from the village constantly came to see him. We liked the hills and the people, and the work so much that we both felt we could willingly have pa.s.sed our lives among them. All the same, our accommodation was really most wretched, and food was bad and scarce, and water scarcer. As the rainy season advanced the place grew more and more unhealthy, and having a baby to attend to, my wife never left Samagudting. I continued to go down to Dimapur occasionally, and sometimes rode out with my friend Needham to inspect the path that was being cut to Mohung Deejood and a rest house being built at a place in the forest on that road, called Borsali. It was pleasant to have a companion during a long lonely ride. Needham was an indefatigable worker, and always ready for a dash. He made a capital frontier officer, and has since greatly distinguished himself on the N.-E. Frontier.
Towards the end of August, the Vanda Caerulea orchids began to come into flower. There was a magnificent plant of them in a large old tree on the summit of the hill, indeed the most splendid specimen of their kind that I ever saw; but wild flowers, many really beautiful, were generally procurable, especially a small snow-white flower rather like a periwinkle that grew in the jungle on a small ever-green bush. Ferns, including maidenhair, were very plentiful, and we made collections of them in our morning and evening walks. These walks often led us past stray huts, and once my wife was asked to come into one and prescribe for a sick Naga woman. We both entered it and finding that the woman had fever, we told her husband to keep her cool and quiet, and promised some medicine. When we again went to see her, the hut, about nine feet by seven feet in size, was full of little fires on the floor, over which several Nagas were drying strips of flesh from an elephant that had been killed a few miles away. The temperature must have been about 110 degrees, so little wonder that the poor woman was no better. The husband said she would not take her medicine, and when in our presence he attempted to give it she hit him on the head; yet he wore the warrior's kilt, so had taken at least one life. When my wife sat down by her and gave her the medicine she took it readily. Towards the end of the rainy season many were laid low by fever. Natives of other parts of India until thoroughly acclimatised, suffer greatly from the diseases peculiar to jungle districts, and our servants were not exceptions to the rule. Once acclimatised, a Hindoostani seems able to stand anything. It used to be said in my regiment, the 1st a.s.sam Light Infantry Battalion, now 42nd, that Hindoostani recruits spent their first three years' service in hospital! I am sure that something of the same kind might have been said of those who came to the Naga Hills before the headquarters were removed to Kohima.
Captain Butler, recognising the unsuitableness of Samagudting for a station, had recommended the removal of the headquarters to Woka, in the Lotah Naga country, and about sixty-three miles from Kohima. I spoke to him on the subject, and pointed out the superior advantages of Kohima as a central position, dominating the Angami Naga country. He quite agreed with me, but said he had advocated Woka as being nearer the plains, nearer water carriage, and altogether a more comfortable situation, especially for the officers. I went into the whole subject most carefully, and before leaving the Naga Hills I thought it right to record my opinion in a memorandum to the Government of a.s.sam. This I did, pointing out as forcibly as I could the very superior advantages of Kohima, and urging most strongly that it should be adopted as our headquarters station in the Naga Hills. As I was only the officiating agent, I could not expect my views to carry as much weight as Captain Butler's, but convinced as I was, I was bound to state them. The question was not settled for some years when Kohima was the site selected, and it has ever since been the headquarters station.
I had never got over the attack of fever I had in April, and as the rainy season advanced, and we were for days together enveloped in mist, I had constant attacks, with other complications, and as Captain Butler was coming out in November, and the doctor strongly recommended me to go to England again, I determined to apply for leave. My friend Needham had gone on leave to s.h.i.+llong, so I could not think of starting till he returned. He was due at Samagudting early in November, and I prepared to leave then. It was with most sincere regret that we made arrangements for starting. We had got used to the discomforts of the place and had been very happy there and liked the people, and felt that they liked us; the cold weather too was just beginning and everything around us looked beautiful.
I had determined to march straight through the forest to Doboka, and thence take boat down the Kullung river to Gowhatty. It was a dreadful march to undertake, along a mere track untraversed by any European for years, but my wife liked the idea of it, and it was shorter than the route via Nigriting. On November 6th, we reluctantly said ”good-bye”
to all our kind friends at Samagudting and marched to Dimapur, where we halted next day to get all our things into order. Some of the chiefs of Samagudting accompanied us so far on our way and bade us a sorrowful adieu on the 7th. One old fellow took quite an affectionate farewell of our baby d.i.c.k. When I saw him again in 1879, he was blind, and one of his pretty little girls was dying.
We marched through dense forest on the 8th to Borsali, my wife riding and carrying the baby in her arms, there being no other mode of progression along such a bad road. On the 9th after seven hours'
actual marching, we reached Mohung Deejood, a place prettily situated on the banks of the Jumoona river with the last speck of the Rengma Hills standing out in high relief behind the village, but at some distance from it. Next day we again had a tiring march of eleven hours, including a halt for breakfast at a place called ”Silbheta” where there are splendid waterfalls, and did not reach our halting place, Bokuleea, till 6 P.M. The last two marches had been through a country devastated by tigers which had literally eaten up the population; each day we pa.s.sed deserted village sites. At Bokuleea we made rafts and floated down the river to Doboka, which we reached on November 13th.
Doboka is situated close to the hill of the same name and was a prominent object from Samagudting. There we took boats, and travelled in them down the Kullung river. We reached the junction with the Burrhampooter at daybreak on November 17th, and Gowhatty at midday. I was most thankful to see my wife and child safe in the Dak Bungalow after what was for delicate people a perilous journey, though an interesting and enjoyable one, through a country hardly ever traversed by European officials, and never by women and children. After a few days at Gowhatty to rest ourselves, we departed by steamer for Goalundo, arriving there early on November 29th, and immediately left for Calcutta, which we reached the same evening and went to stay with our kind friends the Rivers Thompsons, with whom we had travelled out to India in 1873. Glad as we were to be in civilised quarters once more after all our wanderings, we could not help regretting the kindly genial people we had left, and the beautiful scenery of the forest and mountain land, where we had lived so long and so happily.
On arrival in Calcutta, I went before the Medical Board, but not liking to go to England again so soon, I applied for three months' leave to visit the North-West Provinces for change of air, and we visited Benares, Lucknow, Cawnpore, and other towns. I do not attempt to describe them, as it has been often done by abler pens than mine. The after symptoms of malaria increased, and it was vain to prolong my stay in India in the hope of a cure. The Medical Board said my appearance was sufficient without examination, so we left Calcutta by the next steamer, going by ”long sea” to avoid the fatiguing journey across India to Bombay. After unusually rough weather in the Mediterranean and off the coast of Spain, we landed at Southampton, on March 9th, at 9 P.M., and went on to London next morning.
CHAPTER VI.
Return to India--Attached to Foreign Office--Imperial a.s.semblage at Delhi--Almorah--Appointed to Manipur--Journey to s.h.i.+llong--Cherra Poojee--Colonel McCulloch--Question of ceremony.
Malaria, and all the evils that follow in its train, are more easily acquired than got rid of. Possibly two years in England, including four visits to Carlsbad, which high medical authorities seem to consider, and very justly, a sine qua non, might give a man a good chance if he never again visited a malarious district, otherwise, my own experience shows me that two years are nothing. Every time I have gone before a Medical Board in London, preparatory to returning to duty, their last charge has been, ”You must never again go to a malarious district!” Medical Boards propose, and Government and circ.u.mstances dispose.
I stayed at home in a high and healthy part of the Midlands, and left for India again in October. I arrived in Calcutta in November, where I again suffered from malarious symptoms; but I soon got better, and was attached to the Foreign Office, at my own request, extra attaches being required for the Imperial a.s.semblage.
I had the good fortune to see the whole of that gorgeous pageant, the like of which this generation will probably never witness again, under the most favourable auspices; and though I had on an average eighteen hours' work out of each twenty-four, I was well repaid by being able to take part in it. I met many old friends, and also became acquainted with Salar Jung, Maharajahs Scindiah and Holkar, Sir d.i.n.kur Rao, Madhava Rao, and several other now historical celebrities. The Viceroy's reception-tent at night was a grand sight, filled with gallant soldiers, European and native, and great statesmen.
Among the new arrivals was the Khan of Khelat, an intelligent but savage-looking chief, with eyes all about him. I was being constantly deputed to carry polite messages from the Viceroy to different chiefs and celebrities and to meet them at the railway stations. Among those whom I met were the envoy from the Chief of Muscat, also the Siamese Amba.s.sador and his suite, a highly intelligent and sensible set of men. I remember well the rough-and-ready way in which the younger Siamese officers looked after their luggage and effects. They were provided with a handsome set of tents, and all dined together at one table in European fas.h.i.+on, in the most civilised way, with the British officer attached to them.
I stayed at Delhi till the a.s.semblage broke up, and after a few days in Calcutta with the Foreign Office, went to Bombay to meet my wife, who, with our two boys, arrived there on February 2nd. We at once set out on our way to Almorah in the Himalayas, where I was permitted to reside for a year and compile Foreign Office records.
We were delayed at Moradabad for a few days, as the pa.s.ses were covered with snow. At last we started, and found Nynee Tal deep in snow, and the lake frozen. Next day we marched across the track of an avalanche, and the following afternoon reached the Almorah Dak Bungalow, or rest house. The ground was covered with snow, and the cold intense, the bungalow draughty and very uncomfortable. After a few days we got into a house, which Sir H. Ramsey, who was then out on duty in the district, had kindly taken for us, and I dived deep into my records, consisting of early doc.u.ments relating to a.s.sam and the Singpho tribes.
As the weather grew warmer, Almorah became very pleasant. I pined for active work, but our stay here gave my wife experience in the mode of life in India, for which she was afterwards very thankful, and she obtained hints on housekeeping subjects from other ladies, which were a help to her later on. Life in the Naga Hills was of course very different to what it is in more civilised parts of India.
The Foreign Office had my name down in their list for an appointment. I could have gone to Manipur when I landed in Calcutta, but was not well enough. In July, I had a telegram to say that Lieut. Durand, who had lately been appointed, was ill, and must be relieved. Would I go? I at once replied in the affirmative, and off we started on July 16th. It was very short notice, but changing quarters at short notice is part of an Indian official's life, and the prospect of work was delightful to me. We had a trying journey down to Calcutta, as the rains had not begun in the North-West Provinces, and the heat was tremendous. However, we arrived none the worse for it, and stayed for a day or two with our kind friends, the Medlicotts.
As Colonel Keatinge, the Chief Commissioner of a.s.sam, wished to see me before I went to Manipur, I was ordered to join at s.h.i.+llong, so we proceeded by rail to Goalundo, one night's journey from Calcutta, and thence by river steamer to Chuttuk, on the Soorma, where we changed into country boats, and proceeded up a smaller river and across great jheels or shallow lakes, often pa.s.sing for miles through high gra.s.s growing in the water, which hid us from everything, till we reached a place called Bholagunj, situated on a river rapidly becoming narrower, where we again changed, this time into small canoes, the only conveyances that could take us up the rapids, with which the river abounds.
From Chuttuk we had come through a country mostly covered with gra.s.s jungle, twelve to fifteen feet in height; now we pa.s.sed through forest scenery, very lovely fine trees, with festoons of creepers and flowers overhanging the stream. At last we reached Thuria Ghat, where the ascent of the hills commenced, and there we halted for the night in the Dak Bungalow, or rest house. Most places situated as Thuria Ghat is, would be deadly on account of malaria, but it seems to be an exception, and, as far as I have seen, healthy.
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