LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 Sh.eif....S.5..5 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
The Present Khedive of Egypt, 1892. 
 
EASTWARD 
 
 TO THE 
 
 LAND OF THE MORNING 
 
 ,/ BY 
 
 /] 
 
 CINCINNATI 
 
 ROBERT CLARKE & CO 
 1893 
 
Copyright, 1893, 
 By ROBERT CLARKE & CO. 
 
 
 \^ 
 
A preface seems a useless prefix to a little volume 
 like this. It contains only the record of a happy 
 winter under sunny skies and amidst strange peoples; 
 and as it is said that each and all of us see the world 
 through different glasses, so perhaps something new 
 may be found in these notes, though they are for the 
 most part over the beaten pathway. Still, as I have 
 not gone into detailed description — have in fact 
 avoided any thing of the guide-book order — simply 
 giving my own impressions of the grand panorama 
 of the world as it unrolled itself before me, perhaps 
 those impressions may interest you. If they are the 
 means of inducing any one to "put a girdle round 
 the earth," they will more than have fulfilled their 
 mission. M. M. S. 
 
 Cincinnati, March 20, 1S93. 
 
 (H5) 
 
CONTKNTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Brundisium the Ancient, . . . . i 
 
 Port Said, the Entrance to the Orient, . . 6 
 
 Through the Streets of Cairo — The City of 
 
 Mahomet Ali, ..... 13 
 
 Departed Splendor, . . . . • ^9 
 
 The Wizard of Egypt, . . . . 28 
 
 'J'he Passage of the Nile, . . . -31 
 
 High Tea in Asouan, .... 40 
 Through the "Tears of Isis" and on to Suez, 43 
 
 Farewell to the Land of the Vulture, . 51 
 
 "The Great Ditch," . . . . .53 
 
 " Enter India by the Front Door," . . cr 
 
 Through the "Gate of Tears," . . • 5^ 
 
 Bombay, the Englishman's Graveyard, . 61 
 Therefore they give his body to the Vulture, 66 
 
 The Cobra and the Mongoose, . . 70 
 
 The Races of India, . . , . -7^ 
 
 The Men and the Monkeys, ... 80 
 
 Mt. Aboo and the Holy of Holies, , . 86 
 
 The Royal Tiger at large, ... 96 
 Deserted Amber, ..... loi 
 
 The Horrors of a "native state," . .. 107 
 
 Delhi and the Peacock Throne, . iii 
 
 "Crown of the Palace," the Taj Mahal, 120 
 
 Cawnpore and Horrors of the Mutiny, , 124 
 
 (v) 
 
vi Contents. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 LucKNow, ITS "Residency" and its Vampire Bats, 132 
 
 Benares, Sacred and Ancient, . . . 136 
 
 The High Court of the Monkeys, . . 141 
 
 Calcutta, her Monuments and her Baboon, 147 
 
 Upward to Darjeeling, .... 151 
 
 In the Presence of Kinchenjanga, . . 158 
 
 The Attentions of "Sake Baboo," . . 162 
 
 Bay of Bengal and Life on a P. and O. S. S. r66 
 
 "Two Tours" Versus "One," . . . 174 
 
 One God Above All, . . . ... 177 
 
 Ceylon, the Devil Dance, and the Upas Tree, 1S2 
 
 Sunday Inspection at Sea, . . . 189 
 
 Canton, as Shown by "Ah Kum," . . . 194 
 
 American Versus English Ships, . , ^ 201 
 
 The Land of the Morning, . , . 205 
 
 Light, Laughter, and Happiness, . . 207 
 
 Sacred Nikko and her Shrines, . . . 213 
 
 Vengeance of the Rickshaw Boys, . . 217 
 
 Sleeping Japs like Roosting Chickens, . . 219 
 
 yoshawarra, the quarter of the lost, . 223 
 The Great Idol of Kamakura, Earthquakes, and 
 
 Drunken Monkeys, ..... 228 
 
 Art in Japan, ..... 235 
 The Feasts of the Cherry Blossoms, Azalias, 
 
 and Wistaria, ..... 238 
 
 Farewell to the "Point of Tomioko," , 240 
 
EASTWARD 
 
 TO THE LAND OF THE MORNING. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " We reached the place by night, and heard the waves 
 breaking." 
 
 BRUNDISIUM, the ancient, where 
 Caesar and Pompey met ; where 
 commenced the Appian Way — that 
 high road between Ancient Athens and Im- 
 perial Rome, both in ruins now — while here 
 nothing save a broken archway and stately 
 column remain to tell of the grandeur so 
 long since passed away. Across the harbor 
 rise the ruins of a fort of later date, while 
 beyond it the crews of three steamships are 
 vainly endeavoring to draw one of the ships 
 
2 Eastward to the 
 
 of their line off the rocks where she has 
 landed during the night and now stands fast 
 on an even keel. 
 
 Below us the quay is alive with a motley 
 concourse of people pending the departure 
 of four stately ships, one for Patras and 
 Athens, another for Constantinople, a third 
 for England, while a fourth is destined for 
 far Australia, and by her strange appearance 
 at once chains our attention. Through the 
 square ports (in place of the round ones to 
 which we have always been accustomed), we 
 see the Pankhas slowly waving over the din- 
 ner tables ; her decks are even now covered 
 with a double awning foretelling the great 
 heat which she will have to encounter, while 
 to and fro pass the Lascars and Kitmughars 
 (stokers and stewards) in strange Eastern 
 dress. As the twilight deepens, that ship 
 takes an Oriental and Eastern appearance, 
 which strongly whets our appetite for that 
 outer world that lies before us, for that 
 
Land of the Morning, 3 
 
 farther Orient so full of romance and story, 
 and to which we are bound. 
 
 Brindisi the modern, is inhabited by the 
 most lazy, good-for-nothing, and dirty lot 
 of people to be found anywhere in Italy, 
 Naples not excepted, and, though it is on 
 the high-road to the Levant, to Egypt, to 
 India, and the farther East, there is abso- 
 lutely no progress. I am told that some of 
 the people are very well off, yet so lazy and 
 stingy that they live for months on fruits, 
 never having fire of any discription in their 
 houses, and that they are a set of thieves and 
 cut-throats. 
 
 The place awakens from Saturday until 
 Monday, between which times most of the 
 ships arrive and depart, but sleeps most 
 profoundly the remainder of the week. 
 
 We had expected to cross to Patras in or- 
 der to visit Athens, but detained by a cable- 
 gram from home, were obliged not only to 
 give it up, but forced to take a small German 
 
4 Eastward to the 
 
 Lloyd steamship, the " Danzig," for Port 
 Said. These are always *' nasty seas " and 
 no matter how peaceful and smiling they 
 look from the land, are sure if you are in a 
 small ship, to prove too much even for old 
 sailors. It was so for us, except in the case 
 of the small boy, who ate the most astound- 
 ing meals at any and all hours. 
 
 However, all things have an end and even 
 this tempestuous sea quiets at last. Ceph- 
 alonia and snow-clad Candia appear and 
 disappear, and overhead all is sunshine. 
 The blue sea spreads peacefully around us 
 and continues in like peaceful mood until 
 the four days necessary to accomplish the 
 nine hundred miles between Brindisi and 
 Port Said have come and gone, Then the 
 light-house of the latter place at whose base 
 cluster vast masses of shipping, and from 
 which away on either side the low African 
 coast shows a glittering golden line be- 
 
Land of the Morni7ig. 5 
 
 tween the deep blue of ocean and sky, 
 beckons us to that "Land of the Vuhure" 
 —Egypt. 
 
Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Port Said, Noveinber. 
 
 IT is seventeen years since I last saw 
 this place, and in that time it has in- 
 creased in many ways, especially in 
 wickedness. As in the Yellowstone re- 
 gion the fires of hell come to the surface 
 of our earth, so in Port Said the Devil's 
 handiwork amongst mortals has been most 
 successful, and 't is a pity the two places 
 can not be combined. It is disgusting, yet 
 it is very picturesque. Through its center 
 flows the broad Suez Canal, to the north- 
 ward gleams the Mediterranean, on either 
 hand stretch away the yellow sands of the 
 desert to their meeting with the bending 
 arch of the deep blue sky, while the town 
 seems to cling wildly to the canal as 
 though afraid of being lost in the limit- 
 
Land of tJie Morni7ig. 7 
 
 less expanse of sand. Overhead vast flocks 
 of flamingoes and pelicans fairly darken the 
 sun, while below the people darken the 
 earth. It seems verily the hub of the 
 universe, and looking around one would 
 judge that at present all the people of the 
 w^orld are striving to reach it. The sea is 
 thickly dotted with crafts of every descrip- 
 tion, while away, over the low lying land, 
 long trains of camels slowly wend their way, 
 all bound for this one point. 
 
 As you enter the harbor the entire pop- 
 ulation comes out to meet you, while those 
 who can not find space in the water, crowd 
 the adjacent banks. Americans and En- 
 glish, Chinese and Australians, the turbaned 
 Indian, the dusky Moor, and wild looking 
 Bedouin crowd close around you. On the 
 top of that bank a stately sheik of the 
 desert (one notes from his green turban 
 that he is a decendant of the prophet), 
 has spread his prayer rug and, with his 
 
8 Eastward to the 
 
 face toward Mecca, and his thoughts in 
 Paradise, is going through his devotions 
 utterly obHvious of all around, — while just 
 beyond an irate " clergyman of the Church 
 of England " is, with a green umbrella, 
 soundly beating a donkey boy over the 
 head, probably the demands for "Back- 
 seech " having exhausted even his patience. 
 Out over the desert as far as the eye can 
 reach swarm the people, looking like masses 
 of huore black ants. As we mount the 
 bank, we find that an American has inter- 
 rupted the devotions of the sheik by trying 
 to buy his prayer rug ; evidently the price 
 is not sufficient as yet, for the old man, 
 standing with arms extended toward Mecca 
 and wath eyes on the Yankee, is in grave 
 deliberation as to w^hether he had best serve 
 " God or Mammon." Mr. America says 
 nothing, but waits, just allow^ing the silver 
 to gleam for an instant as he slowly slips it 
 back into his pocket. That settles it, and 
 
La7id of the JMoriiing. 9 
 
 when I see the sheik later in the day, what 
 he has to offer to his God is offered on the 
 bare sand. However, the " groves were 
 God's first temples," and prayer rugs 
 merely an invention of later times. 
 
 Passing onward, we soon reached the 
 hotel where we are to spend the night, and 
 dropping our luggage, we start off on a 
 wild scamper through the Egyptian portion 
 of the town, securely mounted on the backs 
 of " Mary Anderson," " Mrs. Cornwallis 
 West," and " Two Lovely Black Eyes," 
 three as lively donkeys as one is apt to 
 meet with even here. My most vivid rec- 
 ollections of this land are connected with 
 like wild scampers on such donkeys all the 
 way from Alexandria to the first cataract 
 and back again. I think these must be the 
 grandchildren of those old donkeys, and 
 certainly the race has not degenerated in the 
 least. The swift, soft patter of their flying 
 
lo Eastward to the 
 
 feet seems to wipe out all the years that 
 have flown and to make one almost a boy 
 once more, so joyous is the motion. We 
 are convinced during this ride that in the 
 matter of dirt Egypt has not changed at all. 
 Dirt and dogs are around us every-where, 
 but it would not be Egypt if it were not so. 
 Neither does one greatly mind such things 
 in the Orient, and I can imagine nothing 
 more incongruous than this land swept and 
 garnished. 
 
 In the early morning we steam away up 
 the canal, or rather ''down," as we are go- 
 ing southward. Three hundred feet broad, 
 it stretches away before us like a deep blue 
 ribbon on a field of gold, its waters crowded 
 with gay colored shipping, its banks dotted 
 with people, generally clothed in blue with 
 crimson turbans (that being the usual dress 
 of the Fallaheen), here and there a signal 
 station with its many colored flags, while 
 
Land of the Mo7^ning. 1 1 
 
 above flocks of crimson flamingoes and 
 snow-white pelicans float majestically across 
 a sky '' so deeply, darkly, beautifully blue " 
 that those of Sicily pale in comparison. 
 The picture is most brilliant and one never 
 to be forgotten. 
 
 Later in the day, we are favored with our 
 first " mirage." Vast flocks of brilliant 
 birds pass and repass in the distance, but 
 all upside down ; a sudden change in the 
 atmosphere, and they vanish utterly. Half 
 way between Port Said and Suez, at Ismalia, 
 the train awaits you for Cairo. You feel 
 that it should be a string of camels, but you 
 accept the train. Miles of the desert are 
 passed. Tel-el-Kebir, with its record of 
 blood, is left behind you, while ere long the 
 setting sun lights up the waves of the desert, 
 touches with gold the minarets of the mosque 
 of Mahomet Ali and the summit of the great 
 pyramid. Then you know you are once 
 
12 Eastward to the 
 
 more in Cairo, the City of the CaHphs. 
 Here we shall wait three weeks for our 
 Indian ship, which will give us time for a 
 glimpse of the land of Isis and Osiris. 
 
Land of the AIorni7ig. 1 3 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "A land where all things always seem'd the same.'' 
 
 Cairo, Dece^nber 4. 
 
 THE flags of Shepherd's Hotel, that 
 caravansary of nations, and mine 
 host, who is now a fat German in- 
 stead of the stately Turk of the past, wave 
 us a welcome. We accept the welcome, but 
 have no time or thought for rooms ; they 
 can come later. Now on this world-famed 
 porch we are soon deep in altercation con- 
 cerning that all pervading subject, " don- 
 keys." The candidates for our favor stand 
 below in rows, calmly regarding us with 
 great black eyes and ever and anon pointing 
 their ears forward the more certainly to 
 catch what is being said about them. Not 
 that it is said in a whisper, I would have you 
 know, but amidst such a babel of voices that 
 
14 Eastwai'd to the 
 
 in our land would cause a descent of the 
 police. The different merits of each is en- 
 larged upon at great length. We are as- 
 sured that ''Adelaide Ristori " possesses 
 heels that will soon leave " Martin Luther " 
 far behind, while the virtues of " Lucretia 
 Borofia " would make "Osiris" blush with 
 envy. I ask for my old donkey, "Helema," 
 who, alas, has been in his grave these many 
 years ; but I am answered that his great- 
 grandson, " Madame Recamier," possesses 
 all the merits of his distinguished ancestor. 
 He is therefore selected, and in company 
 with '' Lucretia Borgia " and " Osiris," car- 
 ries us swiftly past the Esbekiyeh Gardens, 
 through the shadowy " Mousky," where 
 stray sunbeams light up gorgeous colors 
 and the balmy air is laden with " attar of 
 roses." Now a long string of camels just 
 in from Arabia, now a whole harem mounted 
 on donkeys and guarded by a repulsive- 
 looking eunuch, pass us by ; and now a 
 
Land of the Mornhig, 1 5 
 
 funeral possession, heralded by that strange 
 screech owl cry of mourning — used also for 
 congratulation. 
 
 Through a shadowy doorway comes the 
 swish, swish, of swiftly moving garments, 
 and the uncertain light shows us the ghostly 
 figures of the dancing dervishes fluttering 
 round and round like great white moths. 
 
 As we leave the streets and mount to the 
 citadel, the Khedive, a pleasant-faced man 
 of middle life, dressed in black and wearing 
 the '' fez," passes us in an open landau, pre- 
 ceded by two running footmen dressed in 
 flowing white garments, with velvet jackets 
 embroidered in gold, and carrying long 
 wands in their hands. Softly on the evening 
 air come the slow, solemn notes of an English 
 funeral march, and we stand reverently, w4th 
 heads uncovered, as they bear past us all 
 that is left of some poor soldier boy w^ho 
 will never see merry England any more. 
 No grave under the hawthorn hedges — only 
 
1 6 Eastward to the 
 
 a shallow pit in these horrible shifting sands 
 that have swallowed so many thousands of 
 us. ''Oh, the weariness of it all!*' 
 
 Upward and upward, until from the plat- 
 form before the alabaster mosque of " Ma- 
 homet Ali " we gaze upon a panorama un- 
 rivaled in all the world. Behind us rise the 
 minarets of that beautiful mosque, crowned 
 with the glittering crescent. To the left is 
 the window through which the last of the 
 Mamelukes jumped his horse to escape 
 Mahomet Ali and certain death. There at 
 our feet spreads the fantastic Oriental city. 
 Off to the left the tombs of the caliphs lift 
 their dainty domes, while further on the 
 obelisk of Heliopolis (the "On" of the 
 Bible, where Moses dwelt) pierces the sky. 
 In front and on either hand, bearing on its 
 bosom the island of Rhoda, where that 
 prophet was found, stretches the sacred 
 Nile, whose green valley rises until it meets 
 at the foot of "Cheops" the sands of the 
 
Land of the MornUig. 1 7 
 
 desert stretching westward, wave on wave, 
 like a frozen ocean, into whose depths the 
 blazing sun is slowly sinking. Away to the 
 southward from '' Cheops," through Mem- 
 phis to the '' False," stretch the pyramids, 
 those strange sentinels, guarding the dead 
 in their keeping — guarding also the abodes 
 of the living against the ever encroaching 
 sands of the great Sahara. Lower and 
 lower sinks the sun, fainter and fainter 
 grows the daylight, while the voice of the 
 muezzin's "Al-la-hu Ak-bar, Al-la-hu Ak- 
 bar," falls like a benediction. All the world 
 seems wrapped in profound repose — buried 
 under the intense silence so peculiar to 
 Egypt. Suddenly the West commences to 
 glimmer with a faint rosy glow, which, ever 
 increasing and deepening, soon covers the 
 heavens with a mantle of crimson, against 
 which the pyramids and palms are sharply 
 silhouetted ; desert and Nile seem turned to 
 blood and all Cairo aflame. It is the after- 
 
1 8 Eastward to the 
 
 glow, and departs as suddenly and swiftly 
 as it came, while from the '' wings of night" 
 darkness falls like a pall. 
 
 " How sad were the sunset, 
 Were we not sure of the morrow " 
 
Land of the Morning. 19 
 
 CHAPTER. IV. 
 
 CAIRO under English rule is fast im- 
 proving as is the whole of Egypt. 
 It is very evident that England 
 never intends to give over her control. It 
 is to be hoped that such is the case. Now 
 even the beggars begin to realize that they 
 have some rights with laws to protect them ; 
 still, for the traveler, the land as I saw it 
 seventeen years ago, under Ismail Pasha, 
 possessed infinitely more attractions. It 
 was then a strange blending of the Bible 
 and Arabian Nights. The ever-changing 
 panorama of flying donkeys and veiled 
 women, the splendid fetes in the palaces on 
 the river, the slave boats slowly drifting 
 before them, the splendor of the rich ever 
 contrasted with the wretchedness of the 
 poor — the whole made a picture never to 
 
20 Eastward to the 
 
 be forgotten by those who saw it. The 
 Cairo of to-day, however, is full of intense 
 interest and is by far the most Oriental and 
 Eastern of all Moslem cities. Not far from 
 the town in the desert an enterprising 
 Frenchman has started an ostrich farm. It 
 is in a most successful and flourishing con- 
 dition. Its pens are full of splendid birds 
 of all sizes, from the little one a day old 
 and a foot high to the full grown ostrich 
 that, with its brilliant black and white plum- 
 age, presents a marked contrast to the 
 wretched specimens to be found in the 
 gardens of Europe and America. It is a 
 most comical sight to see the little birds 
 watched over by their gigantic " ancestors," 
 who certainly are the emblems of concen- 
 trated conceit. No beau or belle of the 
 human race assumes such airs as do the old 
 male birds ; one in particular could have 
 given points to the best ballet dancer of 
 Vienna or Warsaw. As I watched him, 
 
Land of the Morning. 2 1 
 
 another approaching quietly in the next 
 pen, reached his long neck over the top of 
 the inclosure, and gave my tall hat such a 
 whack that it was driven far down over my 
 eyes, and I was driven in confusion from the 
 scene. The hat was ruined — well, no 
 matter — one has no right to wear such in 
 ancient Egypt, though many do so now. 
 
 We return to the city via the " Choubra " 
 road, which twenty years ago was the 
 fashionable drive, now deserted for that 
 across the Nile near the race course. How- 
 ever, this Choubra road is associated in my 
 mind with one of the most gorgeous scenes 
 of those gorgeous times — scenes and times 
 which ruined Egypt and drove Ismail Pasha 
 forever from the land. We were returning 
 from the race course, where all day long we 
 (with thousands of others, "guests of the 
 Khedive," all of us) had been served with 
 wines and dainties worthy of Paris. When 
 I tell you that there were some fifteen 
 
2 2 Eastzvard to the 
 
 thousand '-guests'" present, you can imag- 
 ine how that one feast must have cost his 
 royal highness, or rather the poor of Egypt 
 from whom he ground it all. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon and we were 
 in haste to return to dinner, and later the 
 great ball in the Palace of the Gezereh, 
 given, as were all those fetes, in honor of 
 the marriage of Prince Heritier and three 
 of the royal princesses. Choubra road was 
 crowded, so much so that any advance was 
 impossible ; the people were evidently wait- 
 ing for something, which we soon discovered 
 to be the public display of the wedding 
 presents. Long lines of camels, donkeys, 
 and beautiful Arabian horses approached 
 bearing velvet and satin cushions upon 
 which gleamed diamonds, rubies, emeralds, 
 and every other precious stone known to 
 man made into every sort of ornament; 
 shawls from Kashmir, carpets from Persia 
 and India, presents of gold and silver from 
 
Land of the Mor^iing. 23 
 
 every monarch of Europe, until the animals 
 bearing them were almost hidden there- 
 under. Wealth enough to put bread in the 
 mouths of all those starving, for they were 
 starving, people that looked on with sul- 
 len faces "biding their time." I watched 
 it all until the slanting shadows warned 
 me that I had better be off and attend to 
 that dress coat which I had discovered in 
 the "Mousky," and meant, if it could be 
 made to do, to wear at the royal ball that 
 night. What a coat? My own, which was 
 my first and therefore too valuable to be 
 "packed all over Europe," had been left in 
 London. However, I meant to go to that 
 ball, and I knew that a pair of dark brown 
 trowsers with a white stripe would pass 
 muster in so vast a throng, but that I could 
 not by hook or crook make a brown 
 "frock" pass for a black dress coat, and 
 therefore I scraped this thing up in a Jew 
 shop in the Mousky. I was tall, while it 
 
24 Eastward to the 
 
 was made for a short man, and, when 
 "ready" was truly a work of art. Not a 
 button was where it ought to have been, 
 and the patches of dark blue and rusty 
 black used in its reconstruction cast the 
 famous coat of Joseph completely into the 
 shade, and, when combined with the brown 
 and white trowsers formed a picture which 
 daunted, for a time only, even my young 
 spirits, especially when the rest of our party 
 kindly suggested that I could pass for 
 ''Brother Jonathan." We were three hours 
 that night making the short distance 
 from Shepherd's Hotel to the Palace of the 
 Gezereh, so enormous were the crowds. 
 Every few feet of the way was lighted by 
 lanterns held aloft by slaves, who amused 
 themselves now and then by eating the 
 candles. The illuminations were truly 
 oriental in their splendor, and formed a 
 vast pathway of ever-changing light from 
 the city to the palace, on one side of which, 
 
Land of the Morning, 25 
 
 deep in the shadow and guarded by blood- 
 hounds, excited almost to a frenzy by the 
 unusual light and noise, stood the royal 
 harem. On the other side peacefully flowed 
 the Sacred River, lighted only by the 
 moon, darkened only, now and then, by the 
 passage of some slave boat with its freight 
 of human misery — the memory of which 
 clouded all the splendor and went with us 
 even to the foot of the throne, before which 
 as I made my salutations to his royal high- 
 ness, I was suddenly reminded of my own 
 remarkable appearance by a voice behind 
 me demanding "where I got that coat." It 
 was most unkind for every one near heard 
 it and laughed, even the Khedive who 
 understood English perfectly, and could 
 scarce restrain himself, oriental though he 
 was ; every time I passed him during the 
 evening his eyes would glance coatward 
 with a merry twinkle. The crowds in the 
 palace represented every nationality. Here 
 
26 Eastward to the 
 
 a Frenchman with his eyes on every woman 
 in the place, there a beautiful American 
 drifted through the mazes of the waltz* 
 while next her an English dame moved 
 around like a humming top ; here a party of 
 Germans discussing the delicious wines and 
 cigars of his highness, while down that 
 long vista of smoke-ladened rooms sat 
 solemn faced stately Turks each with his 
 nargileh and a pile of gold near him, obli- 
 vious of all around, intent only on the game 
 before him. The sounds of barbaric music 
 mingled with the deep baying of the blood- 
 hounds came to us through the open 
 windows, while that deeper, louder roar 
 came from a young lion but lately added to 
 the private zoological garden of the palace. 
 It was nearly sunrise on a Sunday morn- 
 ing before we reached our hotel quite weary 
 enough to enjoy a day of ''rest," but there 
 was no ''day of rest" in Cairo in those 
 days. Fete followed fete, day after day, 
 
Land of the Morning. 27 
 
 and for weeks after we had sailed away to 
 upper Egypt. As we left the hotel on our 
 way to the Dahabeeh several of the royal 
 carriages passed, the occupants of which 
 cast handsful of gold to the people, and as 
 we sailed southward, the palace of the 
 Kasr-el-Ali close to the river bank was 
 alive with the glories of another fete, but we 
 had had enougrh of them and sank with 
 sighs of contentment upon the divans of the 
 boat, while we watched her graceful lateen- 
 sails fill with the north wind, which soon 
 wafted us silently and swiftly away from the 
 sights and sounds of modern Cairo — into 
 the shadowy silence of that old, old land, 
 rendered the more silent and solemn by the 
 very contrast with the splendors behind us. 
 
28 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ■' Antiquity appears to have begun, 
 Long after thy primeval race was run." 
 
 DO you think it strange that, so far, 
 nothing has been said about the 
 Sphinx ? I have written pages 
 about it and destroyed them all, because I 
 did not want to confess to a disappointment, 
 and yet the disappointment was certainly 
 there every time that we stood before it. 
 Years ago I remember that grand, sad face, 
 rising from the limitless expanse of sand, 
 with only the pyramids to bear it company, 
 while here and there flitted the silent, black- 
 robed Bedouins, and no sound save the 
 moaning winds or shrill cry of the sacred 
 ibis broke the stillness. Then for hours 
 I watched, entranced, the sunshine and 
 shadows drift across its face, while from the 
 
Land of the Mornmg. 29 
 
 weary lips seemed to issue that riddle that 
 they have been asking for so many centu- 
 ries. In silence I stood before it — in silence 
 and with bowed head I passed from its au- 
 gust presence. Now, it has been excavated, 
 and stands, seemingly shivering, in a hollow. 
 We looked down upon it, instead of gazing 
 upward, and it scarce seemed possible that 
 that could be the same im^age that had been 
 so engraven upon my memory. Now, there 
 is nothing of dignity or grandeur about it, 
 and when on turning away, disappointed and 
 disgusted, we were confronted by a French 
 waiter from the bran new hotel near by, who 
 thrusted a tray of French coffee under our 
 noses, we fled in terror, not daring to look 
 backward lest the very pyramids should ap- 
 pear decked out with green and white awn- 
 ings and ablaze with electric lights. Still 
 there was one consolation. Nothing can 
 keep back the sand for any length of time, 
 and it will surely, ere long, throw again its 
 
30 Eastward to the 
 
 waves around the Sphinx — perhaps higher 
 and higher until that solemn face shall look 
 its last on the long, green valley and the 
 placid river, and the moaning wind coming 
 with the rising of the moon, from the desert 
 of Arabia, will sound a requiem over that 
 vanishing form, that last vestige of the old 
 religion — while it whispers into its ear the 
 solution of its riddle. 
 
La?id of the Morning 3 1 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 COOK certainly deserves the thanks of 
 the travehng pubHc, but he has had 
 to work for it. I remember years 
 since when he was just getting under way, 
 how the people cursed him right and left. 
 One party outside the walls of holy Jerusa- 
 lem swore they would have "his entire con- 
 cern arrested when they returned to Eu- 
 rope," but he sailed on serenely, and now 
 holds the fort in all directions, the result 
 being that travel is neither so expensive nor 
 so troublesome. It took us two weeks to se- 
 lect our Dahabeeh, clean, provision, and 
 charter her, while we were obliged to go 
 again and again before our consul, in order 
 to force the dragoman to do his duty — now 
 you have simply to go to Cook's office in 
 Ludgate Circus, and the whole matter is ar- 
 
3 2 Eastward to the 
 
 ranged for you in half an hour, so when you 
 arrive in Cairo your boat, be she sail or 
 steam, is ready, and as his company is En- 
 glish, you may be sure that they will carry out 
 their contract. He has not as yet reached 
 Japan or China, but he is a blessing indeed 
 throughout India, where you can not trust 
 your servants with any amount of money, 
 where the changes are frequent and nearly 
 always in the middle of the night, when to 
 leave a warm room and shiver for an hour 
 while you dance attendance on slow mov- 
 ing Indian railway officials, would be any 
 thing save pleasant. I have never used his 
 guides or his hotel coupons, nor have I ever 
 traveled with one of his parties, but where 
 I have used him he has proved a blessings 
 indeed. 
 
 If your time does not allow of your as- 
 cending the Nile in a " Dahabeeh," I should 
 most certainly recommend the route by rail 
 to Sioot, and thence in the post boats as far 
 
La7id of the Morning. '^ " 
 
 JO 
 
 as you desire. The trip to the first cataract 
 and back fi'om Cairo can be made in ten 
 days, allowing three at Thebes, and at As- 
 souan you can change into a smaller steamer 
 for Wadahalfa and Aboo Simbal. There are 
 never any crowds on these boats and you 
 are your own master. If you take one of 
 the larger steamers from Cairo, you travel 
 herded like a lot of sheep, over whom the 
 dragoman has supreme control. Having 
 once paid your money at Cairo you are help- 
 less, and he knows and rejoices in the fact. 
 Therefore, if you are so unfortunate as to 
 secure his enmity, you will suffer in the 
 thousand and one ways known only to him- 
 self (rest assured he will not forget one of 
 them). There is no tyranny in the world 
 equal to that of these dragomen, so I would 
 recommend the post boats if you can not 
 take a '' Dahabeeh," but, it is only on a 
 " Dahabeeh " that you will find the poetry 
 
 of life on the Sacred River. It is impossible 
 3 
 
34 Eastward to the 
 
 to drift and dream on a steamboat. I shall 
 always remember the nine happy weeks 
 spent on our Dahabeeh " Ibis." It was the 
 life of the "Lotus Eater," so impossible in 
 the rush and roar of later years, and formed 
 the foundations of friendships that have 
 lasted and I trust will last unto the end. 
 
 But we have no time for that now. The 
 Indian ship sails in a fortnight. So we take 
 the train for Sioot, where we find the post 
 boat waiting and on which we are soon com- 
 fortably settled, being allowed ample time 
 to quarrel and haggle with that turbaned 
 figure on the bank above for some truck 
 which he has and w^e want. There are but 
 two or three beside ourselves on the boat, 
 all Englishmen in the service of Egypt. 
 Cook has rented all of the post boats, and, 
 having arranged some comfortable cabins, a 
 pleasant saloon and deck, and provided a 
 good table, we find we are very comfortably 
 fixed, and, after a good dinner, settle our- 
 
Land of the Alorning. 3 5 
 
 selves thoroughly to enjoy all that may come 
 to us. How weirdly beautiful the scene is 
 to-night. Across the sluggish current of the 
 river, the low, yellow^ banks are crowded with 
 a motley congregation of wretched people, 
 donkeys and camels. Back of them lies the 
 dirty mud village, w^hich every rising of the 
 Nile sweeps away, while above it, high in the 
 air, stately palms rear their dainty fronds, as 
 though striving to keep them free from the 
 filth beneath. Beyond, are the low lying Lyb- 
 ian mountains, glowing and quivering in the 
 crimson afterglow. The air is full of silence ; 
 the spirit of the adjacent desert seems to 
 have enchanted it forever. 
 
 Suddenly the old merchant on the bank 
 catches sight of a face on an approaching 
 steamer, and gives utterance to that strange 
 screech-owl like cry, used this time to wel- 
 come a returning soldier, whom we learn 
 afterward, has been sometime in jail. In- 
 stantly the cry is caught up, here by the 
 
36 Eastward to the 
 
 crowds on the banks, yonder by that old 
 patriarch guarding his sheep, while even the 
 Muezzin on the minaret of the mosque 
 turns voice and thoughts from Heaven to 
 welcome the return of the prodigal. 
 
 Driving the crowd like chaff from before 
 her, to the very water's edge, and into the 
 very water itself, rushes a figure, old and 
 bent, with scattered grey hair and claw-like 
 fingers, hideous yet beautiful with the divine 
 light of love which shines forth from her 
 eyes. It requires no interpreter to tell us 
 that it is the man's mother; but when you 
 see . him push her rudely aside it does 
 require a strong effort of will to keep from 
 taking a stick to him. 
 
 Verily the fatted calf will be killed in 
 that town to-night and for a most unworthy 
 object. 
 
 How much more real the Bible is after 
 visiting these Eastern lands, where you 
 seem suddenly transported backward to the 
 
Land of the Mommg. 2^7 
 
 days of the patriarchs, while quotations 
 from the sacred writings are continually in 
 your mind. Even as I write I see through 
 an open doorway "two women grinding at 
 a mill." Time will fulfill the rest — " the 
 one shall be taken and the other lelt." 
 Shepherds still watch their flocks, crook in 
 hand, all up and down this long green 
 valley, that seems ever in conflict with the 
 yellow sands of the desert that here have 
 crowded it close upon the river in ap- 
 parently a vain endeavor to swallow both, 
 while a short distance below victory seems 
 on the side of the river and valley as they 
 spread away miles on either side. It is an 
 eternal conflict between the powers of death 
 and life, and when you look around on the 
 vast ruins of past grandeur, on this narrow 
 valley and its wretched people encompassed 
 by the mighty desert, death seems to have 
 the upper hand — but still the seeds of life 
 are here and will, under the present wise 
 
;^S Eashvard to the 
 
 policy of England, triumph in the end, and 
 Egypt may yet be herself again. 
 
 During the ceremonies of welcome at- 
 tendant upon the return of the prodigal, I 
 pointed my kodak at a small boy who fled 
 away as though the demons of hell were in 
 hot pursuit. I remembered in former years 
 my opera glass always caused such actions, 
 and on the day of the display of the royal 
 presents, almost created a panic. How- 
 ever, the magical word — backsheesh — ban- 
 ished fear and brought this youth back to a 
 point where I could secure his classic ap- 
 pearance for future delight. He certainly 
 did not boast of enough clothing to cover a 
 canary, such as there was of it hanging in 
 tatters, and as to whether it was intended 
 for robe, trowsers, coat, or vestments was a 
 matter he could never have decided himself, 
 — we gave up the attempt in despair. 
 
 The rush and roar of the steamboat was 
 a source of constant irritation to me and I 
 
La7id of the Morning. 39 
 
 was forever uttering silent protests against 
 such desecration of the Sacred River, 
 though I could not but acknowledge that 
 the genius of Fulton was serving us well. 
 
 It was quite dark before we landed at 
 Edfoo and rode a mile inland to visit the 
 beautiful and perfect temple of that name ; 
 perfect as when deserted by its priests and 
 people ages ago. In the solemn light of 
 the torches it was not hard to summon from 
 their graves the ghosts of the past, not hard 
 again to people it with stately throngs, again 
 to hear the solemn chants of that old relig- 
 ion — but time pressed and we were obliged 
 to leave a closer inspection until we came 
 down the river. For the same reason we 
 were allowed but a glimpse of Thebes as we 
 passed her yesterday. x\nd in the early 
 morning light to-day '' Kom Ombo " towered 
 above us for a moment as we sped south- 
 ward. Her days are numbered for she is 
 fast slipping into the river. 
 
40 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " What then is a Howadji."' said the Emperor of Ethiopia, 
 draining a beaker of crocodile tears ? '" Howadji," repHed 
 the astute Arabian, '"is our name for merchants, and as onlv 
 merchants travel, so we call travelers.'' 
 
 /^ X XOWADJI, we are at Asouan, 
 
 I I and the donkeys are ready for 
 a visit to the quarries." It 
 does not take long to dispose of our coffee 
 and eggs, and we are soon enroute through 
 the shady bazars and dusky streets of this 
 city of the Cataract. Small-pox is rampant 
 amongst the poor, so we hasten through the 
 town and out on the burning sands where 
 the o^reat unfinished obelisk lies, and will 
 lie forever unless some shoddy millionaire 
 from our own land finds it worth his while 
 to purchase and complete it for his own 
 tombstone. However, as this granite does 
 
Land of the Morning. 4 1 
 
 not endure forever In our climate, this will 
 scarcely happen. I remember both the 
 London and New York obelisks when they 
 stood in Alexandria (one only stood, the 
 other being half buried in the sand). With 
 hieroglyphics as perfect as when first com- 
 pleted, with the granite glistening in the 
 sunlight, they were things of beauty. 
 Look at them now. Ten years with us has 
 done what two thousand could not do in the 
 dry air of Egypt. 
 
 On our return we called ''by request" 
 on the American consul, a dark skinned 
 Egyptian with four wives and speaking not 
 a word of English. Here we sit in solemn 
 high conclave for an hour. Some one has 
 made him a present of a white and gold tea 
 set, which is produced from its case in our 
 presence, washed and daintily arranged on 
 a low table. The making of the tea is 
 evidently more difficult, but when it comes, 
 in the matter of strength it leaves nothing 
 
42 Eastward to the 
 
 to be desired. It would certainly have kept 
 an elephant awake, for, as we were obliged 
 through politeness to drink it, we slept not 
 at all for a week. He returns the call 
 almost immediately, in fact I think he 
 reaches the boat before we do, and we are 
 obliged to go through another hour, tea 
 and all, but this time take care that there is 
 nothing stronger than hot water in our cups. 
 Conversation being impossible, save through 
 the dragoman, who, of course, is not to be 
 found, the absolute necessity of suppressing 
 ones almost irresistible desire to laugh is 
 exhausting, and we are forced to retire to 
 our cabins every now and then for relief 
 All things have an end, and he soon takes 
 his ridiculous little black person off to his 
 four wives, and we started on a never to be 
 forgotten visit to Philae and the first Cata- 
 ract. 
 
Egyptians Dancing in the Temple of Philae. 
 
Land of the Morning. 43 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 I DID not see Philae when here before, 
 and I find that I then missed the crown 
 of ancient Egypt. Resting on her is- 
 land, surrounded by the rushing waters — 
 those tears of Isis over the death of Osiris — 
 embowered in palm trees, she is beautiful as 
 a lily, stately as an ancient court dame left 
 alone in a ball-room of the long ago, while 
 we of this nineteenth century seem strangely 
 out of place as we wander through her 
 stately courts, dreaming of her past, or 
 watching the river as it rushes by the temple 
 of the "King's Bed." 
 
 We notice that the columns of this last 
 temple are not covered, as is every other, 
 with hieroglyphics, showing that the old re- 
 ligion was passing away even then (about 
 the commencement of our era). This was 
 
44 Eastward to the 
 
 the favorite palace of Cleopatra. Here she 
 lived and loved and murdered, though she 
 spared it the disgrace of her death. I was 
 surprised to see it stated not long since that 
 she was '' fair " faced. Certainly her graven 
 images do not make her such. 
 
 It is a great temptation to go on from here 
 to those grand rock cut temples of Aboo 
 Simbal, but time will not allow it. We are 
 already seven hundred miles from Cairo. 
 Therefore we turn backward, and entering a 
 stout barge manned by sixteen sturdy Nu- 
 bians, and presided over by a dwarf straight 
 from the Arabian Nights, prepare to descend 
 the Cataract. To the measured stroke of 
 the oars the crew keep up a weird chant, 
 while the dwarf closes each verse with a 
 prolonged and deeply uttered "Ah!" So 
 we drift northward while gazing southward 
 at fast vanishing Philae. The light of the 
 setting sun gives her life again, and phantom 
 forms seem to wave us a farewell. 
 
Land of the Morning. 45 
 
 A sudden turn and lurch and we are in the 
 midst of the Cataract. The blacks strain 
 and groan over the oars, and as each portion 
 of the boiling water is conquered, give ut- 
 terance to a wild shout of triumph, the dwarf 
 all the time waving his arms aloft from the 
 prow, and looking more like a huge bird of 
 ill-omen than any thing human — if these 
 creatures be human, which it's hard to be- 
 lieve. These rapids are much greater than 
 I had expected — quite equal to any on the St. 
 Lawrence. We must have been an hour in 
 making the passage ; it was more than that 
 before we landed on the levee at Asouan, 
 where we were plunged in the midst of the 
 most motley congregation to be found on 
 earth — Egyptians, coal black Nubians, and 
 that strange tribe of wandering shepherds, 
 the " Bischereens," now driven in from the 
 desert by famine, English soldiers, donkeys, 
 and donkey boys, camels, buffalo, cats, dogs, 
 chickens, Americans, Arab girls — clothed 
 
46 Eastward to the 
 
 and otherwise — Cook's tourists, and goats — 
 all were in one wild, pell-mell, while presid- 
 ing from the mast of an old boat over the 
 whole lot, was our late captain, the dwarf, 
 waving his arms in malediction at our fast 
 vanishing boat. 
 
 I am quite convinced that to be black, 
 ugly, and a dwarf, is a sure passport to the 
 esteem of the opposite sex ; that dwarf was 
 all of this and was as big a rogue as the sun 
 shines on, yet he so thoroughly convinced 
 one of the ladies that he was a much abused, 
 most innocent, and long suffering person, 
 that upon our departure she bestowed upon 
 him as a remembrance, a silver shawl-pin, 
 which he swore *' by the beard of the 
 Prophet," he would forever cherish in mem- 
 ory of the gracious donor. How long Ma- 
 hommed Hassen kept his word can be 
 judged, when I tell you that ere we were a 
 hundred yards away he was speeding up the 
 bank in the direction of the silver bazaars. 
 
Mohamet Hassen, Assouan. 
 
La7id of the jMor7ii7ig. 47 
 
 But she declares to this day that, with tears 
 in his eyes, he was pressing the pin to his 
 heart, and could have only been enroute to 
 his home, there to enshrine it amongst his 
 relics from Mecca. That there were tears I 
 acknowledge, but only because I declined to 
 allow him to swindle me beyond a certain 
 point. 
 
 So we leave Asouan, and the fast flowing 
 river soon takes us past Kom Amboo, Esne, 
 and Edfoo to the ancient city of Thebes, 
 where we tarried a few days in her quaint 
 little inn, and experienced our first earth- 
 quake — all except a fat woman who held 
 down her end of the hotel, and held us all 
 liars when we enlarged on the quake. She 
 wore a hat like a bread bowl and ate 
 ' nothing save porridge, sir," directing a 
 severe gleam at poor me that was vainly 
 trying to masticate a piece of beef that 
 may have been young and tender when Isis 
 and Osiris were wed. She possessed a 
 
48 Eastward to the 
 
 wisp of a husband to whom, later on, when 
 we were all gathered In the saloon and had 
 been listening to some good music, she 
 announced that it was now time for him to 
 sing his song, whereupon he sang sweet old 
 ** Ben Bolt," but his accompanist, an English 
 maiden of uncertain age, was evidently out 
 of humor because the handsome blond 
 doctor had not come to time, as was '' con- 
 fidently expected." Therefore she rattled 
 along at such a pace that the poor little 
 man was forced to slam down the "granite 
 so grey" on poor Alice — make such hasty 
 ruin of the "old rustic porch " and bury the 
 schoolmaster so much ahead of time that 
 the result was disastrlous, and the fat 
 woman carried him off to bed, casting 
 indignant glances at the handsome doctor 
 for being the direct cause of it all. 
 
 Outside, now under the shadow of a 
 palm, and now In the intense moonlight, a 
 broken billed pelican holds weird incanta- 
 
Land of the Morning. 49 
 
 tions, dancing the while solemnly to his own 
 shadow and regarding us with high disfavor 
 for our interruption thereof. The fountains 
 plash over the blossoms of the lotus and 
 the air is heavy with the odor of the 
 almond. 
 
 It was always impossible for me to resist 
 a dance, no matter of what form, and just 
 here I scare the pelican into fits by joining 
 in his. So in Cairo a^t the dancing Dervish 
 I found two of our party securely anchored 
 to the tails of my light ulster to prevent my 
 joining that dance. The result of such an 
 action would have been a riot to say the 
 least. 
 
 In the early morning we started north- 
 ward. There to the left is " Medinet Aboo" 
 and the Remeseum, while the rising sun 
 lights with crimson the mountains of the 
 desert, where sleep the royal dead, and one 
 seems to hear the music which his coming 
 
 ever draws from the statues of Memnon 
 4 
 
50 Eastward to the 
 
 in the valley near us. Off to the right 
 crowd the ruins of Luxor, and beyond them 
 long avenues of sphinxes lead up to that 
 marvel of the world — gigantic Karnack. 
 Stately Denderah and the tombs of Beni 
 Hassen (those oldest works of man) are 
 past and gone — Memphis with her pyramids 
 and her one solitary sad faced Colossus — all 
 that is left of her former gandeur, Cairo 
 glittering with all the colors of the rainbow, 
 while snow^-white on the deep blue sky 
 seems to float the Mosque of " Mahomet 
 Ali," They are gone, even Cheops has 
 vanished from sight. The journey to Suez 
 is over, and we are far to the southward on 
 the Red Sea with only the mountains to the 
 westward to remind us of the ''land of the 
 vulture." 
 
Land of the Mornuig, 51 
 
 CHAPTER. IX. 
 
 I ALWAYS leave Egypt with regret, 
 and have no sooner done so than I 
 plan to get back again. I live in hopes 
 of another winter on her Sacred River — not 
 in a steamboat, not roaring and rushing 
 along, but, as of old, in a " dahabeeh," 
 drifting and dreaming, going when, where, 
 and how we desire, and drinking to the full 
 the enchantments that come with that life 
 of silence, day after day, week after week, 
 until you dream of the lotus, see the lotus, 
 and, " in this hollow lotus land, live and 
 lie reclined." Nowhere else in this wide 
 world does one so enter into and become a 
 part of the long dead past, and centuries 
 seem but as yesterday. Now and then you 
 awaken with a feeling of rebellion against 
 the terrible and inevitable foro^etfulness of 
 
52 Eastward to the 
 
 time. These slowly rolling years are so 
 surely taking you with them to be in a little 
 while carried away and no more seen — 
 forgotten utterly — even as these ancient 
 Egyptians. '' Earth to earth, ashes to 
 ashes, dust back to dust." Especially in 
 the presence of these stately ruins does 
 your little span of life seem less than 
 nothing. Thousands of years will find them 
 as they now are, while you — what and 
 where ? Surely nothing but a firm belief in 
 the Christian religion enables one for an 
 instant to face that question, yet that God 
 and that religion does enable you to look it 
 all calmly and quietly in the face. '' I go to 
 prepare a place for you that where I am, 
 there ye may be also." 
 
Land of the Morning. 53 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHILE waiting for our ship at Suez 
 I chanced to visit the office of the 
 Canal Company, and was much in- 
 terested in inspecting their methods of hand- 
 Hng the commerce of that very important 
 connecting Hnk between the East and the 
 West. It consists of a large model of the 
 canal, with every station, light-house, lake, 
 or bay represented. Up and down this they 
 move blocks of wood, to which are attached 
 flags bearing the names of the vessels in 
 the canal at that time. They are notified 
 as to the exact position of each ship, and I 
 was shown exactly where our ship lay, and 
 watched its progress daily until it hove in 
 sight. It takes several days for most ves- 
 sels to make the passage of one hundred 
 and ten miles, as none save the Royal Mail 
 
54 Eastward to the 
 
 (the P. &. O. line) are allowed to travel by 
 night, and they use large electric search 
 lights. 
 
 The town of Suez is fast falling into decay, 
 the port having been moved some five miles 
 to the southward. The Royal Mail gives 
 both the go-by, stopping only at Ismalia, 
 midway in the canal, and not again until 
 Aden is reached. 
 
 I have spoken several times of the blue- 
 ness of these waters, but I think these at 
 Suez surpass any that I have ever seen. 
 Perhaps it is the contrast against the brill- 
 iant orange of these sands. At all events, 
 it is of a blue so brilliant, so sparkling, that 
 any painter who attempted to reproduce it 
 would be laughed at except by those who 
 had seen it. 
 
Land of the Morning. 55 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 IF ever you visit India, enter by the front 
 door ; that is, from Europe, and on an 
 EngHsh ship. The reasons for this are 
 obvious. India is a British colony, and to 
 her England sends all her best and brightest. 
 By so doing you are sure to meet delightful 
 people, perhaps make many friends, and may 
 even have a ''P. & O. flirtation" on your 
 way out. The men are apt to be officers 
 on the way to join their regiments, and it is 
 impossible to find the wide world over a 
 more cultivated and delightful man than an 
 officer in Her Majesty's service, or one who 
 will do more to make your visit a success, 
 and enable you to enter a strange land with 
 some knowledge of its manners and cus- 
 toms. I can imagine nothing more unfor- 
 tfunate than to land in India, of all countries. 
 
56 Eastward to the 
 
 without some such Information, especially If 
 you have ladles in your party. 
 
 Enter India from the East, and you will 
 come in at the back door in company with a 
 few traders and tourists, who know no more 
 of the land than yourself, every thing will 
 seem wrong side up, until you feel as one 
 does when attempting to enter a theater 
 while the audience is coming out. 
 
 It was our misfortune to be unable to find 
 passage on an English ship, at Suez, but as 
 we neared the Austrian Lloyd steamship 
 Poseidon, over its rails leaned two bright, 
 English faces, with whom we at once made 
 friends, and to whom, one especially, we are 
 indebted for being enabled to enter India 
 with our eyes open, not groping blindly and 
 In the dark. 
 
 Mr. Carnegie, In his ''Tour Around the 
 World," tells everyone to sail from the East 
 to the West, thereby being bowled along 
 by the trade-winds, over calm seas, while all 
 
Land of the Morning . 57 
 
 ships that he met with were battUng against 
 head-winds and seas. I can only say that 
 the winds seemed all in our favor, and that 
 we sailed through the absolute calm of sum- 
 mer from Suez to Hong Kong. Of course, 
 this is during our winter months. During 
 the summer the storms that sweep these 
 oceans are most appalling, especially when 
 the monsoon breaks in July. 
 
58 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 "A ship sails afar over warm ocean waters " 
 
 IT is ten days since we left the " Land of 
 the Vuhure " — ten days in which we 
 have steamed steadily southward and 
 eastward — days of gorgeous sunlight, nights 
 full of a moonlight whose brilliancy fairly daz- 
 zles one. Now a glimpse of the mountains 
 of Arabia, now of Egypt, is caught, and soon 
 we have passed through Bab-el-mandeb (Gate 
 of Tears) and are all day long rocking to and 
 fro, under a blazing sky, in front of Aden, 
 the '^barren rock." Nought is there save 
 a few houses attached to the military station, 
 a place with no water except such as is col- 
 lected in some high and ancient tanks, and 
 which, if empty, force the people to con- 
 dense the salt water around them. 
 
 Away to the northward, in the hazy dis- 
 
Land of the Morimig. 59 
 
 tance stretches Arabia, where your life 
 would soon pass from your keeping, if not 
 through the very desolation of the land, 
 then through the hostility of the people. 
 
 We are quickly boarded by a most mot- 
 ley collection of people, and spend much 
 time in bargaining for ostrich feathers, pay- 
 ing a mere song for really very superb speci- 
 mens. These waters are supposed to be 
 full of sharks, but that does not deter the 
 black boys from diving for coin, thrown far 
 out into the sea. This is the last land until 
 the shores of India rise from the eastern 
 waters. The ship coals here, and we are 
 almost suffocated with the dust. Our cap- 
 tain having gone off to a dinner party, it 
 takes much waiting and whistling before he 
 returns, and we are enabled to steam away 
 to the north-eastward into the lonely reaches 
 of this eastern sea. " Boundless, endless, 
 and sublime," the Indian ocean, unbroken by 
 wave or wind, with never a sail or bird or 
 
6o Eastwai^d to the 
 
 fish to awaken its solitude, soon enfolds us. 
 One vast glassy mirror, out of which the 
 sun rises a yellow ball, and sets a yellow 
 ball, with none of the fantastic clouds of the 
 north, or gorgeous afterglow of Egypt. 
 Each day, the counterpart of that which has 
 gone before, and of that which is to follow. 
 What memories of our boyhood readings 
 come to us, how the very smell of the Xmas 
 books (so full of wild tales of these eastern 
 seas) given us by a hand now still forever, 
 come back as we drift over this world of 
 water. How long and how short life seems. 
 
Land of the Morning. 6i 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THERE are but few of us, in all not 
 more than eight or ten, all English 
 except ourselves, on the ship. Hav- 
 ing petitioned the captain to have the meals 
 served without the usual accompaniment of 
 grease; having banished the fat man, who 
 insisted upon wearing gorgeous pyjamas all 
 day, to the forecastle, and having requested 
 the fat boy to grease the rudder chain and 
 wear shoes (the latter he declined to do), 
 we wait with calmness the first glimpse of 
 sacred India, but not until late on a moon- 
 light night do we sight the light-house of 
 Bombay — that Englishman's graveyard. 
 How completely the rush and bustle of the 
 western world seems left behind us as we 
 enter the harbor of this eastern city ! How 
 silent it all is, and how hot. So hot that we 
 
62 Eastward to the 
 
 give up our idea of sleeping on deck, and 
 loading our effects on two drays start for 
 Watson's Hotel. So far nothing has seemed 
 strange or eastern — nothing to let us know 
 where we are ; but suddenly, at the gates 
 of the custom-house, our way is barred by a 
 stately white-robed figure, over whose ebony 
 face towers a majestic crimson turban. 
 With a deep salaam and a few words in 
 Hindoo, he waves us inward. Then we 
 realize that we are at last in the land of the 
 rajah, the land of the mutiny, the land 
 which holds the Taj Mahal, the vale of 
 Kashmir and the Himalayas — in a word, 
 in India. 
 
 Watson's Hotel was asleep inside and out, 
 but it seemed to me most of the guests were 
 sleeping outside, for before every door two 
 or three white figures were dozing, and, 
 awakening on our approach, tugged away 
 at a rope over their heads. They are punk- 
 hawallahs, who all day and night keep great 
 
Land of the Morni?ig. 63 
 
 hanging fans in motion, that their masters 
 may be cool. It reminds one of that scene 
 in " Tale of the Two Cities," where the 
 people are forced to beat the ponds all 
 night, that the marquis in the chateau yon- 
 der may not be disturbed by the frogs. 
 But don't waste your sympathy here, for 
 these punkhawallahs think they have an 
 easy time of it, " sitting all day and night 
 in the shade, with nothing to do but pull a 
 rope." There are three or four of them for 
 the twenty-four hours, and those off duty 
 simply double up and go to sleep. Their 
 food, which is brought to them once a day, 
 consists of a bucket of curry and rice — at 
 least three quarts — which they eat with their 
 fingers. With this is taken large quantities 
 of water, the result being, in many cases, a 
 stomach so enormous that walking is almost 
 impossible. 
 
 I have seen many a child of six years 
 carrying a ''bay window" that w^ould have 
 
64 Eastward to the 
 
 done honor to a Sixth ward alderman of 
 fifty. As their legs are umbrella-like in size, 
 the sight is most ludicrous. 
 
 Over all the hotels, and all India, hangs 
 a pervading and, to me, sickly odor of musk, 
 which, we learn later, comes from the oil 
 used by the Hindoos for anointing after the 
 bath. 
 
 It is almost morning. Our tired heads 
 seem scarce to have touched the pillow ere 
 the first meal, ''chota hazri" (toast, tea, and 
 jam), is brought to our bedside. Now all 
 the world gets up, and the streets will be 
 (until the heat about ti a. m. comes on), 
 thronged with such a mass of humanity, of 
 all sizes and colors, that the eye wearies of 
 the constant change. Here a lot of jug- 
 glers, dogs, and monkeys ; there a cart 
 drawn by long-horned oxen and filled with 
 gayly dressed, closely veiled Hindoo women; 
 yonder a company of English soldiers, all 
 glorious in crimson and white, followed by 
 
La7id of the Alorning. 65 
 
 some Sepoy in dull yellow ; and now and 
 then, but they are few, an American, who 
 takes it all in, and has no taxes to pay for 
 so doing. (Thank heaven, here is a spot 
 to which a Cincinnatian should emigrate.) 
 
 Here comes a procession of those mer- 
 chants of the East — those worshipers of the 
 sun, those followers of Zoroaster, the Par- 
 sees — clothed in white and wearing dark, 
 square, glazed miters, which mark them as 
 something separate and apart from the 
 world. As they pass with measured steps 
 and bowed heads, you see that they carry 
 in their midst a silent form, and you know 
 that they are on their way to Malabar Hill, 
 where the "Towers of Silence'' have kept 
 their secrets for so many centuries. Let us 
 follow. 
 
66 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " The Towers of Silence." 
 
 WHO has not heard of them, and, 
 having once heard, who has not 
 woven around them all sorts and 
 conditions of romance. Listen to the truth. 
 On the top of Malabar Hill, overlooking all 
 Bombay, the adjacent islands, and the dis- 
 tant Indian Ocean, in the midst of an im- 
 mense beautiful garden, stand the towers, 
 but where I had expected to see tall, stately 
 structures, that would lift their burdens al- 
 most to cloudland, lift them up and away 
 from the dross of this world to where only 
 the birds of the higher heavens could con- 
 gregate, I saw five low, white-washed, and 
 roofless buildings, circular in form and fright- 
 ful to look upon, over which slowly circled a 
 mass of hideous vultures, some five or six 
 
Land of the Mornmg. 6y 
 
 hundred in number. Their keen eyes had 
 already seen the approaching procession, 
 which they welcomed by the most discord- 
 ant clatter and cawing. The only opening 
 to the towers seems to be a low, barred door, 
 half way up the side. About one hundred 
 feet from the entrance you are arrested by a 
 sign — " Stop Here." To this point the dead 
 are brought, and here received by the car- 
 riers, who alone can enter these abodes of 
 horror, and having once passed here, no 
 mortal, save the carriers, ever looks upon the 
 dead again. 
 
 Onward and upward the white-robed fig- 
 ures bear their burden, the low door opens — 
 they are gone. It is merciful that you are 
 simply told what happens, that you do not 
 see it. Some six feet from the top of the 
 towers, on the inside, rests a circular grating, 
 arranged in- three divisions, for the men, the 
 women, and the children. The center is a 
 well into w^hich the bones are thrown, and in 
 
6S Eastward to the 
 
 less than half an hour every vestige, save 
 the bones, has heen devoured by the shriek- 
 ing vultures, that scarce give the bearers 
 time to do their work. 
 
 The old custodian told us that he had ar- 
 rived, in former years, from Calcutta, where 
 he was then living, just as the body of his 
 father had passed the sign post, but had 
 been sternly bidden to stand back, and was 
 forced to listen to the shrieking birds, know- 
 ing what their awful work was. Even as he 
 told his tale we noticed a sudden commotion 
 amongst their masses as they covered every 
 adjacent tree, crowding even the top of the 
 tower itself, and suddenly, with discordant 
 shrieks, they descended in an almost com- 
 pact mass upon the summit. The battle in- 
 side is evidently fierce — is carried on in mid 
 air, in plain sight, over some fragment of 
 what was a living human being but yes- 
 terday. Faugh ! Come away ; it is terri- 
 ble! Even the flowers seem polluted, and 
 
Land of the Morning. 69 
 
 we threw away those the old man had given 
 us. *' All hope abandon," if you pass those 
 portals, for 't is even said that should you, 
 as is claimed some have done, come to life 
 again, you would be left to your fate, bound 
 and helpless. Forever after it is quite im- 
 possible to look upon large black-birds with 
 any pleasure. Awakening one day on my 
 porch at Watson's, I found a lot of ravens 
 regarding me and holding solemn, high con- 
 clave. '' To be, or not to be," was evidently 
 the question before the house. I concluded 
 that it was not to be, and shied a book at 
 them, much to their consternation, and also 
 to that of some natives in the square be- 
 neath. 
 
JO Eastwai'd to the 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IT Is amusement most intense to lie back 
 on your shaded verandah, during the 
 hot hours, and, while you dose and 
 smoke, and your servants bring you cool 
 drinks and hot tea (coffee you never see in 
 India, or at least it is not fit to drink), watch 
 the shifting crow^ds below you. There are 
 jugglers, with all sorts of boxes and baskets. 
 Just lift the top of that small, round one, and 
 from it the deadly but fascinating cobra will 
 rear itself several feet, while it casts search- 
 ing glances around for its enemy, the mon- 
 goose, which it knows is in another basket, 
 near by, and which it also knows will come 
 out victor in every encounter. The mon- 
 goose is a small, weasel-like animal, that 
 seems utterly impervious to the poison of 
 the cobra, and never hesitates to attack it at 
 
Chief of the Monkey Temple, Benares. 
 
Land of the Morning. 7 1 
 
 once. They say that in its wild state it 
 knows of a weed that it always eats after a 
 battle, but certainly no such antidote was 
 present here, and yet it sprang at the serpent 
 the moment it was released from its case, 
 and came off the victor. We had them both 
 up on our veranda. The instant the cobra 
 came from its basket, it reared its head, and 
 with distended hood and glistening eyes ad- 
 vanced majestically and swiftly toward me, 
 but the speed of its advance was nothing to 
 that of my retreat, and, though assured that 
 its fangs had been extracted, I mounted from 
 chair to table, from table to balustrade, and 
 finally started to climb up a pillar in a man- 
 ner worthy of a member of the N. Y. A. C. 
 Suddenly the serpent seemed to collapse, as 
 it were, and then tried to slink out of sight. 
 Looking for the cause I saw the gray head 
 of the little mongoose just above its basket, 
 while its sharp, black eyes, glittered in an- 
 ticipation of its coming triumph. Gliding 
 
72 Eastzvai'd to the 
 
 suddenly forth It advanced swiftly upon the 
 cobra, and seizing it by the jaw, held it, no 
 matter what its struggles were, and they 
 were terrible. However, the fight was only 
 for a show, so the juggler, seizing both snake 
 and mongoose, separated them, returning 
 each to its case. Then I came down from 
 my pillar. 
 
 There is no known antidote for the poison 
 of the cobra. Its work is swift and sure. I 
 saw, however, in a morning paper here, that 
 the life of a child, in Colombo, had been 
 saved, but only because the snake had just 
 bitten a rabbit, thereby exhausting the venom. 
 The child seeing its tail sticking out of the 
 ground, had pulled it out. The serpent is 
 of a very delicate build, and if you see it in 
 time, one blow of your cane will break its 
 neck, after which you can admire its colors, 
 light brown very strongly marked with dark 
 brown, at your leisure. Though thousands 
 fall victims to the snakes in this torrid land, 
 
Land of the MoDiing. 73 
 
 they are usually natives who walk through 
 the long grasses barefooted. The govern- 
 ment lately offered a reward for every ven- 
 omous serpent, brought in alive or dead, but 
 was forced to cancel said reward, as the na- 
 tives took to breeding the snakes in every 
 old well and chimney in the country. How- 
 ever, they are rarely visible in winter, and 
 you need have no fear in coming. 
 
 Down in the square a huge, grey ape (with 
 long, chinchilla mane) wrestles ever and 
 anon with its master, and throws him. Just 
 now he has tossed a rock, a foot square, 
 fifty feet or more, upsetting a basket and 
 several hampers of fruit. The damage done 
 thereby was in the hands of the arbitrators, 
 i, e., the rest of the motley throng, when we 
 left Bombay, four hours later, for the caves 
 of Elephanta. Starting in a steam launch, 
 from the "Apollo Bunda" — the great pier 
 of the city — a sail over a beautiful bay 
 brought us to an island, embowered in palms 
 
74 Eastward to the 
 
 and mangoes, and flaming with all the gor- 
 geous coloring of the tropics. Up a flight 
 of stone steps, old, and covered with moss — 
 deep in the side of a hill — one finds the fa- 
 mous temples of Elephanta, cut out of solid 
 rock. Chamber after chamber gives evi- 
 dence of the orreatest amount of careful la- 
 bor, and of the most fanatical destruction. 
 Broken columns, dismembered idols, are 
 around you every- where, while in the grand 
 hall sits a colossal and majestic statue of the 
 great triple-headed god of the Hindoos. 
 The central face, that of Brahma, the crea- 
 tor, seeming to be "all amaze" at the de- 
 struction around him. The face to the right 
 is Vishnu, the preserver, soft and full of 
 mildness, while the terrible features of Shiva, 
 the destroyer, are carved on that to the left. 
 I was disappointed in these famous caves, 
 though I can't tell why. The view over the 
 harbor of Bombay, the islands and the 
 ocean, is most beautiful, but I do not care to 
 
Land of the Mo7^7iing. 75 
 
 visit these temples again. They are the 
 only ones of note near Bombay, and that 
 city itself does not — aside from the Towers 
 of Silence, and from the fact that it is your 
 first Indian city, your first glimpse of these 
 Eastern peoples — possess any object of es- 
 pecial interest. The English portion is beau- 
 tiful, and the railway station the most mag- 
 nificent in the world, beside which, the one 
 on Forty-second street, New York, is a mere 
 shed. 
 
76 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 IN Bombay you must provide yourself 
 with the thousand and one things nec- 
 essary for your journey inland through 
 both hot and cold countries. You must 
 possess a tope or thick felt hat, through 
 which the heat of the sun can not pene- 
 trate (an ordinary felt, such as we use at 
 home, would be no protection, and straw' 
 worse than useless). You will adorn the 
 tope with a brilliant scarf called a " purge- 
 ree." You must purchase your traveling 
 bed, your spirit lamp, and last but most im- 
 portant, secure a good servant. This is 
 generally done through your banker. Ours 
 was recommended to us by a Miss Miles, of 
 England, who was delighted to know that 
 her "faithful Thomas would secure such an 
 excellent berth." Well, he did ; but how 
 
Land of the Morning. "]*] 
 
 we fared you will hear later on. If these 
 Hnes ever meet her eye, and I have no no- 
 tion that they will do so, I should just like 
 to know ''what she did it for." 
 
 Even at this entrance to India, the people 
 strike you as of a much higher order than 
 those of Egypt and Syria, and they do not 
 swarm so, thereby reminding you of black 
 ants suddenly scared from some carrion. 
 There are, of course, millions on millions of 
 them, but each race retains its distinguishing 
 characteristics. The Parsees are stately, 
 dark eyed, and fine featured, extremely in- 
 telligent, and most pleasant to meet with. 
 They came, originally, from Persia, and are 
 therefore fire worshipers, which accounts for 
 their strange and to me horrible mode of 
 disposing of their dead. Earth, fire, and 
 water are alike sacred, and can not be pol- 
 luted. Hence there is nothing left save the 
 birds of the air. The bearers and custo- 
 dians of the Towers of Silence are consid- 
 
yS Eastward to the 
 
 ered polluted and live apart, always dress- 
 ing in white with faces hidden, their identity 
 forever unknown. 
 
 The Parsee is the Jew of India as to 
 trade, and has almost excluded that race 
 from the land. There are some, however, 
 in Bombay, but you do not meet them else- 
 where ; whereas the worshipers of the sun 
 are every-where. 
 
 The Hindoos are also tall and stately, 
 and are the wandering merchants of the 
 land (the Parsees are never such, but carry 
 on the greater trades in the towns and 
 cities). You are at first quite overpowered 
 by the dignity of these Hindoo merchants. 
 Such salaams, such gestures ! and when, 
 after you have finally purchased something, 
 for which you have perhaps paid three 
 rupees (one dollar), he takes your hand, 
 and laying it first on his heart, and then 
 kissing it, departs with a deeper salaam, 
 you feel very much like a fool, considering 
 
La7id of the Morning, 79 
 
 the size of the transaction, and the knowl- 
 edge you possess that, though he appears 
 to so debase himself before you, he would 
 no more sit at your table or eat food you 
 might give him than he would allow his 
 head to be cut off — he would certainly starve 
 first. I have offered the most repulsive 
 beggars the best of meat and bread, and 
 they have, though apparently starving, al- 
 lowed the dogs to eat it, while they cast 
 looks of the most superb disdain at me. 
 To touch it in any way would for them 
 mean instant loss of caste, loss of every 
 thing in this world and the next. There- 
 fore ''welcome death" in its most hideous 
 forms rather than that. But let us move 
 on. All India — what a feast — is before us. 
 
8o Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 "Dim dawn behind the tamarisks — the sky is saffron -yellow, 
 
 As the women in the village grind the corn, 
 And the parrot seek the riverside, each calling to his fellow, 
 
 That the dav, the staring Eastern day, is born." 
 
 ^^^X TILL he come, do you think?" 
 Y Y '' ^ doubt it strongly, but 
 the horses and 'rickshaw are 
 ready, and we will go on if he does not." 
 It is early dawn at Aboo Roads Station. 
 The ever increasing light shows us a wide 
 expanse of yellow earth, dotted here and 
 there with white houses and the domes of 
 many Hindu temples and tombs. In the 
 distance one of those terrible Parsee towers 
 catches the first gleam of the coming sun, 
 while from its summit slowly rise three or 
 four hideous vultures, seeking with out- 
 stretched necks the advent of their morning 
 
La7id of the Morning. 8 1 
 
 meal. We stand, anxiously awaiting- an 
 overdue train — they are always overdue in 
 India — in which our servant, Thomas, should 
 arrive, he having been left somewhere be- 
 tween here and Baroda. It's not a light 
 matter in India to have this happen. I was 
 not aware that it had happened us, until, ar- 
 riving at a junction where we were to change 
 for ''Aboo Roads," I discovered that such 
 was the case. As one travels with enough 
 to stock a shop, the sudden move was, to 
 say the least, confusing. Beds, bedding, 
 baskets of fruit and luncheon, bottles of 
 milk and tea, an ice chest, satchels, rolls, 
 and books, were but a few of the things that 
 were suddenly dumped on the platform, un- 
 til we wondered if we had not started a ba- 
 zaar. No use growling. Thomas was left. 
 So we gathered up as best we might, and 
 bundled all into another train. 
 
 So strange are the scenes through which 
 we pass, that no time is found in which to 
 
82 Eastward to the 
 
 produce order out of the chaos, and we are 
 dumped at Aboo Roads Station in much the 
 same state as at the junction. 
 
 ''Are those boys in that field?" No, in- 
 deed, they are monkeys, at least a hundred, 
 and of all sizes and conditions. They must 
 be playing ball, for surely that is the umpire, 
 whom both sides are abusing, and nothing 
 save a sudden spring to a neighboring tree 
 saves his hide. Off in a corner sits a wise 
 looking mother monkey deeply engrossed in 
 the care of the youngest of her family. We 
 are tempted to approach, but discretion is 
 the better part of valor. One scream on her 
 part would bring the entire pack about our 
 ears, and monkeys are so very personal, 
 even to the taking of one's clothes. As the 
 train flies northward we see thousands of 
 them, in the country, in the towns, peering 
 over the tops of the stations, until it is hard 
 at times to distinguish between man and 
 monkey. They are alike in color, but while 
 
Land of the Morning. 83 
 
 the former wears some clothing, the lack 
 thereof is forgiven the latter because of their 
 much more intelligent faces. About noon 
 we are served with luncheon, on a shaded 
 veranda — said process being closely ob- 
 served by some dozens of natives and mon- 
 keys, and four o'clock brings us to " Aboo 
 Roads." What a hopeless looking place 
 to our Western eyes, servantless and bag- 
 gage laden ! What are we to do ? A white 
 station, long, low, and cool-looking, embow- 
 ered in a strangely beautiful, magenta-col- 
 ored vine or flowering tree, whose name we 
 have not yet learned. Here for the first 
 time we are introduced to a "bungalow," 
 that building provided long years ago for the 
 weary traveler, in this land where hotels 
 were unknown. A half dozen bed-rooms, 
 surround a general sitting-room, each with a 
 bath-room, so arranged that water would run 
 out and snakes could run in — a pastime they 
 are very fond of. Hence, though it is winter, 
 
84 Eastward to the 
 
 we spend an hour calking every possible en- 
 trance. 
 
 A wide veranda surrounds the house, 
 which is topped by a thatched roof a foot 
 thick. The place is dusty and full of the 
 shadows of dead and gone " Sahibs," but 
 they trouble not us living ones, and I pro- 
 ceed in the absence of Thomas to "make 
 house" for the night. 
 
 The rooms are provided with a cot bed, 
 but bedding of all sorts you must carry with 
 you. Even if you visit a private house this 
 is the case. Expressing our surprise to an 
 Anglo-Indian lady, at this fact, she replied: 
 " Oh yes, indeed, because we sometimes 
 have to house as many as forty or fifty, 
 though we always have cots, we can not 
 have bedding for so many." Still, one 
 never loses the strange sensation produced 
 by hearing women, evidently in high life, call 
 to their servants from the car window, 
 *' Don't forget to give me my bed." After 
 
Land of the Morning. 85 
 
 all that old command, *'take up thy bed and 
 walk," did not necessitate great labor ; did 
 not mean rosewood or mahogany — but 
 simply a pillow and comforter. It would sur- 
 prise us at home to have ten or fifteen guests 
 arrive, followed by a lot of swarthy "coo- 
 lies," each bearing a bundle of bedding on 
 his head, which is quickly dumped in the 
 hallway and guarded by the soon slumber- 
 ing servant, but when your guests, bed-time 
 comes all is ready and comfortable — so while 
 in "Rome, do even as the Romans," sleep- 
 ing soundly the while. 
 
S6 Eastward to the 
 
 "H 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 AS the sahib ordered horses for 
 Mt. Aboo?" 
 
 "Yes, but our servant is miss- 
 ing; can we go on?" 
 
 "Certainly; he can follow. The horses 
 will be here with a 'rickshaw for the lady at 
 3 A. M. It is necessary that the sahib climb 
 the mountain before the heat comes on, and 
 it is not wise to be out after dark, as the 
 tigers come up from the ravines." 
 
 So, with every thing in readiness, we three 
 stand waiting in the early dawn for Thomas 
 to appear. With a puff and a shriek the 
 train rumbles in. "Is he there?" "For 
 heaven's sake, how can I tell? I don't 
 believe the angel Gabriel could pick him 
 out of such a crowd." 
 
 There are at least a thousand passengers 
 
Land of the Mornmg. ^J 
 
 sitting" row after row, in cars that resembled 
 American stock cars, and as all have taken 
 off their turbans, it is simply impossible to 
 distinguish between them. Thomas knew 
 this well, and many times I have caught the 
 black grinning at my perplexity, until he 
 was finally told that if he did not come when 
 he saw me I would turn him loose on the 
 spot ; but this time there is no trouble. 
 There he comes, a tall ghostly figure, in the 
 yellow dawn of this Indian morning ; and 
 so we start on a visit to Mt. Aboo and her 
 temple at Dilwarra. 
 
 The ponies are swift and easy, moving 
 with a bird-like motion, which soon carries 
 us beyond the confines of the town. Leav- 
 ing the hideous ** Tower of the Parsee," 
 with its horrid secrets, to our right, we com- 
 mence to climb the mountain. Onward and 
 upward for fifteen miles, now through a wil- 
 derness of palms, and again through a ''wil- 
 derness of monkeys." You have simply to 
 
S8 Eastward to the 
 
 shake the former and out drops the latter. 
 I remember one scene on the point of Mt. 
 Aboo which rose as a background, while to 
 the right, hundreds of feet below us, stretch- 
 ing to its meeting with the deep blue sky, 
 the yellow plain quivered in the intense heat 
 of noonday. Immediately before us stood 
 a low thatched hut, over which, bending 
 and swaying as in a mighty wind (here 
 where there was no wind), rose a stately 
 palm tree. No sign of life anywhere ; sol- 
 itude most intense had cast its mantle over 
 the scene. Suddenly, at the sound of our 
 approach, there dropped from the tree onto 
 the roof of the hut three gigantic monkeys, 
 while from the low door sprang a family of 
 wretched grey beings, between whom and 
 the apes it was hard to distinguish. The 
 effect was weird and uncanny, but it was 
 entirely destroyed by the small boy of our 
 party asking ''who pulled the string." We 
 
Land of the Alorning. 89 
 
 laughed, which only increased the gravity 
 of these orientals, who rarely smile. 
 
 Another hour's ride brought us to the 
 village of Mt. Aboo, so seldom visited by 
 the tourist ; yet it is one of the beauty spots 
 of the earth, and forever healthy — People 
 flying thither in the hot season as unto the 
 ''shadow of a great rock in a weary land." 
 Each house seems perched on its own great 
 bowlder — many actually are so — while the 
 roads and paths wind around like those of 
 an English park. 
 
 Lakes, over which the stately palm and 
 mangoe trees are bending, glisten here and 
 there in the keen sunlight. It is noon, and 
 the air quivers with the great heat. White 
 bungalows, embowered in strange shrubs 
 and plants, seem the abodes of sleep, and 
 deep silence reigns supreme. I remember a 
 picture in my geography marked "x-\sia," 
 which, as a boy, so fascinated me. Well, 
 here is the oricrinal. 
 
 o 
 
90 Eastward to the 
 
 Even in January the heat is too much for 
 us. and an intense sigh of reHef escapes as 
 we sink back in the lono^ cane chairs on the 
 vine-covered porch of the " Keyser-e-hind " 
 Hotel. 
 
 By the way, you should try one of those 
 chairs. One can not sit up in them, but oh! 
 how you can lie down in them, and one 
 does not care to do much else in India. 
 Long and low, yielding and fitting into every 
 part of your tired body, with long arms 
 which are used quite as often for the Ameri- 
 can and Englishman's legs as for his coffee 
 cup. Take your cigar and try one. You 
 are very apt to go asleep, and when you 
 awaken you will find you are surrounded by 
 a group of dark-skinned figures, crowned 
 with gorgeous turbans and clothed in white, 
 each resting against a huge pack. Catching 
 your eye they are instantly on their feet, and 
 with deep salaams beg the Sahib to look at 
 what they have, and so, ere long, you are 
 
Land of the Morning. g i 
 
 absorbed in your first shopping in India, 
 which, even to a man, soon grows charming. 
 As each pack yields its treasures, you are 
 quickly imbedded in Kashmires, veiled in 
 silks of Bombay, or tissues of Benares, w'hile 
 across your knee is thrown a Bokhara cur- 
 tain into which some long dead maiden has 
 stitched her very life and soul, pausing only 
 w^hen she married, after which it must for- 
 ever go unfinished. That is the reason why 
 you find most of them in an incomplete 
 state. 
 
 I bought a very complete one, and was 
 assured by the merchant that •' she very old 
 and ugly ; she no get a man." Here are 
 also silverware from Lucknow ; brass from 
 Benares, and copper of Kashmir, standing 
 imbedded in softest carpets from Agra or 
 Umritsur. 
 
 " Now% what will the Sahib give for this 
 dainty silver bowl ?" 
 
 Beware, these men are rogues. I have 
 
92 Eastward to the 
 
 had much experience in Egypt, and know 
 that if I want an article I must express no 
 interest therein, and never offer more than 
 one quarter of w^hat is demanded. They 
 will protest that you rend their hearts, make 
 the flowers wither in Paradise for sympathy, 
 and are taking the very bread from the 
 mouths of their children. But hold to your 
 figure, and shortly, with a profound salaam 
 they will lay it at your feet and depart with 
 a benediction — to return next day. So it is 
 at Aboo. 
 
 The golden glory of the setting sun is 
 over all, and deep shadows already in the 
 valley before we venture out to explore the 
 temples. I doubt if the peerless Taj Ma- 
 hal — which we have yet to see — can be more 
 beautiful than these sacred shrines of Par- 
 swanatha. 
 
 In the Holy of Holies, in each temple, sits 
 the god enthroned on a marble elephant, 
 with five other elephants on each side. From 
 
Land of the Morning, 93 
 
 his forehead blazes a great diamond, while 
 curtains of marble, so lace-like and delicate 
 in their carvings, that they seem to sway in 
 the air, hang round about him. The halls 
 and corridors of the outer courts eclipse the 
 beauty of the far-famed Alhambra. There 
 are five of these temples, each seemingly 
 more beautiful than the other. 
 
 Though they possess nothing of the grand- 
 eur of Karnak, or the stateliness of Athens 
 or Baalbec, they are most exquisitely beauti- 
 ful, being more after the style of the " Court 
 of Lions" at the Alhambra, except that 
 while there much is of stucco, here all is of 
 the purest marble. 
 
 The Alhambra was erected for the com- 
 fort of kings — this to the glory of the gods. 
 The Moors have passed forever from Gren- 
 ada, but the Jains still worship in these 
 halls of Dilwarra. While we of the West 
 may enter the outer courts, we can gaze into 
 the "Holy of Holies" but for an instant. 
 
94 Eastward to the 
 
 We are not of the "elect," so we turn away 
 leaving" the god to his solemn silence — to his 
 deep slumber of centuries. 
 
 With all India before us, it is quite impos- 
 sible to linger long on beautiful Mt. Aboo, 
 but with Jeypoor to hurry us onward, no re- 
 gret can be lasting. Rajpootana, of which it 
 is the capital, is a native state, over which 
 England has merely a protectorate. We 
 shall, therefore, see the Maharajah in all his 
 glory. 
 
 Tigers are not infrequently met with on 
 the Aboo road. We were told that the 
 best way to get rid of them was to either 
 ''shy" rocks or shake an umbrella in their 
 faces. Fortunately, we were not called upon 
 to do either, as the royal beast did not favor 
 us with a sight of his terrible person. Dur- 
 ing the progress of the governors of Bom- 
 bay, through these mountains recently, the 
 cook was missing when dinner was wanted. 
 Going back some distance they found traces 
 
Land of the Mor7ii?ig. 95 
 
 of a tiger, which, on being followed three 
 miles into the mountains, brought them to a 
 spot where lay all that was left of the cook, 
 the palms of his hands and the soles of his 
 feet, parts that for some strange reason, 
 known only to himself, the tiger never eats. 
 The poor man had been the last of the com- 
 pany, and was seized and carried off so 
 swiftly and silently that no outcry was made, 
 and he was not missed for hours. 
 
 But we reached the railway in safety, and 
 finding a train about to start, concluded to 
 go on to Ajmere, though we found but little 
 of interest there. A few old mosques, some 
 immense cisterns, hewn out of the solid rock 
 centuries ago, and full of centuries of dirt — 
 in fact, nothing to delay us, unless it were 
 the garlands of yellow flowers thrown around 
 our necks as we left the mosques. 
 
96 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 JEYPOOR. 
 
 HAVING telegraphed for rooms at one 
 hotel, we decide, upon arrival, to 
 go to another, the Kaiser-e-Hind 
 (Empress of India) and come near causing 
 a riot thereby. Thomas having ordered his 
 washing sent to the first house, the proprie- 
 tor thereof declares he shall not have it un- 
 less we go there also. That settles it, we 
 don't go. Thomas may imitate Adam be- 
 fore the fall before we submit to being brow 
 beaten. Not that I can see that it makes 
 much difference about his clothes. They are 
 all white, all shaped alike, and I for one never 
 can discover which particular piece belonged 
 fore or aft, up or down. 
 
 Our hotel is without walls, literally amongst 
 tombs and Hindu shrines, which rise around 
 
Land of the Morning. 97 
 
 in all directions — strange little pagoda-like 
 structures, neglected, surrounded and cov- 
 ered with dust ; at night the haunt of the 
 jackal, and even of the royal tiger, though 
 he does not come often. As I look through 
 my window the rising moon throws into 
 bold relief the head of a jackal between the 
 pillars of a ruined tomb. His weird cry 
 makes one glad that the casement is barred. 
 He is on his usual quest for dead men's 
 bones. As we walk through a garder of 
 His Highness, next day, I hear a rush 
 through the bushes, and feel something 
 which I fancy must be a cat, climbing my 
 back, but it is a royal Bengal tiger, about 
 two feet long. Playful as a kitten, it turned 
 its head to be scratched, and purrs most con- 
 tentedly. 
 
 ''It must be shut up next month," says 
 the keeper, "as it has already tasted blood, 
 and is beginning to bite." Suiting the ac- 
 tion to the words, he places it in its cage. 
 
98 Eastward to the 
 
 It immediately commences that restless to- 
 and-fro, to-and-fro motion, so peculiar to wild 
 animals in captivity. In Jeypoor, as in all 
 Indian cities, it is the people that interest 
 more than the city. Indian houses are low, 
 mean-looking, and of no beauty. Its pal- 
 aces, while they make fine pictures, are cheap 
 and tawdry. Its architectural beauty is en- 
 tirely confined to the temples and mosques, 
 while such of the palaces that have any claim 
 to beauty belong to the long ago, and only 
 make those of to-day more wretched by com- 
 parison. This is especially the case in Jey- 
 poor. But the people are a study of never 
 failing interest. As we approach the mar- 
 ket space, so dense becomes the crowd, that 
 our carriage moves at a snail's pace. Mo- 
 hammedans, Hindoos, Parsee, English, Ben- 
 galis, the tribes from Kashmir and the fur- 
 ther mountains, in all sorts of gorgeous cos- 
 tumes, crowd silently around us. These 
 Eastern cities are all strangely silent. Over- 
 
Friends, pro tem. 
 
La7id of the Morning. 99 
 
 head are flocks of tame pigeons, under foot 
 hosts of beggars. Suddenly, with discord- 
 ant clangor through the crowd, which parts 
 like magic, sweep five enormous elephants, 
 each with a driver seated on its head, and 
 holding the sharp -pronged driving fork ever 
 in readiness. The foreheads of the beasts 
 are painted like Kashmar shawls, while the 
 other trappings are of like brilliant colors. 
 We are near the entrance of the palace, and 
 from its portals comes the Maharajah. In- 
 stantly the thousands go down on their faces, 
 the five elephants range in line and raise their 
 trunks in salutation as His Highness rolls 
 by. He is a little fat, bandy-legged man, 
 brown-faced, swathed in white, wearing a 
 black frock coat, the whole topped by a gi- 
 gantic turban, and he lolls back with a most 
 comical look of disdain, in an English lan- 
 dau. Does he fill your idea of what the Ma- 
 harajah of Jeypoor should be? Did you 
 expect splendid chargers weighted with jew- 
 
lOO Eastward to the 
 
 eled and golden trappings ? Did you look for 
 a stately Othello with the eye of Jove, be- 
 fore whom even you yourself would almost 
 bow the head ? If so, your coming is a cen- 
 tury too late. I saw all that at the jubilee 
 in London, but never in India. These na- 
 tive rulers prefer the hard cash to useless 
 jewels nowadays — but though those gorgeous 
 days of old are gone, much remains, so 
 order your elephants for five in the morning 
 for before sunrise you must be well on your 
 way to the ancient and deserted city of 
 Amber. 
 
La?id of the Morriing. loi 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 "O'er all there hangs a shadow and a fear, 
 A sense of mystery, the spirit davxnted. 
 Which seems to say as plain as whisper in the ear. 
 The place is haunted." 
 
 HAVING obtained permission from the 
 Maharajah, to visit his ancient cap- 
 ital, deserted now for two hundred 
 years, we started in the early morning to 
 avoid the heat. As we approached Jeypoor, 
 through a long line of tombs, we saw seated 
 on one of them, a cloaked and hooded figure, 
 holding a '* cheetah," whose eyes sparkled 
 in the ever-increasing sunlight. These ani- 
 mals ai*e used to hunt the smaller game of 
 the plains and rarely fail in their mission. 
 In size they resemble a leopard, and are 
 of the same color, without the spots, while 
 the ears are pointed like a wild cat's. It is 
 a common sight to see a carriage load of 
 
I02 Eastward to the 
 
 hunters start in the early dawn, with one of 
 these fierce looking beasts, with a hood 
 drawn over the head, on the box with the 
 driver. When the game is in sight the hood 
 is withdrawn, and, like lightning, the " chee- 
 tali " springs away, while the sportsman has 
 nothing to do save watch the chase, which 
 generally ends quickly. It is said that the 
 beast never attacks the does or fawns — al- 
 ways making for the bucks, and if there is 
 but one in a herd he will single him out, 
 passing by all the rest. 
 
 As we passed through the market-place 
 we were favored with another sight of the 
 Maharajah, while the people again prostrated 
 themselves, until the vast square looked like 
 a field of waving grain, and numbers- of ele- 
 phants again raised their trunks in salutation. 
 Five miles from the city our own beast 
 awaited us. What a ride ! Perched on a 
 flat seat, with a small railing fore and aft, 
 and two swinging boards for the feet (all 
 
Land of the Morning. 1 03 
 
 called the ''howdah"), we held on for dear 
 life — the fall would have been some twelve 
 feet, and we might have been stepped on — 
 while the huge bulk beneath us rode un- 
 evenly forward. How hot the sun was and 
 how wretchedly uncomfortable we were, en- 
 vying even the crocodiles asleep in the 
 waters of Amber! But, it was over at last, 
 and we were finally, with snorts and grunts, 
 on the elephant's part, and tears of thanks- 
 giving on our own, deposited before the pal- 
 ace. We decided to walk back. 
 
 Amber, in its location, reminds me of the 
 ancient city of Shechem, in Palestine. A 
 narrow valley, with high hills on either side, 
 and a small lake between. On the highest 
 point to the left stands the palace, " clear 
 cut against a sky of tawny gold," while up 
 and down the hills for miles spreads the an- 
 cient city, roofless, tenantless, silent, and de- 
 serted by all save the birds of the air and 
 monsters in the lake. Weird, fantastic, and 
 
I04 Eastwai^d to the 
 
 beautiful it looks In the early sunlight, sur- 
 rounded by Its almost perfect, though an- 
 cient, walls — from whose towers no banners 
 'float, no gleam of sclmlter Is seen, no blare 
 of trumpets heard. Yet you hesitate to ap- 
 proach her portals lest the ghostly guardi- 
 ans of the dead, If not the living, forbid your 
 entrance, lest you be brought here to this 
 altar In her palace courts, and offered up as 
 were so many thousands In the days of old, 
 a human sacrifice to their gods. The mar- 
 ble Is yet dark with blood stains. 
 
 If you are wise, you will turn back now 
 and remember Amber as you saw her with 
 the mantle of silence thrown over her crum- 
 bling walls, but of course you are not and 
 will be conducted through many rooms of 
 the palace, gaudy, tawdry, and utterly with- 
 out beauty. Nothing can make white-wash 
 and plaster beautiful, and the Inside of the 
 palace is that and nothing more, save where 
 in a few rooms, now and then pieces of mir- 
 
Lmid of the Morning. 105 
 
 rors and colored glass have been inserted as 
 decorations only serving to make their sur- 
 roundings the more hideous. In bygone 
 centuries the life here may have been beau- 
 tiful, provided it was utterly unlike that of 
 the India of to-day, but it is gone and has 
 been gone so long, that these walls bare no 
 "touch of a vanished hand," throughout all 
 their vastness. Had the palace been allowed 
 to go to ruin, it might have become romantic 
 and picturesque, instead of that it has been 
 white-washed frequently, so nothing more 
 need be said. Outside, however, all is 
 beautiful. Time has thrown her mantle 
 over crumbling towers and ruined stairs, 
 over broken casements and stately portals, 
 unclosed now for two hundred years. We 
 wander off down the mountain, through 
 groves of brilliant flowers, past silent fount- 
 ains and ghostly lakes, keeping a sharp 
 lookout for cobras and crocodiles, now the 
 sole inhabitants of Amber. I am told the 
 
io6 Eastward to the 
 
 place is deserted because it is the custom to 
 move the capital every three hundred years. 
 I doubt that, as Benares has stood where it 
 now stands for something over one thousand 
 years before our era. We are forced by the 
 heat and the distance to mount the elephant 
 again, and he seems to grin with glee over 
 the tortures he knows he will inflict. For a 
 mile we hold on like grim death, while the 
 beast groans, the driver shouts, and the 
 ropes creak like those of a ship in a gale. 
 Released at last, and fleeing to the shelter 
 of our carriage, we are soon back in bustling 
 Jeypoor. 
 
Land of the Morning. 107 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 IT is a great relief to get in from the glar- 
 ing sunlight to the cool shade of the 
 hotel, where we immediately plunge 
 into violent altercations with the numerous 
 vendors of all sorts of wares, the result 
 being a forced purchase of another box in 
 which to carry the goods — all of which did 
 not cost as much as the box. Still, this 
 proves one of the most pleasant parts of In- 
 dian travel. The merchants never lose their 
 temper, even when they spend hours and 
 sell nothing. If they do become indignant 
 at your ofter, and after packing every article 
 securely, march off with much stateliness, 
 then be assured that they will return in quick 
 time and take your price, calling down the 
 blessing of heaven on so generous a patron, 
 
io8 Eastward to the 
 
 until you begin to believe that you have paid 
 too much. 
 
 Carpets made at the Jeypoor jail are 
 noted for their beauty and we go there 
 to see them, but the sights and sounds 
 that greet us make us wish that England 
 would, for the sake of common humanity, 
 abolish all these native states, though the 
 traveler would lose thereby much that is 
 picturesque. Visit this jail and you will be 
 more than willing to lose all, that these 
 sights and sounds shall vanish from the face 
 of the earth forever. 
 
 As we enter we hear that strange cry of 
 greeting from the prisoners, *' Ah dow," ac- 
 companied by the bringing of the fist of one 
 hand into the palm of the other. To your 
 right hang carpets of wondrous hues in va- 
 rious degrees of completion, one of which I 
 order, but the Rajah, shortly afterward 
 ordering work for several years, I shall 
 never get it. Off in the corner, in a little 
 
Indian Merchants, Jaypoor. 
 
Land of the Morning. 109 
 
 six by six cell, open to the hot sun, pelting 
 rain, and the gaze of all, a human figure, a 
 woman, clings wildly to the bars, greeting 
 us with the discordant, hollow laughter of 
 lunacy — naked and groveling in filth, eaten 
 alive by flies and vermin, seemingly implor- 
 ing our help, while it is utterly impossible 
 for us to aid her in any way. It is too much, 
 and we leave with a strong desire to do 
 bodily harm to that little Maharajah that 
 passed us yesterday, and with a strong dis- 
 content with England, that she will even 
 ''protect" a place that holds such horrors. 
 It almost destroys the pleasure of travel in 
 the far East, this constant turning up of the 
 terrible ulcer, neglect of the poor and sick, 
 that underlies so much that is beautiful, until 
 one dreads to contemplate the latter, lest the 
 horrors of the former be thrust before him. 
 A visit to the art school formed a pleasant 
 finale to our stay in this city. There is much 
 
no Eastward to the 
 
 to interest one — especially in the etchings on 
 brass. 
 
 The highest compliment that can be paid 
 you here is to send elephants to meet you 
 as you arrive. It certainly can not be called 
 a " hollow " compliment. As we leave Jey- 
 poor, there are six of these huge beasts 
 gaudily painted and caparisoned, swaying 
 like ships at sea, awaiting some English dig- 
 nitary. Heaven help him, one nearly kills 
 us. So, with one last glance over Jeypoor, 
 with her splendor and misery, to the distant 
 mountains, where deserted Amber sleeps on 
 forever, we start northward for Delhi. 
 
Land of the Mornutg. 1 1 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 DELHI. 
 
 "There, on that throne to which the blind belief of millions 
 raised him, sat the prophet chief, the great Mokanna." 
 
 TO one who delights in shopping (and 
 every one does so in India), Delhi 
 is both heaven and hell, the former 
 because of the beauty of the objects, the 
 latter because of the vendors thereof, they 
 being worse than the plagues of Egypt, in- 
 vading not only your hotel, but your bed- 
 room (I found SIX in mine when I awoke this 
 morning), and clinging to your carriage like 
 insects. They know, however, that their 
 beautiful Kashmir shawls, ivory work, and 
 painted miniatures will, in the end, loosen 
 your purse strings, so they don't mind being 
 kicked out of your room or beaten off your 
 carriage, though the former is apt to spoil 
 
112 Eastward to the 
 
 your appetite for " choto hazri," and the 
 latter ruin your temper for the day. But 
 we must see this famous city before we can 
 be bothered with them, and a fast pair of 
 horses soon carries us to where the traveler, 
 standing on the crumbling walls of the fort 
 of the ancient, long-deserted, and ruined 
 city of " Yudishthira," sees before and 
 around him the vast plains of Delhi stretch- 
 ing away, a waving expanse of delicate 
 green, from which here, there, and every- 
 where rise the ruins of seven cities — fifty 
 square miles of ruins. Far to the left that 
 beautiful fluted column, the ''Kutb Minar," 
 pierces the sky, while before you the three 
 domes of the great mosque of modern Delhi 
 seem to float in the air. 
 
 The architects of Europe and America 
 pride themselves upon their work, and they 
 have produced much that is beautiful. The 
 dome of our capital, of St. Peter's and St. 
 Paul's, are certainly so in their way, but to 
 
La7id of the Morning. 113 
 
 my mind they are not to be compared in 
 beauty with the domes of India. Take, for 
 instance, those of the Taj and Pearl Mosque 
 at Agra, and this great mosque of Delhi, 
 and their beauty seems scarcely of this 
 earth. As we stand looking out over the 
 latter city they rise so fairy-like, so bubble- 
 like, that you marvel that the breezes do not 
 waft them away. This floating effect is, of 
 course, due to their shape, which, on this 
 mosque as on many others, seems almost a 
 complete circle. Straighten their lines in 
 the least and you at once anchor them, at 
 once make them of the earth earthy. 
 
 The city is full of interest on all sides, 
 both past and present. Here in the fort is 
 the famous Pearl Mosque, also that beau- 
 tiful Hall of Audience, all glistening with 
 marble and precious stones, bearing the 
 famous distich, "If on earth be an Eden of 
 bliss, it is this, it is this, none but this." 
 Here stood the Peacock Throne, that was 
 
114 Eastward to the 
 
 carried away by Nadir. Mr. Beresford, In 
 his "Delhi," thus describes it: 
 
 " In this hall was the famous Peacock 
 Throne, so called from its having the fig- 
 ures of two peacocks standing behind it, 
 their tails being expanded, and the whole 
 so inlaid with sapphires, rubies, emeralds, 
 pearls, and other precious stones of appro- 
 priate colors, as to represent life. The 
 throne itself was six feet long by four feet 
 broad. It stood on six massive feet, which, 
 with the body, were of solid gold, inlaid 
 with rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. It 
 was surmounted by a canopy of gold, sup- 
 ported by twelve pillars, all richly embla- 
 zoned with costly gems, and a fringe of 
 pearls ornamented the borders of the can- 
 opy. Between the two peacocks stood the 
 figure of a parrot of the ordinary size, said 
 to have been carved out of a single emer- 
 ald. On either side of the throne stood an 
 umbrella, one of the oriental emblems of 
 
Land of tJie Morning. 115 
 
 royalty. They were formed of crimson 
 velvet, richly embroidered and fringed with 
 pearls ; the handles were eight feet high, 
 of solid gold, and studded with diamonds. 
 The cost of this superb work of art has 
 been variously stated at sums varying from 
 one to six millions of pounds sterling." 
 
 It is gone now, however, and not a stone 
 or pearl or bit of gold ever came back to 
 this deserted palace, where we wander 
 to-day through court after court, hall after 
 hall, with walls covered with mosaic paint- 
 ing in precious stones — splendor every- 
 where — until we feel that we should be 
 robed and jeweled in order to be in keep- 
 ing with all the gorgeousness around us. 
 We owe the preservation of this, as well as 
 every other thing of beauty in India, to the 
 English, as it seems part of the Moham- 
 medan creed never to repair any thing, even 
 the temples to God. 
 
 We met to-day in the great street of the 
 
1 1 6 Eastward to the 
 
 city the " Chandni Chauk," a Hindoo god, 
 making his triumphal progress through the 
 town. About the size and appearance of 
 the world famous and well known figure of 
 "Punch," he looked sad and lonely without 
 Judy and the Devil — a sort of Othello with 
 his occupation gone. Seated in a car drawn 
 by many disgustingly painted, dirty, and 
 naked priests, and cooled by two others 
 waving great peacock feather fans, he made 
 his stately (?) progress to the sound of many 
 gongs and much music, the whole present- 
 ing so disgusting and degraded a picture 
 that I was strongly tempted to take a horse- 
 whip to the wretched gang, all of whom 
 would have fled at the appearance of an 
 able bodied man. This Hindoo religion 
 strikes me as being most degraded — at least 
 all others seem to worship something di- 
 vine — while this degrades the people to the 
 worship of portions of their own bodies, 
 one of their most popular idols being a 
 
La7id of the Morning. 1 1 7 
 
 model of said portion. To be sure it is 
 claimed that this was done in the catacombs 
 of Naples ; but, if so, it is a custom that 
 has long since vanished from amongst even 
 the lazzaroni of that city, degraded as they 
 still are. 
 
 At Delhi you first enter the Land of the 
 Mutiny, and from now onward until Calcutta 
 is reached the very air is burdened with the 
 memory of those bloody days of 1857. 
 Still a bloody mantle was nothing new to 
 India, nor was the carnage of those days 
 equal to that one awful slaughter of the 
 citizens of this same city by the troops of 
 Nadir, when, at his command in 1739, they 
 put to the sword for revolt against him some 
 240,000 (more than all the English in the 
 land at present), and at which time he car- 
 ried off some seventy millions sterling in 
 treasure. They did not do things in a 
 small way during the reigns of the great 
 ''Moghuls." Still the horrors of '57 were 
 
1 1 8 Eastzvard to the 
 
 something awful, and as you wander through 
 the EngHsh cemeteries of the different cities, 
 reading the names of the thousands of brave 
 men, to say nothing of the helpless women 
 and children who perished then, you can not 
 but ask the question, ''Was India worth 
 all this ? Can she ever repay the hearths 
 and homes of England for the desolation 
 she caused them?" Of course she is an 
 immense source of income for the younger 
 sons of the "mother country," who, by the 
 law of primogeniture, are thrown on the 
 world to shift for themselves, and nearly all 
 of whom, entering the army or navy, spend 
 most of their lives out here, where they are 
 better paid than at home. So India is a 
 vast outlet for this class of men, and is also 
 a rich field for the merchant. However, all 
 that she has to offer would not induce me 
 to live amongst her people, to be hourly in 
 danger of a repetition of such horrors. 
 
 But enough of the mutiny now, as it will 
 
La7td of the Morning, 119 
 
 be impossible to pass Cawnpore and Luck- 
 now without almost living over that dark 
 period, until the very sunshine will seem 
 clouded with its shadow. So let us leave 
 Delhi, remembering her as we last saw her, 
 resting like a swan on her nest, and flooded 
 by the golden radiance of the setting sun, 
 that, blessing alike the living and the dead, 
 the slayer and the slain, lights our way as 
 we speed onward toward Agra, that Mecca 
 of all travelers, where to-morrow we shall 
 see the ''Taj Mahal." 
 
I20 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 " One morn a Peri at the gate 
 
 Of Eden stood disconsolate ; 
 And as she listened to the springs 
 
 Of life within, like music flowing, 
 And caught the light upon her wings. 
 
 Through the half open portals glowing, 
 She wept to think her recreant race 
 
 Should e'er have lost that glorious place." 
 
 Agra, y<^;2. 27, 1890. 
 
 IT is not within the scope of mortal pen, 
 in any degree to do justice to, or 
 clearly describe, this " Crown of the 
 Palace." Go back to it again and again, 
 spend hours before it in the sunlight, hours 
 with the light of the moon casting its soft 
 splendor over all, and in years to come you 
 will sometimes wonder whether it w^as not in 
 very truth a dream — whether there were in 
 reality such things there as hard marble and 
 harder precious stones. Through a gate- 
 
Land of tJie Morning. 1 2 1 
 
 way that would, in itself, be a marvel, else- 
 where, we entered an enchanted garden, 
 where long rows of stately cypress bordered 
 sparkling waters, while brilliant southern 
 flowers and a rain of roses offered contrast 
 to their dark green foliage. At the far end 
 arose something white and luminous, and 
 we knew we were standing before the 
 "Taj." High on a marble platform, guarded 
 by four stately minarets, worthy to be a 
 mansion of heaven. It would not surprise 
 you to see the white winged angels of the 
 Revelations appear on the summits of its 
 domes, calling with their golden trumpets 
 the hosts of heaven from the blue depths 
 beyond. In the everlasting twilight within, 
 sleeps she for whom it was raised, and by 
 her side he who so loved her that he gave 
 the best years of his life to the construction 
 of this shrine for her body — " Sha Jahan." 
 It almost seems that their spirits linger here 
 in sweet communion ; you listen wonder- 
 
122 Eastward to the 
 
 ingly ; are those faint, far off voices merely 
 an echo of your own whispers, or '' the fare- 
 well sigh of a vanishing soul?" "Only an 
 echo," say you? Well, if so, the echo is a. 
 seraph, and will not respond to loud, coarse 
 notes, even were it possible for you to use 
 them here, but, to a note of music it will 
 answer again and again, like a voice from 
 another w^orld. 
 
 In the surrounding gardens one finds per- 
 fect peace and silence. The air is heavy 
 with perfume, while the music of the fount- 
 ains lulls body and soul into slumber ; the 
 heat, the dust, and the glare of India is for 
 a time forgotten. Hour after hour passes 
 away, still you are loth to leave, and not un- 
 til the glory of the sun is passed, and the 
 glory of the moon is full upon it, not until 
 the white-robed custodian warns the Sahib 
 that it is long past midnight, do you move 
 reluctantly away, wondering w^hether the 
 morrow will not find it all a dream. 
 
Land of the Morning, 123 
 
 There is much else in Agra of beauty and 
 of intense interest. You will spend hours 
 in her fort wandering through its deserted 
 palaces, and gazing at its pearl mosque. 
 You will visit the tomb of the prime minis- 
 ter, will take the twenty mile ride to the 
 ruins of '' Fathpur Sikri," and the nearer 
 tomb of " Akbar ;" you will spend much 
 time in delightful quarrels with her mer- 
 chants, while you gaze in never ceasing 
 wonder and interest at that gorgeous and 
 constantly shifting panorama — "the people." 
 But, you will return again and again to these 
 gardens, will begrudge every hour that you 
 are forced to pass without them, and when, 
 at last, you must leave them, perhaps forever, 
 you will move away in silence, turning again 
 and yet again for one glimpse more of this 
 vision of heaven — this shrine and this tomb, 
 the "Taj Mahal." 
 
124 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 CAWNPORE. 
 
 " Pray for rescue, wives and mothers — 
 
 Pray to-daj !" the soldier said ; 
 " To-morrow, death 's between us, 
 
 And the wrong and shame we dread." 
 
 THE very name makes one shudder, 
 bringing to mind, as it does, recol- 
 lections of the most frightful scenes 
 of the mutiny. It is all quiet enough now, 
 and it scarce seems possible that horror 
 could have brooded so long over this smiling 
 river, the sacred Ganges, which we see here 
 for the first time, broad and rapid, with 
 waters a beautiful green, rolling away to the 
 eastward. On its right bank a small temple, 
 with a flight of steps (ghats) to the waters 
 edge, marks the spot where Colonel Ewart 
 and all his men were so fearfully murdered. 
 
Land of the Morning. 125 
 
 Just through that archway Nana watched 
 the devihsh work. Up that small gully be- 
 hind, the women and children were hurried 
 to death, and worse than death, while the 
 men, having been guaranteed safe conduct 
 by Nana, were huddled into boats only to 
 be made marks for the deadly bullet, as 
 they drifted down the river. Soon the little 
 crafts were all ablaze, and the poor fel- 
 lows who might otherwise have escaped 
 the assassins were driven into the water, 
 where the swarming crocodiles finished the 
 slaughter. 
 
 We were conducted around the town by 
 Sergeant Lea, who passed through not only 
 the mutiny, but all other horrors of which 
 India is so rife. Amongst the minor, so it 
 seemed to him, w^as the loss of his second 
 wife and four children, in a few hours, 
 from cholera. He mentioned this in a hur- 
 ried " aside," seeming to think it of small 
 importance, things, as it were, to be easily 
 
126 Eastward to tJie 
 
 replaced ; at least, he is living with his fourth 
 wife — so cholera is not without its benefits 
 after all. He told us, among many other 
 things, that he brought one day to these 
 ghats an English bishop, well versed in the 
 languages of India, who, after inspecting 
 the temple, asked whether it were under- 
 stood what the natives had written all over 
 the walls, i. e., " What we did here before 
 is nothing to what we will do again," etc. 
 So you see the feeling has not and does not 
 pass away, and you can not but shudder 
 when you think of the handful of English — 
 less than 200,000 — surrounded by 150,000,000 
 of these terrible people. I may be wrong, 
 but to me the situation is full of danger, and 
 it is increased hourly by the treatment the 
 people receive. If I dared treat an Ameri- 
 can servant as these are constantly treated, 
 it would end in the courts before a day had 
 passed. To be sure, they are most exas- 
 perating and stupid. Of course, the general 
 
La?id 0/ the Morning. 127 
 
 policy of the government is all that can be 
 desired, but I refer to that ot individuals. 
 For instance, the young officer with us was 
 a man generally of the mildest disposition, 
 a perfect gentleman and most kind-hearted, 
 yet he used such harshness by word and 
 act with the natives, that I remonstrated, 
 and he acknowledged that it was unwise, to 
 say the least. You hear this around you 
 constantly, and it is the leaven that affects 
 the whole loaf. You may say that these are 
 only isolated cases. Granted, but Uncle 
 Tom's Cabin was composed of isolated 
 cases, and yet I think no one w^U deny the 
 part those " isolated cases," through its 
 agency, played in our late civil war. It is, 
 however, a grand sight to see this mere 
 handful of English controlling these teeming 
 millions, controlling and educating as fast as 
 possible each and all of them, teaching them 
 to govern themselves, placing wherever it is 
 possible the greatest works of the country, 
 
128 Eastwai^d to the 
 
 railroads, telegraphs, custom houses, etc., in 
 native hands — until, perhaps, in years to 
 come, India may forget that she was ever 
 barbarous, may no longer rejoice in festivals 
 of blood. But she has not reached that pe- 
 riod yet, and, if union were possible amongst 
 her people, England's rule would go down 
 quickly, in terrible carnage. But just here, 
 to me, is the secret of her hold — "A house 
 divided against itself" — and forever, I fancy, 
 for never will Mohammedan do other than 
 despise Hindoo, or Buddhist hold either in 
 aught save sovereign contempt. So also, 
 Bengalese are looked down upon by the 
 up country tribes, and Madras is sneered at 
 for furnishing servants for '' those dogs 
 of Franks " (our own sweet selves). An En- 
 glish officer told me lately that it was a com- 
 mon thing for his soldiers (natives of course) 
 to ask for permission to go down and wipe 
 out a neighboring sect or tribe, "just to keep 
 their hands in " as it were. He also spoke 
 
Land of the Morning. 1 29 
 
 of the Hindoos as more apt to cause trouble 
 than any other sect ; spoke of them as a 
 most discontented people, deep and silent, 
 brooding and resentful, and from whom the 
 mutterings were so constant that it seemed 
 inevitable that trouble, and terrible trouble, 
 would come ere long. He even thought 
 that they would welcome the Russians. I 
 could almost wish Russia would get them, 
 not for the sake of progress — God forbid — 
 but because she would make short work of 
 the whole dirty lot. Then such as were left 
 would perhaps appreciate what they had lost 
 in losing England. I well remember the 
 exclamations of horror during the mutiny, 
 when England blew the Sepoy from the can- 
 non's mouth. It was absolutely the only 
 way to cow or impress these people. They 
 did not dread death in the least, but to be 
 deprived of the religious rite which follows, 
 conquered them utterly. So in Algiers, 
 France found that the guillotine had no ter- 
 
130 Eastward to the 
 
 rors so long as the head was returned with 
 the body, therefore they kept it, and Mo- 
 hammed, finding no means of hauHng the 
 dead into paradise, left them on earth, and 
 crime was materially lessened among the 
 Moors. Here the tales of blood and hor- 
 ror are enough to drive sleep from the eyes, 
 even now, and when you stand at Cawnpore, 
 where the angel in marble holds aloft the 
 symbol of the Christian faith, over the site 
 of that awful well into which helpless women 
 and children were hurled alive, it is hard to 
 keep down the curses. Yet were the hor- 
 rors enacted all over northern India, in any 
 way to be compared to those done in the 
 name of the meek and lowly Jesus, by the 
 '' Inquisition," all over Europe, or by our 
 own ''Puritan Fathers?" I think not, for 
 these were done by barbarians, those by 
 men whom the world called '-enlightened." 
 The mutiny was from end to end horrible 
 enough, but it in no way equaled what this 
 
Sergeant Lea before the Well at Cawnpore. 
 
Land of the Morning. ^ 131 
 
 Sergeant Lea would like to have us believe. 
 We certainly listened to a thousand and 
 one tales, each more terrible than the last, 
 the poor old man having evidently told them 
 over so many times that he almost believed 
 them himself. We learned afterward that 
 he had written a book which the English 
 call "Lea's Lies." Ah well, much is to be 
 forgiven a man who has buried four wives ! 
 
132 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 LUCKNOW. 
 
 " Dinna 3'e hear it ? dinna ye hear it? 
 The pipes o' Haverlock sovind ! " 
 
 THERE .is nothing of beauty in or 
 around Cawnpore, and nothing of 
 interest save the memories of the 
 mutiny — but Lucknow, though she has 
 almost as many sad memories, is also very 
 beautiful. Neither of them has any thing 
 o{ ancient India about them. The king of 
 Oudh built an immense number of palaces 
 and mosques in Lucknow, which from a 
 distance and in pictures, make it a most 
 magnificient city, but approach and you 
 will find they are plastered outside with 
 yellow clay and inside with white, and 
 possess neither beauty nor interest. Since 
 
Land of the Morfiing. 133 
 
 his banishment to Calcutta he has employed 
 his time to much better advantage in raising 
 pigeons (some of which were purchased by 
 Mr. S., and I have since seen them flourish- 
 ing finely at his beautiful ranch in Estey's 
 Park, Colorado.) 
 
 On the rising ground near the center of 
 the English quarter, tower the ruins of a 
 large brown stone mansion surrounded by 
 numerous outbuildings also in ruins, the 
 whole forming the well known and famous 
 " Residency," which for so long and so 
 successfully resisted the attack of the muti- 
 neers. Left in ruins by England as a warn- 
 ing to the people, it looms over all the 
 city and the surrounding country. In one 
 of its rooms the crazy girl, Jessie Brown, 
 heard, long before any one else, the sound 
 of the slogan, " the McGregor, the grandest 
 of them all," tellino- of the cominof succor — 
 of life and more than life to each and all 
 of the beleaguered people. Here also Sir 
 
134 Eastzvard to the 
 
 Henry Lawrence was killed. At Lucknow 
 all were saved — at Cawnpore all were lost. 
 Let us drop the curtain over those, the 
 most terrible days of our century. 
 
 English life seems especially pleasant in 
 Lucknow, this capital of Oudh. It is a 
 favorite post with the army, and during 
 race weeks like an oriental Saratoga, so to 
 speak. Its climate is delightful in winter, 
 as indeed is that of all northern India — hot 
 during the noonday hour, but after and before 
 that, simply glorious, with an air sparkling 
 and full of life, while at night it is cold and 
 fires are always necessary ; nor is it safe 
 to go out at any time without extra wraps. 
 The drives around the city are beautiful, so 
 that we spend much time in the carriage. 
 As we are returning one evening about 
 sunset, huge flocks of flying foxes or " vam- 
 pire bats " pass over us, so low that I can 
 almost strike them with my cane. One 
 morning we visit the trees where they hang 
 
La7id of the Mornijig. 135 
 
 during the day by the thousands in a bHnd 
 and dazed condition. They are certainly 
 most foul and vicious looking things — the 
 body and head of a rat with large strong 
 wings, and at the extremities of the ribs 
 thereof are hooks by means of which they 
 move from limb to limb of the tree they ar 
 on. It would be terrible to be attacked by 
 a lot of them, though I believe they are 
 neither fierce nor aggressive. 
 
 Lucknow is enchanting, and we are 
 tempted to linger on, but our car awaits us. 
 So, after another hour spent in her silver 
 bazars we depart, arriving the next morning 
 early at Benares, the sacred city on the 
 Ganges — the "Mecca" of all the Hindoo 
 world. 
 
136 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 SACRED BENARES. 
 
 THIRTY centuries of uninterrupted 
 splendor have rolled slowly away 
 since this holy city on the Ganges 
 first became sacred unto the Hindoos. 
 Five hundred millions of people hold her 
 name in reverence to-day. What is Rome, 
 with her thousand years and her 200,000,000 
 worshipers, to this ? 
 
 Eight hundred years before Christ, saw 
 Benares much as we see her to-day, saw 
 her streets not only crowded with her own 
 people, but with the thousands and hun- 
 dreds of thousands of pilgrims that came 
 then and come now, to bathe in the sacred 
 waters of the river, to carry the water away 
 with them unto the uttermost parts of the 
 land, to listen to the teachings of her wise 
 
Land of the Morning. 137 
 
 men, to burn their dead — if so be it they are 
 fortunate enough to die while within her 
 walls — to worship the stone bull and the liv- 
 ing bull, to garland the first with flowers and 
 the last also, if he will so permit it, to cast 
 their children to the crocodiles in the river, 
 and themselves before the car of Juggernaut 
 in the street, whilst then as now hosts of 
 monkeys looked gravely and contemptu- 
 ously down on each and all. Calmly the 
 river flowed away bright, blue, and beautiful 
 to the sea. Slowly and silently the palaces 
 on her banks sank into her depths, only 
 to have others immediately built upon their 
 ruins, which in their turn sank and sank and 
 vanished. Still Benares of that time is the 
 Benares of to-day, and nowhere else do you 
 so enter into and appreciate heathen India. 
 Here in the ''Golden Temple" stands the 
 stone bull garlanded in flowers, served with 
 the fruits and grains of the earth, and bowed 
 down to by myriads of people. Through 
 
138 Eastward to the 
 
 that door a live bull and family hold 
 high court seemingly regarding the devout 
 throng with high disdain, and no wonder, 
 for look you yonder at that sweet faced 
 Hindoo maiden bathing neck and face in 
 their offal. From the corners of the roof 
 grave monkeys sit in solemn conclave, or 
 descend with a rush to steal any thing and 
 every thing that you may not be strictly 
 guarding. That well in the center is con- 
 sidered too sacred to clean, and the stench 
 therefrom drives you away, while the scowl- 
 ing looks and evident hostility of the people 
 make you the more ready to go. 
 
 The city from the river presents a truly 
 magnificent appearance. Flights of steps 
 (ghats) rise from her waters on either side 
 as far as you can see, while above them 
 the palaces, temples, towers, and hanging 
 gardens are grouped in bewildering masses. 
 You must come at sunrise and from your 
 boat watch the people as they press in tens 
 
Land of the Morning. 139 
 
 of thousands down her ghats to bathe 
 in the Ganges, after which the person is 
 poHshed in oil of the musk flavor, until it 
 shines like mahogany, and sickens you with 
 the odor. Here a group listen to the teach- 
 ings of a priest, while down that flight of 
 ghats two men are bringing one of their 
 dead, slung in a white cloth attached to a 
 pole. If you are rich, you are well covered 
 with wood and well burned ; if you are poor, 
 the wood is apt to run out, and what is left 
 of you is cast to the dogs, as we happened 
 to see. Children are never burned, but 
 cast to the crocodiles. You are considered 
 dead when brought here, and if you show 
 any signs of life the priest kindly cram eyes, 
 nose, and mouth with mud. If you still 
 persist in living, you are transported to a 
 valley in the north, surrounded on three 
 sides by insurmountable sand cliffs, on the 
 fourth by the river and its quicksands, 
 there to eke out with other like unfortunates. 
 
140 Eastward to the 
 
 dead to the world, a miserable existence by- 
 snaring crows, etc. Kipling tells of it in his 
 "Strange Ride of Mobray Jukes," and it is 
 really claimed that such a spot exists to this 
 day. However that may be, you are dead 
 to the world when once you are brought 
 to these funereal pyres. 
 
Funeral Ghats, Benares. 
 
Land of the Mor^iing, 141 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 SAILING off down the river we visit the 
 summer palace of Ramnagar, where 
 nothing of interest is found save a 
 tiger, down whose open mouth one can see 
 at least a yard. On our return we land near 
 the monkey temple. Over the top of a high 
 wall two solemn faces, evidently sentries, re- 
 gard us for a moment and then scurry away 
 with a ''caught in the act" expression, to 
 warn those at the temple of our approach. 
 At any rate, they are all there, hundreds of 
 them, to receive us. Near the gateway sits 
 an old man, ready to sell sweets and nuts to 
 the visitors for the monkeys. He is sur- 
 rounded by the Supreme Court of " Mon- 
 keydom," in order to see that he gives full 
 measure. He would not dare to do other- 
 wise, as he lives in the neighborhood. Once 
 
142 Eastwai'd to the 
 
 within the temple our Hves become a burden. 
 The animals advance en masse, from the 
 roofs, from beneath the floors, from the 
 Holy of Holies, from the very shoulders of 
 the god, and with them come sundry cats 
 and old dogs, until, for self-preservation, we 
 throw the bags of nuts as far away as pos- 
 sible, said action resulting in a civil war, the 
 termination of which we do not dare await. 
 The beasts became such a torment some 
 time since, that the government corralled 
 several hundred of them, and took them to 
 the mountains in closed wacrons. There 
 they were released. They could not be 
 slain, as they are held sacred by the Hin- 
 doos. Well, every identical monkey got 
 back to that temple before the day was 
 done. Country monkeys are, as a rule, 
 well behaved, and keep to the hills and for- 
 ests, but lately, through the failure of some 
 food of which they are very fond, they have 
 A^entured into the very houses. Only last 
 
Land of the Aloinimg, 143 
 
 week a lot of them entered a town, and ap- 
 proaching a house, sent one of their number 
 in to steal any thing or every thing. A loaf 
 of bread was soon appropriated, which, upon 
 being brought out, mimediately became the 
 cause of war. As usual, the " dark horse," 
 this time in the shape of a small dog, ar- 
 rived, and, seizing the loaf, which had been 
 dropped \\\ the scuffle, fled into the house, 
 where, in plain sight of the much enraged 
 and half-starved monkeys, he proceeded to 
 eat it. Did the monkeys retire ? Not a bit 
 of it, but remained around that house all 
 day long, making most insulting personal re- 
 marks to those who came near it, not for- 
 getting to shy an occasional rock or two. 
 They are, however, on the whole, well- 
 behaved citizens, simply insisting upon their 
 just rights, as first settlers, and I can not but 
 believe that they are rather a more moral 
 lot than their Hindoo brethren. Whatever 
 their religion is, I doubt if they pollute it by 
 
144 Eastward to the 
 
 the introduction of the obscene. I was 
 shown by the guide, here in Benares, a 
 Hindoo temple, covered with the most " un- 
 clean" carvings, and being, therefore, es- 
 pecially sacred to the people. However, 
 that which is obscene to the enlightened 
 races of Europe and America is only nat- 
 ural, and therefore to be rejoiced in and 
 worshiped by the heathens of India. 
 
 As interesting as Benares is to us, a day 
 or so of such Paganism is all we can en- 
 dure, even though we retreat at night to 
 *' Clark's" very delightful little hotel, with- 
 out the walls. So we depart with the sun- 
 rise, and go down to Mughul Sarai Junc- 
 tion, where the Calcutta express soon bears 
 us away to the south-eastward. 
 
 While waiting for its arrival I notice a 
 commotion in one of the station rooms, and 
 upon inquiring the cause am told that the 
 station master has "just died of cholera." 
 As the weather is quite cool enough for 
 
Land of the ill o ruing. 145 
 
 overcoats we are not at all frightened. One 
 can always find cholera in India, if one looks 
 for it, but one soon ceases to dread it any 
 more than small-pox in our own towns. I 
 should be very much more afraid of the 
 fevers of the country, when the great heat 
 comes on in April, when the thermometer 
 mounts to no, 115, and even 120 degrees, 
 and stays there day and night until the mon- 
 soon breaks in July. You have very little 
 chance to escape unless you fly to the hill 
 stations, where, if you preserve your health, 
 you will surely lose your reputation, es- 
 pecially if you go to Simla, unless society 
 has greatly changed of late. Still, you will 
 have a very good time during the losing 
 process. 
 
 On the journey from Cawnpore to Luck- 
 now, a day or two since, there entered our 
 car an English lady, handsome, vivacious, 
 and evidently out of humor. The cause 
 
 thereof was soon known — excessive indig- 
 10 
 
146 Eastwm^d to the 
 
 nation with her husband, who, " returning 
 from home (England) the other day, found 
 the house full of the most delightful officers, 
 and what does he do but turn the whole lot 
 out of doors — even discharged my old serv- 
 ants, who knew my ways so perfectly. Now 
 he tells me I must live the life of a hermit 
 there in stupid Cawnpore. Will I ? Well, 
 not exactly — not at least while the races are 
 on at Lucknow. He don't know I am going, 
 but once there he won't dare to raise a row, 
 and he can't shut up a whole hotel, don't 
 you know." I confessed he w^as "dreadful," 
 yet, from an American standpoint, one can 
 not but sympathize with the husband some- 
 what. Ah ! well, it's all in a lifetime. 
 
La7id of the Morning. 147 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 CALCUTTA. 
 
 CALCUTTA, the magnificent. Miles 
 of wide streets and avenues stretch 
 away in all directions from the 
 central point, " Government House," with 
 every here and there a monument to the 
 dead and gone " Viceroys." Here are War- 
 ren Hastings, the Earls Cornwallis, Auk- 
 land, and EUenborough, there " Canning," 
 and Lords Napier, Northbrook, and Lytton 
 in attitudes passive or defiant, mounted on 
 magnificent chargers, or standing at ease 
 while they gaze with almost life like interest 
 on these scenes so familiar to them m the 
 flesh. At the end of one long avenue near 
 the post-office gleams the monument raised 
 in memory of those who in 1756 perished 
 in the Black Hole. Away to the westward 
 
1 48 Eastward to the 
 
 vast forests of masts show where the Hoog- 
 ley river, that greatest mouth of the 
 Ganges flows away to the sea. Nothing 
 save the great full rigged ships come here, 
 no schooners or brigs, and it impresses you 
 with the fact that you are a long way from 
 home and the rest of the world. Nothing 
 save such ships and steamships can accom- 
 plish the distance and make the journey 
 profitable. 
 
 We reached the city early in the morning 
 and were driven to that abomination called 
 a hotel — the Great Eastern by name ; I 
 never entered a viler or more filthy hole. 
 As a general thing the Indian hotels have 
 been comfortable and clean, but here the 
 vermin and filth made it impossible for us 
 to remain — roaches as long as your finger, 
 poisonous spiders, whose passage across 
 your hand at night, though they may not 
 bite, will cause a festering sore — dirt and 
 confusion and a babel of tongues, which 
 
La7id of the Mornmg. 1 49 
 
 seemed to cause Thomas to lose what Httle 
 sense remained unto him, for many times 
 when we were famished I found him running 
 round and round a pillar in the halls or 
 vaguely wandering up and down waving a 
 soup ladle. All this rendered our entrance 
 on our return from Darjeeling into that 
 haven of rest, Mrs. Walters' boarding 
 house on Russell street, most blissful. 
 (Poor lady, I am told she is dead now, 
 1892). She was a blessing to us in many 
 ways, not the least of which was that she 
 got rid of Thomas, replacing him by a most 
 excellent man, one Sake Baboo by name. 
 Calcutta rejoices in a most superb Zoo- 
 logical Garden. The animals seem in such 
 excellent condition that it is a pleasure to 
 look at them. The tigers alone are worth 
 the journey too see — one of them is said 
 to have killed two hundred natives before 
 his capture, which was accomplished by 
 means of a deep pit covered by branches 
 
150 Eastward to the 
 
 on which a dead native was placed As 
 the tiger always springs upon his prey, this 
 spring was his last, and to this moment he 
 gnashes his teeth in impotent rage with 
 himself and all who come near him, espe- 
 cially against his keeper — so much so that 
 I fancy we should, for a time, be safe were 
 he to get out. There was also a small 
 black monkey that could rival any thing of 
 its size for noise that I have ever met with. 
 Opening his mouth to a square of goodly 
 size, he gave utterance to a series of whoops 
 that were, to say the least, surprising. I 
 heard them in my room at night, three miles 
 away. Then there was a baboon that 
 strongly resembled many of our hoary men 
 on 'Change, with a degree more of intel- 
 ligence in its face. Thousands of birds of 
 the most beautiful plumage, and huge dens 
 of serpents. We shall see more of these 
 gardens on return from Darjeeling, for 
 which place we depart to-morrow. 
 
Land of the Morning. 1 5 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 DARJEELING. 
 
 * If down here I chance to die, 
 
 Solemnly I beg you to take 
 All that is left of ' I ' 
 To the hills for old sake's sake." 
 
 ^ / T F master wishes me to go to Dar- 
 I jeeling with him, I must get some 
 heavy clothes. It is cold, cold in 
 the mountains. " Thomas stands bowing 
 before me in the thinest of white draperies. 
 In our carefully shaded rooms at the ''Great 
 Eastern," we are almost asleep ; it is mid- 
 day and hot, as hot as in August at home. 
 Even this vast caravansary is hushed into 
 silence. Here a group of servants flat on 
 the floor, there an English officer suffering 
 in boots and spurs ; even the ravens are 
 asleep, while through the closely jaloused 
 windows long rays of light strike full upon 
 
152 Eastwaj'd to the 
 
 that cabinet in the corner yonder, causing 
 its occupants, roaches and spiders, to burrow- 
 deeper in the dirt of this vile hotel. 
 
 "If master wishes" — commences Thomas 
 once more. Master wishes nothing save to 
 be let alone. " Man wants little here be- 
 low," but when he has it in the shape of an 
 easy lounge in a cool room in roasting 
 India — he wants it just as "long" as pos- 
 sible. So it is only when sister suggests 
 "poison in my tea" as a small attention 
 from Thomas, if I cause him discomfort 
 (God knows that if I had poisoned him 
 every time he has caused me discomfort, 
 he would long since be at rest with his black 
 ancestors) that I awaken sufficiently to bid 
 him be off and get what is needed, which 
 he does, and we sleep on until 3 p. m., when 
 we start northward and upward, soon to see 
 those grandest works of the great Creator 
 — the Himalayas. 
 
 Leaving Calcutta, yet scarce awake from 
 
Land of the Morni7ig. 153 
 
 its noonday sleep, we travel onward through 
 dense tropical forests and jungles, through 
 groves of palms and mangoes, covered with 
 purple vines, while above them tower what 
 seem gigantic dead sycamores, yet they are 
 all aflame with blossoms like the cactus. 
 As night comes down upon us, or rather as 
 the brilliancy of the day is exchanged for 
 the brilliancy of the moon — the one almost 
 equal to the other — we reach the Ganges. 
 So broad is the river that ample time is 
 allowed for a good dinner, and so slow is 
 the train in starting from the other side that 
 an excellent opportunity is afforded for a 
 most satisfactory " row " with Thomas for 
 having lost my bed. As our morning tea 
 will be gotten at the railway restaurant 
 at Silaguri, he will have no chance to get 
 even by the way of poison, so I express 
 myself for once, having taken the precaution 
 to lock my sister up in the railway carriage, 
 so she can not interfere, not beinor able to 
 
154 Eashuard to tJic 
 
 open the windows thereof. Outside on the 
 glistening sands, seated on a pile of bedding 
 I "take it out" on Thomas, not only for 
 this but all former ills. Before me, white- 
 robed and silent he awaits /with bowed head, 
 until I am exhausted, then su^rg-ests that 
 ** If master will please stand up, I think I 
 can find it." I have been sittinor on it all 
 this time, and for the rest of that trip I am 
 an outcast, treated with condescension by 
 Thomas and with reproving glances by the 
 family, who sided with him, and do not 
 forget the locked doors and windows. 
 However, I have the satisfaction of having 
 told him for once what I thought of him, 
 and then again it acted as a safety valve for 
 a long suppressed emotion, so the family 
 are for a time secure. I remember as a 
 boy, yielding once to that intense desire 
 possessed by each and all of us now and 
 then " to smash something." Seizing two 
 Bohemian vases from the basket of a ped- 
 
Land of the Afor?iing. 155 
 
 dler, left at our old home over night, I fled 
 to the back yard, and to this day, the 
 intense satisfaction (in no way diminished 
 by the punishment I received nor by the 
 flight of years) which tingled through my 
 nerves as I brought a rock down on each, is 
 a joy to me — so it was in my conflict with 
 Thomas. 
 
 It is always cold at night during the 
 winter here, so we sleep under two rugs. 
 Breakfasting at Silaguri in the early morn- 
 ing, we enter a train of little open cars, 
 furnished with leather arm chairs, and 
 raised about a foot from the track, and 
 start again toward the mountains. We are 
 drawn at a lively speed, through clouds of 
 dust, hordes of natives, flocks of parrots, 
 vultures, and kites — through tea gardens 
 and jungles where gigantic tree ferns, 
 twenty feet or more in height, tower above 
 us, forming stately avenues up the glades of 
 the mountains. Look down that one to 
 
156 Eastward to tJie 
 
 the right. There go two great monkeys 
 arm in arm — a sort of Paul and Virginia 
 amongst monkeys, as it were, with heads 
 bowed closely together they pass onward, 
 oblivious both to the parrots shrieking at 
 them from the boughs of the bending ferns 
 and to our puffing little engine. 
 
 We commence ere long to ascend, and 
 all day wind and twist and turn, now 
 making a complete circle, passing over our 
 own tracks in the length of the train, now 
 ascending by means of switch backs, now 
 rushing through the streets of native vil- 
 lages, in every one of which as you go 
 upward the type of people changes, from 
 the naked blacks of the plains to the wild 
 and fur-clad people of far Thibet. Onward 
 and upward until with a final turn you are 
 in the heart of the mountains, in the pres- 
 ence of great Kinchenjanga, towering so 
 far above you that it seems almost a portion 
 of another world. Surely if the Taj is a 
 
The Women of the Mountains, Darjeeling. 
 
Land of the Morjiing. 157 
 
 "mansion of Heaven," this is the sanctuary 
 of the most high God." GHttering masses 
 of snow, great chasms and crevasses, soH- 
 tude never disturbed by the foot of man, 
 heights where human Hfe can not exist — a 
 subHme grandeur and majesty that strikes 
 you dumb, and dumb you remain while m 
 the presence of these wonders of God. 
 Every wind seems full of mystery, every 
 murmur of the primeval pines to whisper, 
 "Before Abraham was, I am." 
 
1 =; 8 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 FROM the point of the Senchal, you are 
 shown a distant peak, Mount Ever- 
 est, but, being nearly one hundred 
 and forty miles away, it is but a spot on the 
 great range. Still, it is the highest mount- 
 ain on the globe. As you stand on Senchal 
 (a cliff of the "Table Rock" order, 8,000 
 feet above the sea) immediately before you 
 mountains fall away, ridge after ridge, valley 
 after valley, in rapid succession, until almost 
 the level of tide-water is reached. Even 
 from here, all the gorgeous colors of the 
 tropics are to be seen, then rising abruptly 
 through the cooler shades of the temperate 
 zone, mountains are piled upon mountains. 
 That little one yonder is higher than Mt. 
 Washington, that next overtops the Matter- 
 horn; Mt. Blanc would hide his diminished 
 
Land of the Morning. 159 
 
 head before the next, while up there, where 
 the snow has fallen for ages and will fall for 
 ages, until heaven and earth shall pass away, 
 ten thousand feet higher than Popocatapetl, 
 towers great Kinchenjanga, 29,000 feet above 
 the sea, or more than twice the height of 
 Mt. Blanc. This height is attained within 
 two hundred miles of tide water, and not 
 after the long, gradual rise of a vast conti- 
 nent. Can your mind grasp it? I think 
 not. No mere lot of figures can ever, in 
 any degree, enlighten you as to the majesty 
 of Kinchenjanga. I had read of it, studied 
 it, but never in any way appreciated it until 
 I stood awe stricken in its majestic presence. 
 Beyond lies the, to us, unknown and un- 
 knowable land of Thibet, where your life 
 would not be worth a moment's purchase, 
 and to reach which you would have to pass 
 the gorges of yonder mountains. So you 
 will not go. The very air seems written 
 over with ''thus far, and no farther." The 
 
i6o Eastward to the 
 
 "government" of China is here, in solemn 
 high conclave, with England in hopes (on the 
 part of the latter) of opening up the only 
 known pass to the other side. They claim 
 that Thibet will offer vast fields for com- 
 merce if they can only get in, but China has 
 not given her permission, and it will probably 
 take her some thousands of years to think it 
 over. 
 
 It is cold in Darjeeling. Thomas was 
 . right as to the necessity for clothes. We 
 are dressed like Polar bears, and still shiver. 
 This hotel, "The Woodlands," is poorly 
 built, and possesses a most independent and 
 disobliging landlord. Still, it is well worth 
 one's while to endure almost any thing in 
 order to see these mountains. Go to Sen- 
 chal once more, and before the sun rises, 
 watch the world of snow around you awaken 
 from sleep, as the shadows of night are ban- 
 ished by the coming of the day. The 
 grander mountains are already awakened 
 
Land of the Morning. t6i 
 
 and Kinchenjanga glows and quivers as in a 
 mighty conflagration. Far below, the val- 
 leys are shrouded in mist, that ever rising 
 and rising, as the air grows warmer, finally 
 dashes like the billows of a mighty ocean 
 against the sides of the mountains — now ris- 
 ing and falling as the ebbing and flowing 
 tide, now met by a cold blast from the re- 
 cesses on high, rolling downward in a vast 
 cataract of foam-like clouds, then rising, 
 rising upward and upward, until peak after 
 peak is hidden, until at last only the crown 
 of Kinchenjanga is left unshrouded. Soon 
 that vanishes and you gaze into chaos. So 
 it will remain all day, for the powers of 
 nature are jealous and allow you but pass- 
 ing glimpses of these, their great master- 
 pieces. 
 
 11 
 
1 62 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 ON our return to Calcutta we go at 
 once to Mrs. Walters, and are most 
 delightfully cared for. Here we 
 part with Thomas, and one "Sake Baboo" 
 enters our service. He really understands 
 and anticipates our wants, and moves quickly, 
 though he does not believe in spoiling me. 
 No matter how much I resent the intrusion, 
 he will insist upon coming into my room be- 
 fore 6 A. M., and immediately proceeds to 
 ''keep house," so to speak, all the while 
 murmuring something about "Missus" and 
 " tea," until the latter being ready, I find my- 
 self suddenly elevated into a half-sitting 
 posture, and feel the delicious beverage 
 pouring down my throat. So, you see in 
 India, you have merely to. open your eyes 
 and see, open your mouth and be fed ; there 
 
Land of the Morning. 163 
 
 is nothing else you need do, save bargain 
 and quarrel, and no free born American ever 
 deputes his right to get into a fight to any 
 one else. These poor servants are satisfied 
 with little, indeed. A rupee a day {^2>Z cents) 
 for wages, and eight annas a week (16 cents) 
 for food, and they are happy. Having made 
 Sake Baboo a present of two or three rupees, 
 he is ours for life, and we hear him telling 
 some other servants that we are " almost 
 like Royal Family." He does not waste 
 much time in confab, but orders me into my 
 bath, assuring me the while that there are 
 no snakes in the bath room. Soon we are 
 out, and rolling along with all Calcutta, 
 drinking in the early morning hours, the bet- 
 ter to be enabled to stand the heat which 
 follows. In an old-fashioned barouche, which 
 forces you to lean back at an angle more 
 magnificent than comfortable, and to assume 
 a most ''scornful" position of the head, 
 drawn by two fine horses, with two men on 
 
164 Eastward to the 
 
 the box, and two standing footmen behind, 
 all clothed in white and wearing gorgeous 
 turbans and sashes, we roll along feeling 
 very much as though we had joined a circus, 
 and wondering what they would say to us at 
 home. For the whole of this, if I remember 
 rightly, the charge is " three rupees per 
 hour." Morning and evening are spent in 
 this wise, and you never become weary of 
 the sights and sounds — never lose the feel- 
 ing as though moving in a dream. 
 
 Sake Baboo was of much service when I 
 came to ship my cases homeward. I scarcely 
 think I could have gotten on without him. 
 He packed them entirely and attended to 
 marking, etc., but I was forced to put them 
 through the custom house myself. The 
 steamship company would not have accepted 
 them unless accompanied by a customs re- 
 ceipt. Though there were no export duties 
 to pay, the red tape to be gone through with 
 was appalling. I was forced to spend some 
 
Land of the Moi-jiing. 165 
 
 five hours, during the heat, dancing attend- 
 ance on the officials, obtaining signature 
 after signature and not paying a rupee, be- 
 fore I could get a bill of lading. One old 
 and fat Indian official was most aggravatingly 
 deliberate, until I fancy I showed some im- 
 patience, when he quietly remarked, "You 
 would wait for your lady love, so why not 
 take a chair over this." I did so. How- 
 ever, it ended at last, and I had the satis- 
 faction of seeing the cases disappear into 
 the hold of this good ship, the "Peshawur." 
 They will reach home long ere I do, as they 
 go backward through Europe. 
 
1 66 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 BAY OF BENGAL. 
 
 IT is midnight when we board this P. O. 
 S. S. " Peshawur," and having made 
 Sake Baboo rich for Hfe, watch him as 
 he waves us farewell from the top of a mov- 
 ing dray. We can not sail before daylight, 
 as no ship dare attempt the navigation of 
 this river by night. What a relief to be 
 once more surrounded by English servants, 
 though we forget ourselves now and then 
 and astonish them by gestures, words, and 
 actions only suitable to "up country." 
 
 Early dawn finds us well under way, and 
 by II A. M. we are off "the sands of James 
 and Mary," where ships have been capsized 
 and utterly destroyed in eight minutes. 
 Leaving Calcutta at 7 a. m., we are thirty- 
 six hours in making the eighty-eight miles. 
 
Land of the Morning. 167 
 
 Tigers are so plentiful on these shores that 
 it was necessary to build a wall around one 
 of the light-houses. Here is also the tele- 
 graph office from which the operator wired 
 to the head office in Calcutta, " Please 
 give instructions. Will have to leave soon. 
 There is a tiger jumping around on the 
 platform." I fancy if I had been that man 
 I should have done much more lively jump- 
 ing than the tiger. I never did believe that 
 story of Buddha's quietly yielding his body 
 to save a tigress and her young from death 
 by starvation, at least not after I had looked 
 a full yard down the throat of that one at 
 Benares. 
 
 We are forced to anchor in the river all 
 night, being too late to cross the bar. One 
 of the ships of the Apgar line passes near 
 us bound for China, and we wave a farewell 
 to our friends on her deck, whom we shall 
 not see again until far Hong Kong be 
 reached. 
 
1 68 Eastwaj^d to the 
 
 It has been our fortune heretofore to meet 
 most deUghtful people in India, people au 
 fait to the world, and its movements, but on 
 this S. S. are the most stupid lot of English 
 to be found above ground. They seem to 
 have lived a life here shut off from all man- 
 kind, and ask questions about events so 
 long dead and gone that one stares in amaze- 
 ment. Traders, all of them, I fancy, people 
 who have not been out of India for many 
 years, and who have lost all track of the 
 outer world. Still, in these days of tele- 
 graph and steam, such things should not be 
 possible. I am asked to-day, by an anglo- 
 Indian judge, whether " each and every rail- 
 road in America does not own its own judge, 
 before whom all cases in which said road 
 are concerned are tried, and who always de- 
 cides in its favor." I laugh in his face until 
 the thought strikes me that perhaps he has 
 heard something of the government of the 
 
Land of the Morning. 1 69 
 
 city of New York, and gotten it mixed with 
 the country at large. 
 
 There is also an old marchioness on board 
 who is kindly taking care of a sick soldier 
 who, worn out by years of this terrible cli- 
 mate, has been forced to leave his wife and 
 family and start homeward in the, as I 
 learned afterwards, vain hope of regaining 
 his health. He died, and was buried at sea, 
 near the "Gate of Tears." Another, a rich 
 young fellow, is troubled with heart disease, 
 and a fiancee (and her family.) The former 
 killed him near Port Said, while the latter 
 had to walk home from Marseilles, possess- 
 ing no cash of their own, and the steward 
 having ''sealed" the effects of the dead man. 
 There is also the usual " enfant terrible," 
 named Launcelot Trelauney, as was so 
 stated on a card about a foot square, which 
 he presented to each and all of us with the 
 request that we "would not forget it." No 
 danger, at least for those of us whose heads 
 
17^ Eastward to the 
 
 he trod on as he chased the ship's cat across 
 the awning. When we leave the vessel at 
 Colombo, he has cut the buttons off of most 
 of the officers' coats, thrown shuffle board 
 and quoits, together with several life-pre- 
 servers overboard, and asked Judge M., 
 whose ship-chair he had smashed, to "give 
 him one sweet kiss." I believe he is going 
 home alone, and I have not the least doubt 
 but that he will get there. I know that 
 during that week's sail from Calcutta, he 
 caused us to grow much graver and older, 
 than nature intended, and we feel, as a lady 
 said to me at home the other day about her 
 mother-in-law, who, like the poor, was with 
 her always, that she " did not wish the old 
 lady to die, but she did think she might 
 travel y Launcelot Trelauney was travel- 
 ing, and, to our misfortune, on the same 
 ship with ourselves. We have also on board 
 some of those strange and unhappy looking 
 ** Eurasians," a race produced in the old 
 
Laud of the Moiniing. 1 7 1 
 
 days, when England was six months away 
 around the Cape of Good Hope, and India 
 was " exile for life," by the intermarriage of 
 the English with the natives, the result being 
 an unhappy lot of people, placed very much 
 as are the mulattoes in our own land, 
 scorning the natives and not tolerated by 
 the English. They have no place or po- 
 sition. The English speak of them as being 
 " touched with the tar brush," or as possess- 
 ing six, eight, or ten " annas to the rupee," 
 according as they range toward white or 
 brown. Some of them are prosperous, 
 even wealthy, but forever carry the low- 
 ering brows and sullen looks of discontent. 
 Surely they can not be greatly blamed there- 
 for. Taking them altogether w^e have ar> 
 odd ship load. Each and all declare they 
 have left India forever. The judge has even 
 sold house and contents, and with the most 
 solemn avowals never to see the country 
 again, has set sail for home. (I inquired for 
 
172 Eastward to the 
 
 him at his club in London the following year, 
 only to find that he had returned to the land 
 of heat and tigers months before). So it is 
 with all of them I fancy. Indian life is so 
 entirely a life of indolence that it utterly un- 
 fits you for any other. In England you will 
 find half a dozen servants in a moderate 
 sized house, while the same house in India 
 would have thirty or forty, each with his 
 particular piece of work, which he attends to 
 daily, doing nothing else. Your body serv- 
 ant will prepare your bath, but the scaven- 
 ger must empty it. You are waited on hand 
 and foot, never doing any thing for yourself 
 or others, and you soon learn to love the 
 life of " dreamful ease," until a change be- 
 comes an impossibility. 
 
 " Gray dusk behind the tamarisks — the parrots fly together, 
 As the sun is sinking slowly over home ; 
 And his last raj^ seems to mock us shackled in a life-long 
 tether. 
 That drags us back howe'r so far we roam. 
 
Land of the Mornimg. i ']2) 
 
 Hard her service, poor her payment — she, in ancient, tattered 
 raiment — 
 India, she the grim stepmother of our kind, 
 If a year of life be lent her, if her temple's shrine we 
 enter, 
 The door is shut — we inay not look behind." 
 
1 74 Eastwai^d to the 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 THE waters of this Bay of Bengal are 
 as placid as a mountain pool, but 
 come to this latitude during the 
 monsoon, in July, when whole towns are 
 blown away, in an hour, when no ships can 
 live, when even the beasts of the earth are 
 driven to cover, and you will doubt whether 
 the land or sea ever knows a peaceful mo- 
 ment. The very names of Pondicherry and 
 Madras bring to mind nothing save whirl- 
 winds and destruction, tidal waves on sea, 
 pestilence and horrors of all sorts on land. 
 We do not leave the ship at Madras, as 
 there is little or nothing to see, and we are 
 worn out vv^ith what we have seen — mind 
 and body will stand no more for the present. 
 I think this journey around the world is well 
 enouorh for once, but I should not care to 
 
Land of the Morning. 175 
 
 make the '' circle " again. Make rather two 
 trips of it and rest between them, for you do 
 reach a point where you must rest, when you 
 can not enjoy any thing more. Let the first 
 trip be from Brindisi to ''Colombo," in Cey- 
 lon. After visiting that island of enchant- 
 ment, cross to the mainland and explore 
 southern India, visiting Tuticorin, Trichi- 
 nopoly, and Ootacamund, thence to Madras, 
 where I should take ship to Calcutta, visit- 
 ing Darjeeling from there. Returning to 
 Calcutta you can take ship to Burmah, re- 
 turning again to Calcutta. Then start north- 
 westward taking in all the points of interest, 
 Benares, Lucknow, Cawnpore, Agara, Gwa- 
 lior, Delhi, Umritsur and Lahore. Turn 
 southward from there to Jeypoor, Ajmere, 
 Mt. Aboo, Baroda and Bombay, by which 
 time you will be ready to return to Europe. 
 You will have seen all you can digest and 
 you had better go home and think about it. 
 When you start again, let it be from Victoria 
 
176 Eastward to the 
 
 direct to Hong Kong, visiting from there 
 Canton, then turn northward to Shanghai, 
 take the Japan ships to Coby and Nagasaki, 
 thence to Kiotio and through the country to 
 Yokohama, Tokio, and sacred Nikko, after 
 which your homeward bound ship will be 
 welcome. 
 
La7id of the J^Ior7iing. 177 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 " The drift of the Maker is dark, 
 An Isis hid by the veil.'* 
 
 BETWEEN Ceylon and Hong Kong 
 there is absolutely nothing of inter- 
 est. It is a two weeks' sail, and the 
 heat may prove terrible, to some of you — it 
 came very near being fatal to one of my 
 party. I certainly should never take an in- 
 valid over that portion of the tour again. 
 As for the seasons — on the former tour Cey- 
 lon should be reached in December, allowing 
 you to leave Bombay, not later than the 
 middle of March, for the heat comes on in 
 April. For the China tour, Victoria should 
 be left in February, allow^ing March for 
 China, and an entrance into Japan about 
 April I St, when the cherry blossoms are 
 
 in all their glory. Still I would " put a gir- 
 12 
 
178 Eastward to the 
 
 die around the earth once." That " there is 
 no education Hke travel" is not a new say- 
 ing, but you will never appreciate the full 
 import thereof until you take a journey 
 around the world, for only on such a tour do 
 you see all lands and all peoples — "at 
 home." Your religious belief will also be 
 strangely affected. I do not say it will be 
 shaken or upset, but you will realize that 
 your religion is only one of many, and not 
 the only one, as you have heretofore thought. 
 You may travel in Europe and the Americas 
 forever, you may even go to Egypt, and 
 still be possessed with the feeling that your 
 belief is the great and only one — the most 
 overpowering one in all senses, for whether 
 Catholic or Greek or Protestant we have 
 really but one belief, God above all, Christ 
 and him crucified ; but come here to India, 
 and you are among 150,000,000 of people, 
 in China, 450,000,000, while Japan and the 
 islands of the sea add millions more to whom 
 
Land of the Morning. 1 79 
 
 the name of Christ means nothing, and has 
 scarce been heard of. The Mohammedans 
 do beheve in God, but the Hindoos and 
 Buddhists, Shintos and the Confucians cer- 
 tainly do not. It gives you such a terrible, 
 baffled, hopeless feeling to look into all these 
 faces, realizing that they live and die as 
 their ancestors have lived and died for ages, 
 in as perfect faith and trust in their creed as 
 we have in ours. Are they lost, think you ? 
 I was once told by our rector at home that 
 all who died without the pale of our belief 
 were lost utterly, whether their opportunities 
 of knowing thereof had been many or few. 
 But is our religion any more the correct one 
 than theirs? If so, would the great Creator 
 of all allow so many more millions of his 
 creatures to die outside the "true faith" 
 than within its pale? Would he leave to 
 one small portion of mankind the salvation 
 of the great majority, while in the mean- 
 time so many millions are living and dying, 
 
1 80 Eastward to the 
 
 and, as some believe, being lost eternally ? 
 Surely not; surely "deep below as high 
 above, sweeps the circle of God's love," is a 
 better, brighter, and far happier creed. 
 
 After a journey such as this you come 
 home with a greater toleration for all men 
 in all things great and small, but with an in- 
 tense pity for the helpless, utterly helpless 
 and hopeless, missionaries sent here from 
 every land to battle with these terrible odds. 
 They are waging a war and bearing trials 
 and suffering that can not in any degree be 
 appreciated by those at home, while through 
 it all runs the hopeless feeling of failure, the 
 almost certainty that those who seem to be 
 converted only assume it through interested 
 motives, for money or good stations. They 
 constantly have relapsed into the belief of 
 their fathers when their teachers were with- 
 drawn, and India would relapse to her bar- 
 barism if England were to desert her post. 
 
Land of the Morning. 1 8 1 
 
 For these men who strive so hard in the 
 service of the great God, I can think of no 
 more fitting epitaph than that all-sufficient 
 one to Sir Henry Lawrence, at Lucknow : 
 *' Here lies one who tried to do his duty." 
 
1 82 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 "We have drunk of the Lethe at length; 
 
 We have eaten the lotus. 
 What matters it now for us 
 
 That sorrows are born and die 
 We have said to the dream that caressed, 
 To the sorrows that smote us, 
 Good night and good-bye." 
 
 FOR the first time since leaving Egypt 
 we are awakened by the pattering 
 rain drops, now faUing softly, now 
 rushing and roaring. Suddenly they cease, 
 and the brilliant tropical sunshine floods 
 harbor, mountains and city. Almost before 
 you have commenced to enjoy it, on comes 
 the rain once more, and again the sunshine 
 follows. So it goes on forever on the shores 
 of Ceylon — alternately smiling and weep- 
 ing, sunshine and storm. Of course all 
 this moisture and heat produces the most 
 
Land of the Morning. 183 
 
 luxuriant vegetation ; every thing seems 
 sprouting and growing until you look aloft, 
 almost expecting to find all covered by a 
 vast roof of glass. The temperature of 
 Colombo never varies the year round. To 
 me it would prove, as do all moist, hot- 
 house like heats, most exhausting, and as 
 there is nothing to detain you there, let 
 us take the train for the ancient capital, 
 Kandy. Here is the Ceylon of your 
 dreams. On the porch of its quaint little 
 hotel we spend a week doing nothing at all. 
 I scarce know how to describe Kandy. 
 Strange that this workaday world should 
 possess a place where all the people seem 
 children out for a holiday. Even the con- 
 victs have a good time, and lie around 
 under the trees all day doing nothing, 
 save laughing, eating, and sleeping, whilst 
 closely guarded by one keeper armed with 
 a green and white umbrella, which is ap- 
 propriated by the prisoners to their own 
 
184 Eastwai^d to the 
 
 use frequently ; so, if you want to go to jail, 
 come here. 
 
 Imagine Central Park in a nook of the 
 mountains, with here and there a picturesque 
 house embowered in flaming flowers and 
 sheltered by stately bamboo trees ; there a 
 bit of sparkling water, with a vista of a 
 tropical town, one storied, white and silent, 
 with great masses of crimson and purple 
 vines tumbling here, there, and every-where. 
 Even the parrots are asleep, and arouse 
 themselves w^ith a clatter as the tom-toms 
 from the temple of Buddhah awaken them. 
 That is Kandy, that is Ceylon ; so you will 
 lie back in your chair sleeping and dream- 
 ing, thanking the Lord for a life so sweet. 
 
 Here is the first Buddhist temple we have 
 met with. There are but one or two in 
 all India. It contains the sacred tooth of 
 that prophet, also the imprint of his foot, 
 a yard long. The creed in many of their 
 works seems singularly pure. That they do 
 
Land of the Morning. 185 
 
 not believe in a personal God is fully set 
 forth when they state that he is ''a gigantic 
 shadow thrown across the sky by ignorant 
 minds." May the unseen powers, what and 
 wherever they be, help us if this is the case. 
 
 We are seated one day on the porch of 
 our hotel dozing, as people are apt to do in 
 Ceylon, when a native, carrying a small 
 green parrot on a stick, passed along. 
 
 *' Uncle, I want that parrot." 
 
 " How will you get it home ? " 
 
 " Why, just as easy as any thing ; such a 
 little parrot." 
 
 Whereupon, not thinking it will be ac- 
 cepted, I offer a rupee, and find the bird 
 ours. The cage cost three rupees, and the 
 steward from Colombo to Hong Kong got 
 a pound for the care thereof, so that before 
 Polly became an American citizen she cost 
 something like %2o. She is alive and well, 
 and goes by the name of Polly Kandy, but 
 like many snobs does not tell what her 
 
1 86 Eastwa7'd to the 
 
 original worth was, enlarging greatly upon 
 her after costliness. She could speak Cen- 
 galeese, but for many months no English, 
 and I do not think she will ever do much 
 of it. (I never look at her without deep 
 feelings of reproach. Having a bottle of 
 ammonia in my hand one day in Hong 
 Kong, I allowed her to take a sniff thereof, 
 which almost settled Polly Kandy. How- 
 ever, that was many weeks later, and when 
 she was somewhat accustomed to the hard- 
 ships of travel.) Now, as I return from my 
 room, where I have carried her, the peaceful 
 stillness of the night is suddenly broken in 
 upon by barbaric clangor, and we start down 
 the street hatless, to be present at whatever 
 may be on hand. Flaming torches throw a 
 weird light over a circle of natives intently 
 watching the motions of a trio solemnly 
 performing their famous " Devil Dance." 
 Stripped to the waist, well oiled, garlanded 
 with yellow flowers (the Buddhist color), 
 
Land of the Mor?ii7ig. 187 
 
 with brazen jars on their heads, over which 
 yellow flowers wave and nod to the music, 
 they are performing a species of stately 
 minuet, with the salutations left out, one 
 carrying a huge cleaver with which to anni- 
 hilate the prince of darkness. As we ap- 
 proach, the circle separates for us, and 
 perched on a stone block we look on as 
 honored guests. Of all strange sights in 
 this fairy land this is the strangest. We, 
 with our prosaic traveling dress, the people 
 with scarce any kind of a dress, the religious 
 rite so solemnly performed yet so grotesque, 
 the intense stillness of the southern night 
 broken only by weird chanting or the call 
 of an awakening parrot — all seems almost 
 to force our senses into slumber, while high 
 in the heavens flames the southern cross. 
 There is some enchantment in the air. 
 We must leave, or the power to do so will 
 desert us forever. 
 
 Here in the gardens of " Peradenia " waves 
 
1 88 Eastward to the 
 
 the upas tree ; but, though death would 
 surely resuh from a night under its branches, 
 it would come in the form of the graceful 
 but deadly cobra, which here abounds in 
 such numbers as to render entrance after 
 sunset certain death. In our walk around 
 the lake at dusk eyes and sticks are con- 
 stantly on guard. Strange that a land so 
 beautiful should hold such horrors under 
 every leaf and twig. Still the beauty of 
 Ceylon is soul-satisfying and never to be 
 forgotten. Now, as we watch it sink into 
 the western ocean, it seems more dream- 
 like, more heavenly than ever. There at 
 last is a spot where one would willingly 
 live life over. 
 
 " Whose sandal groves and bowers of spice 
 Might be a Peri's paradise." 
 
Land of the Alorning, 1 89 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 S. S. MERZAPORE. 
 
 IT is interesting to watch the inspection 
 on Sunday morning of the crews of 
 these EngHsh ships. From the first 
 officer down to the lowest Lasckar, they 
 must stand in Hne, while the captain passes 
 slowly before them, minutely inspecting each 
 and every uniform, or rather costumes, for 
 no nation or S. S. line ever adopted some 
 of these remarkable productions. Near me 
 the first officer, correct in every point, stands 
 at " attention," in his spotless suit of white 
 duck, with cap of the same material. Next 
 comes the doctor, a dashing blonde, a man 
 of the banjo, and a great favorite with the 
 ladies. There is also the purser, much of 
 the same type, while the engineer is not en- 
 tirely sure that he has gotten all the oil off his 
 
190 . Eastward to the 
 
 hands. After the long Hne of stewards and 
 stewardesses, comes the crew, natives, all of 
 them, and robed in all the colors known to 
 man. There stands one in white Indian 
 dress, over which he has donned an old 
 dress coat, while his feet rejoice in an ab- 
 sence of stockings and in a low pair of pat- 
 ent leather shoes, with green cloth tops. 
 On his head a turban of gorgeous colors 
 and aspiring character, mounts and twists 
 and turns, ending finally in a peak of crim- 
 son so high up that its wearer can scarce 
 pass under the awning. In fact, many other 
 turbans down the line are crammed against 
 said awning, much to the annoyance of the 
 wearer, who, obliged to stand erect, in the 
 presence of the captain, can not escape the 
 plunges of the ship's cat, who always takes 
 Sunday morning and this particular moment, 
 for an airing on the upper side of the canvas. 
 The man's costume must have come partly 
 from Egypt, partly from Ceylon, and — yes. 
 
Land of the Morning. 191 
 
 certainly that coat first saw the light in our 
 own blessed land — Kansas City, I should 
 judge by the cut. The last in the line is a 
 small black boy, who possesses just one 
 garment, which was never intended for the 
 use to which it is being put. That makes 
 no difference to him, however, and as the 
 captain, in his glory of white and gold 
 passes him, he is quite the most erect of 
 all. After inspection is over, church comes 
 on, conducted by a preacher from the west 
 somewhere, and who is bound to convert the 
 most of China, and do it on the rules laid 
 down by his congregation in Kalamazoo. 
 Our chairs are too long and easy for church, 
 and the most of us are soon in dreamland, 
 only to leave it at the summons to luncheon. 
 It is very hard to make such a ship load 
 awaken to the dangers and horrors of '' Hell, 
 fire, and damnation," when they are so 
 comfortably drifting over this beautiful 
 world given us by the great Creator. So, 
 
19- Eastwm'd to the 
 
 with thanks to Brahma for having made it 
 all, with firm trust that "Shiva" will pre- 
 serve it all, let us leave "Vishnu" in his 
 abode of gloom — the hour of destruction is 
 not yet. The sea is as placid as a summer 
 lake. Faintly outlined on the horizon to 
 the north of us, lie the Nicabar Islands, still 
 inhabited by cannibals, to whom we would 
 prove most welcome. Soon Penang (the 
 hottest spot on earth, and yet many English 
 live and enjoy life there), and Singapore are 
 passed, and we have turned the corner ; 
 henceforth every revolution of the screw 
 carries us to cooler climes. Now the people 
 change ; gone are the white-turbaned Indi- 
 ans, while sad-eyed Orientals, in strange 
 looking junks, drift past us. These junks 
 are wonderfully built, all of elastic wood 
 cleated together, and able to outride the 
 strongest gale. This ship, on her last voy- 
 age, passed one during a typhoon, not a 
 soul visible, driving under sail hither and 
 
Land of the Morning, 193 
 
 thither over the trackless ocean. After re- 
 peated signals one man appeared for an in- 
 stant, and waving the steamer off vanished 
 again. Surely this is the acme of fatalism — 
 "What is to be, will be." "I have not 
 made the world, and he that made it will 
 guide." 
 
 How the little island of England stretches 
 her hand over all the great world ! She is 
 every-where, while we are nowhere. We 
 have been traveling for months, through 
 many lands, and have seen many peoples, 
 but have only been greeted with one pass- 
 ing glimpse of our own flag, on the Hoogley 
 river, and thoroughly out of place it seemed. 
 The polar star rides higher and higher in 
 the heavens, while the southern cross sinks 
 lower and lower. We shall not see it at all 
 to-morrow night. Now the waters have lost 
 that placid, sleepy look, and the waves 
 break merrily, as we enter the harbor of 
 Hong Kong. 
 13 
 
194 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 CHINA. 
 
 // A ^ KUM " is pious, if he swindles 
 y\ you while guiding you through 
 old Canton. He will do it with 
 most pious mien and devoutly clasped hands 
 on which the long pointed finger-nails curl 
 with a strong suggestion that he would like 
 to try on you " an outside barbarian " the 
 famous death of a thousand pieces. 
 
 Leaving Hong Kong last night when the 
 setting sun was turning the mountains of 
 her peerless harbor into gold, we steam up 
 the eighty miles that separate that English 
 city from this town of ancient China, Can- 
 ton. The change in climate is as great as 
 the change in cities. There all was balmy 
 and beautiful, and, lured by the climate of 
 
Land of the Morning. 195 
 
 a May day, I came off in a light spring suit. 
 Imagine my dismay to be awakened by the 
 howHng winds of winter. If it had not been 
 for a bottle of whisky purchased instanter, 
 and a ship's robe kindly loaned by a lady on 
 board, I should have seen naught of this 
 quaint and curious city, and all day long we 
 three, bottle, robe and man, travel in close 
 communion in a sedan chair through mile 
 after mile of her streets, so narrow that my 
 extended hands could touch the buildings 
 on either side. It is marvelous the speed 
 and endurance of these chair bearers. At 
 a rapid trot all day long they carry me 
 through the mazes ol this wonderful city, 
 until my mind seems to lose all sense of any 
 thing save a confused mass of ever-changing 
 color. Now you leave the streets and are 
 borne through cool, green lanes to the 
 pagoda of the five stories, from which all 
 Canton is visible, encircled by turreted walls 
 and pierced by the shining river. Here and 
 
196 Eastward io tJie 
 
 there rises a pagoda of many stories and 
 colors, but the general impression is a vast 
 expanse of dull gray roof, with scarcely re- 
 lief of any sort. Outside the walls as far 
 as the eye can penetrate sleep the dead in 
 their horse-shoe-shaped tombs. Naught is 
 sacred in China save the dead. Living, you 
 are nothing, dead, you reign supreme. It 
 would scare conduce to your comfort to un- 
 derstand what is flung at you by these 
 hostile people as you pass among them. 
 It would not be safe for you to walk, and 
 you can not go into the interior at all. If 
 you sail up any of the rivers your boatman 
 is answerable with his head to your consul 
 for your life. I asked an Englishman to-day 
 how he liked his voyage of twelve hundred 
 miles up the Yangtsy Kiang. " Oh, very 
 much." 
 
 '' Was it not dangerous ? " 
 
 '' Oh yes, indeed, we never left the boat 
 but once, and then had rocks thrown at us." 
 
Land of tJie Mornmg. i(^y 
 
 From all I could gather there is nothing 
 interesting in scenery or people to repay for 
 the fatigue and danger. Every face in Can- 
 ton seems hostile, and oh the odors ! Noth- 
 ing is thrown away. Every thing is carried 
 through the streets generally in pails strung 
 on poles and hung over the shoulders of 
 coolies, who take no pains to keep you from 
 falling therein, and I know would take the 
 greatest delight in dashing the vilest stuff 
 into your face ; especially do the ladies ex- 
 cite their wrath. 
 
 In Canton you find the most marvelous 
 embroideries, both old and new. The 
 Chinese possess no idea of perspective, 
 but they are miarvels at execution and imita- 
 tion. The life on the Pearl river is not to 
 me a pleasant sight. The stream itself is 
 filthy, the boats squalid, and the people seem 
 very depraved. They say there are fully 
 half a million that never come ashore. Here 
 are the house boats, here are also the famous 
 
1 98 Eastward to the 
 
 and inlamous flower boats, here is every 
 sort of vice and disease that the sun shines 
 on — so let us leave it and go back to Hong 
 Kong, from which to-morrow the " City of 
 Rio " will carry us northward. I am forced to 
 give up Shanghai and Pekin. I suppose I 
 ought to deeply regret it, but I do not. 
 One Chinese city is quite enough, and Can- 
 ton is by all acknowledged to be the city of 
 China for quaintness and interest. Hong 
 Kong is beautiful, and like Yokohama, half 
 English and half Chinese, though owned 
 and controlled by England, being one of 
 the treaty ports. Her harbor is acknowl- 
 edged to be the grandest on the globe and 
 is certainly most beautiful. Entirely en- 
 circled by lofty mountains, with space for all 
 the navies of the world, with its lively, 
 bustling, and beautiful city and thousands 
 of ships, it forms a charming and delightful 
 picture. It should be a most healthy spot, 
 yet it is quite the reverse. Low fevers pre- 
 
Land of the Morni?ig. 1 99 
 
 vail and a decidedly unhealthy condition of 
 things generally. I regard ourselves as 
 extremely lucky in having escaped the al- 
 most universal fate. Unless greatly occu- 
 pied in business it would be a place of 
 deadly monotony. There is but one drive 
 of some four miles, very beautiful truly, but 
 after all, very like a scene from a theater. 
 It is the great mart for sandal wood, that 
 most delicious of all perfumed things, also 
 for those sweet scented camphor woodchests 
 such as every old uncle in every old time 
 novel used to bring back with him, hence I 
 bought one myself. 
 
 You will spend much time in the shop of 
 *' Sun Shin " trying to beat him down in 
 prices, but you are not now in India and the 
 ** heathen Chinee " is equal to you. If your 
 purchases are many he will allow you " dis- 
 count for cash," but things are his way now, 
 not yours, as they have been for so long. Still, 
 you will come away ladened with exquisite 
 
200 Eastward to the 
 
 embroidery on satin and crepe, with rolls of 
 the famous " Canton crepe," with carved 
 ivories and sandal wood, until your camphor 
 wood chest is crammed full. These China- 
 men will imitate any thing you possess. Of 
 course you remember the story of the 
 Englishman who wanted a new pair of 
 trowsers and gave the tailor an old and 
 patched pair as a pattern. Well, the new 
 ones were an exact copy, even to the 
 patches. I noticed that the bills of fare in 
 the hotels had numbers opposite every item, 
 and that orders were not given for soup, fish, 
 etc., etc., but for Nos. i, 3, 5, 18 and 26, as 
 the taste dictated, and there never was any 
 mistakes made by " John." 
 
 Farewell to China. I agree with Bayard 
 Taylor, " It is a good place to leave." 
 
Land of the Morning. 201 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 CITY OF RIO. 
 
 THE coast of China, to our left, is 
 shrouded in mist as we steam north- 
 ward from Hong Kong, while that 
 city rejoices in a bath of sunshine. Un- 
 healthy though it was, it had proved a pleas- 
 ant spot for the week of our sojourn. All 
 of these treaty ports are pleasant. The 
 English are always glad to see you, and the 
 Chinese who reside amongst them seem to be 
 of the better sort — seem to have lost much 
 of that nastiness which renders China, pure 
 and simple, so disgusting. 
 
 " Sun Shin " was certainly a jolly-faced, 
 kindly-disposed merchant, and gave you 
 full worth for your money, while he gently, 
 but firmly gave you to understand that he 
 
202 Eastward to the 
 
 was neither Bengalese nor Cengalese, and 
 that you need not, therefore, waste your time 
 and his own by trying to beat him down. I 
 chanced to go back to his shop during the 
 meal hour one day, and found him seated, 
 together with four of his sons, at a beautiful 
 teakwood-table, and eating rice with chop- 
 sticks of ebony from dainty bowls of porce- 
 lain. Every thing about him was clean and 
 wholesome. How different from the squalor 
 of Canton. However, he has vanished with 
 so many other picturesque figures of this 
 tour into the bottomless well of the past, 
 leaving only the dainty odor of our sandal 
 and camphor woods to remind us of the 
 pleasant moments spent in his shop. The 
 rest of the morning was passed in a ride — 
 not the first by any means — around the only 
 drive of the city, "The Happy Valley," and 
 now we are steaming northward, leaving, as 
 it proved, all the sunshine behind us until 
 Japan be reached, some five days hence. 
 
Land of the Morning. 203 
 
 These are dangerous coasts, dangerous to 
 navigate, dangerous because of the many 
 pirates that swarm these waters — in fact all 
 China carries on that trade. The " San 
 Pablo " was wrecked here not long since, 
 and her officers and crew were obliged to 
 use their fire-arms to protect their lives and 
 personal property. As for the ship, she 
 was so completely "looted," that the winds 
 and waves found little to destroy. I can not 
 say that I am pleased with this Pacific Mail 
 S. S. Co. The officers are all polite and at- 
 tentive, but the ships thereof seem conducted 
 in a shiftless manner that does not give 
 one that sense of security always felt on 
 English vessels, all of which seem thor- 
 oughly manned and guarded like " men of 
 war," while these — well, during the storms 
 on this particular sail, we all had the feeling 
 that we were "going it alone " — that it was 
 "hit or miss," as it chanced, and in the case 
 of the " San Pablo " it was '* miss," with the 
 
204 Eastward to the 
 
 results already described. You will find 
 both in Hong Kong and Yokohama, that 
 when you tell people that you are going on 
 this line, they will invariably appear sur- 
 prised, and question your reasons therefor. 
 Even in the case of the superb new S. S. 
 " China," such was the fact. She w^as a 
 most magnificent vessel in every sense, and 
 cost much money, but he captain, in a 
 slouch hat and hands deep in his pockets, 
 gave the key-note to the entire management. 
 Americans, English, every one, in fact, will 
 recommend the other lines, and now\ that 
 these superb Canadian ships have appeared 
 on these waters, our one poor line will stand 
 little chance, and a great pity it is. 
 
Land of the Morning, 205 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 " Cradled and rocked in Eastern seas, 
 The islands of the Japanese 
 Beneath me lie." 
 
 I AM awakened in the early morning by 
 a sudden blow from something thrown 
 into the port-hole — a bunch of superb 
 white camelias — while at the same moment 
 a voice cries, '' Ohio, Ohio." Most remark- 
 able ! How did he find out that was my 
 native state ? How did he know who I was 
 or where I was, and who is he pray ? I am 
 not left long in doubt. Two brown hands 
 cling firmly to the vessel's side, and soon a 
 dusky, smiling face, topped with bristling, 
 wiry, black hair, peers at me from the sun- 
 shine without, and a cheery voice assures 
 me that "me more better rickshaw boy in 
 all Yokohama," asking at the same time 
 
2o6 Eastward to the 
 
 whether he shall '' come up top side." 
 Away beyond him sharply outlined against 
 the sky rises the peerless sacred mountain, 
 '' Fusijama," while in the foreground spreads 
 Yokohama, embowered in a mass of cherry 
 blossoms. The air is full of the freshness 
 of spring, all the languor and lassitude of 
 the south is gone, and I rise to a new life in 
 the " land of the morning " — Japan. 
 
•*Me more better Rickshaw Boy in all Yokohama." 
 
Land of the Morning, 207 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 JAPAN. 
 
 " On the white sands of Homoko 
 Past the bridge of Negishi, 
 Stood a little maiden idly 
 Gazing o'er the summer sea. 
 Gazing at the white sails gliding 
 To the distant fisherj' — 
 Round the point of Tomioka came the jobbling of the sea." 
 
 I THINK the great charm of Japan Hes 
 in the fact that death seems to have 
 no part or place there. Every-where 
 else the wide world over, its presence is 
 paramount — in Europe, through the hideous 
 cemeteries and crowded cathedrals ; as in 
 Egypt, all is of the long dead past. Look 
 from your windows in India and nothing 
 seems visible save the shrines of the dead. 
 Of all sizes and conditions they seem to 
 crowd upon you from the stately Taj to the 
 
2o8 Eastward to the 
 
 humble funeral ghat on the banks of the 
 sacred river at Benares. China is one vast 
 necropolis, and even in our own grand west- 
 ern forest the dead seem every-where, but 
 here in Japan they have no part or place. 
 Now and then you come upon a little pile of 
 stone too close together to allow of a human 
 body, and mostly unmarked. They are not 
 *' set apart," but are in the midst of the 
 houses. All the time of our sojourn we 
 did not see a funeral. The gay life bubbles 
 and sparkles around you, even the boy who 
 hauls your " rickshaw " smiles as he runs 
 away with you. Flowers bloom in all di- 
 rections ; here the stately camelia, there 
 great masses of cherry blossoms, and again 
 the flaming azalia, backed by garlands of 
 wistaria, while all around are sparkling 
 waters, and in the distance against the deep 
 blue sky gleams their peerless mountain, 
 Fusijama. All is light, laughter and happi- 
 ness — that is Yokohama, that is Tokio, that 
 
Land of the Morning. 209 
 
 is Japan. You live your days in and out, 
 
 grateful for your mere existence. For once 
 
 you have forgotten there is care and trouble 
 
 in the world ; once more you are a child 
 
 again. Only when the ship moves under 
 
 you, and when, looking abroad over the 
 
 waste of waters, you realize that Japan has 
 
 vanished, do you awake to the fact that you 
 
 are surely not thirteen, but thirty. Yet 
 
 Japan in no degree compares with the other 
 
 countries in interest. Europe, Egypt and 
 
 India are a constant feast to the mind, while 
 
 Japan simply lulls the senses. I defy you to 
 
 remember the names of her rulers or to take 
 
 any interest in her past. You can not force 
 
 yourself to think of them as a great race 
 
 that have done deeds of daring and valor ; you 
 
 are strongly tempted to laugh at their high 
 
 sounding war ballads, etc. They are a race 
 
 of paper dolls and most delightful paper dolls. 
 
 I fear to enter their houses, dreading that I 
 
 may upset the entire concern. Standing the 
 14 
 
2IO Eastwai^d to tJie 
 
 other day with an English friend in one of 
 the streets of fairy Kiotio, we were re- 
 quested to move on as we were " stopping the 
 commerce," having formed with our over- 
 coats and umbrella a complete blockade of 
 the street. Again I hear " Ohio, Ohio," 
 but being informed that it was the Japanese 
 for "how do you do," I go to bed with a 
 degree less of self conceit. 
 
 I was awakened to-day by some one sing- 
 ing " Sweet Bye and Bye " under my win- 
 dow. A drunken American sailor stood 
 there, happy as only a drunken sailor can 
 be, and expressing his happiness by the 
 song, while he at the same time evinced his 
 high appreciation of the natives by trying to 
 kiss every woman that passed. All went 
 well with him until there came along as 
 hideous an old hag as it has been my fortune 
 to see. She checked his enthusiasm for a 
 moment, but with a motion which expressed 
 determination to be perfectly impartial in 
 
Land of the Morning. 211 
 
 his distribution of favors, he threw his arms 
 around her neck and gave her a most re- 
 sounding smack. All the while there stood 
 looking on, one o{ those funny little police- 
 men, utterly helpless to protect the women 
 from insult or save himself from the gross 
 indignity of having his cap seized and put 
 on again wrong side in front, or being made 
 to take a sudden promenade around the ad- 
 joining lamp post. In the end a rickshaw 
 boy gets both into his concern and runs 
 away with them probably to one of the many 
 bath houses here — most curious contrivances 
 all of them — a large room, in the corner 
 of which is a sunken tank for hot water ; 
 while on either side are shelves for cloth- 
 ing, one for men and one for women, and 
 here, at any time of the day or night, you 
 may see from twenty to fifty of all ages and 
 sexes bathing together. Yesterday one of 
 the largest establishments was invaded by 
 a band of drunken Russian soldiers who 
 
212 Eastwai'd to the 
 
 proceeded to drive the occupants into the 
 street, in which they were entirely successful, 
 much to the horror of my Httle nephew who 
 happened to be passing in a rickshaw. 
 Surely modesty is a matter of cultivation, 
 or, perhaps, of certain religions. In India 
 and all Moslem lands to expose the face is 
 most immodest, while here it is only of later 
 years that men could be forced to wear any 
 sort of raiment, and even now in the pro- 
 vinces they discard it utterly. These bath 
 houses are found in the center of all the 
 tea houses in which you sleep, and you soon 
 learn to think nothing of all this — soon 
 learn to apply the proud motto of England 
 to customs new and strange to you. 
 
Land of the Morning. 2 1 3 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 NIKKO. 
 
 " Through the stillness swam the song of summer birds." 
 
 LEAVING the tea-house in a drizzHng 
 rain, we start on our thirty-six mile 
 ride in rickshaws to sacred Nikko. 
 Two men are required for each vehicle on 
 such a journey. Moving onward at a rapid 
 trot, they bring us to the town in time for a 
 two o'clock dinner. The way lies over a 
 broad avenue bordered by double rows of 
 magnificent cryptomeia, a tree of the ever- 
 green species, very like the cypress seen in 
 Turkish graveyards at Constantinople, but 
 here grown to an immense height. As we 
 speed away the low lying country is all 
 ablossom with the glories of spring ; vast 
 yellow blankets formed by the flower of the 
 
214 Eastward to the 
 
 ** rafe," are thrown broadcast on a ground 
 of delicate green, dancing waters are bor- 
 dered with the flaming azalia, while the dis- 
 tant mountains rise against the delicate blue 
 of a rain-washed sky. Now the sunshine 
 bathes all in a golden glory, only to be 
 chased away by the mists and falling rain. 
 Pausing for an hour about noon, the rick- 
 shaw boys produce from somewhere about 
 their clothes boxes of luncheon. I have 
 often watched to see where they were car- 
 ried, but am even now none the wiser for my 
 pains, but as the boxes are of wood we do 
 not hesitate to devour their contents, wash- 
 ing it down with tea which, as prepared by 
 the natives, tastes like straw-soaked water, 
 possessing none of the rose-leaf flavor of 
 that of Ceylon. Soon we are again enroute, 
 and in due time reach the holy city of an- 
 cient "Nippon," the Westminster Abbey, so 
 to speak, where for centuries her Shoguns 
 have slept the sleep of the just. Long 
 
Land of the Mo^niing. 215 
 
 flights of stone steps, old and moss-grown, 
 lead up to strange looking shrines in bronze — 
 fantastic, lantern-shaped structures, standing 
 in small inclosures, the approach to which is 
 guarded by dozens of other lanterns like- 
 wise of bronze, and placed there in memory 
 of the lesser dignitaries, the whole watched 
 over by the murmuring pine trees, whose 
 voices have the sound of the distant ocean. 
 Here and there stands a Shinto Temple 
 richly carved and gilded, but the buildings 
 are but few. The royal dead sleep verily in 
 the "first temples" of the great Creator. 
 Here also you see the sacred dancing girls, 
 each on a small, open stage, before which 
 projects a platform for the reception of the 
 offerings. Deposit there a piece of money, 
 be it ever so small, and she will arise and 
 dance for a few moments in a weird, phantom- 
 like way, all the while chanting monoto- 
 nously in a faint, far-off voice, now louder, 
 now softer, until finally it mingles with the 
 
2i6 Eastivard to the 
 
 music of the forest, and then dies away into 
 silence. Moss-grown dragons, in stone and 
 bronze, throw jets of water high in air, 
 flowers bloom in great masses, while the 
 melody of song-birds once more greets our 
 ear — how sweet the sound after all these 
 months in the hot lands where the birds are 
 silent. ' 
 
 Suddenly the great bronze gong/rom the 
 adjoining temple warns all that the hour has 
 passed, the sun has set, and that we must 
 leave the dead to their solitude. 
 
La7id of the Morning. 2 1 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 A JAPANESE In his native dress fits 
 into the landscape, but Europeanize 
 him and he is most supremely ridic- 
 ulous, especially does this seem to be the 
 case at sacred " Nikko." After traveling 
 all day through these grand avenues of 
 trees, and, coming at last to this holy of 
 holies, this shrine and these tombs, to meet 
 a native in a tall hat upsets you completely, 
 so you return to your hotel and take out 
 your ill humor trying to beat down the prices 
 of the vendors of monkey skins and other 
 furs. You ride sixty miles in a rickshaw to 
 see Nikko, and though you would not miss 
 it for worlds, nothing could induce you to 
 go again, for a tall person will be very much 
 cramped in these rickshaws, and if the 
 weather is wet you are strapped in by a 
 
2i8 Eastward to the 
 
 leathern apron, and now watch out, for this 
 is what " rickshaw boy " has been waiting 
 for — here is his opportunity for vengeance 
 on account of the many times when you 
 have forgotten that he is a man not a horse. 
 Suddenly he will drop the shafts and dart 
 away, while you as suddenly turn over back- 
 wards until you stand on your head. You 
 won't get hurt as the hood will protect you, 
 and it is useless to kick as he will only 
 laugh. Its done and over, and you are once 
 more right side up before you fully realize 
 what has happened, while with words and 
 gestures he offers the most humble apologies 
 but his twinkling eyes give him away. This 
 
 happened to Mrs. S on our return 
 
 from Nikko. Her husband — bursting his 
 bonds — belabored the boy until the blood 
 flowed, and on arrival at the junction we 
 were all taken before the local powers who 
 soon dismissed the case with a sharp repri- 
 mand to the culprit, and we returned to 
 Yokohama. 
 
Land of the Mor7img. 219 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 JAPAN is fast loosing its Oriental char- 
 acteristics, fast becoming civilized, fast 
 losing all beauty save such as God 
 gave and man can not take away. I sup- 
 pose it is better, I suppose the people are 
 happier, but they neither look it nor do they 
 act it. My own guide, a most excellent 
 fellow by the name of Mitsue, was wretchedly 
 unhappy in his European clothes, and 
 seemed another being in his picturesque 
 native dress which I insisted upon his wear- 
 ing. 
 
 Yokohama is largely European, Tokio is 
 new and rather uninteresting, but Kiotio is 
 the Japan of fifty years ago. See it as I 
 saw it buried in its mantle of cherry blos- 
 soms, full of light and laughter, quaint 
 customs and curious peoples, and you will 
 
2 20 Eastward to the 
 
 never forget it. Here men and women are 
 as brilliant in dress as is the peacock ; the 
 babies in their funny Japanese robes and 
 gilded doll babies strapped on their backs, 
 make you roar with laughter, while they re- 
 gard you with wide-eyed solemnity seemingly 
 wondering what ails you. The first thing 
 the people do in the morning is to take down 
 the entire front of their houses and the whole 
 life therein goes on in full view of the passer 
 by. Entering a tea house you notice first 
 the bath house in the middle, open to the air 
 of heaven, open also to the gaze of any 
 occupant of the house. Around it runs 
 what appears to be a porch laid in large 
 squares of matting. As bedtime approaches 
 screens of matting are run in between each 
 square and in front, thus transforming them 
 into sleeping rooms, into which are placed 
 tw^o mattresses, the one to sleep on, the other 
 as a cover. If you are English you get a 
 feather pillow, if '' Jap " a wooded one, and 
 
Land of the Morning. 221 
 
 if the fleas let you alone all goes well, un- 
 less the next square happens to be occupied 
 by a family of Japs (probably some fifteen 
 or more). Japs are like chickens roosting in 
 a tree, if one wakes, the rest do likewise, and 
 cackle and crow indefinitely. Its apt to 
 happen most any time, its sure to happen 
 frequently, and is not altogether conducive 
 to sleep. Remonstrances are useless, they 
 won't know what you mean. *I tried it ; gave 
 the partition between us a fling and de- 
 livered quite an oration. They listened in 
 silence, and then came in my room en masse 
 to see what was the matter. I sat down in 
 despair and waited. They evidently thought 
 I had lost something, for they turned and 
 shook every thing there, and retiring spent 
 the rest of the night talking about it. Sleep 
 was out of the question, nor was my tem- 
 per improved by having my room suddenly 
 taken to pieces in the morning, forcing me 
 to make my toilet in full view of the town. 
 
222 Eastward to the 
 
 Had I been a Jap I should have attracted 
 no attention ; as it was, the process was 
 watched with the deepest interest by some 
 fifty people, who every now and then would 
 exchange remarks of the " I told you so " 
 order. 
 
Street Scene in Kiotio. 
 
Land of the Morning. 223 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 YOSHAWARRA. 
 
 (the qLARTER OF THE LOST.) 
 
 SO it is pronounced, at least, though I 
 never have been at all certain as to 
 the correct mode of spelling that 
 name, and it is a quarter in Yokohama 
 about which one feels a certain amount of 
 delicacy in making inquiries. I never could 
 find the place in the daytime, nor do the 
 rickshaw boys appear to know any thing 
 about it before dark. But enter a "rick" 
 after dark and whisper the name in the 
 boy's ear, and he will run away with you 
 through so many strange streets and 
 squares, over such unknown rivers and 
 creeks, that you are almost tempted to call 
 the police, until you remember that you can 
 jump out without any chance of danger to 
 
2 24 Eastward to the 
 
 yourself; also, that the rickshaw boy is only 
 about half your size. So you hold on 
 tightly to the frail vehicle as it rocks from 
 ♦ side to side with the rapid motion. It 
 seems abominable, when you first enter 
 Japan, to have human beings take the place 
 of horses, but they appear to have such a 
 good time over it that you soon lose all 
 feeling in the matter. They will haul you 
 all day long for seven cents an hour and 
 laugh the entire time, so don't waste any 
 tears on the "rickshaw boy." He will have 
 a better time in life than you will and live 
 longer. Now with an extra rush he plunges 
 into a dark archway, beyond which seems to 
 be a portion of the city en fete. Outside all 
 was darkness ; here every thing is blazing 
 with light. The houses on each side look 
 like scenes from a theater, except that every 
 house presents the same scene. The entire 
 front is of glass, while inside, facing you, 
 each with a lighted brazier before her, sit 
 
Land of the Morning. 225 
 
 ten, fifteen, or twenty girls in a row (accord- 
 ing to the size of the house), all dressed in 
 the most fantastic Japanese costumes — just 
 such as we see on the fans. The lights 
 shining on the other side of the glass of 
 course prevent their seeing you, but, together 
 with all the other thousands who throng 
 the streets, you have a most excellent view 
 of each and all of them. It is the quarter 
 of the lost, or so we should call them at 
 home, though they are not considered as 
 such here, and many a Jap comes here to se- 
 lect his wife. Young girls are brought here 
 by their parents and regularly sold to the 
 keepers of these houses, and no disgrace is 
 considered to attach to the life they have 
 led. House after house, square after 
 square, present the same picture — rows of 
 girls on the inside, crowds of Jap men on 
 the outside, and not one face in all the 
 thousands possessing to our Western eyes 
 the slightest individuality or expression. 
 15 
 
2 26 Eastward to the 
 
 Never a smile on any of them, rarely a 
 sound to be heard, until you rub your eyes 
 in a half belief that you are dreaming, that 
 they must be the fantastic figures from some 
 great magic lantern. I was told that many 
 of these girls never leave the house after 
 they enter it, and none leave Yoshawarra 
 without the consent of the police. They 
 did not seem human to me, and I remember, 
 during a dance that was gotten up for us at 
 Kiotio, three or four perched on my knees, 
 shoulders, in fact all over me. I could have 
 walked around and not felt the weight in 
 the least. They reminded me much of two 
 of my mother's parrots that used to travel 
 all day on my shoulders. Each carried a 
 little guitar, and it was very funny to see 
 them dance in their brilliant dresses, of the 
 richest crepe, which clung closely to the 
 figure until the floor was reached, when 
 they spread out a foot or more, as much in 
 front and at the sides as behind. With 
 
Land of tJie Morniiig. 227 
 
 sashes of heavy silk and hair full of gold 
 pins and combs, they strutted and attudi- 
 nized while they tinkled the guitar, sang 
 love songs in squeeky little voices, and cast 
 sweet glances over in our direction, until we 
 were convulsed with laughter. 
 
2 28 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 KAMAKURA. 
 
 WE have been out all day some thirty 
 miles from Yokohama, under the 
 shadow of the great idol of 
 *' Kamakura," probably the largest image in 
 the world. It is made of bronze, and is 
 cast in a most comfortable sitting position, a 
 very necessary posture for a stay of so 
 many centuries. Entering through an arch- 
 way in its back, we climbed all over and 
 through it. The inside, with its galleries 
 and ladders, looked much like the pictures 
 of Mammoth Cave — on a small scale, of 
 course, though as idols go, there is nothing 
 small here, the head alone being as large as 
 a good sized room. There is nothing awe 
 striking or majestic, as is the case with the 
 Sphinx. The face is heavy and the eyes 
 
La7id of the Morning. 229 
 
 possess none of that far-away, thoughtful 
 expression so marked in the wizard of 
 Egypt, but rather an over-fed, sleepy look, 
 as though there was nothing in heaven of 
 an exciting nature — nothing on earth worth 
 living for save a good dinner. Still, it has 
 seen strange sights in its time, one of them 
 being a tidal wave that carried large ships 
 miles inward from the neighboring ocean 
 that we hear moaning in the distance. The 
 attendant priests — Buddhists, of course — 
 earn a wretched existence by taking photo- 
 graphs. They would not accept alms, and 
 we therefore allowed them to take our 
 pictures. Perched on different portions of 
 the god, we presented a most absurd sight. 
 Still, our best friends would not know us, 
 and the poor priests seemed very grateful 
 for the small amount paid them. We left 
 the presence of the god, hoping that he 
 also would justify the means because of the 
 end. I doubt it, as it is ever hard to 
 
230 Eastward to the 
 
 forgive having been made ridiculous, and a 
 large sized pair of rubbers (on the feet of a 
 small boy) sticking out near one's nose is 
 apt to produce that effect. The " white 
 sands of Homoko " spread eastward and 
 westward here, and away to the south 
 glitters the slumbering ocean, peaceful and 
 quiet just now, but the typhoons that sweep 
 over these coasts are something awful in 
 their suddenness and fury. The gnarled 
 and twisted pine trees all around us bear 
 witness thereto, giving the landscape an 
 aspect gloomy and dark, almost like one of 
 Dore's illustrations of the Inferno. But 
 raising your eyes above the foreground, you 
 see, as you see from nearly all points of the 
 land, the cone of Fujiama, beautiful enough 
 to be a portion of heaven. It was not far 
 from here that the ''City of Tokio " was 
 wrecked. She ran aground on a calm 
 night, so softly and with so little jar that 
 those on board were scarce conscious of the 
 
La7id of the Momiiig. 231 
 
 fact. The boughs of the trees swept her 
 deck, and to them the passengers and crew 
 owed their safety later on. No danger 
 . seemed possible, even though a typhoon 
 soon sprung up ; but with the changing of 
 the wind to directly an opposite quarter, as 
 always occurs in such storms, the water was 
 piled over the vessel in such immense 
 masses and so suddenly that those on board 
 saved themselves by means of the branches 
 of the trees. The ship vanished utterly in 
 almost less time than it takes to tell of it. 
 There are no signs of storm now, and the 
 moon rides grandly above as we return to 
 Yokohama, where we are treated to an 
 earthquake. We do not greatly mind it, as 
 the hotel has grooved rafters, and we are 
 assured that it will " stand no end of a 
 shake" — in fact, has stood many. Still it is 
 not conducive to sleep, this habit the furni- 
 ture has of changing places, and when your 
 washstand advances majestically upon you, 
 
232 Eastwai^d to the 
 
 I would advise you, if still in bed, to get up, 
 for at the moment of contact you will surely 
 get w^et. I happened to be in the bar the 
 other day when a quake came on, and I 
 noticed that in this case the old topers 
 present immediately moved to that quarter 
 of the room toward w^hich they thought the 
 counter would advance — so each man saved 
 a bottle. Quiet being restored, the bar- 
 tender proceeded to take stock, and did not 
 hesitate to make very pointed remarks 
 concerning the number of missing bottles 
 ** destroyed by the quake, of course," and 
 the fact that the floor showed no evidence 
 of such destruction. A diversion was 
 created just here by the entrance of some 
 traveling showmen and four or five mon- 
 keys, all of whom were ere long in a most 
 gloriously intoxicated condition. 
 
 Soon father monkey proceeded to exer- 
 cise that undisputed right of all men, for, 
 seizing a stick in one paw, he chased his 
 
La7id of the Morning. 233 
 
 ''auld woman" over chairs and under tables 
 until finally he ran her down in a corner, 
 and the raps fell thick and hard until, 
 though convulsed with laughter, we were 
 obliged to interfere. She seemed strongly 
 to resent the interference, and growlingly 
 departed, holding her red and black dress 
 up around her neck, while her bonnet hung 
 down her back by its strings. Nothing 
 of the "Romeo and Juliette" about that 
 couple — they had settled down to the hard- 
 ships of practical life. 
 
2 34 Eastwa7^d io the 
 
 
 S(j 
 
 "In the year of 737, A. D., Emperor SHOMU, being a 
 bigot, caused numerous monasteries to be erected over Japan; 
 this monastery, the KOTOKUIN, at KAMAKURA is one 
 of these monasteries, built bj him in such an early period. 
 In this ancient monastery the enormous bronze image is 
 standing and is noted for its grandeur. This image, which 
 was built by Ono Goroj'emon, a famous bronze caster, under 
 the order of SHOGUN MINAMOTO no YORITOMO 
 in the year of 1250, is the image of Buddha, a chief deity in 
 the Buddhism, and, though injured much by huge waves in 
 1495, is now still in an excellent preservation in this monas- 
 tery. It is about 50 feet in height, 98 feet in waist-circum- 
 ference; the length of the face is 8 and a half feet, and of the 
 eye is 4 feet, and of the ear is 6 feet, 6^ inches, and of the 
 nose is 3 feet, %% inches; the breadth of the mouth is 3 feet, 
 lYz inches; the diameter of the lap is 36 feet; the circum- 
 ference of the thumb is over 3 feet. 
 
 Written by the Koiokuin^ 
 at Kamakura 
 
 in the Province of Sagami.^' 
 
Kamakura Daibutsu. 
 
Land of the Morning. 1 1 
 
 ^jd 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 WHY is it that the very best Japan- 
 ese shops in our country are never 
 attractive ? One enters them 
 with no pleasure, never cares to purchase 
 when once inside, but here if you enter 
 one you enter all and are certain to go 
 home bankrupt ; so I should advise you to 
 buy your steamer ticket and pay your hotel 
 bill before you commence to shop. Every 
 place is full of things which delight you and 
 you want them all. " Deakins " on the 
 Bund at Yokohama is a museum in itself, 
 one that you will return to again and again 
 and not see half it contains. You will not 
 find any thing cheap there. They are very 
 beautiful, but very costly. He is the Tif- 
 fany of Japan. 
 
 The Japanese are marvelous carvers, 
 
236 Eastward to the 
 
 especially in ivory, far superior to the 
 Chinese, as in fact they are in every thing 
 else, and they are a pleasant people to deal 
 with, making you feel that you are welcome, 
 that they will be happy to see you again. 
 In China you are constantly impressed with 
 the idea that to cut your head off would give 
 the most sincere pleasure to each and every 
 man in the kingdom. The work of the 
 Chinese is marvelous as to execution, and is 
 always most elaborate, but that of the 
 Japanese is most artistic, and they possess 
 such perfect confidence in their own ability. 
 While in Kiotio I purchased a screen very 
 beautifully embroidered on one side, but of 
 plain satin on the other, which they pro- 
 posed to paint in various designs. Even 
 before I left the shop it was placed face 
 downward on the matting, while the artist 
 went to work and without lines or guide of 
 any sort, never using a false color or making 
 a mistake of any description. I looked on 
 
La7id of the Moi^ning. 237 
 
 in wonder, knowing that one blunder would 
 ruin the entire panel, as of course it could 
 not be corrected on that delicate maze 
 colored satin, but no blunder was made, and 
 the whole was a thing of beauty when com- 
 pleted. It is almost impossible to find an- 
 cient Satsuma, which is worth its weight in 
 gold, but the marts are full of Cloisonne of 
 the most beautiful description. Of their 
 exquisite inlaid work in ivory, gold and gold 
 lacquer, there is much to tempt one, but the 
 merchants are honest enough to advise you 
 not to buy it as it will not stand our climate, 
 being in a short while utterly destroyed 
 
 thereby. Dr. W , of Philadelphia, paid 
 
 some $r 0,000, for three pieces of gold lac- 
 quer, but they must be kept under glass 
 cases with a cup of water or a wet sponge in 
 each, or destruction w^ill soon commence. 
 Still there is much to delight the eye that 
 will stand our changes and go far toward 
 the making of "the house beautiful." 
 
2^S Eastwa7^d to the 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 THE feast of the Cherry Blossoms 
 comes during the month of April, 
 and at the same time the camelias 
 are in all their glory. There are never any 
 cherries in Japan, the tree being cultivated 
 entirely for its blossoms, which are double 
 and triple until when they are in perfection, 
 the whole land is one vast blanket of deli- 
 cipus pink. Then the Empress generally 
 holds her garden party. (This is her flower 
 as the chrysanthemum is that of the Em- 
 peror, his feast coming in the fall.) Then 
 the people turn out — if they are ever in — in 
 all their glory. Progress and dark clothes 
 are forgotten, each is as brilliant as a bird of 
 paradise, and all day and night the streets 
 are thronged, long avenues of cherry trees 
 stretch away in all directions, reflecting their 
 
Land of the Mornijtg. 239 
 
 color in the water, while the wind blows 
 clouds of the dainty blossoms every-where, 
 until every bush seems a cherry tree, until 
 you walk on a carpet of delicate pink, and 
 even the sky takes on a mantle of rose 
 color. This is the great feast of the spring, 
 but there are others, and even as we gaze 
 the azalias are forth in all their glory, and 
 the country seems aflame. As we leave the 
 pier the land has taken on a covering of 
 complimentary mourning — let us hope on 
 account of our departure, in the form of the 
 delicate wistaria, which covers houses and 
 temples, hillsides and mountains,, in a robe 
 of almost royal purple. 
 
240 Eastward to the 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 " A moan is the music of the sea." 
 
 THE waters dance and sparkle around 
 the little boat that is bearing us out 
 to the S. S. " China," riding at an- 
 chor in this beautiful harbor of Yokohama. 
 Though not so grand as Hong Kong, yet 
 it's like Japan. I can say nothing stronger. 
 Here are always the ships of nearly every 
 other nation, even our own holds its own. I 
 did not appreciate the full charm of ancient 
 " Nipon " until I had left it far behind me, 
 until the thought came to me that perhaps I 
 should never see it again, then the longing to 
 return was almost unbearable. I was told 
 it would be so, but I could not believe it. 
 India satisfies the mind, Japan the senses, 
 the one is a study, the other an idyll. You 
 will never forget the grandeur of the former, 
 
A Very Perff.ct Description of the Remainder 
 OF THE Tour. 
 
Land of tJie Momiiiig. 241 
 
 but, In years to come, I fancy 'twill be the 
 days when " Round the point of Tomioko 
 came the jobbling of the sea," that will re- 
 turn to you oftenest, remain with you long- 
 est, casting forever over fair Japan that 
 " light which never was on land or sea." 
 
 '' Oh ! rest je, brother mariners ; 
 We will not wander more." 
 
 Finis.