I was now on my road to Agra, to pay a visit to a schoolfellow, who was then in the civil service, and filling an appointment in the station. It was in the month of September that I made the journey--the most unhealthy season of the year. Opposite to the first dâk bungalow, some twelve miles from the station of Cawnpore, I was stopped by a set of twelve palkee bearers, who informed me that a Sahib whom they were taking to Allyghur had been seized with cholera, and was dying in the bungalow. I hastened to the room and there found, stretched upon the couch, a young officer of about nineteen years of age.

His face was ashy pale, and a profuse cold perspiration stood upon his forehead. His hands and feet were like ice, and he was in very great pain. The only person near him was the sweeper, who kept on assuring me that the youth would die. As for the youth himself he was past speech, and I was disposed to think with the sweeper, that he was beyond cure. I administered, however, nearly a teaspoonful of laudanum in a wine-glass half-full of raw brandy, and then took a seat near the patient, in order to witness the effect. Ere long the severe pain was allayed, and the youth fell into a profound sleep, from which, I began to fear, he would never awake. To have administered a smaller dose at that stage of the disease would have been useless, for the body was on the very verge of collapse. Nevertheless, I began to feel the awkwardness of the responsibility which I had taken upon myself. Presently a palanquin carriage, propelled by bearers, came to the bungalow. An elderly lady and gentleman alighted, and were shown into a little room which happened to be vacant [A dâk bungalow has only two little rooms.] To my great joy I discovered that the new arrival was a doctor of a regiment, who, with his wife, was journeying to Calcutta. I was not long in "calling in" the doctor; and I had the satisfaction of hearing him pronounce an opinion that the young ensign was "all right," and that the dose I had administered had been the means of saving his life. How readily, to be sure, do people in India accommodate each other. Although the doctor and his wife were hurrying down the country, and albeit the youth was pronounced out of danger, they remained with me until the following afternoon; when, having dined, we all took our departure together--the youth and I travelling northward, the doctor and his wife in the opposite direction.

Wanderings in India — Part 61