CHAPTER XVII.
LIFE OUTSIDE OOTY.
Speaking seriously, the dearth of diversion or even occupation at Ootacamund, considerably diminishes its value as a sanitary station. It is generally remarked, that a man who in other places drinks a little too freely, here seldom fails to bring on an attack of delirium tremens. After the first excitement passes away, it is apt to be succeeded by a sense of dreariness and ennui more debilitating to the system than even the perpetual perspirations of the plains.
The chief occupations for a visitor outside of Ooty are curiosity-hunting, field-sports, and excursionizing.
Of late years, the Neilgherries have been so exposed to the pickaxes of indefatigable archæologists, that their huge store of curiosities has been almost exhausted. Little now remains but the fixtures. In many parts almost every hill is crowned by single and double cairns, enclosing open areas, which, when opened, were found to contain numerous pottery[163] figures of men and animals. There are some remarkable remains which remind us of the Cromlechs[164] and Kistvaens[165] of Druidism; all, however, have been rifled of the funeral urns and the other relics which they contained. Vases holding burnt bones and charcoal, brass vessels, spear heads, clay images of female warriors on horseback, stone pestles, pots and covers ornamented with human figures and curious animals, have been taken from the barrows that abound in different parts of the Neilgherries. The ruins of forts and pagodas, traces of buildings and manual labour, may be discovered in the darkest recesses of ancient forests. Long and deep fosses, the use of which cannot be explained, and diminutive labyrinths still remain the monuments of ancient civilization. At St. Catherine’s Falls, near Kotagherry, the natives show marks in the rock which they attribute to a certain hill Rajah who urged his horse over the precipice to escape the pursuit of his foes. The land is rich in such traditions. There is a name for every hill;[166] to every remarkable one is attached some cherished legend. Here we are shown the favourite seats of the Rishi, or saintly race, who, in hoary eld, honoured the green tops of the Blue Mountains with their holy presence. There, we are told, abode the foul Rakhshasa (demon) tribe, that loved to work man’s mortal woe; and there, dwarfish beings, somewhat like our fairies, long since passed away, lived in the dancing and singing style of existence usually attributed by barbarians to those pretty creatures of their imaginations.
The Toda family—the grand depository of Neilgherry tradition—has supplied our curiosity-hunters with many a marvel. But, let the young beginner beware how he trusts to their information. The fellows can enjoy a hoax. Moreover, with the instinctive cunning of the wild man, they are inveterate liars, concealing truth because they perceive that their betters attach some importance to extracting it, and yet cannot understand the reason why they should take the trouble to do so. For instance—we heard of a gentleman who, when walking near one of the villages, saw some roughly-rounded stones lying upon the ground, and asked a Toda what their use might be. The savage replied extempore, that the biggest piece was, according to his creed, the grandfather of the gods; another was the grandmother, and so on to a great length. He received a rupee for the intelligence given; and well he won it. The stones were those used by the young men of the hamlet for “putting” in their leisure hours—a slender foundation, indeed, to support so grand a superstructure of traditional lore!
Antiquarians are everywhere a simple race: in India, “con tutto rispetto parlando,” we are almost tempted to describe them as simpletons. Who does not recollect the Athenæum sauce-jar which some wag buried in the ruins of a fort, said to have been founded by Alexander the Great at Sehwan in Scinde, and the strange theories which the Etruscan images upon that article elicited from grave and learned heads?
Game is still plentiful in the Neilgherries. The little woods about Ootacamund abound in woodcock, leopard,[167] and ibex. Near Coonoor, elk and wild hog are to be met with, and to the east of Kotagherry there is excellent bison-shooting. Elephants occasionally ascend the Koondah hills to escape the fiery heat of the luxuriant jungles below the mountains. Tigers are rare in these parts, and no one takes the trouble to attack them: the cold climate ruins them for sport by diminishing their ferocity and the chance of one’s being clawed. The wolf is not an aboriginal of the hills: he sometimes, however, favours us with a visit, in packs, gaunt with hunger and sufficiently fierce, for the purpose of dining on the dogs. The small black bear, or rather ant-eater of the plains, affords tolerable sport; but this Alpine region does not produce the large and powerful brown animal of the Pyrenees and Central Asia.