NOTES OF CEYLON
The voyage across the straits to Colombo proved to be wonderfully calm,
which was rather unusual as we understood it was as a rule tempestuous,
and we did not find our cabin nearly so hot as our room at Madura.
We sighted the coast of Ceylon early in the morning of February 16,
and got into harbour at Colombo about 8 A.M. A fleet of fishing boats
had previously passed us, of the curious native rig—a square sail
apparently arranged to sail before the wind only. Our steamer was soon
surrounded by a little fleet of odd shaped outrigger canoes, some of
them mere planks, paddled by active little darkie boys, who dived for
small silver coins if they could induce the passengers to throw them.
These little amphibians seemed as much at home in the water as in their
canoes, and they swam like fishes.
Our good friend Mr Bois sent a messenger on board to meet us and help
us through the customs, having secured us rooms at the Galle Face. Most
things are chargeable under the tariff, but the traveller pays duty on
his own valuation.
The steamer did not land its passengers at the quay, but anchored in
the harbour, and everyone landed in boats. The Hotel boats, manned by
native oarsmen, row swiftly to the Custom House, and often race each
other. After passing the customs we got into a little Victoria and
drove straight to the Galle Face.
[Illustration: LANDING AT COLOMBO]
Not much can be said for the architectural beauty of Colombo, the
buildings being, generally speaking, of ordinary commercial type. The
Grand Oriental Hotel, or G.O.H. as it is commonly called, is a big pile
near the harbour, and has an arcade surrounding the ground story, like
most of the stores, and continuous balconies above, partitioned off
according to the rooms which open on to them. Here and there there is
a relic of the Dutch occupation in some of the frontages with round
recessed arches and pilasters.
The Governor’s house, as usual, is the most attractive looking
building, half hidden amidst masses of palms and other trees. A rather
bold clock tower faces a long esplanade, which extends for nearly half
a mile along the sea front, at the end of which is situated the Galle
Face Hotel, with its cluster of slender-stemmed cocoa palms leaning
over the sea. Here, the long ocean breakers rolling in, the turquoise
waves melting into dazzling foam, seen through the palm trees has
an enchanting effect, both in the sunlight and the moonlight. There
was a young crescent at night—seen, as only seen in the East, on its
back—floating like a fairy boat, and casting a mysterious light over
the dark ocean, the waving palms overhead and the sound of the breaking
waves adding to the wonderful charm of the scene.
Jin-rickshaws were in great request, but the supply seemed fully equal
to the demand, and the esplanade was always full of the trotting boys
drawing white clad Europeans in topis up and down the terra-cotta
coloured road. There was a wide, green strip extending along the drive,
and on the other side of the suburbs of Colombo extended northwards,
chiefly native houses, and bungalows of European residents often
enclosed in gardens and hidden in ample foliage of trees.
[Illustration: UNDER THE PALMS AT THE GALLE FACE, CEYLON]
The hotel was served by an army of Cingalese waiters who wore their
hair much like the southern Indians—long, like a woman’s, and done up
in a knot at the back, their peculiar distinction, however, being a
semicircular comb of tortoise-shell worn like a coronet on the top of
the head, but with the open points in front. Otherwise their costume
consisted of a close white skirt, and a neat white jacket with green
facings. Their feet were always bare, like the Indian boys.
[Illustration: COMMON OBJECTS OF COLOMBO. (JIN-RICKSHAWUS BIPEDES)]
There was a band at dinner, served in a vast white hall, and after, on
the terrace, when the guests would sit out among the palms lighted up
by jewels of electric light. The white breakers foaming under the moon,
the shadowy waving palms, the sky flashing with sheet lightning, the
brilliantly lighted hotel, and the white figures flitting about “among
the guests star-scattered on the grass,” all contributed to a striking
stage effect.
[Illustration: A CINGALESE WAITER]
The hotel was certainly spacious and well appointed, having large cool
corridors and rooms to sit in—comparatively cool that is to say, and
without the gloom of so many of the Indian hotels. In the matter of
food, cookery, and the service too, it was a great improvement on the
Peninsula. There were electric fans everywhere in motion, and we could
always turn one on in our room—which was normally an oven. The draft
from these fans, however, are said to be apt to give people chills, and
some caution in their use in bedrooms is necessary.
We visited our friends in their charming house—one of the older style
of Colombo dwellings, in a delightful garden where afternoon tea
was served on a pleasant lawn shaded by fine trees, among which we
recognised the forest flame, which with its wonderful scarlet blossoms
had struck us on the way to Darjeeling, though not then in flower here.
Another day Mr Bois took us out for a drive in his motor all around
Colombo and its neighbourhood. We went through the town and along by
the dry dock, and through the native quarter (Zeppa or Teppa) and away
through narrow lanes shaded by cocoa palms, plantains, banyans, mangoes
and other trees growing with tropical luxuriance each side the way, in
plantations, and around the bungalows.
The motor seemed a strange vehicle in the midst of the primitive life
of the Cingalese; and it is said that extremes meet, and certainly a
motor and a primitive ox-wagon represent about the greatest contrast
in means of locomotion and transport that one can well imagine. It
was rather wonderful that we escaped a collision sometimes meeting
such vehicles in the narrow lanes, or that we avoided running over
stray chickens or dogs—the latter kind always resenting the motor and
imperilling their lives by running and barking in close proximity with
the enemy. The natives we met walking, too, were by no means alert in
getting out of the way, and did not seem to realise the danger.
[Illustration: IN CEYLON—EXTREMES MEET—THE MOTOR AND THE OX-CART]
We passed mission houses and churches of all sorts, and of every
shade of theological colour—Wesleyans, Roman Catholics, and Salvation
Army—all the plagues of sectarian Christianity which afflict humanity
in Europe, alas!
Our friend said, à propos of some remarks of mine about the ignorance
and indifference of missionaries as to native religions and their
natural suitability to the races, and their habits of life and the
climates where they are found, that he had cautioned missionaries
against running down the native religion. This in Ceylon, is mainly
Buddhist (and Buddha surely discovered something analogous to Christian
ethics, if not superior, long before Christ). The Tamils are Buddhists,
but there are some Hindus and Mohammedans in Ceylon, and even pure
Buddhism is mingled in some curious way with a primitive devil-worship.
We saw the golf links and a golf club house—quite _à la Anglaise_—on a
rising ground and bare of trees, for a wonder in Ceylon. It appeared
that these links occupied the site of a farm which did not succeed.
Then we saw the river, where an engineer’s iron bridge had taken the
place of a former bridge of boats. Colombo must have largely lost
its primitive and Dutch character when the old Fort was destroyed.
This has been replaced by terribly ugly Barrack buildings, and the
town is rapidly becoming a modern commercial centre, big warehouses
and universal provider’s stores are rising up after the European or
American type. The native character, however, manifests itself still,
peeping out here and there, especially in the older shops, and there
is more native costume to be seen than one had imagined. The country
ox-cart is a striking object with its huge tilt of matting projecting
forward and backward like a hood, the single zebu by which it is
usually drawn appearing small for the size of the vehicle.
We did not see many native women about, but those we did see wore the
native dress, consisting of a white bodice, cut round and rather low in
the neck, with a lace edging; a necklace and earrings, and the narrow
skirt wrapped about the lower half of the figure to the feet generally
printed with a pattern, or chequered, similar to that worn by the men.
We drove round by the Cinnamon gardens, and rested at a club house—a
mixed European Club—a pleasant house with a large and well-kept croquet
lawn in front where ladies were playing. We sat a while, after being
refreshed and making some new acquaintances, we returned in the motor
to our hotel.
We had thunder and lightning at night. The lightning flashing almost
incessantly all over the heavens, but mostly from great clouds rolling
up from the north and east.
While sitting at tea in the hall of the Galle Face one afternoon we met
an old friend in the person of Mr Cyril Holman Hunt, the son of the
famous pre-Raphaelite painter, who had been a planter for some years,
first in Ceylon and afterwards in the Straits, from which he had just
arrived. So that it was quite a chance our meeting, as he was not even
staying at the same hotel.
The same evening the officers of the Italian warship _Marco Polo_
were entertained at dinner at the Galle Face, and their band played
selections afterwards.
The scene in the hall of a Colombo hotel is always busy, but in a
different way to a European hostelry—one might almost say it was
feverish haste in the midst of languid indolence—a ballet of energetic
action before a crowd of unconcerned spectators. While some are in
the fuss of departure or arrival, rows of enervated travellers lounge
in wicker chairs, reading, chatting, smoking, or engaged with tea
or cooling drinks, mostly attired in white; many of the ladies in
delicate summer dresses, the men in white drill or tussore suits. All
nationalities are represented, the majority American, and mostly people
waiting for their steamers outward or homeward.
Most visitors to Ceylon make a trip to Kandy, and one morning early saw
us on our way thither. The railway carriages are good and comfortable,
but they do not allow the stacking of hand luggage in them as they do
to such an extent on the Indian railways. The train passed through
a very rich and fruitful-looking country, where the paddy crops in
different stages—under water, green and ripe or being reaped and
thrashed—reminded us of India. The fields were generally surrounded by
groves of plantains and palms.
The vegetation being most luxuriant everywhere: banyans, mangoes, and
flowering trees of different kinds including spireas and the “forest
flame” we saw at Darjeeling; tangled masses of creepers hanging from
the boughs, and often covering the whole tree. Several rivers were
crossed the red earth showing on their banks, and the water generally
tinged with the same.
We reached Kandy about 11.15, the train ascending to this place about
4400 feet. The line curving up the slopes so that we could frequently
see the engine and forepart of the train rounding the loop in front
of us. We could only secure a room for one night at the hotel (the
Queen’s), so that we had to make the most of our time. Accordingly,
after tiffin, we started in a carriage for what the hotel people
prosaically called “No. 2. drive” (!).
Skirting the large tank or lake in front of the hotel, which has a
solid stone palisading around it cut into points and pierced, we
ascended a steep road, winding up the hills through lovely woodlands,
at every turn presenting fine mountainous and panoramic views of
the country. Beautiful clusters of bamboo of enormous size occurred
frequently, the stems very thick and of an oxidized bronze colour,
varying from dark to light. Another kind had bright golden coloured
stems, and a lighter, more feathery foliage. Cocoa palms, plantains,
and mangoes were abundant, also cinnamon plants. A native boy offered
us a cocoa bean pod, and a spray of cinnamon—a pretty tree with a
tassel-like flower. There were also large trees bearing massive
pendulous fruits, which grow directly out of the trunk suspended on
very short stalks in clusters of two and three. This fruit was called
“Jack fruit.” It looked like a sort of gigantic walnut, and was
covered with a soft green velvety kind of rind. The leaves of this tree
was small and poplar-like in shape. The brilliant scarlet lily-like
bloom of a dark leaved shrub was often seen, the flower having long
stamens hanging out like a tassel.
The various drives which had been made over the hills and through these
great woods were apparently named after different governors’ wives.
There was Lady Longden’s drive, Lady Macarthy’s, Lady Horton’s, and
so on. We sometimes had the impression, as the carriage followed the
gravelled curves of these drives, that we were approaching some country
seat among the hills. The drives, though well planned for points of
view, and well kept, were, perhaps, a little too suggestive of the
landscape gardener, a little too conscious and laid out to order, to
be thoroughly enjoyable. We should have preferred to see the untouched
work of the original designer of Ceylon scenery. The natural wild
country unanglicised—though I know I should be told that without such
roads and clearings one would not be able to see the country at all.
We British, somehow, always seem to carry suburban ideas with us
everywhere, and English trimness and neatness even out into the
tropical wilderness. We passed neat homes surrounded by smooth tennis
and croquet lawns, as if bits of Chiselhurst or Surbiton had been
suddenly dumped down in the midst of all this wonderful world of
luxuriant growth and unfamiliar trees, and close to native huts of the
most primitive kind.
The native roof here, as at Darjeeling, appeared to be either thatch
or wooden shingles, and here, again, we were sorry to see corrugated
iron creep into use everywhere.
The most primæval sight we had was perhaps that of the elephants
bathing in the river. This was at a spot close to a native village,
where we left our carriage and, walking through a grove, came out on
the river shore where five or six black elephants—one a large one with
fine tusks—were disporting themselves in the water, in charge of native
attendants, rolling over on their sides and squirting the water over
themselves by means of their trunks with the greatest enjoyment. The
water was rather thick and reddish in colour from the clay of the banks.
On the way back to the hotel we passed the famous Buddhist Temple of
the Tooth with its pagoda-like roof, but it looks but an insignificant
building to be the centre of Buddhistic reverence and tribute.
This was a lovely moonlight night, and the walk by the lake would have
been perfect but for the touts and vendors of all sorts of things that
you do not want.
We left Kandy the next morning for Nuwara-Eliya; our travelling
companions were two Germans from Berlin, father and son. The train
continued to climb, the line curving more sharply than before. We saw
some fine mountain distances and Adam’s Peak rising up afar, and soon
entered a vast tea-planted district, the tea plants often bordering the
railway line, and covering the slopes of the hills which seemed covered
with a more or less regular green pattern, the dark velvety green
of the tea plants intersected by the light feathery foliage of young
rubber-trees, planted in regular rows at intervals in some places. The
landscape was very clear and every detail sharply defined in the bright
sunlight, with very little suggestion of atmosphere, except for the
mountain distances which were deep blue.
[Illustration: TEA PLANTATION, CEYLON
“She liked coffee, and I liked tea,
And that is the reason we always agree!”
]
In the afternoon about four or five o’clock we reached Nunnoya station,
where we had to change into a narrow-gauge train to finish the last
part of the journey to Nuwara-Eliya. We continued to climb in shorter
and more loop-like curves, being able often to gaze down on the line
we had just traversed winding below like a glittering serpent among
the wooded hills and tea plantations. Tea everywhere, and not a drop
to drink—yet suggesting potentially more than the whole world could
consume.
Something after five found us at Nuwara-Eliya where we got into a
wagonette, and a good pair of greys brought us through the village to
the St Andrews Hotel, a very pleasant homelike place in a nice garden
and backed by beautiful woods. The original house looked as if it might
have been a private residence, and there was just a touch of Rydal
Mount about it and its situation, at the first glance, but a new wing
had been added with a tin-roof, and there was a golf course in the
valley just below.
The valley is very beautiful, with its richly wooded hills and a lake
with blue mountainous distance. Delicate feathery, aspen-like trees
wave in the soft air, and there are numbers of firs and cypresses which
give an Italian touch to the landscape, but no palms. In fact, the
whole character of the country is totally different from Colombo and
Kandy. The climate, too, is much cooler, the thermometer falling to 40
degrees at night, or even to frost, though the sun is hot enough in the
middle of the day.
There is a native bazaar, and an English quarter with a red club
house, tennis courts, and a race-course—of course. St Andrews,
however, where we were quartered, was quite away by itself, and was
altogether perhaps the pleasantest place we had stayed at either in
India or Ceylon. It was possible, for one thing, to walk out without
being worried by guides and touts, or to buy things. The climate was
delightful after the enervating heat of Colombo, and there being hardly
any other guests the quiet of the place was a great relief and very
restful.
One afternoon we had a walk up the opposite hills, the track being
mostly through tea-plantations, with forest bits occasionally. The
tea tree left to itself apparently grows high on a stem, having a
very striking character and shape, suggesting almost the stone-pine.
The small, thick-stemmed, closely-trimmed, flat-headed dwarf bushes
which are its characteristic forms in the tea plantations also have an
interesting effect in some situations on the hill-sides, intersected
by wandering paths whereon the dark natives move up and down. The
tea-plant has a leaf somewhat of the character of a laurel or orange
tree, and its flower recalls that of the orange. Ceylon tea when made
is of a beautiful clear orange colour—I mean when poured from the pot.
The Hagdalla gardens, founded by the government in 1861, well repay a
visit, and are deeply interesting to anyone interested in the flora of
Ceylon. It is a drive of about six miles; passing through the native
village, and by the English Club and race-course, the lake is skirted,
and after that the road takes the character rather of a mountain pass,
and runs along the edge of a deep wooded ravine down which a rocky
stream tumbles into falls over boulders. There was just a touch of a
sort of Borrowdale, translated into Cingalee, about this part of the
drive. The wild forest which clad the hills each side of the valley was
very different in character and colour to anything seen in Europe, the
trees showed the most lovely tints of varied bronze, from pale green to
copper red. The tea tree was abundant, and the rhododendron, which here
is totally different in character and general shape to the cultivated
shrub-like bushes in English gardens. Here it is a thick-stemmed tree,
with a rugged bark, and a bold irregular outline with rather sparse
leavage and deep crimson flowers which glow splendidly among the dark
metallic green of the leaves. There is a sort of formal grotesqueness
about the tree, too, which is rather Chinese.
On the way through the ravine, at a solitary spot below the road, we
saw a Buddhist shrine. On a little platform surrounded by a rough fence
of loose stones, and facing the road, was a row of carved images, in
some dark wood, standing figures of Buddha. In front of this rude
structure we saw a native worshipper prostrating himself on the edge of
the road, and bowing and bending towards the shrine.
The Magdalla gardens are botanic and horticultural gardens laid out
with great care and skill on the slope of a mountain. They apparently
contain all the varieties of trees and plants indigenous to Ceylon.
Tree ferns are there in abundance, flowering trees of many kinds,
and parasitic plants, and orchids in great variety, growing in their
natural manner. As one threads the narrow wandering paths it is as if
one passed through a thick jungle or tropical forest, only that the
walking is made easy, and botanical labels here and there, and signs of
gardener’s care and labour, remind one it is a garden.
There is a keeper’s lodge, in this Cingalese paradise, covered with
creepers, and a formal level parterre in front, one mass of brilliant
floral colour—African marigolds, fuchsias, poppies, _blue_ centred
daisies, sunflowers, blue convolvulus, Amaryllis, and white eucharis
lilies, canaryensis, polyanthus and many more; some that might be found
in English gardens and hot-houses, with other tropical wonders only
seen at Kew.
After a ramble here we returned to the carriage, and drove back through
the now burning sun.
Gorse grows about the links and open common-like ground in the valley
at Nuwara-Eliya, though the bushes seem to grow rather taller and
straighter than they do in England. Instead of our lords and ladies,
arum lilies grow wild. Great clusters of them may be seen by the sides
of streams or in marshy places. The woods were delightful to wander in,
and altogether Nuwara-Eliya might make good claims to be an earthly
paradise, other things being equal.
We had taken our passage, however, from Colombo, and were due to sail
for home on the 2nd of March. It was now the 28th of February, and
we had to make our way back again, descending from Il Paradiso to
a certainly hotter region. The descent by the narrow gauge railway
was even more striking than the ascent, the train passing through
luxuriant growths of forest in which tree-ferns, rhododendrons, the tea
tree, and what looked like a sort of box tree were abundant.
The rubber-trade in Ceylon is now being added to the tree-trade,
which, according to our competitive wasteful individualistic system,
has somewhat outgrown its profitable market. One effect of this new
development upon the landscape is devastation, as large tracts of wild
forest on the mountain sides are being cleared by burning the natural
growth in the first place, and then removing the stones and boulders
which cumber the ground. This process does not add to the beauty of the
scenery, nor can we expect that monotonous plantations will be good
substitutes to the eye for the wild beauty and varied and luxuriant
vegetation they displace.
The Englishman in Ceylon seems to think of nothing but profit-making,
however, like many of his race elsewhere; and is probably often even
unaware of the beauty he destroys for commercial reasons, and he is
always able to import cheap coolie labour from India to carry out his
schemes.
The Cingalese native it seems is unwilling to work, or probably has not
the physique for heavy field labour, so he prefers to live the natural
life of his country so far as he is allowed by his new masters, and of
course is denounced as a lazy dog.
Ceylon, indeed, one cannot help reflecting must have been a delightful
paradise, if somewhat warm in parts, for its own people, before
they were interfered with by western civilisation, with its pushful
commerce, and missions, bringing in their train poverty and disease,
and the struggle for existence, in a land naturally fruitful and
bountiful, and able to support its inhabitants without any special
efforts on their part.
[Illustration: TEA AND RUBBER IN CEYLON—A RISING INDUSTRY]
The planters are now clamouring for railway extension. In an interview
which the Editor of _The Ceylon Times_ sought with me I gathered that
there was considerable discontent with the Home Government, who, he
asserted, had derived greatly increased revenues from the extension of
rubber planting and the new development of the industry, but who would
not grant money for the desired extensions, the advice given by the
present secretary for the colonies being to the effect that the Ceylon
people should save their money, or “put by for a rainy day.”
Of course the Editor’s point of view was that of the capitalist, and
that the more the country was opened up the better, and he did not care
to consider the effects of the ultimate outcome of the monopoly which
absorbs the results of and succeeds commercial competition.
He spoke, however, incidentally of the increase of poverty—poverty
in such a land!—and that there was no poor law _yet_. He said the
Cingalese would not work, and had even neglected the irrigation
machinery which had been set up by the planters for their benefit, _in
obedience to the requirements of the home government_.
This would seem to show the difficulty of introducing ostensible
benefits in a primitive country which has not reached the necessary
stage of development to be able to take advantage of, or really to
utilise, modern methods. From the point of view of the simple native
no doubt there does not appear to be any reason why he should change
the habits and customs of his race simply for the benefit of foreign
settlers whose chief object is to exploit him.
Changing trains at Nunnoya we were again greatly impressed by the
splendour of the scenery traversed. For a great part of the distance
towards Kandy and Colombo, the line passes through a mountainous
district, at a high altitude, gradually descending, the line following
the contours of the hill-sides for the most part, though tunnelled
occasionally. One looks across a wide valley with distant mountain
ranges, ridge beyond ridge, in marked and emphatic outlines, and
occasionally abrupt precipices—the sharp conical summit of Adam’s
Peak conspicuous among them. The hill-sides are largely covered with
tea-plantations, but the railway also passes through wild bush and
forest, and high above one may see great towering crags of limestone
and gritstone. Mountain streams are frequently crossed, and these break
into cascades and falls among tumbled black rocks; great boulders
frequently strew the mountain slopes as if tumbled by Titans among the
foliage. There is occasionally a suggestion of Derbyshire scenery here
and there, but on a grander scale.
After Kandy the line descends still more till we reach the palm groves
again, the river, and the lakes, and the heat of Colombo again. This
time on returning we put up at the G.O.H., which is conveniently near
the pier or departure stage for the steamers.
Here we met Mr Cyril Holman Hunt again, and were introduced to several
of his planter friends, who were very agreeable. There is a delightful
garden of palms and tropical plants here, which is a pleasant resort in
the cool of the evenings. With Mr Hunt we visited the Colombo Museum,
which was courteously opened specially for us, it not being a public
day. Here in a glass case and alive some extraordinary leaf-insects
arrested our attention. They were feeding on green leaves, which they
exactly resembled in colour, form, and texture, so that it would be
most difficult to tell which was leaf and which was insect without
closely watching them. The young ones were like the red shoots of a
plant, but the mature insects were quite green and quite flat like
a leaf while showing the ribs and veinings. One could hardly have
believed that nature, deceptive and imitative as she is, could have
been capable of such a trick. I remember that a native at Kandy had
shown me one of the green leaf insects in a box, but I thought it was
an artificial thing, which indeed it looks.
On the staircase were some copies of exceedingly interesting ancient
Cingalese fresco-paintings from caves, resembling ancient Indian work
in style, but in some instances showing a certain freedom in handling,
the brush outline recalling later Greek vase-painting.
There were excellent collections of native Cingalese decorative art
in jewellery, silver work, and ivory-carving, of which latter craft
some combs were the most delicate and interesting. There were also
block-printed stuffs similar to the Indian hand-printed cottons.
Among the jewellery, the necklaces of garnets and other stones set
in filagree gold were characteristic. There were models of native
boats of which there are several interesting varieties, and these
were exceptionally good life-sized models of types of the aboriginal
inhabitants (the Veddas)—the wild bush-tribes of Ceylon.
The natural history department was very complete, and the whole museum
judiciously comprehended the history, natural and archæological, of
the island, and included some highly interesting Greco-Buddhistic
sculptured remains, not so fine in style as those we had seen at
Sarnath, but there was the same type of standing figure in drapery
expressing the lines of the figure, and also portions of an “umbrella,”
showing a similar arrangement to the one at Sarnath, with the lotus
flower centre, and the series of concentric rings of ornament
containing the images of the lion, the horse, the ox, and the elephant
in sunk relief. There was also a zoological collection attached to the
museum in sheds and aviaries outside the main building—live animals and
birds, including leopards, jackals, monkeys, flamingoes, pelicans, and
a collection of small birds, minas, doves, etc.
The time, however, for our departure from Colombo drew near. Our
steamer the _Tourane_ of the Messageries Maritime line arrived
punctually on March the 2nd, calling at Colombo on her homeward voyage
from China, and the same evening saw us aboard.
We made our adieus, and our steamer cast off, or rather weighed anchor,
about sunset, and we were soon under way. The dinner-bell rang at 6.30,
and going on deck afterwards we saw the last of Colombo—a mere thread
of glittering beads of light on the horizon, and soon lost in the
darkness of night.
There was a large proportion of French people among the passengers, and
they were chiefly officials and their families returning on leave from
Chinese stations. They were exceedingly gay and lively, and always had
plenty of conversation. It was like a continual comedy going on with
much variety of character.
On the 7th day, after a voyage of undisturbed serenity over the Indian
ocean, the blueness of the sea varied only by the steamer’s track, and
the foam dancing into rainbows, with flying fish, or an occasional
turtle, or an albatross or two, which flapped heavily after us, we
sighted Aden, and rounded the striking rocky coast to cast anchor off
the port. Here the tugs brought up the coal lighters, and the cargo
boats, and the swarm of Soumalis, as before, and the usual bazaar
on deck took place, and the hauling of the coal and cargo went on
all through the night—the clamours of the coolies being occasionally
fiendish, and the din was often punctuated by bangs on an iron bar,
which sent a shiver through the ship. This was the method of giving
warning to the man engaged in the loading operations in the hold.
We afterwards learned that two poor coolies had lost their lives by
venturing into the hold before it had been ventilated, and the air was
so foul as to suffocate them, and a ship’s officer who went to their
rescue also became insensible for a time. It seemed much hotter, too,
now the ship was stationary.
Artillery practice was going on from the fort the next morning, and
we could see the shots strike the water. We did not get clear of Aden
till about 10 A.M., but at last the swarm of boats and swarthy Soumalis
left us, and the _Tourane_ entered on her course through the Red Sea,
and in due time passed Mocha (to starboard) and Perim (to port) and
the Arabian coast, the sea churned into foam by the steamer flashed
with phosphorescence at night,—the effect in the wake of the vessel
being very beautiful, green sparks appearing and floating on the
surface, and globes of subdued light glowed under the fleeting foam,
rapidly swept along and lost in the darkness of the night lit only by
stars—among which the Great Bear showed how much we had altered our
latitude.
The heat continued very great for three days after leaving Aden,
when it rather suddenly grew cooler, and by the time we passed “the
Brothers” towards evening on the 12th of March, the weather grew quite
grey and cloudy with a cold wind.
We reached Suez early on the morning of the 13th, and here it was fine
and bright again, though the air felt thin and cool. The colour of the
water had changed, too, and was now a fine clear turquoise—precisely
the colour of the Egyptian glass bracelets, but dark blue on the
horizon and against the land, which looked pink.
The drama of the official tug and the cargo boats was again performed,
and there was much hoisting of coffee-bags, in and out, and a taking of
fresh provisions on board. The Traders came aboard, too, with Fez caps,
bead and shell necklaces, post-cards, and other trifles. It was amusing
to see our French friends buying the Fez freely, and not only wearing
them themselves but putting them on the heads of their children. There
had already been some astonishing transformations in costume on board
since the cooler weather set in, topis and white drill being exchanged
for tweed suits and caps or felt hats, and, in some cases, smart
official uniforms with shakos.
We left Suez about the middle of the day and entered the canal, the
water still such a brilliant turquoise colour that the reflection in
the strong sunlight caused the white breasts of the sea-gulls, which
now followed our ship, to appear green.
[Illustration: A FEW TRIFLES THE WIFE WISHED TO BRING HOME FROM INDIA]
We made some very agreeable acquaintances on board, which made the time
pass more quickly, and we arrived at Port Said early on Friday the 14th
of March. The coaling _this_ time was a comparatively clean process,
the wind not being ahead as before. Some few of the passengers got off
for Egypt here, but we were soon under way again; and M. de Lèsseps’
large effigy, the green dome of the Custom House, the steamers, the
wharves, and the posters of Port Said soon all faded from view as we
bade farewell to the East and entered the Mediterranean on our way to
Marseilles, the last stage of our long voyage, where after some tossing
we had a passing vision of snow-capped Sicily, and the Lipari Islands,
with Stromboli still smoking away; and so, in due course, through
the straits of Bonifazio, with no further sea troubles, landed at
Marseilles on March 19, safe and sound.
INDEX
Abu, Mount, 62
Adam’s Peak, 302, 311
Aden, outward and homeward call at, 12–15, 314
Adinath, Jain, pontiff, 131
Adyar Library, 247
Afghanistan, Amir of, preparations for reception of—
At Agra, 113–114, 122;
at Gwalior, 135–136
Aga Khan, 29
Agra—
Journey to, from Jaipur, 112;
arrival—the hotel, 112–113;
Pearl mosque, 113;
drive to the Fort—Akbar’s great gate, 113–114;
the Taj Mahal, 114–118—
its garden, 118–119;
the Jama Musjid mosque, 119–120, 123;
drive to the mausoleum of Itmad-ud-Daulat, 120;
churches, 121;
bazaars, 122;
excursion to Sikandra—tomb of Akbar, 122–125;
otherwise mentioned, 97, 144, 145
Ahmed Khan, 50, 51, 151
Ahmedabad—
Journey to, from Bombay, 48–49;
drive through the city, 49 _et seq._;
mosques, 49–53;
cotton factories, 55;
bazaar and street life, 55–58;
native pottery, 58;
railway station, 62
Ajmir—
Journey to, from Ahmedabad, 62–63;
Akbar Fort, 64–65;
bazaars, 65–66, 70;
the Dargah, 66–68;
fort of Targarh, 67;
mosque of Arhai-din-ka-Jhonpra, 68;
Daulat Bagh, 68–69;
cantonments outside the native city, 69–70;
custom of nailing horse-shoes on the doors, 80
Akbar, Emperor, 64, 131, 155, 177;
tomb of, at Sikandra, 156
Alviella, Count Goblet d’, 41
Alcott, Colonel, 212, 247, 249
Alexandra, Queen, 13, 261
Altamash, 68
Altamsh, 157
Alu-ud-din, 80
Amber, deserted city and palace, 106–7
American tourists, 76, 84, 96–97, 134
Ammayanayakanur, 276
Amritzar—
Journey to, from Delhi, 161–162;
hotel touts, 162–163;
the hotel, 163–164;
drive through the—its open drains, 164;
the Golden Temple, 165–166;
carpet manufactory, 166–167;
interview with a native pedlar, 167–169;
the Atal tower, 169;
public gardens, 169;
departure for Lahore, 170
Anderson, Colonel, 185
Arab dhow, 15
Arabian coast, 12, 314
Arhai-din-ka-Jhonpra, mosque of, 68
Arjamand Bann, 117
Arnold, Sir Edwin, 118
Baker, Sir Samuel, 33
Bandakin, 112
Bapatia, 245
Bareilly, 45
Barielly, 184
Bearer, native, engagement of, 30–33
Bedding, need for travellers to supply their own, 35, 77
Begara, 59, 60
Benares—
Arrival at—Clark’s Hotel, 200, 216–217;
first impressions, 201;
the Guest house, 201–202, 205–206;
expedition to see the Buddhist remains at Sarnath, 201–205;
viewing the Ghats from the Maharajah’s peacock boat, 206–211;
the Burning Ghat, 209–210;
the Manikaranika Ghat and the Nepal Temple, 215–216;
pilgrims, 210;
the Golden Temple, 211;
Hindu College, 212;
the Monkey Temple, 212;
visit to the Maharajah in his palace, 213–215;
farewell glimpse of, 218
Bengal-Nagpur Railway, 241
Berhampore, 244
Besant, Mrs Annie, 212;
visit to, at Madras, 247–249
Bhutian peasants, 225–226, 235
Birdwood, Sir George, 29
Bitragunta, 245
Blavatsky, Madame, 249
Blow, Mr Detmar, 182
Bois, Mr, 290, 295
Bombay—
Impressions of, from the sea, 21;
the landing at, 21–23;
Malabar Hill, 21, 29–30;
street scenes, 24–25;
modern British buildings, 25–26;
Crawford market, 26;
bazaar, 26–28;
native wedding processions, 27–28;
Victoria Gardens, 28–29;
Victoria and Albert Museum, 29;
engagement of a native servant, 30–33;
oppressive heat, 46;
welcome of M. Dadabhai Naoroji to, 46–47;
cotton factories, 55
Bonifazio, straits of, 4, 317
Brahmans, 242
British administration, benefits of, discussed—causes of unrest,
141–143, 190–192, 199, 309–310
“Brothers, The,” lightship, 11, 315
Brown, Mr Percy, 179
Buddhism—
In Ceylon, 297;
remains of, at Sarnath, 201, 203–205—
the Great Tope, 205;
Temple of the Tooth, 302
Buffalo cow, 36
Burmese people, discontent of, under British rule, 199
Cactus plant, 75
Caine, Mr W. S., _cited_, 55, 109, 118, 131, 151
Calabrian coast, 4
Calcutta—
Races at, 29;
National Congress at, 46;
journey to, from Benares, 218–219;
impressions, 219;
the Minto Fête, 219–220;
a Hindu soothsayer at, 220–221;
industrial exhibition, 221–222;
general impressions, 222;
otherwise mentioned, 198
Campbell, Colin, 189
Candia, 5
Caroline, Queen, 202
Carpet manufactory at Amritzar, 166–167
Carts, native, 22–23, 55, 104–105
Cashmere travelling merchants, 181
Ceylon—
Notes of, 290 _et seq._;
decorative art of, 312;
native costumes in, 292–293, 298;
religion of, 297;
rubber trade in, 308–310;
tea-plantations of, 302–303, 305;
vegetation, luxuriant, and scenery, 299–301, 304–307, 310–311;
Western civilisation—its questionable benefits, 297, 301, 308–310
_Ceylon Times, The_, interview with editor of, 309–310
Charybdis, 4
Chitor, city of, 77–79
Chitorgarh—
Journey to, from Ajmir, 74–75;
night spent at, 75–77;
visit to the ruined fortress, 77, 79–81;
Tower of Victory, 81;
otherwise mentioned, 95, 108
Cinnamon tree, 300
_Clan Campbell_, s.s., 9
Clock towers, modern, in India, 194
Colombo—
Arrival at, 290–291;
general description of, 291–299;
garden of palms, 311;
museum, 311–313
Coromandel Coast, native costumes on, 242
Corsica, 4
Costumes, native, 56, 72;
in Southern India, 241–242, 252–253
Cotton factories, 55
Cotton yarn, preparation of, for hand weaving, 81
Cranes, white, 54
Crete, 5
Crows, Indian, 23
Cultivated Crops, 75
Cunningham, General, 205
Curzon, Lord, 119, 120, 122, 150
Cuttack, 241
Dacoits, 198–199
Daulatabad, 34, 36–37, 44–45
Dargah of Ajmir, 66–68
Darjeeling—
Journey to, from Calcutta, 223–226;
toy railway, 224–225;
general description, 226–227;
Woodlands’ hotel and its entertainments—the Tibetan masque, 227–232;
the town, 233–234;
walks and rides round, 235
Dauvergne, M., 33, 44, 45
Delhi—
Journey to, from Agra, 146–147;
arrival—British residential quarter—Kashmir Gate, 148–149;
Mutiny memorial, 149;
the palace—peacock throne, etc., 149–151;
Moti Musjid (Pearl mosque), 151;
Jama Musjid mosque, 151–152;
Jain temple, 152;
the Chandni Chouk, 152–154;
excursion to the Kutab Minar, 154–158;
mosque of Shin Shah, 155;
Old Delhi, 155;
ancient city of Indrapat, 155;
tomb of Humayun, 155–156;
cemetery of Nizam-ud-din, 156–157;
driving experiences, 159–160;
departure, 161;
otherwise mentioned, 99
Delwara, 62
Digby, Mr William, 141, 191
Dindigul, 276
Dinghra, Dr, 166
Dowden, Mrs, 189, 194
Driving in India, risks of, 159
Dutt, Mr Romesh, 1
Dyeing, native methods of, 57, 104
East India Company, 131
Eastern life, influence of Western ideas on, 56, 94, 141–143, 190–192,
199, 309–310
Edward VII., 47, 261
Egyptian religion, parallelism between the Hindu religion and, 258
Elephants—
Excursions on, 77–78, 82, 107;
bathing of, at Kandy, 302
Ellora, caves of—
Journey to, from Bombay, 33–38—and back again, 44–46;
temple of Kylas, 38–43;
Buddhist temples, 43;
village of Ellora, 44
Enamel, Champlévé, 179–180
Etna, Mount, 4
Everest, Mount, 235
Famines, native, 141
Flaxman, 259
Flying fish, 15–16
Food at refreshment stations, unsatisfactoriness of, 254
“Forest flame,” 224
French tourists, 96
Fruit-bats, 61
Funeral, native, 93–94
Ganesha, the elephant god, 41, 81, 256
Ganges, scenes at the Ghats at Benares, 206–211;
the Burning Ghat, 209–210
Gardens, Eastern type of, 100–101
Girgenti, 40
Glass, convex-mirror-mosaic work, 87, 177
Gohad, Rana of, 131
Grace, A. F., 132
Graham, Cunninghame, 248
Gramophones in India, 99
Green ray, phenomenon of, 16
Gunj Baksh, mosque and tomb of, 59–60
Gwalior—
Arrival at—the Guest house, 127–128, 134, 136–137;
tomb of Mohammed Ghaus, 128;
drive to the Fort, 128–132;
palace of the Man Mandir, 129, 138;
Jain Temples, 130;
new town (Lashkar), 131, 134–135;
visit to Maharajah’s palace, 132–133;
sunsets over the Rock, 137–138;
description of the old town, 138–140;
departure—scene at the railway station, 144
Hail and thunder storms combined, 237
Hardy, Miss, 1
Harrison, T. Erat, 194
Hathi Sing, shrine of, 58
_Herefordshire_, s.s., 9
Himalayas—
Climbing in the, 227–229;
snow peaks of, 232–233, 237
Hindu and Tamil MSS., library of, 260
Hindus—
Educated, debarred from high administrative posts, 142
Religion of—nature worship in, 41, 279–280;
parallelism between the Egyptian religion and, 258
Temples of—at Madura, 277–283;
at Seringham, 272–275;
at Tanjore, 255
Weddings of, 27–28
Women, 33, 45, 104, 174
Hiroshigi, 20
Horton, Lady, 301
Hotel life, picturesque feature of, 84–85
Humayun, Tomb of, 155
Hunt, Holman, 249
Hunt, Mr Cyril Holman, 298, 311
Hunter, Capt. J. B. Dalzell, 240
Hunuman, Hindu god, 41
Hunuman, the monkey god, temple of, at Benares, 212
Hyndman, Mr H. M., 142
India Office, policy of, 141–143, 190–192, 199, 309–310
Indian Ocean, incidents on voyage in, 17
Iqd-i-gul, or _The Rose Necklace_, 240–241
Irrigation wells, 170–171, 196;
of Southern India, 243–244
Ismailia, 9
Israelites, passage of, through the Red Sea, 11
Ivory carver’s workshop at Delhi, 153–154
Jack fruit, 300–301
Jagmandir, palace of, 88–91
Jahanara Begum, 156
Jahangir, 89
Jain pontiffs, sandstone carvings of, 131
Jain sect, persecution of, 279
Jain temples at—Ajmir, 68;
Chitorgarh, 81;
Delhi, 152;
Gwalior, 130;
Udaipur, 86–87
Jaipur—
Journey to, from Ajmir, 97;
first impressions, 97–99;
the city, “the rose-coloured city,” 99–100, 116;
bazaars, 101–102, 104–105, 110;
enamelled jewellery of, 101, 102;
spherical rolling lamps of, 102;
the Maharajah’s state elephant, 102–103;
the Maharajah’s palace, 103–104, 118;
street scenes, 105–106;
the Maharajah’s horses, 110–111
Jehan, Shah, 69, 89, 113, 114, 119, 150
Jhansi, 145
Jijibhai, Sir Jamsetji, 29
Jopling-Rowe, Mrs, 196
Jubbelteer, Island of, 12
Jugglers, native—the mango-tree trick, 187–188
Juggernath—
Temple of, 86–87;
festival of the Krishna at, 241
Juggernaut, pilgrims from, 242
Jullumpore, 161
Kali, goddess, 109
Kandy, visit to—its scenery and foliage, 299–302
Khusru, 156
Kinchin Junga, view of, 227, 232–233, 237
Kipling, Mr, 177, 179
Kites, Indian, 23–24, 110
Koh-i-noor diamond, the, 125
Krishna, festival of, 241
Kunja Sahib, shrine of, 66
Kutab Minar, 157–158
Kutab-ud-din, 157
_La Nera_, s.s., 2
Lahore—
Journey to, from Amritzar, 170–171;
the Charing Cross hotel, 171;
British residential and business quarter, 171–173, 178–179;
native quarter, 173–175;
bazaars, 175–176;
the Fort, 176–177;
the Samadh, 178;
Jama Musjid, 178;
Wazar Khan tiled mosque, 178, 181;
Courts of Justice, 179;
Museum, 179–180;
street scenes in, 181;
visit from the Princess Duleep Singh, 182;
departure for Lucknow, 182–183
Lamps, spherical rolling, 102, 222
Lashkar, 131, 134–135
Laurence, Lord, statue of, 179
Laurence, Sir Henry, 192
Leaf insects, 311–312
Lèsseps, M. de, 317
“Light of the World, The,” 249
Lipari Islands, 317
Longden, Lady, 301
Lucknow—
Journey to, from Lahore, 183–184;
Wurtzler’s hotel, 185;
in hospital, 185–186;
native jugglers—the mango-tree trick, 187–188;
ruins of the Residency, 189–190, 192;
the Sikander Bagh, 189–190;
Chatter Manzel, 192;
architecture of, 192–193;
Jama Musjid, 193;
the Iambara, 193–195;
bazaar of the old city, 194–195;
through the bazaar on elephants, 196–197;
the Martinière, 197–198
Lyons, 198
Macarthy, Lady, 301
Madura—
Scenery near, 276;
visit to the Great Temple, 276–283;
the Temple Courts, 283;
Teppa Tank, 284;
gigantic Banyan tree, 284;
palace of Tiramala, 284–285;
silk industry, 285–286;
table decorations at, 286
Madras—
Journey to, from Calcutta, 239–245;
arrival—the Castle Hotel, 245–246;
public buildings and street scenes, 246–247, 249–251;
temperature at, 247;
visit to the Adyar library, 247–249;
Toddy Tappus, 249;
jin-rickshaws, 249–250;
Botanic Gardens, 251
Mahmudshah, 59
Malabar Hill, 21, 29–30
Mandal, 75
Maratha chiefs, 151
Marble—
Piercing patterns in, 64–65;
suitability of Indian climate for preserving, 69
Marseilles, 2, 317
Martin, General or Captain—
Painting of, 193;
schools founded by, 197–198
Mayo, Lord, 100
Mecca, sign of having visited, on house walls, 8
Messina, 4
_Migration of Symbols_ (d’Alviella), cited, 41–42
Mirza Jahangir, tomb of, 156
Missionaries, indifference of, to native religions, 275, 297
Mocha, 12, 314
Mogul Emperors, private chapel of, 113
Mogul Serai, 218
Mohammedans—
Educated, debarred from high administrative posts, 142;
Tombs of, 8, 59–60;
Weddings among the, 27;
Women, 104, 174–175
Mongolian peasants, 225–226
Monkeys, silver grey, 53, 59
Moonsawmy, 33, 125–126, 183
Mori, 63
Morley, Mr John, 142
Moses, well of, 11
Moti Musjid, 113
Mulich, Dr, 1
Munmad, a night at, 34–36, 45
Muslin, native method of printing on, 70
Mussulman mosque of Arhai-din-ka-Jhonpra, 68
Mutiny, memorials of, 189–190;
provocative causes of, 190
Nadir Shah, 151
Naoroji, M. Dadabhi, welcome of, to Bombay, 46–47
Naisirabad, 74
Nelson, Lord, bust of, 260
Nemnath, Jain pontiff, 131
Nizam of Hyderabad, 36, 38
Nizam-ud-din, cemetery of, 156–157
Nunnoya, 303, 310
Nuwara-Eliya, 302;
scenery at, 304–305;
the Magdala Gardens, 305–307
Parsees—
Burial place of, 30;
Merchant, description of, 24;
Weddings among, 28
Parvati, goddess, 41, 109, 256
Paul, Lieutenant, 198
Perrim, 12, 314
_Picturesque India_ (W. S. Caine), quoted, 151
Pillai, Mr, 277–278
Pillour, 161
Plague, bubonic, 141
Ploughs, native, 74–75, 140
Ploughman, native, earnings of, 140
Poori, 241
Port Said, 316
Poverty of natives, 140–141, 143
Prang, Mr Louis, and Mrs Prang, 235–236
_Prosperous British India_ (Digby), cited, 141, 191
Rai, Mr Laipat, 142
Railway travelling in India—
Facilities for, 48–49;
native travellers, 70–72
Rajpootana, 63, 77, 79
_Ramayana_, 1
Rani Sipri, mosque of, 51
Readymoney, Sir Cowasji Jehangir, 29
Red Sea, passage of, 11–12, 314
_Rena_, s.s., 10
Rhododendron, Cingalese, 306
Rozah—
Drive to, from Daulatabad, 36–37;
description of a night at, 37–38
Rubber trade of Ceylon, 308–310
Russia, Czar of, 206, 282
Ryot, Indian, average earnings of, 141
Said, Port, visit to, 5–9
Salaams, custom as to, 73
Sara, crossing the Ganges at, 223–224, 237
Sarbarmati River, scenes on, 53–54, 58–59
Sardinia, 4
Sarkhai, excursion to, 58–61
Saunders, Mr and Mrs, 197
Scott, Mr Ross, 188, 198
Schwartz, 259
Scylla, 4
Seringham—
Religious procession at, 282;
Temple of, 272–275
Shaw, G. Bernard, 248
Sheep, fat-tailed, 176
Sicily, 4, 317
Sidi Sayyids’ Mosque, 51–52
Sikandra, excursion to—tomb of Akbar, 122–125
Sikhs, religious centre of, 166
Silignis, 225–226
Silk-weaving at—
Ahmedabad, 55, 56;
Vizianagram, 244;
Tanjore, 262;
Madura, 285–286
Silver Lake, 242
Sinai, Mount, 11
Sindhia, 131
Singh, Princess Duleep, 181–182
Siva, god—
Representations of, at Madura, 278, 279, 280, 281, 283;
sacred bull of, 255–256;
sacred mark of, 242, 253;
otherwise mentioned, 41, 109, 256
Sketching, native interest in, 283–284
Sorabji, Miss, 220
Soumalis at Aden, 13–15
South Kensington, Indian museum at, 52
Spartivento, Cape, 4
Squirrels, palm, 36, 59, 136
Stromboli, 317
Suez, call at, 10, 315
Suez Canal, passage through 9–10, 315–316
Sun, eclipse of, 167
Table decorations of Southern India, 286
Taj Mahal—
Visit to, and account of, 114–118;
gardens of, 118–119;
compared with the Itmad-ud-Daulat, 120;
moonlight visit to, 120–121;
sketches of, 121
Tamils, 297
Tanjore—
Journey to, from Madras, 251–254;
accommodation at, 254–255, 269;
the old fort and Hindu Temple, 255–258;
religious procession at, 258;
Christian church at, 258–259;
palace of the Maharajah, 259–261;
description of—street scenes, etc., 261–264;
decline of Western influence at, 263;
native theatre, 264–268;
native pedlars—Tanjore craftsmanship, 268–269;
water carrying, 270
Taormina, 4
Taragarh, Fort of, 67
Tea, Ceylon, colour of beverage, 305
Tea plantations of Ceylon, 302–305
Theatre, native, at Tanjore, 264–268
Theosophical Society, headquarters, 247
Threshing of grain, native methods, 252
Thull Ghat, 34
Tibetan fat-tailed sheep, 176
Tibetan masque at Darjeeling, 229–232
Tiled mosques, 178
_Tourane_, s.s., 313
Trinchinopoly—
Arrival at—general impressions, 270–272, 275;
visit to the temple of Seringham, 272–275;
the Rock of Trinchinopoly, 275
Tuticorin, 287–289
“Twelve Apostles, The,” 12
Udaipur—
Native group from, 76;
journey to, from Chitorgarh, 82–83;
hotel experiences, 83–84;
place of tombs, 85–86;
palace of the Maharajah, 87–88;
excursion to the palace of Jagmandin, 88–91;
feeding of the Maharajah’s wild pigs, 91–92;
the Maharajah’s gardens, 93;
Victoria Institute, 93;
departure from—the station, 94–95
Umballa, 161, 183
Villuparam, 254
Vishnu, 86, 272, 273
Vizianagram, 244
Voyages out and home, descriptions of, 1–20, 313–317
Wales, Prince and Princess, 167, 206, 282
Waltair, 244
Water filter and water bearers at railway stations, 75
Watts, G. F., 76
Wax, raised designs of, on textiles, 179
Webb, Sidney, 248
Wedding processions in Bombay, 27–28
Western civilisation, questionable value of, 94, 308–310
Women, native, costumes of, 105, 174–175
Zebu bulls, 256, 280
PRINTED BY
TURNBULL AND SPEARS,
EDINBURGH
Transcriber’s Notes
Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant
preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.
An attempt was made to regularize inconsistent hyphenation, but many
inconsistencies remain.
Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced
quotation marks retained.
Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.
The illustrations on the title and dedication pages are decorative.
Illustrations originally printed mid-paragraph have been moved
to nearby paragraph breaks, so the page numbers in the List of
Illustrations do not always match the positions in this eBook. However,
links, in versions of this eBook that support them, do lead to the
matching illustrations.
Index not checked for proper alphabetization or correct page references.
Page 83: “In meeting one’s compatriots aboard” probably should be
“abroad”.
Page 218: “Aurangzer Mosque” should be “Aurangzeb Mosque”.
Page 231: “in an access of ridiculous” probably should be “excess”.