VII.
A WATER PARTY IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN.
ONE more word on Ceylon, and I will leave it for the present; but in concluding I cannot well omit reference to our trip to the sapphire mines, up the Kaluganga river.
The trip was an exceedingly pleasant and interesting one; and as it is easily accomplished, I would strongly urge on any one having a few days to spare at Colombo not to fail to go there. It is time and money well spent.
In chatting under the verandah of the Grand Oriental Hotel with the dealers in precious stones, I was informed that the sapphires, moon-stones, cat’s eyes, and other gems of value sold in Ceylon, are found in drifts and sunk mines laying at the foot of Adam’s Peak, a mountain 7353 feet high, which is visible from the deck of the steamer when one approaches Ceylon from almost any point of the compass. I was further told that a noble stream—the Kaluganga—taking its source from the great mountain ranges, runs through and fertilises a portion of the island, until it empties its surplus waters into the ocean at a small village called Kalatura, on the Galle road.
I was quite aware that the bulk of the sapphires, moon-stones, cat’s eyes, and other gems sold under the verandah and hawked on board the mail-boats came in “bulk” from the various glass-works in Birmingham; but it is nevertheless a fact that the mines exist, and are most profitably worked by both Singalese and other miners. My old digging recollections being limited to gold, silver, tin, or copper, and being told that the trip to the precious stone mines was a pleasant one, I decided on completing my mining education, and accordingly set myself to beat up recruits for an excursion. We had at the time a few nice people boarding at the British India Hotel, where I usually put up, owing to the fact that it belongs to my friend, Mr. Ephraim, who kept the first hotel I put up at when in Point de Galle in 1878. I broached the idea, called in Ephraim for advice, and before we retired for the night had arranged matters. Ephraim undertook to get traps for the next morning, a guide, and a letter of introduction to a brother boniface who keeps the Kalatura Rest-house or hotel.
Accordingly, after a hasty but hearty breakfast, and armed with a small portable bundle of “necessaries,” we started to catch the early train. Even in Ceylon the electric wire has crushed all romance, but in exchange has brought with its levelling, crushing effects, a certain amount of practical results. In this instance, when the train stopped at the Kalatura station we found a vehicle and an attendant awaiting our pleasure, and the welcome news that breakfast was ready at the Bungalow. This meal, considering the hour, we could not possibly accept as a breakfast, inasmuch as it would have been an insult to the one which we had done ample justice to before leaving Colombo, barely three hours before. We therefore made a compromise with our conscience, and made straight for this Kalatura “tiffin,” which, to our great delight, was preluded by a glorious feast of the most delicious, fresh rock oysters—the regular “claw” shell—which, in the good old days, before the waters of Port Jackson had been disturbed by so many steamers, were known all over Australia as “Sydney rock.” For “auld lang syne” we did ample justice to these. They acted as an aperative, and gave us a keen appetite for the really excellent repast our worthy host had, on Mr. Ephraim’s recommendation and telegram, prepared for us. The “prawn curry” I shall never forget. It was a triumph of Eastern culinary art. We were evidently favoured guests. Mine host had himself cooked the luncheon, and even condescended to wait at table!—to enjoy, no doubt, the well-deserved praise we unanimously gave him: first, for his display of artistic, gastronomic talent; and also for the great honour he conferred on us by waiting in propria persona on such humble travellers.
It seems that all our wishes had been already anticipated, and that between Ephraim and our guide, Kalatura was aware of our intention to sail or pull up the great river as far as Adam’s Peak. Having lit a cigar after a passable cup of coffee—(Bye-the-bye, it is a strange anomaly that in Ceylon, where the very best coffee is grown, it is quite as difficult to get a decent cup of that beverage as it is to buy, even at an enormous price, a sapphire without a flaw)—we strolled down to the banks of the river, and at the foot of an old Dutch fort met our Singalese guide. Wading through a motley group of boatmen and a crowd of coolies busy loading and unloading boats and drays, we were led to a large padé boat which had been chartered for our trip by the hotel-keeper. The padé boat, as I have already mentioned, is a large barge, upon the centre of which a wooden—or rather straw—hut has been built as a sort of deck-house. This having been thoroughly swept and cleaned, the floor covered with clean white matting, had been supplied from the hotel with a table, some reclining and other chairs, cooking utensils, and even the necessary napery, towels, &c.; a couple of cooks, and a well-filled larder, in which we found also a hamper containing beer, claret, and whisky in sufficient quantity to carry us over many days.
Orders were given to cast off. Favoured by a fresh sea breeze, sails were hoisted, and in a very few moments, in spite of the strong current, we had lost sight of the Kalatura Bridge, and, indeed, all signs of civilisation. In order to avoid the full force of the stream we had to steer close in shore. This gave us full opportunity to admire the wonderful tropical vegetation of this favoured island, as well as occasionally to have a “blaze” at birds, squirrels, monkeys, or other quaint denizens of the thick jungle, which grows with astounding vigour right down to the very water’s edge. This noble river winds and turns like most mountain streams and narrows at places so that its course often runs under a canopy of luxuriant foliage, whilst at others it spreads over a wide area of flat land, giving it a lake-like appearance. In such spots small clusters of huts and patches of cultivated ground break the monotony and solitude of the voyage. We stopped at some of these native hamlets to study Singalese life and purchase fruit, milk, and eggs, all of which we found everywhere to be good, abundant, and remarkably cheap. From the apparent curiosity of the natives, it is evident that they are seldom visited by excursionists. The women and children in particular evinced great pleasure at seeing our party, more particularly if we distributed sweets and nick-nacks amongst them, when they accompanied us on board.
This first day’s excursion was one of endless enjoyment, every turn in the river opening up some fresh and charming scenery. The breeze, as we advanced farther inland, gradually failed us; still, before dusk, we had gone over many miles, which, considering the cumbersome shape of our boat, the size of the sails, and the rapidity of the stream, was very fair travelling. We anchored a short distance from the shore with a stern-line made fast to a bamboo clump. During the short twilight some of our party tried to penetrate through the jungle for sport, but soon returned, having found it an impossibility to make headway—the vegetation being simply prodigious, the trees and under-scrub actually matted together by creepers of all sizes and form, so as to render all progress an utter impossibility.