Tragic Magic

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

It so happened that some time, prior to his leave for home, Ron and the junior kerani, George Adams, who shared the bungalow with him, invited all the married couples and some of the assistants for short eats and drinks. It was as usual an enjoyable party with Ron's pet mongrel, Billy, a great favourite in the compound, running out of and back into the bungalow and being petted by everyone. Billy was fond of chasing frogs. The frog is known to spit back when defending itself, so that when Billy appeared with a little foam on his whiskers no-one thought anything about it. The next morning, however, Billy became ill. Ron sent for the local veterinary surgeon, who assured him that Billy was suffering only from a sore throat and prescribed a medication to be applied to Billy's throat which Ron did as directed. The following day Sunday - Ron set off for a round of golf across the river, where he succeeded in bursting a blister in his hand while playing. On returning to the bungalow he found that Billy was rather restless and tied to the leg of the table in the bottle khana. Ron, after applying the prescribed treatment by holding Billy's jaws apart with his injured hand, went to have his bath. When he came out the bearer, Sofi Khan, informed him anxiously, 'Sahib, Billy is mad.' Billy was mad and exhibited all the deadly symptoms of rabies.

It was imperative that the dog be taken immediately to Calcutta. There followed a frightening struggle with the dog being dragged by Ron and George over the lawns, into the launch and across the river, where a taxi awaited them. Ron and George got in beside the driver and Billy was tied firmly to the footrest in the back. At all times contact with him had to be avoided. The nightmare journey of some twenty miles continued until they reached the vet in Park Street. It was impossible to get Billy out of the taxi. Held down by tongs he received the lethal injection while still in the car.

At the Pasteur Institute they were informed that Ron and the sweeper, who used to groom Billy, were the two most open to danger and had to have the full treatment of twenty-eight injections - fourteen on each side of the stomach. All the others who attended the party had to have fourteen injections. There were also further instructions: no alcohol, no tennis, or any form of vigorous exercise for a month.

The injections administered into the stomach are very painful, but everyone took the treatment in good part. The ladies decided that they would lie down together on a double bed in one of the married quarters and steel themselves to face up to their ordeal. The resident doctor, Dr Dutta, arrived to apply the treatment. The poor man was terribly embarrassed by being confronted with a row of exposed stomachs waiting to be jabbed, but the ladies with er,their inherent Scots humour took it all in their stride and were later heard joking about the rows of blue buttons on their tummies. As for Ron, he said his looked like Dinnet Moor with the purple heather in full bloom. A few weeks later, after the way of life in the compound

returned to normal, Dennis developed a high temperature which steadily rose higher until it was decided that he had to be rushed to hospital in Calcutta. I remember Jean telling me later, when I came out to India, how everyone in the compound became alarmed not knowing what the cause might be, but all the various tests proved negative and in the end the doctors came to the conclusion that Ron's appendix might be at the root of all the trouble. No-one was actually quite certain what was the real reason for this high temperature - was it the aftermath of the anti-rabies injections or perhaps some other mysterious source? An operation took place, the appendix was removed and on recovery Ron sailed for his leave to Scotland. Shortly after his arrival we were married.

With the recollection of Billy's illness and its consequences still fresh in our minds it was clear that Pik had to be treated without delay. The local veterinary surgeon arrived to administer the necessary injections, but in the face of Pik's open hostility the man became terrified and handed the needle over to Ron who carried out the operation as directed. Although furious at such perfidy Pik suffered the injections but later refused to have anything to do with Ron. All friendly overtures were treated with lofty contempt. There was no warm welcome for Ron when he returned from the office and no more sitting at his feet. All affection was transferred to me instead. Gradually the old loyalty returned. Pik began to follow Ron to the office and settle down once more beside him in the evening.

As the compound offered little scope for adventure, we decided, one Sunday afternoon, to take Pik for a walk in the surrounding jungle. The jungle was not a wild jungle of leopards or tigers and not one where it was possible to get lost, but it was still a jungle, alive with snakes, jackals, a few civet cats and monkeys.

The day was cool and pleasant when we set off on a narrow path through the thick undergrowth, passing now and again little clearances, mud cottages with thatched roofs and astonished children running behind us, pointing to Pik and saying, 'Bhalu ka bacha hai' (it's a bear cub!). As we continued walking we met coming towards us a colourful wedding procession. The little bridegroom, perhaps as young as ten years old, all dressed up with an ornamental cap on his head and looking very pleased with himself, was being carried shoulder high on a litter. He was on his way back to his own house, where he would remain until such time as he and his young bride were old enough to consummate their marriage.

We went on following the footpath until we reached a bamboo bridge thrown across a small stream. The crossing was tricky as we could move only sideways with Ron carrying Pik in his arms. In a little while we arrived in the bazaar adjoining the Bowreah cotton mill. Close to this bazaar lay a small neglected cemetery.

Sometime during the last century when the cotton mill was started a group of Lancashire mill girls were brought out from home to instruct the local workers in the various techniques required to run a cotton mill. It was the era of long journeys on sailing ships, a time when there were no injections against cholera or typhoid. The girls did not live very long and judging by the barely discernible names on the tombstones some had married Muhammadans.

I paused for a few moments. On one side of the road was the teeming life of an Indian bazaar, tea-shops, bare-footed children, pi-dogs ambling around, and on the other, the neglected cemetery, broken tombstones with the English names of girls, laid to rest in alien graves so far removed from the homely scenes of their native land.

The short Indian twilight was over when we were back in Lawrence to a hot bath and dinner and Pik, well pleased with his adventure, sleeping at our feet.

I may add I never saw any snakes or civet cats and throughout all the years in India have no recollection of any confrontation with snakes, a statement that seems to astonish my husband who, by contrast, had had several encounters with them.

I may have been lucky for soon after our trek through the jungle, Jean, my neighbour, had a frightening experience. She awoke in the morning after John had left for work and lay in bed casually scanning the bedroom. Her eyes fell on the dressing table where she noticed what she imagined was John's tie hanging over the mirror. She wondered idly what possessed John to throw his tie in such a manner when to her horror she saw the 'tie' move and realized it was a snake. Leaping out of her bed she rushed for the servants. The snake turned out to be the deadly cobra which was soon dispatched by the servants. The Indian knows more about snakes than the average European and in this case the servants believed that another one was probably near by. They turned out to be right, for after searching around they found the second cobra under Jean's bedroom window and gave it the same treatment.

Slowly, imperceptibly, with each passing day the hot season moved nearer. A mere few weeks ago the golden disc of the sun shone with a benign brightness, but now it seemed to draw closer with a fiery heat. The harsh glare on the river became unbearable, and it was not long before jilmils¹ had to be closed and the chicks² lowered over the veranda.