Twelve years is the legal marriage of girls in India. Girls, however,

have a partner selected for them as early as two years of age, and, if

they do not wish to live with their husbands at the legal age, they

are taken from their father's home by force. No matter how young she

may have been when the parents married her, she is the man's wife from

that time. Should the husband die after marriage, the girl, according

to Indian custom, cannot marry again. She may be a widow when she is

8 or 10 years of age. She is looked down upon, her hair sometimes cut

off--in short, she becomes the drudge of the family. She is charged

with having done some very bad thing which caused her husband's death.

Nothing is worse treated than a Hindu widow. Fathers receive from $25

to $200 for their daughter from the husband. Mothers 20 years of age

will have "married" daughters seven and eight years old.

If a poor Hindu were eating his portion of rice, or other food, and a

European happened to pass between him and the sun, causing his shadow

to flit over the native's food, the hungry creature would not eat it,

firmly believing it had been polluted by the white man's shadow.

Natives eat with their fingers.

Were a man or woman to drop in a faint, or from any cause, they would

prefer to die before accepting nourishment from one of lower caste,

and certainly no one of higher caste would lend aid. Only one of

similar caste could relieve their condition.

Indians consider Europeans filthy who use a tooth-brush more than

once. They use a twig or sliver of wood that has been chewed to a

bushy end; it is thrown away after using. People who eat pork are

considered worse than dogs.

Men who wear trousers and shirt place the shirt outside the trousers.

Those who wear shoes have no socks.

Long, canoe-like boxes on cart wheels were in evidence in Cawnpore.

The oxen were hitched to a crosspiece at the end of the shafts, while

Indians, behind the oxen, were between the shafts and pushing with

their breasts against the crosspiece.

A European carpenter shoves a plane from him, but an Indian carpenter

pulls the plane toward him. Mechanics do most of their work sitting,

and use their toes as a vise between which to hold a board while

planing it. Before shoeing an ox, the beast's legs are bound with

rope, when the animal will be thrown. The blacksmith then shoes the ox

while he is sitting down. The Indian can make as convenient use of his

toes as he does of his fingers.

Lucknow, next visited, is well provided with large tracts of park

space, splendid roads and good shade. The city has a population of

300,000, and among this number were more Europeans than at Cawnpore.

Several good European stores have been established, and these seemed

to compete successfully with the native merchants.

This city shared with Cawnpore in the horrors of the Mutiny, as 3,000

souls were behind the historic walls of the Residency when the siege

began, and when relief came there were less than a thousand alive.

Bedding is not generally furnished by hotels in India. Frequently, the

"bed" is only a bedstead and springs, or, as will be found in smaller

centers, strips of cowhide, lashed at sides, top and bottom, answer

for springs; again, there is a mattress on the springs, but no

bedclothing or pillows. At other times, only one sheet over the

mattress, and nothing else. Owing to this unusual custom, a bag for

carrying bedding is generally included in travelers' luggage. The

contrast between India and Germany in this respect is very marked, as

at a small hotel in Berlin at which I stopped the bed had a sheet and

a feather tick for a covering. It was summer-time, but the covering

would answer for Arctic weather. In one case the sheet was not

sufficient covering; in the other the tick was too much.

One is more successful in beating down hotel rates in this country

than anywhere else. It is a place of haggle and barter, and the

business system aims to make a customer feel he has got the better of

the bargain, while the seller is satisfied with his profit, although

having come down from the original price one-half. There is always

doubt whether the customer really has got the better of the

transaction; but there is no question, however, about getting a

concession, when, after a hotelkeeper has asked six or seven rupees a

day, the traveler pays only five rupees ($1.60) a day. It seems to

break an Indian boniface's heart to see a prospective guest go to

another hotel.

"Babus" are men engaged at clerical work, and one has to scan his

hotel bill closely before settling, as a babu may add an item to the

laundry list or for ice, or even charge for other things that go with

hotel accommodation. Many persons will overlook a small charge, and

well the babu knows it. Extras belong to him.

The hotels are generally of one story, and all doors open on to a

covered veranda. Almost every one has a servant--a "boy"--with him.

Early in the evening and during the night, in front of room doors, may

be seen one, two and sometimes three "boys" sleeping. If their master

or any European should pass where they are lying they hurriedly arise

in their blankets, salaam and bow, then immediately lie down again,

remaining thus until another European footstep is heard, when up they

jump, offer another salaam, and quickly settle down again to sleep. As

few Indians wear shoes, they know when an European is approaching.

When leaving a hotel there will be four to six servants helping the

guest and his luggage into a conveyance. As most of them look alike,

it becomes necessary to ask each one what part he played in adding to

one's comfort while making his stay. In answer to who's who, one will

say he is the table "boy," another the room "boy," another the bath

"boy," and yet another, the sweeper. Others are also present to see

one comfortably on his way, but gratuities may be limited to four.

Three rupees--a dollar--proportionately divided among the four is

generally given for a week's or ten days' stay.

On entering the native quarters--the bazaars--of the Indian cities one

is generally escorted by "runners" of silk merchants, brass

manufacturers, lacquer merchants and others. A friend and myself rode

on a two-wheeled trap, the seat facing backward; and as we entered one

of the arteries of the Chauk Bazaar the crowd of people and merchants'

runners that filled the narrow street from house wall to house wall

was so dense that the garrywaller gave up trying to proceed further.

It took us some time to reach the entrance on foot. No holiday was

being celebrated--this was an every day occurrence.

In all the cities of this section are sports grounds, a race track, a

church, and public library for Europeans. A large cantonment is

located in Lucknow.

The country over which we had traveled was so flat that it looked as

if there was no necessity for grading or cutting in the railway of

even two feet for a hundred miles. The "windmill," the stick-and-bolt

plough, the irrigation trench, and an occasional tree; the oxen, with

humps on their shoulders; the mud huts; the sparsely clad and

half-starved natives were scenes of similarity from Lucknow to

Benares, the sacred city of the Hindu. Benares is to the Hindu what

Mecca, in Arabia, is to the Mohammedan.

One beholds beggars, beggars, beggars--repulsive looking specimens of

humanity--and pariah dogs inside and outside the temples; some of the

enclosures of the temples alive with monkeys and goats; cattle

standing munching in front of golden images of Hindu gods, up to their

fetlocks in yellow flowers and tender leaves; bony and poorly dressed

women flitting in and out of narrow alleys and through doorways into

temples, carrying a brass or copper water-pot full of Ganges River

water; vagabond priests on the "ghats," resting on a platform covered

with a large sun-shade, receiving money from very poor people for

making clay marks on their forehead--caste marks--all sacred! Beastly

and idolatrous would be a better term to apply to Benares.

Two-thirds of the population of India--207,000,000--are followers of

the Brahmanic faith, and even one of the lowest caste believes he is a

unit in the great universe as compared to an Indian who has no caste

distinction.

People of the Brahmanic faith come from all parts of India to bathe in

the Ganges River at Benares, which, by the way, is nearly as muddy as

the Missouri River. Their hope of a peaceful hereafter is strengthened

by a visit to the sacred city, but the poverty and suffering entailed

through spending money for the trip by those living a great distance

away is keenly felt.

At Durga, or Monkey Temple, which is surrounded by high walls, 350

monkeys were climbing up the sides of the church, scampering about the

walls, but always keeping an eye on the visitor. Upon entering the

temple enclosure a priest insists on one buying popcorn or other food

for the monkeys; then a second priest slips a garland of flowers over

one's head, another method of getting a little money. Besides monkeys,

mangy dogs come close, expecting popcorn, and impudent goats rub their

noses against visitors' clothes. The temple is painted an ocher color,

symbolizing the character of the god Durga--blood. Many beggars were

inside the enclosure, and were very numerous outside. Everything about

the place bore an air the reverse of sacred or solemn.

The Golden Temple, hidden among many buildings, is the most important

to pilgrims. Three domes, covered with plates of gold over plates of

copper, ornament this structure; the floor is said to be inlaid with

100,000 rupee pieces ($32,000). A narrow alley runs in front of the

temple, and only two persons can pass at a time. Flower stands, and

men selling flowers, are plentiful about the entrance and along the

passageway. Inside the building are several shrines; in front of one

stood a Brahmani bull, and in front of another a Brahmani cow, both

animals having humps on their shoulders. Near the shrines peacocks and

deer were also seen. People were streaming in and out of the temple

all the time, those going in carrying a water-pot, made of brass or

earth, filled with Ganges water, and a handful of yellow flowers and

tender leaves, bought outside. The flowers and leaves were fed to the

bull and cow, and the worshiper sprinkled the water over himself while

paying homage at the shrine. All the time a din from cymbals, tom-toms

and other harsh instruments was kept up, sounding more like a boiler

factory than anything else. Every one was in bare feet. Most of the

men wore only a loin cloth, and the prominent ribs and other bones of

their bodies suggested a doubt of their ever having had a square meal.

Around the women's ankles were rings, around the wrists were cheap

glass or pewter bangles; the ears contained cheap ornaments, and a

gewgaw pendant hung from the nose over the mouth, secured to the

nostrils' partition. At every point of vantage beggars and fakirs were

as thick as flies. The constantly inpouring crowd and weird music is

kept up the whole day, year in and year out. There is nothing doubtful

about the sacred water--every drop is taken from the historical river

and carried to the temple. In some of the shrines is an image of a

monkey, a cow, a peacock, or a double-headed beast of awful

appearance; and gods in flaring red represent fire and thunder. All

the time priests are collecting money from the worshipers.

Many professional loafers, known as "jojees" or devotees, are seen in

India. They will hold up one of their arms for years until it has

become rigid and the fingernails have grown and twisted about the hand

like roots; some hang by one foot from a pole, like the flying foxes

of Tonga; or distort themselves in other unnatural positions. This is

done in accordance with their supposed religious belief as bodily

penance, and they are looked upon as martyrs. Some of them have ashes

on their bodies, which they sell, mostly to women. Rice and money are

thrown to these knotty-whiskered, filthy fakirs by poor people who

really cannot afford the gifts, but who think they are doing a

religious act.

The view of Benares from the Ganges River is an unusually fine one. On

the high banks at this point stone steps have been built leading from

the top to the water. Above the steps and banks stand attractive

temples and palaces. At certain times of year the temples are used by

pilgrims who come from every point of India to worship. Sections of

the steps have proper names, which are called "ghats"--used for the

English word place, as Dandi Ghat (place).

Over a million pilgrims journey to Benares each year, where they bathe

in the Ganges as a purifying tenet of their religion. Among others,

there is a small-pox ghat, where those suffering from small-pox may

bathe, in the hope of being healed; also bathing ghats for other

diseases, where purifying rites are carried out. On each ghat are

several raised platforms, having large sunshades, where men, their

legs half curled under them, are sitting. Every one leaving the water

stops at a platform, where caste marks are made on their foreheads,

each supplicant leaving money with the marker. Some have no money

coins and leave cowrie shells instead. These markers are priests. The

pilgrims then wend their way to a temple and worship either an idol

painted red, having three eyes, a silver scalp, or an elephant's trunk

covered with a yellow bib; the figure of a rat; a monkey of brass,

wood or iron, or some other image. At the temple the faithful make

another donation, tom-toms, cymbals and other instruments playing

meanwhile to awaken the gods of wood, brass or stone.

A few hours after death a body is brought to a burning ghat, men being

covered with a white sheet and women with a red cloth. Smoke from a

dozen to fifty pyres may be seen rising from the ghat, and the ashes

are thrown into the Ganges just below. The fuel for a pyre costs

$1.60; wealthy Indians use sandalwood for this purpose. Children of

five years of age and under are not cremated, their bodies being cast

into the Ganges, with a weight attached. "Holy men" of the church are

not cremated; they are either buried or, like the children, cast into

the Ganges River.

Every pilgrim, on leaving Benares, takes with him a quantity of Ganges

water, though he may live a thousand miles away. Were a European to

touch accidentally a pilgrim's water-pot, the Hindu would feel that

the sacred water had been defiled.

Caste customs in India forbid intermarriage of one with another; they

must not eat nor drink together; must not partake of food prepared by

a lower caste, and shun even touching the clothes of those beneath

them. Were an Indian merchant to adopt the Christian religion, his

business would probably be ruined, his home possibly be surrounded by

a mob, and he would be fortunate to escape with his life, having

degraded his caste. A man may be poor, and yet of a higher caste than

some wealthy Indians.

Women, with two blanks in their heads, may be seen begging in many

places. To raise her head when out walking as a man passed is

considered a violation of a wife's vow by her husband, for which

offense their eyes are sometimes literally gouged out. High-caste

women keep very much to their homes.

A white woman would be thought little of by her servants were she to

do domestic duties, such as dusting and putting a finishing touch to

the interior. Here are instances of how helpless some Europeans

become when in India: Were a man to brush his own clothes, or even

lace his shoes, these acts would prove sources of unfavorable comment

by the servants. A man, wanting to know the hour, sometimes calls his

"boy"; the servant takes the watch from his master's pocket, holds the

timepiece level with his employer's eyes, replaces the watch in his

master's pocket, and leaves the room. When keeping an appointment with

a servant, the master must not be punctual, but keep the servant

waiting. If the Sahib was punctual, and the servant happened to be

late, the master would be looked down upon for waiting for his minion.

The cow is revered, not only owing to its service in maintaining life

by its milk, but because some of the Hindu sects believe that, after

death, they will be borne across a river on the back of the cow to a

better country. Hindus who do not wear long hair have a tuft growing

from the crown, or a little below that point. In case the cow should

fail to be on hand to take him across, a mysterious arm is supposed to

reach down, take hold of his tuft of hair, and by that means place him

in the better land. One would be disgraced were the tuft of hair

removed.

Much of the ornamental brasswork seen in many parts of the world comes

from Benares, for which the Hindu Mecca is famed. Small idols and

images in brass or other materials are made in large quantities. The

brassworkers sit down while turning out their product.

Ruins of the temples of Benares are located at Sarnath, five miles

from the city; these evidences of the past are seen in crumbled walls

and earth depressions. Brick and stone was the material used in

building, but the brick was much thinner and longer than the

present-day block. The most striking remains standing of the ancient

city is the Dhamek Stupa, or tower, which consists of a stone

basement, 93 feet in diameter, the stones being clamped together with

iron bands to the height of 43 feet. Above that point the tower is of

brickwork, rising to a height of 128 feet. Niches built in projecting

faces of the tower contain the figure of Buddha, and encircling the

monument is a band of sculptured ornaments of much interest. There is

some doubt among authorities as to whether the stupa has stood all

these years; it is the only building of the ancient temples at present

standing. Another stupa, not as massive as the Dhamek, was passed

before reaching the ruins. At one place among the crumbled temples is

the Main Shrine, the whole standing on a concrete foundation, with a

rail on the upper part of the altar. Close by is the Asoka Pillar,

which is broken, but was at one time 50 feet high, and is believed to

mark the spot where Buddha preached his first sermon.

Excavations are under way all the time at Sarnath, and a museum

located at that place contains a large variety of interesting

fragments of the early Buddhist temples.

CHAPTER IV.

A start was next made for the Himalayas in a northeasterly direction,

seldom traversed by persons going to that section of the mountain

country. I was the only white man on the train, and in view of few

European travelers taking this route no provision had been made for

food. The third-class coaches were packed with natives. We passed

through the opium poppy growing country, the sugar-cane and indigo

fields, and, further along, reached the jute-growing country in

Bengal. The train had left Benares in the morning, but it was twelve

hours later before food was available.

At a place known as Katihar I had to remain a day in order to make

through connections. One of the sub-stations, located a short distance

from the railway track, was alive with passengers, but no one seemed

to really care when the trains came and went. Natives eating rice,

wheat cakes, bananas, sticks of sugar-cane, thick pieces of candy,

rolls like crullers, smoking the hooka (a long pipe with two bowls,

through one of which, containing water, the smoke from the tobacco or

hemp passes to the stem), gambling, begging; the big Kabuli--who looks

like a storm in silent mood--offering for sale alleged rare coins;

women with one to three very small children, all untidy and

dirty--such is life in India.

The train left Katihar in the evening for Silliguri. An Englishman got

in the same coach, and I was much pleased to have a white man with me.

This train was not lighted by electricity, and there were doubts about

the oil in the lamp being of American brand, for the light went out

before we reached the second station, and when the train stopped the

Englishman could be heard shouting from the coach for some one to

relight it. The trainman had got no further than the rear of the

train, when the lamp gave a final flicker. The Britisher again began

to shout, but the train was then moving. The three following stops

were a repetition of the first, and, the Englishman finally admitting

his defeat, we stretched out on berths for the night. Most trains in

India have berths in the passenger coaches, but every one furnishes

his own bedding. The next morning found us at Silliguri, and in front

were spread out the Himalayas. From here a start was made up the

mountains.

The Himalaya Mountains rise abruptly out of the flat plains, a

striking contrast to those of other countries. One would expect the

base of the Indian mountains to be at an altitude of 3,000 to 6,000

feet, but Silliguri, located a few miles from where the ascent begins,

is only 400 feet above sea-level.

The interior of the Himalayas is reached by means of a train of small

cars, drawn by a ten-ton locomotive over a two-foot railway track.

There are three classes of travel--first, second and third.

First-class fare is 12 cents a mile, second-class 6 cents, and

third-class 3 cents. These fares include a very small baggage

allowance. First- and second-class coaches are of the compartment

type, third-class having curtained sides, with bare-seated benches

across. The schedule is ten miles an hour, either going up or coming

down the mountain.

The engine soon starts up an incline through a row of trees on both

sides of the track, with every seat in the coaches occupied and the

baggage car filled with luggage. The narrow train turns to the left,

then to the right; another sharp turn, and puff, puff, puff, as a bend

in still another direction is made; down a decline next over culverts

spanning rippling brooks and under turnpike bridges, then up, when the

grandeur of the great range begins to unfold. Down grade again, the

train stopping, after traveling but a comparatively short distance, at

a precipitous wall. Backing out over a switchback--there being five of

these on the mountain railroad--we next creep up a steep, serpentine

grade. Houses above and houses and huts below, surrounded by

semi-tropical growth and cultivated ground--there being little rock in

the mountain--with stretches of low brush, laid out in regular rows,

below us, appear. A house and huts have been built in these bush-like

tracts of land; these are tea gardens. A screeching whistle diverts

the passengers' gaze from downward to forward--we were pulling into

Kurseong, the halfway station, where some passengers get off and

others board the train. The locomotive, being supplied with coal and

water, again begins to puff, puff, puff, up a steep grade for a short

distance, then eases down a decline. The mountain is now so steep that

the narrow train can worm its way no longer about the side, coming to

another switchback. Backing out and again ascending, a silver streak

is seen, far below, winding over the plains--the Teesta River. Above,

the sky appears to rest on green mountain-tops. Upward the little

locomotive climbs, seeming to make sharp bends at every hundred feet.

The mountainside has now become a great tea plantation, and through

the hazy atmosphere the plains are but dimly seen. The sky, which from

below seemed to be resting on the point now reached, is further

beyond. Approaching an ever-receding horizon at distant outposts from

time to time leads one occasionally to fancy he were bumping his

shoulders against the arch of the sky at sundry points of the outer

circle. The narrow train laboriously continues upward, while

passengers direct their gaze down gaping caverns, on the rim of which

the railway track sometimes rests. Further on, the grade gradually

reducing until traveling on a short, level stretch of road, the train

stops. We have reached Ghoom, the highest point on the line, where

more passengers leave and others get out of the coaches to stretch

their legs. Oh! a great white ridge, high above valleys and tea

gardens--it is Mount Kinchinjanga, whose summit seems to intrude far

into the sky. What seems like trespassing on the sky's domain is

explained when the height of the mountain is made known--28,156 feet.

The train again proceeds, but down grade now, still winding and

twisting--not over a quarter of a mile straight track along the

route--until a sharp bend is reached. Then, as far as the eye could

reach, the high, white, stalwart peaks of the Himalayas were revealed

in their grandest form. Further on the train stops. We are at

Darjeeling, the end of the mountain railway, 50 miles from Silliguri.

Baden-Baden, Germany--where one can walk about the splendid grounds

for half a day and need not be exposed to the sun half an hour--had

appealed to me more than any other place visited during my journeyings

until Darjeeling was reached. Here in the State of Sikkim, India,

20,000 feet below the grandest mountain range in the world and built

on the woody sides of a lower range, are seen rippling streams on

their way to a parent river; attractively laid out tea gardens on

steep inclines; a panorama of dwellings spreading out to all points of

the city; deep, wooded valleys on either side, with rivers coursing

these, flanked by flowering orange groves; parks, botanical gardens,

and shady paths cut on the hillsides; observation points and splendid

vistas; then, seen through the blue atmosphere, over low mountains,

valleys, hills and trees, Jalapa La Pass--17,000 feet above sea

level--the route through the Himalayan fastnesses to Lhassa, Thibet;

and, now seen and then unseen, as the many-shaped clouds flitted over

and away, the noble galaxy of white mountains, half circular in form,

to the front and to the right--Darjeeling can claim and deserves a

better description.

Everything seen in the mountain city was different to the plains. The

Bhutias, of decidedly Mongol cast--strong, lighter in color than the

plainsmen, with rosy cheeks--were numerous, and it was good for tired

sight to get away from slender, half-starved looking men, and women

without eyes. Living in this section is another sect, or tribe--the

Goorkhas--admired by all white men for their bravery and feared by

natives. The water here was fit to drink, a luxury in India, and the

air was free of the humidity of the plains; the haughty Bengali could

be seen at nearly every turn, strutting about bareheaded, his hair

tidily brushed; and well-groomed European military officers were

galloping about the hillside roads and paths on spirited steeds.

The Bhutia woman is the "horse" or "ox" of Darjeeling. Like the

Mkikuyu woman, she carries her loads in a basket, a strap fastened to

each side, which loops on her forehead. Few level paths or roads are

found in that section of India, but the Bhutia woman can carry two

maunds (160 pounds) in weight up from tea factories miles below, and

the same amount of coal, provisions, or supplies from the cities to

the settlements on the mountain-sides and down to the valleys. She

appeared as strong as a Zulu woman, but not so big. The country is so

hilly that wagons can be drawn over it only in few sections. Bhutia

men are employed at ricksha work or carrying palanquins. On account of

the steepness of the surroundings, three Bhutias are required to pull

and push a ricksha--one between the thills and two at the back of the

vehicle. Seeing the Bhutias wearing boots was something unusual in

this country. Brakemen, engineers and firemen employed on the mountain

railroad do not wear shoes, and the same applies to natives engaged at

the same occupation on the plains.

"Coolie, Sahib?" or "Coolie, Memsahib?" if man or woman, is the

language of the Bhutia woman when seeking work. Going toward the

market-place, one of these strong women, with strap about her head and

basket held by the ends, will approach a person and quietly say,

"Coolie, Memsahib?" "Yes," was the reply one received from a lady on

her way to market. The Mongol woman followed, engaged in knitting

socks. After vegetables had been bought, the Bhutia woman sidled to

the dealer, turned her back, when the grocer placed the vegetables in

her basket; but she kept on knitting, apparently unconscious of what

was taking place. One will not look back to see if she is following

when leaving a stall; but at the next vegetable stand, in another

section of the market, the Bhutia woman would be standing a short

distance away, still knitting. Every time articles were bought she

turned her basket to the dealer, had these added to the earlier

purchases, and when the marketing was finished she followed the

memsahib to her home, emptied the contents in the kitchen, received

four cents for her work, continuing with her knitting, as she

zigzagged down a steep incline in the direction of the market

district. Bhutia women are very unassuming in their manners. Some save

money, but most of this is spent on jewelry. Discs of gold as large as

the bottom of a saucer may be seen depending from the ears, and large

silver or gold bangles are worn about the wrist. This weakness for

display, however, often proves their downfall, as they are sometimes

found dead along the mountain paths, stripped of every ornament.

Thousands of men and women are employed picking tea leaves during the

season. The tea is picked from the bushes mostly during the monsoon

season, as the new leaves sprout fast during rainy weather. They work

in wet clothes much of the time, but the mountain natives are hardy,

and pay little attention to such discomfort. Men tea-pickers receive

eight cents a day and women six cents. Hut rent, garden, and medical

service is free. Over 3,000 bushes grow to the acre. Sunday is a big

day with these mountain natives; every one working on the tea

plantations for miles around comes to town--Bhutians, Thibetans,

Nepales, and other tribes--when the market-place and bazaars literally

swarm with them. In the Darjeeling district are 60,000 acres of land

under tea cultivation, and the output is nearly 20,000,000 pounds a

year.

The Goorkha is what is known as a "hill man," and is small-built. He

carries a short sword or long knife in a sheath at his side, but will

not show the weapon. It is an old maxim with the Goorkha that blood

must be drawn every time he unsheathes the knife. Were he assigned to

duty by a captain, and a colonel wished to pass, the Goorkha would not

allow the superior officer to go through the lines if he had not

received orders to do so by the officer who gave him his assignment.

He acknowledges only one order--that of the officer who gave it, be he

high or low. Where the big Sikh would run or surrender under a galling

fire, the Goorkha, knowing no fear, would advance and win a battle.

His highest aim in life is to have marked after his name when dead,

"Died in action." When mobs gather and a riot is threatened, if

Goorkhas are assigned to the scene and instructed to quell it, every

one seeks cover when it is announced, "The Goorkhas are coming."

Indians well know the Goorkha order will be followed. He is the

policeman of Darjeeling.

"The only supplies that reached the starving people of India during

the famine were those sent from the United States," was the refreshing

information gathered from an Englishman when touching on Indian

matters. The supplies he referred to were kept from native officials

and looked after by American representatives. Men get rich in India

during famine years through selling relief supplies at a high

figure--sent to be distributed free to the starving. Very few

high-caste Indians have any feeling for the suffering of a poor or

hungry native.

One eats five times a day in India. Tea or coffee is brought to the

room generally before one is up; breakfast is served from nine to ten

o'clock; luncheon at from one to three o'clock; tea at from five to

six, and dinner from eight to nine o'clock. Band music, bioscope, and

other amusements take place, but are finished before dinner. In hot

countries Europeans bathe from one to three times a day.

Along the bank of a river, stream, or pond may be seen dozens of

Indians doing their washing, and clothes spread out on the grass to

dry. They are soaped and rolled together and juggled in the hands of

the "dobey," and the next stage sees the same fellow slamming them,

with all his strength, against a rock. One would look a long time for

a washboard in India.

[Illustration: MOUNT KINCHINJANGA (HIMALAYAS). CENTER PEAK IN CIRCLE,

MOUNT EVEREST.

DARJEELING, INDIA. (Photo, Burlington.)]

A trip was made to Tiger Hill, six miles from Darjeeling, from which

point of observation is seen the summit of Mount Everest, rising to a

height of 29,002 feet, located in the State of Nepal, India. The space

intervening between this point and Everest is over 100 miles, and only

a tip of the apex of this, the highest mountain in the world, appears

to view. But even a peep at that premier pile of earth, rock, ice and

snow will partially satisfy the heart of one who yearns to see

nature's best in its varied forms. Everest, as seen from Tiger Hill,

is flanked by a peak on each side, both of which appear superior to

the king of mountains; but that delusion is accounted for by the two

plainer-appearing sentinels being much nearer to the point of

observation than the center white peak, Everest. It is hard to believe

that, if Mounts Cook, Ruapehu and Kosciusko were placed one on top of

the other, the combined height of the three Australasian mountains

would be lower than the dome of Everest; or that, if Mount Aux

Sources was lifted on top of Kilimanjaro, these African mountains

would be only slightly higher than Everest. Also, that if Jungfrau was

raised on top of Mount Blanc--two prides of the Alps--Everest would be

only a few hundred feet lower than their combined height; and were two

of the most noted mountains of the Western Continent--Shasta and

Ranier--piled one on top of the other, the culminating point of these

would be several hundred feet below the climaxing point of Everest.

Then, from the corner of the eye, while focussing the gaze on Everest,

an imposing white pile of grandeur--Kinchinjanga--second only to

Everest, tempts one to divert his view to its plainer seen and

noteworthy proportions. About Kinchinjanga, which rises its icy dome

28,156 feet above sea-level, clusters a noble family of sons, the

Hercules of mountains. Janu comes first, towering to a height of

25,304 feet; Kabru next, 24,015 feet; then Simolchun, with 22,270 feet

to its credit, and Pandim, 22,017 feet. There are still other noble

peaks in the Himalaya range, plainly seen from this viewpoint, that

appear small when associated with the greater monuments of nature's

buildings.

All the natural agencies of earth, and those under the earth, could

not impair the grandeur of Mounts Everest and Kinchinjanga. A fierce

attack of wind and storm would only amuse these giants, as the summits

would be enjoying sunshine during the day; in the afterglow, from the

frosty flakes on the snowy domes, would irradiate soft, golden gleams

of light, and at night from these flakes would also sparkle blue-white

beams--reflected from the stars above--while the elements would be

vainly centering their forces at invulnerable parts below. Lightning

could not disturb even a pebble on these climaxing monuments, for ice

and snow is so deep on their summits, and for several miles below,

that the rock-like, glacial crust would prevent the forked thongs from

penetrating to the surface soil. Earthquakes might center their

rending powers at these stupendous vouchers of God's greatness, but

the result, if any, would be merely deep, wide breaches, so cleaved,

mayhap, as to form the design of the Cross or other holy emblem on a

prominent escarpment, and serve only to enhance their present

nobleness to a greater degree of reverence. And if the fires under the

earth should unite to destroy these Colossi of the Himalayas,

mustering every vestige of force and centering all into one tremendous

avulsion--the fires' fury finally succeeding in forcing vents at the

vertexes of these sky-piercing peaks--even then, thus riven, Everest

and Kinchinjanga would gloatingly belch from their crowning domes

rivers of liquid fire and eject prodigious quantities of flaming rock

and scoria, spreading broadcast their sulphurous outpourings for

hundreds of miles around, their lurid streams coursing the sides--all

of which would only serve to draw people from every section of the

world to gaze on the fascinating and appalling spectacle, that would

measure second only in widespread flare at night to heaven's own

aurora in the early morning.

The term "timber-line," referring to mountains, means the limit of

altitude at which vegetation grows. Timber-line in the United States

is marked at altitudes of 10,000 to 12,000 feet. On some peaks, this

line, often of stunted oaks six to twelve inches in height and one to

three inches thick, is as decided as a steel band around a circular

smokestack. Here and in Thibet, in an atmosphere refreshed by high,

snow-capped mountains, the force of the sun is apparent by trees, and

even vegetables, thriving at altitudes of 15,000 to 18,000 feet.

Helmets must be worn in the hill regions, as on the plains, to protect

one from sunstroke.

The blue atmosphere--the sheen of the sky--in the Himalayas is of a

deeper color than that seen on the Blue Mountains of Australia. The

only place where a similar atmosphere was observed in America was from

Grand View, when looking into the marvelous maw of the Grand Canyon of

Arizona.

Vegetation on the lower mountains was different to that of the plains.

The magnolia was seen, also the oleander, the chestnut tree, and the

oak; but the bark of the latter tree was different in color and shape

to that of the American variety, although the acorns were the same.

A large number of British troops are stationed at Darjeeling, and

three forts have been built on the sides of a mountain facing Thibet.

Not even a goat could get through Jalapa La Pass if the guns of these

forts were trained on the noted mountain passageway.

Darjeeling is a favorite vacation center for the people of India, both

European and native, in the summer season. In addition to the natural

attractiveness of this place, there is also a museum and a library.

Splendid mountain trips are at one's selection.

Down the two-foot wide mountain railway we traveled to Silliguri,

boarded a passenger train, and were soon speeding over the flat plains

of Bengal, with Assam to the east. Palms grow in that section of

India, and the limbs at the bottom of the bushy tops had been freshly

cut and seemed to be scraped. The native drink--"toddy"--is partly

made from the juice of the palm after fermentation, when it is used as

an ingredient with distilled rice. Hemp, or jute, reeds were lying in

pools of water along the railway track to soften, when the fiber would

be stripped from the stalk and later made into rope. Sixteen hours

after leaving Silliguri the train pulled up at Sealdah Station,

Calcutta, the second largest city in the British Empire.

CHAPTER V

Calcutta, although having a population a quarter greater than Bombay,

does not measure up to the Parsi stronghold in architectural

appearance. Still, one of the best municipal parks in the world, the

Maidan, is located in the center of the city; it is two miles long,

one mile wide, and is bounded on one side by the Hooghly River and on

the other by one of the principal streets of Calcutta, Chowringhee

Road. The Maidan is ornamented by splendid monuments to men who took

part in the various mutinies, and those who, in the opinion of the

British government, wisely and bravely guided the affairs of this

country.

We had again got to where street cars were running, where newspapers

were published, masts on ships were to be seen; hotels with two or

more stories, electric lights, and big buildings, also sidewalks--in

short, we were in the largest city of India. Fourteen hundred miles

separate Calcutta and Bombay.

Street cars appeared better patronized by Europeans here than in

Bombay. There are two grades of travel to the city cars--first and

second class. The fare was cheap, first-class three cents and

second-class two cents.

Calcutta is better managed than Bombay, notably, fewer beggars are

allowed on the streets; and some features that do not add credit to a

city were under better control. Official firmness in other ways was

also noticeable. It was in the Province of Bengal that the mutiny

started, in 1857.

Modern machinery--linotype machines, web presses, and stereotyping

appliances--is in use on the daily newspapers of Calcutta, and very

creditable newspapers are published. But there is little saving in

modern machinery in India. An overseer of one of the printing plants

stated that they installed the linotype machines only to be modern,

but that there was no saving, in view of hand help being so cheap. The

wages paid run from $8 to $18 a month. The same applies to flour or

rice mills. Women may be seen in any part of India turning two stones

with which the rice and wheat are ground into flour.

This city has a good business appearance, over 200 factories being

located within a short radius, a number of rope or jute mills among

them. Beside this native product, tea, opium, grain, indigo, raw silk,

and cotton are exported from Calcutta. Some of the streets are

literally packed with ox carts loaded with these articles of export.

Horses are used only for cabs, oxen being the beasts used for

vehicular traffic from one end of the country to the other. As in

Bombay, the joints in oxen's tails have been broken so often by the

drivers twisting them that they resemble threads of a large wooden

screw.

The Black Hole of Calcutta, into which 146 human beings were forced on

June 20, 1756, and out of which 23 came alive the next morning, does

not compare in savagery with the Massacre Well at Cawnpore. Suraja

Dowlah, the Nwab of Murshedabad, had placed the 146 prisoners in the

building, the remainder of the British having made good their escape.

Contrary to general belief, the building called the Black Hole was not

a dungeon, but merely a lock-up for disorderly soldiers. The prison,

22 feet long by 14 feet wide, was too small for such a number of

people. The time being June, torrid at this season of the year, will

account for the deaths. No butchering took place, the detention was

for but one night, and, to give the Nwab his just due, the tragedy was

unintentional, according to some historians. Part of the space where

the old prison stood has been taken for a large building, and the

portion not occupied has been covered with black marble--the incident

inscribed on a slab of marble above--surrounded by a high, black wire

fence.

The Hooghly River, so called by Europeans, but termed Ganges River by

natives, is a busy waterway, and the sea, or Bay of Bengal, is not

reached until a distance of 80 miles from Calcutta has been traveled.

This river is a large one, the water muddy, and very treacherous for

navigation. The same style of craft seen at Bombay--the dhow--is the

ship of the Hooghly, and is similar to that in use thousands of years

ago. It offers a picturesque, though archaic, appearance. Hooghly

water is considered sacred by the Hindus living in this section.

Calcutta is not as interesting as Bombay, but there are three things

in the premier city of India that attract--the Maidan, museum and

botanical garden. Another feature, well known throughout British

territory, is the racecourse. The museum is a splendid building facing

the Maidan, and located on the principal street; the collection would

do credit to even larger cities than Calcutta. The zoo is a good one,

some native rhinoceros here seeming three times heavier than the

African breed.

The botanical garden contains the great banyan tree, the remarkable

feature of which is that roots grow from the limbs of the tree

downward, take root on reaching the ground, and then grow into the

earth like a tree that starts from the ground. From these aërial roots

growing downward now stand over 200 trunks. The tree is not high, but

spreads widely, the distances separating the outer limbs from one side

to the other being 330 feet. The space intervening is studded with

tree trunks that, when young, had started from the limbs they now

support as props. The form of the banyan growth is circular, so would

be over 300 feet across from outer limb to outer limb from any point.

Around the circle of limbs the distance is over a thousand feet. It is

a beautiful tree, and well worth going to see. The botanical garden is

splendidly laid out, and contains many strange varieties of growth.

European merchants have secured a foothold in Calcutta, and a visitor

is surprised to see the fine stores and large stocks of goods carried.

Even European barbers are found here, a rarity in India.

Some European women, unfortunately, have married titled Indians in

the belief that a son or daughter would inherit their father's

possessions and title. High-caste women in India are seldom seen

walking about, as custom forbids such freedom; so, after the European

bride reaches her husband's country, her life is that of a

semi-prisoner. Her husband may be only a rajah, with title outweighing

rupees, in which event her home might be located behind an odorous

bazaar. Should she bear a daughter, little is thought of the event,

but should she bring a son into the world she is very fortunate, if

life by that time has any charm for her, if she and the son do not

accidentally die in child-birth. Such a contingency as a Eurasian

inheriting an Indian's title and estate is not to be thought of. Her

husband will have a native wife in addition to his white wife, and

should the latter fail to bear a son he would take still another

native wife, and should there be no male issue from the second native

union he may take yet a third native wife. Where a titled Indian is

not succeeded by a direct native heir the custom of adopting heirs is

common. A white wife's offspring, however, has no hope whatever of

becoming the reigning heir.

The Eurasian is half Asiatic and half European. His social standing is

really pitiable, as Indians hate him because he is neither Indian nor

European, and white people, for the same reason, do not encourage

social equality.

Kali Ghat, or Kali Temple, located some distance from the business

center of Calcutta, was dedicated to Kali, the wife of the god Shiva.

It is a terrible place. Mercenary priests, eager to obtain a fee,

almost fight for the privilege of showing one about the gruesome

premises. Two posts, a space of eight inches separating them, were

raised from the ground three feet, through which holes had been bored

to correspond. Two pins were put through the holes of both posts. To

the rear was a shed, in which were standing at least a hundred

half-grown male goats. The posts were located close to the entrance of

the temple. A goat was brought to the posts, the upper pin pulled out,

the goat's head placed between the posts, when the pin was inserted in

the holes, the space between the pins--about four inches--preventing

the goat from pulling his head backward. A brass pot, containing

water, rested on the ground, from which a man took a handful of water

and sprinkled it on the goat's neck. This was Ganges water--holy

water. Without ceremony, the man who had sprinkled the neck of the

goat swung a big knife over his head, and when it was brought down the

goat's head was severed. A woman squatted at the trunk end of the

severed neck, with a brass cup in her hand, catching the dripping

blood. When the first flush of blood ceased she quickly arose and

literally ran to the temple entrance. Inside, she offered the blood

sacrifice to the god Kali. All the time weird-sounding gongs and music

came from the interior of the temple, the heads of goats being severed

at frequent intervals in front of the entrance, each having been

bought by the disciple making the blood offering. From that scene the

priest takes a visitor to the burning ghat, and in the instance

related there were six pyres consuming dead, but none of the

"mourners" looking on gave the slightest intimation of grief. Two

hours' time is required for burning, and the price of wood for that

purpose was $1.15. The ashes are thrown in a lagoon of the Hooghly, or

Ganges, River. Church holidays in India are called "pujas," and great

crowds frequent Kali Temple on certain puja occasions.

Large numbers of native babies are mortgaged before they are born. The

country swarms with baniyas, or money-lenders, who are a curse to

India. Parents who wish to visit Benares, the sacred city, borrow

money to defray expenses of the trip. Weddings often cost a

considerable sum for poor people--from $25 to $150--and, in order to

maintain their caste position, people borrow the necessary rupees.

Famine years, sickness and other causes also force the people to

borrow money. The rates of interest are very high. Land in India is of

hereditary ownership, and rajahs and maharajahs charge a high rental

to the worker. An income tax of 12 per cent. is collected on a yearly

income of $300 and above.

Saugar Island is located at the delta of the Hooghly River, and Hindu

widows wend their way in large numbers to what the Hindu avers is a

sacred bathing place. As stated earlier, widows are held responsible

for the death of their husbands, although the wife might be but five

or six years of age when her husband died, and living with her

parents, and the husband from 20 to 60 years of age, having other

wives. The traditional, withering contempt and inhuman disregard for

these creatures cause widows to resort to any form of deprivation,

degradation and self-punishment--some of which are having their hair

shaved to the scalp, although they prize it highly; cast any money and

jewels they may have into the ocean, if a crafty priest does not catch

the arm and obtain, and retain, the treasure before it leaves their

hands; bathe in the waters, even though the breakers be mountain high,

knowing they will be swallowed by the sea; trudge from holy shrine to

sacred altar in various parts of India--all in the hope that their

sacrifices and atonement may satisfy the wrath of the gods they are

supposed to have provoked by taking away from earth the husband who

bought them from their father. A Hindu widow is thought much less of

than a pariah dog; she is the most pitiable object on earth.

Leaving European and official sections of Calcutta, one comes to

street after street without sidewalks; with heavy ox-cart traffic;

natives as thick as flies, but no white people about; the usual vile

odors coming from the bazaar section; bony, half-dressed, ragged

people at every turn--all with somber faces.

The native of the Province of Bengal is the proudest man in India, and

is said to need watching in transactions of every kind more than those

from other parts. He seldom wears head-covering, his hair is smoothly

dressed, he is erect, and walks with a pompous stride. One can always

tell a Bengali, as he appears neater in appearance than Indians from

other sections. His looks betoken his thoughts, for he entertains the

opinion that he is the essence of human kind in India, or even of the

world. As in all other cities of this country, the streets were poorly

lighted at night. Calcutta is a new city compared to other places in

India, as it dates back to only 1690.

There being no rickshas in Calcutta, one of the means of getting about

is by palki, an upholstered box, seating one person. The box rests on

poles, and four coolies--two at each end--the poles resting on their

shoulders, lift the palki and fare and start off at a trot. They

receive 12 to 20 cents an hour for carrying a person--three or five

cents each.

After crossing the Hooghly River bridge, a railway train was boarded

at Howrah Station, a modern and creditable building, for Madras, over

a thousand miles southward. The trains on that road were not as good

as some we had traveled on in other sections of India, but sleeping

berths were included with the equipment. The Indian reminds one of the

American negro in one respect--that of sleeping. He seemed to be at

home in any place, so far as sleep is concerned, for in the coaches

during the day the berth would be taken down in the compartment, and,

slipping off his sandals, he would soon be fast asleep. One peculiar

feature of this sleeping tendency, however, was that he would always

be awake when the train reached his destination, as stations are

seldom announced.

Save for hills in the distance, the country was as flat as any passed

through while traveling over the Doab and other sections. Sugar-cane

was one of the crops seen during the journey, and peanuts was another.

After 40 hours' travel the train stopped some distance outside of

Madras, as passengers had to be examined by a doctor for disease

indications, and the train was detained until that official duty had

been gone through. In most countries boat passengers must undergo a

medical examination when reaching port, but it was the first time we

had been subjected to a railway train examination. This precaution was

taken to keep out bubonic plague.

The conquest of India by England, as it may be termed, had its

inception in Madras, for in that city British merchants first

established themselves. The East India Company grew more powerful as

time passed, first acquiring sections of land and later provinces. The

founding of the East India Company dates back to 1639. This section of

India is known as the Southeast Presidency, and is presided over by a

governor, appointed by the King of England, Madras being the capital.

Madras, with a population of over half a million, is the prettiest

city in India we have seen. The River Cooum winds its way through the

Tamil metropolis by a very circuitous route, and the land for some

distance along the banks has been reserved for parks. The government

buildings are attractive, shade trees are numerous, and the city is

abundantly supplied with parks and driveways. We had reached the sea

again. A splendid drive and promenade has been built on the shore of

the Bay of Bengal.

The natives in this part of India are known as Tamils, and it is from

here the Indians in South Africa and those in Fiji, and possibly those

in the United States, came. The reader will have gathered from my

earlier notes an idea of some of the miserable creatures encountered

during the journey, but the Tamils met with in Madras, those with whom

one comes in contact in the nature of servants, ricksha pullers, and

that class, were the worst in all India. One would no sooner have

stepped into a ricksha than the puller would place his hand on his

stomach and then to his mouth, which meant he was hungry. No doubt

they were in need of food--a majority of the people of India are not

half fed--but the striking feature of Madras was that every one who

did anything for a person was practically a beggar.

The first Christian church built in India was St. Mary's, in Madras.

Elihu Yale, the benefactor of Yale College, is identified with St.

Mary's by his presenting to that building one piece of the church

plate. The United States also is represented by a splendid Y. M. C. A.

building of red sandstone, the benefactor being a noted merchant.

It is really surprising, when one visits a city like Madras, so far

away from the more enlightened centers of the world, to find such a

large number of colleges and other means of education there. In

addition, this place is well supplied with a Y. M. C. A. building,

libraries, club buildings, churches of various Christian

denominations, a museum, a zoo and an aquarium. The same applies to

the larger centers of India in general, but not in such proportion as

those of this city.

Titled Indians, when visiting England, are sometimes received by the

King and Queen, and are next entertained by lesser royalty, this

attention being given much publicity in the British press and also

cabled to other continents. But in India the social lines are not so

flexible. European clubs in the Far East are popular centers of

association, and a native sovereign's application to become a member

of one of these, though composed even of European clerks, would very

likely receive unfavorable consideration.

The punkha is the fan in general use in India, except that in some

hotels in the larger cities electric fans are in service. Rods or

ropes are secured to screw-eyes driven in the ceiling, and to the end

of these a pole or wire is fastened that extends across a room. Canvas

or palm leaves are attached. This covering, which falls from the pole

a foot to eighteen inches, is the source of air when moved. There may

be a dozen of these "fans" stretching across a large dining room; and

tables are placed under the punkhas. These are connected by a string

or wire running from the first to the second punkha, and so on. A

stout rope, tied to the first punkha, is placed over a small pulley in

the wall or partition, extending outside the building. An Indian,

unseen, pulls the rope, when the fans in the room move, and air will

be stirring. Frequently the punkha puller dozes off, when the fans

will move slowly. One knows then he will soon be asleep.

Thousands of half-starved coolies, nearly naked, with a squatty basket

made of bamboo strips in their hands or on their heads, may be seen in

any section of India. That basket is his "work-box," in which he

carries anything required.

An umbrella is the sign of authority in this section of the world

where a group of natives are engaged at work. Whether the weather be

wet, cloudy, or clear, the Indian foreman is known by his holding an

umbrella.

A finger bowl is placed at the side of every plate when serving food

in India.

The word "calico" had its origin in India. The city of Calicut,

whence the word calico is derived, was a cotton goods manufacturing

center in early times.

Madras, the third largest city in India, is composed mostly of Hindus,

and where that sect is found the sacred cows and bulls will be in

evidence, as well as the miserable widows, the burning ghats; the

mothers who give their young daughters to depraved priests who

persuade the parents they will gain special favor in the sight of the

gods for so doing; the goat-slaughtering places, the idols of monkeys,

snakes, and other characters, and juggernaut cars. The Hindu has

little to recommend him in either person or religion, and yet the

best-fed things we saw in that country were connected with the

church--the sacred bulls and cows.

The native quarters and the temples were the same as have been touched

on in our Indian notes. The bazaars were the same, and there seemed to

be more nearly naked people, owing to the weather on the Coramandel

coast being warmer than that further north. One wonders how Europeans

stand the heat, as few cool breezes blow in the hot sections of that

country to refresh the jaded.

Mention has been made on several occasions of the appalling mortality

from fevers and pestilence. A considerable portion of the mortality

may be accounted for, however, when the reader learns that there is

practically no sewerage from east to west and from south to north in

this thickly populated country. With no sewerage, and the habits of

the people as a race being the opposite of clean, together with all of

the Hindus holding in reverence venomous snakes and mad dogs, and some

sects bedbugs, mosquitoes, and vermin, the wonder is not at the great

number that fall victims to these various causes, but how to account

for so many being alive.

Madras was the last stop in India, as a train was boarded for

Tuticorin. We passed through a country that is celebrated for its

splendid temples, which are strange to understand when one sees the

crude tools and archaic methods employed to do ordinary kinds of work.

In the artistic designs and richness of construction of some temples

and mosques one sees the acme of art, and in mechanism the mien.

Judging from the latter, it might seem that some skilled race of

people had made their abode in that country during the period of

construction of some of the buildings, and then had passed out,

unseen, as it were. The people of India, as they appear to Europeans,

with their marble and gold buildings, seem to be a contradiction. The

country was flat to Tuticorin, half of it being under water, the

monsoons just having ended.

CHAPTER VI

The sail from Tuticorin to Colombo, Ceylon, is 147 miles. The first

thing one notices in Colombo, the capital of Ceylon, is the large

number of natives wearing very little clothing. Ricksha pullers are as

numerous as flies and very annoying, as they follow one about the

streets for an hour in the hope that the visitor will patronize the

two-wheeled sulky. Where men and women are dressed, it is hard to tell

which from which, as a large number of the men wear long hair, tied at

the back in a knot. In addition, the high-caste Singhalese wears an

amber-colored comb just under the crown of his head; it is what women

call a backcomb. A great many of these are made from turtle shell and

are very expensive, based on the wealth of the wearer. Men's clothes

look more like a dress than man's apparel, so, when men are seen

wearing long hair, a backcomb, and a sort of dress, one looks on them

as half-women. The women are much given to wearing clothes of

flaring-colored cloth, but there is still a strong reflection of India

on all sides. The best way to appreciate Ceylon is to visit that

island before visiting India, for after one has passed through India

and then visits the lesser country he will not absorb some of the

beautiful and interesting things for which Ceylon is famed, because of

the noted mosques, temples, mountains, and teeming millions found in

the greater country.

The congested population of Ceylon may be inferred from its

area--25,000 square miles--containing over 4,000,000 people. The

island is 270 miles long and 140 miles wide at its broadest part.

Since 1796 the island has been under British control. The exports are

interesting, as they include tea, coffee, cinnamon, cocoa, cocoanut

oil and rubber, besides other tropical products. Ceylon is

administered by a governor, who is subject to the Secretary of State

for the Colonies in London.

Scaffolding used in Ceylon and other Eastern countries when erecting

buildings is odd. The supports to which the floors of the scaffolding

rest are bamboo poles, and the crosspieces and other material used to

work on are held together by rope, no nails being used. The

scaffolding is so bulky, crude and shaky that the walls of a building

look as if they were out of plumb, but the scaffolding nearly always

hides the new building entirely from view.

Most of the ships plying Eastern seas stop at Colombo, and, with the

exception of Port Said, it is perhaps one of the most popular maritime

stations in the world.

The buildings of Colombo would not suggest being in far-off Ceylon.

They are composed of brick, stone, and mortar, several stories in

height. The streets are clean. Colombo, however, is the rosy apple

with the decayed center, as a mile from the European or business

center is the Pettah, or native town, with its squalid quarters,

narrow streets, ox carts, absence of sidewalks, people barefooted, and

many of untidy appearance. More English is spoken in Ceylon than in

India. The population of Colombo is nearly 200,000.

A splendid driveway and promenade runs along the ocean front, and is

paved from the city to a well-known hotel. Also a good park and museum

that is interesting. Cinnamon trees grow in the park, and from the

bark of the trees a cinnamon odor arises. There are two qualities of

the cinnamon, known as quills and bark. The quills look like bark

strips taken from a sapling, and are over a foot in length, tied in

bundles. The export of cinnamon from Ceylon is 120,000,000 pounds of

bark a year. All the vegetation about Colombo is tropical.

One of the social gauges by which a European is measured is the class

of railway coach in which he travels. If it be a second-class coach he

is thought little of by the natives, and is apt to get the cold

shoulder from Europeans. When a white man has become a victim to the

liquor habit and loses self-respect in the black countries a

collection is generally taken up among Europeans to buy his passage to

some other country.

Some 6,000 Europeans live in Ceylon, which accounts for the

newspapers being well patronized, both in the city and throughout the

island.

One of the prettiest trips in the world is from Colombo to Kandy, 75

miles separating the two cities. One meets with cocoanut palms and

other tropical growths in the hot countries along the sea coast, but

to travel through a tropical section on a railway train for that

distance is unusual. The train passes through a stretch of heavy

vegetation, then an open strip of country, with bright green-colored

rice paddies (fields or patches) on both sides of the track. Next the

train is flanked by groves of cocoanut palms, which disappear when the

train darts into a tunnel. Emerging, on the side of the hill will be

seen growing the broad-leafed breadfruit tree, and a similar looking

one, the jacfruit tree, with large, rough-looking shuck, is also a

product of the soil. Down in the valley the pale-green paddies will be

found, the rice growing in a foot of water. Into another tunnel the

train suddenly disappears, and an upward grade is traveled, when

short, stubby rows of tea bushes appear. Then, looking to the right,

rise mountains to a height of 2,000 feet. On another side natives may

be seen in a large grove, with small tin cups in their hands, devoting

their time to the trees; these are rubber-tree tappers and sap

collectors. The air has now become clearer and cooler than the humid

atmosphere of Colombo. Along the roads that parallel the railway track

may be seen a light wagon, or trap, with two fast-stepping bullocks

hitched to the vehicle. These are known as "trotting bullocks," and

are the fastest means of passenger transportation away from the more

populous centers. All landscape scenes and vistas on the route from

Colombo to Kandy are luxuriantly tropical.

Kandy has a population of 25,000, but if the same place were located

in Europe or in the United States, considering its attractiveness,

half a million people would occupy one-story bungalows on the

verdure-drooping hillsides and the pretty valley would be lined by

homes of wealthy people far beyond the limited space now built upon.

Splendid roadways and paths, embowered with tropical leaves, have been

cut into the hillsides, and from these one looks down on a pretty

lake in the valley. When the beauty and attractiveness of places

cannot be truly portrayed by modern photographic appliances, it is

difficult to reflect their characteristics with the pen. The altitude

of Kandy is nearly 2,000 feet above sea-level, which insures a better

atmosphere than is usually found on the coast in tropical climes.

Kandy was the capital of what was known as the Kandy Kingdom, and was

subjected to attacks by both the Portuguese and Dutch from the

sixteenth to the eighteenth centuries, when England added that section

of Ceylon to her possessions, in 1815.

Buddha's tooth and other sacred Hindu relics having been brought to

Kandy at an earlier date was the means of bringing that pretty place

in Ceylon to the fore. It has not been made clear whether Buddha had

but one molar or a full set, but the inference is that he had but one

tooth, as the sacred bone is referred to as Buddha's tooth. There is

no question about Buddha having been quite a traveler, as the imprints

of his foot will be shown visitors at places separated by many

hundreds of miles. And in connection with the foot imprint, it is

always designated as Buddha's foot, so, if the one-tooth theory is to

be entertained, his having but one foot, or one leg, would be equally

as tenable. The tooth, anyway, like the Koh-i-Noor diamond, was

considered a treasure, and for that precious reason it had been stolen

on several occasions, but the original molar seems to have got lost,

or some one is secreting it until the price of that particular bone

advances to a fabulous figure. But the Hindus of Ceylon had to have a

Buddha tooth, so an imitation "grinder" was made--a piece of

discolored ivory two inches long and about an inch in diameter, which

looks more like a crocodile's tooth than that of a man. The sacred

tooth is said to repose now under a golden lotus flower, and the

flower is hidden by seven metal shrines containing jewels in a sacred

building in the courtyard of Maligawa Temple. In front of the temple

is a tank containing tortoises, from whose "coverings," perhaps, the

Singhalese will make haircombs later.

Taking a short trip from Kandy, a river was reached, and the ferry

boat was slowly pulled from one side to the other by men with ropes.

The boat was crowded with ox teams and almost naked natives. A short

distance from the ferry landing seven elephants were seen bathing in

the river. Continuing along a tropical overgrown road, at a bend we

were confronted with three elephants in charge of mahouts, each

carrying by its teeth four sacks of copra. A rope had been placed

around the center of the bags, was pulled tight, and a short end of it

was held by the elephants' grinders. The products were being brought

to the ferry by the big beasts, and oxen would then draw this to

Kandy, the nearest railroad center. By the same means tea and other

products are transported, and provisions from Kandy are delivered at

the other side of the river, from which point elephants advance the

wares beyond. The elephants are owned by an heir of the old Kandy

rulers, and on certain holidays they are brought to the city, when

they parade about the former capital fifteen times.

Women standing in water nearly to their knees were engaged at

transplanting rice stalks in paddies. The paddies, or beds, which are

banked with earth from 6 to 12 inches on all sides to retain water,

range in area from a space six feet square to a plot containing acres.

In these the rice is sown, and when the stalks have grown to about a

foot high most of them are transplanted. In some parts of the paddy

the rice will be too thickly sowed, and in other sections not thick

enough. The stalks in the thickets will then be pulled out, those left

being the regular growth. The surplus stalks will next be transplanted

in thinly sowed places of the bed. By this means the paddy would be

equally sown; and it was interesting to observe the alertness with

which the work progressed. At a place in India a dozen men were seen

baling water from a ditch into a paddy with their hands, illustrating

the crude methods in use. Rice is the staple food of natives in

Ceylon.

In both India and Ceylon one never sees a woman servant engaged at

housework in European homes or hotels. Men are exclusively employed at

this occupation, women doing the harder work in the fields, carrying

water, bricks, etc.

The Royal Botanical Garden, located a few miles from Kandy, was the

most interesting one seen. We had visited the clove groves at

Zanzibar, and specimens were growing in the Kandy garden, but we had

not seen the nutmeg tree before. The nutmeg grows on a tree as large

as the buckeye, or horse chestnut, and is of the same nature,

differing in one respect, however, the nutmeg being protected by an

inner shuck. It falls from the tree, when the outer shuck cracks, but

is protected by the inner or second covering. It is then the size and

color of a pink peach, but when the second shuck has been removed the

nutmeg of commerce is seen. The vanilla bean hung from vines in the

garden; the pepper vine was seen among the plants growing; the sago

palm grew there, also the "candlestick" tree, besides other rare

growths. Some of the larger trees in this garden were bare of leaves,

which tropical oddity was accounted for by the presence of flying

foxes--the same as those mentioned in Leg Four--hanging by the claws

of one leg from the limbs during the day. There were thousands of

these large bats, and, as in Tonga, they were considered sacred, and

no one would kill them.

In this part of Ceylon most of the land was under tea cultivation. Tea

exports from the island are nearly 190,000,000 pounds a year.

While oxen are the means of transportation in both India and Ceylon,

automobiles may be seen skimming about the good roads in both

countries.

A return was made to Colombo, where a ship, on which passage had been

engaged, was about due to leave that port. I had sailed on English,

Swedish and German vessels till I had reached Bombay; but from Colombo

I started east on a Japanese ship.

LEG SEVEN

CHAPTER I

Hearing passengers refer to incidents that took place aboard ship

"three weeks ago" sounded far-fetched in these days of speedy travel,

yet those on this Japanese ship had been at sea over four weeks when

the vessel sailed from Colombo on her Far Eastern voyage. The European

passengers were nearly all English, and not a single American was met

with. Some Japanese and Chinese were traveling second-class, but

Europeans were assigned certain tables and the "yellow" men had tables

to themselves. Steamship fare is reasonable for long voyages, but the

fare from intermediate ports in this section of the world is

expensive. The ship was loaded to the water-line with cargo, and every

berth was occupied. The deck was covered with a double canvas as we

traveled through a tropical sun over the Indian Ocean. Some of the

passengers were going to Siam and Cochin-China, others to the

Federated Malay States, a few to Borneo, and a number to Java; also

others bound for Hongkong, Manila, and Shanghai, the southern Japanese

ports, and the remainder for Yokohama, Japan, the last stop. The

voyage was from Antwerp, Belgium, to Yokohama, a nine weeks' journey.

Until recently marine insurance companies would not take any risk with

Japanese-manned ships, for which reason the merchant fleet of Japan

had been under the direction of British captains and chief engineers.

In order that Japanese could command Japanese ships, examinations for

the position of captain or chief engineer was made more severe than

that required by other countries. By this means the services of

British officers are gradually being dispensed with, insurance

companies now recognizing the efficiency of Japanese navigators.

Three days out from Colombo land was seen to the south--Sumatra, a

Dutch possession, where the natives cause much trouble. Entering the

Straits of Malacca, bounded on the north by the Malay Peninsula and on

the south by Sumatra, for 500 miles--the length of the Straits--we

sailed in sight of land. (The Indian Ocean had been crossed and

recrossed on the trip to Australia and back to South Africa, then to

Mombasa and over to Bombay.) We have now left the Straits and the

Indian Ocean, and the ship is sailing through an island-dotted stretch

of sea; a city appears ahead--Singapore, the maritime junction of the

Far East.

What a difference in the condition of the people in this city to those

seen in India and Ceylon! None looked starved, there were no deformed

people, no beggars, and the natives were tidier and better dressed.

The native Malay is much lighter in color than the Indian and

Singhalese. Though the Malay is the native of Singapore, Chinese far

outnumber them or any other race.

The business section of Singapore is as flat as the Indian plains, and

when a heavy shower of rain falls some of the streets are under water

two feet. The population of the Straits Settlements metropolis is over

300,000 and, as in India, there is no sewerage in the city. The

streets in the native and Chinese quarters were better looked after

than those in Indian cities in similar sections. Some of the business

buildings are good and substantial, with elevators in the larger

structures. Many of the sidewalks are covered by balconies to

buildings in the business district, which is accounted for by the hot

weather in that section the year round, Singapore being located 80

miles north of the equator.

All vessels sailing in that part of the world stop at Singapore--those

going to Java, Borneo, Siam, Cochin-China, south or north of the

Philippine group, and vessels that continue to China and Japan. Some

vessels go no further east than Singapore, and again start from that

point west.

The Straits Settlements comprise the island of Singapore, the Province

of Malacca and a number of other islands in that district. The

Federated Malay States are embraced in the Malay Peninsula, all of

which is under British rule. The governor of the Straits Settlements

also has jurisdiction over the Federated States. The city of Singapore

was selected as an English settlement by Stamford Raffles in 1819, at

that time a small native colony. Singapore island is 28 miles long and

14 miles wide.

Irish potatoes do not grow in that section, and one seldom has fresh

milk, condensed milk being the lacteal generally used in many sections

of the tropics. It looked strange to see a big ship unloading for days

cases containing tins of milk, brought from Europe, to a country where

grass is always green.

Thousands of acres of Singapore Island are under pineapple

cultivation, and large quantities of that fruit are shipped from this

port. The bountiful yield of this product has been brought about

almost entirely through the industriousness of Chinese.

Passing a cocoanut grove, trees, almost uprooted, will be seen lying

flat on the ground, the fronds being as fresh and green as those

standing. Nothing can inspire hope so much as the cocoanut palm. It is

often blown down by storms, twisted and wrecked, but as long as there

is left even a thread of root the palm will continue to grow. As soon

as it has recovered from the shock, so to speak, the bushy top that

had been flattened on the earth from the fall will be seen pointing

upward. Pass the same dethroned palm later, and the fronds will be

found to be in a direct line with the rays of the sun at midday. Under

any adversity its head will be pointed straight upward. A large

tonnage of copra is also shipped from this port, there being extensive

cocoanut plantations on Singapore and adjacent islands.

This part of the world is rubber mad. Rubber grows in some sections of

the Federated States better than anywhere else. Questionable rubber

companies operate here, however, stock being issued and dealt in,

after which the "sharpers" get aboard-ship and disappear. As much as

400 pounds of rubber an acre is gathered yearly, the price running

from $3 to $4 a pound. Much of the tin used in the world is mined in

this district, which, with rubber, are also staple exports from this

port.

The currency of the Straits Settlements is the dollar, which in that

country equals 56 American cents; small coins are also termed cents.

Straits Settlements paper money--one-dollar, five-dollar bills,

etc.--is the dirtiest met with. The color of the bills is dark green,

and they are so soiled that it is often difficult to see the

denomination on the face.

Hotel rates were higher here than we had been charged since leaving

Johannesburg. The cheapest accommodation in the city was $5 a day

($2.80 in American money). In Australasia hotel expenses did not

exceed $1.50 a day, and in India and Ceylon the same sum was not

exceeded. Singapore is what is termed a free port, which makes high

hotel rates even more difficult to understand. Articles generally were

more costly than in countries visited which levy a heavy import

tariff.

A winter tourist ship stopped here which had among its passengers a

greater number of Americans than of any other nationality. A dinner

was served at the best hotel in the city, and a goodly stock of wine

and liquors had been provided for the occasion. To the surprise of the

boniface, most of the passengers asked for ice water when eating. The

small sum the tourists spent for liquids caused a general laugh in

that city.

"Stengha," a word that sounds like "stinger," is spoken to a waiter

when ordering refreshments. Few persons living in the hot countries

drink water, so whisky and soda is very apt to be a "stengha."

Some sections of Singapore are well shaded, and the streets are good.

Recreation grounds are very good, and churches are seen at every turn.

In addition, there is an interesting museum, and a short distance from

the city is located an attractive botanical garden. Rickshas are

numerous, drawn by Chinese, and the fare is reasonable. No one walks

in Singapore. To offset the glare of the sun, some of the sidewalks

have been covered with red soil. A good street-car system has been

installed, and the place is lighted by electricity.

A load of live hogs, drawn by oxen yoked to a two-wheeled cart and

driven by a Chinaman, passed along a street. Each hog was encased in a

bamboo basket or barrel, with grass rope tied across the opening to

keep the porker from getting out of his "stall." There were ten hogs

to the load, stacked one on top of the other.

A large number of wealthy Chinese live in the Straits Settlements.

When traveling through the islands there may be seen, carved on the

posts of large entrance gates of the Mongols' homes, peacocks, lions,

birds, and fantastic, hideous-looking figures. These residents may be

seen any time of day or evening riding about the city and island in

modern and sumptuous motor-cars.

Some years ago a young American diplomat had been appointed consul at

Bangkok, Siam. A merchant of the Siamese capital owed an American a

large sum of money. Through the young consul the American sought to

recover the debt, whereupon the diplomat threatened the Siamese

merchant with the power of America. An American battleship later

anchored in Singapore harbor. Down from Siam came the young and ardent

consul, with but one aim in view--to persuade the captain of the

battleship to proceed to Bangkok with his vessel and scare the money

out of the debtor. The captain told the consul he had no objection to

doing so if he (the consul) would cable the War Department at

Washington, D. C., for instructions to that effect. A cable was sent

immediately, and a reply soon received, which read: "Explain why you

are absent from your post of duty." The consul walked floors, fearing

recall, and had to write several letters to the State Department

before he could entertain hope of retaining his post.

What looks like a round bolster is found at the foot of every bed.

This equipment is to put under the body, to allow air to pass between

the body and mattress, as the nights are very hot. In other ways the

bolster is used to protect the flesh. This article of utility is

called a "Dutch wife."

In the government printing office in Singapore were 150 printers, and

out of that number there was but one white man, the overseer. The

wages were $10 to $14 a month, which was $3 to $5 a month more than

was paid in India for similar work. There is much room for improvement

in the Singapore offices, although the hours worked are but seven a

day, the business hours of that city.

Every one has his "boy" servant in Singapore. While getting money at a

bank the clerk had a "boy" to blot any writing he (the clerk) did.

Unmarried men often eat their meals in their room, which are brought

from the kitchen by a "boy" servant. Many have a ricksha puller for

their own use. Single men often have as many as three servants.

Malaria and other tropical fevers impair the health of many settlers.

The heavy rainfall, hot sun, and low-lying land account for the

absence of fat men in that section of the world.

Every one wears white clothes and helmet. Starched or dress shirts are

little worn. A high collar is attached to the white jacket, and under

the jacket is generally worn a thin woolen undershirt.

As in India, one seldom sees a white child here. As soon as children

become able to run about they are sent to Europe to be educated and to

acquire a sound constitution. Nearly all the Europeans living in the

Straits Settlements and Federated States are Britishers.

A great many Chinese find employment in carrying small restaurants

about the city on split bamboo poles. They shout as they travel along,

and stop when a customer indicates that he wants to eat. Chopsticks

are used in lieu of knife and fork. "Makan" is the Malays' word for

food. The Malay language is spoken by all classes. The native is not

burdened with energy, the prosperous condition of that country having

been brought about mainly by Chinamen.

Singapore holds ninth place in the principal shipping ports of the

world, the harbor being crowded with large and small craft.

An effort was made to travel direct from Singapore to Manila, but,

after waiting two weeks for a ship going to the Philippines' capital,

the plan was abandoned. A start was then made for Hongkong on a German

ship. Like the Japanese vessel that had brought me to Singapore from

Colombo, the German ship was weighed down to the water-line with

cargo, every berth in the cabins being occupied. The distance from

Singapore to Hongkong is 1,440 miles, and the fare, second-class, was

$31.50.

Seeing a drawling American on this ship, a Britisher sized him up as

one who might be twitted. "What is your business, may I ask?" began

the Britisher. "Oh! I generally follow mining," drawled the "Yank."

"Is there much money in it?" asked the Britisher. "Oh, the usual thing

in mining--chicken one day and feathers the next," sluggishly answered

the American. "By the way," said the "Yank," perking up, "may I ask

what your business is?" "Oh, I'm a missionary," promptly answered John

Bull's subject. "Is there much money in it?" whipped back the

"Yankee."

For two days out from Singapore the German ship rode the seas as

smoothly as a motor-car running over a well-tarred road. Then the

weather grew stormy and the ocean rough. We had entered the China Sea.

The time of year was the day before Christmas, and a Christmas tree

had been erected in the dining saloon, ornamented with bright-colored

tinsel balls, chocolate bars wrapped in tinfoil, colored candy

hatchets, lions, dogs and dolls; sprigs of holly with red berries,

rosy red apples hanging from bending boughs, candy wrapped in

vari-colored and fringed papers, wax candles hanging from limbs, with

medicated cotton and white powder scattered over the pine tree to

indicate snow. The sea had become rougher, and the steady ship of a

few days earlier was now rolling and pitching her heavy tonnage

against powerful waves, the propellers often revolving in unwatered

space. Few had interest in the tree this Christmas Eve, as most of the

passengers had become seasick. As a result, and the storm not having

abated, only half a dozen of the big list of passengers ate turkey

with cranberry sauce, mince pie, raisins, and nuts that Christmas Day

while sailing over the China Sea. The day following the sea became

quieter, and an island came in view, then more islands. The sea having

calmed, passengers became numerous on deck. Buildings, on the side of

a high, green island, were now seen--we had reached the island of

Hongkong, China. As the vessel neared the harbor, the city, resting

comfortably at the base of the mountain and stretching along the

shore, was clearly outlined. Being our initial visit to a Chinese

city, Johnson's lines came to mind--

"Let observation, with extensive view,

Survey mankind from China to Peru."

Ho! There was an American flag flying from the mast of a ship at

anchor in the harbor--the fourth time the United States emblem was

seen waving from a ship's mast during a journey of over 60,000 miles,

most of which was by water. At Dunedin, N. Z., the first flag was seen

flying from a dilapidated schooner, and the other two from small

vessels at Apia, Samoa.

Hongkong is a horseless and oxless town. This island city is far up in

the list of ports--perhaps fourth--and it is difficult to believe that

the cargo of great vessels could be moved almost entirely by human aid

alone; yet such is the fact. There would seem to be no obstacles that

the Chinaman cannot surmount. On a split bamboo pole Chinamen have

been known to carry 500 pounds' weight. Generally, what one man cannot

carry two will; but any weight too much for two would be moved along

by four Chinese, two at each end of a bamboo pole. Heavy loads that

cannot be moved by poles are placed on to a two-wheeled hand truck.

India and Ceylon looked unprogressive with the two-wheeled ox carts,

but when one reaches an important seaport city and finds neither

mules, horses, oxen or donkeys to move heavy traffic, that feature

must be classed among the world's oddities.

The mountain behind the city rises to a height of nearly 2,000 feet.

Buildings have been built on the mountainside, and on the summit stand

the barracks, or fort, and the Governor-General's residence. Some of

these buildings, used for hospitals and other purposes, are big; yet

every brick, stone, pound of mortar, furniture--everything of which

the buildings and fort are made--had been carried up the roads and

footpaths cut in the sides of the mountain on the backs, shoulders,

or heads of Chinese, mostly women. A cable railway runs from nearly

the bottom to the top, but the company that built the line is

forbidden to carry other than passengers up the slope. That

restriction was placed on the company in order that the Chinese would

not be deprived of work necessitated by the demand for supplies and

provisions by those living in that section of Hongkong Island.

The city appears on maps as the City of Victoria, but Hongkong is the

only name one hears. The island comprises an area of 29 square miles,

and was ceded to Great Britain in 1843. But England has acquired an

additional area of 380 square miles on the mainland opposite. The city

has a population of 300,000, but half a million inhabitants reside on

the island. Of this number 6,000 are Europeans, the remainder largely

Chinese. The water channel separating Hongkong from the mainland is a

mile wide, and opposite the city is Kowloon, where large vessels put

in at wharves and from which place the railway starts for Canton.

Hongkong is reputed to have the most picturesque setting of any city

in the world, and the view seemed better than that offered by

Capetown, South Africa. A perpetually green mountain rises steeply

nearly 2,000 feet from the seashore, and the splendid roads and walks

cut in the sides might, seen from a distance, resemble the threads on

a mammoth screw. White brick buildings, covered with red-tile roofing,

rise from the verdured sides at frequent intervals. This

attractiveness continues to the summit, which is capped, as it were,

with the official residence and forts. From the summit the view seems

superior to that from below, as the ornamentation of the steep slope,

both by nature and man, with the city at the base, ships lolling at

anchor in the harbor and pretty islands dotting the haven from three

sides, all unite in maintaining the reputation the island bears.

A boycott was issued by the Chinese against the street railway system

of Hongkong. The trouble came about through the railway company

refusing to accept Canton money for fares on the cars, and the boycott

resulted. The cars ran back and forth without Chinese passengers

during the period of the strike.

Sedan chairs are the means of conveyance for people living on the

mountainside. The chair is box-shape with a seat, fastened to two long

bamboo poles. The passenger steps in, a Chinaman between the poles at

each end, and grunts are heard while raising the poles to their

shoulders. Off they start up the steep incline, no matter whether the

passenger be light or heavy, with as apparent ease as if a chicken

were inside the box. The charge for a long ride is 15 to 25 cents,

divided between the Chinamen. Rickshas are the conveyances used in the

city. A short ride costs three cents, and if hired by the hour the

charge is 15 cents. The rickshas in Hongkong, Colombo, and Singapore

are made to carry but one person, while the sulkies drawn by the Zulus

in Durban, South Africa, are built to hold two persons. Zulus go as

fast and as far with two fares as the pullers of other countries do

with one passenger. Both chair carriers and ricksha pullers are in

their bare feet.

Hongkong is very substantially built, and it is doubtful if there is a

frame house on the island. No one who has not seen that city would

expect to find the splendid business blocks that so creditably adorn

the place. Some of these are seven and eight stories high. Most of the

sidewalks are covered with cement roofing, giving the walks a

half-arcade appearance, which is done when erecting buildings, as the

sun is hot in summer.

Porcelain bath tubs and running hot water were found in Hongkong, the

first we noted since leaving South Africa. In British-East Africa,

Uganda, India, Ceylon, and Singapore round wooden tubs were in use,

and hot water was carried to the bath room by servants.

The water-front of Hongkong was crowded with crudely designed boats,

called sampans. The craft has a mast, and when in use sails--sometimes

made of reeds--are pulled to the breeze. The quaint craft has a cabin,

and large families are born and reared on board, it being their home.

A large oar at the stern, rolled from one side to the other when the

craft is moving, helps to advance the sampan and acts as a rudder

besides; it has two oars at the sides also. In most cases the craft is

manned by women and their children. Frequently a Chinese woman, who

looks like a hunchback, is seen pulling an oar. The apparent deformity

proves to be a delusion, however, as, when she has reached shore and

secured the sampan, she unwraps a cloth and a ruddy-faced baby rolls

into her arms. What would be a heavy burden to women of other races a

Chinese woman does not seem to mind.

The Hongkong policeman is unique. He wears a bright, yellow-colored

helmet, a jacket with brass buttons, knickerbockers, white leggings,

and the scow-shaped Chinese shoes. His bearing is decidedly military,

and he is unassuming when on duty. The Indian Sikh is also employed

for police duty, but is not so interesting as the native.

Daily English newspapers are published in Hongkong, and linotype

machines are in use in some offices. In one place a Chinese linotype

operator could not speak a word of English, yet he could read English

copy and set a clean proof. The wage paid was $15 a month. Europeans

were in charge of the printing departments, but the mechanics were

Chinese.

Mock Duck, Duck Mock, Fat Duck, Duck Fat, Wa Duck, Ho Duck were common

names observed on signs above the doors of business houses in

Hongkong.

Chinamen seem to be eating most of the time, the portable restaurant,

as in Singapore, being in use here. Their food appeared to be mostly

fish, vegetables, and what looked like spaghetti, and tea was drunk at

eating-time. As all eat with chopsticks, table cutlery is little in

demand among the natives. "Chou" is their name for food.

The dollar is the unit of money in Hongkong, but its value is much

lower than the Straits Settlements dollar, being that of the Mexican

dollar, which varies from 44 to 50 cents. Fractional coins are on the

cent basis, and are made of silver, nickel, and copper.

When visiting a bank in Hongkong, hundreds of natives were seen at the

rear, with a clerk shouting something in Chinese. Inquiry as to what

occasioned so large a number of visitors at the bank, brought forth

the information "They had just come from America and were having

checks cashed." Every nation takes money out of America, the feeding

ground of the world.

There is a large photograph gallery, or archive, in the American

consulate in Hongkong, which contains the portrait of every Chinaman

who has been to America and returned to China.

A good botanical garden is located just above the business center of

the city, and parks, good public buildings, a museum, libraries,

churches and schools, and other public features are well represented.

Mail from Europe will be longer traveling to Hongkong than to any

other port in the world, and vice versa. From centers north of

Hongkong mail is sent by way of Siberia, and the larger amount of mail

even from this city is, perhaps, carried over the Siberian railway.

Were one, however, to mail a letter in London, Paris, or Berlin to

Hongkong, by way of the Suez Canal--the main route from Europe to the

Far East--it would not reach the Chinese port earlier than six weeks'

time from date of mailing. From 40 days to six weeks is the regular

time required for passenger ships to travel from Europe to Hongkong.

Hotel expenses were cheaper than at Singapore, being only two dollars

a day.

CHAPTER II

A trip was made up the West River to Canton, a stretch of water in

which vessels are sometimes sacked by Chinese pirates. A half-dozen or

more of these daring Mongols will board a boat at the starting place

as passengers did, and when an opportunity offers they will overpower

the officers, when the ship will be at their mercy. Not long ago an

effective weapon called "stinkpot" was in use. These bad smelling

crocks were thrown about the decks of a boat, bursting, and the

nauseating odor from them would partly suffocate any who happened to

be near. The pirates well knew where to burst them to the best

advantage. To prevent successful piratical attacks to river craft,

English gunboats have been stationed at certain places of this large

river. Hongkong is the port for Canton and the great population in

Southern China, and no one who has not taken a sail up that river can

form a correct idea of the large number of people who crowd on the

boats, particularly in the third-class section.

When the boat reaches Canton, and before it is alongside the wharf,

Chinese, emerging from rowboats, will be seen scaling the sides of the

vessel from stem to stern with the agility of monkeys. In a very short

time they throw their legs across the deck rails, every one of them on

the alert to earn a few cents by carrying a valise, directing a

passenger to his ricksha or sedan chair, or presenting to the visitors

business cards of silk, damascene, ivory, or other merchants. Guides

are also much in evidence, and if there is any city in the world where

a guide is needed it is surely Canton, China.

Soon we are in a sedan chair--the only means, except afoot, of getting

about the city--with a Chinaman at each end, the poles resting on

their shoulders. The guide was in front, and in a short time we had

passed through an entrance in the city wall. All was different then,

and it is doubtful if a stranger could find his way out after having

gone not more than two city squares in Canton. The streets are from

three to fifteen feet wide, and boxes, tubs, tanks and pails, used by

storekeepers to show their goods, encroach even on this limited space.

Were one to go to a large ant-hill on a hot day, when the insects are

thick and moving about quickly, the mound would afford a fair

illustration of Canton within the walls. The city is one great human

ant-hill. We had been through the teeming streets of the native

quarters of some Indian cities, and concluded there could not be more

density of population anywhere, but that opinion soon changed after

stepping inside the walls of the metropolis of Southern China. Any one

who has visited Hongkong and thinks he has seen a typical Chinese city

would do well to pay a visit to Canton.

"Hey-ho, ho-hey, yay-he-ho, ho-ye-hay," sounds something like what a

Chinaman sings or chants to make known his coming in the human-packed

streets. Bear in mind, there is neither horse, ox, mule, nor ricksha

puller traversing the streets--only men and women, with loads carried

on split bamboo poles. They all have a song, grunt or yawn to give

warning of their coming. Some of the streets are so narrow that two

sedan chairs, carried in opposite directions, cannot pass. On such

occasions the carriers of one chair must stop until the others squeeze

their way between the wall of a store and the people, who are

constantly passing to and fro. It is natural, when carrying burdens on

poles, to have poles resting on both shoulders, but the crowded

streets here will not permit of that. The load has to be carried on

one shoulder, the pole pointing in front. While the narrow streets and

teeming crowds make it much harder for men to bear loads in that

manner, how much more inconvenient it must be for a woman carrying the

same weight, with a baby tied to her back! There appeared to be as

many women as men with the weight-carrying poles over their shoulders,

and with both sexes coolie custom seemed to forbid walking, as all

moved at a trot when space permitted.

Roasted pork, dried fish, and dried fowl were much in evidence in the

shops; and for long distances wooden tubs containing water and live

fish line a street. Butcher shops and vegetable stores are also seen

at every turn. Garbage from each store or dwelling is placed in the

street, and this is often kicked about before the garbage man takes it

away. Hydrants are numerous, and lines of people wait their turn to

get water. Wide boards, on which are written Chinese characters, often

meet from each side, and a reed covering placed above, and extending

across the street, drawn by ropes, shades people from the sun. Between

the grunts, yawns, and songs of the laborers, together with the

general conversation and the shouts from others at intruders on the

dried fish and fowl, it is dampness, noise, stench and jam from the

time one enters until he emerges outside the wall. In this large city

there is no sewerage.

The street paving is composed of stones from two to three feet wide,

and in length the width of the street. As there are neither horses nor

wagons used in the city, most of the people in their bare feet, and,

as the sandals worn by others have soft soles, the pavement lasts a

long time, although some of the thick stones show signs of wear from

the millions of feet passing over them. Between the broad signs, other

signs printed on wide strips of canvas, together with the curtains

that cover the thoroughfares above the cramped space, the streets of

Canton resemble tunnels more than anything else.

The City of the Dead, a burying place in Canton, differed from any

before seen. The coffins are logs, hewed out for a body, are of

cylindrical shape, with four corners, and appear as if four pieces of

lumber had been sealed together. The top quarter-piece is loose and

serves as the lid. Some of these odd-appearing coffins are expensive,

as they are heavily inlaid with mother-of-pearl and gold leaf. The

first resting-place consists of two rooms, and these are separated by

a matting curtain. In the second, or inside, chamber the coffin rests

on two supports as large as a washtub. In the outer, or reception

chamber, stands a table with flowers, an incense-stick pot, and a

glass containing oil, with a wick. The incense-stick was burning and

the wick was casting a dim flame. Every morning and afternoon a fresh

cup of tea is placed on the stand, together with fruit and fresh

flowers. The light was kept burning so the spirit of the dead could

find its way about, and, if it felt like eating, the food was ready.

The corpse rests in that place for six months, when the remains are

removed to a permanent burial ground and put under the earth. The

temporary--or six months'--resting place rents for $10 a month, or $60

for the time allowed. Formerly the corpse remained in these

lying-in-state, or ancestral halls, for years, but that has been

changed to a six months' period. Only well-to-do Chinese are so laid

to rest.

The wall encircling Canton is six miles round, but the city has

outgrown the old lines. At one place, just inside the wall, is the old

execution ground, where offenders against the law were beheaded, but

it is now used as a pottery.

A hundred and twenty-four temples of the Confucius and Buddhist faiths

were found here, but, when visiting some of these, the growing grass,

dilapidated walks, dusty images, and general lack of care in evidence

at every turn suggested that the Chinaman has broken loose from old

religious moorings. In the Geneii Temple were 500 figures on one side

of the building, badly in need of dusting. A very good pagoda, five

stories high, is a feature of Canton. All the pagodas of China are of

odd stories--three, five or seven.

The various manufacturing industries of the city are situated in one

quarter. A big business is done in jadestone, mostly made into rings,

and used as bracelets; but the stone is used also for other ornaments.

The jadestone industry is situated in a certain district; furniture

manufacturing is also centralized; the mother-of-pearl workers are

located in still another section; this applies also to the ivory,

damascene, jewelry, and tinware industries. Little or no machinery is

used, most of the work being done by hand.

The city seemed to be free of loafers, everybody doing something.

Talking with a Chinese acquaintance on this point, he stated that the

only men out of work were gamblers, whose "occupation" had been taken

from them by official decree. They had never learned to do anything

else. The opium houses had also been closed. Not a queue was seen

hanging down the back of the males one met, the cutting off of the

pigtails being in compliance with a government edict. The hair from

the queues was shipped to other countries.

"Sweating money" is a custom said to be much practiced in China. Gold

coins are placed in a sheet or cloth, which is then vigorously shaken.

The coins, clashing against each other, wear off the milling, which

remains in the sheet. When the coins are "sweated" to the satisfaction

of the "sweaters" the cloth is put in a kettle or retort, when the

gold dust, or milling, remains at the bottom. It is owing to this

"sweating" process that, when gold is required in transactions of

fifty dollars and much greater sums, bankers often determine the value

of the metal by weighing it rather than by accepting the coins at

their face value.

Concerning the population of Canton, there seemed to be no official

figures. Some give the number at a million, others at two millions,

and even three millions of people are said to be residents of the

metropolis of Southern China. Statements of the Pearl River

population, however, seem to be authentic. Just think of half a

million people living on the water! The river is partly blocked with

native craft--sampans--and these are the homes of people numbering as

many as comprise the city of Baltimore, Md. Each owner of a sampan

pays a small license fee to the city; but they have no water rent to

pay or house rent bills. The sampan is the home of a great many

Chinese from birth until they die, generally at a ripe old age. The

Pearl River is called the West River at Hongkong.

Missionaries living in the interior have enough bread baked at one

baking to last them a month. The bread is sliced, then toasted, and

taken to the mission. Toasting the bread keeps it from getting mouldy.

An island, separated by a fork of the Pearl River, is known as the

Shameen, and here the few Europeans of Canton reside. The Shameen has

been leased from China by both France and England for a term of 99

years. The area of the concession is but 69 acres, and 300 Europeans

make their home in that pretty place. The consulates of other European

countries also are located on the island, and the only European hotel

in Canton is among the few modern buildings seen in the old Chinese

city. Two bridges span the branch of water that forms the island on

the city side, and high, strong gates are located at each end of these

bridges. The approaches to the Shameen are guarded by policemen day

and night, and Chinese not employed by residents of that district, or

who have no business to attend to on the island, are not allowed to

cross the bridges. The gates are opened at 6 o'clock in the morning,

and are closed at 9 o'clock in the evening. Native servants or

employees having occasion to go out after dark must carry a light, and

among these one sees some odd designs. A small lantern but little

larger than a goose egg will be carried by one Chinaman, another will

be seen with a light burning in what looks like a soup bowl, the

regular European lantern will be carried by another, and the square,

colored-paper Chinese lantern will be lighting the way of still

another native. A Chinaman has no right to live in the Shameen; those

who do live on the island are there by sufferance of the two powers

who leased the land.

The homes and business buildings of Canton do not exceed three

stories, most of them but one or two stories in height. The doors are

heavy, and iron bars protect some of the windows. Brick, stone, and

mortar are the material used in construction, with black tiling for

roofs. A marked air of privacy pervades the exterior of Chinese homes.

Stones, pear-shaped, are used as seats by the Chinese. These may be

seen in tea gardens and places of quiet recreation. This custom of

using stones as seats is because they are cooler than any other

material. Occupants sit astride the stones.

Canton, the capital of the Province of Kwangtung, is styled the "City

of Rams" from the legend of the five immortals who rode into the city

on the backs of five rams during the Chow dynasty, which ruled from

1112-255 B. C. The metropolis was made a treaty port in 1842.

[Illustration: SMALL COLONY OF HALF A MILLION SAMPAN DWELLERS OF

PEARL RIVER; THESE WATER HOMES SAVE HOUSE RENT. CANTON, CHINA.]

Two kinds of dollars are in use--the Hongkong and the Kwangtung--the

former in the Shameen and the latter in the city and province. The

Hongkong dollar is worth more than the Kwangtung, as the former is

backed by England and the other by the present unsettled China. The

cheapest hotel rate was $4 a day, and only Hongkong money was accepted

in payment.