The first man had the top of his head blown off by the volley. His companions awaiting their turn burst into a laugh at his grotesque appearance. A day or two after Christmas we halted at My̆otha in the middle of the Ava subdivision and there held the first gymkhana in the jungle of Upper Burma. Pony races and other sporting events for officers and men and for local Burmans made up the programme. It was a characteristic episode. The people of My̆otha were very friendly and joined with enthusiasm in the proceedings. Here I confirmed in his office the My̆othugyi.[105] I am told that he still holds the appointment. After leaving My̆otha, we had our third and last encounter with dacoits. Captain Clements and Mr. Rainey took a few sowárs[106] to escort a telegraph working-party a few miles from our camp. So unexciting seemed the prospect that the rest of us stayed behind. Some of us walked unattended to a neighbouring village and sat for a long time talking with the headman and his people. The working-party and the escort were met by a hostile line of Burmans armed with muskets. Followed by the sowárs, the officers charged and routed the enemy, but Clements fell with two holes in his chest. No wonder the surgeon looked grave. A bullet in each lung, God shield us, is a most dreadful thing. However, a fortnight afterwards I found Clements quite active at mess at Tha-yet-my̆o. I infer that his pony swerved at the volley and that the two holes were made by the same bullet. In Burma Clements got another wound and two brevets. He served with great distinction in South Africa, and after passing through many campaigns was cut off by appendicitis at Quetta in the midst of a brilliant career. A fine officer, a perfect horseman, with a frame of iron, even in youth he gave promise of future eminence. Another unfortunate incident was an outbreak of cholera in our camp, which brought us to a halt for some days and cost valuable lives. A stalwart young sergeant of gunners was specially regretted. A halt on account of cholera is one of the most gloomy and depressing experiences, particularly for the men. It was with somewhat chastened feelings that we marched into Myingyan. Our one consolation was that we had accomplished our purpose and reopened telegraphic communication with Rangoon.