In the middle of the town, and surrounded by a spacious fenced-in compound, which sloped gently to the lake, stood the Planters’ Club, a large low roofed bungalow, with a roomy wide verandah in front.  Here we met, when business or pleasure brought us to ‘the Station.’  Here were held our annual balls, or an occasional public dinner party.  To the north of the Club stood a long range of barrack-looking buildings, which were the opium godowns, where the opium was collected and stored during the season.  Facing this again, and at the extremity of the lake, was the district jail, where all the rascals of the surrounding country were confined; its high walls tipped at intervals by a red puggree and flashing bayonet wherever a jail sepoy kept his ’lonely watch.’  Near it, sheltered in a grove of shady trees, were the court houses, where the collector and magistrate daily dispensed justice, or where the native moonsiff disentangled knotty points of law.  Here, too, came the sessions judge once a month or so, to try criminal cases and mete out justice to the law-breakers.

We had thus a small European element in our ‘Station,’ consisting of our magistrate and collector, whose large and handsome house was built on the banks of another and yet lovelier lake, which joined the town lake by a narrow stream or strait at its southern end, an opium agent, a district superintendent of police, and last but not least, a doctor.  These formed the official population of our little ‘Station.’  There was also a nice little church, but no resident pastor, and behind the town lay a quiet churchyard, rich in the dust of many a pioneer, who, far from home and friends, had here been gathered to his silent rest.

About twelve miles to the north, and near the Nepaul boundary, was the small military station of Legoulie.  Here there was always a native cavalry regiment, the officers of which were frequent and welcome guests at the factories in the district, and were always glad to see their indigo friends at their mess in cantonments.  At Rettiah, still further to the north, was a rich rajah’s palace, where a resident European manager dwelt, and had for his sole society an assistant magistrate who transacted the executive and judicial work of the subdistrict.  These, with some twenty-five or thirty indigo managers and assistants, composed the whole European population of Chumparun.

Never was there a more united community.  We were all like brothers.  Each knew all the rest.  The assistants frequently visited each other, and the managers were kind and considerate to their subordinates.  Hunting parties were common, cricket and hockey matches were frequent, and in the cold weather, which is our slackest season, fun, frolic, and sport was the order of the day.  We had an annual race meet, when all the crack horses of the district met in keen rivalry to test their pace and endurance.  During this high carnival, we lived for the most part under canvass, and had friends from far and near to share our hospitality.  In a future chapter I must describe our racing meet.