No More Learning

"They went into camp," said an elderly Major recalled from the
whist-tables at Mussoorie to a sickly Native Regiment, "they went into
camp with two hundred and ten sick in carts. Two hundred and ten fever
cases only, and the balance looking like so many ghosts with sore eyes.
A Madras Regiment could have walked through 'em. "

"But they were as fit as be-damned when I left them! " said Bobby.

"Then you'd better make them as fit as be-damned when you rejoin," said
the Major, brutally.

Bobby pressed his forehead against the rain-splashed windowpane as the
train lumbered across the sodden Doab, and prayed for the health of the
Tyneside Tail Twisters. Naini Tal had sent down her contingent with
all speed; the lathering ponies of the Dalhousie Road staggered into
Pathankot, taxed to the full stretch of their strength; while from
cloudy Darjiling the Calcutta Mail whirled up the last straggler of the
little army that was to fight a fight, in which was neither medal nor
honor for the winning, against an enemy none other than "the sickness
that destroyeth in the noonday. "

And as each man reported himself, he said: "This is a bad business,"
and went about his own forthwith, for every Regiment and Battery in the
cantonment was under canvas, the sickness bearing them company.

Bobby fought his way through the rain to the Tail Twisters' temporary
mess, and Revere could have fallen on the boy's neck for the joy of
seeing that ugly, wholesome phiz once more.

"Keep 'em amused and interested," said Revere. "They went on the drink,
poor fools, after the first two cases, and there was no improvement. Oh,
it's good to have you back, Bobby! Porkiss is a--never mind. "

Deighton came over from the Artillery camp to attend a dreary mess
dinner, and contributed to the general gloom by nearly weeping over the
condition of his beloved Battery.
Porkiss so far forgot himself as to
insinuate that the presence of the officers could do no earthly good,
and that the best thing would be to send the entire Regiment into
hospital and "let the doctors look after them. " Porkiss was demoralized
with fear, nor was his peace of mind restored when Revere said coldly:
"Oh! The sooner you go out the better, if that's your way of thinking.
Any public school could send us fifty good men in your place, but it
takes time, time, Porkiss, and money, and a certain amount of trouble,
to make a Regiment. 'S'pose you're the person we go into camp for, eh? "

Whereupon Porkiss was overtaken with a great and chilly fear which a
drenching in the rain did not allay, and, two days later, quitted this
world for another where, men do fondly hope, allowances are made for the
weaknesses of the flesh. The Regimental Sergeant-Major looked wearily
across the Sergeants' Mess tent when the news was announced.

"There goes the worst of them," he said. "It'll take the best, and then,
please God, it'll stop. " The Sergeants were silent till one said: "It
couldn't be him! " and all knew of whom Travis was thinking.

Bobby Wick stormed through the tents of his Company, rallying,
rebuking mildly, as is consistent with the Regulations, chaffing the
faint-hearted: haling the sound into the watery sunlight when there
was a break in the weather, and bidding them be of good cheer for
their trouble was nearly at an end; scuttling on his dun pony round
the outskirts of the camp and heading back men who, with the innate
perversity of British soldier's, were always wandering into infected
villages, or drinking deeply from rain-flooded marshes; comforting the
panic-stricken with rude speech, and more than once tending the dying
who had no friends--the men without "townies"; organizing, with banjos
and burned cork, Sing-songs which should allow the talent of the
Regiment full play; and generally, as he explained, "playing the giddy
garden-goat all round. "

"You're worth half a dozen of us, Bobby," said Revere in a moment of
enthusiasm. "How the devil do you keep it up? "

Bobby made no answer, but had Revere looked into the breast-pocket of
his coat he might have seen there a sheaf of badly-written letters which
perhaps accounted for the power that possessed the boy. A letter came
to Bobby every other day.