In the Track of the Troops

In the Track of the Troops, by
R.M. Ballantyne

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Title: In the Track of the Troops
Author: R.M. Ballantyne
Release Date: June 6, 2007 [EBook #21705]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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TRACK OF THE TROOPS ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE.
CHAPTER ONE.
A TALE OF MODERN WAR.

REVEALS THE EXPLOSIVE NATURE OF MY EARLY CAREER.
The remarkable--I might even say amazing--personal adventures which
I am about to relate occurred quite recently.
They are so full of interest to myself and to my old mother, that I
hasten to write them down while yet vivid and fresh in my memory, in
the hope that they may prove interesting,--to say nothing of elevating
and instructive--to the English-speaking portions of the human race
throughout the world.
The dear old lady to whom I have just referred--my mother--is one of
the gentlest, meekest, tenderest beings of my acquaintance. Her regard
for me is almost idolatrous. My feelings towards her are tinged with
adoration.
From my earliest years I have been addicted to analysis.
Some of my younger readers may not perhaps know that by analysis is
meant the reduction of compound things to their elements--the turning
of things, as it were, inside out and tearing them to pieces. All the
complex toys of infancy I was wont to reduce to their elements; I
turned them inside out to see what they were made of, and how they
worked. A doll, not my own, but my sister Bella's, which had moveable
eyelids and a musical stomach, was treated by me in this manner, the
result being that I learned little, while my poor sister suffered much.
Everything in my father's house suffered more or less from this
inquiring tendency of my mind.
Time, however, while it did not abate my thirst for knowledge,
developed my constructive powers. I became a mechanician and an
inventor. Perpetual motion was my first hobby. Six times during the
course of boyhood did I burst into my mother's presence with the
astounding news that I had "discovered it at last!" The mild and trustful
being believed me. Six times also was I compelled to acknowledge to
her that I had been mistaken, and again she believed me, more
thoroughly, perhaps, than at first. No one, I think, can form the least
idea of the delight with which I pursued this mechanical

will-o'-the-wisp.
Growing older, I took to chemistry, and here my love for research and
analysis found ample scope, while the sufferings of my father's
household were intensified. I am not naturally cruel--far from it. They
little knew how much pain their sufferings caused me; how earnestly I
endeavoured to lessen or neutralise the nuisances which the pursuit of
science entailed. But I could not consume my own smoke, or prevent
explosions, or convert bad and suffocating odours into sweet smells.
Settling down to this new pursuit with intense enthusiasm, I soon began
to flow in my natural course, and sought to extend the bounds of
chemical knowledge. I could not help it. The particular direction in
which my interest ultimately became concentrated was that of
explosives.
After becoming acquainted with gun-cotton, nitro-glycerine, dynamite,
lithofracteur, and other combinations of powerfully-explosive agents, I
took to searching for and inventing methods by which these might be
utilised. To turn everything to good account, is a desire which I cannot
resist.
Explosives naturally drew my attention to mines--tin-mines, coal-mines,
and other commercial enterprises. They also suggested war and
torpedoes.
At that time I had not reflected on the nature of war. I merely knew it to
be a science, cultivated chiefly by the human race, and that in its
practice explosives are largely used. To "blow-up" effectively, whether
in a literal or figurative sense, is difficult. To improve this power in war,
and in the literal sense, I set myself to work. I invented a torpedo,
which seemed to me better than any that had yet been brought out. To
test its powers, I made a miniature fortification, and blew it up. I also
blew up our groom, Jacob Lancey.
It happened thus:--
The miniature fortress, which was made of cardboard, earth, and bricks,

was erected in a yard near our stables. Under its walls the torpedo was
placed, and the match lighted.
It was night and very dark. I had selected the