Military life consists in being here to-day, there to-morrow; and is indeed a nomadic existence, only relieved by its eminent respectability. “Move on,” is the everlasting dictum of War Office and policeman; and one has, during the active years of one’s life, but few opportunities of settling down in the midst of one’s few household gods. This constant moving under orders is apt to cling to men, even after their retirement from the service; and this accounts for the reputation enjoyed by Anglo-Indians as the most restless of mortals. On first returning home, they pitch their tents in “Asia Minor” (known to some as Bayswater); thence they move on through Bath, Cheltenham, and Leamington, until their circuit of the island is put a stop to by a last fatal illness. This wandering proclivity is further encouraged by the absence of ties to any particular spot; for the Anglo-Indian, returning after years of service in the Far East, is ever thrown into a train of melancholy associations by the reiterated question: “The friends of my youth, where are they?” CHAPTER X. A SECRET EXPEDITION. “He deserves small trust, Who is not privy councillor to himself.” One evening when at dinner, I received an official letter, which ordered me to proceed on the following day to a spot some miles down the river, and on the opposite bank. My luggage was not to exceed a specified weight, and further instructions would await me on arrival. I was moreover to consider the communication of a confidential character, which pointed clearly to some enterprise only to be revealed to those actually concerned, and not by any means intended as food for station gossip. I accordingly dropped down the river the following afternoon with my old attendant, any possible difficulty in discovering the place having been surmounted by their placing a look-out there to show that I was expected. But for the unmistakably official character of the communication which had summoned me hither, the proceedings resembled a ruse to entrap me. Nor did the place serve to allay such a suspicion; on landing I saw nothing but trees and shrubs, and the smoke from a fire some little way inland. The look-out now assumed the character of guide, and politely asked me to follow him to the camp, at which we soon arrived. Nestled among trees at the base of the hills was a considerable force of European and Native Infantry and Irregular Cavalry, while guns and gunners were conspicuous by their absence. That intelligent and useful pachyderm—the elephant—also mustered strong, those present being strong and of large size, evidently carefully selected for the occasion. This formidable array of colossal mammals were picketed apart; had they but been cognisant of their own strength, they might have nipped the expedition in the bud.