Arrival of an elephant.
Our Mihmandar waited on us at the village of Cheechawutnee with an enormous elephant, and said that he had been instructed by the Maharaja to place it at our disposal, as he feared the native houda did not suit our taste: he was right in his conjectures, and we appreciated the civility. The animal was richly caparisoned, and bore a large chair, ornamented with silver and enamel work, lined with red velvet. He was accompanied by six of the Maharaja’s own Orderlies, in dresses of scarlet faced with yellow, which had a good appearance. The Seiks, in all the various military costumes that they have adopted, never lay aside the small turban of their tribe; which, I must say, becomes them.
It was a source of no small amusement to watch the love of gossip among the natives of our suite. We had a reporter sent purposely from the Court, who daily despatched an account of our employment and rides: the news-writer of Mooltan followed us from that city, and every day transmitted a Gazette; I had also letters from the news-writer at Lahore, giving me a précis of local news, and asking for a morceau in return. Our Dewan corresponded with the Chevaliers Ventura and Allard; and I was somewhat surprized to receive answers to many of my enquiries regarding the country from the former gentleman, to whom their subject had been communicated without my knowledge. Nothing, however, could exceed the politeness of all the people towards us; and the ready and happy manner they acceded to our wishes made us careful to wish for any thing. As may be supposed, there were no bounds to their flattery; and we were daily informed that we were the “second Alexander,” the “Sikunder sanee,” for having achieved so dangerous a voyage as the Indus. The polite natives of this quarter view with dread the barbarity and customs of Sindees and Beloochees.
Ruins of Harapa.
About fifty miles eastward of Toolumba, I passed inland for four miles to examine the ruins of an ancient city, called Harapa. The remains are extensive, and the place, which has been built of brick, is about three miles in circumference. There is a ruined citadel on the river side of the town; but otherwise Harapa is a perfect chaos, and has not an entire building: the bricks have been removed to build a small place of the old name hard by. Tradition fixes the fall of Harapa at the same period as Shorkote (1300 years ago), and the people ascribe its ruin to the vengeance of God on Harapa, its governor, who claimed certain privileges on the marriage of every couple in his city, and in the course of his sensualities, was guilty of incest. At a later period, Harapa became a Mahommedan town; and there is a tomb of a Saint of the “faithful,” eighteen feet in length, the assigned, but fabulous, stature of the deceased. A large stone of annular form, and a huge black slab of an oval shape, which lie near the grave, are said to represent the ring and its gem of this departed giant, and to have been converted from more valuable to their present base materials. Where such fables are believed, we must cease to hope for even reasonable fiction. I found some coins in these ruins, both Persian and Hindoo, but I cannot fix its era from any of them.
The inhabitants.
As we ascended the Ravee, and cleared the country of the Kattias, the population increased, and their hamlets, though small, were numerous. Crowds of people flocked to the banks of the river as we approached, and evinced the most intense curiosity to see us. One man would call out that he was a Syud, another that he was a Zemindar, a third that he was a Peer, or Saint, and a fourth, that he was a Seik; while the ladies themselves were not backward in expressing their anxiety for a sight of us. On such occasions we always moved out of our cabin, or bungalow; but this ready exhibition only attracted another concourse of spectators. The notions which they entertained of us were most extravagant: we were believed to be under the guardian care of two pigeons, who shaded us from the sun and rain. One individual asked us seriously to impart to him the secret of converting shreds of onions into gold ducats, which he had understood we had been practising!
A tiger hunt.
The bravery of our Seik friends had been already exhibited to us by their attacking the wild hog with a sword, on foot; but a nobler specimen of their courage was displayed in the death of a tiger. We disturbed the animal in a thicket of tamarisk close to our boats; and the Mihmandar immediately invited us to see the sport. Mr. Leckie accompanied the party; but our elephant was not at hand, and I did not go. The party was entirely composed of horsemen. The monster was speedily wounded by some one, and several riders were unhorsed from the fright of their steeds. The Seiks then advanced on foot, sword in hand, to attack the tiger: he sprang at one man most furiously; and, as he fixed on his left shoulder, the poor fellow bravely struck his head by a well-directed blow: the contest was unequal, and the man fell, horribly lacerated. His comrades instantly ran up, and, with cuts and wounds, the tiger soon fell. He was a huge animal, and measured ten feet: his thigh was as large as that of a full-grown man. The coolness and courage of the Seiks surpass belief; they have great encouragement from their chiefs. To all my enquiries regarding the unfortunate man that had been wounded, they replied, with an ostentation of indifference, that he was but a Seik, would be well rewarded, and had already received a horse, and his annual pay had been increased an hundred rupees. The skin, head, and paws of the tiger were immediately despatched to the Maharaja, whose bounty will be further extended to the wounded. This encouragement makes these people the bravest of the Indians.
Strange treatment.