The
train bands stepped ashore and gossiped with friends a quarter of an
hour, then pulled out and repeated this at the succeeding villages. We
had thirty-five miles to go and six hours to do it in, but it was plain
that we were not going to make it. It was then that the English officers
said it was now necessary to turn this gravel train into an express. So
they gave the engine-driver a rupee and told him to fly. It was a simple
remedy. After that we made ninety miles an hour. We crossed the Ganges
just at dawn, made our connection, and went to Benares, where we stayed
twenty-four hours and inspected that strange and fascinating piety-hive
again; then left for Lucknow, a city which is perhaps the most
conspicuous of the many monuments of British fortitude and valor that are
scattered about the earth.
The heat was pitiless, the flat plains were destitute of grass, and baked
dry by the sun they were the color of pale dust, which was flying in
clouds. But it was much hotter than this when the relieving forces
marched to Lucknow in the time of the Mutiny. Those were the days of 138
deg.
Pages:
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99