CHAPTER XXVII.
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CHAP. XXVII.
POINT DE GALLE. -- ADEN. -- BAB-EL-MANDEB. -- SUEZ. -- CROSSING THE DESERT.
WE sailed again from Madras on the following day, with an accession of about twenty passengers. I should like to have stayed for a couple of months to pay a visit to the Nilgherries, but as I am homeward-bound, after an absence of nearly eight years, I cannot afford to halt by the way.
These large steamers are the heights of sea-going luxury, and we have all the comforts of light winds, smooth water, a large deck to promenade on, with library, chess, &c. for amusement, and the almost positive certainty of being each day some two hundred miles nearer our destination.
We have to-day, Oct. 16th, been running along the coast of Ceylon in view of a perfect chaos of picturesque hills and mountains of all shapes and sizes.
Anchored in the harbour of Galle on the morning of the 17th. It is rather a pretty place as seen from the sea, with its houses buried in masses of foliage.
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POINT DE GALLE.
and the shore fringed with an ever-varying line of surf. There is not much to be seen on landing. The houses, gardens, and general appearance of the place is very like the plain at Penang, even to the immense abundance of cocoa-nut trees, which line the roads and shelter the houses. The climate, too, is very similar to that of the Straits settlements, and by no means oppressively warm. The constant sea-breezes keep the air cool and pleasant, and make our old Indians expand their chests and open their nostrils to enjoy it. We took a drive into the country and saw the established lions, to wit, the cinnamon garden, a Bhuddist temple, and the fish-market; and after seeing all these and the town, we came to the conclusion that Galle is rather a pretty place, but exceedingly dull, and returned to our vessel not dissatisfied at the prospect of getting away on the morrow.
The "Achilles" came in on the following morning, bringing the China mail, which we received, together with a reinforcement of about a dozen passengers, bringing up our number to about sixty, which is quite as many as there is comfortable accommodation for.
I can scarcely imagine how passengers manage to exist when there are 150 of them on board at
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once, as is sometimes the case, and that too in the hot season.
Anchored at Aden at daylight in the morning, after twelve days of uninterruptedly fine weather. This place is somewhat changed since I was last here, and there are more houses and far more fortifications. It still, however, looks the same fire-scathed rock, without a blade of grass or the slightest symptoms of vegetation on the black and precipitous sides of its craggy hills.
The cantonment is in a valley, or rather plain, surrounded by black precipitous hills; it has no water, no vegetation, nothing but a bare, stony, arid surface, that reflects back the sun's rays with a blinding glare. There, too, is the native town, with a motley assemblage of Arabs, Parsees, Negroes, Jews, and Sepoys. A number of camels and donkeys, with their loads of wood and water, help to fill up the scene, and add to its originality.
The fortifications are on an immense scale, making this place another Gibraltar in strength, and exhibiting in many instances a recklessness of expense that is one of the commonest features of English and Indian colonial management.
Owing to the heat of the sun and the reflected glare from the black rocks, the European inhabitants are
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ADEN.
close prisoners from sunrise to sunset; and even when they can get out, there are no pleasant rides or drives, no society or amusement; so that a more dreary, soul-sickening place for a man to be sent to, I cannot imagine.
We passed through the celebrated straits of Bab-el-mandeb on Nov. 1st., and saw, as may always be seen, immense shoals of seer-fish, who appeared to have a hard time of it, for when under water they were pursued on all sides by sharks and porpoises, and when they got to the surface were immediately pounced upon by hungry gulls, of which thousands were always on the look out.
Nov. 3rd. -- Steaming along rapidly, but the heat is excessive. The thermometer 96 deg. in the shade. We shall, in the course of another ten days, see it almost down to freezing point--a matter of some 60 deg. difference, and rather trying to the nerves.
Nov. 5th. -- Last night we saw the sun set, gilding the venerable summits of Sinai and Horeb: this morning we passed the spot where tradition says that Moses crossed the Red Sea, and all around us were mountains, streams, and springs, with historical and legendary names, the least of them venerable for antiquity, even though often of fabulous origin.
This afternoon we landed at Suez, which is won-
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derfully changed within the last five years, and among the numerous buildings, hotels, quays, and public offices which have sprung up since I was last there, I found it difficult to recognise any portion of the old mud-built city, or the dilapidated caravanserai, where Bonaparte once sojourned, and which was more recently the head-quarters of all passing travellers.
The first convoy of carriages started within an hour after we landed, and with much less of the kicking and plunging among the horses than there used to be in the olden time.
As we entered the desert, we met long trains of camels making their way towards the town to get in before the shutting of the gates at nightfall. Occasionally an Arab passed on his long-stepping dromedary, while our four-in-hand stepped out at a good round trot of about nine miles an hour.
Since I last came this road, (some five years ago,) many improvements have been made; and it would now be so hard to lose one's way in crossing the desert, as on one of our own turnpike roads.
Telegraphic stations have been erected on every piece of rising ground between Suez and Cairo, and the roads have been pretty well cleared of the large stones and rocks that, in former times, were almost enough to dislocate one's bones.
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CROSSING THE DESERT.
Three huge meals were provided for us between eight o'clock in the evening and the same hour in the morning, at which turkies, Irish stew, and hams were the principal comestibles. Some ten years ago, how the moustache of a true believer would have curled with scorn at the hog-eating Giaours, seen in the act of feeding on the unclean beast! Now they cut up slices of the unholy food with the blandest smile, and a look of benevolent satisfaction at the unbeliever's appetite, only wondering that the dogs don't eat more as there is nothing to pay; nor do they forget to ask for sixpence backshish for the waiter.
