8th.—The mud islands are under water at high tide. At this moment we are passing through a very narrow passage; on each side the thick, low, impenetrable jungle comes down to the water’s edge. Not a tree of any size to be seen; not a vessel, not an animal. During the whole of this day I have only seen two paddy birds, and one deer. The thick jungle is full of tigers; so much so, that the Hindoos on board are not allowed to go on shore to cook their food on that account. Going along with the tide in our favour, the swiftness of the steamer is terrific; the velocity with which we pass the banks makes me giddy. We have just passed a spot on which an oar is stuck up on end. The captain of the flat pointed it out to me as a sign that a native had been carried off at that spot by a tiger. It is the custom to leave an oar to point out the spot, or to stick up a bamboo with a flag attached to it—as in Catholic countries a cross is erected on the spot where a murder has been committed.
“Kaloo-rayŭ is a form of Shivŭ: the image is that of a yellow man sitting on a tiger, holding in his right hand an arrow, and in his left a bow. A few of the lower orders set up clay images of this god, in straw houses, and worship them at pleasure. The wood-cutters in the eastern, western, and southern forests of Bengal, in order to obtain protection from wild beasts, adopt a peculiar mode of worshipping this idol. The head boatman raises elevations of earth, three or four inches high, and about three feet square, upon which he places balls of clay, painted red; and, amongst other ceremonies, offers rice, flowers, fruits, and the water of the Ganges carried from the river Hoogly, keeping a fast: the god then directs him in a dream where to cut wood free from danger. There is no authority for this worship in the shastrŭs. Dŭkshina-rayŭ is another god, worshipped in the same manner, and by the same class of persons[18].”
9th.—Last night two boats full of wood-cutters passed us; they said several of their men had been carried off by tigers. We have only overtaken four boats all this time in the sunderbands. During the hot weather people dare not come through this place; fevers are caught from the malaria: at the present time of the year it is safe enough. There are no inhabitants in these parts, the people finding it impossible to live here. We have a very pleasant party on board, most of whom are going to Allahabad. The vessel is a good one; the accommodation good, the food also. It is very expensive, but as it saves one a dāk trip in this hot weather, or a two or three months’ voyage in a country vessel, it is more agreeable. The heat in these vile sunderbands is very great; during the day, quite oppressive; when we enter the Ganges we shall find it cooler. As we were emerging from the sunderbands and nearing the river, the banks presented a scene which must resemble the back settlements in America. Before this time we had scarcely met with a good-sized tree. Here the trees partook of the nature of forest: some people were burning the forest, and had made a settlement. Barley was growing in small portions, and there were several dwarf cows. The scene was peculiar; a little bank of mud was raised to prevent the overflow of the tide; the stumps of the burned and blackened trees remained standing, with the exception of where they had been rooted out, and a paddy field formed. Places for look out erected on high poles were numerous, and thatched over: there a man could sit and watch all night, lest a tiger should make his appearance. There were a few miserable huts for the men, no women were to be seen; nothing could be more primitive and more wretched than these young settlements in the sunderbands. On the morning of the 10th we quitted this vile place, and anchored at Culna to take in a fresh supply of coals.
12th.—We arrived at Commercolly; anchored close to the bank, to take in more coal: it was very oppressive, but the evening was beautiful; the sky studded with stars, and the new moon just visible. I sat on deck enjoying the coolness: we anchored very late, not until it was impossible to see the proper course to steer on the river. We had at last gained the Ganges.
13th.—Passed a great number of boats that were out fishing, and ran over one of them containing four men, three were picked up immediately, the fourth passed under the steamer, from her bows to her stern; he was taken up exhausted, but uninjured. Some of the passengers are playing at chess, others reading novels; some asleep, some pacing the deck under the awning, all striving to find something wherewith to amuse themselves.
14th.—We arrived off Gaur; I looked with pleasure on its woods in the distance, recalled to mind the pleasant days I had passed there, and thought of the well-oiled dākait who had called on me as his grandmother to save him. It was just at this place that coming down the river we turned to the right, and went a short cut down the Bhaugruttī, instead of pursuing the course of the Ganges. A prize this day fell to my share in a lottery, in Calcutta, of a silver vase enamelled in gold; but more of this lottery hereafter.
16th.—I got up early and went on shore at Rājmahal, roamed in the bamboo jungle and amongst the ruins, until the ringing of the bell on board the steamer announced the coals were on board, and the vessel ready to start. Of all the trees in India, perhaps the bāns, bamboo, is the most useful, as well as the most graceful. What can be more picturesque, more beautiful than a clump of bamboos? From Calcutta to Allahabad, the common route by the river is eight hundred miles; round by the sunderbands the distance is nearly eleven hundred.
18th.—Passed the Janghiera rock, and anchored at Monghir: bought lāthīs, that is, solid bamboos, walking-sticks, sixty for the rupee. The male bamboo is solid, the female hollow. I bought them for the use of the beaters when M. mon mari goes out shooting.
20th.—The strong westerly wind sent the fine sand from the banks in clouds all over the vessel, filling the eyes and ears most unpleasantly.
25th.—Anchored at Benares: the steamer started again at 8 A.M.; the view of the ghāts as we passed was beautiful; the number of persons bathing, their diversified and brilliantly coloured dresses, rendered the scene one of great interest and beauty.