A Soldier of the Legion: An Englishman's Adventures Under the French Flag in Algeria and TonquinManington, George
History
A Soldier of the Legion: An Englishman's Adventures Under the French Flag in Algeria and Tonquin
Manington, George
Algeria -- History; France. Armée. Légion étrangère; Vietnam, Northern -- History
The coolies, on their arrival, were told off into squads, and the daily
ration of rice and salt fish was served out to them. This they cooked
in copper pots, and the men of each squad squatted round the fires
awaiting their evening meal, while one of their comrades, who acted as
cook for the occasion, kept stirring the stew with a bamboo stick.
Most of these Celestials were tall, well-made men, whose lower
limbs were abnormally developed--a natural result of the calling
they followed--and, like the majority of their race, they evidently
possessed a strong dislike to soap and water, for they were extremely
filthy. They were clothed, like the men of the mountain tribes in
this region of the Tonquin, in a costume consisting of a vest and
pantaloons of blue cotton cloth, which, in most cases, was in a
terribly ragged condition.
For pay they received twenty-five cents per diem (about fivepence),
plus their daily rations.
The meal finished, the majority indulged in a few pipes of cheap
opium, locally known as _Sai_, and the surface of the compound was
starred over with the numerous tiny twinkles of their little lamps.
These went out one by one, and before midnight the camp was plunged in
silence and slumber, the naked limbs of the sleeping coolies having the
appearance of old ivory or new bronze in the flickering glimmer of the
watch-fires, round which they reclined. Then the stillness of the night
would be broken only by the song of the cicalas, the crackle of burning
wood, the occasional call of the sentries, and the far-away cop! cop!
cop! of a tiger hunting in the hills.
At Bac-Lé our detachment left the convoy, and abandoning the highroad,
we struck off due north by a small path which led to Cho-Trang. We set
out before daybreak, so as to avoid marching in the midday heat, and
were accompanied by a guide and several coolies bearing lighted torches
made of split bamboo as a precaution against wild beasts.
Cho-Trang is about 12 miles from the Lang-son road, and the little
track we followed passed for nine of these through a succession of
jungle-covered valleys, and over hills hidden in primeval forests of
teak, banyan, ironwood and palm trees, some of which were of enormous
size, with an impenetrable undergrowth of fern, interlacing creepers,
orchids and spiked rattan. In these woods the light of day was almost
shut out by the dense foliage; no birds seemed to live there, and
the strange, weird silence was only broken now and again by troops
of chattering brown monkeys, which, disturbed by our approach, would
scuttle away through the branches, jumping from one bough to another
with their usual agility, and maintaining the while such grotesqueness
of face and demeanour that our laughter was frequently provoked.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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