Chapter 2

It seemed to me that we were walking at a terrific pace, but these little short-legged fellows appeared to be traveling with ease. I knew that my soft Air Corps career had caught up to me at last, and for the first time in my life I wished I had been trained for the Infantry. The climbing didn't seem to faze them at all, while I was exhausted from the beginning. They had legs like "Charlie Atlas"---all muscle. I was so tired from climbing that it seemed to me as if we had covered half of Burma when we finally arrived at our goal.

I noticed a small gathering of natives in front of a long, narrow building, or basha, made of bamboo an grass. Their eyes seemed to pierce right through me, and I felt nervous not knowing just how this group would receive me. After the preliminary greetings and explanations between the natives were over, the leader of my original group turned to me and went through the motions of washing himself. I knew what he meant, for I was a sight, so I nodded in the affirmative.

One little fellow came over and led me down to a small stream. As I shed my clothing, he took it and started washing my clothes by slamming them against a smooth rock. There were quite a few leeches stuck to my legs. They are hard to remove, and I was having quite a bit of trouble until my little laundryman noticed my plight. He immediately dropped his work and set out to show me the correct way to remove the leech. He ran back to the basha and emerged with a flaming piece of bamboo. He would touch the leeches with little pieces of red-hot bamboo and their heads would immediately come out of my leg, and then he would brush them off.

The villages were made up of one or two long buildings in which the people lived, plus a few little buildings for chickens, pigs, and water buffaloes---their work horses. The main buildings contained about a dozen fireplaces with a separate family gathering at each one.

After the "supper dishes were done," the men got out their little bamboo cups and started mixing up their evening smoke of opium. They don't smoke it straight like the Chinese, but mix it with some sort of grass. First they melt the opium in little metal pans and then dip this grass in by means of chopsticks. They go through a process of rolling and pressing until the mixture becomes quite firm. Next they mix up some sort of liquid which I supposed was for a mouthwash. Their final step is to bring out their pillows, which are solid wooden blocks. They have a hard time keeping their pipes lighted, but that doesn't worry them because they're sound asleep before they get many drags. They take a few puffs sitting up, followed by a little mouthwash. Then they lie down with their heads and pipes on the wooden blocks, contentedly puffing away until they pass out.

After the sun had gone down, it started to get very cold, but I hadn't noticed it, sitting so close to the fire. When I decided to try to get some sleep, I pulled a few banana leaves over me for a covering. They weren't warm at all, but were a little better than nothing. I also used a wooden block for a pillow, and regardless of the shape of my bed, I slept like a log.

I was awakened about five o'clock the next morning by the rooster's crowing. I saw a young native fixing a chicken for breakfast. He put it in a rock, chopped off the head and feet, discarded them, then proceeded to chop up the rest into small pieces---feathers, intestines, and all---and finished by dumping everything into a pan and putting it on the fire to cook. It turned out pretty well, though, if you could pick up a piece of meat out of the assortment. They gave me two hard-boiled eggs with salt. They treasured salt as we do sugar today. They hid it away in a slender bamboo casing, and when they offered me some they did so with the elegance of a king knighting me. It was crude rock salt and rather a purplish color, but it was salt, so I used it rather than hurt their feelings.

After eating, I tried to teach a few of the boys baseball, but soon gave it up, since pitching the ball and trying to hit it, run out and catch it, and throw myself out at first base was just a little too much for me. They got a big kick out of my attempt, at any rate, and I figured that as long as I stayed in their good grace I was safe.

In the meantime older natives had been hustling around, apparently getting things together for a trip. A few of them went down the hill and came back with three elephants. I was as pleased as a child with a new toy, since I naturally thought we were going to ride on them. By this time my stiffness was working out, but I still felt as if I were a hundred years old.

As we were standing around watching them put the bamboo harness on the elephants, we heard a long "Ka-cha-ee" which came from the valley. One of the natives answered and ran down to meet whoever was approaching. When the party came into view I saw that it was my tent mate, the engineer, Burkhardt, being helped along by two natives. I ran out to give him a hand.

He had a broken rib and bruises all over his body. He had landed in a tree about fifty feet from the ground and had undone his chest straps first. When he bent over to undo his leg straps, he fell forward and down almost out of his chute. His ankles caught in the leg straps and this probably saved his life. He hung upside down for quite a while and finally freed himself by swinging back and forth till he caught the trunk of the tree and shinnied up the tree feet first until he had enough slack to free his ankles. By the time he got his feet free, his arms were dead tired and they gave way. The next thing he remembered was one of the natives, who had helped him into our camp, bending over him and bathing his head with water. He said the native treated him like his own son.

By this time, they had the elephants all harnessed and packed. The leader came up to me and inquisitively pointed to Burkhardt. I supposed he meant, "Is he ready to travel?" Still thinking that we were going to ride on the elephants, I said, "Yes", as we were both eager to get started at once. But it turned out that the elephants were only going along to bring back the salt and other things that the natives would get for rescuing us. Only one native rode on the lead elephant's head, in order to steer him. Burkhardt ended up riding on one, though, for he was quite lame. From his description of the ride afterwards, I was just as glad that I had walked. He said he had all he could do to stay on the beast's back.

It was raining buckets and the paths ran either straight up or straight down. The deep mud made the gong very hard and it was most discouraging to climb to the top of a little knoll only to slide to the bottom again. I was a muddy mess within fifteen minutes and Burkhardt was worse. We finally devised a system, though. We each got directly behind an elephant, and as he plowed through the mud, we followed right in his footsteps before the mud and water had filled them in.

I wouldn't believe that elephants could do what they actually did on that trip if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Every once in a while we would come to a steep embankment which I wouldn't have attempted to ascend if it hadn't been for my friend "Jumbo," the elephant I was following. Jumbo wouldn't hesitate a second. He would stick his foot right through the side of the mountain, sinking it in about a foot. It was a sight to watch that huge, cumbersome hulk go up the incline so swiftly.

If Jumbo happened to make a misstep and started to slip, he would immediately drop to his knees, straightening out his hind legs for a brace. He would set himself once again, and then wham! he would stick his front hoof about two feet into the ground and off he would go again. For me it was just like walking up a flight of stairs. If I was a little slow in stepping into his footprints, they were little lakes by the time I reached them, because the rain water ran so swiftly down the hill. This went on all day until dusk, when we stopped off at another little Kachin village, where we were treated just as I had been the night before.