THE PARTING FESTIVITIES ON THE HOOGLY
While the hunters were so successfully bagging the big game of the jungle,
Captain O'Flaherty had taken the party who had remained on board the
steamer on an excursion through some of the waterways of the Sunderbunds,
so that they were not wearied by waiting for those more actively employed.
The united party had thoroughly enjoyed the day, even into the evening. The
skins of the tigers and leopards were sent to an expert, to be prepared for
future preservation when the time should admit.
At the hotel the wonderful success of the hunters was the theme of the
other guests; but the place was regarded as a dangerous one, though that
would not deter Englishmen from visiting it if it were not so difficult of
access, for a government steam-yacht was not available for many parties.
The next morning the tourists were taken to the Botanical Garden, a short
distance above the city, which is said to be the finest as well as the most
spacious in the world.
It was not an affair of greenhouses, like most of such places they had
seen; for they were superfluous in the Torrid Zone, and all the plants grew
in the open air. The ladies and most of the gentlemen were greatly
interested in the plants and flowers, and the whole forenoon was agreeably
passed in viewing them. Uncle Moses insisted that the baobab and the Indian
banyan were literally the "biggest things" there; for the trunk of the
former was ten feet in diameter, while the latter covered half a square
mile of ground. The latter had been considerably damaged by a cyclone.
At the end of a week in Calcutta, every day of which had been occupied to
the pleasure and instruction of the tourists, Captain Ringgold insisted
that they must remain no longer. It was the middle of March, and the hot
weather was coming on, and the company must return to the Guardian-Mother
on the following morning. It was not an unpleasant announcement, as they
had all become greatly attached to the steamer, for they had always been
exceedingly happy on board of her.
"It is time for me to settle up our accounts, Lord Tremlyn," said the
commander, as they were seated on the veranda after the intended departure
had been announced.
"That time has not come, Captain Ringgold; and it never will come," replied
his lordship very decidedly. "I thought we had disposed of that question
once for all at Bombay. You and your party have been our guests from the
moment we landed. Sir Modava and I have done our best, in the time allotted
to us, to make you acquainted with India, and to make the time pass
pleasantly with you. As far as we had influence, we have used it to promote
the objects of your visit."
"You have done a hundred times more than we had any right to expect, and
certainly we should not have asked for what you have given us; but it seems
to be no more than right that we should pay our own expenses, and we shall
be just as grateful to you for the vast service you have rendered us."
"What we have done does not extinguish a tithe of our obligations to you
and your ship's company. Any money allusion grieves me, and the very
thought of being paid almost breaks the heart of Sir Modava. I beg you not
to allude to the matter again. Now, my dear Captain Ringgold," continued
his lordship, taking what looked like a picture-frame from a table near
him, "I ask the privilege of presenting to you this testimonial of the
gratitude of the three cabin survivors of the wreck of the Travancore,
which I will ask you to hang up in the cabin of the Guardian-Mother."
The commander took the frame, in which was a printed testimonial,
containing a full account of the rescue of the survivors of the wreck, with
a concluding paragraph, expressive of the obligations of the principal
persons rescued, to the captain and his ship's company for their noble and
successful exertions in saving them and all the people on board. It had the
autographs of Lord Tremlyn, Sir Modava, and Dr. Ferrolan at the foot of the
printed statement. It was on parchment, printed in plain, clear type, and
the frame was as elegant as money could buy.
"I accept this as the property of the ship, and to me personally nothing
could be more valued," replied the commander, extending his thanks at
considerable length; but he said nothing more about payment, though he
could not help thinking that their elegant and bountiful hospitality had
cost the viscount and the Indian gentleman several thousand pounds.
"But we do not separate just yet; and I have another favor to ask of you,
Captain Ringgold, which is that you will give us a passage to Colombo,"
added Lord Tremlyn.
"For myself and my party, we shall all be delighted to have you remain with
us indefinitely," replied the commander, taking his lordship's hand. "I
extend to you, Sir Modava, and Dr. Ferrolan a cordial invitation to
complete with us our voyage around the world; and we will endeavor to be as
hospitable to you in the United States as you have been to us in India."
"Nothing would afford me so great a pleasure," replied Lord Tremlyn; "but
it would be quite impossible for me to accept the invitation, for I must
return to England, and report upon my mission to India."
Sir Modava and Dr. Ferrolan also declined, for reasons given. The company
had called upon some of the officials of the government and officers of the
army, at the request of his lordship, and most of them made parting calls
the next forenoon; and the viceroy sent his private secretary, with the
best wishes of his Excellency for a prosperous voyage, to them. After
tiffin they all went on board, where their baggage had been sent before,
the Italian band playing all the time on Captain O'Flaherty's steamer,
which put them on board.
General Noury had sent word to Captain Sharp that he should continue with
the party to Colombo, and that he could proceed at once to that port. In
fact, he liked the company of the party on board of the Guardian-Mother so
well that he was not inclined to part with them at present.
The passengers took possession of their staterooms, and there was still one
left for the general, and the band was quartered in the library. The hour
for sailing had been fixed at three o'clock; and just before that time the
Cherub, Captain O'Flaherty, appeared, having on board a regimental band and
the friends of Lord Tremlyn, Sir Modava, and Dr. Ferrolan, who extended to
them the compliment of an escort, and, incidentally, to the commander and
his passengers.
About half an hour before the time for sailing a shore boat came up to the
gangway, and a well-dressed gentleman with a swarthy face ascended the
steps. He asked to see Captain Ringgold, and he was called down from the
upper deck. It was Mazagan.
"I have called, Captain, to remind you that our account has not yet been
settled," said the villanous Moor. "I have another to add to it, for the
destruction of the Fatimé, his Highness the Pacha Ali-Noury's steam-yacht,
which he authorizes me to collect."
"Does he, indeed?" replied the captain, laughing; for, having the "weather
gauge" of the rascal, he was disposed to treat the matter very lightly.
"I have the account in the handwriting of his Highness," added Mazagan, as
he presented a paper written in good English.
"Very well; but I prefer to settle the account with his Highness himself,"
added the commander, as he touched an electric bell, which brought Sparks
to the boudoir into which they had gone. "Ask the general to come here," he
said in a low tone to the steward.
"But I do not choose to wait a year or two for a settlement," protested the
visitor.
"You need not wait five minutes," added Captain Ringgold.
The Moor began to go over his story again, but it was interrupted by the
entrance of General Noury. Mazagan looked at him, and seemed to be unable
to believe the evidence of his own eyes. The commander stated the case to
him.
"Is this account in your handwriting, General?" he asked.
"Certainly not," replied the Pacha. "We have discussed this matter fully,
and I have no claim whatever against you; neither has this man. I settled
all my accounts with him; and I have his receipt in full, signed by him,
and witnessed by Captain Sharp and his wife. He is a swindler and a
villain; and if I ever catch him in Morocco he shall have the bowstring!"
The general denounced him in the severest manner, and then asked the
commander to send him out of the ship. Knott was at the gangway, the pirate
was turned over to him, and hustled down the steps into his boat. The
general expressed his regret that the captain had been annoyed by the
villain again, and was confident he would never see or hear from him again;
and he never did.
Promptly at the hour set the Guardian-Mother got under way, and the
Cherub's band played its liveliest airs. When it stopped to rest, the
Italian band played, and thus the music was kept up for three hours, when
the steamers were at Diamond Harbor. Here they came alongside each other,
and all the company on board the Cherub were invited to a collation on
board of the Guardian-Mother, at which Captain Ringgold presided, and many
speeches were made by the residents of Calcutta, and by the passengers on
board.
The ship's company on each vessel were not left out in the cold; for, while
their officers were at the collation, Baldy Bickling, the second cook,
regaled them from the abundant stores provided for the occasion, of which
notice had been given to Mr. Melanchthon Sage, the chief steward, the day
before. At this point adieus were exchanged, the Guardian-Mother went to
sea, and the Cherub returned to Calcutta. The passengers were tired out and
retired early.
It was an easy run, from Diamond Harbor to Madras in two days and a half,
for the Guardian-Mother. The weather was favorable, and the tourists used
their time in getting rested. The social occasions, the playing of the
band, and the singing in the music-room, made plenty of variety. But the
commander did not lose sight of what he regarded as one of the principal
objects of the long voyage, the instruction of the young people, and
incidentally of the elder ones.
On the forenoon of the second day out the passengers were called together
in Conference Hall, and they were glad to assemble there again. The
temperature was moderate, the sea was in its most cheerful mood, and, after
their long stay on shore, they were glad to be out of sight of land again.
Mr. Gaskette had been busy during the vacation the ship's company had
obtained at Bombay and Calcutta; had made several new maps, one of which
was the shores of the Bay and Sea of Bengal from Calcutta to the southern
point of Ceylon; and he had enlarged a small map of Ceylon, to be used when
the ship arrived at Colombo, or sooner. It was Sir Modava who mounted the
platform for this occasion; and he was received with the heartiest
applause, for he had become even more popular than at first.
"I am to tell you something, not much, about Madras, where we shall arrive
about this time day after to-morrow," the Hindu gentleman began; and the
usual smile which had fascinated all the ladies was on his face. "Madras is
the third city in population of India, or next to Bombay, with 452,518
souls, by the census published last year. It is on the Coromandel coast,
which is nearly the whole of the Madras Presidency. It is nearly the entire
western shore of the Sea of Bengal, including the bay, as the northern part
of it is called in modern times. There is scarcely a single safe harbor for
large vessels.
"I suppose you have often heard the expression, 'in the Carnatic,' for it
is memorable as the scene of the struggle in the last century between
England and France for the supremacy of India. Though there is no state
with that name, nearly the whole coast region south of the Godavery River
retains this name. In fact, there is no little confusion of names in many
parts of India. The country near the Arabian Sea still receives the
designation of the Deccan, from the Kistna River to the Gulf of Cambay on
the north. But this name does not belong to a political division,"
continued the speaker, pointing out every location and river he named.
"Madras extends along the shore nine miles, and is thus exposed to the fury
of the sea for this distance; for it is not on a river, like Calcutta, or a
sheltered bay, like Bombay. Formerly, on the approach of a cyclone, vessels
lying in the roadstead, as the only harbor it had, which was no harbor, had
to put to sea to avoid being driven on the shore. Decidedly it was a very
inconvenient place to build a city; but the town formerly consisted of a
number of villages, which have been united, after the fashion of some of
your American cities.
"An attempt has been in progress the last twenty years to make a harbor in
the shape of an enclosure of strong walls, about half a mile square. It was
seriously damaged by a cyclone a dozen years ago; but they are still at
work upon it, though it is said to be doubtful whether or not it will ever
be safe for ships in a violent storm. There is always a heavy surf rolling
in on this coast, even in what the commander would call a smooth sea."
"Then how shall we get ashore there?" inquired Mrs. Belgrave.
"The natives construct a boat, which is a sort of raft of planks, tied
together with ropes, called a _masuláh_, which passes through the surf
very well in ordinary weather; but no boat could live in a cyclone in a sea
there, for the waves are fourteen feet high."
"I should like to try it with the second cutter, so far as the waves are
concerned; but bumping on the bottom might spoil the attempt," said Mr.
Gaskette, who was standing by his map.
"It would not be prudent in a cyclone, and I trust you will have no
occasion to try the experiment," added Sir Modava. "But cyclones are rare
here, except from the last of May and into June, and in October, November,
and early in December; so that the port is not liable to more than two
storms a year. The average rainfall is forty-nine inches, falling on
ninety-five days; but in seventy-four years, ending two years ago, it
varied from a foot and a half to seven feet and four inches. It is dry here
some years, and rather damp when they get eighty-eight inches.
"Going to Madras in March, the temperature of the place is of no
consequence to you, except as a matter of curiosity, being in the Torrid
Zone. It will be from 76° to 88° while you are here. The average
temperature for the year is 82°; in the hot months it rises to over 100°;
the highest in twenty-seven years was 113°, and the lowest 57.6°. A
sea-breeze often sets in about noon, lasting till sunset, greatly modifying
the heat. I think I need say no more about the city till we get there."
This talk was followed by a concert by the band. The ship sped on her
course, though something to instruct and amuse was going on all the time.
At the time set Madras was in sight, and a little later the surf was seen
rolling in on the shore. The depth is shallow near the land, which causes
the water to break. The Guardian-Mother was anchored in the deep water, and
Lord Tremlyn invited the party to proceed to the apartments at the Royal
Hotel which he had bespoken for them. The commander made no further
objections to the matter of expense, and the invitation was promptly
accepted. A number of the masulah-boats, not the rafts, were engaged to
land them. They were much like any other boat, though they were paddled,
and not rowed. They saw the catamarans, constructed as the Hindu gentleman
had described, paddled on the waves by a single man, wearing a sugar-loaf
hat.
The masulah-boats went to the shore very comfortably, and carriages were in
waiting for the party on the beach near where they landed. As they passed
through the streets everything seemed to be very much as it was in
Calcutta; and they saw similar palanquins, bullock-carts, and elephants.
The Malabar Hindu was not very different from those of other sections of
the country, though he had some peculiarities of costume.
When they reached the hotel, which was a very comfortable one, in English
style, it was two hours to tiffin, and most of the party preferred to pass
the time in the parlor. The live boys could not keep still, and they went
out for a walk. The sights were not novel enough to hold them; and when a
driver of a bullock-cart salaamed to them, and pointed to his vehicle,
Felix suggested that they should take a ride. Of course, they could not
speak a word of the language; and, however it may have been with other
conductors of vehicles, this one did not know a word of English.
"Mavalipoor?" interrogated the driver, when the "Big Four" had seated
themselves in the corners of the vehicle, which had a body like an omnibus
for four, with a top like the dome of a small temple. They had no idea what
the word or sentence used by the driver had been, but supposed it was
something worth seeing in the town. Two palanquins went by them at full
tilt, and they saw what was to be seen in the street. They went on several
miles, till they appeared to be leaving the city behind them, and they
thought it was time to call a halt. They talked vigorously to the cartman,
and all of them pointed back to the city, and yelled "Madras!"
"Mavalipoor!" screamed the driver, pointing with equal energy in the
direction the cart was headed. But the fellow would not stop, and the
lively boys all leaped out of the cart to the ground. He would not go on
without them; but fortunately a gentleman in English costume came along on
horseback. The quartet touched their hats to him, and he stopped his steed.
Louis stated that they wished to go to the Royal Hotel.
"The hotel is not in this direction," replied the horseman with much
suavity. But at this moment the driver had something to say, and delivered
himself with energy. "He says you engaged him to take you to Mavalipoor,"
the rider explained. Louis stated their position, that when the cartman
said "Mavalipoor" they had assented, without knowing what he meant.
"You can make it all right with the man by giving him a rupee when he
leaves you at your hotel," replied the gentleman, laughing heartily at the
mistake, and then informed them that there were some Hindu temples at
Mavalipoor, more than thirty miles distant, that were visited by strangers.
He then ordered the driver to convey his fare to the Royal Hotel, in a very
peremptory manner, and the man obeyed. Thanking the gentleman for his
kindness, they parted. The cartman was in a hurry now, and he urged his
humpbacked bullocks into a lively trot.
At the door the boys gave the driver two rupees, and the fellow salaamed as
though he had received a guinea. There are plenty of landaus in Madras at
three rupees a day; and the dak, as the cart is called, and palanquins are
becoming things of the past. Tiffin was ready; and a line of carriages was
at the door waiting for the tourists when they had disposed of the lunch,
and they seated themselves for a drive.
"I warn you," said Sir Modava, as the carriages drove off, "that you will
find little here to interest you, after visiting, as you have, the
principal cities of India."
"We are about tired of sight-seeing," added Mrs. Belgrave rather languidly;
and this was about the situation of most of the party.
They passed the People's Park, an inviting enclosure, with ponds and
pleasant walks, to the Black Town, which contains the homes of the natives,
though there are plenty of shops; and it is crossed by several good
avenues. They came to a street like that called The Strand in Calcutta, and
they drove the whole length of it. They passed into Fort St. George, which
seemed to be a city of itself. Leaving it, they crossed the little river
that meanders through the town, and flows into the ocean at this point.
On this shore road were the principal public buildings of the city, and
near the end of it was St. Thomas's Cathedral. This is said to be the site
where the apostle of this name, "Doubting Thomas," was martyred. Early
tradition buried him in Edessa, in Mesopotamia, but a later account sent
him to India; but this is something for learned doctors to discuss. At St.
George's Cathedral the party entered to see the statue, made by Chantrey,
of Bishop Heber, who looks gently and tenderly upon a native convert at his
feet.
They rode all over the town, and found several ponds, called tanks; and the
great fort is washed on one side by the river. The second day the party
were driven into the suburbs. At a rocky point on the river they found a
party of half-naked men washing sheets and pillow-cases. The ladies were
interested, and the carriages stopped to enable them to see the operation.
They had something like washboards, laid on the bank of the stream, which
they were hammering with all their might with the sheets, standing in the
shallow water as they did so. Mrs. Blossom declared they must tear them all
to pieces, and she was quite indignant at the way it was done.
Another day finished Madras; and, though there was little to see, compared
with the places they had visited before, Mrs. Belgrave declared they had
had a good time. On the morning following they went on board of the
Guardian-Mother, and she sailed for Ceylon.