Sailing Due West.--The Indian Ocean.--Strange Sights at
Sea.--Island of Ceylon.--Singhalese Canoes.--Colombo.--A Land of
Slaves.--Native Town.--Singhalese Women.--Fantastic Nurses.--Local
Pictures.--Cinnamon Gardens.--Wild Elephants.--Lavishness of
Tropical Nature.--Curious Birds and their Nests.--Ancient
Kandy.--Temple of Maligawan.--Religious Ceremonies.--Life of the
Natives.--Inland Scenery.--Fruits.--Precious Stones.--Coffee
Plantations.--Great Antiquity of Ceylon.
After leaving Penang our course lay due west across the Indian Ocean, on
a line of about the tenth degree of north latitude; the objective point
being the island of Ceylon. We sighted the Andaman Islands as we passed,
more than one of which has the reputation of being inhabited by
cannibals; and as a matter of course some of the passengers became witty
over the second-hand jokes about roasted missionary. The rains which we
encountered in this equatorial region were so profuse, and yielded such
a marvelous downpour of water as to almost deluge us, and set the inside
of the good steamship Brindisi afloat. But the air was soft and balmy,
the nights gloriously serene and bright, so that it was even more
refreshing, more restful than slumber, to lie awake upon the
quarter-deck, and gazing idly among the clustering stars, to build
castles in the limpid atmosphere while watching the fleecy clouds
floating across the gleaming planets, as a lovely woman's veil covers
her luminous eyes for an instant only to vivify their splendor.
In the daytime large sea-turtles came to the surface of the water to
sun themselves, stretching their awkward necks to get sight of our hull.
Big schools of dolphins played their gambols about the ship, darting
bodily out of the water, and pitching in again head foremost, no doubt
holding their breath when submerged in atmospheric air, as a diver does
when he plunges into the sea. Flying-fish were so numerous as to cease
to be a curiosity, often skimming on board in their awkward attempts at
aerial navigation, and being caught by the crew. As it is known that a
light will attract these delicate little sea-moths at night, sailors
sometimes extend a bit of canvas on a pole from a forward port, in the
shape of a scoop, and placing a lantern above it, gather quite a mess of
them in a brief time. One morning the cook brought himself into special
notice by giving us a fry of the self-immolated creatures. Large
watersnakes appeared at the surface now and again, raising their slimy
heads a couple of feet or more above the waves. These have been known to
board sailing ships by means of a stray rope left dragging in the water,
or through an open port near the surface of the sea. But they would
hardly attempt such feats with a swift gliding steamer, even if a
trailing rope were to offer them the chance. Now and then the ship would
sail for an hour or more through a prolific drift of that queer,
indolent bit of animal life, the jelly-fish. How these waters teemed
with life! Every school-boy knows that the ocean covers three quarters
of the globe, but how few realize that it represents more of organic
life than does the land. It is a world in itself, immense and mighty,
affording a home for countless and manifold forms of life. We are
indebted to it for every drop of water distributed over our hills,
plains, and valleys, for from the ocean it has arisen by evaporation to
return again through myriads of channels. It is a misnomer to speak of
the sea as a desert waste: it is teeming with inexhaustible animal and
vegetable life. A German scientist has, with unwearied industry, secured
and classified over five hundred distinct species of fishes from this
very division of the Indian Ocean; many of which are characterized by
colors as gay and various as those of tropical birds and flowers. Mirage
played us strange tricks, in the way of optical delusion, in these
regions. We seemed constantly to be approaching land that was never
reached, and which, after assuming the undulating shore-lines of a
well-defined coast, at the moment when we should fairly make it, faded
into thin air. Sometimes at night the marvelous phosphorescence of the
sea was fascinating to behold, the crest of each wave and ripple became
a small cascade of fire, and the motion of the ship through her native
element seemed as though sailing through flames. The scientific methods
of accounting for this effect are familiar, but hardly satisfactory to
those who have watched this phenomenon in both hemispheres. We began,
nevertheless, to experience somewhat of the monotony of sea life,
although the most was made of trivial occurrences; for out of the
hundred days which we had been traveling since leaving Boston, nearly
fifty had been passed upon various seas and oceans.
The voyage from Penang to Ceylon covers a distance of about thirteen
hundred miles. We sighted the island on Sunday, December 24th, and
landed at Colombo on the following day, which was Christmas. When we
rounded the seaward end of the substantial breakwater now building, over
which the lofty waves were making a clean breach, five of the large and
noble steamships of the P. and O. line were seen moored in the harbor,
making this a port of call on their way to or from India, China, or
Australia. As the anchor-chain rattled through the hawser-hole, and the
Brindisi felt the restraint of her land-tackle, we were surrounded by
half a hundred native boats, most of which were Singhalese canoes, of
such odd construction as to merit a special description. They are
peculiar to these seas, being designed to enable the occupant to venture
out, however rough the water may chance to be, and the surf is always
raging in these open roadsteads. The canoe consists of the trunk of a
tree hollowed out, some twenty feet in length, having long planks
fastened lengthwise so as to form the sides or gunwales of the boat,
which is two feet and a half deep and two feet wide. An outrigger,
consisting of a log of wood about one third the size of the canoe, is
fastened alongside at a distance of some six or eight feet, by two
arched poles of well-seasoned bamboo. This outrigger prevents any
possibility of upsetting the boat; but without it so narrow a craft
could not remain upright even in the calmest sea. The natives face any
weather in those little vessels.
There was a pretense made of examining our baggage by the custom-house
officers, but this was simply for form's sake, and then the trunks were
put into a two-wheeled canvas-covered cart, drawn by a couple of
milk-white oxen, and we walked beside them a short distance to the
hotel. It was observed that the driver of the bullocks had no whip, and
the circumstance was set down in favor of humanity; but it soon
appeared that the fellow had a resort of another sort whereby to urge on
his cattle, namely, he twisted their tails, compared to which whipping
would have been to them a luxury. As we at once objected to the
tail-twisting operation, the native gave it up and behaved himself with
humanity. The sun, meantime, was doing its best to roast us, and we were
only too happy to get under the shelter of the hotel piazza. We were
waited upon with prompt regard to our necessities, and assigned to
comfortable apartments. The rooms were divided by partitions which did
not reach to the ceiling, the upper portion being left open for
ventilation; a style of building peculiar to the climate, but not
calculated to afford much more privacy than the Japan paper partitions
in the tea-houses. But the hotel at Colombo was a very good one in all
of its belongings, and the table excellent. While we sat at our meals,
in the spacious dining-hall, long lines of punkas, or suspended fans,
were worked by pulleys running outside, so that during these hours we
were comfortable, notwithstanding the heat.
This island, situated just off the southern point of India, stands in
the same relation to it that Madagascar does to Africa, and is very
ancient in its historical associations, having been in the prime of its
glory four hundred years before the coming of Christ, and how far back
of that period its history extends is only problematical. It is
separated from the continent by a strait called the Gulf of Manar, and
is about the size of Massachusetts; containing, also, nearly the same
aggregate population. It is believed to be the Ophir of the Hebrews,
abounding as it does, to-day, in precious stones, such as rubies,
sapphires, amethysts, garnets, and various mineral wealth. It is also,
taken as a whole, one of the most beautiful regions of the world; the
very gem of the equatorial region.
The English government have here large and admirably arranged barracks,
suitable for the housing of a small army, the troops numbering at this
writing between three and four thousand; but more than double that
number can be provided for in the broad, open buildings, specially
adapted to the service and the climate. The object is undoubtedly to
maintain at this point a military depot, with which to supply troops in
an emergency to India or elsewhere in the East. But it should be
remembered that Ceylon, though a British colony, is quite separate from
that of India, so near at hand. It is presided over by a governor,
appointed by the Queen of England, an executive council of five, and a
legislative council of fifteen. For the first time since landing in the
East, we saw no Chinese. They ceased at Penang; for Chinamen, like some
species of birds, move in flocks; they never straggle. There is here a
sprinkling of Nubians, but the general population is Singhalese, with
whom are seen mingled Arabs, Javanese, Afghans, Kaffirs, and Syrian
Jews, these last with their hair in ringlets like young school-girls.
The subjugated appearance of the common people is disagreeably apparent.
In Japan, the submissiveness and humility of the population is
voluntary, for they are a free and independent race after all; but here
the natives are the merest slaves, realizing their humble status only
too plainly. They call all white people "master" when addressing them:
"Yes, master," or "No, master," "Will master have this or that?" They
would not dare to resent it if they were knocked down by a white man.
The English government provides means for the education of the rising
generation in the form of free schools; and the English language is very
generally spoken by the common people. This is wise, for even in her
colonial possessions she must multiply schools, or prisons will multiply
themselves.
The police arrangements of Colombo are excellent. Notwithstanding the
singular variety of nationalities, one sees no outbreaks; there is no
visible impropriety of conduct, no contention or intoxication, quiet and
repose reign everywhere. Though the ancient Pettah, or Black Town,
inhabited solely by the natives, is not a very attractive place to
visit, and though it is characterized by dirt and squalor, still it is
quiet and orderly, presenting many objects of interest as illustrating
the domestic life of the Singhalese. The same indolence and want of
physical energy is observable among them as was noted in the Malays at
Penang and Singapore. Man is but a plant of a higher order. In the
tropics he is born of fruitful stock and of delicate fibre; in the north
his nature partakes of the hardihood of the oak and cedar. The
thermometer indicated about 90 deg. in the shade during the week we
remained at Ceylon, rendering it absolutely necessary to avoid the sun.
Only the thinnest of clothing is bearable, and one half envied the nudity
of the natives who could be no more thinly clad unless they took off
their bronzed skins.
We made our home in Colombo at the Grand Oriental Hotel, kept by an
Englishman. The servants were natives, but well-trained, and all spoke
English. Each wore a white turban and a single white cotton garment,
cut like a gentleman's dressing-gown, extending below the knee, and
confined at the waist by a sash, thus being decently clothed. It was
curious to sit on the piazza and watch the out-door scenes as they
presented themselves to the eye. The women were strange objects, with
silver and brass jewelry stuck through the tops and bottoms of their
ears, through their nostrils and lips, their toes being covered with
small silver coins attached to rings, and their ankles, fingers, and
wrists similarly covered, but with scarcely any clothing upon their
bodies. Both men and women frequently have their arms, legs, and bodies
tattooed with red and black ink, representing grotesque figures and
strange devices,--these pictorial illustrations on their copper-colored
skins reminding one of illumined text on vellum. Like most Eastern
nations, they do not sit down when fatigued, but squat on their heels to
rest themselves, or when eating,--a position which no person not
accustomed to it can assume for one instant without pain. The men wear
their hair done up in a singular manner, combed back from the forehead
and held in place by a circular shell comb, giving them an especially
effeminate appearance; but the women wear nothing of the comb kind in
their hair, their abundant braids being well plaited and confined by
long metallic pins with mammoth heads. Some of the women are pretty, and
would be almost handsome, if their ears and lips and noses were not so
distorted; as it is, they have fine upright figures, and the dignified
walk that so distinguishes their Egyptian sisters.
These women are very generally employed as nurses by the English
officers' wives, and children seem to take very kindly to them, their
nature being gentle and affectionate. But these nurses seem to form a
class by themselves, and the taste for cheap jewelry could hardly be
carried to a greater extent than it is with them. They are got up in the
"loudest" style; after the idea of the Roman women similarly employed,
or those one meets with children in the gardens of the Louvre at Paris,
or the Prado at Madrid. The Singhalese nurses wear a white linen chemise
covering the body, except the breast, to the knee, with a blue cut-away
velvet jacket, covered with silver braid and buttons, open in front, a
scarlet sash gathering the chemise at the waist. The legs and feet are
bare, the ankles and toes covered with rings, and the ears heavy,
weighed down, and deformed with them. These, like their sisters of the
masses, often have their nostrils and lower lips perforated by metallic
hoops of brass or silver, and sometimes of gold; to which is often added
a necklace of bright sea-shells mixed with shark's teeth, completing the
oddest outfit that can well be conceived of for a human being. Savagery
tinctured with civilization. The native children of six, eight, and ten,
were subjects of particular interest, the boys especially, who were
remarkably handsome, clean-limbed, with skins shining like satin, and
brown as hazel nuts. These boys and girls have large, brilliant, and
intensely black eyes, with a promise of good intelligence, but their
possibilities remain unfulfilled amid such associations as they are born
to. They soon subside into languid, sensuous creatures.
As we sat shaded by the broad piazza in the midday, the native jugglers
and snake-charmers would come, and, squatting in the blazing sun, beg us
to give heed to their tricks. They are singularly clever, these Indian
mountebanks, especially in sleight of hand tricks. The serpents which
they handle with such freedom are of the deadly cobra species, fatally
poisonous when their fangs penetrate the flesh, though doubtless when
exhibited in this manner they have been deprived of their natural means
of defense. True to their native instinct, however, these cobras were
more than once seen to strike at the bare arms and legs of the
performers. Rooks, of which there were thousands about the house, flew
in and out at the open doors and windows, after their own free will,
lighting confidently on the back of one's chair and trying the texture
of his coat with their sharp bills. No one molests them here or makes
them afraid. They are far tamer than are domestic fowls in America, for
they are never killed and eaten like hens and chickens. A Singhalese's
religion will not permit him to kill anything, except wild beasts in
self-defense. The vegetation is what might be expected within so few
miles of the equator: beautiful and prolific in the extreme. The
cinnamon fields are so thrifty as to form a wilderness of green, though
growing but four or five feet in height, and a drive through them was
like a poetical inspiration.
The cinnamon bush is a species of laurel, and bears a white, scentless
flower, which is succeeded by a small, oblong berry, scarcely as large
as a pea. The spice of commerce is the inner bark of the shrub, the
branches of which are cut and peeled twice in the course of the
year,--say about Christmas and midsummer. The plantations resemble a
thick, tangled copse, without any regularity, and require no
cultivation, after being once set out; though by close trimming the
strength is thrown downward, and the shrub is thought to render a better
crop. The raising of the spice was once a government monopoly, but all
restrictions are now removed, and the plantations near to Colombo are
private property. In driving through them--for they are miles in extent,
and are poetically called cinnamon gardens--we tried in vain to detect
the perfume derived from cinnamon; far too decided and pungent to be
mistaken for aught else. It is not the bloom nor the berry which throws
off this scent, but the wounded bark in process of being gathered at the
semi-annual harvest. These cinnamon fields were very sweet and fragrant;
there was the perfume of flowers in the air, but not even poetical
license could attribute it to the cinnamon.
The wide-spread coffee plantations were much more attractive to the eye,
the cultivation of which forms one of the principal industries of the
island, supplemented by the raising and exporting of rice, tea,
cocoanuts, pine-apples, plumbago, and precious stones. Ceylon, at one
time, almost rivaled Java in the production of coffee; statistics
showing that her export of the berry reached the large amount of a
million hundred-weight per annum, before it was suddenly checked by the
leaf disease, which has impoverished so many of the local planters.
Among its wild animals are elephants, deer, monkeys, bears, and
panthers,--fine specimens of which are preserved in the excellent museum
near Colombo. Pearl oysters abound on the coast, and some superb
specimens of this beautiful jewel have been found here, while no shore
is richer in the variety and quality of its finny tribe. Game birds,
especially of aquatic sorts, prevail.
Specimens of the ebony, satin-wood, and celamendar-trees were met with,
the latter the most highly prized of all cabinet woods, growing in wild
luxuriance, surrounded by palms, bamboos, fragrant balsams, tall ferns,
and the india-rubber-tree, large and lofty, with a majority of its
anaconda-like roots lying above the surface of the ground. Here and
there we came upon dark, shady pools, covered with the blooming lotus,
like our pond-lilies, except that they are much larger. The floral
display was fascinating. Nature seemed to revel in blossoms of various,
and, to us, unknown species. While some large and brilliant flowers
bloomed on trees, others, very lovely and sweet, caught the eye among
the prolific undergrowth. Vivid colors flashed before the observer,
caused by the blue and scarlet plumage of the feathered tribe among the
branches of the trees, some with pleasant trilling voices, and others
uttering harsh, shrill, unfamiliar cries. The variety of birds was a
very marked feature of this tropical region. The keen voice of the
Ceylon thrush rang in our ears like the scream of a young child. Many
other smaller birds were seen in rainbow feathers; and a sparrow, like
his English brother, except that the Ceylon species wear a white shirt
bosom.
The difference between a tropical forest and that of our temperate zone,
which at once challenges the notice of the traveler, is that trees of
the same families do not characterize any particular spot. We have pine
forests, oak forests, cedar, birch, and maple woods, and the like; but a
tropical forest contains specimens of the most widely different classes,
with every possible variety of family; and the same may be said of the
countless climbing plants which cling to the vertical trunks. The
various kinds of the palm are sure to assert their predominance
everywhere in the wooded districts and jungles of the tropics, yielding
an abundance of their valuable fruits. But at the north, to see a peach
or apple-tree bearing fruit in a pine grove, or fruitful cherry and
pear-trees among a forest of oaks, would cause surprise. It is, after
all, only a peculiarity born of the wonderful vegetable productiveness
of the equatorial region, which gives birth to fruits and flowers
wherever there is space to nourish their roots, and where moisture and
heat have no other outlet whereon to expend their fructifying powers.
The bread-fruit-tree is especially interesting, with its deeply
serrated, feathery leaves, and its melon-shaped fruit, weighing from
three to four pounds. This the natives prepare for eating in many ways,
and as the tree bears fruit continually for nine months of the year, it
forms a most important food supply. Two or three trees will support a
hearty man, and half a dozen, well cared for, will sustain a small
family, a portion of the fruit being dried and kept for the
non-producing months. The tree grows to nearly fifty feet in height, and
only requires a little attention,--no more than that marvel of
productiveness, the banana.
Here we saw, for the first time, the cardamom and pepper bushes full of
fruit, and the kitool-palm yielding its harvest of sugar, toddy, and
sago. The usual pests of the tropics were not wanting to balance all
these pleasant sights. Beetles, dragon-flies, cock-chafers, locusts,
wasps, and vicious spiders, were visible everywhere; while the
omnipresent mosquito was ever looking out for a victim. The curious nest
of the tailor-bird, which sews leaves together and builds a dainty nest
inside of them, was pointed out to us, and specimens of the weaver
bird's nest, with entrance tubes over two feet in length. There were
also pendent nests built by a species of wasp in the trees, which
indicated a nefarious design to infringe upon bird architecture. The
peacock is found wild here in all its wealth of mottled, feathery
splendor. Storks, ibises, and herons flew up from the lagoons, and the
cooing of the gentle wood-pigeon reached the ear during the quieter
moments. The woods, and indeed all out-doors at Ceylon, seemed like a
conservatory of exotic birds and flowers.
There is a well-equipped railroad extending from Colombo northward to
the small but ancient city of Kandy, running thus about seventy-five
miles into the very heart of the ancient native kingdom, and giving the
traveler an excellent opportunity to view the inland scenery, which, at
many points, is grand and imposing. Kandy is perched in a basin of the
mountains, two thousand feet above the level of the sea, surrounded by
thickly wooded hills; beyond which are broad plains and thick jungles,
which are very rarely penetrated, and which have not been explored,
probably, for centuries. Here wild elephants are to be met with in
herds. It will be remembered, that they are indigenous to Ceylon, and
from here Hindostan was supplied in the centuries that are gone, when
the huge animal was employed in such large numbers during the Mogul
reign. In those days there were elephant fights, when these animals,
like gladiators at Rome, were trained to single combats, or duels, fur
the pleasure of cruel masters; and such was their spirit that one or
both were always sacrificed on such occasions. We afterwards saw, in
India, the arenas where these gladiatorial contests took place, one of
which was located in the fort at Agra. A well-known peculiarity of this
animal is the fact that it is almost impossible to breed from them in a
domestic condition, thus rendering it necessary to replenish the ranks
from the jungle. In their wild state elephants are a prolific animal;
otherwise Ceylon would long since have been cleared of them, since
thousands have been imported from here into India within the last fifty
years. The Ceylon elephants prefer the low lying forests, but do not
confine themselves to them, ranging the hills to a height of six or
seven thousand feet, where the nights must be frosty and rather severe.
Their principal food is the leafage and young shoots of various trees,
the wild fig being a favorite. There are other trees of which they eat
the bark, and the young roots of the bamboo form a large source of their
food supply. Rice is, however, their favorite article of food, and they
often devastate whole plantations in a single night. It is fortunate
that the slightest fence will keep them away from any spot so protected:
a single blow of their trunks would destroy a bamboo fence, but they
never attempt it. Some idea, of which we can know nothing, possesses
them as it regards these frail fences. The male elephant in Ceylon gets
its full size at about twenty-two years, and is then about twelve feet
in height. We were told that they averaged about a hundred years of
life, but in India a much longer period is given them by general
calculation.
It has been found necessary to protect them by special law in Ceylon, as
European sportsmen came hither in such numbers after the large game,
that they threatened their extinction. There is now, therefore, a fine
of five hundred pounds imposed by government, as a penalty for killing
an elephant; but some rich English sportsmen kill their elephant and pay
the fine. It will be remembered that the Duke of Edinburgh visited the
island a few years since to participate in an elephant hunt, when great
preparations were made for him, and good success, from a sportsman's
point of view, was achieved. This style of hunting involves considerable
risk, and native beaters are liable to lose their lives in the business.
The animals found on the island seem to be quite a distinctive breed
from any other known race, and are noted for their intelligence, as well
as for their docility, after proper domestication. They are not so large
as those of Africa, but seem to be more highly prized in India. The
exportation, as we learned, still goes on in behalf of the English
government, sixteen hundred animals having thus been disposed of in the
five years ending in 1862, and about the same number in the intervening
time up to January, 1883, all of which went to India.
The principal object of interest at Kandy is the renowned and ancient
temple of Maligawa, where the sacred tooth of Buddha has been preserved
for more than fifteen hundred years. It is an indescribable old shrine
of irregular, low architecture, black and grimy with "the sacred rust of
twice ten hundred years," surrounded by a walled court and small stone
apartments. It is surmounted by a tower, manifestly European in design,
and which tells its own story as a modern addition. It is massive and
uncouth, so as hardly to admit of classification; though it must once
have been the central object of worship to a very large population, and
is held so sacred that the king and priests of Burmah and Siam still
send valuable presents to it annually. A sacred bo-tree was pointed out
to us in the grounds near the temple, believed to be the oldest
historical tree in the world. It is nearly allied to the banyan species,
and its record has been carefully kept since three hundred years
previous to the Christian era. The temple, though wearing a most
deserted and neglected aspect, is still in charge of a few yellow-robed
priests, who keep up an appearance daily of regular services, such as
they are, and more heathenish ones were never witnessed. The ceremonies
during our brief visit consisted of grotesque dancing, beating of drums,
and blowing upon a shrill fife before a rude altar, upon which incense
was burning. There was also marching, by these musicians, around the
altar, led by a dirty, blear-eyed priest. The scene was strongly
suggestive of a powwow as performed by the Digger Indians of California.
So great was the din, we were quite willing to take for granted the
presence, in another part of the temple, of the tooth of Buddha, without
personal inspection, and hastened to get away from the annoyance as soon
as possible. As we came out of the reeking, stuffy, infected building,
we expanded our lungs and umbrellas at one and the same time, for it was
"raining cats and dogs" just at that time, and when it rains near the
equator it does so in earnest; umbrellas become a fallacy: nothing less
than an india-rubber coat is of any avail. What an exhibition of mummery
it was in that time-begrimed temple! Ceylon is the classic ground of
Buddhism, as its ruined temples and monuments prove,--a faith which
still prevails so generally throughout Burmah, China, and Japan.
The house at which we stopped in Kandy, the only one designed for the
accommodation of travelers, is called the Queen's Hotel, quite
pretentious, quite expensive, and very poor, especially as it regards
the table. One would think a plenty of fruit, at least, might be
afforded where it only costs the time and trouble of gathering, but we
were obliged to seek such cheap luxuries of the itinerant outsiders.
There was a liberal abundance, however, in the insectivorous department.
Centipides and other noxious creatures abounded in the sleeping-rooms.
Fire-flies floated about them in such force at night as to contest the
illuminating power with the primitive light supplied to guests, by means
of a small cork with a bit of cotton wicking floating upon a shallow
dish of cocoanut oil. We will not dilate upon the still more offensive
insects which disputed our sleeping accommodations with us, but did
protest when the rain came pouring through the roof and ceiling upon us
in bed. A large tub was brought in, the bed removed to another corner;
and we fell asleep, lulled by the dull sound of dropping water, to awake
next morning and find the tub overflowing.
We drove through the very extensive and well-arranged Botanical Garden
of Kandy, designed as a sort of experimental nursery for the
introduction of such plants as are not indigenous to the island, but
which might prove to be of value to the planters could they be
acclimated. The selection of various trees and plants is very extensive,
and mingled with those of native origin, together forming a collection
of remarkable interest. We were told that the garden had been organized
for some sixty years, and it is, undoubtedly, the finest in the East,
next to that of Calcutta. It covers a hundred and fifty acres of well
economized land. There was one fine group, we had almost said grove, of
bamboos to be seen here, the stems being considerably over a hundred
feet high, and from eight to ten inches in diameter,--a native of the
spot. The rapidity of growth which characterizes these grasses--for that
is their family--is almost incredible. The large cluster here spoken of
was less than ninety days old, and, the superintendent told us,
increased twelve inches a day by actual measurement! We had read of
plants growing at such speed in the tropics as to be visible to the
watcher, and this group of bamboos was increasing at the rate of half an
inch each hour. It being observed that the atmosphere was impregnated
with a delicate flavor of vanilla, inquiry was made for the cause, and
the plant was pointed out to us growing in thrifty abundance close at
hand. Nowhere had we previously seen such extraordinary exuberance and
variety of tropical vegetation combined.
Some of the palms were of stupendous size and height, while there
appeared to be a spirit of emulation between talipots, palmyras,
date-palms and fan-palms, as to which should develop into the finest
specimen of its class. There were plenty of flying foxes in these
grounds, and some remarkable specimens of the jungle-rope creepers, or
elephant-creepers, as they are more generally called here, which clasp
the trees to which they attach themselves as if with the purpose of
their destruction, which they often succeed in producing by their
anaconda-like-hug. The flying foxes, as was explained to us, are a great
annoyance, and destructive to fruit and blossoms, always attacking the
choicest specimens. They move in flocks or herds of hundreds from one
place to another, as the most desirable food tempts them. The natives
never touch them, but hunters from Europe have cooked and eaten them,
pronouncing the flesh almost the same as that of the hare, with similar
game-like flavor. It is not safe to walk much in the more moist portions
of the garden as there is an abundance of snakes, and especially of one
poisonous kind which is the terror of the natives.
On the passage from and back to Colombo, the scenery was grand, and a
source of great pleasure, for our appreciation in this line was becoming
somewhat trained. So abrupt was the rising grade of the road on the
portion approaching Kandy, that even our small train of two passenger
cars required two engines to enable it to surmount the hills. The road
wound about the mountain in rather startling proximity to the deep
gorges and precipitous cliffs; but, as remarked above, giving us
glimpses of scenery worthy of the Yosemite in the opposite hemisphere.
At the several small stations where we made a brief halt, girls and boys
brought to the windows of the cars yellow bunches of freshly picked,
ripe bananas, very choice and appetizing, the price of which was six
pennies for a bunch of twelve or fifteen, and so we partook of the fat
of the land. New England fruits, as a rule, are more satisfactory to us
than those of any other country, delicious as we sometimes find them in
the tropics; but an exception may be safely made in favor of freshly
picked, ripe, luscious bananas and pine-apples. Green cocoanuts, which
the natives much affect, were offered to us, but having a decided
preference for ripe fruit, these were respectfully but firmly declined.
The common people along the route live in the very simplest and
frailest of huts, made of bamboo frames with walls of mud, the roofs
consisting of a thatching of large palm leaves ingeniously combined, one
layer upon another, so as to effectually exclude even equatorial rains.
The overlapping eaves come within a couple of feet of the ground, the
huts being one story high. They have no chimneys nor windows. The door,
always open, admits all the required light, and there is no cold to be
feared in Ceylon. Whatever of cooking the people do, and it is very
little, is accomplished out of doors. Many of the small hamlets through
which we passed were embedded in low-lying, thickly-shaded woods,
showing the salubrity of the climate, since in some countries such a
location would prove to be the very hot-bed of jungle fever. Here the
natives work in the rice-fields and the swamps at all seasons of the
year, and seem to be perfectly healthy; but we were told that when
Europeans attempt it they die off by scores. Quite a large number of
Singhalese are employed by dealers at Colombo to hunt the beds of small
streams, and to dig in the mountains in search of gems, such as
sapphires, cat's-eyes, moon-stones, topazes, and rubies, which, after
being cut, are sold to European and American travelers, and also
exported to the Paris and London jewelers. A large proportion of the
finest precious stones in the market come from this island.
The pools in the low grounds here and there were rendered beautiful and
fragrant by the lotus in full bloom, bearing flowers eight inches in
diameter, rivaling the magnolias, which were plenty enough, but which
seemed by no means superior to our northern specimens. Does this proud
representative of Flora's kingdom, like humanity, require a northern
and invigorating atmosphere to inspire its greatest fragrance and best
qualities? Coffee plantations are most numerous inland, though they have
lately developed a serious blight which has reduced the production at
least fifty per cent., causing many to abandon the cultivation of the
berry. It is not, like the cinnamon, indigenous to Ceylon, but was
introduced here from the main-land. Unless this serious scourge can be
overcome, coffee, as an export from the island, will very soon cease.
The kind best known and mostly grown here is the "Arab," which thrives
at an elevation of three or four thousand feet. It is bush-like in form,
and trimmed to within three feet of the ground, both for the purpose of
throwing down the strength of the growth into the berry, and for the
convenience of picking. There are other sorts of coffee raised, but this
has formed the staple of the island. Experiments are being tried with
several other kinds just now, cuttings growing with good promise in
nurseries, which were brought from the West Indies and South America.
Curious facts suggest themselves in this connection. The grape-vines of
France, which have developed blight, transferred to California, take on
fresh life and flourish. Those of the latter State, which show symptoms
of exhausted life, renew their productiveness when in the soil of
Europe. The same result relating to coffee is hoped for in Ceylon: with
an exchange of seed, plentiful crops are confidently anticipated, a
matter in which commerce is much interested.
Realizing that the coffee crop is still in an experimental condition,
some of the planters are giving their attention to the cinchona, which
thrives greatly at Ceylon, even flourishing at elevations where coffee
naturally dies out. The seeds of the cinchona are planted in nurseries,
and when six months old are transplanted into prepared fields, where
they make rapid growth. They do not begin to yield until the tree is
eight years old. The earnestness with which the planters have generally
adopted this idea must, if successful, as it seems sure to be, lead to
very decided results when the crop becomes available for the markets of
the world.
Banana groves and orchards bending under the weight of the rich
nutritious fruit, tall cocoanut-trees with half a ton of ripening nuts
in every tuft top, ant-hills nearly as high as native houses, rippling
cascades, small rivers winding through the green valleys, tall
flamingoes presiding over tiny lakes, and flowers of every hue and
shape, together with birds such as one gazes at with curiosity in
northern museums, all crowded upon our vision on this trip inland. No
one should fail to visit Kandy who lands at Colombo, there is so much to
see and to marvel at. Ceylon is a very Gan-Eden, the fairest known
example of tropical luxuriance in all its natural features, its
vegetable and animal kingdoms, its fruits, flowers, and scenery. In
point of location the island is also greatly favored. It is fortunately
situated outside the region of the cyclones, so frequent at certain
seasons in the Bay of Bengal and the Indian Ocean, as well as being free
from the hurricanes of the Mauritius Sea, and the volcanic disturbances
of the Eastern Archipelago. Snow is absolutely unknown. The exhibition
of zodiacal light is not uncommon, and mirage in its many singular and
interesting aspects is frequent; while the effulgence of the moon and
stars of this latitude,--a constantly recurring hymn written in
light,--will render the most prosy individual enthusiastic, keeping the
heart constantly awake to love and beauty.
Ceylon is also much richer than is generally realized in its prehistoric
monuments,--ancient Hindoo and Buddhist temples, and ruins of lofty
pagodas from three to four hundred feet in height, dating many centuries
previous to the appearance of Christ upon earth. What an unexplored
field remains for the antiquarian, not quite untrodden, but still
undeveloped! There is every evidence to show that there once existed
upon this island a great and powerful empire; the gigantic remains of
palaces and temples at once suggest the fact. There are also ruins to be
seen of a most elaborate system of irrigation, which must have covered
the country from Adam's Peak to Galle, like a net-work, with most
perfect means to this end, so excellent as to be the marvel of modern
engineers. Their completeness, intelligent purpose, and extent are
marvelous. But no one can say, or reasonably surmise, what caused the
ruin and decadence of the ancient capitals, which, like those about
Delhi, have crumbled away, leaving only a blank memorial of their
existence. What could have swept from the globe a population of
millions, and left us no clearer record of their once highly civilized
occupancy? The carved pillars, ornamental fragments of temples, and
stone slabs skillfully wrought, which are scattered through the jungle,
and in some instances overgrown by dense forests, attest both material
greatness and far-reaching antiquity. It would seem as though nature had
tried to cover up the many wrinkles of age with blooming vegetation.
There are no legends even extant relating to the earliest of these
remains. Paestum, Memphis, and Cumae reach far back into the dim past,
though here the antiquarian is able to light us with the lamp of his
knowledge; but as to the forest-covered remains of Ceylon, all is a
blank, skeletons of the dead and buried past, mementos of a race who
trod this beautiful island perhaps before the Pyramids or the Sphinx
existed.
At Singapore, Penang, and Colombo it was observed that the common
classes were incessantly chewing the betel-nut, which gives to their
teeth and lips a color as if bathed in fresh blood. It is a well-known
and long-established practice. The men carry the means about them at all
times, and taking a piece of the nut, enclose it in a leaf of the same
tree, adding a small quantity of quicklime; folding these together they
chow them vigorously, one quid lasting for twenty-five minutes or half
an hour, being at times permitted to rest between the gum and the cheek,
as seamen masticate a quid of tobacco. The nut is known to be a powerful
tonic, but only a small portion of the juice is swallowed. The habit is
universal among the lower classes of Asiatics. In the southern districts
of India, pepper and cardamom seeds are added to the quid, and it is
then considered to be a partial preventive against malarial influences.
Unless it produced some agreeable stimulating effect its use would not
be so common. Wherever we go, among civilized or savage races, upon
islands or upon continents, in the chilly North, or the languid, melting
South, we find man resorting to some stimulant other than natural food
and drink. It seems to be an instinctive craving exhibited and satisfied
as surely in the wilds of Africa, or the South Sea Islands, as by the
opium-consuming Chinese, or the brandy-drinking Anglo-Saxons.