CHAPTER I.

LAHORE.

~Departure from Delhi.~

In the end of December, 1831, I had the honour to obtain the final

sanction of the Governor-general of India to proceed to Central Asia.

I received my passports from his lordship at Delhi on the 23d of that

month, and proceeded by express to Lodiana on the frontiers, where

I had the pleasure of meeting my fellow-traveller Mr. James Gerard,

of the Bengal army. We here experienced many acts of kindness and

assistance from Capt. C. M. Wade, the political agent, whose good

offices I have to acknowledge with gratitude. The society of this, the

most remote station of British India, also evinced an interest in our

welfare which was truly gratifying. We took leave of it at a convivial

party given for the occasion on the 2d of January, and on the following

day bade a long farewell to such scenes, and plunged into the solitude

of an Indian desert. We took the route that leads along the left bank

of the Sutlege, till that river is joined by the Beas or Hyphasis.

~Communication from Runjeet Sing.~

Before crossing the boundaries of India it was both prudent and

necessary to receive the permission of Maharaja Runjeet Sing, the ruler

of the Punjab. It was suggested to me that a private application was

in every respect preferable to an official letter from government,

since the most favourable reception which I had already experienced

from his highness left no doubt of his ready compliance. I consequently

addressed his highness, and solicited the indulgence of again entering

his territories. I gave him a brief outline of the objects which I had

in view, and congratulated myself on having to traverse at the outset

the territories of so friendly an ally. In the true style of oriental

hyperbole, I assured his highness that “when I had again the pleasure

of seeing him it would add to my happiness, because it would afford me

an opportunity of renewing my terms of friendship with a prince whose

exalted virtues filled me with recollections of perpetual delight!” In

the course of three days we were joined by a small escort of cavalry

sent to welcome us, and their commandant brought a most friendly reply

from the Maharaja, expressive of his pleasure at our approach. It was

also intimated to us that we should receive presents of money and

gifts as we advanced; but, as it would better suit our character to

pass without these attentions, I civilly declined them. Reports would

precede us, and doubtless in an exaggerated enough shape, which made

it desirable to shun all pomp and show, and the more so since we had

really no right to them.

~Hemilaya.~

As we descended the banks of the Sutlege, we gradually lost sight

of the Hemilaya mountains. For the first twenty miles they could be

seen in great grandeur, clothed in snow from base to summit, without

an inferior ridge to hide their majesty. They were about 150 miles

distant, and not so peaked in their outline as the same range of

mountains to the eastward. The hoary aspect of this stupendous chain

formed a striking contrast with the pleasing verdure of the plains of

the Punjab. In the morning these, indeed, were covered with hoar frost,

but it disappeared under the first rays of the sun, and left, in this

alternation of heat and cold, a hard green sward, which is not often

seen in tropical countries.

~Villages on the Sutlege.~

~People.~

On the banks of the river we passed innumerable villages, the houses of

which were terrace-roofed, and formed of sun-dried brick on a wooden

frame-work. They had a clean and comfortable look, and the peasantry

appeared well clad and happy. They consist of Juts, both Hindoo and

Mahommedan, and a few Seiks. All the Mahommedans have been converted

from Hindooism; and it is a curious fact, that the Moslems predominate

on the southern bank, where, from the vicinity to the Hindoo world,

one would have expected to find those of that persuasion. In the upper

parts of the Sutlege, near Lodiana, the inhabitants are exclusively

agricultural; but, after that river has been joined by the Beas or

Hyphasis, the habits of the people are predatory. There they are known

under the various denominations of Dogur, Julmairee, Salairee, &c. and

by the general designation of Raat, and live in a perpetual state of

opposition to one another. In the cultivated parts this country has the

appearance of an extensive meadow. It is entirely free from underwood,

and some of the wheat fields extend for miles without a hedge. The

grain is raised without irrigation, though the water is but twenty-six

feet from the surface. There are no trees except in the vicinity of

the villages; and such is the scarcity of fuel, that cow dung is

universally used in its stead. This is dried and stacked. The fire

formed of it throws out a most powerful heat, which leaves the people

no cause to regret the want of other fuel. The country below that

stripe which fringes the river is known by the name of Malwa. It has a

dry climate and soil, and produces gram and barley, with bajree[3] and

mut, which are exported to the Punjab.

~Banks of the Sutlege.~

~Physical phenomena of rivers.~

After a journey of fifty miles from Lodiana, we encamped at Huree, on

the banks of the Hyphasis, below the confluence of that river and the

Sutlege. In all our maps this junction takes place some fifty miles

lower down, which appears to have been only correct at a remote period.

These united rivers form a beautiful stream, which is never fordable;

and, at this season, was 275 yards wide. The actual channel exceeded a

mile and a half; and the high bank lay on the northern shore; the water

was running at the rate of two miles and a quarter an hour, and was at

this season perfectly clear, and free from the foul, muddy appearance

of a river that is swollen by the water of the mountains. The depth

did not exceed twelve feet since the river had retired to its summer

bed, and the melting snow had ceased to feed it. Both rivers stood at

a temperature of 57°, which was 6° below that of the atmosphere. The

people informed us, that about fifty years ago the Sutlege had been

hemmed in among the mountains, by a hill falling in upon its bed. After

an obstruction for some weeks, it vomited forth its imprisoned stream

with great destruction. A similar case occurred about eight years ago,

in the Ravee or river of Lahore. It did little injury, and the terror

of the inhabitants was excited only by the black earthy colour of the

water which forced itself over the obstructing mound. The Sutlege has

altered its course at no distant period, and swept away some of the

villages on its banks. These are of a clayey, crumbling nature, easily

undermined by the current. Near the existing point of union between

the rivers, we passed the dry bed of the old Sutlege, which is said to

have once joined the Hyphasis at Feerozpoor. The space between this and

the present channel, from twelve to fifteen miles across, is entirely

destitute of trees, and covered by a rich mould, the deposit of the

river.

~Altars of Alexander.~

In a country subject to such changes, how are we to look for an

identity between the topography of modern and ancient days? Yet we were

now in the vicinity of the altars of Alexander; and if we sought for

these ancient relics of the “Macedonian madman” without success, we

sought not without industry and enthusiasm. When the army of Alexander

mutinied on the banks of the Hyphasis, he crossed that river, and

raised twelve colossal altars, to indicate the limit and glory of

his expedition. Major Rennell has placed the site of these monuments

between the Beas and Sutlege; but that eminent geographer is not here

supported by the text of Alexander’s historians. They do not even

mention the Sutlege; and their allusions to a desert that lay beyond

the Hyphasis can only be identified with the country beyond that river,

and below its junction with the Sutlege, where that desert is still to

be found. Nor is it probable that Alexander would erect the trophies

of his conquest, where a small and fordable river yet separated

him from India. We wandered about for a few days, and extended our

researches on every side. We crossed the Sutlege, and found, at the

point of its junction with the Beas, a brick ruin, of small dimensions,

called Andreesa, which sounded like Greek, but the building was of

a Mahommedan age. We then embarked on the Hyphasis, and passed the

confluence of the two streams, where the waters meet each other gently,

and glide smoothly along. Both rivers have an equal breadth of 200

yards, but the Sutlege discharges a greater volume of water. It was

with faint hopes of success that we prosecuted our enquiries after

these remnants of antiquity, since the inhabitants did not remember to

have even seen an European. It is an approximation, nevertheless, to

discovery, to ascertain where these altars are not; and if any traces

of them be hereafter found, they probably lie lower down, and on the

left bank of the united stream of the Beas and Sutlege, there called

the Garra. I should here mention that, on our way from Lodiana, and

about twenty miles from that cantonment, we heard of the ruins of

Tiharu, on the southern bank of the Sutlege, which had been washed into

the river within the last thirty years. Kiln-burnt bricks of large

dimensions and peculiar shape are yet found on this site, which may

have been an ancient ruin. If the altars stood here, my surmises are

erroneous.

~Enter the Punjab.~

~Our welcome chanted.~

On the 11th we crossed by the ferry boats at Huree Ka Puttun,

and landed in the Punjab at the village of that name. There are

twenty-three boats at this ferry; and it is protected by a party of 400

horse, whom the ruler of the Punjab has stationed here to prevent the

fanatics of the Seik creed from passing into the British territories.

As we entered the village, we were met by a crowd of females and

children, who approached to chant our welcome. They are the poorer

peasantry, and, of course, actuated by the hope of reward; but the

custom has something pleasing in it. The boys of the village had also

assembled to gratify their curiosity; while we approached, they were

silent, and looked with attention: when we had passed, all was bustle

and uproar, running and falling, jumping and laughing, till the head

man and his troopers called the urchins to order.

~Civilities at Hurree.~

~Seik fanatics.~

We had no sooner set foot on the Punjab than a sirdar, or chief, of

the name of Sham Sing, appeared by order of his master. He presented

me with a bow, according to the custom of the Seiks, and two bags

of money; which latter I declined, being amply satisfied at the

readiness with which we had received permission to enter the country.

I wished also to dispense with this personage and his cavalcade; but

it was impossible, since he had been deputed from Lahore to escort

us, and the road was described as not altogether safe for a small

party. It was well we did not separate ourselves from the chief, as

we afterwards passed a village on fire, and in possession of the Seik

fanatics, to whom I have before alluded. We met a body of 500 horse,

with two field-pieces, proceeding to chastise these “wrong-headed and

short-sighted” men, as they are styled in the language of the Punjab

cabinet.

~Manja, country so called.~

~Ancient canals.~

On the following morning we commenced our march across the “Doab[4],”

between the Beas and Ravee (Hydraotes), which has the name of Manja.

It is the highest portion of the Punjab east of the Hydaspes; a fact

which is established by the eastern bank of the one river as well as

the western one of the other being both elevated. The left bank of

the Ravee is about forty feet high, and so is the right bank of the

Beas. The wells are also much deeper than south of the Sutlege; here

they exceed sixty feet, there they are not twenty-six. The soil is

a hard, indurated clay, sometimes gravelly, producing thorny shrubs

and brambles, called by the natives jund, khureel[5], and babool.[6]

Cultivation depends upon the rain, and irrigation is by no means

general. Herds of neelgaee roam over it. In former years the Mogul

emperors, seeing the comparative sterility of this tract, fertilised it

by canals from the Ravee, which connected that river with the Beas. The

remains of one of them may be yet traced at the town of Puttee, running

down at right angles upon the Beas, though it has been choked up for

the last 150 years. The district of Manja is celebrated for the bravery

of its soldiers, and the breed of its horses, which would always

entitle it to the patronage of a sovereign.

~Town of Puttee.~

The first town we entered was Puttee, which contains about 5000 people,

and, with the adjoining town of Sooltanpoor, was built in the reign of

Akbar. The houses are constructed of bricks, and the streets are even

laid with them. Some workmen, digging a well in this neighbourhood,

lately hit upon a former well, on which was a Hindoo inscription. It

set forth that it had been built by one Agurtuta, of whom tradition

gives no account. The district of Puttee held, at one time, a

supremacy over 1360 villages, and yielded a revenue of nine lacks of

rupees, when fertilised by its canal.

~Stud of horses at Puttee.~

At Puttee we visited one of the royal studs of Runjeet Sing. We found

about sixty brood mares, chiefly of the Dunnee breed, from beyond

the Hydaspes, where the country is of the same description as Manja,

dry and elevated. May not this aridity, as resembling the soil of

Arabia, where the horse attains such perfection, have something to

do with its excellence? These animals are exclusively fed on barley,

and a kind of creeping grass called “_doob_,” which is considered

most nutritive. The horses at this stud were lately attacked with an

epidemic disease, of which a Mahommedan, who resides in a neighbouring

sanctuary, is believed to have cured them. Though a Mahommedan, the

Seiks have in gratitude repaired and beautified his temple, which is

now a conspicuous white building, that glitters in the sun. The Seik

people are most tolerant in their religion; and I have remarked in

India generally much more of this virtue than the people receive credit

for. It may be superstition which excites this general respect of all

religions, but, be the feeling grounded on what it may, it is a sound

and wholesome one. The Mahommedans have, no doubt, been overbearing in

their conquests (and what conquerors have not been overbearing); but,

as they settled among the people, their prejudices disappeared, to the

mutual benefit of themselves and their subjects.

~An Acali or fanatic.~

On the 13th we received a message from the Acali who had set fire to

the village a few days previous, and whose acts of fanaticism had

called for the interference of the court. This outlaw, by name Nehna

Sing, wished to visit us, and I felt equal anxiety to hear from so

notorious a character some history of himself and his adventures. These

fanatics of the Seik creed acknowledge no superior, and the ruler of

the country can only moderate their frenzy by intrigues and bribery.

They go about every where with naked swords, and lavish their abuse

without ceremony on the nobles, as well as the peaceable subjects; nor

are they always so harmless, since they have, on several occasions,

even attempted the life of Runjeet Sing. An interview with such a

person excited considerable anxiety on the part of our conductors, who

strongly dissuaded me from it, and, at length, completely frustrated

our wishes by informing the Acali that he must come unattended. This

he declined, and we were obliged to forego the pleasure of seeing a

man who had dared Runjeet Sing himself, within a few miles of his

capital. We were obliged to rest satisfied with a hearsay account of

this Seik bigot, nor could I discover any difference in the shades of

fanaticism here and in other countries. These Acalis or Nihungs are

not numerous, but commit the grossest outrages, and shield themselves

under their religious character. They evince no greater hostility to

those of another creed than to a Seik, and would appear to be at war

with mankind. Their fanaticism borders on insanity. The creed of the

Seiks is well known: it has been ably described by Sir John Malcolm.

Like their neighbours, the Mahommedans, they have forgotten much of

its primitive form, and found their distinction from other sects on a

few ritual observances. A Seik will tell you that tobacco is the most

debasing of stimulants, since the founder of their sect, Gooroo Govind

Sing, proved it by exhibiting the contamination in the interior of a

tobacco pipe, as a type of its corruption in the human body! A Seik

once told me that tobacco and flies were the greatest of ills in this

degenerate age.

~A Seik chief and his castle.~

About half way across the “Doab” we reached Pidana, the seat of one

of the principal chiefs of the Punjab, Sirdar Juwala Sing, who had

been sent from Lahore to entertain us at his family mansion. He met

us about a mile out, and delivered a letter with a bow and a bag of

money. The chief had robed himself in a rich dress of brocade, and his

retainers were arrayed in tunics of yellow, which is the favourite

colour of the Seiks. Juwala Sing has the reputation of a brave soldier,

and possesses a suavity of manner and address which appear to great

advantage in a fine soldier-looking person about six feet high. It was

twilight as he led us through his fort and under his baronial castle

to our camp, which gave a favourable idea of the residence of a Seik

chief. The castle stood in the centre, surrounded by a village, peopled

by his retainers, the whole being enclosed by a mud wall and outer

ditch. Within this space is to be found a bazar, extensive stables,

and, in the present instance, these were built on a plan of great

regularity. In the tranquillity which has followed the conquest of this

country, most of the chiefs have turned their minds to improving their

places of residence; and their habitations have at a distance a most

imposing and respectable appearance, though inferior to the fortified

dwellings of the Rajpoot chiefs in Marwar. They are always built in a

military style, of a quadrangular shape, with lofty walls and turrets.

Our worthy host made us such welcome guests, that we remained with

him for two days. From the top of his castle we had a commanding view

of the surrounding country, which is very rich, from its vicinity to

the two capitals of the country, Lahore and Umritsir; yet the soil is

unproductive.

~Famous road of Juhangeer.~

In our progress to Lahore, we entered the great road of Juhangeer,

which was once shaded with trees, and studded with minarets and

caravanserais. It conducted the traveller

“From Agra to Lahore of Great Mogul,”

and has been celebrated in Lalla Rookh, in the royal procession to

Cashmeer. In the lapse of time the trees have disappeared; but many

minarets and superb caravanserais yet mark the munificence of the Mogul

emperors. The road itself is yet a broad and beaten way; nor was it

possible to tread upon it without participating in the excitement which

the author of Lalla Rookh has raised, and I may almost say gratified.

~Enter Lahore.~

On the morning of the 17th we entered the imperial city of Lahore,

which has once rivalled Delhi. We wound among its ruins; and, when

yet three miles distant, were met by Monsieur Allard, and two natives

of rank sent to welcome us. The Chevalier came in his carriage drawn

by four mules, into which the Dr. and myself stepped, and drove to

his hospitable mansion, where we alighted and took up our quarters.

After the ceremony of receiving various friendly and formal messages

from Runjeet, the native part of the deputation withdrew, leaving a

profusion of the fruits of Cashmeer and Cabool as an earnest of the

condescension of their master. In the evening, a purse of 1100 rupees

was sent to us by the Maharaja; nor was it possible to refuse the money

without giving offence.

~Visit the Maharaja.~

We next morning paid our respects to the Maharaja, who received us

with marked affability in a garden about two miles from the city. We

found him in great spirits, and continued with him for about two hours.

His conversation ranged from points of the utmost importance to mere

trifles: he expressed much satisfaction at an interview which he had

lately had, for the first time, with the Governor-general; and said,

that he might now reduce the pay of his troops, after having seen so

efficient an army as the Indian with so little pay. His highness was

much interested in shell practice; and conducted us to the front of

his garden, to show the success which had attended his exertions. They

are unacquainted with the mode of fusing iron in this country, and the

shells are constructed of brass. Monsieur Court, one of his French

officers, exhibited these to him on the day of our arrival, and was

presented with a purse of 5000 rupees, jewels, and other gifts. Runjeet

made the most particular enquiries regarding our journey; and, since it

was no part of my object to develope the entire plans we had in view,

we informed his highness that we were proceeding _towards_ our native

country. He requested me to take a complimentary letter to the King of

England; which I declined, on the excuse of its endangering my safety

in the intermediate territories. I then presented a handsome brace of

pistols, that drew forth his Highness’s commendation, and which he said

he would keep for my sake. The Dr. produced a spy-glass as the token of

his homage. Runjeet received us, surrounded by troops: four regiments

of infantry could be seen at parade from his audience tent. We passed

through a street formed by his infantry and cavalry, and were honoured

by a salute. On taking leave, he requested that we would continue as

long as possible at his court, since he wished to show us some tiger

hunting, and give an entertainment in his palace,--honours which we

duly appreciated. We meanwhile returned to enjoy the friendly society

of M. Allard and his brother officers. I shall make no further mention

of Lahore, since it is described in my first visit to the court, and

was now no longer a scene of curious novelty.

~Earthquake at Lahore.~

Near midnight on the 22d, we were much alarmed by an earthquake,

which continued for about ten seconds with great violence. The house

in which we were lodged, though a substantial dwelling of brick and

mortar, shook with great violence. The atmosphere had indicated nothing

unusual; the barometer underwent no variation either before or after

it; and the thermometer stood so low as 37°, and fell four degrees

under the freezing point before sun-rise. In July last, it had risen

to 102°. I was informed that earthquakes are of frequent occurrence at

Lahore, particularly during winter. In Cashmeer they are still more

common; and appear to be more usual on approaching the mountains. The

lofty minarets of Lahore afford the most convincing proof that there

can have been no very violent commotion of nature since they were

built,--nearly two hundred years ago. The shock on the present occasion

appeared to run from south-east to north-west; and it was singular to

discover, after crossing Hindoo Koosh, that this was also the exact

direction of its course. In the valley of Badukhshan, and the whole

upper course of the Oxus, the greater portion of the villages had been

overthrown, which had buried some thousands of people in their ruins.

The shock had occurred there at the same time, and, as far as I could

judge, at the same hour, since they mentioned the midnight horrors of

the sad event.

~Join Runjeet Sing in the field.~

~Description of his camp.~

A week after our arrival we received the promised invitation to join

his Highness in the sports of the field. He himself had quitted the

capital, and sent a friendly letter, along with four elephants to

convey us and our baggage. We immediately mounted, and took the route

by the banks of the Ravee, in which direction the court had proceeded.

On our way, we passed an hour in the celebrated garden of “Shalimar,”

which was now more beautiful than ever. Though it was winter, the trees

were loaded with oranges. We halted for the night, near the village

of Lakodur, famous in history as the spot at which Nadir Shah crossed

the river and captured Lahore. The stream has forsaken its former

channel, which is now dry and cultivated. The hordes of the destroying

Nadir have been in like manner long withdrawn, and given place to the

industrious and reformed inhabitants of this country. On the following

morning we entered the royal camp, which was about twenty miles from

the city. On the road we passed crowds of soldiers, porters and

messengers bearing fruits and rarities. Since leaving Lahore, it was

evident that we were approaching a hive of men. About a mile distant

we were welcomed by a Rajah and his train, who met us on elephants,

and conducted us to the camp, pitched close on the banks of the river.

The scene, as we approached, was magnificent. A large pavilion of red

cloth, surrounded by extensive walls of the same materials, marked the

encampment of Runjeet, while his troops and chiefs were cantoned in

picturesque groups around. The suite of tents which had been pitched

for our accommodation was most elegant. They were made of scarlet and

yellow cloth, and the ground was covered with the carpets of Cashmeer,

and pieces of French satin. It was with some reluctance that I set

foot upon such valuable materials. In each tent was a camp bed, with

curtains of yellow silk, and coverlets of the same description. Such

costly splendour was ill suited to men who had so little prospect even

of comfort; but I must say that it was exhilarating at the moment. One

of the officers of the court welcomed us in the name of his Highness;

and in the evening we were joined by Captain Wade and Dr. Murray, who

had been sent on a political mission to the court of Lahore.

~Runjeet Sing marching.~

On the morning of the 27th, we marched with the Maharaja; and

fording the Ravee, proceeded inland. The order of the march was very

picturesque, and the retinue in every respect that of a _soldier_ king.

His horses were led in front of him, but the journey was performed on

elephants. Two of these stupendous animals bore _houdas_ of gold, in

one of which his Highness sat. Six or seven others followed with his

courtiers and favourites. A small body of cavalry, and a field piece,

formed his escort; and the carriage, which he had received from the

Governor-general, drawn by four horses, completed the procession.

~Conversations of Runjeet Sing.~

Runjeet was very talkative during the march, and detained us in

conversation for about an hour after it had terminated. He spoke of

the good fortune of Ameer Khan, in receiving so large a grant of land

from the Indian Government without military service; and commented

on his rise from so low an origin, to such an elevation. He need

not have gone farther than himself for a remarkable instance of the

caprice of fortune. Runjeet said that a disciplined army did not suit

the manners of an Eastern prince, for it could not be regularly paid,

and complained, consequently, of its duties: he wished to know if our

troops ever clamoured for pay, and expressed some surprise to learn

that such behaviour was viewed as mutinous. A conversation could not,

of course, conclude without his favourite topic of wine; and, as he

first sat down, he remarked that the site of his tent was an agreeable

one for a drinking party, since it commanded a fine view of the

surrounding country. He enquired of the doctors, whether wine was best

before or after food; and laughed heartily at an answer from myself,

when I recommended both. During this conversation, a peasant rushed

in upon our party, calling loudly for justice: he was stopped by the

guards, and gagged; but Runjeet called out in a stern voice,--“Strike

him not!” An officer of high rank was sent to hear his complaint; but

I fear that, if received opinions be true, justice is here an equally

expensive article as in other Asiatic governments.

~Superb Cashmeer tents.~

On taking leave of his Highness, we proceeded to our tents, which

were a distinct suite from that we had yesterday occupied. They were

made of Cashmeer shawls, and about fourteen feet square. Two of these

were connected by tent walls of the same superb materials; while the

intervening space was shaded by a lofty screen, supported on four

massy poles, adorned with silver. The shawls of one tent were red; of

the other, white. In each of them stood a camp bed, with curtains of

Cashmeer shawls, which gave one an impression of a fairy abode more

than an encampment in the jungles of the Punjab.

~A visit from the physician-general.~

Among our visiters in the camp, I must not omit to mention the

sage Uzeezodeen, the physician and secretary of Runjeet Sing, who,

according to Eastern notions, is a very learned person, deeply versed

in theology, metaphysics, and physics, which he professes to have

acquired from the Greek authors. He displayed his acquirements in

many long discourses, from which I have extracted the following, as a

specimen of what sometimes passes for wisdom in the East. The world

possesses three different atoms, all excellent, and all of which

enter into the ‘noblest work of God,’ man.--Neither the gem nor the

precious metals can multiply or increase their size or number; in

their beauty we find their excellence. In the vegetable kingdom, we

see the trees and plants, sucking moisture from the earth and moulding

it to their nature, increase in size and glory. In the animal kingdom,

we see the beasts of the field cropping those plants which afford

them nourishment, and avoiding these which are noxious. We see them

propagating the species without the institutions of society. In man

alone have we every excellence: he possesses the beauty and ornament

of the gem; understands and wields the properties of the vegetable

kingdom; and, to the instinct of the animal creation, he adds reason

and looks to futurity. As the learned physician said, “he chooses his

wife considerately, nor herds in flocks like the other animals of the

creation.”

~Runjeet Sing sporting.~

But we had come to hunt, not to philosophise; and next day accompanied

the Maharaja on a sporting expedition at noon. He rode a favourite

bay horse, covered with an elegant saddle-cloth of the richest

embroidery, ornamented, in its border, by almost every beast and bird

which the sportsman calls his own. Runjeet was dressed in a tunic of

green shawls, lined with fur; his dagger was studded with the richest

brilliants; and a light metal shield, the gift of the ex-King of

Cabool, completed his equipment. A train of elephants followed him; and

a pack of dogs, of motley breed, natives of Sinde, Bokhara, Iran, and

his own dominions, led the van. His falconers supported their noble

birds on their fists. They fluttered at his side, and shook the bells

suspended from their feet. A company of infantry in extended order,

with two or three hundred horsemen, swept the ground; and we followed

the foresters with their rude halberds, who soon disturbed the game.

We were to encounter hogs instead of tigers. The swords of the Seiks

glittered in the sun; and in the course of half an hour eight monsters

had bitten the dust, and many more were entrapped by snares. Most of

the animals had been slain by the horsemen with their swords; a few

had been first wounded by the matchlock. The sport might not be duly

appreciated by a European sportsman, since the hogs had but a small

chance of escape; yet I am sure the excitement of the field was great.

The scene took place in a plain covered with high grass, in the open

patches of which we could see from our elephants the brilliant display

with great advantage. The bright coloured dresses of the courtiers

had a striking effect. Runjeet himself viewed each hog as it fell,

and keenly turned to the scenes of passing slaughter; in the course

of an hour and a half we returned to our tents, and saw each of the

successful sportsmen rewarded. The live hogs were then brought, tied

by one leg to a stake, and baited with dogs. The sport is a cruel one,

and does not afford any great amusement; the courage and fire of the

animals are renewed by dashing water over them. After witnessing it for

a short time, an order was given to set all the live hogs at liberty,

as Runjeet said that they might praise his humanity; and the infuriated

animals scampered through the crowded encampment, to the great delight

of the assembled multitude.

~Conversations of Runjeet Sing.~

After the bustle had passed, we continued for some time with the

Maharaja, who gave us an animated account of his exploits beyond the

Indus. He described the bravery of a Nihung, or Seik fanatic, who had

perished on that occasion. He had fought on foot and received a wound,

which he dressed, and returned to the field on horseback. He received a

second wound; but, not discomfited, seated himself on an elephant; and

was at last shot through the lungs. “He was a brave man,” continued he,

“but a great villain; and had he not fallen on that day, I must have

imprisoned him for life: he wished to cross the frontier and set fire

to some of the British cantonments.” The particular battle to which his

Highness now alluded was fought at Noushero, near Peshawur, and was

the most glorious victory which he gained after passing the Indus in a

heroic manner, without a ford. It was quite delightful to hear Runjeet

speak of his charges, his squares, his battles, and his success; and

his only eye brightened with the description. “You will pass the field

of battle,” added he, “and you must reconnoitre it well. I shall give

you letters to the neighbouring chiefs and the marauding Khyberees, who

will describe the ground, and ensure your protection and honourable

treatment.” The favour was well meant; and I felt it the more, as it

was unsolicited, though the letters proved useless.

~Return to Lahore.~

We continued in the enjoyment of his society till the end of the month,

when we returned to Lahore, with the same pomp and pageantry that we

had witnessed in the field. On the way we had some sport with the

hawks, which is an amusement that can be enjoyed even by those who are

no sportsmen. A hundred cannon announced the arrival of Runjeet Sing

in his capital; and we again took up our abode with our worthy friend

Monsieur Allard.

~Festival of the Busunt, or Spring.~

On the 6th of February, the festival of the “Busunt,” which simply

means the Spring, was celebrated with great splendour. Runjeet

invited us on the occasion; and we accompanied him on elephants to

witness the demonstration of joy with which returning spring is here

hailed, as in other countries. The troops of the Punjab were drawn

out, forming a street of about two miles long, which it took upwards

of thirty-five minutes to traverse. The army consisted entirely of

regular troops--cavalry, infantry, and artillery; and the whole corps

was uniformly dressed in yellow, which is the gala costume of this

Carnival. The Maharaja passed down the line, and received the salute of

his forces. Our road lay entirely through the ruins of old Lahore, over

irregular ground, which gave the line a waving appearance that greatly

heightened the beauty of the scene. At the end of this magnificent

array stood the royal tents, lined with yellow silk. Among them was

a canopy, valued at a lac of rupees, covered with pearls, and having

a border of precious stones. Nothing can be imagined more grand. At

one end Runjeet took his seat, and heard the Grinth, or sacred volume

of the Seiks, for about ten minutes. He made a present to the priest;

and the holy book was borne away wrapped in ten different covers, the

outside one of which, in honour of the day, was of yellow velvet.

Flowers and fruits were then placed before his Highness; and every

kind of shrub or tree that produced a yellow flower must have been

shorn of its beauties on this day. I could discover no reason for the

selection of so plain a colour, but the arbitrary will of a ruler.

After this came the nobles and commandants of his troops, dressed in

yellow, to make their offerings in money. Two sons of the fallen Kings

of Cabool, Shah Zuman and Shah Eyoob, then entered, and conversed for

some time. The Nawab of Mooltan, clad also in yellow, and accompanied

by five of his sons, followed to pay his homage, and was most kindly

received. This is the same individual who was so much frightened at the

Cabool mission, now a subservient vassal of Runjeet Sing. His name is

Surufraz Khan. The agents from Bhawulpoor and Sinde approached in their

turn, and were closely questioned about a subject of great political

importance at the present time,--the opening of the Indus. One could

ill discover, from the sycophancy of these persons, that they were the

representatives of those who so cordially hated the Maharaja. With

these ceremonies the dancing girls were introduced; and as they share

the favour of his Highness, they partook most bounteously of the pile

of money now lying before him. He appeared almost to divide it among

them. They were desired to chant the amorous songs of the festival;

also an ode on wine. Runjeet then introduced the bottle, and insisted

on our drinking a stirrup-cup, with which we parted.

~Entertainment by the Maharaja.~

Our departure from Lahore was stayed by the entertainment which his

Highness had resolved on giving us in his palace of the Sumun Boorj. We

met in a garden, and proceeded with him to the appointed place, which

was superbly illuminated with waxen tapers on the occasion. Bottles

filled with different coloured water were placed near the lights, and

increased the splendour. We were first conducted to the great hall, the

ancient seat of the Mogul Emperors, which is about seventy feet long,

and opened to the front by an arched colonnade of marble. The ceiling

and walls are entirely inlaid with mirrors, or gilded; and on this

occasion presented a scene of great magnificence. There are many parts

of this place, which, like that of Delhi, evidently owe much of their

architectural beauty to the genius of an European artist. We withdrew

from the great hall to a small apartment, the bed-room of the Maharaja,

where it was intended that the festivities of the evening should take

place. Captain Wade and Dr. Murray were likewise present; and we sat

round his Highness on silver chairs. In one end of the room stood a

camp bedstead, which merits a description. Its frame-work, posts, and

legs were entirely covered with gold, and the canopy was one massy

sheet of the same precious metal. It stood on footstools raised about

ten inches from the ground, and which were also of gold. The curtains

were of Cashmeer shawls. Near it stood a round chair of gold; and in

one of the upper rooms of the palace we saw the counterpart of these

costly ornaments. The candles that lighted up the apartment were held

in branch sticks of gold. The little room in which we sat was superbly

gilded; and the side which was next the court was closed by a screen

of yellow silk. Here we enjoyed the society of our royal entertainer,

who freely circulated the wine, filled our glasses himself, and gave

every encouragement by his own example. Runjeet drinks by the weight,

and his usual dose does not exceed that of eight _pice_[7]; but on

this occasion he had quaffed the measure of eighteen. His favourite

beverage is a spirit distilled from the grapes of Cabool, which is very

fiery, and stronger than brandy. In his cups he became very amusing,

and mentioned many incidents of his private life. He had quelled two

mutinies among his troops; three of his chiefs had, at different times,

fallen by his side; and he had once challenged his adversary to settle

the dispute by single combat. The battles of his Highness infected

the dancing ladies whom he had introduced, in a later period of the

evening, according to his custom. He gave them spirits; and they tore

and fought with each other, much to his amusement, and to the pain

of the poor creatures, who lost some ponderous ornaments from their

ears and noses in the scuffle. Supper was introduced, and consisted of

different kinds of meats, richly cooked, and which in contrast to the

surrounding magnificence, were handed up in leaves sewed into the shape

of cups. They contained hare, partridge, pork, and all sorts of game,

&c., of which Runjeet partook freely, and handed to us. There were also

a variety of confections and ices: but it is easier to describe these

matters of fact than the scene in which they took place. We broke up

long past midnight.

~Preparations for our journey.~

~Kindness of Messrs. Allard and Court.~

During these gay and festive scenes, we were not forgetful of the

difficulties which awaited us; and availed ourselves of the experience

of Messrs. Allard and Court, who had travelled overland from Persia

through a part of the countries we were now about to traverse. These

gentlemen seemed to vie with each other in every act of kindness.

They furnished us with various letters to their acquaintances in

Afghanistan, and gave us many hints to guide our conduct. Monsieur

Court, indeed, drew up a précis of them, the result of his own

experience, which I annex[8], since it conveys, at the same time, most

valuable information to a traveller, and gives me an opportunity of

expressing my gratitude both to him and M. Allard, and the reasons on

which I found it. These gentlemen did not disguise from me the many

apprehensions which they entertained for our safety; but our visit to

Lahore had not been made to discuss the chances of our success, but

only in prosecution of the journey.

~Audience of leave.~

On the evening of the 10th of February, we took our leave of Maharajah

Runjeet Sing on the parade-ground, where he again exhibited to us, with

apparent pride, the progress which his troops had made in throwing

shells. On this occasion he asked for my opinions on opening the Indus;

and remarked, that, as that river and its five great tributaries passed

through his territories, he ought to derive greater advantages than

the British government. He spoke of the scheme as might have been

expected from a man of his enlightened views; but said that he did not

relish the idea of vessels navigating all parts of his territories.

He fears collision with the British government. His Highness then

proceeded to dictate letters in our behalf to the chiefs of Peshawur

and Cabool, as well as several other personages beyond the Indus. He

also issued orders to all the chiefs and agents between his capital

and the frontier; and stretching his hand from the elephant, gave each

of us a hearty shake, and said farewell. He particularly requested me

to write to him frequently, and give an account of the countries I

traversed, with their politics and customs, and never forget him in

whatever region I might be placed. Nor did we forget his request when

far from his territories. We received letters from Runjeet Sing himself

in the deserts of Tartary and in Bokhara. I never quitted the presence

of a native of Asia with such impressions as I left this man: without

education, and without a guide, he conducts all the affairs of his

kingdom with surpassing energy and vigour, and yet he wields his power

with a moderation quite unprecedented in an Eastern prince.

MONSIEUR COURT’S INSTRUCTIONS.

“_A Monsieur Burnes, par son Ami, M. Court._

“Le proverbe Français dit, ‘Si tu veux vivre en paix en voyageant,

fais en sorte de hurler comme les loups avec qui tu te trouves:’

c’est-à-dire, Conforme toi en tout aux mœurs et coutumes des habitans

des contrées que tu parcours. C’est là la base de vos instructions.

“Commencez d’abord par vous dépouiller de tout ce qui pourrait faire

connaître que vous êtes Européen; car si l’on vient à savoir que vous

êtes tel, on va se figurer que vous emportez avec vous toutes les mines

de Pérou. Par là vous vous attirez sur les bras une nuée d’ennemis,

vu que les peuplades barbares que vous allez traverser n’en veulent

qu’à l’argent, et non à la personne. Evitez donc de produire le

moindre objet qui puisse tenter leur cupidité. Songez que souvent je

les ai entendus se glorifier, comme d’un acte héroïque, d’avoir fait

assassiner telle et telle personne, pour lui enlever un objet qu’ils

avaient convoité.

“Evitez autant que possible les occasions qui pourraient donner

atteinte à votre honneur. Si des cas imprévus surviennent, n’y répondez

jamais avec emportement; car répondre à l’insolence Asiatique c’est

ajouter de la matière combustible à un feu qui brûle déjà. Si vous vous

voyez forcé d’y répondre, il faut alors leur présenter des raisons

solides accompagnées d’expressions obligeantes et courageuses.

“Ayez pour maxime qu’il ne faut pas faire d’amitié particulière avec

les Orientaux, vu qu’ils sont incapables d’attachement sincère. Vivez

bien avec tous, mais ne vous attachez à aucun. Par ce moyen il vous en

coûtera moins. Sachez qu’ils n’ont ni la bonne foi, ni la franchise, ni

la loyauté qui nous caractérisent. Ils sont doux, flatteurs, caressans,

il est vrai; mais sous ces formes séduisantes ils cachent presque

toujours de sinistres desseins. La perfidie, la trahison, le parjure

n’ont rien qui leur paraisse répréhensible. A leurs yeux le droit

n’est rien, la force fait tout. N’allez pas vous imaginer que ce que

vous appelez bonté, douceur, complaisance, puisse vous être utile. Ils

ne savent nullement apprécier de telles qualités. Comme Européen, ne

craignez pas de faire usage de la flatterie. Etant d’usage parmi eux,

vous ne sauriez trop l’employer; elle peut même vous être avantageuse.

“En quittant Lahore, dites adieu à Bacchus, pour ne le revoir que

dans la belle Europe. C’est là un sacrifice essentiel à faire. Il

vous évitera bien des querelles que pourraient vous susciter les

Mahométans. Soyez modeste dans vos dépenses: moins vous en ferez, moins

vous tenterez la cupidité des Orientaux. Evitez surtout de donner le

moindre cadeau; car si vous faites tant que de régaler quelqu’un,

vous vous trouverez bientôt assiégé par une infinité d’autres, qui ne

désempareront que quand vous les aurez satisfaits. Paraissez en public

le moins qu’il vous sera possible. Evitez toute sorte de conversation,

surtout celles qui traitent de théologie, point sur lequel les

Mahométans aiment à tomber avec un Européen. Donnez leur toujours

raison lorsque vous vous verrez forcé de donner votre avis. Que vos

mémoires soient écrits en secret, autrement vous donneriez lieu à des

soupçons qui pourraient vous être préjudiciables.

“En prenant des renseignemens, faites le avec adresse et prudence;

n’ayez jamais l’air d’insister à les avoir. Si le pays offre des

curiosités, visitez les comme pour passer le tems: si elles sont

écartées, n’y allez jamais qu’en bonne compagnie.

“Ne vous mettez en route qu’avec des caravanes sûres, et ayez surtout

l’attention de ne jamais vous en écarter. Ayez de petites attentions

pour le caravanseraskier, car c’est toujours de lui que dépend

l’heureux succès des voyageurs. En vous attirant son amitié, il pourra

vous donner des renseignemens que vous pourrez désirer, et par là

vous éviterez de vous adresser à des personnes étrangères. Que votre

campement soit toujours à ses côtés; mais, nonobstant cela, que l’un de

vous ait sans cesse l’œil au guet.

“Soyez toujours armé jusqu’aux dents pour en imposer. Evitez les gens

qui font les empressés pour vous servir, car ce sont là ordinairement

des marauds qui en veulent à votre bourse. Avant votre départ, tâchez

de faire connaître que vous partez sans argent, et que ce qu’il vous

en faut vous l’avez pris en lettres de change. Faites en sorte d’avoir

toujours la moitié de votre argent sur vous, et bien caché. Dans les

endroits où vous craindrez d’être visité, cachez le d’avance pour qu’il

ne soit pas vu. Songez que j’ai été plus d’une fois visité, et que cela

pourrait fort bien vous arriver; trouvez donc de bonnes cachettes pour

l’argent.

“Lorsqu’il s’agira de payer la traite foraine, soldez la sans

difficulté, à moins que les exigeances du douanier ne soient trop

fortes. Sachez que ce sont là des coquins qui peuvent vous susciter

plus d’une querelle.

“Quoique voyageant dans des contrées livrées au plus affreux

despotisme, vous ne pourrez vous empêcher d’admirer la grande

familiarité qui existe du petit au grand, ainsi ne soyez nullement

étonné si vous vous voyez par fois accosté par des vauriens qui vous

arracheront des mains le kalion pour en tirer de la fumée. N’ayez donc

aucun air hautain avec qui que ce soit; l’air de fakhir est celui qui

vous convient le plus.

“Le Nevab Dgiabar Khan peut vous aplanir toutes les difficultés que

vous pourrez rencontrer de Caboul à Bokhara; tâchez donc de lui plaire:

c’est d’ailleurs le plus parfait honnête homme que j’ai rencontré en

Asie. Quant à votre projet de traverser la Khiva pour vous rendre sur

les bords de la mer Caspienne, je le trouve impraticable: je désire,

cependant, que vous puissiez le surmonter. Dans le cas contraire,

repliez vous sur Hérat ou Méched, mais alors ne vous mettez en route

qu’avec une nombreuse caravane bien armée, car le pays que vous devez

traverser est infesté de Turcomans, qui ravagent impunément toutes ces

contrées. D’ailleurs, l’expérience que vous acquerrez en traversant ces

contrées vous fournira des lumières propres à vous guider mieux que ne

le feroient mes instructions.

“Que Dieu vous fasse arriver à bon port!”

FOOTNOTES:

[3] Holeus spicatus.

[4] A country between two rivers is so called.

[5] Capparis.

[6] Mimosa Arabica.

[7] A small copper coin.

[8] See the end of the chapter.

CHAP. II.

ACROSS THE PUNJAB TO THE INDUS.

~Quit Lahore.~

After taking an affectionate farewell of Messrs. Allard and Court, we

quitted Lahore in the forenoon of the 11th of February, and alighted at

the tomb of Juhangeer, a splendid mausoleum across the Ravee. Without

any depression of spirits, or diminution of zeal, I felt no small

degree of solitude at being separated from our hospitable friends; and

I now look back on the few weeks which I passed at Lahore as some of

the happiest days of my life. Nor was there much in our first night’s

lodging to cheer us--the wreck of a royal cemetery, which the manes of

a king had once rendered sacred, but lately converted into a barrack

for a brigade of infantry, who had further contributed to its desolate

appearance. We put up for the night in one of the garden houses which

surround it, and listened to the puerile stories of the people, who

assured us that the body of the emperor, like the fabled tale of that

of Mohammed, was suspended by loadstones. One has only to enter a

chamber underneath to see it resting on the ground.

~Reduction of baggage. Arrangements.~

It now became necessary to divest ourselves almost of every thing which

belonged to us, and discontinue many habits and practices which had

become a second nature: but the success of our enterprise depended

upon these sacrifices. We threw away all our European clothes, and

adopted, without reserve, the costume of the Asiatic. We exchanged our

tight dress for the flowing robe of the Afghans, girt on swords, and

“kummur-bunds” (sashes); and with our heads shaved, and groaning under

ponderous turbans, we strutted about slipshod; and had now to uncover

the feet instead of the head. We gave away our tents, beds, and boxes,

and broke our tables and chairs. A hut, or the ground, we knew, must

be our shelter, and a coarse carpet or mat our bed. A blanket, or

“kummul,” served to cover the native saddle, and to sleep under during

night; and the greater portion of my now limited wardrobe found a

place in the “koorjeen,” or saddle-bags, which were thrown across the

horse’s quarter. A single mule for each of us carried the whole of our

baggage, with my books and instruments; and a servant likewise found a

seat upon the animal. A pony carried the surveyor, Mohammed Ali; and

the Hindoo lad had the same allowance. These arrangements took some

time and consideration; and we burned, gave away, and destroyed whole

mule-loads of baggage--a propitiatory offering, as I called it, to

those immortal demons the Khyberees, who have plundered the traveller,

from time immemorial, across the Indus. Every one seemed sensible of

the imperious necessity of the sacrifice, since we valued our lives

more than our property. Of what use would it have been to have adopted

the costume and customs of the country, and to be yet burdened with the

useless paraphernalia of civilisation? It is, nevertheless, a curious

feeling to be sitting cross-legged, and to pen a journal on one’s

knees. Custom soon habituated us to these changes; and we did not do

the less justice to our meals because we discarded wine and spirits in

every shape, and ate with our fingers from copper dishes without knives

and forks.

~A garden described.~

Half-way across to the Chenab, we halted in a garden at Kote, the

residence of one of Runjeet Sing’s colonels. It was an agreeable

halting-place. It was not 100 yards square, but well stored with

fruit-trees and flowers: most of the former were now in blossom, and

an enumeration of them would give a favourable idea of this climate.

They consisted of the peach, apricot, greengage, fig, pomegranate,

quince, orange sweet and bitter, lime, lemon, guava, grape, mango,

jamboo, bair, date, cardamom, almond, and the apple; with seven or

eight other kinds, of which I can only give the native names,--the

_gooler_, _sohaujna_, _goolcheen_, _umltass_, _bell_, _bussoora_. The

walks of the garden were lined with beautiful cypresses and weeping

willows; and in the flower-beds were the narcissus, and rose-bushes of

the “sidburg,” or an hundred leaves. Most of the trees and flowers are

indigenous, but many had been introduced from Cashmeer; and a native

of that valley was the gardener. The proprietor of this pleasant spot

was absent: his villa was in disorder, and much neglected, since he is

suffering from the avarice of his ruler. His son, a sharp boy of nine

years old, paid us a visit, and repeated some lines of a Persian poet

which he was reading at school. Little fellow, he is growing up to

witness scenes of blood, at all events of alteration, in this land!

~Hemilaya.~

At a distance of about twenty miles from the river, we again sighted

the towering Hemilaya, which burst forth in all their glory. They were

the mountains over Bimbur, on the road to Cashmeer, where Bernier had

deplored his sufferings from the heat, now over-topped with snow. It is

impossible to look on these mountains without feelings of delight; for

they afford a relief to the eye after the monotony of the vast plains

of the Punjab. Judging from the heights which have been determined

more to the eastward, they cannot be lower than 16,000 feet. It is

difficult to estimate their distance, since the map gives no correct

notion of the range. Making every allowance, the loftiest of them could

not be nearer than 160 miles, and subtended an angle of 51 minutes.

There was scarcely a single peak, or feature, in any way remarkable

throughout the range. May not this regular lineation indicate a trap or

limestone formation?

~Reach the Chenab, or Acesines.~

We reached the banks of the Chenab, or Acesines, at Ramnuggur, a small

town, the favourite resort of Runjeet Sing, and where he has often

mustered his troops when proceeding on his campaigns beyond the Indus.

It stands on a spacious plain for the exercise of his troops. The name

of the place has been altered from Russool to Ramnuggur since the

Mahommedan supremacy has been overthrown. The one name signifies the

city of the prophet, the other the city of a god; nor is it remarkable

that the name of the Deity should prevail.

~Soil and wells.~

~Sugar.~

The “Doab,” between the Ravee and Chenab, is a little better

cultivated, and more fertile, than that which we had passed. Its soil

is sandy, and in its centre the wells are but twenty-five feet deep.

Their temperature averaged about 70° of Fahrenheit. In the morning,

vapour or clouds of smoke ascended from them, till the atmosphere was

sufficiently heated to hide it. At this season the climate is cold

and bleak, frequently rainy, and always cloudy. The wind generally

blows from the north. The sugar-cane thrives here; and they were now

expressing its juice, which is extracted by placing two wooden rollers

horizontally on the top of each other, and setting them in motion by a

pair of oxen. They turn a wheel which acts on two lesser ones, placed

vertically at right angles to it, and these communicate with the wooden

rollers. While I examined one of these machines, the head man of the

village explained it; and then made me a present of some “goor,” or

coarse sugar, the first-fruits of the season. He was an ignorant Jut:

his son accompanied him. When I enquired into the knowledge of the boy,

and advised his being sent to school, he replied, that education was

useless to a cultivator of the soil. The same opinion, I am sorry to

say, prevails in higher quarters; for Runjeet and his son are equally

unlettered, and they object to the education of the grandson, who is

otherwise a promising boy.

~A Seik chief.~

At Ramnuggur we had a visit from a venerable Seik chief, of eighty-two,

who had fought in the wars under the grandfather of Runjeet Sing. His

beard was silvered by age; but he was a hale old man, and appeared in

an entire suit of white clothes, which in this country mark the old

school as distinctly as the queue and Spencer of England. The garrulity

of years had overtaken him; yet he gave us a lively account of his

early career, and the increasing power of the Seik nation. “It had

been predicted,” he said, “in their Grinth, or Bible, that wherever

there was a horse or a spear, there would be chiefs and soldiers in

the land. Every day serves to verify the prediction,” continued he;

“since the number of converts to the Seik creed increases, and now

averages about 5000 yearly.” When political aggrandisement follows

the religious supremacy of a sect, it requires little prediction or

foresight to know that that sect will increase. With the Patan invasion

the Hindoo became a Mahommedan; and with the Seik power both he and

the Hindoo have become Seiks, or Sings. The genuine Sing, or Khalsa,

knows no occupation but war and agriculture; and he more affects the

one than the other. The follower of Baba Nanuk is a merchant. The Seiks

are doubtless the most rising people in modern India. Our venerable

acquaintance spoke of the degeneracy of the land; but the vigorous

government and tone of the people do not countenance his opinions.

~Seiks. Peculiarities of the tribe.~

There is a curious subject for speculation in the appearance of the

Seik people, and their general resemblance to each other. As a tribe

they were unknown 400 years ago; and the features of the whole nation

are now as distinct from those of their neighbours as the Indian

and the Chinese. With an extreme regularity of physiognomy, and an

elongation of the countenance, they may be readily distinguished from

the other tribes. That any nation possessing peculiar customs should

have a common manner and character, is easily understood; but that,

in such a short period of time, some hundred thousand people should

exhibit as strong a national likeness as is to be seen among the

children of Israel, is, to say the least of it, remarkable.

~Cross the Chenab.~

We crossed the Chenab, or Acesines, by the usual ferry, which is about

three miles from the village. It was three hundred yards wide, and

had a depth of nine feet for two thirds of the channel. Its banks

are low on either side, and speedily inundated in the hot and rainy

seasons. We are informed that Alexander the Great had to move his

camp precipitately from the Acesines, which Arrian describes to be a

rapid river. During the rains it is so, but the current did not now

exceed one mile and a half an hour; and it is passable by a ford. The

temperature of this river was 53°, and lower than the three other

rivers of the Punjab which we had already crossed--the Sutlege, Beas,

and Ravee.

~Diseases. Opinions regarding them.~

We halted at a mosque on the right bank of the river, but our quarters

must not be mistaken for a St. Sophia. These buildings consist of

mud walls, over which a terrace roof is formed by wooden rafters,

also covered with mud. The “faithful” are luxurious enough to have

a fireplace inside, to heat the water used in their ablutions. Our

violations of a place so holy was, in some degree, compensated by the

liberal distribution of our medicines. Some noxious wind, as the people

had it, had lately blown over this country, which, with the arrival of

such a personage as a Firingee (European) physician, made every person

sick. As in other countries, the ladies had the most numerous catalogue

of complaints; and if the doctor did not actually cure, I believe

he worked on their imaginations, which is of some consequence. The

people are much afflicted with a disease called “Noozlu,” (literally

defluxion,) which I thought meant cold. They describe it as a running

at the nostrils, which wastes the brain and stamina of the body, and

ends fatally. It is attributed to the salt used in the country, which

is procured from the salt range. There is much eye disease in the

Punjab, which may be caused by the nitrous particles on the banks

of its different rivers. Ask a native for an explanation of it, or

any other complaint, and he will tell you that it, and all other

inflictions, are the punishment of offences committed by ourselves, or

in the former state of our being. In the doctrine of metempsychosis,

they have, at all events, found a future state of punishments, and, as

optimists, I hope, rewards.

~Cross the Jelum or Hydaspes.~

A journey of forty-five miles brought us to the banks of the Jelum,

or the famous Hydaspes of the Greeks. It winds its way through an

alluvial plain, at the base of a low rocky range of hills. We embarked

upon this fine river, and sailed down with the stream for a distance

of five miles. On the voyage we disturbed several crocodiles from the

different islands, which are more numerous than in the other Punjab

rivers. The same fact is mentioned by Arrian, who speaks of the

Hydaspes as a “muddy and rapid” river, with a current of three or four

miles an hour, which is correct. It had rained on the day preceding our

arrival; the stream was discoloured, and the water bubbled in eddies

at various places. The Jelum is a smaller river than the Chenab, but

at this season their breadth is similar. On disembarking, we crossed

a rich and beautiful sheet of verdure that stretches to the town of

Pind Dadun Khan, where we halted. Historical association and natural

beauties united to please as we trod the routes of Hyphestion and

Craterus, and sailed on the stream which had wafted the fleet of

Alexander. In our progress from the Chenab, we had been travelling

in the domain which that conqueror had added to the kingdom of Porus

after the battle of the Hydaspes. In Arrian’s description I see the

existing population:--“The inhabitants are strong built and large

limbed, and taller in stature than all the rest of the Asiatics.”

Nothing, however, can be more miserable than the country between the

Acesines and Hydaspes,--a sterile waste of underwood, the abode of

shepherds, scantily supplied with water, which is sixty-five feet

below the surface. At one of the few villages in this tract, we halted

at the well of a vestal virgin, who had dug it, and founded a mosque

from feelings of charity. Such people are called “pak damun,” which

literally means pure garment. They marry themselves to the Koran. The

Mohammedans of our party visited the lady, and we repaired her well by

fixing new pots for drawing the water.

~Arrival at Pind Dadun Khan.~

At Pind Dadun Khan we were met and welcomed by the authorities on the

banks of the river. They presented us with a purse of 500 rupees,

and some jars of sweetmeats. Pind Dadun Khan is the capital of a

small district, and has a population of about 6000 souls. It consists

of three small towns situated close to each other, and about four

miles from the river. Its houses are like others in the Punjab; but

their frameworks are made of cedar (deodar), which is floated down

with the inundations of the river from the Hemilaya. The durability

and fragrance of this wood recommend it for building of every

description. We saw a cedar-tree lying on the banks of the Hydaspes,

with a circumference of thirteen feet. On this river the Macedonians

constructed the fleet by which they navigated the Indus; and it is a

remarkable fact, that in none of the other Punjab rivers are such trees

floated down, nor do there exist any where else such facilities for the

construction of vessels.

~Salt mines of Pind Dadun Khan.~

Pind Dadun Khan lies within five miles of the salt range, which

stretches from the Indus to the Hydaspes, and in which numerous

mines are dug for the extraction of that mineral. We halted a day to

examine these curious excavations, and which I shall now describe. We

found about 100 persons at work in one of the mines, who were as much

surprised to see us, as we were to behold the bright and beautiful

crystals of red salt which formed the walls of the cave. We converted

our visit into a day of rejoicing, by a liberal distribution of some of

the money which was every where heaped upon us, nor could it be better

bestowed, for the poor creatures presented to us a spectacle of misery.

Mothers with their infants, children, and old men, were alike employed

in bringing the salt to the surface, and their cadaverous looks and

stifled breathing excited the utmost compassion. We gave them a rupee

each, the value of which could be justly appreciated, since they could

only earn it after extracting 2000 pounds of salt.

~Position of the salt range.~

In the high lands of Cabool, between the city of that name and

Peshawur, a range of hills springing from the roots of the White

Mountain (Sufeed Koh) crosses the Indus at Karabagh, and terminates

on the right bank of the Jelum, or Hydaspes of the ancients. This

range formerly figured in our maps under the name of Jood, after it

had passed the river; but it has been more appropriately denominated

the “Salt Range,” from the extensive deposits of rock-salt which it

contains. An account of that part of it near Karabagh, where the

Indus, in its course southward, cuts this range, and lays open its

mineral treasures, will be found in Mr. Elphinstone’s work.[9] In the

neighbourhood of Pind Dadun Khan, a town about 100 miles N. W. of

Lahore, the salt mines which supply the northern provinces of India

with that necessary of life are excavated in the same range. The

following particulars pretend not to rank as a scientific account of

these mines, my only object being to convey that information which

a journey to so unfrequented a part of the Punjab has enabled me to

collect.

~Formation, &c.~

The salt range forms the southern boundary of a table land, between

the Indus and Hydaspes, which rises about 800 feet from the plains of

the Punjab. The hills attain an actual height of 1200 feet from the

valley of the Jelum, which gives them an elevation of about 2000 feet

from the sea. They exceed five miles in breadth. The formation is

sandstone, occurring in vertical strata, with pebbles or round stones

imbedded in various parts of it. Vegetation is scanty; and the bold and

bare precipices, some of which rise at once from the plain, present

a frightful aspect of desolation. Hot springs are found in various

places. Alum, antimony, and sulphur also occur; but a red clay, which

is chiefly seen in the valleys, is a sure indication of a salt deposit,

and is to be found at intervals throughout this range. The supply

of the mineral is now drawn from Pind Dadun Khan, whence it can be

conveyed with facility both up and down a navigable river.

~Mines, strata, temperature.~

At the village of Keora, five miles from Pind Dadun Khan, we examined

one of the principal mines. It was situated near the outside of the

range, in a valley, which was cut by a rivulet of salt water. It opened

into the hill through the red clayey formation above mentioned, at

a distance of about 200 feet from the base. We were conducted by a

narrow gallery, sufficient to admit of one person passing another, for

about 350 yards, of which fifty may be taken as actual descent. Here

we entered a cavern of irregular dimensions, and about 100 feet high,

excavated entirely in salt. The mineral is deposited in strata of the

utmost regularity, occurring, like the external rock, in vertical

layers. Some of them, however, subtend an angle of from twenty to

thirty degrees, and have the same appearance as bricks that have been

placed upon one another. None of the layers exceed a foot and a half

in thickness, and each is distinctly separated from its neighbour by

a deposit of argillaceous earth about an eighth of an inch thick,

which lies like mortar between the strata. Some of the salt occurs in

hexagonal crystals, but oftener in masses: the whole of it is tinged

with red, varying from the slightest shade to the deepest hue; when

pounded, the salt is white. The temperature of the cavern exceeded

that of the open air by twenty degrees, where the thermometer stood at

sixty-four (in February). The natives state that these mines are much

colder in the hot season; but this only shows that they undergo little

or no alteration, while the heat outside alters with the season. There

was no moist feeling, which one might have expected in a salt mine.

~Manner of working the salt. Its quality.~

There were upwards of 100 persons, men, women, and children, at work in

the mine; and their little dim burning lamps on the sides of the cavern

and its recesses shone with reflected lustre from the ruby crystals of

the rock. The cavity has been excavated from the roof downwards. The

salt is hard and brittle, so that it splinters when struck with the

sledge-hammer and pickaxe. The rock is never blasted with gunpowder,

from fear of the roof falling in; and accidents of this kind sometimes

happen in the present simple mode of excavation. The mines are not

worked for two months during the rains, for the same reason. The

miners live in villages among the hills. They have a most unhealthy

complexion, but do not appear to be subject to any particular disease.

They receive a rupee for every twenty maunds of salt brought to the

surface, a task which may be performed by a man, his wife and child,

in two days. In those mines where the mineral is near the surface, it

is hewn into blocks of four maunds, two of which load a camel, but it

is usually broken in small pieces. This salt holds a high reputation

throughout India, with native practitioners, from its medical virtues.

It is not pure, having a considerable mixture of some substance

(probably magnesia), which renders it unfit for curing meat. The

natives of the Punjab ascribe the prevalence of “noozlu” to its effects.

~Supply of the mineral.~

As the salt range contains a supply which is inexhaustible, the mines

yield any quantity that may be desired. Two thousand five hundred

maunds of Lahore (one of which is equal to 100 lbs. English) are

extracted daily, which gives about 800,000 maunds annually. A few years

since the salt was sold at the mine for a half, and even a quarter, of

a rupee per maund; but its price has been now raised to two rupees per

maund, exclusive of duties. It is closely monopolised by the Punjab

government; and Runjeet Sing hopes to derive an annual revenue of

sixteen lacs of rupees, with two and a half more for the duties. A lac

and a half of rupees, however, is expended in working the mineral. The

profits amount to about 1100 per cent., though the salt is sold for one

third the price of that of Bengal, which averages five rupees per maund

of 80 lbs.[10] The Punjab salt is exported by the Jelum to Mooltan and

Bhawulpoor, where it meets that of the Sambre lake. It finds its way to

the banks of the Jumna and Cashmeer, but it is not exported westward

of the Indus. Runjeet Sing has prohibited the manufacture of salt in

all parts of his dominions; yet it is very questionable if he will

permanently derive so large a revenue from it as he now receives. The

farmer of the monopoly, a cruel and tyrannical man, is now mercilessly

oppressing the people to extract it. The natives do not know the period

at which these mines were first worked; but it must have been at an

early date, since the mineral is laid open by the Indus. They were used

by the emperors of Hindostan; but the enquiring Baber does not mention

them in his commentaries.

~Banks of the Hydaspes.~

~Villages.~

We marched up the right bank of the Jelum to Julalpoor for about thirty

miles by a tract of rich land and great fertility. The husbandmen were

mowing down the green wheat for the use of their cattle. The salt

range runs parallel with the river, and presents a perfect contrast

of desolation to its fertile valley; for it has no vegetation. Many

villages, however, are perched upon the outer hills, which rise over

one another in a picturesque manner. Nor are they more remarkable for

their romantic situation than their comfort. We halted at one of them,

which was neat and well kept, and lodged in a room which was about

sixteen feet long, and half that breadth. It had cupboards and shelves,

while the magazines for grain, which are formed of earth, answered

the purposes of tables. The whole buildings, both inside and out,

are plastered with a grey-coloured earth, which gives them a cleanly

appearance; and since these villages stand on the declivity of the

hills, the rain washes down all that is disagreeable with it. In return

for the hospitality which gave us this house, Dr. Gerard had the good

fortune to save the life of a poor woman who was dying of inflammation,

and whom he bled copiously.

~Scene of Porus’s battle.~

It has been conjectured that Julalpoor is the scene of Alexander’s

battle with Porus, when he crossed the stream by a stratagem, and

defeated that prince. There is much to favour the opinion; for, in the

words of Quintus Curtius, we have “islands in the stream, projecting

banks, and waters dilated.” Yet the mention “of sunken rocks” seems to

point higher up the river, near the village of Jelum. The high roads

from the Indus pass this river at two places, at Julalpoor and Jelum;

but the latter is the great road from Tartary, and appears to have been

the one followed by Alexander. The rocky nature of its banks and bed

here assists us in identifying the localities of the route, since the

course of the river is not liable to fluctuation. At Jelum the river

is also divided into five or six channels, and fordable at all times,

except in the monsoon.

~Extensive ruins.~

~Speculations.~

~Nicæ and Bucephalia.~

About fifteen miles below Jelum, and about a thousand yards from

the Hydaspes, near the modern village of Darapoor, we hit upon some

extensive ruins called Oodeenuggur, which seems to have been a city

that extended for three or four miles. The traditions of the people

are vague and unsatisfactory, for they referred us to the deluge, and

the time of the prophet Noah. Many copper coins are found, but those

which were brought to me bore Arabic inscriptions. A slab, with an

inscription in that language, which had been lately dug up, was also

shown to us; and I learn from M. Court that he found a fluted pillar

near this site with a capital very like the Corinthian order. It,

however, had a Hindoo figure on it. At present there are no buildings

standing; but the ground is strewed with broken pieces of kiln-burnt

bricks and pottery, the latter of a superior description. On the

opposite side of the Hydaspes to Darapoor stands a mound said to be

coeval with Oodeenuggur, where the village of Moong is built, at which

I procured two Sanscrit coins. There are likewise some extensive ruins

beyond Moong, near Huria Badshahpoor. I do not conceive it improbable

that Oodeenuggur may represent the site of Nicæ, and that the mounds

and ruins on the western bank mark the position of Bucephalia. We

are told that these cities were built so close to the river, that

Alexander had to repair them on his return from the Punjab campaign,

since they stood within the influence of the inundation. It is to be

observed that towns which have an advantageous locality are seldom

deserted; and if so, that others rise near them, which will account

for the Arabic coins found in the neighbourhood. Alexander is said to

have pitched his camp at a distance of 150 stadia from the river, on a

plain; and there is an extensive champaign tract behind this very site.

~Porus’s army compared with Runjeet Sing’s.~

In our search for the remnants of Alexander’s cities, we are led into

reflections on the state of the country in those days; and it is

curious to compare them with our own times. We are informed that Porus,

with whom Alexander fought on the banks of this river, maintained a

force of 30,000 infantry and 4000 cavalry, with 200 elephants and 300

war chariots; and that he had subdued all his neighbours. Now, if we

change the war chariots into guns, we have precisely the regular force

of Runjeet Sing, _the modern Porus_, who has likewise overwhelmed

all his neighbours. The same country will generally produce the same

number of troops, if its population be not reduced by adventitious

circumstances.

~Floating islands.~

We quitted the banks of the Jelum, and entered the country of Potewar,

inhabited by a tribe of people called Gukers, famed for their beauty,

and claiming a Rajpoot origin. The credulity of these people is as

great as in other parts of India. A grave and respectable man assured

me that he had seen a lake, called Ruwaesir, in the hill district of

Mundee, on the Sutlege, which had three small islets floating upon

it. These are a place of Hindoo pilgrimage; and my informant assured

me that they approach to receive the votaries who embark upon them,

and are floated out with their offerings! It is obvious that there

must be some delusion or deception, which is practised with no small

dexterity, as the place retains its character. A native told me that he

had heard it was an artificial heap of soil placed over reeds; but he

had not visited the spot, and seemed to proffer his information from

hearing my doubts as strongly expressed as I felt them. In the valley

of Cashmeer there are moveable beds of melons, which in some degree,

may be considered in the light of islands. The ingenious people of that

valley spread a thick mat on the surface of their lake, and sprinkle it

over with soil: it soon acquires a consistency, from the grass growing

upon it. On the following year they sow melons and cucumbers, and reap

the harvest from a boat; and thus turn to account the very surface of

the lake in their rich country. The melon islands of Cashmeer may have

supplied a hint to the Hindoo priests of Mundee.

~Costume of the ladies.~

Our approach to the Mohammedan countries became evident daily, and

showed itself in nothing more than the costume of the women, many of

whom we now met veiled. One girl whom we saw on the road had a canopy

of red cloth erected over her on horseback, which had a ludicrous

appearance. It seemed to be a framework of wood, but as the cloth

concealed every thing as well as the countenance of the fair lady, I

did not discover the contrivance. The costume of the unveiled portion

of the sex had likewise undergone a change; and they wore wide blue

trowsers, tightly tied at the ankle, which taper down, and have a

graceful appearance. A web of cloth sixty yards long is sometimes used

in a single pair, for one fold falls upon the other.

~Arrival at Rotas.~

On the 1st of March we reached the celebrated fort of Rotas, considered

to be one of the great bulwarks between Tartary and India. As we wound

through the dismal defiles, and might be ruminating on the various

expeditions which had traversed this very road, the fort burst upon our

view like the scene of a magic lantern. It had been hidden from us by

towering precipices. We approached its ponderous walls by a straggling

path which time had chiselled in the rock, and soon reached its lofty

gateway. The black hoary aspect of the fort, and the arid sterility

of the surrounding rocks, inspired us with no favourable idea of the

neighbourhood, which has been the resort of many a desperate band.

We had omitted to provide ourselves with Runjeet Sing’s order for

admission into this fortress; but we proceeded to the gateway, as a

matter of course, and after a parley the doors were thrown open. The

official permission arrived from Lahore on the following day.

~Fortress.~

We soon found ourselves among friends, and listened to the tales of the

veterans without any fear of witnessing the scenes of their ancestors.

The Afghan officers of the Mogul empire under the Emperor Humaioon

dethroned that monarch, and fortified themselves in Rotas, in the year

1531. Shere Shah was its founder. Twelve years, and some millions of

rupees, are said to have been wasted in its construction; yet it was

betrayed, and fell. Humaioon returned from his wanderings with the

auxiliaries of Iran, and recovered the kingdom of his forefathers.

He commanded that the fort of Rotas should be levelled; but so massy

are its walls, and so strong is the whole edifice, that his Ameers

and Oomrahs ventured to ask his majesty, whether he came to recover

his throne or destroy a single fort, since the one undertaking would

require as much energy as the other. Humaioon contented himself with

levelling a palace and a gateway as the monument of his conquest,

and prudently marched to Delhi. We examined its walls and outworks,

its gateways and bastions: and the people pointed out to us the

orifices for pouring oil on the besiegers. We viewed with admiration

the elaborate loopholes for the matchlock, the deep wells cut in the

live rock, and the bomb-proof magazines of the fortification. From

one of the towers we had a commanding view of the plain, in which we

could distinguish a spacious caravansary, the work of the generous and

tolerant Akbar. He here eclipsed his father Humaioon as much as he did

in all the acts of his protracted reign. The son raised an edifice

to shelter the weary traveller in his pilgrimage; the parent, full

of wrath, wasted a greater sum in the demolition of a palace. These

caravansaries have been erected at every stage as far west as the

Indus; and the traveller cannot pass them without a pleasurable feeling

at the enlightened design of their founder. The Emperor Akbar was a

philanthropist.

~Nature and formation of rocks.~

From Rotas we entered into a mountainous and rugged country of great

strength, and our road lay in ravines. The chaos of rocks, their

vertical strata, terminating in needles from decomposition, the round

pebbles that lay imbedded in the sandstone, and the wild scenery, made

this an interesting neighbourhood. Humboldt mentions somewhere, that

deposits of rock-salt and mineral springs manifest some connection with

volcanoes; and among these hills we had both. One may almost convince

himself of the upheavings of nature, from a glance at the rock. Though

generally vertical, it may be observed in some places to descend upon

the ravines, as if the one half of the hill had been suddenly raised,

or the other as suddenly depressed. Water is abundant in the ravines,

and is also found in wells at a depth of thirty-five feet. To our right

we could see the spot at which the Jelum or Hydaspes issues from the

mountains. It is called Damgully. There is no route into the valley of

Cashmeer by this river; and the most frequented one lies by Meerpoor

and Poonch, about twelve miles to the eastward. Near the point where

the Jelum enters the plain, there is an isolated rock about sixty feet

high, called Raoka, which may be ascended by steps. A Mohammedan saint

resides on it. In searching for an obelisk called Rawjee, mentioned by

Mr. Elphinstone, we heard of Raoka; but since it only appeared to be a

detached portion of rock, we did not visit it.

~Tope of Manikyala.~

~Coins and antiques.~

On the 6th of March we reached the village of Manikyala, at which there

is a singular “_tope_” or mound of masonry. It has been described by

Mr. Elphinstone, who gives a correct drawing of it; and tells us, that

“it was, indeed, as like Grecian architecture as any building which

Europeans, in remote parts of the country, could now construct by the

hands of unpractised native builders.”[11] It has been lately opened by

M. Ventura, a general in Runjeet Sing’s service. We are much indebted

to that gentleman, since his labours were conducted at considerable

expense and trouble. Through the kindness of my friend M. Allard, I had

an opportunity of looking at the reliques which that officer found. A

brief description of them has been published in the Researches of the

Asiatic Society of Bengal; but I may here observe that they consist

of three cylindrical boxes of gold, pewter (or some mixed metal),

and iron, which were found cased within one another, and placed in a

chamber cut in a large block of stone at the foundation of the pile.

The gold box is about three inches long and an inch and a half in

diameter, filled with a black dirty substance like mud, half liquid,

and mixed up with small pieces of glass or amber; which would suggest

an opinion of its once being cased in a glass that had been fractured

and shivered. Among this substance, two coins or medals were found:

the smaller one is of gold, and about the size of a sixpence, having

a human figure, and the four-pronged instrument which marks all the

Manikyala coins; the other has two lines of rude character, probably

Hindee, on one side, and no writing or symbol on the reverse. Many

other coins and reliques were found during the opening of the tope;

and the people informed me that some human bones had been disinterred.

On my arrival at Manikyala, I had an opportunity of appreciating the

valuable services of M. Ventura, by a personal inspection of the

“tope,” which his persevering labour has now laid open. That gentleman

had first endeavoured to enter the building from below, but failed on

account of the great solidity of the structure. Further observation

had discovered to him that there was a shaft or well (if I can use the

expression) descending into the building from the top; and here M.

Ventura dug with success. He first cleared the well, which reaches half

way down, and is flagged at the bottom with large blocks of stone. He

then completed his work by tearing up these enormous blocks till he

reached the foundation, where he was rewarded by finding the cylinders

which I have described, as well as a variety of coins, which have been

forwarded to Paris, but are yet undeciphered.

In a place of such celebrity I did not expect to find my search for

coins and antiques rewarded beyond the most sanguine expectations,

since none are mentioned to have been seen by the gentlemen of the

Cabool mission. I procured two antiques and seventy copper coins. The

value of the latter is much heightened by their corresponding with

those found in the interior of the tope by M. Ventura. One of the

antiques is a ruby or red crystal, cut in the shape of a head, with

a frightful countenance and very long ears; while the other is an

oval cornelian, with the figure of a female holding out a flower, and

gracefully dressed in a mantle. The execution is superior.[12] I shall

notice these coins hereafter, having presented some of them to the

Asiatic Society of Bengal, and received the most ample return from Mr.

James Prinsep, its able secretary, in various notes regarding them.

~Manikyala supposed to be Taxilla.~

I was much struck with the position of Manikyala, for it stands on a

spacious plain, and the “tope” is to be distinguished at a distance of

sixteen miles. Various surmises have been thrown out regarding this

site, but I do not hesitate to fix upon it as Taxilla, since Arrian

expressly tells us that “that was the most populous city _between_

the Indus and Hydaspes;” which is the exact position of Manikyala. M.

Ventura decides on it as Bucephalia, from a derivation that interprets

Manikyala to mean the city of the horse; but this is not founded on

history, as Bucephalia stood on the banks of the Hydaspes, and, I

believe, I have already described its true position.

I shall describe the “tope” of Belur, which we afterwards visited,

before I give any conclusion regarding these buildings.

~Rawil Pindee.~

We reached Rawil Pindee on the 7th, and alighted at the house which

the ex-King of Cabool built in his exile. It was a miserable hovel.

The town of Rawil Pindee is agreeable; and we were pleased to find

the mountains covered with snow, and but twelve miles distant. Some

specimens of crystalised sulphur, in its native state, were brought to

me from these hills; and there is a town among them called Porewala,

which led me to think that it might have some relation to the renowned

Porus of the Hydaspes.

~Marks of quitting India. Hurdwar pilgrims. Reflections on seeing them.~

We were now fast leaving Hindoostan and its customs behind us. The

dandelion had become a common weed. At Manikyala, we halted next door

to a bakery, where the whole bread of the village is cooked. How much

more sensible is this custom, than that every family should prepare

it separately, as in India, and live in perpetual terror of defilement

from one another. We were glad to be considered customers of the

village oven. On our road we met a numerous body of Afghans, and also

Hindoo pilgrims, crowding from beyond the Indus to the great religious

fair of Hurdwar: they looked more like Mohammedans than the followers

of Brahma. The festival occurs every twelve years, and distance serves

to increase the devotion of the pilgrim. The sight of these people

from beyond the Indus gave rise to many curious sensations. We wore

their dress, and they knew us not; we received their salutations as

countrymen, and could not participate in their feelings. Some of them

would ask, as we passed, whether we were going to Cabool or Candahar;

and from their looks and questions, I found many a secret and doubtful

thrill pass across me. This I found to arise from the novelty of our

situation, for it soon wore off after we mingled familiarly with

the people; and, in course of time, I gave and returned the usual

salutations with all the indifference of a practised traveller.

~Seik priest.~

At Rawil Pindee we had a visit from the government officers, among whom

was a Seik priest, or Bedee, who had taken the singular vow, never

to repeat three or four words without the name of “Vishnu,” one of

the Gods of the Hindoo Trinity. His conversation was, therefore, most

remarkable; for, on all subjects, and in all answers, he so interlarded

the words “Vishnu, Vishnu,” that I could not suppress a smile. This

personage presented us with a purse of 200 rupees; but it appeared to

come from Vishnu, and not from the Maharaja Runjeet Sing.

~Pass of Margulla.~

About fifteen miles from Rawil Pindee, we passed the defile of

Margulla, and descried with joy the mountains beyond the Indus. This is

a narrow pass over the low hills, and paved with blocks of stone for

150 yards. A Persian inscription, let into the rock, commemorates the

fame of the civilised Emperor who cut the road. The defiles continue

for about a mile; when a bridge across a rivulet conducts the traveller

to the next caravansary. A bridge, a caravansary, and a road cut

through a hill, and within a distance of two miles, bespeak a different

rule from that of the Punjab in modern times. We continued our march

to Osman, about twenty miles from Rawil Pindee. It stands on a plain,

at the mouth of a valley, close to the base of the outlying hills.

Its meadows are watered by the most beautiful and crystal rivulets,

that flow from the mountains. Some of them are conducted by artificial

means through the village, and turn little water mills that grind

flour. Up the valley stands the fort of Khanpoor, with some beautiful

gardens; and over it snow-clad mountains rear their peaks. The fields

of this fruitful valley lie neglected, from the exorbitant assessment

of the person who farms it. The peasants have no hope of redress but

by such an expedient; and this entire suspension of the labours of the

husbandmen may open the understanding of the misguided governor.

[Illustration: TOPE OF BELUR.]

~Tope of Belur.~

We visited Osman, which is about four miles from the King’s road, at

the base of the lower Hemilaya, to examine a mound or “tope,” like that

of Manikyala, which stands on the nook of a range of hills near the

ruined village of Belur, about a mile beyond Osman. The construction

of the building, as depicted in the annexed sketch, gives it to the

same era as that of Manikyala. Neither of the buildings are perfect;

and the one now delineated differs from the other in the greater length

of the shaft. It is fifty feet high, or about two thirds of the height

of Manikyala. It has also been opened, and the square aperture formed

of cut stone has descended into the building. The small pilasters are

likewise to be recognised, but the mouldings are more numerous, and the

general outline of the building somewhat different. The “tope” of Belur

is a conspicuous object, from its elevated situation, but I could not

gather a tradition regarding it from the numerous population. Like one

in search of the philosopher’s stone, I was led from place to place,

and now learned that there were two buildings similar to these “topes,”

beyond the Indus, between Peshawur and Cabool. We also discovered the

ruins of another tope, three miles eastward of Rawil Pindee. The few

coins which I found at the tope of Belur were of the same type as

those already described. Seeing that both the structures of Manikyala

and Belur are pierced by a shaft that descends into the building, I

incline to a belief, that in these “topes” we have the tombs of a race

of princes who once reigned in Upper India, and that they are either

the sepulchres of the Bactrian kings, or their Indo-Scythic successors,

mentioned in the Periplus of the second Arrian. The rudeness of the

coins would point to the latter age, or second century of the Christian

era.

~Garden of Hoosn Abdall.~

From the beautiful rivulets of Osman we passed down the valley, and,

after a march of seven miles, found ourselves in the garden of Hoosn

Abdall,--a spot which attracted the munificent Emperors of Hindoostan.

It is situated between two bare and lofty hills, whose brown and

naked tops do not contribute much to its beauty; still it must be

an enchanting place in the hot months. The garden houses are now

mouldering to decay, and weeds hide the flowers and roses; yet the

peach and apricot trees glowed with blossom, the vines clung to their

branches, and the limpid water gushed in torrents from the rock. Some

hundred springs rise in the limit of this small garden, and, after

washing its beds, pay their tribute to a brook which passes on to the

Indus. They form pools, which are stored with fish, that may be seen

darting about in the clear water. The spring had commenced when we

visited this delightful place. As we passed it, our view opened upon

the valley of Drumtour, that leads to Cashmeer; and the range of hills

at Puklee, covered with snow, were to be traced in chain with more

lofty mountains beyond them. The fertile plain of Chuch and Huzara

also lay before us.

~See the Indus.~

We came in sight of the Indus, at a distance of fifteen miles. It could

be traced from its exit through the lower hills to the fort of Attok,

by the vapour which hung over it like smoke. As the water of the Indus

is much colder than the atmosphere, it may account for this phenomenon.

We encamped at Huzroo, which is a mart between Peshawur and Lahore. The

people were now quite changed; they were Afghans, and spoke Pooshtoo. I

was struck with their manly mien, and sat down with delight on a felt,

with an Afghan, who civilly invited me to converse with him. I did not

regret to exchange the cringing servility of the Indians for the more

free and independent manners of Cabool. An itinerant goldsmith, who had

heard of our intended journey to Bokhara, came and chatted with us. He

had travelled there, and even in Russia; and showed us a copper copec

which he had brought with him on his return. He spoke of the equity and

justice of the people among whom we were to travel, which made this

rambling jeweller a welcome visiter. He was a Hindoo.

~Encamp on the Indus.~

On the morning of the 14th of March, we had the pleasure of encamping

on the banks of the Indus, with the troops of Runjeet Sing, now on the

frontier, under Sirdar Huree Sing. That chief came to meet us with

all the forms of eastern pomp, and conducted us to a comfortable suite

of tents which he had prepared for us. On our march to the river, we

passed the field of battle where the Afghans made their last stand,

now some twenty years ago, on the eastern side of the Indus. They were

commanded by the Vizier Futteh Khan, who fled, panic struck, though

not defeated. A horde, as numerous as that of Xerxes or Timour, might

encamp on this spacious plain, which is an entire sheet of cultivation.

It was covered with rounded stones, (many of which were granite,)--an

unerring proof of the agency of water. We visited our host, the

commandant, who welcomed us with his troops and officers in array, and

gave us the cordial reception of friends. Our conversation turned on

the warlike deeds of Runjeet, and his passing the Indus both with and

without a ford. We grew interested in the subject, and soon made up our

minds to, at least, make the attempt of fording this great river.

~Ford the Indus.~

We mounted one of the chief’s elephants, and, accompanied by himself

and 200 horsemen, passed a few miles down the river to the village of

Khyrakhuel, about five miles above Attok. The stream was here divided

into three branches, and in the two first gushed with amazing violence.

I did not like the appearance of the torrent; and, though I said

nothing, would have willingly turned back; but how could that be, when

I had been the foremost to propose it? The chief rallied his escort

round him, threw a piece of silver money into the river, according to

custom, and dashed into it. We followed, and the whole of our party

reached in safety. While on the island, and preparing to enter the

principal branch, a melancholy accident occurred to some stragglers

who attempted to follow us. They were seven in number; and, instead of

crossing at the exact point where we had effected the passage, they

passed a few yards lower down, with the water but knee deep, yet very

rapid. The whole seven were unhorsed in a moment, and swept into the

stream. The ferrymen ran to their assistance, and extricated them all

but one poor fellow and two horses, whom we could see struggle, and

at last sink. The others were rescued with great difficulty, and two

of them were all but dead. We were shocked at the catastrophe, and

proposed to return, but the chief would not listen to it. He gave a

laugh, and said, “What know ye, that these fellows (we thought they had

all gone) may be kings in another world; and what is the use of a Seik

if he cannot pass the Attok?” (Indus). The principal branch, however,

was still in our front; and I only agreed to cross if the horsemen

were left behind. “Leave my guard,” cried the chief, “impossible!” but

we did leave it, and safely passed the ford. The footing was slippery,

and the current shot with great rapidity: the colour of the water was

blue, and it was exceedingly cold, which makes it trying to both man

and beast. The elephants pressed up against the stream, and roared

as we advanced. The excitement of such an undertaking is great, and

would have been exhilarating, had not our joy been dimmed by such a

calamity. This ford has often been used by the Seiks, but the passage

has involved many serious accidents.

~Story of a soldier.~

A tale of a desperate soldier was here related to me, as having

occurred at Lahore. He was a native of Hindoostan, and had murdered the

adjutant of the regiment in which he was serving, in Runjeet’s army. An

example was called for in the support of discipline; but Runjeet Sing

has never shed blood since he attained his throne, and refused to put

him to death, though urged to it by the French officers. The hands of

the culprit were ordered to be amputated on the parade ground, before

the troops, and were chopped off by an axe; the hemorrhage was arrested

by immersing the stump in burning oil. The hands were nailed on a

board, as a warning to the army, and the unfortunate man was dismissed

with ignominy. A comrade conducted him to a ruined mosque, where he

passed the night, but his spirit forbade him to survive his disgrace,

and he resolved on committing suicide. Next day he threw himself into

the river (Ravee): his resolution was shaken, and instead of drowning

himself, he crossed the river, swimming with his handless stumps!

~Attok.~

We now proceeded to the fortress of Attok, which stands on a black

slaty ridge, at the verge of the Indus, the “forbidden river” of the

Hindoos. It was, indeed, a forbidden one to us, for the garrison had

mutinied, ejected their officers, and seized upon the ferry-boats.

Their arrears of pay were not forthcoming, and they had taken this

means of informing Runjeet of their grievances. It was in vain that we

produced the most peremptory orders, to receive us inside the walls,

and show us the curiosities of the place; they replied, that our

complaints would now be heard, since the Maharaja will know of their

ill treatment towards us. Since they evinced no further contumacy, we

halted outside, in a dilapidated mosque, and were not molested. It was

useless to parley with irritated men, and I thought we were fortunate

in prevailing on them, after a detention of two days, to give us a

boat, in which we were ferried across the grand boundary of India, on

the afternoon of the 17th of March. The water was azure blue, and the

current exceeded six miles an hour. We passed in four minutes. About

200 yards above Attok, and before the Indus is joined by the Cabool

river, it gushes over a rapid with amazing fury. Its breadth does not

here exceed 120 yards; the water is much ruffled, and dashes like the

waves and spray of the ocean. It hisses and rolls with a loud noise,

and exceeds the rate of ten miles in the hour. A boat cannot live in

this tempestuous torrent; but after the Cabool river has joined it,

the Indus passes in a tranquil stream, about 260 yards wide and 35

fathoms deep, under the walls of Attok. This fortress is a place of no

strength: it has a population of about 2000 souls.

~Phenomenon at Attok.~

Before crossing the Indus, we observed a singular phenomenon at the

fork of the Indus and Cabool river, where an ignis fatuus shows itself

every evening. Two, three, and even four bright lights, are visible at

a time, and continue to shine throughout the night, ranging within a

few yards of each other. The natives could not account for them, and

their continuance during the rainy season is the most inexplicable

part of the phenomenon, in their estimation. They tell you, that the

valiant Man Sing, a Rajpoot, who carried his war of revenge against the

Mahommedans across the Indus, fought a battle in this spot; and that

the lights now seen are the spirits of the departed. I should not have

credited the constancy of this will-o’-the-wisp, had I not seen it. It

may arise from the reflection of the water on the rock, smoothed by the

current: but then it only shows itself on a particular spot, and the

whole bank is smoothed. It may also be an exhalation of some gas from a

fissure in the rock, but its position prevented our examining it.

~Washing gold.~

We found the fishermen on the Indus and Cabool river washing the sand

for gold. The operation is performed with most profit after the swell

has subsided. The sand is passed through a sieve, and the larger

particles that remain are mixed with quicksilver, to which the metal

adheres. Some of the minor rivers, such as the Swan and Hurroo, yield

more gold than the Indus; and as their sources are not remote, it would

show that the ores lie on the southern side of the Hemilaya.

FOOTNOTES:

[9] Vide Introduction, vol. i. p. 58.

[10] Vide Mr. Ramsay’s evidence before the Committee of the Lords.

[11] Introduction to Elphinstone’s Caubul, page 131.

[12] It is with regret that I record the loss of these antiques, though

impressions of them have been preserved.