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The Silent India - Forgotten Books

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Th e S i e n t Ind ia

Being

Tales and Sketches of the Masses

L IEUT .

-COL . S . J . THOM SON , C . I .E .

IND IAN MED ICAL SERVICE (RET IRED )

PVI TH ILLUS TRA TI ON S

Wi lliam Blackwo od and Sons

Edinburgh and London

1 9 1 3

P REFACE.

INDIA , with its over three hundred mill ions of

inhabitants, of different races , castes , creeds , and

occupations,and with its varieties of cl imate ,

geograph ical configuration , &c. ,presents a subject

W ith which no single work , however extensive ,can adequately deal . It would be almost as

reasonable to write i n a similar manner upon

Europe,for races in India differ quite as much

from one another as they do i n the latter con

tinent ; and, moreover , there is apparent ; in the

East a cleavage between the urban and rural

populations in the same area , Wh ich i s far more

definitely marked than in the West.

There are indeed two Indias : the India of

the large towns from Which the casual visitordraws his impressions , and Which W i th considerable clamour voices the aspirations of perhaps a

tenth of the total population of the country ;and the India— the real India— of the silent

Vi PREFACE .

mill ions who lead a simple rural l ife,contented

w i th the thoughts and occupations of thei r fore

fathers,inherited from the distant past . This

is the population of which only the experienced

Anglo -Indian has any real cognisance,and it is

from long contact with th is that he principally

derives those feelings of kindliness and sympathy

wh ich make for friendsh ip and esteem between

the races .

We are accustomed in Europe to regard the

voice of'

the great centres of populat ion in most

matters as that of the people generally,but it

would be unwise to adopt thi s idea as regards

our great dependency,for Opinion and sentiment

,

though unexpressed,may be very strong and

deep -rooted,and i t i s as well to grasp the fact

that there i s a great gulf fixed between the

views of the urban and rural communities on

many very weighty and important points . In

India , education , such as i t i s (only ten per centof the male population , and one per cent of the

female populat ion,can read and write ) , i s prin

cipally confined to towns ; and meagre though

this amount may appear , i t nevertheless has

considerable influence in leavening thoughts and

ideas in such local ities . But the population in

the villages is probably one of the most ill iterate

and s imple -minded in the world .

P REFACE . v ii

Mr Yusaf Ali correctly says that agricultureis the basis of all Indian l ife . At least two - th irds

of the people belong to the rural classes , and , in

proportion to population,there are probably ten

people engaged in the cultivation of land and

all ied occupations,to one in England . The in

direct influence of towns is far less fel t than is

the case at home,and

,except in a few instances ,

i s practically imperceptible some twenty or th irty

miles from even a large'

city . This great s ilent

population,l iving its own somewhat primitive

l ife , is, as we said , almost uneducated as we

understand the term , i s deeply conservative in

thought,intell igent in the pursui t of its special

occupations,and is

,moreover , at the present time

contented. From it we mostly draw our recruits

for the Indian Army and Police . Amid the flood

of l iterature on India we obtain but glimpses of

the l ife , environment, thoughts and customs of

these , to-day , pol itically inert masses , for they

come but superficially under the observation of

the traveller or student . They are shy and

suspicious of strangers , and give their confidence

slowly and cautiously often masking considerable

common-sense and shrewdness under an affecta

tion of stupidity very effective in attaining the

desired obj ect— which is , as a rule , simply to heleft alone .

P REFACE .

Officials, such as District Officers and others ,who know these people well

,have usually l ittle

leisure for l iterary work outside their regular

and exacting duties , and, moreover , do not gener

ally grasp the idea that descriptions of details

and incidents with which they are so familiarised

(and slightly bored) can possess any attraction

for other persons differently situated ; but the

present writer has conceived the impression that

many people in England really are desirous of

information regarding th e conditions of existence

in the Silent India,though he realises that they

are so utterly dissimilar to those of wh ich the

home-dweller has had any actual experience,that

the drama o f l ife i n our great dependency cannot

be presented to such persons in a manner l ikely

to excite imuch interest , especially in the absence

of any acquaintance wi th its setting. He cannot

presume to hope that any efforts of his can

materially remove th is disabi lity,but in the

following tales and sketches (two of which , “ An

Indian V i llage ” and “ A Religious Fair,have

appeared in Blackwood ’s Magazine ’ and the‘Nineteenth Century and After

,

’ and are repro

ducedwith the kind permission of the proprietors)he has endeavoured to draw some pictures of l ife

among the rural inhabitants o f India,which may

serve to throw a sidel ight on some of the ways

P REFACE. i x

and customs of the less known people of the land .

Perhaps in extenuation of his temerity in attempt

ing th is task i t i s desirable that he should submit

his credentials . As Deputy Sanitary Commis

sioner, and , later, as Sanitary Commissioner with

the Government of the United Provinces,for

upwards of a quarter of a century , the nature

of his duties necessitated his almost continuous

wandering among,not only the urban , but also

the rural,classes

,i n what has been described in

a Government paper as the most typical area in

British India ; and the incidents related in the

present l ittle work are all actual facts with in

the writer’s own knowledge,or are based upon

well founded and trustworthy information .

The illustrations are from p hotographs taken

by the author’s valued friend,Mrs Ada Corbett

Wilson , and h is daughter Dorothy , and are re

produced with their kind permission .

S. J THOMSON.

CON T E N T S .

1 . AN INDIAN VILLAGE

1 1 . LALLoo’

s REWARD

111. THE GARDEN or INDIA .

1v. AN EASTERN VOYAGE

v. CAMP LIFE AND SP ORT

v1 . A VILLAGE TRAGEDY

v11. A REL IG IOUS FA IR

v111. A P AINFUL MEMORY

1x. AN ORIENTAL STRATAGEM

x. THE L ITTLE CR I CKET

x1. THE M ISADVENTURES OF P AIGA

THE HOLY LAND OF THE H INDUS

CON CLUS ION

INDEX

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS .

P AGE

LOW-CASTE VILLAGERS AND THE IR DWELL INGS Fronti sp z'

ece

IRRIGATING THE FIELDS FROM WELLS

VILLAGE SCENE

A MUTINY VETERAN AT THE RES IDENCY

THE VILLAGE WELL

OUR SHOOT ING ELEPHANTS

START ING FOR A snoo'r

A BATmNG-GHAT

LEAVING CAMP

COUNTRY CART AND BAGGAGE

THE HIMALAYAS,FROM A LOFTY P EAK

,SHOWING CLOUD

EFFECTS IN VALLEYS

OFFICE WORK IN CAMP

THE S I LENT I NDI A.

AN INDIAN VILLAGE .

AT the bottom of all the unrest in India to-day i sthe unsettl ing of men ’s minds due to the diffusionof some sort of education and the greater andmore frequent contact with the West and itsideas . There are many men who View th is sol

vent and disintegrating process with equanimity,

and even satisfaction,as be ing a necessary phase

of transition from a lower to a higher intellectualplane , and indeed tha t this stage must be gonethrough is indisputable . But there are others

,

and these not inexperienced or foolish,who won

der where,when the floodgates are fully Opened ,

the torrent of educational progress will pass,and

with what results . They point out that thesource is vast

,the water not a lways free from

turbidity , and they fear lest the flood thus letloose over the country may sweep away much

A

2 THE SILENT INDIA .

of wha t has taken centuries to create , andwhichi s worthy of careful preservation . They ask invain for the des igns and plans of the train ingworks and channels through which the mass of

troubled waters is to be led and directed,and

they altogether deny that there is any indicationthat such an extensive outlet for pent-up forcesi s demanded . They consider (to pursue the an

alogy ) that the restricted irrigation operat ionsconducted up to the present time have not beenan unqualified success , and have brought tothe surface a quantity o f obj ectionable matters ,formerly h idden and innocuous , which have causeda distinct decrease in the out -turn of useful produce , and that the raising of the water - tablehas even led to a lamentable falling-ofi

i n thepublic health .

However th is may be , i t seems clear that having put our hands to the plough we cannot lookback , but must persist in our efforts

,relying

largely on the comfortable philosophy that weshall muddle out al l right somehow in the end.

The bantl ing must cut its teeth,albeit to the

considerable discomfort of its nurse . It is our

du ty,we are assured , to assume the white man

’sburden ” —an obligation the recognition of which

,

however,is of comparatively recent origin . Our

immediate reward appears to be the prevalenceof “ unrest

,

” and the extent of th is has been considerably enlarged by circumstances over whichwe have had no control whatever.

4 THE SILENT INDIA.

considered by the Administration to be shownby the recent census to be too great.The average nat ive o f India , again , i s no socia l

economist,and, i f he had h is way , would probably

not permit the exportat ion of a s ingle grain of cornfrom the country . Old people have related tothe writer stories of local distress in past times

,

before railways were largely distributed in India,

but they nearly always capped the narration byadding that in years of bumper crops grain wasso cheap and plenti ful that a man could go toa landowner’s granary and take away what hewanted almost for the asking. In their memoriesthey set one time against another , regarding bothas dispensations o f Providence . Such being thementa l attitude o f a considerable section of thepopulation

,the sedition - monger finds h is task

sufficiently easy . The connection between thetrouble and the Government is not clear to thepeople

,and he supplies the explanation. The

statements of such men to the i r hearers wouldbe received with derision by a European audience ;but the case is very different in India .

This general feel ing of vague discontent isas already said , doubtless abroad , and may becorrectly termed “ unrest .” It has been verylargely dispelled by the recent Royal V i s i t to thecountry

,and th is strik ing proof, not only of our

i ntention o f remaining in India , but also of theKing-Emperor’s deep interest in his subj ects

,has

removed very much of the suspicious uncertainty

AN INDIAN VILLAGE . 5

which is understood by the expression referred to .

With improved times i t may be fairly expectedto subside . It differs greatly from the hostil i tyand organised action of the extremists . Speakinggenera lly

,the latter have suffered comparatively

l ightly from such afflictions as famine and plague ,and their attitude must be described by a muchstronger term . Although the real unrest mayeasily develop into a different and more dangerousfeel ing

,at the present time the two conditions

may be largely dealt with separately and whereasin one case a conciliatory and reassuring policy isindicated

,and has been clearly enunciated by His

Maj esty at Delhi,i n the other stern repression is

called for. Active sedition and temporary discontent are two different phases of thought

,and

should be differently treated ; and th is indeedappears to be the view of the administrators of thecountry at the present time .The present situation is perplexing and evenpathetic . It is difficult for the old Anglo-Indian—even to one who , l ike the author , has butrecently left the country— to real ise that recentcrimes could have been committed , or to bel ievethat the mass of the people , so docile and amiable if understood , is really seriously disaffected .

Doubtless there is a section , intoxicated with ideaswe have incautiously inculcated

,which furnishes

ready tools for a small number of dangerous conspirators. As regards the latter , there can beno question as to th e course to pursue but in

6 THE S ILENT INDIA.

deal ing with the cases of immature youths whoare their vict ims

,i t may perhaps be doubted

whether capital punishment is a really deterrentpenalty . It bestows a martyrdom— spurious , i t istrue

,but what the neuroti c lad seeks . Penal

servitude with transportation would largely defeat th is obj ect

,and in India is a punishment often

more dreaded than death .

The desires and aspirations of the advancedparty are somewhat nebulous . They know wellenough that such a th ing as a united India

,with

i ts various races , castes , and creeds , i s impossible ;and if i t were a question o f coming under the ruleof another foreign Power

,they would probably ( if

they had any voice in the matter , which is unl ikely ) elect to remain as they are , preferring tobear the il ls they have to flying to others thatthey know not of. There is no such th ing as anIndian nation and when th is expression is usedin pol itical publications and speeches

,a cynical

smile is apt to cross the faces of those acquaintedwith the real facts o f the case . The area ofIndia is about square miles

,and its

total population,according to the last census , was

souls. Size for size , there is probablyno tract of country in the whole world presentinggreater diversit ies among the inhabitants . Whatis there in common between the Bengal i and thePathan

,between the Goorkha and the Mahratta ,

the Sikh and the Madrass i ? There are wholeraces which practically never leave the j ungles

AN INDIAN VILLAGE .

learned in forest- lore , but hardly acquainted withthe rudiments of civ il isation ; and whole tribes,nomadic from tradition and choice

,who have

never known a home,and of which the men are

nearly all th ieves and the women nearly all immoralnot from vice , but because their ancestors have

never been anything e lse . Efi’

orts made by th eState to reclaim these people

,by keeping them in

settlements and teaching them trades,have only

resulted in ghastly failure,for the people died l ike

wild beasts in captivity,and the well-intentioned

but cruel experiments were perforce abandoned .

They are all apparently claimed as part of theIndian nation

,

” panting for progress and electiveinstitutions 1

As regards the advanced educated section , theproblem seems to be to a considerable extent thatof the unemployed . The crowds of i ntell igent, ifsomewhat inflated,

lads studying at our schoolsand colleges

,have mostly one goa l before them

a good appointment,and preferably under Gov

ernment . Their education has often taught themto despise the call ing and status of their fathers ,and their nimble bra ins are seeth ing with vagueambitious thoughts . There i s someth ing patheti cabout the situation

,for only a small proportion

can ever attain their desires . The writer ad

vances the Opinion with considerable diffidence ,that it i s extremely doubtful whether the systemof high educational tests and competit ive examinations i s altogether suited to India. For one

8 THE SILENT INDIA.

reason,reward for success is extremely uncertain .

That is to say,in Europe a lad who surpasses h is

competi tors and attains a cademic distinction mayconfidently expect to have h is talents recognised ,and to be gratified by the offer o f good employment

,but th is is by no means the rule in India .

The great obj ect of the maj ority of students is ,as said before

,to obtain a remunerative post

generally a clerksh ip . The craving for learningin itsel f is probably exceptional . Now

,however

astute and careful the head of an otfice may be ,the se lection of young men for many of suchappointments i s sure to l ie very largely withthe superior Indian officials i n the clerical de

partment , and i n practice, unless the greatestcare be exercised , the staff becomes more or lessa family party

,where no claims are considered

superior to those of brotherhood . This i s thecase both in Government and private offices.

Disappointment and resentment follow the failureof cherished and legitimate hopes

,and among such

men the agitator finds ready recruits. It mayseem easy to recti fy th is , but experienced officers

know better.People in England hardly real ise perhaps howmany important Government posts are

,as a

matter of fact,held by natives of India ; the

principle of“ la carriere ouverte aux talens i s

observed,and practically all the public services

are open to them . Still,nevertheless

,the supply

of candidates largely exceeds the number of avail

AN INDIAN VILLAGE . 9

able appointments,and the country swarms with

promising lads who could do well enough if onlythey would direct their energies into channelsother than clerica l and official . Engineering ,medicine

,art

,forestry— there are many lines in

life where a good l iving could be obtained withoutinterference with caste

,or entering Government

service . Law has a lways had a great attractionfor them

,and the profession i s largely over

stocked,— indeed the low - class lawyer and ad

vocate is far too much in evidence. He is clever ,but too often disloyal

,and most unfortunately

monopolises an altoge ther undue proportion ofseats on municipal and district councils . It i sdifficult for the simple man to understand theprocedure of the Courts— some legal agency i snecessary ,— and in a country where perj uredwitnesses are numerous and cheap

,going to law

is very much what an American author describespoker a beautiful but uncertain game , — whichappears to have a peculiar fascination for theOriental . In former times much of what is nowfought out in the Courts was satisfactorily andgratuitously adjusted by the v illage tribunals

,and

the decadence of these is much to be regretted .

Medicine attracts many youths of good casteand extraction . This might excite surprise

,but

we may remember that there is an old bond between the healing art and Brahmanism . Thewriter has a good opinion of Indian doctors as aclass , although the requisite decision and nerve

1 0 THE SILENT INDIA .

are sometimes absent . A good deal of discontentis born and fostered in Bengal

,and to the resi

dents of th is part of the country (and indeed tostudents generally ) the Army offers no career .Technical education is a promising remedy

,and

the Government i s al ive to the fact and is deal ingwith the requirement

,but it i s uph ill work , for

manual labour of any kind does not commenditself at the present t ime to the higher castes ,and reports on the subj ect are depressing reading.

There are some who look to the gradual extinctionof caste as l ikely to lead to rel ief

,but

,apart from

considerations as to whether such a change ofthought is from all po ints of view desirable (whichthe writer entirely disbelieves) , the prospect of

any such th ing happening on a large scale in thenear future is exceedingly improbable . Nevertheless th is i s the tendency , and probably in thesteady encouragement of technical education l iesthe best hope of remov ing the difficulty . Timeand a suitable course of study may be reasonablyexpected gradually to loosen

,without dissolving

,

caste t ies and prej udices sufficiently to permit ofthe adoption of forms of employment by the highercastes wh ich they now rej ect

,and this without

the extinction of caste i tself, or any interferencewith the rel igions of the land .

There is undoubtedly a sore on the body politic ;the risk is that we may look at i t with a microscope (made in Europe ) and treat i t as if thewhole constitution were diseased .

1 2 THE SILENT INDIA .

we know approximately what they demand— forthe present. How far are these people entitled tospeak with any authority regarding the feel ingsand aspirat ions of India as a whole ? They areconfined a lmost entirely to the larger towns andcities , and indeed constitute only a very smallproportion of the population of these. Let us

take a few figures. From the census of 1 91 1 welearn that the total popula tion of our dependencywas of which (deducting the peoplein the Native States) per cent was directlyunder the rule o f the British Government . Of

th is population , not less than two - th irds are agriculturists or directly concerned in the cultivationof land. We further find that

,as S ir Thomas

Holderness has told us in his interesting work ,‘ Peoples and Problems of India

,

’ on ly ten percent of the male population and one per cent of

th e female population can read and write,and not

more than one in three hundred has any knowledge of English . Now

,what do we know about

the thoughts andwishes of th is great maj oritythe Silent India h from wh ich we draw our recruitsfor the Army and Pol ice , and which pays thegreater part of the revenue

'2 Is i t desirous of

change , and is it , as a body , disposed to regardthe gift of higher education as a boon , or toaccept its possession as a criterion of merit ? Thereply of the maj ority of experienced Anglo-Indianswould

,i t i s bel ieved

,he in the negative. How

ever much it is to be regretted , there is l ittle

AN INDIAN VILLAGE . 1 3

seeking after knowledge at the present time amongthe fighting races , and that the pen is mightierthan the sword is a proposition they are by nomeans inclined to accept. The wise and loyal oldMuhammadan

,Sir Syed Ahmad Khan of Aligarh

,

when he referred contemptuously to the giz -gizof the pen , spoke for many more than h is own

co-religionists . They are far behind the feeblerraces of the lower prov inces educa tionally , andthey are well aware of the fact . To elevate themasses intellectually is a Very proper and generousdesire

,but many think that there is a pol itical

side to the quest ion which has hardly receivedsufficient consideration , and that is that the movement

,i f too strenuous , may excite a fear in the

minds of the warl ike races of being brought moreor less under the power of others which

,however

intellectual,they nevertheless despise . Many of

the educated reformers who clamour for morepower and pay have , i t must be remembered ,broken with the habits and ideals of their own

country,and are regarded by the Hindu and

Muhammadan masses al ike with disl ike and sus

picion ,and by the proud aristocracy with stronger

feel ings still . One of the grea t secrets of our

success in India is our impartial ity to all classes ,and no breath of suspicion regarding this should bepermitted to arise .No wise Government would ignore the reasonable claims and wishes of any of i ts subj ects

,and

there undoubtedly exists a considerable section

1 4 THE SILENT INDIA.

which,while loyal

,does desire

,with much j ustice ,

a larger share in the administration of the affairsof the country but th is ambition i s by no meansconfined to the more highly educated class . Forefficiency in administration , i t i s impossible toel iminate the necessity of a certa in amount of

intellectual knowledge,but i f the standard of th is

be placed too h igh,the effect would be to prao

tically exclude the races whose power for offencei s infinitely greater than that of those possessingthe required qualification . The matter is oneregarding which philanthropists and scholars mayfind themselves in opposit ion to the v iews of

practical statesmen,and is of grave moment . The

difficulty i s h ow to satisfy certain classes withoutal ienating others . The Government i s well awareof these facts

,and certain recent action was un

quest ionably called for. We have gone too far toreasonably recede from our posit ion . At the sametime

,i t should be remembered that the principal

observed result of the introduction of electiveinstitutions so far has been the appearance inthe pol itical arena of a great number of pushingnobodies

,glib of tongue , speaking , as S ir Thomas

O verbury says , sentences more familiarly thansense

,

” not of such extraction as commands respectin a highly conservative country like India

,and

whose principa l claim to consideration is the facultyo f absorbing education , as the term is understoodin that country . The last is no test of character

,

and experienced officers may be forgiven for re

AN INDIAN VILLAGE . 1 5

garding the whole scheme at present as experi

mental. Opin ions therefore will of course differon the question of the expediency of grantingsuch extended representation on Provincial Councils. A shrewd and educated Indian gentlemanof high position is reported to have said that themasses do not want it , and that noth ing willsatisfy the irreconcilables . Still , in view of theundoubted material ( the adj ective is used advisedly ) progress of the people generally , the measure ,if properly safeguarded

,i s

'

probably wise . Thesah ib

,

”however

much l iked and trusted,i s never

theless always an alien . But it is sincerely to behoped that a good proportion of the new repre

sentatives elected by the people will be men of

real weigh t and good birth , and , indeed , thenatural leaders o f the people . The crying wantof the country is more rel iable and trustworthychannels through which the pol icy and good intentions of the Government can be conveyed andexplained to the masses

,and for th is purpose it i s

to the nobil ity and gentry of the country we mustmostly look . With them on the side of Britishrule

,the support of that section of the popul ation

which will really count in time of trouble can berel ied on. Unfortunately , men of the stamp re

quired are by no means incl ined in India to appealto the suffrages of the proletariat.In view of the fact that , as said before , tw othirds at least of the population are concernedwith agriculture

,i t may be not altogether unin

1 6 THE SILENT INDIA .

teresting to consider the question of land tenure ,and to depict , however feebly , the conditionsunder wh ich the average village r l ives . As regardsthe first point : in 1 793 Lord Cornwall is introduced a permanent settlement into Bengal bywhich the demand of the State was fixed forever— a measure the wisdom o f which has beenlargely questioned . Nowadays over the greaterpart of India a system of period ical settlement hasbeen established

,under which the State demand

is rev ised at recurring periods of from ten toth irty years . When the revenue i s assessed bythe State permanently or temporarily on anindividual or on a community owning an estateanalogous to that of a landlord , the assessmentis known as zamindari andwhen the revenueis imposed on individuals who are , or represent

,

the actual occupants of holdings , the arrangementis known as “ ryotwari .” Under either systemthere may be rent-paying sub- tenants .In the surveyed and sett led area 47 per centof the total area is held by peasant proprietors

,

while 20 per cent i s held by permanently settledand 33 per cent by temporarily settled proprietors .It is stated in the last Blue -Book on

“ Moraland Material Progress in India

,from wh ich the

above remarks are taken , that the burden of the

land revenue per head o f population is abouteighteen - pence . It is further stated that theBritish Government takes a very much smallershare of the gross produce than was customary

AN INDIAN VILLAGE . 1 7

before the days of our rule,and that the assess

ments are lower than those that prevail generallyin Native States . Increased product iveness , dueto private improvements

,i s considerately dealt

with , reductions are made in the case o f deterio

ration , and large remissions allowed on occasionsof distress such as that caused by famine . A

noticeable fact is the large proportion of theassessed area held by peasant propr ietors .With this brief sketch of the tenure underwhich he holds his land , we

pass on to the con

sideration o f th e l ife of the agriculturist , andperhaps the best plan will be to attempt todescribe a village and its inhabitants in UpperIndia to-day

,i n an area which the Government of

India has described in a recent Parl iamentary paperas fairly typical of the whole of the dependency .

B eera Singh i s what we should call a smallfarmer

, of good caste , and l iving in the l ittle v illageof Muddunpore in the United Provinces , owninghis own land of some four or five acres in extent,which has been in h i s family for many years

,

albeit it i s rather heavily mortgaged to RuttunLal

,the vi llage shopkeeper and moneylender , on

account of the expenses incurred in the marriageof his two daughters some years ago . He hastwo sons

,stalwart lads

,who help h im in h is

work, so that h is mind is at ease as to the

releasing of his soul and i ts saving from Hellwhen the t ime comes for h im to be laid to drawhis last breath upon the ground and for h is body

B

1 8 THE SILENT IXDL—L

to be cremated at the burning-ghét . One is veryanxious to become a rec ruit in the

“ S irkar’s ”

(Government’s) army , but his father needs him

on the farm,and parental authori ty is respected

among uneduca ted folk in Indi a . Old MehrS ingh

, the S ikh nat ive officer who has ret iredand owns a l itt le land in a v illage a few milesoff, is responsible for unsettling his m ind , and thelad often trudges 0 1? across the fields to listen tothe old man ’s stori es of how Robe rt s Sah ibBahadur marched from Kabul to Kandahar andsca ttered the Afghan army there . Mehr Singh hadmarched with h im in a regiment wh ich averagedfiv e feet nine in height , and w as never t ired of t ela ting , with addit ions as t ime w ore ou , the gall antdeeds they all pe rformed there . He told of therace up to the guns in the charge at Kanda har , andhow a li ttle Goorkha first up wit h a Highlander,j umped upo n the smoking field-piece and rammedh is cap with its badge down the muz z le

,shouting

This gun be longs to my regiment ,” and many

other stories to whi ch the vil lagers listen withbreathl ess interest . The boy had almost runaw ay once when he stood by and saw the old

Subadar,

”in full uniform and all his medals on,

and w ith his long moustache and wh iskers tiedbeh ind his neck (for a S ikh never cuts his hair,and must carry co ld steel upo n h is person ) , comeout and present the h il t of h is sword to be

touched by the Colonel Sahib , who happened tobe camping and shoot ing by the small lake nea r

20 THE SILENT INDIA .

She is not devoid of vanity , and the skirt shewears

,and the shawl or “ chudder with which

she carefully covers her head and face on suchoccasions

,are of the best material from Rampore

and Dacca,and elaborately embroidered . Heera

Singh h imself is rarely seen in gala dress ; whenhe is

,he appears with a voluminous wh ite

puggri on h is head,a long purple coat of a

strange cut ornamented with gold filigree , andhis legs and feet adorned with th i ck wh itestockings

,far too large for him

,and proj ecting

some inches beyond h is toes . How he gets theminto the red leather shoes with the green patcheson the turned-up points , i s a mystery.

Poor Lukshmi , i t must be conceded , i s no t

enl ightened . She regards h igher education withmisgivings

,as calculated to disturb religious be

l iefs and engender contempt for parents she

views an owl with horror ; makes obeisance tothe god of fire when she lights the lamps atnight ; and has conscientious obj ections to vacci

nation , as an operation l ikely to offend the goddessconnected with the appearance of smallpox . Shehas three l ittle ch ildren , besides the grown -upones ; there have been others between , but two ,

fortunately daughters , were swept away whencholera last visited the village

,and one

,a l ittle

boy,unhappily passed away from some unknown

malady most probably caused by a stroke of theEvil Eye . She has help , but there are numerousdomestic duties which she sees to herself : the

AN INDIAN VILLAGE . 2 1

care of the young ones,the cooking o f the food ,

the mending of the clothes , &c. Then the idolmust be kept cool by l ibat ions of water , probablybrought back in bottles on the occasion of thelast visit to Hardwar ; there are the daily devotions

,and the consultations with the priest as to

auspicious days for the performance of certainrites and duties ; the visits to festivals and relatives, &c. , &c. Lukshmi

s l ife i s not dull from herpoint of view

,and she is quite content with her

posit ion , though she cannot‘

reador sign her nameto save her l ife. She hears of the doings of herEuropean sisters with no envy , but some surprise ,but then , as she and her husband pleasantly agree ,all sah ibs are more or less mad .

Much ignorant nonsense is spoken and writtenabout the miserable and degraded position ofwoman in India . She holds the same power andinfluence which women , as women , exercise allthe world over . Such statements are (as MarkTwain says regarding the report of h is death )much exaggerated .

Heera Singh h imself can only just read andwrite sufficiently in the vernacular to keep acheck on the mach inations of Ruttun Lal thetrader

,and to carry on a l imited correspondence

with h is acquaintances on scraps of th in browncountry paper , weirdly addressed

,and incapable

of comprehension by any but the loca l nat ivepostman ; but he knows h is own business verywell . His t ime is spent almost entirely in the

22 THE SILENT INDIA .

fields,and his system o f cropping is arranged to

suit the rainfa ll,which

,in Upper India

,i n normal

years , i s plentiful between the end of June andthe middle o f October , with a l igh ter fall in thecold weather about Christmas . The summer cr0 pconstitutes the and the winter the“ rabi . January and February are largely oc

cuP ied i n irrigating the“ rabi ” crop

,which will

be harvested in March and April . This is a busytime —water is e ither obtained from wells

, or i sl i fted from lakes in baskets by two or four men

,

who swing the receptacle with ropes into thewater

,and then empty it at the higher level into

the channel by wh ich i t i s meant to flow into thefields. It is very hard work , and the methodcannot be employed when the l i ft i s more than afew feet. Harvesting is very differently carriedout to what it i s in England . The cr0 p being cutwith the s ickle

,i s carried at once to the thresh ing

floor,a well beaten-down piece of land in the fields,

where the grain i s trodden out by cattle as it wasin the days of the Israel i tes , and the winnowing isperformed by letting the grain fall from a heighton a windy day , when the husks are blown awayas the kernels fa l l to the ground .

May and June are slack months,i n which he

repairs h is house and does various odd j obs forwhich there is no t ime in the busy seasons . J ulyis fully occupied with sowing and weeding

,and in

August and September comes the plough ing for the“ rabi .” In October he commences to gather in

AN INDIAN VILLAGE . 23

the “ khareef harvest and sows for the wintercrop . The latter work over , he fin ishes the winding

-up of the khareef,” and irrigates the “ rabi ”

until the end of the year.The khareef i s the summer crop , and includesvarious cereals

,maize (Zea JlI aya ) , rice , millets , of

which the principal are juar ’’

(And7’

0p ogon sor

ghum) and “ baj ra (P ennisetum typ hoideum,or

sp ica tzun) , pul ses , o il - seeds,and fibres. In the

“ rabi ” are included wheat , barley , oats , gram ”

(ch ick pea) , peas , lentils , potatoes , mustard , andvarious pulses . There are specia l crops

,such as

sugar-cane,cotton , poppy , tobacco , &c .

, but theseare not often attempted by the smal l cultivator ,though many of the vil lagers grow a l ittle tobaccofor the ir own use . Rude as i s the system

,still the

principle of rotations i s p i ese i ved,much intelli

gence is shown in the selection of the right soiland situation for each ci op ,

and even wha t st1 ikesa European with surprise

,the frequent plan o f

growing mixed forms of produce in the same field,

i s no haphazard arrangement,but is adopted as

a sort of insurance,so that if one crop fails the

other may succeed .

Among the th ings wh ich probably most strikethe traveller on h is return home to England aftera long absence , are the number of hedges and thegeneral orderl iness of things agricultural (wh ichWendell Holmes has also noted ) , and , i f his ex il ehas been passed in the East

,the great size of the

horses, cattle , and sheep , and the deserted appear

24 THE SILENT INDIA .

ance of the fields. In India the last are teemingwith l ife and colour : men , women , and ch ildren atwork

,or passing along the roads or footpaths

,

give a bustl ing aspect to the scene , and the blueand red garments mostly worn by the agriculturalwomen

,dotted about among the green crops , give

a very brigh t and pleasing impression to the eye .

During the day the Vi llage is practically abandoned ,and somehow or other there always seems to besomething or other to employ the people— sowing ,weeding

,i rrigating

,harvesting

,and planting out

rice . When the crops are ripening,l ittle rough

platforms are erected in the fields, from' whenceboys and men watch these day and night , wagingan incessant war against the birds of the air,especially flocks of parrakeets (there are no parrotsi i i India ) , shriek ing all the time , and hurl ingstones with much accuracy from sl ings againstthe feathered marauders .With h is two lusty sons

,Heera Singh needs

l i ttle outside help,but when he does, he pays

mostly in kind,— that is

,i n allowances of flour

,

grain,and pulses

,with an occasional rupee or

two . One of his sons guides the oxen up and

down the ramp when he is l ifting water in a bigleathern bag from the well to irrigate h is fields,and he usually himself stands above the well anddirects the wa ter into th e proper channels. Thisoperation i s rather complicated

,and is very im

portant : the field i s d ivided into l ittle enclosuresby means of slight elevations of soil some six

26 THE SILENT INDIA .

i ts welcome shade over the ground . In some partsof the country it furnishes an important sourceof food - supply . The flowers are sweet and greatlybeloved of bears ; the sugar they contain is readilyconverted into alcohol , and much native Spirit isd istilled from them . The “ mango ” often growsto a large size

,and its luscious fruit i s more im

portant as a source of food than that o f all the othertrees put together. It bears produce ten yearsafter being planted

,and will yield a crop for a

generation or more— growing readily in most so ils,

though the fruit varies much in taste and flavour.

In May and June the whole population seems tobe eating it

,in the same way that they are all

munching the sugar-cane in December and January.

The neem (Malia a z adira chta ) is a slow-growingbut shady tree , w i th narrow leaves , and yieldinga smal l berry

,the o il of which is much prized as

a medicine . The invaluable bamboo , of which theuses are innumerable ; the sheeshum

(Da lbergia

affording excellent timber ; the“ babool ”

(Aca cia owabica ) , with i ts l ittle balls of fragrantflowerets, are also probably there . Th is last treeyields tannin from the bark

,while the timber is

util ised for making agricultura l implements andcarts — especially the naves of wheels . It isunpretending in appearance

,l ightly foliaged and

thorny,and from its boughs very commonly may

be seen hanging the marvellous nests of theclever l ittle finches— the bayas or weaver birds

(P loceus baya ) .

AN INDIAN VILLAGE . 27

There are probably not more that forty or fiftyhuts in the Village— built of mud and thatchedwith grass

,and nearly all consisting of one room

scantily furnished ; though sometimes there is anenclosed Space in front or behind

,in which domes

tic duties are performed and articles stored , andwhich affords more seclusion to the women of thehousehold . If the occupant possesses a bullockor bullocks , they are t ied up in th is enclosurebeing fed out of earthenware vessels embeddedin raised mounds of earth .

The vicinity of thedwelling is far from wha t the sanitarian approvesof

,for the genera l rubbish and sweepings are piled

up here for fear o f theft , before their remova l foruse as manure in the fields ; but the interior of

the but i s usually scrupulously clean , despite thefact that it i s regularly daubed over with a mixture of mud and water and a l ittle cow - dung.

This last is carefully kept for use as fuel , andusually decorates the external walls of the dwelling in patches stuck on to dry in the sun . Landowners, i t i s true , will often allow the Villagersto cut a l ittle wood from their “ dhak ” j ungles

,

as it is of l ittle use for other purposes,so i t i s

known as the poor man’s tree ”

; and curiouslyenough the author found in South Africa that asomewhat similar tree was known as “ the Kaffir

tree ,” for apparently very much the same reason .

Ou one side of the v illage is th e pond— an un

sightly excavation,holding stagnant water and

affording an excellent breeding-ground for mos

28 THE SILENT INDIA .

quitoes— in wh ich pigs wallow and from which the

cattle drink . Its presence is inevitable , s ince ithas been caused by the removal of the earth forthe purpose of building and repairing the hutslandlords naturally obj ecting to their fields beingso util ised. Then there are the village wellssome for h igh caste and some for low caste people ,

-where the women gather to draw water fordrinking and other purposes

,and to discuss in

endless and noisy conversation the doings of theirneighbours

,&c while close by is the council-tree

of the community,surrounded by a raised earth

platform , where the village elders sit and smokeand talk far into the warm night.The little village temple is nearly always over

shadowed by the sacred peepul-tree (Ficus religi

osa ) . There are usually gods in these treesdemons prefer the tamarind . The former haslarge leaves hanging loosely on a long stalk

,and

wh ich move with the least breath of air ; so thatwhen all i s apparently still they rustle mysteriously ,

and the movement is attributed to supernatural causes.There are few shops in Muddunpore. Ruttun

Lal squats in a shanty in the principal street,

watch ing over a number of open sacks holdingfood-stuffs

,spices , salt, and sweatmeats, amid a

cloud of hornets and wasps,and with a great

brass bell hanging in front of him . Lower down ,in a similar sh0 p , i ron and brass cooking - pots ,big -headed nails

,matches

,and (recently ) awful

AN INDIAN VILLAGE . 29

cigarettes , can be purchased . There are sure tobe several potters—very useful servants to thecommunity— f

'

ash ioning out the mud vessels withthe aid of the wheel of

'

which the use goes backto remote antiquity. And on the outskirts of thesettlement the wheelwright has his workshop ,where he builds and repairs the heavy countrycarts used in the rural areas and drawn by oxenand bufl

'

aloes— ponderous conveyances constructedsolely of wood , bamboo , and string, which by yielding survive the j olts and

shocks incidental topassage over the rough country tracks . Thepubl ic buildings consist of the vil lage shrine

,with

a few trees round it , and the shed in wh ich thechildren absorb some scraps o f elementary education through the medium of an elementaryschoolmaster . A l ittle apart from the rest of thedwell ings is a sma ll group of wretched tenements

,

where dwell the very low caste chamars ”— thepeople who flay dead animals for the sake of theirskins and l ive largely on the flesh . None of thestreets are paved— the foot goes into some six

inches of dust or mud . Buffaloes , goats , cows ,and sacred bulls wander all over the site ; monkeys swarm unmolested over the houses , roads ,and trees ; while scores of ownerless pariah -dogs ,of all shapes and sizes , roam about the village anddispute with their own kind during the day , andwith the jackals at night, for a precarious mealof offal and garbage.This is a purely Hindoo village , and there is no

30 THE SILENT INDIA .

provision for Muhammadan occupation— those whocome here for work l iving with their co -rel igionistsin a hamlet a l ittle way off ; but the generaldescription will apply to most l ittle centres of

population in Upper India , where the two sectsl ive and work together as they have done forcenturies .Heera Singh ’s house is the only two - storied

residence in Muddunpore , and it also possessesthe crowning glory of a tiled roof. It is quadrangular in shape , with a courtyard in the centre ,in which i s the little altar, with the

“tulsee

”or

holy basil to be placed on the tongue of thedy ing

,and where are also tethered the bullocks ;

while in a corner of the same enclosure a weedypony is tied by his head and heels to pegs in theground under a grass thatch . This is the ridingpony of the proprietor , and is of more value thanits appearance indicates , on account of i ts steadyamble ; and i t is surprising how fast and comfortably a rider not given to equestrian feats can getover the ground with an animal trained to thispecul iar gait. The members of the family occupythe upper rooms , while the ground floor— much of

i t consisting of Open verandahs— i s thronged withpoor relations and hangers-on

,who loaf about the

place,do odd j obs when requi red

,and roll them

selves up in their blankets to sleep when andwhere they l ike . The local status and reputationof an Indian gentleman is largely gauged by theextent of his toleration and support of the tag-rag

AN INDIAN VILLAGE . 3 1

and bobtail which infests h im ; but , apart fromthis

,the people of India are probably the most

charitable in the world , and such a th ing as Staterelief is not necessary except in famine times .Poorhouses exist in most towns , but are usuallyeither empty or occupied by lepers , bl ind folk ,waifs and strays .Our Eastern farmer is an industrious and thriftyman

,and he and h is sons and employés are up at

daylight,and having repeated some texts from the

Puranas,made oblations to the sun

,cleaned their

teeth with sticks which they throw away,proceed

,

muffledup in blankets over their heads and bodiesand with noth ing round their legs

,to the scene of

their labours . They will wash themselves all overat a well in the fields, say their prayers , take theirfood

,smoke the pipe of peace , sleep for an hour or

two during the great heat of the day,and return

home after their work at sunset . Then they againpray

,take the principal meal , and after more

smoking and perchance a chat under the counciltree

,l ie down to rest

,wrapped up in their

blankets,on a rough bed constructed o f wood

and laced with stout string.

The little community is a distinct unit in itself,

and,differing from condi tions in other countries

,

most of the labourers work for themselves andnot for employers— a fact to be borne in mind byoracles on wage - statistics . Lalloo the

w eav er andhis caste-fellows provide most of the cloth ing andblankets Buddhoo the sweeper and his class look

32 THE SILENT INDIA .

to the conservancy of the place ; Faiga the watchman (a modest servant o f the Government , clad ina blue j ean coat and red puggri , registrar of birthsand deaths

,and the usual ult imate source of

ev idence in police cases) rends the air at nightwith wild howls to keep off marauders ; Seetul thewater-carrier dispenses that commodity to consumers from his leather bag ; and the barbershaves the community

,retails gossip , and usually

acts as the prel iminary go-between among the

parents when arrangements are made for all iancesbetween the young folk of the village , before thefamily priest opens formal negotiations. TheBrahman at the shrine attends to their religiouswants ; while the

“ patwari ” keeps the revenueaccounts and records the changes of tenure ofland on curious , portable , and dirty maps .Life proceeds very quietly in the village

,with

few excitements beyond the rel igious festiva ls,the

Visits to the neighbouring weekly market,the

occasional inspection by a sah ib connected withone or other of the State departments , or the outbreak of epidemic disease . Literature is at adiscount

,for few can read , and the tastes of those

who can run mostly towards descriptions of theremarkable deeds and exploi ts of worth ies in thedistant past akin to the classic legend of the GreatPanj andrum ; or else to the counsels and wisdomo f rel igious sages . Pol itics , art, science , and thedoings of the outside world interest them but l ittle ,and the stray vernacular newspaper with its

34 THE SILENT INDIA .

grip . But the peasant bows his head , imbuedwith a sp irit of resignation which is a mercifulgift to i ts possessor , and prese ntly the clouds rollby and the sun shines once more .This is a rough sketch , which must be somewhat

modified according to the parti cular part of thecountry

,o f the l ife and environment of probably

at least two - thirds of the population of India— thereal India ,— the voiceless s imple people of whichpolit icians know so l ittle and are perhaps sotempted to ignore . Yet they are very rea l menand women , and with thoughts and feel ings verydeeply rooted , and worthy of consideration . Theyare not bel ievers , i t is true , in what Mr A. C.

Benson calls the gospel of push ”

; but then, as

that writer goes on to observe , i t has got to beproved that one was sent into the world to beeffective ,

” and it is not even certain that a manhas fulfil led the higher law of being i f he has madea large fortune by business. Heera Singh and hisfriends have certain consolat ions

,—they seldom

suffer from “ brain- storms and the someth ing orother “ ego , suicides are rare

,and the death

registers have no column for neurasthenia .

LALLOO’

S REWARD.

LALLOO, cultivator , l ived in a Village in the northof that portion of the Himalayan regions knownas Garhwal ; owning h is own l ittle holding , l iv ingvery largely on i ts produce

,and earning the money

required for cloth ing and other small wants of

himself and h is family by sometimes working forother people

,carrying produce on his back over

hill tracks to distant markets,and in other casual

employment in which no particular intell igencewas essential . He and his wife and h is four smallchildren were well enough contented with theirlot

,for it was much the same as that of the i r

neighbours,and in thei r isolated existence they

never conceived the notion of any other conditions .Their home was, from their point of View ,

a goodone . It was two -storied

,and the lower story was

occupied by cattle and was exceedingly dirty !

but the Hindu never seems to recognise thepossible association of the idea of filth with thesacred cow. A ladder led to the upstairs rooms ,two in number

,small and absolutely unventilated

36 THE SILENT INDIA .

for the cold in winter i n the h igher Himalayas isexcessive , and the people are accustomed to huddletogether in their dwellings for warmth

, and toexist in an atmosphere wh ich would suffocate aEuropean

,or even an Indian o f the plains . The

walls were of stone , and the roof of slabs ofthe same material , and over the latter straggleda mass of vegetation consisting o f gourds

,pump

kins,cucumbers

,850 . There were only about a

dozen houses in the village ; all clustered togetheron a narrow ledge on the side of the mountainso narrow that from some distance off the structures seemed almost to be attached like huge neststo the face of the cl iff i tself. Above and on eithers1de of the l ittle centre of population

,were forests

o f various kinds of pines , firs, spruces , cypresses ,poplars

,rhododendrons

,deodars

,brushwood

,&c. ;

while to one side of the ledge and about a hundredyards or so away

,a deep , heavily-wooded ravine

formed the channel through wh ich the drainageof the area h igher up tore its way— leaping incascades or sw irl ing round fa llen boulders of rockin its precip itous course to the valley below .

The patches of cultivation belonging to the v il

lage were all s ituated a little lower down the hillon similar ledges to that upon which the dwellingsstood— where the natural features of th e face ofthe hil l had been util ised and improved by extensive and ingenious terracing , so that , lookingacross the valley

,the effect was that of a gigantic

irregular staircase leading up the mountain - side

LALLOO’

S REWARD . 37

to the cluster of buildings at its summit . In theselittle fields the “ mandwa (Eleusine coroccma )was principally grown

,though various pulses were

also cultivated and on the margins of the cropsthe great tall heads of the purple amaranth shoneagainst the l ighter colours of the cereals . At thefoot of the lofty range of h ills was a broad valley ,through the centre of wh ich flowed a bright

,shal

low , rapid river , full of mahseer and other fishwhile on either s ide of th is, rel ieving the darkcolours of the wooded slopes

,stretched other

patches of emerald - green cultivat ion,where the

hill-rice was planted out,weeded

,and eventually

harvested .

Altogeth er it was a very charming and p icturesque scene

,with wh ich the dwell ings

,i f not

inspected too closely,were in perfect harmony.

The forests were full of ga i ly - plumaged birds,

among wh ich the pheasants (especia l ly the Impeyan ) were perhaps the most magnificent. Thecry of the chuckor partridge greeted the dawn ,while the harsh cries of the black species disturbedthe silence of the valley . The j erow (thesambhur ” o f the plains) , the kakur ” or barking deer

,and other Cervidae belled , barked ,

and called in the recesses of the woods , while onthe grassy slopes browsed the ghural ,

” and anoccasional thar

,

”or mountain goat . Tigers were

rare visitors,but leopards were numerous and

bold , and the Himalayan black bear was a constantsource of alarm to the people

,— an anima l probably

38 THE SILENT INDIA .

more detested and feared than any other wildbeast i n these tracts .The tastes of Lalloo and h is friends

,however

,

were not aesthet ic , nor did they take much interestin e ither scenery or natural h istory . To them ,

apart from their edible qual ities , a bird was merelya bird

,or an an imal an animal j ust as a tree was

a tree,or a stone a stone . Not a soul in the v il

lage could read or write few had ever been out ofthe h ills ; and the only subj ects of conversationwere the prices o f grain , the prospects of theharvest

,the existence o f epidemic disease , or the

backsl idings of their male and female acquaintanoes . They cultivated the ir fields by the aid oftheir small oxen with the same sort of plough thattheir ancestors had employed a thousand years agothey sowed the grain and irrigated the plots wherenecessary ; cut down the crops with a rough sortof s ickle ; beat out and winnowed the grain afterthe manner of the Israel ites ; buried th is underthe floors of their dwell ings or stored it i n greatearthen pots ; and packed the straw up among thebranches of trees

,where it kept fairly dry and

where the cattle could not get at it. The coarsel inen coats they wore in summer— the blanketones , folded across the chest and kept in positionby a long skewer - l ike pin , for winter use , andalso the blankets themselves — were nearly allmade in the village . Salt , tobacco , a l ittle countryspirit , buttons, th read , and a few odds and ends ,were almost all they obtained from outside . They

40 THE SILENT INDIA .

sitated h is mortgaging h is l ittle property to ashopkeeper in a small v illage a few miles away.

A later year proving very prosperous , he had fooli shly

,instead of paying oflC the mortgage

,lent the

profits to a distant relat ive at a very high rate of

i nterest and for a very short period. This,how

ever,had proved a disastrous speculation , for he

could ne ither get h is capital back nor even theinterest on it— and no record of the transactionhad been kept. Presently the shopkeeper , tiredof wa i ting for h is money , threatened to foreclose.Lalloo ,

alarmed at th is action,talked the matter

over with h is wife ’s cousin , Tota , and , as a result ,one morning the pair wended their way across themounta ins to a village where resided one of thosepests of Indian society , a low - class unqualified

lawyer . To him they confided their troubleunfortunately with the mendacious addition that

,

although no wri tten record of the loan existed,i t

had been granted in the presence of two witnesses

(of whom Tota was one ) fully aware of the termsupon which i t had been made . The advice givenwas that if the two witnesses could be produced

,

and were rel iable ( the lawyer laid considerablestress upon the latter requirement

,and with a

sign ificant expression ) , the debtor should be suedand this was accordingly done .Lalloo and Tota

,returning to their village

,had

a long private talk with Peru,a neighbour , and in

due time and in response to a summons, the three

worth ies made a long j ourney to the court presided

LALLOO’

S REWARD . 4 1

over by an Indian j udge before whom the case wasto be tried . The tria l duly came on

,and at first

all went well . Lalloo’

s description of how,touched

with the distress of h is relative,he had impulsively

lent h im the money without any written agreement

,left l i ttle to be desired and Tota and Peru

bore out h is statements manfully — making the

useful additions in their evidence tha t they had atthe t ime protested against his generous confidencein his relation

,as shown by s his thus advancing the

money without any bond being executed . Theywere all somewhat surprised and rel ieved to findthat the defendant made no attempt to crossexamine them or to controvert wha t they said .

But when called upon for h is defence,he candidly

acknowledged the receipt o f the loan,producing

,

however,four witnesses

,totally unknown to Lalloo ,

who swore to not only having seen it repa id to theclaimant a fortnight after the incident deposed to ,but had witnessed with indignation the latter’sattempts to extort a whole year’s interest inaddition to what he was entitled to !What was to be done ? There were no documentary proofs on either side— it was a pure question of rel iabil i ty of personal evidence . Lalloo

looked at h is friends—his friends looked at h im ;

this was an enti rely unforeseen l ine of defence ,and they stood with open mouths

,staring in front

of them completely nonplussed . In reply to thejudge , Lalloo was understood to say that he hadbeen suffering from fever about that time and w as

42 THE SILENT INDIA .

probably “bihosh (senseless ). This reply , which

appeared to be uttered more as a formula than ashaving any direct bearing on the ma tter

,was

obviously unsatisfactory . A similar misfortuneappeared to have occurred to Peru and the wife

scousin at the same time . All added

,rather in

consequently , tha t the j udge was the Cherisher ofthe Poor

,and that they were all poor men . The

case was dismissed — the judge abstaining fromany comments , probably because he considered theevidence on both sides equally negl igible

,and was ,

moreover,quite familiar with the mixture of sim

plicity and cunning which is the usual accompaniment of such proceedings in India .

It was a gloomy party that set out to return toBanskhet. Lalloo was silent and dej ected ; Tota1nve ighedagainst the wickedness of hired and perj ured witnesses ; while Peru mournfully remindedh is friends how he had protested against continuing the j ourney after witnessing an incident in thel ife of two crows which was well known to bringdisaster on the observer. The shopkeeper

,who

was not long in ascerta ining the result of the trial ,promptly foreclosed

,and the unhappy Lalloo (who

had no incl ination for any further appearances incourt) , making no defence , was duly evicted fromh is property .

When a man in the West is hopelessly downedhe is very liable to blow h is brains out or take todrink . In the East he is very likely to go on apilgrimage— which is better . Lalloo , homeless ,

LALLOO’

S REWARD . 4 3

handed over the wreck o f h is fortune to his w ifeand children , and sent them to the care of hisfather- in- law ; and keeping a small sum for himself wrapped up in his waist - cloth

,started off to

tramp to holy Kedarnath and Badrinara in— thesacred shrines to the north amid the eternal snows .Kedarnath is sacred to Shiva

,as Badrinara in i s to

Vishnu . Lalloo was a follower o f the former , buthis time was h is own

,and as is more usual ly the

case with these pilgrims,he determined to visi t

both local ities and thereby enlist the sympath iesof both deities . It was quite easy to j oin the longprocession of devotees winding Up from sacredHardwar along the banks of the deep -roll ing Al ekananda river

,for no one took any concern with the

appearance and habits of h is fellow - travellers .Many had come from remote parts of India ,— theywere of all castes ; the only common characteristicbe ing that they were all Hindus. There were nochildren— the j ourney was too long

,arduous

,and

perilous for that ; but there were many old folk ,men and women— the latter sometimes carried ina sort of pannier on the backs o f sturdy h il lmenengaged for the pilgrimage . As was the case ( ifwe may trust Chaucer) with regard to similarexpeditions in our own country

,although the

majority of the worshippers were thoroughlysincere , there was a considerable leaven of roguesand vagabonds— the latter not infrequently dis

guising their real character under the garb of thereligious mendicant known as the sadhu .

Very

4 4 THE SILENT INDIA .

often— more often than not— the travellers werein l ittle hands from the same local ity

,quite as

much from feel ings of protection as desire forcompanionsh ip

,for the j ourney was by no means

una ttended with perils from man and beast .Lalloo wandered along with the great collection

of thousands of men and women, day after day .

At the first gleam of l igh t he arose , recited hisprayers , andproceeded 0 11 h is way— bathed , prayed ,ate a l i ttle parched grain , smoked , slept a l ittle atnoon— and fin ished h is march in time to cook h isfood

,smoke again

,and then l ie down in slumber

among the numerous fires all over the temporaryencampment. There was very l ittle gaiety on theroute— most pilgrims plodding along in silence andonly exchanging the religious greeting ,

“ Ram,

Ram,

” with a fellow-traveller when it was neces

sary to say something. Yet,strange to say , he

was not depressed or sad . The magnificent andsolemn grandeur of the views and landscapes lefthim comparat ively cold

,but the change of scene

each day , the abstemious l ife and the steadyexercise , all kept him interested and healthy , for,as Carlyle says

,with stupidity and a sound

digestion , man may front much . Moreover , atthe back of h is mind he felt that if, as seemedprobable from recent events

,he had in some way

offended the Great Gods,much might be hoped

from his present action . Certainly all h is sinsw ould be washed away

,and it might very

we ll be,indeed

,that the Brigh t Ones might

LALLOO’

S REWARD . 4 5

after all extend forgiveness and smile on h imagain .

Presently he left the track by the great roaringriver

,and followed one over some mighty moun

tains until he reached the shrine of Kedarnath .

Here he worsh ipped and made h is offering,and

retracing h is steps until he again reached theriver

,wended h is way to where the blessed Krishna

stood for a hundred years on one foot— the holytemple of Badrinara in . He paid h is devotions atthe lonely shrine with the vast solemn snow- cladmountains towering all round it ; bathed in thehot geyser-fed pool ; made h is modest offering tothe High Priest ; rece ived a l ittle copper platestamped with the image of V ishnu ; purchased athorny stick which all pilgrims provide themselveswith ; and experienced a feel ing of great mentalrelief. But

,physically, h is state was not so

satisfactory . Perhaps from bath ing in the icywater of the glacier - fed river , perhaps from thecoarse food he had been consuming , he had foundhimself for the last few days suffering fromdysentery . No pilgrim , if he can help it, takesmedicine en route before he has a ccomplished theobject of his pilgrimage ; but now he felt reallyseriously i ll . He crawled along on the returnjourney until

,after two days of agonizing travel

,

he reached one of the l ittle hospitals which aremaintained by the Government (aided by con

tributions from the custodians of the shrines )along the pilgrim route at distances of some

4 6 THE SILENT INDIA .

twenty or th irty miles apart. Here he was ad

mitted and trea ted by the Indian doctor in charge .He lay for severa l days almost unconscious , but hisconsti tution was good , and presently he began tomend and to take an interest in his surroundings.On one side he had the wa ll of the building , butupon a string cot on the other lay a man wrappedi n one of the hospita l blankets , whose groans kepth im constantly awake . His , the

“ doctor-baboo ”

said,w as a very bad case

,and one of dysentery

,

l ike h is own . He w as,they told h im

,a sadhu

,

"

but evidently a resident o f the plains and not ofthe hills ; though , l ike all h is fraterni ty , he decl ined to give any account of h imself, or say fromwhence he came.One nigh t

,Lalloo ,

ly ing awake,heard something

fal l 0 11 the floor . It was not a large obj ect,but

wha t attracted h is attention was tha t he heard itcl ink . Turning over cautiously in h is cot

,he

looked down and saw a smal l canvas bag whichhad evidently fal len out of the “ sadhu ’s ” bed.

The latter lay quite still in h is blanket,andLalloo

was fired with curiosity to ascertain what hadcaused the metall ic sound . He cautiously putdown his hand and found he could j ust touch thepouch . There were

,he could fee l , some small

square obj ects,and some of irregular pointed shape ,

the nature of wh ich he could not make out, i nside .A slight movement of the owner made h im abandonhis touch

,withdraw his hand under h is blanket ,

and feign sleep . Presently h is neighbour moved

48 THE SILENT INDIA .

determined to follow the man , though he had nointention o f robbing him or indeed of exciting hisanger ; for if, after all

, he really was a holy man,

the consequences might be extremely uncomfortable . He was now quite fit to travel , and as thesuspected person would probably rejo in the columno f returning pilgrims for purposes o f safety

,their

ways would l ie in the same direction . But therew as one th ing he w as uncerta in about

,and that

was whether hi s neighbour in hospital might notreally have seen h im examining his property ? Thehaste he had exh ibited in leaving w as curious , forhe had been then still very ill . If he had anysuspicions they would be confirmedby his (Lalloo

s)immediate reappearance among the pilgr ims withwhom he might be travell ing

,and upon the whole

he thought,therefore

,i t would be wiser to strike

across the mountains by a h il l track he knew of,

with a view to dropping down again into thevalley and rej oining the stream of travellers acouple of marches or so lower down the route . Itwas a lone ly wild path , as he knew ,

but he carriedwith h im , l ike many h illmen , a knife used by theGoorkhas, of a peculiar shape , but in the hands ofone accustomed to its use, of wonderful efficiency.

He could cut off the head of a goat , or lop off astout branch , with one stroke from it , and with thisin h is possession

,he had little fear of wild beasts

or man . There were still some hours of l ight leftwhen he started

,and he hoped before darkness

fell to reach one of the l ittle “ dharamsalas” or

LALLOO’

S REWARD . 49

rest-houses which are often built by charitablepeople in the h ills for the use of wayfarers

,and

which generally consist of j ust four stone wall sroofed in with slabs of the same material , enclosing an area of some ten feet square , and to whichaccess is obta ined by means of a narrow open doorway. Here he would spend the night , and continuehis progress in the morning.

Like all dwellers in the forests,Lalloo

,though

not particularly intelligent _ in ordinary matters,

was a very keen observer of small incidents andcircumstances connected with the l ife

,animal and

vegetable,about h im

,and was , moreover, no mean

Woodsman . He was interested then in speculatingas to what was the cause of the noisy chatteringof some great grey monkeys (or

“ lungoors”

) alittle to the side of the track , when he had proceeded a mile or so on h is j ourney . Cautiouslystalking them

,he saw to h is surprise that they

were busily engaged in tearing to pieces a garmentwhich he at once re cognised by its colour to bethat of a religious mendicant . On h is near approachthe an imals

,alarmed

,fled up the trees with angry

expostulations,and he proceeded to examine the

fragments of coarse cloth they had scatteredabout . His eye very soon l ighted upon a smal lbag very l ike the one he had seen in the hospital—but it was too light , he discovered , to be that .He untied the string round its mouth and shookout a l ittle of the contents , and gave vent to anexpression of surprise , for he at once recognised

D

5 0 THE SILENT INDIA .

them to consist of portions o f the datura plant,

—a product o f the j ungles often used by professional robbers in India to stupefy unsuspectingtrave llers on the road A careful search revealednothing more which would help to clear up themystery . He walked on for some time pondering

,

and then,feel ing somewhat tired

,sat down

,cooked

some food,and presently fell asleep .

It was probably the resul t of h i s recent illness,

but he slumbered long and deeply,and when he

awoke the sun had set and in the East there isvery l ittle twil ight. He started at once

,but in

another hour or so was in complete darkness , andwhat was worse

,had lost the track . It was a still

,

very quiet,night

,but now and aga in a l ittle eddy

of wind shook the p ines and other coniferous treesin the neighbourhood

,producing a low soughing

sound,and then died away again . Once or twice

an owl,or some other nocturnal bird

,called close

by ,and the wayfarer’s trained ear occasionally

detected the sound o f'

some large body moving inthe j ungle in the Vicin ity . But these incidents,alarming enough to one strange to them

,disturbed

Lalloo very little , —far more important to him wasthe appearance of the l ittle l ights occasionallyseen here and there on the h ills ides a long distance off

,and which might be due to the presence

o f l ittle hamlets , but which possibly had anothersignificance . He was not much afraid of materialth ings

,but had a very rea l dread of “ bhoots ,

”or

malevolent spirits wh ich might be wandering

LALLOO’

S REWARD . 5 1

abroad,and so

, guided to some extent by thestars , he made strenuous efforts to regain thetrack andfind the l ittle shanty. But it w as someyears since he had been in th is part of the country— he was completely lost— and so i t was withconsiderable rel ief that about two or three o’clockin the morning he suddenly saw the rest - houselooming up just in front of h im . He struck amatch abstracted from his waist-cloth

,bent down

to enter the low doorway— and the next momentwas Sprawling on the ground with a leopard’steeth fixed in h is shoulder and the claws tearingthe skin from his back ! The attack was so sud

den and un expected that he had hardly heardthe roar

,or seen the flash of the yellow body

,as

the creature sprang upon him . Over and overrolled the man and the beast in the darkness .It was a powerful animal

,and its snarls and hot

breath mingled with h is own cries and labouredefforts at respiration . He tried to free h imselffrom the savage clutch

,but in vain . He was

streaming with blood ; the cruel teeth seemedto be gnawing down to the very bone

,while the

long sharp claws tore deep furrows in h is flesh .

Once he got his hand on her (for it was a female )throat , but she rapidly changed her grip and

seized h im by the handm luckily the left one .Again and aga in they rolled over together

,blended

in one struggling mass . A mist swam before h iseyes and he fel t h is strength fail ing. How longthe struggle lasted Lalloo never knew

,but weak

52 THE SILENT INDIA .

as he still was,he was a resolute

,courageous

man where th ings he understood were concerned,

and fought brave ly for h i s l ife . Suddenly theleopard sprang back , and while she crouched fora fresh spring , he , with a last effort , snatched out

h is “ kukri ” from its sheath with his sound righthand

,and when the beast aga in launched herself

upon h im,drove th e weapon up to the h ilt in her

throat . A gush o f'

hot blood followed— he felt thej aws relax— heard fa intly a sort of gurgling sighand fe ll back senseless .When he regained consciousness the day had

broken . Birds were singing , he heard a distantkakur barking

,the sun shone bright in the

sky,and he noted with a forester ’s eye two large

vultures circling round and surveying with hungryinterest the scene below them . He found himselfin front o f the l ittle rest -house , very faint and sore ,and with the leopard ly ing beside h im stark andcold

,and the knife still sticking in the spot where

he had plunged it. He was smothered in bloodsome his own and some that of his foe— but hewas rel ieved to find that h is wounds had stoppedbleeding

,and that his bones were intact . The

beast had probably made for h is th roat,but had

missed her aim and caught h im by the shoulderfortunately not inj uring the great vessels of theneck— and had also terribly lacerated h is handand back . But h is legs were sound

,and with

great pain and difficulty ,for h is left arm was

quite useless,he staggered to his feet . A cheerful

LALLOO’

S REWARD . 53

swirling sound told him of the existence of amounta i n stream close by ,

and he managed toreach the bank of th is

,where be deeply drank

,

washed h is wounds as far as he could with hisuninjured hand , and , returning slowly to theshanty , succeeded after some time wi th the assistance of his toes

,which an Indian uses almost like

fingers, in scraping together some fallen leavesand wood , l ighting a match , and cooking a littlefood over h is fire . He made no further attemptto enter the building , but wrapping h imself in h i sblanket , dozed at intervals during the day . Inthe evening he replenished h is fire , chewed someparched gra in , and recovering h is string bag withhis fl int and stee l and tobacco ly ing close by ,

smoked for a little while and then fell asleep .

Next morn ing,though stil l very stiff and sore

,

he felt better , and after withdrawing the knifefrom the leopard ’s throat and holding it in h isuninj ured hand

,he re—entered the shanty . The

sun sh ining through the doorway only illuminateda portion of the interior

,but he could discern

,

huddled up in one of the dark corners on theground , someth ing which looked as if i t werecovered with a blanket . Possessing h imself of

three or four large stones , he heaved them at theobject , and stood on his defence . But there wasno result— whatever it was

,i t was evidently l ife

less . Presently , summoning up h is courage , hecautiously approached it, and , drawing back itscovering

,discovered to h is horror the dead body

5 4 THE SILENT INDIA .

of a man . His hand felt sticky , and there wasa curious sickly smell . He dragged , after a fewhesi tating moments , the corpse to where the lightstreamed through the entrance , and examined itmore closely . The blanket was in tatters , onearm was nearly torn off and eaten

,and the

bowels were protruding through a great hole inthe abdomen . But the face was uninjured savefor a few scra tches

,and Lalloo staggered back

as he gazed at it . For i t was that of h is erstwhile companion in the hospital— the mysterioussadhuFaint and sick

,he returned to the Open air

and sat down ; remaining in that position forsometh ing like an hour . He was doing what wasvery unusual for h im— th inking deeply . Thebody

,he had noticed when he removed the blan

ket, was clad in a hillman ’s torn woollen coat,and the canvas cap with the long ear-flaps affectedby the religious ascetic

,had been replaced by the

l ittle black tight - fitting skul l - cap worn by thedweller on the mountains . Lalloo slowly piecedi t all together in h is somewhat sluggish mind,and what he conj ectured was th is . The soi -disant“ sadhu ” was really a professional poisoner androbber who

,having secured h is ill -gotten gains ,

was returning to the plains . Of th is he feltpretty sure . But what about the change of garb ?

The explana tion of th is which he conceived wasthat the rogue had carried a h illman ’s garmentsin h is l ittle pack of

'

bedding,intending to don

5 6 THE SILENT INDIA .

You may be quite sure that , after having arrivedat these conclusions as the result o f these un

wonted mental exercises,Lalloo did not fail to

return to the pitiful remains to search for thel i ttle bag he so well remembered

,and

,sure

enough,there i t was

,carefully concealed in the

waist-cloth . Taking i t into the open,he greedily

opened it , and what he saw went a long waytowards his recovery . Gold mohurs , bangles , earrings

,nose-r ings

,gems strung on wires

,—it was a

spectacle a miser would have gloated over,and

seemed a veritable treasure to one in the positionof a h il l v illager . His eyes sparkled with delight.He was , indeed , so well satisfied with affairs thathe by no means welcomed the possibil ity of havingto give an explanation of what had occurred toany one who might chance to arrive on the spot

so , carefully conceal ing h is findupon h is person ,he took some food , and after , with completeindifference , roll ing the bodies of the “ sadhu ”

and the leopard down the mpe of a neighbouringravine , started off, and managed to put somemiles between him and the scene of h is adventuresbefore the sun went down . Travelling slowly

,in

a few days he reached a small village,where he

begged assistance as a starving pilgrim who wasreturning from Badrinara in , and had been mauleden route by a bear. He had the l ittle copperplate wi th the image of V i shnu and his thornystick as corroborating evidence o f his statements

,

and food and simple medicaments were freely

LALLOO’

S REWARD . 57

bestowed by the sympathetic residents . Fromthence

,after a few days’ rest , he wended his way

by a circu itous route to the pla ins,and presently

reached a big city . H is object was the disposalof his newly -acquired property ; and th is involvedproceedings of a del icate nature . But he brokeup the trinkets and melted the gold mohurs , andby disposing of his various nuggets and j ewels insmall quantities and at different places (not verydifficult to obtain knowledge of) , he presentlyfound himself in possession of a very considerablehoard , and of a nature wh ich was beyond official

criticism and the impertinent inquiries of thepolice . With this h e returned to hi s belovedmounta ins

,purchasing land

,and dwell ing in a

local ity very far removed from Banskhet .

There is not much more to relate. As soon ashe was fa i rly settled in h is new home

,h is wife

and ch ildren j oined him . How he enlightenedthe former as to the source of h is affluence is notpositively known , but i t i s bel ieved that heattributed i t to the benevolence of the Grea tGods , who had led h im to find a bag of golddropped by some one on the road . This somewhat th in explanation would seem to have satisfied her , although perhaps a more punctil iousperson might have considered that , under the ci rcumstances

, the more correct course would havebeen to have handed over the treasure to theauthorities with a view to finding the rightfulowner. But people look at th ings in different

5 8 THE SILENT INDIA .

ways . The Village woman ’s standard o f moral ityon such matters was probably not very high

,and

as to Lalloo himself, he was perfectly certa in thath is good fortune was a reward for an act o f merit“ though as to the method of bestowal

,he was,

for obvious reasons,by no means incl ined to go

into any particulars . But there was no moreconfirmed bel iever than the erstwh ile cultivatorin the efficacy of a pilgrimage to Shiva

’s (or was

i t V i shnu ’s shrine— no one more convinced ofthe benevolence of the Bright Ones

,and the

unfathomable wisdom displayed by them inaccompl ish ing their designs . He li ved a long

,

much respected,and fairly honest

,l ife

,and when

he died,a small copper plate with V i shnu ’s effigy

was found sewn in the breast of the venerablegarment which represented h is shirt . No one

knew its h istory. Perhaps i t had been regardedas a tal isman . Buddhoo ,

sweeper,stole it , and

wore i t concealed on h is person for some time buti t did him no good

,and he eventually sold it for

a rupee to a fat Benares shopkeeper who hadstarted on h is way to the shrines , but who hadhad quite enough of the i nconveniences of thej ourney

,and welcomed the chance of returning

to h is home without further trouble,prov ided with

th is convincing if misleading proof of h is sel fdenial and piety .

THE GARDEN OF INDIA.

THE writer , looking back on a long career inIndia

,finds h is memories largely centering round

his first responsible appointment in a civ il stationin that country— a l i ttle unimportant settlementin Oudh . The offer of th is post

,a source of

surprise and elation,arrived when he was with

a regiment in Northern India , and the name of

the place was absolute ly unknown e ither to h imor to h is brother officers. Their advice was to writeto the magistrate

,asking for particulars regarding

the duties,European population

,accommodation

available , sport , &c.,before defin itely accepting

the billet . In two or th ree days ’ time a letterduly arrived

,and was read out at mess to our

l ittle circle . So far as memory serves,i t ran

something like th is

DEAR S IR , —We are very pleased to hear ofyour probable arriva l among us, and shall giveyou a hearty welcome . i s a smal l station ,only seventeen miles from the ra i lway , and when

60 THE SILENT INDIA .

a proper road is constructed,will be very access

ible. At present we use bullock -carts,and if you

will let me know when to expect you , I willarrange to have one sent to the nearest railwaystation at There are only three Europeanshere , so it will be a great thing to have you for afourth hand at whist

,for in the absence of racquet

and tennis courts,l ibrary or swimming-bath , we

are sometimes a l ittle dull . I cannot say th is ofmyself, as I am at present engaged in writing ali ttle work on the early h istory of the Semiticrace , and fortunately nei ther of my confreres arefond of athletics . There is no Sport in the district ,but the butterflies at the right time of the yearare particularly numerous

,and I bel ieve some

species , such as the Vanessa a lba ,are found

nowhere else . I cannot say much of the l ife youwould lead

,as i t depends so much upon the tem

perament ; but there is not much work , and existence

,apart from cl imatic conditions

,is very restful.

As regards accommodation,I shal l be very pleased

if you will accept my hospital ity for a time , for,as you are doubtless aware , your predecessor , poorCaptain died very suddenly from cholera ,and it will be necessary for the house to bethoroughly disinfected before you go into it. Iam afraid a l ittle delay will occur about th is , asa t present , on account of the very heavy rains ,there is a foot of water on the floors, and part ofthe roof has fallen ih . Unfortunately this is theonly house available

,but I am endeavouring to

6 2 THE SILENT INDIA .

o f water on the floor of the house when the writerarrived

,and indeed the portion of the ra ilway

l ine by which he reached his destination was all

washed away a few hours after he had traversedi t. He did thankfully accept the hospital ity ofthe magistrate for a time

,though the latter was

a good sportsman,totally uninterested in butter

fl ies,and knowing and caring noth ing about the

Semit ic race There was a good deal of pleasurepresently in actual ly owning your own house andhaving your own property about you. It wasreally a pretty l ittle place , with a good garden ,ample stabling

,and with plenty of fine trees round

the building ; including the poinsettia with itsbrill iant red bracts , the tamarind , the mango , the

flame of the forest , and the beautiful poincianaor gold-mohur tree— the modern representative ofa now unhappily extinct species . The gardenswarmed with birds , and the writer woke in theearly mornings to the sound of the cheery warblingo f the red -cheeked bulbuls and the deeper noteso f the golden oriole , the barbet , the koel , andmany other feathered songsters . The house soonbecame more or less a menagerie with the variouspets and frequenters— a tame black-buck

,a sarus

crane,a brood of young otters

,a colony of l ittle

screech -owls in the roof, a pack o f dogs, and an

occasional cobra which ch ivi ed the rats in theempty room where the horses ’ grain w as stored

,

It w as s ituated on the edge of a l i ttle settlement,

and on three sides the eye rested on nothing but

THE GARDEN OF INDIA . 63

cultivated fields and large grassy plains stretch ingaway to where , on the horizon , lay the small lakesor “

jheels to which in the cold weather the wildfowl resorted in countless numbers .Oudh

,the garden of India

,

”has a lways had

a grea t fascination for the writer , as it has formost people ; and in la ter years he has wanderedover the whole of i ts fertile and interesting ex

panse . Situated in the north of our great dependency

,i t i s bordered on the west by the

Rohilcund Division (formerly a portion of it) ;on the east and south by districts of the Northwest Provinces ; and to the north aga in by thestrip of Tara i at the foot of the Himalayas belonging to Nepal . Its population at the last censuswas of which the great maj ority (over1 1 millions) were agriculturi sts or l iv ing in therural areas

,and although for so many years the

ruling dynasty was Muhammadan , i ts generalpopulation i s principally Hindu (8 5 per cent) . Itsarea is square miles , and in so vast anexpanse many vary ing tracts of country are of

course met with,but i t principally consists of

fertile cultivated fields growing the various cereals,

pulses oils,&c.

— dotted here and there withlarge usar plains incapable of producing morethan scanty and coarse grass on account of thepresence of the reh

or deposit of certain deleterious salts brought to the surface of the groundby the evaporation o f the moisture of the soil .Upon these semi -arid pla ins roam herds of ante

THE SILENT INDIA.

lopes— the stalking of the males of which (blackbuck ) del ights the sportsman . Smal l forests of thedhak ”

(Butea frondosa ) , l ightly - fol iated low

trees,but bearing wonderfully beautiful papilion

aceous flowers with orange-coloured petals andvelvety green calyces , are frequent in the lessproductive tracts . The whole country indeed iswell wooded

,mostly with the useful dark -green

mango . To plant a grove of trees is an act ofmerit

,and as the proceeding happens usually to be

also profitable , the country is well provided withthe ir welcome shelter and shade , beneath wh ichall are permitted to halt and rest . Away to thenorth the scenery is often very fine ; with largeforests of stately trees of many descriptions

,and

with grassy glades stretch ing between themfrequently reminding one of an extensive Englishpark . The Province is watered by large and important rivers , from the Ganges in the southto the Raptes i n the north the latter of whichthe last remnants o f the shattered rebel forcesunder the miscreant Nana Sah ib crossed in theirfl igh t into the trackless j ungles at the foot ofthe Nepal h ills . Upon its south bank

,covered

with an a lmost impenetrable tangle of thornyvegetation , lie the mounds and h illocks whichdenote the s ite of the ancient city of Sabet-mahet

,

associated with the l i fe of Gautama Buddha , theawakened ,

” some 2400 years ago . Where hepreached is now the home of the wild boar

,the

wolf and the j ackal ; and here the author un

THE GARDEN OF INDIA .

earthed the skele ton of a boa - constrictor sometwenty feet i n length . Excavations have beencarried on about the site under the supervisionof officers with specia l knowledge , and the Lucknow Museum conta ins many archaeologica l treasuresthere discovered .

The fauna and flora are sim ilar to those in theUnited Provinces generally

,and in the north the

handsome gond ”or swamp -deer , and— j ust over

the border— an occasional rh inoceros , are met with .

Here it was that the King -Emperor recently madehis excellent bags .There are but two towns of importance— Luck

now ,and Fyzabad with its ne ighbour Ajoodhya .

Descriptions of the former are familiar to all

readers . No traveller in India omits to Vis it theResidency— tha t scene o i

'

matchless heroism andendurance . The present writer first did so incompany with a friend who had been one of itsdefenders

,and who had had two fingers blown off

h is hand when once,in counter -mining against

the besiegers,the th in wall of earth between the

two tunnels had suddenly collapsed , and from thehail of bullets which poured through the opening

,

he had rece ived severa l wounds . It was thrill ingto l isten to h is stories of incidents at the site ofeach post or ba ttery

,and when one fully re

cognises how ill-constructed and imperfect werethe actua l defences and entrenchments

,i t is hard

to grasp how the place could ever have been held .

One can picture the return of the exhausted force

6 6 THE SILENT INDIA .

from the disastrous engagement at Chinhut, andsee again the hasty completion of arrangementsmade in the s tern de termination to stand togetherhere and hold the posi t ion to the last . In one ofthe buildings at the Residency is a large model ofthe place as it existed at the time of the siege

,

and from th is i t can be clearly perceived how ex

posed the position really was,and how the close

prox imity of many buildings to the entrenchmentsadded so seriously to the dangers by affordingcover to the enemy . All the besieged took theirpart in the defence

,and another friend of the

author wears the Mutiny medal for having carriedpowder to the batteries when a mere ch ild . Apartfrom the unexampled bravery of the garrison

,two

facts stand out prominently in explanation of thesuccessful resistance

,

— the wisdom which led to theblowing up of the Mach i Bhawan fort and the concentration upon the Residency — and the totalabsence during the whole investment of any leader,except Man S ingh

,of marked determina tion and

influence among the besiegers . Most descriptionso f the Rel ief of Lucknow terminate with the

victorious entry of Sir Col in Campbell , but theforce left beh ind at the Alum Bagh close by ,

afterh is return to Cawnpore

,had plenty of work to do,

as is so we l l described by Surgeon -General SirA. D. Home

,V .C . ,

i n h is interesting ‘ ServiceMemories

,

’ edited by Colonel C. H . Melville ,Th is author mentions a pathetic fact

w hich the present writer has also heard . Ayahs

THE GARDEN OF INDIA . 67

(native nurses) had in severa l cases fled with thei rlittle European charges to save them from themutineers

,and when their protectresses had died

or been killed,i t was sometimes impossible to

identify the poor l i ttle waifs when rescued andfound later on ,

as they could only remember theirpet names .Some one has written or sa i d that in l ife it isthe small th ings that worry

,and a lmost all the

men the writer has met with who were in thedefence , always came back in their recitals tothe mention of the awful curse of mosquitoes andflies. That th is should have been so bad is easilyexpla ined by the insanitary condition of the en

trenchments, but even to -day the impression i sconveyed that Lucknow in the hot weather is thevery haunt and sanctuary of all fl ies. The peopleonly kill them in self-defence , and in the toleration of the nuisance might be Ja ins— a rel igiouscommunity which never takes l ife in any form ,

and wh ich is so careful in this respect that itsmembers even filter their water through a clothbefore drinking

,for fear o f swa llowing insects .

With the progress of education , a del icate question

(among others) will presently arise in th is connection as to the exact position of microbes . Effortshave been made by the authorities to keep downthe pest by offeri ng rewards for the destructionof the insects

,but the feel ing of the residents was

opposed to such measures,and the singing o f a

contemptuous j ingle concerning the antecedents of

6 8 THE SILENT INDIA .

those engaged in the pursu it , soon killed the enterprise . Why Lucknow should suffer so severelyfrom this affl ict ion is not very clear , for its sani tarycondition is not inferior to that of many othercentres of popula tion . An old Indian friend ofthe writer , wh ile stating that it was even worse informer days

,held the view that originally it was

due to the fact that in the Nawabi times everynoble kept severa l elephants , and tha t when one

of these animal s died its enormous bulk preventedits removal , and i t was consequently more or lessimperfectly buried where it fell . He s tated thatwith in h is own knowledge hundreds of carcaseshad been so dea lt with

,and indeed it i s a

fact tha t the re is hardly a well in the city whichholds water fi t for drink ing

,on account of the

organic matter and nitrogenous salts wh ich itconta ins . The introduction of a filtered watersupply has been very beneficial to the health ofthe residents .Lucknow is prettily s ituated on the windingr iver Goomtee , possesses many fine buildings , andis in teresting , but nevertheless somewhat depressing . There are of course some beautiful struetures , such as the Burra Imambara , with itshundreds of l i ttle cupolas wh ich always remindedthe author of the grea t lanterns we see depictedon the sh ips of the Spanish Armada , and with itsvast interior covered in with what is sa id to bethe largest flat roof in the world unsupported bycolumns . The Boomi Darwasa a lso is very fine

70 THE SILENT INDIA .

to i ts s ize,and it forms a strik ing contrast to i ts

bustl ing and wealthy ne ighbour Cawnpore,not

fifty miles away . Lucknow ,indeed

,in oldidays

existed but for the Court and every nobleman,

and all the“ Taluqdars, or large landowners

(the Barons o f Oudh ) , had their town houseshere ;— and th is from necessity , in order to protect themselves from the machinations andintrigues of their rivals , which were sure to becarried on i n their absence. All looked to theThrone for wealth and distinction

,and these were

given as a rule with great capriciousness andwith l ittle regard for real merit . The Nawabwas surrounded by a host of more or less turbulent feudatories and a crowd of sycophanticfollowers and hangers-on , and yielded alternatelyto menace and caj olery . At the annexation

,

pensions were assigned or continued in greatnumbers . Most of them , sufficient for the wantsof the beneficiaries at the time , are now ,

dividedup as they are into many small shares

,quite

inadequate for the support of thei r descendants,

and unfortunately the ir recipients as a rule makebut l ittle effort to add to their scanty incomes.Some o f the pensions held formerly were for mostabsurd services . One is mentioned wh ich wasassigned for prov iding a favourite dog of theNawab with rose - water to drink ; as this wasdeclared to be the only beverage wh ich wouldkeep the dog from barking at nigh t anddisturbing the sleep of his master. The dog had died

THE GARDEN OF INDIA . 7 1

a hundred years ago , but the pension , either fromcarelessness or rascal ity , had been a lways regularly paid to the descendants of the keeper ofthe royal kennel . It chanced that the author

,

long ago ,had rendered some smal l service to a

decayed though mil itary - looking old pensionerof mixed blood

,who had held the posit ion of

custodian and trainer of the last Nawab’s fightingcocks . He was distinctly a lauda tor temp oris

a cti,and h is stories of the old days were deeply

interesting , though unfortunate ly not always of

a character suitable for publ ication . There werestrange scenes in the palace in those past times

,

and among the favoured guests and employés ofthe monarch were certain Europeans

,such as

Claude Martin ; —very able men,whose l ives if

written would have been curious reading. Zofi‘

an i

the artist has depicted some of these scenes .It is no doubt the fact that when we annexedOudh

,the Court of Lucknow was a sink of sen

suality and corruption , and reform under existingconditions was practically hopeless . It is interesting to View at Hussainabad the gallery of

pictures o f the rulers of Oudh . The strongdetermined appearance of the earl ier satrapssent from Delh i is in striking contrast withthat of their efi eminate successors in later days .Fyzabad (

“ beautiful residence ”) l ies nearly ahundred miles to the north -east of Lucknow

,and

was formerly the capita l of Oudh . The NawabShujah-ud-Dowlah had a palace and fort here

,

72 THE SILENT INDIA .

and here a lso l ived the celebrated Ehow Begumhi s widow

,who left a large portion of her fortune

to the British Government . A stately mausoleumw as erected and ma inta ined out of the bequest

,

and the rema inder was principally bestowed inpensions upon members of the royal family .

Round Ajoodhya (Ayoodhya or Oudh ) , a smallbut holy town on the river Gogra some four milesfrom Fyzabad

,cluster some of the oldest traditions

o f the land . It is mentioned frequently in thePuranas and Mahabharata : Rama was the sonof the king o f Ayoodhya . Here re igned CacoostaRajah

,descended from V ivaswata (the sun born )

Menu,and h is successors filled the land and

Spread over the earth . Th is i s the cradle ofthe two great races of the Suriyas (ch ildren ofthe sun ) and Chandra s (ch ildren of the moon).The former re igned in Oudh (certain of the royalfamil ies in Raj putana cla im descent from them) ;and the latter over P ratisthana between theJumna and Ganges . The modern Ajoodhya consists

,l ike Hardwar

,largely of a col lection of

temples,and residences of the great Indian

princes and Ch iefta ins ; and,

again resemblingthe latter local i ty , i s a very sacred bath ing place.The site is raised

,and much embell ished by groves

o f magn ificent tamarinds , and legend has i t thatan avenue of these shady and beautiful trees onceextended in an unbroken l ine from here to Lucknow ,

very many miles away .

The most casua l observer can hardly fa il to note

THE GARDEN OF INDIA . 73

the change in the appearance and demeanour o f

the middle and lower classes when he passes fromthe city of Lucknow into the country . A fewmiles suffice to bring the traveller into contactwith a manly industrious race of good physique ,and totally different to the low - type residentsof the large and decayed centre of population .

Among the headmen of villages are many thanwhom more courteous and dignifiedmen it wouldbe difii cult to find i n such a posit ion anywhereelse in India . The rural popula tion o f Oudh wasof course the principal source from wh ich the oldIndian army w as recruited

,and when the dark

days of’

57 are recalled , a shadow rests upon itsreputation . But at th is distance of time , lookingdispassionately at the matter

,perhaps it may be

conceded that there is possibly something to besaid as regards the Oudh tr0 0 ps in extenuationof their revolt

,though not for the barbarous

incidents which followed it . The annexation of

Oudh was most bitterly resented . The masses,

ignorant and suspicious of change,followed their

natura l and known leaders as they had ever done,

and would probably do again . These landedgentlemen were extremely dissatisfied,

as w as

indeed to be expected . The disbanding of theking of Oudh ’

s troops,aga in

,had thrown thou

sands of disaffected men loose upon the country ,and most of them were relatives and countrymenof our own sepoys. The latter had

,with much

reason , been praised and patted on the back until

74 THE SILENT INDIA .

they had unfortunately formed exaggerated ideasof their own power and importance . The Nawab’sforces

,moreover, included wild spiri ts from all

parts of India ; and i ndeed th is part o f the

country was,

as Sir Henry Lawrence said,a

veritable Alsatia . This wise man,who was so

soon to perish, saw the danger clearly

,and

,

writing in ’

5 6,urged the garrisoning of Oudh

by Punj ab regiments instead o f by the locallev ies and police

,but without success . Here

were elements of trouble so powerful that thel ighting up of a conflagration needed but theappl ication of a match , and probably incidentssuch as the issu ing of greased cartridges wereo f altogether secondary importance in the causation o f the revolt in th is part of the country.

Sir Henry l ies i n the l i ttle churchyard in theResidency grounds under a stone wh ich bears athis own request h is name and the simple words ,Who tried to do h is duty .

” No more modest ortruer epitaph w as ever written .

That the state of anarchy and corruption intowhich the administra tion of Oudh had fallen

justified interference , i s apparent from the reportso f Generals Outram

,Sleeman

,and others— and

Sleeman especially,from h is extended tour

,had a

special opportunity of'

gauging the situation ; butthat the inhabitants of the rural areas regardedtheir condition as so deplorable as i t appeared tous

,i s extremely doubtful . There is always a

tendency to suppose that individuals less favour

THE GARDEN OF INDIA . 5

ably situated than ourse lves must look upon theirl i ves anddisabil ities as w e should were we in the irplaces , but i f th is were really the case , revolutionwould be the order of the day . The author hasbeen fortunate in the possession of the confidence

of many loya l and intell igent Indian gentlemen , asalso of men of lesser degree , and has often discussedsuch matters with them . They denied that themasses were down - trodden and discontented in thepre-annexation days

,and what they said in sub

stantiation of their V iews had considerable reasonin it. They acknowledged the incessant warfarealways going on between the various minor potentates which (they sa id) had come to be regardedas a normal state of afia irs

,but they contended

that in th is very fact lay the protection of theryot and the lower classes from rack-renting andOppression by their over-lords . They pointed out

that such action on the part of a landowner wouldhave inevitably ledto the desertion o f h is followers ,their emigration from his land

,and their enl ist

ment under the banners o f h is enemies ; and thatit would not have been long before the diminutionin the fighting strength of a rapacious tyrantwould have laid him open to attack and probableextinction by one of h is more powerful and re

inforced opponents . These inter-family and intertribal feuds were excessively bitter

,and had

existed often for generations . It was certainlyan observed fact during the Mutiny that one of

the first acts of a petty ruler when he took the

7 6 THE SILENT INDIA .

field was,no t to place h is forces at the disposal

of the authori ties,but to fall upon an hereditary

foe who had espoused the Opposite cause . A fewwere loyal ( if i t be so regarded ) , and others sato n the fence with considerable ul timate advantageto themselves but , as a rule , there was no compromise about the action of the Oudh landowners ,and there was l i ttle of the astuteness displayedwh ich is sa id to have characterised the conductof Scottish ch iefta ins during the risings of the Pretenders . In more than one instance a Taluqdar

escorted the Europeans in h is neighbourhood to a

place o f safe ty,and then took the fieldagainst us

and fought to the bitter end . One looks in vain ,however

,for much indication of what we should

call true patr iotism'

or sympa thy with the un

successful defender of h i s country throughoutthese troublous t imes ; and when the rising tideo f British success showed indubitably what theresult of the struggle would be

,the welcome

o f the refugee sepoy in his village home was

far from comforting , and he was frequently de

prived of his loot , and escorted out of the settlement to seek an asylum elsewhere .

A perusal and consideration of th is portion ofIndian h istory creates the impression that , asregards the annexa tion , at the onset there wasa good deal of vacillation at headquarters , andthe eventua l fulfilment of the desires andwisheso f the more determined men . Then came thereckoning — the great upheaval — the usual dis

78 THE SILENT INDIA .

o f selected mil itary and civil officers) found a hardtask in introducing and establ ishing order andsystem among a population in which anarchy andchaos had existed for generations . The lateNawab ’s wri t had really only run in portions ofh is possessions . At the time of wh ich the authorwrites

,violent crime was terribly prevalent ;

poisoners lay in wait for the unsuspecting travellerwith whom they fraternised on the lonely road ;and the district held severa l large bands of armedmarauders known as “ dacoits

,who robbed

indiscriminately— burning v il lages and tortu ringmen and women to make them disclose the spotswhere their treasures were h idden . The Europeancommunity in the district to wh ich the writer wasposted consisted of but five persons— four officials

and one lady . The Deputy Commissioner (orDistrict Officer) and the Joint Magistrate wereboth senior and experienced members of theCovenanted Civil Service , of the type whichIndian greybeards to -day call the old sah ibs

,

opinionated no doubt, but courteous , determined ,and honourable men

,with a full appreciation of

wha t i s meant by the expression noblesse oblige.

The Superintendent of Pol ice w as a colonel in theold Oudh Military Police , andwas a survivor ofthe massacre of Delhi . The Deputy Collector wasan ex -bandsman in a British regiment who hadrece ived h is appointment for consp icious servicesduring the late disturbances , andwas an unscientific

but excellent natural ist ; and the present writer,

THE GARDEN OF INDIA . 79

who was what was then termed a grif, held thepost of Civi l Surgeon . The lady (who should havecome first) was the wife of one of the civil ians , andwas a kind sensible woman , who more or lessmothered us all . We saw our fellow-countrymenonly at long intervals , but our work was constantand interesting , and it w as in the companionship

,and under the instruction

,of those wise old

friends,that the author imbibed that attachment

to the country and its people which has neverleft him in after l ife. The glamour which surroundsIndia for the new arrival had evaporated

,but the

sentiment of disgust which commonly accompaniesdisillusionment

,had also nearly passed away . The

Anglo-Indian usual ly goes through three phasesin his mental attitude towards the average nativeof India . In the first, the courteous and obligingmanner

,the dignity of the better classes

,the un

expected intelligence, and the evident desire toplease— all set in a novel and interesting environment— produce a most favourable impression uponhim . This i s the stage at wh ich the “

grif” and

the“ globe - trotter ” a rrive . After a variable

period,which has been known to extend to six

months,a reaction sets in . The European i s

staggered by the recognition of the fact that i tis unsafe to bel ieve anyth ing he hears

,and that

there is hardly an incident in h i s l ife,i n which

Indians are concerned , which may not be part ofan organised scheme of dissimulation and intrigueto attain an obj ect wh ich he has never even

8 0 THE SILENT INDIA .

suspected . Day by day it will be borne in uponh im that the people very rarely trust one another

,

and that (p a ce Max Mul ler) mendaci ty is regarded ,i f discredi table at all , as a very venial offence.He discovers that although

,i f properly directed

and led , the inhabitants o f the country can berendered effect ive and rel iable

,they are individ

nal ly rarely capable of in itiative,

and seldomthorough in anything they undertake . He finds

that the knowledge he at first admired i s superficial , and often but a mere v eneer over a masso f crude supersti tion and deep - rooted prej udices .What he hears about the social and intellectualposition of the women in their homes is repugnantto hi s Western idea s on the subj ect. He notesthat there is an almost complete absence of thealtruist i c spiri t , the sense of publ ic duty and

moral courage,in the community

,and that the

worst motives are commonly assigned for anyaction not understood . No doubt , in his revulsionof feel ing , his views are exaggerated , but therecognition of these facts engenders sentimentsof contempt and disl ike , and when it is furtherlearnt that these people look upon him as anoutcast

,the position i s not improved . This is the

point at wh ich the average men -sah ib halts .There i s

,however

,fortunate ly , a third and last

stage which is eventually reached by the ex

perienced Anglo -Indian , when his attitude be

comes far more ph ilosophical and j ust . He becomestolerant of Eastern views on the subj ect of veracity ;

82 THE SILENT INDIA .

t ion in a European is too usual to be fortuitous—it i s natural ly evolved as the result of longresidence i n India

,and i s probably what the

people of that country most admire and appreciate .

Their h ighest term o f praise for the administrationo f an indiv idual or a government is that i t isparental .We had few social functions . Once

,indeed

,we

rece ived orders to meet a certain train at ournearest railway station to pay obeisance to animportant person who had temporarily descendedfrom Olympus

,and th is necessitated a great turn

ing out of articles of attire which had long re

posed forgotten in boxes . At intervals , i t is true ,we had seen them hung out to dry in the sun byour Indian servants

,but the dark and formal

vestments of the West looked too funereal in thebrightness of an Indian sun ,

and had been returnedeach time to their tombs

,unti l the creases (all

formed,by the efforts o f the “ bearer

,

” in thewrong places) had become fixed and irremove

able . Into these sombre and archaic garments wenow squeezed ourselves

,and waited

,looking very

l ike a l ine o f early V i ctorian dog-stea lers , on thera i lway platform for the coming of the great man.

But there was one feature of the show which re

deemed it from the commonplace,and that was the

Deputy Commissioner’s tall hat . This ancientrel ic

,fiat o f brim

,sl igh tly bulging in

,from the

prolonged influence o f climate , at the sides , and

which had exchanged its pri stine glossy blackness

THE GARDEN OF INDIA . 8 3

for a mouldy green,loomed up l ike some vener

able andhoary tower above a collection of vulgarand (fa i rly) modern structures round it— to thejoy and glory o f i ts owner ! The interview wasshort and unattended with incident , and thepotentate himself was disappointing. Apart froma hauteur which would have excited remark in anemperor , but which was perhaps justified by our

appearance , he presented no unusual features .The obscurity of the writer saved h im from contact with the Presence

,and thereby enabled him

to answer,in an aside

,the interested inquiry of

one o f the staff with whom he happened to havehad a former acqua intance

,as to who was “ the

scarecrow in the topper .” Of suchwise i s theglory of th is world !We lived li terally among the people , spendinga good portion of our time in camp and mixingfreely with the Indian noblemen and gentry. Thiswas before the days o f Loca l Self-Government sofew official meetings were held

,but the officers

were accessible to all,and nobody could be sure

of, not merely what the “ Burra Sah ib ”

(theDeputy Commissioner) knew ,

but also,more im

portant still,what he did not know . As said

before,Indians trust one another very l ittle . A

story is told of a distinguished mil ita ry admin is

trator in the north -west of India who had rece ivedsecret information that a rising had been arrangedamong the leaders of certa in wild tribes on thefrontier , and he knew not only the date fixed for

84 THE SILENT INDIA .

the disturbance,but also the names of the head

men implicated . He proceeded into their countryand called them

,together with others who hadno

share in the contemplated émeute,nomina lly to

discuss some border question of no great importance .Each leader was summoned separately to his tentand granted an audience lasting a few minutes.With the innocent men he talked freely about theobject o f the meeting

,but when the principa l ring

leader was ushered into h is presence , he continuedwriting andkeeping silence for nearly an hour , andthen abruptly asked

,How is your parrot Ou

receiving some surprised reply,he rose and court

eously dismissed his vis itor . The conference was tohave been continued in the morning

,but when day

broke,all the disaffected headmen had vanished !

It appeared that all the men had met together inthe dark , and had discussed wha t had transpiredat the interviews . Not one o f them bel ieved thestory of the owner of the imaginary parrot , andrapidly concluding that he had really given themall away

,had gathered their belongings together

and bolted . The rising never occurred.

A somewhat similar case occurred with in theknowledge of the writer h imself. Certain in

fluential and discontented shopkeepers in a largecity had arranged on an appointed date to closethe bazaar— i e ,

to shut all shops by way of aprotest— a time-honoured Eastern expedient givingrise to much inconvenience and excitement , andcerta in to call general public attention to a

8 6 THE SILENT INDIA .

anyone displaying signs of state or opulence,he at

once marked h im down as a possible source ofdanger

,or as an individual from whom money

could be squeezed . These ra i sed village sites,

known as “ dib s,

” are formed by the falling downof old mud huts and the erection of new oneson their ruins (an Eastern custom for wh ich ex

ploring Assyriologists have reason to be grateful ) ,and since nearly every courtyard to a hut hascattle tied up in it during the night

,the result is

that the soil of such local ities has become saturatedwith salts derived from organic matters . A classo f labourers known as “ loon iyas

” often extractthese salts by passing the earth

,dissolved in

water,through rough reed screens— separating

the chlorides from the nitrates by boiling,and

sell ing the latter to native factories,where coarse

gunpowder,used mostly for fireworks, i s manu

facturedunder the supervision of the authorities .An authoress , describing her early impressions

of mud villages in the East , speaks of them aspossessing “

a pecul iar charm ,

”and gives her

reasons . “ They give you a feel ing o f pressingvery close to nature ; they scarcely suggest humanhabita tions , not because of their poverty butbecause of the i r s implicity of thought andabsenceof unnecessary labour.” The description appliesvery wel l to Indian villages— although the particular point o f view had not occurred to the writer.But he can understand the idea— they must structurally differ very l ittle from what they were

THE GARDEN OF INDIA . 7

thousands o f years ago ; but when a man has tokeep himself and his wife and bring up a familyon ten shill ings a month

,there is l ittle opportunity

of indulging in arch itectura l hobbies . The ownerbuilds h is dwell ing himself from material s on thespot

,devoting as much care to the warding off of

the Evil Eye during i ts erection,as a Western

proprietor would to sanitary cons iderations .In these l ittle se ttlements the people clustertogether

,not only for safety but also for con

venience ; for every village is a unit complete initself, and furnished with the craftsmen and

menials required to satisfy the ir modest wants .As already stated

,at the period of which the

author writes,there were many bands of wander

ing freebooters in th is part of the country whosepresence made residence in an outly ing hut or

hamlet extremely risky both as regards li fe andproperty . The leader o f one such band , Hoolass

by name,was a great source of worry to the

magistrate and pol ice at the time. He came of

a good but impoverished family,and was a man

of considerable character— never robbing the poor ,but even often bestowing chari ty upon themas a consequence of which no assistance was everforthcoming from among the villagers which wouldhave led to h is capture . His prey was the richshopkeeper or moneylender

,and his hand w as

against all authority . Caught and convicted at

last through the medium of a Del ilah , he promisedthe j udge who tried the case

,and the tehsildar

8 8 THE SILENT INDIA .

(an Indian official who i s the righ t hand of themagistrate ) who had brought him to book , that hewould have h is revenge . The local j ail only heldh im for a short time

,and soon after hi s escape

,the

j udge found,on waking in h is house one morning

,

a notice pinned to h is breast,from Hoolass, who

could have killed you.

” His retal iat ion on thetehsildar ” was more serious

,for

,waylaying that

portly official on a lonely road,he and his band

stripped him stark naked and drove h im in the

shafts of his own l ittle carriage into a villagei n broad dayl ight ! He was a sort of EasternRobin Hood

,and delighted in effects . One

Christmas day,the magistrate

,who had gone for

a short hol iday with his camp into an adjoiningdistrict , unattended by any but a few personalservants

,was surprised by the arriva l of Hoolass

and some ha lf-dozen followers fully armed and

dressed in gala attire (green velve t andgold lace) ,who respectfully presented him with the “ dal i ”

or l i ttl e gift o f fru it and vegetables wh ich it iscustomary to offer to a superior on that day , andthe acceptance of which denotes approval andfriendl iness . This was pretty cool for an outlaw ,

as he then was,but there was noth ing to be done

in the presence o f"

th is superior force , and theofficer wisely accepted the situation and merelydecl ined the gift with a laugh ; whereupon theparty

,after respectful ly sa laaming

,

” marched off.Poor Hoolass, for whom the writer could not resistsome kindly feel ings , was re -caught soon after and

90 THE SILENT INDIA .

Indian medica l assistant and the wri ter at oncethat the girl was of h igh

,and the man of low

,

caste . There was no question about the cause ofdeath— the heads of both had been smashed inwith some weapon l ike a hatchet. The case wasevidently unusual

,famil iarised as we were with

such incidents,and a call was made on the magis

trate,who said tha t a most respectable Brahman

landowner had j ust come in and reported havingk illed h is daughter and a low-caste man withwhom he found she had an intrigue . He sentfor the Brahman

,a fine

,tal l , gentlemanly man

of about sixty years of age,who quietly narrated

how he had found the two together and killedthem with an axe while they slept . He hadthen walked in some twenty miles

,bringing with

him a bundle of'

clean wh ite clothes which he hadexchanged for h is blood-sta ined garments beforecoming into the magistrate ’s presence. As he wasa man o f excellent character and known to be anaffectionate fa ther

,the matter created an extra

ordinary amount o f i nterest in the local ity . Thecase was committed to the Sessions , where thewriter gave evidence , and he can see to-day theoldman in the dock

,relating with calm dignity

all the details o f the murder,and ending up with

the words,

“ And if i t be the wil l of God thatI should be hanged

,so be it , for my

‘ izzat ’ isgone .

” The court was packed with interestedspectators

,and a t these words a murmur of

applause rolled through the bu ilding. He was

THE GARDEN OF INDIA . 9 1

of course conv icted,but , the circumstances of the

case being taken into considerat ion , the penaltywas very light . There was probably not a man

or woman in that court who did not regard thecrime as perfectly justified, or who did not extolthe clemency of the j udge . The punishment offemale fra il ty in India i s , i t i s suspected , oftenswift and irregular

,and when a woman is found

dead at the bottom of a well,the evidence o f the

villagers is not always readily forthcoming .

The simple l ife of the villager is much the sameall over Upper India , and has been roughlysketched elsewhere . He i s an industrious man ,

and very frequent ly has a grea t incentive tolabour in the fact that he is working for h imself.There is certainly no unseemly haste about hismovements as a rule— he rests at intervals and

consoles himself with his “ hookah ”

(a weirdarticle consisting of a cocoa -nut full of water withtwo reeds proj ecting from it above ; one sur

mounted by an earthenware receptacle for tobaccoand fire

,and the other the one to wh ich he applies

his lips) , but i t must not be forgotten that he seesthe sun rise and set while at h is labour , and a

good deal of leisurely work can be got through inthis space of time . Apart from the care of thehousehold , his wife often helps h im in the l ighteragricultural operations

,such as weeding

,planting

out rice, &c. ; she has the drawing of the waterfrom the well in an earthen pitcher suspended bya cord ; she has to grind the corn in the l ittle

92 THE SILENT INDIA .

mill in the hut , a ssisted by a female relationor friend (for i t is§very hard work ) and there are

the meals to prepare for her husband and children.

Once the latter are weaned,they subsist 0 11 very

much the same food as the rest o f the family—unleavened cakes , boiled r ice , pulses , and vege

tables,al l made savoury by o il

,sal t

,spices

,and

condiments . She and her ch ildren will only eatafter her husband has finished, and indeed inall outward Observances , even in walking , willgive h im precedence .Nearly every woman in India is

,or has been

,

married,and nearly every man has a large family.

The birth -rate per thousand is about th irty -nine,

but the infantile death -rate i s distressingly high .

The average total death - rate per thousand of

population is someth ing like th irty - four,but it

i s the mortal ity among the ch ildren under one

year of age which largely accounts for th is fornearly a quarter of those born will not surviveinfancy . Th is is a very grievous matter ; butwhen children are hurried into the world withoutany regard to such considerat ions as the means ofadequately supporting them ,

i t is in the nature ofth ings that the struggle for existence should behard,

and indeed it i s very much a question of thesurvival of the fi ttest . They suffer from no part icular form of disease , and the mortal ity is notattributable to any specific causes with which thephilanthropist or sanitarian can effectually deal .The parents are affectionate and do their best , but

94 THE SILENT INDIA .

madan women,andpeople who should have known

be tter,have not only written and stated that the

rel igion of Islam denies to females the possessiono f a soul or the right to admission into Paradise

,

but ha ve even introduced the a lleged fact intoarguments and discussions relating to the positionof the sexes . The statement is absolutely incorrect

,and the Koran i s most expl ici t upon the

point . It would be easy to quote numerous passages in proof of this

,but one taken from chapter

xi i i . v . 70 should suffice . It runs : “ Enter intoParadise

, ye and your wives, happy .

”Few women

indeed have enj oyed the confidence and affectiono f thei r husbands more than did Muhammad

’sfavourite wife A

’i sha , and she was honoured onher death by the ti tles of “ Prophetess ” andMother of the Faithful .” After uttering hername and that of other saintly women , Muham

madans usually add ,“ May they find acceptance

wi th Allah .

” It is recorded in the “ Hadeth,

the “ Traditional Sayings of Muhammad,that

he defin itely stated that another of h is wives ,Khadija (his first convert ) , hadbeen , to hi s divineknowledge

,admitted into Paradise as a reward for

her faith .

The usual crops are those grown in the UnitedProvinces generally. The Opium poppy (P ap a ver

somn iferum) was , at the time of which the authorwrites

,much grown in Oudh

,and the extensive

fields of th is plant with its large white flow ers,added a good deal to the beauty of the landscape .

THE GARDEN OF INDIA . 95

As soon as the petals have fa llen , l i ttle nicks aremade in the green capsules , and the fluid whichexudes from them is scraped off every morning ,placed in earthen vessels , and presently taken tothe Government depot , presided over by an officer

of the Opium Department . The hat has goneforth that this industry is to be at all eventsreduced in extent . It is futile to enter into acontroversy on the subj ect , but the writer hasgone a li ttle into the ma tter (he was once president of an official committee to inquire into thesale of deleterious drugs — more especially ofcocaine) , and very much questions whether , sofar as India i s concerned , any action in th isdirection was really called for . He has seldomseen instances of excess in the consumption ofthe drug except among the few habitués of opiumdens in large cities , and the average man takesi t as a medicine occasionally , or as a member ofthe well-to-do classes in England might indulgein a glass of port wine after dinner. It i s held inconsiderable popular esteem as a remedy aga instmalaria and dysentery . It is too expensive to beused extensively by the poorer people . At al levents , under the existing system the consumerobtains a pure and unadulterated article

,and

inasmuch as it i s generally conceded that youcannot make a man virtuous by Act of Parliament

,

the individual addicted to such a form of selfindulgence would

,i f thwarted

,probably take to

some other , and very likely more pernicious , solace .

96 THE SILENT INDIA .

Two facts are worth considering in th is connection,

and one i s that at present drunkenness in thecountry is qu ite uncommon , and the other is thatthe waste land and j ungles furn ish many readilyaccessible plants , such as Indian hemp (CannabisI ndica ) , &c .

,which can be always drawn upon in

the absence of the present more popular narcotic .So far as concerns the pol i tical aspect of restric

tions on thi s production,the average native of

India would regard them as he does most administrat iv e vagaries . He would be perfectly in

credulous if informed that we were sacrificing alarge revenue from philanthmpic motives , andregrettable as i t may be— would cast about forsome other and more probable explanation of sucha mysterious enactment ; and in thi s he wouldmost l ikely be assisted by the agitator. TheIndian masses as a rule have confidence in ourgood intentions

,but the why and wherefore of any

action not easily intell igible must be explained tothem

,and the difficulty i s to hnd the mach inery

for doing th is . Even such an obviously kindlyact as the distribution of rel ief in famine timeswas at first regarded with distrust and suspicion ;though these of course soon came to be removed .

It is a hard posit ion for a government to be inwhen the meaning of its most benevolent ofi

orts isoften only fully understood by those most interested i n misrepresenting the facts , but so i t is , andit is perhaps j ust as wel l to recognise the existenceof th is suspicious mental a ttitude on the part of

98 THE SILENT INDIA .

came to see and appreciate the merits of the system .

So tactfully did the district officers work thatl i ttle or no friction occurred the staff of Operatorswas gradually increased and the writer l ived tosee the women who had formerly fled with theirch ildren into the j ungles when he approached theirv illages

,press forward with confidence to accept

the protection offered . The smallpox mortal itytables over a period of years tell their own story.

Although there was no big game in the district,

there was abundance of other kinds of sport,and

the numerous stretches o f water swarmed withwild fowl of all descriptions. We also kept anondescript collection of dogs known as a“ bobbery pack , and had many a good run aftera j ackal or the nimble l ittle plains fox . Then aneighbouring raj ah kept hawks , and sometimesaccompanied us on riding parties with these birdsin the early morning. Black -buck were plentiful

,

and in some local ities wild pig could be found andridden with the spear. Of course the writer

,as

Civil Surgeon,was more tied to the settlement than

the other officials, for there were the hospital andj ail to be seen to . But as regards the former , avery unpretentious building with very little ao

commodation for in-patients,i t could usually be

safely left to the care of a veteran Pathan doctorwho had accompanied Dr Brydon in the disastrousretreat from Cabul in ’

42, and who had escaped

destruction by his youth and insign ificance andthe fact of h is being a Muhammadan of the north .

THE GARDEN OF INDIA . 99

The old man was very disincl ined to speak of hisadventures

,which , i t i s suspected , were not

characterised by any remarkable heroism ordevotion .

Sporting trips into the interior,i t may be

mentioned,were commonly made by Civil Surgeons

in the smaller districts in those times,and were

very useful in rendering the hospitals popular andof real use to the Villagers . Some of these officersin earl ier days had not been very keen about professional work . In a certa in station with wh ichthe writer was famil iar , was an apothecary ofmixed extract ion (whom we will call Brown ) , whohad just retired after a long but not particularlystrenuous career , and between whom and hisofficial superiors there appeared to have been somefriction . Mr Brown had rel ieved h is feelings previons to hi s departure by noting in pencil

,in the

last departmenta l report in the otfice ,his opinions

regarding certain Civil Surgeons and h is administrative superiors . The comments on those among theformer who had been commended by Governmentfor zeal

,were terse and severely critica l— such as ,

“ a pet,

” “ a fraud,

” “ a butcher,

” “ dangerous,”

bloodthirsty,

”&c. The Surgeon -General was de

scribed as“ a Simla parasite

,

” and the Secretarywho had compiled the review

,as a self-sufficient

ass .” The cause o f th is rancour was disclosed inthe brief paragraph in the report on the offi cer

s

own work , and the description of h imself as“ slothful and “ deficient i n professional know

100 THE SILENT INDIA .

ledge . This had been evidently too much for Mr

Brown , who , scorning any explanation or defence ,had contented himsel f with writing against theobservation

,the word “ l iar , underl ined , on the

marginUnder the auspice s of such an official , a hospital ,

as may be surmised,would not have flourished

,

and i ts existence would have been hardly knownoutside the settlement . Early in the eigh ties

,

under the stimulus given by certa in administrativemedical offi cers

,a wave of professional enthusiasm

swept over the country,and every method was

adopted to win the confidence of the masses andinduce them to come to these institutions ; and toth is end i t was necessary to go to the people themselves . It was possible on these expeditions to situnder the counci l tree with the elders o f the Village

,

and to ca ll together and ta lk to the sufferers fromvarious afflictions

,and, where anyth ing to relieve

could be done,to dispel their fears and to arrange

for their removal in country carts to the hospitalfor trea tment . This plan for popularis ing theseinstitutions was

,as said , generally practised and

with exce llent results , all over the provinces , andthe amount of work

,surgical especia lly , done in

some of them,was astonish ing. The pol itica l effect

of the ministrations o f the medical profess ion inIndia has not been perhaps sufficiently recognised .

The members of no service or class get in to suchclose touch with the inner l ife and thoughts ofthe people in all grades of Indian society . The

1 02 THE SILENT INDIA .

racquet -court,or swimming-bath ; and golf, wh ich

would have been a godsend as a form of recreation ,was then a lmost unknown in India . Our onlydissipations were lawn tennis and whist . It wasa rel ief

,therefore , when one day a yellow envelope

marked State Urgen t was handed to the writer.Its contents were laconic . The defeat at Ma iwand

had just occurred,and the telegram ran , Join

regiment march ing to Morar . A second one laterin the day from the commanding officer, statedthat we were to j oin the field force for the rel iefo f Kandahar , and a week later we were blundering over the stones in the dismal Bolan Pass onour way to the front. But that

,as Kipling would

say , i s another story .

AN EASTERN VOYAGE.

SCENE : a late October morning on the departureplatform of

'

a London terminus. Drama tis p er

30 1109 : passengers starting for the East . The lastgood-byes are said

,the whistle sounds

,and the

special ” tears through the fertile fields of Kent ,ignoring all th e famil iar stopping-places

,and thus

bearing in upon us the first recognition of the factthat we have broken touch with home and itscircumscribed environment

,and are spreading our

pinions,l ike birds of passage

,for a longer

,wider

flight.

No link is furnished at Dover— the train runsalong the pier to the side of the steamer , and

with a celerity and display of intelligent organisation which it will be long before we experienceaga in

,w e , with our luggage

,&c . , are embarked

to undergo perhaps the most trying and uncom

fortable piece of travel wh ich we shall encounteron our whole j ourney of some six thousand miles .Then comes Cala i s with entraining, and a rushthrough smiling France

,broken by a glimpse of

1 0 4 THE SILENT INDIA .

l i t - up pleasant Paris , sleep (where it comes tothose who have left dear ones at home)— andthen dayligh t

,bright sunsh ine

,and Marseilles .

The “ special proceeds direct to the quay,and

here l ies the great sh ip wh ich i s to be our homefor the next fortnight or so ; with a J ittle smokeissuing from the funnels , and the blue - peterstreaming from the mast . A feverish time suc

ceeds our arrival . Is the baggage all right ?

What is th e cabin l ike,and who are our com

panions i n it ? Do we know any one on board,

&c. , &c .? We are discovered and appropriated

by stewards in their sh irt-sleeves,who have iden

tified us by h ieroglyph ics on our belongings , andwho will minister to our wants on the voyage.It i s a bustl ing scene . Superior beings in goldstripes issue orders ; agents are rushing aboutwith letters and telegrams for passengers ; deckchairs are being bundled on board ; an incessantcackling issues from crates ful l of geese and fowlspassed in through the open gangways ; discordantsounds well up from itinerant musicians on theshore strings of lascars and porters struggle upthe broad ladders with heavy boxes and baggagethere i s a very babel of tongues

,and all i s appar

ently chaos . Klang-a,klang-a

,klang-a

,klang-a

,

goes the ship’s hell with an excited redupl icatedsound

,and the boatswain’s pipe i s heard shrilly

call ing. Asiatics,i n unfamiliar garb

,with brimless

straw-hats bound round with red puggris,” run

along the deck trail ing huge hawsers ; a l ittle

106 THE SILENT INDIA .

the purser ’s creed,i s i nhabited almost entirely

by lady ’s-ma ids and lactiferous cows . Possibly inthese later days h is v iews have become extended ,but this particular voyage which lingers in thememory was undertaken many years ago ,

andbefore the mellifluous accents of Chicago floatedon the Eastern breeze

, or the bulky form of theIndian potentate so often cast its curious shadowon the deck . Our party consisted practical ly of

army men,Governmen t officials in the various

Indian civi l departments,planters

,barristers ,

merchants, &c.

— many of them accompanied bytheir wives and a sprinkl ing of ch ildren . Wehad several “ spins ” going out to be married“

immediately,or in posse ; a couple of miss ionaries ;

an authoress of more part icularly mental attractions , seeking facts or their substitutes in pastures new ; and a few unclassified individualswho will yield , later ou,

not the least interesting information and entertainment in ourlengthy and discursive conversations during thevoyage .Life on board sh ip

,i t must be conceded

,always

has a considerable sameness,and the traveller is

well advised who takes with him a few books of

some l ittle depth on any particular subject inwh ich he may be interested or feels inclined tostudy . We rise

,breakfast

,smoke

,lunch

,walk ,

indulge in restricted athleti cs , dine in some splendour

,sing or are sung to

,smoke the last cigar ,

and so ,as old Pepys would say

,to bed . We run

AN EASTERN VOYAGE . 1 0 7

through the Straits of Bonifacio and view theisland which was the birthplace of that greatman whom Carlyle so grudgingly admits into h isl ist of heroes

,and touch at Ma l ta

,where w e visit

,

among other sights,the magnificent church dating

from 1 573 , which holds the bones and monumentsof four hundred of the valiant knights of S t John ;and probably wax indignant over the story o f howthe trumpet which we see in the palace , had beensounded when the warriors finally left the islandand had only once been heard since , when a youngwoman took it out of its case to use i t at a fancydress ball

,and blew i t aga in for the amusement

of her empty -headed admirers . Think of the profanity ! One wonders that she was not blastedon the spot .On through seas where Grecian warsh ips andRoman triremes wandered and fought ; where theenterprising Phoenic ians carried on their extensivemaritime trade and where Cleopatra

,da lly ing

with the infatuated Anthony,floated in her gorge

ous bark with purple sa ils,and so perfumed that

the winds were love -s ick with them .

” Port Said ,then a nest of ruffians of all nations , castes , andcreeds

,deta ins us for some hours

,and we go

ashore to be out of the w ay andwaste our moneyon unprofitable rubbish~ for here w e take in coa l ,and long l ines of semi -nude savages

,with an added

blackness from coal-dust,skip up the long bending

planks and shoot their burdens into the bunkersof the ship . At night th is operation , performed

1 08 THE SILENT INDIA .

in the ligh t from blazing torches , reminds one ofa scene from the Inferno .

Presently we clean up , and glide into thatimportant di tch which owes its construction tothe talented M . de Lesseps , carrying out thedream of h is great countryman Napoleon Bonaparte

,but of which the conception goes back to

the time o f the Pharaoh s ; and watch the vasttracts o f sand on either side more or less coveredat interva l s with sheets of shallow water uponwh ich great flocks of cranes

,storks

,pelicans ,

flamingoes, and water-f'

owl are wading and feeding. It is a we ird part of the voyage th is , andwe feel almost amphibious . We are carrying themail now ; and at the sight of the flag at our

mast - head all sh ips crawling through the Canalgive way and the crews moor to the bank tolet us pass

,with observations

,useful i n many

countries o f the world,but unsuited to a Sunday

school book . Getting a gl impse o f picturesqueIsma i l ia

,w e thread Lake Timsah and the Bitter

Lakes,and next morn ing resume our maritime

habits and are lying off Suez in the Gulf o f thatname .Cold uncertain weather and the uncomfortable

process of acquiring the accompl ishment knownas “ getting your sea legs

,

” have up till nowresulted in an exh ibition of constra int and desirefor seclusion on the part of many of the passengers , very unfavourable to social amenities ; but achange has come over the spirit of the scene . It

1 1 0 THE SILENT INDIA .

and curious bowls,emerge staggering from the

companion -way and subside groaning into longchairs . Frail subj ects of Father Neptume these ,who agree with Byron in regard ing a sh ip as afloating prison , with a chance of gett ing drowned .

Among such do our menials amass much weal th .

Twenty-four hours seem to have blended us alltogether

,but of course the change has not really

been so sudden . Cautious people have been takingstock of their ne ighbours all the time ; but now athaw has set in , Nature is set free , and it i s l ikethe breaking up of the ice in a northern river .Ou a voyage it i s wise to be in no great hurryabout making friendships , and it is interesting toobserve how soon pretentious people are found outin the close relations involved in board-sh ip l ife.At the start a few blatant personal ities dominatethe situation

,but their reign i s short. A week

later and they become known for the shallowth ings they are , and are as such neglected ; theirplaces being quietly taken by probably the mostunsuspected people in the ship ,— which i s one of

the l ittle useful lessons learned in travel.A smothered roar from the “ syren

,

” and wespeed on our w ay down the Red Sea— both namesdesigned on the lucus a non lucendo principle , forthe syren speaks with the voice of an intoxicatedVulcan

,and the Red Sea is blue . Given the right

temperature , th is i s by far the most del ightfulpart of the voyage . A mysterious man clad inblue j ean has entered your cabin and opened theporthole during the night

,and the sunlight dances

AN EASTERN VOYAGE . 1 1 1

on the ceil ing as you open your eyes at an hourwhich (assuming you are of temperate habits ) youhave until now conceived impossible of devotionto anyth ing but sleep . You rise and gaze out o f

the opening,drinking in deep draughts o f pure ,

fresh,balmy air

,andwatch the flying-fish making

their short silvery fl ights , startled by the presenceof the strange intruder into their haunts . Theengines beat like the heart of some great monster

,

and the water glides past with a gentle swishagainst the side of the vessel . Enters the stewardin deshabille and somewhat out of keeping withthe poetic surroundings , but bearing a welcomecup of tea and some biscuits , and retires aga inafter being del ivered of a few remarks of a kindlybut un-oriental character— bearing out your shoesto be pipe-clayed . Now for a plunge into a coolsea-bath before the rush of bathers accumulates inthe corridors a stroll on the newly washed-downdeck ; and a glimpse over the bows of the sh ipwhere the sharp prow cleaves the water andthrows ofi

a wall of l iquid azure to either side asthe good craft forges her way across the ocean .

You will welcome the loud clanging of the sh ip ’sbell

,and the more modest one of the head

steward which presently denotes that breakfastis ready !Very deligh tful indeed is sea travel in th is part

of the world at this time of the year , but the trailof the serpent

,nevertheless

,i s over i t all . Those

who go down to the sea in sh ips know that th isblue sparkling expanse of water is the home of

1 1 2 THE SILENT INDIA.

countless and ravenous sharks , and tha t to fal loverboard probably means a horrible death . Theyknow that these shore s and h ills

,bathed in the

soft languorous haze , are in real ity sterile sandywastes from which dusky Arab robbers andmarauders would swoop down on the hapless castaway drifted up from the ocean ; and that thecoral zoophytes are incessantly working beneaththe wa ter , slowly building up the uncharted reefupon which some il l -fated craft may on any daystrike ; t hough she could perhaps have run overit safe ly a week before . One dark night we

abruptly stop,and various ingenious and sooth ing

reasons are a ssigned by the ship ’s officers ; but thereal one is tha t we have run down an Arabdhow

,

” probably carrying slaves across the waterand showing no lights on account of her ill icitoccupation . The look - out had suddenly heardcries and the sound o f crash ing timbers under thebows of the great vessel— followed by silence andvacancy . A l i ttle unconsidered community hadbeen blotted out of existence !Little do we reck , however , of such matters in

these lotus-eating days . The charm of the l ife isthat you do not know how the day passes ; but it ismostly in a long cha i r , and attended with a considerable consumption o f tobacco . There are ofcourse no letters or telegrams (Marconi was inswaddling - clothes when th is voyage happened ) ,but there is the ship ’s l ibrary (a sort of l iterarysillabub) , and the discourse of your fellow - men

1 1 4 THE SILENT INDIA .

of the soft monotony of the routine work . A

sudden violent clanging of the dreadful sh ip ’s bellcalls the crew to quarters , and startled women totheir cabin doors . Openings in the deck vomitforth denizens apparently of all the dim places ofthe earth

,who have up ti ll now been concealed

somewhere in the bowels of the sh ip — tumblingover the sleepy and indignant old gentlemen inthe cha irs

,and presently ranging themselves in

long l ines on the deck . This is a fire-parade , andafter the Captain and officers have inspected withsuitable dignity the parti - coloured swaying ranks

,

a whistle sounds and certain unimpressive hosesopen fire (or rather water) on the sea ,

with theapparent intention of putting it out But th isparade

,after all

,i s a very serious and imp0 1 tant

function— every member of the crew thereby learnshis stat ion and the boat he is to occupy

,and if

fire , sh ipwreck , or other unforeseen disaster befallus, we may learn to appreciate i ts value and ex

pediency .

Of the stern necessity for strict discipl ine andefficient organisation , a strik ing example waspresented to the writer on another voyage . OneSunday afternoon when we were all loungingunder the awnings

,a lascar dropped into the sea

from where he was pa inting a boat hanging'

on

the davits , and a cry of “ man overboard ” rangalong the deck . Instantly a young army officerjumped over after h im , and the wildest excitement reigned . A quartermaster promptly threw

AN EASTERN VOYAGE . 1 1 5

overboard a l i fe -buoy fi tted with a device whichlights on touching the water— bells tinkled below

,

and the engines immediately stopped— a sailorclimbed to the masthead (for it is impossible tosee a swimming man from the deck in rippl ingwater)— and a boat was manned and lowered inan incredibly short space of time . A terribleperiod of anxiety followed its departure . Themomentum of the sh ip had carried her a longway ,

andwhen she was turned round , all idea of

direct ion in the trackless ocean w as lost by thespectators . It may be half an hour elapsed

,and

then the boat was seen returning , and,gladdest

sight of all , there were two men,besides the

coxswain,sitting in the stern . What cheers rang

out as they were l ifted on board and the gallant ,dripping officer was carried shoulder h igh to h iscabin ! They had reached the l ife-buoy and werehanging on to it when the boat

,guided by the

smoke of the flare,had reached them . As a

matter of fact,the lascar was far the better

swimmer of the two,but th is in no way detracts

from the heroism of the officer,who had at once

obeyed the noble instincts of h is nature “ hisnot to reason why .

” It was a miraculous escape ,not only from drowning

,but also from the stil l

more horrible death from the numerous sharkswhich infest these seas . This was one of theincidents (which happen more frequently thanperhaps Westerns wot of) the recital of whichrings through Eastern bazaars

,and renders the

1 1 6 THE SILENT INDIA .

ordinary native of India unresponsive when hehears the agitator denounce the cruelty and

tyranny o f the rul ing race ! Many friends willrecogni se th is story .

Reading,whist

,chess

,and other non -strenuous

amusements , fill i n our time during the day , andimpromptu dances

,concerts

,&c .

,serve to while

away the evenings pleasantly enough . Once , too ,

we indulge in the dissipation of a book tea ,at

which the first prize i s unanimously awarded tothe prim middle -aged lady who plays the organ onSunday

,andwho has been unfortunately assisted

in her selection o f a book by an abandoned sub

altern . It is ‘ Adam Bede ’

( the Christian namepronounced with bibl ical a ccuracy) , which shei llustrates by a large bead dangling on the frontof her demurely-clad bust. A bead , don

’t yousee

,

” she explains ; and is gratified,but slightly

perplexed,at the amount o f hilari ty which follows

the announcement .In all these lighter pursuits the sh ip ’s officers

sh ine conspicuously , and i t is a source of regre t,

from one point of view,that the possession of

such a tta inments should have become involved inpractice with unfortunate oversights as regardsnaviga tion , and thereby led sordid boards of management to issue orders of a repressive characterregarding their exh ibition. However

,they have

spared the doctor and the purser . On theseoccasions the conduct of the latter i s a source o f

genuine j oy . Where is the morose and unsym

AN EASTERN VOYAGE . 1 1 7

pathetic individua l who scowled at you from atable decora ted with the portraits of the reigningbeauties of the stage

,and

,the name of the ship

emblazoned on a large white model l i fe -bel t ? Canthis j ocund and portly figure prancing on the deckin the mazy waltz

,andwhispering airy nothings

,

slightly tinged with nicotine,into h is fa i r partner’s

ear, be the same person ? Is th is real ly the cus

todian of that much - sought - a fter but unsatis

factory an imal, the sh ip ’s cow ? Why , he is

really a right good fellow,and our first impres

sions were altogether fallacious— which i s anotherof the lessons we may learn by travel .Very enjoyable evenings do we thus pass.We have some excellent vocal performers on

board,and we sympathetically chant the regret

table fate of the unfortunate midshipmite,or

join in the eulogy of one Nancy Lee— with a“ Ho ! ho ! ho l and a Ho l ho ! ho ! Cheerily ,lads , i bo l ho ’” (at th is distance of time , theaccuracy of these quotations cannot be guaranteed ,but they were to th is effect) and when the appearance o f a persp iring steward entangled in a massof bedding intended for the accommodation of adeck sleeper

,warned the fair warblers that i t was

time to retire,what yarns we span sitting smok

ing in long chairs with,too often

,a sparkling

“ peg ” of wh isky-and-soda close at hand !Our usual coterie on these occasions consistedof the Colonel

,a tall

,spare veteran ; the Bombay

Barrister , clever , droll , and somewhat cynical ;

1 1 8 THE SILENT INDIA .

the Superintendent of Pol ice , an ardent sportsman

,quiet and rather reserved ; the District

Engineer,a Cooper’s Hill man

,to whose cheeks

colour was at last returning after a long spel l inEurope

,where he had been sent to shake off the

results o f a bad dose of malarial poi soning ; theJunior Civil ian

,capable and self-possessed

,but

j ust now somewhat chastened by a furlough inEngland

,and temporarily disturbed by haunting

doubts as to h is own infa ll ibil ity ; and , last ofall

,the Subaltern , a j olly , curly-headed

,well-set

up boy of the stamp which Britain breeds— all

eyes and ears for information regarding h is new

career . Talk ran on many topics , but, as is usuallythe case in such a collection of men

,largely on

camp life and sport . Quoth the Colonel , puffingat h is cheroot and referring to some scraps of

Indian news we had picked up from the homeward-bound papers wh ich had come on board atPort Sa id

,

“ I see there has been some seriousdacoity (brigandage) in the Jhansi district, —aparty of rich natives looted coming back from amarriage ceremony . Were you ever robbed out

there,A. he adds

,address ing the Engineer.

“ Only once , i s the reply ; i t happened inth is way . My wife and I were in camp near abiggish town , andwe had been out to dinner andcame back late. My wife was tired

,and tied up

all the j ewellery she had been wearing,i n her

pocket -handkerch ief, and put i t under her pillow.

Our dressing—bags were on tables in the tent , and

1 20 THE SILENT INDIA.

cut them both clean across the leather and ransacked the contents

,but wha t with the hullabaloo

and pursuit,th is had been done very hastily , and

as a matter of fact w e lost noth ing o f anyparticular value . But when I examined the bagsand saw th at the tough English leather hadbeenslashed righ t through with probably one of thoseheavy sharp kn ives that cobblers use , I was ratherglad that I had not been able to lay hands on myarmed friends I They got clean away .

“ Couldn’t they get a clue ? ” asks the Policeman .

“Well,burglaries had been very frequent in

the station,and the pol ice got on to a gang

shortly afterwards wh ich was on a sporting tourfrom a big city about fifty miles away

,and as

the robberies then all ceased,I’

m inclined to th inkour crew belonged to it . Anyhow we thoughtwe were wel l out o f the business

,

” concludes theEngineer , rel ighting h is pipe .

“ They are rather a sporting lot sometimes,

these Indian th ieves,

” says the Bombay Barrister,

after a pause .

“ I remember hearing of a casewhere a h igh officer in the pol ice was deputed toorganise the arrangements for a large fair

,and

on h is way there a train robber got into h isra ilway carriage and s tole all h is money and theclothes he had taken off when he lay down tosleep . I can imagine the scene when the greatoffi cial arrived at h is destination and had toexpla i n the reason o f

"

h is defective wardrobe to

AN EASTERN VOYAGE . 1 2 1

the group of subordinate officials who had respectfully met him on the railway platform !There is a general laugh , and then ,

“ A brotherofficer of mine

,that reminds me

,

” says the Colonel,

“ was staying with a Judge,and one night the

contents of one of h is trunks were stolen , including all h is medals . No trace of the th ieves wasdiscovered

,but some time afterwards he rece ived

back his decorations by post,accompanied by a

vernacular letter expressing regret at the inconvenience which had been caused him ,

and explaining that the th ief employed for the job had

blundered and taken the wrong sahib’s th ings ;the intention having been to punish the Judgefor having given what the correspondent considered to be an unjust decision in some case.The letter was of course anonymous .”

“ A somewhat similar circumstance,oracularly

remarks the J unior Civil ian , “ once occurred tome and a friend in my service . The Lt .

-Governorwas touring in my district

,and we were summoned

to meet h im in camp and invited to dinner . Ourservants had laid out our dress clothes on ourbeds

,and having a short time to spare before

joining the party,we strolled off together to

smoke a cigarette . When we returned , our dressclothes had disappeared. It was an extremelyannoying thing

,for we were na turally anxious

to avail ourselves of the honour o f the invitation , wh ich was , of course , now impossible , and Ibel ieve the incident caused some silly amusement

1 22 THE SILENT INDIA .

among the staff. It was generally consideredthat the theft was due to the enmity of some onewhom we had annoyed in the discharge of ourduties

,andwho had chosen th is unfortunate form

o f revenge . He must have watched us as westrolled out o f the tent and then slipped in andabstracted our clothes .” Good old burglar

,

”sotto

110 0 6, from the delighted Subaltern . )

“ I ’ve had no personal experience of camprobberies , says the Poli ceman presently ,

“ andindeed they are not frequent in my part of thecountry

,but I bel ieve they are pretty bad on the

North -West frontier,and I heard a gruesome

story once from a man who was serving up there .

A couple of subalterns (l ike you,Jim) were out

on a shooting trip,and sleeping in a small bell

tent . The nights are bitterly cold up there inwinter

,and they had let their servants shelter

for the night in a smal l v illage about half a milefrom the camp . It was a notorious part of thecountry for th ieves

,so the subs . left the suspended

lamp burning,and put their rifles under their

beds when they turned in . Both were veryt ired and fell asleep immediately . About threeo ’clock

,one of them woke and at once saw

that the ligh t was out . At the same time heheard a faint rustl ing among the straw underhis bed

,and cautiously putting down h is hand

to h is rifle,fel t i t being slowly drawn away .

Giving a shout to hi s companion,he leapt out

o f bed on the other side,and groped on the

1 24 THE SILENT INDIA .

Perhaps the gang thought tha t if the i r comradefell into the hands o f the authorit ies and was

identified, he might have been induced to givethem a ll away . However

,th is occurred a long

while ago ,and before the force w as reformed

,

”he

added,smiling.

J ust so ,

” remarks the Bombay Barrister dryly.

Horrible ,

” says the Junior Civil ian .

“ Thistakes the cake , says the gasping Subaltern .

“ Ican ’t beat that

,

” laugh s the Colonel,rising. I

m

off to bed . Good—night all .”

Aden— that hot dusty settlement o f which theonly advantage in being quartered there i s that

you steal ten days more leave when you go toEurope — and then the quiet dreamy passageacross the Indian Ocean . Those were halcyondays

,but all good th ings must have an end , and

one bright hot morning we saw the Spires andfactory ch imneys o f Bombay rising apparently out

o f the sea . No magnificent Vi ctoria Terminus ,noble Government Secretariat buildings

,or Splendid

Taj Mahal hotel , then graced the landscape . Wehad very few touri sts

,and no plague

,National

Congress,or unrest .” No kindly light had been

shed by travelling pol iticians upon our Cimmeriandarkness in those unregenerate days . Stil l

,we

did ourselves pretty well— the country was contented— and the rupee was worth one and ninepence .

1 26 THE SILENT INDIA .

marked down or has“ killed with a long l ine

o f elephants ; each with a sportsman and h is rifle ,i n a howdah on h is back . Th is is an exciting butexpens ive arrangement , for an elephant

,as an

American author remarks , i s“a powerful heavy

feeder,

and h is food will cost you at least arupee a -day . Then a small army of beaters hasto be paid ; “ mahouts

,

” who guide the e lephants,

to be t ipped ; and a reward given for every baggedtiger to the head sh ikari (hunter or sportsman )and “ mahout

,

” which will keep them in affluence

for severa l months . The strip of country to bedriven is fenced in

,as it were

,as far as possible

,

by men in trees,who tap the trunks and boughs

gently with sticks to keep the animals frombreaking away at the sides ; and at the end of

the beat are stationed some sportsmen on the irelephants

,to whom the beasts are driven . These

men,as a rule , have the best of the fun . The

plan frequently adopted to determine as to whoare to have these posts , i s to draw from a smallbundle of straws of different lengths the one whodraws the longest to have the first choice of place

,

then the second longest , and so on . The writerwell remembers

,as a youngster , drawing the

longest straw , and promptly electing to be astop to which the game w as to be driven . Butalas ! among the guests of our host was a very“ burra ( important ) sah ib ,

” who had only drawna very short straw . To make a sad story short

,

at our host’s request our positions were inter

CAMP LIFE AND SPORT . 1 27

changed,and sure enough a fine tigress broke

away in front of the favoured guest , who cleanmissed it ! Well , there ough t to be some privileges attached to the process of growing into aburra sah ib . The light-hearted subaltern seldomreal ises how will ingly h is senior officer would oftenchange places with h imA very l ikely place for a tiger in the hotweather is more or less dried-up swampy groundcovered with the long grass known as “ elephantgrass

,

” which often grows to a height of twelvefeet or more . If the wind be moderate in strength

,

and in the right direction , th is is set a l ight in theline taken by the advancing beat . All th ings fleebefore th is wall o f fire , which marches slowly on

with a low roar,accompanied by a rattle of ex

plosions of heated a ir between the j oints of thelong grass and bamboos , as loud as pistol shots .Overhead rolls a black cloud of smoke

,in which

wild - fowl and other birds,startled from their

haunts in the pools,frequently get involved and

fall suffocated to the ground .

Another plan is to tie up a young buffalo , andwhen the tiger has killed it

,to sit up in a

“ machan ” or platform constructed in a tree,

over or near the kill ” ; for the animal will verylikely return to finish the carcase next night— hewill probably not come after th is . Many tigersare got in th is way

,but for the sportsman who

is also someth ing of a natural ist,there i s noth ing

more interesting than to watch at night over a

1 28 THE SILENT INDIA .

water-hole in the forest, when nearly all the restare dried up ,

and round wh ich the “ pugs,

”or

footmarks,of tigers (or panthers ) have been

noticed . You must get up with your rifle intoyour uncomfortable perch well before dusk . Be

h ind you will sit your imperturbable and silentsh ikari

,and you will only know he is there

by gentle nudges at interva ls as h is quick,well

tra ined ear detects sounds of approach ing creaturesquite inaudible to yourself. There is someth ingvery eerie about a forest when wild nature settlesi tself more or less to rest . The “ cicadae ortree -crickets (to whom our cuckoo - Spit insect i sfirst cousin) are noisy with their whirring sounds— caused by an internal organ , and a ltogetherout of proportion to the ir size ; birds have ceasedsinging

,but are wrangl ing about choice of roosting

places ; fruit-eating bats are sail ing over on theirw ay to rob some distant orchards ; an owl groansmournf

'

ully in a tree near by night -j ars commencetheir monotonous cries ; fire -fi ies gleam at in

tervals ; curious weird sounds come from theparched earth as the temperature falls , l ike furn iture - creaks in the night ; l ittle local gusts of

wind disturb the trees here and there ; jackalscome out and presently will wake the j ungles withdiabolical yells and a distant hyaena may add h isstrange unearthly cry. The darkness comes on

quickly,for there is l ittle twil igh t in the East ;

stillness creeps over all , and sounds grow less andless. Your eyes are glued to the water-hole in

1 30 THE SILENT INDIA .

tournament, &c.,&c .

—while old Buddhoo,though

apparently in a sta te of complete menta l abstraction , i s very likely th inking o f the price o f grain

,

and how to get level with h is wi fe ’s cousin abouttha t l i ttle patch o f land he d id h im out o f in somerecent l itigation .

All at once , at some distance , i s a low soundsomething l ike a cough

,and a sti ck snaps off go

any creatures still gathered at the pool,and

Buddhoo’

s huger i s pressed into your ribs. Perhaps ten minutes elapse— the beast is no doubtcrouching and looking cautiously at the waterfrom h is cover

,—when suddenly the t iger is stand

ing over i t straight in front of you ! His nearapproach was absolutely noiseless . The l igh twhere he stands is bad

,and his head a t th i s

distance i s a small object . Steady— the rifle i spoised , and what seems several hours elapse . Yourluck

,however

,i s good

,and he half turns to l isten

to some sound beh ind h im ; showing h is broadstriped side . In a second you have drawn a beadwith the night sight on a spot j ust behind h isshoulder and fired

,—a roar— a yellow fiash— and

he i s gone . You turn with shame and grief toyour “ sh ikari .” But Buddhoo ’

s face i s transfigured

— “ Lagga,zarur lagga ”

(he i s h it , he iscerta inly h it) , he says . Together you descendfrom the machan and cautiously reach the spotwhere the tiger had stood . Yes

,there is blood

a nice pool of blood— and Buddhoo,who has aga in

resumed the expression of'

a graven image,repeats

CAMP LIFE AND SPORT . 1 3 1

Lagga , khub lagga , zarur milega (h it , hard h it ,w e shall certa inly get h im ) .And you probably do so

,but the cover is th ick

,

and a mortally wounded tiger at the point of

death can crack a man ’s skull with a stroke of hi smighty paw

,so you wait til l morning

,and then

procure a small herd of those unsightly and

amphibious brutes,the Indian buffa loes , and

drive them slowly through the j ungle ; for in aband they have l ittle fear of a tiger

,and he rarely

a ttempts to attack them . In a short time yousee them bunch up together

,and you know that

your quarry is near. Your party forms l ine withcocked rifles , and presently you find h im lyingstone dead . You then proceed to measure himtake care that the natives do not steal or burnthe whiskers , for they have great properties , andif you singe them yourself you are not likely tobe haunted by the creature ’s ghost !This is a red- le tter -day incident . It may happen as described

,but the tiger may not come and

you may miss it if i t does . A good skin is a fine

trophy to possess . The writer once knew a man

who had killed two full -grown tigers right and

left from a machan so he had the skins cured ,and presented them to a young lady to whom hewas paying h is addresses . Two days later he proposed — was rej ected — and she kept the skins !He related the incident some years after , and i twas noticed that h is regrets were mostly for thelatter. It i s not given to every man to shoot two

1 32 THE SILENT INDIA .

tigers right and left,and it would have been nice

to have been able to casually point them out onyour floor when you related the incident !If an old Anglo -Indian gets on tiger stories

,he

does not usually stop until the last shred o f h ischaracter for veracity is gone for ever. But at

even this risk one may be told , because i t did not

happen to the writer , and Colonel a distinguished officer of the old type in a non-regulation province

,related the tale , and h is word was

unimpeachable . In some parts of India they drivetowards a low screen of bushes on the ground

,

behind wh ich the sportsman and h is “ sh ikari ”

crouch . Colonel was beh ind such a putwa ,

as it i s called,and the beat

,starting about a mile

away,had just begun

,and in the far distance the

sound of tom -toms, the beating of empty kerosenet ins

,and weird howls

,could be faintly heard . It

was a blazing hot day,and the “

putwa wasclose to a small “ nullah ” or ravine

,in wh ich a

l ittle water still remained . The “ sh ikari ” wasath irst (natives drink an extraordinary amountof fluid) and asked permission to go to the“ nullah ” for a moment ; promising to returnimmedia tely. The request was granted

,but he

had hardly left before an increased noise washeard

,amid which the words “ bagh

,bagh ”

( tiger , tiger) could be recognised , and the Colonelpeered out through the bushes straight in frontof h im with h is rifle ready . Just then he hearda sound beh ind him wh ich he thought was caused

134 THE SILENT INDIA .

going away,and even struck , i t will not , as a rule ,

come back to retal iate— though there are exceptions to th is . The black Himalayan bear is es

pec ially to be treated carefully in th is respect ,and in the hi ll s many l ives have been lost bythe amateur sportsman firing at a beast whenabove h im

,for in such a case he will a lmost

certainly charge,though had he been below when

shot at,he would probably have continued his

course downwards ; al though instances are not

unknown o f h is charging uph ill . The authorwell remembers the body of a poor youngsubaltern being brought in after being foundat the foot of a precipice . The fall had killedh im

, but the cruel marks on his face showedwhere the devil ish claws had struck h im and

pushed him over the cliff to h is fate . The bearwas never found .

A traveller in the h ills is sure to come acrossnatives h ideously disfigured by the teeth andclaws of these animals . Captain A. J . R. Glasfurd

,in h is del ightful book ,

‘Rifle and Romancein the Jungle

,

’ also speaks o f the ferocity andaggressiveness of

'

the bear ( Ursus labiatus) i n theCentra l Provinces

,and h is views entirely coincide

with those of the present writer and other sportsmen with whom he has discussed the subj ect .“ Bhaloo , as he says , i s a vegetarian , and hisnoisy foolish manners and clumsy ga i t exciteamusement

,but he is a dangerous brute

,and

the native never feels for h im the tolerant and

CAMP LIFE AND SPORT . 1 35

even friendly sentiments often thrown over thetiger who keeps to modera te cattle -kill ing.

Accidents in big-game shooting must sometimesoccur even with the most experienced and carefulsportsmen

,but they are frequently due to rank

carelessness or ignorance . The writer remembersonce in h is ea rlier days be ing in a drive with apolice officer and a subaltern in a Bri tish regiment . A bear and her cub passed through someth ick j ungle in front of the latter , who fired; and

an examination o f the spot showed a good dealof blood and a smal l fragment of bone . Despitethe obj ections of the head native “ sh ikari

,

” thetra i l was followed up ,

and very easily,for there

was plenty of “ sign ”

; but presently the j unglegot th icker and th icker

,so that we were at last

compelled to crouch and push our way throughthe thorny bushes and scrub vegetation to followthe wounded beast . Dusk set in , and to theauthor ’s rel ief

,the police officer

,an experienced

man,flatly refused to go any farther . Some

difficulty ensued with the excited subaltern , butwe both held to our decis ion . That night thepolice officer had an attack of heat apoplexy ,which necessita ted our abandoning our expeditionand getting h im back to a settlement. The nat iveskikari

and his men followed up the tra i l withbuffa loes next morning

,and found

,not the bear ,

but her cub,lying dead about ha lf a mile from

where we had given up the pursuit . Had wecome upon her under the circumstances , entangled

1 36 THE SILENT INDIA .

as we were in the brushwood , and in the dusk,

there is l ittle doubt but that the infuriated andunwounded mother would have settled accountswith one or other o f as. It was , of course , afool ish thing to do

,and indeed following up a

wounded beast on foot i s a lways attended withconsiderable risk ; though some men make it apoint of honour to do so

,for fear of the animal ,

i f not k illed,wreaking its vengeance on innocent

and unprotected natives in the vi cin ity .

It is very wonderful how the largest beasts canconcea l themselves and evade any but skilledtrackers

,and the present writer once stalked

“ cheetul (spotted deer) in a small forest in theTarai for several days and saw nothing exceptpugs ” or footprints

,though a few days later a

party driving with a long l ine of elephants put upandkilled five tigers in th is very tract. Of courseth is only refers to the ordinary sportsman . Tothe wild tribes , such as the Bheels and Gonds andother gentlemen of ancient l ineage in CentralIndia

,the j ungle is an open book

,and it is a

revelation to stalk “ sambhur or cheetul withone of them . You start in the grey of very earlydawn with h im

,and when “ sign is found

,he

follows the tra i l l ike a retriever on a strong scent.There are few th ings more interesting than suchan expedition with a good man~-the trouble i s tosee the quarry sufficiently clearly in the th ickj ungle when he brings you up to him .

Apropos o f the way in wh ich big beasts can

1 38 THE SILENT INDIA .

a tiger doomed to fa ilure . An angry written re

monstrance was met wi th silence . The greatman ’s heat w as organised

,and in due course he

sat i n h is “ machan ” to await the driven game .

But wh ile waiting , he became aware of two sets ofnoises— one in front and one to the right . His“ sh ikar i ” w as unable to offer any explanat ion ,and presently

,to h is surprise and violent anger , a

mob of strange beaters,blowing horns and bang

ing tom - toms,marched across in front of h im and

a t right angles to his own bea t Marshall ing theseunwelcome forces

,composed o f h is own employés ,

marched the disappointed planter,enj oying h is

novel and somewhat irregular revenge . Of courseal l the game

,big and small

,were swept away

well out of range to the left o f the big man ’s“ machan .

”A considerable correspondence fol

lowed the incident,and no little amusement was

created . Some held it to be un5portsmanlike ,

o thers— mostly unofficials— sympath ised with theplanter .Although tigers in many local ities are probablyas numerous as ever

,i t i s not so easy to -day for

the obscure individua l to get a chance of kill ingone . District officials

,i t i s wh ispered

,are ex

pected to purvey them when required and Indianprinces

,after their prolonged absences from the ir

states,unselfishly spent acquiring that knowledge

of Western customs and institutions so invaluablefor their subj ects

,feel called upon to show pam

pered beasts to their Engl ish hosts when the latter

CAMP LIFE AND SPORT . 1 39

visit the i r country . Sometimes these hospitablegentlemen are hard put to it to provide the

travell ing “ sahib ” with the sport h is heart

yearns for. There are perhaps no tigers in thevicinity , yet the guest would fain have a tale totell when he returns to the security of thesmoking- room in England . It wil l never do toinform him that his hopes are futile

,so (the

rumour runs) a wizened old sh ikari ” i s sent forand instructions issued

,the result of which is that

the old man may be seen next morning wendinghis way along tracks in the j ungle , slapping theground here and there where it i s clear or soft,with a dry stuffed tiger’s foot

,so as to leave im

pressions i n the soil obvious enough to the mostuneducated eye . In the e vening , the sportman i s

gratifiedwith the intell igence that the tracks of afine la rge tiger have been found

,but tha t

,as the

beast cannot be exactly located, the best plan will

be to stalk i t with the aid of a “ sh ikari and sobring it to bag. The suggestion is received withgreater sat isfaction than i t would be by a moreexperienced Nimrod

,and next morning

,i n the

grey of dawn,the sahib ” sall ies forth armed

with his brand-new rifle and accompanied by hi sguide . It is not very long before the pugs ”

are found,and then the trai l i s followed with

extreme caution and in what the sportsmanregards as absolute silence

,but wh ich would

probably suffice to start any big game with ina quarter of a mile from the spot . The excite

1 40 THE SILENT INDIA .

ment never flags every few yards are unmistakable signs— devious and difficult tracks are troddenand retrodden— the panting sportsman is sometimes pressed to the ground and made to understand by excited gestures to be silent and a lertand occasionally w i th subdued and in tense cautionh is a ttention is directed to a moving bough ortwig

,while the “ sh ikari stops and listens with

rapt interest for a few minutes before proceedingon the dangerous expedition . Thus hours pass andmany miles are traversed . The Sportsman’s nervesare in a state of extreme tension ; perspirationstarts from every pore ; h is clothes are i n rags ,and his legs and arms streaming with blood fromthe passage through the thorny brakes ; until atlast the hunters reach a small stream or riverwhere the venerable impostor clasps his hands

,

and with bended head confesses that the trail i slost ! The amateur tiger -slayer

,not altogether

regretting the termination o f an adventure inwhich he feels that for severa l hours he has carriedhis l ife in h is hands

,returns to his host with some

assumption of regret and annoyance— and for therest o f h is l ife i s i n a position to conscientiouslycurdle the blood of his hearers as he relates hisexperiences over the home fireside .

But if tiger shooting is now difficult to obtain ,there are plenty of other forms of sport left. Of

these,pig - sticking must take first place . The

race up to the pig,the taking of the spear and

the probable charge of the infuriated animal,and

1 42 THE SILENT INDIA .

the charge,so that the writer had to j ump out

o f the way . The first shot in the semi -darknesshad j ust scratched the pig’s side and merelyserved to anger him . Meanwhile the villager haddisappeared

,but after an interva l aga in came upon

the scene to our great rel ief,as the storm hadnow

broken,the l ight had completely fa i led

,and we

could never have found our way out o f the forestwi thout h is guidance . It was an unpleasant ex

perience ,for when we eventual ly reached the open

country,the darkness was so black

,the l ightning

and thunder so vivid and loud , and the wind soh igh

,that the horses were unmanageable from

frigh t,and we were reduced to bandaging their

eyes with our handkerch iefs and leading them thebest part of the w ay home . To add to our discomfort , o n our arrival in camp after blunderingabout in the darkness and wet for severa l miles

,

we found the tents blown down,no dinner

,and

everything in confusion . However,after an hour

or two the tempest cleared ofl’

,and we were able

to repitch the tents and get something to eat .The boar was brought in next morning

,and the

tushes,the longest the writer has ever seen

,now

ornament the chimney-piece and serve as a mementoo f a somewha t chequered afternoon ’s sport !

“ Nylgha i ” (P ortage tragocamelus) and spotteddeer are sometimes ridden with a spear

,and the

writer once nea rly speared a wolf,but the animal

,

when apparently a lmost done , at la st wore downhis horse .

CAMP LIFE AND SPORT . 1 43

Then aga in in Upper India there i s plenty ofsport to be had shooting the black buck (Antelop ebez oarctica ) , for which the use of a soft andexpanding bullet is desirable , so that , in the very probable contingency of a miss

,i t may break up at

once instead of skimming over the country and

possibly finding its billet in the body of an oldwoman working in a high crop , -or the li ttlech inkara ” or ravine deer , by some regarded as

a gazelle,and so called on account of i ts habit of

sneezing when a larmed (a good phonetic word)or “ nylgha i ” (blue cows) in the dhak jungles ,850 .

Various expedients,more or less unsportsman

l ike,are adopted to get with in range of deer and

antelope— such as walking beh ind a country cart,

wrapping oneself up in an old sheet to resemble anative cult ivator , &c . , but there is l ittle use , as a rule ,in trying to sta lk them by means of cover . Thechances are that a real ly wild animal i s seldomapproached by other than expert native sh ikari swithout its knowledge , and often i t is the bestpol icy not to a ttempt concealment

,but merely

pretend to be unconcerned andto stalk it obl iquelyin a l ine well to one side o f i ts si tuation gradua l lyedging towards the quarry while apparently intending to walk past i t at some distance . Thebest chance is with a sol itary buck —the doesa lways give the first alarm . I t i s fatal to lookin its direction

,for an animal always seems to

be watch ing a sportsman ’s head and eyes. The

1 44 THE SILENT INDIA .

author had a friend who was a great “ sh ikari,

and a fine wel l -set-up man , but extremely bald ,and with a head the top of which was certa inly a

bright and shining place . He and a Goorkhaorderly were once stalking ibex in Ladakh , and

were crawling up a hill beyond wh ich the herdwas browsing. The sportsman had thrown off

his sun-hat lest i t should a ttract the attention ofthe game

,and was reach ing the crest of the h ill to

look over,when he felt something placed on h is

head,and taking it off

, found it to be the greasycap of th e Goorkha . Now a h illman wears h iscap for many years

,and , fl inging it down

,he said

in an angry whisper,What the did you put

that beastly th ing on my head for to which theGoorkha , forgetting all h is respect i n the excitement of the sport , equally angri ly replied , Why ?

because only a fool tries to stalk ibex with a headl ike a looking -glass.” The sportsman recognisedthe j ustice o f the observation

,and peace w as at

once restored .

Antelope are not so plentiful as they were .They are often netted , or driven into swampyground in the rainy sea son by the v illagers

,and

as their legs s ink into the soft ground,they are

overtaken and clubbed to dea th or shot . Therei s some th ing to be said in extenuation of thecultivators ’ bloodth irstiness , for no doubt the verylarge herds of these animals take a heavy tollfrom the growing crops .Then there are hares , much smaller than our

1 46 THE SILENT INDIA .

camp without their sharp l ittle barks being heard .

Their cry is not unpleasing , but the same cannotbe sa id of tha t o f the j ackals which rend the airat nigh t with the ir fiendish yells when hunting inpacks for food . They afford good sport beforedogs

,and have the power o f simulating death in

a wonderful way . Once , when a big male j ackalhad been run into and apparently killed

, the bodywas taken from the pack and thrown on the ground ,where it fell l imp and l ifeless as a glove . Abouta quarter of an hour later , a cry was raised as theapparently dead animal cautiously l i fted its head ,got on i ts legs

,and made off amid the furious bark

ing of the dogs , now all t ied up to the tent -pegsclose by !These an imals are sa id to steal roundf villagesat dusk

,and by playing with unsoph isticated

young dogs , to lure them to a sufficient distance ,where the pup ’s fate is speedily decided . Theysuffer from rabies and persons are occasionallybitten by them

,but the great risk is the trans

mission by them of the disease to the Village dogswhich are in constant contact with human beings .A strange incident once occurred to the writerwhen camping in the j ungles . The dogs

,some of

them big powerful hounds,were all tethered to

tent-pegs in a circle one night,when suddenly a

terrific barking arose,a great commotion ensued

,

and, l ights being brough t, a j ackal was found inthe centre o f the circle nearly torn to pieces . Itwas feared that i t was mad

,for a sane j ackal

CAMP LIFE AND SPORT . 1 47

would never have strayed in among the dogs,and

its nose would have saved it even if it had be enbl ind ; but fortunately none of the pack everdeveloped the disease , and the matter remains a

mystery .

Whether i t be due to mere cur1OS 1ty or, asCapta in G lasfurd surmises , to a desire to probethe quali ty of a suspected danger

,wild anima l s

occasionally exh ibi t a want of caution wh ich thepresent writer fiuds it difficult to expla in exceptupon the former theory . Roused once at night i nthe j ungles by a disturbance among the horsestethered under a tree , he looked out of the doorof his tent and saw a leopard stroll ing about thecamp l ike a dog . On another occasion , a herd of“ nylgha i trotted through the encampment atmidday ; and a t another time two wolves cameand stared at h im about a hundred yards ofi" whilehe w as indulging in a whisky - and - soda and acheroot in a long arm-chair j ust outside hi s tent .Ou all these occasions the incidents occurred inout -of-the-way places , and the animals were looking about them with evident interest andcuriosity .

In some parts of the country the wild dogs

(Cyon) , with dark - red coats and th ick brushestipped with black

,are a grea t nu isance , and ,

hunting in packs,do more than anyth ing else

(not excepting th e na tive“ sh ikari ”) to drive the

game away from any loca l ity . Shoot them whenever you can— which will not be often .

Although good sport can some times be had near

1 48 THE SILENT INDIA .

stations , as the European settlements are called ,for all-round shooting the best chance i s when on

tour in camp . Camping in India has been reducedto a fine art. When the cold weath er has set inand the water and moisture left by the ra ins hasdried up

— say about the middle of Novemberthe official whose work takes h im afield gets outh is tents and camp furn iture

,wh ich have been

repaired beforehand,inspects h is string of camels

( the Sanskri t gam-el or humped beast) which

will carry them and h is other impedimenta,sees

to the nags and dogs and the old bamboo cart,

cleans up h is rifle and guns , dons his most comfortable and disreputable clothes

,and starts away

on his tour ; with probably most of h is servantsalong with him. He has two sets of tents— thatis to say

,as soon as he has smoked h is last pipe

and gone to hi s sleeping tent,the one in wh ich he

has spent the day , dined , and done his office work ,as we ll as the kitchen tent and those occupied bythe servants

,will be all pulled down, placed on

the camels,and taken on to the next halting

place— probably ten or twelve miles away . Whenhe wakes in the early morning the camp o f theprevious day has disappeared

,and there i s only

left the tent he has slept in,and another for the

pol ice guard and two or three servants . Thesewill a lso be struck as soon as he quits the spot

,

and transported to the next halting-place ; whereall will be pitched by skilled men appointed solelyfor the purpose . At the end of h is march he will

1 50 THE SILENT INDIA .

the post -ofzfice,and over twelve mill ion telegrams

over the wires,every year ; and much other work

connected with money remittances , parcel insuranoes

,savings banks

,and the sale o f quinine , i s

a l so done . A letter will go safely over road ,railway

,ocean or river

,for three thousand miles

for a halfpenny,a post-card for a farth ing

,and a

short telegraph ic message for fourpence . Bothdepartments are more than self- supporting , and

few arrangements are more appreciated and util isedby all classes o i

'

Indians.To the author’s mind few existences could be

more interesting than th is nomadic l ife . The earlymorning ride or drive

,varied by an occasional shot

at a black buck the stalk ing o f wild geese feedingin the fields ; the inspection of villages , and chatswith the headmen ; the run with the dogs afterthe furt ive j ackal returning from h is night’s prowlthe shooting obtained at small “

jheels or lakes ,often crowded with wild-fowl ; the bright but notfi erce sun overhead

,and the nipping cold breeze

,

all combine to make life really worth l iving . And

then the del ight of the cool tub and the wellearned breakfast I The day passes quickly enoughthere is the othee work , more inspections in theevening , dinner , the final cheroot— perhaps smokedin the Open air over a blazing log-fire

,with one or

two headmen of the village present to talk overmatters they are interested in

,or to re late ta les

and legends of the neighbourhood . How oftenwhen sitting at the fireside in England comes

CAMP LIFE AND SPORT . 1 5 1

back the memory of those nights in camp ! A

l ittle clearing,with tal l trees all round forming

part of the dark and mysterious j ungle— the wh itetents gleaming in the moonlight

,— the camp -fire

over wh ich the sportsman sits wrapped in a th ickcoat (for i t i s very cold at night in winter in UpperIndia) , smoking , reading , and thinking over workand sport . From the left among the trees

,in the

flickering l igh t from many small fi res where themen are cooking their food

,come the cheery laugh

and the sound of patting of unleavened cakes , asthese are placed to be toasted in the i ron platesover the little mud ovens constructed on theground . A short distance off, in the semi -darknessamong the trees

,an occasional neigh indica tes

where the horses are bedded down,tied by the

feet to tent -pegs driven into the soil ; while fromaway to the righ t come th e bubbling of camels ,and perhaps the irritable trumpet of a tetheredelephant. The moon shines down through theclear air— bats flutter overhead— l ittle owls flyfrom tree to tree with noisy screeches — whileone of a larger species keeps up a solemn and

monotonous booting from some dark shelter nearby. Presently

,with a swish ing sound

,a flock of

wild-duck or teal sweeps at a terrific pace overthe encampment ; or a loud and noisy cackling , soclose as to startle the l istener

,denotes the arrival

of some wild geese,which linger awh ile invisible

in the air above the spot , wondering as to themeaning of the strange scene below . At interva ls

1 52 THE SILENT INDIA .

the short sharp barks of the l i ttle foxes in thedistance break the silence

,andvery l ikely suddenly

a chorus of wild howls and shrieks l ike a burst ofmaniacal and deris ive laughter

,from a troop of

jacka ls close up to the camp,rend the a ir— almost

as savage and near as to suggest a sudden attack .

A senior hend usually Opens the concert with aweird

,long-drawn -out-howl

,which is taken up by

the whole pack in varying cadences . Jackals ,though useful scavengers

,are a grea t nuisance ,

but not ha lf such pests as the half-wild villagedogs

,which steal round your tent in the dusk l ike

shadows and loot your dinner from the table outside— j ust as i t i s about to be brought in by yourenraged domestic ! They think noth ing of carrying off a leg of mutton or a sirloin of beef— th ingsnot easily replaced in the j ungle .People go to bed early in camp , and somewhere

about ha l f-past nine the chances are that the tiredofficial is l istening from among the blankets to thetap -tapping of the mallets on the pegs as the daytents are pulled down to go on to the next camp ,until he fa lls

,amid the protesting roars of the

laden camels,into a well - earned and dreamless

sleep . A free and hea lthy l ife unfettered by socialobligations and restrictions— gone for the writer ,alas ! never to return .

There i s very l ittle game -preserving in India ;comparatively few villagers hold licences to shoot ;one i s practically free to go where one l ikes ; andthe rural areas in the Upper Provinces are dotted

1 54 THE SILENT INDIA .

h imself in a local ity where the scanty vegetationand the presence of the ca lcareous conglomerateknown as kunkur

,

” used for metall ing the roads ,indicates the vicini ty of ravines running down toa r i ver. The country roads—nothing more thandeep - rutted tracks — wind about the div ersifiedface of the land

,connecting the l ittle raised and

wooded villages with one another at distancesof a few miles .Al though the cattle are grazing on the plains ,

and the landscape is enl ivened by the numerousspots o f colour produced by the red and bluegarments of the peasant women working in thefields and the bronze figures o f the men as theyguide the oxen in the plough or l ift the w aterfrom the wells

,still the wild animals and birds

seem l ittle affected by their presence , and thegeneral impression is that they are very l ittleinterfered with

,— which indeed is the case. Good

caste Hindus generally are opposed to taking'

life,

and with Muhammadans and lower castes of

Hindus among the poorer classes,apart from the

difficulty of getting l icences , there i s th e questionof the expense of weapons , powder , and shot ; sotha t they confine their sporting efforts mostly tothe slaughter o f big edible victims such as ante10 pes or— in the case of very low -caste Hindusthe wild pig . If we except the water-fowl on thelakes and rivers

,there is very l ittle game visible

when once the sun is fully up the antelope and deerwill be in the h igh crops or the sugar-cane brakes

CAMP LIFE AND SPORT . 1 5 5

from early morning unti l the evening ; the hare sand partridges are crouching in thorny bushes orother cover where they are secure from the swoopof the kites ; the qua i l are in the high grass ; theblue pigeons in the trees

'

or in the cool depth sof a disused well in the fields ; and birds l ike thebeautiful “ hariyal or green pigeon

,with its

del icate plumage o f French grey and greenishyellow, are concealed in such trees as the fig orbanyan

,with the fol iage of which their colouring

closely blends . It is only in the very earlymorning that one can fully real ise how teemingwith animal l ife the country really is .This i s the general aspect of the great fertilearea known as the Doab— the land of the tworivers— lying between the Ganges and Jumna .

Farther east,the vegetation becomes much more

luxuriant,until

,in the steamy climate of Benga l ,

vast fields of rice and groups of palm -trees are themost prominent features . To the north lie theex tensive forests and j ungles of the Tarai at thefoot of the Himalayas and to the west

,the dusty

but productive province o f the Punjab with aclimate presenting great extremes o f heat and

cold,reach ing up to the river Indus . The whole of

the country between thi s r iver on the west , and

the Ganges and the Brahmapootra on the east , i spractically one great fertile pla in . It supports animmense population

,and is the ri chest , most

populous , and most h istorically famous part of

India . The giant Himalayan range fences it in

1 5 6 THE SILENT INDIA .

on the north while the V indhya mountains boundit on the south ,

and divide i t off from the greatraised plateau of the Deccan and Southern Indiagenerally .

Many an enj oyable day i s spent on the largep ieces of water

,often o f many acres i n extent ,

known as jheels fringed with reeds and swamps ,and in the deeper portions of which the lotus l ilyand other aquati c plants grow luxuriantly

,and

th ickly enough to support the handsome j acanas

( iWetop idius indicus) running over their broadleaves

,uttering plaintive cries

,and making short

fl ights at intervals with their long legs hangingdown in an absurd fash ion— and upon the openSpaces of which immense quantities o f wild - fowlrest and feed . Around the edges many specimensof the Gruidae

,or crane - tribe

,stalk and gobble

up unhappy frogs , &c. Cranes and storks (whichthe Muhammadans say do the pilgrimage toMecca) are numerous in Upper India , and one

often sees in the fields the large and beautifulSarus crane (Grus antz

gone) with its red headand neck ; nearly always with its mate , andfrequently accompanied by the young birds of thelast nest ing season . It builds a large structureof weeds in shallow water

,and covers up the two

very pale bluish -green eggs with a few reddishspots , whenever it leaves the nest . It is not shot.Then there are the Common crane

, or“ kulang ”

(Grus cinerea ) , and the Demoiselle crane (Anthro

p oides virgo) —very wary birds , more commonly

CAMP LIFE AND SPORT . 1 57

seen on pla ins or in the fields. The “ kulangare generally in large flocks and have a pecu liarfl igh t ; circl ing round at a great h e ight utteringrather pleasing cries , and their movements givethe impression that they are about to al ight

,

whereas the circles move farther and fartheraway

,the birds still remaining at the same

height in the air . They are not bad eating .

Cranes , l ike geese and certa in other birds,regu

larly post sentinels to warn the flock of danger ;and in an old book in the writer ’s possession it i sgravely stated that the bird on sentry duty (whoi s cal led the “ Captain ”

) stands on one leg withthe other raised grasping a stone

,so that

,should

he fal l asleep,the latter falling will wake h im up !

Various egrets,herons

,plovers

,terns

,&c .

,a lso

frequent the margin of the j heel , and sometimesone may see a long l ine of pelican s regularlyquartering a shallow portion of the lake andswallowing up the small fish as they march along

,

to the disgust and annoyance of the local fishermen . Like a white island

,well in the centre of

the “ j heel,

” i s gathered a great collection (whatold writers cal led a “ gaggling ”

) of wild geese ;mostly greylags (Amer cinemas) , or barred geese

(Anser indicus) . There is l ittle hope of stalkingthese they will rise at the first shot

,and will all

be off with much noise to some sandbank in theriver

,though it is sometimes possible to intercept

them in their fl ight . The best time to get them isin the very early morning

,when they are stil l in

1 5 8 THE SILENT INDIA .

the helds— for they are nigh t feeders— and especi

a l ly in crops of young gram (Cicer a rietinum) .A good plan is to get as near as possible to themby sta lking , and as soon as the sentry sounds thewarning honk

,to throw off all disguise and run

stra igh t at them . The astonish ed birds will oftenturn and stare for a few seconds at th is unexpectedform of attack and then take wing

,but being

heavy birds they cannot rise from the ground veryquickly

,and with fa ir luck the sportsman can often

get in a righ t and left of BB . shot with excel lenteffect . The writer remembers hearing the s toryo f a sportsman dropping a goose into a river andthen paddl ing after i t in a canoe to retrieve it.

When a lmost upon the wounded bird flutteringon the surface , a huge black sl imy head rosesuddenly above the water there w as a vision of al ittle green eye , two rows o f jagged teeth , a stencho f fetid breath , and the goose was gone ! No timewas lost in returning to the shore . It was a“ mugger

,

the snub-nosed crocodile (C’rocodi lus

p a lustris) . Many rivers are full of these brutes ,and also the gavial or fish - eating species . Theformer often carry off women , and even men , atthe bath ing - places

,and al though the latter are

said to feed wholly on fish,still they are suspect

,

for bangles and ornaments are sometimes found inthe ir stomachs . Both species are common obj ectson the banks o f the rivers

,look ing like great logs

of wood on the sand , sometimes twenty feet inlength . They are true crocodiles— there are no

1 60 THE SILENT INDIA .

exactly what will happen . The banks disappear,

and the flood spreads perhaps over miles ofcountry on e i ther s ide of the bed . In 1 879 atraveller on the Oudh and Roh ilkhand ra ilwayl ine

,between Bare illy and Lucknow

,looked over

a sheet of water seeming to stretch to the Himalayas

,many miles to the north . Vi llage sites

were converted into l ittle i slands for since whena mud hut tumbles down the new structure isbuilt 0 11 the fa llen debris, the effect in processo f t ime i s that these sites become considerablyra ised above the surrounding country . To theseelevated spots of dry earth all animals tied forsafety ; and the local i ty swarmed with snakes

,

many of a venomous kind,which also infested the

railway embankment and clung to the brancheso f trees standing in the water . Boats rescuingthe people who had escaped into such refugeshad to be careful how they approached them . A

l ittle v illage must have presented a strange sightwhere wild and timid animals crowded close totheir natural enemies — los ing the i r innate fearof man in the presence o f a greater danger. An

awful epidemic o f malarial fever followed thesefloods.

Then , large r ivers , especially the Ganges and

Indus,are a lways changing the ir courses

,as if

with mal ignant purpose ; one year deserting acity

,to the great inj ury of the inhabitants and

the despair o f the engineers controll ing the supplyo f drinking-water to the people , and in another

CAMP LIFE AND SPORT . 1 6 1

suddenly becoming directed upon a centre o f

population,cutting into the banks and bringing

down rows of houses , temples , &c .,in ruins into

the stream . Aga in , there i s someth ing uncannyin the nature of the inhabitants— porpoises

,croco

diles,strange fish and crustacea

,grea t water tor

toises (genera l ly miscalled &c. Woebetide the wretched anima l caught in a quicksandon their banks ; i t is torn to pieces while stillalive — especia lly by the h ideous tortoi ses

,snap

ping out grea t pieces of - flesh with the i r ch iseledged beaks . Add to th is the frequent spectacleof corpses floating down the stream ,

for the bodiesof ch ildren and fakirs , i f not buried, are alwaysthrown into the river ; and where cremation i scarried out

,the process is often imperfect and

consists of l ittle more than s ingeing the rema ins .The Indian crows (Corvus culmina tus and Corvussp lendens) always mark the position of these gruesome objects— sitting on the shoulders and carefully avoiding making a hole in the chest

,as th is

would result in the letting in o f water into thecavity and the consequent sinking of the th ing.

Muhammadans,as i s of course well known

,bury

their dead,— placing the deceased in a sitting

posture in the grave to respectfully receive therecording angels Munker and Nakir

,and building

a platform of masonry,planks or sticks

,above the

body,to support the superincumbent earth when

the grave i s filled in . This platform usuallydecays and collapses after a time

,so that the

1 62 THE SILENT INDIA .

position of such a grave is marked by a depressionin the ground ; but in some cases they dig thegrave

,and then scoop out a l ittle alcove to one

side to receive the corpse planking this up beforefilling in the excavation itself. This plan is farbetter from a public h ea l th point of view

,but it

is not general ly adopted . In some parts of thecountry a repulsive practice formerly prevailedamong the Hindus

,of burying the bodies of

persons who had died of cholera,smallpox

,and

other infectious diseases,for about a year

,and

then exhuming them for cremation ; but th is hasnow to a great extent been stopped .

To return , however , to a pleasanter subj ect andone more suitable to a chapter on sport . Themost usual ducks met with on the

jheels”

are the Shoveller (Sp a tula clyp ea ta ) , not muchgood for eating ; the Ma llard (Anas boschas) , notvery common ; the Spotted - bil l (Ana s pwci lofrhynca ) ; the Gadwall ( Chaulelasmus sti 'epe

frus) ;

the Pinta i l (Dafi la a cute ) the Widgeon (M areca

P enelop e) ; the Common and Blue - winged orGargeney Teals (Que

frquedula crecca and cirota )the Pochards (Branta rufi na and Aythya ferina ) ,terrible birds to retrieve on account of their diving powers ; the Whistling Teal (Denolrocygna

awsuree) ; the White -eyed Duck (Aythia nyroca ) ,&c . Round the edges of the water in the reedswill be found the l i ttle Goose Teal (Nettap us

coromandelianus) , which nests in holes in trees ;and an occasional bittern

,the favourite quarry of

1 64 THE SILENT INDIA .

ch ief archi tect the latter suggested that th isshould be opposi te the Empress ’s mausoleum

,on

the other bank o f'

the Jumna . But the Emperor,

enraged,dismissed the suggestion with the re

mark ,

“ Am I a Chukwa ,that I should rema in

on the other side o f the river ?

When the young sportsman comes for the firsttime to the banks o f one o f these “

jheels” and

sees the great concourse of birds upon it , visionsof immense bags rise before h im . But althoughsometimes such dreams are rea l ised

,they more

often are not,for in the first place he will probably

not get close enough for a shot into the mass,and

if he does,the whole community Spl its up at the

first report of h is weapon , and are not l ikely tobe approached with in gun - shot again . Very fewAnglo -Indian sportsmen are pot -hunters , or usepunt guns

,and native “ shikaris trust mostly to

nets for the capture of the birds . The usualplan is to obta i n two “ dug-outs (trees roughlyhollowed out) and then to lash a native stringbedstead across them ; as s ingly they are toocrank

,and the spor tsman wil l probably hnd h im

self sooner or later in the w ater . You sit onth is bedstead and

,if you are wise , a well -filled

luncheon -basket w i ll be there too . Two nativeboatmen w i ll be perched on the stern , squatting0 11 their heels in an at titude seldom acquired byEuropeans , and will pole or paddle the strangecraft where it i s desired to go . Working roundthe edges of the reeds on the margin of the

CAMP LIFE AND SPORT . 1 6 5

j hee l offers the best chance o f sport,as duck

and teal rise out o f these in l i ttle bunches and

often afford good shooting ; but for a really largepiece o f water

,there should be several sportsmen

afloat,and i f these be distributed all over the lake ,

the birds are kept constantly on the move and ,ge tting flurried

,fly now and again with in range .

At the first shot fired,there is usual ly a great

noise as the wild - fowl rise , and the water on whichthey have been sitting appears to be whipped intofoam . This , however , i s general ly not due to therising o f the ducks

,or only partially so ,

and theeffect i s mostly produced by the fl ight of the un

ga inly Bald Coots (Fulz'

ca a tra ) , of which thereare pretty sure to be great numbers paddlingabout in a funny j erking manner among the wildfowl . These birds seldom fly high or far, and areso cumbersome that they only get on the wing bybeating the surface of the water several times withthei r feet before they rise properly into the air.They are useless for eating

,though some often get

shot accidentally among the duck and yoursh ikaris andgrooms will be very glad to havethem , as the i r tastes in such matters are by nomeans fa stidious . The Purple Coot

,which re

j oices in the name of P orp hyri o p oliocep ha lus, i s ahandsome bird and sometimes met with .

Once the duck and teal are on the wing,they

will probably travel up and down the j heel insmal l parties

,or sometimes s ingly

,and then is the

Opportunity for making a bag but each time you

1 6 6 THE SILENT INDIA .

shoot they will probably get higher and higher,

andwill presently fade out o f sight as they abandon the spot for some other less disturbed piece ofwa ter in the neighbourhood . Still

,before th is

happens,with fa i r luck and sk ill

,you should have

many times heard the welcome whack ”as a bird

crumples up and fa ll s splash into the water.The pace at which duck and teal can travelwhen really alarmed is astounding. It i s sa idthat the wild duck is the quickest bird tha t fl ies

,

but , size for size , the teal is probably the faster ofthe two . You have to allow a good deal for thesebirds coming across you — or, for the matter of

that , in all cases —and probably for one missed byfiring too much in front, half a dozen are missedby firing beh ind them . Very pretty shooting canbe had “ fl ighting

” j ust before dusk when thebirds come in to feed during the nigh t. It doesnot last long , but wh ile i t does , excellent sport

(and often a go of fever can be obtained .

It wants some skill to obtain a really good bagon these “

jheels, very many birds getting awaywounded . The Brahminy Kite (H a liocstuf

r i ndus)i s pretty sure to put in an appearance on theseoccasions

,as he knows very well about these

wounded birds , and will swoop down upon themand carry them off from their h iding-places in thereeds in wh ich , from hi s vantage -ground in theair, he can readily see them . His Hindu name i sGaruda

,and in pre -Ka l iyuga days he acted as a

steed forV i shnu , and also— strange combination

1 68 THE SILENT INDIA .

clutches of big carnivorous beasts,even with ex

tensive injuries,tell us tha t the grip was rather

numbing than pa inful . Of course there is thereaction later on— dangerous enough . The writerhas known a heater se ized by a tiger , get up ,

and,

beyond a few scra tches,appear uninj ured— and

yet presently die from simple shock .

Almost always there will be a corner of thej heel ” where the swampy nature of the groundtempts the snipe to rest and feed . Good bags canoften be made

,but the wading in cold water with

the hot sun on the head is dangerous work,as

numerous sportsmen have learnt to their cost,and

many a serious attack of fever or dysentery maybe traced to th is cause ; assisted perhaps by aninfected Anopheles mosquito. One can never bequite sure where snipe will be . One year a placewill swarm with them , and next year there will benone ; and indeed the same place in the sameseason will vary immensely— probably due to therise and fal l of the water covering or uncoveringsome favourite form of food . Of course there aresome places , as the old bed of a river , and swampyground probably fed by springs

,where they are

always to be found .

Perhaps in connection w ith what is said above,a

few words may be mentioned here as to maintaining health in India . The most important th ing ismoderat ion in both eating and drinking ; and inone j ust as much as in the other . Indeed , in thesedays

,probably more men eat too much than drink

CAMP LIFE AND SPORT . 1 69

too much . Plenty of exercise should be taken ;cases of sunstroke are really uncommon in India ,if proper precautions are observed . A l ittle foodshould always be taken before going out afterrising , and over - exertion and long rides in theearly morning in the hot weather are to be avoided .

Flannel should always be worn . Doubtless theimproved standard of health in the tropics i slargely due to wiser habits and grea ter temperance , but very great importance , in the writer

’sopinion , i s to be attached to the modern plan ofsubstituting woollen garments for the old - fash ionedstarched wh ite drill and similar materials . Nextto cholera and malarial fever

,probably the greatest

risk to health arises from “ ch ill . What theexact process is

,i s hard to define ,

but everyexperienced Anglo-Indian knows the danger ofsudden suppression of perspiration

,and the Vital

depression wh ich follows it. Congestion of theinternal organs

,especia lly the l iver

,i s readily set

up , and this i s never to be neglected in the East .Medical Boards examine candidates for servicein India

,and rej ect all those who are physically

unfit . But it has always appeared to the author ,that what we want principally to know is j ustwhat , at present

,no such examination can posi

tively tell us. We wan t to know whether thecandidate i s constitutionally immune

,or unusually

predisposed,to the diseases of the cl imate . Take ,

for instance,that great curse of the country

malaria . Some persons go through the whole o f

1 70 THE SILENT INDIA .

thei r service practically without an attack offever

,

” while others are constantly suffering fromit. The physique of the individual seems to havel ittle to do with the matte r . And so i t i s withcholera and certain other diseases . In time , nodoubt

,we sha l l learn how these people differ in

their i ntimate constitutions and sha l l pass or rej ectthem accordingly

,but at present only actua l ex

perience would seem to show whether the candidate will stand ” India or not .

Possibly presently we may come to employ as adiagnostic method what is known as humanosero -therapy a new and attra ctive science ,

but not ,in our present state of knowledge

,apparently

,with

out some conceivable disadvantages . A correspondent in a medical j ournal j estingly writes thathe can quite clearly imagine that fifty years henceone of h is descendants might have some such taleas th is to te l l : “ In 1 92 1 I caught measles ; mydoctor

,who had foreseen what was about to hap

pen and had had himself innocula ted a few weeksearl ier

,inj ected me with 25 c om. of his own serum ,

and with in a fortn ight I was cured ; but in 1 922 astrange th ing happened . We were both attackedby typhoid fever at the same time . The serum ofa hospita l nurse who was convalescent from thed isease saved our l ives

,however

,and we recovered

after an illness lasting about sixty days . Now weare all three sufi

'

ering from chronic rheumatism ,

andare looking out for some person who has beencured of that disorder to try and catch a fourth

1 72 THE SILENT INDIA .

speare (several times convi cted , as we prefer tobelieve

, of deer - steal ing in Sir Thomas Lucy ’swoods) knew the feeling well :

Now, my co-mates and bro thers in ex i le ,Hath no t o l d custom made th i s l ife m ore sweetThan that of pain ted pomp 2 Are not these woodsMore free from peri l than the env ious cou r t ?H ere feel we but the penal ty of Adam ,The seasons ’ differen ce

,as the i cy fang

A nd chur l ish ch id ing of the w inter ’s w ind,

Wh ich,when i t bites and blow s upon my body

,

Even ti l l I shr in k w ith co ld , I smi le and sayTh is 1s no flattery : these are coun sel lorsThat feel ingly persuade me what I am.

Sweet are the uses of ad vers i ty,

Wh i ch , l ike the toad , ugly and venomous ,Wears yet a precious jewel in h i s head :And th is ou r l ife exempt from public hauntFind s tongues in trees , book s i n the running brooks ,Sermons in stones

,and good in ev eryth ing .

A V ILLAG E T RAG EDY.

BOODHOO, son of Puttoo, belonged to a caste ofwhich the vicissi tudes of occupation a lmost rivalledthose of the needy crowd which accompaniedWill iam of Normandy to Britain . Originallyswineherds

,the decrease in the number of swine

,

and other causes , presently rendered th is employment unremunerative and uncerta in— when themembers o f the tribe quite naturally turned to thestudy and pract ice of petty larceny as a career .Discouraged in the pursuit of th is by the authorities

,some of the abler and more enl ightened men

adopted the safer , if less interesting , role o f in

former ; but th is innovation was soon found to beinconvenient to all parties

,and a system was

gradually evolved which has persisted to thepresen t time . The caste d ivided itself into twoparties— the robbers , and the protectors , of pro

perty . This div ision of labour , which otherwisemight have led to friction

,was rendered feasible

and satisfactory by a tribal understanding . Theless enterprising thieves took service as watchmen

1 74 THE SILENT INDIA .

binding themselves to take no concern with thedoing of the i r caste -fel lows

,so long as the latter

abstained from abstracting the property of theiremployers

,—and the agreement

,wh ich perhaps

lacked in some of the elements of strict moral ity,

was hono urably observed , and may possibly beregarded as an improvement 0 11 the older systemo f setting a th ief to ca tch a th ief.Boodhoo w as of an unadventurous dispos ition

,

chiefly confining h imself to manual labour , theconsumption o f food and tobacco

,and the celebra

t ion o f an occasional orgy andpreferred the moreregular mode of l i fe . He accepted the creed andcustoms of h is caste as a matter o f course

,and in

fulness of time found himself the guardian of thepublic peace and property in his V illage

,on a

stipend of fiv e sh illings a month , a suit of bluej ean

,and h is pickings .” Moderate as th i s re

muneration must be regarded , even al lowing acerta in latitude as to the va lue o f the last -namedsource of income

,perhaps the size and importance

of h is charge hardly justified the bestowal of ah igher salary . The hamle t consisted of but sometwenty or th irty mud huts with thatched roofsand l ittle courtyards

,clustered together on a

sl ightly elevated site under a group of tall umbrageous trees , such as the

“ neem,

” “ mohwa,

tamarind,

&c. The somewhat larger dwell ingof the headman , and the Hindu shrine in chargeof the attendant priest under the sacred fig-tree

,

were the only structures of the least pretension .

1 76 THE SILENT INDIA .

the larger landlords in the vicin ity in the ir sparetime . Two or three miles away was a largervillage where a weekly fa i r was he ld

,and where

the few necessary articles not procurable locallycould usua lly be obta ined .

In th is Oriental m icrocosm,under conditions

a lmost primeval in character,was Boodhoo ’

s lot

cast . Like Topsy,he “ growed ”

; struggl ing toman ’s estate in satisfied ignorance of requirementswh ich he had never been called upon to envy thepossession of i n others

,and sprawling through

early l i fe i n a s tate of nature with other bantl ingssimilarly s ituated , and equally happy in the enj oyment of the society o f cattle

,vagrant dogs

,sacred

monkeys,and comparatively elevated older mem

bers o f his own race . He had of course taken toh imself a wi fe and,

equally naturally, had a considerable family . Undisturbed by the wars ofnations

,the stri fe of factions

,the pursui t of such

fantastic studies as those of science , l iterature , andart

,he led a thriftless simple l ife with much con

tentment . Births and deaths occurred in hi sfamily— grain was sometimes dear— the pol iceofli cials were too often offic ious and rude - themoney-lender grasping and troublesome— but therewere many compensations . No one bothered himmuch ; his wife , Ma ik i

,i f homely in appearance

and shrill i n tongue,was nevertheless industrious

and care ful about his home , h is ch ildren , and hisfood . Probably h is greatest trials were when hewas summoned to give evidence in cases in the

A VILLAGE TRAGEDY . 1 77

magistrate sah ibs court . O11 these occasionshe exh ibited no indications of possessing any formof intell igence , and regularly received with greathumility

,indifference and rel ief

,h is summary dis

missa l from the witness -box as a fool . His ordinary duties were not arduous . As darkness set in ,

he armed h imself with a long iron -shod pole andpromenaded the v illage all night— emitting atintervals weird shrieks and howls to determarauders from nefarious attempts upon the

goods and persons of the i nhabitants . His clericalfunctions consisted in the retention of two sticksupon one of wh ich he cut nicks to represent thebirths

,andupon the other to represent the death s ,

which occurred in the commun i ty . The Government required him a lso to give the dates of theseincidents and the causes of death

,but in the

absence of any form of education or the faintestglimmering o f medical knowledge , the informationfurnished by h im to the authorities on these points ,when he visited the pol ice station , was not illuminating, and was necessarily lacking in variety andaccuracy . His most usual diagnosis w as feverin different parts of the body— occasionally rel ievedby certain h igher fl ights of fancy such as “

re

fused mother ’s milk ,” “ body dri ed up , &c .

Upon the whole , however , as has been said ,Boodhoo and h is wife l ived a simple , degraded ,and contented life , sharing with his neighbours aregrettable tendency to obscurantism ; until anincident befell wh ich had far reach ing con

M

1 78 THE SILENT INDIA.

sequences. Jeewan,Ma iki

s brother , l ived in a

village a few miles off , and close to a spot wherethe European artillery went for practice . It hadhappened on a recent occasion , soon after thebattery had gone away , that Jeewan had pickedup a shell which had failed to explode

,and being

of an un inquiring nature , had placed it on a firewith a view to melting it and applying the metalto other purposes . Presently there was noJeewan . He was childless ; but what was tobe done for his young widow ? She came fromsome distance off

, and had only her uncle andaunt al ive . A le tter to them met with no reply

,

and when Boodhoo h imself went to their village,

he found that these relatives had disappearedsuddenly on a date which corresponded closelywith the one upon wh ich h is letter would havebeen rece ive d by them , and had left no information whatever as to their new address . So therewas nothing for i t but to bring Seeta

,the widow

,

to l ive with Maiki and her husband .

At first all went well . Seeta was young , pretty ,brigh t and active . Maiki found it a great comfortto be able to ventilate her views upon the conductand doings of her neighbours before a readylistener — Boodhoo being indifferent and un

sympathetic upon such subj ects . The dailygrinding of the corn was much more easily performed ; work generally was made lighter and itwas Seeta who hauled out the youngest but fourch ild when he fell into the village pond and was

1 80 THE SILENT INDIA .

time . However , after th is inc ident a distinct improvement occurred , and Ma iki

s manner becamecheerful and even affectionate towards her brother’swidow . Boodhoo put it down to the salutaryefib ct of the correction he had administered .

In his official capacity as village watchman , i twas necessary for h im to visi t at stated intervalsthe police station some twenty miles away

,to

make his report and exh ibi t h is valuable records ;and he set out on one of these expeditions a shorttime after the events described . The start wasunpropitious

,for a j ackal ran across h is path as he

left h is hut and noth ing but Government orderswould have induced him to pursue h is j ourneyunder the circumstances . But absence meant afine and the pleas of h is sudden and severe i llness

,

or the totally unexpected death of a near relative ,hadbeen urged too often to make i t probable thatit would be accepted at headquarters so amid thewailings o f h is household he set forth . It wasSeptember

,and the weather being comparatively

cool,he made the j ourney by day , sleeping that

night,by permission

,in the verandah o f the pol ice

station . Ou the following morning he underwentthe ordeal of the inspection of h is returns

,and

having rece ived h is customary allowance of repri

mand and abuse,was at l iberty to return to h is

v illage,and consequently wended his way back

that n igh t in company with some of h is friendswho l ived in hamlets on the route . The sun wasup when he saw the little clump of tamarinds and

A VILLAGE TRAGEDY . 1 8 1

other trees beneath which the peaceful v illagenestled

,and he hurried his steps to reach his

home , influenced by several considerations amongwhich hunger was probably the most important .At th is hour Maiki and Seeta should have beenbustl ing about the place

,sweeping the l i ttle space

in front of the hut or performing other duties,and

a sense of foreboding seized him when he saw noone moving , and the purdah

,or curtain

,i n the

doorway,tightly closed . Pushing his way i nto

his dwelling,he was greeted by Maiki

,who

,start

ing up , gave a shriek and immediately threwherself prone on the ground . From her cries andlamentations he could learn li ttle beyond the factthat someth ing had happened to Seeta pearlamong women

,

” “ heart of my heart,

”&c.

—butfrom the villagers who had now gathered roundattracted by the noise

,he learnt th e sad facts .

On the prev ious night , i t seemed , the girl had leftthe hut to fetch a li ttle fuel from the heap nearby ; had called out and rushed back into thedwelling

,pointed to her foot

,and fainted . Maiki ,

looking at the spot indica ted,had seen at once the

marks of the fangs of a snake,andhad rushed dis

tracted across the fields in the moonl ight to aneighbouring village where there was a smalldispensary

, and implored the “ doctor baboo ” tocome at once . Apparently th is official was in nogreat haste , and when they together reached thehut, poor l ittle Seeta lay dead and cold. She hadbeen bitten no doubt

,the doctor baboo sa id , by

1 82 THE SILENT INDIA .

a “ ka la samp or cobra . All th is was relatedsubmissively

,for is not every one ’s fate written on

h is forehead (or rath er in the sutures of the skull ) ,and is not the kala samp ” an object of worshipand so not lightly to be offended ? Then , in themorning

, the constables had come , and the bodyhad been removed by low-caste people 0 11 a bier tothe dispensary for examination .

This was all. Boodhoo received the news insilence and dismissed his friends . He made noinquiries of Maiki— lying with dishevelled hair onthe ground

,and rending the air with her hysterical

lamentations— but went out,wa shed at the well ,

cleaned h is teeth with a smal l piece of wood , saidhis prayers

,put on clean clothes

,and walked to

the li ttle dead—house attached to the dispensary .

Eight annas j udiciously bestowed,procured h im a

glance at poor Seeta lying in her coarse sh roud.

He said nothing , nor offered to touch the corpse ,but going quietly out

,went to h is work in the

fields until the evening,when he returned to his

hut. His wife,now a l ittle calmer

,had prepared

h is food , but he pushed it away , and after smokingin silence for an hour or so

,lay down on his string

bedstead anddrew his blanket completely over h ishead andbody . Then Maiki

,cautiously l ifting her

eyes from where she crouched in a corner of thedwelling

,saw the blanket heaving as it was not

wont to heave , and , as she watched the movement ,the hunted scared look left her face and wasreplaced by one of almost contented satisfaction .

1 84 THE SILENT INDIA .

corded the fact finally that Musammat Seeta ofMuddunpore had died of

“ snake - bite .” ButLandon screwed up his l ips when he read theentry “ stomach contained partial ly digested foodand some white

,gritty substance

,and he threw

the document across to Marshall with the inquiryas to whether he knew anyth ing about the case .The la tter read it , whistled , and immediately sentan orderly to summon the Inspector who hadrece ived the police report . What they heardabout Boodhoo ’

s ménage confirmed a suspicionwhich had at once occurred to them both , and

a mounted orderly was sent out to bring in thebottle with i ts gruesome contents ; and on itsreceipt it was immediately sealed and forwardedto the Government Chemical Analyst.In a few days h is report arr ived . The gritty

substance ” was arsenic in quantity sufficient topoison several people and Boodhoo and his wifewere promptly arrested . The case was tried bythe magistrate

,and excited little interest . Bood

hoo , with unexpected intelligence , refused theoffer of the services of

,

a half—starved nativelawyer whose only apparent means o f subsistencewas by blackma il ing Indian gentlemen throughthe medium of a vernacular newspaper to whosecolumns

,for a small consideration

,the scribe had

access— and both he and his wife were undefended .

He pleaded innocence with a demeanour which atonce aroused grave suspicion as to h is guilt

,but

A VILLAGE TRAGEDY . 1 8 5

Maiki,looking down to the ground w ith

'

her shaw ldrawn over her head

,sa id

,

“ I did it , and continned

,

“ This man (indicating her husband , butnot looking in his direction )

“ knows noth ingabout it. He was away . Seeta had taken himfrom me

,and I killed her. I put arsenic in her

f'

ood , 1 and when she died I made the marks in herfoot wh ich the doctor baboo ’

saw ,with a large

thorn . My little son (the shawl shook here) diedof snake-bite

,and I knew how the marks looked .

No one else had anyth ing to do with it.

”Formal

evidence was then given by the witnesses , andMaiki was committed to the Sessions where shereceived sentence of a long term of imprisonment ,while undergoing which she died .

Boodhoo,after listening to some severe com

ments from the magistrate on h is conduct , whichbeing del ivered in Hindustani he unfortunatelyfa iled to understand

,was acquitted and being set

free , sat down under a tree in the vicin ity of thecourt

,cooked his food

,smoked his “ hookah ,

” andpresently wended his way back to his village. I t

i s regrettable to have to add that he there re

ce iv ed considerable sympathy in his misfortunes .

But after some months he one day left the villagewith h is ch ildren

,without resigning h is appoint

ment , and is bel ieved to have taken service as alabourer on a railway embankment then under

1 P o i sons were then much more easily purchased andprocured thanthey are now.

1 86 THE SILENT INDIA .

construction in a distant part of the country.

And so he too passes out of th is story ; which hasthe unusual meri t of being true . When once onegets down to the bed rock , human nature is verymuch the same in all races .

1 8 8 THE SILENT INDIA .

and hurries on to wash the steps of the temples atholy Kash i (Benares) and to cleanse away the sinso f countless worsh ippers on her hallowed course tothe sea .

Hardwar,to visi t wh ich is the cherish ed desire

of all good Hindus,i s s ituated at the end of a

long,elevated valley

,the lovely district of the

Dun , enclosed by an outer range of mountains ,the S iwaliks

,and the lower slopes of the Hima

laya s . Immediately behind the l ittle settlementitself are low h ills ; while in front flows the deepand rapid river

,sparkling and brigh t as i t came

from its distant source . The portion of the townwhich l ies along the bank of th is consists entirelyof stone shrines and temples , the stately residencesof great Hindu chiefs

,and dharmsa la s, or rest

houses , the headquarters of the various mendicantreligious sects . About half-way along the riverfront is the bath ing-place , the sacred pool calledHari -ki-pairi in reference to the origin of thestream from the foot o f Vishnu . This is the goalo f the pilgrims who come in their hundreds of

thousands from all parts of India every year to becleansed from sin and all impuri ties

,and here it i s

that , when life is past , the Hindu would have h isashes left after being gathered from the funeralpyre . There is a subtle charm about the spot

,

quite apart from its re l igious associations , whichappeals to the most Ph il istine mind Nature smilesin her solemn grandeur — a fi tting place for theworsh ip of the Preserver.

1 90 THE SILENT INDIA .

About a mile below Hardwar i s the picturesquel ittle town of Kankhal— now ,

alas ! sadly marredin its beauty by the erosive action of the riverwhere there are other large and imposing dharmsa las ; and to the west again is Bhimgoda ,

asacred shrine and pool , the wash ing in whichshould be inctuded in the programme of all orthodox pilgrims— especially women .

The town itself, apart from its strangely beautiful si tuation and its long facade of stately buildings on the river bank , presents few obj ects o f

interest,and

,with th e exception of certain shrines

and rest-houses,consists mostly of shops for the

supply of food,cooking vessels

,cloths

,rosaries

,

&c. , and of the lodging-houses for the accommodation of pilgrims . It possesses railway and pol icestations

,a l i ttle hosp ital , and bungalows for

district officials, canal engineers , and Vis itors . Of

course,the great centre i s th e sacred pool .

Formerly a dirty collection of water,more or less

circulating in a recess scooped out of the bank bythe action of the river, and approached by steepand narrow stone stairs upon wh ich numbers ofpeople were frequently crushed to death

,i t i s now

,

by the assistance of Government , converted intoa broad pool through wh ich the pure water of thestream is led in a constantly changing current

,to

which access is obtained by a high broad flight ofsha l low stone steps , and from whence an exit hasbeen formed by the construction o f a wide pavedplatform along the bank between th e river and the

A RELIGIOUS FAIR . 1 91

houses . Standing near the centre of the wateris a l ittle stone shrine upon whi ch the engineershave affixed a. board marked with numerals toindicate the heigh t of the river , and wh ich isfrequently made obeisance to by the simplevillagers under the impression tha t i t i s one of

the numerous obj ects of veneration with which thelocality abounds. A l ight iron bridge thrownacross the front of the pool , safeguards the bathersfrom being swept into mid-stream , and is utilisedfor controll ing purposes by officials. The waterswarms with great mahseer— the Indian salmon ,

so called from its game characteristics , but reallya hill carp

,the B arbus Tor— which are regularly

fed by the pilgrims to the spot . Custom has madethem quite fearless

,and they take absolutely no

notice of the bathers ; push ing their way throughthem with perfect equanimity . A handful ofgrain thrown into the water will bring them together in an a lmost solid mass

,all tumbling over

one another,and among them are many o f huge

size . At Muttra , another Very sacred bath ingplace

,water tortoises (Trionycc) are similarly fed

by devotees .The l ittle town is in a constant state o f bustle.Crowds of monkeys infest the neighbourhood ;sacred bulls wander about the thoroughfares ;temple bells are constantly ringing ; a steady flowof dripping bathers is hurrying along faquirs squatunder great mat umbrellas by the roadside ; andvarious monstrosit ies

,such as cows with super

1 92 THE SILENT INDIA .

fluons legs hanging from their backs or necks ,are exh ibited by their owners for alms or gifts , inthe streets and thoroughfares all round . On theoutskirts are various minor but holy shrines ; whilescattered about the site i tself, and notably in thevicin ity o f one temple and bath ing-place

,are l ittle

unpretending monuments in masonry . They bearno names and are all now o f considerable age

,for

they were erected in past times in honour o f

widows who had performed suttee. The rite hadno t actua l ly been carried out here

,but the ashes

of the vict im had been brought and bestowed inthe sacred river and the l ittle structure raised toher memory. They are very numerous

,and it is

impossible to View them,with a recognition of

their import,without reflecting upon the awful

tragedies to which they bear silent witness . Roughslabs of stone , upon which a rude figure of a womanis depicted , are not infrequently to be seen in outof-the -way parts of India , and these probably usuallydenote the actual sites where the immolations tookplace . The practi ce o f suttee was abolished byGovernment in 1 829. The Abbé Dubois

,writing

in 1 8 1 6 ,has given us a graph ic and distressing

description of one o f these gruesome ceremon ies.By day and night the pool i tself is thronged

with bathers , worsh ipping according to an establishedr i tual while the edges are crowded with theBrahman pandas

,

” who minister to their rel igiouswants

,impart information regarding births

,deaths

,

marriages,descents , relationsh ips , and other family

1 94 THE SILENT INDIA .

i n their hands — a proceeding which , curiouslyenough

,appears to excite 11 0 feeling o f disapproval

among the people . Here are the manly S ikhs andJats with their splendid physique ; the Hinduresidents of the Punjab ; the sturdy Rajput fromCentra l India ; the Mahrattas and inhabitants ofthe Deccan

,whose forefathers collected chouth (one

quarter of the revenue) with some rudeness fromthe ancestors of certa in modern Indian poli ticians ;the Hillmen ; the portly and sleek Bengali ; andthe general population from the Upper Provinces

,

Roh ilkhandand Oudh . They are all more or lessworsh ippers of the Hindu Triad , the TrimurtiBrahma

,V ishnu

,and Shiva : the Creator

,Pre

server , and Destroyer ,— and you may know thefollowers o f the second by the mark of a trident

,

and those of Shiva by the horizontal l ine,on their

foreheads .What are the tenets of the religion wh ich has

brought th is vast concourse o f people here toworsh ip ? Simple as the question seems

,i t i s in

reality very hard to answer. Hinduism is probably the most eclecti c form of belief in the world .

It has largely absorbed Animism,worsted Budd

hism,and emerged almost unscathed from the

a ttacks o f'

fanatical Muhammadanism . The termHindu includes the semi - savage of the j unglesstil l partially cl inging to the worsh ip of naturegods and forest deities , through various gradationsup to the refined Vedantist of towns and cities .There have been great sch isms

,and there are

A RELIGIOUS FAIR. 1 95

several to-day , but astute toleration i s the watchword of its leaders , and th is expla ins its prominentposition among the faith s of the land

,and at the

same time renders i t so difficult to strictly defineits essentials . But i t may be permissible to makea few general observations on the subj ect .When Brahma the Creator resolved to create

the world,he assumed the Visible form of Vi shnu .

At this time the whole earth was covered withwater , on which V ishnu floated sleeping on a bedwhich rested on a serpent .” From his body spranga lotus

,from wh ich i ssued Brahma who created

the great island continents . The god V i shnu isthe type of all that i s best in Hinduism

,and h is

worshippers number amongst them most of thosewho strive to throw off all the impurit ies and extravagances wh ich have crept into the faith . Shiva

,

the Mahadeo or God Omnipotent , is, as Mr

Sherring in h is‘Western Tibet ’ truly says , a

grim god,with whose worsh ip

,and that of his

consort Kali,i s associated most of what is cruel ,

brutal,or obscene . Brahma has compara tively

few votaries,for

,having created the world and

stocked it,he is considered to take l ittle concern

with the management of it ; he is too remote andabstract an influence for popular worsh ip . It isV i shnu who constantly reappears on earth— eitherin human or animal shape- interposing decis ivelyat some great emergency. The belief in theseAvatars , descents or reappearances of V i shnu ,constitutes one of the most essential and effect ive

1 96 THE SILENT INDIA .

doctrines of Hinduism,and it is thus that most of

the famous saints,heroes

,and demigods of romance

are recognised as having been the sensible manifestations o f the Preserver . Shiva

, or S iva , re

presents,as S ir Alfred Lyall says

,the impression

of endless and pitiless change . “ He i s the destroyer and rebu ilder of various forms o f l ife , hehas charge of the whole circle of animated creation ,the incessant round o f birth and death in wh ich allnature eternally revolves.But whatever may be their particular rel igious

predilections,all orthodox Hindus recognise certain

books as of divine authority especially the Vedas ,the Institutes of Menu , and the Faranas . Thefirst are o f great antiquity , written in a very oldform of

"

Sanskrit , and deal with rel igion andph ilosophy . They are attributed to the inspiredVyasa and other o

'ishz'

s or patriarcha l sages,

“ themind-born sons of Brahma , and date from about1 5 00 B C. The Vedas proper are four in number ,of which the Rig-Veda i s the most important

,and

bears internal evidence of be ing the original . It isthe great fount from which is derived the knowledge of the old and most genuine forms of theinsti tutions

,religious and civil , o f the Hindus

,

and is probably the oldest surv iving record in theworld . The doctrines inculcated in these booksmuch resemble those taught in Babylon

,what

Humboldt found in Mexico,and what the Saxons

brought to England . The five great cardinalduties enj oined to be performed daily are : study

198 THE SILENT INDIA .

from the Insti tutes of Menu , reputed to havebeen compiled somewhere about the twelfth century before Christ . Menu , the reputed son or

grandson of Brahma,to whom the latter made

his revelation,i s considered by many to correspond

with Adam,and is claimed by Hindus as their

patriarchal ruler and legislator , the primeval sageand progenitor of mankind . The sage Vrihaspeti

says i n hi s law tract ' “ Menu held the first rankamong legislators because he had expressed in h iscode the whole sense of the Veda ; that is , no codewas approved which contradicted h im that theShastras (annotat ions on sacred works ) retainsplendour only so long as Menu , who taught theway to j ust wea l th

,to virtue , and to final happi

ness,was not seen in competition with them .

Much change took place before the appearanceof the Faranas

,eighteen in number

,the sacred

books bel ieved by many to have been written bythe authors of the Vedas but evidence seems toshow that they were compiled at various and com

paratively recent periods , and probably none aremore than a thousand years old. They record theach ievements of gods and heroes and repeat mucho f what is contained in the great epics , theM aha bhara ta and the Ramayana . Space doesnot permit of a lengthy reference to these lastnamed works , but it is certa in that some acquaintance with them is necessary to enable the dwelleror traveller in India to understand the sentimentsof the people towards their most popular deities .

A RELIGIOUS FAIR. 199

The Mahabhara ta i s the history of “the Great

War (Ill aha Bhara t) between two branches of a

reigning dynasty in the misty past which der ivedits l ineage from the moon . The drama Opens withthe appearance of Pandu and Dhritarashtra

,who

are contending for the possession of Hastinapura ,

a territory to the north -east o f Delh i , wh ich stillretains the ancient designation . The family of

Pandu consists of fi ve sons , Yudishth ira ,Bhima

,

andArjuna by one wife,P ritha ; and Nakula and

Sahadeva by another , Madri . Dhri tarashtra hasa very numerous progeny

, of whom Dungodhanai s the eldest o f a hundred sons . An importantdifference between the two famil ies is that thewives of Pandu appear to have bestowed theirfavours upon certain o f the great gods , so thattheir fiv e sons are of superhuman origin . ThusYudishthira was the son of Dharma , the god ofj ustice ; Bhima of Vayu , the god of wind Arjunof Indra

,the god of the firmament ; while Nakula

and Sahadeva were twin sons of the sun . Thesedivinities are held to correspond with Pluto

,

o lus,Jupiter

,and the Dioscuri (Castor and

Pollux ) of Roman mythology .

1

Pandu ( the Pale) , the elder of the two brothers ,i s suspected

,on account of h is pallor , of possessing

the seeds of leprosy , which would incapacitate h imfrom reigning

,and

,being voluntarily set aside ,

retires to a retreat in the Himalayas,where he

dies . His companions then take the sons to their1 Nolan’s Bri ti sh Empire in Ind ia.

200 THE SILENT INDIA .

uncle,who receives them under hi s guardiansh ip

but the action arouses the violent anger andhatred o f h is own sons

,who endeavour to

destroy their cousins by setting fire to thedwell ing of P ritha and her three boys , who areall bel ieved to have perished in the flames.

Escaping,however

,by a subterranean passage ,

they flee into the forests and assume the garband mode o f l i fe of Brahmans. While in theirretreat the sons hear of the unrivalled beautyand perfections of the daughter ofDraupadi , kingo f the upper portion of the country between theGanges and Jumna

,who

,at a ceremonial rite

called Swayambara ,is to select a husband from

a congregation of suitors . The brothers , in aspiri t of

'

knight - errantry,repair to her father’s

court,w 1n the fair prize

,and then

,their ach ieve

ments and success being bruited over all the land ,are sent for by Dhritarashtra the ir uncle , whomakes them j oint heirs to the sovereignty withh is own sons .We now see the young Pandava princes

Yudishthira and his brethren ruling over alarge tract of country of which the capita lwas Indraprasthra ,

and a part o f the royal cityof Delh i still bears th is name . They carry thei rconquests far and wide

,and presently Yudishthira

in h is pride resolves to celebrate the Raj a Suj asolemnity ; a sacrifice where princes officiated i nthe most menial posts and made presents inacknowledgment of submission . In the course

202 THE SILENT INDIA .

rival in vividness and varie ty the recitals of the‘ Il iad .

Yudishthira ,having vanquished all h is foes and

surmounted all h is difficulties, becomes the victimo f regret and lament for the past , and havingabdica ted h is kingdom

,sets out with his attached

brothers and moth er for the nursery o f h is racethe holy mounta in Meru in the Himalayas . On

the j ourney,the avenger of former misdeeds visi ts

the members of the l ittle party and each in suc

cessi on drops dead by the way,until when Indra

comes to convey them to Swarga,h is heaven , only

Yudishthira and his fa i thful dog , who has fol lowedhim from h is capital

,are left . He decl ines to

accept Indra’s favour unless h is dog he alsoadmitted.

The poet follows the heroes into the realm of

shades , but here we must leave them . It willstrike the reader that almost every aspect of

romantic fancy with which we are famil iar , inclassic legend and in recent times , i s included inth is wonderful and venerable epic . The theoryof solar myths probably largely affords theexplanation o f th is fact .The Ramayana

,

a still older poem , relates thedeeds of Rama

,whose identity has been estab

lished the great conqueror and del iverer of theworld from tyrants . His l ife was a mix ture ofascetic devotion and active warfare

,and h is con

quests extended even to Lanka,or Ceylon . The

k ing o f that island,a ten - headed giant called

A RELIGIOUS FAIR . 203

Ravana,had stolen away Sita

,Rama’s wife

,and

the story of her rescue i s narrated in every Hinduhousehold . Rama was greatly assisted in his ex

pedition by Hanuman , the monkey god especiallyin effecting the crossing from the mainland bymeans of a bridge formed of grea t bouldersdropped into the sea . When the bridge was

ready , so the legend runs , all creatures werewarned off it ; but the li ttle grey squirrel , as

impudent apparently then as he i s to - day , disobeyed the command and h id in a cleft amongthe stones

,with the result that he was branded

in three l ines upon h is back by the foot of the

god as he passed over , and h is posteri ty carrythe marks to th is day . Rama ’s end was unhappyfor having slain h is brother Luchman

,the com

panion of his dangers and triumphs , he committedsuicide from remorse . He was deifi ed

,and he and

his ally Hanuman are among the most prominentgods now worsh ipped in India .

The most serious riva l and opponent to Brahmanic cosmogony and bel ief was Buddhism . Thisrel igion , founded by Sakya Muni , or GautamaBuddha

,as contained in the Buddhist gospel ,

appears to have been a protest against the priestlytyranny

,ritualism

,and caste privileges incul

cated i n these rel igious works for i t bade eachman be “ a light to h imself.” For long the twocreeds contested for supremacy ; but eventua l ly ,somewhere about the twelfth century , Brahmanismtriumphed and Buddhism was driven out. It is

204 THE SILENT INDIA .

still , however, the religion of Burmah and thenorthern Himalayan tracts .The origin o f the S ikh religion , again , was also

a revol t against the tyranny of priesthood , ceremonial

,and caste exclusiveness , and was fostered

by oppression into a great warl ike movement .Baba Nanuk

,the fi rst of the Gurus

,or priestly

leaders , w as born in the Punj ab in 1 409. He wasa gentle

,tolerant teacher

,who held that a man

could obtain eternal happiness without forsakingh is ordinary worldly duties . He taught thatthere was but one Lord and One way , andfor him there was

“ no Hindu and no Muham

madan .

”He refused to don the sacrificial thread

of the former,saying to the Brahman priest ,

Make mercy thy cotton,contentment thy thread ,

continence i ts knot,and truth its twist. The

Sikh scriptures are contained in the sacred bookknown as the Granth Sah ib . The fi fth Guru insuccession was Arjan

,who was done to death by

the Muhammadans . Much persecution of the

sect was practised,and presently the enraged

people rose,and under Guru Govind Singh bitterly

avenged their woes . Caste was abol ished , theword “ S ingh

,or l ion

,adopted by all

,so that

no man was inferior to another ; and all maleadults were initiated as soldiers . Every Sikh wasbound to carry steel in some form about his person ,to wear blue clothes

,allow the hair and heard to

grow and never to cl ip or remove the hair fromany part of h is body

,and was forbidden to smoke

206 THE SILENT INDIA.

the British flag . They numbered at thelast census .

It i s a curious and interesting scene , this bath ingat Hardwar

,and with the clear blue sky above ,

the bright,swift-fiow ing river in the foreground ,

and the maj estic mountains towering beh ind andstretch ing to the snows beyond

,one not l ikely to

be readily forgotten .

Although pilgrims visi t Hardwar all the yearround

,still there are certain great festivals and

days when i t is particularly expedient for theorthodox believer to be here and bathe. Somet imes astrologers and Brahman sages discoverconjunctions of planets which should be markedby special religious Observances

,and thereby bring

great and unexpected worry and anxiety on theofficials responsible for the proper conduct of proceedings ; but usually the grea t day falls aboutthe second week i n April

,and is determined by

the phases of the moon . According to Chaucer ,th is was the favourite time in past days forpilgrimages in England .

When that Apr i l le w i th h is showres swootThe drought of Marche has p ierced to the root

,

And bathed every veyn in suche l icour,From wh ich vertu engendered i s the flour

,

When Zephirus eek w ith h i s swete breethEnspired bath in every ho lte and heethThe tendre croppes , and the yonge sonneHath in the Ram h is half course runne

,

And smale fow les maken melodie,That slepen al the night w ith open eye,

A RELIGIOUS FAIR . 207

So pricketh them natu re in thei r corages 3Thenne longen fo lk to go on pilgrimagesAnd palmers for to seaken strange s trandes,To distan t saintes , known in sondry landes .

Once in twelve years occurs the Kumbh,and the

occasion is particularly propit ious,and so in a

lesser degree i s the Adh-Kumbh,which occurs

every six years . For such a gathering very specialarrangements have to be made , for suddenly fromall quarters of the land some five or six hundredthousand persons will gather together and concentrate upon one small spot - the sacred Hariki -pa iri , the bath ing-pool ; especially as not onlyis the day

,but approximately the hour , fixed, when

it i s most conducive to the soul ’s benefit to plungeinto the water. Of course , all cannot bathe at thesame moment ; still , the rush at such a time isterrible

,and it can ea si ly be imagined what a risk

attaches to the collection of these enormous anddissimilar concourses of men

,women

,and children

— exhausted,excited

,and mostly quite strange to

the loca l ity . The district otfi cer, or h is represen

tativ e ,has been days or weeks on the spot mak

ing arrangements ; canal officers watch the river ;engineers run up temporary pontoon bridges connecting the ma inland with a long island oppositethe pool

,for this area will presently be black with

people camping in l ittle reed huts,and thronged

with an immense crowd of the religious mendicants known as Ba iragis. Then the pol ice comein great force and erect barriers on the roads

208 THE SILENT INDIA .

leading to the bath ing-place,so that the people

may be marshalled in detachments to their goaland be thereby prevented from hustl ing andcrush ing each other with serious and even fatalconsequences ; and rai lway ofii cers come down towatch and control the traffic , and arrange forthe arrival and departure of the numerous andcrowded special tra ins .In past times the h istory of the great Hardwar

fa irs was,to use the words of one of the writer ’s

predecessors “ a record of disease and death .

Not only were accidents numerous and fatal,but

the awful scourge of cholera w as seldom absentfor th is is the season o f the year for its appearance

,and when the disease was once introduced i t

spread like a conflagration . Then the frightenedpeople fled to their homes

,carrying the seeds and

scattering disease all over the land,and leaving

a long trail of corpses in their tracks. In 1 8 79

i t w as est imated that not less than personsperished in th is way .

Many persons Vis i ting Hardwar travel on intothe hill s to visi t th e shrines of Badrinath andKedarnath

,and when cholera breaks out at the

fa i rs , there i s an enormous risk o f the diseasebeing carried there . But in olden days the hillman had h is own system . To pass into Garhwalen route to the shrines , a rapid and deep river hadto be crossed

,and before the iron bridge was

built,th is could only be done by means of a repe

bridge known as a fi nale, or swing , which consists

2 10 THE SILENT INDIA .

A prominent feature of the large fairs at Hardwar , as in a lesser degree at Allahabad , Benares ,Aj udhya

,Gya

,Puri

,and certain other locali ties ,

i s th e great gathering of religious ascetics andmendicants known as j ogis, sanyasis, gosa ins,

sadhus , fa quirs, &c. ,— many of them attended by

their chela s, or d isciples . They are seen at ordinary times wandering alone

,or in very small

parties,all over the country ; but perhaps i t is

not generally recognised that most of them arebanded together in great brotherhoods

,with

defin ite leaders who control the collection andexpenditure of considerable wealth belonging tothe community

,and who possess great personal

influence and authori ty with their followers . Thewriter has known many of these leaders

, or

mahunts, long and fa irly intimately , and has , asa rule

,been struck with their intell igence and

force of character . At Hardwar the clans aremostly those found in the Punjab

,such as the

Nirban is,”Nirmulas,

”Udasis

,

”&c. All these

more important akharas (the word seems to beused to describe both the clans and their ga thering - places) have definite headquarters in largedharmsa las and encampments , where they receivefree rations and hold discussions . Bairagis appearto have l i ttle organisation .

Although to-day these religious ascetics andmendicants are of all castes , the custom of thusabandoning the world and l iving upon charity isof great antiquity in India , and , indeed , goes back

A RELIGIOUS FAIR. 2 1 1

to those remote times when the Brahman DesertPhilosophers

,Vanaprasthas and Sanyasis , were

held in such esteem and veneration that grea tWestern leaders of thought and action did not

disdain to seek them out and learn wisdom fromthem. Among these , indeed , were such men as

Pythagoras,Lycurgus

,and Alexander the Great .

Ancient writers,Strabo

,Megasthenes, Arrian

,

pupil of Epictetus , and others , speak of theBrachmans

” as a tribe or caste divided intotwo classes “ Brachmans by descent

,and

‘ German ians by election . The latter were onlyelected after very careful examination

,and the

code of both was originally very high and pure .The three guiding principles were reverence of theDivine Being obedience to the laws and a heartyconcern for the welfare of the society and love ofl iberty and the obligations they were under tosacrifice their own particular happiness to the preserving of the form of government under wh ichthey l ived in its full vigour , i n order to preservethereby the security and we lfare of their posterity .

They taught the doctrine of metempsychosis,im

agining that in proportion as men heightened ordepressed their animal faculties in th is l ife

,they

should fare in the next ; tha t is to say, such as

gratified their passions passing into beasts , andsuch as cultivated the virtues of the mind risingby degrees through the several classes of mankinduntil in the end they merited an entire freedomfrom body , and were rece ived into the company of

2 12 THE SILENT INDIA .

angels . Authors who speak of them as gymnoSOphists are but part ial ly correct , for th ey only wentnaked when in seclusion ; thei r public functionswere always performed in robes . They usuallyconfined themselves to one form of learning ; thusone would be a philosopher , another would devoteh imself to the laws , 850 . After spending thirtyseven years in the ministry they were allowed toquit it, and to l ive the remainder of their l ives i ntowns

,to eat the flesh of wild beasts

,and to marry

as many wives as they l iked to perpetuate the raceof Brachmans, though they were not to reveal anyof the secrets of their philosophy to them , becausethere was great reason to doubt whether theywould be discreet enough to conceal what theywere taught , and , secondly , there was no lessdoubt whether th is accession o f knowledge mightnot incl ine them to pride and disobedience .” Theyenj oyed the support and respect of all , and whenthe inconveniences of oldage began to weigh themdown

,they ordered a pile of wood to be erected ,

and then , dressed in their best garments and singing hymns

,they laid themselves down on their

faces and presently remained there still and quiet ,without so much as a groan

,until

,fire being set to

the pyre , they were consumed to ashes .The German ians

,the second or elected class

,

were also known as Gioghis or J ogis. They appear to have been as good and wise as the Brachmans by descent , but they did not enjoy the sameprivileges as the latter

,for they could never marry

2 1 4 THE SILENT INDIA .

Many hold that the Brahmans to -day are'

the

people most opposed to British rule in India ;dreading that thei r position

,still very great , i s

being undermined andmay presently be destroyed .

But they need have very little fear of th is for along time to come . Hindus

,and especially Brah

mans,have under all dy nasties had a great deal to

do with the government of the country and heldthe highest positions ; though often under thesupervision of the ruling power , as was the casewith Todar Mul and others under Akbar . Theyare

,of course , no longer sole ly priests , but the

caste— and it is imposs ible to dissociate caste fromHinduism— is st ill un iversally regarded as a th ingapart , and its members as someth ing more thanordinary men . They are , as a rule , proud , and of

a pessimistic temperament , as is fitting to any one

l iving in the KaZi -yuga— that direful age and era

of decadence,when l ife is short

,falsehood and

deceit have replaced truth,and when the great

gods no longer strive together in the land .

To bathe at the sacred pool,the several brother

hoods proceed in great processions,and if two such

o f different clans collide , there i s trouble , and inpast years such occurrences led to much bloodshedso that now the magistrate confers with the leadersand appoints definite and separate times for eachto march . It i s a wonderful sight to stand on thel ight iron bridge already referred to at the pool

,

and to watch the approach of one of these process ions . As soon as the barrier is raised in the

A RELIGIOUS FAIR. 2 1 5

street above , they march on in thousands,in some

sort of formation , with numerous rich and costlysilk flags and banners flying,

to the weird howls,

blasts , and screeches of couches and long quaintlycurved trumpets and horns

,and the clattering of

sticks together,until the broad and lofty steps are

packed with devotees and fanatics— many starknaked . In front and in the centre , in a palanquinrichly canopied

,are borne the obj ects of worship

a copy of the Granth , images of the gods , or

balls of ashes— and on each side a lofty standardis raised . Arrived at the margin of the water ,the palanquin is advanced into the pool and thestandards slowly lowered in absolute silence . At

th is moment the most stoical observer cannot fa i lto feel a thrill of excitement. The instant theytouch the water i t i s as if pandemonium had brokenloose . With shouts and cries of rel igious import ,the whole wild crowd rushes into the water , andthe pool becomes a mass of frantically excitedhumanity. It is a strange

,barbaric scene , and

one cannot fail to recognise that here the veneero f civil isation is very th in . Introduce a fewmangled corpses and eliminate the Europeanstaff

,and it probably affords a very fa i r pre

sentment of what a great bath ing was five

hundred years ago .

Presently horns and trumpets are sounded, andthe first rush troops out of the pool and takes itsway along the paved roadway leading to thebridge over the r iver ; to be succeeded by crowd

2 1 6 THE SILENT INDIA .

after crowd until all have washed their sins away .

And then the procession reforms , and , with strangesounds and waving of flags , and headed by theleaders on elephants

,returns to its encampment .

The writer has often watched and ponderedover these great gatherings of i t inerant asceticsand rel igious mendicants— strange

,wild person

ages, with hair (often false ) coiled up h igh on

the ir heads ; curiously distorted sticks , long ironpincers

,or black begging-bowls of coco-de-mefr

,

in

their hands ; often covered with dust and ashes ,and with no other raiment than a scanty waistcloth . Here is a man recl ining on a wooden frameful l of large iron nails pointing upwards and passi ng into h is flesh ; here is another with upliftedarm shrunken from disuse to the size o f

'

a stick andanchylosed at the sh oulder-j oint ; here is a faquirwho has vowed never to sit or l i e down for elevenyears and who takes h is sleep hanging on to apadded rope suspended from a tree . No doubtthere are some unmitigated rascals ; many othersare rank impostors ; but , still , the maj ority areprobably more or less sincere . Often when talkingto them the writer has been interrupted by arespectful correction ( though the faquir never“ salaams couched in excellent Engl ish from aweird figure , more or less attired , who has thrownup a posit ion o f considerable emolument and re

spectability in furtherance of a religious vow. One

such personage , with hardly anything on to coverh is nakedness and with long hair hanging down

2 1 8 THE SILENT INDIA .

from place to place,invading the privacy o f dwell

ings where few other people can hnd admittance ,and they are the repositories of great secrets.There are comparatively few telegraph or telephone posts in the rural tracts of India , but whata marvellous agency for the circulation of newsand propaganda such a community may

,i f

"

organised , become ! The system is simple . The wordis passed to a man

,Tell th is in secret to five true

bel ievers each of these passes i t on to five more ,andso on , so that information spreads in an everwidening circle. These men claim to have ab

stracted themselves from all worldly th ings ,among which

,i t i s imagined

,pol itics are included ;

stillThe writer is of Opin ion that it i s most important that officials should keep in touch withthe leaders of rel igious thought— and this is anelastic term . They very frequently will not bepersons of much pretension , and the disreputablelooking figure s itting at the bath ing - ghat , andreceiving alms with apparent indifference andcomplete mental abstraction

,may be a man of

very great weight in the community. But thewise official knoweth these th ings

,and attendeth

thereto. We have had some emergencies in UpperIndia in recent times— plague

,pestilence

,famine ,

and unrest and those called upon to deal withthem have learnt many facts .Nowadays the conditions of p ilgrimage to thegreat bath ing fairs have much altered . To begin

A RELIGIOUS FAIR. 2 19

with,a great many people obj ect to any form of

control over their actions,and the effect is that ,

whereas probably j ust as many persons bathe atthe sacred spots as formerly

,the concourses at the

great fa irs themselves are somewhat smal ler andthe attendance is spread more regularly over thewhole year . This

,from a publ ic health point

of view,is an advantage . And considerable im

portance i s to be attached to the greater ease andcomfort with wh ich pilgrims can now travel to andfrom such ga therings . Bacteriologists tell us thatsome animals , normal ly immune to certain pathogenic or disease germs

,are rendered susceptible by

being shaken up and otherwise frightened anddisturbed. The writer holds the view ,

even as asanitary officer, that in the greater comfort andsecuri ty which pilgrims now enj oy lies the explanation of much of the immunity from epidemicdisease which has mercifully attended these greatbath ings in late years .When

,after some days are past

,

“ the fa ir i s over ,the people return by rail

,in carts

,or on foot , to

their homes,singing religious hymns and bearing

most of them bottles of Ganges water enclosed inwicker - baskets and suspended at either end ofbamboo poles swinging on their shoulders . Theauthor has seen large quantities of th is water ,quite clean and pure

,stored in metal vessels in the

cellars of a Hindu prince in Southern India , andwas assured that i t had been there for years

,for ,

i t is averred , the contents of the holy river never

220 THE SILENT INDIA .

putrefy . And,indeed

,such water

,taken perhaps

from a source at far-ofi'

Gangootri , probably contains l i ttle or no organic matter.Fairs , such as the one i t has been attemptedto describe

,occur al l over India . They are

primarily the occasion of rel igious Observances ;but they are a good deal more even than this .There is not a Hindu house or but of which theinmates do not look forward with eager interestto j oin ing in these gatherings . Children ’s agesare often reckoned from a kumbh. Here one

combines an act of merit with excitement andpleasure here the ashes of the cherished deadare bestowed as they would have wished— herethe business i s transacted with the semi-rel igiousrecorder of domesti c incidents— here old friendsare met

,new sights seen , and all i s excitement ,

hustle,and rel igious enthusiasm . There i s

no action which could be taken by Governmentwh ich would produce the same dismay and resentment as their proh ibit ion . The part of the State

,

as is well recognised,i s not to interfere unduly

,

but merely to watch over and protect the people

gathered here from inj ury , disease , and— incidentally— from one another.

A P A I N FUL MEMORY.

I THINK i t i s Calverley who sings

— the grow ing ages stealThe memory of pas t wrongs from us,

and certainly i t is the case that when the oldAnglo - Indian calls to mind the occasions andcircumstances under wh ich he has been victimisedin India

,the curious mixture of artifice and

simplici ty,astuteness and stupidity

,exhibited by

the wrong-doers in the course of the proceedings ,he remembers introduced such a humorous elementinto most of such transactions that their recollection i s fraught with no bitterness

,but rather

amusement. Indeed th is attitude of mind isacquired long before one leaves the country. Youfind no difficulty somehow in welcoming the old

bearer when he comes at intervals to pay hissalaams ” after having retired to a comfortable hutand patch of land the purchase price of which youknow perfectly well came out of your pockets

,and

during the gradual collection of which you have

222 THE SILENT INDIA .

for years expressed to him your candid convictionthat he is a th ief. Nor do you feel any excessiveindignation when

,being called upon

,at the request

of the prisoner,to vouch for the honesty and good

character of your “ khidmutgar,or table-servant

(arrested for some frolic in the bazaar) , you findh im in the hands of the local pol ice— and wearingone of your best sh irts ! Rather

,i f you are a

righteous man,you merely rej oice tha t you never

summarily dismissed the washerman to whoseVi llany

,according to the captive

,i ts disappear

ance when you missed i t had been clearly at

tributable . I wonder sometimes whether thegovernor who , after enforcing the most rigorousand elaborate restrictions against the entry oftobacco into h is j ail

,found that he had unwittingly

conveyed the leaves h imself every morning betweenthe saddle and the back of h is horse

,when he rode

into the courtyard of the building and dismountedand proceeded on h is round— was more amused orangry with the cunning groom who had devisedthe expedient I am incl ined to th ink the former

,

for I am conscious myself of having entertained asneaking affection for many a crafty and engagingrascal— and perhaps my kindliest recollection of

all i s for one Antonio da Silva . I suspect somefriends will recognise the story !In certain wi ld and sparsely-populated areas inIndia

,there run unexpected little single-tracked

narrow -gauge railways,which serve many useful

purposes ; such as not only the conveyance of

224 THE SILENT INDIA .

His bedding he will, of course , have with h im, for

practically in India you always carry it about with

you even on a visit to a friend who will supplyyou with every other requirement to the extentof luxury. All “ sah ibs travel first - class

,and

the carriages are comfortable— there are longspring - cushions to sleep upon , and there is abathroom attached to each compartment. Duringthe day there is endless variety in the scenery

you pass through , and much to interest and amusein the various incidents which attract the traveller’snotice . There i s a del iberation , moreover , aboutthe movements of an Indian train in such local itieswh ich lends itself to observation . You saunteralong an embankment which stretches across agreat lake or swamp teeming with water-fowlyou stroll through a primeval forest you know isswarming with invisible wild game — you runthrough level fertile cultivated land dotted withl ittle hamlets at a distance of a few miles fromone another— or perhaps you push y our way alongan avenue cut through the elephant-grass growingon either side to a height of from ten to twentyfeet from the ground . All th is i s exhilarating inthe sunlight

,but when the shades of night begin

to fall,the situation becomes somewhat eerie . You

see the clouds of dust rising in the plains wherethe cattle are slowly wending their way home tothe villages

,and you reflect that the tiger is pos

sibly hanging on the outskirts of'

the drove,i f

perchance one may linger beh ind in the darkness .

A PAINFUL MEMORY 225

You picture the forest glade with its modest cropprotected by the strings stretched across it whichagitate the rough metal bells hung up to scare ofi

'

marauding beasts wh ich may encounter the en

tanglement ; and you fancy the half-wild cultivatorcrouching in h is l ittle but and speculating in sometrepidation upon the character of his nocturnalvisitors ! You mark the big fruit-eating bats ontheir way to rob the orchards of civi l isation ; younote the furtive jackal emerging from his lairamong the scrubby growth in the sandhills ; andyou th ink of how all wild things are waking upand about to sally forth in search of the foodgathered with the keen bright eyes and cockedattentive ears which alone protect the foragerfrom furnish ing the meal he himself seeks . Forvery ruthless are Nature’s ways . As ErnestThompson Seton truly says

,every wild creature ’s

death i s more or less a tragedy .

At intervals along thi s i solated and carefullylaid track , so incongruous with its surroundings ,are situated li ttle wayside stations many of themhardly better than shanties , with a few modesttenements for the native officials and one sl ightlymore pretentious for the sta tion-master

,clustered

about them . Sometimes a village of some sizewill be near the spot ; though more usually thi swill be a mile or so away , or even more distant .There will always be a good well close by ,

and

occasionally a dej ected - look ing “ bunneah,

or

shopkeeper,will have set up an unpretending

P

226 THE SILENT INDIA .

stall for the sale of simple food to wayfarers. Ametalled road will generally connect the railwaystation with the nearest town or Vil lage of anyconsequence , and upon th is , or the dusty ormuddy country tracks , the produce of the fieldsor forests will dribble along in great carts constructed mostly of bamboo and s tring and drawnby patient plodding oxen , unti l i t reaches th egoods-yard and is transferred to the trucks on asmall siding. Anyth ing more monotonous anddepressing than l ife at one of these small railwaystat ions it i s hard to conce ive . For the menials ,i t i s true

,i t i s somewhat better , for they are

more or less in touch with the inhabitants ofthe nearest Villages ; but the nature of h is dutiesnecessitates a certain amount of education in theo ffi cial i n charge , and he is, more often than not ,a man brought up in c ities and without thefaintest glimmering of interest i n Nature or sport.Very few tra ins pass in the twenty -four hoursh is subordinates are no companions ; h is food isof the poorest h is days are dreary and unevent

ful and at night h is soul i s frequently harrowedby the roar of some savage beast in the Vicinity

,

or the presence of a venomous snake in h isdwell ing. It is small wonder

,therefore

,that the

authorit ies find no l ittle difficulty in satisfactorilyfilling up these posts, or that applications fortransfers from the holders of these isolatedappointments should be frequent

,ingenious

,and

commonly mendacious .

THE SILENT INDIA.

in certain pol iti cal schemes , h ighly creditableto h imself, but which had unfortunately ledto the impoverishment of h is family

,and had

necessitated the acceptance on the part of h isson of h is present modest appointment— fromwhich

,however , he confidently hoped to be soon

promoted by the kind help of hi s patrons . Th isinteresting explanation was to some extent supported by the demeanour of the narrator. He

spoke Engl ish remarkably well,h is manner was

dignified,courteous and ingratiating— and perhaps

these advantages may have led to a less rigidscrutiny than usual of h is credentials when heappl ied for a post ; the filling up o f which wasnot

,as a matter of fact , a particularly easy

undertaking. His conduct of his duties,more

over,w as excellent

,h is punctual and accurate

submission o f reports and accounts were deservingof the highest praise , and he was general lyregarded as a type of what a district stationmaster seldom is , but always ought to be.

Now Mowglipore Road , the scene of the laboursof th is impecunious paragon , was only about fiftymiles from Doulatabad where a British regimentwas stationed , and we , the officers of this

,were

i n the habit of running down by a night train tothe l ittle wayside station , shooting through theday , and returning by an evening train to headquarters . To us Antonio had thoroughly endearedh imself. To get out of the train in such a local ityordinarily meant some hours wasted time hunting

A PAINFUL MEMORY . 229

up coolies,heaters and boatmen— a good dea l of

discomfort— and indifferent sport. All th is,how

ever,was removed and rendered unnecessary by

our trusty friend . A letter sent to h im the daybefore

,resulted in the appearance on the pla tform

on our arrival of a posse of natives ready to assistus, while Antonio , dressed in remarkable Europeangarments , smil ingly awaited us and implored our

acceptance of h is hosp ital i ty in the form of boiledtea

,white buffa lo-milk butter

,and unleavened

cakes,attractively set out on a dingy wh ite cloth

Spread on the official writing-table . Very j olly ,indeed , were the days so spent . Two dug-outs

,

or hollowed-out trees,connected together and ren

dered stable by the simple expedient o f lash inga native bedstead across them

,awa i ted each

sportsman while two boatmen , squatting on theirheels

,punted the weird craft about the “ j heel ”

or among the reeds on its margin. The geese ,duck

,and teal were innumerable . Perhaps the

best sport was obtained by flush ing the birds inthe reeds

,but even when they were all thoroughly

a larmed and flying in great clouds up and downthe lake

,th ey often came with in shot of one or

other of the gunners,and fell with a gratifying

“ flop ,

” dead or crippled,into the water. Then

what j ovial lunches we had together in the middleof the day

,when the tiffin baskets were opened ,

the whisky -and - soda quafi'

ed, and the bag up todate laid out for inspection

,comment and dis

cussion of the incidents which had attended the

230 THE SILENT INDIA .

gathering of the slain ! It was generally a verymixed bag indeed . Greylags and barred geese ,mallards

,pochards

,pintails

,gadwalls , spotted

bill s and other ducks ; common and blue-wingedtea l ; a stray bi ttern flopping out of the rushes ;a fish which had j umped into the boat by theshore or a big water-snake surprised lying halfa sleep in the reeds : i t was a curious collection ,but the very variety o f

'

i t was in itself a greatcharm . Then after lunch

,more fun with the

wa ter-fowl , and perhaps a l ittle beating up of

the grass in the neighbourhood of the lake for abare or a few quail . We generally wound up withthe snipe ; for although , of course

,they did not

l ie so well as they would have done in the heatof the day , the firing at them earl ier would havescared away the ducks

,whereas firing at the

latter did not worry the snipe . It was a happy ,i f t ired

,party wh ich wended its way to the

ra ilway station as the shades of evening fell ,and there, sure enough , was always waiting thesmil ing invaluable Antonio , congratulating us on

our prowess,and once more spreading out his

impossible entertainment for our refreshment anddelectationMany andvery pleasant were the expedit ions so

planned and carried out— but one evil day sadnews reached Doulatabad. Antonio was gone !The information was conveyed to us at the Clubby a party which had gone out to shoothad found no arrangements made —had spen t

232 THE SILENT INDIA .

with the arrival by train of small casks labelledcastor o il ,

” and consigned to a purely imaginarylandowner in the neighbourhood . Worse , he had ,i t seemed , been concerned in certain nefariousoperations

,ski lfully designed and cleverly carried

out. For some time the produce and goods consigned from Mowglipore Road had been fall ing offi n quanti ty — a fact attributed by the stationmaster, in h is offi cial reports , to the unusualprevalence of various diseases among the crops

,

and a h itherto unsuspected deficiency in the localrainfall . But it had come to be noticed thatwhereas the consignments from Mowglipore Roadhad decl ined , those from the nearest stations upand down the l ine had correspondingly increased ,and an inquiry

,cautiously conducted

,had very

soon unravelled the mystery . The l ittle countrytracks from the villages by which the producereached its destination

,all presently converged

upon,and blended with , certa in broad metalled

“ feeder ” roads passing direct to the railwaystation . Upon each of these

,i t transpired , the

degenerate descendant of the Da Silvas had im

prov ised a temporary toll-bar— placed in chargeof one of h is subordinates decorated with a spuriousbadge of othee

,and provided with a bogus Govern

ment Order in the vernacular imposing a chargeof one rupee upon every cart or conveyance passing the barrier ! Seeing that in harvest - timecertainly some twenty or th irty carts reached thestation every day

,the enterprise must have been

A PAINFUL MEMORY . 233

a profitable one,and

,by the careful “ shepherd

ing ”of any casual Europeans or officials who

visited the spot,had been run without detection

for a considerable time . The promoters no doubtwere far too astute not to have foreseen theprobabil ity of a sudden exposure

,and it was con

jectured that an arrangement had existed bywhich timely information could be sent to themby some one who had access to the correspondencein the head othee— and who had probably travelledin the train the arrival of which had been thesignal for the conspirators’ departure Indeed ,one of the party who was subsequently capturedand went to stay with his father- ih -law— wh ichis an Indian euphemism for residence in one of H isMajesty’s j ails— confirmed the supposit ion . Butof Antonio

,that courteous and engaging rascal ,

nothing more was ever seen or heard aga in .

Abi z'

t, excessi t, evasi t, erup i t. We missed h im

dreadfully.

AN ORIENTAL STRATAGEM.

IND IA , with its populat ion of over 300 mill ions ,necessarily presents among its peoples all variet ieso f men and morals . In view of its vast size , i t isnot safe to assign to such a population any typica lcharacteristics , but i t i s impossible to dissociatethe Indian

,any more than any other Oriental ,

from the idea of subtlety . And what Orientalsubtlety is

,only the experienced offi cial i n close

contact with Asiatics ever really comes to know.

It i s pol ite but persistent,unaggress ive but un

tiring, and a great part of the Anglo - Indian ’seducation , when he comes to the East , consists inlearning how to deal with it with caution andpatience. Whatever its origin , i t seems a part ofthe atmosphere of the Orient

,and it i s a curious

spectacle to watch the mentally accl imatisedWestern fencing with th e astute inhabitants ofIndia , without a trace of animosi ty being engendered on either side by the encounter ! This isth e case in big th ings and small , and perhaps inthe latter connection a tale may be told .

236 THE SILENT INDIA .

gates in charge of warders . Outside the maingate are the guard-room for the police sepoys andthe houses and dwell ings of the various officials,

&c. while the residence of the Superintendent orgovernor is si tuated in its own grounds in theimmediate Vicinity .

The staff consists usually of a European medicalofficer as governor , a j ailor and assistant j ailor ,a lso both Europeans— and a considerable numberof Indian subordinates

,comprising an armed police

guard , warders , hosp ital assistants , &c. Such a

prison as the one described would commonly holdfrom 1 500 to 2000 prisoners , and the efficient conduct and control of such an institution , i t maywell be understood

,demands no l ittle abil ity and

astuteness on the part of the officer i n charge.Now Selwyn Sahib

,si tting in the otfice of the

j ai l of which he was governor , had issued a

mysterious order . A number of prisoners wereto be at once put on to deepen an old well j ustinside the outer wall

,wh ich for many years had

been disused . There were plenty of other wellsyielding a good and plentiful supply of water , andthere seemed no reason whatever for the action .

Still,there was th e order , and i t had to be obeyed .

Its reception by the Indian subordinates indicatedno surprise or interest

,but a very careful observer

might have noticed a sudden gleam of attentionpassing over the carefully discipl ined features o fMahabir P ershad,

the second clerk,when he heard

the i nstructions given and that nigh t he and his

AN ORIENTAL STRATAGEM . 237

wife sat smoking and talking quietly ' for somehours into the warm darkness.Meanwh ile Selwyn Sah ib , returning to h is bungalow

,took out of h is pocket for re -perusal a

missive which had reached him by post on theprevious morning. It ran : To the HonourableSe lwyn Sah ib Bahadur. A well -wisher of theSirkar (Government ) has spent many sleeplessnights awake , seeing how wicked men have deceived the Cheri sher of the Poor . The sahib hasoften shown his red eye _ because tobacco is foundin the j ail against his orders . This i s th e work of

a very wicked man,Durga Singh , who owns the

v illage just outside the wa lls of the ja il , where hel ives . Every night th is base one throws tobaccoover the wall , so that the pri soners get it in themorning , and their friends in the city pay h im .

If it be the will of the sah ib to pun ish this wickedman

,he should deepen the jail well under the

wall,so that Durga Singh

’s well may run dry ; forit i s a shallow one and close by , and by the mercyof God it may thus happen that in th is hot weatherh is crops may wither up because he can get nowater to refresh them , and so he may be ruined .

All day and night th is well-wisher of the Government prays for the l ife and prosperity of the sah iband h is family members .

The letter was unsigned , but it was true thatSelwyn had been much annoyed by his inabili ty tocheck the ill icit entrance of tobacco into the prison

,

and his punishment record was getting long— a

238 THE SILENT INDIA .

fact of wh ich a paternal but not omniscient administration d isapproves . Al l conceivable meanshad been tried to put a stop to the pract ice , butwithout resul t. The police guard , the patroll ingwatchmen and the warders , had been subjected tothe strictest supervision ; everyth ing that cameinto the ja i l had been most carefully examinedand yet day after day prisoners were discoveredwith the drug in their possession . Of courseSelwyn had suspected the owner o f the so -calledvillage

,wh ich was merely a collection of three or

four huts ; but the man bore a good character , wasalways at work i n his few helds near h is dwell ing

,

andpresented , moreover , the appearance of a guileless and part icularly stupid agriculturist

,and the

last sort of person to put himself in opposit ion tothe wishes of the authorities . Still Selwynthought that there might be someth ing in thesuggestions conveyed in the letter

,and issued the

orders referred to .

Next day the well had been deepened ten feet,

and in the evening Mahabir P ershad,stroll ing

round the hamlet , accidentally met Durga S ingh ,who

,after some pol ite remarks

,reminded h im that

the fifty rupees he had lent h im for his daughter’s

marriage had remained for a long while unpaid,

and added that if i t were not forth coming withinterest at once , he should , with pain , be compelledto take proceedings against h im

,which he feared

would get h im into trouble with h is superiors .Mahabir P ershad expressed much sorrow at the

240 THE SILENT INDIA .

language to h im,and was very angry with the

farmer for competing with h im in h is operations,

and had even declared that he would ruin andhang h im . After th is interview Mahabir P ershaddiscontinued h is walks round the v illage

,and was

unfortunately s ick when Durga Singh presentlysent h im a message to come and see h im at mght.

The latter persisted for some days in his effortsto carry down h is own well as deep as the other

,

but the contest was hopeless , and , sure enough ,presently it ran completely dry .

The event caused h im much anxiety,for failure

of the crops meant something l ike ruin,and Selwyn

decl ined to see h im or have anything to do withh im . He consulted , after a l ittle bargaining as tofees

,an old friend who

'

was a retired Indianlawyer, but derived l ittle relief from the proceeding. It appeared , according to th is authority ,that he had contravened about fifteen sections ofthe Penal Code

,the penalties for wh ich varied

from a fortnight’s simple imprisonment to penalservitude for l ife . It was pointed out , with somej ustice

,that conviction under e ven the mildest

charge would probably place h im under the j urisd iction of Selwyn Sah ib , which was a consumma

tion not to be desired under the circumstances .A guarded opinion was expressed regarding thealleged insanity sah ibs being notoriously proneto doing violent and unnecessary things . It wasto be surmised , moreover , that if Selwyn Sah ibdid not at present possess sufficient information

AN ORIENTAL STRATAGEM 24 1

and evidence , there was probably some One readyto provide them ; and it was finally recommendedthat if possible the matter should be squared .

The advice very closely accorded with the farmer’sown views

,and was perhaps on the whole sounder

than is always given,and well worth the fiv e

rupees wh ich Durga Singh grudgingly doled out tohis adviser.So with some difficulty a meeting was arrangedwith the clerk (now better) in a grove of trees atsome distance from the j ail

,and there , while both

squatted on the ground and smoked their “ hookabs ,

” Durga Singh related h is trouble,adding ,

of a truth it i s rightly said that Selwyn Sahib isa dev il .” To th is the clerk guardedly assented .

When he is mad,he is so

,but when he is well ,

he is a good man and listens to counsel , and eventhe voice of this poor one finds favour with him ,

he said. The farmer looked at the speakershrewdly . The crops have been bad for threeyears

,and there are seventeen worthless relatives

feeding upon me,

” he continued rather inconsequently . Ten minutes of si lent smoking followed ,and then Mahabir P ershad rose to depart It isthe will of God

,

” he said sadly,

“ I also am a verypoor man. There i s a bond for fifty rupeesSeventy-five with interest , sa id the landownersoftly it might be that a favourable word from afriend such as thou art

,Mahabir P ershad, would

prove of service . If ten rupees The clerksniffed contemptuously .

“ I t i s truly sa id ,” he

Q

242 THE SILENT INDIA .

sol iloquised,

“ that by the mercy of God a greatevi l is often prevented by the happening of asmaller. But I must go . Durga Singh laida detaining hand on h is friend ’s arm

,who re

luctantly sat down again and smoked for a Spaceof some minutes . Then the clerk commenced adescription o f a Bengal i circus wh ich had recentlyvisited the town

,and passed lightly from this to

the consideration of a forecast he had read predieting a fa i lure of the rains . He was proceedingto a relation of the iniqui ty of one of his wife’scousins , when Durga S ingh , who had l istenedabstractedly while h is companion watched himlike a hawk

,stopped h im .

“ There are th ingsstill to be spoken

,he sa id

,sigh ing

,

“ it might bethat for a friend ’s a ssistance twenty rupees couldwith great difficulty be forgiven from h is debt .The clerk appeared to ponder for some moments

,

and then shook h is head slowly with less thanforty rupees forgiven , th is poor one and his familymembers will surely starve

,

” he said , making amovement to rise . Thi s was too much for thepatience of the less astute pol i tician . Thou

,too ,

art a devil and a robber ,” he broke out. Mahabir

P ershad smiled gently,rel i t h is “ hookah

,

” andshrugged h is shoulders .A good deal of discussion and considerablewrangl ing ensued between the two worthies— at

length , metaphorically , a t real grips with oneanother— at the end of which

,however

,Durga

Singh agreed to hand over h is bond to the clerk

244 THE SILENT INDIA .

sion crossed his face . That was not my purpose— you have been misinformed ,

” he said .

“ I wasdeepening the well to receive all th e tobaccowhich Durga Singh and his relatives throw overthe j ai l wall for the prisoners .” It was now the

farmer’s turn to stare , but across his countenance ,too

,there presently stole a look of intell igence in

wh ich a trace of anger might be discerned as hethought of the crafty clerk . He sobbed with somediffi culty for some minutes , cast ing an acute glancethrough h is tears at the indifferent governor .Then he said slowly and simply , No more tobaccowill come over the wall

,sah ib .

“ Then watershal l flow under the j ail walls to the fields ,

” saidSelwyn , and it may be , that if faith be kept , thewell will be partly filled up .

” Durga Singh againsalaamed deeply : Ou my head be it,

” he saidquietly , and , shuffling i nto h is shoes, departed .

And no more tobacco did come over the wall '

the prisoners lamented , and the farmer’s fields

grew green from irrigation . Mahabir P ershad

appl ied for a transfer,which was granted without

diffi culty as h is aged mother had telegraphed thatshe wished to see her son before she died , and she

happened to res ide in the very town in which hiscontemplated new appointment was s ituated. Butthe night before h is departure he was found veryseverely beaten in a field near his house

,though

he decl ined to give information to the police on theunselfish ground that as h is presence was urgentlyrequired in his new post

,he was loath to cause

AN ORIENTAL STRATAGEM . 245

delay in j oining his appointment by giving evidence ,and preferred to subordinate hi s private affairs tothe convenience of Government . Selwyn smiledgrimly when he heard of the incident— DurgaSingh was as good as h is word , and grew his cropsin peace— and the j ail subordinates smiled , and predicted a bright and prosperous career for the clerk ,as a particularly able and intell igent man . Butthey were of course unaware that in a confidential“ character book ” kept locked up in his newmaster’s otfice was a certified entry which ran“ Mahabir P ershad. 2nd clerk— transferred . An

industrious and capable rascal .

(Signed ) G . SELWYN .

THE LITTLE CR ICKE T .

MOOLCHUND,bunneah or shopkeeper

,s its in h is

shop in the bazaar at Wazirabad . The termsshopkeeper and shop do not

,i t must be under

stood , connote the same idea in the East as inthe West . Moolchund, for i nstance

,was merely

a seller of the few articles of"

food wh ich servethe purposes of the middle and lower class Hindus .His stock - in -trade was bestowed around h im inl ittle sacks half turned down to expose the ircontents

,and to facili tate removal of portions

when a sale was effected ; for, as a rule , the vending was on a very modest scale , and the purchaseras often as not took h is goods away with h im tiedup in the corner of h is waist-cloth , or carried in al ittle earthen pot . The principa l articles thusexposed for sale were r ice , o f various kinds anddescriptions ; wheat , divided , for culinary purposes

,into whole meal , and the starchy portion

of the grain separated from the husks by a processof

' shaking the flour in a l ittle tray made of reeds,

an operation wh ich,simple as it seems

,demands

248 THE SILENT INDIA .

With the exception of certain rough woodenstringed cots

,furniture is absent ; a few cheap

cotton carpets more or less cover the floors andthe only decorations are a few gaudily-colouredand h ideous unframed oleographs of gods and theirconsorts— if we except the great red -ochre figureo f a demon on th e front o f the dwell ing . Thislast is there more for a util i tarian than aestheticreason , for i t serves to warn off evil spir its ; and i tis occasionally replaced by an extravagantly badlydep icted representation of a British soldier— thelatter being regarded

,in the absence of an avail

able indigenous deterrent,as a very efficient

substi tute for the purpose .In the centre of the shOp ,

hemmed in with h isvarious l i ttle sacks

,bags

,and utensils , squats

Moolchund. He i s about forty years of age , cleanshaven , naked to the wa ist , and the sacred stringhangs from one shoulder over a great fat chest andprominent paunch . He pays no attention to thesolicitation of business devoting h is time to takingpulls at h is water-pipe which stands beside h im

,or

to scanning and cogitating over the entries in along narrow th ick book with coarse brown leaves ,bound in a kind of red canvas cover. When th eoccasional customer arrives

,a sort of screech

summons Balchund, h is eldest son (an exactreplica of h is father

,less developed) , from the re

cesses of the dark unsavoury room behind,where

he is engaged in mysterious processes involved inthe sorting out and adulteration of the stored

THE LITTLE CRICKET . 249

goods . No deal is ever transacted without awrangle

,in the course of which Balchund exh ibits

high qualities as an Oriental tradesman , carryingon an excited argument in a h igh -pitched voicewhile h is father sits silent

,as undisturbed and

immovable as a graven image . Complicated asmethods of barter apparently are in the East , theyare in real i ty simple

,—the seller demands exactly

twice as much as he is will ing to accept , wh ile thebuyer offers exactly half o f what he is prepared togive . With a knowledge of the system on bothsides , an arrangement is always eventually arrivedat , with the trifling disadvantage of that loss of

time which no Oriental sees any obj ection to .It would be a mistake to suppose that there

is anything aimless about the obese trader’s studyof h is curious books

, or that he rel ies altogetherfor h i s subsistence on h is actual takings in theshop . He i s also a money - lender , and there isvery l ittle concerning the pecuniary affairs of h isneighbours with wh ich he is not acquainted . Hisusual rate of interest for small and temporaryloans i s one anna in the rupee per mensem, or

about 75 per cent— sufficiently h igh , but for th ishe takes considerable r isks

,and he has many bad

debts . His charges are not regarded as exorbitant by h is cl ients

,for custom has sanctioned them ,

and it i s possible , indeed , that in a country wherecrops and occupations are precarious

,the extine

tion of his fraterni ty might not prove an altogether unmixed blessing to the community at large .

250 THE SILENT INDIA.

However th is may be , i t i s certain that Moolchund is a man of some considerable substance ,and sees no reason to depart from the methodo f

'

business and the views of l ife generally,which

have commended themselves to h is father andforefa thers for many generations ; and wh ich havebeen quite natura lly absorbed and adopted notonly by h is eldest , but also by h is second , son ,

who occupies a similar position in the house of h isfather- in -law

,i n another part o f the country. He

i s of course married,and h is wife Lallee i s very

much a l ive . Although she is only th irty - five

years o f age,she has already lost most of her

physica l attractions ; but she i s shrewd , and takesno unimportant part in the ordering of affairs inthe l i ttle circle . Quite i ll iterate and steeped inignorance

,and the contentment wh ich

,strangely

enough,so often accompanies these deficiencies,

she possesses,to a useful extent

,the protective

instincts of what was formerly regarded as theweaker sex . Moo lchund, i n whom the deductivefaculty is imperfectly developed , always consultsher in matters

,not infrequent , in which he finds

i t difficult to make up h is own mind ; and haslearn t by experience to attach considerable importance to advice and opinion

,totally devoid o f

any logical basis , but wh ich i s nevertheless foundin practice to be very generally appl icable andcorrect .The fami ly consists of the “ bunneah and h iswife

,their two elder sons , three daughters married

252 THE SILENT INDIA.

the real one,recorded in his horoscope

,was known

only to hi s father,the family priest

,and herself

—lest the knowledge should be util ised by amalic ious person to work him harm . She hadeven contemplated letting his hair grow

,dressing

h im in girl ’s cloth ing,and giving h im a female

name. Many were the prayers and offeringsmade by her to the kindly boy -

god Krishnathe beloved of Hindu mothers— for h is safety ; andmany , if truth be told , to malevolent deities also,to disarm their attacks .Under such circumstances d id l ittle Hari Dass

ga in h is earl ier experiences of l ife. Of moraleducation , as we understand the term ,

he receivedbut l ittle . The “ bunneahs conversation deal tentirely with sordid trading matters and theaffairs o f the microcosm in wh ich h is l ife wascast , and had certainly no elevating tendency .

From the “ guru,

” or rel igious teacher,i t is true ,

he derived instruction concerning reverence forthe gods

,obligat ions to parents

,the observance

of ri tual , and certain caste conventions and re

quirementsfi many of them not devoid o f useful

social and sanitary detail . But Lallee , wisewoman as she was according to her lights , couldnot convey to the ch ild what had never beenimpressed on herself, and entirely failed to ineulcate those principles of discipl ine

,self—control ,

i ntegrity,and regard for truth

,so essential as a

foundation in bu ilding up a robust,self - rel iant ,

and honourable character . She was just a fond

THE LITTLE CRICKET . 253

ignorant mother , and remembering her upbringing, who shall cast a stone against her ? Butthere is no doubt that the lad suffered severelylater as the result of

'

the defects of h is earlytraining.

Years passed,and the lad grew in stature and

intellect. Wazirabad was not an important town,

but i t was sufficiently large to possess not onlyvernacular and advanced schools

,but also an

educational institution which bore the proud titleof College . To the former Hari Dass was sent ,and very speedily delighted his masters andalmost paralysed h is father

,by the exh ibition

of wonderful powers of appl icat ion and distinctindications of genius . La llee was torn with con

flicting thoughts in wh ich pride struggled withmisgiv ing but about one th ing she was resolved

,

and that was that under no circumstances shouldhe leave his native town to be educated elsewhere

,

and in th is she was strongly supported not onlyby the “ guru

,

” but also by the “

parohit”

or

family priest . But i t was otherwise ordained,

and about th is t ime occurred an incident wh ichhad a great effect on the boy ’s future .One of the details of their l ives wh ich Hindus ,both male and female , particularly observe andenjoy

,i s the morning bath . It is an important

part of their religious and caste Observancescleanly and pleasurable . Wazirabad , l ike mostIndian towns of any consequence , stood on thebanks of a deep , broad river , and along the shore

254 THE SILENT INDIA .

were several well -constructed shallow stone flightsof steps for the convenience of bathers— the largesto f which was appropriated for the use of femalesonly . Lallee

,on a certain morning , was one of a

large crowd of women worsh ipping and performingtheir ablutions in the water. It was very earlyjust indeed when the sun had appeared above thehorizon and had not yet acquired the pitilessfierceness which would characterise i t later on .

The scene was strangely picturesque and peaceful .The deep and rapid river

,the sunlight glancing

on the water , the blue , calm sky , the bright andvaried colours of the cloth ing of the bathers , thesong of birds in the big peepul -tree which shelteredthe women and children gathered on the stonesteps , or splash ing in the river at their feet ,— allproduced a most pleasing and del ightful effect .The still fresh morning air rang with cheerfullaughter and song. No one noticed the greatblack knob which moved silently and slowly alongthe surface

'

of the deep stream in the direction of

the ghat ” or bathing - place . Suddenly therewas a rush through the water o f a huge, dark ,loathsome monster— a vis ion of two great ra i sedwicked j aws— an agonis ing shriek— and then , fora brief moment

,silence . It was

,however

,almost

instantly broken by a chorus of screams,the sound

of frightened women fleeing to the shore , and theshouts and yells of men and boys hasten ing to thespot. But there was noth ing now to be seen savea red streak upon the placid face of the river ,

256 THE SILENT INDIA .

tempered . A certain boy who had been giving agood deal of trouble

,was at last caught in some

particularly flagrant and disgraceful proceeding ,and the headmaster

,brought up in an Engli sh

publ ic school,promptly laid the delinquent across

a desk and administered a castigation under circumstances and conditions unresented by the sonsof the British aristocracy

,but appall ing to the

sentiments of the Indian parent . Great was theoutcry that followed. The college was under thecontrol of a committee largely composed of theboy ’s friends , and although the fear of higherauthori ties prevented h is actual dismissal

,the

headmaster was subjected to such a system of

petty annoyance and covert insult that he verysoon resigned ; and a Calcutta B .A. , one BabooChandra Lal

,was appointed in h is stead.

This man would have provided an interest ingstudy for the psychologist . In his domesti c affairshe was a good husband and parent ; in h is scholastio work he was industrious and capable ; and hewas free

,at least

,from the bolder vices . If an

unusual faculty for absorbing formulas , and thepossession of a certain nimbleness o f intellect

,be

regarded as cleverness,he was clever— but he had

no robustness either of mind or body,and was a

thorough ly discontented man . Despising the greatmajority of his more or less uneducated fellowcountrymen , and having very few feel ings in common with Europeans

,he bitterly resented h is pos i

tion in a society in wh ich , i f (as he had been led to

THE LITTLE CRICKET . 257

bel ieve ) i ntellectual attainments constituted thetouchstone of merit

,he was calculated not only to

hold h is own but even in some degree to sh ine .His parents had been of the lower middle class

,

and a lthough his father had acquired some smattering of Western ideas , h is mother had beensteeped in the ignorance and superstition whichis unfortunately to -day so common among womenin India . He had been taught as a ch ild to presume on the clemency of a benign god or an

indulgent master,and to cringe to a malevolent

deity or a stern superior and h is only real obj ectof worship , howsoever and by whomsoever manitested

,was power . With the recognition of th i s

attribute in an individua l came respect and something like devotion — without it

,something l ike

contempt,easily passing into rebell ion . He was

essentia lly,for good or evil

,the result of h is

environment . With a healthy bringing-up andunder firm sympathet ic treatment he would probably have developed into a very fair citizen as i twas

,he had been starved morally and gorged

intellectually,with deplorable results .

All th is , however , might have come with timeand happier conditions to righ t itself

,but for the

destruction of h is ideals and the hopeless jumbleinto which he had got h is bel iefs . He had naturally found the acceptance of Western philosophicalthought incompatible with the retention of most ofthe tenets of the Hindu religion

,and the struggle ,

honestly attempted,to reconcile such divergentR

258 THE SILENT INDIA .

teach ings,had led to a state of someth ing l ike

mental chaos . His mind was a curious compoundof metaphysical speculation

,genuine knowledge ,

and very human simplic i ty and weakness . In therevulsion o f feel ing which follows disillusionment ,he fe l t l ittle desire , or despaired of the attempt , tosubsti tute anything for the faith he had lost

,or to

replace the idols wh ich had fallen to the ground,and he was, in fact , no longer capable of forming aconception of perfection , but looked on l ife andman with a sort o f hopeless cyn icism . All thathe was convinced of was that everyth ing wasradically wrong

,and , regarding the Government

as responsible for th is state of affairs,he was

satisfied that i t must be subverted and done awaywith before there could be any real hope of improvement. With the question of what was toreplace it when th is was accomplished he did notconcern h imself— tha t lay on the lap of some gods— of what gods he was not sure .Such was the man appointed to instruct theminds

,and mould the thoughts

,of a large body of

impressionable and receptive young Indian lads .It must not be supposed , however , that BabooChandra Lal openly displayed these sentiments.He was a poor man , entirely dependent on hissalary as schoolmaster and had a holy dread of

the“ magistrate sahib who was president of the

school committee albeit the latter had l ittlet ime for th is portion of h is duties

,being often

away on i nspection duty , or engaged in one or

260 THE SILENT INDIA .

regularly at first— descriptions of the wonders of

the great ci ty,details concern ing h is work , com

ments on the inadequacy of h is allowance , andsometimes there were allusions to clubs andsocieties the student had begun to frequent .Occasionally also there were references to someunusual event

,such as when once a Parl iament

member,

” on tour in the country , had made aspeech at one of these societ ies . Hari Dass hadbeen much astonished at h is eloquence and movedto much enthusiasm by what he had said ; thoughwith an instinct seldom absent from nati ves of

India,he had nai vely added that the speaker did

not seem to be a pucka [real! sah ib.

” Much of

what was written was Greek to the rural tradesman

,who proudly showed the letters to h is old

friend the “ guru , and , while moaning at theexpense

,derived considerable comfort from the

enhanced respect which h is gifted son ’s positiongave him in the community . Then Hari Dasscame home for h is vacat ion— pleasant as ever toh is friends

,but unmistakably changed. Poor

Moolchund could make very little of h is conversation

,and follow very few of the diatribes aga inst

the Government which he sometimes indulged in.

A good deal of the lads time was passed in theperusal o f vernacular newspapers reeking withsedition and misrepresentation , and sometimes hewould sit for hours in brooding silence ; thoughat others he was as cheery as ever. The Hindurel igion lays very little stress upon congregational

THE LITTLE CRICKET . 26 1

worsh ip,so that his neglect of

'

rel igious duties wasnot much noticed by h is friends and his attitudeto the “ guru ” and the family priest was correctand seemly . He went with his father to pay h isrespects to the “ magistrate sahib

,and created a

good impression by his intell igence and courtesy.

Altogether he was a good deal of an enigma . Thebunneah

s” heart sometimes mi sgave h im ,

buthis son seemed to have two sides to h is character

,

and , buoyed up by pride and affection for th e boy ,he hoped for the best.There i s a mysterious underground form of com

munication i n India,and a good deal of informa

tion circulates through other than the regularchannels . One day the “ guru sent for Moolchund and showed h im a letter which had neverpassed through the post . It was to the effect thatthere had been a good deal of i nsubordination inthe university in the great city— that the authorship of certain h ighly incendiary pamphlets hadbeen traced to the students there— that theSirkar (Government) was very angry— and that

(here the poor l istener’s face assumed a greenish

hue) Hari Dass was gravely suspected of beingone of the ringleaders in the seditious movement .All one long hot night the two old men talkedover the matter , and , when the day broke , ascheme had been decided upon . As a result ,Moolchund called that morning on the “ doctorsahib ”

(the Civi l Surgeon ) , a kindly man to whomthe bunneah

” had taken a strong liking , and in

262 THE SILENT INDIA .

whom he had reposed complete confidencei

ever

since he had called h im in in despair when suffering from a surfe it— after having conscientiouslyswallowed both the pills and the enclosing paperwith the incantation upon it , whi ch had been ad

ministered by the native physician without anybeneficial result . To h im , then ,Moolchundimpartedthe information that Hari Dass was suffering froman obscure mental disease

,and wished to have his

authority to order the lad home but Mardon,the

Civil Surgeon , pointed out that he could not do thisin the absence of any professional knowledge o f thecase . This difficulty had been foreseen , and thev isitor proceeded to roll out a long string of plausible but mendacious reasons which had been agreedupon

,as to why the lad should be quietly but im

mediately summoned . Mardon knew the peoplethoroughly

,and

,moreover

,l iked the brigh t l i ttle

lad he remembered very well . He conj ecturedimmediately that he had got into some serioustrouble

,of the nature of which he was not l ikely

to hear the truth , and brusquely suggested thatif th is were the case the youth should simply disappear for a time until the matter should blowover

,or could be arranged . This advice very well

accorded with the v iews of both Moolchundand theguru a poor relation left by train next day forthe large ci ty— and long before the authoritiestook the ir tardy action , Hari Dass had quittedthe university for ever , and was in h iding in adistant part of the country . He need not , as

264 THE S ILENT INDIA .

cruelly pillaged the harmless inhabitants o f theirpossess ions ; ostensibly in order to provide fundsfor the advanced party . Whether any of theproceeds of th is brigandage ever reached theparty ’s exchequer is extremely doubtful , but theprevalence of these crimes became a very seriousmenace to the law -abiding population , despite thebest efforts o f the pol ice The secret of theselected point of a ttack on any particular nightwas carefully kept

,and there was practically never

any resistance experienced from the unarmed anddefenceless v illagers . The whole district wasseriously alarmed . S imilar disturbances were atthat time occurring in other parts of the country

,

and censure has in some places been bestowed on

the authorit ies for not taking earl ier and morestrenuous action to put a stop to such proceedings .But the fact probably was that those in charge ofthe safety of the population

,well acquainted with

the real nature and character of these disturbersof the peace , were tempted at first not to take thematter too seriously. The situation was one not

easily apprecia ted by other than experiencedAnglo - Indian officials. These lads and youngmen who had joined these bands were not in anysense armed ruffians who had systematically defiedthe law

,and they had indeed until qu ite lately

been well -conducted respectable sons of respectable parents . They came o f a stock wh ich hadnever furnished a single soldier to any army inany cause , and were essentially mere students

THE LITTLE CRICKET . 26 5

intoxicated with a sense of self- importance whichwas entirely novel to them , and the result of theperusal of a l iterature , wh ich they imperfectlyunderstood ; which had been written for a peoplealtogether d ifferently constituted to themselves ;and which had assumed the existence of a stageof pol it ical development in the reader to whichcomparatively few Indians have as yet attained .

Impressionable to an extent bordering upon thehysterical

,they were really the catspaws of more

astute and cautious conspirators beh ind the scenes .These volunteers ,

" i t may be said , had embarkedin a puerile manner upon a sort of crusade . Theterm , i t i s true , may , on account of i ts associations ,be taken exception to

,but its use is to some

extent justified by the fact that many of themacted from more or less altruistic

,i f extravagant

and mistaken,motives . Their attitude is difficult

of comprehension by the calculating matter -offact Western , but when the comparatively recentemergence of the Indian youth from crass ignorance and superstition is remembered , the posit ionbecomes much better understood , and for instancesof analogous semi - fanatical movements we mustlook , not to modern times , but to periods of theworld ’s h istory when a people was only j ust commencing generally to pass out of darkness intolight . Such instances are sufficiently instructive .But at last the pillagers made a fatal mistakein their arrangements. One night they swoopeddown on a li ttle hamlet ; setting fire to the huts ,

266 THE SILENT INDIA .

and rush ing upon the residents to the accompan iment of shots fi red from the few weapons theypossessed . The wretched people

,roused from sleep

by the noise and conflagration ,made l ittle attempt

to defend themselves but there happened to bestaying in the village rest-house

,unknown to the

band , a Pathan Indian officer and his two sons .Sufdar Khan

,who at no time had any particular

respect for the sanctity of human life , and who ,moreover , regarded down-country natives as l ittlebetter than vermin

,promptly ran h is sword

through the nearest robber up to the hilt ; whileh is two lusty sons laid about them with theheavy iron - bound clubs they carried for protection when travell ing. Thus reinforced

,the

Villagers rall ied,charged their assailants

,and

the whole matter was over in less than twentyminutes ; for the cowardly raiders , astonished attheir reception

,at once gave way and fled in

all d irections . When the affa i r was over, onlyone body lay upon the ground

,with the blood

well ing up from a wound through the heart,

and the glazed eyes staring at the sky . Andthis was all that was left of

'

the happy , cheerylad and brill iant scholar who had once beenHari Dass .Noon next day brought the Magistrate

,the

Superintendent of Pol ice,and the Civil Surgeon

galloping post -haste to the scene of the attack ;for the village watchman , emerging from theseclusion of a hut on the outskirts of the hamlet

268 THE SILENT INDIA .

o f his son ’s end,I never ascertained

,and nothing

in his demeanour ever indicated any change inh is ord inary very l imited v iew of l i fe and itsvicissi tudes . But when he died some yearslater

,I have heard that at the bottom of an

old chest copiously studded with big metal bossesand strongly bound with iron clamps

,but with

a cheap lock which any one could have openedwith a nail

,they found

,embedded in old blankets

and worn -out clothes,a small packet containing

a tarnished medal wrapped in a piece of countrypaper labelled in the vernacular apparentlyrecently , “ The l ittle cricket ; died Thedate corresponded with the one upon wh ich HariDass had left Wazirabad for the great city , so ,

I have thought,perhaps the poor old man had

known . For indeed the son he had proudlywatched and loved so long had been lost to himabout that t ime .

THE MISADVENTURES OF FAIGA.

ISLAMABAD,a town in Upper India , while not

sufficiently large or important enough to be amunicipal ity , was sufficiently so to have come

,at

the present time,with in the provisions ofAct XX.

,

and thereby,to the great sorrow of the inhabit

ants,rendered liable to be compulsorily sanitated

and subj ected to other wholesome but unpopularinfringements of personal l iberty . But i n thedays to which the incidents in this story relate,i t was unprovided with such disguised blessings .Like so many centres of population in India , i tstood on the bank o f a smal l river , and consistedessentially of one main paved street bounded on

either side by houses , in the lower stories of

which the shopkeepers displayed their wares ,while the upper ones

,usually provided with

wooden balconies overhanging the road , formedthe dwelling-places of the residents . Branch ingoff from the main thoroughfare were other smallerstreets

,mostly unpaved and exceedingly dirty ,

where dwelt the poorer classes— long l ines of"

hovels ,

270 THE SILENT INDIA .

broken here and there by the residence of one o f

the wealth ier inhabitants . The principal buildings,

situated about the centre of the town and opening upon the main road , were the Tehsil , wherethe Tehsildar

,an Indian official with magisterial

powers,held h is court ; and facing this , the

Thana, or pol ice station , where the ch ief Indian

pol ice official , the Thanadar , had h is headquarters . Both structures were provided withlarge stucco Saracenic arches facing the roadway ;forming the entrance to courtyards with smallchambers all round . A schoolhouse and a dis

pensary ,both of a very unpretending character

,

completed the public buildings . The Tehsildarand Thanadar were the representatives of theGovernment , and as such enj oyed considerablestatus and power , but there were also a certainnumber of fairly well-to-do men ,

“ mahajuns orbankers

,lawyers , doctors , &c. The bulk of the

population,however

,consisted of the small shop

keepers already referred to , artisans plying theirvarious caste trades , farmers , cowkeepers, agriculturiste

,850 .

At the period at which this story opens , therewas a good deal of excitement at Islamabad. A

belated villager,returning to his home

,had heard

a crackling noise,and seen a body of smoke issuing

from the dwelling of one of the wealth iest o f theresidents

,a banker

,Balkishen by name. There

should have been a watchman in the local ity,but

,

as it subsequently transpired , he was suffering

272 THE SILENT INDIA .

well attired . But now he squatted,dishevelled

,

moaning , and smoke -begrimed , on the groundthe very picture of woe . Everyth ing he possessed

,

he wa i led , was in the house . It was with thegreatest difficulty , when it was obvious thatthe building was doomed , that the unfortunateman could at last be persuaded to retire to thedwell ing o f a friend , leaning on th e arm o f h isservant Faiga .

Mumtaz Ahmed,the Thanadar

,was a capable

man,not originally born with an undue confidence

in his fellow - creatures,and now,

after twentyfive years’ service i n the pol ice , less incl ined thanever to yield to any such weakness . The day hadbroken , and as soon as the crowd , assisted by theministrations of the constables

,had melted away

,

he proceeded to inspect the ruins as far as the glowing mass o f burnt timbers would allow him . A

port ion o f a wooden staircase , nearly all destroyed ,still proj ected from where the supports had beenlet into the wall ; and this he found he couldreach . He rubbed h is hands several times overthe woodwork which had escaped the flames

, and

applied them to h is nose . The result appearedto excite h im to further examination , and afterspending the best part of an hour in h is investigat ion

,he put a guard over the debris, and returned

without any remarks to the Thana .

By noon the next day it was possible to make athorough search in the ruins for anyth ing thatmigh t have escaped destruction

,and this was

THE MISADVENTURES OF FAIGA. 273

carried out by the Thanadar and Tehsildar,assisted

by the now somewhat calmer banker . But therewas very l ittle found . There were two or threeingots of silver

,and one of silver and gold fused

together,which had evidently been collections of

rupees and some gold coins,and also

,

— whatmoved the owner to renewed lamentations , —thecharred remains of a great wooden chest full of

what had once been paper ; for th is , he excitedlydeclared

,represented all that was left of the

bonds , notes , and valuable securities wh ich hadconstituted the great bulk of h is fortune. Theloss meant absolute ru in

,for

,as is commonly the

case with Indians,nothing was insured . There i s

never much furniture in an Eastern house , andthe l ittle there had been was tota l ly destroyed .

Balkishen took away h is ingots and, prostratedwith grief

,left the spot— and a few days later ,

after further fruitless search ing among the ruins ,disappeared from the neighbourhood .

The incident was duly reported to the authori

ties as an accidental fire , and Mumtaz Ahmed ,l ike a wise man

,kept h is susp icions to h imself

since he was not in a position to prove anyth ing .

The matter,indeed , would have been speedily

forgotten,but for the appearance on the scene

of a number of creditors , so soon as the news ofthe disaster had Spread abroad. But Balkishenwith his belongings had totally vanished he wasapparently a ruined man and the hungry horde ,despairing of getting blood out of a stone , presently

s

274 THE SILENT INDIA.

abandoned their efforts to ascertain h is whereabouts

,and departed . Faiga

,the servant

,by

caste a Pasi or swineherd , obtained employmentin the neighbourhood lamenting the loss of agood master

,and the undeserved misfortune

which had fa llen on himself. Islamabad resumedi ts wonted calm .

A broad , unmetalled , grass - grown road runsfrom Islamabad to Mo z ufi

erpore , and on themargin o f

"

th is,about four miles from the former

town,there is situated a small unenclosed orchard

of common country mangoes , coarse fruit such asthe guava

,and a few oleander bushes . One morn

ing,a few months before the incidents related , the

proprietor of this , a certain NundKishore , visi tinghis property

,had been surprised

,and not partien

larly pleased , to find that a long-haired faquir,

covered with ashes , had establ ished h imself i nthe centre o f the grove among the trees

,built h i s

l ittle chula or mud fireplace , plastered theground all round it , spread out h is mat, and madeother arrangements which in the case of a religi

ous mendicant indicate that he intends to makethe Spot a temporary home . A mild expostulationwith the new arrival had elicited such a volley of

curses as made the unfortunate owner of theproperty quail ; and he had raised no furtherobj ection when

,later on

, he found that h is un

welcome visitor had constructed a small platformof earth about a foot h igh , and had erected uponthis a miserable one-roomed shanty, surmounted

276 THE SILENT INDIA .

made no further vis its to the Bairagi— for th is wasthe sect to which the faquir belonged .

The attack was duly reported to Mumtaz Ahmed ,the Thanadar

,and although all his efforts to dis

cover the assailants were unavailing , the inquiryel ici ted the fact that on one occasion passers-by i nthe darkness had heard the sound of a fierce altercation in the hut

,in wh ich the raised angry voice

o f the owner had been recognised,though that

of the other disputant,which was pitched in a

much lower key,appeared to be that of a stranger .

The Thanadar could make nothing of'

the matterat all . He i nstituted cautious but careful inquiriesinto the antecedents of the faquir

,but , as is usually

the case where members o f thi s great irresponsiblewandering class are concerned

,no one appeared to

be able to give the least information regardingh im. He remembered the suspicions of the

Villagers that the o bj ect of the late assault hadprobably fallen foul of h im

,and took an oppor

tun ity of more fully interrogating Faiga (nowpeacefully engaged in tending pigs) as to thedetails of h is encounter with the “ men in buckram .

” That worthy , however , after entangl inghimself in a mass of conflicting statements , eventually fell back upon the excuse that he could not besure of what had actually occurred

,on account of

the darkness . This was all Mumtaz Ahmedwanted , for he had ascertained that the nightwhen the incident occurred had been clear

,and the

moon nearly at the full . He therefore dismissed

THE MISADVENTURES OF FAIGA . 277

the witness courteously and apparently satisfied

and hadh im carefully watched .

The reports which presently came in regardingP a iga

s movements were interesting. His dutiesin connection with his attractive flock did not

seem to be exacting , and he was in the habit , i tappeared

,of leaving his charge and frequenting a

small grove of trees about a mile from Islamabadand had been observed

,moreover

,on more than one

occasion,digging at the foot of these with the small

short sort of spade which is the usual implementin the hands of the Indian agriculturist

,but very

rarely seen in those o f men of P a iga’

s caste . TheThanadar began to see a l ittle l ight . He stronglysuspected that the banker had set fire to h isresidence h imself, for he had detected the smell ofkerosene oil on parts of the materials of his houseand it was probable he had done th is to defraudhis creditors . This i s an expedient commonenough in the East

,and not altogether unknown

e lsewhere . His servant Faiga had probably beenhis accomplice . But what he wanted to know waswhether Balkishen had secured for himself anest-egg before destroying h is property ; and ifso

,where he had put it. The pig - tender’s ex

plorations suggested that a similar idea had oc

curred to him,and that he suspected that his

former master hadburied h is treasure in the groveof trees where he conducted h is Operations . TheThanadar thought the matter over long and carefully

,and eventually took into h is confidence a

278 THE SILENT INDIA .

constable one Surfaraz Khan , a tall , fierce ,

black-bearded Pathan from the north .

One evening,Faiga , squatting on the ground in

front of his hut and pull ing contentedly at h islong country pipe , found his head shrouded in ath ick blanket , and h is body being rapidly borneaway by a couple of lusty men . On account of

his caste , h is dwelling was situated on the veryoutskirts of the village , and the smothered cri eshe endeavoured to utter under the blanket reachednobody ’s ears . In a few moments he real ised thathe had been bundled into a small cart , and that arough voice was informing h im - that if he moved orspoke his throat would be cut from ear to ear. He

was too frightened to do anyth ing , and presentlythe rough j olting and tinkling of bell s told h imthat he was being conveyed over rough ground ina veh icle drawn by trotting bullocks. The j ourneylasted some hours— h is captors so far looseningthe covering over h is head as to permit h im tobreathe . At length , j ust as the first signs of

dawn appeared on the horizon , the cart stoppedbefore a low building— two strapping men withmasks on hauled h im roughly out

,and after pitch

ing h im into a dark evil-smell ing chamber,t ied his

arms and legs securely ,and warned h im that to

make any sound would be the signal for h isdeath .

When day fully broke he looked around him .

He was , he at once recognised , in an old desertedstable ; the stalls in which were separated from

THE MISADVENTURES OF P AIGA. 279

one another by mud walls about six feet high ,while the space between them and the roof was

quite open . A murmuring sound o f voices a shortdistance ofi

'

denoted that other people were in thebuilding ; but the stalls on e ither side of the one i nwhich he found himself, were , from the silence

,

apparently empty . About noon one of the men

brought h im food and water , but made no replyto the captive ’s entreaties and appea ls for explanation of his treatment. Despite h is a larm andanxiety however

,such i s the force of habit , he

presently fell asleep ; but was awakened suddenlyby a piercing shriek in the next stall

,and what

sounded l ike heavy blows being struck . Nighthad fallen

,and the shanty was in complete dark

ness,save for a faint glow as from a sma ll fire in

the v ic inity . There was a minute’s silence , andthen a harsh low voice said

,

“ Get up .

” Thenfollowed the sound o f more blows , shrieks and

pleadings for mercy . Poor P a iga’

s heart stoodsti ll . “What is your name ? growled the samevoice he had heard before . A muttering soundfollowed .

“ Son of a thousand pigs ,” came the

voice again,but in a fiercer and h igher key , i t

i s Balkishen,the ‘ mahajun ’ and th ief. One more

lie, and your tongue shall be cut out of your throat .It was you ,

shameless one,who set your house on

fire to cheat your creditors . “Mercy, mercy itwas the scoundrel Faiga

,were the alarming

words which came over the wall to the ears of

the pig - tender,cold and clammy with fright .

280 THE SILENT INDIA.

Where did you put your money ? was the nextinquiry in a terrible voice . No reply .

“ Answer ,bastard .

” Still silence . Then to his horror thesh ivering l istener heard the order

,Bring the hot

irons.” Groans and shrieks followed , and a horribles ingeing odour was wafted over the divisional wall .Then the cries and piteous appeals for mercy wereredoubled

,and at last came a low muttering sound ,

and finally“ that will do ” from the rough voice .

Clearly the v 1ctim had confessed. Fa iga fainted .

When he came to,two big masked men were

standing over h im . Pasi (member of the swineherd class) , said the shorter of the pair ,

“ i f you

desire to l ive,tell the truth . Did the carrion in

the next stall , Balkishen , mahaj un ,’

set fire to h i shouse

,or did you Balkishen did it , stuttered

the terrifiedman th is slave did but obey orders .That evil one was desirous to save h is money

, and

had carried it away secretly at night.” “ Good ;that l iar confessed as much . Where did he putit ?

” was the next inquiry in a somewhat mildertone . Faiga , sl ightly relieved , rapidly made uph is mind to tell all he knew

,especially since i t

was pretty clear that the information had beenalready extracted from the unfortunate banker .Cherisher of the poor ,

” he rapidly repeated withh is forehead in the dust , grovell ing on the groundat the feet of his interrogator

,th is poor one has

searched for a long wh ile for the place,but with

out success . Often tha t base one went secretlyto a grove near the ci ty and th is slave watched

282 THE SILENT INDIA .

starting in a day or two . Then we can explorethe place thoroughly . There is no hurry— thatbase-born dog will never Speak .

But for once the astute Mumtaz Ahmed wasmistaken . He had made two serious blunders .Faiga

,cowering on the ground , heard the retreat

ing sound of galloping horses,and after about an

hour e lapsing without anything occurring , raisedhis head and looked round . A flickering glowshowed that the fire used by the torturers forheating their irons was stil l burning

,and after a

while he gathered up sufficient courage to rise ,quit h is prison

,and go round to the next enclosure

where he expected to find the dead body of hislate employer . But it was quite empty . He

blew up the embers of the fire and put on a l ittlemore wood and by the l ight yielded by the blaze ,he carefully examined the gra ss-grown floor of theempty stall . There were no signs of any disturbance of the grass as would have been caused bysuch incidents as he seemed to have overheard .

Presently he noticed a log of wood , and h is eyefell on a piece of fresh calf-skin— and taking thelatter up , he saw where it had been recentlyseared by some hot implement . It had evidentlybeen left beh ind by the two men . Th is wasMumtaz Ahmed ’s first oversight , and it set Faigathinking. Suddenly a recollection flashed acrossh is brain . The caste to which he belonged combines pig - tending with a good deal of pettylarceny , and , on the principle of setting a th ief to

THE MISADVENTURES OF P AIGA. 283

catch a thief, the members of it are often'

employed

as watchmen—and , curiously enough , are usuallytrustworthy. In the discharge of their dutiesthese watchmen are brought a good dea l i ntocontact with the pol ice— whose methods of detection o f crime

,in the times we are dealing with

,

though very effective,were not always of a

character which would commend itself to theWestern ph ilanthropist . He remembered nowhaving heard with much approval and admiration ,at one of h is caste meetings , o f how the perpetrators of a great robbery had been detected byexactly such a plot as that of which he had justbeen a Victim . The proceedings and confession hehad heard

,he now saw ,

were all fictitious and partof a cleverly acted play — the “ mahajun hadnever been there at all ! The overlooking of thepossibil ity of one of P aiga

s caste having heard ofthe stratagem was the second of the Thanadar

smistakes.A wave of fury swept over the pig-tender— notonly on a ccount of the treatment he had rece ived ,but also because be recognised that he had falleninto the trap

,and had directed the attention of h is

persecutors to the faquir. For,after the failure of

h is explorations in the grove,he had felt pretty

sure that Balkishen had left h is treasure with thatindividual

,and the suspicions of the villagers that

he had been mauled by him were perfectly correct .He had first visited the holy man and endeavouredto engage h im in some useful conversation , and

284 THE SILENT INDIA .

after being rudely repulsed,had

, on a secondoccas ion

,been surprised by the owner while rum

maging about in h is hut,

and had then beenknocked down senseless ; and his body had beencarried away and thrown down in the road whereit had been found . He had always , however , intended to have the booty somehow— but now itwould fall into the hands of the police ! He wasfurious at the thought . There was still time , however

,to secure revenge by thwarting the latter ,

and also an off-chance of obtaining a l iberal rewardby warning the faquir. His mind was rapidlymade up , and the first gleam of daylight saw h imrunning l ike a greyhound across country in a beel ine for Nand K ishore’

s orchard . He knew h isway quite well

,for he had recognised

,on coming

into the open,that the stable was a building

attached to a ruined planter ’s bungalow ; the sizeand design of which denoted both the opulenceand peculiar notions regarding domestic arrangements , which had characterised the long dead-and~gone owner. In a couple of hours he reached hisdestination . The faquir

,nearly naked

,was squat

ting before a small fire in front of his hut ah

stractedly counting the beads of his rosary , witheyes fixed on the ground .

“ Holy one,

” pantedFaiga , throwing h imself down in front of h im ,

this poor one comes to tell you the police havediscovered where Balkishen ’

s treasure is,and will

be here directly . Not a sound indicated theslightest interest in h is communication on the

286 THE SILENT INDIA .

But he did not go more than one day’s j ourney in the

direction indicated ; wandering away andcompletelydisappearing in the mystery which surrounds thethoughts and movements of the great body ofi tinerant mendicants in India . Noth ing more wasever seen or heard of h im in Islamabad aga in .

But six months later,some one very l ike him but

grown very corpulent,might have been observed

in a distant town , encamped under a tree in thegarden of one B isheshar Dyal , who had beenformerly known as Balkishen . For some curiouseth ical reasons of his own

,the faquir had been

faithful to h is trust.The Thanadar Speedily heard of the Bairagi

s

departure,and the very next day after he left

,two

men dressed as cool ies and apparently sent by theowner to restore the orchard to its origina l order

,

appeared upon the scene,and

,among other im

provements, removed all traces of the recluse’s

recent abiding -place,and even dug down some

distance into i ts si te. But the only th ing theycame across was a piece of calf’s skin

,seared

apparently with some hot implement— the un

earth ing of which caused both labourers to pauseand look at one another . Two Englishmen

,under

the circumstances , would probably have burst outlaugh ing

,but the discovery did not seem to strike

either of the diggers as in any way amusing,but

rather the reverse . It is fortunate,perhaps

,that

the vengeance of Allah has probably very l ittleeffect on Hindus .

THE MISADVENTURES OF FAIGA . 287

This i s all that i s known concerning the deviousways of Balkishen and h is acqua intances . As topoor Faiga

,a few months later he received a

mysterious offer of a post as watchman in a distant village . Reviewing the circumstances of hispast l ife

,he fai led to recall any incident wh ich

would account for such an indication of approvaland confidence , and he presently came to the conelusion (probably correctly) that it meant that hisfurther presence in the neighbourhood of Islamabad was , for some reason , not desired . He wiselyaccepted the appointment and left.In conclusion , i t should be stated that thearch ives of the criminal invest igation departmentin the local ity contain no reference to any of th eincidents related— so perhaps they never occurred .

But they form the subj ect of one of the favouritestories of a grizzled old police pensioner

, Surfaraz

Khan by name , when he sits with hi s friends inthe evening under the peepul-tree in h is Village

,

smoking his long country pipe,and narrating the

experiences of h is early days. He attributes thefailure of the enterprise partly to the villainy ofthe faquir

,but more particularly to the fool ish

leniency displayed in the examination and interro

gation of the low-caste man Faiga ; Opin ing thatif they had been more strenuously conducted

,they

should have led to the recovery of the mahajun’

s

treasure,and its equitable distribution among his

creditors . With which supposition his hearers ,with some mental reservations , politely agree .

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS .

SOME devotees , indeed large numbers , after worsh ipping at Hardwar , pass on from thence to perform the pilgrimage to the very sacred shrinesof Kedarnath and Badrinath in the Himalayanmountains among the eternal snows , the Himachul

of the Ramayana ; and even to the distant lakeMansarowar and the holy mountain Kailas . Thetemptation to do so i s very great , for as the dewis dried up by the morning sun , so are the sins ofmankind dried up at the sight of H imachul .

”He

who drinks of the lake of Mansarowar, its watersare l ike pearls ,

” goes direct to the heaven of Shivareleased from the sins of a thousand birth s ” andhe who bathes there , to the paradise of Brahma .

In bygone days when official l ife was less strenu

ous, and when it was at once humiliating and comfortable for the young offi cer to recognise tha t h istemporary disappearance would be probably nu

noticed,the writer i n the course of h is duties has

wandered with these pilgrims into the Holy Landvisit ing the shrines and the passes leading to the

290 THE S ILENT INDIA.

hair inside) for the colder heights , and a pair of

putties ” (flannel leg bandages ) , are also allnecessaries in the outfit. We did not take theregular pilgrim route wh ich runs through the hotvalleys and mostly follows the course o f theAlakananda river and i ts tributaries , for the sur

roundings of the halting-places are commonly fouland offensive to a dangerous extent

,but so far as

poss ible we used the tracks on the h igher h ills ,following the watersheds , and only descendinginto the valleys when the proceeding was com

pulsory. This , however , was often the case inorder to follow the road , and herein l ies the greatrisk to health when mountaineering in theseregions for very few constitutions can stand theextraordinary changes in temperature and atmospheric pressure involved in camping one nigh t ina steamy hot valley or on the banks of a river ,and sh ivering next night in a tent pitched at anelevation where the thermometer drops to wellbelow freezing-point — and if one does fall il l inthese wild surroundings so far from help

,matters

are l ikely to go hard with you . The writer shud~ders now to th ink of a week once passed in al ittle tent away in these wilds when prostratedwith dysentery ; the rain and sleet falling all thetime

,and the only water available for drinking

,

th ick with mud and micaceous debris. Noth ingprobably saved h is l ife but a long forced and

horrible ride to a l ittle rest - house,and the

burglarious breaking open there of a district

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS . 29 1

official’

s l ittle “ cache of sago,brandy

,and

medicines '

Our line of march for the first few days took us

through the forests and clearings of the no toriousTarai , with its water-table nearly at the surfaceof the ground ; covered with lofty trees , immensecreepers

,huge clumps of bamboos

,very h igh grass

and j ungle,and teeming with wild animals. It i s

a paradise to the spo rtsman , but a name of dreadto others . At the time that we passed throughit , i t was fairly healthy , but at certain periods ofthe year it i s a lmost un inhabitable on account of

the amount and severi ty of the malaria . Indeedthere are many areas which have been abandonedas too deadly by all except the Tharoos— a strange

,

wild race with i ts own pretentious traditions,

which seems to be more or less immune to thedisease . They l ive in huts of a peculiar construetion with long proj ecting eaves , and keep the i rdrinking-water in separate buildings away fromthe dwell ing hut— covering the fluid in the vessel swith a cloth . This is interesting in connectionwith the mosquito theory regarding the cause of

malaria. There i s noth ing peculiar about theirdiet

,but report says they are very fond of strong

drink when they can get it. It i s a half-wildpeople concerning wh ich not very much is knownexcept to Forest Officers.

Leaving th is swampy tract of country with itsherds of wild elephants , its tigers , spotted deer ,hog deer , &c. ,

we pushed on through the Bhabe r ,

292 THE SILENT INDIA .

—a curious area , geologically speaking , since it i scomposed of boulders andde

bris brought down byrivers and streams from the mountains to thenorth

,and spread over the low - lying land round

the base of the foothil ls l ike an apron ; and fromwhence the long valleys pass up between the spursinto the Hima layas above . Few wells are foundhere

,on account of the formation , and the tract

has been largely supplied with canals fed bynatural lakes in the neighbouring h il ls . Thesecanals were constructed by a former Commissioner ,General S ir Henry Ramsay

,for

,originally covered

with vast and impenetrable forests then of l i ttlevalue

,large clearings were made by h is efforts for

the growth of corn and other cereals requ iringirrigation . The experiment serves to i llustratethe fluctuations of supply and demand ; for timeshave changed , and with the increased requirements for timber for ra i lway sleepers , &c. , and thereduced va lue of gra in , i t i s doubtful now whetherthe alterat ion was worth the money it cost. Thereclaimed areas are cultivated by h illmen attractedby low rents

,who retire to the h ill s on the

approach of the rainy season .

In both these tracts are large Governmentforests managed by officials of the Indian ForestDepartment . This valuable organisation has donemuch good work . Formerly there were greatareas of forests

,copse and waste belonging to the

State in every province in India,and but l i ttle

attempt had been made e ither to prevent wasteful

294 THE SILENT INDIA .

man , modest in demeanour , s imple in tastes , andbrave as a l ion . When tid ings o f the outbreakof the Mutiny reached him

,he was some hundred

miles away from h is headquarters and in a verywild and inaccessible part of the h ills . A fewhours sufficed for h is arrangements , which in

cluded the laying out of relays of ponies on theroad by Villagers warned of h is advent by nativerunners . When he started

,he merely told his

groom Bach i holding h is horse,hi s destinat ion ,

and added,

“ Get there as soon as you can .

Riding day and night,almost continuously , he

reached his headquarters i n an incredibly shortspace of time , and when he arrived , there was“ Bach i

,who had used the tracks known only

to the h illmen,standing ready to take his horse !

He only said,

“ Hulloa,Bach i ! ” and there and

then promoted h im to a post bevond a servant’s

wildest dreams . History does not say how“ Bach i got on in h is new appointment— probably badly

,—but the incident was just the sort

of one that appeals to the Oriental mind . Themutineers reached the foot of the h ills

,but never

invaded Sir Henry ’s domains,firmly held in h is

strong hands . It is related,though with what

truth the author cannot say ,that secret informa

tion having reached h im of the coming of a certain incendiary leader sent by the mutineers toexcite disaff

'

ect ion among the Goorkha troops,he

rode down the h ill , met the disguised man , identified h im , and blew out his brains on the spot !

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS . 295

These were times when strenuous action wascalled for : when men had to take thei r couragein both hands ; and when sudden swift blows ,like Napoleon

s wh iff of grape-shot,

” were reallymost merciful .Presently we reached the foot h ills , and were

among that marvellous collection of wondersknown as the Himalayas ,

“ the place of snow .

They consist of ranges,i solated eleva tions and

giant mounta ins,intersected by water channels

sometimes large rivers , sometimes tributaries of

smaller size,and sometimes merely mounta in

streams , torrents , and cascades— all , however , rapidand tumultuous

,tearing their way through defiles,

ravines,and valleys in their passage to the plains

below. It has been stated that in the wholeexpanse of these mountain regions

,including

Tehri - Garhwal,Bri tish Garhwa l

,and Kumaon

,

there is no area in a valley sufficiently large tomanoeuvre a brigade of infantry . No picture cansuggest

,no pen describe

,the wonderful grandeur

and beauty of these h ills , replete with Nature’s

greatest and most imposing marvels ; and everyturn of the h il l - paths winding amongst them ,

and every summit gained , open up a new prospeet of wild subl imity. Standing upon somelofty summit

,the eye is wellnigh paralyzed by

the vision of the immensi ty and variety of thenatural phenomena presented : i t i s a very sea

o f mountains and ranges,broken up into a thou

sand billows flow ing to all points of the compass ,

296 THE SILENT INDIA .

uniting , dividing , and following straight l ines ,partial c ircles , and endless entanglements o f

mighty elevations . Some o f them are coveredwith dense forests

,others with only grass ; while

here and there are the frowning scarps of im

mense and rugged rocks . Occasionally also maybe seen a vast furrow on the side of a mountain

,

l ike a wedge cut out of a gigantic cake,marking

the site of one of the great landsl ips so frequentin these tracts . Many years ago , the author hadestablished a small field i solation hospital forIndian patients during an epidemic of cholerain a hill station . It was situated on a littleplateau close to a ravine. One of those heavyrainfalls (several inches in a day) which happenat intervals during the monsoon , occurred j ustafterwards

,and as soon as j ourneying was pos

sible,he and the Commissioner managed to get

down the h ill to inspect the place . The wholecollection o f huts , the plateau , the stafi

'

,and the

patients had all disappeared,and were never seen

or heard of again . Sometimes an area whichwould constitute a fair-sized Engl ish estate willsuddenly detach itself from a mountain andsubside into the va l ley below

,altering the whole

aspect of the countrys ide . The author remembers such an incident when a portion of the sl ip

,

a piece of'

forest land some two acres i n extent,

sl id down a thousand feet en ma sse— the treesstill standing almost upright upon it. A European and some nat ive servants watched the fal l

298 THE SILENT INDIA .

Ramayana we read,

“ in a hundred ages of theGods I could not tell thee of the glories of

H imachul .”

Quoting from Mr Sherring,

“ In

the small space reach ing from Nepal in the eastto the native state o f Tehri in the west

,and of

a breadth o f 30 miles along the Tibetan border,

there are grouped mountains wh ich collectivelycan find no comparison in any part of the globe .In th is small space there must be some 80 peakso f feet and over

,and studded in the midst

,

l ike diamonds among pearls , are some of theh ighest mountains in the world .

” 1 Nanda Devistands feet above the sea— the Trisulrange connected with th is is nowhere less than

and close by Nanda Kot — to thenorth -west we have Dunagiri — on the eastthe Panch Chul i ranging up to — and tothe east and north several other peaks rangingfrom up to feet. Nanda Devi i sthe loftiest mountain in the British Empire . Theperpetual snow - l ine here stands at someth ing like

— that is,approximately

,the height o f

Mont Blanc. Truly a fitting home for the GreatGods

,and it i s l ittle wonder that tradition and

legend should cluster round the ir mighty heads !The regular h ill-paths wander among the mountains and have necessitated no inconsiderableengineering skill in their construction ; winding ,as they do

,round spurs

,or zigzagging up the

more elevated h ills and peaks so as to avoid any1 Western Tibet andthe British Borderland. ’

300 THE SILENT INDIA .

Here we enj oyed a smoke,a l ittle rest and hot

an ising or shooting ; during wh ich interval thebaggage would have passed us and got wellahead . Then the balance of the march wascompleted

,villages inspected en route, tents got

up ,dinner prepared

,letters (not many ) and diary

written,and

,as old Pepys would say ,

“ and so tobed . All asleep by Thus

,usually riding up

the h il ls and walking on the flat or on a decl ine ,we wandered ou

,a shabby - looking crew , from day

to day ; Durga Dutt often l igh tening the tediumof the march by the recital of strange tales andlegends of the land . One

,the writer remembers ,

concerns th e fa ct that occasionally a ram is born inthe villages with four horns

,and is thereby recog

n ised as a sui table offering to the gods . If th eanimal be turned loose

,i t invariably wanders , i t

i s averred,towards and up the slopes o f the great

mountain Nanda Devi ; many of the countrypeople following it for days and weeks

,march ing

or halting as the ram is disposed to do. Whenit has reached a certain height “ the air becomespoisonous ” -that is

, too rarefied to allow of anyfurther ascent— and the people camp and wait ;but the animal proceeds higher and h igher , unti lafter some days its head rol ls down among themand they know the sacrifice i s accepted . Nowthe strange thing is that the story runs thatcertain of these followers of the ram have seenon the upper l pes of this lofty mounta in theskulls and bones of men of great stature

,which

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS . 30 1

have become petrified, or otherwise preserved fromdecay , by the rigour of the climate . The explanation assigned is that in long past times the Rajahof Kanouj in the pla ins , the greatest potentate of

that period , became so inflated with pride andvanity that he demanded the hand o f the daughterof the de i ty who reigns 0 11 the mountain , in marriage. Apparently , however, the a ll iance did notcommend itself to her father and was decl ined ;whereupon the Raj ah moved an immense armyinto the hills The mighty host cl imbed thegreat peak to the attack, but the god poisonedthe air

,

“so that they were all dead men

,

” andtheir bones are there to th is day , to witnessif I lie.”

So far Durga Dutt , but the writer has nevermet any one who has actually seen the bones

,nor

is there any evidence beyond tradition that theyexist . But Quatrefages , if the author ’s memoryserves

,mentions the slopes of the Himalayas as

the most l ikely places to find remains of theAryan people who crossed them on their way intoHindustan ; though most authorities surmise thatthe course they took was from Bactria over theHindu Khush and down the Kabul river unti lthey crossed the Indus . Still there might havebeen outlying parties

,or hapless wanderers into

the unknown . The size of the bones is of coursethe natural exaggeration common to all legends .Durga Dutt i s a respectable sh rewd man andvery careful in h is observance of rel igious cere

302 THE SILENT INDIA .

monies , but he appears to place a strange l imitation to the intell igence of the powers that be . Itseems that after his marriage

,a holy man pre

dicted that he would never have a son grow up ,

and as a matter of fact h is first two boys died ininfancy. He and h is wife then took counsel totogether

,and when the th ird was born

,he was

given a girl’s name and dressed l ike one , andh is hair permitted to grow down his back . Thisstra tagem , i t must be confessed , has up to thepresent time been successful

,and the l i ttle lad

was for some time with us on our j ourneys. Theanecdote will sound strange to many but

,indeed

,

the mental attitude of the common people towardsthe minor godlets and holy men is extremelyconfusing and difficult to follow ,

and as regardsHindu mythology in general , the average Europeanin India knows very l ittle about it.

It would require a volume to describe the variedvegetation . Among the trees are the sal , the oak ,

the “ toon,wild cherry and pear, walnut , chest

nut,sycamore

,holly

,i lex , h ill bamboo , &c.

, &c.

whole forests of the rhododendron , here a tree andnot a shrub

,and sometimes , in the spring , covering

a vast h i lls ide with a blaze of colour passing fromred below to fa int pink above— and pervading all

,

the great tribe of conifers . The last vary as

different heights are reached,and are found in

fa irly well defined bands at different elevations ;the “ ch ir p ine below , and then through firs,

spruces,yews

,larches

,cypresses , and others up to

304 THE SILENT INDIA .

age of the forest flashes across the eye like ameteor !Besides the large pheasants mentioned , there

are the cheer (P ha sianus Wa lli chz'

i ) , the“ kalij (Ga llop ha sis a lbocristams) , the

“ koklas ”

(P ucra sia ma crolop lza ) , &c.

,- all frequenting the

dense forests and very diffi cult to bag. The

pheasant,i f we come to th ink of it , i s one of the

most incorrigible of vagabonds ; for whereas fowls ,turkeys

,ducks , guinea -fowls , pigeons , and many

other birds have become completely reclaimed anddomesticated , the pheasant posit ively decl ines tobecome anyth ing of the kind

,and is

,as he always

has been , a den izen of the woods and forests.You may bring him up under a hen and offerh im every inducement to remain at home

,but he

obj ects to setting up a domestic establishment,

and as soon as he can is off to h is original habitat,

where,indeed

,he only really thrives .

The chukor (Ca ccabis chukor) i s a partridgevery like an Engl ish red leg ,

” and affords excellent sport. The Afghans call h im the fire-eater ,as he is said to peek at sparks of fire . Th is mayvery possibly be true , since graminivorous birdshave the habit of pick ing up and swallowing anybright or particularly hard stones which serve tohelp the triturating process carried on in thegizzard . An o fficer in South Africa told thewriter that when travell ing among the nativetribes in that country, he always adopted thepractice of the people and cut open these organs

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS . 30 5

in the fowls he purchased for food,and that 0 11

one occasion he found in one a diamond o f considerable value . He had a cutting from a Capenewspaper relating the incident . Many of our

English birds like the cuckoo,j ay

,or blackbird

,

or their first cousins,inhabit these h ills

,and greet

us l ike friends in a far land . It was the breeding time as we passed through

, so all birds werespared.

Then the fauna includes the tiger,bear

,le0 pard ,

wild mountain sheep and goats , the sambhur, andnumerous Cervidae

,including the l ittle musk -deer

with its bri ttle hair,wild dogs , great grey

monkeys or “ lungoors, martens , &c. , &c . Wesaw them but seldom , though the l ittle

“ kakar ”

or barking deer,probably yielding the best venison

in India,sometimes came to the pot.

Tigers are not often found far into the hillsindeed

,i t is doubtful i f a true h ill tiger exists

,

probably the stout heavy-legged animal one meetsis a descendant of a Tarai or Bhaber tiger

,which

has wandered into the mounta ins and becomemodified i n structure by its environment . Sometimes they become great terrors to the neighbourhood in which they have settled, and the authorremembers a man - eater that practically closeda main road for months ; destroying many people ,including the native runner with his spearfestooned with bells

,who represented His

Maj esty’s mail . Indeed , so bad were h is ravages ,that a company of Goorkhas— most fearless of

U

306 THE SILENT INDIA .

men and desperate o f poachers— were sent out toclear the hill

,but without success , and it was

eventually poisoned by a native “ sh ikari or

hunter,who put a ba ll into the carcase to save

appearances before bringing in the skin to claimthe reward . It was a handsome well -fed beast,not at all resembling the mangy old creatureswh ich more generally take to man-eating in theplains

,when their age prevents them catch ing

more agile prey. The black Himalayan bear isa dangerous brute

,sometimes attacking folk ,

especially women,without any provocation . The

hillman has no words sufficiently bad for him ,

and there is no villainy or vice not attributed toh im especially when he first comes down into thevalleys after h is long h ibernat ion in caves up inthe mountains . As in other parts of India

,he

is charged with paying dishonourable attentionsto Vi llage maidens whom he may encounter , butthe present writer , wh ile holding no brief for“ bhaloo ,

” must acquit h im of this accusation ;the origin of wh ich offers a field for considerableand uncharitable conj ecture . Normally subsisting on roots, wild honey , &c. , these animals areoccasionally carnivorous , and the writer knowsan instance of one o f them digging up a corpseand devouring it.

Hari Dutt , the melancholy , and not particularlycourageous , Indian doctor , had an unintentionallycomic story of a bear— best told in his own words .

When your servant was at the dispensary at

308 THE SILENT INDIA .

the dog,and was perhaps rather curious about the

strange appearance of the l ittle 80 -lb. tent .Panthers (the difference between which and

large leopards the writer has never been able toclearly make out) are not so common as in thej ungles in the plains and in Central India . In thelat ter localit ies they sometimes take to man-eatingwithout the excuse of the old tiger

,

1 and arevery dangerous . Unlike the latter, panthers andleopards will sometimes revis it kil ls ” for severalnights in succession

,but there is no telling how

these animals will act or whether they will evercome back at all .That fine deer the “ sambhur

,here known as

the “ j erow,is found , and sometimes carries a

large head . The “

ghural” frequents the grassy

and almost inaccessible spots on the hil lsides,

where “ thar,

”or mountain - goats

,may also be

met with . Away to the north the “ burhel ”

(Ofm

'

s wahura ) i s occasionally shot . Ghural

and “ thar ” affect the most awful places— thesl ippery grass-clad hi lls ide

,very likely terminating

in a precip ice with a fall of a thousand feet,where

a false step means almost certain death . Morethan once the writer has had to forgo a shot atthese animals when

,at the critical moment

,i t was

necessary to hang on by tooth and nail to theside of

'

the slope , and discard the useless rifle .

Whether the game is worth the candle is an Open

1 Captain Glasfurd th inks that young man - ea ting tigers andpanthers are taught the practice by a depraved mother .

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS . 309

question ,— certain it i s that muscles and nervesmust be at thei r very best when th is form of sportis indulged in .

The Himalayans indeed have,as Jerdon says

,a

double fauna , unknown in the pla ins : the one is

common to these mountains and to the h illyregions of Assam and Burmah ; and the other , i nthe h igher portions of the range

, is common tothem with Tibet and Northern Asia . It is veryvaried and extensive , and many species , of birdsespecially , have h itherto been found nowhereelse.The mass of the people in Kumaon and Garhwal

are said by Mr Sherring to belong to the Khasiarace

,speaking a dialect o f Hindi closely related to

the language of Raj putana,and to be probably of

Aryan origin. The impression created is that thepopulation consists of a great number of sub

divisions of the Brahman caste , a certain proport ion of “ bunneahs

”or shopkeepers

,and the

low -caste people called Dums . They are,except

in the northern port ion of Garhwal,of somewhat

poor physique,timid

,fairly intell igent

,but, when

educated,much given to intrigue . The great bulk

of the people,however , i s steeped in ignorance .

The women are frequently pleasing in appearance,

and,as Kipl ing says

,if a h ill woman is pretty

,she

i s often very pretty indeed ; but , except amongthe better caste people

,few of them are in any

way cultured,and they are low in the intellectual

scale. There is a clan inhabiting a few villages

3 1 0 THE SILENT INDIA .

i n the hi lls,among whom all the girls born are

devoted to a l ife o f immoral ity ; the men cultivat

ing the land and seeking the wives from othervillages . The women are quiet and well mannered and go far afield often l iving under theprotection o f raj ahs and others in the plains .They frequently amass considerable wealth , and onreturning to their homes in later l ife , sometimesdevote a portion of th is to the erection of resthouses for travellers

,and e ven to the building of

temples .Hill-folk

,as found in the villages

,have many

pleasant characteristics,and their cheery laugh

and open smil ing countenances impress one veryfavourably after the reserved demeanour of theresidents in the plains. The lower classes areextremely superst it ious , and every pass and hillhas its local spiri t to which offerings are made inthe form of little fragments of clothing hung on

the boughs of the trees . The dead are burnt , and ,i t is said , when from any cause the body of thedeceased person cannot be recovered

,they make an

image of grass of the dead and cremate it withthe usual ceremonies— otherwise the soul wouldassuredly go to hell . As Hinduism demands , apitcher from which water can fall in drops toquench the th irst of the small spirit of thedeparted (about the size of a man

’s thumb ) i shung from a peepul-tree. The material nature ofthe soul i s a very old and curious bel ief. Platocalled i t “ the ch ild with in Aristotle says it is

3 1 2 THE SILENT INDIA .

was to be the last for three days ; for our pipeswere hardly lit after its termination , before webecame aware of some great atmospheric disturbance occurring below us in the plains . We wereourselves sitt ing under a cloudless sky, in perfectpeace and content

,i n a scene of marvellous sylvan

beauty . Thousands of feet beneath us raged aterrible storm

,long remembered in that part of

India,and which almost wrecked a town o f con

siderable importance . Presently we saw that itwas advancing upon us

,and up the hills . It was a

wonderful sigh t,for the clouds

,black as ink , but

l ighted up at intervals by flashes o f brill iantl ightning

,lay below us

,and we looked down upon

their threaten ing approach . However,i t was no

time for admiration ; tents were hurriedly run upwith double pegs for the ropes

,trenches dug round

them,and everything got under cover. The

ponies andgrooms were placed in an ancient stoneshanty known as a “ dharamsa la ” and built forthe accommoda tion of native trave llers

,wh ich was

erected on the l ittle plateau . The thunder becamelouder and louder , the l ightning more constantand vivid , and before long the tempest was uponus. In half an hour one tent was wrecked

,and

the shelters , constructed o f leafy boughs,which

the villagers had put up for the servants , were allblown away. The rain fell in torrents ; we werefifteen miles away from any available building

,so

that there was noth ing to do but to stick i t out.For three days and nights that storm raged with

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS . 3 1 3

l i ttle intervals of abeyance. Luckily a smal lKashmir tent stood

,which we shared together .

But lighting a fire was impossible,and we sub

sisted on cheese and biscuits and what could beeaten raw , abstracted from the baggage atintervals when slight abatements of the weatheroccurred . The ground was flooded, a cold windhowled

,and the miserable servants struggled on ,

crouched in a sort of she lter made out of the ruinsof the wrecked tent . As usua l with Indiandomestics, there was no complaining or grumblingamong them

,but i t was a wretched time

, and

on the th ird evening we had a council of war,and

determined to abandon the camp and to strike outfor a traveller ’s bungalow, some fi fteen miles away ,next morning. And this we did , and on the waythere the sun came out , and when we reached ourdestination the weather was perfect.Now the incident would not be worth relatingbut for subsequent events . It so fell out that

,

years afterwards,the writer revisited the spot

,and

h is companion th is t ime was another officer, andthe servants hadall been changed . On arrival atthe camp

,j ust the same th ing occurred as on the

first occasion . There was the cooking going 0 11

under the sacred peepul there was the protestingheadman ; and again we finished our breakfastand put out our fire . The old shanty , with itsroof o f stone slabs

,still stood there as i t hadprob

ably done for fifty years , and,as before , the ponies

were stabled in it. It was a quiet , calm day , with

3 1 4 THE SILENT INDIA .

out a leaf stirring,when suddenly

,without the

least warning,the whole roof fell in

,and cries and

shrieks from the grooms rang out I We all turnedto , and after a good deal of work , managed toextract the men and ponies from the ruins . Allwere more or less crippled

,andi t was obvious that

i t would be weeks before they were fit to marchso there we were stranded , some sixty miles fromfresh mounts ! To our old native friend the casew as quite clear the god was seriously annoyed ,our kismet was bad , and this time the servantswere obviously frightened ; so next morning wetrudged down the h ill to another camp , leavingthe men and ponies i n charge o f the villagers .We had hardly reached thi s before the writer’sfriend was down with severe fever

,and , to make a

long story short,had to be taken back to a settle~

ment , carried on a nat ive bedstead.

This i s the tale for what it is worth . Of coursethe weak point is that the culpable cooks escapedwith absolute immunity

,but there is l ittle doubt

that the local god in the peepul-tree enj oyed a greatenhancement of respect in the neighbourhood asthe result of our disasters , and the traveller whovisitedthe spot would be told the story with duesolemnity IIn old days

,before our occupation of Kumaon

( the portion of the h ill tracts marching withNepal ) , the hardy inhabitants of the latter countrywere in the habit o f crossing the border and carrying into slavery what number of Kumaonis they

3 1 6 THE SILENT INDIA .

They are very picturesque both as regards theirposition and the character of their produce

,for the

l ighter green and yellow o f the crops rel ieve thedarker and more sombre colours of the woodland ,wh ile the deep crimson amaranth (Amaranthuscauda tusl with its magnificent plumes sometimessix feet m height and sown among

,or on the

borders of, the green cereals , adds a great deal tothe beauty of the landscape. The principal foodstuffs grown are the “ mandua (E leusine cora

cana ) , growing some three feet h igh , and re

sembl ing an erect grass with the seed carried ina head consisting of rather bushy spikes standingerect on the stem . The yield is heavy , but it isa coarse and unpalatable grain . Climbing aboutthe dwellings are various kinds of gourds , pump~kins, cucumbers , and melons , charitably coveringthe same to some extent. Pulses are sown in thefields the vetch ( Vicia samba ) , soy beans (Glycinesoj a ) , and many others wh ile r ice is grown in thevalleys and where irrigation is possible . The

species of th is grain in India are innumerable ;there are at least a hundred in Upper India alone .

There is spring,summer

,autumn

,and winter rice ,

of wh ich the last is the most important crop . Itis sometimes broadcasted

,but it i s more frequently

transplanted from a nursery into the fi elds whenthe plants are someth ing l ike a foot high

,and the

Operation produces a great deal of'

employmentto villagers

,in the rainy season

,all over the

country .

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS . 31 7

Following the banks of the smaller streams,

a pleasant,low , clattering sound sometimes reaches

the ear, and presently the wayfarer comes upon a

l ittle artificial water-channel apparently terminating at a small , low stone building from whence thesound issues. This is a water-mill

,where the

grain is ground . The water channel commencessufficiently h igh up the stream to give thenecessary fall , and the water is led down a shootso as to impinge upon the blades of a vertical shaftconnected with the revolv ing millstones above .

A l ittle hopper filledwith grain is kept sufficientlyagitated to automatically feed the mill

,by the

simple device of a short rod from the hopper passing over the grooved surface of the upper millstone

,and being thereby j erked up and down .

The whole arrangement is primitive in the extreme

,but is wonderfully efi

'

ective ,-working by

day and night if necessary,with very l ittle

attention .

In past times,before plague appeared in Bom

bay ,a disease know as

“ mahamari”

(the greatdisease) used to occasional ly break out in thesevillages , and spread with alarming rapidity .

Several investigations were made into the natureof the sickness, but those were pre-bacteriologica ldays

,and it has only recently been established

that this was the plague with which we are onlytoo familiar in the plains of India to-day . Specialand excellent orders had been passed in formerdays for the arrest of these outbreaks , several of

3 1 8 THE SILENT INDIA .

which i t has fallen to the lot of the writer to dealwith . An unusual mortal ity among rats (andsnakes) was the first intimation of trouble , and i twas commonly found on arrival at the spotusually some remote hamlet i n the heart of themountains — that the inhabitants had alreadyevacuated the dwell ings and were l iving in l i ttlestructures made o f boughs

,in the j ungles near .

Isolation was complete,since the residents of the

surrounding villages— they are very scatteredhad at once cut off all personal communicationwith the infected people ; even letters , suppl ies , andmoney being left on appointed rocks to be fetchedby them , Proceedings were drastic— fire was set

to the settlement and the whole burnt out— com

pensation being paid to the owners by the localauthorities . A ghastly detail in the arrangementswas the removal of the abandoned dead in thevacated huts

,for no one would touch them , and

the corpse had to be lassoed with ropes , draggedout to a suitable place such as a ravine , and thencovered with stones thrown upon it from a distance ! The villagers were kept in huts in thej ungles for a month after the disease had ceasedamong them , and were then permitted to returnto the ruins of their houses

,wh ich

,however , a

Very l ittle labour suffi ced to repair . Thesemeasures were invariably successful , and indeedthe experience was one of the reasons which induced the authorities to adopt such strenuousaction when plague first appeared in the plains.

320 THE SILENT INDIA .

large number of its v ictims from among the youngand strong . The dead lay in h eaps in the streetsor in the deserted houses , with no one to burythem

,and so deadly was the infection that once

the disease entered a house there was no hope of

escaping it .

1 Dr Gasquet tells us that for manyyears the whole country bore witness to the terrible ordeal through wh ich it had passed

,and

which had as disastrous an effect upon the moralsas upon the material prosperi ty of the people .”

Yet,as the same author points out, th is awful

visitation proved a turning-point in the nationall ife. It formed the real close of the mediaevalperiod and the beginning of the Modern Age .”

Such a large proportion of the labouring classeshad disappeared that the survivors could dictateterms to thei r employers , serfdom disappeared ,trade-unions were formed , and the lower ordersbecame a powerful body of men , strong enough towrest privileges by force from king and nobles .Religion also received a blow from which i t didnot recover for a long time

,and th is came about

in a curious way .

“ So few priests had survivedthe plague that the bishops were forced to ordainmere boys

,half-educated , and often wholly un

fitted for the care of souls. The bad example set

1 Sometimes the typ e was as badas this in India. The writer remembers plague breaking out in a house contain ing th irteen peoplewhere , on account of the wife of the owner be ing about to be confined,the evacuation of the build ing was delayed for some days . Elevenout of the th irteen occupants died of the disease—one of the twosurvivors being the newly-born infant .

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS. 32 1

by many of these men , the frequent scandals and

abuses in the Church,had a demora l is ing efi

ect

upon the people . At that time the seeds weresown that were to bear frui t in a future generation . There can be no doubt that the BlackDeath paved the way for the Reformation

,as

well as for a new order of things in the bodypolitic.”

Wending our way along , we met many typeso f people : the pilgrims from the plains alreadydescribed elsewhere ; the hardy Bhotia wrappedin blankets and dirty beyond description

,driving

h is flock of goats carrying boraX from Tibet inl ittle saddle-bags on their backs , and slouchingalong in h is woollen boots with string soles

,in

variably spinn ing wool into yarn by means of afall ing spindle as he went ; and on one occasionwe had afternoon tea with a family party fromTibet itself — a quaint entertainment , wherethe Lama who accompan ied it showed us the useof the praying -wheel and flags

,while we drank

(or pretended to ) a beverage composed of bricktea mixed with salt

,and churned up with butter

made from the milk of the yaks or“

J ibboos”

(across between a yak and a cow) which they hadwith them . This tea has often a red colour , dueto the leaf of a plant imbedded in the brick , andth is has stimulating properties which possibly tosome extent accounts for its popularity .

Every day had its own special and novel interest. Once we passed a tea plantation , appar

322 THE SILENT INDIA .

ently abandoned,but we presently discovered that

i t was being carried on , more or less , by a Chinaman who had been originally engaged andbrough tthere to look after and manage the place for aformer English owner . The tea plant

,which is an

evergreen,grows in l ittle bushes with flowers l ike

those of the white wild rose , and the leaves arealmost an inch and a half long , narrow ,

indented,

and tapering to a point . These are picked whenyoung at intervals

,or when “ flushes

”or new

growths occur,and are then dried and made into

the tea of commerce in the factories . The industrydoes not seem to have prospered in these b ills ,and a good deal of money has been lost in theenterprise . The fact seems to be that the earlierplanters (many of them retired officers and civilofficials) thought too much o f what cl imate wouldsuit themselves , and too l ittle o f what would sui tthe tea

,and they often settled in spots so far back

in the mountains that the cost of carriage to thepla i ns ate up most , if not all , of the

profits.

Those who have survived have devoted theira ttention of late years more particularly to thegrowing o f fruit

,especially apples and pears

,and

these can hardly be surpassed in qual ity andflavour anywhere ; but of course there is the samedifficulty here , the want of

'

a steady and conven ient market— and to be profitable , the orchardsmust be with in rea sonable distance of the railwayat the foot of the hills .A well -cultivated tea -garden

,with its terraced

324 THE SILENT INDIA .

lers,and by no means the local it ies which would

attract the modern mill iona ire,or the seeker after

comfort and enj oyment . The learned Linacrebrought the damask rose from Italy ; Thomas ,Lord Cromwell

,enriched our gardens with three

sorts o f plums Edward Grindal , afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury

,carried home the medicinal

plant the tamarisk and the Carew family introduced oranges . The cherry orchards of Kent werefirst started near Si ttingbourne by a gardener toHenry VIII

,and the exact locali ty is still called

Newgardens,” as the place .where the new fruit

was first grown . Lambarde , in the Perambulat ionof Kent ,

’ writes,i n h is account of Teynham (near

S ittingbourne) : Our hone st patriote RichardHarrys (frui terer to King Henrie the 8) plantedby his great cost and rare industrie , the sweetCherrie

,the temperate P ipyn , and the golden

Renate about the year o f our Lord ChristThe word cherry ” is derived from

Cerasuntis,” a city of Pontus

,where i t flourished.

Sir Walter Ra le igh gave us tobacco and thepotato ; S ir Richard Weston , clover grass ; Cardinal Pole , figs ; and Speman ,

l ime-trees. Mulberry - trees largely owe thei r cult ivation to thefostering care of J ames I .

“ Cos lettuces are socalled because they came from the island of Cos

the peach,pers icum

,or

“ mala persica,because

introduced from Persia ; pistach io ” nuts is theSyrian name for the fruit . The chestnut orcastagna is derived from Castagna in Magnesia .

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS . 325

Plums came mostly from Syria , and the damson isreally the damascene , or Damascus plum .

There are no doubt many minerals in these hills,

but the cost of transport to the pla ins below makesit difficult to say how far it would be profitable towork them . In former days the raj ahs of thecountry mined and smelted metals

,and away in

the north the writer was shown the ruined foundations o f

'

a Village on the side of a h ill,which

was said to have been once occupied by theexplorers after a coppe r mine . The story runsthat they had dug into the side of the mountainuntil the tunnel had almost reached the vein of

metal , and on a certain day the last blows were tobe struck to expose it— so with great rej oicing a

large concourse o f people , headed by a band of

music, marched in for the purpose . But unfortunately i t had been necessary to oust a faquirfrom the spot when the work commenced

,and he

had cursed the enterpri se with the usual consequences . Suddenly the roof o f the tunnelcollapsed between the j oyful explorers and theentrance

,and all were entombed . For seven days

and n ights those left outside attempted to digdown to the unhappy people imprisoned below ;guided by the sound of music wh ich the miserablecaptives kept up to direct attention to the properspot . Then all was silent ; the dej ected would-berescuers fled

,and the place was abandoned for

ever. Needless to say ,the spot is haunted .

A few natives may be seen on the banks of the

326 THE SILENT INDIA .

Alakananda “ cradling its sands in a primit ivemanner for a few specks of gold washed downfrom somewhere above

,but the profits are very

small .Sometimes we descended into the va l leys , for aportion o f the duties of the author consisted in theinspection of the hospi tals established along thepilgrims ’ route . These useful institutions owetheir origin to one o f the great administrators ofthe past a lready referred to

,General S ir Henry

Ramsay , the King of Kumaon as he was called ,Commissioner of the whole of these h ill tracts ,who

,observing the malversat ion of the wealth

left by p ious Hindus to the shrines of Badrinathand Kedarnath

,devoted a port ion of the income ,

with the consent of the religious authorities , tothe erection and ma intenance of these hospitals ,and the const ruction of iron suspension - bridgesand other conveniences for the health and comfortof the pilgrims. On the occasion of these descentsinto the va lleys , good mahseer ” fishing was oftenobtained ; though the sport was precarious , and a“ spate of cold water from above

,or a clap of

thunder , would send every fish l ike a stone to thebottom . The mahseer will take the fly ,

thoughin these parts l ive -bait and spoons are generallymore attractive ; i t shows good sport , i s very fa i reating

,and will sometimes run to a great size

even up to 70 lh. One of the best places iswhere a tributary , not originating from meltedsnow , j oins the roaring torrent of a glacier -fed

328 THE SILENT INDIA.

the mountam slopes and summits , perhaps that of

the valleys equals it in charm . The deep swiftrivers tear their way through th em in their rapiddescent— at one time swirling through a darkgorge between two hills , silent , and giving theimpression of i rresistible power ; at another ,broaden ing out to run more placidly betweenslopes of which the s ides are clothed with adense and varied umbrageous growth extendingdown to

,and overhanging , the water itself ; and

here and there again,threading their silvery way

through a great valley strewn with water-wornboulders

,where the decl iv ity i s less and the

stream wider and less rapid . In such a locali tythe angler finds pure del ight . The river hasprobably spli t up into numerous small waterways , leaving l ittle islands of sand and polishedstones between them

,and in some of the chan

nels the current is swift and clear and comparativ ely shallow. The broken water at the tail ofthese runs is a favouri te haunt o f th e “ mahseer ”

lying in wait for small fish and other food sweptdown by the stream . In such a spot , on one

glorious day , the writer and a friend brought tobank twenty-seven bright finny Victims rangingfrom one up to five pounds . Every few castsresulted in a run .

There i s no compromise about a mahseer’s ”

action he is e ither on the feed or he is not. Inthe latter case noth ing will tempt h im

,but in the

former he is a very glutton , fl inging h imself on h is

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS . 329

prey like a tiger. The bait with its agut tracedescribes a half circle as the current sweeps it outand down stream

,and just when the angler i s

about to wind up for a fresh cast, there i s a suddentighten ing o f

'

the l ine, the rod bends nearly double ,

the reel hums merrily , and the struggle begins .The first rush of a good “ mahseer ” is worth ex

periencing,and he will probably fight to the last.

The accepted idea is that he takes a minute a

pound to kill ; but although a twenty-pound fish

may he landed in twenty minutes , i t will take a

good deal more than five minutes to kill a fiv epound fish . The fly-fisher may look upon angl ingwith l ive bait and spoons with a certain amount ofcontempt

,but there is a good deal of skill required

in the proceeding to make the lure work naturally ,and produce a ful l creel . At all events , i t i s themost successful plan for these h ill r ivers andstreams

,and a day so spent with the fish on the

feed,in the midst of these del ightful and wild

surroundings and on the margin of the brigh tsparkling stream rippling over its stony bed , i s anexperience not to be despised by the most scientificdisciple of old Izaak .

Some years ago,a great landsl ip , common in

these tracts,filled up the bed of one of the

mountain torrents just where i t tore i ts way

through a deep gorge ; and a huge lake of waterformed beh ind the obstruction . It was evidenttha t when the latter burst , dire disaster wouldbefall the riparian villages below

,and the Govern

330 THE SILENT INDIA .

ment deputed a special engineer and h is staff tothe spot. He camped at the place , establishedheld - telegraph stations at the settlements downthe river , and took other precautions . Aftermany weeks of anxious watch ing and waiting , atlast unmistakable signs of disintegration ap

peared- the warning was flashed along the wires

to the threatened areas,and presently the whole

vast dam burst and crumbled away . A huge wal lof water swept down the river

,but so excellent

were the arrangements that,although whole

v illages and a considerable town were absolutelydestroyed , the loss of l ife was practically

“ nil .At th is time the flood rushed through the towno f Hardwar

,depositing the sacred fish from the

pool in the publ ic streets and the dwell ings ofthe inhabitants .

And so , in process of time,passing upwards ,

we reached the home of the Great Gods. Wewere among the Bhotias here— people o f Tibetanorigin

,interesting but extremely dirty folk , though

considerable allowance must be made for the disincl inat ion of people to bathe and wash in th isb itterly cold country . They practically enj oy amonopoly of the carrying trade between Tibet andHindustan ; conveying their merchandise— princ ipally borax , salt , and wool— on yaks ,

j ibboos,’

and goats over wild mountain - tracks and loftypasses. They sometimes call themselves Hindus ,but , as a matter of fact , are more Buddhist as

332 THE SILENT INDIA .

Leaving th is local ity and its savage grandeur,

we passed over the intervening ranges to thevillage of Josh imath

,where we abandoned our

ponies,and travelling , b id, P andkeswar, on a bad

road where the path at one t ime was over slabsof stone resting upon wooden stakes thrust intocrevices in a rocky wall overhanging a deep ravine ;and again over a bridge of consol idated snowbeneath which we could hear the roar of thewater ; we at length reached our goal — thewonderful shrine of Badrinath , where Krishnastood for a hundred years on one foot

,with arms

aloft,his garments thrown off, subsisting on air ,

and “ emaciated and with ve ins swollen .

” It i ssituated in a long valley leading to the village ofMana and the passes beyond , and was built in theform of a cave and surrounded by a cupola

,with

a sh ining roof of burnished copper wh ich looks l ikegold . In the winter the temple is buried undermany feet of snow. It i s of great antiquity

,

rumour stating that a shrine was here a thousandyears before Christ

,— but it was nearly destroyed

in recent years by an earthquake,

and wasalmost entirely rebuilt . At one time no lessthan seven hundred v illages belonged to thet rustees of the shrine . Close by is a thermalspring giving forth steam and a strong sulphuroussmell , and too hot to touch until i ts admixturewith the cold water from another adj acent spring ;and in the bath so formed

,the p ilgrims , men and

women,bathe together

,the wives knotting the ir

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS . 333

garments to those of thei r husbands— a repetit ion,

apparently , of a portion of the marriage ceremony .

The existence of th is geyser among the EternalSnows no doubt explains the origina l selection o f

the spot for the establishment of a shrine,for the

phenomenon must appear miraculous to the simpledwellers in the pla ins . Its surroundings aresubl imely weird and beautiful : the giant whitemountains towering all round

,a little gauzy cloud

o f driven snow hovering as ever round the i rsummits as if to h ide their mysteries from humanview— the solemn silence— the absence of life savefor fl ights of snow pigeons— the brooding stillnessand the impression of infin ite and ill imitable space ,

— all combine to produce an effect upon thespectator which can never be forgotten . The

traveller feels that it i s holy ground , and to standhere on a moonlight night and to note the solemnand commanding maj esty of Nature , inspires an

emotion of awe and a sense of insign ificance , probably nowhere else so fully real ised . Milton ’simmortal lines on the Creation instinctively occurto the mind

Immediately the mountains huge appearEmergent, and thei r broad bare backs upheaveInto the clouds ; the ir tops ascend the sky .

For chaos heard H i s voice H im all H is trainFo l lowed in bright procession to beho l dCreat ion , and the w onders of H is might .

Contrast thi s with what Max Muller gives in

334 THE SILENT INDIA .

Sanskri t Literature ’ as a specimen of the Aryanmode of thought

Yon bright skyWas no t, nor heaven’s broad woof ou tstretched above.

What covered all ? What sheltered ? What concealed ?There was no confine betw ix t day and nightThe only One breathed b reath less i n i tself

,

Other than I t, there noth ing s ince has been .P oets in thei r hearts d iscern ,

P ondering , th i s bond between created th ingsAnd uncreated .Nature be low and P ower andW i l l aboveWho know s the secret ? Who proclaimed it hereWhence

,whence th i s manifol d creat ion sprang ?

Who know s from whom th i s great creation sprang ?

This is the spiri t of the earl ier Vedic hymns .One seems not o f th is world— thi s work-a-day

world— and noth ing would surprise us. A mastodon might wander down the valley — the multitudeof holy Hindus who departed thi s li fe thousandsof years ago , and who , i t is alleged , reside in aninaccessible cavern in the mountain , might suddenly bear down upon us - Krishna might appearin h is uncomfortable attitude on a neighbouringpeak

,— and we should accept it all as perfectly

consistent with our surroundings . It is— wordsfa i l us— very beautiful , very uncanny , and verycold .

We watched the pious pilgrims at their devotions

,happy in thus reach ing the summit of their

hopes and desires , and oftering money , bangles ,and other ornaments at the shrine and wereceived a v isit from the Rawul , or h igh - priest

,

336 THE SILENT INDIA .

gratu itously and gloriously drunk over-night,andthen loaded them up and got them under wayin the early morning wh ile still obfuscated withthe results of the orgy. From thence , crossinglofty ranges beloved of the “ thar

,or wild goat

,

and with slopes famous for chukor,

” we reachedthe h il l station o i

'

Almora a few weeks later.It is impossible , after wandering with these

p ilgrims to these distant shr ines,conversing with

them,watching thei r patient zeal , and noting

the ir confidence and hope under circumstances ofmuch hardsh ip and risk

,to resist the conclusion

that the ir bel iefs are very real and deep l ooted ,and that m their though ts these people are verymuch what their forefathers were many generat ions ago . It is held by many (especially s i ncethe resuscitation of Mendel ’s v iews on heredity )that the natura l disposition with wh ich a childenters the world

,restrained though i t may be by

caution and fear of public Op i n i on from expressingitself in acts

,remains nevertheless unaltered until

he leaves it ; and since a race is but an aggre

gation of individuals , i t i s conceivable that itsintrinsic moral characteristics are modified withextreme slowness

,and probably never to any

important extent,despite the influence of what

the French call the “ milieu ,” unless the process

is hastened and facil itated by fusion wi th otherraces differently constituted . The admixturebetween Western and Indian peoples is so sl ightas to be almost negligible . Many thinking people

338 THE SILENT INDIA .

last of all , there are certain men towards whomh is attitude is difficult for us to grasp . They aremen undoubtedly

,but they are something more

than th is— something that General “ Jan Nikkleseyn Sahib

”w as to h is soldiers— something akin

to what the great heroes were to the Greekssometh ing wh ich saints ,

“ rish is,or even certain

Brahmans , are to rel igious communities . Theyare not regarded as infall ible , but they are notas other men . This attitude of mind is

,of course

,

the natural outcome of a bel ief in incarnations,

and the transmigration o f souls or metempsychosisa heritage from early Brahmanic times.The late S ir Alfred Lyall (under whom thewriter had the privilege of serving , and whosefriendship he had the honour to enj oy ) in AsiaticStudies ’ advances the theory that the new godsand demi - gods cont inually being recru ited andintroduced into the vast collection of deities inthe Hindu polytheistic system

,are commonly men

who have been distinguished among their fellowswhen on earth by remarkable qualifications, suchas valour

,wisdom , asceticism ,

&c. Their reputation is originally local

,and in l ife the genera l

feel ing of the people towards them is expressedin the phrase

,

“ This man i s the great power of

God .

” When such a man dies , i t is especiallyeasy for a community bel ieving in metempsychosi sand reincarnations to conceive h im as de ified. Ifa saint or hermit

,he is not burned but buried ;

a shrine probably arises presided over by a relat ive

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS . 339

or a disciple,and here miracles are ' presently

reported to happen .

1 In course of time those whoknew him on earth pass away

,until h is mundane

career is forgotten andhe only exists in the people ’sminds as a demi -god . As sa id before

,he is origin

ally a local deity , of whom the villagers are proudas be ing of themselves, and to be therefore especially worsh ipped as more l ikely to intercede forand help those of his own people . The increaseor decl ine of his popularity will largely dependupon the visible results of predictions and prayersmade at his shrine. The orthodox Brahman

,the

refined Vedantist of towns , looks coldly on thesenew recruits, but the local priest has to th ink of

'

h is l ivel ihood and status , and when the reputat ion of such a sa int becomes pronounced

,i t i s

not long before he finds an opportunity to givethe rough unfinished superstitions regarding himsome Brahmanical shape and varnish , and so i tmay sometimes happen in the course of time thatthe local hero

,sage , or saint finds h imself received

1 Not only the tombs and sh rines of Hindus,but sometimes of

Muhammadans andeven Ch ristians, are so worshipped . The presentwriter knows of one su ch Muhammadan shrine very largely V isitedby H indus. In past times many casualties occurred through thevotaries crowding into the cl ose unventi lated tomb, but an astuteoffi cial placed a large fan driven by manual labour (known as a

thermantidote) behmd the stru cture ; conceal ing it by planting a

dense grove of shrubs round i t- the blast of air be i ng driven i n toventilate the bu i ld ing through a h ole in the back wall . The reputation of the shrine has been much in creased by the proceeding, sin cethe cool fresh air in the interior i s regarded by the simple v illagersas the breath of the saint I

340 THE SILENT INDIA .

in or near the upper circle of the gods,and inter

preted as an orthodox emanation . We know fromTertull ian and Augustine that s imilar ideas prevailed in classic paganism . It can be readilyconceived how Brahmanical influence i s retainedand extended by such measures .This is not all . As the same author points out

,

men not only rise to be gods , but gods comedown and exhibi t themselves as “ avatars ” orincarnations

,and natural phenomena .

“ In th isstage o f bel ief, the people construct for themselvesJacob’s ladders between earth and heaven : themen are seen ascending until they become godsthey then descend again as embodiments of thedivinities ; insomuch that it may be almostdoubted whether any god, except the Vedicdivin it ies and the obvious Nature gods , comesdown the ladder who had not origina lly goneup the ladder as a man

,and an authentic man .

Again,

“ That the two sources o f theology meetand are blended together , there can be no doubt ;the Nature god sometimes condenses into a manand is precip itated upon earth the hero or saintoften refines and evaporates into a deity up inthe skies .” The polytheistic religion is comparedto a waterspout whereby a column is formed

, of

which the contents may appear to pass e itherfrom the earth to the skies , or from the sk iesto the earth .

Of course much mysti c legend weaves itselfabout the name of a saint, or deified hero , in

342 THE SILENT INDIA .

fice o f a ch ild still exists,and to give some notion

of the credul ity of the masses even to -day , i t maybe mentioned that a great fall ing off in theamount o f va ccination performed in the neighbourhood o f a large bridge then under construction

,was traced to a widespread rumour

that the Government was endeavouring to find

an infant in whose veins milk ran instead of

blood ; as it had been advised that the burialof such a ch ild under i t would ensure the

stabil ity of a pier which,

on account of thepresence of a quicksand

,was settl ing and

causing much difficulty .

That the extensive existence of such Viewsregarding the recruitment of deit ies and semideities leads to confusion and someth ing l ikechaos in a system of religion is obvious

,but

nevertheless such a creed admits of an elasticityand comprehensiveness which i s favourable to themaintenance of the same as a whole . The Hindutree

,with its deep roots founded on the Vedas ,

often throws off adventitious growths or sports ,”

but the priests o f the order not only train andlead them back so as to still form part of theoriginal stock

,but , to pursue the analogy , even

often actually so modify and adapt the plantsof the j ungle in its v icinity, that to the casualand confused eye the whole presents some aspectof uni formity

,and suggestion of a common origin .

The deities of other creeds , indeed , are sometimesadopted and absorbed. Buddha

,for instance

,has

THE HOLY LAND OF THE HINDUS . 343

been adopted as the n inth “ avatar of V i shnu .

Brahmanism , in sho1 t , i s astutely tolerant , throwing its aegis ove1 the crudest superstition

,

omodifying the same without offence

,and requir i ng but

a very moderate a l legiance in return for itscountenance .From what has gone be fore

,i t might be

assumed that a people holding such elastictheological v iews would be open - minded and

receptive as regards mundane affa irs ; but inreal ity the very reverse is the case . This isdue to the fact that a Hindu’s religion

,such as

i t i s , is inextricably bound up with every detailof h is existence . It is

,indeed

,more a great social

system than a creed . There is hardly an incidenti n h is da i ly l ife which is not mixed up with anact of worship or propitiation . What Westernscal l customs are therefore much more thancustoms — they are almost parts o f a ritual .The fact

,of course

,i s generally known , but is

not perhaps sufficiently recognised. Herein l iesthe secret o f the great V ital ity of Brahmanism ,

and the principa l source of the repugnance o f i tsfollowers to the introduction of foreign innovations and ideas . It perhaps suggests caution inmaking a ttempts in such directions . We haveno analogous conditions existing among com

munities in the West , experience o f which wouldhelp us to predict how such novelties would bereceived and viewed in the East . We cal l thesepeople unprogressive

,ignorant , and what not , but

344 THE SILENT INDIA .

th is i s hardly fair. They are fully appreciativeo f the material advantages of Western discoveriesand culture- as witness the popular ity o f railways

,and the way in which various conveniences

have been adopted ;— but at the back of theirminds i s the dread that change may bring aboutthe subtle disintegration of what constitutes thebed - rock of their bel iefs

,- the t ime - honoured

social -religious system of their forefathers . Andof course

,as the Brahman well recognizes

,such

fear is well founded .

Democratic institutions and the'

retention of

the caste system seem hard to reconcile , and thediscovery of a modus vivendi far to seek . Manypeople

,though perhaps not the best informed ,

th ink the last is doomed but much water willrun under the bridge before its d isappearance .With its abol ition

,Brahmanism

,that integral

part of Hinduism,must perish . But we may

remember that i t has absorbed Animism , routedBuddhism , and emerged perhaps stronger thanever from the fierce persecution of Muhammadanism . Where , indeed , today its foundations havebeen destroyed

,nothing imposing or substantial

can be honestly claimed to have been built uponits ruins— the result too often is merely somethingl ike desolation . We see , i t is true , some portentsin the sky

— revolts from priestly tyranny— therise of sects basing their bel iefs on the venerableteach ing of the Vedas

, &c . ,—but what their fate

will be still l ies in the womb of the future. There

XIII.

CON CL U S I ON .

THE considerat ion of questions of administrativeprocedure in India is outside the scope of thepresent l ittle work

,and

,moreover

,the writer does

not consider h imself competent to deal with such avery difficult subj ect . It may be safely stated ,however

,that the task o f those intrusted with the

destinies of the Empire is at the present time farharder than i t has ever been within the memory ofl iving man . The “ awakening of th e East ,

”so

long anticipated,has now really commenced .

Education is,of course

, the ferment which hasoriginated the processes

,analytic rather than

synthetic,of which we now see the inception ; but

in the vast crucible of the Orient are mingled suchdiverse and incompatible elements that what theconsequent reactions will be , no man can positivelypredict. All that we can surmise is that i f suchprocesses be natural

,they will

,arguing from

analogy,be slow — with the advantage

,however ,

o f producing permanent results . It i s perhaps a

CONCLUSION . 347

recognition of th is requirement that leads Westernstatesmen of a reflective mind to incl ine to wa i tupon events i n th is portion o f the globe .Although the progress of one Eastern nation hasbeen startling in its rapidity and extent

,i t would

be premature to conclude that the effect of th is onother Oriental races will be so immediate or w idespread as some people appear to suppose . India ,for instance

,we are informed by some unaccredited

diplomatists pursuing their scholastic studiesabroad ,

“ awaits the help of Japan .

” But therulers of the latter country are not possessed ofany more altruisti c sentiments than are held bypol iticians in other parts of the world ; and are

l ikely,moreover

,i n the near future to have quite

enough to do in looking after their more immediate interests nearer home . Japan ’s own

view of her mission in Asia,i ndeed

,i s , so far as

concerns India,described by Mr Lancelot Lawton

in h is voluminous and interesting work ,‘ The

Empires of the Far East,

as we ll representedby one of her leading publ icists , Dr Shiratori .After referring to the probable rise in power ofChina

,the latter writes : “ But with India the

case is different. India is a geograph ical ratherthan a h istorical name . Noth ing like national ityor any kind of strong affinity exists between themyriad peoples who l ive side by side under Brit ishrule . It is hard to see how i t is possible to forma united nation with the existing elements .Should India ever become independent , changes

348 THE SILENT INDIA.

requiring long periods must precede that consummation .

The awakening of China,again

,seems to be an

established fact , but , as has been pointed out , shehas opened her eyes more than once before , andhas again relapsed/into slumber. She will doubtless come fully into her own in time ; but the time ,fortunately for the West (and possibly for her old

old pupil) , i s not yet . Such at least was theopin ion of the late Sir Robert Hart

,than whom

no better authority on the situation can be quoted .

That the dry bones are stirring there can be nodoubt whatever , and the significance of the recentrevolution can hardly be mistaken

,but

,neverthe

less , so long as the mild tenets of the Confucianph ilosophy retain any effective hold on thethoughts of the people

,they will always serve

as a useful drag upon any extreme or anarch icmeasures .The impression conveyed from a consideration o fthe subj ect is that the progressive spiri t all overAsia is at present largely confined to an enlightened , but , in comparison with the total population ,small m inority

,—the real thoughts and wishes of

the inarticulate mill ions are practically unknown .

When the movement has become sufficiently strongand general to reach the lower strata of themasses and to bring them into the arena o f

politics,the results may be unexpected and dis

turbing. Progress,i n th is connection

,i t should

be remembered,principally means an awakening

350 THE SILENT INDIA .

i solat ion of India is a th ing of the past— thoughnot

,indeed

,of the very distant past . Regrettable

as the occurrence of recent agitation and disturbance i n India may be

,i t has at least served one

useful purpose,and that is to clear the a ir

,to

open Western eyes to the real circumstances o f

our grea t dependency , and to thereby enablestatesmen and the publ ic to put a proper valua

t ion upon the Opinions and utterances of more orless instructed persons who until qui te recentlyposed as oracles , and sought with marvellous selfsufficiency to direct the councils of the nation on

Indian affa irs. As all experienced officials know,

the problem of how to best govern Oriental peeplesbristles with difficulties ; though we may fairlyclaim to have come nearer to i ts solution than anyWestern Power has ever yet done . The fewremarks

,therefore , with which the present writer

has ventured to conclude th is l ittle work are madewith grea t difiidence . They possess no novelty

,

for they merely embody the v iews held by nearlyall officials when he first went to India

,and he i s

only led to record them by the conviction , afterth irty years’ service in the country (recently concluded) , that these opin ion s are j ust as sound today as they were when he first imbibed them

,long

ago,from his kindly wise old friends .

The officials o f the old regime , both civ il andmil itary

,who kept their districts loyal in the dark

days of the Mutiny , or speedily reduced them to

order and contentment after its suppression,were

CONCLUSION . 35 I

certainly not obsessed with any lofty though ts orpurposes concerning the changing of the nature ofthe Oriental , but were simply resolute practicalmen , very h igh -handed it is true , but with a veryfull recognition of what i s meant by noblesse

oblige. They would have probably nearly allfailed to satisfy the requirements of quite a merciful modern examination board . The directness oftheir methods would horrify publi c opinion inEurope at the present time though it does notseem to have had the same effect in the East

,for

we know tha t at least one of our greatest mil itaryleaders

,more distinguished for stern intrepidity

than graceful urbanity,was actually canonised

after h is glorious death by the admiring membersof an al ien faith . The duty of these men w as to

do justice , collect revenue , and to keep the i r sub

j ects (the term is used advisedly ) satisfied andloyal— and it must be acknowledged that somehowor other they did i t remarkably well . But theyenj oyed enormous advantages over their successorsto -day . When the bearer of Her Maj esty ’s Mailran

,armed with a spear festooned with bells

,over

hundreds of miles of wild and almost untrackedcountry

,and not infrequently concluded h is j ourney

in the stomach of a tiger instead of in a Secretaria tothee

,the Head of a district— the Collector and

Magistrate , or Deputy Commissioner— had leisureand opportunity to wander in camp about h ischarge

,and to really know ,

and be known to ,the gentry and the masses. He l ived for more

352 THE SILENT INDIA .

than half the year l iteral ly among the people .The white sheen of h is tents was the sign that themeanest ryot could plead his cause

,or lay his

grievance , before the great “ Sirkar ” (or Government) i tself— for to h im the Head of the districtwas the Government . Only Anglo-Indians knowhow greatly such a privi lege i s valued in the East .He spoke , and really understood , the p a tois ofthe rural classes ; he saw with h is own eyes whererevenue assessments could be j ustly enhanced or

reduced ; he knew the family h istories of thegreat landowners with whom he rode and shot hesettled many quarrels and arrested much mischievous l itigation with wise advice ; and innumerous ways brought home to the simple folkthe fact that the S irkar was not only a definiteentity

,but also their friend . Incidentally

,he

could explain the benevolent purpose of a Proclamation or a Resolution , and interview (withless than h is usual courtesy ) any individual whohad misrepresented its i ntent . The Indian i saccustomed to personal rule , and loathes bureaucracy. Greybeards under the peepul - tree stil llove to talk of the “

old sah ibs and their ways .What used to impress the writer was that theofi ce of the eulogized individual was hardly evermentioned— it was

“ Edwardes sah ib ,” or some

other stalwart of the past , who had gone down toposterity as a wise

,strong ruler , in h is own name

alone . It was the man they followed— as theywould (given the opportunity) again.

354 THE SILENT INDIA.

the people in their homes. It goes without saying that such o fficers should be most carefullyselected — mere sen iority should count for nothing.

It ordinarily takes years for a European to learnto th ink as Indians th ink , and to master thedifficulty of rul ing firmly and without offence . Itis given to some men to do th is almost instinctively

-others never acquire the faculty . As a distinguished administrator once said to the presentwriter

,some men can do anyth ing with Indians ,

and others noth ing .

” It seems to be far less aquestion of i ntellectual attainments than of personal character . But

,in any case

,i t is a sine

gud non i n developing the informed sympatheticmenta l att itude so essentia l for success , that theofficial should possess an intimate knowledge of

the language,religion

,thoughts

,and customs of

the races among whom h is lot i s cast — and this ,the author bel ieves

,can nowhere else be so fully

acquired as i n camp . Th is was the Opinion of theolder satraps

,and this the system upon wh ich they

worked — and that is why so many of them couldlead the people l ike a l ittle ch ild.

The watchword for rulers in Indi a today , i t i ssubmitted , i s to keep touch with the masses— notthe noisy minority in towns

,but the s imple voice

less mill ions who l ive in the Silent India,—who

constitute at least two-th irds of th e total population , and who furnish (the fact is worth noting)the recruits for the Indian Army and Pol ice .They represent a great latent power

,at present

CONCLUSION . 35 5

inert ; but they are impressionable and credulousto an extraordinary degree . Despite untowardincidents here and there , there can be no doubtthat the King - Emperor’s recent visi t has verylargely dispelled the mist which hung over theland

,— that vague feel ing of suspicious uncertainty

which is called “ unrest .” Every one now knowswe do not mean to quit the country

,—every one

feels h e i s not forgotten by the powers that be .

But we must,i t is feared

,make up our minds to

regard the existence o i'

sed ition as one of the permanent and serious difficulties wh ich the rulers ofIndia have to face . It was always more or lessthere , though it feared to raise its head ; but wehave in recent times manufactured a convenientmedium for i ts extended and vicarious exh ibition .

The disturbing element,however

,i s still compara

t ively small , and , given the requisite firmness,

i t should not be diffi cult to prevent its taintingthe masses to any grave extent . The men on thespot should be able to do it ; but , if th e writer

’sviews are correct

,i t i s absolutely necessary to this

end,i t i s repeated

,tha t they should mix more

freely with the people by constantly moving amongthem in the villages . Such progresses have beencustomary among Eastern rulers from time immemorial

,and

,i f properly conducted , should cause

no hardship in the matter of obtaining suppl ies ,81 0 . It is often said that times have changedand the fact is not l ikely to be disputed . Butthe masses have not changed—or very , very l ittle

356 THE SILENT INDIA .

and the thoughts and feel ings of the ruralclasses today are very much the same as thoseheld by their forefathers when the great adminis

trators of the past established their strong andbenevolent influence over them . Their aspirations

,

the ir ideas of proper government , and their conceptions of what goes to make l ife full and happy ,are all totally different to those held by the so

called educated classes . Their modest craving ,indeed

,would seem merely to be left a l ittle more

alone . This attitude is perhaps rather disappointing to the reformer

,but is part of a heritage

,it

should be remembered,which has been handed

down to them from the distant past,and is con

sequently not easily to be disturbed . To the manin the street (not necessarily obsessed with altru

istic sentiments , or particularly impressed withthe necessity of taking up “ the white man’sburden ”

) the position might appear to possessadvantages for a ruling power . The point of viewo f

"

the practical observer referred to is of courseopen to criticism . Still

,there is the fact (to

which he would probably attach importance) thatwith the Silent India contented , and its sonsloyally serving under the British flag,

we needhave l ittle fear for the safety of the IndianEmpire .

35 8 INDEX .

Ba lance of nature , 167Bamboo

,26

Barber , 32Barbet

,62

Bare-fallows,1 53

Barter , 249Bath ing at Hardwar, 2 14 -2 16Badrinath , 332Bears , 37 , 1 34 , 306Bearer , ” 221Benga l i , 6Benson , A. C.

, 34

Bitterns,1 62

Birth-rate , 92Bhaber

,291

Bheels andGonds, 136

Bh ima,1 99

Bhimgoda , 190Bh i s t i ” (water-carrier ) , 32Bhot , 289Bhotias

, 32 1 , 330

Ehow Begum, 72

Bhoots , ” 50Black -buck , 62, 1 43Black Death

,31 9-32 1

Boa constrictor , 65 , 1 89Bobbery pack

,98

Borax, 32 1Brachmans

,

” 2 1 1

Brahma,1 94 - 1 96

,288

Brahmans, 32, 197 , 2 1 4

Brahmanism , 342-345

Brahmapootra , 1 5 5Brick tea , 32 1Buddha

, 342

Buddh i sm, 203

Buddh ists , 39Buffa loes

,1 31

Bulbuls , 62Bunneah

,

”246 , 248 , 249

Burhe l , 308

Burra Imambara,68

Buria l,1 6 1 , 1 62

Burra-Sah ib , 83

Cacoosta Rajah , 72Ca l l of the wild ,” 1 7 1Campbe l l

,Sir Co l in , 66

Camping , 1 48-1 52 ; in b i lls , 299Camels , 1 48

Carts , 29Caste : andtechn ical education , 10potters , 29 weavers , 3 1 ; sweepers, 3 1 , 209 ; water carriers ,32 barbers , 32 Brahmans, 32 ,2 14 ; pig-tenders or Pasis (oftenwatchmen ) , 1 73 , 2 74 , 28 0 ; original castes , Brahmans, Kshat

riyas, Va i s1yas , and Sudras ,1 97 ; Brahmans and medicine ,1 97 weakening of , 197 ;bunneahs (or shopkeepers) , 246 ,248 , 249 castes in Hima laya s,309 democratic institutionsand

, 344

Cattle, 25Cawnpore , 66 , 70 , 77Centra l control , 349Chandras ,” 72Charity

, 3 1

Cheetul ( spotted deer) , 129Chélas

,

” 2 1 0

Chemical Analyst , 1 84Ch i ldren

,92, 1 76

Ch i ll ,” 1 69Ch ina, 348Chinhut, 66

Ch inkara ”(ravine deer ) , 143

Cholera , 33, 1 69, 208Chouth

,1 94

Chuckor partridge , 37, 304Chuckwa-chuckwee,

”1 63

Chula,

”274

Cicadas, 128Civi l Surgeon , 98 , 99Clans

,2 10

Claude Martin, 7 1

C louds andmists i n h i lls, 297C los ing bazaar , 84Cloth ing, in pla ins , 20 ; in h i l ls ,3 15 of Bhotias , 331Cobra , 182Coco-de-mer, 216Confucian ph ilosophy , 348Cornwa l l is , Lord, 1 6Corpses , 16 1Coots

,1 65

Court, of Lucknow , 70 , 7 1

Crane s and storks, 156Credulity of masses, 342

INDEX . 359

Crocodile s , 1 58 , 1 59, 1 6 1Crows

,16 1

Crops i n Himalayas , 3 16Curios ity of animals , 147Cypresses, 36

Dabch icks , 1 63Da co its 78 , 87, 88

Datura. (thorn apple ) , 50Death -rate

,92

Death -rate , infantile , 92Death penalty

,1 0 1

Degradation of women,93 , 94

De ifi ed heroe s, 340 , 34 1

Delh i, 200

Demo i sel le crane , 1 56Deodars , 36Deputy Collector , 78 Famlne

,3 , 5 , 33

Deputy Commissioner , 78 Fauna , of Himalayas , 305De sert Ph i losophers

,2 1 1 Faqu irs , 2 10 , 285 austerities

Democratic institutions, 344 2 1 6

Dhak ” (Butea f rondosa ) , 27 , 64 Feuds , 75Dharma

,199 F irs , 36

Dharmsa las,

”48 , 5 5 , 1 88 , 2 10 Flame of the forest,” 62

Dib s ,” 8 6 F lanne l , 1 69Doctor-baboo , 18 1 F l ies , 67Doab , 1 55 F l ighting , 1 66

Dowries , 93 F lorican , 1 45Draupadi , 200 Forestry , 9Drive

,1 25 Forest Department, 292 , 293

Dritarash tra , 1 99 Fossi l bones,300

Drunkenness,96 Foxes , 1 45

Dryads , 3 1 1 -314 Froissart , 3 19Duboi s , Abbé, 192 Furniture , 248Ducks , 1 62 Fyzabad , 65 , 7 1Duck-shooting , 1 64-1 66Dug-outs

,

”1 64 Gange s water , 2 19

Dun,1 88 Ganges , 6 4 , 1 60 , 1 87

Dunagiri , 298 G angootri , 220

Dungodhana , 199 Garhwa l , 35 , 295Garuda , 1 66

Eating and drinking,1 68 Gasquet , Dr , 320

Education 1 , 2 competitive Gautama Buddha , 64 , 203examinations , 7 unemploy Gavial ,” 1 5 8ment , 7 , 8 ; demands of edu Gee se , 1 57 , 1 58cated classes , 1 1 proportion of G erman ians,

” 21 1 -2 13

educated people , 12 ; fighting Geysers , 333race s l ittle educated , 13 ; de sire “Ghural , 37 , 308

for more power not confined to Gh i ,” 247educated classes , 1 4 ; wisdom G ioghis

(or J ogi s) , 212

of recent measure s i f safeguarded , 1 5 ; faulty l iteratureperused by educated classes

, 265

Education , technical : law , en

gineering, medicine , art,fores

try , &c .

,9 ; distaste for, 10

advantage of, 10 caste , 10Egrets, 1 5 7E lective inst itutions

,1 4

E lephants , 68Emblems , 335Engineering , 9Eterna l Snows , 297 , 298Evil Eye , 87 , 25 1 , 337Exportation of food , 4Extremists , 5 , 6 , 1 1

360 INDEX .

G lasfurd, Capt. A. J R Hinduism,194

1 47 , 308 Holderness , Sir Thoma s , 12G lobe-trotter , 79 Hookah , ” 91Gogra , 72 Holy Land, 288Golden oriole, 62 Hospital s , 45 , 100 , 326“ Gond ( swamp-deer) , 65 Home

,Sir A. D.

,V .C. , 66

Goomtee, 68 Hundés,289

Goorkhas, 6 , 14 4 , 305 Hussainabad, 7 1

“ Goparums, 69 Hyaenas,128 , 1 45

Gosains,”2 10

Govind Singh , 204 Immunity andpredisposition, 169,Gram ( ch ick pea) , 23, 170

1 53 Incarnations, 338

Granth Sah ib , 204 Indraprasthra , 200

Grebes , 1 63 Indian hemp, 96

Grif,

”79 Indra , 199

Grove s, 1 53 Indian Nation,

” 6 , 7Gurus ,” 204, 252 Indus , 160Gymnosoph ists , 2 12 Introduction of new plants into

England, 323, 324

Hadeth , 94 In stitutes of Menu , 1 96 , 198Hamadryad , 1 89 Irrigation , 24Hanuman , 203 Izzat,” 89 , 90Hari-k i -pa ir i

,1 8 8 , 190 , 207

Hardwar , 19, 2 1 , 43, 72 , 1 89, 1 90Hares , 144 , 1 5 5Harvesting , 22Hart, Sir Robert , 348Hariyal ,

”1 55

Hastinapura, 199

Headman , 33, 39, 73, 1 50 , 3 1 1Health : plague, 3 , 5 , 33 , 3 1 9 ;famine , 3 , 5 , 33 ; cho lera, 33,1 69, 208 ; malaria , 33, 1 66 ,

1 69 ; water-supply , 68 ; birthrate

,92 death-rate

,92 ; in

fanti le death - rate and causes,

92 ; vital statistics , 93, 1 77 ;smal lpox

,97 ; vaccination , 97,

98 ; hospitals , 98 -100 ; pilgr imhosPi tals, 326 ; medica l protes Ka1 las

,28 8

s ion, 1 00 ; eating and drinking , Kakur , 37 , 52, 305

1 68 ; flannel , 169 ; ch i ll , 1 69 ; Kulang ( common crane ) , 156immunity and predispos ition , Kal i

,1 95

1 69, 1 70 ; sanitation , 1 7 1 ; at“ Kal i-yuga

,21 4

fairs,209 ;

“ mahamari, 3 17 Kankha l , 190

3 19 ; Black Death , 3 19-321 Kash i (Benares ) , 188Herons

,1 5 7 Kedarnath , 43, 45 , 288 , 331

H imachul,1 87 , 298 , 331 Khadija , 94

Himalayas,288 , 295 , 296 Khalsa, 205

Jacanas , 1 5 6Jackals , 29 , 1 46 , 1 52Ja il , 10 1 , 235 , 236J a i l Department

, 101

Jains , 67J anam Ashtami

, 335

Japan , 347Jerdon , 303 , 309“ Jerow,” 37 , 308J heels 63 , 156

J hula, 208“ J ibboos, 321

J o int Magistrate, 78Jogi s, 210“ Juar

,

” 23,153

362 INDEX .

Home , V .C. , 66 ; ayah s , 66 ;annexation of Oudh

, 73 , 76 ;sepoys , 73, 74 , 76 ; S ir HenryLawrence , 74 ; Genera l Outram ,

74 ; General S leeman , 74 ;anarchy and feuds in Oudh ,74 - 76 ; Ta luqdars, 70 , 76 ;we l l at Cawnpore

, 77 ; GeneralJohn N icholson and Sikh s at

Delh i , 205 ; Genera l S ir HenryRamsay , 294Muezzin , 69

Nanda Devi , 298 , 300Nanda K6t, 298Nana Sah 1b

,64

Nawab , 70Nawabi (time of Nawabs) , 6 8Neem ,

”26

Newspaper,32, 184 , 260

N i cho l son,Genera l John , 205

Nirbanis, 2 10

N irmulas,”2 10

Nullah (ravine ) , 1 32Ny lghai

,

”1 37, 1 42 , 1 43

Offi cials of o ld régime, 350 -352

Omens , 1 80Opium

,95 , 96 ; poppy , 94 ; Depart

ment , 95Oudh

, 63 populat ion oi , 63 proportion o f Hindus to Muham

madans, 63 situation , 63

natural features , 63, 64 Lucknow

,Fyzabad , and Ajoodhya ,

65 ; Taluqdars, 70 , 76 annexation o i , 73 ; former conditiono f

, 75 ; Oudh Commiss ion , 77 ;Oudh Military Po l ice , 78 ; l ifein , 83 ; V i l lages in

,85 -8 7

“ dacoits , 8 7, 8 8 ; agricultur

ists in, 91 , 92 wo lf ch i ldren in ,

1 45

Outram,Genera l , 74

P acheesi ,”20 1

Pa lms,153

Panthers , 308“ Pandas, 1 92

Pandavas , 33 1

Pandu,1 99

Panch Chuli,298

Para (hog-deer) , 137Faranas , 3 1 , 72, 196, 198Pariah dogs , 29 , 152Partridges

,1 55 , 304

Parrake ets,24

Pas is ( swineherds ) , 1 73, 274 , 280Pathans

, 6“ Patwari , 32

Paths , in h i lls , 298Peacock

,129

Peasant proprietors,1 6 , 1 7

Peepul,

”28

, 31 1

Pe l icans,1 57

Pensions , 70Persona l character , 354Persona l e lement , 353Pheasants , 37 , 303, 304P ietro de l la Va lle , 2 13P ig shooting

,1 4 1

P ig sticking , 1 40P lgeons, 1 45

P i lgrimage , 1 87, 206, 288P ine s , 36P lague

,3 , 5 , 33 , 319

P lovers , 1 5 7P lutarch , 327Po in ciana , 62Poinsettia , 62Po l ice

, 12 , 270 Superintendentof, 78

Poorhouses , 31Population : of India

,6 j ungle

tr ibe s, 7 percentage under

British Government , 12 ; of

Oudh, 63 characteri stic s o f, in

Oudh, 73 ; former condition of,

in Oudh, 74 , 75 ; of Sikhs , 206 ;

moral characteristic s of Hindus ,336 ; real nature ofHindus, 337 ,338 credul ity of masses , 342Poplars , 36Porpo i se s

, 16 1

Port Sai d , 1 07Posta l andTe legraph Departments ,

Poshteen , 289

Potters , 29P ratisthana, 72

INDEX .

Preserver (Vi shnu ) , 1 88 , 335Progressive spirit

, 347-349

Provincia l Councils,15

Prisons,235

,236

P ryag (Allahabad ) , 187P unchayets

”(village councils ) ,

9, 33 , 39

Purdah ,” 1 8 1“ Putties ,’ 290

Quai ls , 1 45 , 1 55Quatrefages , 30 1

Rabi ,” 22, 23Rabie s, 1 46Ra i lways

,222 -226 , 232

Raja Suja ,” 200Rajputana , 72Rama , 72, 202, 203Ramayana , 198 , 202

Ramsay , General S ir Henry, 292 ,294 , 326

Raptee , 64Ravana , 203“ B awn l

,334

Reh ,”63

Red Sea , 1 10

Registration of birth s and death s,93, 1 77Re l igions : Mohurrum, 1 1 Animi sm

, 39, 3 1 1 , 344 ; Kedarnath ,43 , 45 , 288 , 331 Badrinath , orBadrinara in

,43, 4 5 , 288 temple

at , 332-336 ; bath ing at , 332 ;Sh iva

,43

,194 , V ishnu ,

-1 96 avatars,

195 , 338 , 340 , 345 ; Krishna , 4 5 ,252

, 332 ; Gautama Buddha , 64 ,20 3 Jains , 67 Rama , 72 , 203Koran

, 94 ; Trimurti , Brahma ,Vi shnu , and Sh iva , 1 94 - 196

r ishi s,196

,338 Buddh ism ,

203 ; Hanuman , 203 ; S ikh re

l igion , 204 ; Babe Nanuk , 204Granth , 204 ; Gurus, 204 :

Kumbh and Adh-Kumbh , 207 ;Brahma , 1 94 - 196 , 288 ; Dryads,3 1 1 -3 1 4 ; shrines and tombs

,

339 ; de ified heroes , 340 , 34 1 ;Brahmanism , 342-345

363

Sa cred bulls,29, 191

Sadhus,

”46

,4 7 , 2 10

Sahet-mahet, 64Sakya Mum , 203

Sa lt,38 , 24 7

S a l igrams,”335

Sambhur, ” 37 , 133, 305Sand grouse , 1 45Sanitation , 1 7 1 , 209Sarus crane , 62, 1 56Saraghari , 205

Sarasvati , 1 87Sanskrit , 1 96Sanyasi s ,” 2 10 , 2 1 1Sediti on , 5 , 1 1 , 35 5Sepoys , 73, 74 , 76Sita , 203Shah Jehan , 1 63Shakespeare , 1 72Sha rks , 1 12Shastras , 1 98Sherring,

1 95 , 298 , 33 1

Longstafi ,335

Sheeshum,

”26

She ldrake s (Brahminy ducks ) , 1 63

and

Re ligious asceticsandmendicants ,43 , 4 7 , 1 88 : Ba iragis, 207 , 2 10 ,276 ; j ogis , 2 10 ; sanyasis , 2 10 ;gosains, 2 10 sadhus

,2 10

faquirs , 2 10 : chélas, 2 10 ; re

l igious orders , 2 10 ; akharas ,2 10 ; dharmsa la s, 2 10 ; De sertPh i losophers , V anaprasthas and

Sanyas is , 2 1 1 Brachmans, 2 1 1

Germaniens,2 1 1 ; G ioghis or

j ogis,2 12 ; austerities oi , 2 16

faquirs , 274 , 28 5Residency , 65 , 66Rh inoceros

,65

R ice , 3 16R ig-Veda

,1 96

R i sh i s,196

,338

R ivers,1 59- 16 1

B oomi Darwasa,68

Rotations,23

Roya l V l sit,4 , 5 , 355

Rhododendrons , 36 , 302Runjeet Singh , 205Ryotwari

,

” 1 6

364

Sh iva (or Siva) , 43, 1 94 , 196,288

Shiratori,Dr , 347

“ Sh ikari , 126 , 130

Shujah -ud-Dowlah , 7 1Shock , 1 68Shrines and tombs

,29 , 339

Sikh s : 1 8 Baba Nanuk,first

Guru , 204 ; Oppression o i,by

Muhammadans,204 ; Granth ,

204 ; Guru Govind Singh , 204 ;army of the Khalsa

,205 Sara

ghari,205 Runjeet S ingh , 205

Guru Teg Bahadur , story of,205 ; population , 206Singh , 204

Siva (see Sh iva)S iwal iks, 1 8 8

Sleeman , General , 74 , 145Sma llpox , 97Snakes , 1 60Snipe

,1 68

Snowy Range , 1 89 , 297 , 298Socia l functions , 82Soc ial system ( in Hinduism ) , 343Solar myths , 202Soul

,material nature of , 3 10

Sport : 125 ; in Hima layas, 37 ,303-308 ; in Oudh , 98 ; tigershooting , 125 - 13 1 tiger stories ,1 32 , 1 33, 137 , 138 ; bears , 1341 36 , 306 , 307 ; stalking, 136 ,1 38 - 1 40 ; accidents in big gameshooting , 135 , 136 ; pig sticking and shooting , 1 40 1 42 ;

riding nylghai andwolve s , 1 42antelope stalk ing , 1 43 ; hares ,144 ; wo lve s, 1 45 ; qua i ls , 145 ;foxes , 145 ; jackal s , 146 , 1 52 ;rabies

,146 curiosity 0 1 animal s

,

1 47 wild dogs , 147 camping ,1 48 - 150 ; des irabi l i ty of, 352

35 4 Postal and TelegraphDepartments , 149, 150 ; tents ,149 ; nights in camp , 1 5 1 , 1 52 ;camping in Himalayas

,289, 299 ;

a spect of Doab , 152- 156 jheels,1 56 ; cranes, stork s , and geese ,1 5 6-1 58 ; usual wild -fowl , 1621 63 ; duck shooting, 1 64-167

INDEX .

snipe shooting, 168 “ ca l l ofthe wild ,” 171

Spruce s, 36Squirre l, 203Stalk ing big game, 136 , 143Strabo , 2 1 1Subtlety , 234Sudra , 1 97Suez Cana l , 108Superintendent of Pol i ce, 78Suriyas,

”72

Suttee ,” 192Swarga, 202Sweeper

,

”3 1 , 209

Syed Ahmad Khan , Sir, 13

Taj Mahal , 1 63Taluqdars,

”70 , 76

Tamarind , 28 , 62Tara i , 291Tea plant , 322 ; plantation , 32 1323

Teal s, 1 62Teg Bahadur , Guru , 205Tehsi l ,” 270Teh si ldar ,” 87, 270Tents , 149Tertullian , 340Terns

,1 57

Thana , 270

Thanadar , 270

Thar (mountain goat ), 37, 308Tharoos

,291

Tigers in h1 l ls , 37 , 305Tiger shooting , 125 -1 31Tiger stories , 132 , 133, 137, 138Tobacco, 23, 38Todar Mul , 2 14Tortoi se s (water) , 1 6 1 , 191Touring and camping, 353Towns : Hardwar , 43 , 72 , 188

1 92 ; Hari-k i -pa iri , 1 88 ; bathing at sacred pool , 2 1 4 - 21 6 ;

Lucknow, 65 Res idency , s iege

of, 65-67 ; buildings in Luck

now,

68 , 69 population ,character of, 69, Court of, 70 ,7 1 ; Fyzabad , 65 , 7 1 ; Ayoodhya , 72 ; Cawnpore , 70 , 77 ;

P ryag (Allahabad ) , 1 87 Kash i