"It is rather
a story of what the Scotch call second sight, than one of ghosts.
As to accounting for it, you shall form your own opinion when you
have heard me to the end.
"I landed in India in '50, and after going through the regular
drill work marched with a detachment up country to join my regiment,
which was stationed at Jubbalpore, in the very heart of India.
It has become an important place since; the railroad across India
passes through it and no end of changes have taken place; but at
that time it was one of the most out of the way stations in India,
and, I may say, one of the most pleasant. It lay high, there was
capital boating on the Nerbudda, and, above all, it was a grand
place for sport, for it lay at the foot of the hill country, an
immense district, then but little known, covered with forests and
jungle, and abounding with big game of all kinds.
"My great friend there was a man named Simmonds. He was just of
my own standing; we had come out in the same ship, had marched up
the country together, and were almost like brothers. He was an old
Etonian, I an old Westminster, and we were both fond of boating,
and, indeed, of sport of all kinds. But I am not going to tell you
of that now. The people in these hills are called Gonds, a true
hill tribe--that is to say, aborigines, somewhat of the negro
type.
Pages:
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208