On the fifth morning after this we were to reach Hyderabad: it was estimated as seven coss distant, so we did not start so soon as usual; we wished to reach it when the day was well advanced, in order to attract as little attention as possible, for our numbers were considerable. We therefore divided into three parties, one under my father, one under myself, and the other under Surfuraz Khan, a friend of my father whom we had met on the road, and who with his men had been admitted into our company; and we agreed to meet again in the karwan, which was the usual resort of all travellers, and where we were told we should find accommodation in the serais which were used by them. Mine was the first division to move, and my father said he should remain with the baggage, and bring it leisurely along, as he should have to pay the usual duties upon the property we had secured, at the various toll-houses. Accordingly at full daylight we set out. It was a lovely morning, cold, yet not so cold as in our own country, where the frost is often seen on the ground, and the grass feels crisp under the foot of the traveller until the sun rises; still a good shawl was a welcome addition to my usual clothing.
Wreaths of mist spread themselves over some hills to the left of the road, and concealed from our view an immense tank which lay at their foot; while, as a gentle breeze arose, the mists were set in motion, revealing one by one piles of the most stupendous rocks I had ever seen, and which appeared as though they had been heaped on each other by human agency; I had been struck by these extraordinary rocks on our first entering Telingana, and remarked them now to Bhudrinath; he gave a ready solution to my conjectures as to their origin, "You perhaps have heard of one of our sacred books called the Mahabharut," said he; "in it are related the wars of the gods. The origin of one of them was the forcible carrying off of Sita, the wife of Ram. She was taken to the island of Lanka (Ceylon), and there detained by the rakshas or evil spirits of the place, assisted by the king with powerful armies: they defied Ram, and he was in utter despair at the loss of his beautiful wife, nor could he find any trace of whither she had been carried. You know that Hunooman, our monkey-god, was a wise and astonishing being; in the monkeys of the present day his form only is perpetuated; the intelligence is gone, and cunning alone is left to them. But it is also a sad fact that, like them, mankind has also degenerated, and we are no more like the beings of those days than the present monkeys are like Hunooman. Well, as I was saying, Ram in his perplexity was visited by Hunooman, who pitying his state proposed to go in search of the lost fair one, and accordingly departed. Long did he wander, and at last discovered her in Lanka, in a state of as great distress as he had left her lord in. Quickly he returned with the intelligence, and an army was assembled for the conquest of the island. But a difficulty arose when it reached the end of the land; before them certainly lay Lanka, but a wide and rough sea ran between them, the roaring waves of which appalled the stoutest hearts—nor did even the glorious Ram himself escape the general fear. Boats were not to be procured, and if they had, what would have been their use to transport an army which consisted of millions of god-like beings, each of whom was ten cubits in height! Ram gave himself up to despair; but Hunooman at one bound clearing the channel, quickly returned with assurances that a bridge could soon be constructed, and that he and his companions would labour night and day till it was completed.
"Quick as thought, legions of monkeys departed to the Himalayas. Huge mountains and rocks were torn from their foundations, and transported by relays of these indefatigable beings to the shores of the ocean. One by one they were dropped into it from above, and the splashing of these huge masses is described as terrific, the water ascending to the heavens and extinguishing the stars! At last the bridge was completed, the vast armies marched over it, the country was conquered, and the beauteous Sita restored to the arms of her devoted lord. Now these rocks are part of those brought from the Himalayas, and have remained piled upon each other just as they were set down by the monkeys; for this country being half-way, it was here that the relay was established, and when the bridge was completed, these remained, not being required. To prove the truth of what I have said, (and may Bhugwan grant that no one doubt it!) I must tell you that remains of the bridge are visible to this day. Many pilgrims with whom I have conversed, who had been to Ramisseram, declared that they had gone in boats along the side of the bridge, and traced it by the points of rocks appearing above the water, almost in a direct line from one land to the other, with here and there a small island where the waves have not been able to make an impression: that further, heaps of rocks similar to these are met with in various parts between here and Ramisseram, which no doubt were not required; and you will remark that in no other part of the country north of this do any similar ones appear. There cannot therefore be a stronger proof of the truth of our ancient religion than these hardened witnesses, which will last to the end of the world, to the confusion of all unbelievers and sceptics."
"Mashalla!" said I; "it is a wonderful story, and true enough, for I have heard of the bridge myself. We Moslims have it, that Baba Adam, who was placed by Alla in the paradise of Serendeeb, which is Lanka, got tired one day of his confinement to so small an island; and seeing the main-land at a distance, made the bridge by throwing mountains into the sea, each at seven coss distance, to get there. When it was completed, he easily stepped from one to the other, and so gained the land; but this action displeased Alla, who soon afterwards ejected him from the paradise, and man has been a wanderer ever since."
"Yes," said Bhudrinath: "but is not my story the most probable, especially when you see all these rocks piled up in so extraordinary a manner as if in loads? Why, if a man wanted to carry a heap of stones, he would pile them up in the same way; and see, these are in separate heaps, just as they were laid down, some large, some small, according no doubt to the strength of the parties who bore them."
"Alla ke Qoodrut," exclaimed I,—"it is the power of God. Mashalla! they were great monkeys; it is well we have none of them nowadays, or they would pelt us out of the land."
[CHAPTER XIV.]
We passed the village of Ulwal, its white pagoda peeping from among groves of tamarind and mango trees, and its large tank now glistening in the rays of the sun; and pursuing our way, we saw, on passing a ridge of rocks, the camp of the army at the far-famed Hoossain Sagor, or, as it is more often called, Secunderabad. The tents of the English force glittered in the bright sun, and behind them lay a vast sheet of blue water. We had heard much of this lake from many persons on our journey, and as we passed it a strong breeze had arisen, and the surface was curled into a thousand waves, whose white crests as they broke sparkled like diamonds, and threw their spray into our faces as they dashed against the stonework of the embankment. We stood a long time gazing upon the beautiful prospect, so new to us all, and wondering whether the sea, of which we had heard so much, could be anything like what was before us. I have since then, Sahib, twice seen the sea; I need not attempt to describe it, for you have sailed over it; but when I saw it first, methought I could have fallen down and worshiped it, it appeared so illimitable, its edge touching as it were the heavens, and spread out into an expanse which the utmost stretch of my imagination could not compass,—a fit type, I thought, of the God of all people, whom every one thinks on, while the hoarse roar of the waves as they rolled on, mountain after mountain, and broke in angry fury against the shore, seemed to be a voice of Omnipotence which could not fail to awaken emotions of awe and dread in the most callous and unobservant!