DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.3462#0047
SETTLING INTO CAMP 27
of it. What we did was simply to rise at day-
break, paint in the early morning, and go back to
breakfast. The getting of the breakfast used to
be rather difficult. There were very few servants,
and they were men of different nationalities.
Some of them were Chinese. One had to order
things by pantomime, and sometimes it was quite
three-quarters of an hour before we could get
what we wanted. We always wrote an order for
a carriage, and what time it was to call, the day
before. All the tonga and carriage business at
the camp was wonderfully well arranged. After
breakfast we usually went to the camp of one of
the native chiefs or to some big ceremony. In
the afternoon there were always polo and football
matches; but while these things were going on,
we were always painting in the streets or in the
native camps.
At the end of the Durbar it was extraordinary
to see the worn-out aspect of the people who
were presumably enjoying the holiday. They had
seen too much; they were tired; it must have
been a relief to them when it was all over. We
in the Press Camp enjoyed every minute, and, as
we one and all said afterwards, we should like to
have had the whole fortnight of ceremonials over
of it. What we did was simply to rise at day-
break, paint in the early morning, and go back to
breakfast. The getting of the breakfast used to
be rather difficult. There were very few servants,
and they were men of different nationalities.
Some of them were Chinese. One had to order
things by pantomime, and sometimes it was quite
three-quarters of an hour before we could get
what we wanted. We always wrote an order for
a carriage, and what time it was to call, the day
before. All the tonga and carriage business at
the camp was wonderfully well arranged. After
breakfast we usually went to the camp of one of
the native chiefs or to some big ceremony. In
the afternoon there were always polo and football
matches; but while these things were going on,
we were always painting in the streets or in the
native camps.
At the end of the Durbar it was extraordinary
to see the worn-out aspect of the people who
were presumably enjoying the holiday. They had
seen too much; they were tired; it must have
been a relief to them when it was all over. We
in the Press Camp enjoyed every minute, and, as
we one and all said afterwards, we should like to
have had the whole fortnight of ceremonials over