No More Learning

Pornic, who was standing a few yards away, was naturally a good deal
exhausted, but had not hurt himself in the least. His saddle, a favorite
polo one, was much knocked about, and had been twisted under his belly.
It took me some time to put him to rights, and in the meantime I had
ample opportunities of observing the spot into which I had so foolishly
dropped.

At the risk of being considered tedious, I must describe it at length:
inasmuch as an accurate mental picture of its peculiarities will be of
material assistance in enabling the reader to understand what follows.

Imagine then, as I have said before, a horseshoe-shaped crater of sand
with steeply graded sand walls about thirty-five feet high. (The slope,
I fancy, must have been about 65 degrees. ) This crater enclosed a level
piece of ground about fifty yards long by thirty at its broadest part,
with a crude well in the centre. Round the bottom of the crater,
about three feet from the level of the ground proper, ran a series of
eighty-three semi-circular ovoid, square, and multilateral holes, all
about three feet at the mouth. Each hole on inspection showed that it
was carefully shored internally with drift-wood and bamboos, and over
the mouth a wooden drip-board projected, like the peak of a jockey's
cap, for two feet. No sign of life was visible in these tunnels, but a
most sickening stench pervaded the entire amphitheatre--a stench fouler
than any which my wanderings in Indian villages have introduced me to.

Having remounted Pornic, who was as anxious as I to get back to camp, I
rode round the base of the horseshoe to find some place whence an exit
would be practicable. The inhabitants, whoever they might be, had not
thought fit to put in an appearance, so I was left to my own devices. My
first attempt to "rush" Pornic up the steep sand-banks showed me that
I had fallen into a trap exactly on the same model as that which the
ant-lion sets for its prey. At each step the shifting sand poured down
from above in tons, and rattled on the drip-boards of the holes like
small shot. A couple of ineffectual charges sent us both rolling down to
the bottom, half choked with the torrents of sand; and I was constrained
to turn my attention to the river-bank.
Here everything seemed easy enough. The sand hills ran down to the river
edge, it is true, but there were plenty of shoals and shallows across
which I could gallop Pornic, and find my way back to terra firma by
turning sharply to the right or left. As I led Pornic over the sands I
was startled by the faint pop of a rifle across the river; and at the
same moment a bullet dropped with a sharp "whit" close to Pornic's head.

There was no mistaking the nature of the missile-a regulation
Martini-Henry "picket. " About five hundred yards away a country-boat was
anchored in midstream; and a jet of smoke drifting away from its bows in
the still morning air showed me whence the delicate attention had come.
Was ever a respectable gentleman in such an impasse? The treacherous
sand slope allowed no escape from a spot which I had visited most
involuntarily, and a promenade on the river frontage was the signal for
a bombardment from some insane native in a boat. I'm afraid that I lost
my temper very much indeed.

Another bullet reminded me that I had better save my breath to cool
my porridge; and I retreated hastily up the sands and back to the
horseshoe, where I saw that the noise of the rifle had drawn sixty-five
human beings from the badger-holes which I had up till that point
supposed to be untenanted. I found myself in the midst of a crowd of
spectators--about forty men, twenty women, and one child who could not
have been more than five years old. They were all scantily clothed in
that salmon-colored cloth which one associates with Hindu mendicants,
and, at first sight, gave me the impression of a band of loathsome
fakirs. The filth and repulsiveness of the assembly were beyond
all description, and I shuddered to think what their life in the
badger-holes must be.

Even in these days, when local self government has destroyed the greater
part of a native's respect for a Sahib, I have been accustomed to a
certain amount of civility from my inferiors, and on approaching the
crowd naturally expected that there would be some recognition of my
presence. As a matter of fact there was; but it was by no means what I
had looked for.

The ragged crew actually laughed at me--such laughter I hope I may never
hear again. They cackled, yelled, whistled, and howled as I walked into
their midst; some of them literally throwing themselves down on the
ground in convulsions of unholy mirth.