ladies, and for our start this evening. It was rather a difficult matter to get our visitors on board the big steam-launch and other boats without visible masculine assistance; but all was accomplished safely and satisfactorily, and they mustered in great force. I think they all enjoyed this little expedition, with its novel experiences, greatly.
As soon as the last lady had departed we hurried off to attend the St. John's Ambulance Meeting at the Secretariate, at which the Governor kindly presided. I earnestly hope it may be the means of reviving in Bombay some interest in the rather languishing local branch of a very useful institution. Many influential people were present, including doctors, large mill-owners, railway and police officials, and employers of labour generally, all of whom appeared warmly disposed to support the movement.
Directly after this meeting, Tom, who had intended to go on board the yacht with Lord Reay, was carried off by the bishop to see the Sailors' Institute. I therefore returned to the 'Sunbeam' alone, to see to various matters, and, later on, went back to Government House, where, as is nearly always the case, we had to dress for dinner in a desperate hurry. There was a large party assembled, among others being Sir Lepel Griffin.
All too soon came the last parting; and, in a long procession of barouches, phaetons, tandems, and dog-carts, we drove down to the Bunder, descending the steps for the last time with Maude Laurence (who is shortly returning to England), Captain Hamilton, Mr. Herbert, Major Gilchrist, and several other friends who had come to see us off. It was a sad business.
CHAPTER IV.
BOMBAY TO GOA
February 22nd.– We had been told that Jinjeera was seventy miles distant from Bombay. Our rate of progress being rather slow, we did not consult the chart until late in the afternoon, when we found great difficulty in making out the place at all. At last we discovered it, marked in the smallest of letters, close to the mouth of the Rajpoori River; Khassia, now in ruins, being on the opposite or north side. Instead of seventy, it proved to be only thirty-five miles from Bombay; so that we had actually overrun it. Knowing that we were expected, there was nothing to be done except to beat our way back against the wind during the night. It would have been a pleasant sail had it not been for the annoying loss of time which it involved.
Just before daybreak we saw the Rajpoori light, and the one at Kennery, twelve miles south of Bombay. About 9.30 a. m. the Nawab's brother came on board, and soon afterwards we proceeded to land. After rowing more than half round a curious island-fort, we arrived at the gateway, a small opening in the thick walls, where we were met by the Nawab himself, dressed in European costume, but wearing a red and gold turban, and surrounded by his native bodyguard.
The landing was rather difficult, for, owing to want of space, the boat had to be pushed in stern foremost. When this feat had been accomplished, some of the Nawab's followers brought chairs, and hoisted us with great dexterity to the top of the steps, where it was no easy matter to alight with the dignity proper to the occasion. Having received the salaams of the Nawab and returned his hearty welcome, we took a long walk all round the curious old fort of Jinjeera, built five hundred years ago. It contains many narrow passages designed for security, for they are entirely independent of the bastions, each of which is provided with its own little water-gate for the admission of supplies or the escape of the garrison in case of necessity. I found the walk very fatiguing owing to the heat, and so did many of the others.
The temperature would indeed have been unbearable but for an occasional puff of cooler air which reached us through the embrasures. Some of the guns were of Spanish manufacture, dated 1665, but most of them were lying useless on the ground. In no case would they avail much against modern ordnance; but the fort, owing to its natural advantages, would be difficult to attack. The present Nawab is of ancient descent, and one of his ancestors was an Admiral in the service of the Grand Mogul. At the time of the disruption of the Kingdom of Delhi the Nawab's State became independent, and has remained so ever since. He has about 70,000 subjects, in whose welfare he appears to take great interest. He has a shrewd face, is very English in appearance, and seems quite capable of looking after his own interests.1
It was delightfully refreshing to be able to rest in a spacious bungalow after our tour of the fort was over; and still more delicious was a curious sort of punkah, peculiar to the district, which fanned us pleasantly. The Nawab accompanied us on our return to the yacht, and afterwards sent us a most acceptable Nazir, or present, of two huge bunches of bananas, as well as other fruits and vegetables, besides milk and ghee.
The Nawab's second wife, whose mother we had met at Bombay, is a pretty little girl of about thirteen. She came on board to see us, but many precautions to preserve the purdah had to be taken. It was necessary to observe this custom in deference to the prejudices of her people rather than to those of her husband. She had never been on board a yacht before, and was naturally much interested in all she saw.
Soon after twelve we resumed our voyage to the southward before a deliciously cool breeze, which lasted for a considerable time. Further on, the coast seems to consist of a series of plateaux, varying in height from 200 to 600 feet, occasionally interrupted by a peak or a narrow strip of white beach, with here and there a small straggling town. At sunset we were off Ratnagiri, an ancient Mahratta fort connected with the mainland only by a narrow sandy neck. Its southern extremity is nearly 300 feet above the sea level, thus forming a headland, surmounted by a line of fortifications and bastions of great strength. The complete isolation of its position has doubtless caused it to be chosen as the place of detention of King Theebaw, who can have but little chance of escape. The entrance to the river lies to the eastward of the fort, and the intermediate space is covered with a luxuriant growth of cocoa-nut palms. The European station is to the northward, for the southern shore is rugged, and ends abruptly in cliffs and huge boulders. Small coasting steamers maintain as well as they can communication with the fort; but the approach is always difficult, and is almost impracticable during the south-west monsoon.
Mr. Crawford, who was formerly Commissioner here, had kindly given notice of our probable visit; for we had been anxious to land if possible to see something of King Theebaw, and to inspect the excellent industrial school established here. The district used formerly to be the great recruiting-ground for the Bombay army; but the young men now prefer entering the school, which, from one point of view, seems a pity. It was with much regret that, after having made preparations for landing, we were obliged to abandon the idea of doing so; for it became both late and dark, thus adding too much to the difficulties, and even dangers, of the proposed expedition. We therefore sailed slowly past, throwing up rockets at long intervals, to indicate that we were proceeding on our course.
As the evening wore on the breeze dropped, and during the night we made but little progress.
February 25th.– A calm and somewhat sultry night. Daylight brought a delicious and welcome sea-breeze, before which we sailed rapidly on our southward course. The morning was devoted to a general tidying up, preparatory to settling down for our long voyage.
Over the memory of the latter portion of this day I wish that I could draw a veil; but, sad as is the story, and little as I desire to dwell upon it, it must be told.
Travelling, visiting, and sight-seeing had so completely occupied our time in India, that I had found upon my return to Bombay a vast accumulation of letters from England and elsewhere requiring attention; and as it was far beyond my strength to deal with them without assistance, I considered myself fortunate in securing the services, as temporary secretary, of a gentleman whom we had met at Bombay, and who had been strongly recommended to us. Mr. Frank White was at that time engaged on the staff of the 'Bombay Gazette,' and, as Special Correspondent, had accompanied the present as well as the former Governor of Bombay upon their official tours. Now, however, he was about to leave India in order to take up an appointment on the staff of the 'Melbourne Argus,' and we, as a matter of mutual convenience, offered him a passage to Australia in
The Nawab of Jinjeera is of Abyssinian descent, and is popularly called the Seedee or Hubshee, generic terms applied by natives of India to Africans. One of the Nawab's ancestors laid siege to Bombay Castle in 1688-9, and the English, being unable to dislodge him, were compelled to seek the intervention of the Emperor Aurungzebe to secure the withdrawal of his forces.
