THE CURSE OF KEHAMA.
XIII. THE RETREAT.
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XIV. JAGA-NAUT.
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XV. THE CITY OF BALY.
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Kailyal.
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Ladurlad.
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XVI. THE ANCIENT SEPULCHRES.
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XVII. BALY.
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XVIII. KEHAMA’S DESCENT.
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XIX. MOUNT CALASAY.
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XX. THE EMBARKATION.
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XXI. THE WORLD’S END.
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XXII. THE GATE OF PADALON.
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XXIII. PADALON.
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XXIV. THE AMREETA.
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THE END.
NOTES.
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The Burghut, or Banian, often measures from twenty-four to thirty feet in girth. It is distinguished from every other tree hitherto known, by the very peculiar circumstance of throwing out roots from all its branches. These, being pendant, and perfectly lax, in time reach the ground, which they penetrate, and ultimately become substantial props to the very massy horizontal boughs, which, but for such a support, must either be stopt in their growth, or give way, from their own weight. Many of these quondam roots, changing their outward appearance from a brown rough rind to a regular bark, not unlike that of the beech, increase to a great diameter. They may be often seen from four to five feet in circumference, and {142} in a true perpendicular line. An observer, ignorant of their nature, might think them artificial, and that they had been placed for the purpose of sustaining the boughs from which they originated. They proceed from all the branches indiscriminately, whether near or far removed from the ground. They appear like new swabs, such as are in use on board ships: however, few
reach sufficiently low to take a hold of the soil, except those of the lower branches. I have seen some do so from a great height, but they were thin, and did not promise well. Many of the ramifications pendant from the higher boughs are seen to turn round the lower branches, but without any obvious effect on either; possibly, however, they may derive sustenance, even from that partial mode of communication. The height of a full-grown Banian may be from sixty to eighty feet; and many of them, I am fully confident, cover at least two acres. Their leaves are similar to, but rather larger than those of the laurel. The wood of the trunk is used only for fuel; it is light and brittle; but the pillars formed by the roots are valuable, being extremely elastic and light, working with ease, and possessing great toughness: it resembles a good kind of ash.—Oriental Field Sports, vol. ii. p. 113.
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It is a general practice, that, when a plantation is made, a well should be dug at one of its sides. The well and the tope are married; a ceremony at which all the village attends, and in which often much money is expended. The well is considered as the husband, as its waters, which are copiously furnished to the young trees during the first hot season, are supposed to cherish and impregnate them. Though vanity and superstition are evidently the basis of these institutions, yet we cannot help admiring their effects, so beautifully ornamenting a torrid country, and affording such general convenience.—Oriental Sports, p. 10.
Some of these tanks are of very great extent, often covering eight or ten acres; and, besides having steps of masonry, perhaps fifty or sixty feet in breadth, are faced with brick-work, plastered in the most substantial manner. The corners are generally ornamented with round or polygon pavilions of a neat appearance.—Oriental Sports, vol. ii. p. 116.
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There are two kinds of tanks, which we confound under one common name, though nothing can be more different. The first is the Eray, which is formed by throwing a mound or bank across a valley or hollow ground, so that the rain water collects in the upper part of the valley, and is let out on the lower part by sluices, for the purposes of cultivation. The other kind is the Culam, which is formed by digging out the earth, and is destined for supplying the inhabitants with water for domestic purposes. The Culams are very frequently lined on all the four sides with cut stone, and are the most elegant works of the natives.—Buchanan.
Where there are no springs or rivers to furnish them with water, as it is in the northern parts, where there are but two or three springs, they supply this defect by saving of rain water; which they do by casting up great banks in convenient places, to stop and contain the rains that fall, and so save it till they have occasion to let it out into the fields: They are made rounding, like a C, or half-moon. Every town has one of these ponds, which, if they can get but filled with water, they count their corn is as good as in the barn. It was no small work to the ancient inhabitants to make all these banks, of which there is a great number, being some two, some three fathoms in height, and in length some above a mile, some {145} less, not all of a size. They are now grown over with great trees, and so seem natural hills. When they would use the water, they cut a gap in one end of the bank, and so draw the water by little and little, as they have occasion, for the watering their corn.
These ponds, in dry weather, dry up quite. If they should dig these ponds deep, it would not be so convenient for them. It would indeed contain the water well, but would not so well, nor in such plenty, empty out itself into their grounds. In these ponds are alligators, which, when the water is dried up, depart into the woods, and down to the rivers, and, in the time of rains, come up again into the ponds. They are but small, nor do use to catch people, nevertheless they stand in some fear of them.
The corn they sow in these parts is of that sort that is soonest ripe, fearing lest their waters should fail. As the water dries out of these ponds, they make use of them for fields, treading the mud with buffaloes, and then sowing rice thereon, and frequently casting up water with scoops on it.—Knox, p. 9.
The lotus abounds in the numerous lakes and ponds of the province of Garah; and we had the pleasure of comparing {146} several varieties; single and full, white, and tinged with deep or with faint tints of red. To a near view, the simple elegance of the white lotus gains no accession of beauty from the multiplication of its petals, nor from the tinge of gaudy hue; but the richest tint is most pleasing, when a lake, covered with full-blown lotas, is contemplated.—Journey from Mirzapur to Nagpur.—Asiatic Annual Register, 1806.
The materials of which these houses are made are always easy to be procured, and the structure is so simple, that a spacious, and by no means uncomfortable dwelling, suited to the climate, may be erected in one day. Our habitation, consisting of three small rooms, and a hall open to the north, in little more than four hours was in readiness for our reception; fifty or sixty labourers completed it in that time, and on emergency could perform the work in much less. Bamboos, grass for thatching, and the ground rattan, are all the materials requisite: not a nail is used in the whole edifice: A row of strong bamboos, from eight to ten feet high, are fixed firm in the ground, which describe the outline, and are the supporters of the building: smaller bamboos are then tied horizontally, by strips of the ground rattan, to these upright posts: {147} The walls, composed of bamboo mats, are fastened to the sides with similar ligatures: bamboo rafters are quickly raised, and a roof formed, over which thatch is spread in regular layers, and bound to
the roof by filaments of rattan. A floor of bamboo grating is next laid in the inside, elevated two or three feet above the ground: this grating is supported on bamboos, and covered with mats and carpets. Thus ends the process, which is not more simple than effectual. When the workmen take pains, a house of this sort is proof against very inclement weather. We experienced, during our stay at Meeday, a severe storm of wind and rain, but no water penetrated, nor thatch escaped: and if the tempest should blow down the house, the inhabitants would run no risk of having, their brains knocked out, or their bones broken; the fall of the whole fabric would not crush a lady’s lap-dog.—Symes’s Embassy to Ava.
In this district the long grass called jungle is more prevalent than I ever yet noticed. It rises to the height of seven or eight feet, and is topped with a beautiful white down, resembling a swan’s feather. It is the mantle with which nature here covers all the uncultivated ground, and at once veils the indolence of the people and the nakedness {148} of their land. It has a fine shewy appearance, as it undulates in the wind, like the waves of the sea. Nothing but the want of greater variety to its colour prevents it from being one of the finest and most beautiful objects in that rich store of productions with which nature spontaneously supplies the improvident natives.—Tennant.
The Hindoos are enjoined by the Veds to offer a cake, which is called Peenda, to the ghosts of their ancestors, as far back as the third generation. This ceremony is performed on the day of the new moon in every month. The offering of water is in like manner commanded to be performed daily; and this ceremony is called Tarpan, to satisfy, to appease. The souls of such men as have left children to continue their generation, are supposed to be transported, immediately upon quitting their bodies, into a certain region called the Peetree Log, where they may continue in proportion to their former virtues, provided these ceremonies be not neglected; otherwise they are precipitated into Nark, and doomed to be born again in the bodies of unclean beasts; and until, by repeated {149} regenerations, all their sins are done away, and they attain such a degree of perfection as will entitle them to what is called Mooktee, eternal salvation, by which is understood a release from future transmigration, and an absorption in the nature of the
godhead, who is called Brahm.—Wilkins. Note to the Bhagvat Geeta.
The divine names are always pleased with an oblation in empty glades, naturally clean, on the banks of rivers, and in solitary spots.—Inst. of Menu.
This wife of Veeshnoo is the Goddess of the Earth and of Patience. No direct adoration is paid her; but she is held to be a silent and attentive spectator of all that passes in the world.—Kindersley.
The Surput, or tassel-grass, which is much the same as the guinea-grass, grows to the height of twelve or fourteen feet. Its stem becomes so thick as to resemble in some measure a reed. It is very strong, and grows very luxuriantly: it is even used as a fence against cattle; for which purpose it is often planted on banks, excavated from ditches, to enclose fields of corn, &c. It grows wild in all the uncultivated parts of India, but especially in the {150} lower provinces, in which it occupies immense tracts; sometimes mixing with, and rising above coppices; affording an asylum for elephants, rhinoceroses, tygers, &c. It frequently is laid by high winds, of which breeding sows fail not to take advantage, by forming their nests, and concealing their young under the prostrate grass.—Oriental Sports, vol. i. p. 32.
Nature has provided the elephant with means to cool its heated surface, by enabling it to draw from its throat, by the aid of its trunk, a copious supply of saliva, which the animal spurts with force very frequently all over its skin. It also sucks up dust, and blows it over its back and sides, to keep off the flies, and may often be seen fanning itself with a large bough, which it uses with great ease and dexterity.—Oriental Sports, vol. i. p. 100.
The Hindoo poets frequently allude to the fragrant juice which oozes, at certain seasons, from small ducts {151} in the temples of the male elephant, and is useful in relieving him from the redundant moisture, with which he is then oppressed; and they even describe the bees as allured by the scent, and mistaking it for that of the sweetest flowers. When Crishna visited Sanc’ha-dwip, and had destroyed the demon who infested that delightful country, he passed along the bank of a river, and was charmed with a delicious odour, which its waters diffused in their course: He was eager to view the source of so fragrant a stream, but was informed by the natives that it flowed from the temples of an elephant, immensely large, milk-white, and beautifully formed; that he governed a numerous race of elephants; and that the odoriferous fluid which exuded from his temples in the season of love had formed the river; that the Devas, or inferior gods, and the Apsarases, or nymphs, bathed and sported in its waters, impassioned and intoxicated with the liquid perfume.—Wilford. Asiatic Researches.
They are so numerous on the island of Bulama, says Captain Beaver in his excellent book, that I have seen, on a calm evening, when there was not an air sufficiently strong to agitate a leaf, the whole surrounding wood {152} in as much motion, from their playful gambols among its branches, as if it had blown a strong wind.
I have been assured, by a credible eye-witness, that two wild antelopes used often to come from their woods to the place where a more savage beast, Sirajuddaulah, entertained himself with concerts, and that they listened to the strains with an appearance of pleasure, till the monster, in whose soul there was no music, shot one of them, to display his archery. A learned native of this country told me that he had frequently seen the most venomous and malignant snakes leave their holes, upon hearing tunes on a flute, which, as he supposed, gave them peculiar delight. An intelligent Persian, who repeated his story again and again, and permitted me to write it down from his lips, declared, he had more than once been present when a celebrated lutanist, Mirza Mohammed, surnamed Bulbul, was playing to a large company, in a grove near Shiraz, where he distinctly saw the nightingales trying to vie with the musician; sometimes warbling on the trees, sometimes fluttering from branch to branch, as if they wished to approach the instrument
whence the melody proceeded, and at length dropping on {153} the ground, in a kind of ecstacy, from which they were soon raised, he assured me, by a change of the mode. I hardly know, says Sir William Jones, how to disbelieve the testimony of men who had no system of their own to support, and could have no interest in deceiving me.—Asiatic Researches.
The Hindoo Wife, in Sir William Jones’s poem, describes her own toilet-tasks:—
See how he kisses the lip of my rival, and imprints on her forehead an ornament of pure musk, black as the young antelope on the lunar orb! Now, like the husband of Reti, he fixes white blossoms on her dark locks, where they gleam like flashes of lightning among the curled clouds. On her breasts, like two firmaments, he places a string of gems like a radiant constellation; he binds on her arms, graceful as the stalks of the water-lily, and adorned with hands glowing like the petals of its flower, a bracelet of sapphires, which resemble a cluster of bees. Ah! see how he ties round her waist a rich girdle illumined with golden bells, which seem to laugh as they tinkle, at the inferior brightness of the leafy garlands which lovers hang on their bowers, to propitiate the god of {156} desire. He places her soft foot, as he reclines by her side, on his ardent bosom, and stains it with the ruddy hue of Yavaca.—Songs of Jayadeva.
The Hindoos, especially after bathing, paint their faces with ochres and sandal-wood ground very fine into a pulp.
The custom is principally confined to the male sex, though the women occasionally wear a round spot, either of sandal, which is of a light dun colour, or of singuiff, that is, a preparation of vermilion, between the eye-brows, and a stripe of the same running up the front of the head, in the furrow made according to the general practice of dividing all the frontal hair equally to the right and left, where it is rendered smooth, and glazed by a thick mucilage, made by steeping lintseed for a while in water. When dry, the hair is all firmly matted together, and will retain its form for many days together.—Oriental Sports, vol. i. p. 271.
Glass rings are universally worn by the women of the Decan, as an ornament on the wrists; and their applying closely to the arm is considered as a mark of delicacy {157} and beauty, for they must of course be past over the hand. In doing this a girl seldom escapes without drawing blood, and rubbing part of the skin from her hand; and as every well-dressed girl has a number of rings on each arm, and as these are frequently breaking, the poor creatures suffer much from their love of admiration.—Buchanan.
There is a beautiful passage in Statius, which may be quoted here: It is in that poet’s best manner:
This temple is to the Hindoos what Mecca is to the Mahommedans. It is resorted to by pilgrims from every quarter of India. It is the chief seat of Brahminical power, and a strong-hold of their superstition. At the {158} annual festival of the Butt Jattra, seven hundred thousand persons (as has been computed by the Pundits in College) assemble at this place. The number of deaths in a single year, caused by voluntary devotement, by imprisonment for non-payment of the demands of the Brahmins, or by the scarcity of provisions for such a multitude, is incredible. The precincts of the place are covered with bones.—Claudius Buchanan.
Many thousands of people are employed in carrying water from Hurdwar to Juggernat, for the uses of that temple. It is there supposed to be peculiarly holy, as it issues from what is called the Cow’s Mouth. This superstitious notion is the cause of as much lost labour as would long since have converted the largest province of Asia into a garden. The numbers thus employed are immense; they travel with two flasks of the water slung over the shoulder by means of an elastic piece of bamboo. The same quantity which employs, perhaps, fifteen thousand persons, might easily be carried down the Ganges in a few boats annually. Princes and families of distinction have this water carried to them in all parts of Hindostan; it is drank at feasts, as well as upon religious occasions.—Tennant.
A small river near Kinouge is held by some as even more efficacious in washing away moral defilement than {159} the Ganges itself. Dr Tennant says, that a person in Ceylon drinks daily of this water, though at the distance of, perhaps, three thousand miles, and at the expense of five thousand rupees per month!
No distinction of casts is made at this temple, but all, like a nation descended from one common stock, eat, drink, and make merry together.—Stavorinus.
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