On the Irrawaddy: A Story of the First Burmese War

  Chapter 3: A Prisoner.

  The little group of prisoners received several additions, until thenumber mounted up to twenty. The spot where they were placed wasclose to the bank of the river and, as all were suffering severelyfrom thirst, Stanley asked and obtained permission from the guardto fetch some water. He first knelt down and took a long drink;then he bathed his head and, soaking his handkerchief with water,made it into a pad, placed it on the wound, and put his cap on overit. Then he filled a flask that he carried, and joined hiscompanions. These were permitted to go down, one by one, to theriver to drink and bathe their wounds.

  Stanley had already learned, from them, all they knew of what hadhappened after he had been stunned by the bullet. Two of them hadcrossed the rivulet, before being wounded; and these said that theybelieved all the white officers had been killed, but that theythought most of the troops had got away.

  "It is more than they deserved," Stanley said indignantly. "I don'tsay much about the Mugs. They had very little drill or disciplineand, naturally, were afraid of the Burmese, who had long been theirmasters; but if the sepoys had kept together under their officers,they might all have escaped, for the Burmese would never have beenable to break their ranks."

  "Some of the officers had been killed, and most of them wounded,before the retreat began, sahib," one of the sepoys saidapologetically, "and they were ten to one against us."

  "Yes, I know that; but you who had fought before should have knownwell enough that, as long as you kept together, you could havebeaten them off; and they would have been glad enough to have givenup the pursuit, at last. No doubt they all wanted to have a sharein the plunder of Ramoo."

  "What do you think that they are going to do with us, sahib?"

  "From what they said as they brought me here, I think that we shallbe sent to Ava, or Amarapura. They lie close together, and thecourt is sometimes at one place and sometimes at the other. Whatthey will do with us when we get there, I don't know. They may cutoff our heads, they may put us in prison; anyhow, you may be surethat we shall not have a pleasant time of it.

  "All we have to hope for is that the capture of Rangoon, by ourfleet, may lower their pride and bring them to treat for terms. Itsailed nearly six weeks ago from Calcutta, and was to have beenjoined by one from Madras and, allowing for delays, it ought tohave been at Rangoon a fortnight since, and would certainly capturethe place without any difficulty. So possibly by the time we reachAva we shall find that peace has been made.

  "Still, the Burmese may not consider the loss of Rangoon to beimportant, and may even try to recapture it--which you may be surethey won't do, for I heard at Chittagong that there were sometwenty thousand troops coming; which would be quite enough, ifthere were but good roads and plenty of transport for them, tomarch through Burma from end to end."

  In the evening food was brought to the prisoners and, talking withsome of the Burmese who came up to look at them, Stanley learnedthat Bandoola himself had not accompanied the force across theNaaf, and that it was commanded by the rajahs who ruled the fourprovinces of Aracan. Upon the following morning the prisoners weremarched away, under a strong guard. Six days later they reached thecamp of Bandoola. They were drawn up at a distance from the greatman's tent. He came down, accompanied by a party of officers, tolook at them. He beckoned to Stanley.

  Stanley is brought before Bandoola, the Burmese general.

  "Ask him if he is an officer," he said to an interpreter, standingby his side.

  The man put the question in Hindustani. Stanley replied, inBurmese:

  "I am an officer, your lordship, but a temporary one, only. Iserved in the Mug levy, and was appointed for my knowledge of theirtongue."

  "How is it that you come to speak our language?" Bandoola asked, insurprise.

  "I am a trader, your lordship, but when our trade was put an endto, by the outbreak of the war, I entered the army to serve untilpeace was made. I learned the language from a servant in theservice of my uncle, whose assistant I was."

  The Burmese general was capable of acts of great cruelty, when heconsidered it necessary; but at other times was kindly and goodnatured.

  "He is but a lad," he said to one of his officers, "and he seems abold young fellow. He would be useful as an interpreter to me, forwe shall want to question his countrymen when we make them allprisoners. However, we must send him with the others to Ava, as heis the only officer that we have taken; but I will send a messageto some of my friends, at the court, asking them to represent thatI consider he will be useful to me; and praying that he may be keptfor a time and treated well, and may be forwarded to me, again,when I make my next move against the English."

  The following day the prisoners started under the escort of twentysoldiers, commanded by an officer of some rank, who was speciallycharged to take them safely to Ava. It was a fortnight's march tothe Irrawaddy. Until they neared the river the country was verythinly populated but, when they approached its banks, the villageswere comparatively thick, standing for the most part in clearingsin a great forest. On the march the Burmese officer frequentlytalked with Stanley, asked many questions about England and India;and was evidently surprised, and somewhat sceptical, as to theaccount the lad gave him of the fighting strength of the country.He treated him with considerable indulgence, and sent him dishesfrom his own table.

  When not talking with him, Stanley marched at the head of thelittle party of prisoners--all of whom were sepoys, no quarterhaving been given to the native levies. Of an evening, Stanleyendeavoured to keep up the sepoys' spirits by telling them thatprobably, by this time, the British expedition had arrived atRangoon, and captured it; and that peace would most likely follow,and they might be exchanged for any Burmese who fell into the handsof the English.

  When they reached a village on the banks of the river thepopulation, on seeing them, came round and would have maltreatedthem; had not the officer interfered, and said he had Bandoola'sorders to carry them safely to the court, and that anyoneinterfering with them would be severely punished. The head man ofthe village bent low, on hearing the general's name.

  "I ask your pardon, my lord. The prisoners shall not be touched.But have you heard the news?"

  "I have heard no news," the officer said.

  "It arrived here yesterday, my lord. The barbarians have had theaudacity to sail up, with a great fleet of ships, to Rangoon. Theyhad vessels of war with them and, though our forts fired upon them,they had so many cannon that we could not resist them, and theyhave captured the town. This happened a fortnight since."

  The officer stood thunderstruck at what appeared, to him, to be anact of audacious insolence. However, after a moment's pause, hesaid wrathfully:

  "It is of little matter. The town was weak, and in no position fordefence; but a force will soon go down to sweep these barbariansaway. Now, get ready your war galley, as soon as possible."

  Each village on the river was compelled, by law, to furnish a wargalley for the king's service whenever it might be required. Thesecarried from fifty to a hundred men, and some three hundred ofthese boats were always available for service, and constituted oneof the strongest divisions of the fighting force of the Burmanempire. The village was a large one, and in half an hour the crewof the galley were on board and, rowing forty oars, started up theriver.

  "What think you of this news?" the officer said, beckoning toStanley to take his place in front of him. "These men must be mad,to tempt the anger of the Lord of the Golden Stool, the mightyEmperor. Had you heard aught of this?"

  "I heard but a vague rumour that a fleet had been collected, but Iheard nothing for certain as to its destination."

  "It is madness," the officer repeated. "We shall sweep them intothe sea. How many of them are there, do you think?"

  "As to that I can say little, my lord. I only heard a report thatsome ships and troops were to sail--some from Madras and some fromCalcutta--but of the number of the men and ships, I know nothingfor certain."

  "They have taken ev
il council," the officer said, gravely. "I haveheard that they gained some slight advantage, in Cachar; but therethey had but irregular troops to meet, largely Assamese, who arebut poor cowards. This little success must have turned their heads.They will now have our regular forces to deal with, and these willnumber a hundred thousand--or twice as many, if necessary. Thinkyou that the handful that would be transported in ships can standagainst such a host?"

  "There may be more than you think, my lord. Many of the ships willbe very big, much bigger than those that trade with Rangoon; andsome of them will carry as many as five hundred men."

  "Even so," the officer said scornfully; "if there were twenty-fivesuch ships, or even fifty, the force would be as nothing to us.They will have to take to their vessels, as soon as our armyapproaches."

  "It may be so, sir; but I think that they will scarce go withoutfighting. I would represent to you that, although much fewer innumbers than your army which attacked us, at Ramoo, the troops madea stout fight of it; and that they fought steadily, until the Mugsran away. After that, from what I hear, I admit that they fledshamefully. But the troops that come to Rangoon will be better thanthose were, for there will be white regiments among them; andthough these may, as you say, be overpowered with numbers anddestroyed, I do not think that you will see them running away."

  "And you think that they will really venture to withstand us?

  "I think that they will endeavour to do so."

  "Why, there will scarce be an occasion for fighting," the officersaid, disdainfully. "They were mad to come; they are madder, still,to come now. The rainy season is just at hand. In another week itwill be upon us. The rivers will spread, the flat country will be amarsh. Even we, who are accustomed to it, suffer. In places likeRangoon fever and disease will sweep them away and, when the dryseason comes and our troops assemble to fight them, there will benone left. They will die off like flies. We shall scarce captureenough to send as prisoners to the emperor."

  Stanley felt that, in this respect, the Burman's prophecies werebut too likely to be fulfilled. He knew how deadly were the swampfevers to white men; and that in spite of his comfortable home onboard the dhow and boat, he had himself suffered although, duringthe wet season, his uncle made a point of sailing along the coast,and of ascending only rivers that flowed between high banks andthrough a country free from swamps. He remembered that his unclehad spoken, very strongly, of the folly of the expedition beingtimed to arrive on the coast of Burma at the beginning of the wetseason; and had said that they would suffer terribly from feverbefore they could advance up the country, unless it was intended toconfine the operations to the coast towns, until the dry season setin.

  It would indeed have been impossible to have chosen a worse timefor the expedition but, doubtless, the government of India thoughtchiefly of the necessity for forcing the Burmese to stand on thedefensive, and of so preventing the invasion of India by a vastarmy. Unquestionably, too, they believed that the occupation ofRangoon, and the stoppage of all trade, would show the court of Avathat they had embarked in a struggle with no contemptible foe; andwould be glad to abate their pretensions, and to agree to fairterms of peace.

  The Bengal force that had been embarked consisted of two Britishregiments--the 13th and 38th--a battalion of native infantry, andtwo batteries of European artillery, amounting in all to 2175 men.The Madras force--of which one division was sent on at once, theother was to follow shortly--consisted of the 41st and 89thRegiments, the Madras European regiment, seven battalions of nativeinfantry, and four batteries of artillery, amounting to 9300 men;making a total of 11475 fighting men, of whom nearly five thousandwere Europeans. In addition to the transports, the Bengal force wasaccompanied by a flotilla of twenty gun-brigs and as manyrow-boats, each armed with an eighteen-pounder; the Larne andSophia sloop, belonging to the Royal Navy; several of the Company'scruisers; and the steamboat Diana. General Sir A. Campbell wasappointed to the chief command, and Colonel M'Bean, with the rankof Brigadier General, commanded the Madras force.

  The Bengal squadron sailed from Saugur in the middle of April; andreached the rendezvous, Port Cornwallis, in the Andaman Islands, atthe end of the month. The Madras first division sailed at the sametime, and joined them a few days later; and the whole force, underthe escort of H. M. frigate Liffey and the Slaney, sloop of war,left Port Cornwallis on the 5th of May, and arrived on the 9th atthe mouth of the Irrawaddy.

  Forces were detached for the capture of the islands of Chuduba andNegrais. On the 10th the fleet entered the river and anchoredwithin the bar and, on the following morning, proceeded with theflood tide up to Rangoon, the Liffey and the Larne leading the way.A few shots were fired as they went up the river; but the Burmesewere taken wholly by surprise, the idea that the English wouldventure to invade them never having entered their minds.

  There was considerable disappointment on board the fleet, whenRangoon came into sight. It was situated on the north bank of themain branch of the river, thirty miles from the sea. It extendedabout nine hundred yards along the bank, and was six or sevenhundred yards wide, at its broadest part. Beyond the town were somesuburbs, outside the palisade that inclosed it. The palisades wereten or twelve feet high, strengthened by embankments of earththrown up against them, on the inner side. One face of the defencesran along the river bank, while the others were protected by ashallow creek communicating with the river. The town itselfconsisted, for the most part, of miserable and dirty hovels; and ofa few official buildings of larger size.

  At twelve o'clock the Liffey anchored abreast of the principalbattery, close to the water gate; the transports being ranged in aline in rear of her. A proclamation had been sent on shore, on theprevious day, giving assurances of protection to the people atlarge, and to all who should offer no resistance.

  When the guns of the fleet were loaded, a pause ensued. The townwas evidently incapable of offering resistance, and it was hopedthat it would capitulate. The Burmese were seen standing at theirguns, but they also remained inactive, apparently paralysed at theappearance of this great fleet of vessels--of a size hithertoundreamt of by them--and the threatening guns pointed towards them.However, they were at last goaded, by the orders and threats oftheir officers, to open fire upon the ships.

  The frigate at once replied with a broadside. In a very fewminutes, every gun on shore was silenced, and the Burmese fled inconfusion from their works. As soon as they did so, the signal fordisembarkation was made. The troops crowded into the boats, whichrowed for the shore; and the soldiers entered the town withoutresistance, and found it completely deserted.

  The whole of the population had been driven out by the governor onthe previous day and, according to Burmese custom, the men had allbeen formed into a levy, while the women and children were heldunder guard, as hostages for their husbands and fathers--theirlives being forfeited in case of desertion, or cowardice, by theirmale relations.

  The foreigners in the town had all been seized. They were few innumber, consisting of some eight or ten British traders andAmerican missionaries. These, after being fettered, were taken tothe Custom House prison. They were brought up and tried, early onthe morning of the attack, and were accused of having arranged theassault on the town. They naturally urged that, if they had had theleast knowledge that it was going to be made, they would have leftthe place in time. But the Burmese at once condemned them to death,and they were taken back to the prison to be executed.

  The sentence was not carried out. The Burmese had intended toexecute them on the walls, in sight of their countrymen; and theauthorities had all assembled at the prison for the purpose when,fortunately, a shot from the first broadside fired passed throughthe building, causing an instant stampede. The chiefs at once leftthe city; and the prisoners, heavily chained, were marched somedistance into the country. A party of British troops were, however,pushed forward in advance of the town, as soon as it was occupied;and the guard, in alarm for their own safety, placed the prisonersin a house and made off; and a patrol fo
und them there, on thefollowing morning, and brought them into the town.

  The great pagoda, standing two miles and a half from the town, wasat once occupied as an advanced position by the British. It stoodupon a conical hill, rising seventy-five feet above the plain. Thearea on the top was somewhat over two acres; and in the centre rosethe pagoda, three hundred and thirty-eight feet high.

  Every boat on the river was found to have been removed. In spite ofproclamations promising good treatment, none of the inhabitantsreturned to the town, being prevented from doing so by the Burmeseauthorities and troops. No stores whatever had been found and, tillthe end of the wet season, the army had to depend entirely upon thefleet for provisions; and remained cooped up in the wretched andunhealthy town, suffering severely from fever and malaria.

  The boat in which Stanley and the other prisoners were conveyed waschanged at every village going up the river, as the officer wascarrying the despatches from Bandoola to the court. A flag washoisted as the boat came in sight of a village. This was the signalthat another was required and, within two or three minutes of theirarrival, the prisoners, their guard and officer were on their wayagain.

  Thus they proceeded, night and day and, in four days, arrived atAva. Leaving the prisoners in charge of the guard, the officer atonce proceeded to the palace. In an hour guns were fired, drumsbeat, and the bells of the pagodas rung, to give notice to thepopulation that a great victory had been won over the English, andtheir army annihilated, by Bandoola and his valiant troops. Thisobliterated the impression produced by the news that had arrived, afew days previously, of the landing at Rangoon; and there weregreat rejoicings among the population.

  An officer from the palace presently came down to the boat, and theprisoners were marched through the streets to a jail, amid thejeers of the mob. Stanley was surprised at the meanness of thetown; the great majority of the houses being built of bamboo, andthatched with grass, and having a very poor appearance. The publicbuildings and the houses of the great officers were constructed ofplanks, and tiled; but were heavy and tasteless, and it was onlyupon the innumerable pagodas, in and around the town, that any careseemed to have been bestowed.

  He had wondered much at the numerous pagodas that they had seen,near every town and village, as they passed up; but the officer hadinformed him that these were all private property, and that it wasconsidered the most meritorious of actions to erect one;consequently every man who had means to do so built a pagoda, largeor small in proportion to the sum that he could bestow upon it. OnStanley's remarking upon the great number that were in ruins, theofficer replied that it was considered so much more meritorious anaction to build a pagoda than to repair one that, after the deathof the founder, they were generally suffered to fall into decay.

  For some days the prisoners were taken out, every day, and marchedabout the town for some time, so as to afford the population ocularproof of the victory gained by Bandoola. The place in which theywere confined was small and filthy but, at the end of a week,Stanley was taken out and placed in a room by himself; and here theofficer who had had charge of him paid him a visit, an hour or twolater.

  "I have expressed to the court," he said, "the wishes of thegeneral, and have had permission accorded for you to receivedifferent treatment from the others; partly because you are anofficer, but principally because the general thinks that you may bemade useful to him. I have informed the officer of the prison thatyou are to be at liberty to walk about in the city, when youplease; but that to protect you from violence, an officer and twosoldiers are to accompany you, so long as you may think such aprecaution necessary. I have ordered a dress of our fashion to bebrought to you as, otherwise, you could not go into the streetswithout being mobbed."

  Stanley expressed his gratitude to the officer for obtaining theseindulgences, and the latter replied:

  "I acted upon the orders of the general, but it has been a pleasureto me; for I see that you are a young man of merit, and I havelearned much from you about your people during the journey; andhave seen that, foolish as they have been to undertake to matchthemselves against us, there are yet some things that might belearned from them; and that, if they had remained in their island,many months' journey away from here, they might have been worthy ofour friendship."

  A short time after the officer had left, a soldier brought up somefood of a very much better nature than that with which Stanley hadbeen hitherto supplied. Half an hour later, the dress arrived. Itwas that of a Burmese officer of inferior grade; and consisted of atunic of thick cloth, coming down to the knees; leathern swordbelt; a sort of tippet resembling that of an English coachman, withthree layers of cloth thickly quilted; and a leathern helmet goingup to a point in the centre, with a flap to protect the neck andears. With it were worn tight-fitting stockings of cloth, and lowshoes.

  Presently an officer came in.

  "I am ordered to go out with you, once a day, at whatever hour youmay desire. I am a relative of the officer who brought you here,and he has requested me to look after your safety."

  "I am much obliged to you, sir," Stanley said, "and shall be glad,indeed, to go out to see the city. Your kinsman has kindly sent mea dress; but if I am not to be noticed, it will be necessary for meto stain my face and hands, somewhat."

  "That I have thought of," the officer said, "and have brought withme some dye which will darken your skin. It would be worse thanuseless for you to dress as a Burman, unless you did so; for itwould seem even more singular, to the people in the streets, that awhite man should be seen walking about dressed as an officer, thanthat a white prisoner should be taken through the streets under aguard.

  "I am ready to go out with you now, if you wish it."

  "I shall be ready in a few minutes," Stanley replied and, on beingleft alone, at once changed his attire and stained his face andhands.

  He had just finished when the officer returned. He smiled and said:

  "There is no fear of your being suspected, now; and you mightreally go about safely without a guard, unless you were to enterinto conversation with anyone. You speak the language very well,but your accent is not quite the same as ours, here, though inAracan it would pass unremarked."

  As they went out from the prison, the officer told two soldiers whowere waiting there to follow, at a distance.

  "Do not approach us," he said, "unless I call you up."

  The houses were not constructed in continuous rows, but were veryscattered, each house having its inclosure or garden. Thepopulation was very small, in comparison to the area occupied bythe town. This was divided into two parts--the inner and outertown. The whole was surrounded by a brick wall, five miles and ahalf in circumference, some sixteen feet high and ten feet inthickness, strengthened on the inside by a great bank of earth. Theinner town was inclosed by a separate wall, with a deep ditch ontwo sides, the river Irrawaddy on the third, and a tributary riveron the fourth.

  A considerable portion of the inclosed area was occupied by theroyal quarter; containing the palace, the court of justice, thecouncil chamber, arsenal, and the houses of the ministers and chiefofficials. This was cut off from the rest by a strong andwell-built wall, twenty feet high, outside which was a stockade ofthe same height. The total population of Ava was but 25,000.

  The officer did not take Stanley to the royal quarter, observingthat it was better not to go there as, although he had leave towalk in the town, it might give offence were he to show himselfnear the palace; but after going through the wall, they visited twoor three of the markets, of which there were eleven in the town.

  The markets consisted of thatched huts and sheds, and were wellsupplied with the products of the country. Here were rice, maize,wheat, and various other grains; sticks of sugar cane, tobacco,cotton, and indigo; mangoes, oranges, pineapples, custard apples,and plantains were in abundance; also peacocks, jungle fowl,pigeons, partridges, geese, ducks, and snipes--but little meat wason sale, as the Burman religion forbids the killing of animals forfood. Venison was the only meat
allowed to be sold in the markets;but there were lizards, iguanas, and snakes, which were exposedfreely for sale; and there were large quantities of turtle andtortoise eggs, which had been brought up from the delta.

  Stanley saw that there had really been no great occasion for him tostain his skin, as the people were, for the most part, lighter incolour than the Hindoos. Many of the men had, however, stainedtheir faces to a darker colour; and all were tattooed, more orless. Men, women, and children were all smoking; and frequently,when both hands were required for any purpose, thrust their cigarsinto the large holes bored in the lobes of their ears. Both men andwomen were somewhat short in stature, but squarely built andmuscular and, in the majority of cases, inclined to be fat.

  The men wore a sort of kilt, consisting of a double piece of cloth,wrapped round the body and falling to the knee. Over this was aloose tunic, with sleeves open in front. The headdress was a scantywhite turban.

  The dress of the women was somewhat similar to that of the Hindoos,consisting of a single garment like a sheet wrapped round the body,fastening under the arms and falling to the ankles. Those of theupper classes were more elaborate. The rank among the women wasdistinguished, so Stanley's guide pointed out to him, by the mannerin which the hair was plaited and twisted, and by the ornaments init.

  The men, like the women, wore their hair long but, while the menwore theirs in a knot at the top of the head, the women gathered itin at the back. Their faces were broad at the cheekbones, butnarrowed in sharply, both at the forehead and chin. The narrow andoblique eyes showed the relationship between the Burmese and theirChinese neighbours. They seemed to Stanley a light-hearted, merrypeople, going about their business with much chatter and laughter;and the sound of musical instruments could often be heard, insidethe houses. Several men, in bright yellow garments, mingled withthe crowds in the market. These were priests, the officer told him;and it would be a mortal act of sacrilege, were anyone else to wearthat colour.

  Stanley remarked upon seeing so few soldiers, and the officer toldhim that there was no regular army in Burma. Every man capable ofcarrying arms was obliged to serve in case of war but, with theexception of the king's bodyguard, and a very small body of men whowere police, rather than soldiers, there was no force permanentlykept up. Every man was expected to know something of military duty,and all were able to build stockades. From the fact that the fleshof wild fowl formed one of the principal articles of food, thepeasantry throughout the country were all accustomed to the use ofthe gun, and were fair marksmen.

  "But you yourself are an officer," Stanley said.

  "At present, yes; but tomorrow I may return to my land. It is thesame with the highest minister. One day he may be a trader but, ifrecommended to the king as one possessing ability, straightway heis chosen to be a high official. If he does not please the king, orfails in his duties, then the next day he may be selling cloth inthe bazaar again.

  "Everything is at the will of the king. Nobody is born with fortuneor rank, for everything belongs to the king and, at a man's death,all goes back to him. Thus everyone in the land has an equalchance. In war the bravest becomes a general, in peace thecleverest is chosen as a councillor."

  Walking about, Stanley soon found that there were a great varietyof dialects talked in the streets, and that the language of theBurmese of the coast, of the natives of Pegu and the centralprovince, and of those from districts bordering on the Shan statesor the frontiers of China, differed as widely as those of the mostremote parts of Great Britain did from each other. This being so,he was convinced that there would be no difficulty, whatever, inpassing as a native, without attracting any observation or inquiry,so far as the language went.

  His features and, still more, the shape of his face might, however,be noticed by the first comer, in the daytime. He thought, indeed,that a little tinge of colour in the corner of the eyes, so as tolengthen their appearance and give an oblique cast to them, wouldmake a difference. The general shape of the head was unalterable,but the Burmese nose and mouth did not differ very greatly from theEuropean; except that the nostrils were smaller and, in shape, wereround rather than oval.

  For three weeks he continued the same life, and then the Burmeseofficer, with whom he had now become very friendly, said when heentered one morning:

  "You must not go out today. There is news that your people havemade two forward marches. The first was against a stockade, whichthey took, and killed many of our men; the other time they marchedout four or five miles, had a fight with our troops, and againkilled many. These things have angered the king and the people. Ofcourse it is nothing, for our troops are only beginning toassemble; but it is considered insolent in the extreme, and theking's face is darkened against your countrymen. Four of theprisoners have been taken out this morning and publicly executedand, if the news of another defeat comes, I fear that it will bevery dangerous, even for you."

  "What had I best do, my friend?"

  "I would fain save you, for we have come to know each other; and Isee that there is much good in your ways, though they differgreatly from ours. Were I to take you out, as usual, you might bekilled in the streets; were you to slip away and escape, I shouldassuredly be put to death; but if in any way I can help you, Iwould fain do so. My relation who brought you up here left, afortnight since, to rejoin Bandoola; so his influence cannot serveyou.

  "I do not say that you might not escape from this prison--since youare not, like the others, confined in a dungeon--but I see not whatyou could do, or where you could go. Were you to disappear, orderswould be sent down the river to every village, and every passingcraft would be examined, and you would be sure to be detected;while it would be well-nigh impossible to travel the country onfoot, for it is but thinly inhabited. There are often very longdistances between the villages, and much of the country is swampand forest, without paths; for the village trade goes by the river,and they have little communication with each other.

  "I know that, from what you say, you think that your troops willbeat ours, even when we assemble in large numbers. Were this so, Ifear that there would be little chance of your life being spared.Were it not for that, I should say that, Bandoola havingrecommended you, you would be in no danger here, and had betterremain until peace is made.

  "What think you, yourself?"

  "It is very difficult to reply, at once," Stanley said, "but Ithank you greatly for your offer to befriend me, in any way youcan. I do not say that I had not thought of escape, for I have ofcourse done so. But it seemed to me a thing in the distance; andthat, at any rate until the rains were over and the rivers hadsunk, it would be useless to attempt it. I see, now, that it willbe safest for me to try without delay. If you will come in again,this afternoon, I will tell you what I have thought of."

  "I will do so; and I, myself, will try to think how best the mattercan be managed. We must remember that the great thing is for you tofind concealment, for the present. After the search for you hasbeen made for some time, it will die away; and it will then be theeasiest plan for you to make your way down the river."