It was two o’clock on the morning of the 25th that we left the Residency, and it was now between three and four in the afternoon. Every fresh hill seemed worse than its predecessor, and at last we began ascending one which appeared almost impossible to climb. Its sides were very steep and rocky, and there was only the merest apology for a path to direct us in any way. It was a case of using hands and knees to perform the ascent, and it seemed as though we should never reach the summit. When, after wearily toiling on for some hours, we did arrive at the top, I felt that I could not move another step. We did halt for a short time here, and while we waited an incident occurred which touched me very much. A young Naga, who had been a Sais[20] in our service for several months at one time, found his way to our camp at the risk of losing his life had he been discovered by the enemy, and presented me with three eggs, expressing at the same time his sorrow at not being able to do more for me. He stayed till sunset with us, and then crept back under cover of the darkness to his village. I was much touched at this simple act of kindness, and I have often remembered it since, and wished it were in my power to do something for the brave lad. But unfortunately I have forgotten his name, and that of the village to which he belonged. Three eggs are not many among eight hungry people, not to speak of the Sepoys; but no one would share them with me, in spite of my begging them to do so. I could not manage a raw egg, though I made several valiant efforts to swallow one. Eventually they all came to a bad end, for the two remaining ones were put into somebody’s pocket for safety, and were smashed later on, so no one benefited much by the little Naga boy’s well-meant offering. While we were halting on the top of this hill, one of the officers took a few men with him and went on to take stock of the surrounding country, as our exact whereabouts seemed uncertain. He came to a Manipuri Thana before he had proceeded far, and had a parley with the native officer in command there, who called to him, telling him he had something to say. So the party went up to within speaking distance, and the Manipuri called out that he had orders to ‘pass the Memsahib and Sepoys,’ but that all the officers must return to Manipur. However, as soon as he was told that our party intended proceeding undivided, he ordered his men to fire on us, which they immediately did, and we had to begin marching again down the hill and up the other side of the ravine. The firing continued on both sides the whole time, and it was only when we eventually reached the summit of the opposite hill to that upon which we had halted, and disappeared over the crest, that it ceased. The sun had set, and night was beginning to close in and put an end to the longest day I have ever known. It seemed months almost since our departure from the Residency, and yet it was but twenty-four hours.