_Pen and Pencil Sketches of India, being the Journal of a Tour
in India. By Captain Mundy._
These are two very amusing volumes of scenes and situations full of
stirring interest, as their criticships would say--for example the
four extracts immediately following:
Palankeen Travelling and a Sortie of Tigers.
"To those unitiated into the mysteries of Indian travelling, the
prospect of a journey of six hundred miles, night and day, in a hot
climate, inclosed in a sort of coffin-like receptacle, carried on the
shoulders of men, is somewhat alarming; but to one more accustomed to
that method of locomotion, the palankeen would, perhaps, prove
less fatiguing and harassing, for a long journey, than any other
conveyance.
"The horizontal or reclining position is naturally the most easy to
the body; and the exhaustion consequent upon a journey in the heat of
the day, generally secures to the traveller as much sleep during
the cooller hours of the night, as the frequent interruptions of the
bearers at the several stages will allow him to enjoy. I had laid in a
good store of tea, sugar, and biscuits, a novel, some powder and shot,
a gun, and a sword, and plenty of blankets, as a defence against
the coldness of the night. Our baggage consisted of a dozen boxes
(patarras) appended to bamboos, and carried by men: these, with two
torch-bearers (mussalgees) to each palankeen, completed our cavalcade.
"Nov. 24th, 7 A.M., reached Hazarebaug, a small station, about two
hundred and twenty miles from Calcutta. It is a healthy spot; the
earth sandy and rocky, presenting a strong contrast to the loomy and
alluvial soil of Southern Bengal. From Rogonnâthpore to Hazarebaug the
road runs through an almost uninterrupted jungle, swarming with wild
beasts. At this place we met with a hospitable friend, who stored our
palankeens with provisions, after giving us a capital breakfast.
"At eleven o'clock at night we entered the famous pass of Dunghye. The
road bears the appearance of a deep sandy ravine; the banks are rocky
and woody, and in many places quite overhung by the forest-trees. We
had accomplished about half the defile, when I was suddenly and rudely
awakened from a dozing sleep by the shock of my palankeen coming to
the ground, and by the most discordant shouts and screams. I jumped
out to ascertain the cause of the uproar, and found, on inquiry, that
a foraging party of tigers--probably speculating upon picking up a
straggling bearer--had sprung off the rocks, and dashed across the
road, bounding between my palankeen and that of Colonel D., who was
scarcely ten yards a-head. The bearers of both palankeens were all
huddled together, bellowing like bedlamites, and the mussalgees waving
their torches most vehemently. On mustering our forces, we discovered
that two of our patarra-bearers were missing, and fearing that the
tigers might pick them up, we dispatched four men with spare torches
to bring them on. Meanwhile my friend and myself, having brought
our palankeens together, armed ourselves with patience and a pair of
pistols to await the result. The whole incident, with the time and
scene, was highly interesting and wild, with just enough of the awful
to give an additional piquancy. The night was dark and stormy, and the
wind roared among the trees above our heads: the torches cast a red
and flickering light on the rocks in our immediate neighbourhood, and
just showed us enough of the depths of the forest to make the back
ground more gloomy and unfathomable. The distant halloos of the men
who were gone in search of their comrades, came faintly and wildly
upon the breeze; and the occasional shots that we fired rang through
the rocky jungle with an almost interminable echo. In about three
quarters of an hour our bearers joined us, together with the two
patarra-bearers. These latter, hearing the vociferations of our men,
and guessing the cause, had quietly placed their boxes on the ground,
about a mile in the rear of us, and seating themselves on their heels,
had determined not to proceed until the break of day.
"All being reported present, we resumed our journey, the men screaming
chorus to scare our unwelcome visitors, whom I several times fancied
I heard rustling among the brushwood on the road side, as though they
were moving on our flanks in order to cut off any straggler who might
drop astern. I never saw bearers go more expeditiously, or in more
compact order, every man fearing to be the last in the cavalcade.[1]
A sheet would have covered the whole party! The tigers, if they had
calculated upon one of our number for their evening meal, must have
gone supperless to their lair, for we mustered all our twenty-four men
in the morning. A dâk hurkarah (post messenger) had been carried
off in the same spot two days before, probably by the same family of
tigers, which according to the bearer's account, consisted of two old
ones, and three cubs.
[Footnote 1: It is said, that a tiger lying in wait for a string of
passengers usually selects the last of the party.]