Part 22

The stairs were not difficult but rather continuous, as we found before we reached the top. In the middle of the last flight was a narrow path leading to the snakes' bathing-place; this is formed out of solid rock and measures about one hundred and thirty feet in length. At the back the five-headed cobra has been carved in high relief; it is seven feet high and is represented as rising from the water. The sanctity of the mountain-top in the eyes of Buddhists is said to be due to the fact that on the summit alighted the royal missionary, Mahahindo, when he came from India, 307 B.C.; he there met the King, who was out hunting, and having listened to a discourse, the King became an ardent Buddhist, a fact which later resulted in the conversion of forty thousand of his followers.

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CEYLON: The Ambustala dagoba now marks the spot of the meeting. It is built of stone, the terrace around it consisting of numerous columns. There are ruined statues, columns, and carved capitals scattered about, showing that formerly this was the basis for a group of buildings. There are also oblong cuttings in the rock, supposed to be the foundation of cave dwellings never completed. One more flight of stairs leads up to the gallery, surrounding the Mahaseya dagoba. The view from this highest gallery is magnificent; the great plain gave a wide vista, while beyond was an outline of the distant mountain range; nearer we saw great masses of green, through which shone the three great dagobas of Anuradhapura.

Before leaving the summit we held a conversation with the aged priest through an interpreter, and, retracing our steps, drove to the rest house for a ten-o'clock breakfast made up of coffee and rolls; then, returning to our temporary home in Anuradhapura, we pronounced the morning's excursion a success.

In the afternoon we took a drive with a guide through the inner circle, when there occurred the incident with the priest previously related.

At 6 A.M. the following day, we returned to Colombo, and again enjoyed the tropical vegetation, the views of mountain and valley, of rice and tea plantations, and the glimpse of native life which the short stay at stations afforded. Time thus passed in the mountains and country of Ceylon is indeed fraught with delight. We had an object lesson in the habits and customs of the so-called hill-country, Kandy furnishing many marked examples; there was particularly the large two-wheeled cart with oxen as propelling power. We were also interested in the Rodiyas, living in the outskirts, a people oppressed on account of a curse pronounced by a king many years ago, one of the conditions being the prohibition of clothes above the waist, both for men and women. The latter are noted for their beauty, and excel as singers and dancers, but they suffer under the stigma of immodesty for the reason given above.

Three restful days followed; the hotel wore a homelike air, and the time was full of content and quiet enjoyment. Ceylon fascinated me from the first, and after the trip to the mountains and a more perfect realization of the natural advantages of the island, the impression deepened.

The native people also struck me as being cheerful, but with more strength of character than the Burmese, and possessing a certain kind of dignity that was pleasing. The bazars too were found unusually interesting on a closer inspection, and offered many new and novel articles.

While there were carriage drives, this was our first introduction to the jinrikishas, and we found them most convenient and a novelty; only there was an uncomfortable feeling that the jinrikisha man in Ceylon was too slight for his occupation.

The street scenes presented almost as cosmopolitan an aspect as those at Rangoon, and with quite as varied a mixture of nationality.

There was a notable carriage drive of eight miles to Mt. Lavinia, a seaside resort with only a hotel perched on a hill, while below on the sandy beach were many fishing-boats. Here we whiled away an hour, and had afternoon tea.

On Saturday evening, February 8th, we bade adieu to Ceylon, taking passage on the steamer Delhi of the P. & O. line, which was to be our home until the 14th. We were assigned pleasant rooms, and the general environment was agreeable. There was little of incident on the trip until we landed at Penang, Malay peninsula, on the morning of the 13th. We made a special tour, and noted many beautiful homes with surrounding grounds and a general air of thrift. We were once more reminded of Great Britain's supremacy in the Far East; it is surprising, the vast amount of colonizing, as well as civilizing, she has accomplished.

In Penang, Chinamen were everywhere seen and Chinese business houses predominated. The Malay was, however, to be found as he should be on the Malay peninsula. At first it was difficult for us to realize that we had left the East, Penang being the portal of the Far East, of which Singapore is the gateway, her harbor being a famous shipping point.

At 11 A.M. we were sailing on for that port, which is regarded as the Paris of the Far East by the wealthy nabobs who frequent the city. The Chinese coolie who officiated as jinrikisha man was a sturdier specimen of humanity than the one seen at Colombo, and we could enjoy a ride without the conscientious scruples experienced at the former place.

Arriving at Singapore, we found we must postpone our visit there, as the steamer Rembrandt, of the Dutch line, was soon to leave for Java.

It was late in the afternoon when we sailed from Singapore; we caught some glimpses of the shore and noted the finest group of the traveller's palm we had as yet seen; also some pretty bungalow homes close to the water's edge, with tiny gardens enclosing palms and flowers.

There was scarcely a ripple to be detected, and the elements were hushed; the brilliant rays of the setting sun shed a halo over the peaceful landscape.

We imagined there must be some premonition of the event which was to take place in the night, namely, the passing of the equatorial line; and we tried to keep our senses alert in order not to miss the subtle significance of so unusual an event, but in the morning there was the humiliating reflection that sleep had "won the day"! At noon we began to realize that we were at Summer's door and would soon learn the true quality of the tropical heat, of which we had had as yet only a prelude.

The Java Sea was as placid as the Strait of Malacca had been, and there was little to break the monotony save a passing steamer, a glimpse of Sumatra's shore, and an occasional island. Another night passed, and in the morning we were at the harbor of Tandjong Priok, which is nine miles from the city of Batavia. We arrived there in a pouring rain; we were now in a land where rain is prevalent, this being the wet monsoon season.

After a very slight custom-house inspection was completed, we left by train for Batavia, one of the capitals of Java. We were at once impressed with the variety of the landscape and the tropical richness of the trees and shrubs. The Dutch aspect of the architecture and the canals were evidence of the influence of the fatherland, but the natives seemed to be a mixture of Javanese and Malays, while the Chinese, as elsewhere, were to be seen in large numbers.

The canals are the principal feature of the old city of Batavia; but along the streets one detects also many business houses and banks, some of the largest being Chinese.

The Hôtel des Indes is located in the new city called Werengen. On entering the enclosure which surrounds the hotel, a large banyan tree was the central object directly in front of the hotel proper, situated nearly in the centre of a square.

On three sides of the square are arranged a continuous series of one-story suite of rooms opening in front on a wide veranda, shut off from the adjacent suite by screens of stained glass and shaded by glass and awnings. This was the salon of the suite, furnished with rugs, chairs, centre table, and writing-desk. Here all waking hours are supposed to be passed. The largest homes of the residents are similarly arranged; such an exterior forms the large drawing-room, often beautifully furnished. It all seemed new and novel to us, but the climax was reached when we saw even matrons on exhibition in these show boxes, dressed in loose jackets, sarongs drawn closely around them, and their bare feet simply encased in sandals; also stout Dutchmen in pajamas, and sometimes this costume was worn in the dining-room with the utmost unconcern, showing how customs vary in different countries.

The charming bungalow homes in the new city, surrounded by spacious grounds, pleased us, as did the business houses; some fronting on canals which were spanned by artistic bridges. The Museum of the Batavian Society of Arts and Sciences was rich in exhibits of Sumatra's and Borneo's products and handwork, as well as in Javanese antiquities and in articles of silver and gold workmanship, which were novel in design and skilfully executed. The building is classic in its lines and very pleasing.

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February 18th: An early train, 6 A.M., for Buitenzorg gave us the freshness of the morning for travel, and the two hours thus consumed were filled with exclamations of delight over the beauty of the scenery. Soon after our arrival at the Hotel Belle Vue, we drove to the Botanical Gardens, where, like Peradeniya in Ceylon, a revelation awaited us. Masses of pink lotus, white lilies, Victoria Regia, and other varieties of the lily family formed great patches of color on the miniature ponds that were their setting. Orchids in greenhouses and on trees put forth their graceful flowers; palms of every description, candle trees with myriads of almost realistic candles which were suspended from the branches, sausage trees with veritable bolognas hanging from the limbs, bread-fruit trees, lovely vistas of the graceful banana, and groups of other foliage or shrubs surrounded us in abundance.

The Governor's spacious residence looks out upon the park on one side, and a pretty summer-house overlooking a valley gave a picturesque touch to the place. The ride around the city showed lovely homes set in varied greens, and a general air of thrift and prosperity prevailed.

The hotel is charmingly located and has pleasant features. It fronts on a garden, with a wide gallery overlooking the city. A square court in the rear is encircled by a series of rooms, with the front gallery looking on the court, and the back gallery facing a valley (the house is built on a side hill) through which runs a river with a tiny village on its border; while beyond a wide vista of cocoanut palms rises a range of mountains, Mt. Salak being the distinctive feature. Both galleries are well furnished, and here guests assemble when in the hotel. The view from the rear gallery I have never seen surpassed in breadth, except perhaps by that in Granada, when from Miss Laird's balcony (near the Alhambra) we looked down upon the city, with the mountains beyond.