s that we were obliged to leave the dead on the field,
for our rascally dhoolie bearers and guides had treacherously decamped,
and we had scarcely men enough remaining to carry the wounded. The
seamen undertook this duty, while the Bengal infantry, in a very gallant
way, for which we were heartily obliged to them, covered our retreat.
The only road that we could possibly take was the one we had come by.
The jungle on each side was so thick that we could not force our way
through it. Happily, for the same reason, I suppose, the enemy did not
get round and meet us in front. They followed, but were afraid to
advance near enough to molest us, the soldiers' rifles reaching farther
than their jingalls or Birmingham muskets.

"We all felt very downcast at the loss we had sustained, but more
especially for that of our brave leader, Captain Loch. He was still
alive, but the surgeon gave us no hopes that he would recover. The heat
was tremendous, the sun burning down on our heads, while we hadn't a
drop of water, and the men had to carry our leader and the rest of the
wounded for nearly twenty miles. Still, all hands did their best to
keep up their courage and discipline, the strongest helping, as far as
they could, the weakest; four or five of our officers, who were
themselves wounded, setting the rest an example. Thankful enough were
we when we caught sight of the river, after a march of twelve hours, and
found ourselves at length seated in the boats, the troops being embarked
on board the _Phlegethon_. Shoving off, we made our way back to
Rangoon, and the next day we heard that Captain Loch had expired within
two days after he had received his wound. We agreed that it was a very
sad affair, and it would have been better had we tried to catch the
robber and his band while they were out foraging.

"We buried Captain Loch on shore, near the great pagoda, at Rangoon, and
I am sure I never joined in a sadder procession than we formed, as,
shoving off, we followed the coffin of our late gallant chief on shore,
and marched to the neighbourhood of the great pagoda. He was buried
with all the honour we could show.

"The robber, Mya Toon, held out for some time longer, till a
considerable force, under Sir John Cheape, was sent against his
stronghold. Even then he showed much pluck, and was not dislodged till
several officers and men on our side had fallen. This was just before
the King of Ava knocked under and sued for pea