There is one other point which, in my hurry to get my letter off in time for the January mail, I totally forgot to mention—viz., about drawing some money on my father. I have before mentioned the great expense we have been put to in this campaign; in addition to this, when we were ordered from Quettah to take Kelat, we were also under orders to return to Quettah after having taken the place. A sergeant was therefore left behind at Quettah to take charge of whatever effects any person might leave, and officers were strongly advised to leave the greater part of their kit at this place. I, as well as most of my brother officers, was foolish enough to follow this advice, and brought only a bundle of linen; consequently now I am almost minus everything; dress-coat, appointments, are all left behind, as General Willshire, after the taking of Kelat, instead of returning to Quettah, proceeded into Cutch Gundava by the Gundava Pass. Nothing has been since heard of what we have left behind, except that the sergeant could not get camels or carriage sufficient to bring them down. Moreover, it is unsafe to go through the Bolan Pass without a tolerably strong escort; so, taking all things into consideration, I do not think there is much chance of our ever seeing anything of them again. The consequences will be, that, on our arrival at Bombay, I shall be obliged to get an entire new fit out, and as the campaign has drained me dry, I shall be obliged to draw upon my father for it; however, I will repay him by the end of the year, as by that time the Company will have given us half a year’s full batta, which they intend doing as a sort of indemnification for the losses we have sustained on the campaign; my batta will be about 72l.
I do not think I have any more to say, and as the January overland sails on the 25th, I hope this letter will reach Bombay in time to go by it, as well as my father’s. By-the-bye, how is old Nelly? If she has any good pups, I wish you would manage to keep one for me, as I expect the old girl will be either dead or very old by the time I return. I am longing to get out of the “Sick-list,” as the thickets here near the river are full of partridges and hares, and the climate, at this time of the year, is very cool and pleasant. My rheumatism is much better since I was wounded; but I still have it in my left arm. Well, no more; but wishing you, and all, a happy new year.
Believe me ever your very affectionate
Camp, Curachee, Feb. 14th, 1840.