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3 Mar 61 Julius Fyzabad Mother ______________________________________________________________________________________________

Fyzabad

3 – 3 – 61

My dear Mother

I must not let this mail slip away without a letter.

We are beginning to feel the heat creeping on us again. Today is quite a hot weather day. This, together with a certain amount of reaction from yesterday makes one feel inclined to pass an idle day.

I think I ought to tell you about our proceedings yesterday, Saturday, & as usual our Pig sticking day which we wanted to celebrate with rather more than usual sport, if we could find it, as it is evident the cold weather is fast going from us and therefore we fear our days of this sport for this year are numbered.

We selected fresh hunting grounds, which had not been visited this year before, and set off for a 24 mile ride to reach the Camp we had had pitched, at Gunfire* (an hour before daylight).

We had a relay of horses on the road and in the early morning we found it a delicious gallop before breakfast. On arrival I was rather puzzled, for I was riding my man-eating horse & I found [that] his own peculiar attendant (who understands his little peculiarities & had been sent on the previous evening to be ready to take charge of him), had not turned up. So I had, with an unlimited quantity of rope, chains etc. and with considerable danger to myself, to tie him in such a manner by legs & head that he was powerless to injure anyone or get loose.

This having done in a satisfactory manner we proceeded to breakfast; it began to get warmish. There were tents pitched, but we in our usual style preferred the picnicking plan and in the centre of a large tope of trees sat down on the ground to a table cloth well covered with all the requisites to supply our wants.

Of course previous to going to feed ourselves we had cast a rapid glance towards the animal destined to carry our peculiar selves during the day. My mount I ought to describe. He does not belong to me but to a great friend of mine by name Sampson, who was doing duty with us & my Subaltern & now is the Adjutant of Hodson’s Horse.

It is only natural to suppose that a man with such a name should have a strongish horse – and this one would fulfil most peoples’ anticipations. He is I think the largest horse I have seen in India (where horses are all so small). His height is 16 hands 1in. and he is very big as well as very tall.

His previous history is short as far as I know. His present owner bought him thinking he would make a splendid Dog Cart* horse and so he would, but unfortunately he does not seem to see it in exactly the same light. The first day he went along beautifully, seemed to think nothing of the cart at all.

Sampson, very much pleased with his new purchase congratulated himself warmly on his acuteness in buying the horse, went out for a quiet drive (as he fondly imagined) next evening and was rather surprised about two minutes after starting to find the new bargain had kicked himself clean out of the cart & his harness. The cart went over sideways & what became of Sampson, the proud proprietor I never heard. But I know he escaped injury. He always has good luck.

Well, Sampson very kindly, knowing I was dismounted for Pig sticking, both my horses being more or less lame, offered me the use of ‘Colopus’* on this occasion & I needless to say jumped at the proposal.

To continue my tale......

After making a hearty breakfast (as on these excursions one always feels bound to do), the coolies or beaters had to be collected, so off went volunteers from our Party to the neighbouring villages to get together all, or as many of the male population as could be found.

This took some time before we got sufficient numbers to start with, but at length, about 11 o’clock, we made our debut & went in the direction of a large sugar cane enclosure which the inhabitants of the vicinity assured us was ‘the Pig Fort’ but as is customary when you expect much, we met instead of pigs, with disappointment.

Here in beating we lost a deal of time and determined to try a Jungle near our Camp instead of any more ‘Forts’; so sending the beaters off with the Elephants in its direction we continued into the shade of the trees about the Encampment & discussed cooling beverages, represented by sherry & soda water.

After allowing the Beaters sufficient time to reach the borders, we proceeded to join them and immediately on entering the Jungle, away went two Blue Bull* but we were out after the wild Boar so allowed them to pass unmolested.

As soon as ever the Coolies were formed in line, a voice from the top of one of the Elephants warned us of Pigs being afoot. So we searched all along the edge of the Jungle so as to be on the look out. Before we got to our posts, rush came a herd by. The three nearest of us of course had to do our best to get them to break cover, for which purpose (oblivious of jungle, stumps & bushes of thorns) after them at our best pace we had to go.

What if your horse does carry you full tilt against a tree, or trip up against a stump, so long as you are not knocked off and he recovers himself. On you go, praising your luck, when you are carried into the middle of a thorn bush against your will, you all the while hauling hard in the opposite direction. Then perhaps you make use of a short but impressive exclamation of disgust & having made the best of your way out of it with head bent down, arms up & spurs in, you go away again rather harder than before; sometimes pushing your way hard through a cover, you suddenly find yourself an the brink of a Nullah.* Rather unpleasant I’ll allow, particularly with a good steady pulling horse like mine, then your only plan is to hold him together best way you can & trust in providence and your good luck not to have too far to fall.

Occasionally off goes your ‘topee’* or hat, knocked off by a branch and you have a run of half a mile or so in the burning sun before you can pull up & go back to fetch it and then if you are not entirely thrown out of the race you have rather a hard push to see any more of it, to say nothing of the head ache for the rest of the day which you most likely acquire. On this occasion fortune seemed to smile on us for a time, as none of us came to grief & we were lucky enough to get the Pigs to break cover, but after a bucketing ride over a few corn fields finding that we were too much for them in the open they turned once more into the friendly shade of the thick Jungle & we lost them.

After beating about for a short time in the hope of coming across some traces of them, finding it hopeless we abandoned the Jungle to the Coolies & took up commanding Positions on the far edge so that every thing the Beaters kept before them must eventually have passed us. I stood ready on horse-back, spear in hand, in the shade of a tree ready to pursue the wily Boar if he should make his appearance. Down came two more Blue Bull close to me looking beautiful as they went away, and causing me rather a pang to look at them & sit still.

At this time while I was intent on watching the ‘Niel Ghy’* as they are called, a splendid race occurred on the other side of the jungle. A whole herd of Pig broke & selecting the biggest amongst them away went all in sight of them. In practice they had a short but rattling run of 2 miles over beautiful country. The nearest rider, one of our light weights, challenging the Boar for the last half mile, but unsuccessfully.

The boar just having been able to make an immense field of dâll* untouched and his pursuer being necessitated to postpone gaining a ‘first spear’ till a later period of the day, in the prettiest run we had, it was after a small boar which doubled beautifully, nearly everyone had his chance at it & failed and it was not until we had had a hard 3 miles of it that blood was drawn.

Another pig, an immense sow, stood at bay in a clump of bushes & kept on emerging furiously & charging the beaters until a party of the Pig stickers having dismounted went in and despatched her on foot. This is most dangerous as if you miss your first spear you are probably cut up (if it is a boar) by his tusks. I have a tusk on my table now measuring about 6 inches long, which it would be no joke coming in contact with.

After a capital day’s sport (our bag was not good, having only killed a couple of Pig, but we had been running nearly the whole time) we returned to our ‘tope’ & after indulging in a ‘Chatty’ (large earthen pot) of water over our heads sat down refreshed for tiffin.

The commissariat department is generally well managed in India & people are accustomed to live well. We are no exceptions to the rule & like to do everything nicely.

A good tiffin, to be complete, requires a Cheroot after it & it is a delicious relaxation after a hard day to lie quietly in the shade of an immense tree & puff away in comfort. Everything, however, must have an end so even cigars won’t last for ever and at 4pm you might have seen us with everything prepared for the move, mounted on our roadsters once more for the return trip.

Changing horses once on the way we reached our mess in 2 hrs. and a quarter, a very good ‘dawk’* pace for 24 miles. Since the morning we calculated we had ridden about 70 miles. We had enjoyed the day &, as can be easily imagined, slept well that night.

I think I have now given you some slight insight into our proceedings when we go out ‘Pig sticking’ and I have no doubt you can understand, in the absence of anything like English Hunting, how we enjoy it so much.

7th March.

So the mail for which this letter was intended has gone away without it. A mail from England reached this yesterday (and by the way brought no letters for me, but) bringing news of Holroyd’s promotion vice Peel, so our suppositions about ‘Dunbar’ have turned out correct, and I hope now soon to hear of some arrangements with Steuart being made on my behalf. He has, I see by the papers, married & will I should think jump at a proposition made by John or my Father, as part of his marriage contract is that he is not to go to India. The coast is clear now that Holroyd is a Capt. as I know no one before me is for purchase.

There are some Races coming off at Lucknow in a weeks time at which I should like much to be present. It would be a capital break before the hot weather really sets in & would be a pleasant trip, but I have not got any money so I must ‘nothing venture & nothing win’.

The weather has turned a little cooler again, so we are of course looking out for Saturday, when we will go and stir up the Boar in his Jungle lair.

I hope you are all well. You have no idea how I always miss a letter when the England Post comes in without anything for me. It certainly is seldom that I can have a bit of a grumble on this account as you are a capital correspondent which I fear is a good deal more than you can say of me. Even now I have spread over some 16 sides of note paper what might, with ease, have been squeezed into half.

I am all alone in my house now & am getting my Garden into good order. It is very small but as neat & pretty as any in the Station, although I say it who should not & now to finish this pig sticking rambling effusion.

From yr. affect son

J D Laurie

Best love to Helen & all

* Gunfire – Early morning tea, brown and sticky, sometimes laced with alcohol

* Dog Cart – Light two wheeled cart more usually drawn by a single light horse than by dogs

* Colopus – Genus of gekko, but in this case, probably named after a ship

* Blue Bull – Variety of antelope found in north central India, with an ungainly, horse-like appearance and a bluish tinge to its skin

* Nullah – Steep narrow valley

* topee – Solar topee, or pith helmet. (see photo on page 496)

* Niel Ghy – Nilgai, an Indian antelope

* dâll – Dhal (also spelled dal, dahl, or daal). Split pulse, a central part of almost any Bengali meal