Bertha's Visit to Her Uncle in England; vol. 2 [of 3]

by Mrs. Marcet

When the pearl-fishing in Condatchy Bay is going on, which is, he says, a most lively, amusing scene, the Indians of the continent attend in great numbers, and being occasionally employed, they find ample opportunity to exercise their dexterity in sleight of hand, and every sort of roguery. A set of these Indians contrived an ingenious method of cheating the boat-owner who employed them to open his oysters. While one of them made a preconcerted signal, whenever any pearls worth stealing were found, another at the same moment pretended to conceal about him a few small ones, and while he thus attracted the attention of the superintendents and occasioned some bustle, the real thief was able to secrete his prize.

This contrivance was discovered by one of the poor Ceylonese who attended the washing of the pearls; he made it known to the master of the boat, and then, having reason to dread the vengeance of the thieves, he immediately fled. For some days he proceeded without shelter, till arriving at the hut of a farmer, who lived near a cinnamon plantation belonging to government, he supplicated him for relief and a lodging. This man was very poor; he had a large family, and could with difficulty shelter the fugitive for one night; besides, suspecting that the story was not quite true, and that it was the thief instead of the informer who told it, he was not willing to let him continue there, lest it should bring himself under suspicion. The Ceylonese was hurt at a doubt which he so ill deserved, and left the farmer early next morning, wandering he knew not whither, till he found himself, just when the sun was at its height, in a tangled and extensive forest; there he sat down to rest under a banyan-tree, whose self-rooted branches, entwined with creepers, had become nearly impenetrable;—and there he determined to remain, as long as the forest supplied him with fruit and wild honey. Fear had taken such possession of him, that he was afraid to venture back to the more inhabited parts of the country; and yet he was here in equal dread of the Bedahs, a race who live in the forests and mountains, and who refuse to associate with the more civilized Ceylonese.

It is supposed, Colonel Travers told us, that the Bedahs are descended from the original inhabitants; and that, having fled from the Ceylonese invaders, they have retained, with their ancient customs, their hatred and fear of the invaders. They live by hunting, they sleep in the trees, placing thorns and bushes on the ground round them to give warning of approaching wild beasts; and on every alarm a Bedah climbs the highest branches with the expertness of a monkey.

There are some tribes of the Bedahs in the southern part of the island who are rather less wild, and who even carry on a little traffic with the Ceylonese; but they are so afraid of being made prisoners, that when they want to procure cloth, knives, iron, or any thing of that kind, they approach the town where it is to be had, at night, and deposit in a conspicuous place a fair quantity of goods, such as ivory, or honey, along with a talipot leaf, on which they contrive to express what they want in exchange. On the next night they return, and generally find what they had demanded; for if their requests are neglected they seldom fail to revenge themselves.

Fruits of various kinds are so abundant in Ceylon, that for some time our poor fugitive was supplied with tolerable sustenance; and he often refreshed himself with the pure limpid water found in the Bandura, a most curious plant, whose leaves terminate in a kind of tube which contains nearly half a pint of water covered by a little valve. At last, anxiety brought on a low fever, his strength failed, and he lay under the banyan expecting to die of hunger. Early one morning he was roused from a sort of half stupor, by hearing the low growl of a dog; and on opening his eyes, he saw a man stooping to place something near him; he tried to speak—but the person had vanished. He had perceived, however, by his tall light figure and his copper complexion, that the stranger was a Bedah; and this would have been a very terrific idea, had he not smiled as he went away, and pointed to a little basket that he had left. Plantains and refreshing fruits were again within his reach; and the poor starving man ate thankfully, and felt as if he should live. Every morning he found a fresh supply in the same place; and as his strength began to return, the Bedah, besides the basket of fruit, added some more nutritious food. This was dried meat preserved in honey, to keep it from the air; and tied up in a particular substance which grows on the betel tree, at the root of each leaf; it somewhat resembles a tough skin, and is of so strong a texture, that it retains water. He wished to thank the Bedah, and frequently beckoned to him to stay; but the good natured savage shook his head, and disappeared.

When he felt himself quite recovered, and his strength restored, he resolved to procure employment, if possible, in the cinnamon groves. The grand harvest, which lasts from April to August, had begun, and he hoped that in some of the various processes of cutting, scraping, or barking, which are parcelled out among several classes of peelers, or choliahs, he might find work.

On his way from the forest, in passing by the same house where he had been permitted to lodge one night, he perceived that the farmer’s cattle had broken through the inclosure and made their way to the cinnamon trees, on which they were then feasting. This tree is such a favourite with cattle that they break down every fence to get to it; and most of the natives who live in the neighbourhood of those plantations are deterred from having cows, because all that are found trespassing there are forfeited.—This poor creature knew that, by giving information to the head officer, he might receive a reward which would relieve him from distress; but he had a more generous mind. He hastened to the farmer, and assisted him to drive back the cows and repair the fence, before they were discovered. The farmer was anxious to shew his gratitude, and he felt convinced that he had wronged him by his former suspicion. By his recommendation to the superintendent of the cinnamon groves, our wandering Ceylonese obtained employment, and in a short time felt himself so happy, that he had reason to reflect with satisfaction on his honesty and generosity.

As soon as he was able to save a little money, he purchased some few articles which he thought might be acceptable to the friendly Bedah; and by setting out in the night he arrived early in the morning at the forest, and deposited his offering on the very spot where, for so many successive days, the food had been placed which saved his life. In vain he delayed there in hopes of seeing the Bedah, till he was obliged to return to his work; but as he heard the well known growl at no great distance, he knew that he was observed, and that his present would be found. Colonel T. says, that the dogs of the Bedahs are remarkable for their sagacity in tracing game and in distinguishing the scent of different animals. On the approach of a stranger, or of any dangerous beast, they first put their master on his guard, and then help to defend him; and so invaluable are they to this tribe, that when their daughters marry, these dogs form their portion.

Our industrious Ceylonese had built a hut during his residence at the cinnamon plantation; it was formed from a single cocoa nut tree; the stem furnished posts; the branches supplied rafters, and the leaves formed a covering sufficient to repel both sun and rain. The Ceylonese huts are fastened entirely by withes of ratan, or by coya rope, which is made of the fibrous threads of the husk of the cocoa nut. They are sometimes strengthened with slender pieces of wood or bamboo, and daubed over with clay; and round the walls are benches to sit or to sleep on.

Colonel Travers took the opportunity of telling us, that the cinnamon twigs are first scraped with a peculiar kind of knife, convex at one side, and concave opposite; the bark is then slit with the point, and the convex side of the knife is used to loosen it, till it can be taken off entire; it appears like a tube in that state, and the pieces are laid one within another, and spread to dry. When quite dried they are tied up in bundles of about thirty pounds weight, and are carried by the choliahs to the cinnamon store-houses at Columbo.