To overawe the natives, we made dummy guns, which with our battery guns were always kept covered up, so as to make the enemy imagine that we had plenty of artillery; but, I take it, they knew just as much about our doings as we ourselves knew. The bazaars (as they were called), a system of market that always sprang up whenever we remained long in one encampment, were hotbeds of the spies and detrimental to the force; but the camp-followers must have them--else had they been minus food. In India in those days, for every white man you had at least three natives following, either on the line of march or on their own account as appendages to the force. A magistrate accompanied us, and goodness knows how many baboos and native police and other paraphernalia of the law. When we were fighting, or on the brink of it, at least half of the natives suddenly disappeared, or remained behind in their own districts, and possibly turned rebels, if occasion required it. The whole country was in a state of disorder. Villages were deserted, and cattle grazing about _ad lib._ In fact, it was war with a vengeance and no quarter. It always struck me that we treated the natives with scant courtesy, and at times very roughly. We looked on them as such inferior beings, and bullied them far too much. I recollect seeing natives beaten and kicked for very little provocation. If a kitmuggar or bearer (servant) were lazy or disobliging, young officers took the law into their own hands, either thrashing him or fining him so many days’ wages; and, as a native only got a few pence to pull your punkah all night (to enable you to sleep in comfort), it was poor pay. If by chance he dozed off, the stillness of the air awoke you, and the poor devil was sure to get a hiding for his neglect. One of the earlier horrid sights I saw was when three Sepoy mutineers were brought into camp to be blown away from a gun. Of course, this sounds barbarous, as the sight is; but the death is no worse than loosing off ten rifles into a man. We used to form our force up into three sides of a square; a gun was loaded with half a charge of powder; and the rebel was lashed to the muzzle. This was done for effect, in the hope of overawing the natives; but those executed did not seem to mind it, for their souls were supposed to be saved if they were killed by white men: I saw them walk up to the gun as coolly as possible. One could not help admiring the pluck of the wretched creatures. Alas, we had to do it. Also, in the early days of the Mutiny we had constantly to hang the wretches. Once I was sent away to hang eight rebels on one tree. Shooting them would have been more merciful. I simply marched them off with a small guard of sailors to a tree a mile or so from camp, where they were executed. If by chance captured rebels happened to be natives of any note, we erected temporary gallows and left them hanging for a day or two.