BEING STRAY NOTES OF FIVE YEARS OF TRAVEL.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLI, Issue 22, 25 November 1908, Page 31

BEING STRAY NOTES OF FIVE YEARS OF TRAVEL.

By

WINIFRED H. LEYS, AUCKLAND.

CALCUTTA AND DARJEELING: THE BUSY CAPITAL AND THE BEAUTIFUL RETREAT AMONG THE HILLS.

S Christmas approached the tourists in India turned their footI I steps towards Calcutta, and. Wl wherever duty permitted it. I he residents from the up country stations joined in tin* procession towards the capital. For months ahead all the rooms in the principal hotels had been engaged by those eager to witness the Viceroy's Cup, and tin* big horse show at Tollygunj. which are as brilliant functions as may be seen outside* of the great

European capitals. Besides these annual functions Calcutta during the Christmas of 11)0.5 was to have unusual splendours in honour of the visit of the Prince and Princess of Wales. Thus it was that throughout December the trains came rumbling into Howrah laden with the black and white population of tin* vast continent, all bent on participating in the festivities and having a thoroughly enjoyable holiday. Coming down from Benares we felt it

delightful to pass into tin* fresh green surroundings once more. During the (‘ally hours of the morning as we approacdied Calcutta, the train ran through conn try of a somewhat swampy character, but densely vegetated. I was told that some of tin* best tiger shooting in India is within close proximity to the capital, but the land is too swampy and too closely covered with jungle to be* safely negotiated, so is not favourite hunting ground.

Our iir<t glimpse of < al.utta on driving from Howrah through the lilthv street* of the native <-it\ i* far from prep(»**es sing; but olive we get beyond this to the business quarters, to the ( how i inghee, to Dalhousie Square. ami ( lit c street, ami their immediate *urroundings. the ma—ive *olidit\ ot ( abulia I* iinpiv— ive. The l\iiiopean » lenient, too. i« vers pro nmmved. and this cit \ ot the eastern shores of India has little resemblance to its great rival on the western coast. The brow n stem* used in tin* principal buildings of Bombay ami the blues and reds u-ed by tin* natives in their clothes, make Bombas a cits of rich colouring, bright and oriental in appearance. Cal cutta. on the other hand, is colourle**. Trills t hi* i* to a large extent due to drabs and whites u*ed almost univers ally bs the natives of Bengal in their (hulling. Imt this to u certain extent is in harmony with the grey or dazzling white of tin* buildings. In Bombas white lace* are so much in the minority that t hey attract one’s attention. In Cal cutta their number* are surprising. ami tin* busy. go ahead atmosphere of this great commercial cits has little of orien talism about it. I he homes of the Anglo Indians in Cal cutta. with their creeper clad window*, •diady gardens, ami briiiiant Howers have lost the bungalow aspect. and evolved into a semblance of the English villa, the whole appearance of the F.ngli*h quarter differing vers much from that ol an up country station. Of course. (al cutta is the heart of the administ ra I ion of the \a*t Indian Empire. ami though the social and political world emanate* from stalely Government House, which ne-tles in its lovely garden at the north west extremitx of the Maidan, and from the Legislative Council Chambers near by. none the les* the tall mills and fac lories on the river front, ami the ma* sive bank* and huge shops. give Io Cal (iitta the aspect of a prosperous vommer cial city. The principal part of the city is Built in a semi-circle round a huge open i-pac-c* known as the* Maid.in. This beautiful tract of land is large enough to accommodate* a racecourse in one corner, the Fden Gardens in another corner. to be* crossed and re crossed by road*, ami to still leave a large open, airy space as a breathing place* for the* teeming population that lives ami works in the busy cil v. The llughli river

wanlies one side of the Maidan, and the Cliowringhe road borders it on the other side, and of the glories of Calcutta the Maidan is the greatest. The wisdom that keeps this vast pleasure ground open and unimpaired is the means of bringing health to the citizens of the most important city in the Indian Empire. In this gay and busy city the commercial class mingles but little with the official circle, and the natives, however wealthy, come in little contact witli either. There are most stringent rules of etiquette which must not be infringed upon, none the less there are few places in which the gay can find more diversion than under the sunny skies at Christmas in Calcutta. Now the residents of India do a long and bitter grumble at the hotels, but 1 must confess that I think the complaints are somewhat unreasonable. From Bombay to Calcutta we found the hotels in the various up-country cities to be comfortable and the attendance good. When starting from Bombay I was given by an Anglo-In-dian such a dreary picture of the discomforts which awaited me that I confess my ardour was considerably damped. but as we progressed our surprise and relief at the accommodation which we obtained was genuinely great. At Calcutta, however, my glowing opinion dropped somewhat, and, so far as my personal experience went, during a short visit, it seemed to me that the hotels of the great metropolis compared unfavourably with such places as Maiden’s at Delhi, or Wutzler’s at Lucknow. We spent a few days in Calcutta visiting the Burra Bazaar, and among other things, not omitting to walk round the post office and have a look at the railedin square, which represents the spot known as the Black Hole of Calcutta, where stood the guard-room in which on the 20th June, 1756, one hundred and forty-six men and women were confined

for the night by the orders of the Nawab of Bengal, of whom one hundred and twenty-three were found dead of suffocation in the morning. But these are gruesome memories. One very pleasant afternoon was whiled away on a trip to the Botanical gardens, where at last we found ourselves amid the real luxuriance of tropical vegetation. Palm bordered paths, huge clumps of tall bamboo, brilliant green and yellow striped leaves, and blazing poinsettias were there, amid countless specimens of tropical trees from all the states of the Indian Empire. Strangest of all. is the huge banyan tree. Each branch of the original tree throws out feelers which drop down and down until they strike the ground. Then the feelers take root, and the swaying arms expanding 'into trunks put out a fresh set of branches which in turn, throw down the earth-seeking feelers. Thus the growth of the tree is practically endless and some banyans are possessed of thousainds of trunks, each holding some connection with the central parent tree—a strange little forest indeed. However, having made our arrangements for accommodation during the Christmas and New Year celebrations in Calcutta, we set off up to Darjeeling, the hill station which nestles on the first range of the Himalayas, about 7.000 feet above sea level. The journey, which occupies practically a day and a night, was most interesting, as during the last half the train zig-zags up the mountains, amid the heavy jungle, rising several thousand feet fin ii few hours. 1

Darjeeling lies on the borders of Nepal. and is almost encircled by the higher range of Himalayas, of which Kinch injanga 28,15 b feet, J aim 25,30+ feet, and Kabru 24.015 feet, are the leading features. These mountains are about

forty miles distant, but their enormous height makes them appear no more than twenty miles away. The town of Darjeeling is spread over the spur of lower mountains, so that its streets are all inclines, and its villas and hotels dotted here and there peer down or look up at one another, as the homes in the mountain-s must need do. 'The secretariat. the large sanatorium, the summer residence of the Limit-Governor <»f Bengal, and the two principal hotels are conspicuous; for the rest, little up hill and down dale roads lead from the Mall and from Auckland road, a«nd on these we find the creeper-clad and garden enshrouded villas which are so full of life and gaiety in May, June, and July, and even in October and Xovemlier. Below the row of English shops 'is the •native bazaar, which is dirty and cramped but interesting to us from the striking difference between its population and that of the cities we had been visit ing. ’l'he Mongol type of features is here most pronounced, and the clothes worn by the Butins, Tibetans, Nipalese. Lepachas are a marked contrast in quantity and style to anything we had encountered on the plains. These people of the hills arc happier .fatter, and stronger than those of the low country. Eamine seldom touches their districts, and the hot weather is, of course, unknown. The laughter and joking that resounds in the Darjeeling bazaar is of a heartiness seldom heard down among the Hindus. But oh! how the women and children work. Practically all the coolies are women, up there among the mountains. It is no uncommon sight to see a line of women or half-grown children mounting

up. up. up those hilly paths, with bowed backs on which rest some large blocks of stone held in place by a rope sling, one end of which is stretched across the forehead and the other end supporting the burden. This sight always depressed me. but the workers seemed happy in spite of it all. for scarcely one did 1 pass who was not winding a bobbin of scarlet thread with her disengaged hands and crooning Io herself the while. On the tea plantations which cover the hills around Darjeeling women are found to be far the best workers and are universally cmployed. It is always unfortunate to see a sum mer resort in the winter time, when it lacks that life and gaiety which are its chief characteristics, and an Indian hill -ta lion in winter is very like the Riviera out of sea-on. in other words almost deserted. i'he crowd of men and women who seek the cool breezes during the trying summer months have returned to their duties on the plains and only the few who for health reasons spend most of the year up among the hills, and tourists like ourselves, and the regiment sta tinned in the cantonment, are to be found still lingering in Darjeeling when the frosty winds from Kinchin janga sweep down the valleys whistling the -ong of winter. And cold it certainly is. Indeed, with fires in our bed-rooms and rugs and blankets on our beds the nights were only just comfortable. Once or twice I longed for the luxury of a hot water-bottle, ami was sorely tempted to -teal that of the room-boy who slept outside my door, hugging a gin-bottle filled with hot water. Kain still held aloof from us, but the weather was un

fortunately cloudy ami a heavy fog for the most of the time obscured the niountains. The actions of people when en tour are at times strangely in contradiction Io their usual habits. I make no pre tence that it is a general rule fqr my brother or myself to rise with the lark, but on one morning, at least, in Darjeel ing we beat this proverbially early riser. Three o’clock had scarcely ceased ringing out when we were mounted on ponies ami riding away from the hot id towarda spot some 7 miles distant, known as Tiger 11 ill. w here w e wore promised a matchless view of a beautiful sunrise over the Himalayas, with the top-most point of Mount Everest visible in the distance. Now. does not that sound al tractive enough to draw even tin* slug gard from his bed in the early hours of the morning? Wo soon left the little town behind, and after we had lost sight of its twin kling electric lamps the poor pale moon served to light our way. Ere starting, a careful survey of the -ky had been taken, and all looked clear and bright enough to warrant our continuing the expedition. But we had not ascended very far before a thick fog began to settle down all around, and even the faithful moon hail to put forward an especial effort on our behalf, its rays scarcely showing us the houses or fences on the roadside. You may wonder why we con tinned, considering tin* distance which we hail to go. and considering the bitter cold, and considering the -mall chance

had of witnessing a good sunrise, and considering well considering all the many discomforts that we were undergoing. But, we satisfied our protesting selves with the idea that, as the fog was drifting into the valleys, we might rise above it; and honestly I think we realised that it would take more than a sunrise over distant Mount Everest to again get us from our beds at 3 a.m. on a winter morning. So we stuck to it bravely. Curling my feet under the pony 1 endeavoured to warm them on his steaming sides; at the same time I dropped the reins on the pony's neck and allowed the syce to lead him, while I alternately blew on my half-numbed fingers, or stuffed them in the pockets of my coat. I suppose my brother was behaving in an equally ludicrous manner, but I cannot say for certain, as I barely caught his outline as he and his pony plodded ahead. Up, up, and then down, and then up again, through the bitter wet fog, in which some of the trees, more determined than the rest, rose in shadowy outline. Away in the valley below a cock would crow’ or a dog bark to tell us that we were not, as we began to imagine, tfie only people on that mountainside. For an interval the fog lifted, and showed us that the valleys on either side of us were heavily vegetated, but this was ..only a peep of a few seconds, the fog soon returning to obscure it all. How the sturdy ponies saw their way I cannot guess, for at times it was impossible to see a few yards ahead, and the road, like all mountain roads, wound round and round, and in places was very rocky. Four a.m. had struck as we passed out of Darjeeling, and shortly after 6 a.m, our ponies made an extra effort, and carried us up a steep rocky path at the top of which our guides called the halt, informing us that we had arrived at our destination, Tiger Hill. Dismounting was an uncomfortable business, as our poor feet were wholly numbed, but, having slipped gently to the ground, we crept round to windward of a huge pile of fire-wood, and sitting down on a log, peered through the fog, which Seemed thicker up there than on the mountainside. “Tiger Hill” sounds exciting, and one secretly expected to see the glistening eyes of tigers peering at us through the fog, and a mental calculation served to satisfy me that it would be possible, though somewhat scratchy, to climb the pile of firewood, in a case of extreme necessity. But I vow the hill is misnamed —we never saw or heard a tiger, and most probably they never frequented the place. At first the fog w r as so dense that we could not identify the form of our syce, who squatted a few feet away. Did I say it was cold? Well, forgive me for mentioning it again; but after an hour of this it became necessary for us to move round and gather twigs, which, with the aid of whatever correspondence we happened to have in our pockets, we succeeded in getting a light. At this juncture four other cold sunrise viewers came stumbling through the fog, and their service and that of the six syces was invoked to assist in building the Smoky fire, over which we all crouched for two more hours, nearly blinding our eyes with the smoke. and barely warming our toes. It was the most ridiculous sunrise expedition I ever participated in! Once a small corner of the fog lifted, and we were permitted a peep of the valleys and of the magnificent snow-capped range that we had come to see. The corner where Mt Everest was located remained ungraciously veiled, however. Tn any case, it was such a ' flashlight picture that before cameras, field glasses, and smokedimmed eyes bad been raised, the heavy Wall of fog had obscured it all. None, the less, this phantom buoyed us up with the hope of final success, and persuaded us to stay in our miserable position for an hour more. At about 9 a.m.—please remember that we had been in the fog on the mountains since 3.30 a.m.—our patience was rewarded and the fog rolled away, displaying what? The beautiful snow-capped mountains, think you? Oh, no! but a heavy hank of cloud settled stubbornly down over the corner of the landscape where we knew the mountains to he. This was the cruellest blow of all, and utterly disgusted. wo mounted our ponies and rode bark to Darjeeling.

Next morning, from my dressing-rooaa window, 1 s*w the whole range unveiled, old K inchinjanga so plainly outlined that even as I gazed I saw a large mass of snow break away and slide dowu the mountain side. But the clouds were not over generous, soon rolling up in armies and obscuring the glorious range. But for that short hour Darjeeling was the Darjeeling of the summer months, when the mountain giants gaze .town through the clear atmosphere, and give to the hill resort that beauty which makes hundreds love it above all places on the Indian peninsula. In spite of small mishaps, in spite of the general quietness of the place, we had a very enjoyable week among the hills. The 33rd West Riding or Duke of Wellington's Regiment was at Lebong, the cantonments of Darjeeling, and the Colonel temporarily resident at Rockville Hotel, where we were staying. To his extreme kindness in devoting his spare time to our entertainment we owed much of the pleasure of our visit. Indeed, when the time came for us to depart, just as the preparations for liberal Christmas festivities were being hurried on, we felt very loath to go. But we Imd made arrangements and accepted invitations for Christmas entertainments in Calcutta, so carrying away many pleasant memories, we turned our backs on the Himalayas and descended to the plains once more. Going back to Calcutta, partly by train and partly by boat, we were fellow passengers with the. Tongsa Penlop, or ruler of Buthan, and his retinue, who were journeying to Calcutta to welcome the Prince and Princess of Wales. He it was who accompanied Colonel Younghusband to Lhassa as mediator between the British representative and the head of all the Lamas, so to a Britisher this important ruler is of unbounded interest. Draped from head to foot in brilliant red and yellow satin, the Tongsa Penlop sat amid his followers, a calm, silent figure of most, benevolent appearance, allowing himself to be snapshotted in the most good-natured manner; though personally I must say I was heartily disgusted with the way our fellow-passengers followed the inoffensive old notability, even poking their cameras into his railway carriage. Wide-eyed with wonder, their legs dangling to and fro as they sat on the edge of their seats, his followers looked at everything with a surprise that was somewhat ludicrous, but, after all, only natural to anyone who had for the first time crossed the borders from Buthan. In Calcutta 1 several times saw these grown-up children, open-mouthed, open eyed, full of amazement at the wonderful sights of the busy capital, and it was a little hard’ to credit that in their own country of Buthan these were men of great importance, statesmen in fact. And now, on our return to Calcutta, we found the streets gay with Venetian poles, flags and streamers, and many of the buildings heavily draped with fairy lamps and electric lights, the preparations for the arrival of the Prince and Princess being practically complete. Then came a fortnight of gaiety, of dinners and luncheons, of races and horse shows, of processions, reviews, illuminations, indeed every form of entertainment that the inhabitants of Calcutta could devise for the entertainment of their royal guests. The old year was drawing to a close, and a pang of home-sickness attacked me as Christmas Eve waned, but in consequence of the many familiar faces that surrounded us, I felt absolutely at home in Calcutta; after all. the instinct of fellowship is strongly developed in us all. There is one main route across India, and during the weeks which it took us to cross, we were forever remeeting friends whose acquaintance we had made at some town further back. This makes travelling in India more sociable than in any other country of which I know. And here in Calcutta were almost all our newly-made friends gathered for Christmas festivities. Out at the cricket match on Christmas Day we met others, and among the crowd on the Calcutta race-course familiar faces met us at every turn. But the Prince and Princess had not yet arrived. Morning after morning, as I lay in bed. I heard the guns fired in salute of the rajahs who were arriving in the capital to do honour to the royal visitors. It was interesting to count the guns; sometimes it was ten. sometimes twelve, sometimes eighteen, and even the coveted twenty-one. and in the evening papers we would road which of lhe intiuential rajahs had been received that

morning. At moments such as these one appreciated the tireless energy and tact exerted by those in high places to keep satisfaction in the hearts of these restless, haughty, one-time rulers. The actual arrival and procession of she Prince and Princess from the Princep’s Ghat to Government House had very little of Oriental grandeur about it. Indeed, except for the Imperial Cadet Corps, composed of native princes, and the Viceroy’s Sikh bodyguard, the procession was of little interest. Thousands and thousands of eager natives lined the route, and expressed their approval of the presence among them of the future king and queen. Wo slipped away south before the garden party of the following week, so for us the most memorable sight was the brilliantly dressed crowd gathered on the racecourse to see the Prince of Wales' Cup. A more beautiful course than that of Calcutta it would be difficult to find, and when the crowd of fashionablydressed ladies came streaming down from the huge grandstand and went sauntering in among the scarlet poinsettias and under the trees of the shady lawn and paddock no more brilliant picture can be imagined. Tire sky was cloudless, and the sunshine provocative of good temper, and almost every notable personage in India was to be found mingling with the crowd. Faces that have been familiar to me all my life were here in the flesh. Lord Kitchener stood a few yards from me chatting to the pretty’ daughter of the Viceroy. Rather disappointing is the. appearance of the Commander-in-t hief of the great army that holds the millions in cheek. He is tall, but does not stand erect, and the expression of his face can scarcely be termed amiable. A few yards from these two was the Viceroy, Lord Minto, discussing affairs with the Prince of Wales. But statesmen and distinguished soldiers had put care aside and gone whole-heartedly into the enjoyment of the festive season. Blit for the presence of a few silken-clothed Parsis women and wealthy natives, there was little in the appearance of the throng on the lawn of the Calcutta racecourse to remind us that we were in a land teeming with millions of black faces. Outside the rails the picture was reversed; there were collected thousands of carriages of every calibre overladen with spectators, for the Hindu is passionately fond of a race meeting, though correspondingly' fond of his rupees. The Proclamation Parade, which took place very early on the Ist of January, 1906, brought us again into a realisation of the immense native population of Calcutta. From daybreak they streamed out onto the Maidan, and by the time their Royal Highnesses arrived an enormous ring six or seven deep had enclosed the parade ground. The review was much as other reviews, and would have lacked all Oriental splendour had the Viceroy’s Sikh Guard and the Imperial Cadet Corps been absent. But. for true princelincss of appearance nothing can excel the Imperial Cadet Corps. In front of the Prince of Wales rode these twenty-seven men, each rider being uniformed in pale blue and white, and mounted on a jet black horse. Proudly’ they rode, these sons of princes or rajahs, representing the best of those haughty families who ruled India for generations. The formation of this corps is due, I believe, to Lord Curzon, and, as one writer suggests, it is an admirable way of employing the time and energies of these native princes, in whom the inherited restlessness and love of power and fighting must needs have vent. It was a busy time for the Prince and Princess, but early and late they attended functions and received guests of honour, the Prince doing his duty with tireless energy, and the Princess, always magnificently gowned, a gracious, queenly figure, who must have drawn much admiration from the millions of dark-skinned people whose queen she will some day be. And for my brother and myself, in cur own mild way, the days were full of enjoyment. The friends of our friends were very kind to us, and after months of hotel life, ami the passing from city to city without any personal intercourse with the inhabitants, it was most refreshing to be welcomed into the homes of those who shared with us the friendships of our own homeland. A merry dinner-party in the sumptuously appointed “chummery" of five of the influential business men of Calcutta was a very pleasant termination to the Boxing-day races, and among the Calcutta memories that most often recur to my mind are those of the delightful luncheons and

dinners al the flat occupied by some friends in the city. These little functions gave a personal touch to our visit, ami a little insight into the home life of the Anglo-Indians. And most amazing it is to note the necessity which compels them to surround themselves with a horde of servants, each of whom may conscientiously do his own particular work, but, in consequence of caste restrictions, will flatly refuse to do a fraction beyond it. Oh! yes, our AngloIndian sisters have their servant worries, even where the supply so largely exceeds Ijie demand. But from every point of view, it was most interesting to us to learn something of the real life of our countrymen in India, for we had grown more or less familiar with the sights of the streets, with the toiling bullock-cart and stray wandering goat, or the deformed beggar crying out for luik-shish, or the closed carriage through which gleam the eyes of some Mohammedan woman. So both my brother and I feel thankful for the pleasant memories we have carried away of Anglo-Indian hospitality and the friendships we formed, which were perhaps the greatest pleasure of our sojourn in the Indian Empire. Next Week : MADURA AND TRICHINOPOLY, AND THE GREAT TEMPLES OK SOUTHERN INDIA.

GOLDEN DAYS IN MANY LANDS.