I have had a ramble on the sands, and have found a shell, the shape of the most curious of the fossils we used to find in the cliffs at Christ Church in Hampshire. I have only found three small ones, and must look for more; they are rarely on the sands. Whilst we were waiting for the cotton boats to get off, I sketched them. The boat called an ulāk is beautiful, like a bird upon the waters—graceful and airy—with bamboos in all directions, which add to the picturesque effect. The natives say there is a soul in every vessel: the spirit of an ulāk must be a fairy, flitting and fanciful. An ulāk will spread her high and graceful sails; her slender mast, a bamboo, will bend to the wind; and she will be out of sight almost ere you have gazed upon her—hidden from you by some steep cliff, crowned with a peepul-tree overshadowing some old Hindoo temple; below may be a ghāt, jutting into the river, with a sandbank before it, on which the crocodiles are basking and the wild ducks feeding, while the sentinel bird keeps a sharp look out, and gives warning to the flock if danger approach them. How many boats I have counted of divers shapes and sizes! there is the pinnace, the pinnace budjerow, the budjerow, the bauleah,—these are all pleasure-boats; the kutcher or kutchuā, the kuttree, the ghurdowl, the ulāk, the pulwar, the burra patailā, the surree or soorree, the ferry-boat, and the dinghee; the beautiful vessels used by the Nawab during the festivals at Moorshedabad, and the snake-boats—nor must I forget the boats hollowed out of a single tree, with their shapeless sterns and bows. One of their methods of painting and ornamenting a ulāk is simple and original. They paint the vessel black; and then, dipping one hand into white paint, lay the palm flat on the vessel; this they repeat, until they have produced a border of white outspread hands. A golden eye is placed at the head, to enable the spirit of the vessel to see her way through the waters.
I walked to a small village, where there was a plantation of castor-oil plants, and of cotton plants. The people were working the finest well I have seen, with the exception of the Persian wheel wells: this employed ten bullocks, and the water came up in five very large skins, which are used as buckets.
25th.—Was there ever any thing so provoking! we are fast in the centre of a sandbank, cutting through it on a chain-cable; it will take the whole day to get through it,—perhaps a day or two. There is a fine favourable wind, the first we have had for ages, and we should be at Agra by sunset, could we cross this vile sandbank. I go on deck every now and then to see the progress: we advance about one yard in an hour! then we leave off work, the stream loosens the sand, and the work begins again, until another yard is accomplished, and then we wait for the stream. It is sadly tiresome work: however, the wind is a warm one, and we have only to contend with the stream and the sandbank.
From 7 A.M. to 3 P.M. we worked away on the bank; at last we cut through into deep water. I was delighted to see a chaprāsī from Agra, with a packet of letters for me. How little did the dear ones in England imagine their letters would find me all alone in my beautiful pinnace, fast stuck in a sandbank in the middle of the Jumna!
26th.—This morning from the cliff the white marble dome of the Tāj could just be discerned, and we made salām to it with great pleasure. The pinnace anchored below Kutoobpoor, unable to proceed in consequence of another great sandbank, a quarter of a mile broad. The sarang says, “To attempt to cut through this on a chain-cable would draw every bolt and nail out of her frame.” The Ghāt Mānjhī is of the same opinion. I have been out in the dinghee sounding, and, fearless as I am, I dare not attempt cutting through such a bank; it would injure the vessel. There are two more sandbanks besides this ahead. It is folly to injure the pinnace, and I have made up my mind to quit her. Is it not provoking, only sixteen miles from Agra, and to be detained here? I have written to the Hon. H. D⸺ to request him to send down my horses; they must have arrived long ago, and a palanquin: his answer, I must await with due patience. What a pity I am not a shot! I saw three deer yesterday whilst I was amusing myself in an original fashion, digging porcupines out of their holes, or rather trying to do so, for the dogs found the holes; but the men could not get the animals out of them. Picked up a chilamchī full of river-shells. Before us are thirteen large boats aground on this sandbank. In the evening I took a long walk to see the state of another shallow ahead, which they say is worse than the one we are off. Six of the great cotton boats have cut through the sand; perhaps they will deepen the channel, and we shall be able to pass on to-morrow. There are peacocks in the fields: what a pity my husband is not here, or that I am not a shot!
27th.—Not being satisfied to quit the pinnace without having inspected the river myself, I went up to Bissowna in the patelī this morning, and found it would be utter folly to think of taking the Seagull further; besides which, it is impossible. I might upset her, but to get her across a bank half a mile in length is out of the question. The water in the deepest parts is only as high as a man’s knee, and she requires it up to the hip-bone. It is very provoking—I am tired of this vile jungle—nothing to look at but the vessels aground; besides which, the noise is eternal, night and day, from the shouts of the men trying to force their boats off the sand into deeper water.
28th.—My riding horses having arrived, I quitted the pinnace, desiring the sarang to return to Dharu-ke-Nuggeria, and await further orders.
I sent off the cook-boat and attendants to Agra, and taking my little pet terrier in my arms cantered off on the black horse to meet the palanquin a friend had sent for me. Late at night I arrived at Agra, found a tent that had been pitched for me within the enclosure of the Tāj, in front of the Kālūn Darwāza or great gateway, and congratulated myself on having at length accomplished the pilgrimage in a voyage up the Jumna of fifty-one days! Over-exertion brought on illness, and severe pains in my head laid me up for several days.