Have you any sort of an idea what it is to travel in a bullock bandy?
The wagon itself I suppose to be somewhat like what the Western
emigrants used, in days gone by. It is supposed to be very comfortable,
and sometimes three or four persons occupy one; but how they do it, is
a mystery to me, for my two trips have been by myself, and I certainly
had no room to spare.
My first experience was in going to visit a sick missionary
thirty-eight miles away. It was during the rainy season. I took with me
a servant, who spoke English, and if it had not been for that, I don't
know what I should have done.
Bullocks were supposed to be posted along the road, but at the first
changing place, none could be hired. We went on, four miles, and there
succeeded in getting a pair so frisky that I seemed at times in danger
of losing my life. How they _did_ behave! One was especially unwilling
to be tied. More than once the bandy bumped down with me, and one
bullock ran away up the road, leaving the other beside himself with
fear. However, we got started at last, but I was afraid of something
happening all the time we had those animals.
The river, which in the dry season is simply a great bed of sand, in
the rainy season is sometimes so high that bandys cannot cross, except
on rafts, and sometimes not at all, because of the very swift current.
On our return trip the river was nearly its full width, and was rushing
along with a tremendous sweep. It was not very deep, however, and I
decided not to wait the river's pleasure, but to risk crossing it. It
took twenty-one men to get us across that river! Pudchi, my servant,
piled all my boxes on the board, which, in a bandy, is the bed, and
he and I perched ourselves on them, balancing as best we could. One
man went ahead to sound the river, two guided the bullocks' heads, two
drove, eight took the wheels, five pushed, and the others steadied us;
for more than once it seemed as if the current would sweep us over.
However, after the first scare, I felt safe, and rather enjoyed my
ride. Landed on the other side of the river, the water was emptied out
of the bandy, and we went on, for hours, through the palm-tree forests
and the banyan-lined avenues. The moonlight was almost dazzling, and
the banyan and palm-trees glittered like silver.
Would you like to know the cost of getting over that river? It cost
two cents a man! The roads were so muddy that we had occasionally to
get help, to push the bandy along. Once, in getting out of a hole, the
wheel was thrown over the bank of a tauk; the driver did not dare try
going on, with me inside, so I crawled out over the wheel! We were
thirteen hours in making the thirty-eight miles. Part of the time I
arranged my pillows and tried to be comfortable; but what comfort can
you take when, even by bracing yourself, you cannot keep quiet for a
moment?
After part of the thirteen hours were spent, I found I was indulging
in a headache. I did my head up in a wet towel, and tried to apply
"Mentholine" to my forehead; but the jolting of the bandy caused me,
when aiming at one temple, to thrust the instrument into the opposite
eye. After some experiments I thought it might be safer to make a dive
for an eye in the first place, and see where the cone would land, but
concluded not to try it.