CHAPTER V
Sailing Due West. – The Indian Ocean. – Strange Sights at Sea. – Island of Ceylon. – Singhalese Canoes. – Colombo. – A Land of Slaves. – Native Town. – Singhalese Women. – Fantastic Nurses. – Local Pictures. – Cinnamon Gardens. – Wild Elephants. – Lavishness of Tropical Nature. – Curious Birds and their Nests. – Ancient Kandy. – Temple of Maligawan. – Religious Ceremonies. – Life of the Natives. – Inland Scenery. – Fruits. – Precious Stones. – Coffee Plantations. – Great Antiquity of Ceylon.
After leaving Penang our course lay due west across the Indian Ocean, on a line of about the tenth degree of north latitude; the objective point being the island of Ceylon. We sighted the Andaman Islands as we passed, more than one of which has the reputation of being inhabited by cannibals; and as a matter of course some of the passengers became witty over the second-hand jokes about roasted missionary. The rains which we encountered in this equatorial region were so profuse, and yielded such a marvelous downpour of water as to almost deluge us, and set the inside of the good steamship Brindisi afloat. But the air was soft and balmy, the nights gloriously serene and bright, so that it was even more refreshing, more restful than slumber, to lie awake upon the quarter-deck, and gazing idly among the clustering stars, to build castles in the limpid atmosphere while watching the fleecy clouds floating across the gleaming planets, as a lovely woman's veil covers her luminous eyes for an instant only to vivify their splendor.
In the daytime large sea-turtles came to the surface of the water to sun themselves, stretching their awkward necks to get sight of our hull. Big schools of dolphins played their gambols about the ship, darting bodily out of the water, and pitching in again head foremost, no doubt holding their breath when submerged in atmospheric air, as a diver does when he plunges into the sea. Flying-fish were so numerous as to cease to be a curiosity, often skimming on board in their awkward attempts at aerial navigation, and being caught by the crew. As it is known that a light will attract these delicate little sea-moths at night, sailors sometimes extend a bit of canvas on a pole from a forward port, in the shape of a scoop, and placing a lantern above it, gather quite a mess of them in a brief time. One morning the cook brought himself into special notice by giving us a fry of the self-immolated creatures. Large watersnakes appeared at the surface now and again, raising their slimy heads a couple of feet or more above the waves. These have been known to board sailing ships by means of a stray rope left dragging in the water, or through an open port near the surface of the sea. But they would hardly attempt such feats with a swift gliding steamer, even if a trailing rope were to offer them the chance. Now and then the ship would sail for an hour or more through a prolific drift of that queer, indolent bit of animal life, the jelly-fish. How these waters teemed with life! Every school-boy knows that the ocean covers three quarters of the globe, but how few realize that it represents more of organic life than does the land. It is a world in itself, immense and mighty, affording a home for countless and manifold forms of life. We are indebted to it for every drop of water distributed over our hills, plains, and valleys, for from the ocean it has arisen by evaporation to return again through myriads of channels. It is a misnomer to speak of the sea as a desert waste: it is teeming with inexhaustible animal and vegetable life. A German scientist has, with unwearied industry, secured and classified over five hundred distinct species of fishes from this very division of the Indian Ocean; many of which are characterized by colors as gay and various as those of tropical birds and flowers. Mirage played us strange tricks, in the way of optical delusion, in these regions. We seemed constantly to be approaching land that was never reached, and which, after assuming the undulating shore-lines of a well-defined coast, at the moment when we should fairly make it, faded into thin air. Sometimes at night the marvelous phosphorescence of the sea was fascinating to behold, the crest of each wave and ripple became a small cascade of fire, and the motion of the ship through her native element seemed as though sailing through flames. The scientific methods of accounting for this effect are familiar, but hardly satisfactory to those who have watched this phenomenon in both hemispheres. We began, nevertheless, to experience somewhat of the monotony of sea life, although the most was made of trivial occurrences; for out of the hundred days which we had been traveling since leaving Boston, nearly fifty had been passed upon various seas and oceans.
The voyage from Penang to Ceylon covers a distance of about thirteen hundred miles. We sighted the island on Sunday, December 24th, and landed at Colombo on the following day, which was Christmas. When we rounded the seaward end of the substantial breakwater now building, over which the lofty waves were making a clean breach, five of the large and noble steamships of the P. and O. line were seen moored in the harbor, making this a port of call on their way to or from India, China, or Australia. As the anchor-chain rattled through the hawser-hole, and the Brindisi felt the restraint of her land-tackle, we were surrounded by half a hundred native boats, most of which were Singhalese canoes, of such odd construction as to merit a special description. They are peculiar to these seas, being designed to enable the occupant to venture out, however rough the water may chance to be, and the surf is always raging in these open roadsteads. The canoe consists of the trunk of a tree hollowed out, some twenty feet in length, having long planks fastened lengthwise so as to form the sides or gunwales of the boat, which is two feet and a half deep and two feet wide. An outrigger, consisting of a log of wood about one third the size of the canoe, is fastened alongside at a distance of some six or eight feet, by two arched poles of well-seasoned bamboo. This outrigger prevents any possibility of upsetting the boat; but without it so narrow a craft could not remain upright even in the calmest sea. The natives face any weather in those little vessels.
There was a pretense made of examining our baggage by the custom-house officers, but this was simply for form's sake, and then the trunks were put into a two-wheeled canvas-covered cart, drawn by a couple of milk-white oxen, and we walked beside them a short distance to the hotel. It was observed that the driver of the bullocks had no whip, and the circumstance was set down in favor of humanity; but it soon appeared that the fellow had a resort of another sort whereby to urge on his cattle, namely, he twisted their tails, compared to which whipping would have been to them a luxury. As we at once objected to the tail-twisting operation, the native gave it up and behaved himself with humanity. The sun, meantime, was doing its best to roast us, and we were only too happy to get under the shelter of the hotel piazza. We were waited upon with prompt regard to our necessities, and assigned to comfortable apartments. The rooms were divided by partitions which did not reach to the ceiling, the upper portion being left open for ventilation; a style of building peculiar to the climate, but not calculated to afford much more privacy than the Japan paper partitions in the tea-houses. But the hotel at Colombo was a very good one in all of its belongings, and the table excellent. While we sat at our meals, in the spacious dining-hall, long lines of punkas, or suspended fans, were worked by pulleys running outside, so that during these hours we were comfortable, notwithstanding the heat.
This island, situated just off the southern point of India, stands in the same relation to it that Madagascar does to Africa, and is very ancient in its historical associations, having been in the prime of its glory four hundred years before the coming of Christ, and how far back of that period its history extends is only problematical. It is separated from the continent by a strait called the Gulf of Manar, and is about the size of Massachusetts; containing, also, nearly the same aggregate population. It is believed to be the Ophir of the Hebrews, abounding as it does, to-day, in precious stones, such as rubies, sapphires, amethysts, garnets, and various mineral wealth. It is also, taken as a whole, one of the most beautiful regions of the world; the very gem of the equatorial region.
The English government have here large and admirably arranged barracks, suitable for the housing of a small army, the troops numbering at this writing between three and four thousand; but more than double that number can be provided for in the broad, open buildings, specially adapted to the service and the climate. The object is undoubtedly to maintain at this point a military depot, with which to supply troops in an emergency to India or elsewhere in the East. But it should be remembered that Ceylon, though a British colony, is quite separate from that of India, so near at hand. It is presided over by a governor, appointed by the Queen of England, an executive council of five, and a legislative council of fifteen. For the first time since landing in the East, we saw no Chinese. They ceased at Penang; for Chinamen, like some species of birds, move in flocks; they never straggle. There is here a sprinkling of Nubians, but the general population is Singhalese, with whom are seen mingled Arabs, Javanese, Afghans, Kaffirs, and Syrian Jews, these last with their hair in ringlets like young school-girls. The subjugated appearance of the common people is disagreeably apparent. In Japan, the submissiveness and humility of the population is voluntary, for they are a free and independent race after all; but here the natives are the merest slaves, realizing their humble status only too plainly. They call all white people "master" when addressing them: "Yes, master," or "No, master," "Will master have this or that?" They would not dare to resent it if they were knocked down by a white man. The English government provides means for the education of the rising generation in the form of free schools; and the English language is very generally spoken by the common people. This is wise, for even in her colonial possessions she must multiply schools, or prisons will multiply themselves.
The police arrangements of Colombo are excellent. Notwithstanding the singular variety of nationalities, one sees no outbreaks; there is no visible impropriety of conduct, no contention or intoxication, quiet and repose reign everywhere. Though the ancient Pettah, or Black Town, inhabited solely by the natives, is not a very attractive place to visit, and though it is characterized by dirt and squalor, still it is quiet and orderly, presenting many objects of interest as illustrating the domestic life of the Singhalese. The same indolence and want of physical energy is observable among them as was noted in the Malays at Penang and Singapore. Man is but a plant of a higher order. In the tropics he is born of fruitful stock and of delicate fibre; in the north his nature partakes of the hardihood of the oak and cedar. The thermometer indicated about 90° in the shade during the week we remained at Ceylon, rendering it absolutely necessary to avoid the sun. Only the thinnest of clothing is bearable, and one half envied the nudity of the natives who could be no more thinly clad unless they took off their bronzed skins.
We made our home in Colombo at the Grand Oriental Hotel, kept by an Englishman. The servants were natives, but well-trained, and all spoke English. Each wore a white turban and a single white cotton garment, cut like a gentleman's dressing-gown, extending below the knee, and confined at the waist by a sash, thus being decently clothed. It was curious to sit on the piazza and watch the out-door scenes as they presented themselves to the eye. The women were strange objects, with silver and brass jewelry stuck through the tops and bottoms of their ears, through their nostrils and lips, their toes being covered with small silver coins attached to rings, and their ankles, fingers, and wrists similarly covered, but with scarcely any clothing upon their bodies. Both men and women frequently have their arms, legs, and bodies tattooed with red and black ink, representing grotesque figures and strange devices, – these pictorial illustrations on their copper-colored skins reminding one of illumined text on vellum. Like most Eastern nations, they do not sit down when fatigued, but squat on their heels to rest themselves, or when eating, – a position which no person not accustomed to it can assume for one instant without pain. The men wear their hair done up in a singular manner, combed back from the forehead and held in place by a circular shell comb, giving them an especially effeminate appearance; but the women wear nothing of the comb kind in their hair, their abundant braids being well plaited and confined by long metallic pins with mammoth heads. Some of the women are pretty, and would be almost handsome, if their ears and lips and noses were not so distorted; as it is, they have fine upright figures, and the dignified walk that so distinguishes their Egyptian sisters.
These women are very generally employed as nurses by the English officers' wives, and children seem to take very kindly to them, their nature being gentle and affectionate. But these nurses seem to form a class by themselves, and the taste for cheap jewelry could hardly be carried to a greater extent than it is with them. They are got up in the "loudest" style; after the idea of the Roman women similarly employed, or those one meets with children in the gardens of the Louvre at Paris, or the Prado at Madrid. The Singhalese nurses wear a white linen chemise covering the body, except the breast, to the knee, with a blue cut-away velvet jacket, covered with silver braid and buttons, open in front, a scarlet sash gathering the chemise at the waist. The legs and feet are bare, the ankles and toes covered with rings, and the ears heavy, weighed down, and deformed with them. These, like their sisters of the masses, often have their nostrils and lower lips perforated by metallic hoops of brass or silver, and sometimes of gold; to which is often added a necklace of bright sea-shells mixed with shark's teeth, completing the oddest outfit that can well be conceived of for a human being. Savagery tinctured with civilization. The native children of six, eight, and ten, were subjects of particular interest, the boys especially, who were remarkably handsome, clean-limbed, with skins shining like satin, and brown as hazel nuts. These boys and girls have large, brilliant, and intensely black eyes, with a promise of good intelligence, but their possibilities remain unfulfilled amid such associations as they are born to. They soon subside into languid, sensuous creatures.
As we sat shaded by the broad piazza in the midday, the native jugglers and snake-charmers would come, and, squatting in the blazing sun, beg us to give heed to their tricks. They are singularly clever, these Indian mountebanks, especially in sleight of hand tricks. The serpents which they handle with such freedom are of the deadly cobra species, fatally poisonous when their fangs penetrate the flesh, though doubtless when exhibited in this manner they have been deprived of their natural means of defense. True to their native instinct, however, these cobras were more than once seen to strike at the bare arms and legs of the performers. Rooks, of which there were thousands about the house, flew in and out at the open doors and windows, after their own free will, lighting confidently on the back of one's chair and trying the texture of his coat with their sharp bills. No one molests them here or makes them afraid. They are far tamer than are domestic fowls in America, for they are never killed and eaten like hens and chickens. A Singhalese's religion will not permit him to kill anything, except wild beasts in self-defense. The vegetation is what might be expected within so few miles of the equator: beautiful and prolific in the extreme. The cinnamon fields are so thrifty as to form a wilderness of green, though growing but four or five feet in height, and a drive through them was like a poetical inspiration.
The cinnamon bush is a species of laurel, and bears a white, scentless flower, which is succeeded by a small, oblong berry, scarcely as large as a pea. The spice of commerce is the inner bark of the shrub, the branches of which are cut and peeled twice in the course of the year, – say about Christmas and midsummer. The plantations resemble a thick, tangled copse, without any regularity, and require no cultivation, after being once set out; though by close trimming the strength is thrown downward, and the shrub is thought to render a better crop. The raising of the spice was once a government monopoly, but all restrictions are now removed, and the plantations near to Colombo are private property. In driving through them – for they are miles in extent, and are poetically called cinnamon gardens – we tried in vain to detect the perfume derived from cinnamon; far too decided and pungent to be mistaken for aught else. It is not the bloom nor the berry which throws off this scent, but the wounded bark in process of being gathered at the semi-annual harvest. These cinnamon fields were very sweet and fragrant; there was the perfume of flowers in the air, but not even poetical license could attribute it to the cinnamon.
The wide-spread coffee plantations were much more attractive to the eye, the cultivation of which forms one of the principal industries of the island, supplemented by the raising and exporting of rice, tea, cocoanuts, pine-apples, plumbago, and precious stones. Ceylon, at one time, almost rivaled Java in the production of coffee; statistics showing that her export of the berry reached the large amount of a million hundred-weight per annum, before it was suddenly checked by the leaf disease, which has impoverished so many of the local planters. Among its wild animals are elephants, deer, monkeys, bears, and panthers, – fine specimens of which are preserved in the excellent museum near Colombo. Pearl oysters abound on the coast, and some superb specimens of this beautiful jewel have been found here, while no shore is richer in the variety and quality of its finny tribe. Game birds, especially of aquatic sorts, prevail.
Specimens of the ebony, satin-wood, and celamendar-trees were met with, the latter the most highly prized of all cabinet woods, growing in wild luxuriance, surrounded by palms, bamboos, fragrant balsams, tall ferns, and the india-rubber-tree, large and lofty, with a majority of its anaconda-like roots lying above the surface of the ground. Here and there we came upon dark, shady pools, covered with the blooming lotus, like our pond-lilies, except that they are much larger. The floral display was fascinating. Nature seemed to revel in blossoms of various, and, to us, unknown species. While some large and brilliant flowers bloomed on trees, others, very lovely and sweet, caught the eye among the prolific undergrowth. Vivid colors flashed before the observer, caused by the blue and scarlet plumage of the feathered tribe among the branches of the trees, some with pleasant trilling voices, and others uttering harsh, shrill, unfamiliar cries. The variety of birds was a very marked feature of this tropical region. The keen voice of the Ceylon thrush rang in our ears like the scream of a young child. Many other smaller birds were seen in rainbow feathers; and a sparrow, like his English brother, except that the Ceylon species wear a white shirt bosom.
The difference between a tropical forest and that of our temperate zone, which at once challenges the notice of the traveler, is that trees of the same families do not characterize any particular spot. We have pine forests, oak forests, cedar, birch, and maple woods, and the like; but a tropical forest contains specimens of the most widely different classes, with every possible variety of family; and the same may be said of the countless climbing plants which cling to the vertical trunks. The various kinds of the palm are sure to assert their predominance everywhere in the wooded districts and jungles of the tropics, yielding an abundance of their valuable fruits. But at the north, to see a peach or apple-tree bearing fruit in a pine grove, or fruitful cherry and pear-trees among a forest of oaks, would cause surprise. It is, after all, only a peculiarity born of the wonderful vegetable productiveness of the equatorial region, which gives birth to fruits and flowers wherever there is space to nourish their roots, and where moisture and heat have no other outlet whereon to expend their fructifying powers. The bread-fruit-tree is especially interesting, with its deeply serrated, feathery leaves, and its melon-shaped fruit, weighing from three to four pounds. This the natives prepare for eating in many ways, and as the tree bears fruit continually for nine months of the year, it forms a most important food supply. Two or three trees will support a hearty man, and half a dozen, well cared for, will sustain a small family, a portion of the fruit being dried and kept for the non-producing months. The tree grows to nearly fifty feet in height, and only requires a little attention, – no more than that marvel of productiveness, the banana.
Here we saw, for the first time, the cardamom and pepper bushes full of fruit, and the kitool-palm yielding its harvest of sugar, toddy, and sago. The usual pests of the tropics were not wanting to balance all these pleasant sights. Beetles, dragon-flies, cock-chafers, locusts, wasps, and vicious spiders, were visible everywhere; while the omnipresent mosquito was ever looking out for a victim. The curious nest of the tailor-bird, which sews leaves together and builds a dainty nest inside of them, was pointed out to us, and specimens of the weaver bird's nest, with entrance tubes over two feet in length. There were also pendent nests built by a species of wasp in the trees, which indicated a nefarious design to infringe upon bird architecture. The peacock is found wild here in all its wealth of mottled, feathery splendor. Storks, ibises, and herons flew up from the lagoons, and the cooing of the gentle wood-pigeon reached the ear during the quieter moments. The woods, and indeed all out-doors at Ceylon, seemed like a conservatory of exotic birds and flowers.
There is a well-equipped railroad extending from Colombo northward to the small but ancient city of Kandy, running thus about seventy-five miles into the very heart of the ancient native kingdom, and giving the traveler an excellent opportunity to view the inland scenery, which, at many points, is grand and imposing. Kandy is perched in a basin of the mountains, two thousand feet above the level of the sea, surrounded by thickly wooded hills; beyond which are broad plains and thick jungles, which are very rarely penetrated, and which have not been explored, probably, for centuries. Here wild elephants are to be met with in herds. It will be remembered, that they are indigenous to Ceylon, and from here Hindostan was supplied in the centuries that are gone, when the huge animal was employed in such large numbers during the Mogul reign. In those days there were elephant fights, when these animals, like gladiators at Rome, were trained to single combats, or duels, fur the pleasure of cruel masters; and such was their spirit that one or both were always sacrificed on such occasions. We afterwards saw, in India, the arenas where these gladiatorial contests took place, one of which was located in the fort at Agra. A well-known peculiarity of this animal is the fact that it is almost impossible to breed from them in a domestic condition, thus rendering it necessary to replenish the ranks from the jungle. In their wild state elephants are a prolific animal; otherwise Ceylon would long since have been cleared of them, since thousands have been imported from here into India within the last fifty years. The Ceylon elephants prefer the low lying forests, but do not confine themselves to them, ranging the hills to a height of six or seven thousand feet, where the nights must be frosty and rather severe. Their principal food is the leafage and young shoots of various trees, the wild fig being a favorite. There are other trees of which they eat the bark, and the young roots of the bamboo form a large source of their food supply. Rice is, however, their favorite article of food, and they often devastate whole plantations in a single night. It is fortunate that the slightest fence will keep them away from any spot so protected: a single blow of their trunks would destroy a bamboo fence, but they never attempt it. Some idea, of which we can know nothing, possesses them as it regards these frail fences. The male elephant in Ceylon gets its full size at about twenty-two years, and is then about twelve feet in height. We were told that they averaged about a hundred years of life, but in India a much longer period is given them by general calculation.
It has been found necessary to protect them by special law in Ceylon, as European sportsmen came hither in such numbers after the large game, that they threatened their extinction. There is now, therefore, a fine of five hundred pounds imposed by government, as a penalty for killing an elephant; but some rich English sportsmen kill their elephant and pay the fine. It will be remembered that the Duke of Edinburgh visited the island a few years since to participate in an elephant hunt, when great preparations were made for him, and good success, from a sportsman's point of view, was achieved. This style of hunting involves considerable risk, and native beaters are liable to lose their lives in the business. The animals found on the island seem to be quite a distinctive breed from any other known race, and are noted for their intelligence, as well as for their docility, after proper domestication. They are not so large as those of Africa, but seem to be more highly prized in India. The exportation, as we learned, still goes on in behalf of the English government, sixteen hundred animals having thus been disposed of in the five years ending in 1862, and about the same number in the intervening time up to January, 1883, all of which went to India.
The principal object of interest at Kandy is the renowned and ancient temple of Maligawa, where the sacred tooth of Buddha has been preserved for more than fifteen hundred years. It is an indescribable old shrine of irregular, low architecture, black and grimy with "the sacred rust of twice ten hundred years," surrounded by a walled court and small stone apartments. It is surmounted by a tower, manifestly European in design, and which tells its own story as a modern addition. It is massive and uncouth, so as hardly to admit of classification; though it must once have been the central object of worship to a very large population, and is held so sacred that the king and priests of Burmah and Siam still send valuable presents to it annually. A sacred bo-tree was pointed out to us in the grounds near the temple, believed to be the oldest historical tree in the world. It is nearly allied to the banyan species, and its record has been carefully kept since three hundred years previous to the Christian era. The temple, though wearing a most deserted and neglected aspect, is still in charge of a few yellow-robed priests, who keep up an appearance daily of regular services, such as they are, and more heathenish ones were never witnessed. The ceremonies during our brief visit consisted of grotesque dancing, beating of drums, and blowing upon a shrill fife before a rude altar, upon which incense was burning. There was also marching, by these musicians, around the altar, led by a dirty, blear-eyed priest. The scene was strongly suggestive of a powwow as performed by the Digger Indians of California. So great was the din, we were quite willing to take for granted the presence, in another part of the temple, of the tooth of Buddha, without personal inspection, and hastened to get away from the annoyance as soon as possible. As we came out of the reeking, stuffy, infected building, we expanded our lungs and umbrellas at one and the same time, for it was "raining cats and dogs" just at that time, and when it rains near the equator it does so in earnest; umbrellas become a fallacy: nothing less than an india-rubber coat is of any avail. What an exhibition of mummery it was in that time-begrimed temple! Ceylon is the classic ground of Buddhism, as its ruined temples and monuments prove, – a faith which still prevails so generally throughout Burmah, China, and Japan.
The house at which we stopped in Kandy, the only one designed for the accommodation of travelers, is called the Queen's Hotel, quite pretentious, quite expensive, and very poor, especially as it regards the table. One would think a plenty of fruit, at least, might be afforded where it only costs the time and trouble of gathering, but we were obliged to seek such cheap luxuries of the itinerant outsiders. There was a liberal abundance, however, in the insectivorous department. Centipides and other noxious creatures abounded in the sleeping-rooms. Fire-flies floated about them in such force at night as to contest the illuminating power with the primitive light supplied to guests, by means of a small cork with a bit of cotton wicking floating upon a shallow dish of cocoanut oil. We will not dilate upon the still more offensive insects which disputed our sleeping accommodations with us, but did protest when the rain came pouring through the roof and ceiling upon us in bed. A large tub was brought in, the bed removed to another corner; and we fell asleep, lulled by the dull sound of dropping water, to awake next morning and find the tub overflowing.