A MULTITUDE OF NATIVE SERVANTS
The barge was ready as soon as it was needed, and lay at the platform of
the gangway, with the crew in their white uniforms, quite as smart as
man-of-war's-men. The coolie boatmen who were seeking a job to put the
passengers on shore were disappointed. The clothing of the guests had been
taken in hand by Sparks and Sordy, the cabin stewards, dried, cleaned, and
pressed. They wore them now, and had returned the borrowed garments.
The party were impatient to see the strange sights on shore; and they were
ready at the gangway when the viscount, to whom the commander had abandoned
the direction of the company, gave the word. The ladies were assisted to
their places, and the "Big Four" went into the fore-sheets. Bargate, the
old man-of-war's-man, was the cockswain, and his lordship gave the word to
him to give way.
"Pull to the Apollo Bunder, if you please, my man," said he.
"Which, your honor?" asked Bargate blankly.
"I mean the bit of a basin you see nearly abreast of the ship," the new
leader explained, pointing out the locality.
The cockswain shoved off the stern of the boat, the oars dropped into the
water, and the men gave way. It was a pull of but a few minutes, and the
barge shot into the basin, and came to a convenient landing-place. On the
shore they found Mr. Windham, one of the chief officials of the
custom-house, who had been on board of the ship. He was surrounded by a
small mob of young Hindus, neatly dressed in the native garments of white
cotton. The ladies were assisted to the shore first. All of the party
carried small valises or satchels containing the needed articles for a few
days' stay at a hotel; and these natives took possession of them as they
landed.
"What is this man, Sir Modava?" asked Mrs. Belgrave, as one of them
relieved her of the bag she carried.
"He is your _Khidmutgar_, madam," replied the Hindu knight, with a
smile on his handsome face.
"My what?" demanded the lady. "And must I pronounce that word?"
"Not unless you wish to do so. This man is your servant, your waiter."
"But what are we to do with such a lot of them?" inquired Mrs. Belgrave, as
she looked upon the group of Hindus.
"There is only one for each person of the company; for every one must have
his servant. We are going to the Victoria Hotel, and this _Khidmutgar_
will attend upon you at the table, and do anything you require."
"I don't think I shall need him all the time," added the lady, who thought
he would be a nuisance to her.
The young Hindus presented themselves to all the passengers as they landed,
taking their small baggage, canes, and umbrellas. Some of them had heard
Sir Modava's explanation, and Lord Tremlyn repeated it to others. Most of
them had decided to take things as they came, and accepted the custom of
the country without any friction. Mrs. Blossom looked rather wildly at the
satellite who was to attend to her wants; but her good friend told her to
say nothing, and she submitted without a word.
"Captain Ringgold," said the viscount, as he brought forward a rather stout
man, with spectacles on his nose, and an odd-looking cap or turban on his
head, "this is Pallonjee Pestonjee, the proprietor of the Victoria Hotel."
"I am happy to know you, sir," replied the commander, as he took the hand
of the gentleman, who was a Parsee, though he did not attempt to pronounce
the name.
"We have half a dozen _shigrams_ here," continued his lordship.
"What are we to do with them, my Lord?" asked the captain.
"They are two-horse carriages; and, if you please, we will ride to the
hotel in them," laughed the distinguished guide.
The party seated themselves in the vehicles, which were of English pattern;
and they saw cabs and omnibuses in the vicinity. Taking Rampart Row, they
passed the university, the court-house, and other public buildings, into
Esplanade Road, leading to their destination, about a mile from the
landing.
"On our right is Byculla, one of the divisions of the city, and a business
quarter, where you will find the retail shops, though they are not all
here," said the viscount. "This locality is generally called the Fort; for
though its walls have been removed, it retains the old name. Just below the
Apollo Bunder, where we landed, are the Grant buildings, or warehouses.
Perhaps you saw them from the deck of the ship. Below these, at the
extremity of the point, is Colaba, the native town, which is largely
occupied by commercial buildings. But we shall ride over this ground again,
and you will have the opportunity to see the various structures in detail."
But the tourists were not very much interested in the buildings; for they
wanted to see India, its manners and customs, and for the last year they
had been seeing edifices as noted as any in the world, though they had yet
to be introduced to the temples and palaces of this country, which were
different from anything they had seen before.
They soon arrived at the Victoria Hotel; and the _khidmutgars_,
carrying the light baggage, were not behind them, though they had run all
the way from the bunder. The landlord had come in a carriage. Felix
McGavonty, who was the captain's clerk, had made out several lists of the
passengers, at the request of Lord Tremlyn; and one of them had been sent
to the hotel, so that their rooms were already assigned to them. Their
servants appeared to be familiar with the Victoria, and they were taken to
their apartments at once.
"What the dickens do we want of all these fellows?" asked Scott when they
had been conducted to a room with four beds in it. "They will be a nuisance
to us."
"We don't need all you fellows," added Louis Belgrave, turning to his
servant. "We are accustomed to wait on ourselves. One of you is enough for
all of us."
"No, Sahib; no _khidmutgar_ waits on more than one gentleman," replied
Louis's man, with a cheerful smile, displaying a wealth of white teeth
which would have been creditable to an Alabama negro.
"That's what's the matter, is it?" added Scott. "I have learned that no
Hindu will do more than one kind of work, take care of more than one
person; and no groom will take care of more than one horse. If you have six
horses, you must have six hostlers. That is what Sir Modava told me."
"Custom is law here, and we must follow the fashions," replied Louis. "What
is your name, my boy?" he continued, turning to his servant.
"Sayad, sahib," answered he.
Scott's was Moro, Morris's was Mobarak, and Felix's was Balaya; but the
last two were speedily abbreviated into "Mobby" and "Bally," to which the
young Hindus offered no objection. They were all under twenty years of age,
and spoke English passably well.
"Here, Sayad! black my shoes," said Louis, determined to make use of his
servant.
"I don't clean the shoes," replied the fellow, shaking his head. "I call
the porter;" and he did so.
"That is just what Sir Modava told me," added Scott.
But Sayad had opened his master's valise, placed his toilet articles on the
bureau, and brushed his coat, which he had taken off. He arranged
everything with good taste, and smiled expansively every time Louis looked
at him. The shoes of all four were polished in time; and they were ready to
begin their explorations of the city, though it was rather late in the day.
"What time is dinner, Moro?" asked Scott.
"Seven o'clock, sahib," replied the boy; and he was more of a boy than a
man.
"What time are the other meals?"
"Meals?" queried Moro.
"What time is breakfast?"
"Bring sahib coffee at six in the morning; breakfast at nine; tiffin at
one."
"What's that last one, Moro?"
"We had tiffin at Suez, and it means luncheon," interposed Morris.
"I didn't hear the word; but it is all right, and tiffin it is after this
time. Come; are you going down-stairs, fellows?"
"There is a public sitting-room down-stairs, and we will find that first."
The four servants followed them when they went down-stairs. None of the
party had yet gone to the public room except Sir Modava, though Lord
Tremlyn soon joined him. Their attendants stopped outside the doors.
"We are going to the tailor's now," said the Hindu gentleman. "As you are
aware, we lost all our clothes except what we had on, and we must order a
new supply."
"May we go with you?" asked Louis.
"Certainly; if you desire to do so. You may find something to amuse you on
the way, as we shall walk; for we want to get our sea-legs off," replied
Sir Modava. "It is only five o'clock here, and we have two hours before
dinner-time. Ah, here is Miss Blanche."
She was followed by her servant, who was decidedly a nuisance to her,
though he retreated from her room as soon as he had put things in order,
and remained within call outside the door. Louis invited her to take a walk
with them, and she went up-stairs to consult her mother. She returned in a
few minutes, ready to go out; and she was as radiant as a fairy in her
light costume.
They passed out of the hotel; and the first thing that attracted Louis's
attention was a palanquin. It was not a new thing to the travellers, for
they had seen such conveyances in Constantinople and elsewhere.
[Illustration: "The young millionaire walked by the side of the vehicle."
--Page 155.]
"You must ride in that palanquin, Miss Blanche," said Louis; and he told
Sayad to have it brought up to the door.
It was a compartment like a box, about seven feet long, with a pair of
sliding doors at the side. It was balanced on a pole, with braces above and
below it. It appeared to be so poised, with the pole above the centre of
gravity, that it could not be turned over. The four bearers were coolies,
with bare legs, cotton turbans on their heads, and not otherwise overloaded
with clothing; but they were dressed like all the coolies about the streets
and in the boats of the harbor.
The fair young lady had never been in a palanquin, though she had seen
them, and she was pleased with the idea of the ride. It was dropped down
upon its four legs, or feet, and Louis assisted her to the interior. It was
provided with cushions, and Sir Modava instructed her to recline so that
she could see out of the open doors. The young millionaire walked by the
side of the vehicle, while the others all followed, with their servants at
a respectful distance.
"How do you like the motion, Miss Blanche?" asked Louis, after they had
gone a short distance.
"It is not as uneasy as the gait of a camel, though I can feel every step
of the bearers. But I should prefer a _shigram_, if it only had a
better name," replied she.
"You can call it a brougham, or simply a carriage, if you prefer. We are
not here to learn the Indian languages, and we can take our choice; and we
can talk 'good old United States,' in speaking of things," suggested Louis.
"There! what will you call that vehicle, Miss Blanche?"
"That is called a _gharri_" interposed Sir Modava, who was within
hearing.
The vehicle was such as none of the Americans had ever seen. It was a sort
of two-wheeled cart, with a top like an old-fashioned chaise, in which a
man was seated, while a rough-looking fellow rode in front.
"I should say it was an ox-cart, so far as the team is concerned," said
Scott.
"Those are not oxen; they are called bullocks in this country. As you see,
they have humps like a camel, though much smaller, in front of which is the
yoke," the Hindu knight explained.
"But they don't drive oxen in the United States with a pair of rope reins,
as this fellow does," said Scott.
"I have seen them do so in North Carolina," added Morris, who had travelled
in the South with his parents.
"I give it up, and it's all right. But what is that man in the cart? Is he
a Grand Mogul?"
"Hardly," replied Sir Modava, laughing. "The driver is the lowest caste of
laborers, who works for fivepence a day, and supports his family on it. The
man inside is the cook of a Parsee merchant I happen to know, and probably
he is going to market to buy supplies for the family. But here we are at
the tailor's. You can continue your ramble, and your servants can tell you
the way, and what the buildings are."
The two gentlemen entered the tailor's shop; for there are no stores here
any more than in London.