m CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 1924 079 572 032 DATE DUE (cBBP^ mf GAYLORD PRINTED IN USA Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924079572032 In compliance with current copyriglit law, Cornell University Library produced this replacement volume on paper that meets the ANSI Standard Z39.48-1992 to replace the irreparably deteriorated original. 1997 3>S CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF The Carnegie Corporation THE NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA THE NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA THEIR HISTORY, ETHNOLOGY, AND ADMINISTRATION BY W. CROOKE BENGAL CIVIL SERVICE (RETIRED) WITH SIXTEBX FOLL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS AND A MAP METHUEN & CO. 36 ESSEX STREET, W.C. LONDON 1897 PREFACE nPHIS book is an attempt to tell the story of one of the greatest of our Indian Provinces from the social point of view. If some space has been given to the geography of the country, it has been intended to explain the environment of the people. The sketch of the history up to the establish- ment of our rule has been written with the same object. I have then endeavoured to discuss briefly some of the chief social problems which the Government has attempted to solve — the repression of crime, the crusade against filth and disease, the relief of famine, of the depressed classes, the development of agriculture and trade. This is followed by an account of the people themselves, largely based on information collected in the course of the Ethnographical Survey of the Province, which has been recently completed under my superintendence. I have tried to describe briefly the more interesting tribes, and to show what are the religious beliefs of the peasantry. This is a subject which I have dealt with more fully from the stand- point of Folklore in another book. Lastly, I have described how the revenue is " settled " and collected, how the peasant is protected from extortion, how he farms the land and makes his living. I have used throughout information stored in a mass of PREFACE Blue Books — Census, Settlement, and Administrative Re- ports, a body of literature practically beyond the ken of English readers ; and I have largely used information derived from Sir W. W. Hunter's Imperial Gazetteer, and those of the North-Western Provinces and Oudh prepared under the orders of the Local Government. For access to many of these, I have to thank the authorities of the India Office Library. For the illustrations I am indebted to Mr J. O'Neal and Sergeant Wallace, R.E., of the Rurki College. Since this book has been in type the true site of Kapila- vastu, the birth-place of the Buddha (p. 66\ has been dis- covered by Dr Fuhrer, in the Nepal Tarai. VI CONTENTS CHAPTER I THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT PAGE The name of the Province now unsuitable — the scene of important historical events — its extent — the river basins — the botmdaries — ^readjustment of its frontiers— <:ompared with Egypt — its great divisions — the climate of tropical intensity — the Himalayan tract — its productions, people, and scenery — the Siwalik range — the Dehra D(in valley — the Tarai and BhSbar — the Vin- dhyan and Kaimfir ranges — the character and scenery of the southern hills — ^the great Plain, its character and scenery — the great rivers — the Khadir and the BUngar — ^the ravine country — the Du4b, its appearance and scenery — the seasons — the teeming village life — the sterile tracts — the Usar plains — reserves for fuel and fodder — destruction of trees — the forests — the sugar-cane crop — the rice — the groves — the tanks — the lakes — the flora — the fauna — large game : the tiger, the leopard, the wolf — snakes — the black buck, other deer — the soils — the climate — fever — storms . . 1-57 CHAPTER II THE PROVINCE UNDER HINDU AND MUSALMAn RULE The Aryan colonisation — the Dasyus — the origin of the Hindu polity and of caste the triumph of Brahmanism — the conversion of the Dravidian races the reformed Brahmanism— the two great epics — the rise of Buddhism — Asoka— Megasthenes— the influence of Greece — the Indo-Skythian in- vasions the Gupta dynasty — the downfall of Buddhism — the Chinese pilgrims — the beginnings of Jainism— the uprising of the servile races — condition of things in the seventh century — first inroads of the Musalmslns the kingdoms of Delhi, Kanauj, and Mahoba — Shihab-ud-dln — the archi- tecture of the Hindus — MahmM of Ghazni — Marco Polo — the movement ^' of the Rajputs to the east— the Slave dynasty— the house of Khilji— the raid of Timflr— Sikandar Lodi— the Mughals— B4bar— the kingdom of Jaunpur — the Mughal conquest — Shir { Shah — Humayun — the reign of Akbar and the condition of the country in his time — the revenue system — his attitude towards Hindus — the failure of the Mughal government — the vii CONTENTS CHAPTER n— continued FAGB ministry, the aristocracy, the Church — the rdgn of Jahinglr, of ShSh- jah4n, of Avuangzeb — the downfall of the Empire — the kingdom of Ondh — the Rohillas — ^the Marhattas — the jats — Mubammadan architecture — the European adventurers — the Begam Samru — ^the Skinner and Gardner estates — the conquest by the British and the formation of the Province S^'''*4 CHAPTER in THE PROVINCE UNDER BRITISH RULE The law of IslSm — mode of trial — corruption of the courts — official morality — canals under the Mughals — state of the roads — the camps of the Emperors — anarchy on the break up of the Empire — Sikh raids — desolation of Rohil- khand — the beginnings of the British rule — the freebooting Pinddris — control of the police — causes of failure in police administration — Thagi — road poisoning — secret poisoning — infanticide — infanticide a cause of violent crime — dacoity — ^the criminal gipsy tribes — the repression of the Sansiyas — canal irrigation — the Upper Ganges Canal — the Lower Ganges Canal — the Eastern Jumna Canal — the Agra Canal — the Betwa Canal — the SSxda Canal — the canal officers — protection from famine by means of artificial irrigation — the fever mortality — ^waste of canal water — Bardwin fever — education — the extent of illiteracy — the Babu — the nativepre ss— want of a popular literature — the illiter- acy of the masses — female education — medical and surgical relief — ophthalmic surgery — distribution of quinine — sanitation — the city popula- tion — the crusade against filth — village sanitation — extension of communi- cations — the roads — the increase of travelling — the revolution in trade — the old trading houses — famine — famines in the period preceding our nile — famines after cm: conquest — the principles of famine relief — the con- gested districts — the District and Municipal Boards — the pohcy of de- centralisation — the Mutiny — its causes — the heroes of the revolt — the incapacity of the rebel leaders — religious riots — the crusade against cow- killing — general result of British administration — employment of natives — the post office — the feeling of the people .... 125-194 CHAPTER IV THE PEOPLE : THEIR ETHNOLOGY AND SOCIOLOGY The earlier colonists — the Nigas — the Dasytis — the affinities of the Dravidians — the Negritic element — the submerged continent — the Skythian immi- grants — the age of stone — the essential unity of the present race — the evidence of anthropometry — the Brahmans and Rajputs a mixed race — the theory of caste — caste based on function— the example given by the viii CONTENTS CHAPTER VJ— continued PACE Br&bmans — ^the people classified according to their traditional occupations — the village menials — the decay of handicrafts — the creation of new groups — the vagrant tribes — the Baheliya — ^the Nat — the criminal gipsies — the BengMi — the Kanjar — the Dom — the Thiru — the pure Dravidian fringe — the Korwas — Northern India as a field for the ethnologist — depreciation of labour— the Sfldra — village and city life — the size of the village— house- room — urban and rural mortality — the conditions of marriage — infant marriage — widow marriage — fecundity of the people — the occupations of women and children — industrial aspect of rural life . . . 195-233 CHAPTER V THE RELIGIOUS AND SOCIAL LIFE OF THE PEOPLE The two great religions — Brihmanism and Isl&m — Buddhism-rjainism — Sikhism — the Parsis — the Jews — the Aryas — Christianity — the external characteristics of the main religions — the definition of a Hindu — BrShmanism defined — Animism defined — the faiths of the people classified — the beliefs of the peasant — the low level of social morality — his theory of disease and death — his pilgrimages — Saivisra — the Vaishna\'a cultus — S^tism — the growth of sects — the spread of BrShmanism among the forest tribes — the worship of saints and martyrs — tribal godlings — the Fakirs — ^the reformed sects — the Rimanandi — the Nanaksbahi — the RS6d4si — Hinduism in its general aspect — its power "of self-defence — Islam in India — causes of the increase of Muhammadanism — distribution of Musalmans — the sects of IsUlm — the Shiah — the Suimi — the social life of the people — the Zamlndar — the house — the hut — furniture — fashion in dress— ^sence of privacy in village life — stagnation of life — amusement — the food of the peasant — ^his clothing — the depressed classes — rise in the condition of the peasant class . ... 234-279 CHAPTER VI THE LAND AND ITS SETTLEMENT The village community — local sub-divisions— survivals of the primitive con- stitution — the Mauza — waste land— the village mark — the size of the village — the Raja and the TalukdSr of Oudh— the Oudh settlement — Mathura a land of peasant proprietors — the recuperative power of the people — the evils of the village system— the village council— the headman — payment of revenue through the post oflSce — the power of procuring partition — the joint responsibility for the revenue demand — the Mahal — State ownership of the soil— Shir Shah and his settlement — Todar Mali — the settlement b ' ix CONTENTS CHAPTER VI— continued PACK under Akbar — forms of tenure— the Zamlndari tenure — the Pattidari tenure — the village records — the new system of revision of settlement — the Per- manent Settlement — attempts to apply it to the Province — share of the produce taken as revenue— pressure of the early assessments — the sale of landed property — the Court of Wards — assessment on rates of produce — decentralisation of the district ..... 280-319 CHAPTER VII THE PEASANT AND THE LAND The population dependent on agriculture — the pressure of the population on the soil — the area of the holding — the margin available for cultivation — double cropping — immigration of the rural population into the towns — / conditions of city life — the growth of cities — new industries — emigration — •" religious migration — migration of women — foreign migration — efficiency of native agriculture — the lack of enterprise of the farmer — adoption of new machinery — the native plough — the use of manure — the exhaustion of ^ the soil — the average produce — planting of waste lands — canal and well irrigation — advances for agricultural improvements — agricultural banks — provision of seed grain — rise in the value of food grains — the rise in rents — rural indebtedness — the methods of the usurer — alleged extravagance of the peasant — litigiousness — the protection of the peasant — the rent law of the North- Western Provinces — of Oudh — classes of tenants — ejectment — enhancement of rents — the fixation of rents — serfage — the budget of the peasant — want of utilisation of by-products — the building of wells — the petite culture . . ..... 320-355 INDEX ... . . . 357.361 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS The Pillar of the State, a Jat Cultivator . . Frontispiece Bhotiya Buddhists II An Agariya Metal Smelter i8 A KORWA . 59 AJat . 117 Group of Mallah Boatmen 167 Group of Kols . • . • • 197 Baheliya Shikaris 212 DOMS 21S Group of Korwas 218 A VaISHNAVA FAKtR 247 FakIr's Hermitage 253 A Ramanandi FakIr . • 255 Dravidian Cultivators 280 Brahmans, with Registers of Clients .... 327 A Banya Grain Merchant 343 THE NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA CHAPTER I THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT A WIDE open Plain, the alluvial valley of the Ganges, Jumna and their tributaries, with a slight uniform slope to the east and south in the direction of the course of the great river seaward towards the Bay of Bengal ; a tract to the north including some of the highest mountains in the world, and separated by a series of valleys from a lower range which bounds the alluvial Plain ; to the south of the Jumna a poorer country, rising from the river bank to the edge of the Vindhyan plateau, part of the backbone of Central India — such is the country known by the clumsy and inappropriate name of the North- Western Provinces and Oudh. This is a name which comes down from the time when our arms had not yet crossed the Jumna and the centre of gravity of our power in northern India lay in Bengal and Calcutta. Times have changed since then, and now the official title of the Province is more unsuitable than ever. We have been, in truth, unfortunate in our provincial nomenclature, in so far that it has little historical continuity. It is only natural that the name of Assam, for instance, a newly occupied country, should be little more than three centuries old. But Panjab, though it represents the old Sanskrit Panchanada, "the land of the five rivers," is a Persian word. Bengal, the land of the Vanga tribe, is not found in common use before the eleventh century; Bombay, the shrine of the goddess Mamba Devi, is at least as old as the middle of the fifteenth, and Madras, the original A I NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA meaning of which is obscure, dates from the middle of the seventeenth century. While Wessex, Sussex and many other English localities hand down the names of early colo- nists, there is here no trace of the kingdom of Panchaia in the centre or of Kosala to the east. It was the Muhamma- dans who for religious motives were most anxious to discard the old Hindu names. In some cases, as when they re- christened the old Prayaga as Allahabad, they succeeded in obliterating the ancient title save in the lips of priests and pilgrims ; but few would now recognise Agra in Akbarabid, Delhi as Shahjahanabad, or Gorakhpur as Muazzamabad. With us the loss of the old names has been more the result of lack of historical instinct than from any desire to widen the gulf between the past and the present Yet it would be hard to find a really suitable name for this rather heterogeneous slice of the Empire. It occupies pretty much the same area as that which the Musalmans called Hindustan, the seat of the early Hindus, who knew the land between the two rivers as Madhyadesa, " the middle land," or Mesopotamia. The western part and the adjoining por- tion of the Panjab they called Punyabhftmi, " the holy land " : Aryavarta or Brahmavarta, " the land of the Aryans and their gods." The term Hindustan has now been extended by the geographers to denote the whole north of the penin- sula, as contrasted with the Deccan (Dakkhin), the southern country, or even to all that we now include in India, exclusive of Burma. In the early days of our occupation we called it the government of Agra after the Mughal capital; and if we were now to rename it it would be difficult to suggest a better title. The more ancient Hindu names are too indefinite and have passed too completely from the memories of the people ever to be again revived. Of all the provinces of the Empire none is of greater interest than this. It is the veritable garden of India, with a soil of unrivalled fertility, for the most part protected from the dangers of famine by a magnificent series of irrigation works : occupied by some of the finest and most industrious of the native races : possessing in its roads and railways an 2 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT unusually perfect system of internal communications. Within its borders or close to its western frontier was the earliest settlement of the Hindu race, and here its religion, laws and social polity were organised. Beneath the ruins of Hasti- napura and Ajudhya lie the remains of the two ancient capitals commemorated in the two famous national epics. Here Buddhism supplanted Brahmanism, only in its turn to succumb to the older faith, and to sink into such utter insignificance in the land of its birth that it has hardly retained a single adherent, while it has given a religion to half the human race. Here are nearly all the shrines of the discredited creed, the scenes of the birth, the preaching, the death of the Teacher. But since they were visited by the old Chinese pilgrims they have fallen into utter neglect, and it is only within the last generation that the sites of most of them have been identified. The interest which some of the modern Buddhists have recently shown in the temple at Gaya may perhaps by and by extend to places like Kusi- nagara, Sravasti, Samath or Sankisa. In later times the country was the prize of one conqueror after another — Ghaznivide, Pathan, Mughal and Sikh, Mar- hatta and Englishmen. Agra yielded to none of the other Mughal capitals in magnificence ; at Jaunpur and Lucknow two subordinate Musalmin dynasties reigned, which pro- foundly influenced its history. This was the ground on which the final struggle for Empire took place, in which the British came out victorious. Here was the chief scene of the Sepoy Mutiny which resulted in the final downfall of the royal family of Delhi, in the course of which Englishmen and Englishwomen shared a common fate at the hands of a faith- less soldiery, and the heroism of the imperial race, suddenly driven to bay, was most nobly displayed. Yet curiously enough, except where Jay Chand of Kanauj fell at the hands of the invading MusalmSn, Shihabuddin, the battle near Agra where Dara Shikoh was defeated by Aurangzeb and the fights of the Mutiny, there is no important battle-field within its boundaries. The rout of Humayun by the Afghan Shir Shah occurred just beyond its eastern limits; the historic 3 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA field ot Panipat, where the fate of India was thrice decided, lies a short distance beyond its border to the Avest. Mere figures and small scale maps do little to help us to realise the importance of the charge which the conditions of our Indian Empire impose upon a small body of English officers. It conveys little practical information to be told that the area of the province is 107,503 square miles, and the population 47^ millions. To put this in another way — the total population is about the same as that of the whole German Empire in an area rather smaller than that of Italy. Its area is slightly less than that of the Transvaal, but be- tween black men and white men President Kruger governs only 800,000 souls, which would be smaller than the average charge of an Indian Collector. The North- West Provinces alone have a population little less than that of the United Kingdom ; Oudh includes twice as many souls as Belgium, which, again, has less people than one division, that of Gorakhpur. The Lucknow division alone contains more people than Ireland or Scotland, Sweden, Portugal or Hol- land, Canada or Ceylon. One district, Basti, exceeds in population New South Wales and New Zealand put together. Geographically speaking, the Province may be said to include the upper basins of three great rivers — the Ganges, Jumna and GhSgra, and their tributaries. The two former rising in the Native State of Garhwal at the extreme north- west corner from the snows of the inner Himalaya, debouch at once into the open plain through which they pass till they join at Allahabad. Just beyond the eastern frontier, in the province of Bihir, the united stream, henceforward known as the Ganges, is met by three other great rivers. Of these two, the Ghagra and the Gandak are also snow-fed, and after passing through Nepal, pour their waters into the lower Plain, the Ghagra with its tributary the Rapti draining Oudh and Gorakhpur, while the Gandak only just touches the Province to the east and then trends away through Bihar. The third important river, the Son, is not like the others fed by the snows. It drains part of the Vindhyan plateau, and after passing through a part of the Mirzapur district to the south- 4 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT east, sweeps round to meet the Ganges further on in its course. The boundaries of the Province nowhere exactly agree with the physical conditions by which it is dominated ; its limits, in fact, everywhere indicate that it was formed not on ethnical or geographical considerations, but was the result of historical influences. It does not follow to the north the natural frontier of the lower Himalaya, because to the north- west it includes a portion of the inner and higher range with the intervening valleys, and on the extreme east it has sur- rendered a part of the Tarii or malarious jungle at the foot of the hills to Nepil. To the west and south its natural limits would have been the Jumna ; but opposite Mathura and Agra it includes patches of territory, which from a geo- graphical point of view should form part of Rajputana, and further south the Bundelkhand country, which on physical and ethnical grounds would naturally be included among the States of Central India. Its proper frontier to the east would be either the river Ghagra or the Gandak. With the former as its border it would lose a valuable part of Oudh and Gorakhpur: with the latter it would gain from Bengal a rich piece of Bihar. Before long some readjustment of the Provincial adminis- trations of northern India is inevitable, if only to relieve Lower Bengal, which has an area equal to that of the United Kingdom with the addition of a second Scotland, and a population as great as that of the United States and Mexico combined — a charge quite beyond the powers of any single governor. Bengal will probably be relieved for the present by combining the division of Chittagong to the east with Assam. But sooner or later a more radical redistribution of territory must be effected, and this will probably result in the addition of the eastern districts of the North-West provinces to the new Province of Bihar, which would then be as large as a quarter of the German Empire with a population as great as that of England and Wales. This tract will then be physically and ethnically homogeneous and administered under the same revenue system, that of the Permanent 5 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA Settlement We shall lose, by the severance of Benares and the neighbouring districts, some of the most fertile parts of the Province; but the relief to the already overburdened Local Government will be welcome. The present frontier, again, is neither ethnical nor linguistic. To include all the Hindi-speaking peoples it would be neces- sary to absorb the eastern Panjab and Bihir with a still larger area annexed from RajputSna and Central India ; and men of the same race are found both east and west of the Jumna and Gandak and north and south of the Ganges. But it is only in newly settled countries like Canada and western America that administrative divisions can be marked oiif by straight lines on a map, and the limits of a Province formed on the ruins of ancient empires must conform to historical or political considerations and to none other. Looking at the country merely from the physical point of view, it may perhaps be best compared with Egypt — the river system of the Jumna and Ganges representing the Nile, the Arabian and Lybian hills, the mountain barrier to the north and the Vindyan and Kaimur ranges to the south. But the Nile valley with an area of ii,000 square miles is only about the size of the division of Rohilkhand and its population is about equal to that of the Faizib^d division. In other respects the contrast is no less striking. The Indian province is ours whether for good or ill by right of conquest ; no foreign power can or does claim rights of co-dominion with us. We have no frontier to guard against a Khalifa and his Dervishes ; there are no jealous neighbours and we are quite beyond the dangers arising from European statecraft. But in the antiquity of the relics of an ancient civilisation there is no comparison. The monumental history of Egypt begins some forty centuries before the beginning of our era; the oldest building in northern India cannot be fixed with cer- tainty before the time of Asoka, who lived about the era of the first Punic war. We have nothing which can be com- pared with the Pyramids, the temples like those of Karnak or the rock sepulchres with their wall paintings and sculptures which so vividly represent the life of those early times. 6 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT The Province, as a whole, includes perhaps greater diversi- ties of physical aspect, scenery and climate than any other country of the same area on the face of the earth. The only country with which a comparison is possible is Peru, with its Sierra or lofty mountain tract and the Montana, or region of tropical forests in the valley of the Amazon. To the north are stupendous mountains covered with eternal snow; be- neath them a lower range with a more equable climate, clothed with dense jungle and abundant vegetation ; below these, again, a line of malarious woodland and vast savannahs of grass and reeds. Passing these we reach the alluvial Plain, populated almost up to the limits of subsistence by a most industrious population, subject to a tropical climate, swept by winds at one time of the year whose breath is as the breath of a furnace, at another gasping under the damp heat of the rainy season, at a third chilled by the sharp touch of frost ; and beyond these, again, clusters of low hills covered with scrub jungle and exposed in summer to the fiercest heat of the sun. The Province may then naturally be divided into three tracts — the northern mountain r^ion : the central Plain : the southern hill country. The following table illustrates their varied conditions : — Tract. Districts. Area in Square JIUes. Density of Population per square mile. Rainfall in inches. Himalayan Plains — (a) Submontane, . . (6) Upper Duib, . . (c) Central Duib, Id) North Central, . (e) South Central, 3 7 5 6 7 IS 13,973 l8,202 10,133 10,139 14,166 25,300 81 486 509 470 499 652 62". 13 46".43 3i:.2S 28".38 38^.29 38".42 Plains, Total, Southern, 40 6 77,890 15,639 221 37-.5. NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA These figures bring out the enormous predominance in area and population of the Plains as compared with the rest of the Province. Some of the southern districts, such as Mirzapur and part of Bundelkhand, include a hilly tract on the skirts of the central Plain ; but this fact does not to any considerable degree affect the figures, which show that the Plain tract includes about 72 per cent, of the area and 89 per cent, of the total population. This enables us to dispose of a misapprehension which very generally prevails among English people, and is mainly based on the inexpressive title of the province. It is very commonly supposed that when an officer is lucky enough to escape the Bengal delta, or the less favoured Presidencies of Madras or Bombay, he necessarily spends most of his time in the Hills. The globe-trotter sees him here in the cold weather enjoying an excellent climate and pleasant surround- ings, and wonders what is the justification for the higher rates of pay which the Anglo-Indian enjoys as compared with officials of a similar grade in Europe. But as a matter of fact, the average official has little concern with the Hills. The mountainous tract to the south contains no health stations, and the heat of Bundelkhand is even more trying than that of the Plains north of the Jumna. In the Hima- layan tract there are two leading health resorts, Mussoorie and Naini TSl, the latter the headquarters of the Provincial Government during the more unhealthy season. Besides a small number of Secretaries and the normal civil staff of these Hill districts, there is a considerable influx of visitors, ladies and children, and those officers who can be spared from regimental duty, or civil officials who are unable to utilise short leave for a visit to England. But the number of officials who are able to retire to the Hills periodically, or are permanently posted there, is very small. The ordinary servant of the Crown, military or civil, spends most of his time in the Plains or in the southern hill country. Most of the European and native troops are posted in the Plains, at great cantonments like Meerut, Lucknow, Bareilly, or Allahabad. The High Court sits THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT permanently in the Plains, and there the chief offices of the Provincial Government are established. Only a very small proportion of the executive staff, magistrates, police officers, engineers, school inspectors. Custom officers, and so on, serve anywhere but in the Plains. It is, in short, the great tropical Plain which dominates everything ; those parts of the terri- tory ruled by the Lieutenant-Governor which lie beyond it are in all but mere area inconsiderable ; from the political and executive point of view they are distinctly a negligeable quantity. Any candidate for the public service who selects this Province in the expectation that he will spend most of his service in an excellent climate will be sorely dis- appointed. Taking up these three physical divisions of the Province, we have first the Himalayan tract, which includes three dis- tricts — GarhwS.1, Almora and Naini TSl, all under the charge of the Commissioner of Kumaun. Of these, two districts, GarhwSl and Kumaun, are well within the higher mountain zone ; while Naini TSl includes the tract of malarious swamp and jungle at the foot of the lower hills, and between them and the Plains, which is known as the TarSi and Bhibar, and must be separately described. Of the purely mountainous districts, a mass of tangled peaks and valleys, it is difficult to give a general sketch. It includes some of the most lofty mountains in the world, clothed with eternal snow. Nanda Devi, consecrated in the Hindu faith as the guardian goddess of the range, soars to a height of 25,661 feet ; Kamet and Badarinith are respectively 25,413 and 22,901 feet above sea level. These are a little lower than Mount Everest, the giant of the eastern part of the range. But they are slightly higher than the South American Andes, and we have to go to the Pamir or Karakorum range to find a worthy rival to these magnificent peaks. This region roughly falls into three divisions. First, we have the outer Himalaya, with a height of from 5000 to 8500 feet, which rise abruptly from the lower Plain, and then sink sharply to the north into deep and narrow valleys. Here the clouds rising from the ocean first strike the mountain 9 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA barrier and produce an excessive rainfall, the general average being from 80 to 90 inches, about the same as that of the Scotch Highlands, but all concentrated within little more than a quarter of the year. There is little arable soil, and the climate, except on the breezy summits of the hills, is malarious and unhealthy ; population is scanty, and the country is mostly covered with dense forest. Behind these heights are lower hills and wider valleys, receiving a rainfall little more than half that of the outer barrier. Here cultiva- tion is more dense and cultivation more extensive. Behind these, again, are the giant peaks and higher valleys, which during the winter are impassable from snow, and in the summer are inhabited by a scanty nomadic population of cowherds, wood-cutters, and Tibetan traders, who barter wool and borax, and take back in exchange salt, cloth, and metals, which are hauled up with infinite labour to these higher levels from the marts in the lower country. The mineral resources of this inaccessible land are prob- ably great, but have been as yet imperfectly explored. In Kumaun iron and copper abound, but the competition for labour on tea-gardens and agriculture has nearly doubled the price of grain ; hence the local iron is no longer able to com- pete with imported supplies. The same is the case with the copper mines, from which much was at one time expected. The rude indigenous system of finding and refining the ore has given way before the cheaper article from Europe. The mines are too much isolated, too far from profitable markets, worked by too inefficient methods, to make the industry remunerative. It will need a more advanced plan of working cheaper and more abundant labour, improved communica- tions, before mining in Kumaun or Garhwal can be carried on with success. Gold in small quantities is found in the sands of the Alak- nanda and other tributaries of the Ganges ; but as yet the matrix has not been reached, and the process of collection is extremely primitive and laborious. There is a small quantity of gold imported by Bhotiya traders from the Tibetan hills, a fact which was probably the origin of the fable of the gold- 10 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT bearing ants told by Herodotus and other early writers. The trade is checked by the prevailing superstition that no large nugget should be removed because it belongs to the genii of the place — an idea which crops up everywhere throughout the whole range of folk-lore. The European tea-planter has. gradually forced his way some distance up the lower slopes ; but, as regards climate, this region is distinctly inferior to Assam : and it is highly improbable that in the tea industry it will ever secure a leading position. The inhabitants are few; but they thrive because their wants are simple, and they derive some income from employ- ment as wood-cutters, and bearers of litters for the European visitors to the health resorts, and from the adventurous Hindu pilgrims who throng to the famous shrines along the upper course of the Ganges and its tributaries. A simple- minded, hardy, cheery fellow, the hillman is in decided contrast to the menial village serf of the Plains, debilitated by fever and the rigour of his environment. But he has little of the courage and martial spirit which makes the Gurkha of Nepal one of the best of our native mercenaries. We meet occasionally, at the foot of the hills, the quaint figures of Bhotiya wanderers from Tibet, with their Mongo- loid faces, squat figures and grotesque dress. These are about the only adherents of the Buddhist faith likely to be met with within the boundaries of the Province. The scenery is everywhere beautiful in the extreme. No one who has ever seen them will forget the view of the snows at sunrise and sunset, as they glow with all the tints of opal and of pearl against the northern sky. Bishop Heber writes of the view from Bareilly: "The nearer hills are blue, and in outline and tints resemble pretty closely, at this distance, those which close in the valley of Clwyd. Above tliem rose what might, in the present unfavourable atmosphere, have been taken for clouds, had ' not their seat been so stationary, and their outline so harsh and pyramidical, the patriarchs of the continent, perhaps the' surviving ruins of a former world, white and glistening as alabaster and even at this distance, II NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA probably 150 miles, towering above the nearer and secondary range, as much as these last (though said to be 7600 feet high) are above the Plain on which we are standing. I felt intense awe and delight in looking on them ; but the clouds closed in again, as on the fairy castle of St John, and left us but the former grey cold horizon, girding in the green plain of Rohilkhand, and broken only by scattered tufts of pipal and mango trees." ^ Reaching the heights themselves, the view is not less beautiful. From the top of China, which rises over the lake and station of Naini TSl, we look over the lovely wooded mountains of the Gagar range, clothed thick with oak and pine, mingled with the gorgeous flowers of the rhododendron, and thence to the forest of the Bhabar, which lies almost at our feet ; beyond it the swamps of the Tarai, and then in tlae dim distance the green plain of Rohilkhand. Turning to the north we have a scene which only a poet or painter could depict — a chaotic mass of mountains, thickly wooded hill sides seamed with deep ravines, dark blue ranges piled one beyond another ; and, as a background to the landscape, the immense snowy peaks, never trodden by the foot of man ; the evening falls and they fade slowly into the darkening sky, peopled by innumerable stars. So from Mussoorie, as the mists dissolve from the lowlands, we have an unrivalled panorama of wood and silver streams encircled by rocky or forest-covered hills, now glowing with the aiiiber tints that accompany the fall of the leaf, now at night lit by the fierce glare of a jungle fire, and here and there in the distance the emerald green of rice or wheatfields. Grander still is the first burst of the monsoon, when the water-laden clouds from the ocean impinge on the mountain barrier and pour a deluge over the lower hills, setting every rivulet in flood, and sometimes bearing down the wooded hill sides in a chaos of ruin. By and by the damp billows of fog roll up from the valley and shroud the landscape in an impenetrable pall of vapour. All this, to the Hindu of the Plain, is the land of myth ' Journal, L 248. 12 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT and mystery, associated with the most ancient and sacred traditions of his race. Here live his deities, each in a paradise of his own, on the summits of the trackless peaks. Here the P^ndavas sought a way to heaven amidst the eternal snows, and in dark caves and secluded hermitages the sages of the old world puzzled out the secrets of life and time. In sequestered valleys, deep amid the bosom of the hills, were shrines, like Kedimath and Badarinath, which were far beyond the range of the Pathan and Mughal who raided and ravished in the Plain below ; here for many ages the indigenous Hindu civilisation was permitted to develop, safe from foreign influence. Every rock and spring and stream is the home of some legend told by the forefathers of the people. Beyond the eternal hills lay Uttara Kuru, the paradise of the faithful — " the island valley of Avilion " — " Where falls not hail or rain or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it lies Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns.' Flanking this mountainous region is the lower range, known as the Siwiliks, the home of Siva or Mahadeva, behind which lies embosomed the fertile valley of Dehra Dun. It is only quite within recent years that this fair territory has been opened up. Here a connecting ridge forms the watershed of the Ganges and the Jumna. It was here, at the siege of Kalanga during the Nepal war, that we gained our first real experience of Gurkha gallantry. After our occupation the experiment of colonisation through the agency of European grantees was tried, with little practical result But, as the jungle is gradually cleared, with diminish- ing malaria and extension of irrigation, it is sure to become the seat of a thriving agricultural peasantry ; and once the railway is pushed on to the base of the hills, Dehra and Mussoorie will certainly become important European colonies. While the higher ranges behind consist to a great extent of crystalline, metamorphic rocks, the sub-Himalaya is built up of soft sandstone, but all so broken and disturbed by the 13 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA action of cosmic forces that there is little continuity of structure, and the stone which it supplies is of small value for building purposes. It is broken into sharp, rugged peaks, with precipitous ravines, and clothed so densely with jungle that it affords a safe asylum for the larger fauna, the wild elephant, the tiger and the simbhar stag. This forms the most valuable part of the forest tract protected by the State. Here, during the hot season when the scrub and under- growth are as dry as tinder, a spark let fall by some careless cowherd or traveller may result in a serious conflagration, and the forest officer must ever be on the alert to hasten to the scene of danger and isolate or extinguish the flames. Beneath these lower hills and separating them from the plain lie the tracts known as the Tarai or lowland and the Bhabar. This is the ethnical frontier between the low and the upper country. The Bhabar is a tract of waterless jungle, where the underlying clay stratum extending to the foot of the hills has been overlaid by a mass of gravel and boulders, the detritus of the overhanging hills, washed down by the streams which drain them. In the rainy season the numerous torrents cut into the upper soil, and in the ravines thus formed the characteristic features of the region become apparent. The splendid trees of the forest derive their support from only a scanty layer of earth above the under- lying mass of shingle. It is from the vapour-laden air that they receive the moisture which promotes their growth, but even here there is not that lavish luxuriance of growth which is found in the damper tropical life of the South American forests. Through the shingly subsoil the drainage rapidly percolates, leaving the upper surface arid and waterless, only to appear again lower down the slope, and after passing through the marshes of the Tarai, to feed the rivers which traverse the Plains, and end in the system of the Ganges and its tributaries. This tract is colonised in an intermittent way by emigrants from the hills, who retire periodically to the higher levels when malaria is most prevalent. The Tarai thus becomes a region of marsh and fen, a land of sluggish streams and water-choked morasses, the soil a 14 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT moist alluvial formation which encourages the growth of coarse grasses and thickets of reeds, in which in the hot weather the tiger, wild ..buffalo, and swamp deer find a congenial home. This tract is called in popular parlance the Mar, which the people interpret to mean " the land of death," but which may be better explained as "the wilderness." Here the water is so near the surface that wherever a buffalo rolls in the mud or a stick is pushed into the clammy soil a spring gushes out. At nightfall the mists raised from the saturated ground by the fierce heat of the sun collect like a pall over the landscape, and bring the justly dreaded jungle fever in their train. In some places the patient labours of the marsh-dwellers, the , Thirus and cognate tribes, have pushed the sheet of cultivation right up to the foot of the hills, and the land is covered with a rich harvest of rice. But they do this at the sacrifice of health and strength, their stunted frames, swollen spleens, yellow skins and diminished families tell the tale of their struggle with the unhealthiness of the climate. It is one of the current fictions which swarm in the records of Indian sociology that the Thiru is proof against malaria. As a matter of fact, it has been shown in Bengal, where he lives under pretty much the same conditions as in this Province, that he stands much lower, as might have been anticipated, in the scale of fecundity and average duration of life than other castes who enjoy healthier climatic conditions. It is remarkable that this tract, which is now exposed to malaria in a most dangerous form, was once the seat of an opulent and advanced civilisation. The Tarai is full of ancient ruins, fine old mango groves, sculptures and wells, the remains of thriving cities. We know from the evidence of the Chinese Buddhist pilgrims that the Gorakhpur jungles contained flourishing towns before the fourth, while showing signs of deterioration in the seventh, century. The failure of the Muhammadans to extend their conquests to the hills shows that in their days the country was quite as unhealthy and impenetrable as it is at present. Hence perhaps from sheer necessity it was chosen as the site of cities of refuge, IS NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA where the persecuted Buddhist or the Rajput chieftain, dis- possessed by the Musalman invader may have sought shelter. When we see in recent years the effect of a sudden outbreak of fever in some of the flourishing districts of the Ganges- Jumna Duab, we can understand that a calamity of the same kind may have wrecked the civilisation of the TarSi. Perhaps the cosmic forces of elevation and depression, which have not as yet exhausted their energy, may have altered the condition of things. We come next to consider the lower hills south of the rivers Jumna and Ganges. Here the conditions are very different from those of the northern region. The hills here are known as the Vindhyan and Kaimur ranges and are part of the mountain system stretching right across the centre of the peninsula, the home of scattered Dravidian tribes such as Santais and Gonds, Bhils, Kharwars, and their kinsfolk. The word Vindhya means " the divider," and this range was for many ages the political as well as the ethnic frontier between Hindustan, or the land of the earlj'- Hindus, and the Deccan (Dakkhin) or south country. It was across this range that adventurous Hindu missionaries in ancient times forced their way and brought the knowledge of the faith into the southern parts of the peninsula. But after that it was permitted to work out its social development undisturbed by the lords of the Ganges valley until its conquest was under- taken in earnest by the Musalmans. In direct contrast to the northern tract, we have here hills of only moderate height, rising to the elevation of about 5000 feet — little more than that of Ben Nevis. The jungle is much scantier and less luxuriant, the water supply almost everywhere limited, in some places so insufficient that the village women have to go miles to find a spring, or draw their supplies from fetid water holes which they share with the cattle and the beasts of the forest, and a traveller must care- fully select his halting-place in some favoured spot amidst the arid wilderness. On these low, bare, stony hills the heat of the summer sun beats with terrific force. Parts of the country in drought and desolation vie with the rainless peaks 16 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT which surround the Gulf of Suez or line the Arabian desert. This deficiency of the water supply is the main cause of the curious scarcity of animal life. It is only in the recesses of the heavier jungle that the tiger, the sambhar stag and the spotted deer find a home. A few ravine deer occupy the broken sides of the lower hills, and here will be sometimes seen a sounder of pig of a leaner, gaunter type than the heavy beast of the Plains which battens in swamp and cane brake. The graceful black buck is occasionally seen, but his horns never reach the length of those of his brethren in the neighbourhood of Mathura or Bhartpur. Even the hill tiger is a different animal from that of the Tarai. He is a shorter, fiercer, and more active brute, trained to greater endurance, his muscles toughened by the long range of country he must cover nightly in search of prey. The leopard, too, from his environment, is distinguishable from the Bengal species. In the damp Himalayan forests he is darker and redder in colour, and has larger spots than in the Central Indian hills. Some naturalists have gone so far as to separate the' two varieties ; but the best authorities are disposed to consider them identical in species — the difference being due to the fact that one is the denizen of thick, marshy swamps or damp jungle, the other inhabiting the rock caves or the bamboo clumps and stunted thickets of the waterless hills. , Were the water supply more abundant this country would be the sportsman's paradise. In some favoured spots the tiger and leopard abound, and find plentiful supplies of food in the droves of half-starved cattle which are driven up from the Plains to eke out a precarious subsistence on the scanty herbage, which, poor as it is, is more abundant here than in the home pastures, burnt brown by the fierce heat of summer. When the hot west wind blows strongly the herdsmen set fire to the crisp undergrowth, and with the first shower of the rains, the hills are again green with fairly abundant grasses. In this land of drought the absence of bird life is specially noticeable. While in the Plains they nestle in every grove, and the morning air rings with the notes of innumerable B 17 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA birds, here they follow man, and are found only in the neigh- bourhood of water, round the scattered patches of cultivation or in a few of the moister ravines or valleys. Here the oak, pine and deodar of the north are replaced by a scanty jungle of gnarled and stunted trees, the bastard Sai, the catechu acacia and the cotton tree. The bamboo abounds, but seldom attains much luxuriance of growth ; it is only in favoured spots that the more valuable Sal and teak are to be found. But it is where water combines with woodland, hill and ravine that the scenery really becomes lovely. Such is the valley of the Son, which drains the central plateau into the Ganges. Towards the Ganges the Vindhyan range slopes down to the valley in successive terraces or gradual de- clivities. We are led up to the first complete view of the rich Plain below by occasional glimpses of the greenery of grove and field scattered here and there along the descent, with the grey sands and silvery waters of the great river on the northern horizon. But where the plateau meets the Son the more stable sandstones form a sheer precipice a couple of hundred feet high, an almost perpendicular wall of rock, from which, as from the battlement of a great fortress, you look down on sheets of virgin forest, and beyond this on the yellow sands which fringe the river. Hence the old Sanskrit poets gave it the name of Hiranya-viha, " the gold bearer," and the modern Hindu calls it Sona, " the golden." In earlier times considerable quantities of gold seem to have been found in Chota NSgpur, and recent discoveries make it possible that gold mining may be largely revived in this part of the country. As it is at present, the only mining industry is a little iron manufacture carried on by the Agariyas, a tribe of Dravidian smelters who carry on their occupation in a most primitive way. This and a little agriculture, the collection of silk cocoons, lac, catechu, gums and other jungle products are the only industries of the dwellers in the forest. In the way of forest scenery it would be hard to find in India anything finer than the valley of the Son ; but it can i8 f**^-'^'^. AW AGAKIVA MKTAL SMELTt.R Wl I H ll.\ ANU FOOT-D1-LLO\VS THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT be reached only by a long and tedious march from the Gangetic Plain, and is as yet quite unknown to the tourist. While along the Ganges you meet wide stretches of grey sand and beyond it a sheet of cultivation, here the jungle extends right down to the rocky bank and clothes the rolling hills to the south, supremely lovely in its vivid greenery at the close of the rains, and in its tints of crimsonor amber at the approach of early summer. Dominating over the whole landscape is the sombre, buttress-like peak of Mangesar, the mountain godling of the jungle people. Here and there, as at Agori and Bijaygarh, are seen the ruins of the rude strong- holds, built by the early, R3.jput settlers to overawe the aborigines, now a placid, timid race, in whom it is hard to recognise the successors of the wild, independent savages, who, if the local legends are to be trusted, were once can- nibals, eaters of raw flesh, and carried on a fierce guerilla warfare with the invaders throughout this rude borderland. But, on the whole, these southern jungles will disappoint the visitor who expects to meet a world of tropical vegeta- tion, immense trees crowded together in a damp fertile soil, the festoons of creepers, the choking undergrowth, the abun- dant animal and vegetable life. The jungle is in most places hardly more than patches of scrub, the trees of small size, their trunks gnarled and twisted, their leaves green only when moisture prevails in the rainy season, and parched to a dull, dusty brown, as the sky clears and they are baked by the sun. Some of the trees add to the dreariness of the landscape — the cotton tree with its gaunt, grey trunk, the Salai rising with its ashy, leafless branches, above the under- growth, give the forest a bleak and wintry appearance. The Kulu, to quote Captain Forsyth, "looks as if the megatherium might have climbed its uncouth and ghastly branches at the birth of the world." So far we have spoken chiefly of Mirzapur. Further west in Bundelkhand, from an eminence you see nothing but the rugged crests of innumerable hillocks, from which all cultur- able soil has been washed into the ravines, and which roll towards the horizon like the waves of a troubled sea. In 19 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA some places immense masses of rock are piled together in the wildest confusion. Up to their very base extend patches of the richest black cotton soil. This soil is, as will be shown later on, probably composed of disentegrated laterite, poured out in ancient times from the crater of some vast Central Indian volcano, of which no trace can now be found. Many of the Vindhyan hills are tipped with a reddish fer- ruginous substance, the detritus or scoriae which resulted from igneous action. In some instances this is replaced by veins of quartz, which traverse the gneiss or tip the low sandstone hills, as in Mirzapur. These Vindhyan sandstones are of immense geological antiquity, perhaps pre-Silurian. But as they are devoid of fossils, their precise age cannot be determined with certainty. They produce an admirable building stone, which formed the material of all the ancient stone buildings in the Gangetic valley, and quarries near Agra, Allahabad, and Chunar are still extensively worked. The marble of the TS.j, and the palaces of Agra and Delhi, was procured at an excessive cost of labour from MakrSna in the Jodhpur Sate, far to the west in RSjputana. From these two areas, which may be termed the Himalayan and the Vindhyan fringes, we pass to the great Plain itself. This is only the upper portion of the alluvial valley of the Ganges, which extends from Hardwar to the Delta, where the river finally joins the ocean. As a river it ranks high among the rivers of the world. In historic interest and in its services to agriculture it may be compared with the Nile. There is, however, this important difference — from the Atbara to the Mediterranean, a distance of 1200 miles, the Nile does not receive a single brook : the Ganges all through its course is constantly reinforced by tributary streams. The length of the Nile, again, which is estimated at 3400 miles from Lake Victoria Nyanza, is about double that of the Ganges, 1557 miles; but the maximum discharge of the Ganges at Rajmahai is five times that of the Nile at Cairo. As to the origin of this vast Plain there has been much speculation ; but the problem cannot be completely solved until much deeper borings are made. According to one 20 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT theory an Eocene sea once extended like a great estuary through the middle of' the Peninsula, its waters lapping the rocky barrier to the north and south ; subsequently the silt- bearing waters of the rivers, laden with the detritus of the Himalaya, gradually filled up the depression. According to another account its depression was contemporaneous with the disturbance and contortion of the Himalaya. Messrs Medlicott and Blanford, the best and most recent authorities, incline to the latter view, and suggest tha!t "the crust movements, to which the elevation of the Himalayas and of the Panjab, Sindh and Burmese ranges are due, may have also produced the depression of the Indo-Gangetic Plain, and that the two movements may have gone on pari passu" both being to some extent still in progress. Borings, so far as they have been made into the deeper strata in the course of the erection of bridges and other buildings, show only successive deposits of sand and clay; and the only thing in the nature of a rock which the soil contains is patches of what is called Kankar, a nodular carbonate of lime, most valuable for building purposes, and admirable as road metal. This is, of course, quite a recent formation, and its deposition continues at the present time. Through this unstable alluvium the rivers have cut their present courses. Their task is one of constant demolition and reconstruction. At one spot, as the current impinges on the friable bank, it gradually undermines it, and by and by immense masses of the upper surface soil come toppling down into the current, only to be dissolved at once in the water and carried along and deposited on some new site further down the course of the stream. In such seasons at night camping near the river bank, you will hear the sound as of distant artillery, when tons of stuff at a time plunge into the river. Occasionally the damage done is really serious, when ancient mango groves, temples and homesteads are swept away. A year or two ago, from danger of this kind, it became necessary to abandon Ballia, the headquarters of the most eastern district, and it was considered hopeless to attempt to save even the public buildings and the residences 21 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA of the officials. If you desire a really exciting life, you have only to purchase one of these riverine properties. If the current sets against your lands you may be made a b^gar in a single night; or, perchance, the stream in a more genial mood may pile rich banks of silt along your border, which may continue stable for years and grow magnificent harvests ; or the fickle current may sweep it all away again with some of your own best land in the bargain. In any case whatever land you gain you will have to hold through vexatious civil, criminal and revenue suits, and by the time the final decree is issued the whole face of the neighbour- hood may have changed. No more arduous task falls upon the district officials than the investigation of cases such as these. A claimant will sometimes appear and assert rights dormant for a generation over a patch of sandbank which now occupies the assumed site of a village long since de- molished. Possession is here more than the proverbial nine points of the law. The rude bludgeon-men of the riverine villages need little provocation to turn out and resist rival claimants ; serious riots and loss of life have often occurred in quarrels of this kind. Another difficulty which meets the investigating officer is that of comparing ancient maps. Where the whole surface of the neighbourhood is completely changed from year to year, it is extremely difficult to find any certain point from which to commence measurements. Often he has to abandon the river bank altogether, and go some distance inland to find an ancient temple, or some tree or boundary pillar, from whence he can with some degree of confidence start the survey. One thing is certain — this periodical movement of the great rivers, which seems to be in some degree influenced by the revolution of the earth, will not be checked by the feeble hand of man. However cunningly he designs an embankment, however deep he plants his piles and ranges his fascines, the subtle genius of the stream will find a means to evade or undermine them : or it gaily works its way through the friable alluvium behind them and leaves 22 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT them high and dry as a proof of its contempt for humanity and all its works. So is it ever with him who essays to draw out Leviathan with a hook or push back the ocean with a mop. These variations of the river's course may arise from the most trivial causes. A snag gets safely anchored in the mud, becomes the nucleus of a shoal and diverts the current ; a sunken boat, a deposit of Kankar, a bed of stiff clay will produce the same effect. But some rivers are more sedate than others. The Jumna, for instance, maintains a fairly definite course. Writing of Farrukhibad, Sir C. Elliott tells us that " the Ganges, as becomes its great age, keeps sedately within its bed, and only rolls wearily from one side to the other. But the R&mganga is a gambolling vagabond, and wanders at its own sweet will over many miles of country, carving out beds capriciously for itself, and leaving them as illogically ; so that it becomes quite exciting to watch it in its frolics and to mark off on the map, as one inspects villages day by day, the- different past courses of the river." Hence in many places we find that the river has completely abandoned its ancient course and carved out a new channel for itself many miles away. Such is what is known as the Bflrh Ganga — "old lady Ganges" — which can be traced in a line of swamps from the Aligarh district down to Farrukhibid. That this was the ancient course of the stream is shown by the shrines and hermitages which stud its banks for close on a hundred miles. From the MusalmSn chronicles it would seem that this change in the river's course occurred in the time of the Emperor Akbar, in the middle of the sixteenth century. More than twenty years ago the Gh^gra performed a similar feat in the Gorakhpur district, severing during one rainy season some forty square miles of country from one of its baronies. A fickle stream like this is the worst enemy of the peasant. He never knows when it may sweep across his fields in destructive floods ; as Virgil says — Pluvia ingenti sata laeta boumque labores diluit. Or it may carry off all the arable soil and leave only sterile sand, or it may deposit valuable silt. 23 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA Under such conditions agriculture is a simple lottery and this in a great measure accounts for the recklessness and improvi- dence of the riverine proprietors. Connected with this kind of fluvial action is the well recognised distinction between what are known as the Kh^dir and the Bingar, — the former the lands close to the river bed which are liable to annual flooding with the resultant alluvion or diluvion; the latter the stable uplands, which though themselves the gift of the river in ancient times, are now no longer exposed to its influence. The Khidir of the larger rivers has something of the same character as that of the Lincolnshire Fens. In the rainy- season much of it is for a time submerged. Sometimes the retreating floods leave behind them a deposit of rich silt; sometimes arid sand. Trees are few and lose their vigour as they force their roots deep into the sloppy subsoil. Here and there patches of tamarisk give shelter to sounders of wild pig, which boldly ravage at night the crops on the adjacent highlands, and with the first flush of dawn cautiously retreat into the thick covers on the edge of the river. Their incur- sions impose a heavy burden of field-watching upon the peasant, and check the production of the more valuable crops, such as the sugar-cane, which these animals specially love. Here British officers of the Tent Club make their annual outing and enjoy the most manly and exciting sport which the country affords. Their visits are, it is needless to say, welcome to the people, who will gladly turn out to beat the covers and assist in the hunt. The clean-feeding jungle boar is in quite a different category fro^ the foul domesticated pig which swarms in the hamlets set aside for the village menial races, and deserves the abhorrence which is felt towards it all through the oriental world. But for the wild boar the peasant has a healthy respect. He has little confidence in his old musket and rusty sword as weapons of off"ence against him. If no Sahib cares to spear him he will employ a gang of Kanjar gypsies or wild-eyed, savage Banjara nomads to thin their numbers. But if there is a chance of sport he will not take active measures against them for the same consideration 24 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT that makes the English farmer's wife tolerant of an occasional raid by Reynard into her poultry yard. From the verge of the uplands the Khadir in the cold weather presents the appearance of a flat desolate expanse. The grass has by this time lost its autumn greenness and assumes the brown tint which characterises the landscape. In places there are sluggish streams and reedy marshes where wildfowl of all kinds abound — snipe and teal and ducks of many varieties, kingfishers and waders, contemplative paddy birds immersed in the stalk of the wary frog ; a line of grey geese appears through the mist as with the approach of day they leave the gram field and seek shelter on some open sandbank amidst the stream. A jackal gorged with carrion creeps into the shade of the sedge ; a stealthy wolf, his jaws red with the blood of kid or fawn, sneaks through some thicket. Villages are few save where some eminence affords a site raised high above flood level and gives a chance of saving the cattle when the floods are out. Usually there is only a hamlet of makeshift huts which can be easily abandoned in time of danger. Cultivation is scanty : but the soil, if not so deep and strong as that of the uplands, has at least the vigour of freshness ; the population is so sparse and rents so low that new land can be selected yearly and the crops which can be saved from pigs and wild geese are often highly remunerative. The Khadir, again, supplies excellent grazing for large herds of cattle, for buffaloes in particular, and the Ahtr and GOjar speculate extensively in the production of ghi, the only nitrogenous food which the orthodox Hindu can use. They seal it up in the empty kerosine oil tins which have become such an essential in rural life, and export it to the larger cities. This, except some secluded valleys in the Himalayas, is the last part of the Province where the absence of the men of these tribes for months at a time in charge of their cattle permits the domestic institution of polyandry. Damp and malaria work here as in the Tar4i, and the herdsman of the Khadir is a poor, anemic, fever-stricken creature, a shy semi- savage, whose hand is against everyone ; ready, if chance 25 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA allows, to drive off the cattle of his wealthier neighbours and pass them on from one receiver's stall to another till all trace of them is lost There are special local industries, the cutting of firewood, the collection of thatching grass, fibres for rope, reeds for matting ; and here the Kanjar digs out the fragrant roots of the Khaskhas of which he constructs the fragrant screens with which the European cools his house when the hot west wind blows. In some places, again, and in particular along the Jumna, the Khadir is replaced by a tangle of wild ravines which slope from the uplands to the river's bank. Such is the rough country along the Chambal, which drains the Native States of Gwalior and Dholpur and finally joins the Jumna below EtSwah. Here from an eminence you see as far as the eye can reach a labyrinth of rugged ravines and green valleys covered with acacia jungle, every prominent bluff showing the ruins of some robber stronghold of the olden time. This was for centuries a No Man's Land, an Alsatia occupied by wild Rijput tribes, robbers and raiders by pro- fession, who settled on the flank of the Imperial highway through the Duib, and were a thorn in the side of the Musal- m^n administration. Many a tale is told of raid and rapine committed by these sturdy caterans. Armies often retired baffled before the difficulties of their fastnesses, and native rule could never maintain that steady pressure upon them which the condition of the country and its people necessitated. This was left to British law to effect, and now the land has peace. The descendants of these freebooters draw a scanty livelihood from terracing their sterile ravines. They are always ready to negotiate a loan with a moneylender, but it is hard to serve a writ on a defaulter, still harder without risk of life or limb for an outsider to eject them from their paternal acres and hold it in defiance of the opinion of the country side. The experience of the Mutiny showed that they are as ready as ever to give trouble if they dared. Above the ravine country and the riverine Kh4dir is the Bangar or old settled alluvium which long ages of patient tillage have raised to a state of extreme fertility. Here 26 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT again we must distinguish the tracts into which this region naturally divides itself. We have, first, the DuSb, the Mesopotamia, or land between the Jumna and the Ganges, which without the territory south of the Ganges and Jumna included in its districts, has an area of about 22,500 square miles, two-thirds of Ireland ; secondly, the northern tract, including Oudh, Rohilkhand and the Gorakhpur and Benares Divisions — about 50,000 square miles, a quarter of France. The Duib is the fertile, thickly-populated tract extending between the rivers Ganges and Jumna from Sahiranpur to their junction at Allahabad. In the western part it is widely irrigated by the Upper and Lower Ganges Canal. Through it the East Indian and North-western Railways provide the main line of communication between the Bengal Delta and the Panjab. Junctions at AUahibad, Cawnpur, Tundla, Hathras and Aligarh link it with Oudh, Bombay and Central India. Its chief cities and commercial marts are Sahiranpur, which commands the Dehra Dfln valley: Meerut, a large military cantonment : Aligarh, the seat of a flourishing Anglo- Muhammadan College : Hithras, an entrepot for cotton and other country produce: Etiwah, one of the Central Indian frontier posts : Cawnpur, an important trading mart and the seat of prosperous manufacturing industries ; Allahibid, the Provincial capital, the headquarters of the High Court and the chief public offices. Only the stream of the Jumna separates it from Delhi, now included in the Panjib, from Agra, the Mughal capital, now a large and flourishing com- mercial city, and from Mathura, one of the holiest places of Hinduism. The railway has now quite displaced the rivers as a highway of commerce. This is shown by the decadence of two once flourishing centres of trade — Farrukhabad in the Central Duib and Mirzapur, formerly a great trade centre, to which large ga;ngs of Banjara merchants in the old days conveyed the products of Central India and received in return iron and brass ware, cloth and salt. This region has now been tapped by direct railway communication with Calcutta and Bombay, and the once famous bizSr of Mirzapur is deserted. 27 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA The richest portion of the Duib is that to the west, where, aided by an abundant water supply, the J&ts of Sah&ranpur, Muzaffarnagar and Meerut are about the finest yeomen in India. Here will be seen the results of the labour of a most industrious, sturdy peasantry, vast sheets of wheat and barley, sugar-cane, cotton, millets and maize. Here the plough cattle are of the finest breed, and most thriving yeomen own a brood mare or two, the produce of which find a ready sale at the agricultural fairs as remounts for our cavalry or for private use It is only towards the lower apex of the Duib that the opium poppy is largely grown ; all along it and more particularly towards the east indigo is an important staple. More especially at Cawnpur and Agra, just beyond the Jumna, there is an extensive factory industry, supplied with the best modem machinery and largely interested in the manufacture of cotton and woollen goods, and articles of leather. Everywhere we find indications of an active in- dustrial, commercial and agricultural life. The aspect of the country is that of an unbroken flat, " spread like a green sea the waveless plain of Lombardy " which Shelley saw from a nook in the Euganean hills. It is drained by the Hindan, Kill and innumerable minor streams which find their way sooner or later into the Ganges or the Jumna. The scenery is monotonous in the extreme, but has a quiet rural beauty of its own at certain seasons. In the early cold weather you can march for weeks through an almost unbroken stretch of the richest cultivation, wheat, barley or other cereals, the Arhar fields yellow with blossom like an English gorse brake, thick masses of sugar-cane, tall fields of tufted millet, the cotton with its white bolls, and an infinity of garden crops, poppy, pepper, mint, anise and cummin, the cucumber trailing over the brown house thatch, the castor with its purple bluish leaves and stalk. Culti- vation is too close to allow much woodland or culturable waste to exist At every mile or so you meet a village nest- ling in the shade of its mango groves or pipal trees : its tank and rustic shrine glittering through the rich foliage ; the huts covered with brown thatch or reddish tiles. When the crops 28 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT are cut in the early spring the scene changes as if by magic. The country now looks dusty, baked and cheerless to a degree. This is specially the case in the rice-bearing tracts. The hot wind blows like the blast of a furnace ; the sky resembles a great copper bowl ; the horizon is narrowed by a thick haze of dust ; the cattle cower for shelter in the scanty shade, and all nature gasps with thirst. Then after a time the wind lulls, the heavy clouds gather on the horizon, and the monsoon bursts witii a roar of heaven's artillery. The herbage revives at once, the trees are green again when the grime is washed from their leaves ; the ploughing and sowing of the rice and millets, the patient tillage which the coming spring crop needs call the peasant from the torpor of the hot weather. Then succeed weeks of drenching rain with intervals of damp relaxing heat The rivers are all in flood, the country presents the appearance of a marsh ; fever and cholera, the pestilence that walketh in darkness, the destruc- tion that wasteth at noonday, claim their victims. At last the rains are checked, a cold chill rises with the dawn, the soft mist collects in the lowlands. Then the peasant cuts his autumn rice and millet and begins to collect the swelling cotton bolls. His oxen, refreshed by the enforced rest of the rains, and strengthened by the fresh store of herbage, are ready for the hard work of the early winter, the continuous series of ploughings for the wheat and barley, the severe exertion of hauling the laden water buckets from the depths of the well. The jaded Englishman looks up his rifle and cartridges and soon the white tents are pitched near his house, and all is made ready for a start into camp. In a day or two, as he rides on his first march from headquarters he will find his tents pitched in some shady mango grove, the horses tethered a short way off, the servants cooking in the shade, the village magnate awaiting an audience, a crowd of suitors ready for the opening of the court, a bare-legged runner hastening up with a bag of papers which will keep the Collector busy till the afternoon is well spent Then tea and chat, a stroll with gun and dogs, or a visit to the school or police station. After dinner all but the sleeping tents are 29 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA struck, laden on a string of camels and carried ten miles forwards, where their owner meets them ready again next morning. And as he starts to join the fresh encampment nothing is left on the site of the place where he has halted for the day but the mouldering fires, the piles of straw and rubbish to tell of the busy crowd which occupied it only yesterday. But no map or figures or description can give any real idea of the teeming village life through which the official thus makes his annual progress ; the sheet of growing corn crops, the peasant laboriously turning up the rich brown soil, the oxen labouring at the well to the creak of the pulley and the driver's song, the children leading the cows and goats to pasture, the Brahman ringing his little bell to call his god to attend the service, the women cooking, gossiping, squabbling, all in the open air ; the old crone grumbling as she works the spinning-wheel ; the brown faces, black eyes, bright dresses, and tinkling bangles of the girls as they laugh and chatter at the well ; the grey-beards settling village politics under the pipal tree. Life may be hard and sordid, but these careless souls somehow manage to enjoy it to the full, and no murmur of discontent at their meagre lot rises to the gates of heaven from the lips of these toiling millions. The difficulty is in this continuous Plain to get anything like a bird's-eye view of the general aspect of the country. There is no really lofty eminence from which the glance can sweep and take in its salient features. The oldest village mound, an accumulation of the debris of countless genera- tions, is only a petty hillock, and the view from it is every- where bounded by the green masses of the mango groves which surround it. Here and there is an open vista which stretches out to the horizon in an unbroken expanse of rice cultivation or barren, salty plains. In the rains the rice tract is a sheet of greenerj' ; in the summer it resembles a grey, brown chessboard, broken up for convenience of irrigation into a maze of minute plots ; the salt waste has few trees, except an'occasional acacia or a patch of scrubby thicket 30 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT It IS from some of the higher buildings in the cities alone that in the clear air of the cold weather, beneath a sky of cloudless blue, an extensive survey can be made. Thus, in all the Plain there is perhaps no pleasanter view than from the battlements of the Fatehgarh fort, whence are seen the pleasure house of the NawcLb, the minarets of the Karbala mosque, the rich greenery of the hunting preserve, and far in the distance the faint silver line of the Ganges. So, from the summit of the graceful clock-tower at Mirzapur you look down on the ceaseless movement of the gaily-dressed crowds, and the whole city resembles a forest, the white houses with their red-tiled roofs showing at intervals through the trees which shade every bazar and courtyard. Or from one of the minarets of Aurangzeb's mosque at Benares you can watch the troops of pilgrims, the bathers at the Ghits, the glittering spires of a myriad temples, the sacred bulls moving ponder- ously along the crowded alleys, the monkeys playing on the roofs. A colder and sterner landscape unfolds itself from the ramparts of a fort like that of Awa in the Central Duib. Here we see the narrow border of wheat and tobacco fields encircling the grey mud bastions of the Rijput stronghold, and beyond a wide dreary expanse of salty barren waste, over which the torrid wind of June blows with pitiless, scorching vigour. But hitherto we have spoken of life in the more favoured villages and cities. In the Central part of the Duib, where a series of years of excessive rainfall, insufficient drainage, and wasteful use of canal water have raised the subsoil level, malaria is endemic, and wide tracts of new waste, the pallid frames of the people, all speak eloquently of the losses caused by fever. But this will be discussed more fully later on. There are, again, many places where the soil is little better than sterile sand, growing nothing but poor autumn millets, and unfit to produce sugar, cotton or wheat. The more industrious peasant classes avoid lands like these, and cling to the rich loams and fertile clays. The sandy tract is the heritage of the more restless and lazy Rajput, the Ahir or Gujar cattle breeders, where inefficient tillage and squalid 31 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA homesteads are in direct contrast to the thriving agricultural settlements of the J at or the Kurmi. Far worse than these unfertile lands are what are known as the tJsar plains, of which there are between four and five thousand square miles in the Province, at present absolutely sterile. If this area could be brought under the plough, and support five hundred souls to the square mile, not under present conditions an excessive average, it would feed a couple of million mouths, about as much as the total increase of the population in the period 1881-91. The reclamation of CTsar is thus an economical question of the greatest import- ance, and a small literature has been devoted to it. Reh, or the saline deposit which is brought up to the sur- face by the combined action of water and the sun's heat, is not of uniform character. " Most generally carbonate of soda is the prevailing ingredient ; at other times sulphate of soda ; but both occur together, and associated with them in more or less quantity are common salt and salts of magnesia and lime. Of the origin of these salts there is no positive certainty, but they are most probably the salts which are dissolved out on the gradual decomposition of igneous rocks, and are subsequently deposited when the water that holds them in solution evaporates." ^ So long as the surface remains covered with trees or vegetation these salts do little harm ; but with any rise in the subsoil water level, caused, for instance, by excessive canal irrigation or natural satura- tion, there would be a tendency for these salts to rise to the surface by the action of the sun's heat, aided by the capillarity of the clay subsoil. The appearance of Reh is unmistakeable. It shows itself either as a snowHke deposit on the surface, or as a puffy crust of brownish efflorescence which crackles into dust as you walk over it. No better or safer riding ground can be found than a plain like this, as there are few depressions and no holes concealed beneath the surface. Most tjs3.r will produce in the rains some kind of herbage, generally of a very coarse and innutritions description; but in the dry ' Voelcker, Report, p. 51. 32 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT season it is almost completely bare. The worst point about it is, that in moist tracts, notably those in which saturation is due to excessive use of canal water, it shows a decided tendency to spread and infest land hitherto free from its influence. The result of a long series of experiments has been to show that CTsar may be reclaimed. If fenced in, and for a time protected from grazing, the coarser grasses gradually gather strength, and spread more and more over the surface ; the dust blown by the wind from neighbouring fields collects round their roots, and their periodical decay produces a thin layer of richer mould. With the increase of herbage the power of the sun in drawing up the salts from the subsoil becomes weaker, and in time the inferior vegetation is, to some extent, replaced by more nutritive grasses. This, the natural, is also the cheapest mode of reclamation. A similar result, at a larger expenditure of capital, is produced by a deposit of silt or rich manure, or by flooding and embanking the surface water. But such methods, except under specially favourable circumstances, can hardly be remunerative. It is enough that the experiments hitherto made show that the reclamation of tJsar is possible ; that no great financial results have been attained is only what might have been expected. But it should be different in the case of peasants devoting their surplus labour to the improvement of small patches in the neighbourhood of their own fields, and even if the land thus recovered from the waste never reaches a high point of fertility, it would at any rate grow wood and fodder, which they sorely lack. But the Indian cultivator is so con- servative, so wedded to traditional methods of farming, that it is difficult to induce him to undertake a task which cannot be immediately remunerative. It is something to have shown that the attempt is not quite so hopeless as has hitherto been believed. As matters stand, all that the tfsar plains produce is a little coarse grazing, and some of the salts and silica is worked up into the common glass bangles which the village girl so dearly loves. This leads to another question on which much discussion C 33 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA has taken place — the provision of fuel and fodder reserves. It is needless to say that under the native administration the forests were utterly neglected. Much land fitted only to grow trees was allowed to pass into private hands, and the existing forests were ruthlessly destroyed. The jungleman, as he wanders about, axe in hand, is an unmerciful wrecker of the forest, which he makes his home. He hacks and hews without the slightest discrimination, and, from sheer reckless- ness and want of thought, will destroy a promising sapling which, when cut, is quite useless to him. In the earlier period of our rule we were equally apathetic about forest conservation, and it was not till increasing pressure on the waste, and the new demand for wood, which arose with the development of the railway system, attracted attention, that the Government was roused to a sense of the danger. Since that time forest conservation became an important business of the State. Between reserves and State forests the Indian Government now owns 108,000 square miles, and this will be extended as soon as Burma and Madras are fully dealt with. In forests alone it holds nearly the area of Italy — a property of enormous and yearly increasing value. The increased demand for fuel on the railways has again been met by the opening out of extensive collieries in various parts of the country. But these sources of wood and fuel do little to help the peasant of the Plains to find a rafter for his thatch, or the wherewithal to cook his cakes and boil his rice. In the earlier days of railway enterprise many splendid groves, particularly in Oudh and Rohilkhand, were cut down. This destruction of the woodland drew attention to other dangers. It became apparent that the loss of trees was likely to affect the annual rainfall; and where the railway passes close to the Siwilik hills the denudation of the slopes rendered them unable to absorb and retain the rainfall which, pouring all at once into the lower level, produced dangerous floods. In this Province the pressure of a dense population soon reduced the woodland area. Had the State interfered at an earlier period, the condition of things would be very different from what it is at present The hilly tracts of ... _- 34 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT Mirzapur, for instance, might have been saved from absolute denudation of the more valuable trees, and would have, for ages to come, provided an ample supply of timber and fuel for large cities like Allahabad and Benares, and for the dense population of the adjacent valley. In spite of this period of neglect, it is no small matter that the Provincial Government has now about 4,000,000 acres of reserved forest, somewhat less than the area of Connaught, under conservancy. But the management of these forests has been an uphill task. It was only in the more secluded places that much valuable timber remained uncut ; the existing trees needed careful nursing, and much replanting was inevitable. Now the department is beginning to pay; in 1893-94, tlie surplus revenue was about R.x. 70,000.^ The chief danger to the timber is from forest fires. When all the undergrowth is parched in the fierce heat of an Indian summer, a spark from a herdsman's pipe, or even the very friction of the branches against each other by the wind, is sufficient, on the autho- rity of Thucydides, if it were not corroborated by Indian evidence, to start a destructive conflagration. No more awful sight than a mountain side, on the Vindhyan or Siwalik range, in the grasp of the fire demon can well be imagined. In 1893-94 attempts were made to protect 2807 square miles, of which 186 were burned. It has been 'more than suspected that some of these fires were caused maliciously by villagers in the neighbourhood, smarting under a sense of wrong at the restrictions imposed upon them ; but, as a rule, there is not much tension between the Forest officer and the villagers on his border. The form of conservation now in force provides for the survey of each block of forest, and the preparation of a working plan for future action. Open paths are cleared so as to isolate the blocks and reduce the area of fires ; com- munications are opened up for the utilisation of produce, such as building materials, bamboos, fibres, and the like. ' Here and elsewhere I use the convenient formula— i R.x. = Rs. lo. The real exchange value of the rupee in English money is now only about is. 3d. 35 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA Lopping and felling are carried on as required, and nurseries are established for the propagation of the more valuable trees. That these reserved forests will in time become a most valuable State property is certain. But the preservation of these forests does not much relieve the lack of fuel and fodder in the villages at a distance from them. That part of the reserved area in which grazing is allowed supplies grass to about three-quarters of a million of cattle, merely a drop in the ocean as compared with existing stocks. As regards fuel, again, the peasant of the Plains depends on the twigs which his children collect in the small village waste, on the dry stems of some of the crops which he raises, and, in particular, on the dung of his cattle. Hitherto the comfortable theory has been widely accepted, that this had little influence on the manure supply, because most of the nitrogen passed away into the air and was washed down again into the soil by the periodical rains, while a large proportion of the other valuable constituents survived in the ashes. Dr Voelcker has clearly shown the fallacy of this belief; as a matter of fact, by the burning of manure 97 per cent, of the nitrogen is absolutely lost, besides the physical and mechanical effects which the manure, in its natural state, produces on the soil. Except where casual grazing is supplemented by the growth of fodder crops and stall feeding, the scantiness and lack of nutritive qualities in the food, which the ordinary Duib bullock can pick up, are shown by its emaciated condition. The margin of waste available is diminishing yearly with the extension of cultivation, and much of the waste shown by statistics is really salt-infested plains, or other lands which produce little fodder. The suggestion has been made that the State should compulsorily acquire patches of land and conserve them as fuel and fodder reserves. But the difficulties attending such a measure are immense, and the advantages doubtful. It would involve the wholesale ejectment of people whom it would be im- possible, without a system of emigration which the peasantry show no inclination to adopt, to settle elsewhere; the pre- 36 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT vention of trespass would be a very serious task, and lead to much irritation ; and, lastly, there seems reason to believe that the present stock of cattle is excessive. A people who revere the cow as a godling will not send useless beasts to the shambles, and thus their numbers tend to overpass the fodder resources. On the other hand, a first-class agriculturist, like the Jit, finds no difficulty in growing an ample stock of artificial fodder and in stall-feeding his cattle. A smaller area, treated in this way, will supply a larger amount of food than a grazing ground, which all may use. It is obviously to the reduction of useless animal mouths, and to the extension of stall feeding, that we must look for an improvement in the existing state of things. We have thus dealt with some economical problems which specially affect the Du&b before attempting to describe the special character of the remainder of the Plains. The chief distinction between Oudh, Rohilkhand, and Gor- akhpur, as compared with the Du^b depends upon the fact that they are, on the whole, cooler, damper and better wooded, and that the saline area is less extensive. The population is more distinctively Hindu than in the Upper Duab, which also suffers much less from congestion. These districts grow less fine wheat, more rice and sugar. This part of the country does not possess and does not so urgently require those immense canals which with so much advantage irrigate the Ducib. Here the risk of a failure of the annual rains is much more rarely felt ; with water much nearer the surface wells are more efficient and easily worked, and irrigation from tanks is more common. Rohilkhand, eastern Oudh, and the adjoining districts are the main seat of the very profitable and rapidly-increasing sugar industry, and the climate and the habits of the people render the important State monopoly, the opium poppy, workable. No peasant can surpass the western J at as a grower of wheat and cotton, and this mode of agriculture suits his broader style of farming. Poppy, on the other hand, is more of a garden crop, requiring a vast amount of careful, minute industry which the Jfit does not care to bestow upon it, and much female and child labour 37 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA which only the Kurmi or Kachhi, who is more of the market gardener type, can supply. Poppy, too, is extremely sensitive to cold, and cannot be grown with success in the harsher western climate. Besides this, it thrives better on well irriga- tion than on the water of the canal. It is in the extension of the cultivation of sugar that the best chance of an improvement in the agriculture of Northern India probably lies. In 1 891-92 this crop occupied 1,363,000 acres, or about 6 per cent, of the area under autumn crops. The average outturn of irrigated cane calculated in Gur, or coarse sugar, in preparing which the juice is simply boiled down and inspissated without removing the treacle, may be taken as varying from 2400 to 1600 lbs. per acre. After supplying local wants of a people among whom sweets of various kinds are an essential article of food, the exports from the Province amounted to 180,000 tons, of which over two-thirds went to the Panjib and RS-jputana. That the demand is enormous may be concluded from the fact that in 1889-90 sugar to the value of R.x. 1,900,000 was imported into India from Mauritius. Enquiries in Calcutta show that the average consumption of sugar is about 60 lbs. per head per annum. It is the main support of the pilgrim on his travels, and in places like Allahabad and Hardwar, at the periodical bathing fairs, the sales of sweetmeats are immense. Sugar production must have been a very ancient Indian industry. This is proved by the names for its preparations, and by the references in the Institutes of Manu, which exempt the weary traveller from punishment if he plucked a cane or two from a roadside field, a picture of rural life which in its reality and vividness recalls the prevailing custom in modem times. But it is probable that much of the sugar in ancient times was obtained from the juice of the palm. It is as difficult to imagine how the Indian peasant could ever have existed without sweets as to conceive what with him could have taken the place of tobacco. But it is not only from an economical point of view that the sugar industry is of prime importance. It demands the highest skill of the farmer, and its culture is itself a lesson in 38 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT the higher art of cultivation. If the crop is to succeed the soil must be repeatedly ploughed and heavily manured ; the weeding, hoeing and protecting it from its numerous enemies involve constant toil. Manure follows the cane, and where the crop is grown it is more evenly distributed over the village area. The crushing and boiling require care and some empiric chemical knowledge. In former days the cane was always crushed in a rude wooden or stone mortar, in which the pestle was slowly revolved by the patient labour of the oxen. This inefiScient and wasteful machine has been largely replaced by the more economical iron roller mill, which enables the crop to be crushed as it ripens, reduces the amount of wastage, and supplies the juice in a cleaner state. This is the only modern farming implement which the peasant has up to the present readily adopted. But much still remains to be done to improve the system of manufacture. A great improvement would at once result from the establishment of co-operative factories on the model of an English or Danish creamery, but the suspicious nature of the people and lack of capital at present render this impossible. With better appliances, more technical knowledge of improved methods of manufacture, and greater regard for cleanliness, it is probable that before long Northern India will not only fully supply local wants, but leave a large margin for foreign exportation. As it is, cultivation is largely increasing, and the area under the crop has more than doubled in half a century. Rice, again, to the east takes the place of wheat to the west, and here alone is it largely used for food. The people to the east eat rice and pulse ; those to the west wheat, barley and millets. Rice thrives best under the heavier rainfall of the northern submontane districts. Hence in this part of the Province the Kharif or rain crop is all important The farmer to the west pays his rent out of his wheat and cotton, and grows a patch of maize or millets as food for his family and fodder for his cattle ; to the east he lives mainly on the earlier crop of broadcast rice, and grows a finer transplanted variety for sale. 39 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA To continue the distinction between these two parts of the Province, there is a striking contrast in the village life. The tradition of raid and rapine, when the land was harried by Sikh and Marhatta not a century ago, survives to the west in the form of the homestead. Here the houses are heavy- walled, flat-roofed, crowded within a limited area, generally planted on a mound rising over the surrounding lowlands, and the village from the outside looks like a miniature fort, the entrance narrow and winding, the outer wall circuit obviously arranged with a view to defence against sudden attack. To the east the village site is more open, and the houses less huddled together within a narrow space ; the population freely disperses itself in unprotected hamlets spread in convenient positions over the whole village area. This growth of hamlets is a predominant factor in the village economy. Not only is it the direct result of a long period of uninterrupted peace, but it has the special advantage of ensuring the more even distribution of manure over the whole village area, brings labour nearer to its scene of work, and allows the menial castes, — the currier, sweeper, and their kindred, who are an abomination to the orthodox_Hindu, — to establish their little independent communities in which they can practise their special industries without offending the feelings of others, and freed from the irksome restraints imposed by their more orthodox neighbours. The predominant feature, however, distinguishing the east from the west is that in the latter the pressure of population on the resources of the soil is much less. This will be discussed more in detail in another connection. Here it is sufficient to note that while Ballia has 805 souls to the square mile, Saharanapur at the other end of the Province has but 446. To the west, then, the pressure on the land is much less severe ; rents are lower, and the landless village labourer is much less a half-starved serf. We have noticed in passing the village groves which, though finer and more abundant in the country north and east of the Ganges, are a striking feature in the landscape all over the Province. The planting of a grove is regarded as 40 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT one of the means of religious advancement, and the destruc- tion of them among orthodox Hindus is opposed by a stringent sanction. This conception of the holiness of the grove is further shown by the rule which prohibits the use of the fruit until one of the trees is married to the adjacent well by a parody of the regular ceremony. Some of these groves are of enormous extent There are in many places groves known as the Likh Pera, because they are supposed to contain 100,000 trees. Others are of great antiquity, the trees as they decay being carefully replaced. That at Man- dawar in the Bijnor district is perhaps the most ancient grove in India, being now situated on the very spot where the Buddhist pilgrim Hiuen Tsiang rested in the seventh century of our era. The grove holds a prominent part in the social life of the village community. Beneath its shade nestles the common shrine; here the cattle find shelter in the fierce heats of summer ; it is the playground of the children, the halting place of strangers, from the Collector with his camp in the cold weather to the wandering trader and the long-haired, ash-smeared Jogi or Sanny&si on his rounds to visit his clients. The fruit is very generally regarded as common property, and when the country mango with its tart, turpentine flavour is ripe, it supports a large number of the poorer village menials until the early autumn crops are fit for food. Nothing is more picturesque in a quiet way than one of these villc^e groves in the camping season. The pleasant contrasts of light and shade, the brown, gnarled trunks of the trees, the dark green foliage of the mango, the lighter coloured leaf of the plpal, the feathery branches of the bamboo, the delicate tamarind, always a favourite with the early Muhammadan settlers, reflected in the still water of the neighbouring tank, the graceful spire of the Saiva shrine, by which sits a contemplative Brihman or ascetic smeared with ashes, his thoughts far from the concerns of this world of sense, make up a charming picture, especially in the morning when a tender haze softens every outline, or at evening when the cattle wander slowly to their sheds from 41 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA the pasture. Hence the Sanskrit writers, with a keen sense of natural beauty, called the eventide Godhfili, the time when the dust rises as the kine come home. The ravages of war have often played havoc with these village groves. General Sleeman, writing in 1835,^ says that there was not a grove or avenue, only a few solitary trees to be seen between Delhi and Meerut, where now the country is covered with splendid plantations. This was the work of Sikh raiders. In the time of Bishop Heber,^ 1825, the beautiful avenue of trees on the road between Agra and Fatehpur Sikri seems not to have been in existence; at least an observant traveller like him could hardly have failed to mention it. Arboriculture is a matter on which our Government has ever laid much stress. The banks of the Canals and their distributaries have been largely utilised in this way. There are now nearly forty thousand acres of Canal plantations, and in modern years all the more im- portant roads have been provided with the shade which is so welcome to the wearied traveller. In close connection with the village grove is the village tank. These are most numerous to the east of the Province, where they are largely used for irrigation. In one of these districts, Azamgarh, there are no less than 1500 artificial tanks, and few villages in the country do not possess a foul depression where bricks are made and clay excavated for building purposes. These become brim-full of water in the rains ; but as the season advances it is spent on the iields or drunk by the cattle till it becomes almost dry in the cold weather. Some of the larger artificial reservoirs date from prehistoric times, and to the east are attributed to the Suiris or Rajbhars, Dravidian races who probably became lords of the country during the temporary eclipse of Aryan civilisa- tion, after the fall of the Gupta dynasty. Some of these ancient tanks are of much larger area than those of the present day, which are seldom more than an acre in extent. The old tanks are distinguished by a difference of form ' Rambles and Recollections, ii. 231. ^ Journal, ii. 13. 42 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT obviously based on religious considerations. The new tanks have their greatest length from east to west in connection with sun worship ; those of older date from north to south. Bathing in some of these tanks is a deed of piety, and acts as a cure of disease; others are holy because they adjoin some sacred shrine. At some of these tanks it is part of the pilgrim's ritual to assist in deepening it by removing a basketful of mud from the bed. But a rich man who proposes to excavate a tank always selects a new site, either because he wishes it to be altogether identified with his nariie or dreads sharing the ill luck of the old excavator. Hence many tanks are wofully silted up and hold little water. The tank, with its lofty earthen banks covered with fine trees, looks like an ancient fort, and is a conspicuous feature in the landscape of the Plains. But as the water is drunk by men and cattle, used for purposes of ablution, and by the washerman, specialists in sanitation look upon it with well-grounded suspicion, and it is doubtless an agent in the diffusion of epidemic disease. Of large lakes the Plains are singularly destitute. Marshes there are in plenty, and a day's journey will seldom be passed without meeting with one of these depressions, often the ancient channel of some river, a mass of coarse grass and rushes abounding in all kinds of water-fowl. Such is the Noh Jhil in Mathura, six miles long, about half the length of Windermere, which is supposed to be an old channel of the Jumna. The Bakhira or Moti Jhil, the pearl lake, on the border of Gorakhpur and Basti, is rather smaller than this ; the Suraha Jhil in Ballia is about the same size, and practically a back water of the Ganges. More interesting than these are the splendid artificial lakes which Bundel- khand owes to the enlightened Chandel dynasty. These are formed by enormous masonry dams built across the mouth of the valleys. One of them at Mahoba in Hamir- pur has a circumference of five miles. Some enclose craggy islets or peninsulas crowned by the ruins of ex- quisitely ornamented granite temples. At Gorakhpur the flooding of the lowlands in the neigh- 43 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA bourhood of the Station covers the country with water over a stretch of many miles in the rainy season. This is about the only place where anything in the shape of good yachting can be enjoyed in the Plains. The Himalayan lake is of a different type. It has often been formed by a landslip, which blocks the outlet of a valley and forms a more or less permanent embankment. Such was the Gohna lake, which was suddenly formed about three years ago by the subsidence of the hill-side on one of the upper tributaries of the Ganges. Behind this the water gradually accumulated till it overtopped and washed away the barrier. This fortunately was slowly scoured away by the torrent ; if it had suddenly collapsed a terrible inundation would certainly have devastated the valley below. One of the Kumaun lakes, Naini Tal, seems to have been formed in the same way, but here the embankment has continued permanent ; others, according to the theory of some observers, are the result of glacial agency. These lakes are not of any considerable size. Naini Tal has a circumference of rather more than two miles ; Bhim Tal is slightly larger, Naukuchiya, as its name implies — "the lake of the nine corners" — is distinguished by its varied outline. These lakes, all in the immediate neighbourhood of the sanatorium occupied by the heads of the Local Government, in the hot and rainy seasons provide the visitors with ample amuse- ment in the way of fishing and boating. Many of the lakes in the Plains support a large and in- dustrious community of fishermen and bird-catchers, growers of the Singhara or water-nut, diggers of edible roots, planters of the Boro rice on the slushy banks, as the water recedes. These plantations, patches of the brightest emerald green, are a welcome break in the otherwise dreary landscape of the hot season. Something has been already said of the hill flora, which is remarkable for its variety and beauty. Among trees we find many which approximate to the Chinese type, such as the Magnolia and the Tea tree ; the Abies, Juniper, Yew, Deodar cedar, and Holm oak, with orchids, ferns, and numerous 44 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT other varieties. That of the southern hills is more scanty and uninteresting. Poorest of all is the flora of the Plains, where the plants are not only few in kind but singularly unattractive. "Everything in India smells except the flowers," is one of the tvvo feeble epigrams, which, on the authority of Sir Ali Baba, form the only permanent in- tellectual enjoyment of jaded visitors at Simla. The ex- planation of the poorness of the flora of the Plains lies in the uniformity of the soil and the rigour of the climate — parching heat and steamy dampness succeeded by sharp cold destroy all but the hardiest plants. Most of the land is under cultivation, and the peasant persistently destroys everything which can be called a weed. Any green stufit which grows in secluded corners is devoured by cattle or goats, or grubbed up as fodder for horses or stall-fed animals. For. the abundant vegetation, the bright flowers and luxuriant plant life usually associated with a tropical country, we must look elsewhere than in northern India. It is only in the Tar&i that the coarser grasses and reeds attain a considerable vigour of growth, and it is only in Gorakhpur, to the extreme east, where the plants character- istic of the Gangetic Delta begin to appear, that any variety in the flora can be found. The fauna, on the contrary, is large and varied and more interesting to the ordinary European resident, where every one is more or less devoted to sport. Practically there is no preservation of game except in the jungles owned by some of the native nobility, who maintain the game for their own amusement or for an occasional battue on the visit of some official magnate, or in the Jat villages to the west, where the peacock is regarded as a sacred bird and the people are quite ready to turn out with their bludgeons and attack Mr Thomas Atkins if he venture to shoot one. In tracts again owned by landholders of the banker class, who have the Jaina prejudice against the destruction of animal life, the sportsman will meet little encouragement, if he do not encounter actual resistance. But ordinary sport is well within the means of the young officer who during his home service cannot afford to rent a 45 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA grouse moor or deer forest in Scotland. This is one of the chief alleviations of Indian service, and it is devotion to shooting, polo and pig sticking that produces in the subaltern that activity, coolness and self-reliance which have made him such an admirable leader of men on active service. In most places pig sticking, coursing, snipe, partridge, ducks, quail, an occasional antelope, spotted or ravine deer can be found without much trouble and within fairly easy distance of headquarters. But within the present generation the larger game have been much reduced by the clearance of jungle and the ex- tension of cultivation. The Muhammadan Emperors hunted large game in places where they no longer exist. Thus, Firoz Shah hunted the rhinoceros in Saharanpur in 1379 ; they are now met with only in Assam and the Nepil Tarii, but semi-fossilised remains of the beast have been found in Banda. There are still a few wild elephants in the Siwollik range ; formerly they were much more common. According to Dr Buchanan Hamilton they were numerous and destruc- tive in Gorakhpur in the early years of this century. Akbar used to hunt them at Narwar near Jhansi, in Bundelkhand, and at Kantit, close to Mirzapur. In quite recent times the Rajas of Balrimpur captured herds of them in the Gonda forests of Northern Oudh.^ The same is the case with the tiger, which was formerly much more widely spread than is the case at present. Thus, Dr Buchanan Hamilton describes how in 1769, in a year of famine, so many cattle perished that the tigers, deprived of their ordinary food, attacked the town of Bhawapar in Gorakhpur and killed about four hundred people. The inhabitants fled, and the place remained for some years deserted.^ In 1803 they were shot on the Ganges below Kanauj. These animals are very unwilling to venture into the open Plain unless there be a continuous belt of jungle, which enables them to reach the hills or the jungles of the 'Buchanan Hamilton, Eastern India, ii. 502; Blochmann, Atn-i-akbari, i. 122: ii. 158; Blinfoxd, Mammalia 0/ India, 464. ''■Ibid., ii. 500. 46 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT Tarii. Hence, though they were very numerous in Gorakhpur after the Mutiny, their numbers have largely decreased in recent years, and the same process is at work in South Mirzapur, where they abounded in quite recent years. The last haunt of the tiger is now along the sub-Himalayan districts and in the Vindhyan and Kaimflr ranges in Binda, Allahabad and Mirzapur. There seems no immediate danger of their becoming extinct in these parts of the country for the present, but every year they become more wary. There is at least one officer of the Provincial Civil Service still doing duty who has killed with his own rifle more than a hundred tigers ; such a feat is not likely to be repeated. The methods of tiger shooting vary. In the sub-Himalayan districts the usual course adopted is to beat the animal out of the swamps and covers in which he conceals himself and surround him with a line of elephants. This is undoubtedly the finest form of the sport A considerable number of sportsmen can combine in the hunt, and in the final struggle every one has a chance of a shot. This method is impossible along the Vindhyan hills. The valleys are too precipitous and the jungles too thick and abounding in thorny trees to admit the free passage of the elephant with the howdah. Here, when the presence of a tiger in a particular jungle is proved by his killing the young buffalo tied up as a bait, the hills lining the valley in which he has his lair are guarded by a number of men posted in trees, who act as " stops," in case the animal attempt to slink away, and he is then driven in the directions of the machSns or posts where the sportsmen take their stand. The hunt by means of elephants is certainly the finer form of the sport ; but in the other the odds against the tiger are not so great as is commonly supposed. If he is an experienced beast, who has gone through the ordeal of a drive on some former occasion, the chances are that he will either creep past the " stops " who are posted on the crest of the ravine, or he will conceal himself in a clump of grass and break back with a series of growls through the line of beaters ; or when he does face the rifles he often charges with a roar, or bounds through the thick underwood or the rocks which 47 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA cover the bed of the ravine. Under such circumstances it needs a cool hand and steady eye to kill or mortally wound him. If he once escape into the thick jungle behind the machins the case is almost hopeless. What makes tiger shooting such a fascinating sport is its infinite variety and unexpectedness. The beast is extraordin- arily wary, of enormous activity and resource. No two tigers will behave in the same way. One from the outset assumes the offensive, charges the beaters, springs at the " stops," and if he is in the end forced to face the rifles, does so with magnificent courage and ferocity. Another will slink in the undergrowth, creep through the grass and bamboos, to the colours of which his own stripes are so admirably adapted, and meet as he deserves the fate of a coward. The interest of the business is really intense when the animal is known to be afoot. Any moment he may burst the jungle screen which conceals him from the sportsman, and his footfall is so light, his wariness so extreme, that there is no time for preparation to meet him. One rustle in the grass, one streak of yellow and black flashing through an opening in the jungle, and if the bullet does not strike him truly he is lost for ever. The lion has entirely disappeared from the Province. The last specimen killed was at Sheorijpur near AllahS.b9.d in 1864. Now-a-days it is only in K&thiiwar, on the western coast, or in the wilder parts of RajputSna, that a stray survivor of an almost extinct race is encountered. In some places, particularly in the rocky hills of Mirzapur, Binda or Jhansi, the leopard is often found. He can seldom be shot in a drive, as his cunning is extreme, and he will lie in the grass and break back or slink along a crevice in the rocks as the beaters advance. When cornered he is perhaps more pluckj' and dangerous than even the tiger. A squealing goat tied up near his haunts in the dusk is often an irresistible bait for this exceedingly cautious beast. The wolf is seldom shot, though numerous in some parts. In the very early dawn he may sometimes be met with galloping home to the shelter of some patch of dense scrub after his nightly prowl near the pens of the shepherd. 48 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT Sometimes he takes to killing children, and will charge in the dusk along a village lane and snap up one of the babies as they play. The Kanjar gipsy tracks him to his den and smokes him out for the sake of the Government reward. But he often passes off jackal cubs as those of the wolf, and it is not easy to detect the fraud. In all probability the number of wolves killed is much smaller than would appear from the statistics. In the three years ending in 1 892 the number of persons killed by wild animals was 702. In 1891, 34 persons were killed by tigers ; leopards, wolves and hyenas accounted for the rest. In 1895 the ferocity of wolves, more particularly in the Rohilkhand and Meerut Divisions, was remarkable. They killed no less than 246 persons, mostly young children, and it has been found necessary to offer enhanced rewards for the destruction of these brutes. In the same year a man- eating tiger in Kumaun caused 27 deaths before he was shot. The l(jss of life by snake-bite among the native population is more serious. The statistics show within the same period 17,565 deaths from this cause, and the accidents reported are probably much less than the actual number. In the year 1895 in these provinces 4536 persons , died of snake-bite. At one time the destruction of snakes was actively en- couraged by granting rewards to the professional snake- killing tribes ; but it was found that speculators took to rearing snakes. This led to the discontinuance of the reward system, and the Government was obliged to be contented with an academic warning to the people to clear away jungle from the neighbourhood of their houses, and to avoid poking into corners and walking about in the dark. Many old ladies still believe that the risk of being bitten by a snake is one of the chief dangers of Indian life. As a matter of fact, many Europeans spend years in the country and never see a venomous snake. The bungalow is a place where snakes do not usually visit, and if they do venture there their presence is easily detected. It is hardly too much to say that the number of authenticated deaths from snake-bite among the European population, for the last generation, might be almost counted on the fingers. D 49 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA The graceful black buck is an animal Avhich has much decreased since the extension of railways and the intro- duction of long-range rifles. Dr Buchanan Hamilton, speak- ing of the eastern part of the Province, says that in 1813 a sportsman might see a thousand of them in a day, and he notices a quaint belief current at the time, that " formerly the whole country being covered with long coarse grass swarm- ing with muskitoes, the antelope bred only once in two years ; but since much has been cleared, and the number of muskitoes decreased, it is alleged that they breed every year." 1 With the clearance of jungle, the finest Indian deer, the Simbhar and Chital, have also much decreased in numbers. They still abound in the preserves of the MahSraja of Benares in the Mirzapur district, when he beats his best jungles for the amusement of some favoured visitor. No one who has seen the stream of animals beaten out on such occasions will ever forget the sight. Passing from the flora and fauna, we may close this chapter with some account of the soils and climate. The proper classification of Indian soils is based on two distinct factors — the chemical or physical constitution of the soil and its relation in position to the village site. For practical purposes, and in particular for the fixation of rent, the latter is the more important From this point of view the lands of a village are usually divided into three con- centric belts — that close to the homestead, which receives most of the manure, more frequent irrigation and more careful tillage, adapting it to the production of the most valuable crops — the finer cereals, sugar-cane, and cotton, garden vegetables and opium; the middle belt, inferior in quality and less carefully manured, irrigated and tilled ; and lastly, the belt on the outskirts, which receives little or no manure, and grows the coarser and poorer crops, which are in some places exposed to damage from pigs, deer, monkeys, and other forms of animal life. To illustrate the respective values of these classes of soil, we may take the case of parts ' Eastern India, II. 503. SO THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT of the Aligarh district, where, for the best irrigated land in the belt close to the homestead, the rent is Rs. 12 per acre ; in the intermediate belt, Rs. 8-12-0; in the most distant Rs. 4-12-0. Viewed, again, from the physical aspect, soils may be roughly divided into loam and those in which clay or sand preponderates. This is the case generally all over the Plains, where, in the geological character of its soils, India exhibits far less variation than England. The loam is probably in a great measure an artificial soil, the result of the application of manure, irrigation, and the careful tillage of centuries to various grades of clayey or sandy soils. The two really distinct types are the clay and the sand. The localisation of clay is due to the fact that the alumina of the neighbouring slopes, being soluble, is conveyed by the agency of water from the higher ground and deposited in the depressions. Hence the slopes, being denuded of their clay, are usually lighter than the higher uplands, and often ex- ceedingly unfertile. The characteristics of a clay soil are the extreme minute- ness and adhesiveness of its particles, which render it com- pact and tenacious. It is capable of absorbing a large amount of moisture which it assimilates slowly and retains with obstinacy. In seasons of drought it cakes and gives little sustenance to plant life. It has a strong power of retarding the decomposition of animal and vegetable matter. It is difficult to plough except under the most favourable conditions. If the season is too wet it clogs the share, and it is impossible to turn it up ; in a dry year it resists the plough like a brick. Owing to its density and obstinacy, those plants thrive best which have the smallest and most fibrous roots, such as rice, wheat, gram, and peas ; those with bulbous roots will not thrive in it. There are various grades of clay — some containing hardly any organic matter, others more ; others, again, whitish or yellowish grey in colour, and sometimes impregnated with noxious salts or some com- pounds of iron. In direct contrast to these are the sandy soils. This is 51 NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA the detritus of rocks in the water-shed of the chief rivers, worn down and triturated by friction until the particles have become minute in the extreme. We see it at its worst in the sandy deserts of R5.jputana. Much of it has been blown by steady winds from the river beds, and deposited over the adjoining slopes, where the action of the periodical rains soon robs it of any admixture of clay. One has only to ex- perience an Indian dust or sand storm to realise the effect produced by the wind in dispersing it In the depth of the hot season, a sudden increase in the torrid heat, and a lull in the wind, presage a storm. Presently a dense black cloud rises in the horizon ; darkness rapidly spreads over the sky ; all nature is hushed in anticipation, and the birds hasten to the nearest thicket for shelter. Often with a burst of thunder the storm breaks ; masses of sand and dust are driven across the plain. It penetrates through the most closely-fitted doors and windows, and everything is soon covered with a coating of almost impalpable dust. Then perhaps with a few drops of rain a welcome coolness revives exhausted man and beast, only to be succeeded by a more intense heat a day or two later on. Hence we often find the sand taking the shape of low, billow-like mounds, as the snowdrifts after a winter storm on the Yorkshire moors. These sand dunes may be traced in the Upper Duib almost from the banks of the Ganges to those of the Jumna. As is the case on parts of the French coast, these dunes tend to encroach on the more fertile lands ; but usually before long they become compacted by the roots of plants, and are in time culturable, growing a niggard crop of starveling millet. The main distinction between the clay and the sand lies in their power of retaining moisture. The alluvial soil of the Plains is composed of alternating strata of these two classes of soil, and the fertility of any given tract depends on the degree to which they are intermixed. Where clay prevails to excess the soil is dense and intractible ; where sand pre- dominates cultivation is straggling and unprofitable. Even where the stimulus of canal irrigation is applied, unless the S2 THE LAND IN ITS PHYSICAL ASPECT thirsty sand is dosed with plentiful manure, the sudden luxuriant growth is only temporary, and after a few seasons of fatness the land ceases to respond to the industry of the peasant. And each class of soil feeds its own race of men. The jat and Kachhi, the former the type of the general farmer, the latter of the market gardener, cling to the rich loams ; the Kurmi and Lodha, growers of rice, prefer the deep clays ; the Gfijar and Rajput, whose profession is the tending of cattle, who detest fatigue and the monotonous toil of husbandry, draw a precarious livelihood from the meagre sandy tracts. In the southern hilly region, besides the barren gravels which Virgil tells us "scarce serve the bees with humble cassia flowers and rosemary " — " Nam ieiuna quidem cli-uosi glarea ruris Vix humilis apibus casias roremque iiiinisirat" — we find the Regar, or so-called " black cotton " soil, charac- teristic of Bundelkhand. In some places it is supposed to be derived from basalt by surface decomposition ; in others from the impregnation of argillaceous earth with organic matter, often with a considerable amount of carbonate of lime. But the various processes by which it has been created are still imperfectly understood, and some peculiari- ties in its distribution require further explanation. In some parts this soil prevails to a depth of from 20 to 60 feet ; it swells under the moisture of the rains like an Irish bog, and is then quite impassable ; in the winter and hot weather it cracks into immense clods, which make riding over it most