How does one light a fire? Get fuel, strike match, light fuel. Simple, if say, the fuel is LPG. But what if the fuel is wood? Ah, so here’s a tale of February 1978, Missamari, Assam.
My friend Vishnu and I set out on a trek up to the Tenga Valley. We drove to the last camp at “Foothills”, and started out on foot at 6 a.m. The path was mostly not traceable, because the Army had ceased to use it after roads were constructed many years ago.
We planned to complete the trek in two days with one night out, though we had no idea where that would be. Besides sleeping bags, water bottles, canned food, and yes, rum, we carried dahs to cut our way through undergrowth on the route through the dense Sonai Rupai forest.
After a tiring climb through forested hills, and just as light was fading, we were relieved to reach a forest road and chanced upon a dilapidated shed without walls, with a small hut next to it. A forest guard, Samru, lived there alone with no humans for miles around. He was happy to see us, just as we too were, to find shelter for the cold night ahead.
Samru immediately invited us to sleep inside his hut, because, he said, “Haathi bhi aata hai, sher bhi aata hai.” But the inside of the hut assured us that our chances of survival with elephant and tiger were better. So we politely declined his genuine offer, and laid our sleeping bags on the floor of the shed.
Night songs
In the gathering darkness, Samru brought us some firewood from his stock for a fire to warm us. He was amused at our failure to light the fire. He took the matchbox, and deftly lit the fire just as the forest’s night songs began.
In the light of the fire, we took out our rum bottle and invited Samru to join us. He brought a mug from his hut, and we poured him a generous portion. Observing that we added water to the rum, he said, “Sahib-log paani peethe hain!” and laughed loudly, though not offensively. He knocked back his rum and we refilled his mug, while he regaled us with tales of encounters with wild animals. We believed him, of course, but we also appreciated that he was genuinely concerned for our safety sleeping in the open.
When Samru was about to retire to his hut, I asked him how we could keep the fire going all night. He told me to add sticks to the fire — pretty obvious, so it was a stupid question.
Vishnu and I ate our canned food, got into our sleeping bags, and added some sticks to the fire. Then I pushed one already burning stick further into the fire — and the fire just died out!
We were incompetent to relight the fire and besides, Samru would have been in a rum-addled stupor. So we took the easy option — tired and warmed by rum, sleep came quickly. It is certain that both elephant and tiger visited us that night.
The takeaway from this is that most cannot light a woodfire and some cannot even keep it burning.
sg9kere@live.com
