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RUDYARD KIPLING
VOLUME II
SOLDIERS THREE
AND MILITARY TALES ifi tfi PARTI
THE WRITINGS IN PROSE AND VERSE OF
RUDYARD KIPLING
SOLDIERS THREE AND MILITARY TALES
PART I
NEW YORK
aB'IB 1898
MULVANEY, ORTHERIS, AND LEAROYD
SOLDIERS THREE
AND MILITARY TALES
PART I
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1898
Copyright, f8gs, By MACMILLAN AND Co.
Copyright, 1897, By RUDYAKD KIPLING
CONTENTS PART I
PAGE
THE THREE MUSKETEERS i
THE TAKING OF LUNGTUNGPEN 10
MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS 19
THE DAUGHTER OF THE REGIMENT ... 32 THE INCARNATION OF KRISHNA MULVANEY 41
THE SOLID MULDOON 83
THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD .... 98
THE GOD FROM THE MACHINE 136
WITH THE MAIN GUARD 150
BLACK JACK 174
ON GREENHOW HILL 202
HIS PRIVATE HONOUR 232
FROM "MANY INVENTIONS."
MY LORD THE ELEPHANT 263
FROM "MANY INVENTIONS."
PRIVATE LEAROYD'S STORY 295
ILLUSTRATIONS
MULVANEY, ORTHERIS AND LEARO YD . FRONTISPIECE THE DAUGHTER OF THE REGIMENT . PAGE 38 MULVANEY AS KRISHNA . . 80
SOLDIERS THREE AND MILITARY TALES PART I
SOLDIERS THREE
THE THREE MUSKETEERS
An* when the war began, we chased the bold Afghan, An' we made the bloomin' Ghazi for to flee, boys O! An' we marched into Ka3#/, an' we tuk the Balar 'Issar An' we taught 'em to respec' the British Soldier.
Barrack Room Ballad.
MULVANEY, Ortheris and Learoyd are Pri- vates in B Company of a Line Regiment, and personal friends of mine. Collectively I think, but am not certain, they are the worst men in the regiment so far as genial blackguardism goes.
They told me this story in the Umballa Re- freshment Room while we were waiting for an up- train. I supplied the beer. The tale was cheap at a gallon and a half.
All men know Lord Benira Trig. He is a Duke, or an Earl, or something unofficial; also a Peer ; also a Globe-trotter. On all three counts, as Ortheris says, '"e didn't deserve no consider- ation." He was out in India for three months
SOLDIERS THREE
collecting materials for a book on " Our Eastern Impedimenta," and quartering himself upon every- body, like a Cossack in evening dress.
His particular vice — because he was a Radical, men said — was having garrisons turned out for his inspection. He would then dine with the Offi- cer Commanding, and insult him, across the Mess table, about the appearance of the troops. That was Benira's way.
He turned out troops once too often. He came to Helanthami Cantonment on a Tuesday. He wished to go shopping in the bazars on Wednes- day, and he " desired " the troops to be turned out on a Thursday. On — a — Thursday. The Offi- cer Commanding could not well refuse ; for Benira was a Lord. There was an indignation-meeting of subalterns in the Mess Room, to call the Colonel pet names.
"But the rale dimonstrashin," said Mulvaney, " was in B Comp'ny barrick ; we three headin' it."
Mulvaney climbed on to the refreshment-bar, settled himself comfortably by the beer, and went on, "Whin the row was at uts foinest an' B Comp'ny was fur goin' out to murther this man Thrigg on the p'rade-groun', Learoyd here takes up his helmut an' sez — fwhat was ut ye said *? "
"Ah said," said Learoyd, " gie us t' brass. Tak oop a subscripshun, lads, for to put off t' p'rade, an' if t' p'rade's not put off, ah'll gie t' brass back
2
THE THREE MUSKETEERS
agean. Thot's wot ah said. All B Coomp'ny knawed me. Ah took oop a big subscripshun — fower rupees eight annas 'twas — an' ah went oot to turn t' job over. Mulvaney an' Orth'ris coom with me."
" We three raises the Divil in couples gin'rally," explained Mulvaney.
Here Ortheris interrupted. " 'Ave you read the papers *? " said he.
" Sometimes," I said.
" We 'ad read the papers, an' we put hup a faked decoity, a — a sedukshun."
"^dukshin, ye cockney," said Mulvaney.
"^dukshun or jfdukshun — no great odds. Any'ow, we arranged to taik an' put Mister Ben- hira out o' the way till Thursday was hover, or 'e too busy to rux 'isself about p'raids. Hi was the man wot said, ' We'll make a few rupees offo' the business.'"
" We hild a Council av War," continued Mul- vaney, " walkin' roun' by the ArtilPry Lines. I was Prisidint, Learoyd was Minister av Finance, an' little Orth'ris here was "
** A bloomin' Bismarck ! Hi made the 'ole show pay."
" This interferin' bit av a Benira man," said Mulvaney, " did the thrick for us himself; for, on me sowl, we hadn't a notion av what was to come afther the next minut. He was shoppin' in the bazar on fut. 'Twas dhrawin' dusk thin, an' we
3
SOLDIERS THREE
stud watchin' the little man hoppin' in an' out av the shops, thryin' to injuce the naygurs to mallum his bat. Prisintly, he sthrols up, his arrums full av thruck, an' he sez in a consiquinshal way, shtick- ing out his little belly, 'Me good men,' sez he, 'have ye seen the Kernel's b'roosh?' — ' B'roosh ? ' says Learoyd. ' There's no b'roosh here — nobbut a bekka.' — 'Fwhat's that?* sez Thrigg. Learoyd shows him wan down the sthreet, an' he sez, ' How thruly Orientil ! I will ride on a bekka.' I saw thin that our Rigimintal Saint was for givin' Thrigg over to us neck an* brisket. I purshued a bekka, an' I sez to the dhriver-divil, I sez, ' Ye black limb, there's a Sahib comin' for this bekka. He wants to go jildi to the Padsahi Jhil '
— 'twas about tu moiles away — ' to shoot snipe - ckirria. You dhrive Jebannum ke marfik, mallum
— like Hell? 'Tis no manner av use bukUrf to the Sahib, bekaze he doesn't samjao your talk. Av he bolos anything, just you cboop and cbel. Dekker ? Go arsty for the first order-mile from cantonmints. Thin cbel, Sbattan ke marfik, an' the chooper you cboops an' the jildier you cbels the better koosby will that Sahib be ; an' here's a rupee for ye.'
" The bekka-msai knew there was somethin' out av the common in the air. He grinned an' sez, 'Bate acbee! I goin' damn fast.' I prayed that the Kernel's b'roosh wudn't arrive till me darlin' Benira by the grace av God was undher weigh.
4
THE THREE MUSKETEERS
The little man puts his thruck into the hekka an' scuttles in like a fat guinea-pig ; niver offerin' us the price av a dhrink for our services in helpin' him home. ' He's off to the Padsahi Jhil,' sez I to the others."
Ortheris took up the tale.
" Jist then, little Buldoo kim up, 'oo was the son of one of the Artillery grooms — 'e would 'ave made a 'evinly newspaper-boy in London, bein' sharp an' fly to all manner o' games. 'E 'ad bin watchin' us puttin' Mister Benhira into 'is tem- porary baroush, an' 'e sez, ' What 'ave you been a doin' of, Sahibs?' sez 'e. Learoyd 'e caught 'im by the ear an 'e sez — "
" Ah says," went on Learoyd, " ' Young mon, that mon's gooin' to have t' goons out o* Thurs- day — to-morrow — an thot's more work for you, young mon. Now, sitha, tak' a tat an' a lookri, an' ride tha domdest to t' Padsahi Jhil. Cotch thot there hekka, and tell t' driver in your lingo thot you've coom to tak' his place. T' Sahib doesn't speak t' bat, an' he's a little mon. Drive t' bekka into t' Padsahi Jhil into t' watter. Leave t' Sahib theer an' roon hoam ; an' here's a rupee for tha.' "
Then Mulvaney and Ortheris spoke together in alternate fragments: Mulvaney leading [You must pick out the two speakers as best you can] : — " He was a knowin' little divil was Bhuldoo, — 'e sez bate achee an' cuts — wid a wink in his oi
SOLDIERS THREE
— but Hi sez there's money to be made — an' I wanted to see the ind av the campaign — so Hi says we'll double hout to the Padsahi Jhil — an' save the little man from bein' dacoited by the murtherin' Bhuldoo — an' turn hup like reskooers in a Vic'oria Melodrama — so we doubled for the jbilt an' prisintly there was the divil av a hurroosh behind us an' three bhoys on grasscuts' ponies come by, poundin' along for the dear life — s'elp me Bob, hif Buldoo 'adn't raised a rig'lar harmy of deceits — to do the job in shtile. An' we ran, an' they ran, shplittin' with laughin', till we gets near the jtril — and 'ears sounds of distress floatin' mol- loncolly on the hevenin' hair." [Ortheris was grow- ing poetical under the influence of the beer. The duet recommenced : Mulvaney leading again.]
"Thin we heard Bhuldoo, the dacoit, shoutin' to the hekka man, an' wan of the young divils brought his stick down on the top av the hekka- cover, an' Benira Thrigg inside howled ' Murther an' Death.' Bhuldoo takes the reins and dhrives like mad for the foil, havin' dishpersed the hekka- dhriver — 'oo come up to us an' 'e sez, sez 'e, 4 That Sahib's nigh mad with funk ! Wot devil's work 'ave you led me into ? ' — * Hall right,' sez we, 'you catch that there pony an' come along. This Sahib's been decoited, an' we're goin' to resky 'im ! ' Says the driver, * Deceits ! Wot decoits ? That's Buldoo the budmash ' — ' Bhuldoo be shot ! '
6
THE THREE MUSKETEERS
sez we. ' 'Tis a woild dissolute Pathan frum the hills. There's about eight av thim coercin' the Sahib. You remimbir that an' you'll get another rupee!' Thin we heard the whop-whop-who-p av the bekka turnin' over, an' a splash av water, an' the voice av Benira Thrigg callin' upon God to for- give his sins — an' Buldoo an' 'is friends squotterin' in the water like boys in the Serpentine."
Here the Three Musketeers retired simultane- ously into the beer.
" Well ? What came next ? " said I.
"Fwhat nex"?" answered Mulvaney, wiping his mouth. " Wud ye let three bould sodger- bhoys lave the ornamint av the House av Lords to be dhrowned an' dacoited in a jhil ? We formed line av quarther-column an' we discinded upon the inimy. For the better part av tin minutes you could not hear yerself spake. The tattoo was screamin' in chune wid Benira Thrigg an' Bhul- doo's army, an' the shticks was whistlin' roun' the bekka, an' Orth'ris was beatin' the bekka-cover wid his fistes, an' Learoyd yellin', * Look out for their knives!' an' me cuttin' into the dark, right an' lef', dishpersin' arrmy corps av Pathans. Holy Mother av Moses! 'twas more disp'rit than Ah mid Kheyl wid Maiwund thrown in. Afther a while Bhuldoo an' his bhoys flees. Have ye iver seen a rale live Lord thryin' to hide his nobility undher a fut an' a half av brown swamp-wather ? 'Tis the
7
SOLDIERS THREE
livin' image av a water-carrier's goatskin wid the shivers. It tuk toime to pershuade me frind Benira he was not disimbowilled : an* more toime to get out the hekka. The dhriver come up afther the battle, swear in' he tuk a hand in repulsin' the inimy. Benira was sick wid the fear. We es- corted him back, very slow, to cantonmints, for that an' the chill to soak into him. It suk ! Glory be to the Rigimintal Saint, but it suk to the mar- row av Lord Benira Thrigg ! "
Here Ortheris, slowly, with immense pride — " 'E sez, ' You har my noble preservers,' sez 'e. 4 You har a honour to the British Harmy,' sez 'e. With that he describes the hawful band of decoits wot set on 'im. There was about forty of 'em, an* 'e was hoverpowered by numbers, so 'e was; but *e never lorst 'is presence of mind, so 'e didn't. 'E guv the bekka-driver five rupees for 'is noble assistance, an* 'e said 'e would see to us after 'e 'ad spoken to the Kernul. For we was a honour to the Regiment, we was."
" An' we three," said Mulvaney, with a seraphic smile, " have dhrawn the par-ti-cu-lar attinshin av Bobs Bahadur more than wanst. But he's a rale good little man, is Bobs. Go on, Orth'ris, my son."
" Then we leaves 'im at the Kernul's 'ouse, werry sick, an' we cuts hover to B Comp'ny bar- rick, an' we sez we 'ave saved Benhira from a
8
THE THREE MUSKETEERS
bloody doom, an' the chances was agin there bein' p'raid on Thursday. About ten minutes later come three envelicks, one for each of us. S'elp me Bob, if the old bloke 'adn't guv us a fiver apiece — sixty-four rupees in the bazar ! On Thursday 'e was in 'orspital recoverin' from 'is sanguinary encounter with a gang of Pathans, an' B Comp'ny was drinkin' 'emselves into Clink by squads. So there never was no Thursday p'raid. But the Kernul, when 'e 'card of our galliant con- duct, 'e sez, ' Hi know there's been some devilry somewheres,' sez 'e, ' but I can't bring it 'ome to you three.' "
"An' my privit imprisshin is," said Mulvaney, getting off the bar and turning his glass upside down, " that, av they had known, they wudn't have brought ut home. 'Tis flyin' in the face, firstly av Nature, secon' av the Rig'lations, an' third the will av Terence Mulvaney, to hold p'rades av Thursdays."
" Good, ma son ! " said Learoyd ; " but, young mon, what's t' notebook for *? "
"Let be," said Mulvaney; "this time next month we're in the Sherapis. 'Tis immortial fame the gentleman's goin' to give us. But kape it dhark till we're out av the range av me little frind Bobs Bahadur."
And I have obeyed Mulvaney's order.
THE TAKING OF LUNGTUNGPEN
So we loosed a bloomin' volley, An' we made the beggars cut, An* when our pouch was emptied out, We used the bloomin' butt, Ho ! My ! Don't yer come anigh,
When Tommy is a playin' with the baynit an* the butt.
Barrack Room Ballad.
MY friend Private Mulvaney told me this, sitting on the parapet of the road to Dagshai, when we were hunting butterflies together. He had theo- ries about the Army, and coloured clay pipes per- fectly. He said that the young soldier is the best to work with, " on account av the surpassing inno- cinse av the child."
" Now, listen ! " said Mulvaney, throwing him- self full length on the wall in the sun. " I'm a born scutt av the barrick-room ! The Army's mate an' dhrink to me, bekaze I'm wan av the few that can't quit ut. I've put in sivinteen years, an' the pipeclay's in the marrow av me. Av I cud have kept out av wan big dhrink a month, I wud have been a Hon'ry Lift'nint by this time — a
10
THE TAKING OF LUNGTUNGPEN
nuisince to my betthers, a laughin'-shtock to my equils, an' a curse to mesel£ Bein' fwhat I am, I'm Privit Mulvaney, wid no good-conduc' pay an' a devourin' thirst. Always barrin' me little frind Bobs Bahadur, I know as much about the Army as most men."
I said something here.
"Wolseley be shot! Betune you an' me an' that butterfly net, he's a ramblin', incoherint sort av a divil, wid wan oi on the Quane an' the Coort, an' the other on his blessed silf — everlastin'ly playing Saysar an' Alexandrier rowled into a lump. Now Bobs is a sinsible little man. Wid Bobs an' a few three-year-olds, I'd swape any army av the earth into a towel, an' throw it away afther- wards. Faith, I'm not jokin' ! 'Tis the bhoys — the raw bhoys — that don't know fwhat a bullut manes, an' wudn't care av they did — that dhu the work. They're crammed wid bull-mate till they fairly ramps wid good livin'; and thin, av they don't fight, they blow each other's hids off. 'Tis the trut' I'm tellin' you. They shud be kept on water an' rice in the hot weather ; but there'd be a mut'ny av 'twas done.
"Did ye iver hear how Privit Mulvaney tuk the town av Lungtungpen *? I thought not ! 'Twas the Lift'nint got the credit; but 'twas me planned the schame. A little before I was inviladed from Burma, me an' four-an'-twenty young wans un-
11
SOLDIERS THREE
dher a Lift'nint Brazenose, was ruinin' our dijeshins thryin* to catch dacoits. An' such double-ended divils I niver knew ! JTis only a dab an' a Snider that makes a dacoit Widout thim, he's a paceful cultivator, an' felony for to shoot. We hunted, an' we hunted, an' tuk fever an' elephints now an' again; but no dacoits. Evenshually, we puckarffwed wan man. * Trate him tinderly,' sez the Lift'nint. So I tuk him away into the jungle, wid the Bur- mese Interprut'r an' my clanin'-rod. Sez I to the man, * My paceful squireen,' sez I, * you shquot on your hunkers an* dimonstrate to my frind here, where your frinds are whin they're at home.' Wid that I introjuced him to the clanin'-rod, an' he comminst to jabber; the Interprut'r interprutin' in betweens, an' me helpin' the Intilligince De- partmint wid my clanin'-rod whin the man misre- mimbered.
" Prisintly, I leam that, acrost the river, about nine miles away, was a town just dhrippin' wid dahs, an' bohs an' arrows, an' dacoits, an' elephints, an' jingles. • Good ! ' sez I ; ' this office will now close ! '
" That night, I went to the Lift'nint an' com- municates my information. I never thought much of Lift'nint Brazenose till that night. He was shtifF wfd books an' the-ouries, an' all manner av thrimmin's no manner av use. 'Town did ye say?' sez he. 'Accordin* to the the-ouries av
12
THE TAKING OF LUNGTUNGPEN
War, we shud wait for reinforcemints.' — ' Faith ! ' thinks I, ' we'd betther dig our graves thin' ; for the nearest throops was up to their shtocks in the marshes out Mimbu way. 'But,' says the Lift'- nint, 'since 'tis a speshil case, I'll make an ex- cepshin. We'll visit this Lungtungpen to-night.'
" The bhoys was fairly woild wid deloight whin I tould 'em; an', by this an' that, they wint through the jungle like buck-rabbits. About midnight we come to the shtrame which I had clane forgot to minshin to my orficer. I was on, ahead, wid four bhoys, an* I thought that the Lift'nint might want to the-ourise. ' Shtrip, bhoys ! ' sez I. 'Shtrip to the buff, an' shwim in where glory waits ! ' — ' But I can't shwim ! ' sez two av thim. ' To think I should live to hear that from a bhoy wid a board-school edukashin ! ' sez I. ' Take a lump av thimber, an' me an' Conolly here will ferry ye over, ye young ladies ! '
" We got an ould tree-trunk, an' pushed off wid the kits an' the rifles on it. The night was chokin' dhark, an' just as we was fairly embarked I heard the Lift'nint behind av me callin' out. ' There's a bit av a nullah here, Sorr,' sez I, 'but I can feel the bottom already.' So I cud, for I was not a yard from the bank.
" ' Bit av a nullah ! Bit av an eshtuary ! ' sez the Lift'nint. 'Go on, ye mad Irishman! Shtrip bhoys ! ' I heard him laugh ; an' the bhoys begun
SOLDIERS THREE
shtrippin' an' rollin' a log into the wather to put their kits on. So me an' Conolly shtruck out through the warm wather wid our log, an' the rest come on behind.
" That shtrame was miles woide ! Orth'ris, on the rear-rank log, whispers we had got into the Thames below Sheerness by mistake. * Kape on shwimmin', ye little blayguard,' sez I, ' an' don't go pokin' your dirty jokes at the Irriwaddy.' — 'Silince, men!' sings out the Lift'nint. So we shwum on into the black dhark, wid our chests on the logs, trustin' in the Saints an' the luck av the British Army.
" Evenshually, we hit ground — a bit av sand — an' a man. I put my heel on the back av him. He skreeched an' ran.
" 'Now we've done it ! ' sez Lift'nint Brazenose. ' Where the divil is Lungtungpen *? ' There was about a minute and a half to wait. The bhoys laid a hould av their rifles an' some thried to put their belts on ; we was marchin' wid fixed baynits av coorse. Thin we knew where Lungtungpen was; for we had hit the river-wall av it in the dhark, an' the whole town blazed wid thim messin' jingles an' Sniders like a cat's back on a frosty night. They was firin' all ways at wanst; but over our hids into the shtrame.
" ' Have you got your rifles ? ' sez Brazenose. 4 Got 'em ! ' sez Orth'ris. ' I've got that thief Mul-
14
THE TAKING OF LUNGTUNGPEN
vaney's for all my back-pay, an' she'll kick my heart sick wid that blunderin' long shtock av hers.' — * Go on ! ' yells Brazenose, whippin' his sword out. ' Go on an' take the town ! An' the Lord have mercy on our sowls ! '
" Thin the bhoys gave wan divastatin' howl, an' pranced into the dhark, feelin' for the town, an' blindin' an' stiffin' like Cavalry Ridin' Masters whin the grass pricked their bare legs. I ham- mered wid the butt at some bamboo-thing that felt wake, an' the rest come an' hammered conta- gious, while the jingles was jingling, an' feroshus yells from inside was shplittin' our ears. We was too close under the wall for thim to hurt us.
" Evenshually, the thing, whatever ut was, bruk; an' the six-and-twinty av us tumbled, wan after the other, naked as we was borrun, into the town of Lungtungpen. There was a melly av a sumpshus kind for a whoile ; but whether they tuk us, all white an' wet, for a new breed av divil, or a new kind av dacoit, I don't know. They ran as though we was both, an' we wint into thim, baynit an' butt, shriekin' wid laughin'. There was torches in the shtreets, an' I saw little. Orth'ris rubbin' his showlther ivry time he loosed my long-shtock Martini ; an' Brazenose walkin' into the gang wid his sword, like Diarmid av the Gowlden Collar — barring he hadn't a stitch av clothin' on him. We diskivered elephtnts wid dacoits under their bel-
15
SOLDIERS THREE
lies, an', what wid wan thing an' another, we was busy till mornin' takin' possession av the town of Lungtungpen.
"Thin we halted an' formed up, the wimmen howlin' in the houses an' Lift'nint Brazenose blushin' pink in the light av the mornin' sun. 'Twas the most ondasint p'rade I iver tuk a hand in. Foive-and-twinty privits an' a orficer av the Line in review ordher, an' not as much as wud dust a fife betune 'em all in the way of clothin' ! Eight av us had their belts an' pouches on; but the rest had gone in wid a handful av cartridges an' the skin God gave thim. ^fbey was as nakid as Vanus.
" * Number off from the right ! ' sez the Lift'nint. *Odd numbers fall out to dress; even numbers pathrol the town till relieved by the dressing party.' Let me tell you, pathrollin' a town wid nothing on is an ex^zjmence. I pathrolled for tin minutes, an' begad, before 't was over, I blushed. The wimmen laughed so. I niver blushed before or since ; but I blushed all over my carkiss thin. Orth'ris didn't pathrol. He sez only, ' Portsmith Barricks an' the 'Ard av a Sunday ! ' Thin he lay down an' rowled any ways wid laughin'.
" Whin we was all dhressed we counted the dead — sivinty-foive dacoits besides wounded. We tuk five elephints, a hundher' an' sivinty Sni- ders, two hundher' dahs, and a lot av other bur-
16
THE TAKING OF LUNGTUNGPEN
glarious thruck. Not a man av us was hurt — excep' maybe the Lift'nint, an' he from the shock to his dasincy.
" The Headman av Lungtungpen, who surrin- der'd himself, asked the Interprut'r — 'Av the English fight like that wid their clo'es off, what in the wurruld do they do wid their clo'es on ? * Orth'ris began rowlin' his eyes an' crackin' his fingers an' dancin' a step-dance for to impress the Headman. He ran to his house ; an' we spint the rest av the day carryin' the Lift'nint on our showl- thers round the town, an' playin' wid the Burmese babies — fat little, brown little divils, as pretty as picturs.
" Whin I was inviladed for the dysent'ry to In- dia, I sez to the Lift'nint, 'Sorr,' sez I, 'you've the makin's in you av a great man ; but, av you'll let an ould sodger spake, you're too fond of the- ourisinV He shuk hands wid me and sez, * Hit high, hit low, there's no plasin' you, Mulvaney. You've seen me waltzin' through Lungtungpen like a red Injin widout the war-paint, an' you say I'm too fond av the-ourisin' ? ' ' Sorr,' sez I, for I loved the bhoy, * I wud waltz wid you in that condishin through Hell, an' so wud the rest av the men ! ' Thin I wint downshtrame in the flat an' left him my blessin*. May the Saints carry ut where ut shud go, for he was a fine upstandin' young orficer.
17
SOLDIERS THREE
" To reshume. Fwhat I've said jist shows the use av three-year-olds. Wud fifty seasoned sodgers have taken Lungtungpen in the dhark that way ? No! They'd know the risk av fever and chill. Let alone the shootin'. Two hundher' might have done ut. But the three-year-olds know little an' care less; an' where there's no fear, there's no danger. Catch thim young, feed thim high, an' by the honour av that great little man Bobs, be- hind a good orficer 'tisn't only dacoits they'd smash wid their clo'es off — 'tis Con-ti-nental Ar-r-r-mies! They tuk Lungtungpen nakid ; an' they'd take St. Pethersburg in their dhrawers ! Begad, they would that!
" Here's your pipe, Sorr. Shmoke her tinderly wid honey-dew, afther letting the reek av the Can- teen plug die away. But 'tis no good, thanks to you all the same, fillin' my pouch wid your chopped hay. Canteen 'baccy's like the Army. It shpoils a man's taste for moilder things."
So saying, Mulvaney took up his butterfly-net, and returned to barracks.
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MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS
Oh ! Where would I be when my froat was dry ? Oh ! Where would I be when the bullets fly ? Oh ! Where would I be when I come to die ?
Why, Somewheres anigh my chum.
If 'e's liquor Vll give me some,
If I'm dyin' Vll 'old my 'ead,
An' 'e'll write 'em 'Ome when I'm dead. —
Gawd send us a trusty chum !
Barrack Room Ballad.
MY friends Mulvaney and Ortheris had gone on a shooting-expedition for one day. Learoyd was still in hospital, recovering from fever picked up in Burma. They sent me an invitation to join them, and were genuinely pained when I brought beer — almost enough beer to satisfy two Privates of the Line . . . and Me.
" 'Twasn't for that we bid you welkim, Sorr," said Mulvaney sulkily. " 'Twas for the pleasure av your comp'ny."
Ortheris came to the rescue with — " Well, 'e won't be none the worse for bringin' liquor with 'im. We ain't a file o' Books. We're bloomin'
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SOLDIERS THREE
Tommies, ye cantankris Hirishman ; an' 'ere's your very good 'ealth ! "
We shot all the forenoon, and killed two pariah- dogs, four green parrots sitting, one kite by the burning-ghaut, one snake flying, one mud-turtle, and eight crows. Game was plentiful. Then we sat down to tiffin — "bull-mate an' bran-bread," Mulvaney called it — by the side of the river, and took pot shots at the crocodiles in the intervals of cutting up the food with our only pocket-knife. Then we drank up all the beer, and threw the bottles into the water and fired at them. After that, we eased belts and stretched ourselves on the warm sand and smoked. We were too lazy to continue shooting.
Ortheris heaved a big sigh, as he lay on his stomach with his head between his fists. Then he swore quietly into the blue sky.
" Fwhat's that for ? " said Mulvaney. " Have ye not drunk enough ? "
" Tott'nim Court Road, an' a gal I fancied there. Wot's the good of sodgerin' ? "
" Orth'ris, me son," said Mulvaney hastily, " 'tis more than likely you've got throuble in your in- side wid the beer. I feel that way mesilf whin my liver gets rusty."
Ortheris went on slowly, not heeding the inter- ruption —
" I'm a Tommy — a bloomin', eight-anna, dog- 20
MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS
steal '.n' Tommy, with a number instead of a decent name. Wot's the good o' me ? If I 'ad a stayed at 'Ome, I might a married that gal and a kep' a little shorp in the 'Ammersmith 'Igh. — 'S. Orth'ris, Prac-ti-cal Taxi-der-mist.' With a stufP fox, like they 'as in the Haylesbury Dairies, in the winder, an' a little case of blue and yaller glass-heyes, an' a little wife to call * shorp ! ' * shorp ! ' when the door-bell rung. As it his, I'm on'y a Tommy — a Bloomin', Gawd-forsaken, Beer-swillin' Tommy. 'Rest on your harms — 'versed; Stan' at — bease ; 'Shun. 'Verse — harms. Right an' lef — tarrn. Slow — march. 'Alt — front. Rest on your harms — 'versed. With blank cartridge — load? An' that's the end o' me." He was quoting fragments from Funeral Parties' Orders.
" Stop ut ! " shouted Mulvaney. " Whin you've fired into nothin' as often as me, over a better man than yoursilf, you will not make a mock av thim orders. 'Tis worse than whistlin' the 'Dead March' in barricks. An' you full as a tick, an' the sun cool, an' all an' all ! I take shame for you. You're no better than a Pagin — you an' your firin'-parties an' your glass-eyes. Won't you stop ut, Sorr?"
What could I do ? Could I tell Ortheris any- thing that he did not know of the pleasures of his life ? I was not a Chaplain nor a Subaltern, and Ortheris had a right to speak as he thought fit.
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SOLDIERS THREE
"Let him run, Mulvaney," I said. "It's the beer."
" No ! Tisn't the beer," said Mulvaney. " I know fwhat's comin'. He's tuk this way now an' agin, an' it's bad — it's bad — for I'm fond av the bhoy."
Indeed, Mulvaney seemed needlessly anxious; but I knew that he looked after Ortheris in a fatherly way.
"Let me talk, let me talk," said Ortheris dreamily. " D'you stop your parrit screamin' of a 'ot day, when the cage is a-cookin' 'is pore little pink toes orf, Mulvaney ? "
" Pink toes ! D'ye mane to say you've pink toes undher your bulls wools, ye blandanderin' " — Mulvaney gathered himself together for a ter- rific denunciation — " school-misthress ! Pink toes! How much Bass wid the label did that ravin' child dhrink?"
"'Taint Bass," said Ortheris. "It's a bitterer beer nor that. It's 'ome-sickness ! "
" Hark to him ! An' he goin' Home in the Skerapis in the inside av four months!,"
" I don't care. It's all one to me. 'Ow d'you know I ain't 'fraid o' dyin' 'fore I gets my dis- charge paipers?" He recommenced, in a sing- song voice, the Orders.
I had never seen this side of Ortheris' character before, but evidently Mulvaney had, and attached
22
MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS
serious importance to it. While Ortheris babbled, with his head on his arms, Mulvaney whispered to me —
" He's always tuk this way whin he's been checked overmuch by the childher they make Sar- jints nowadays. That an' havin' nothin' to do. I can't make ut out anyways."
"Well, what does it matter*? Let him talk himself through."
Ortheris began singing a parody of " The Ram- rod Corps," full of cheerful allusions to battle, murder, and sudden death. He looked out across the river as he sang ; and his face was quite strange to me. Mulvaney caught me by the elbow to ensure attention.
"Matrher? It matthers everything ! 'Tissome sort av fit that's on him. I've seen ut. ' Twill hould him all this night, an' in the middle av it he'll get out av his cot an' go rakin' in the rack for his 'coutremints. Thin he'll come over to me an' say, ' I'm goin' to Bombay. Answer for me in the mornin'.' Thin me an' him will fight as we've done before — him to go an' me to hould him — an' so we'll both come on the books for disturbin' in barricks. I've belted him, an' I've bruk his head, an' I've talked to him, but 'tis no manner av use whin the fit's on him. He's as good a bhoy as ever stepped whin his mind's clear. I know fwhat's comin', though, this night in bar-
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SOLDIERS THREE
ricks. Lord send he doesn't loose on me whin I rise to knock him down. 'Tis that that's in my mind day an' night."
This put the case in a much less pleasant light, and fully accounted for Mulvaney's anxiety. He seemed to be trying to coax Ortheris out of the fit ; for he shouted down the bank where the boy was lying —
" Listen now, you wid the ' pore pink toes ' an' the glass eyes! Did you shwim the Irriwaddy at night, behin' me, as a bhoy shud; or were you hidin' under a bed, as you was at Ahmid Kheyl?"
This was at once a gross insult and a direct lie, and Mulvaney meant it to bring on a fight. But Ortheris seemed shut up in some sort of trance. He answered slowly, without a sign of irritation, in the same cadenced voice as he had used for his firing-party orders —
"Hi swum the Irriwaddy in the night as you know, for to take the town of Lungtungpen, nakid an' without fear. Hand where I was at Ahmed Kheylyou know, and four bloomin' Pathans know too. But that was summat to do, an* I didn't think o' dyin'. Now I'm sick to go 'Ome — go 'Ome — go 'Ome ! No, I ain't mammysick, because my uncle brung me up, but I'm sick for London again ; sick for the sounds of 'er, an' the sights of 'er, and the stinks of 'er ; orange-peel and hasphalte
MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS
an' gas comin' in over Vaux'all Bridge. Sick for the rail goin' down to Box '111 with your gal on your knee an' a new clay pipe in your face. That, an' the Stran' lights where you knows ev'ry one, an' the Copper that takes you up is a old friend that tuk you up before, when you was a little, smitchy boy lying loose 'tween the Temple an' the Dark Marches. No bloomin' guard-mountin', no bloomin' rotten-stone, nor khaki, an' yourself your own master with a gal to take an' see the Human- ers practisin' a-hookin' dead corpses out of the Serpentine o' Sundays. An' I lef' all that for to serve the Widder beyond the seas, where there ain't no women and there ain't no liquor worth 'avin', and there ain't nothin' to see, nor do, nor say, nor feel, nor think. Lord love you, Stanley Orth'ris, but you're a bigger bloomin' fool than the rest o' the reg'ment and Mulvaney wired together! There's the Widder sittin' at 'Ome with a gold crownd on 'er 'ead; and 'ere am Hi, Stanley Orth'ris, the Widder's property, a rottin' FOOL ! "
His voice rose at the end of the sentence, and he wound up with a six-shot Anglo- Vernacular oath. Mulvaney said nothing, but looked at me as if he expected that I could bring peace to poor Ortheris' troubled brain.
I remembered once at Rawal Pindi having seen a man, nearly mad with drink, sobered by being
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SOLDIERS THREE
made a fool of. Some regiments may know what I mean. I hoped that we might slake off Ortheris in the same way, though he was perfectly sober. So I said —
" What's the use of grousing there, and speak- ing against the Widow ? "
"I didn't!" said Ortheris. "S'elp me Gawd, I never said a word agin 'er, an' I wouldn't — not if I was to desert this minute ! "
Here was my opening. " Well, you meant to, anyhow. What's the use of cracking-on for nothing? Would you slip it now if you got the chance ? "
" On'y try me ! " said Ortheris, jumping to his feet as if he had been stung.
Mulvaney jumped too. " Fwhat are you going to do ? " said he.
"Help Ortheris down to Bombay or Karachi, whichever he likes. You can report that he sep- arated from you before tiffin, and left his gun on the bank here ! "
" I'm to report that — am I *? " said Mulvaney slowly. " Very well. If Orth'ris manes to desert now, and will desert now, an' you, Sorr, who have been a frind to me an' to him, will help him to ut, I, Terence Mulvaney, on my oath which I've never bruk yet, will report as you say. But — " here he stepped up to Ortheris, and shook the stock of the fowling-piece in his face — "your
26
MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS
fistes help you, Stanley Orth'ris, if ever I come across you agin ! "
" I don't care ! " said Ortheris. " I'm sick o' this dorg's life. Give me a chanst. Don't play with me. Le' me go ! "
" Strip," said I, " and change with me, and then I'll tell you what to do."
I hoped that the absurdity of this would check Ortheris ; but he had kicked off his ammunition- boots and got rid of his tunic almost before I had loosed my shirt-collar. Mulvaney gripped me by the arm —
" The fit's on him : the fit's workin' on him still ! By my Honour and Sowl, we shall be accessiry to a desartion yet. Only twenty-eight days, as you say, Sorr, or fifty-six, but think o' the shame — the black shame to him an' me ! " I had never seen Mulvaney so excited.
But Ortheris was quite calm, and as soon as he had exchanged clothes with me, and I stood up a Private of the Line, he said shortly, " Now ! Come on. What nex' ? D'ye mean fair *? What must I do to get out o' this 'ere a-Hell ? "
I told him that, if he would wait for two or three hours near the river, I would ride into the Station and come back with one hundred rupees. He would, with that money in his pocket, walk to the nearest side-station on the line, about five miles away, and would there take a first-class ticket for
2?
SOLDIERS THREE
Karachi. Knowing that he had no money on him when he went out shooting, his regiment would not immediately wire to the seaports, but would hunt for him in the native villages near the river. Further, no one would think of seeking a deserter in a first-class carriage. At Karachi he was to buy white clothes and ship, if he could, on a cargo- steamer.
Here he broke in. If I helped him to Karachi, he would arrange all the rest. Then I ordered him to wait where he was until it was dark enough for me to ride into the Station without my dress being noticed. Now God in His wisdom has