HER MAJESTY'S SERVANTS
You can work it out by Fractions or by simple Rule of Three, But the way of Tweedle-dum is not the way of Tweedle-dee. You can twist it, you can turn it, you can plait it till you drop But the way of Pilly-Winky's not the way of Winkie-Pop!
HER MAJESTY'S SERVANTS
IT had been raining heavily for one whole month--raining on a camp ofthirty thousand men, thousands of camels, elephants, horses, bullocks,and mules, all gathered together at a place called Rawal Pindi, to bereviewed by the Viceroy of India. He was receiving a visit from the Amirof Afghanistan--a wild king of a very wild country; and the Amir hadbrought with him for a bodyguard eight hundred men and horses who hadnever seen a camp or a locomotive before in their lives--savage men andsavage horses from somewhere at the back of Central Asia. Every night amob of these horses would be sure to break their heel-ropes, andstampede up and down the camp through the mud in the dark, or thecamels would break loose and run about and fall over the ropes of thetents, and you can imagine how pleasant that was for men trying to go tosleep. My tent lay far away from the camel lines, and I thought it wassafe; but one night a man popped his head in and shouted, "Get out,quick! They're coming! My tent's gone!"
I knew who "they" were; so I put on my boots and waterproof and scuttledout into the slush. Little Vixen, my fox-terrier, went out through theother side; and then there was a roaring and a grunting and bubbling,and I saw the tent cave in, as the pole snapped, and begin to danceabout like a mad ghost. A camel had blundered into it, and wet and angryas I was, I could not help laughing. Then I ran on, because I did notknow how many camels might have got loose, and before long I was out ofsight of the camp, plowing my way through the mud.
"A CAMEL HAD BLUNDERED INTO MY TENT."]
At last I fell over the tail-end of a gun, and by that knew I wassomewhere near the Artillery lines where the cannon were stacked atnight. As I did not want to plowter about any more in the drizzle andthe dark, I put my waterproof over the muzzle of one gun, and made asort of wigwam with two or three rammers that I found, and lay alongthe tail of another gun, wondering where Vixen had got to, and where Imight be.
Just as I was getting ready to sleep I heard a jingle of harness and agrunt, and a mule passed me shaking his wet ears. He belonged to ascrew-gun battery, for I could hear the rattle of the straps and ringsand chains and things on his saddle-pad. The screw-guns are tidy littlecannon made in two pieces, that are screwed together when the time comesto use them. They are taken up mountains, anywhere that a mule can finda road, and they are very useful for fighting in rocky country.
Behind the mule there was a camel, with his big soft feet squelching andslipping in the mud, and his neck bobbing to and fro like a strayedhen's. Luckily, I knew enough of beast language--not wild-beastlanguage, but camp-beast language, of course--from the natives to knowwhat he was saying.
He must have been the one that flopped into my tent, for he called tothe mule, "What shall I do? Where shall I go? I have fought with a whitething that waved, and it took a stick and hit me on the neck." (That wasmy broken tentpole, and I was very glad to know it.) "Shall we run on?"
"Oh, it was you," said the mule, "you and your friends, that have beendisturbing the camp? All right. You'll be beaten for this in themorning; but I may as well give you something on account now."
I heard the harness jingle as the mule backed and caught the camel twokicks in the ribs that rang like a drum. "Another time," he said,"you'll know better than to run through a mule-battery at night,shouting 'Thieves and fire!' Sit down, and keep your silly neck quiet."
The camel doubled up camel-fashion, like a two-foot rule, and sat downwhimpering. There was a regular beat of hoofs in the darkness, and a bigtroop-horse cantered up as steadily as though he were on parade, jumpeda gun-tail, and landed close to the mule.
"It's disgraceful," he said, blowing out his nostrils. "Those camelshave racketed through our lines again--the third time this week. How's ahorse to keep his condition if he isn't allowed to sleep? Who's here?"
"I'm the breech-piece mule of number two gun of the First ScrewBattery," said the mule, "and the other's one of your friends. He'swaked me up too. Who are you?"
"Number Fifteen, E troop, Ninth Lancers--Dick Cunliffe's horse. Standover a little, there."
"Oh, beg your pardon," said the mule. "It's too dark to see much. Aren'tthese camels too sickening for anything? I walked out of my lines to geta little peace and quiet here."
"My lords," said the camel humbly, "we dreamed bad dreams in the night,and we were very much afraid. I am only a baggage-camel of the 39thNative Infantry, and I am not so brave as you are, my lords."
"Then why the pickets didn't you stay and carry baggage for the 39thNative Infantry, instead of running all round the camp?" said the mule.
"They were such very bad dreams," said the camel. "I am sorry. Listen!What is that? Shall we run on again?"
"Sit down," said the mule, "or you'll snap your long legs between theguns." He cocked one ear and listened. "Bullocks!" he said;"gun-bullocks. On my word, you and your friends have waked the camp verythoroughly. It takes a good deal of prodding to put up a gun-bullock."
I heard a chain dragging along the ground, and a yoke of the great sulkywhite bullocks that drag the heavy siege-guns when the elephants won'tgo any nearer to the firing, came shouldering along together; and almoststepping on the chain was another battery-mule, calling wildly for"Billy."
"That's one of our recruits," said the old mule to the troop-horse."He's calling for me. Here, youngster, stop squealing; the dark neverhurt anybody yet."
The gun-bullocks lay down together and began chewing the cud, but theyoung mule huddled close to Billy.
"Things!" he said; "fearful and horrible things, Billy! They came intoour lines while we were asleep. D'you think they'll kill us?"
"I've a very great mind to give you a number one kicking," said Billy."The idea of a fourteen-hand mule with your training disgracing thebattery before this gentleman!"
"Gently, gently!" said the troop-horse. "Remember they are always likethis to begin with. The first time I ever saw a man (it was in Australiawhen I was a three-year-old) I ran for half a day, and if I'd seen acamel I should have been running still."
Nearly all our horses for the English cavalry are brought to India fromAustralia, and are broken in by the troopers themselves.
"True enough," said Billy. "Stop shaking, youngster. The first time theyput the full harness with all its chains on my back, I stood on my forelegs and kicked every bit of it off. I hadn't learned the real scienceof kicking then, but the battery said they had never seen anything likeit."
"But this wasn't harness or anything that jingled," said the young mule."You know I don't mind that now, Billy. It was Things like trees, andthey fell up and down the lines and bubbled; and my head-rope broke, andI couldn't find my driver, and I couldn't find you, Billy, so I ran offwith--with these gentlemen."
"H'm!" said Billy. "As soon as I heard the camels were loose I came awayon my own account, quietly. When a battery--a screw-gun mule callsgun-bullocks gentlemen, he must be very badly shaken up. Who are youfellows on the ground there?"
The gun-bullocks rolled their cuds, and answered both together: "Theseventh yoke of the first gun of the Big Gun Battery. We were asleepwhen the camels came, but when we were trampled on we got up and walkedaway. It is better to lie quiet in the mud than to be disturbed on goodbedding. We told your friend here that there was nothing to be afraidof, but he knew so much that he thought otherwise. Wah!"
They went on chewing.
"That comes of being afraid," said Billy. "You get laughed at bygun-bullocks. I hope you like it, young 'un."
The young mule's teeth snapped, and I heard him say something about notbeing afraid of any beefy old bullock in the world; but the bullocksonly clicked their horns together and
went on chewing.
"Now, don't be angry _after_ you've been afraid. That's the worst kindof cowardice," said the troop-horse. "Anybody can be forgiven for beingscared in the night, _I_ think, if they see things they don'tunderstand. We've broken out of our pickets, again and again, fourhundred and fifty of us, just because a new recruit got to telling talesof whip-snakes at home in Australia till we were scared to death of theloose ends of our head-ropes."
"'ANYBODY CAN BE FORGIVEN FOR BEING SCARED IN THE NIGHT,' SAID THE TROOP-HORSE."]
"That's all very well in camp," said Billy; "I'm not above stampedingmyself, for the fun of the thing, when I haven't been out for a day ortwo; but what do you do on active service?"
"Oh, that's quite another set of new shoes," said the troop-horse. "DickCunliffe's on my back then, and drives his knees into me, and all Ihave to do is to watch where I am putting my feet, and to keep my hindlegs well under me, and be bridle-wise."
"What's bridle-wise?" said the young mule.
"By the Blue Gums of the Back Blocks," snorted the troop-horse, "do youmean to say that you aren't taught to be bridle-wise in your business?How can you do anything, unless you can spin round at once when the reinis pressed on your neck? It means life or death to your man, and ofcourse that's life or death to you. Get round with your hind legs underyou the instant you feel the rein on your neck. If you haven't room toswing round, rear up a little and come round on your hind legs. That'sbeing bridle-wise."
"We aren't taught that way," said Billy the mule stiffly. "We're taughtto obey the man at our head: step off when he says so, and step in whenhe says so. I suppose it comes to the same thing. Now, with all thisfine fancy business and rearing, which must be very bad for your hocks,what do you _do_?"
"That depends," said the troop-horse. "Generally I have to go in among alot of yelling, hairy men with knives,--long shiny knives, worse thanthe farrier's knives,--and I have to take care that Dick's boot is justtouching the next man's boot without crushing it. I can see Dick's lanceto the right of my right eye, and I know I'm safe. I shouldn't care tobe the man or horse that stood up to Dick and me when we're in a hurry."
"Don't the knives hurt?" said the young mule.
"Well, I got one cut across the chest once, but that wasn't Dick'sfault--"
"A lot I should have cared whose fault it was, if it hurt!" said theyoung mule.
"You must," said the troop-horse. "If you don't trust your man, you mayas well run away at once. That's what some of our horses do, and I don'tblame them. As I was saying, it wasn't Dick's fault. The man was lyingon the ground, and I stretched myself not to tread on him, and heslashed up at me. Next time I have to go over a man lying down I shallstep on him--hard."
"'THE MAN WAS LYING ON THE GROUND, AND I STRETCHED MYSELF NOT TO TREAD ON HIM, AND HE SLASHED UP AT ME.'"]
"H'm!" said Billy; "it sounds very foolish. Knives are dirty things atany time. The proper thing to do is to climb up a mountain with awell-balanced saddle, hang on by all four feet and your ears too, andcreep and crawl and wriggle along, till you come out hundreds of feetabove any one else, on a ledge where there's just room enough for yourhoofs. Then you stand still and keep quiet,--never ask a man to holdyour head, young 'un,--keep quiet while the guns are being put together,and then you watch the little poppy shells drop down into the tree-topsever so far below."
"Don't you ever trip?" said the troop-horse.
"They say that when a mule trips you can split a hen's ear," said Billy."Now and again _per-haps_ a badly packed saddle will upset a mule, butit's very seldom. I wish I could show you our business. It's beautiful.Why, it took me three years to find out what the men were driving at.The science of the thing is never to show up against the sky-line,because, if you do, you may get fired at. Remember that, young 'un.Always keep hidden as much as possible, even if you have to go a mileout of your way. I lead the battery when it comes to that sort ofclimbing."
"Fired at without the chance of running into the people who are firing!"said the troop-horse, thinking hard. "I couldn't stand that. I shouldwant to charge, with Dick."
"Oh no, you wouldn't; you know that as soon as the guns are in position_they'll_ do all the charging. That's scientific and neat; butknives--pah!"
The baggage-camel had been bobbing his head to and fro for some timepast, anxious to get a word in edgeways. Then I heard him say, as hecleared his throat, nervously:
"I--I--I have fought a little, but not in that climbing way or thatrunning way."
"No. Now you mention it," said Billy, "you don't look as though you weremade for climbing or running--much. Well, how was it, old Hay-bales?"
"The proper way," said the camel. "We all sat down--"
"Oh, my crupper and breastplate!" said the troop-horse under his breath."Sat down?"
"We sat down--a hundred of us," the camel went on, "in a big square, andthe men piled our packs and saddles outside the square, and they firedover our backs, the men did, on all sides of the square."
"What sort of men? Any men that came along?" said the troop-horse. "Theyteach us in riding-school to lie down and let our masters fire acrossus, but Dick Cunliffe is the only man I'd trust to do that. It ticklesmy girths, and, besides, I can't see with my head on the ground."
"What does it matter who fires across you?" said the camel. "There areplenty of men and plenty of other camels close by, and a great manyclouds of smoke. I am not frightened then. I sit still and wait."
"And yet," said Billy, "you dream bad dreams and upset the camp atnight. Well! well! Before I'd lie down, not to speak of sitting down,and let a man fire across me, my heels and his head would have somethingto say to each other. Did you ever hear anything so awful as that?"
There was a long silence, and then one of the gun-bullocks lifted up hisbig head and said, "This is very foolish indeed. There is only one wayof fighting."
"Oh, go on," said Billy. "_Please_ don't mind me. I suppose you fellowsfight standing on your tails?"
"Only one way," said the two together. (They must have been twins.)"This is that way. To put all twenty yoke of us to the big gun as soonas Two Tails trumpets." ("Two Tails" is camp slang for the elephant.)
"What does Two Tails trumpet for?" said the young mule.
"To show that he is not going any nearer to the smoke on the other side.Two Tails is a great coward. Then we tug the big gun alltogether--_Heya_--_Hullah! Heeyah! Hullah!_ _We_ do not climb like catsnor run like calves. We go across the level plain, twenty yoke of us,till we are unyoked again, and we graze while the big guns talk acrossthe plain to some town with mud walls, and pieces of the wall fall out,and the dust goes up as though many cattle were coming home."
"Oh! And you choose that time for grazing do you?" said the young mule.
"That time or any other. Eating is always good. We eat till we are yokedup again and tug the gun back to where Two Tails is waiting for it.Sometimes there are big guns in the city that speak back, and some of usare killed, and then there is all the more grazing for those that areleft. This is Fate--nothing but Fate. None the less, Two Tails is agreat coward. That is the proper way to fight. We are brothers fromHapur. Our father was a sacred bull of Shiva. We have spoken."
"Well, I've certainly learned something tonight," said the troop-horse."Do you gentlemen of the screw-gun battery feel inclined to eat when youare being fired at with big guns, and Two Tails is behind you?"
"About as much as we feel inclined to sit down and let men sprawl allover us, or run into people with knives. I never heard such stuff. Amountain ledge, a well-balanced load, a driver you can trust to let youpick your own way, and I'm your mule; but the other things--no!" saidBilly, with a stamp of his foot.
"Of course," said the troop-horse, "every one is not made in the sameway, and I can quite see that your family, on your father's side, wouldfail to understand a great many things."
"Never you mind my family on my father's side," said Billy angrily; forevery mule hates to be
reminded that his father was a donkey. "My fatherwas a Southern gentleman, and he could pull down and bite and kick intorags every horse he came across. Remember that, you big brown Brumby!"
Brumby means wild horse without any breeding. Imagine the feelings ofSunol if a car-horse called her a "skate," and you can imagine how theAustralian horse felt. I saw the white of his eye glitter in the dark.
"See here, you son of an imported Malaga jackass," he said between histeeth, "I'd have you know that I'm related on my mother's side toCarbine, winner of the Melbourne Cup, and where _I_ come from we aren'taccustomed to being ridden over roughshod by any parrot-mouthed,pig-headed mule in a pop-gun peashooter battery. Are you ready?"
"On your hind legs!" squealed Billy. They both reared up facing eachother, and I was expecting a furious fight, when a gurgly, rumbly voicecalled out of the darkness to the right--"Children, what are youfighting about there? Be quiet."
Both beasts dropped down with a snort of disgust, for neither horse normule can bear to listen to an elephant's voice.
"It's Two Tails!" said the troop-horse. "I can't stand him. A tail ateach end isn't fair!"
"My feelings exactly," said Billy, crowding into the troop-horse forcompany. "We're very alike in some things."
"I suppose we've inherited them from our mothers," said the troop-horse."It's not worth quarreling about. Hi! Two Tails, are you tied up?"
"Yes," said Two Tails, with a laugh all up his trunk. "I'm picketed forthe night. I've heard what you fellows have been saying. But don't beafraid. I'm not coming over."
The bullocks and the camel said, half aloud: "Afraid of Two Tails--whatnonsense!" And the bullocks went on: "We are sorry that you heard, butit is true. Two Tails, why are you afraid of the guns when they fire?"
"Well," said Two Tails, rubbing one hind leg against the other, exactlylike a little boy saying a piece, "I don't quite know whether you'dunderstand."
"We don't, but we have to pull the guns," said the bullocks.
"I know it, and I know you are a good deal braver than you think youare. But it's different with me. My battery captain called me aPachydermatous Anachronism the other day."
"That's another way of fighting, I suppose?" said Billy, who wasrecovering his spirits.
"_You_ don't know what that means, of course, but I do. It means betwixtand between, and that is just where I am. I can see inside my head whatwill happen when a shell bursts; and you bullocks can't."
"I can," said the troop-horse. "At least a little bit. I try not tothink about it."
"I can see more than you, and I _do_ think about it. I know there's agreat deal of me to take care of, and I know that nobody knows how tocure me when I'm sick. All they can do is to stop my driver's pay tillI get well, and I can't trust my driver."
"Ah!" said the troop-horse. "That explains it. I can trust Dick."
"You could put a whole regiment of Dicks on my back without making mefeel any better. I know just enough to be uncomfortable, and not enoughto go on in spite of it."
"We do not understand," said the bullocks.
"I know you don't. I'm not talking to you. You don't know what bloodis."
"We do," said the bullocks. "It is red stuff that soaks into the groundand smells."
The troop-horse gave a kick and a bound and a snort.
"Don't talk of it," he said. "I can smell it now, just thinking of it.It makes me want to run--when I haven't Dick on my back."
"But it is not here," said the camel and the bullocks. "Why are you sostupid?"
"It's vile stuff," said Billy. "I don't want to run, but I don't want totalk about it."
"There you are!" said Two Tails, waving his tail to explain.
"Surely. Yes, we have been here all night," said the bullocks.
Two Tails stamped his foot till the iron ring on it jingled. "Oh, I'mnot talking to _you_. You can't see inside your heads."
"No. We see out of our four eyes," said the bullocks. "We see straightin front of us."
"If I could do that and nothing else you wouldn't be needed to pull thebig guns at all. If I was like my captain--he can see things inside hishead before the firing begins, and he shakes all over, but he knows toomuch to run away--if I was like him I could pull the guns. But if I wereas wise as all that I should never be here. I should be a king in theforest, as I used to be, sleeping half the day and bathing when I liked.I haven't had a good bath for a month."
"That's all very fine," said Billy; "but giving a thing a long namedoesn't make it any better."
"H'sh!" said the troop-horse. "I think I understand what Two Tailsmeans."
"You'll understand better in a minute," said Two Tails angrily. "Now,just you explain to me why you don't like _this_!"
He began trumpeting furiously at the top of his trumpet.
"Stop that!" said Billy and the troop-horse together, and I could hearthem stamp and shiver. An elephant's trumpeting is always nasty,especially on a dark night.
"I sha'n't stop," said Two Tails. "Won't you explain that, please?_Hhrrm?h! Rrrt! Rrrmph! Rrrhha!_" Then he stopped suddenly, and I hearda little whimper in the dark, and knew that Vixen had found me at last.She knew as well as I did that if there is one thing in the world theelephant is more afraid of than another it is a little barking dog; soshe stopped to bully Two Tails in his pickets, and yapped round his bigfeet. Two Tails shuffled and squeaked. "Go away, little dog!" he said."Don't snuff at my ankles, or I 'll kick at you. Good little dog--nicelittle doggie, then! Go home, you yelping little beast! Oh, why doesn'tsome one take her away? She'll bite me in a minute."
"Seems to me," said Billy to the troop-horse, "that our friend Two Tailsis afraid of most things. Now, if I had a full meal for every dog I'vekicked across the parade-ground, I should be as fat as Two Tailsnearly."
I whistled, and Vixen ran up to me, muddy all over, and licked my nose,and told me a long tale about hunting for me all through the camp. Inever let her know that I understood beast talk, or she would have takenall sorts of liberties. So I buttoned her into the breast of myovercoat, and Two Tails shuffled and stamped and growled to himself.
"Extraordinary! Most extraordinary!" he said. "It runs in our family.Now, where has that nasty little beast gone to?"
I heard him feeling about with his trunk.
"We all seem to be affected in various ways," he went on, blowing hisnose. "Now, you gentlemen were alarmed, I believe, when I trumpeted."
"Not alarmed, exactly," said the troop-horse, "but it made me feel asthough I had hornets where my saddle ought to be. Don't begin again."
"I'm frightened of a little dog, and the camel here is frightened by baddreams in the night."
"It is very lucky for us that we haven't all got to fight in the sameway," said the troop-horse.
"What I want to know," said the young mule, who had been quiet for along time--"what _I_ want to know is, why we have to fight at all."
"Because we are told to," said the troop-horse, with a snort ofcontempt.
"Orders," said Billy the mule; and his teeth snapped.
"_Hukm hai!_" (It is an order), said the camel with a gurgle; and TwoTails and the bullocks repeated, "_Hukm hai!_"
"Yes, but who gives the orders?" said the recruit-mule.
"The man who walks at your head--Or sits on your back--Or holds thenose-rope--Or twists your tail," said Billy and the troop-horse and thecamel and the bullocks one after the other.
"But who gives them the orders?"
"Now you want to know too much, young un," said Billy, "and that is oneway of getting kicked. All you have to do is to obey the man at yourhead and ask no questions."
"He's quite right," said Two Tails. "I can't always obey, because I'mbetwixt and between; but Billy's right. Obey the man next to you whogives the order, or you'll stop all the battery, besides getting athrashing."
The gun-bullocks got up to go. "Morning is coming," they said. "We willgo back to our lines. It is true that we see only out of our eyes, andwe are not very
clever; but still, we are the only people to-night whohave not been afraid. Good night, you brave people."
Nobody answered, and the troop-horse said, to change the conversation,"Where's that little dog? A dog means a man somewhere near."
"Here I am," yapped Vixen, "under the gun-tail with my man. You big,blundering beast of a camel you, you upset our tent. My man's veryangry."
"Phew!" said the bullocks. "He must be white?"
"Of course he is," said Vixen. "Do you suppose I'm looked after by ablack bullock-driver?"
"_Huah! Ouach! Ugh!_" said the bullocks. "Let us get away quickly."
They plunged forward in the mud, and managed somehow to run their yokeon the pole of an ammunition-wagon, where it jammed.
"Now you _have_ done it," said Billy calmly. "Don't struggle. You'rehung up till daylight. What on earth's the matter?"
The bullocks went off into the long hissing snorts that Indian cattlegive, and pushed and crowded and slued and stamped and slipped andnearly fell down in the mud, grunting savagely.
"You'll break your necks in a minute," said the troop-horse. "What's thematter with white men? I live with 'em."
"They--eat--us! Pull!" said the near bullock: the yoke snapped with atwang, and they lumbered off together.
I never knew before what made Indian cattle so afraid of Englishmen. Weeat beef--a thing that no cattle-driver touches--and of course thecattle do not like it.
"May I be flogged with my own pad-chains! Who'd have thought of two biglumps like those losing their heads?" said Billy.
"Never mind. I'm going to look at this man. Most of the white men, Iknow, have things in their pockets," said the troop-horse.
"I'll leave you, then. I can't say I'm overfond of 'em myself. Besides,white men who haven't a place to sleep in are more than likely to bethieves, and I've a good deal of Government property on my back. Comealong, young 'un, and we'll go back to our lines. Good-night, Australia!See you on parade to-morrow, I suppose. Good-night, old Hay-bale!--tryto control your feelings, won't you? Good-night, Two Tails! If you passus on the ground to-morrow, don't trumpet. It spoils our formation."
Billy the mule stumped off with the swaggering limp of an oldcampaigner, as the troop-horse's head came nuzzling into my breast, andI gave him biscuits; while Vixen, who is a most conceited little dog,told him fibs about the scores of horses that she and I kept.
"I'm coming to the parade to-morrow in my dog-cart," she said. "Wherewill you be?"
"On the left hand of the second squadron. I set the time for all mytroop, little lady," he said politely. "Now I must go back to Dick. Mytail's all muddy, and he'll have two hours' hard work dressing me forthe parade."
The big parade of all the thirty thousand men was held that afternoon,and Vixen and I had a good place close to the Viceroy and the Amir ofAfghanistan, with his high big black hat of astrakhan wool and the greatdiamond star in the center. The first part of the review was allsunshine, and the regiments went by in wave upon wave of legs all movingtogether, and guns all in a line, till our eyes grew dizzy. Then thecavalry came up, to the beautiful cavalry canter of "Bonnie Dundee," andVixen cocked her ear where she sat on the dog-cart. The second squadronof the lancers shot by, and there was the troop-horse, with his taillike spun silk, his head pulled into his breast, one ear forward and oneback, setting the time for all his squadron, his legs going as smoothlyas waltz-music. Then the big guns came by, and I saw Two Tails and twoother elephants harnessed in line to a forty-pounder siege-gun whiletwenty yoke of oxen walked behind. The seventh pair had a new yoke, andthey looked rather stiff and tired. Last came the screw-guns, and Billythe mule carried himself as though he commanded all the troops, and hisharness was oiled and polished till it winked. I gave a cheer all bymyself for Billy the mule, but he never looked right or left.
The rain began to fall again, and for a while it was too misty to seewhat the troops were doing. They had made a big half-circle across theplain, and were spreading out into a line. That line grew and grew andgrew till it was three-quarters of a mile long from wing to wing--onesolid wall of men, horses, and guns. Then it came on straight toward theViceroy and the Amir, and as it got nearer the ground began to shake,like the deck of a steamer when the engines are going fast.
Unless you have been there you cannot imagine what a frightening effectthis steady come-down of troops has on the spectators, even when theyknow it is only a review. I looked at the Amir. Up till then he had notshown the shadow of a sign of astonishment or anything else; but now hiseyes began to get bigger and bigger, and he picked up the reins on hishorse's neck and looked behind him. For a minute it seemed as though hewere going to draw his sword and slash his way out through theEnglish men and women in the carriages at the back. Then the advancestopped dead, the ground stood still, the whole line saluted, and thirtybands began to play all together. That was the end of the review, andthe regiments went off to their camps in the rain; and an infantry bandstruck up with--
The animals went in two by two, Hurrah! The animals went in two by two, The elephant and the battery mu- l', and they all got into the Ark, For to get out of the rain!
Then I heard an old, grizzled, long-haired Central Asian chief, who hadcome down with the Amir, asking questions of a native officer.
"THEN I HEARD AN OLD, GRIZZLED, LONG-HAIRED, CENTRAL ASIAN CHIEF ASKING QUESTIONS OF A NATIVE OFFICER."]
"Now," said he, "in what manner was this wonderful thing done?"
And the officer answered, "There was an order, and they obeyed."
"But are the beasts as wise as the men?" said the chief.
"They obey, as the men do. Mule, horse, elephant, or bullock, he obeyshis driver, and the driver his sergeant, and the sergeant hislieutenant, and the lieutenant his captain, and the captain his major,and the major his colonel, and the colonel his brigadier commandingthree regiments, and the brigadier his general, who obeys the Viceroy,who is the servant of the Empress. Thus it is done."
"Would it were so in Afghanistan!" said the chief; "for there we obeyonly our own wills."
"And for that reason," said the native officer, twirling his mustache,"your Amir whom you do not obey must come here and take orders from ourViceroy."
PARADE-SONG OF THE CAMP ANIMALS
ELEPHANTS OF THE GUN-TEAM
We lent to Alexander the strength of Hercules, The wisdom of our foreheads, the cunning of our knees; We bowed our necks to service; they ne'er were loosed again,-- Make way there, way for the ten-foot teams Of the Forty-Pounder train!
GUN-BULLOCKS
Those heroes in their harnesses avoid a cannon-ball, And what they know of powder upsets them one and all; Then _we_ come into action and tug the guns again,-- Make way there, way for the twenty yoke Of the Forty-Pounder train!
CAVALRY HORSES
By the brand on my withers, the finest of tunes Is played by the Lancers, Hussars, and Dragoons, And it's sweeter than "Stables" or "Water" to me, The Cavalry Canter of "Bonnie Dundee"!
Then feed us and break us and handle and groom, And give us good riders and plenty of room, And launch us in column of squadrons and see The way of the war-horse to "Bonnie Dundee"!
SCREW-GUN MULES
As me and my companions were scrambling up a hill, The path was lost in rolling stones, but we went forward still; For we can wriggle and climb, my lads, and turn up everywhere, And it's our delight on a mountain height, with a leg or two to spare!
Good luck to every sergeant, then, that lets us pick our road; Bad luck to all the driver-men that cannot pack a load: For we can wriggle and climb, my lads, and turn up everywhere, And it's our delight on a mountain height with a leg or two to
spare!
COMMISSARIAT CAMELS
We haven't a camelty tune of our own To help us trollop along, But every neck is a hairy trombone (_Rtt-ta-ta-ta!_ is a hairy trombone!) And this is our marching song: _Can't! Don't! Shan't! Won't!_ Pass it along the line! Somebody's pack has slid from his back, Wish it were only mine! Somebody's load has tipped off in the road-- Cheer for a halt and a row! _Urrr! Yarrh! Grr! Arrh!_ Somebody's catching it now!
ALL THE BEASTS TOGETHER
Children of the Camp are we, Serving each in his degree; Children of the yoke and goad, Pack and harness, pad and load. See our line across the plain, Like a heel-rope bent again. Reaching, writhing, rolling far, Sweeping all away to war! While the men that walk beside, Dusty, silent, heavy-eyed, Cannot tell why we or they March and suffer day by day. _Children of the Camp are we,_ _Serving each in his degree;_ _Children of the yoke and goad,_ _Pack and harness, pad and load._
Transcriber's Notes:
Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.
Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.
Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents ofthe speakers. Those words were retained as-is.
The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break upparagraphs and so that they are next the text they illustrate. Thus thepage number of the illustration might not match the page number in theList of Illustrations, and the order of illustrations may not be thesame in the List of Illustrations and in the book.
On page 78, "Bandar log" was replaced with "Bandar-log".
On page 80, a period was added after "leave to hunt here".
On page 156, "Novastoshna" was replaced with "Novastoshnah".
On page 171, "floam-flecked" was replaced with "foam-flecked".
On page 299, there is a hyphen at the end of a line of poetry. Thathyphen seems to be deliberate, and was kept as-is.
The Jungle Book Page 8