kissed with cool puffs of wind, which instantly turned into strong gusts, and developed a howling hurricane. Soon flashes of lightning followed each other with amazing rapidity, and peals of thunder absolutely deafening, rolled onwards, louder, louder still as they approached, and yet louder than the roar of all our artillery fired off simultaneously. Then there seemed a momentary lull in the furious rush of the hurricane — as if to allow the forlorn creatures below to prepare for what was coming — while from the electrical discharge above descended a terrific crash, accompanied with oceans of rain seldom seen out of India, and which drenched us in a moment.
This perfect deluge assailed the Brigade about midnight, and brought it to a standstill; and although it poured down upon us in pitiless torrents until broad daylight, and every man was saturated to the skin and wet through and through, without a dry rag on his back for several mortal hours, we thoroughly enjoyed the refreshing “ducking,” as a downright treat and relief to the fearful fiery torture we had helplessly endured so long.
Notwithstanding, however, this prolonged halt under a waterspout in the dark, and the road having become a river of mud, the whole Brigade reached Cuptāngung before noon, and encamped under some of those well-known pepul trees which grow to such colossal size in India, and are “reverenced” by all Hindus, owing — as tradition tells them — to Old Buddha having invariably meditated and taught his profoundly beautiful
