Foreign Parts
Peradeniya-Kandy, Ceylon

Foreign Parts.

On Tour from New South Wales.

[By H. Rieck.]

Peradeniya-Kandy, Feb. 13, 1899.

The day of our departure from this wonderful spot draws near, and we will soon have to turn our eyes and thoughts towards other scenes; from persons and surroundings grown so dear and homely to us as if we had lived here many years.

Four days ago we wandered along Trincomalee-street, Kandy, towards the village of Katugastota, on the Mahaveli-ganga River, about three miles from town. We walked along numerous rice fields, some of which were in full bloom, while in others the heavy, ripe crop was lying flat, and being cut with reaping hooks by busy brown coolies, the sheaves being laid on small dykes surrounding the level terraces. Some fields had been ploughed up again by help of powerful black buffaloes, whose progression was slow in the muddy fields. Sometimes the flats gave way to mountain spurs covered as the case may be by wild jungle, cocoa bean, cocoa palm or tea plantations. We next came upon native huts singly and in groups, made out of cocoa palm-leaf mats and thatch, and pompously or idyllically (according to the tastes of the well-to-do owners) arranged and constructed bungalows (or country seats), with or without gardens or fields, and with romantic-sounding names written on the gate posts.

Presently we perceived among the native pedestrians and strange vehicles, the huge dark side of an elephant. This was what we had walked so far to behold; but scarcely had I pointed out the great black moving mass to my companion—who was determined not to leave Ceylon before seeing these gigantic natives of the island at large—than the animal turned suddenly into a by-path, and was soon lost to sight in the dense jungle. A native, however, was riding the animal, therefore it was only a tame one.

Then we came to a very long bridge spanning the broad, yellow, muddy Ganga River. This bridge is a modern iron one, about ¼-mile long, with an enormous high rail, but the meshes are so wide as to afford little protection. We proceeded a good distance along the bridge, when—with very mixed sentiments—we saw a huge elephant with yard-long tusks approaching, to the horror of my companion, who concluded that it must be a “wild one” as we could perceive no one in charge. The huge animal looked at us benevolently with its small eyes, and then from the other side an Indian stepped out and grasping the animal by the ear with a pointed iron hook, brought it to a standstill alongside of us. At the bidding of the Indian the elephant held up its fore-leg for us to step on and mount that 7½ft. high back, but we declined. However, we had a good look at the majestic animal; and then proceeded to the opposite bank of the Ganga for a cooling drink, a smoke, and a rest.

There we met a native Buddhist chief. This man, a magistrate of the district and the head guardian of the Buddhist temple of Katugastota, speaks good English, is well educated, and named Dunnawilla. After a conversation about the world in general, he invited us to inspect his estate, where he treated us most hospitably. He showed us his herd of elephants—old bulls, cows and funny calves—all lying flat in the river. It is very interesting to observe how these highly intelligent animals act in harmony with the wishes of their experienced masters. They are used for ploughing and breaking up new ground, pulling out tree roots and stumps, and dragging and carrying timber; serving also, gorgeously attired and caparisoned, their Buddhist masters in religious processions. The prices of elephants range from £25 to £200 per head. In parts of the island where elephants live in a wild state recruits, both young and old, are searched for, and driven and flogged with heavy chains by tamed elephants. When in a state of exhaustion they are tied by one of their hind feet to strong trees, and gradually, firstly by hunger, then dainty food, coaxing and cruel flogging administered by tame elephants and men subdued and tamed. Enormous bundles of coarse, juicy palm leaves, tied together like fascines, form the elephants’ food. The animals after their morning’s work cool themselves for about three hours, and then partake of their dinner with evident satisfaction. They grasp the heavy bundles with their trunks, and when the molars began to crush the food it reminded us of the quartz-crushing plants on the Orara. As the work of digestion proceeds sounds like subterranean thunder come from the animals. When finished, the docile monsters go off peaceably to their afternoon tasks.

On the following day we visited for the last time the celebrated Peradeniya gardens, where in a space of 150 acres 200 coolies of all ages are, with the aid of the small Zebu bullocks, constantly employed to keep the enormous collections of plants of all tropical countries of our earth in first-rate trim. Is it not strange that this paradisian garden—like all Ceylon—is not visited like other interesting spots of the globe—by “the millions,” the great population of our white race out of towns and countries? The traffic of fast, big passenger steamers has during the last 12 years increased a hundredfold in Colombo Harbour, but the gardens of Peradeniya are only visited comparatively by a very scanty number of mostly very blasé and washed-out looking noblesse, driven about in a half-asleep state in the gorgeously-attired equipages of the few and very expensive hotels of Kandy and Nuwara Eliya.

There are no clean, cheap public boarding-houses for the middle white classes on the whole island of Ceylon; but there are either palaces out of reach of 100-millionaires, or abodes very doubtful for white family people. I was, therefore, very lucky to be able to hire a few clean furnished rooms at the spacious country seat of my old friend Mr. W. Woth, situated on a hill overlooking a grand landscape. We paid a very moderate price, and we do our own cooking in Australian style, as we cannot get accustomed to the hot curry and sharp-spiced Indian meals. Should any of our readers intend to make a trip like ours from Australia to Ceylon, or break their home journey at Colombo for a month, they should write beforehand to Mrs. W. Woth, Peradeniya Road, Kandy, and refer to the writer.

Close to Peradeniya railway station is a model tea manufactory in full work. The whole concern is driven by water-power (turbine), and besides that grown on the estate belonging to the establishment there is daily bought and manufactured from the surrounding plantations 500lb. of raw green tea sprout pickings, at the present price of 4 cents per lb. of green pickings (£1 is equal to 15 rupees, and 1 rupee is equal to 100 cents.) The coolies working at the mill get 30 cents per day each, and find themselves. Little boys and girls pick the tea leaves, and can gather 25lb. per day in favourable weather; they get 25 cents per head per day, and find themselves. The tea bushes are planted about 3 feet apart, and are topped flat down like a plate to about 1½ to 2 feet off the ground, and the sprouting young leaves (three leaves on one young sprout) are picked with great rapidity by those brown children. The tea plantations are laid out on the slopes of high mountains, where the paths run zig-zag, with deep narrow trenches above each of these paths to lead the rain water off. The young tea plants are before and during rain set out into the hard ground, and often between outcropping big boulders of rocks. The ground is of a very coarse light sandy loam, of volcanic origin. The rocks are granite, old sandstone and limestone, and often quartz. The description of the drying, curling, roasting, sorting and packing in the manufactory I will retain for a later letter, but I will here state that the plant is a Jackson’s patent “Britannia” tea dryer, class No. 552, by Marshall, Sons and Co., Gainsborough, England.

The Lancashire Regiment of Infantry—which was mixed up in some nasty court work concerning a burgher of Kandy, who, in defending his young newly-married wife against gross insult, was struck over the head, and when down kicked to death by uniformed men—has been removed to China, where they might try their pluck with the Cossacks. A Scotch Highland Regiment has arrived in their place, and made their entry into barracks with drums and bagpipes, amidst the joyous shouts of the good and patient brown population.