CHAPTER XI.

Birds on the Rampage.—Familiar Nuisances.—Silver-Spoon Thieves.—Doctrine of Metempsychosis.—Various Nationalities forming the Population.—Common Languages.—Tamils are the Wage-Earners.—The Singhalese Proper are Agriculturists.—Queer Belief in Demons.—Propitiation!—The Veddahs.—Attacking Wild Elephants.—Serpent Worship.—Polyandry.—Native Singhalese Women.—Dress of Both Sexes.—Streets of Colombo on a Gala Day.—An English Four-in-Hand.—Mount Lavonia.

Birds on the Rampage.—Familiar Nuisances.—Silver-Spoon Thieves.—Doctrine of Metempsychosis.—Various Nationalities forming the Population.—Common Languages.—Tamils are the Wage-Earners.—The Singhalese Proper are Agriculturists.—Queer Belief in Demons.—Propitiation!—The Veddahs.—Attacking Wild Elephants.—Serpent Worship.—Polyandry.—Native Singhalese Women.—Dress of Both Sexes.—Streets of Colombo on a Gala Day.—An English Four-in-Hand.—Mount Lavonia.

After becoming weary of the snake exhibition, it was suddenly remembered that we had been cautioned to close the windows upon leaving the sleeping apartment, so we hastened thither to see if all was as it should be. Upon entering the room, we were greeted by the presence of a score of dark-feathered creatures,—crows or rooks, whichever you please to call them,—handsome, familiar, notorious birds, whose black, shining plumage was daintily shot with blue, disposed here and there in cool, unblushing possession of the premises. Each exposed article of dress had been duly overhauled and pecked at, then dropped in utter confusion upon the bed or floor. A few soft biscuit, which had been left in a plate upon a table, had utterly disappeared, while a sugar bowl which had accompanied the morning cup of coffee was overturned and the contents devoured. One pillow-case had been relieved by some means of its contents, and hung from the topof the bedpost like a flag of truce, as though the enemy wished to stay all hostile proceedings. In short, the room had been raided by the rooks. They understood the first movement made to drive them away, and sailed gracefully from the room through the window, quite calm and unruffled.

There is any number of these dark-plumed free-booters all about the streets and dwellings, eagerly on the lookout for just such a chance to impose upon thoughtless strangers. They fly in and out of open doors, lighting confidently upon the back of one's chair at mealtime, trying curiously the texture of his coat with their sharp bills. No one molests them or makes them afraid. They are far tamer than our domestic fowls, as they are never killed and eaten like hens and chickens. A Singhalese's religion, as has been said, will not permit him to take animal life. All animals are sacred to a Buddhist; even snakes and vermin have nothing to fear from him. As to these Ceylon crows, one regards them with a full sense of their audacity, but the birds themselves do not seem to be at all annoyed by such scrutiny. Cocking their heads on one side, parrot-like, they coolly proceed to look you out of countenance. Their mischievous and vicious activity is temporarily suspended during your presence, but no sooner is one's back turned upon them than their reckless antics and thieving propensities are resumed with increased vigor.

One of their favorite tricks is to purloin silver spoons, being attracted perhaps by their brightness, and as they are not able to consume them, though like the ostrich they can eat almost anything, they seek some unfrequented piece of ground and dig a hole with their sharp claws, wherein they bury the stolen property from sight. The employees of the Grand Oriental Hotel are obliged to keep a sharp lookout for their table-ware, as anything small and bright at once challenges the curiosity of the crows, and is liable to be stolen by them. They are most adroit thieves, and watch with cunning precaution for a chance to perpetrate any sort of mischief.

There is another reason besides that of a religious prompting which leads to the protection and toleration of the crows in this island. They are the recognized scavengers of the city of Colombo, just as vultures are permitted in Vera Cruz, where they are protected by law, for a similar purpose. Not a scrap of carrion escapes the voracious appetites of either species of these birds. All such matter cast into the street instantly disappears, while, if left exposed to decay in the hot sun, it might prove pestilential. It is remembered that the question seriously suggested itself at Vera Cruz, which was most to be deplored, the presence of the uncleanly, disgusting vultures, or that of Yellow Jack, as the prevailing epidemic is called in southern Mexico.

"Why don't they kill these nuisances?" asked oneof our fellow travelers of another, while he impatiently drove away a crow from the back of his chair in the hotel at Colombo.

"They have too much respect for their dead relatives," was the reply of a companion.

"Dead relatives?" queried the first speaker. "What has that to do with it?"

"Very much. These Singhalese are believers in the doctrine of metempsychosis."

"Who?"

"Metempsychosis; that is, in the transmigration of the soul from human bodies into animals."

"Don't see where that idea comes in," said the obtuse querist.

"Why, if a fellow killed one of these impertinent rooks, don't you know, he might be murdering his dead grandmother!"

These Buddhists of Ceylon believe that departed spirits who have behaved badly in human shape reappear in the form of domestic animals or birds, and those who have done well are turned into wild animals. The most dreadful fate is held to be the reappearance in life in the body of a woman, a sad and significant reflection upon the treatment to which they are universally subjected.

The Singhalese and Tamils are the most numerous among the population of Colombo. Mohammedans, Malays, and Parsees, as intimated, are also here in considerable numbers, mingled with representativesof other nationalities. The Mohammedans are best known as Moormen. Though in the far past of the island's history Ceylon was so long and so intimately connected with the Celestial Empire, the author did not even chance to see a Chinaman on the island, though at the north and elsewhere in the several provinces these Mongolians are to be found. In their migrating westward, the race cease to establish a foothold in numbers beyond Penang. This latter island, as well as that of Singapore, is dominated by them, the small trade of both places being wholly in their hands. But beyond the Malacca Straits, they have not made their way westward to any considerable extent.

The Singhalese language, which is soft and flowing, is founded on the Sanskrit, an evidence in itself of the antiquity of the people. Tamil is the language of southern India, and is used here by the Moormen as well as by the Tamils proper. There is a Portuguese patois still spoken by European descendants and half-breeds, while the Dutch language is quite unknown, though that people remained here nearly a century and a half after the Portuguese were driven out of the island. The English tongue is becoming more and more common in all populous centres like Colombo, Trincomalee, Kandy, and Point de Galle. The Singhalese are nearly always Buddhists, while the Tamils, as a people, are Hindus. The latter, as we have said, are the wage-earners of the country, working alongshoreat the wharves, loading and unloading ships, belonging to the coal barges, and the like. The Singhalese proper take higher rank; the sort of occupation accepted by the Tamils would not on any account be adopted by a Singhalese. Caste is imperious and imperative, though it is strictly discountenanced by the religion of the people, and especially so by the English government, which does not fail to exercise its influence against it.

The Tamils, being light of body and used to laborious occupations, make the best jinrikisha men,—the small, man-propelled chaise,—trotting off in their almost naked condition with the speed of a horse, while drawing the vehicle and its occupants behind them. They rival in fleetness the little gigs or hackeries, as they are called, propelled by small and active brahmin bulls, gayly decked with tinkling bells. Some of the zebus, with their humped necks, deep dewlaps, silky hides, and deer-like limbs, are really handsome creatures. These gigs with their peculiar animals, and the jinrikishas drawn by Tamils, are striking and novel features to a stranger when he first lands at Colombo, unless he comes from the East. The idea of the jinrikisha is borrowed from Japan, but that of the small bullock cart comes from India, where they are common all over the country. It is surprising to see with what ease and speed these little creatures will trot along the smooth roads, guided by reins attached to a ring which passes through a hole in the cartilageof their nostrils. There is a larger breed of cattle which are imported from India for farming purposes, but most of those in common use are the small ones we have described. Both are of the zebu breed. A certain number of the larger ones, like elephants, are kept in the temples of India and worshiped as sacred animals. It will doubtless strike the reader that there is a certain degree of inconsistency in using these cattle as beasts of burden, twisting their tails to elicit a high degree of speed, and in kneeling solemnly before the same creatures as sacred when they are kept within the walls of the temples.

The Singhalese proper make very good mechanics, and can imitate a delicate model when submitted to them, equaling the Chinese, whose fidelity in this respect has passed into a proverb. They are specially expert in the manufacture of wooden boxes from choice material, inlaid with ivory, tortoise shell, mother of pearl, and the like; but above all else they pride themselves as a people upon being agriculturists, a planter's occupation being considered as fitting for the highest caste to engage in. It is in the cultivation of broad rice-fields that the Singhalese is seen at his best. This occupation he fully understands. A predilection for it seems to have been born in him; his forefathers have followed the business for centuries, and success in this line of occupation means to him independence and plenty. All classes of the natives of Ceylon are full of superstitions, and supporthundreds of demon-priests, who thrive upon the foolishness and fears of the masses. Incantations of the most extravagant character are the principal means used by the priests, who are also called doctors, and who pretend to relieve sickness and pain by barbarous means, such as hideous dances, beating of tom-toms, blowing of horns, wearing hideous masks, and other devices. All this nonsense is popularly supposed to drive away the evil spirits who cause the sickness.

The Singhalese believe that all ills in life are inflicted as punishment, and that evil spirits are the agents of Providence to apply the same. They think that they are under penalty not alone for sins committed during their present lives, but also for their wrongdoing in some previous state of existence. They may have been "rogue" elephants, thieving crows, vicious buffaloes, or vile cobras, all of which is quite in accordance with their creed as promulgated by the Buddhist priests.

They seem to have no skill whatever in the treatment of the most simple illness. The author has never, even among the most barbaric tribes, quite isolated from contact with white men, known a people so deficient in this respect. Some few of the Singhalese planters regularly set aside a small portion of their rice-fields, and leave them unharvested, for the use of the demons! It is intimated that the priests manage to secretly reap these portions for their ownbenefit, representing it to have been done by the evil spirits, whose good-will has thus been secured in behalf of the credulous planter. The base and groveling superstitions and credulity of the natives of Ceylon are simply disgusting. There are said to be three thousand devil-priests supported in the island, living with unblushing assurance upon the ignorance of the masses. How closely akin is all this to the Roman Catholic priests, who pretend "on liberal terms" to pray departed souls out of purgatory.

Does it not seem extraordinary that the idea of worshiping or propitiating some powerful evil spirit should prevail almost universally among barbarous and half-civilized races? It is not the force of example which inculcates such an idea, since the author has met with it as a native custom among various tribes situated as far apart as the poles. The Alaska Indians, the denizens of "Darkest Africa," the Maoris of New Zealand, and the cannibal tribes of the Fiji Islands, all yield more or less to this instinct. Nor were the Indians of North America devoid of an equivalent custom when the European settlers first came among them. It is only natural that all people, civilized or otherwise, should be exercised by an instinct leading up to the worship of a great Heavenly Father of mankind, but the belief in the existence of an opposing and more important power, which must first be propitiated, is certainly assingular as it is universal among the barbarous races of both hemispheres. When visiting the famous temples of Nikkō, in Japan, the author saw a priest sitting before a temple in the open air, beside a collection of prepared pine chips with which he was feeding a small fire upon an open stone slab, and accompanying the burning process by beating at intervals upon a tom-tom. On inquiring as to the significance of this singular ceremony, we were sagely told by the native guide that the priest thus solicited the good-will of the god of fire, who was very powerful and inimical to man, unless his favor was frequently sought by such means.

"How terrible it would be," added the devout Japanese, "if he (the god of fire) were to consume these sacred temples," pointing as he spoke to the unique group of buildings so elaborately ornamented, which contain such priceless hoards of rich bronzes, carved images, and delicate lacquered ware.

The sacred temples of Nikkō are in their way quite unequaled in the world, having, with other remarkable attractions, the consecrating influence of great antiquity. The oldest Japanese bronzes are valued at their weight in gold; indeed, that precious metal forms a large percentage of the material of which they are composed. Modern bronze, as compared with that of ten centuries ago, in Japan, is a very different and inexpensive compound.

Any person who has been at sea in a severestorm when there were Chinamen on board the ship has seen the superstitious Mongolians throw bits of "joss-paper" overboard, bearing certain inscriptions and mysterious characters, intended to pacify the water-devil, as they call the spirit of the storm.

A peculiar race of wild people, called Veddahs, inhabit the forest fastness of Bintenne, a district situated southeast from Kandy forty or fifty miles, and a hundred and twenty or thereabouts from Colombo, in a northeast direction. The territory to which these people confine themselves is known as Vedda-ratta, or country of the Veddahs, whither their ancestors retired more than two thousand years ago, when their Singhalese conquerors came to Ceylon from the north. Bintenne, which gives its name to the district, transcends Anuradhapura in antiquity. Long before the Wijayan invasion, it was one of the chief aboriginal cities, and for centuries was the most important place in Ceylon. During the Dutch dominion Bintenne was made a place of note, and is spoken of by them as "the finest city in the island." It is now remote, a circumscribed and secluded district; very few Europeans have ever penetrated any great distance within its borders. Indeed, the density of its jungles forbids access to those who know not its solitary footpaths. The singular people of whom we write are now inconsiderable in number, speaking a language understood only by themselves, and are doubtless descendants of the aborigines of the island,a race who lived here previous to any dates of which we have record. The country which they inhabit is about ninety miles long by half that distance in width, in the southeastern part of the island, and extends towards the sea from the base of the mountain region of the central province, commencing near the base of the Badulla hills. There is abundant evidence connecting these barbarians with the Yakkos, who were the oldest known race in Ceylon. They live mostly upon the game which they kill with bows and arrows. They build no regular habitations, live in caves, grass huts, and the open air, and avoid intercourse with all other tribes, especially the English. They are an undersized people, the men being only five feet in height on an average, and the women still less. Their neglect of any sort of ablution is a marked feature of their habits, while their intellectual capacity is placed, by people who have taken considerable trouble to inform themselves upon the subject, at as low a gauge as possible in human beings. In the matter of cleanliness, the wild animals about them are more civilized than they, their long, tangled, unkempt hair adding to their weird, uncanny appearance. What little intercourse they have with other people is almost entirely by signs, and they seem to be either disinclined or unable to talk intelligently. They are said to be wonderful marksmen with bow and arrow. As they practice constantly from boyhood, this is but natural. With the exception of the knife, the bowand arrow is their only weapon of offense or defense. It is thought that there are not over a couple of thousand Veddahs now in existence, an aggregate which is annually diminished. They are still accustomed to the most primitive ways, producing fire, when it is needed, by rapidly turning a pointed stick in a hole made in perfectly dry wood, their bowstrings acting as a propeller in twirling the stick. This is a sure but laborious way to obtain fire. It is a fact which has been commented upon considerably, and which is perhaps worthy of mention in this connection, that, in many important particulars, these Veddahs are very like the wild native tribes of Australia. This is not only evinced in certain physical resemblances, but also in their hereditary habits, their unwritten tongue, and some other particulars. Much is made of these facts by certain writers on physical geography, who have a theory that in the far past Australia was joined or was adjacent to Ceylon, notwithstanding the wide reach of ocean which now intervenes.

These wild people of the district of Bintenne are divided into two communities,—the Rock or Jungle Veddahs, and the Village Veddahs, the latter living nearest to the settlements on the east coast, dwelling in cabins built in the rudest manner, and cultivating some simple grains and vegetables, while the former remain in the depth of the forest, roaming hither and thither, and avoiding all contact with civilization. They are said to have preserved this isolation andmanner of living from the earliest period of the island's history. They supplement their other food with various edible roots, wild fruits, and honey, adding lizards, roasted monkeys, and venison. They are not Buddhists, and have no hesitation as to the taking of animal life, or in eating the meat of bird or beast. It is said that they eat freely of carrion, or decayed animal substances, with perfect impunity,—like the Arctic races, who live largely upon putrid whale blubber in the summer season; in winter, it freezes so solid as to keep it from putrefaction. The wild elephant would seem to be too powerful an animal for these poorly armed savages to attack, but it is not so,—they do hunt him, and successfully. Their mode is to lie in hiding near what is known as an elephant path until one makes his appearance, and as he passes, at a favorable moment, when he lifts his foot nearest to the hunter, a short steel-headed arrow is shot into the soft sole. When the animal stamps his foot with pain, he only drives the shaft still deeper into his limb. The poor beast soon lies down, in his agony, and in this climate a wound festers with great rapidity. The huge creature cannot bear his wounded foot to the ground, and sinks upon the earth, after great suffering, in a helpless condition. The Veddah huntsman then approaches, and with a well-aimed spear, thrust where the spinal marrow and the brain unite, the creature's misery is ended, and he quickly breathes his last.

It is said by those who are well informed about these wild people, that their best huntsmen are less cruel and equally successful. The plan they adopt is to lie in wait near a spot frequented by the elephants, probably some watercourse where they come to drink. At a favorable moment, the huntsman, being only a few yards off, sends a steel-headed shaft into the brain of the huge beast by aiming just upward behind the ear, whereupon the elephant falls lifeless upon the ground.

At certain seasons, these people bring honey and dried venison to the frontier, with an occasional elephant's tusk, and exchange them for cloth, hatchets, arrowheads, and a few simple articles which they have learned to use. They have no circulating medium like money; they could make no use of such. They seem to have no idea of God or Heaven, and erect neither temples nor idols, though a sort of propitiatory devil worship is said to prevail among them, the real purport of which is quite inexplicable. Like other tribes of whom we have spoken, they appear to have an idea that some invisible evil power is antagonistic to them and their well-being, and that their safety lies in offering homage in some form to that power. Of any supreme influence for good, they have no conception. They have heard of the white man's God, but believe their Devil is far more powerful. Like the humbler class of Italians, they have a mortal dread of something equivalent to the "evil eye."Such was an explanation given to us by an intelligent Buddhist at Kandy, who had once been a priest.

The worship of the serpent as an emblem of divinity has been attributed to the earliest inhabitants of this island, but the Veddahs have no such faith. One of the most ancient among the multiplicity of names which Ceylon has borne is Nágadipa, or "snake island," in reference, it is thought by some, to this special worship of the aborigines. To the author, however, it seems much more reasonable that the name may have arisen from the great number of these reptiles which were, and which still are, found upon its soil. There are still some tribes in Ceylon who reverence the serpent as an emblem, and who actually devote temples to them, as the Hindus have done to bulls and monkeys for ages.

The Veddahs are considered to be utter barbarians, but we very much doubt if many of their customs are any more barbaric than some which prevail among the Singhalese. Take, for instance, the revolting practice of polyandry, which is still countenanced in Ceylon. This custom, so strange and unnatural, has existed here for thousands of years, and longer still in India proper, as well as in Thibet and Cashmere. History tells us that this odious custom was common in Britain at the period of Cæsar's invasion. It is said to be dying out in this island since the advent of the English. Let us at least hope so, though the author was informed upon the spot that it was notunknown among the natives of the Kandian district at the present time. Conventionality has all the force of enacted law. Vice and virtue, it would seem, are relative terms, both being amenable to latitude and longitude. There is a custom among the Alaska Indians, deemed by them to be simply a rite of hospitality, which would consign a person to state prison if perpetrated in New England. Is there not also a legalized system of social debasement in Japan, so utterly vile in our estimation as to be absolutely unmentionable in detail?

We have not yet in reality departed from Colombo, concerning which a few more words should be added before taking the reader inland to "imperial" Kandy in the central province among the hills.

Colombo is an especially well-regulated and well-governed town. No reasonable fault can be found with its police arrangements, for notwithstanding the singular variety of nationalities gathered together within its limits, one witnesses no lawlessness; there are no visible improprieties of conduct, but quiet reigns supreme, both in the Singhalese and in the English quarter of the capital. The most lawless element here is the crows, and one must admit that these audacious creatures are irrepressible.

The native women of the middle class whom one sees in the city are singular objects as regards costume, and appear as if engaged in a constant masquerade, being decorated in the most striking manner.They wear silver and brass rings thrust through the tops and bottoms of their ears, through their nostrils and lips, their toes sometimes being also covered with small gold coins attached to rings. Their ankles, fingers, and wrists are decked with bangles and rings, while their diaphanous dress is of rainbow colors. The author saw women, who were acting as nurses to the children of European residents, wearing all these gewgaws as described, the gross weight of which must have been considerable. Some of these women would be good-looking, not to say handsome, were they less disfigured by the cheap jewelry which they pile upon themselves, without regard to good taste or reason. It is an ingrained barbaric fondness for trinkets, which it would seem that they never quite outgrow, as women old and decrepit indulge it to the utmost limit of their means, thus thoughtlessly adding by contrast to their worn and wasted appearance. As to their being employed as nurses in the English officers' families, there is a certain degree of fitness in that, for they are very faithful in this relation; they are naturally loyal to their trust, and as a rule have excellent dispositions, so that the children become very fond of them.

The men wear their jet-black hair long, done up with a circular shell comb in front, which keeps at back from the forehead and temples, and often have a high shell comb at the back of the head to keep the coil together, all of which gives them a most feminineappearance. The women do not wear combs at all, but braid their profuse ink-black locks, and twist them into a snood behind the head, a certain quantity being formed into puffs like bow-knots, and the whole kept together with long metallic pins, having ornamental heads of brass or silver. Like the Japanese women, their hair is so arranged as to be very showy, and they take great pride in its appearance.

This passion for covering their persons with gewgaws is as old with these people as the ancient city of Anuradhapura, where the same custom prevailed among the Singhalese two thousand years ago. The abundance and beauty of the precious stones found in the soil of the island naturally led to their being mounted and worn by the wealthiest people. This fashion was imitated, as usual, by the humbler classes to the very limit of their means. If the latter could not afford the genuine article, they were obliged, as they are to-day, to be satisfied with cheap imitations.

The rank and file of the common people, clad in various colors, form a brilliant panorama in the streets of Colombo on a gala day, mingled with whom are itinerant exhibitors of legerdemain, snake charmers, hustling dealers in gewgaws, peddlers of bonbons, native women bearing baskets of fruit on their heads, and naked Tamil laborers,—living bronzes,—on their way to the wharves. All phases of life are represented. An occasional blind and decrepit native is seen, guided by a small lad, who solicits pennies withwhich to purchase a little rice and curry, as the boy says in broken English. The most persistent beggars of all whom one meets in the thoroughfares are the Buddhist priests, who extend a dirty brass dish for alms, while mumbling some unintelligible gibberish. An occasional stranger and some humble natives respond to his appeals by contributing a few pennies, but the aggregate of his collection must be very small.

There dashes by us, while we watch the scene, a gay party of English residents in a four-horse drag, bound to Mount Lavonia. This is a pleasant resort five or six miles from Colombo, on the coast line, where there is a very good public house, built originally for a private residence by a former governor of the island. It stands upon a promontory some fifty feet in height, which juts out into the sea, washed on either side by the waves of the Indian Ocean. This hotel is a conspicuous white building, and forms a familiar landmark for inward-bound vessels. It is much cooler at Lavonia than at Colombo, as the location is more open to the sea breezes, besides being upon an elevation.

Let us also invite the reader to embark upon an excursion; but in place of hugging the sea coast by means of a coach and four, we will turn our faces inland by railway toward the olden capital of Kandy, in the heart of the island.

The Ancient Capital of Kandy.—An Artificial Lake.—The Great River of Ceylon.—Site of the Capital of the Central Province.—On the Way from Colombo to Kandy.—The Tiny Musk-Deer.—The Wild Boar.—Native Cabins.—From the Railway Car Windows.—The Lotus.—Destructive White Ants and their Enemies.—Wild Animals.—The Mother of Twins.—A Little Waif.—A Zigzag Railway.—An Expensive Road to build.—"Sensation Rock" with an Evil History.—Grand Alpine Scenery.

The Ancient Capital of Kandy.—An Artificial Lake.—The Great River of Ceylon.—Site of the Capital of the Central Province.—On the Way from Colombo to Kandy.—The Tiny Musk-Deer.—The Wild Boar.—Native Cabins.—From the Railway Car Windows.—The Lotus.—Destructive White Ants and their Enemies.—Wild Animals.—The Mother of Twins.—A Little Waif.—A Zigzag Railway.—An Expensive Road to build.—"Sensation Rock" with an Evil History.—Grand Alpine Scenery.

Kandy, the Maha-neura, or "great city," of the Singhalese, one of the ancient capitals of Ceylon, is beautifully situated in the bosom of the verdant hills in the central province of the island, just about half way between the east and west coasts, a little more than seventy miles north of Colombo. Here the town nestles on a bend of the Maha-velle-Ganga ("great sandy river"), which nearly surrounds the old city at a distance of three miles from its centre. It became the capital of the island in 1592. As it was repeatedly captured and burned by the Portuguese, Dutch, and English, it presents no architectural monuments with any pretension to antiquity. Here we are about seventeen hundred feet above sea level, beside a spacious, though artificial lake, which represents a small portion of the grand system of irrigation for which Ceylon was so famous through a score of centuries. There is no natural lake worthy of thename in the country, though there are numerous ponds, large and small, here and there, especially in the southern part of the island. In the centre of this large sheet of water, with its charming aspect of repose and freshness, is a tiny island, where the last king of Kandy, who was a notorious tyrant, established his harem with true oriental lavishness. It is now improved as a safe place for the storage of gunpowder and other explosive war materials. At least, it was formerly thus appropriated, though perhaps it is not so now. The infamous sovereign referred to, Sri Wikrema Raja Singha, at whose death ended a long and famous line of kings, was outrageous beyond all precedent. He was accustomed to behead any one of his counselors who dared to disagree with him, also wreaking his vengeance upon the individual's innocent family, males and females, by treating them in a similar manner.

The immense tank at Kandy is of modern construction, having been finished early in the present century by the king whose name we have just given. The heavy embankment which holds the lake in its bed has been made into a broad and most charming esplanade, decked with handsome shade trees, thus surrounding the basin with an inviting driveway and promenade, enlivened by choice flowering shrubs, whose names only an accomplished botanist could remember. Among them the ever-fragrant cape jessamine is conspicuous, together with beds of violetsand mignonette. Palms prevail everywhere on the island, with their bare trunks reaching sixty or seventy feet upward, at which point they throw out their deep green, gracefully drooping foliage in thick clusters. The lake is about three miles in circumference, encircled by a low stone wall, and is, judged even by modern rules, a remarkably skillful piece of engineering.

The Maha-velle-Ganga rises in the base of the neighboring mountains, and, flowing past Kandy, turns to the north, finally discharging itself by several mouths into the ocean far away on the east coast, near the port of Trincomalee. It drains in its course upwards of four thousand square miles of territory, being a hundred and thirty miles long, and is navigable by small boats nearly to Kandy. The hills which encompass the town make of it a verdant amphitheatre, and are themselves dotted with flourishing tea-plantations, mostly owned by English agriculturists, the growing of tea, as already explained, having largely superseded, or perhaps we should say supplemented, that of coffee throughout the island. In the higher regions, near the foot-hills, where the big river rises, there used to be a great coffee district, healthy and populous; but alas! malaria and jungle fever lie crouching upon its lower banks like a beast of prey, ready to pounce upon the passing and incautious traveler, while hungry, wide-jawed crocodiles lie half-concealed in the low mangroves, ready to snap up anydog or young native child which thoughtlessly approaches their domain. The Ceylon crocodile is a large animal, quite common on the inland rivers and deserted, half ruined tanks, and frequently measures over twenty feet from the snout to the tip of the tail. In the malarial districts, all sorts of insects, reptiles, and wild animals thrive and multiply abundantly, but to man, and even to most domestic animals, such regions are poisonous.

The reason why the river-courses in Ceylon are so unsalubrious, so fever-inducing, is easily explained. These waterways overflow their banks in the rainy season, depositing an accumulation of vegetable matter which remains to decompose when the river subsides, thus infecting the surrounding country. The banks of swiftly flowing streams are considered to be healthful localities, but they do not prove so in this tropical island. The Maha-velle-Ganga, which is the Mississippi of Ceylon, is no exception to this rule.

In coming to Kandy from Colombo, the railway for the first forty miles threads its way through a thinly populated region, over a level country which is often so low as to be of a marshy nature, though the soil is marked by overwhelming fertility. About fifteen miles from the capital is Henaratgoda, where the government Tropical Gardens are situated. Here the process of acclimatization for exotics is tried with plants which might not thrive at the altitude of the Botanical Gardens of Peradenia, near Kandy. Therailway stations, it will be observed, are all beautifully ornamented with tropical flowers adapted to the situation. This is getting to be a universal custom all over the world. Even in Russia, on the line between St. Petersburg and Moscow, every depot is thus beautified. The railways are a government monopoly in this island, furnishing a handsome revenue. There are no presidents to swallow up salaries of fifty thousand dollars each, nor other ornamental officials receiving enormous sums of money for imaginary services. At each station in Ceylon, pretty children of both sexes offer the traveler tempting native fruits. They are very interesting, these children, in spite of their unkempt hair and entire nudity. Their big black eyes are full of pleading earnestness and bright expression, while their dark brown skin shines like polished mahogany under the hot rays of an equatorial sun. The land seen on the route is interspersed by rice plantations, groves of palms, bananas, and plantains, while the jungle at intervals is seen to be impassable, the trees are so bound together with stout, creeping vines and close undergrowth. Hump-backed cows and black swine, with an occasional domesticated buffalo, are all the animals one sees, though there are a plenty of wild ones not far away in less populous districts, including bears, deer, leopards, and elephants. The buffalo is almost an amphibious animal, and may be seen for many hours daily nearly immersed in the ponds, lakes,or rivers, only its head, horns, and nose visible above the water. Thus he will lie or stand for any length of time, chewing the cud like other creatures of his kind, until hunger compels him to seek food on the dry land. Happy for him if he be not attacked, while thus exposed, by the voracious pond leeches, more fatal than the flies which he strives to avoid by thus immersing his body. The elephants are still numerous, notwithstanding so many have been exported to the continent hard by. A carefully prepared estimate published at Colombo last year (close of 1893) places the probable number of wild elephants in Ceylon at five thousand. It is also believed that the small numbers of these animals which are now shot by Europeans annually will not decrease this aggregate, because of the natural breeding which is all the time going on. There are also found here in abundance the wild boar, jackal, ant-eater, and a great variety of monkeys (the latter afraid only of Europeans), and the cheetah. This last named is an animal of the leopard family, nearly three feet in height, and six feet long from nose to tail-tip, but exceedingly active and over-fond of monkey-flesh. It is of a dun color, with round black spots distributed uniformly over the body.

The tiny musk-deer, so called, though it has no musk-bag or scent about it of that pungent nature, is indigenous to Ceylon. There is a stuffed specimen in the Colombo museum, but the author did nothappen to see one alive. It is only about twelve or fourteen inches long and ten high when at maturity, but it is formed exactly like a full-grown North American deer or antelope, having a gray hide dappled with white spots, like a young fawn. Its exquisite delicacy of limbs is very beautiful. Several attempts have been made to transport a pair from this island to the Zoölogical Gardens of London, but the little creatures have never survived the voyage. They prove to be as delicate in constitution as in physical formation.

We have incidentally mentioned the wild boar, to hunt which is a sport that has brought nearly as many Englishmen to Ceylon as has that generally more attractive and much larger game, the wild elephant. Strange to say, the boar, weighing on an average not much over two hundred pounds, has proved quite as dangerous and even more formidable in conflict than the huge monarch of these forests. The quick-witted, cool, and experienced huntsman can avoid the giant elephant when he charges,—he is necessarily sluggish on account of his size; but the wild boar is swift, fierce, and armed with tusks sharp as a dagger's point, which he uses with the adroitness and rapidity of a skilled swordsman. Sir Samuel Baker says that he has killed these animals in Ceylon weighing over four hundred pounds each, and has seen them here even much larger. The boar is hunted with trained dogs, and is scarcely ever drivento bay without seriously wounding and often killing one or more of the pack. The hunter does not shoot at the boar when at close quarters, lest he should kill the dogs hanging to the animal; but the true form is for him to close in upon the fight and bury his long knife in the creature's vital parts. Practiced sportsmen aim to bury their weapon just back of the ears, at the junction of the brain and spinal marrow; death to the boar is then instantaneous. Sir Samuel Baker, who was an inveterate sportsman, had many narrow escapes in wild-boar hunting in Ceylon, and was more than once seriously wounded.

The natives inland, as observed on the line of the railway, live in the simplest and rudest of huts, mostly formed of bamboo frames filled in with clay baked in the sun. The thatched roofs consist, as usual in this country, of large palm leaves braided together, one layer lapping over another, thus effectually excluding even equatorial rains. The eaves come within three or four feet of the ground. There are no chimneys nor windows in these primitive abodes, but the doors, which are always open, admit light and air. The natives only sleep in them; during their waking hours, they are always under the blue sky. Each native builds his own cabin, which rarely consists of more than one apartment. In its erection no nails are used; the several parts are tied together with rattans and stout vines, which become like rope when they are once dry. The climate is souniformly warm that many do not even plaster their walls with clay, using palm leaves and boughs of trees to form a sufficient covering. A sheltered situation is chosen, so as to be protected from the weather when the monsoons blow, for these natives have a fixed aversion to the wind and rain. There is a certain harmony between the primitive simplicity of these people and that of surrounding nature. To the casual observer, as he passes over this route between Colombo and Kandy, there is an unpleasant suggestion in the surroundings of possible jungle fever. The thick, low-lying, tangled woods and stagnant pools one would think must be the very home of chills and fever. They would be so considered in continental India, or in the south and west of our own country; yet the people hereabouts do not seem at present to suffer from any special form of ill health. The men are thin in flesh, but muscular and cheerful in aspect. They really seem to enjoy life after their dull, animal-like fashion, though their principal occupation is that of working in the wet rice-fields, an employment which no European can safely pursue. The latter, in fact, never become sufficiently acclimated to be able to live in low and swampy districts in Ceylon without contracting malaria, the effects of which last through a lifetime.

When this railway was being built, the coolies employed in the work died by hundreds from the unwholesome character of the neighborhood, until therule was adopted of returning the laborers after the day's work to Colombo to sleep, bringing them back again after sunrise. It is the damp night air which prevails in the lowlands, and its attendant miasma, which proves so fatal. One after another of the European overseers and engineers sickened, and were compelled to return home to England before a restoration to health was effected; while some, apparently the most hardy, and who took the best of care of themselves, succumbed altogether, and were buried in the island far from their native land. Better drainage and cleared jungles have greatly improved the sanitary conditions. The dense forest has been opened to the influence of purifying breezes and the effect of the genial sunshine, so that there is much less chance for the pestilence to find a breeding-place.

Banana groves, with the trees bending under the weight of the rich, finger-shaped fruit; tall cocoanut-trees, the tops heavy with the nutritious food they bear; stout tamarinds and juicy mangoes; ant-hills, looking like young volcanoes, half as high as native huts; rippling cascades; sharp declivities; glistening pools; white cranes; tall pink flamingoes, standing like sentinels on the muddy banks; an occasional monkey leaping among the trees; golden orioles, gaudy-feathered parrots, and other birds of dazzling hues, are observed with never-flagging interest from the windows of the slowly moving cars, while on this inland route to Kandy. The marabou, which is somuch prized for its delicate feathers, is occasionally seen stalking watchfully by the shaded pools, seizing now and then upon small reptiles with its formidable bill and devouring them at a single gulp. It seems strange that these birds can swallow with impunity snakes and other vicious reptiles while they are yet alive. One would think that creatures whose bite is often fatal to human beings would under such circumstances cause a fearful state of commotion in a bird's crop. If ostriches, however, can swallow and digest large nails, jackknives, and corkscrews, perhaps the gastric juices of these smaller birds may have special properties to aid them in effectually disposing of poisonous reptiles.

How well our first trip inland in Ceylon is remembered. While watching the novel and intensely interesting sights, the air was heavy with aromatic fragrance, and sweet with the odor of lilies, while a feeling of quiet content stole over the senses, as in a half-waking dream from which one does not desire to be aroused. Was the brain yielding to the subtle breath of those gorgeous lotus flowers, which opened wide their delicate pink petals to the sunshine? This queen of the lily tribe, the lotus, is here seen in two varieties, the pink and the white. They resemble very closely the common pond-lily of our own climate, but are thrice their size. The seeds are a mild narcotic, and are sometimes eaten by the natives to produce that effect. It is said that birds of thewading family sometimes partake of them until they become stupefied. The seed is about the size of a hazel-nut, and leaves a bitter, puckering taste in the mouth.

The white-ant hills which rise to such proportions here and there in the wooded districts remind us that these minute but marvelously industrious creatures are one of the great pests of equatorial regions, and that they are especially destructive in this island. Attracted by the very dry condition of the wood, they bore holes in the timbers which form the frames of the better class of dwellings, and therein lay their eggs. As soon as the young ants are hatched, they begin to devour the wood, and continue to do so until it falls to pieces. They operate on the inside, avoiding the outer part, proving to be the most stealthy of all aggressive invaders, and their presence is often unsuspected until the mischief is done. The palmyra palm and the ebony-tree furnish the only timber which resists the serious ravages of these white ants. The author was shown a bungalow near Kandy, which was in ruins, where the occupants not long before were one day surprised by the roof tumbling in upon them while they were seated at the dinner-table. The supporting timbers were no longer able to bear their own weight, much less to hold the heavy thatched roof in place, after having been reduced by the ants to a mere shell. One would think that where an abundance of fresh, green vegetation andripe fruit are to be had, dry timber could have few attractions as insect food.

One of the species of ants common in Ceylon has been made the subject of careful investigation by competent naturalists, and with extremely interesting results. The conclusions arrived at serve to corroborate previously formed ideas, that of all small creatures the ant is endowed with the most intelligence. Among other singular facts which have been discovered, it is now known that when a conflict occurs between rival tribes of ants, something like a regular military system is observed by them. They march to the conflict in strict order, divided into separate columns, which are evidently under command of different leaders, while the advance is so correctly timed that the attack upon the enemy is simultaneous. This requires mental calculation; instinct does not suffice to fix such matters. During the fight, the ants carry off their dead and wounded to a place of safety in the rear. A large detail, whose members take no part in the actual conflict, work like an ambulance corps attached to a well-organized army. If we were treating the subject in detail, many other interesting facts might be given, showing the remarkable organization which exists among them, and the sagacity of these intelligent insects.

On the island of Mauritius, in the Indian Ocean, the inhabitants protect themselves against the ravages of the white ants, which if permitted would commitsimilar depredations upon their dwellings to that already spoken of, by pitting a destructive enemy against them. When it is found that a colony of these termites have invaded a dwelling, the inhabitant knows that he must act promptly, as these creatures have big heads and strong jaws, and they destroy rapidly. He pours some molasses on the ground near by the path by which the white ants move to and fro between their home and the house. The smell of the treacle is sure to attract a bevy of black ants, which species is very fond of sweets. These are the natural enemies of the white ants. They notice the latter passing regularly back and forth, and govern themselves accordingly. In a few hours, a whole army of black ants approaches, marching in a column two yards long. They enter the infected house in large numbers, leaving a reserve force behind, and promptly destroy every white ant in the place. Finally the army marches out, each of the black ants carrying away a dead white one, which, cannibal-like, they devour!

But we are still on the way by rail to Kandy, and not writing a volume on natural history, though in making these notes and with the objects absolutely before one's eyes, the mind—and the pen as well—is apt to follow the natural suggestions of the subject, even at the risk of seeming to diverge from the purpose in hand. The patient reader thus often becomes possessed of facts, the communication of whichwas quite unpremeditated by the author. Let us take heed, however, not to make such detail wearisome.

On remarking to an intelligent resident of the island, who was a fellow passenger, that no wild animals were to be seen upon the route, he replied that if we were to leave the more thickly settled district and strike into the forest, abundant tracks would be met with of bears, leopards, and elephants. The latter, especially, make broad paths through the jungle by their heavy tread and shambling gait, leveling the undergrowth right and left as effectually as could be done by an army of bushwhacking road-makers. If a small tree impedes an elephant's progress, he puts his broad forehead against the stem, bends it so as to place his foot upon the horizontal trunk, and thus snaps it short off. If it does not yield readily, he winds his trunk firmly about it and pulls it up by the roots, as a dentist extracts a rebellious tooth. As a rule, small trees go down before a fleeing elephant like grass. Buffaloes are found in both the wild and domesticated condition all over the island, but they abound only in their wild state in the northern sections. The untamed buffalo is a dangerous antagonist when assaulted and fairly driven to bay, and many an English sportsman has been killed by them in Ceylon. The bulls are particularly savage and pugnacious, giving battle upon the slightest provocation.

At a point where the cars were stopped for a few moments to obtain a supply of water for the engine, a female monkey was seen among the trees, the mother of twins, holding the little things in her arms and nursing them in a manner so human as to form a most ludicrous picture. Presently, leaving her little ones in a safe place, she came down to the cars, and was regaled from our lunch basket with what to her must have been rare tidbits, supplied from the cuisine of the Grand Hotel at Colombo. As a rule, the monkey tribe avoid Europeans or white men, suspecting treachery, while they care very little for the native people, who rarely interfere with them. The affection of the mother monkey for its young is something very touching. If one of its little progeny dies, the mother still clings to it, sometimes for several days, carrying it about in her arms, until finally some instinct causes her to lay it away, covered with leaves and the tender young branches of the bamboo. Europeans have a cruel way of obtaining young monkeys to take away from the island. It is accomplished by shooting the mother, after which the bewildered little one is easily secured. One of these small monkey orphans was brought on board the steamship in which we left Ceylon, by its cruel captor. It was touching to see how the diminutive creature had transferred its trust and affection from its natural guardian to its present owner, to whom it clung incessantly. Poor little fellow! it was wellthat it did not know its new protector to be the sole cause of all its troubles. It proved to be a bad sailor, and was so seasick that it soon died, but it clung to its adopted friend to the last moment, who was, we are glad to say, exceedingly kind to the little waif.

After passing through the low country on the way to Kandy, we began gradually to climb an up-grade. This was at Rambukana, about fifty miles from Colombo, two powerful engines being now required to move even our short train, made up of four cars. The road winds zigzag fashion about the hills, in startling proximity to the deep, threatening abyss, while the ever-changing scenery of the Kaduganawa Pass becomes far-reaching and grand, varied by precipitous declivities, deep green gulches, and falling waters. The shelving rocks are here festooned with climbing plants, daintily enriched by blossoms of vivid hues, and flowering creepers. As one can easily believe, this was an expensive road to build, costing in many parts over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars per mile, but it is most thoroughly constructed on a gauge of five feet and six inches. The gradant in some places is one foot in forty-five. Near the highest part of the line stands "Sensation Rock," from which a grand and startling view is enjoyed, recalling a similar experience on the author's part at "Inspiration Point," overlooking the never-to-be-forgotten Yosemite Valley in California. This Ceylon rock has an evil history, it being, according to tradition,the spot from which the ancient kings of Kandy ruthlessly hurled their prisoners of war to destruction. This railway is a great success pecuniarily and otherwise. So well has it been managed that in the twenty-two years which have transpired since its completion, but one accident has occurred of any special moment, and no European or American has ever lost life or limb by mishap while traveling upon the road. It is to be feared that we cannot cite a similar instance of any railway in this country.

At last, after a hearty enjoyment of the bold and beautiful scenery for two hours and more, winding snakelike about the steep acclivities, and diving into and out of dark, gloomy tunnels, we landed in the old and picturesque capital of the central province. It is not exactly a city built upon a hill, but it is a city built among the hills.

The region in this line of latitude between the eastern and western coast of the island, particularly in the central province, is one of much grandeur, a country of Alpine heights and deep green valleys. Here dark ravines and plunging waterfalls multiply themselves. Not small, spraylike bodies of water, like many in Switzerland, but fierce, restless bodies of foaming torrents, sweeping headlong over abrupt declivities three hundred feet in height. The system of mountains does not form a continuous range, but consists of a succession of plateaus and of detached mountains rising from elevated bases. Thus, Adam'sPeak, were it to rise to its present height from a plain at about the level of the ocean, would be far more grand and impressive than it now is, with its direct upheaval beginning from so elevated a base. So in the instance of the two famous mountains which rise from the great Mexican plateau,—Mount Popocatepetl, and Mount Ixtaccihuatl, which lose seven thousand feet of the effect of their real height, because their base starts from a plain situated at that elevation above the sea.


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