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[Illustration: ONE OF THE "BOYS."
(Portrait. See p. 125.)
Frontispiece.]
RANCHING, SPORT AND TRAVEL
BY
THOMAS CARSON, F.R.G.S.
WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS
T. FISHER UNWIN
LONDON LEIPSIC
Adelphi Terrace Inselstrasse 20
1911
[_All Rights Reserved_]
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
This book is somewhat in the nature of an autobiography, covering as it
does almost the whole of the Author's life. The main portion of the
volume is devoted to cattle ranching in Arizona, New Mexico and Texas.
The Author has also included a record of his travels abroad, which he
hopes will prove to be not uninteresting; and a chapter devoted to a
description of tea planting in India.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. TEA PLANTING 13
In Cachar--Apprenticeship--Tea Planting described--Polo
--In Sylhet--Pilgrims at Sacred Pool--Wild
Game--Amusements--Rainfall--Return to Cachar--Scottpore
--Snakes--A Haunted Tree--Hill Tribes--Selecting
a Location--Return to England.
II. CATTLE RANCHING IN ARIZONA 42
Leave for United States of America--Iowa--New
Mexico--Real Estate Speculation--Gambling--Billy
the Kid--Start Ranching in Arizona--Description of
Country--Apache and other Indians--Fauna--Branding
Cattle--Ranch Notes--Mexicans--Politics--Summer
Camp--Winter Camp--Fishing and
Shooting--Indian Troubles.
III. CATTLE RANCHING IN ARIZONA (_continued_) 81
The Cowboy--Accoutrements and Weapons--Desert
Plants--Politics and Perjury--Mavericks--Mormons--Bog
Riding.
IV. ODDS AND ENDS 103
Scent and Instinct--Mules--Roping Contests--Antelopes
--The Skunk--Garnets--Leave Arizona.
V. RANCHING IN NEW MEXICO 117
The Scottish Company--My Difficulties and Dangers--Mustang
Hunting--Round-up described--Shipping
Cattle--Railroad Accidents--Close out Scotch Company's
Interests.
VI. ODDS AND ENDS 152
Summer Round-up Notes--Night Guarding--Stampedes--Bronco
Busting--Cattle Branding, etc.
VII. ON MY OWN RANCH 170
Locating--Plans--Prairie Fires and Guards--Bulls--Trading
--Successful Methods--Loco-weed--Sale of Ranch.
VIII. ODDS AND ENDS 198
The "Staked Plains"--High Winds--Lobo Wolves--Branding
--Cows--Black Jack--Lightning and Hail--Classing
Cattle--Conventions--"Cutting" versus
Polo--Bull-Fight--Prize-Fights--River and Sea
Fishing--Sharks.
IX. IN AMARILLO 226
Purchase of Lots--Building--Boosting a Town.
X. FIRST TOUR ABROAD 234
Mexico--Guatemala--Salvador--Panama--Colombia--Venezuela
--Jamaica--Cuba--Fire in Amarillo--Rebuilding.
XI. SECOND TOUR ABROAD 250
Bermudas--Switzerland--Italy--Monte Carlo--Algiers
--Morocco--Spain--Biarritz and Pau.
XII. THIRD TOUR ABROAD 256
Salt Lake City--Canada--Vancouver--Hawaii--Fiji
--Australia--New Zealand--Tasmania--Summer at Home.
XIII. FOURTH TOUR ABROAD 270
Yucatan--Honduras--Costa Rica--Panama--Equador--Peru
--Chile--Argentina--Brazil--Teneriffe.
XIV. FIFTH TOUR ABROAD 287
California--Honolulu--Japan--China--Singapore--Burmah
--India--Ceylon--The End.
APPENDIX 317
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
ONE OF THE "BOYS" (_see_ page 125) _Frontispiece_
PLUCKING TEA LEAF 20
NAGAS 37
ROPING A GRIZZLY 70
A SHOOTING SCRAPE 76
ONE OF OUR MEN, TO SHOW HANG OF SIX-SHOOTER 78
1883 IN ARIZONA, AUTHOR AND PARTY 80
WOUND UP, HORSE TANGLED IN ROPE 106
WATERING A HERD 116
HERD ON TRAIL, SHOWING LEAD STEER 137
CHANGING HORSES 153
A REAL BAD ONE 164
BREAKING THE PRAIRIE 230
FIRST CROP--MILO MAIZE 230
LLAMAS AS PACK ANIMALS 279
DRIFTING SAND DUNE, ONE OF THOUSANDS 279
PERUVIAN RUINS. NOTE DIMENSIONS OF STONES AND LOCKING SYSTEM 281
PALACE OF MAHARANA OF UDAIPUR 310
RANCHING, SPORT AND TRAVEL
CHAPTER I
TEA PLANTING
In Cachar--Apprenticeship--Tea Planting described--Polo--In
Sylhet--Pilgrims at Sacred Pool--Wild
Game--Amusements--Rainfall--Return to Cachar--Scottpore--Snakes--A
Haunted Tree--Hill Tribes--Selecting a Location--Return to England.
Having no inclination for the seclusion and drudgery of office work,
determined to lead a country life of some kind or other, and even then
having a longing desire to roam the world and see foreign countries, I
had arranged to accompany a friend to the Comoro Islands, north of
Madagascar; but changing my mind and accepting the better advice of
friends, my start was made, not to the Comoro Islands, but to India and
the tea district of Cachar. Accordingly the age of twenty-two and the
year 1876 saw me on board a steamer bound for Calcutta.
Steamers were slow sailers in those days, and it was a long trip via
Gibraltar, Suez, Malta, the Canal and Point de Galle; but it was all
very interesting to me.
Near Point de Galle we witnessed from the steamer a remarkable sight, a
desperate fight, it seemed to be a fight and not play, between a
sea-serpent, which seemed to be about fifteen feet long, and a huge ray.
The battle was fought on the surface of the water and even out of it, as
the ray several times threw himself into the air. How it ended we could
not see. Anyway we had seen the sea-serpent, though not the fabulous
monster so often written about, and yet whose existence cannot be
disproved. The sea-serpent's tail is flattened.
At Calcutta I visited a tea firm, who sent me up to Cachar to help at
one of the gardens till a vacancy should occur. Calcutta, by the way, is
or was overrun by jackals at night. They are the scavengers of the town
and hunt in packs through the streets, their wolfish yelling being a
little disconcerting to a stranger.
It was a long twelve days, but again a very interesting journey, in a
native river boat, four rowers (or towers), to my destination. I had a
servant with me, who proved a good, efficient cook and attendant. It was
rather trying to the "griffin" to notice, floating in the river, corpses
of natives, frequently perched upon by hungry vultures.
The tea-garden selected for me was Narainpore, successfully managed by a
fellow-countryman, who proved to be a capital chap and who made my stay
with him very pleasant. Narainpore was one of the oldest gardens, on
teelah (hilly) land and quite healthy. There I gave what little help I
could, picked up some of the lingo, and learned a good deal about the
planting, growth and manufacture of tea. Neighbours were plentiful and
life quite sociable. Twice a week in the cold weather we played polo,
sometimes with Munipoories, a hill tribe whose national game it is, and
who were then the undoubted champions. The Regent Senaputti was a keen
player, and very picturesque in his costume of green velvet zouave
jacket, salmon-pink silk dhotee and pink silk turban. In Munipoor even
the children have their weekly polo matches. They breed ponies specially
for the game, and use them for nothing else, nor would they sell their
best. Still, we rode Munipoor "tats" costing us from 50 rupees to 100.
They were exceedingly small, averaging not eleven hands high, but wiry,
active, speedy, full of grit, and seemed to love the game. As the game
was there played, seven formed a side, the field was twice as large as
now and there were no goals. The ball had to be simply driven over the
end line to count a score.
It may be remarked here that the great Akbar was so fond of polo, but
otherwise so busy, that he played the game at night with luminous balls.
These Munipoories were a very fine race of people, much lighter of
colour than their neighbouring tribes, very stately and dignified in
their bearing, and thorough sportsmen. Many of their women were really
handsome, and the girls, with red hibiscus blossoms stuck in their
jet-black hair, and their merry, laughing faces and graceful figures,
were altogether quite attractive to the Sahib Log.
But to return to tea. Our bungalow was of the usual type, consisting of
cement floor, roof of crossed bamboos and two feet of sun-grass thatch,
supported by immense teak posts, hard as iron and bidding defiance to
the white ants. The walls were of mats. Tea-gardens usually had a
surface of 300 to 1000 acres; some were on comparatively level ground,
some on hilly (teelah) land. These teelahs were always carefully
terraced to prevent the wash of soil and permit cultivation. The plants
were spaced about three to six feet apart, according to whether they
were of the Chinese, the hybrid, or the pure indigenous breed, the last
being the largest, in its native state developing to the dimensions of a
small tree.
I may as well here at once give a short sketch of the principal features
of tea planting and manufacture, which will show what the duties of a
planter are, and how various are the occupations and operations
embraced. One must necessarily first have labour (coolies). These are
recruited in certain districts of India, usually by sending good
reliable men, already in your employ, to their home country, under a
contract to pay them so much a head for every coolie they can persuade
(by lies or otherwise) to come to your garden. The coolies must then
bind themselves to work for you for, say, three to four years. They are
paid for their work, not much it is true, but enough to support them
with comfort; the men about three annas (or fourpence) a day, the women
two annas (or threepence). As they get to know their work and become
expert, the good men will earn as much as six annas a day, and some of
the women, when plucking leaf, about the same. This is more than
abundant for these people. They not only have every comfort, but they
become rich, so that in a few years they are able to rest on their
earnings, and work only at their convenience and when they feel like it.
They are supplied with nothing, neither food nor clothing; medicine
alone is free to them. The native staff of a garden consists of, say,
two baboos, or book-keepers and clerks, a doctor baboo, sirdars or
overseers, and chowkidars or line watchmen. A sirdar accompanies and has
charge of each gang of coolies on whatever branch of work. One is also
in charge of the factory or tea-house.
Plant growth ceases about the end of October. Then cold-weather work
begins, including the great and important operation of pruning, which
requires a large force and will occupy most of the winter. Also
charcoal-burning for next season's supply; road-making, building and
repairing, jungle-cutting, bridge-building, and nursery-making: that is,
preparing with great care beds in which the seed will be planted early
in spring. Cultivation is also, of course, carried on; it can never be
overdone. In the factory, some men are busy putting together or
manufacturing new tea-boxes, lining them carefully with lead, which
needs close attention, as the smallest hole in the lining of a tea-chest
will cause serious injury to the contents.
When spring opens and the first glorious "flush" is on the bushes, there
is a readjustment of labour. Pluckers begin to gather the leaf, and as
the season advances more pluckers are needed, till possibly every man,
woman and child may be called on for this operation alone, it being so
important that the leaf flush does not get ahead and out of control, so
that the leaf would get tough and hard and less fit for manufacture;
but cultivation is almost equally important, and every available
labourer is kept hard at it.
What a pleasure it is to watch a good expert workman, be he carpenter,
bricklayer, ploughman, blacksmith, or only an Irish navvy. In even the
humblest of these callings the evidence of much training, practice or
long apprenticeship is noticeable. To an amateur who has tried such work
himself it will soon be apparent how crude his efforts are, how little
he knows of the apparently simple operation. The navvy seems to work
slowly; but he knows well, because his task is a day-long one, that his
forces must be economised, that over-exertion must be avoided. This
lesson was brought home to me when exasperated by the seeming laziness
of the coolie cultivators, I would seize a man's hoe and fly at the
work, hoe vigorously for perhaps five minutes, swear at the man for his
lack of strenuousness, then retire and find myself puffing and blowing
and almost in a state of collapse.
If an addition or extension is being made to the garden, the already cut
jungle has to be burnt and the ground cleared in early spring, the soil
broken up and staked: that is, small sticks put in regular rows and
intervals to show where the young plants are to be put. Then when the
rains have properly set in the actual planting begins. This is a work
that requires a lot of labour and close and careful superintendence.
Imagine what it means to plant out 100 acres of ground, the plants set
only three or four feet apart! The right plucking of the leaf calls for
equally careful looking after. The women are paid by the amount or
weight they pluck, so they are very liable to pluck carelessly and so
damage the succeeding flush, or they may gather a lot of old leaf
unsuited for manufacturing purposes. In short, every detail of work,
even cultivation, demands close supervision and the whole attention of
the planter.
When the new-plucked leaf is brought home it is spread out to wither in
suitably-built sheds. (Here begins the tea-maker's responsibility.) Then
it must be rolled, by hand or by machinery; fermented, and fired or
dried over charcoal ovens; separated in its different classes, the
younger the leaf bud the more valuable the tea. It is then packed in
boxes for market, and sampled by the planter. He does this by weighing a
tiny quantity of each class or grade of tea into separate cups, pouring
boiling water on them, and then tasting the liquor by sipping a little
into the mouth, not to be swallowed, but ejected again.
[Illustration: PLUCKING TEA LEAF.]
All this will give an idea of the variety of duties of a tea-planter. He
has no time for shooting, polo, or visiting during the busy season. But
at mid-winter the great annual Mela takes place at the station, the
local seat of Government. The Mela lasts a couple of weeks, and it is a
season of fun and jollity with both planters and natives. There were two
or three social clubs in Silchar; horse and pony racing, polo, cricket
and football filled the day, dinner and sociability the night; and what
nights! The amount of liquor consumed at these meetings was almost
incredible.
Nothing can look more beautiful or more gratifying to the eye of the
owner than a tract of tea, pruned level as a table and topped with new
fresh young leaf-shoots, four to eight inches high, in full flush, ready
for the pluckers' nimble fingers.
At the end of one year I was offered and accepted the position of
assistant at a Sylhet garden, called Kessoregool, the property
consisting of three distinct gardens, the principal one being directly
overseered by the manager, an American. He, of course, was my superior.
My charge was the Lucky Cherra Gardens, some few miles away. There I
spent two years, learning what I could of the business, but without the
advantage of European society; in fact, the Burra Sahib and myself were
almost the only whites in the district, and as he was drunk quite half
the time, and we did not pull very well together, I was left to my own
resources. I found amusement in various ways. There was no polo, but
some of the native zemindars (landed proprietors) were always ready to
get up a beat for leopards, tigers, deer and pig. Their method was
simply to drive the game into a net corral and spear them to death. The
Government Keddas, under Colonel Nuttal, were also not far away in hill
Tipperah, and it was intensely interesting to watch operations. Close to
my garden also was a sacred pool and a very beautiful waterfall. This
was visited twice a year by immense numbers of natives, some from great
distances, for it was a famous and renowned place of pilgrimage. It
could only be approached through my garden; and as there was no wagon
road, the pilgrims were always open to inspection, so to speak; and they
were well worth inspection, as among them were many races, all ages,
both sexes, every caste or jat; robes, turbans and cupras of every shape
and colour; fakirs and wonder-workers, and beggars galore. Here, and on
such an occasion only, could the sahib see face to face the harems of
the wealthy natives, consisting of women who at no other time showed
themselves out of doors. Being the only sahib present I had all the "fun
of the fair" to myself, but always regretted the want of a companion to
share it with me.
As to wild game, there were lots of jungle fowl (original stock of our
familiar barn-door cocks and hens), a few pigeons, Argus pheasants,
small barking deer, pigs, sambur, barrasingha, metnas, crocodiles,
leopards, tigers, bears and elephants; but I had little time for
shooting and it was expensive work, the jungle being so thick that
riding elephants were quite necessary. If keen enough, one could sit all
night on a machan in a tree near a recent "kill," on the chance of
Stripes showing himself; but it never appealed to me much, that kind of
sport. If a tiger was raiding the cattle I would poison the "kill" with
strychnine. In this way I secured several very fine animals, getting two
at one time, so successfully poisoned that their bodies actually lay on
the dead bullock. One time I shot an enormous python, some eighteen feet
in length, which took several men to carry home. Monkeys were plentiful
and of several kinds. I was very fond of wandering amongst the high-tree
jungle and quietly watching their antics. In the dense forest there is
little undergrowth, so that one can move about freely and study the
extraordinary forms of vegetation displayed. Ticks and leeches are to
be dreaded--a perfect nuisance. If you sit down or pause for a few
moments where no leeches are in sight, suddenly and quickly they will
appear marching on you, or at you, at a gallop.
The popular idea of a wealth of flowers in tropical jungles is a
misconception. In tree jungle no flowers are to be found, or at any rate
they are not visible. But if one can by some means attain an elevation
and so be able to overlook the tree-tops, he will probably be rewarded
with a wonderful display, as many jungle trees are glorified with crowns
of gorgeous colours. There will he also discover the honey-suckers,
moths, butterflies, the beetles, and all the other insect brood which he
had also vainly looked for before. The fruits are likewise borne aloft,
and therefore at the proper time these tree-tops will be the haunt of
the monkeys, the parrots, the bats, the toucans, and all frugivorous
creation.
Of all fruits the durian is the most delicious. Such is the universal
opinion of men, including A. R. Wallace, who have had the opportunity of
becoming familiar with it. It is purely tropical, grows on a lofty tree,
is round and nearly as large as a cocoanut. A thick and tough rind
protects the delicacy contained within. When opened five cells are
revealed, satiny white, containing masses of cream-coloured pulp. This
pulp is the edible portion and has an indescribable flavour and
consistence. You can safely eat all you want of it, and the more you eat
the more you will want. To eat durian, as Mr Wallace says, is alone
worth a voyage to the East. But it has one strange quality--it smells so
badly as to be at first almost nauseating; some people even can never
bring themselves to touch it. Once this repulsion is mastered the fruit
will probably be preferred to all other foods. The natives give it
honourable titles, exalt it, and even wax poetical over it.
Of course we all know the multitudinous uses of the bamboo. This grass
is one of the most wonderful, beautiful and useful of Nature's gifts to
uncivilized man. And yet one more use has been found for it. In the East
a new industry has sprung up, viz., the making of "Panama" hats of
bamboo strips or threads. In texture and pliability these hats are said
to even surpass the genuine "Panamas," are absolutely impervious to
rain, and can be produced at a much lower cost.
The Looshais killed pigs, and even tigers, by ingeniously setting
poisoned arrows in the woods, which were released by the animals
pressing on a string. One of my coolies was unfortunate enough to be
shot and killed in this way.
Growing on decayed tree stumps I frequently found a saprophyte
(_hymenophallus_), much larger than its English representative, indeed a
monster in comparison, and possessing a vile and most odious smell, yet
attractive to certain depraved insects.
I made a very fine collection of butterflies, moths and beetles, which,
however, was entirely destroyed by worms or ants during its passage to
England. The magnificent Atlas moth was common in Sylhet and Cachar.
What an extraordinarily beautiful creature it is, sometimes so large as
to cover a dinner-plate. I never was privileged to see it fly. It seemed
to be always in a languid or torpid condition.
Thunderstorms occur almost daily during the wet season. By lightning I
lost several people. In one case, whilst standing watching a man remove
seedlings from a nursery bed, standing indeed immediately behind and
close to him, there came a thrilling flash of lightning. It shook myself
as well as several women who stood by. The man in front of me, who had
been sitting on his haunches with a steel-ribbed umbrella over him,
remained silent and still. At last I called on him to continue his work
and pulled back the umbrella to see his face. He was stone dead.
Examination showed a small blackish spot where the steel rib had rested
and conveyed the fatal shock.
The approach of the daily rainstorm, usually about noon, was a
remarkable sight. Immense fan-shaped, thunderous-looking clouds would
come rolling up, billow upon billow, travelling at great speed and
accompanied by terrific wind. A flash of lightning and a crashing peal
of thunder and the deluge began, literally a deluge. The rainfall
averaged about 180 inches in seven months. At Cherrapunji, in the Kassia
Hills, within sight of my place and only about twenty miles distant, the
rainfall was and is the greatest in the world, no other district
approaching it in this respect, viz., averaging per annum 450 inches;
greatest recorded over 900 inches; and there is a record of _one_ month,
July, of a fall of nearly 400 inches; yet all this precipitation takes
place during the six or seven wet months, the rest of the year being
absolutely dry and rainless. These measurements are recorded at the
Government Observatory Station and need not be disputed. It may readily
be supposed that the wet season, summer, with its high temperature and
damp atmosphere, was very trying to the European, and even to the
imported coolies. Imagine living for six continuous months in the
hottest palm-house in Kew Gardens; yet the planter is out and about all
day long; nearly always on pony back, however, an enormously thick solah
toppee hat or a heavy white umbrella protecting his head. The dry, or
cold season, however, was delightful.
Close to Lucky Cherra Garden was a tract of bustee land on which some
Bengali cultivators grew rice and other crops. Our Company's boundary
line in some way conflicted with theirs, and a dispute arose which soon
developed into a series of, first, most comical mix-ups, and afterwards
into desperate "lathi" fights. The land in dispute was being hurriedly
ploughed by buffalo teams belonging to the Bengalis; to uphold our claim
I also secured teams and put them to ploughing on the same piece of
ground. This could only lead to one thing--as said before, terrific
lathi fights between the teamsters. For several days I went down to see
the fun, taking with me a number of the stoutest coolies on the garden.
The men seemed to rather enjoy the sport, though a lick from a lathi (a
formidable tough, hard and heavy cane) was far from a joke. Finally the
bustee-wallahs agreed to stop operations and await legal judgment.
After eighteen months I was suddenly left in sole charge of all the
Company's gardens, the Burra Sahib having finally succumbed to drink;
but I was not long left in charge, being soon relieved by a more
experienced man. Shortly after I was ordered to Scottpore Garden in
Cachar, the manager of which, a particularly fine man and a great
friend of mine, had suffered the awful death of being pierced by the
very sharp end of a heavy, newly-cut bamboo, which he seems to have
ridden against in the dark. He always rode at great speed, and he too,
in this way, was a victim of drink. The tremendously high death-rate
amongst planters was directly due to this fatal habit.
Scottpore was a new (young) garden, not teelah, but level land, having
extremely rich soil. The bushes showed strong growth and there were no
"vacancies"; indeed it was a model plantation. Unfortunately, it had the
character of extreme unhealthiness. Of my three predecessors two had
died of fever and one as before mentioned. The coolie death-rate was
shocking; so bad that, during my management, a Government Commission was
sent to look into the situation, and the absolute closing of the garden
was anticipated. The result was that I was debarred from recruiting and
importing certain coolies from certain districts in India, they being
peculiarly susceptible to fever and dysentery. Almost every day at
morning muster the doctor reported so and so, or so many, dead, wiped
off the roll. Naturally the place suffered from lack of labour, a
further draining of the force being the absconding of coolies, running
off, poor devils, to healthier places, and the stealing of my people by
unscrupulous planters.
On several occasions, when riding home on dark nights, have I detected
white objects on the side of the road. Not a movement would be seen, not
a sound or a breath heard, only an ominous, suspicious silence reigned;
it meant that these were some of my people absconding, being perhaps led
off by a pimp from another garden--and woe betide the pimp if caught. I
would call out to them, and if they did not respond would go after them;
but generally they were too scared to resist or to attempt further to
escape; so I would drive them in front of me back to the garden, inspect
them and take their names, try to find out who had put them up to it,
etc., and dismiss them to the lines in charge of the night-watchman. You
could not well punish them, though a good caning was administered
sometimes to the men. Thus the plantation, instead of presenting a
clean, well-cultivated appearance, had often that of an enormous
hayfield; nevertheless the output and manufacture of tea was large and
the quality good. All that I myself could and did take credit for was
this "quality," as the prices obtained in Calcutta were the best of all
the Company's gardens.
At Scottpore there was no lack of neighbours. My bungalow was on two
cross-roads, a half-way house so to speak; consequently someone was
continually dropping in. Frequently three or four visitors would arrive
unannounced for dinner; the house was always "wide open." Whisky, brandy
and beer were always on the sideboard, and in my absence the bearer or
khansamah was expected, as a matter of course, to offer refreshments to
all comers. The planter's code of hospitality demanded this, but it was
the financial ruin of the Chota Sahib, depending solely on his modest
salary.
At Scottpore I went in strong for vegetable, fruit and flower gardening,
and not without success. Visitors came from a distance to view the
flower-beds and eat my green peas, and I really think that I grew as
fine pineapples and bananas as were produced anywhere. The pineapple of
good stock and ripened on the plant is, I think, the most exquisite of
all fruits. A really ripe pine contains no fibre. You cut the top off
and sup the delicious mushy contents with a spoon.
In such a hot, steamy climate as we had in these tea districts, the
rapidity of growth of vegetation is, of course, remarkable. Bamboos
illustrate this better than other plants, their growth being so much
more noticeable, that of a young shoot amounting to as much as four
inches in one night. It sometimes appeared to my imagination that the
weeds and grass grew one foot in a like period, especially when short of
labour. The planter usually takes a pride in the well-cultivated
appearance of the garden in his charge; but how can one be proud if the
weeds overtop the bushes? It may be appropriate here to note that
eighty-five per cent. of the twenty-four hours' growth of plants occurs
between 12 p.m. and 6 a.m.; during the noon hours the apparent growth
almost entirely ceases.
Garden coolies are generally Hindoos and are imported from far-off
districts. The local peasantry of Bengal are mostly Mohammedans and do
not work on tea-gardens, except on such jobs as cutting jungle,
building, etc. They speak a somewhat different tongue, so that we had to
understand Bengali as well as Hindustani. I may mention here that as
Hindoos regard an egg as defiling, and Mohammedans despise an eater of
pork, our love for ham and eggs alienates us from both these classes;
what beasts we must be! The Hindoos and the Bengal Mussulmans are
characterized by cringing servility, open insolence, or rude
indifference. Contrast with this the Burmese agreeableness and
affability, or the bearing of the Rajput and the Sikh. In those days the
natives cringed before the Sahib Log much more than they do now. Then
all had to put their umbrellas down on passing a sahib, and all had to
leave the side-walk on the white man's approach; not that the law
compelled them to do so, it was simply a custom enforced by their
masters, in the large cities as well as in the mofussil.
We thought it advisable at all costs to keep the coolies in a proper
state of subjection. Thus, when on a certain occasion a coolie of mine
raised his kodalie (hoe) to strike me I had to give him a very severe
thrashing. Another time a man appeared somewhat insolent in his talk to
me and I unfortunately hit him a blow on the body, from the effects of
which he died next day. Some of these people suffer from enlarged
spleens and even a slight jar on that part of their anatomy may prove
fatal.
A few more notes. Among the Sontals in Bengal the snake stone, found
within the head of the Adjutant-bird, is applied to a snake bite exactly
in the same way and with the same supposed results as the Texas
madstone, an accretion found, it is said, in the system of a white stag.
Many natives of India die from purely imaginary snake bites.
In Oude there have been many instances verified, or at least impossible
of contradiction, of so-called wolf-children, infants stolen by wolves
and suckled by them, that go on all fours, eat only raw meat, and, of
course, speak no language.
The Nagas, a hill tribe and not very desirable neighbours, practise the
refined custom of starving a dog, then supplying it with an enormous
feed of rice; and when the stomach is properly distended, killing it,
the half-digested mess forming the _bonne-bouche_ of the tribal feast.
Snake stories are always effective. I have none to tell. My bungalow
roof, the thatch, was at all times infested by snakes, some quite large.
At night one frequently heard them gliding between the bamboos and
grass, chasing mice, beetles, or perhaps lizards, and sometimes falling
on the top of the mosquito bar, or even on the dinner-table; but these
were probably harmless creatures, as most snakes are. The cobra was not
common in Cachar. It may be said here that a snake's mouth opens
crossways as well as vertically, and each side has the power of working
independently, the teeth being re-curved backwards. Prey once in the
jaws cannot escape, and the snake itself can only dispose of it in one
way--downwards.
At Scottpore I employed an elephant for certain work, such as hauling
heavy posts out of the jungle. Sometimes his "little Mary" would trouble
him, when a dose of castor oil would be effectively administered.
Unfortunately, he misbehaved, ran amok, and tried to kill his mahout,
and so that hatthi (elephant) had to be disposed of.
When clearing jungle for a tea-garden the workmen sometimes come on a
certain species of tree, of which they are in great dread. They cannot
be induced to cut it down and so the tree remains. Such a one stood
opposite my bungalow, a stately, handsome monarch of the forest. It was
a sacred, or rather a haunted tree, but as its shade was injurious to
tea-plant growth I was determined to have it destroyed. None of my
people would touch it; so I sent over to a neighbour and explained the
facts to him, requesting him to send over a gang of his men to do the
deed. I was to see that they had no communication with my own people.
Well, his men came and were put to work with axes. The result? Two of
them died that day and the rest bolted. Yet this is not more
extraordinary than people dying of imaginary snake bites.
Shortly afterwards an incident occurred to still further strengthen the
native belief that the tree was haunted. I had a very fine bull terrier
which slept in the porch at night, the night-watchman also sleeping
there. One time I was aroused by terrific yells from the dog, and called
to the watchman to know the trouble. After apparently recovering from
his fright he told me the devil had come from the tree and carried off
the dog. The morning showed traces of a tiger's or leopard's pugs, and
my poor terrier was of course never seen again.
The hill tribes surrounding the valley of Cachar were the Kassias,
Nagas, Kookies, Munipoories and Looshais, all of very similar type,
except that the Munipoories were of somewhat lighter skin, were more
civilized and handsomer. The Kassias were noted for their wonderful
muscular development, no doubt accounted for by their being
mountaineers, their poonjes (villages) being situated on the sides of
high and steep mountains. All their market products, supplies, etc.,
were packed up and down these hills in thoppas, a sort of baskets or
chairs slung on the back by a band over the forehead. In this way even a
heavy man would be carried up the steep mountain-side, and generally by
a woman.
Once, in later years, whilst in Mexico, near Crizaba, I was intensely
surprised to meet in the forest a string of Indios going to market and
using this identical thoppa; the similar cut of the hair across the
forehead, the blanket and dress, the physical features, even the
peculiar grunt emitted when carrying a weight, settled for me the
long-disputed question of the origin of the Aztecs. In Venezuela I saw
exactly the same type in Castro's Indian troops, as also in the Indian
natives of Peru.
[Illustration: NAGAS]
The Kassias were fond of games, such as tossing the caber, putting the
weight and throwing the hammer, apparently a tribal institution. The
Kookies and Nagas were restless, warlike and troublesome, and addicted
to head hunting. They periodically raided some tea-gardens to secure
lead for bullets, and incidentally heads as trophies. Several planters
had been thus massacred, and at outlying gardens there was always this
dread and danger. On one occasion an urgent message was brought to me
from such a garden, whose manager happened to be in Calcutta. His head
baboo begged me to come over and take charge, if only to reassure the
coolies, who had been running off into the jungle on the report of a
threatened Naga raid. On going over I found the people tremendously
excited, and most of them scared nearly to death. My presence seemed to
allay their fright, though if the savages had come we could have done
nothing, having only a few rifles in the place and the coolies totally
demoralized. Luckily Mr Naga did not appear.
The Looshais were a particularly warlike race, and gardens situated near
their territory were supplied by Government with stands of arms and had
stockades for defence in case of attack.
The tea-planter's life was to me a very enjoyable one. There was lots of
interesting work to be done, lots of sport and amusement, and lots of
good fellows. The life promised to be an ideal one. For its enjoyment,
however, indeed for its possibility, there is one essential--good
health. Unfortunately that, during the whole period at Scottpore, was
not mine; for the whole eighteen months fever had its grip on me;
appetite was quite gone, and I subsisted on nothing but eggs, milk and
whisky. Six months more would have done me up; but just at this time
came the announcement of my father's death. For this reason and on
account of my health I resigned the position and prepared to visit home,
meaning to return, however, to India.
I determined before going to look out a piece of land suitable for a
small plantation; and, after much consideration, decided to hunt for it
in Eastern Sylhet. So bidding adieu to friends I hied me down to the
selected district, secured a good man as guide (a man of intelligence
and intimate knowledge of the country was essential), and hired an
elephant to carry us and break a way through the jungle. In the course
of our search we came to a piece of seemingly swampy ground; the high
reeds which had once covered it had been eaten down and the surface of
the bog trodden on till it became caked, firm and almost solid. Our
path was across it, but on coming to the edge the elephant refused to
proceed. On the mahout urging him he roared and protested in every way,
so much so that I was somewhat alarmed and suggested to the mahout that
the elephant knew better than he the danger of proceeding. Finally,
however, the elephant decided to try the ground, and carefully and
slowly he made his way across, his great feet at every step depressing
the surface, which perceptibly waved like thin ice all around him. I was
prepared and ready to jump clear at the first sign of danger, for had we
broken through we should have probably all disappeared in the bog.
Hatthi was as much relieved as myself on reaching terra firma. My guide
told me that this land had no bottom, that under the packed surface
there was twenty feet of soft, black, loamy mud. This set me thinking. I
was after something of this nature. In the course of the next day we
came upon a somewhat similar piece of ground, some 300 acres in extent,
still covered with the original reeds and other vegetation. The soil was
in places exposed and was of a rich, dark brown loamy character. Taking
a long ten-foot bamboo and pressing it firmly on the ground it could be
forced nearly out of sight. That was enough for me. The object sought
for was found. Further tests with a spade and bamboo were made at
different points; deep drainage seemed practicable, and, what was quite
important, a small navigable river bounded the property. Then I hunted
up a native surveyor, traced the proposed boundaries, got numbers and
data, etc., to enable me to send my application to the proper quarter,
which I soon afterwards did, making a money deposit in part payment to
the Government. My task was completed, and I at once started for
Calcutta and home.
As things turned out I never returned to the country and so had to
abandon my rights, etc.; but in support of my judgment I was very much
gratified to learn years afterwards that someone else had secured and
developed this particular piece of land as a tea-garden, and that it had
turned out to be the most valuable, much the most valuable, piece of tea
land, acre for acre, in the whole country. Often and bitterly since then
have I regretted not being able to return and develop and operate this
ideal location. More than that, I had learned the tea-growing business,
had devoted over three years to its careful study, felt myself in every
way competent, and had found a life in many ways suited to my tastes.
All this had to be abandoned. In India the white man lives in great
luxury. He has a great staff of servants, his every whim and wish is
anticipated and satisfied, his comfort watched over. To leave _this_,
to go straight out to the West, the wild and woolly West, where servants
were not! The very suggestion of such a thing to me on leaving India
would have received no consideration whatever. It would have seemed
utterly impossible, but "El Hombre propone y el Deos depone" as the
Mexicans say.
During the whole four years' stay in India I was practically barred from
ladies' society, nearly all the planters being unmarried men. Alas! for
twenty years longer of my life this very unfortunate and demoralizing
condition was to continue.
There were no railroads then to Cachar and no steamers, so I again
performed the journey to Calcutta in a native boat, and there,
by-the-bye, I witnessed the sight for the first time of an apparent
lunatic playing a game called Golf; a game which later was to be more
familiar to me, and myself to become one of the greatest lunatics of
all. The run home was in no way remarkable, except for the intense
anticipated pleasure of again seeing the old country.