lages, so a squadron of cavalry was sent
in pursuit. We travelled fast and long, but we could not catch the
raiders. We crossed the Mu into unknown country, following their tracks,
and at last, being without guides, we camped that night in a little
monastery in the forest. At midnight we were attacked. A road ran
through our camp, and there was a picket at each end of the road, and
sentries were doubled.

It was just after midnight that the first shot was fired. We were all
asleep when a sudden volley was poured into the south picket, killing
one sentry and wounding another. There was no time to dress, and we ran
down the steps as we were (in sleeping dresses), to find the men rapidly
falling in, and the horses kicking at their pickets. It was pitch-dark.
The monastery was on a little cleared space, and there was forest all
round that looked very black. Just as we came to the foot of the steps
an outbreak of firing and shouts came from the north, and the Burmese
tried to rush our camp from there; then they tried to rush it again from
the south, but all their attempts were baffled by the steadiness of the
pickets and the reinforcements that were running up. So the Burmese,
finding the surprise ineffectual, and that the camp could not be taken,
spread themselves about in the forest in vantage places, and fired into
the camp. Nothing could be seen except the dazzling flashes from their
guns as they fired here and there, and the darkness was all the darker
for those flashes of flame, that cut it like swords. It was very cold. I
had left my blanket in the monastery, and no one was allowed to ascend,
because there, of all places, the bullets flew thickest, crushing
through the mat walls, and going into the teak posts with a thud. There
was nothing we could do. The men, placed in due order about the camp,
fired back at the flashes of the enemy's guns. That was all they had to
fire at. It was not much guide. The officers went from picket to picket
encouraging the men, but I had no duty; when fighting began my work as a
civilian was at a standstill. I sat and shivered with cold under the
monastery, and wished for the dawn. In a pause of the firing you could
hear the followers hammering the pegs that held the foot-ropes of the
horses. Then the dead and wounded were brought and put near me, and in
the dense dark the doctor tried to find out what injuries the men had
received, and dress them as well as he could. No light dare be lit