This is India, the wonderful land of the Hindoos. Africa had appeared strange to us compared with Europe and America; Asia seemed still more so. The Hindoos have a high and very old civilization, but entirely different from that of Europe and America. The country is named after the river Indus. It is hardly equal in area to one-half of the United States, but contains a population of more than two hundred and sixty-nine millions, eighty-one millions of whom are Mohammedans, one hundred and ninety millions Brahmins, two millions Christians, three and a half millions, Buddhists, Parsees or fire-worshipers, two millions Sikhs, and the rest are Jews or adherents of unknown religions. Queen Victoria of England is Empress of India, and the country is ruled in her name by a viceroy. It is divided into three great presidencies, viz., Bengal, Madras, and Bombay, and these are again divided into a number of districts and native principalities. In order to maintain her supremacy in India, England keeps an army of about two hundred thousand regulars, of whom a little over one-third are English and the rest natives; and beside these there is a large militia and police force. Most of the native soldiers hail from the mountain districts. The most prominent of them belong to the Sikhs and Gourkas, two Indian nations. The Sikhs are tall, stately fellows, in my opinion ideal soldiers for a standing army. The Gourkas are smaller in stature, but very energetic and hardy; and both are renowned for their courage and endurance. It is said that a Gourka soldier would rather fight than eat, while a Sikh takes the matter more philosophically, and eats first and then fights. All native regiments are commanded by British officers, and a native seldom attains the rank of a commanding officer,—not because he is incapable of performing this duty, but rather because the English do not trust him implicitly.

The bulk of the people belong to the Arian race, as we do; with the exception of the complexion, which is a little darker, their features are the same as ours. Occasionally a Hindoo may have red hair, but never blonde hair and blue eyes. Comparing the higher and the lower classes, the complexion of the former is lighter, and their bodies are better built and statelier than those of the lower or laboring classes, who also have a darker skin. The English language is used at the court and in all official circles, and the men of the higher classes among the natives speak and read English.

The plain of Bengal, in which Calcutta is situated, is triangular in form, each side being about one thousand miles in length. It is bounded by the Bay of Bengal, the Indian ocean, the Bay of Persia, and the Himalaya mountains. The soil is very rich, and, having been cultivated for thousands of years, it still produces two or three fair crops a year without fertilization or proper cultivation. As the Nile in Egypt deposits a rich sediment over its valley, so does the river Ganges carry from the mountains a whitish, slimy silt, which it deposits during its annual overflow in the plains of Bengal. This silt is a great fertilizer, and thus nature supplies what poor husbandry fails to provide.

It is not my intention to give a description of India and its wonderful people, but simply to give some pen pictures of scenes and incidents which came within the range of my observation and experience during the year and a half which I stayed there. I shall therefore ask the reader to follow me on my daily walks of life as well as to some of the fÊtes and entertainments where I was a guest, and on my travels through the wonderful country. I had a chance to come in contact with all classes, as the rank to which my official position entitled me not only opened the doors of the palaces and temples to me, but also paved my way to the humblest houses.

India has over five hundred cities. Of these Calcutta is the largest, and has a population of about eight hundred thousand. It is called “the city of palaces,” but only certain portions of the city deserve that name. Owing to the warm climate, the buildings in India, as in all other warm countries, are low, seldom more than two stories high, and the walls and roofs are very thick. The building material generally consists of brick and cement, the roofs being mostly made of the latter. There are verandas on the sides of the houses, and these, as well as the windows, are protected by heavy Venetian blinds. In the evening the doors and windows are thrown open so as to let in the cool night air, but in the morning they are closely shut, so as to keep as much of it as possible. Inside there are many contrivances for protecting the people against the excessive heat. The most important of these is the punkah, consisting of a wooden framework which is stretched with heavy canvass and is about two and a half feet wide, and from ten to twenty feet long, according to the size of the room. It is suspended from the ceiling, and reaches down to the heads of people sitting on chairs. By means of pulleys this punkah is kept in an oscillating motion by coolies stationed in the back of the house or on the back porch, and it creates such a pleasant breeze that one forgets all about the heat. Every room or office in the houses of Europeans and Americans has its punkah, and even the churches have a great number of them during the hot season. From March till October the punkahs are kept in motion all night over the beds of those who can afford the luxury of four “punkah walla” (pullers); for it always takes two pullers for each punkah in the day-time, and two others at night to relieve each other every hour or two. Servants’ wages are very low in India, and as the punkah walla belongs to the lowest grade of servants his wages are only five rupees ($2.50) a month, and he must board himself as do all other servants.

The clothing which people wear also adds largely to their comfort. The cooley, or common laborer, wears a long piece of cloth wrapped around his waist and tucked up so as to resemble a short pair of drawers, and a head gear somewhat resembling a turban; the breast, back, and upper limbs being entirely naked. Both men and women of the better class of natives have loose falling robes of jute, silk or cotton. Europeans generally dress in white linen trousers and jackets, and it is only toward evening when taking a drive near the public parks, or at night while attending parties and receptions, that etiquette compells them to put on the black dress suit. What strikes the newcomer most on his first arrival in India is perhaps the great number of people that he meets and sees. The cities are veritable bee-hives of moving crowds of people, and the bazaars, shops, and dwellings resemble honey-combs, with their many subdivisions, giving each man or group of men the smallest possible space.

Sitting in my comfortable easy chair with my eyes closed, thinking of the past, I now see a picture of a spot in Calcutta called “Dalhousie Square,” where I loved to walk in the cool evening shades. I wish I were an artist and could paint the picture on canvas for my readers; but since I am not I will try to describe it with the pen. Dalhousie square is about twice the size of our ordinary city parks; it is laid out in walks, flower beds and grass plots, and planted with flowers, shrubs and trees of almost every imaginable kind; it is a perfect gem of a little park. It is surrounded by a high iron railing, with gates at the four corners, which are open in the day time. On one side of the park are the new government office buildings, while the other sides are lined with ordinary business houses, separated from the park by wide streets. The principal one of these streets leads from the viceroy’s palace up to the native part of the city, and is generally frequented by a great number of fine carriages, hacks, palanquin bearers, horsemen, and thousands of pedestrians.

At one corner is a hack stand, with hacks just like our own; but instead of our American hackdriver we find the native Jehu, or coachman, who, while waiting for a customer, sits perched on the seat with his feet drawn up under his body, engaged with needle and thread in sewing a garment for himself or his wife, perhaps, or occupying himself with a piece of embroidery or fine crochet work.

In front of yonder fine office building is seated a Durwan (doorkeeper), who is a Brahmin or priest. He sits at that door or gate all day long, and sleeps in front of it at night on his little bed, which resembles a camp cot. Early in the morning he takes up his bed and walks with it to the rear, where stands a little cookhouse in which he prepares his food for the day, consisting chiefly of boiled rice and vegetables. Just now he is reading aloud, and with a singing voice, from the Shastras (the Hindoo Bible) to a crowd of listeners, who eagerly and reverently seize on every word from the holy writings. Just behind me on a green spot in the park a dozen or more Mohammedans lie prostrate, their foreheads touching the ground, repeating their prayers; and if it happens to be at the setting of the sun hundreds of people are seen in the streets, shops, hotel corridors, or wherever they happen to be, turning their faces toward the holy city Mecca, reverently kneeling and saying their evening prayers.

Here on the side-walk, close by me, sits a money-changer and broker. He has a box filled with coins of almost every kind and description; he buys and sells gold and silver of other countries, such as are not current in Calcutta, loans money on jewelry and other valuables, and does a general banking business on a very small scale. There comes a peddler,—more of them. Now they are crowding in by the hundred, selling canes, parasols, embroideries, watches, jewelry, and trinkets of every description, following the foot passengers, running beside the carriages going at full speed, sticking their goods through the windows and imploring the occupants to buy.

Going around to the more quiet side of the square, I find a professional writer squatted on the side-walk. He has a bundle of dry palm leaves, and a customer of the lowest Hindoo classes stands before him stating what message he wishes to send to his wife and relatives in the country. With a sharp steel instrument the writer inscribes some strange Bengal letters on the palm leaf, folds it up into a little package which is sent by a traveling neighbor, or, perhaps, by a swift messenger, to the dear one in the humble cottage which stands somewhere out on the plain among the rice fields.

A little further on sits a native barber, also on the side-walk.[5] Instead of a barber’s chair he has a common-sized brick. The man who is to be shaved squats down opposite the barber; if the customer is the shorter of the two the brick is put under his feet, but if he is taller the barber puts the brick under his own feet, in order that they may be on a perfect level before the operation begins. A Hindoo barber not only shaves and cuts the hair, but also cleans the nails and ears and does other toilet work.

There I see two stately men walking arm in arm; they have fine cut, very regular features, and beautiful black hair and beard; their intelligent looks and easy carriage command attention; they wear japanned shoes, snow white trousers, long white linen coats buttoned close to the chin, and high black hats without brim. They are Parsees, descendants of the ancient Persians and fire-worshipers, and probably merchants and men of wealth. And there again I see a group of Asiatic Jews in skull caps and long gowns,—keen, thoughtful and intelligent, without the slightest change in manners, costumes, or features since the days of the Jews of nineteen hundred years ago.

In the crowded street I suddenly hear a shout, and see two men running with staffs in their hands, hallooing: “Stand aside, get out of the way, you fellows! The Prince of Travancore is coming! Clear the road, get out of the way!” Close on the heels of the runners is a magnificent carriage drawn by four Arabian steeds. By the side of the driver sits a trumpeter, who occasionally blows in a long horn to make known that the great personage is coming. Inside is the prince, and behind the carriage are four mounted soldiers, his body guard.

Just coming in sight around a street corner, turning up one of the native streets, is a long line of ox-carts. They are loaded with cotton, jute, hides, indigo, or other native products. They are very light, and are drawn by a pair of Hindoo oxen no larger than a two-year-old heifer of our cattle, but with fine limbs and a high hump over the shoulders. They are yoked far apart, about the same way as in Sweden; but the coolie driver sits close behind them and guides them by a twist of the tail with his hand. Several palanquin-bearers are passing the square. The palanquin is a long covered box attached to a long pole and carried by four men, two at each end of the pole, which rests on their shoulders. Inside the palanquin is perhaps a Hindoo merchant going to a bazaar, or a couple of students going to the university, or maybe the wife of some well-to-do native merchant on the way to the home of her parents.