During the afternoon the native cook and his assistant had made good use of their time. How, where, and when they managed it I never could make out; but as soon as the boat was safely moored, and when we returned from our vain attempt to invade the sanctity of the jungle, we found the table laid, and really a capital dinner—soup, fish, two entrées, a roast, the inevitable curry, some pastry, fruits in profusion—the two last courses being the only things in which our chef had not had a finger in. His coffee, even, was passable; but I determined in future to attend to that myself, having some conceit as to my capabilities in that particular line. We had a long day, therefore did not linger—a few cigars, some tough yarns, and one by one dropped off. Beds had been extemporised on cane settees in an adjoining compartment of our floating house.
At an early hour—indeed, at dawn, which is by far the pleasantest part of the day all through India—we got out of bed and made for the bow of the boat, bent on a plunge in the waters of the Kaluganga. Luckily, we had our sleeping suits on, so that the stripping business gave us time to look round. It is quite as well we did. At about six or eight yards off, forming quite a semi-circle, were a number of black spots, which on closer scrutiny proved to be the muzzles of so many alligators! Needless to say that we changed our plans. A tub, if smaller, was decidedly safer. There being only two on board, those who had to wait their turn whiled away the time in “peppering” at the alligators—a harmless sport on both sides, and a great waste of powder. These brutes had a skin so hard and slippery that they only gave a snort and a sneeze when hit, and disappeared.
After our tubbing, and whilst discussing a cup of coffee of MY making, a screaming row overhead drew us out once more to the bow of the floating dwelling, to witness one of the strangest sights imaginable. The roof of our cabin was literally covered with bunches of bananas, baskets of fruit, and other delicacies, which had evidently attracted the attention of myriads of monkeys of all sizes and colour, which swarm in the jungle of Ceylon. The cunning imps had formed a living chain by hanging to one another from the nearest tree-top overhanging the river. The last one was dexterously grabbing our fruit, which, being passed from one to the other, would soon have found its way from our larder to that of these infernal chimpanzees. A rush was made for rifles and revolvers, but with our usual luck, when we were ready to fire the monkeys were gone. We did fire a volley at the grinning brutes, who seemed to enjoy the fun; but, like all preceding game, left us with unstained hands. Indeed, from their grins, it strikes me very forcibly that they turned the tables by making “game” of us.
Sailing was now out of the question. Our men put out their long sweeps, the steersman, perched on the roof of the deck-house, keeping the helm well down. We proceeded on our course at a fair pace, keeping as close in-shore as the length of the oars would permit.
Towards tiffin-time we got well in amongst the mountainous part of the river, where the scenery became grander—in some parts huge piles of hills covered with vegetation, with here and there some capricious, overhanging rocky projections. In the distance, wherever the stream ran straight for the Peak, we had glimpses of that great mountain, which takes its name from our first father—it being firmly believed that Ceylon was THE Garden of Eden, where our first parents learned horticulture, and bartered civilisation for a taste of a fruit which we, their unworthy descendants, can purchase at four a penny; whilst, strange to say, it does not grow on this most prolific island!
Ceylon is certainly an earthly paradise, where serpents are quite abundant enough to scare an unprotected female, and the climate mild enough to warrant the use of vine leaves in preference to heavier clothing.
Of course, we had ample leisure to discuss these various pre-historic points as we lazily glided over the smooth surface of the noble river.
Native settlements as on the previous day, were located when and where the banks were flat enough to admit of easy cultivation. The Singalese do not believe in hard work; and, as I explained before, where he can grow a few cocoa-nut trees, he has only need to provide for the time that elapses between the planting of the nut and the first crop. After that, he and his surroundings are amply provided for.
On the third day we reached our destination. Like a great many other alluvial diggings, these mines are devoid of interest. Some straggling huts, a poor, ill-fed lot of natives and Moormen—very few of the latter, who are merely there to pick up, as cheap as they can, any fairly good stone found. The best part of this excursion is the journey on the river, and more particularly that going up, when everything has the cachet of novelty.
Had we known the topography of the island better, we might have gone back to Colombo by train. However, in this as in many other instances, experience had to be bought. We did not pay much for this—indeed, our return to Kalatura was a dream. Making a start at dusk, we reached our hotel the next day before tiffin. We slept nearly all the way back. What with the current and the sweeps, we travelled at a rare pace.