CHAPTER XIV.

Fifty Miles into Central Ceylon.--Gorgeous Scenic

Effects.--Gampola.--The Singhalese Saratoga.--A Grand

Waterfall.--Haunts of the Wild Elephants.--Something about

these Huge Beasts.--European Hunters restricted.--An Indian

Experience.--Elephants as Farm Laborers in Place of

Oxen.--Tame Elephants as Decoys.--Elephant Taming.--Highest

Mountain on the Island.--Pilgrims who ascend Adam's

Peak.--Nuera-Ellia as a Sanitarium.--A Hill Garden.

From Kandy to Neura-Ellia--"Royal Plains"--(pronounced Nuralia) is a

pleasant drive of fifty miles through the Ramboda Pass, which is

justly celebrated for its series of beautiful waterfalls and

boisterous rapids, affording frequent views of great magnificence. It

is safe to say that in this respect it is the most remarkable part of

the island. The entire route is about six thousand feet above sea

level. At first the course of the Maha-velle-Ganga is closely

followed, the river being crossed at Peradenia by a somewhat

remarkable bridge, consisting of a single arch or span of a little

over two hundred feet, built of satinwood, with stout brick and stone

abutments. The bridge was erected in 1832, without the aid of a single

nail or bolt, and is apparently in perfect condition to-day. The

railway bridge crosses the stream below this point not far away,

resting upon three substantial stone piers. The centre of the

first-named structure is raised between sixty and seventy feet above

the ordinary flow of the water, which is generally of quite a placid

character, but at certain seasons of the year its volume and force are

such as to form a sweeping and dangerous torrent. When this is the

case, there are often borne upon the flood large cocoanut and other

trees, which have stood for many years upon the river's banks, until

thus undermined by the swift-flowing waters. The effect is then very

singular. The trees, which have thus been suddenly transported from

their birthplaces in a growing and often fruit-bearing condition, pile

themselves up after a most extraordinary fashion, forming what is

technically called a "jam."

The hillsides, as seen from the satinwood bridge, are terraced with

rice-fields, while in the distance stands the Allegalla Peak, an

isolated mountain thirty-four hundred feet in height, in connection

with which there are several Singhalese legends, each one more or less

impossible. This element, however, only makes the stories all the more

palatable to the native appetite.

This route takes one through Gampola, which, though it is

insignificant enough at the present time, was the native capital of

Ceylon nearly five hundred years ago. The place is situated amid a

grand panorama of magnificent hills on the banks of the river already

named, which is here crossed by a suspension bridge. The road from

this point to Neura-Ellia begins to ascend the hilly region along the

face of steep acclivities and precipitous banks. One can nearly reach

Neura-Ellia by rail, but the route we have described is by far the

most interesting in point of scenic effects.

This is a Singhalese watering-place, the Saratoga of the island, the

one popular health resort of the wealthy natives, as well as of

strangers and English officials whose headquarters are on the sea

coast. It is situated a little over one hundred miles eastward from

Colombo, at an elevation of nearly seven thousand feet, while the

surrounding mountains are between one and two thousand feet higher.

The English government has established a sanitarium here for invalid

soldiers, and a small detachment of infantry is always stationed on

the spot, more for form than because of any real necessity. It is a

region where cool, gray skies and frequent rains prevail, and where a

fire is needed most of the year, and indeed it is almost a necessity

after sunset at all seasons. The thermometer never rises above 70 deg.

Fahr., and the average temperature is 60 deg.. The change from oven-like

Colombo in midsummer to the air of this invigorating region is truly

delightful. When the author was at Neura-Ellia, early in January

(being at our antipodes, it was then summer in Ceylon), the weather

was lovely, his companions were cultured, appreciative, and

sympathizing, and everything joined in producing a store of delicious

and lasting memories. The strong, invigorating mountain breezes were

most enjoyable after a period of oppressive heat endured on the coast.

The locality recalled a somewhat similar experience in passing from

Calcutta to Darjeeling, an English sanitarium near the foot of the

Himalayan range of mountains, overlooking the plains of Hindustan on

the one hand, while on the other affording a view of that series of

mountains whose loftiest point, Mount Everest, forms the apex of our

globe, its cloud-capped, sky-reaching summit being nearly thirty

thousand feet above the level of the sea.

There are several fairly good hotels at Neura-Ellia, two

banking-houses, a church, a club-house, and a large number of private

cottages scattered about the hills and valley, overlooking a lake of

some two miles in length and a mile in width. This has been stocked

with trout, and now affords a liberal supply of that palatable fish to

the residents.

Not far away, on the Fort McDonald River, there is a grand waterfall,

with a plunge of three hundred perpendicular feet into a dark and

narrow chasm. The river approaches this point over a long succession

of wild, swirling, and foaming cataracts, reminding one of the rapids

above Niagara Falls, though far inferior in breadth and the body of

water which they convey. The hoarse anthem and echo accompaniment of

the McDonald Falls, when heard for the first time, are truly

awe-inspiring.

One has not far to go in the surrounding mountain region to find the

haunts of the wild elephants. They are still to be met with in

considerable numbers, their capture being considered the great

achievement of the chase among hunters of large game. From here

Hindustan has drawn its supply of these animals for many centuries.

The elephant rarely breeds in servitude while domesticated for the use

of man, but in its wild state is a prolific animal, otherwise Ceylon

would long since have been cleared of them. The mother elephant

carries her infant twenty-two months, and after birth suckles it for

two years. The female does not attain her maturity until she is

fifteen years old; the male in his twentieth year. The mother elephant

gives birth to but one calf at a time; twins have never been known.

Small herds range these hills to a height of six thousand feet, where

the nights are often frosty and the cold quite severe. Though they are

natives of tropical regions, this animal seems to be but little

affected by the cold, always avoiding, when it is possible, the direct

rays of the sun. This peculiarity is noticeable in them even when they

are exhibited in our cold northern climate. Unless aroused by the

hunters and driven from deep, cool coverts in the dense forests, the

elephant remains hidden during the daytime. Their roaming for forage

and water, like that of most wild animals, is altogether nocturnal.

Their sustenance is principally the leafage of young shoots of trees,

the wild fig being their favorite. The tender roots of the bamboo

also form a large source of food supply. Rice, however, is the

elephant's choice above all other esculents, and sometimes a small

herd will devastate a whole plantation in a single night. The planters

generally build a bamboo fence about their rice-fields in the

districts liable to be visited by these animals. This would at first

thought seem to be entirely insufficient to keep off so powerful a

creature, but the fact is that a wild elephant in Ceylon is so wary

that he will not trespass upon land thus guarded. Some instinct

teaches him to avoid the place and to seek for food elsewhere. A

simple rope drawn about a field, it is said, will keep him at a

distance. He shrewdly suspects a trap, and has seen so many of his

comrades seized upon and carried away into captivity by means of

corrals, traps, and ropes, that he has learned to associate the idea

of capture with such things, and is constantly on the lookout lest he

also fall a victim to the stratagems of the huntsmen. It is common to

consider one hundred years as the average period of an elephant's

life, but the author has seen an animal doing service in India which

was known to exceed this limit by a score of years.

European sportsmen, attracted to Ceylon in search of this big game,

sacrificed the elephants in mere wantonness until government

interfered, and a heavy fine is now imposed upon any one who kills an

animal of this species. There is no danger of the natives doing

anything of the kind. In the first place they have not the

inclination, and in the next they are not permitted to own firearms of

any sort. Some rich and reckless Englishmen, nevertheless, kill an

occasional elephant simply for the sake of boasting of their prowess,

and pay the government fine accordingly. We say the natives have no

inclination to hunt the elephant, but the wild Veddahs do sometimes

kill them. The animals of this species found in Ceylon are of a

distinctive breed, with some marked differences from those native to

Africa, and are noted for their high degree of intelligence. They are

most prized in India, where they are used by those who can afford to

keep them. The intelligence of this monarch of the forest is shown in

his selection of the most available paths for passing from one part of

the country to another. Major Skinner, the famous road-builder of

Ceylon, tells us how invaluable he found the tracks of the elephants

as a guide in laying out his government routes through the island. He

says the most available crossings of hills, valleys, and rivers were

already distinctly marked by elephant paths, and he followed them with

entire confidence that his engineers could do no better for him, with

all their experience, aided by the most accurate instruments.

The Maharajah of Jeypoor, India, whose generous and regal hospitality

the author has enjoyed, sends elephants to bring his invited guests to

visit him, and also returns them to their residences in the same

manner. The animals which were employed on the occasion referred to

came originally from the Kandy hills in Ceylon. They were docile

creatures, which knelt at the word of command for us to mount to the

frame seats on their backs. Each carried six persons besides the

driver. We were told that it costs as much to feed one elephant as to

keep eight horses. This independent prince has a territory about the

size of Massachusetts, with a million and a half of contented

subjects. His capital--Jeypoor--is the finest and most thrifty native

city in all India, where, wonderful to say, there are no beggars, nor,

so far as a transient visitor could discover, nuisances of any sort to

complain of. It was a dusty season, as is well remembered, but the

streets and squares of the capital were being carefully sprinkled by

native water-carriers,--in a very primitive manner, to be sure, but

showing a due consideration for the comfort of the public.

There is a vast difference between a tame and a wild elephant; the

latter, when entirely subdued and domesticated, is of comparatively

little consequence. His main occupation in our country is that of

eating peanuts, candies, and fruit doled out to him by visitors to the

menageries, and the performance of a few highly sagacious tricks. In

their wild state they are the wariest and most cunning of all the

denizens of the forest. Nor are they devoid of courage and ferocity

when brought to bay, and many experienced hunters have lost their

lives in Ceylon while pursuing them. When domesticated in this island

they are of great service to the farmers, especially in plowing,

harrowing, and rolling the newly broken land. A cultivator which would

anchor half a dozen yokes of native bullocks is walked away with in

the easiest manner imaginable by a single elephant. They are

particularly sagacious in dam-building across streams, and in the

construction of bridges, placing the heavy materials just where they

are required, and even fitting large logs and stones in their proper

places. The amount of food which so large an animal requires is,

however, a serious drawback to their employment. Besides five or six

hundred pounds of green fodder, an elephant must eat at least twenty

pounds of some kind of grain daily, rice preferred, to keep him in

working condition. They are usually seen, in their wild state, in

small herds of ten or twelve, the majority being females, and

generally each one has a calf or baby elephant by her side. There are

also certain males, known as "rogues," that roam the forests singly,

generally vicious old creatures, discarded by their companions, and

always bent upon mischief. These are desperate in the extreme, often

courting a conflict with the hunters, fiercely charging them right and

left. Why they have been excommunicated from the ranks of their former

companions cannot be known, but they are always avoided, both by the

natives and by hunters. No attempt is ever made to domesticate a

"rogue" elephant. They recognize that they are forever ostracized from

the fellowship of their kind, and make no attempt to join other

elephants. The theory is that they have become permanently crazed.

It is well-known that all elephants are liable to brief periods of

delirium, during which they are very dangerous. When the symptoms of

such an occurrence begin to evince themselves, their keeper, always

prepared for such an event, doubles their chains and otherwise

securely confines them until the paroxysm is over. The recovery is

hastened by a brief period of starvation, neither food nor drink being

given the animal until he becomes entirely docile.

For a considerable time, there was an understanding that the rogue

elephant might be hunted and killed, when such an one made his

appearance, but this liberty was taken advantage of by sportsmen, and

when they killed an animal he was represented to have been a rogue

whether he was really so or not, and the authorities were therefore

obliged to enforce the law as regarded all these animals.

The Ceylon elephant is not of the ivory-producing species, though some

of the males do develop good-sized tusks like those of Africa. The

animals of this island have short "grubbers," as they are called,

protruding from their mouths eight or ten inches, with which they

uproot certain species of their favorite food, such as the tender

undergrowth of the juicy bamboo. Had the Ceylon elephant been an

ivory-bearing animal, he would probably have been more closely pursued

by the hunters, and have long since disappeared from the island, which

is so much more accessible than the wilds of Africa, whence the

world's supply is now almost wholly derived.

Strange to say, the elephant in his domesticated or tame state takes

absolute pleasure in acting as a decoy to enable the hunters to

capture wild ones. After the pursuers have, with the tame elephant's

help, driven the wild animal into a corral or stout inclosure in the

forest, and have also, still aided by the tame elephant, secured the

wild one by tying his two hind feet securely to some stout tree, he is

left for a day or two to strain and fret himself until he has fairly

worn out his strength, before he is again approached. Almost the

entire process of breaking in or training a wild elephant is that of

starvation. When at last his spirit is completely broken and his

strength gone for the time being, he becomes amenable to discipline,

almost as much so as one which has been in captivity for years. He

then partakes with eagerness of the food and water which is brought to

him, accepting the same as a sort of peace offering, and gradually

becomes attached to the keeper who has charge of him, and with whose

presence the creature associates the idea of relief and comfort. From

this time forward, firmness and kindness complete the taming process.

It is a mystery how and where they die in their wild state. No

corpses are ever found, except of those which have come to a violent

death by the bullets of the hunters. It is seldom that the animal is

now shot. This is only done in extreme cases, as a live elephant is so

much more valuable than a dead one that the object is now to corral

them, tie them up, and tame them.

The mountains encircling Piduru Talagalla are covered with trees to

their very summits, from a distance seeming to be wrapped in a rich

mantle of deepest green. This elevation is the loftiest on the island,

considerably exceeding Adam's Peak, the legendary apex of Ceylon, a

conclusion arising from the fact that the latter is to be seen from

the ocean before any other portion of the island, and long before the

lighthouse of Colombo is made out from on ship-board. The dense forest

in this region contains many wild animals besides elephants.

A high degree of religious importance attaches to the act of ascending

Adam's Peak, which is situated fifteen miles south of Neura-Ellia.

Consequently, at certain seasons of the year, the mountain side is

covered with pilgrims, who camp there during the night, and perform

their religious devotions on the summit during the day. A special

effort is made by the pilgrims to reach the top so as to see the sun

rise, and to meet its first rays upon bended knees in devout prayer,

like the ancient fire-worshipers. Steps are cut in the steep, rocky

sides of the precipitous ascent, to overcome the abruptness of which,

here and there, requires the aid of chains, which are fastened

securely in the solid rock for this purpose. Judging from the style

and condition of these, they have probably been in use for centuries.

Religious faith must be all-absorbing with a people, to bring them

such distances from northern India to bow down to a supposititious

footprint in Ceylon.

All Eastern people are famous for making distant pilgrimages to what

are considered sacred places, and especially Buddhists, who attach

immense importance to such performances.

Before leaving Neura-Ellia, let us say a word as to its fitness for

invalids, since Ceylon is becoming more and more of a resort for such

persons, especially those afflicted with weakness of the lungs. It may

be fairly questioned if this locality be not too damp for pulmonary

invalids. It is very often wrapped in cold, dense clouds for many

hours together, so that the air is heavy with a sort of Scotch mist.

Still, the place is growing, and many persons have great faith in its

sanitary importance. The number of English cottages is increasing, and

the hotels are well filled in the summer season. The cost of living at

this resort in the hills is so great that only those who have long

purses can afford it. Rents are high, and domestic articles of

consumption cost about double what is usually charged at Colombo,

whence nearly all table provisions are brought.

Six miles from here is an interesting hill garden, designed to

supplement that already described near Kandy, and which is under the

same able management. Flowers do not receive much attention in either

of these conservatories, useful and remarkable trees taking precedence

of all other forms of vegetation. Here one sees some examples of the

goraka, with its stem and branches quite yellow from the gamboge which

they exude; tall ferns like baby palms, fifteen feet in height; and

other peculiar trees clad in crimson bloom or blossoms of snowy

whiteness, together with some hardy fruits.

On approaching the coast, one often meets with what is called the

screw pine, but which, it would seem, should be called the screw palm.

It bears sword-like leaves, similar to the South American yucca, and

is decked with blossoms of wonderful fragrance. The most peculiar

characteristic of the tree, however, is its aerial roots, which are

thrown from the trunk above ground, but when they reach the soil they

take root in it and serve as props to the delicate stem. The effect is

grotesque and artificial.

The Pearl of India · 第 14 / 18 章