CHAPTER XI.

The Ancient Capital of Kandy.--An Artificial Lake.--The

Great River of Ceylon.--Site of the Capital of the Central

Province.--On the Way from Colombo to Kandy.--The Tiny

Musk-Deer.--The Wild Boar.--Native Cabins.--From the Railway

Car Windows.--The Lotus.--Destructive White Ants and their

Enemies.--Wild Animals.--The Mother of Twins.--A Little

Waif.--A Zigzag Railway.--An Expensive Road to

build.--"Sensation Rock" with an Evil History.--Grand Alpine

Scenery.

Kandy, the Maha-neura, or "great city," of the Singhalese, one of the

ancient capitals of Ceylon, is beautifully situated in the bosom of

the verdant hills in the central province of the island, just about

half way between the east and west coasts, a little more than seventy

miles north of Colombo. Here the town nestles on a bend of the

Maha-velle-Ganga ("great sandy river"), which nearly surrounds the old

city at a distance of three miles from its centre. It became the

capital of the island in 1592. As it was repeatedly captured and

burned by the Portuguese, Dutch, and English, it presents no

architectural monuments with any pretension to antiquity. Here we are

about seventeen hundred feet above sea level, beside a spacious,

though artificial lake, which represents a small portion of the grand

system of irrigation for which Ceylon was so famous through a score of

centuries. There is no natural lake worthy of the name in the

country, though there are numerous ponds, large and small, here and

there, especially in the southern part of the island. In the centre of

this large sheet of water, with its charming aspect of repose and

freshness, is a tiny island, where the last king of Kandy, who was a

notorious tyrant, established his harem with true oriental lavishness.

It is now improved as a safe place for the storage of gunpowder and

other explosive war materials. At least, it was formerly thus

appropriated, though perhaps it is not so now. The infamous sovereign

referred to, Sri Wikrema Raja Singha, at whose death ended a long and

famous line of kings, was outrageous beyond all precedent. He was

accustomed to behead any one of his counselors who dared to disagree

with him, also wreaking his vengeance upon the individual's innocent

family, males and females, by treating them in a similar manner.

The immense tank at Kandy is of modern construction, having been

finished early in the present century by the king whose name we have

just given. The heavy embankment which holds the lake in its bed has

been made into a broad and most charming esplanade, decked with

handsome shade trees, thus surrounding the basin with an inviting

driveway and promenade, enlivened by choice flowering shrubs, whose

names only an accomplished botanist could remember. Among them the

ever-fragrant cape jessamine is conspicuous, together with beds of

violets and mignonette. Palms prevail everywhere on the island, with

their bare trunks reaching sixty or seventy feet upward, at which

point they throw out their deep green, gracefully drooping foliage in

thick clusters. The lake is about three miles in circumference,

encircled by a low stone wall, and is, judged even by modern rules, a

remarkably skillful piece of engineering.

The Maha-velle-Ganga rises in the base of the neighboring mountains,

and, flowing past Kandy, turns to the north, finally discharging

itself by several mouths into the ocean far away on the east coast,

near the port of Trincomalee. It drains in its course upwards of four

thousand square miles of territory, being a hundred and thirty miles

long, and is navigable by small boats nearly to Kandy. The hills which

encompass the town make of it a verdant amphitheatre, and are

themselves dotted with flourishing tea-plantations, mostly owned by

English agriculturists, the growing of tea, as already explained,

having largely superseded, or perhaps we should say supplemented, that

of coffee throughout the island. In the higher regions, near the

foot-hills, where the big river rises, there used to be a great coffee

district, healthy and populous; but alas! malaria and jungle fever lie

crouching upon its lower banks like a beast of prey, ready to pounce

upon the passing and incautious traveler, while hungry, wide-jawed

crocodiles lie half-concealed in the low mangroves, ready to snap up

any dog or young native child which thoughtlessly approaches their

domain. The Ceylon crocodile is a large animal, quite common on the

inland rivers and deserted, half ruined tanks, and frequently measures

over twenty feet from the snout to the tip of the tail. In the

malarial districts, all sorts of insects, reptiles, and wild animals

thrive and multiply abundantly, but to man, and even to most domestic

animals, such regions are poisonous.

The reason why the river-courses in Ceylon are so unsalubrious, so

fever-inducing, is easily explained. These waterways overflow their

banks in the rainy season, depositing an accumulation of vegetable

matter which remains to decompose when the river subsides, thus

infecting the surrounding country. The banks of swiftly flowing

streams are considered to be healthful localities, but they do not

prove so in this tropical island. The Maha-velle-Ganga, which is the

Mississippi of Ceylon, is no exception to this rule.

In coming to Kandy from Colombo, the railway for the first forty miles

threads its way through a thinly populated region, over a level

country which is often so low as to be of a marshy nature, though the

soil is marked by overwhelming fertility. About fifteen miles from the

capital is Henaratgoda, where the government Tropical Gardens are

situated. Here the process of acclimatization for exotics is tried

with plants which might not thrive at the altitude of the Botanical

Gardens of Peradenia, near Kandy. The railway stations, it will be

observed, are all beautifully ornamented with tropical flowers adapted

to the situation. This is getting to be a universal custom all over

the world. Even in Russia, on the line between St. Petersburg and

Moscow, every depot is thus beautified. The railways are a government

monopoly in this island, furnishing a handsome revenue. There are no

presidents to swallow up salaries of fifty thousand dollars each, nor

other ornamental officials receiving enormous sums of money for

imaginary services. At each station in Ceylon, pretty children of both

sexes offer the traveler tempting native fruits. They are very

interesting, these children, in spite of their unkempt hair and entire

nudity. Their big black eyes are full of pleading earnestness and

bright expression, while their dark brown skin shines like polished

mahogany under the hot rays of an equatorial sun. The land seen on the

route is interspersed by rice plantations, groves of palms, bananas,

and plantains, while the jungle at intervals is seen to be impassable,

the trees are so bound together with stout, creeping vines and close

undergrowth. Hump-backed cows and black swine, with an occasional

domesticated buffalo, are all the animals one sees, though there are a

plenty of wild ones not far away in less populous districts, including

bears, deer, leopards, and elephants. The buffalo is almost an

amphibious animal, and may be seen for many hours daily nearly

immersed in the ponds, lakes, or rivers, only its head, horns, and

nose visible above the water. Thus he will lie or stand for any length

of time, chewing the cud like other creatures of his kind, until

hunger compels him to seek food on the dry land. Happy for him if he

be not attacked, while thus exposed, by the voracious pond leeches,

more fatal than the flies which he strives to avoid by thus immersing

his body. The elephants are still numerous, notwithstanding so many

have been exported to the continent hard by. A carefully prepared

estimate published at Colombo last year (close of 1893) places the

probable number of wild elephants in Ceylon at five thousand. It is

also believed that the small numbers of these animals which are now

shot by Europeans annually will not decrease this aggregate, because

of the natural breeding which is all the time going on. There are also

found here in abundance the wild boar, jackal, ant-eater, and a great

variety of monkeys (the latter afraid only of Europeans), and the

cheetah. This last named is an animal of the leopard family, nearly

three feet in height, and six feet long from nose to tail-tip, but

exceedingly active and over-fond of monkey-flesh. It is of a dun

color, with round black spots distributed uniformly over the body.

The tiny musk-deer, so called, though it has no musk-bag or scent

about it of that pungent nature, is indigenous to Ceylon. There is a

stuffed specimen in the Colombo museum, but the author did not happen

to see one alive. It is only about twelve or fourteen inches long and

ten high when at maturity, but it is formed exactly like a full-grown

North American deer or antelope, having a gray hide dappled with white

spots, like a young fawn. Its exquisite delicacy of limbs is very

beautiful. Several attempts have been made to transport a pair from

this island to the Zoological Gardens of London, but the little

creatures have never survived the voyage. They prove to be as delicate

in constitution as in physical formation.

We have incidentally mentioned the wild boar, to hunt which is a sport

that has brought nearly as many Englishmen to Ceylon as has that

generally more attractive and much larger game, the wild elephant.

Strange to say, the boar, weighing on an average not much over two

hundred pounds, has proved quite as dangerous and even more formidable

in conflict than the huge monarch of these forests. The quick-witted,

cool, and experienced huntsman can avoid the giant elephant when he

charges,--he is necessarily sluggish on account of his size; but the

wild boar is swift, fierce, and armed with tusks sharp as a dagger's

point, which he uses with the adroitness and rapidity of a skilled

swordsman. Sir Samuel Baker says that he has killed these animals in

Ceylon weighing over four hundred pounds each, and has seen them here

even much larger. The boar is hunted with trained dogs, and is

scarcely ever driven to bay without seriously wounding and often

killing one or more of the pack. The hunter does not shoot at the boar

when at close quarters, lest he should kill the dogs hanging to the

animal; but the true form is for him to close in upon the fight and

bury his long knife in the creature's vital parts. Practiced sportsmen

aim to bury their weapon just back of the ears, at the junction of the

brain and spinal marrow; death to the boar is then instantaneous. Sir

Samuel Baker, who was an inveterate sportsman, had many narrow escapes

in wild-boar hunting in Ceylon, and was more than once seriously

wounded.

The natives inland, as observed on the line of the railway, live in

the simplest and rudest of huts, mostly formed of bamboo frames filled

in with clay baked in the sun. The thatched roofs consist, as usual in

this country, of large palm leaves braided together, one layer lapping

over another, thus effectually excluding even equatorial rains. The

eaves come within three or four feet of the ground. There are no

chimneys nor windows in these primitive abodes, but the doors, which

are always open, admit light and air. The natives only sleep in them;

during their waking hours, they are always under the blue sky. Each

native builds his own cabin, which rarely consists of more than one

apartment. In its erection no nails are used; the several parts are

tied together with rattans and stout vines, which become like rope

when they are once dry. The climate is so uniformly warm that many do

not even plaster their walls with clay, using palm leaves and boughs

of trees to form a sufficient covering. A sheltered situation is

chosen, so as to be protected from the weather when the monsoons blow,

for these natives have a fixed aversion to the wind and rain. There is

a certain harmony between the primitive simplicity of these people and

that of surrounding nature. To the casual observer, as he passes over

this route between Colombo and Kandy, there is an unpleasant

suggestion in the surroundings of possible jungle fever. The thick,

low-lying, tangled woods and stagnant pools one would think must be

the very home of chills and fever. They would be so considered in

continental India, or in the south and west of our own country; yet

the people hereabouts do not seem at present to suffer from any

special form of ill health. The men are thin in flesh, but muscular

and cheerful in aspect. They really seem to enjoy life after their

dull, animal-like fashion, though their principal occupation is that

of working in the wet rice-fields, an employment which no European can

safely pursue. The latter, in fact, never become sufficiently

acclimated to be able to live in low and swampy districts in Ceylon

without contracting malaria, the effects of which last through a

lifetime.

When this railway was being built, the coolies employed in the work

died by hundreds from the unwholesome character of the neighborhood,

until the rule was adopted of returning the laborers after the day's

work to Colombo to sleep, bringing them back again after sunrise. It

is the damp night air which prevails in the lowlands, and its

attendant miasma, which proves so fatal. One after another of the

European overseers and engineers sickened, and were compelled to

return home to England before a restoration to health was effected;

while some, apparently the most hardy, and who took the best of care

of themselves, succumbed altogether, and were buried in the island far

from their native land. Better drainage and cleared jungles have

greatly improved the sanitary conditions. The dense forest has been

opened to the influence of purifying breezes and the effect of the

genial sunshine, so that there is much less chance for the pestilence

to find a breeding-place.

Banana groves, with the trees bending under the weight of the rich,

finger-shaped fruit; tall cocoanut-trees, the tops heavy with the

nutritious food they bear; stout tamarinds and juicy mangoes;

ant-hills, looking like young volcanoes, half as high as native huts;

rippling cascades; sharp declivities; glistening pools; white cranes;

tall pink flamingoes, standing like sentinels on the muddy banks; an

occasional monkey leaping among the trees; golden orioles,

gaudy-feathered parrots, and other birds of dazzling hues, are

observed with never-flagging interest from the windows of the slowly

moving cars, while on this inland route to Kandy. The marabou, which

is so much prized for its delicate feathers, is occasionally seen

stalking watchfully by the shaded pools, seizing now and then upon

small reptiles with its formidable bill and devouring them at a single

gulp. It seems strange that these birds can swallow with impunity

snakes and other vicious reptiles while they are yet alive. One would

think that creatures whose bite is often fatal to human beings would

under such circumstances cause a fearful state of commotion in a

bird's crop. If ostriches, however, can swallow and digest large

nails, jackknives, and corkscrews, perhaps the gastric juices of these

smaller birds may have special properties to aid them in effectually

disposing of poisonous reptiles.

How well our first trip inland in Ceylon is remembered. While watching

the novel and intensely interesting sights, the air was heavy with

aromatic fragrance, and sweet with the odor of lilies, while a feeling

of quiet content stole over the senses, as in a half-waking dream from

which one does not desire to be aroused. Was the brain yielding to the

subtle breath of those gorgeous lotus flowers, which opened wide their

delicate pink petals to the sunshine? This queen of the lily tribe,

the lotus, is here seen in two varieties, the pink and the white. They

resemble very closely the common pond-lily of our own climate, but are

thrice their size. The seeds are a mild narcotic, and are sometimes

eaten by the natives to produce that effect. It is said that birds of

the wading family sometimes partake of them until they become

stupefied. The seed is about the size of a hazel-nut, and leaves a

bitter, puckering taste in the mouth.

The white-ant hills which rise to such proportions here and there in

the wooded districts remind us that these minute but marvelously

industrious creatures are one of the great pests of equatorial

regions, and that they are especially destructive in this island.

Attracted by the very dry condition of the wood, they bore holes in

the timbers which form the frames of the better class of dwellings,

and therein lay their eggs. As soon as the young ants are hatched,

they begin to devour the wood, and continue to do so until it falls to

pieces. They operate on the inside, avoiding the outer part, proving

to be the most stealthy of all aggressive invaders, and their presence

is often unsuspected until the mischief is done. The palmyra palm and

the ebony-tree furnish the only timber which resists the serious

ravages of these white ants. The author was shown a bungalow near

Kandy, which was in ruins, where the occupants not long before were

one day surprised by the roof tumbling in upon them while they were

seated at the dinner-table. The supporting timbers were no longer able

to bear their own weight, much less to hold the heavy thatched roof in

place, after having been reduced by the ants to a mere shell. One

would think that where an abundance of fresh, green vegetation and

ripe fruit are to be had, dry timber could have few attractions as

insect food.

One of the species of ants common in Ceylon has been made the subject

of careful investigation by competent naturalists, and with extremely

interesting results. The conclusions arrived at serve to corroborate

previously formed ideas, that of all small creatures the ant is

endowed with the most intelligence. Among other singular facts which

have been discovered, it is now known that when a conflict occurs

between rival tribes of ants, something like a regular military system

is observed by them. They march to the conflict in strict order,

divided into separate columns, which are evidently under command of

different leaders, while the advance is so correctly timed that the

attack upon the enemy is simultaneous. This requires mental

calculation; instinct does not suffice to fix such matters. During the

fight, the ants carry off their dead and wounded to a place of safety

in the rear. A large detail, whose members take no part in the actual

conflict, work like an ambulance corps attached to a well-organized

army. If we were treating the subject in detail, many other

interesting facts might be given, showing the remarkable organization

which exists among them, and the sagacity of these intelligent

insects.

On the island of Mauritius, in the Indian Ocean, the inhabitants

protect themselves against the ravages of the white ants, which if

permitted would commit similar depredations upon their dwellings to

that already spoken of, by pitting a destructive enemy against them.

When it is found that a colony of these termites have invaded a

dwelling, the inhabitant knows that he must act promptly, as these

creatures have big heads and strong jaws, and they destroy rapidly. He

pours some molasses on the ground near by the path by which the white

ants move to and fro between their home and the house. The smell of

the treacle is sure to attract a bevy of black ants, which species is

very fond of sweets. These are the natural enemies of the white ants.

They notice the latter passing regularly back and forth, and govern

themselves accordingly. In a few hours, a whole army of black ants

approaches, marching in a column two yards long. They enter the

infected house in large numbers, leaving a reserve force behind, and

promptly destroy every white ant in the place. Finally the army

marches out, each of the black ants carrying away a dead white one,

which, cannibal-like, they devour!

But we are still on the way by rail to Kandy, and not writing a volume

on natural history, though in making these notes and with the objects

absolutely before one's eyes, the mind--and the pen as well--is apt to

follow the natural suggestions of the subject, even at the risk of

seeming to diverge from the purpose in hand. The patient reader thus

often becomes possessed of facts, the communication of which was

quite unpremeditated by the author. Let us take heed, however, not to

make such detail wearisome.

On remarking to an intelligent resident of the island, who was a

fellow passenger, that no wild animals were to be seen upon the route,

he replied that if we were to leave the more thickly settled district

and strike into the forest, abundant tracks would be met with of

bears, leopards, and elephants. The latter, especially, make broad

paths through the jungle by their heavy tread and shambling gait,

leveling the undergrowth right and left as effectually as could be

done by an army of bushwhacking road-makers. If a small tree impedes

an elephant's progress, he puts his broad forehead against the stem,

bends it so as to place his foot upon the horizontal trunk, and thus

snaps it short off. If it does not yield readily, he winds his trunk

firmly about it and pulls it up by the roots, as a dentist extracts a

rebellious tooth. As a rule, small trees go down before a fleeing

elephant like grass. Buffaloes are found in both the wild and

domesticated condition all over the island, but they abound only in

their wild state in the northern sections. The untamed buffalo is a

dangerous antagonist when assaulted and fairly driven to bay, and many

an English sportsman has been killed by them in Ceylon. The bulls are

particularly savage and pugnacious, giving battle upon the slightest

provocation.

At a point where the cars were stopped for a few moments to obtain a

supply of water for the engine, a female monkey was seen among the

trees, the mother of twins, holding the little things in her arms and

nursing them in a manner so human as to form a most ludicrous picture.

Presently, leaving her little ones in a safe place, she came down to

the cars, and was regaled from our lunch basket with what to her must

have been rare tidbits, supplied from the cuisine of the Grand Hotel

at Colombo. As a rule, the monkey tribe avoid Europeans or white men,

suspecting treachery, while they care very little for the native

people, who rarely interfere with them. The affection of the mother

monkey for its young is something very touching. If one of its little

progeny dies, the mother still clings to it, sometimes for several

days, carrying it about in her arms, until finally some instinct

causes her to lay it away, covered with leaves and the tender young

branches of the bamboo. Europeans have a cruel way of obtaining young

monkeys to take away from the island. It is accomplished by shooting

the mother, after which the bewildered little one is easily secured.

One of these small monkey orphans was brought on board the steamship

in which we left Ceylon, by its cruel captor. It was touching to see

how the diminutive creature had transferred its trust and affection

from its natural guardian to its present owner, to whom it clung

incessantly. Poor little fellow! it was well that it did not know its

new protector to be the sole cause of all its troubles. It proved to

be a bad sailor, and was so seasick that it soon died, but it clung to

its adopted friend to the last moment, who was, we are glad to say,

exceedingly kind to the little waif.

After passing through the low country on the way to Kandy, we began

gradually to climb an up-grade. This was at Rambukana, about fifty miles

from Colombo, two powerful engines being now required to move even our

short train, made up of four cars. The road winds zigzag fashion about the

hills, in startling proximity to the deep, threatening abyss, while the

ever-changing scenery of the Kaduganawa Pass becomes far-reaching and

grand, varied by precipitous declivities, deep green gulches, and falling

waters. The shelving rocks are here festooned with climbing plants,

daintily enriched by blossoms of vivid hues, and flowering creepers. As one

can easily believe, this was an expensive road to build, costing in many

parts over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars per mile, but it is most

thoroughly constructed on a gauge of five feet and six inches. The gradant

in some places is one foot in forty-five. Near the highest part of the line

stands "Sensation Rock," from which a grand and startling view is enjoyed,

recalling a similar experience on the author's part at "Inspiration Point,"

overlooking the never-to-be-forgotten Yosemite Valley in California. This

Ceylon rock has an evil history, it being, according to tradition, the

spot from which the ancient kings of Kandy ruthlessly hurled their

prisoners of war to destruction. This railway is a great success

pecuniarily and otherwise. So well has it been managed that in the

twenty-two years which have transpired since its completion, but one

accident has occurred of any special moment, and no European or American

has ever lost life or limb by mishap while traveling upon the road. It is

to be feared that we cannot cite a similar instance of any railway in this

country.

At last, after a hearty enjoyment of the bold and beautiful scenery

for two hours and more, winding snakelike about the steep acclivities,

and diving into and out of dark, gloomy tunnels, we landed in the old

and picturesque capital of the central province. It is not exactly a

city built upon a hill, but it is a city built among the hills.

The region in this line of latitude between the eastern and western

coast of the island, particularly in the central province, is one of

much grandeur, a country of Alpine heights and deep green valleys.

Here dark ravines and plunging waterfalls multiply themselves. Not

small, spraylike bodies of water, like many in Switzerland, but

fierce, restless bodies of foaming torrents, sweeping headlong over

abrupt declivities three hundred feet in height. The system of

mountains does not form a continuous range, but consists of a

succession of plateaus and of detached mountains rising from elevated

bases. Thus, Adam's Peak, were it to rise to its present height from

a plain at about the level of the ocean, would be far more grand and

impressive than it now is, with its direct upheaval beginning from so

elevated a base. So in the instance of the two famous mountains which

rise from the great Mexican plateau,--Mount Popocatepetl, and Mount

Ixtaccihuatl, which lose seven thousand feet of the effect of their

real height, because their base starts from a plain situated at that

elevation above the sea.

The Pearl of India · 第 11 / 18 章