Part 3

‘Pigman’s wife not knowing Alfred Sahib have much _Burra Bahadur_ (Great Panjandrum), giving him some chupatties to toast before fire, same like Master doing now. Then pigman’s wife going out to see pigs. Alfred Sahib besides being king of England, was a bit of a _Bajawallah_ (music-man). When pigman’s wife going out, Alfred Sahib playing on his baja same like Master on banjo. Chupatties getting burned; pigman’s wife coming back, getting plenty angry, then stick-striking (_Lackri-marta_) Alfred Sahib.—Now, Zacharias, you understand all that?’

_Zach._ Yes, sah.

‘What do you understand?’

_Zach._ Master not liking raw chupatties.

‘Yes; and I would take this opportunity of impressing on you the many advantages to be gained by entirely giving up chupatties in favour of bread. Look at that piece of garbage I have got to eat! I warn you that so long as you and your fellow-men in India continue to eat chupatties and such-like nastiness, so long will you remain in that state of degradation and darkness that England was in, in the days of Alfred Sahib.—Do you understand?’

_Zach._ Yes, sah.

After this expression of sentiment, I went to dinner, and really enjoyed my toasted chupattie, as I had converted it into a sort of ship’s biscuit, than which there is nothing better. When I felt the influence, benign and benevolent, of doing myself well, creeping over me, I was at the stage of my first glass of wine, and this was a bumper to Absent Friends. What a host of faces passed before my eyes as I shut them and quaffed the time-honoured toast! How I could have moralised, and become sentimental and maudlin! But as that was not my intention at all, I wished all the dear good souls the ‘Best of luck—lots of it, and may I soon be there to see!’ and resumed my lessons in civilisation to Zacharias. I never before appreciated so thoroughly what a capital thing it is to have an English-speaking servant in India. Did I say English-_speaking_? I am afraid I did; but English-understanding would be a better expression, for I never gave Zacharias a chance of speaking till after dinner, when he came in capitally. I told him how shameful it was that his fellows would use the poisonous _dekskai_ (cooking-pot), with its bi-monthly demand for tinning or for a substitute ‘leading,’ when kind English people tried to introduce the more familiar saucepan of iron and enamel. I told him how much better a slow-burning moderate fire was for cooking purposes than the pot-destroying furnaces of charcoal over which everything is cooked in India; how nothing was cooked through, but everything sodden inside and burned outside. I ingratiated myself again by drinking his health. I then attacked him on another point, and told him confidentially that if it was not for his fellows’ silly ideas on the subject of caste, that we should never have taken the country; and was rather glad that he put a stop to this unwise disclosure and counsel by saying: ‘God is good, sah. Gentlemens never knowing why caste, and not liking.’

At last I finished dinner; and then gave a few directions for the morning—to be called at half-past six, to have breakfast ready at seven A.M., and to shut up rooms and come with me. But the demon of speechifying was on me, the _cacoëthes loquendi_, and nothing under an eighteen-hundred horse-power steam fire-engine could quench the raging fire that had mastered the movements of my tongue. The only consolation was that I gave Zacharias more chances. I asked him questions. ‘When Master going to the war’ (there was none in prospect), ‘what will Zacharias do?’

‘I will always come with Master. Master good to me, sah.’

‘Has Zacharias ever heard of Russian peoples?’

‘Yes, sah. I was always hearing when I was little child in _i-school_, Russian peoples coming—never come. God is good, and Russian peoples bad peoples. If Russian peoples coming, then Queen’s peoples putting them back to their own land; but never coming, sah.’

‘But the Baboos say they are not well treated sometimes; and they make a lot of bobbery, and do plenty bad talking, and not liking English peoples. I tell you, Zacharias, if the Russian people came, the Baboos won’t have a chance of holding their silly meetings; they’ll be put to clean the Russian gentlemen’s backyards, and do all the dirty work that can be found for them.’

‘Yes, sah. These Baboos are fools. If English gentlemens not coming, where is got Baboo? Only Bengal people talking that way. Madras peoples always right.’

‘Bravo, Zacharias! Here’s a toast to Madras, the benighted presidency, and may she always have as staunch countrymen as you!’

‘Thank you, sah.’

‘But about these Russians—tell me some more.’

‘Russian peoples got no money; Queen got plenty money. English soldiers plenty strong, so Russian peoples not coming.’

‘That’s right. You stick to that; and when you hear the silly Baboos saying they are downtrodden, you tell them, with my compliments, that they are a pack of fools, and that they had better not wait for anybody else to tread on them, when they hear the _Sahiblogues_ [Englishmen] are going.’

‘Yes, sah; that is right. If English peoples not coming here, I would never be wearing such clothes as these.’ (Zacharias is very well pleased with himself when he has got on his clean dinner clothes, as he had, to celebrate Christmas Day of 1883.)

‘Now, you understand what I say, eh?’

‘Yes, sah.’ (Here came the crushing blow, the long-deserved snub to my loquacity.) ‘Master wants calling at half-past six, and breakfast at seven.—Good-night, sah.’

I couldn’t help but take a hint so gently given; and so, bidding my faithful Zacharias—I sincerely believe he is faithful—‘good-night,’ I knocked the ashes out of my pipe, and brought to a conclusion my Christmas Day.

A NOVEL ADVENTURE.

It was always my conviction that a Briton ought never to go abroad to seek beautiful scenery until he had travelled all over his own country, and accordingly in early manhood I made a series of walking tours until I had seen every variety of English, Welsh, Scotch, and Irish scenery. It was in the course of one of these tours that I came across the pretty little village of Ferneville. Hills softly undulating and beautifully wooded surrounded the place; while two large ponds and numerous brooks supplied fishing enough to satisfy the wants of even an ardent angler like myself. The village was one of those little places where the population seems never to increase and the trade of the builder to be unknown. Visited by few strangers, this secluded village was just the kind of place for a traveller to rest himself and recruit. Here, then, I resolved to take my ease until such time as I felt disposed to resume my journey. The village inn afforded comfortable quarters, and here I ensconced myself, filling up part of my time in posting up my diary and writing to relatives and friends, matters which I had very much neglected. Much of my time was spent, too, in taking long rambles into the country and exploring the district for miles round; often, too, I took my fishing tackle with me, and seldom returned empty handed.

One day, when I was about setting off on one of these rambles, a young fellow arrived at the inn, having had apparently a pretty long walk. He had started, he said, early that morning from the town of B——, purposing to reach C—— in the afternoon; but having taken what he understood to be a short-cut, he had lost his bearings—a thing people often do when they take ‘short-cuts’—and now found himself some twelve miles from his destination. From what he said, however, I found that it was not really necessary for him to be in C—— before the next day; and as he seemed an agreeable and companionable gentleman, I suggested that he should keep me company for the rest of the day, sleep at the inn that night, and resume his journey next morning. This he agreed to do; and my bedroom having two beds, it was arranged that he should share it with me.

Half an hour’s conversation with my new acquaintance confirmed my good opinion of his sociable qualities, and I congratulated myself upon the agreeable companionship I had secured for the better part of a day. We dined together, and then set out for a stroll, returning in time for supper, well pleased with each other’s society; at all events, I was charmed with my companion, his light-heartedness and extreme vivacity coming as a refreshing and an agreeable change after the rather dull company of the few villagers whose acquaintance I had cultivated. A chat and a pipe followed supper, and then, in good spirits, we retired for the night.

As was usual with me, I was soon lost in slumber; but after being asleep for what seemed a considerable time, I found myself awake and dimly conscious of some one moving about the room. The day was beginning to break, and sufficient light penetrated through the window-blind to render objects in the room dimly visible. My ideas were at first hazy, and no recollection of my companion crossed my mind; hence I concluded that I was alone in the room with this burglar, as I took him to be, and I resolved to watch him quietly. His back was towards me; but he turned suddenly, and as the feeble light from the window fell across his face, I recognised my companion of the previous day. His expression was wild and savage, and in his right hand he held a large, long knife, with which from time to time he struck fiercely at the empty air, muttering rapidly words of which I could not catch the import! I am not a timid man, but I must confess that a kind of sickly feeling came over me as it flashed across me that I was alone with a lunatic, and that, too, at a time when, the rest of the household being asleep, the chance of any help was very remote. To be alone in bed at night while an armed burglar is prowling about the room, is bad enough; but when, in place of the burglar, you have a madman, the case is infinitely worse; an attack might be made at any moment, and without the least provocation.

My mind reviewed rapidly the incidents of the previous day. I had noticed nothing in my companion’s demeanour which would lead any one to suppose he was insane. True, I had been struck with his vivacity, and rather astonished at the rapidity with which he would pass from one topic to another; but this had simply pleased me as a trait of originality. Through my half-opened eyes and by the increasing light, I now saw him suddenly pause in his movements, bend forward, and gaze half eagerly, half hesitatingly in my direction. My heart nearly ceased to beat. Would he come forward? He advanced quickly a couple of steps, his face lighted up with a fiendish anticipatory pleasure; then he stopped for a moment. Should I spring from the bed and rush upon him? There was still about half the length of the room between us. No; the distance was too great for me to take him by surprise. He again came quickly forward, stood for a moment by my bedside, and then, with a savage scowl, the knife was thrown back to strike. But before it could descend, I had darted from the bed and was upon him, my left hand grasping his right wrist. ‘Madman!’ I hissed, as I forced him backwards, ‘drop the knife!’ In another moment we had fallen heavily, he undermost. His leg had caught against his own bed, and my weight had forced him backwards. In falling, his head struck against a piece of furniture with sufficient force to stun him. I took advantage of this to possess myself of the knife, which I had scarcely done when he opened his eyes. I planted myself firmly, expecting that he would renew the struggle; but, to my surprise, he burst into a laugh, and at length exclaimed: ‘Well, I have made a fool of myself, I must admit. I am no more mad than you are; and I am sure I have no designs against your life, however suspicious things may appear. Loose me, and I will explain all, although I know that in doing so I shall lay myself open to your ridicule.’

The laughter was so hearty and the tone so genuine, that I complied; besides, I had the knife if the worst came to the worst.

‘The fact is,’ he commenced, ‘I am stage-struck (don’t laugh at me more than you can help). I wanted to go on the stage, but to this my father strongly objected. The craze was, however, too strong upon me to allow of my quietly giving up the idea, and at last the opportunity of realising my ambition presented itself. Near our town is a small place where there is a little theatre—a poor affair, and visited only by third or fourth rate companies. Well, I made acquaintance with a party of travelling players there, and one of their number having left them, it was arranged that I should take his place at the next town they visited. I was walking on there, when, getting rather out of my course, as you know, I met you. I had expected being alone last evening and going over my part in private; but, of course, your being with me stopped that. I woke very early this morning, and being full of anxiety to make sure of my part, and imagining you to be fast asleep—as I believe _now_ you really were at first—I could not resist the temptation of trying a rehearsal _sotto voce_. In the play, I have to murder my rival in his sleep; and your lying there in bed gave such a realistic air to the thing, that I could not resist going through my part of the play with you as the rival, seeing you were, as I thought, safe asleep. Judge, then, of my feelings when, without a moment’s warning, you suddenly sprang upon me! Surprised and confused, I knew not for the moment what to do; but before I could collect myself, I had stumbled and fallen; and I suppose I must have been stunned, for I remember nothing more until I found myself on the floor, with you kneeling upon my chest, and looking quite prepared for a deadly struggle.—Now, you know all, and I hope you are none the worse off for the little adventure than I am?’

My answer was that I was only too glad the affair had terminated in so peaceable a manner, and that my sleeping companion, instead of being a lunatic, was only afflicted with a mania for the stage. I added, that I hoped the incident might cure him of the craze. And so it did. My companion did not appear on the professional stage, though I have often seen him to advantage in private theatricals, and have frequently watched him rehearse, but never with the same uncomfortable feelings as I did that night at the village inn.

SOME ASPECTS OF CANADIAN PROGRESS.

For those who cannot actually travel over the Canadian Pacific Railway from Montreal to Vancouver, in British Columbia, perhaps the next best thing is to look through the eyes of the _Times_ correspondent, whose ‘Canadian Tour’ has just been reprinted from the columns of that journal. Progress in the North-west is so rapid, that even this journey, performed quite recently, will soon grow antiquated; but many of the particulars are so full of interest for all who are concerned in the progress of the Canadian Dominion, that we make no apology in gleaning the most important facts therefrom, and from other sources, for the general reader.

The completion of the Canadian Pacific Railway has been the signal for embarkation in other comprehensive designs for opening up and furthering the interests of the Dominion. The Hudson Bay Railway, running from the heart of Manitoba to Port Nelson, on Hudson Bay, is proceeding apace, and will open up a region hitherto almost shut out from communication with commercial centres, besides giving an opportunity of testing the feasibility of the proposed short sea-route from Canada to Liverpool. This route by way of Hudson Bay, which will save about one thousand miles as compared with the Quebec route, has been reported upon by officials on behalf of the Canadian government, and the various reports agree that it will be navigable for four months of the year at least.

In the last session of the Canadian Parliament, an Act of Incorporation was passed on behalf of a new railway scheme to be called the Winnipeg and North Pacific Railway. Starting from Winnipeg, it has been planned to run in a north-westerly direction, bending to the west, and to strike the Pacific Ocean at Port Simpson, a point which is said to be four hundred miles nearer Yokohama than Vancouver, the present terminus of the Canadian Pacific. The country to be passed through is highly fertile, with great mineral wealth; and it is expected that this saving in distance will tell in its favour.

Meantime, the trade arrangements of the Canadian Pacific seem to meet with growing favour. Mr Everett Frazar, who has been concerned in more than one shipment of tea from China and Japan by this new route, reports that tea-importers in Canada and the United States are more than pleased with the quick despatch given to their orders, and the excellent condition in which consignments have reached them. One result has been that Chicago is rapidly overtaking New York as a tea-distributing centre. Yokohama being about five hundred miles nearer the western terminus of the Canadian Pacific than to San Francisco, two or three days can be saved by the Dominion route. The total tea imports for the season by the seven vessels already chartered are reckoned at 7,878,033 pounds, of the value of half a million pounds sterling. Suitable docks and wharfage have been prepared at Vancouver for the growing trade, and a fine three-story stone and brick hotel, which will be open for guests in the spring, is being erected.

The main characteristics of the line are thus described by the _Times_ correspondent. The first three hundred and fifty miles, carrying the line westward from Montreal to Lake Nipissing, is through old and well-developed country, commanding the timber traffic of the Ottawa River valley. For the next one thousand miles to the edge of the great prairie east of Winnipeg, the country passed through has extensive forests, and lands abounding in copper, iron, and silver. For nine hundred miles westward of Winnipeg there is a flat or rolling prairie, which is being rapidly settled, and which comprises some of the richest agricultural soil in the world. Nearly the entire length of the land-grant of the railway is already located here. This rich soil extends to the base of the Rockies. The railway now passes over a rough country, through mountain ranges, with immense forests, and splendid scenery. The best materials have been used in its construction throughout; the bridges and trestles are built in the strongest possible way; and the arrangements for traffic are efficient. The manager of the line told the _Times_ correspondent that he could at present undertake to transport eight thousand armed men a day from the Atlantic to the Pacific, should any Eastern complication render this necessary.

The distance from the eastern terminus at Montreal to the western end at Vancouver is two thousand nine hundred and nine miles, or three hundred and sixty-two miles less than the line between New York and San Francisco. From Liverpool to Vancouver by the Canadian Pacific route is five thousand one hundred and sixty miles. Across the Pacific Ocean to Yokohama, by the Canadian route from Liverpool, is nine thousand five hundred and forty-six miles, or eight hundred and eighty miles less than by the New York and San Francisco route. The traveller may choose the all-rail route westward, round the northern shore of Lake Superior, or by way of Owen Sound and Lake Superior, in the new steel steam-ships, the _Alberta_ or _Athabasca_.

No city in Canada has grown with greater rapidity than Winnipeg, the capital of Manitoba, which has now from twenty-seven to thirty thousand inhabitants, and no part of the country owes more for its development to the railway than the Red River Valley. Butter, cheese, vegetables, fruit, and grain, are now exported in large quantities. To further open up the prairie region, an elaborate network of branch railways has been arranged for, and town-lots have been laid off in connection therewith. The Manitoba and North-western Railway runs north-west from Portage La Prairie towards Prince Albert.

Regina, the capital of the North-west, stands on Pile of Bones River, a tributary of the Qu’Appelle River, one thousand seven hundred and seventy-nine miles west of Montreal. This place, of three hundred houses and not more than one thousand people, is the residence of the Governor of the North-west. Our correspondent likens the present appearance of the place to a section cut out of the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, with a few scattered rows of wooden houses set down upon it. In a little square-built brick courthouse, outside the town, Louis Riel, leader of the late rebellion in the North-west, was tried, and afterwards hanged at the barracks, about two miles off. Here are the headquarters of the mounted police, the constabulary of the North-west, the entire force consisting of about one thousand men.

There are few places of any importance westward of Regina; the villages and settlements are as yet in their infancy, and we hear such grotesque names as ‘Moose Jaw,’ ‘Swift Current,’ and ‘Medicine Hat.’ The large cattle ranges of Canada are situated in the south-western portion of the province of Alberta, Fort MacLeod and Calgary being two great centres for the ranchemen. Experienced cattle-men have pronounced the eastern slope of the Rockies as furnishing the best grass and water for large herds, in Western America. The winter there is less rigorous than in Manitoba and the older provinces. When the Canadian Pacific reaches Calgary, it runs along the valley of the Bow River, and crosses the summit of the Rockies at an elevation of five thousand five hundred and sixty feet.

At Donald, past which the Columbia River flows with a swift current, house-building is going on for the settlers, who at first had to live in tents and cabins. This place is destined to be an extensive settlement, with railway repair shops. The surface is covered with forests, except where clearings have been made. On leaving the Columbia, the railway turns sharply to the south, into the cañon of the Beaver River, a stream which rises from the centre of the Selkirk Range. As the railway rises, all the slopes of the mountains are seen clad with timber, and sawmills are busy. Trestle-bridges span the gaps made by tributary streams, and one of these is two hundred and ninety-six feet high, and four hundred and fifty feet long. The great mountain ranges of the Selkirk passed, the Gold or Coast Range comes next, where the traveller finds himself amongst the better-settled districts of British Columbia.