1832. Feb. 2nd.—I went to the Burā Mela, the great annual fair on the sands of the Ganges, and purchased bows and arrows, some curious Indian ornaments, and a few fine pearls. On the sands were a number of devotees, of whom the most holy person had made a vow, that for fourteen years he would spend every night up to his neck in the Ganges; nine years he has kept his vow: at sunset he enters the river, is taken out at sunrise, rubbed into warmth, and placed by a fire; he was sitting, when I saw him, by a great log of burning wood; is apparently about thirty years of age, very fat and jovial, and does not appear to suffer in the slightest degree from his penance. Another religious mendicant lies all day on his back on the ground, his face encrusted with the mud of the Ganges. The Hindoos throw flowers over them, and feed them, paying the holy men divine honours.
The fair this year is thinly attended, the people not amounting to a lākh, in consequence of the very heavy rain which fell throughout December last, and prevented many of those from attending who had to come from a very great distance.
25th.—I went with my husband into tents near Alumchund, for the sake of shooting; and used to accompany him on an elephant, or on my little black horse, to mark the game. Quail were in abundance, and particularly fine; common grey partridge, plentiful; a few black partridges, most beautiful birds; and some hares. Instead of dogs, we took twenty men with us, armed with long bamboos, to beat up the game; as for dogs in such high plantations, they are useless and invisible.
March 14th.—During the cold weather we collect wild ducks, and keep them for the hot winds. We have just finished a new brick house for the birds, consisting of a sleeping apartment, with a tank in front, in which they have a fine supply of running water; the whole surrounded by lattice work, covered with an immense climber, the gāo pāt, or elephant creeper, of which the large velvet-like leaves shade the birds from prying eyes[90]. Unfortunately, by some mischance or other, a jackal got into the place at night, and killed fifty out of one hundred: very unlucky, as the season for collecting them is nearly over, and we require wild ducks and teal during the hot winds, when beef and mutton are disagreeable, even to see on table; fowls, turkeys, rabbits, wild fowl, game, and fish, are the only things to tempt one’s appetite in the grilling season, when curries and anchovies are in requisition.
Speaking of wild ducks; we used to send out men into the jungle to catch them, which was performed in a singular manner. The man, when he got near water on which the wild fowl were floating, would wade into the stream up to his neck with a kedgeree pot upon his head; beneath this mask of pottery the birds would allow him to approach them without taking alarm, they being used to the sight of these thiliyas (earthen pots), which are constantly to be seen floating down the stream, thrown away by the natives. When close to a bird, the man puts up his hand, catches its legs, pulls it instantly under water, and fastens it to his girdle. Having caught a few, he quits the river, and secures them in a basket. The wild ducks are in beautiful condition, and very fine when first brought in. They pine and waste away in confinement for the first fortnight; then resigning themselves with all due philosophy to their fate, they devour barley with great glee, and swim about in the tank, eating principally at night. They must be surrounded by mats to keep them quiet and composed: in a short time they again become fat, and are most excellent. As soon as the rains commence, the wild ducks lose all their flavour; it is then better to open the door and let the survivors escape. They are good for nothing if kept for the next season. The teal are as good, if not superior to the wild ducks.
Quail shooting is now to be enjoyed; my husband and his companion bring home forty brace and upwards daily. The quail take shelter in the khets (fields, plantations) of jwār, millet, (andropogon sorghum,) and bājrā (panicum spicatum), from which it is difficult to dislodge them, and in which dogs are useless. The birds are driven out by some twenty-five or forty beaters, natives, armed with long latīs (male bamboos), with which they beat the high stems of the plants, and drive them out. Quail are sold twenty-five per rupee; if kept in cages, in darkness, and fed with kungnee-seed (panicum Italicum), they are excellent in the hot winds: when first caught, they are in high condition.
We hunt jackals in the grounds at Papamhow; and sometimes have a canter after a wolf in the ravines. The gentlemen have a pack of hounds: ten English imported dogs were added to the pack last year. It is disheartening to see those fine dogs die daily. The price now asked in Calcutta for English hounds is considered too high, even by us Indians, being fifty guineas a couple! Of the ten bought last year, two only are alive. Perhaps accidents have occurred; from ignorance at the time, that castor-oil, when not cold-drawn, is certain death to dogs. The natives have a great objection to using castor-oil medicinally when the seeds have been heated before putting them into the mill.
March 19th.—The arrival of Colonel Gardner pleased us greatly: his boats were anchored in the Jumna, under our bank. He came down from Lucnow to visit the quarries, in order to build a bridge for the King of Oude; and after having spent nine days with us, he departed for Benares. He is a great favourite at present, both with the king and the minister at Lucnow; and if he is allowed to retain the jagīr he now holds, upon the same terms for a few years, he will be a rich man. He deserves it all; we found him the same kind, mild, gentlemanly, polished, entertaining companion I have before described him. He was looking ill; but now that his fatigues are over, and he is once more at rest, he will soon recover. I requested him to inform me how native ladies amuse themselves within a zenāna, and he gave me the following account:—
“They have ponies to ride upon within the four walls of the zenāna grounds. Archery is a favourite amusement; my son, James Gardner, who is a very fine marksman, was taught by a woman.
“A silver swing is the great object of ambition; and it is the fashion to swing in the rains, when it is thought charming to come in dripping wet. The swings are hung between two high posts in the garden.