TWICE AR9UND THE VdRLD EDGAR ALLEN FORB I LIBRARY UNIVERSIT- ')<- CALIFUKNTT* SAf DIEGO * Twice Around the World BY THE SAME AUTHOR The Land of the White Helmet 356 pp. 56 illustrations and maps $130 net The summing up of a year's labori- ous work in the Dark Continent by a man trained to 'observe the significant and the entertaining facts of life. COMMENT A dash of Kipling, and a personal and literary charm that is Edgar Allen Forbes. Washington Star. The most interesting book on Africa since Henry M. Stanley's " Through the Dark Con- tinent." The Watchman. Instead of being verbally arrayed in pompous frock coat and silk hat of pseudo-literature, it comes to us garbed in the vernacular and looks us in the eye while it addresses us Everybody's Magazine. A new note in travel books. Unfamiliar Africa described by a man with eyes in his head and snappy English at his command. . . . He has written about it because he had something to say. And he says it with a colloquial incisiveness that is evidently spontaneous and refreshingly effective. J. B. Kerfoot in Life. Twice Around the World By EDGAR ALLEN FORBES Author of "The Land of the White Helmet" 'Coastwise cross-seas round the world and back again 1 NEW YORK CHICAGO TORONTO Fleming H. Revell Company LONDON AND EDINBURGH Copyright, 1912, by FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY New York: 158 Fifth Avenue Chicago: 125 N. Wabash Ave. Toronto: 25 Richmond St., W. London: 21 Paternoster Square Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street TO HER WHOSE FAREWELL CAME WITH THE GOLDEN SUNSET AT DIAMOND HARBOUR AND TO THE BOY SHE LEFT BEHIND PREFACE IN the old Dream Days, you remember " ah ! them was the happy days " you lay out under the summer sun and watched the fleecy clouds go sailing across the infinite blue. In the far distance, where the sky curved downward and dropped behind the line of green, you saw Your Ship your golden galleon freighted with its bounding hopes beating out to the open sea. Its gleaming topsail was bulging with the winds of Fortune as it sank below the horizon. And then you fell a-dreaming of the things that you should do with the golden guldens that should make real the dreams of youth on that gladsome day the day Your Ship came in! One of those early dreams was a cruise around the world, the world that then seemed so far away. Your fancy saw it as a skyline of minarets and pagodas and pinnacles, as a panorama of the yellow and the brown and the black in quaint and resplendent costumes, as a menagerie of elephants and camels and tigers. Your ear caught the call of the muezzin, the drone of the shorn priest beneath the tinkling temple bells, the clang of the cymbals in the Orient theatre, the jingle of the anklets in the dance hall, the piping of the cobra- charmer, the guttural growl of the camel, the hoarse trumpeting of the elephant, and the long, piercing note of the jungle-bird. To your nostrils came the smoke of incense, the perfume of sandalwood, the spice-laden breezes of emerald isles in summer seas. Oh, it was a wonderful world, and you would sail around it and see it all you, when Your Ship came in ! .Well, here it is the Voyage of your Dreams ! E. A. F. 5 REVEILLE STEAMSHIP "CLEVELAND" ir"* pE^?frf^ jjti \ji az * Awake, ye sleepers, large and small, The darkness flees into the west ; The Captain greets you, one and all, Awake, ye sleepers, from your rest! I'm very loth, my gentle friends, To summon you from pleasant dreams; But it is time you should arise, Awake ! The sun in gladness beams ! CONTENTS I. ONE WORLD-CRUISER TO ANOTHER .... 13 II. THE LOG OF A GLOBE-TROTTER .... 21 III. OH, LOOK WHO'S HERE ! ..... 35 IV. UNDER THE CASTLE OF HAMBURG .... 39 V. MADEIRA, VINTAGE OF ANTIQUITY . * . . 49 THE ORIENT VI. THE SEA OF DARING ADMIRALS .... 57 VII. IN THE SHADOW OF VESUVIUS . .... 69 VIII. THE GATEWAY OF DE LESSEPS . . 76 IX. THROUGH THE LAND OF GOSHEN .... 83 X. THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA .... 93 ACROSS INDIA XI. BOMBAY, PARSEE, AND KIPLING .... 97 XII. ACROSS INDIA WITH "KiM" IO 7 XIII. AFTERGLOW OF MOGHUL SPLENDOUR . . .119 XIV. WITHIN DELHI'S KASHMERE GATE . . . .127 XV. THE ANGEL OF THE CAWNPORE WELL . . . 135 XVI. THE BANNER ON LUCKNOW'S ROOF . . . . 139 XVII. "OLDEST OF EARTH'S CITIES" 147 XVIII. "THE CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT" . . .159 XIX. ON "THE ROOF OF THE WORLD" . . . .165 XX. BY THE OLD RANGOON PAGODA .... 173 FARTHEST EAST XXI. THE GATE TO THE UTTERMOST EAST . . .181 XXII. CROSSING THE EQUATORIAL LINE . . . .187 XXIII. IN THE MALAY ARCHIPELAGO 197 7 8 CONTENTS XXIV. INSULINDE'S EMERALD PARADISE . XXV. A NEW FLAG IN MANILA BAY . XXVI. FROM VICTORIA PEAK, HONG KONG XXVII. KOWLOON TO CANTON BY RAIL . XXVIII. IN THE NEW REPUBLIC OF CHINA ACROSS JAPAN XXIX. NAGASAKI, LAND OF BABIES XXX. CRUISING ON THE INLAND SEA . XXXI. KOBE, A JAPANESE HOBOKEN XXXII. KYOTO, THE SOUL OF JAPAN XXXIII. NARA, THE DEER-EST OF ALL XXXIV. A JAPANESE CONEY ISLAND XXXV. BY THE CASTLE OF NAGOYA XXXVI. THE WILES OF YOKOHAMA . XXXVII. BEFORE BUDDHA AT KAMAKURA . XXXVIII. IN THE CITY OF THE MIKADO XXXIX. FUN IN A JAPANESE INN XL. AT THE TOMB OF THE SHOGUNS OCEAN WA VES XLI. HIGH JINKS ON HIGH SEAS XLII. OUR MID-PACIFIC PARADISE XLIII. "!F I HAD ONLY KNOWN!" . XLIV. GOLDEN GATE AND SANDY HOOK 207 209 321 225 233 243 247 249 251 255 257 261 263 267 269 277 287 291 297 307 313 INDEX S. S. CLEVELAND IN MANILA BAY (Liibeck photo) Frontispiece S. S. CLEVELAND UNDER FULL STEAM AHEAD ... 20 GLOBE-TROTTERS IN THE ROOF-GARDEN (Liibeck photo) . 20 OFFICERS OF THE S. S. CLEVELAND (Liibeck photo) . . 26 MR. A. MARTINI, PROVIDER OF JOYFUL FOOD ... 34 MR. C. LODY, MANAGER OF ACROSS-!NDIA PARTIES . . 34 MR. C. SCHERER, SECOND IN COMMAND OF THE CRUISE . 34 THE REISEBUREAU ON AN IDLE DAY (Liibeck photo) . . 42 MADEIRA: WHY BLAME COLUMBUS FOR FLIRTING? . . 50 MADEIRA: "HOME WAS NEVER LIKE THIS!" ... 50 GIBRALTAR: THE ROCK IN THE GREY OF DAWN ... 56 GIBRALTAR: THE NEUTRAL GROUND AND LINEA ... 56 CAIRO: THE FIRST GLIMPSE OF THE SPHINX .... 82 CAIRO: SEEING THE PYRAMIDS BY SUNLIGHT .... 82 CAIRO: BUXOM SORCERESSES OF THE NILE .... 88 CAIRO: WHAT WOULD RAMESES THINK OF THIS? ... 88 CAIRO: THE ROCKY UPHILL ROAD AT CHEOPS ... 92 BOMBAY: TAJ MAHAL PALACE AND APOLLO BUNDER . . 96 BOMBAY: LOOKING DOWN FROM MALABAR HILL ... 96 BOMBAY: VULTURES AT THE TOWERS OF SILENCE . . . 106 BOMBAY: AUTHENTIC BIRTHPLACE OF MR. KIPLING . . 106 BENARES: "LITTLE FRIEND OF ALL THE WORLD" . .no CALCUTTA: KIM AND A FAQUIR OF THE TAKSALI GATE . . no AGRA: FIRST GLIMPSES FROM THE ARCHWAY .... 118 AGRA: THE TAJ MAHAL FROM THE GREAT GATEWAY . .118 AGRA: RAJPUTANA BAND PLAYING "SUWANEE RIVER" . . 122 AGRA: IT HAPPENED IN THE CITY OF THE TAJ . . . 122 DELHI: TRAIN-TIME ON THE DELHI PLATFORM . . . 126 DELHI: PRAYER-MEETING AT THE JUMMA MASJID . . . 126 CAWNPORE: THE ANGEL OF THE RESURRECTION . . . 134 LUCKNOW: A WATER-CARRIER AT THE STATION . . . 138 LUCKNOW: RESIDENCY AND THE BANNER OF ENGLAND . . 138 LUCKNOW: HOSAINABAD, "THE PALACE OF LIGHTS" . . 143 10 ILLUSTRATIONS BENARES: WEIGHING WOOD FOR THE BURNING . . . 146 BENARES; "Wno's NEXT?" ALONG THE GANGES . . . 146 SARNATH: WHERE BUDDHA BEGAN TO TURN THE WHEEL . 150 BENARES: "THE LAST INCARNATION" 154 BENARES: THE END OF ANOTHER CYCLE . . . .154 BENARES: RIDING THE MAHARAJAH'S ELEPHANTS . . .156 CALCUTTA: VENUS EMERGING FROM THE BATH . . . 158 CALCUTTA: GLOBE-TROTTERS UNDER THE BANYAN TREE . 160 CALCUTTA: SOOTHSAYER PEERING INTO FRAWLEY'S PAST . 160 CALCUTTA: THE GRAND HOTEL, FACING THE MAIDAN . . 162 DARJEELING: "HIMALAYAS FLUSHED IN MORNING GOLD" . 164 DARJEKLING: TRAIN ON THE HIMALAYAN RAILWAY . . 164 DARJEELING: THE SUNRISE AT TIGER HILL .... 168 DARJEELING: OUT FOR A "(DANDY" RIDE .... 168 RANGOON: A GONDOLA ON THE RANGOON RIVER . . .172 RANGOON: A MAIDEN OF THE RANGOON STREETS . . .172 RANGOON: A FAQUIR AT THE FOOT OF BUDDHA . . . 172 RANGOON: "So MANY TEMPLES BUT ONLY ONE GOD" . . 176 RANGOON: FLIPPING THE LIGHT FANTASTIC FINGER . .178 RANGOON: THE MAN FROM SUPERIOR FEELS AT HOME . .178 SINGAPORE: IN THE SHADE OF THE ESPLANADE . . . 180 SINGAPORE: THE RAILWAY STATION AT JOHORE . . .180 SINGAPORE: FRIENDS OF YOUR CRUISING DAYS . . . 182 SINGAPORE; A KEEPER OF THE KING'S PEACE . . . 182 EQUATOR: THE CLEVELAND'S CREW IN REGALIA . . 186 EQUATOR: REMOVING THE TAINT OF THE NORTH . . .186 JAVA: THE LITTLE PEACHERINAS AT BUITENZORG . . . 196 JAVA: A GROUP OF MALAYS IN SUNDAY CLOTHES . . . 196 JAVA: DANCING GIRLS' IDEA OF A WILD TIME . . . 200 JAVA; IN SEARCH OF THE XANTHCERRHCEA FREISSI . . 206 MANILA: BASEBALL HAS FOLLOWED THE FLAG . . . 208 MANILA: THE LITTLE BROWN BROTHER IN WHITE . . 208 MANILA: "JusT GIVE MY REGARDS TO BROADWAY!" . . 212 MANILA: LITTLE BROWN SISTER ACROSS THE SEA . . . 216 HONG KONG: THE OUTLOOK FROM VICTORIA PEAK . . 220 HONG KONG: THE INCLINED RAILWAY UP THE PEAK . . 220 CANTON: A STREET IN THE HEART OF THE CITY . . . 224 CANTON: CITIZENS OF THE FIRST ORIENTAL REPUBLIC . . 232 CANTON: CHINA'S WELCOME TO THE AMERICANS . . . 236 NAGASAKI: SISTER FULLY DRESSED FOR THE STREET . . 242 ILLUSTRATIONS 11 INLAND SEA: JAPANESE FISHERMAN AT SUNSET . . . 246 INLAND SEA: LOOKING THROUGH THE SCRAGGLY PINES . 246 KOBE; JAPANESE CHILDREN IN NEW YEAR'S DRESS . . 248 KYOTO: A BUDDHIST TEMPLE DRAPED IN SNOW . . . 250 NARA: A LITTLE DARLING OF THE GODS .... 254 OSAKA; ARISTOCRATIC BEAUTIES OUT FOR A SPIN . . . 256 YOKOHAMA: THE JAPANESE GIRL AS SHE Is NOT . . . 262 KAMAKURA: "BE GENTLE WHEN THE 'HEATHEN' PRAY" . 266 TOKYO: UNDERNEATH THE CHERRY BLOSSOMS . . . 268 TOKYO: MR. AISAKU HAYASHI, OF THE IMPERIAL . . . 272 TOKYO: THE LITTLE HEADS ON THE MATTING . . . 276 OSAKA: A JAPANESE INN AMONG THE PINES .... 276 TOKYO: "SAYONARA SINCE IT MUST BE So" . . . 282 TOKYO: A DE-LUXE ROOM IN A JAPANESE INN . . . 282 NIKKO: THE YELLOW MAN ALSO HAS A BURDEN . . . 286 ANTIPODES: THE COMMITTEE POSES FOR THE CAMERA . . 290 ANTIPODES: THE WILD RACE FOR THE BISCUIT . . . 290 ANTIPODES; THE WINNERS THREADING THE NEEDLE . . 294 ANTIPODES: HAIR-DRESSING A SOLEMN CEREMONY! . . 294 HONOLULU: A BEAUTY OF THE OLD KANAKA DAYS . . 296 HONOLULU: A HULA OF THE WIDE AND STARRY SKY . . 302 HONOLULU: SWEET GIRL GRADUATES OF MANY TYPES . . 304 S. S. CLEVELAND: THE VOYAGE OF YOUR DREAMS . . 312 MAPS THE ROUTE OF THE CLEVELAND CRUISE . . End papers THE FIRST AND THE LATEST WORLD-CRUISE . . -13 LANDMARKS OF THE STRAIT OF GIBRALTAR . . . .61 To CAIRO FROM PORT SAID AND FROM SUEZ . . . .75 JACOB'S LADDER UP THE HIMALAYAS 169 ^N>U /.%,. ***\. ^r*^ JT jps^fe^^ VN s: u^O FROM ONE WORLD-CRUISER TO ANOTHER NEW YORK, October i, 1912. Captain Sebastian Del Cano, c/o Commander F. Magellan, General Delivery. MY DEAR SEBASTIAN : Pardon the liberty I take in thus addressing you. I have for so long been accustomed to speak of the Commander as " Magellan " or " Ferdi- nand " that I fall naturally into negligee in addressing his First Officer. I am writing this as an apology for a great wrong that I have done to your memory a wrong of which I have been wholly unconscious until now, when I have myself circumnavigated the globe twice and for 13 14 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD that reason acquired a keener interest in the musty records of the seven (plus) seas. It started back there in the little schoolhouse on the hill. Teacher told me that Magellan was the first man to circumnavigate the map and I had been brought up to believe everything she told me, even if it did not always tally with the answer in the back of the book. (I have learned about school-teachers in these later years.) And so I have gone through life praising Ferdinand's daring and seamanship, and holding him up to the young. Here, I have said, was a man who gritted his teeth in one supreme effort and got his birthday into the list of dates that all school-children should memorize the night before the examination papers are to be filled out. But I now find, to my amazement, that Ferdinand did not circumnavigate the globe at all! Of course his intentions were good, but in the latitude of New York intentions do not count for much unless the goods come along in the same delivery. Some early historian took it for granted that he would have girdled the globe if he had not been killed in the Philippines, and so entered the full amount on the credit side of his account. This was very kind of him, but it can hardly be called good bookkeeping. Nobody knows just what would have happened if Magellan had been lucky (or unlucky) enough to get away from the Philippines, and had not left it to you to bring the Vittoria, back into port. He might have run the boat upon a coral reef down on the Borneo coast and disappeared from history before he got his ONE WORLD-CRUISER TO ANOTHER 15 anchor into the composing-room. Or he might have lost the compass overboard and swung back the way he came. Or he might have married one of those little brown sisters across the sea and become the admiral of a fleet of fishing dayaks, instead of finishing the job so superbly as you did. Now you can understand, Sebastian, that I would not take away one jot or tittle of the glory that came to him from that first world-cruise. My grievance arises solely from the fact that I have been deceived into bestowing all my praise upon Ferdinand, whereas a large share of it belongs to you. Magellan was a great man of the sea one of the greatest that ever lived but he did not circumnavigate the globe. You were the No. i man to do that but I have never heard any rising young Demosthenes mention the name of Del Cano in his graduating speech. I can assure you that I feel this injustice keenly and that I shall bring it to the attention of the ship-reporters. The last part of your name sounds very much like a Latin word in a sign that says " Beware of the dog! " and the historians have certainly treated you like one. At the same time I cannot help wondering, Sebas- tian, if you really were the first man to get all the way around the world. When you went sailing grandly into Seville, you remember, you were stand- ing on the bridge of the Vittoria, so that every senorita could see you without eye-strain. But was there not an A. B., clad only in whiskers and in trousers made out of an old " slicker," standing up front at the 16 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD anchor chain? If so, he must have crossed the line about three seconds ahead of you. But we will let that pass. Columbus and Magellan, you and WE this is the proper way for historians to head the list of great navigators. I have had lofty statues of Christopher and Ferdinand pointed out to me here and yonder, but I have heard nothing about statues of you and us. Their names are in the index of every school history while yours and ours appear only in the passenger-list as Among Those Present. Surely something should be done about this. I have been looking over your map of the world- cruise, Captain, and I see that it was a great deal wetter than ours. You included South America in your itinerary but you didn't get to see the Sphinx by moonlight. I am also surprised that Ferdinand did not take you by way of Honolulu. That would have broken that 98-day trip on the Pacific, and our experi- ence with this ocean is that the more you break it the better. Besides, there is a Promotion Committee at Honolulu that hangs roses about your neck and other- wise proves its fitness for its high office. You also missed the chance of a lifetime, Sebastian, when you hurried south-westward from the Philip- pines instead of going around by Japan. You might have received a medal from the Yokohama Chamber of Commerce, and had an interview published in the Tokyo Shimbun. Then, on your way home, you could have made the Overland Trip across India and had something impressive to tell the folks at Seville. That ONE WORLD-CRUISER TO ANOTHER 17 is the big show of the whole world-cruise, and I don't understand why you missed it. The King might have given you another medal if you had gone up to see the sunrise on Tiger Hill on a morning that was not foggy. Surely you were not the kind of a navigator to be turned back from the Red Sea route because the Suez Canal happened to be full of hot sand in the year 1521. In looking over the log of the Vittoria, I see that you had a much rougher time than the Cleveland. Your sole fresh-meat supply on the Pacific seems to have come from the rat-trap, and your dried beef from the raw-hide coverings of the sails and from your last-year's shoes. I note also the item of sawdust on your bill-of-fare, and am a little puzzled to think how your chef served it. Was it a break fast- food or a dessert ? We had none on the Cleveland menu. But there is one thing that I can appreciate your inconvenience from the scarcity of fresh water. I often experienced it myself when developing films. But your cruise differed from ours in the requirement that water was to be used for drinking purposes. We saved our fresh water by the simple provision of a grill-room and a small booth labelled " Zum durstigen Elephanten" But the management of your cruise had some de- cided advantages over ours. I see that whenever any- body became peevish and used strong language to the Tourist Bureau, you had only to hold up three fingers. The offender was then promptly strung up by the thumbs until he was sorry that he said it. And if any- 18 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD body objected to the quantity of cubic feet in his state- room, you could lock him in it and forget to send him his sawdust and bouillon. My recollection is that Ferdinand once even cut off the heads of some persons who objected to the way the cruise was being managed. The navigation laws have been changed since then. This explains why the Cleveland finished both cruises with the same number of heads that it started with. I see by the press clippings that your little wind- jammer made the same big splash that we did in every port that is, in every one that had its harbour cleaned out deep enough for us to get within sight of the dock. The same bunch of natives that you mention was lined up on the bank when we came along. This was natural, for they had never seen a ship as large as ours in their little harbours before. Why, even at San Francisco the police reserves had to be called out to keep 10,000 curious natives from swamping our boat. But you had a much finer finish than we did. When we sidled up to the last port and saw the crowd of newspaper men, we anticipated a reception like yours but all that the reporters wanted to know was, Who got married on the cruise ? Nobody pressed upon us a coat-of-arms or pinned medals on us, except at Yoko- hama and there the honour could be traced to the fact that we were expected to pay 300 per cent, more for all the kimonos we bought in the bazaars. Why, when we came in to San Francisco and New York, the vexatious folks who had old bills against us actually asked for the money, just as if we had not ONE WORLD-CRUISER TO ANOTHER 19 been around the world at all ! But, speaking in heart- felt seriousness, Sebastian, it surely is a great comfort, even for no days, to be " away back from everybody that ye owe any money to." If that fact were properly appreciated, world-cruises would soon become plentiful and much longer. You would have felt quite at home, Captain, if you had been with us on the Cleveland. It is the same old world that you went around. The native is still wear- ing the same clothes " nothing much before, an' rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind " and he dresses his hair in the same careless fashion every full moon. He also lives and loves and lies in the same reckless manner, but possibly with more ease and grace. But the world has moved along some. You cannot now exchange a vest-pocket mirror for half a quart of emeralds in any port the Cleveland visited. Nor is there now any danger of a warrior pounding you on the head with a bludgeon and taking away your jack- knife. They do the trick quite differently now, through a member of the fraternity known as a " private guide." You engage his services for a tour of the historic points of interest and he takes you straight to thirteen jewel-merchants, eleven silk stores, and sixteen other places where money may be spent in quantity. And when you have paid 340 rupees for a scarf-pin that would cost nine cents in New York, the guide is peevish if you do not pay him a 10 per cent, commission for having led you to the bargain-counter. When this Oriental hears that a party of five hun- dred is coming along he begins to plan how to spend 20 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD all that money that he is going to make on fat com- missions. But it is a sad day for that eternally springing hope when a resolute manager lines up the carriages in front of the hotel and the guide gets his orders to follow the horses in front of him. Only the comforts of religion can sustain a native in face of a bitter disappointment like that. When I write again, I shall tell you of the tre- mendous changes that have taken place in Manila since you and Ferd were there. In several places along the Escolta, for instance, you can now buy real ice-cream soda. I find no mention of it in the log of the Vittoria. Sincerely yours, EDGAR ALLEN FORBES. P.S. I notice in the Seville papers that His Majesty bestowed upon you a coat-of-arms, consisting of a globe and the motto " Primus Circiimdedisti Me " which seems to mean : " You are the first fellow that ever got around me." Since there is no copyright notice on the design, I am adopting it as a family crest, merely changing the word " Primus " to " Bis " which I am told on good authority means " Twice." THE LOG II THE LOG OF A GLOBE-TROTTER EOK on your inside hat-band and you will see a small label 6%, perhaps. Look also on that part of your collar which embraces the back of your neck and you will see another mine is 15^2. These two statistics are not of the remotest interest to the Sicilian who renovates my hat or to the Mon- golian who cracks the flaps of my collar in ironing it but they are of tremendous importance to me when I go to the bazaar to buy new ones and the clerk asks, "What number?" Now the person who buys (or, more likely, borrows) this book to fire the imagination or to gain a broader culture will find this chapter of as little interest as the " Situations Wanted " columns of a newspaper are to the woman who is looking for " Apartments To Let Unfurnished." That is why it is in smaller type. But to world-cruisers who are back at the old stand, it has the permanent interest of the White House Cook- book. When, for instance, the Queen Bee wants to know quickly whether she passed Stromboli just be- fore going into Rangoon, or whether it was chillier in the Red Sea than on the Equator, or whether Hono- lulu is three hundred or thirty thousand miles from 21 22 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Yokohama, then this chapter will rise into great popu- larity. Incidentally, it may help with the revision of a few diaries. And that happy man who is now preparing to globe- trot this is the chapter which he will paste in his hat. Then, when he sees a pilot coming up out of the muddy water at the mouth of the Hooghly and wonders if he will have time to run to his stateroom and change his collar before landing, he will look in his hat and dis- cover that he has about twenty hours before the anchor goes splashing into Diamond Harbour. For much of the official information herein, all of us are much indebted to the unfailing kindness of Chief Officer Kruse, who reeled it off patiently from the Log- Book of the Cleveland. It is therefore more accurate than if I had sat up nights to enter it in my notebook, and also more nearly complete. For the lamentable fact that the chapter contains so few personal details about certain passengers whom you know, you must put the blame on the publisher. He has insisted upon inserting in the contract a clause which enjoins me from writing " anything scandalous or libelous, or any other injurious or hurtful matter or thing " a fatal limitation on the log of a world- cruise ! This chapter will therefore be of small interest to the Grand Jury or to the Sewing Circle. DREAM VOYAGE No. I EASTWARD NEW YORK, Oct. 21, 1911. Raining cats and dogs and farewell kisses. Great time getting over to Hoboken with extra bundles that wouldn't go into the trunks. Ma fretful and talkative; Pa ain't saying nothing, but he looks it. THE LOG OF A GLOBE-TROTTER 23 HOBOKEN, Oct. 21. Last "All ashore!" at 9:30. Percy kiss- ing Flossie good-bye until 9:50; then wireless kisses from the moist dock. The clock strikes four bells. Somebody gives the whistle-cord four long pulls to let the world know who's com- ing. Band on the promenade deck plays the sailors' national anthem: "Muss Ich Denn, Muss Ich Denn." We back out and start the usual contest of seeing which side can keep the hand- kerchief waving longest. Somebody on the dock . whistling, " My Wife's Gone to the Country, Hooray ! Hooray ! " Sudden commotion on the pier! A tall, dark man excitedly waving an unpaid bill and mussing up his hair. Two hundred passengers at the Cleveland's rail recognize the bill and wave " Auf wiedersehn!" AT SEA, Oct. 21-28. Reading Percy's steamer-letters. Sizing up one another. Athletic sports with deck-stewards over loca- tion of steamer-chairs. Busy days for the Hall of Refresh- ment. MADEIRA, Oct. 29. Arrived Funchal at 7 A.M. Sunday, but Madeira is at the pier instead of at church. Senoritas look in- teresting, but Mamma is strictly on the job. After joy-riding in ox-sleds, sailed at 3 P.M. GIBRALTAR, Oct. 31. Glorious dawn and brilliant sunrise came up from behind the Moroccan mountains as we came in from the southwest. Anchored in the Bay at 8 A.M. Landed in large tender. Sailed at i P.M. VILLEFRANCHE, Nov. 2. Passed along the waterfront of Nice at 3 P.M. The Promenade des Anglais decorated with American flags. Anchored at 4 P.M. Landing in small row-boats. Everybody at Monte Carlo as soon as the doors were open. Plenty of winning but most of us stayed in the game too long. Wise little Quakeress from Philadelphia puts down a dollar and picks up thirty at the first dash then quits ! Sailed from Villefranche Nov. 3 at n A.M. MEDITERRANEAN, Nov. 3-7. Nov. 3, passed Corsica (Na- poleon's birthplace) and Elba (place of exile), and Monte 24 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Cristo about 8 P.M. Nov. 4, volcano of Stromboli at 5 130 P.M. Between Scylla and Charybdis at 8:05 and entered Strait of Messina. Messina at 8:25. Passed Mt. JEtna. too late. PORT SAID, Nov. 7. Another magnificent dawn, but nobody on deck to see it. Damiette Light at 5:30 A.M. Anchored near the Canal Offices at 9 A.M. First intimate acquaintance with the Oriental at home. Nothing much to see here except from the ship. Special trains to Cairo left at 1:20 P.M. and 2:35 P.M. Five hours' run along the Canal to Ismailia and then through the Land of Goshen. Dinner at Shepheard's and the Con- tinental. CAIRO, Nov. 7-10. Busy programme but " independent action " was busier. Full moon at the Pyramids arranged by the Tourist Bureau! Left Cairo Nov. 10 at 7:40 and 8:15 A.M..- Hot ride to Ismailia and then along the Canal to Suez, arriving at 12 130 and i :i5 P.M. To steamer in large scows. Sailed at 3 P.M. " CLEVELAND " THROUGH THE CANAL. Sailed Nov. 8 at 7 A.M. Arrived Ismailia at 5 P.M. and changed pilot. Bit- ter Lakes at 7 P.M. Bay of Suez at i A.M. on Nov. 9. Run of 86 sea-miles in 18 hours. RED SEA, Nov. 10. Sinai passed about dark. Nov. n, the Three Brothers Islands at 8 A.M. Daedalus rock at 2 P.M. Northerly wind. Nov. 12, calm at night. Nov. 13, passed Jibel Tair (a white rock with thousands of birds) on the port side about 8 A.M. Mocha at 6:30. Through Strait of Perim about 10 P.M. and entered Gulf of Aden. Nov. 14, about 6 A.M., passed Aden at a distance. BOMBAY, Nov. 19. Anchored in front of the Taj Mahal hotel at 10 A.M. Agra parties landed first, after lunch. Across-India Party last, at 4 P.M. AGRA PARTY. Two special trains left Bombay Nov. 19 at 9:20 and 10 P.M. Arrived Agra Nov. 21 at 6:30 and 7:30 A.M. Left for Bombay that night at 9 and 9:35 P.M. Arrived Bombay Nov. 23 at 7:45 and 8:55 A.M. Sailed for Colombo at 4 P.M. THE LOG OF A GLOBE-TROTTER 25 (Note. On the Eastward Cruise, the Cleveland remains at Bombay for about 4 l /> days in order that those who do not cross India and yet wish to see the Taj Mahal may make the round- trip to Agra. The ship then goes to Ceylon (which the Across- India party must miss), and thence to Calcutta, where all the passengers again come together.) " CLEVELAND " TO COLOMBO. Nov. 23, sailed at 4 P.M. along the coast. Arrived Colombo Nov. 26 at 6 A.M. Landed passengers for shore excursion and took on coal, ice, fruits, and provisions. Sailed Nov. 28 at noon, around the coast of Ceylon. Entered Bay of Bengal on the morn- ing of Nov. 29. Anchored at pilot steamer on Dec. i at noon. Waited two hours for tide. At 2 P.M. went at full speed across first bar. At 5 P.M. anchored to await daylight before crossing the other two bars. Sailed again on Dec. 2 at 5 :3O A.M. Passed Eden Bar at 6 A.M. and Oakland Bar at 6:30. Anchored at Diamond Harbour at 8:15 A.M. ACROSS-INDIA PARTY. Left Bombay in special train of sleep- ers on Nov. 23 at u A.M. Arrived Agra Nov. 24 at 10:25 P- M - and left Nov. 25 at n P.M. Arrived Delhi Nov. 26 at 5:40 A.M. and left at 9 P.M. Cawnpore, Nov. 27 at 6:20 A.M. and left at noon. Lucknow, Nov. 27 at 1 125 P.M. and left at 10 :o5 P.M. Benares, Nov. 28 at 6 -.50 A.M. and left Nov. 29 at 3 120 P.M. Calcutta, Nov. 30 at 6:35 A.M. Left Calcutta Nov. 30 at 4:12 P.M. and reached Raita Ghat at 8 P.M. Thanksgiving turkey (arranged by Mr. Lody by wire from Agra a week before) at dinner on the Ganges River while crossing to Sara Ghat. Left Sara in sleepers at 9:10, arriving at Siliguri Dec. i at 5:12 A.M. Transferred to Himalayan Railway and reached Darjeeling at noon. Remained two nights and left on Dec. 3 at i P.M. Transferred at Siliguri to sleepers at 8 P.M. and reached the Ganges at 4:05 A.M. of Dec. 4. Breakfast while crossing on river steamer. Left Raita Ghat at 5 135 A.M. and arrived at Calcutta at 10:25 A.M. Left Calcutta Dec. 5 at 4 P.M. and reached Diamond Harbour at nightfall. Difficult transfer to the Cleveland on account of the rushing tide. Sailed Dec. 6 at 6 A.M. No stops for bars. Pilot left at 2 P.M. 26 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD RANGOON, Dec. 9. Anchored at i A.M. at the mouth of the Rangoon River, near Elephant Point, and took pilot. Up the river at 4 A.M., passing the Point at 4:25. Anchored in the river about three miles from the city at 6 A.M. Difficult land- ing, with no tenders later than 5 P.M. Sailed Dec. 10 at 4 P.M. Passed Elephant Point at 5 130 and dropped pilot at 6 :3O. SINGAPORE, Dec. 14. Anchored at Sultan Shoal at 3 A.M. Docked at Borneo Pier at 9 A.M. Half of party proceeded at once to Johore by train and ferry ; the second battalion went on following day. Sailed Dec. 15 at 4 P.M. through Rhio Strait. Dropped pilot at 5 P.M. EQUATOR, Dec. 15. Triton came aboard at 9 P.M. with mes- sage from Neptune. Crossed the Line about n P.M. Dec. 16 at 9:30 entered Straits of Banca. Neptune celebration planned for 2 P.M. i :55, suicide of a passenger and rescue of the body by another. 2:15 P.M., full speed ahead. B ATA VIA, Dec. 17. Arrived at 6 A.M. at harbour of Tandjong Priok. Half of party by train to Weltevreden, while the other half took train for Buitenzorg. This programme reversed on following day. Sailed Dec. 18 at 7 P.M. Recrossed the Equator. No Neptune ceremonies at either crossing on account of the recent loss of a passenger, but diplomas were distributed. MANILA, Dec. 23. Passed Corregidor at 4:09 A.M. and an- chored at 6 :3O. Sailed on Christmas Eve at 4 P.M. Passed Cor- regidor at 6:18. Christmas dinner, with turkey, cranberry sauce, and plum-pudding, in the China Sea. HONG KONG, Dec. 26. Took pilot aboard at n A.M. and an- chored to buoy at ii 130. Divided into four parties for river trip to Canton. Sailed Dec. 29 at noon and dropped pilot at 12:45. China Sea rough. NAGASAKI, Jan. i. Took pilot at i P.M. and anchored in the bay for medical inspection. Made fast to buoy in the harbour at 2:30. Cold and rainy. Began coaling Jan. 2 at 7 A.M. and finished Jan. 3 at i P.M. 5,400 tons. Jan. 2, Mayor's reception THE LOG OF A GLOBE-TROTTER 27 and American Consul's dinner. Sailed Jan. 3 at 2 P.M., dropping pilot at 2:20. The Inland Sea pilot remains on board. INLAND SEA, Jan. 4. Arrived at the entrance about midnight and anchored until dawn. Entered at 7 A.M. and passed Shimo- noseki at 8. Rainy and cold. KOBE, Jan. 5. Arrived at pilot station at 2 A.M. and anchored until dawn. Entered harbour at 7:15 and anchored to buoy at 8. Sailed for Yokohama Jan. 8 at 6:30 A.M. Side-trips to Osaka, Kyoto, and Nara. Across- Japan Party started from here. YOKOHAMA, Jan. 9. Arrived 5 130 A.M. and anchored to buoy at 9. All sorts of parties, large and small, for side-trips to Kamakura, Tokyo, and Nikko. Sailed Jan. 14 at 4 P.M. PACIFIC OCEAN. Jan. 16-18, rough sea with westerly wind, calming down on the evening of Jan. 18. Rough again on the I9th, with a very high swell. Remember it? ANTIPODES, Jan. 20. Crossed the iSoth Meridian about 4 P.M. on " Saturday No. i." High Jinks in afternoon. Went to bed Saturday night and woke up on Saturday morning " Saturday No. 2." HONOLULU, Jan. 24. Diamond Head at 5 130 A.M. Took pilot at 6. Entered harbour at 7:30. Pilot dropped dead on the bridge at 8:10 and the ship swerved against the U.S.S. Colorado. Docked at 8:50 and immediately began having a swell time. Sailed regretfully on Jan. 25, at 5 P.M. Passed Diamond Head at 5 150 P.M. SAN FRANCISCO, Jan. 31. The lights of the homeland at n P.M. Took pilot and passed through the Golden Gate at 11:50. Anchored in bay shortly after midnight. Violent efforts re- quired to keep California passengers from wading ashore. Docked Feb. i and began celebrating. San Francisco making a big fuss over us. The Across the United States Party, com- posed mainly of Europeans, starts from here. 28 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD DREAM VOYAGE No. 2 WESTWARD SAN FRANCISCO, Feb. 6. Bright day but atmosphere humid with farewell kisses. The clock strikes 2 P.M. and the whistle officer pulls the cord four times. The band begins: "Muss Ich Denn, Muss Ich Dennf" and we again start the contest of see- ing who can keep the kerchief agitated the longest. The Quartermaster's tug, Slocum, follows us out, with the Mayor, the Exposition officials, and the newspapers. At the Golden Gate the bugler on the Slocum sounds " Taps " and the band responds with " Stars and Stripes Forever." We pass out the Gate with the gulls following out into a chilly mist. The ship hits a rolling sea and begins to have fun with the pas- sengers' stomachs. AT SEA, Feb. 6-n. Genevieve reading Clarence's steamer- letter. Ship historian sizes up the crowd on the promenade deck and makes audible comparisons with Cruise No. i. Athletic sports with deck-stewards over location of steamer-chairs. Hall of Refreshment very busy. Uncle Dan and the Man from Superior solemnly decide that sea-travel is not what the literature says it is. Many unkind words about the Pacific Ocean roll about on the deck. The Shriners organize with so much fuss that everybody forgets his stomach. Lincoln's Birthday celebrated on Feb. 12, with " Tur- key a la Sam Ward." Off Diamond Head to-night. HONOLULU, Feb. 13. Entered at 6 A.M. and made fast to pier at 8:00. Ship boarded by Hawaiian girls loaded with wreaths of flowers. The Man from Superior gets three (wreaths). Promotion Committee starts us off with a rush. Big hula-hula dance at night. A dip in the surf of Waikiki on Feb. 14 before sailing at 5 P.M. " Gee! But This Is (Not) a Lonesome Town! " THE PACIFIC. Feb. 15, the ocean shows how perfect its be- haviour can be, and Uncle Dan begins to take nourishment and hold it. ANTIPODES, Feb. 18. Crossed iSoth Meridian about noon Sun- day. To-morrow is to be " Monday what ain't." Go to bed to- night and sleep until Tuesday morning! High Jinks Wednes- day, in a rolling sea. Washington's Birthday on Feb. 22, with THE LOG OF A GLOBE-TROTTER 29 "Soup a la George Washington." Effervescent oratory after dinner pleases the orators much. YOKOHAMA, Feb. 26. Arrived at 5 A.M. Docked at 8:30. Parties leaving daily for Kamakura, Tokyo, and Nikko. The Across-Japan Party left ship here and will rejoin the other pas- sengers before sailing from Kobe. ACROSS JAPAN. Left Tokyo i P.M., arriving Nikko 6:25 in pouring rain. Left Nikko Feb. 29 for Tokyo. Kamakura on Mch. i. Mch. 4, picturesque ride across Japan, reaching Nagoya at 4:12. Left Nagoya Mch. 5, arriving Nara i P.M. Left at 6 P.M. and arrived Kyoto at 7. To Kobe at 5 130, Mch. 6, and went on board. Mch. 7 to Osaka for the Coney Island show at night. Left Mch. 8 at 9:30, arriving Kobe at n. Sailed at 5 P.M. "CLEVELAND" TO KOBE. Left Yokohama Mch. 3 at S P.M. Anchored to buoy in Kobe Harbour Mch. 5 at i A.M. INLAND SEA, Mch. 8. Entered soon after leaving Kobe. Passed Shimonoseki on Mch. 9 at 3 P.M. and out into the open sea. NAGASAKI, Mch. 10. Arrived 7 A.M. Fast to buoy at 8. Coaled until 7 P.M. Reception in afternoon by American Con- sul Deichman. Japanese dinner and geisha dance at night. Uncle Dan willing to stay here indefinitely! Mch. n, Consul's dinner-party, followed by dance on board in his honour. Sailed Mch. 12 at 7 A.M. HONG KONG, Mch. 15. Reached pilot station at 10 A.M., after a rough passage of the China Sea. Fast to buoy at u. News of riots in Canton. Passengers go to Macao instead. CANTON, Mch. 15. Left Kowloon at 2 P.M. by train. Arrived Canton 7 P.M. Mch. 16, seeing Canton alone. Left on 2 P.M. train, arriving Hong Kong at 7 P.M. Sailed for Manila Mch. 18 at 2 P.M. Mch. 18-19, vaccinations! MANILA, Mch. 20. Passed Corregidor at 10:56 A.M. and made fast to Pier 5 at i :2O. Extra day in Manila. Side-trips on the Pasig. Sailed Mch. 22 at 4 P.M. Corregidor at 6:27. Beautiful SO TWICE AROUND THE WORLD sunset. Passengers begin to sleep on deck, and life loses all charms for the deck-stewards. EQUATOR, Mch. 25. Passed along coast of Borneo. Sunset of burnished gold. Triton came aboard at 9 P.M. Crossed the Line at 10 P.M. High Jinks on Mch. 26, in afternoon. BATAVIA, Mch. 27. Tandjong Priok at 6 A.M. Landed at 8. Special train to Buitenzorg at 8:16, arriving at 10:30. Left at 3:12 in the daily rain and returned to ship. Mch. 28, half-hour ride to Weltevreden, returning at 5:30 P.M. Sailed at 7 P.M. Recrossed the Equator Mch. 29 at n P.M. SINGAPORE, Mch. 30. Arrived at 6 A.M. and docked ai 7. Special train for Johore at 9:15, arriving 10:30. Left at 12:15 and returned to Singapore. Sailed Mch. 31 at 5 P.M. Moon- light and deck beds both popular. RANGOON, April 4. Arrived at Elephant Point April 3 at 9 P.M. and anchored. Entered Rangoon River April 4 at 5 A.M. Anchored off Rangoon at 7 A.M. Sailed April 5, at 3 P.M. Elephant Point at 5 and dropped pilot at 6. EASTER SUNDAY, April 7. Hot and sticky, 14,000 miles from millinery parade. DIAMOND HARBOUR, April 7. Arrived at the Hooghly April 7 at 5 P.M. Anchored until n. Over the first bar at midnight and anchored at i A.M. Off again on April 8 at 12:30 P.M., pass- ing second bar at 1 :30 and third at 2 :45. Anchored in Diamond Harbour at 5 P.M. Double rainbow in evening. Darjeeling and Benares parties landed April 9 at 8:30. Across-India Party at 1:30. " CLEVELAND " TO COLOMBO. Sailed April 13 at 5 A.M. Passed first bar at 6:30 and the other two without delay. Dropped pilot at noon. Arrived Colombo April 17 at 9 A.M. (Caught in squall here.) Sailed April 19 at 9 P.M. and arrived Bombay April 22 at 8 A.M. THE LOG OF A GLOBE-TROTTER 31 ACROSS-INDIA PARTY. Landed at Diamond Harbour at i P.M. April 9. Picturesque ride of two hours to Calcutta. Left Cal- cutta April ii at 4:40 P.M. for Darjeeling. Furious storm en route. Raita Ghat at 8 P.M. and transferred to river steamer, with dinner while crossing. Left Sara Ghat in sleepers at 9:30. Early breakfast at Siliguri on April 12 and transferred to Himalayan Railway. Breakfast at Kurseong and arrival in Darjeeling at noon. Left Darjeeling April 14 at 3:30 P.M. and transferred to sleepers at Siliguri at 9 P.M. Breakfast on Ganges steamer and arrival in Calcutta at noon of April 15. Left Calcutta April 15 at 4:30 in de luxe Durbar train. Ar- rived Benares April 16 at 7:15 A.M. Left April 17 at n P.M. and arrived Lucknow at 6:30 the next morning. Left at 3 P.M. and arrived at Cawnpore at 4:45. Left at 9 P.M. Arrived at Agra April 19 at 5 A.M. and left at n P.M. Delhi, April 20 at 4:50 A.M. and left at 9 P.M. Long ride to Bombay, arriving April 22 at I P.M. Remained in Bombay until April 26, sailing at 5 P.M. RED SEA. Passed Aden May I at 3 A.M. and entered the Red Sea. Passed Perim at 9 A.M. and Mocha about noon. May 3, northerly wind began. May 4, tropical outfit disappearing from the deck. Passed The Three Brothers at 6:17 A.M. Sinai at 6 P.M. SUEZ, May 5. Arrived at 5:30 A.M. and landed at 8. Special train to Cairo at 8:30, arriving at 2:30. Pyramids by moon- light ! May 6, lawn fete at Shepheard's. May 7, ball at the Con- tinental. May 8, special train for Port Said at 8:30, arriving at 12 130. Ship's band playing " I Can't Tell Why I Love You, But I Do!" Sailed at 3 P.M. Farewell to the Rev. Dr. Hough. " CLEVELAND " THROUGH CANAL. Entered May 5 at 2 P.M. and sailed at a 6-knot speed. Arrived at Port Said May 6 at 5 P.M. MEDITERRANEAN. Cold enough for winter clothes. May 10, passed Crete after midnight. May n, Mt. JEtna plainly visible at II A.M. for about an hour. Passed Cape Spartevento at noon and entered Strait of Messina. Stopped 20 minutes opposite the 32 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD city of Messina and passed out between Scylla and Charybdis at 2:50 P.M. Alongside Stromboli from 5 to 6 P.M. Farewell Din- ner May ii, with "illuminated ice-cream" and dance on prom- enade deck. NAPLES, May 12. Docked at 6 A.M. and landed about half of the passengers for overland trips across Europe. Sailed at 3 :30 P.M. MEDITERRANEAN. May 13, along Sardinia from 7 to 10 A.M. May 14, along the coast of Spain. GIBRALTAR, May 15. Europa Point at 8 A.M. Anchored at 8:30 and landed at 9:30. Across-Spain Party left here. Sailed at 2:15 P.M. Opposite Jibel Musa at 3:15. Last view of Gib- raltar, 3:40. Tarifa at 3:45. Tangier at 4:00. Cape Trafalgar at 5:15- THE ATLANTIC. May 16, passed Lisbon in the distance at 11:30 A.M. May 17, Cape Finisterre at 4 A.M. May 18, Ques- sent Island at 6:45 A.M. Portland at 8 P.M. Entered The Needles at 10:20 P.M. and sailed along the Isle of Wight. An- chored off Southampton at 11:36 P.M. ENGLISH CHANNEL, May 19. Landed about 100 passengers at Southampton May 19 at 6 :30 and sailed at 7 :2O, with band playing " There, Little Girl, Don't Cry ! " Through the north- east channel past Cowes, Osborn House, and Portsmouth. Nelson's flagship, the Victory, visible in the distance. Passed the white cliffs of Dover at 2:17 P.M., with Calais barely visible on the French coast. Channel calm all the way. Heavy North Sea fog at night. GERMANY. Passed Borkum Lightship May 20 at 7 :33 A.M. Elbe No. I Lightship at 12:25 P.M. Arrived Cuxhaven at 1:40 P.M. with the long " Homeward Bound " pennant streaming from the tallest mast. All passengers landed here. Special train left at 3:37 P.M. and arrived in Hamburg at 6:30. May 23, launching of the Imperator. May 25, to Berlin. June I, re- turn to Cuxhaven. Cleveland sailed for New York. THE LOG OF A GLOBE-TROTTER 33 HOMEWARD. June 2, in the English Channel, past Dover, Portsmouth, Southampton, touching at Cherbourg at 7 P.M. Arrived Ambrose Lightship, New York Harbour, June n, 10 P.M. Docked at Hoboken June 12, 8 A.M. Home again after 235 days! AIR TEMPERATURE AT NOON AROUND THE WORLD (From the Log of the Cleveland) EASTWARD WESTWARD Read down Read up 59 New York City 57-2 Cuxhaven 57-2 Southampton 60.8 68 Funchal . , 74-3 Gibraltar 62.6 62.6 Villefranche Naples 64.4 71.6 Port Said 66.2 69.8 Suez 734 86.9 Red Sea (maximum) 93-2 80.6 Bombay 84.2 84.2 Colombo 87.8 75-2 Diamond Harbour 69.4 84.2 Rangoon 84.2 81.5 Singapore 87.8 83.3 Batavia 84.2 82.4 Manila 86 82.4 Hong Kong 60.8 51.8 Nagasaki 50 50 Kobe 59 46.4 Yokohama 57-2 77 Honolulu 71.6 53-6 San Francisco 53-6 Note. Figures in Fahrenheit. For comparison with ordi- nary temperatures at home, deduct five or ten degrees from the high temperatures in the above record. Remember that the world-cruiser is in tropical clothing, and that there are free car- riages and 'rickshaws waiting to take him from dock to hotel and from hotel to the places of interest. TWICE AROUND THE WORLD DISTANCES AND RUNNING TIME Land distances in statute miles (5,280 ft.) Sea distances in sea-miles (6,080 ft.) Miles Days Hours Milts Days Hours New York .... San Francisco Punchal 2750 615 650 1460 '47 7 i 2 3 IS 16 3 20 4^ s l A 15 ii lx iM 9 IS 20 2O 2 12 8 12 II l8 I 13 2098 3420 108 6 10 i? 16 Of 5 2 X 12 6 2 3 I I M 3 21 14 12 '4 2 20 2O ' 7 5 X i*A 8 (-% 13 'fc 4% 15 18 8 k 7 S K 21 9 12 Gibraltar .... Yokohama Nikko Port Said Tokyo 90 3 Cairo Suez Kamakura Yokohama 2970 835 8 i Agra Nara 95 26 47 Delhi Kyoto Cawnpore 271 35 187 Kobe Osaka Benares Kobe Calcutta 392 1067 660 1570 530 1140 780 37 379 379 i 3 i 4 i 3 3 Darjeeling 379 379 37 780 1140 536 1570 S90 1067 392 2 2 2 3 i 4 i 3 i Hong Kong DiamondHarbour Batavia DiamondHarbour Calcutta Hong Kong Nagasaki Calcutta Kobe l87 Kyoto 27 47 35 18 3400 2092 i 10 6 I *% "% 9 4 35 Kobe Agra Yokohama Delhi 957 2970 i 8 Honolulu San Francisco Eastward.... Cairo 33447 69 2 Naples 1 120 987 1150 454 56 178 3 2 3 i Gibraltar Author's itinerary, eastward and westward combined, 49,554 miles. Travelling time of steamer and trains 143 days, ii hours. Southampton Hamburg Berlin Cuxhaven Southampton Cherbourg New York 234 454 IOO 3106 9 Westward 26107 74 9 MR. A. MARTINI MR. C. LODY LOOK WHO'S HERE! MR. C. SCIIERKR, SECOND IN COMMAND Ill OH, LOOK WHO'S HERE! TO stand apart with your pipe, here in the corner of the promenade deck on the first day of the cruise, with the orchestra playing " Santa Lucia " in the ladies' salon, and watch the characters as they troop across the stage this is no dull show. And it really matters very little whether it be the East- ward or the Westward cruise. The cast of characters is essentially the same. Yonder come Eunice and Gertie gushing products of the finishing school and the millinery factory each telling the other (at the same time, and loud enough for all to hear) how swell was the send-off dinner that he gave her last night at the cafe. Not for the world would they have left those roses in their staterooms, or that bunch of steamer letters which they will presently spread over the deck to show what a dash they cut in spite of themselves. And there is Winsome Willie, crusher of hearts, ablaze with his red necktie and with lilac socks peeping out from beneath his outing trousers. Light and airy and debonair, by to-morrow night he will be calling Eunice and Gertie by their first names and letting it ooze out that he is a man of the world. 35 36 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Here at the corner, blocking the passageway, is a trio of Old Cruisers. They are pointing out on the map the tracks that they have made over it and telling why the Cairo hotels are better than those of Con- stantinople. Somewhere up the line of steamer chairs are their buxom wives, each telling the other that she is a good sailor, and asking what is considered to be the best place to shop on a world-cruise. And then there are the Widows no end of them. Somebody who makes a specialty of widows and has a head for statistics has them all figured out. There are eighty-five of them all different varieties. There are the Merry Widow and the Marry Widow, the motherly widow and the sisterly widow, the cynic and the sad, the wicked and the winsome, and all the others. Some are portly and resigned; others are portly but hopeful; and a few are young and chic, with go-as-far- as-you-like twinkles. This one is revelling in the wealth suddenly left to her by the late and miserly deceased. That one is travelling around the world on the savings accumulated by strict economy with the allowance that the court designated as alimony. Yonder, painfully making her eleventh circuit of the Promenadedeckwalk, with her waist-line in plaster-of- paris, is one w 7 ho regards a world-cruise in the light of a Homeseekers' Excursion. All of them are experi- enced and wise. But Sister Dolorosa, sitting demurely yonder under a steamer rug, with her soulful eyes veiled by drooping lashes, is wiser than all. She merely sits, and looks dependent and weary of the lonely journey through life. And does it work? Keep your OH, LOOK WHO'S HERE! 37 eye upon the next twenty men who pass her chair and judge for yourself! Oh, never was a cruise that had the makings of a musical comedy like ours! There in the smoker are the Millionaire Kid and Montmorency and Spare Ribs and Gravy. On the deck below sit Uncle Dan and the Man from Superior, a lot sicker than the Ingenue and the Girl Who Doesn't Give a Hang. On the lower deck are the Duke and Cap and Peter and Ole. In the ladies' salon, rehearsing for the first euchre, are the Queen Bee, the Dowager, the Suffragette, and the Whist Fiend. On the hurricane deck are the Chorus Lady and the Daughter of Venus, playing shuffle- board with Prince Charming and Mother's Joy. And Grandpa is propped up against the rail, smoking fine- cut and getting a line on the Man-Hater. And then there are the rest of us just folks. We make something of a splash now and then in the home- town, but out here we are lost in the crowd. On the cast of characters we are billed in small type at the end, as the populace. We are merely doctors and lawyers and editors and merchants and bankers, and pillars of the church. We are essential to the per- formance, but we do not make the show. And what a setting for a stage production this is here on the great ship that gently lifts with " the swing- ing, smoking seas " as its big funnels belch out the smoke that trails behind ! In its wake, down below the horizon now, is the little world that we have known. Ahead of us, beyond that other skyline, is the greater world that we have always dreamed of seeing that 38 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD outer world of strange peoples, with its altars to the Unknown God. Meanwhile, here are some figures which show how many kinds of people it takes to make up a world- cruise. The classification is not quite complete, nor is it absolutely accurate. For instance, Genevieve regis- ters from New York, to conceal the fact that she lives in Brooklyn. And Herr Amtsgerichtsrat a. D. C. Braunschweig is accredited to Berlin, where he bought his ticket, instead of to the peaceful little village of Domane Barsdorf, where he winds the clock. APPROXIMATE GEOGRAPHY OF TWO PASSENGER LISTS EAST- WARD 4 93 United States Other Countries .... WEST- WARD 459 66 EAST- WARD 421 93 United States Other Countries WEST- WARD 4 H Maine 28 California 64 6 Washington .... Vermont Texas Massachusetts Arkansas . * 6 Connecticut Alabama Rhode Island .... Georgia . 120 New York 82 a Louisiana Virginia s Maryland Kentucky Delaware Tennessee 6 39 Ohio ,6 Alaska West Virginia Indiana 28 Illinois Iowa Austria Wisconsin 6 Switzerland .... 8 Minnesota ... North Dakota Sweden '. South Dakota 8 Nebraska France Kansas 6 Spain . .... Missouri . .... 28 Great Britain Colorado 6 Belgium .... .... i Canada i Arizona Cuba Utah 8 IV UNDER THE CASTLE OF HAMBURG FROM the front porch of the Cleveland, you will notice, hangs a small flag with a castle on it. It is not a German ensign, for that floats at the stern. Nor is it a house-flag of the Line, for that flaps from the top of the tallest mast. It is the Castle of Hamburg. After you have been in Hamburg long enough to realize what it stands for, you will not wonder that the mariners of the Elbe are proud of their great city. For, aside from being one of the richest and one of the most beautiful cities of Europe, Hamburg is one of the three city-republics of the German Empire, and no true Hamburger ever forgets it. (The other two are Bremen and Liibeck.) Hence it is that no loyal Hamburg sea-captain ever ventures into the North Sea without the Castle of Hamburg where the flag- lieutenant can get at it quickly. Now, the Cleveland, the first of all ships to circum- navigate the world on a regular schedule, is a Ham- burg ship. Its Captain, therefore, takes no small de- light in pushing his city flag into every foreign port about a hundred yards in advance of his passengers. To us in America, a steamship corporation is a 39 40 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD wicked, soulless octopus that is to be watched at every step and be throttled whenever its plans become imperial. (On the morning this page goes to the printer, for example, the newspaper announces that $12,000,000 worth of contracts for future American merchant ships, to be built by Cramps, had to be can- celled because they were to be operated in connection with railroad lines.) But in Germany, a big steam- ship company is regarded as one of the national institu- tions, to be favoured by legislation and to be applauded by the nation whenever its plans become world-wide. For over there it is understood that every steamer extends the borders of the Empire. This fact was very impressive as I stood in the drizzling rain at the close of the Westward cruise and witnessed the launching of the Imperator in the har- bour of Hamburg. It was a fitting close to a memo- rable voyage. There, in the background, were the smoke-begrimed funnels of the Cleveland, which had just brought its home pennant into port after an absence of seven months, during which time it had twice encircled the globe. And here in the foreground was the huge bulk of a steamer of the same line, three times as large, awaiting the electric touch that would send it gently into the historic waters of the Elbe. And all Deutschland had grasped the significance of an event that was to give the Empire preeminence on the great tourist highway that ends at Sandy Hook. That alert, graceful figure yonder on the christening chancel, in the white cap of an admiral and a dark gray cape to shield him from the rain that is the UNDER THE CASTLE OF HAMBURG 41 German Emperor. He has come up from Potsdam to signalize by his presence the fact that this launching is an imperial triumph as well as a Hamburg achieve- ment. And the great throng that covered docks and platforms and roofs and every sort of craft was not a demonstrative crowd. It was strangely quiet and solemn, for their eyes looked upon the Imperator as another province about to be added to the Fatherland. And some day, please God, Americans also will share this view of steamship operations on a world scale. In a chapter of another book ( " The Land of the White Helmet") I once called attention, before ever I realized what Hamburg's castle stands for, to the remarkable genius of the Hamburg shipmaster as seen in the operation of a rusty freighter off the West Coast of Africa. Since then I have watched that genius as expressed in organization and service all around the world the genius that is giving to Hamburg and Bremen the mastery of the seas. Without reckoning the shipping of the sister city of Bremen, consider what the steamers of this one Ham- burg-American Line alone are doing to add lustre to the ancient glory of the Castle City. The " Hapag " steamers go out on sixty-eight different services, of which this world-cruise is but one. They enter regularly 350 ports of the world. If you were to make a new map of the world and include only the countries that are touched by the boats of this one city, it would be quite a respectable and familiar map. Think of the prestige that would be added to any American city that could send out a fleet of 180 ocean-liners! 42 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD While we are circumnavigating the world, therefore, in the largest passenger steamer that has yet passed through the Suez Canal and as passengers of the largest mercantile fleet on any sea, it is permitted that we be a little chesty about it. We are entitled to all the honour we can get out of a cruise like this. In going around twice, it has been of the greatest interest to me to study the organization of the cruise, just as other passengers linger around the machinery of the ship itself. It is a beautiful example of the activity of that genius which has made the name of Hamburg familiar in every part of the world. First, the preliminary work. Back of this world- cruise is all the experience that has been gained in the management of ocean-going vessels and in the conduct of special pleasure cruises. All the problems of cir- cumnavigation were carefully worked out before the first passenger was solicited. Then they picked the boat. How wisely they picked it was proven when it made the double circuit, 50,000 miles, without having to stop for repairs. And with the boat went a picked corps of officers and engineers. But it was not enough that the ship be seaworthy, 608 feet long and of 17,000 tons. It was overhauled and given the luxuriousness of a private yacht. Second-class and third-class distinctions were oblit- erated, although the passenger-carrying capacity was thereby reduced from 1500 to 500; but ample deck room is required on a cruise of three and a half months in the tropics. An immense cold-storage plant was installed, and the largest steam-laundry afloat for a UNDER THE CASTLE OF HAMBURG 43 world-cruise demands that the Chief Officer shall take up the laundry business as a side-line. And there was the problem of keeping five hundred people sweet and smiling on shipboard during the voy- age across vast spaces of ocean. A crew of more than four hundred sailors and stewards was required, for a globe-trotter wants what he wants when he wants it. And these men were disciplined and drilled as is not done on even a warship, for the humblest steward on the boat is expected to render cheerful service to the most unreasoning and most exacting passenger. The man who spends nearly four months on one ship is content only when he is comfortable and he makes considerable of a noise when he is not content. The text-books on zoology say that a globe-trotter is most apt to be docile when he is well fed. The food should not only be plentiful and varied, but it should come along from the kitchen with great swiftness. And it must be just as fresh at Singapore as it is in the North Sea. The degree of success in working out this problem may be inferred from the records of the Cleveland's physician. When the Eastward cruise reached San Francisco, the doctor's log showed that he had treated only twenty-one cases of digestive dis- orders in the no days, and this list of twenty-one included all of his seasick patients and those who had eaten and drunk indiscreetly while on shore in the tropics ! This result was not accidental. The genius of Ham- burg had been active also in the commissary depart- ment, with an inconspicuous gentleman whom few of 44 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD the passengers ever noticed. He was supposed to re- side somewhere in the cold-storage room, and he bore the pleasing name of Mr. Martini. Before a ship reached any foreign port, this man knew just what toothsome provisions and fruits were in season, and he kept the wireless busy getting them down to the dock by the time the Cleveland tied up. He guessed the appetites of his guests with such accuracy and spent his money so freely that not one passenger, so far as I know, left the cruise with a grievance against the menu and that is an achievement that never hap- pened before on any steamship that carried me to sea. It may be of interest to see some of the items of a ship's housekeeper on a cruise like this. We ate about 200,000 pounds of meat, and an equal tonnage of bread and potatoes. Of poultry, we looted the chicken- coop to the extent of 70,000 pounds filling in the crevices with ornithological specimens like quail, pheasant, and guinea-hen. Incidentally, a lot of American hens were kept busy for a long time before we sailed, in order that we might have the 300,000 eggs needed for the cruise. We used up 15,000 pounds of coffee and I know not how many bales of tea, and 22,000 pounds of sugar were required to keep every- thing sweet. Of fruits, we ate enough varieties to stock a botanical garden, for almost every port con- tributed something strange and appetizing. Of more commonplace specimens we let 24,000 apples, 40,000 grapefruit, and 80,000 oranges know that we were on board. And that ice-cream that was such a joy every UNDER THE CASTLE OF HAMBURG 45 night, especially between Cairo and Manila it was all frozen in the U.S.A. and tucked away in the Cleve- land's cold storage! But if you really want to know how a passenger eats on a world-cruise, it is best to look at the directory. Here is a catalogue of an a la carte lunch and of an ordinary dinner. They show what we had for no days, except when we had something better. LUNCH Served from ia to 2 p. m. HORS D'CEUVRE: Olives Sweet Pickles Mustard Pickles Beet Roots Bismarck Herrings Sardines in Oil Anchovies Russian Sardines Fried Pickled Herrings SOUPS : Pot au feu Consomm6 in Cup EGGS: Hoppel Poppel Poached Eggs a la Comtesse FISH: Fresh Lobster, Sauce Mayonnaise Fried English Sole, Butter ENTRIES, ROASTS AND POULTRY Broiled Mutton Chops, Butter Beans Hamburg Steak, Lyonnaise Potatoes Fricassee of Veal with Asparagus Roast Wild Duck SPECIAL DISHES: Pea Soup with Bacon Roast Pork, Sauerkraut; Mashed Potatoes VEGETABLES AND POTATOES: Butter Beans Celery Boiled Rice French and German fried Potatoes Boiled and baked Potatoes Baked Sweet Potatoes Mashed Potatoes Saratoga Chips SALADS ; Salad a la Chasseur Salad a 1'Americaine Potato Salad COLD CUTS AND COLD DISHES: Hors d'ceuvre Lobster Pyramide Eggs a la Heligoland Roastbeef, Vegetable Salad Tournedos a la Marigny' Boiled Yorkshire Ham Corned Beef Tongue Smoked Eel Goose in Jelly Roast Chicken Various Kinds of Sausage COMPOTE AND DESSERTS : Stewed Prunes Nesselrode Cream, Punch Sauce Congress Tartlets CHEESE: Swiss, Edelweiss, Gorgonzola, Edam FRUIT : Mandarines, Apples, Apricots Coffee 46 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD ON BOARD S. S. "CLEVELAND 1 May g, 1912 D INNER Chicken Soup a la Monte Christo Consomme with Noodles Ombre de Mer a la Meuniere Potatoes Porterhousesteak a la Jardiniere Aubergines a 1'Amfericaine Roast Duck Compote Salad Almond Ice Cream Tartlets a la Lingoise Dessert Ship's Time on May 10, 6 a. m. will be put back ti Min. The management was also wise enough to know that globe-trotters keep much sweeter in the tropics if they have somebody tickling their toes and ears during the lazy hours on board. In addition to the ordinary band, therefore which played every morn- ing at ten, every night at dinner, and often in the evening a trio of genuine artists was lured to the boat and carried to sea. With these gentlemen came a repertoire of 53 overtures, 91 fantasies, 41 classical selections, 86 pieces of the kind that Uncle Dan likes, 53 songs without words, 66 pieces with the American UNDER THE CASTLE OF HAMBURG 47 Eagle on them, 119 waltzes, 76 marches, 19 turkey- trots, 15 violin solos, and 9 'cello solos. These were turned loose in the ladies' salon every afternoon and evening. Then, you know, there are some of us who are not happy on Sunday unless we can sit in church. But think how many kinds of churches we sit in when we are at home, and how many kinds of doctrines we are sensitive about! To provide a pastor for a flock of this kind is no easy task and to lead it away from the promenade deck on a hot Sunday and down into the dining-salon is not easy, either. This is the place to say, therefore, with few words but with the utmost sincerity, that the lamented Dr. George A. Hough (who died in Europe on the way home) was one of the best men for this position that ever sailed the seas. A Social Director and an assistant were also pro- vided, to supervise the social life of the ship and per- suade timid folks to talk at the meetings of the Gird- lers' Club. Some idea of the gaiety of life on the Cleveland may be gleaned from the social programme for ten days at sea: Saturday. Reception, 8:30-10 P.M. Sunday. Divine service, 10:30 A.M. Song service, 8:30 P.M. Monday. Progressive euchre, 8:30 P.M. Tuesday. Camera Club, 8:30 P.M. Wednesday. English lecture, 8 :3O P.M. Thursday. Musical Club, 8:30 P.M. Friday. Bridge Whist, 8:30 P.M. Saturday. Dance on Promenade Deck.) Sunday. In port at Madeira. Monday. Girdlers' Club, 8:30 P.M. 48 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Such is the genius of Hamburg in the running of a steamship around the world, but it did not stop here. The Company had to have a man who could direct the cruise with the skill that the Captain used on the bridge. Now that is a man's job. Can you handle 500 people, mostly of the human race and with about 750 kinds of temperament, and never lose your temper? When every stateroom is occupied and some passenger insists upon having a change, can you fix him up? Can you tell, out in the Java Sea, how many Dutch guilders to give a passenger in exchange for twenty Indian rupees that he has left over when the value of both is fluctu- ating? Can you decide, right off the bat, what is to be done when you anchor in Hong Kong, with plans all perfected for side-trips to Canton, and learn suddenly that the riots there have knocked the programme into smithereens? If so, you are qualified to trot in the same class with Mr. Vogelsang and Mr. Scherer, who ran the show all the way round, and with Mr. Lody, the responsible man on the Across-India and Across- Japan excursions the three Carls. And the Reiseburo did a bully job no mistake about that. Now and then, when a group of passengers in the hot sun showed impulsiveness and elevated tem- peratures, some member of the staff became peevish, but all of us can recall instances where a verdict of justifiable homicide would have been unanimously voted by the passengers. They worked hard to make things go smoothly, and many of them did their duty when they might have ducked and gone sight-seeing on their own account. V MADEIRA, VINTAGE OF ANTIQUITY OH, lookee! See that greyish cloud ahead, low on the horizon? That is the mountain range that amphitheatres the city of Funchal. By the time we run down to the breakfast-table for grape- fruit and apfelpfahnkuchen and coffee, we shall be alongside the sunny land where Columbus got the Great Idea that Hoboken could be reached by sailing due west. It is the eighth day, early on a Sunday morn. The sun has just come up out of the sea and begins to play on the topmost peaks like a searchlight. Then it switches around and illuminates the bunting that flutters on the Cleveland from stem to stern. Then it comes up a little higher and tints the picturesque stucco cottages that rise one after another from waterfront to peak. The big ship pushes its way slowly through a fleet of small boats and anchors in a pocket-edition of the Bay of Naples. In another hour we shall be giving Funchal the busiest Sunday that it has seen in years. Now Francisco and Jose ought to be at early mass but there they stand on the end of the pier, in straw hats and Sunday best! And there are Maria and 50 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Dolores also, who should be at home getting little sis- ters ready for Sunday School. But, alas! and alack! there also is Mamma for the Portuguese and Spanish lands sing the Lamb Song thus : "And everywhere that Maria went, Mamma was sure to go." Some travellers think that Funchal looks like Hono- lulu. I can't see it that way, at all. It is more like its sister cities Teneriffe and Las Palmas, in the Canaries far to the south. It presents a beautiful appearance from the sea, whereas Honolulu is so flat that you must get above it and look down to get the same effect. But the luxuriant roses and geraniums and bougain- villea and the climate are like those of Honolulu and that is the acme of praise. The Funchal thermome- ters have no use for the figures below 53 F. or above 88. In winter they use degree 64 most of the time, and 74 in summer. It is not exactly proper to go joy-riding on Sunday, but that is exactly what everybody did in Funchal. We had many frolics later on, in 'rickshaws and " dandies " and on camels and elephants, but nowhere in the East were there any thrills just like those of Funchal. There are four varieties. If you feel genuinely lazy, you may crawl into a hammock and be trotted about like a sick baby, with a brawny Portuguese at each end of the hammock, and a canopy overhead. This thrill should cost twenty cents an hour, but you will probably WHY BLAME COLUMBUS FOR FLIRTING? "HOME WAS NEVER LIKE THIS!" MADEIRA, VINTAGE OF ANTIQUITY 51 pay fifty. The carriers are liable at any moment to burst into laughter and song. You can stop the song by the payment of a small additional fee, or with a big gnarled stick. The second thrill comes only in the lower town. Here is a horseless taxi that may be seen in no other part of the world known to me. It is a large and heavy sled with a canopy top a sled whose runners have been worn smooth by the cobblestones of the well- paved streets. It is built for two couples, who sit fore and aft, facing. The motive power is a yoke of oxen. The speed-limit is about two miles an hour, dependent upon the sharpness of the driver's goad and the loud- ness of his voice. It is better to pay a little extra and get more noise. This thrill costs each passenger about twenty cents an hour. It is worth more if you can arrange to have two of these carros meet in a narrow street. No. 3 is on the cable railway that creeps about 2,000 feet upward to Monte. The capacity of the train is fifty persons and the fare is 62 l / 2 cents. The view from the top is worth at least sixty cents, and you may refresh yourself at a fine hotel. You get thrill No. 4 on the way back, if you tobog- gan down "the Slide." This is a narrow, winding street paved with small cobbles, and your vehicle is literally a surface car. It is a sled about the size of two soap-boxes and carries two or three persons. Ropes are attached in front on both sides, and two husky motormen coax it rapidly downhill. When its speed is retarded by friction, one of them produces a 52 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD bag of grease and lets the runner glide over it. Then you go lickety-split again. The speed record in Fun- chal is two miles in three minutes, but we were not in such a hurry. This kind of taxi costs about a dollar an hour. Although Funchal is the third city of Portugal and has 50,000 people (one-third of the population of Madeira), there is not much to see except the perpetual beauty of the place and the quaint life of its streets. There is a poor excuse for a restaurant in the business centre of town, across from the Cathedral, where you may sit at a table on the narrow sidewalk and watch the life of Funchal as it passes by. The fact that the passer-by must walk in the street in order to get by your table does not seem to ruffle his temper in the least. Sitting here at luncheon, with a bottle of the famous wine to disguise the taste of the food, chance may give you some interesting panoramas. I recall a quaint wedding-party that issued from the old Cathe- dral, where the first-born of Columbus is said to have been christened. The happy couple was whirled away in an ox-sled for the honeymoon. But the guide wastes precious time in taking you to a lot of other places if you let him. Funchal thinks that its Casino Pavao is a wonder and so it is at night, when its beautiful garden is illuminated with thousands of colored lights. Then there are the tourist hotels and the Fort and the Governor's palace, and the police-station and the blacksmith-shop. The Praga is not a bad park for Winsome Willie and Gertie to linger in, but the English Cemetery lacks antiquity MADEIRA, VINTAGE OF ANTIQUITY 53 enough to make it worth while. It dates only from 1765; previous to that time all dead Protestants went into the sea. For men- folks, there isn't much in Madeira to spend money for except postcards and joy-rides, wicker- chairs and wine. (Go slowly with that wine! If you have to be carried up the gang-plank in full view of a rail lined with fellow-passengers, " the memory lingers.") But Funchal is one of the places where the lady tourist goes daffy over laces and such like an enthusiasm dampened only by the remembrance of Mr. Wm. Loeb, Jr., and his colleagues in the 'Frisco cus- tom-house. They rave over this Madeira lace, which to a plain man looks like the $1.50 lace-curtains at Rubenstein's emporium. The most interesting products of Madeira are the people themselves. The citified Portuguese in Funchal have that tailor-made politeness and the creased man- ners that you find in all the lands where the man wears filigree work on his shoes and puts a mourning band on his sleeve when the sister-in-law of his third cousin's stepson dies. The country folk of Madeira are strongly flavoured with the soil, and some of them look like banditti, but they are a simple-minded, hard-work- ing, courteous race, and I like them. It was a peasant- born who chaperoned me while I was in Funchal a rough, uncouth man with warts on his hands, but with a soul as gentle as a nun's. I remember his unstudied courtesy just as I recall the purple of the bougain- villea and the scarlet of the hibiscus. When his service was ended, I offered him a glass of his country's wine, 54 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD as one gentleman to another. But he would not lay aside his fine breeding as a peasant; he took off his ragged cap and held it in his hand while drinking in my presence. Everybody knows that Madeira wine is one of the principal products of Madeira. But not everybody knows that the chief of all its exports was the Great Idea that gave Christopher Columbus his start in life. They give him credit for the Idea but insist that he got it in Madeira. Over in the neighbouring island of Porto Santo, they say that it came as the result of a job that his father-in-law gave him on one of his trad- ing-boats. Others claim that he saw some strange junk washed up on the western shore and did his figuring from that. A third school tells of some sailors that were washed ashore from a wreck in 1480 and given first aid by Columbus. It may be intended as no discredit to his skill that they died. At any rate it helps the plot, for the dying captain is said to have given Columbus his maps and charts and the clue came from them. But, after all, it may be that the Great Idea grew in the back of Christopher's own head. There is another story about Columbus that is so well authenticated that I pass it along with regret and pain. The Governor of Porto Santo, Perestrello by name, had a daughter one of those star-eyed brunettes of whom only a few are extant in Madeira. Her name was Menina, which is about as close as the Portuguese language can come to Minnie. The Governor sent MADEIRA, VINTAGE OF ANTIQUITY 55 Minnie across to Portugal to learn how to play the piano and crochet. And Columbus our own peerless discoverer flirted with her ! It was such a desperate case that when Minnie left school, Chris followed her home. He put up a good story to the old man and soon had the pleasure of walking down the aisle with Min- nie. This was about nineteen years before he dis- covered us. They lived for a time in Porto Santo, probably boarding with papa, and then began housekeeping here in Funchal. The house is gone now, but the site remains. On a modern house in the Rua Dereita, near the Cathedral, you will find a tablet that tells the story. Other great travellers before us have had their names associated with Madeira. Cook was there not the Doctor but the Captain. So also was Napoleon, on the 1815 cruise to St. Helena. But a sea- faring man by the name of Zargo left a bigger mark than any of them. Zargo had inherited a Missouri disposition, and also had plenty of sand in his craw. Folks over in Portugal kept telling him about a large cavern out in the western sea, which they said was the mouth of hell. Zargo took down its street address and started for it. When he came in sight of it, he pointed his prow at the darkest spot and ran up all his canvas. Straight into it he went and discovered the Madeiras. The King of Portugal was very appreciative and thereafter called the captain Sir Zargo, and appointed him as overseer of his discoveries. Then he showed 56 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD him another great kindness. Zargo had three daugh- ters (age and complexion not stated) who had no husbands. The King picked out three young men from the Portuguese nobility, probably three from whom parting would be sweet sorrow, and sent them over to Porto Santo with wedding-rings. Most of the F.F.F.'s (First Families of Funchal) trace their ped- igrees back to this movement of population. But, so far as I know, the mantle of old Zargo has not de- scended upon any of them. We came at a momentous hour in the life of this people when they were struggling to adapt them- selves to the habits of a new republic. Two months later, on the other side of the earth, we saw another people passing through the same experience the Chi- nese on the Canton River. Another coincidence : Funchal, visited only by the Eastward cruisers, is Portuguese. Macao, near Hong Kong, seen only by the Westward cruisers, is also Portuguese. There are three other facts about Madeira worth remembering, as you sail away toward Gibraltar and watch the sunlit city slipping away behind you. First, the sugar-cane of the West Indies was introduced from Madeira. Second, the sale of African slaves to Madeira plantations led directly to the introduction of slavery into the American colonies. Third, the problem of working the sugar plantations of Hawaii is to-day being partly solved, you will find at Hono- lulu, by the importation of Portuguese immigrants of the same type as those here in Funchal. GIBRALTAR VI THE SEA OF DARING ADMIRALS HERE, Uncle Dan, is a great chance for you to electrify the home town. Have the sign- painter make a big outline map of the Medi- terranean. Borrow from the library a lot of ancient and modern histories, and make a list of all the brilliant exploits that have taken place between Tarifa and the De Lesseps statue. Then have the Clarion office run off some handbills announcing that you will deliver a lecture in the schoolhouse, entitled " Big Tadpoles in a Little Pond." (They will let you deliver it at the Lodge and at the Methodist Church if you will tone down the title and begin with Hiram's ships bringing cedars of Lebanon down from Tyre for the building of Solomon's Temple.) Impress it upon them that there is no body of water in all the world, not even the big Pacific, that has been the theatre of so many heroic deeds. Help them count the great Admirals of the Mediterranean more than there are Colonels in Kentucky or Gen- erals in Hayti. Tell them about Pompey's job as First Lord of the Admiralty, and how he cleaned up the Mediterranean. His batting record 3,000 prizes, 10,000 funerals, and 20,000 captives will make a 57 58 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD hit with the home team. And if the audience begins to get drowsy, turn loose on them the story of Stephen Decatur and the Philadelphia in the harbour of Tripoli. It is ahead of anything that Hobson did, and it was not spoiled by wholesale kissing afterward. You can get the small fry going if you play up the Cruise of the Argonauts and sprinkle spangle-dust over The Islands of the Blest. For the girls of the 6-B, that story about Leander swimming the Helles- pont every night to see his sweetheart is just the thing. Besides, the name Leander sounds good to girls of that grade. To make the hair of the Boy Scouts rise on end, deliver a few carefully selected stories of the Barbarossas and other buccaneers who antedated the regime of ocean stewards. And after you have captured Gibraltar with Rooke and held it with Elliott, you can come outside the Strait and make a great finish with the Battle of Trafalgar. Much do I regret that there is no space in this book for your lecture in full, from 2,000 B. c. down to the latest fizzle between the navies of Italy and Turkey. It happens that I have been at Gibraltar on four cruises, and I lived for two months across the Strait at Tangier, but never yet have I been able to stand upon the deck of a steamer and disentangle my geog- raphy. Moreover, I have never overheard any one else doing it, though I have listened to some who blissfully thought that they had it straight. With this experience behind me and plenty of detailed maps THE SEA OF DARING ADMIRALS before me, here goes to help the next fellow a little. The eastward-bound passenger who comes via Funchal will probably not see Cape St. Vincent, the southwest corner of Europe a promontory of white cliffs with a fort on top and with wild waves dashing against its sides. The first land seen on the left, be- fore entering the Strait, will probably be Cape Trafal- gar. If so, the lighthouse of Cape Spartel (the north- west corner of Africa, twenty-five miles distant) and the city of Tangier should both be visible on the right, with the outline of Gibel Musa mountain dead ahead. An approximate time-table for the Cleveland's passage of the Strait is as follows: 4:45 A.M. Opposite Cape Trafalgar (on the left). 6:15 " Passing Tangier, Morocco (on the right). 6:30 " Opposite Tarifa lighthouse (left). 7:00 " Alongside Gibel Musa (right). 8:00 " Anchor in the Bay of Gibraltar. The westward-bound traveller, coming from Naples, will pass between the Pillars of Hercules and round Europa Point about half an hour before anchoring. Upon leaving anchorage, the approximate time-table will be as follows: 2:00 P.M. (ist day) : Sail from Gibraltar. 3:00 ' Pass Gibel Musa (left). 3:25 ' Last view of the Rock. 3:30 ' Opposite Tarifa light (right). 3:45 ' Passing Tangier (left). 5:15 ' Off Cape Trafalgar (right). ' Pass Cape St. Vincent (right). 11:30 A.M. (2d day) Pass Cape Roca and Lisbon. 4:00 A.M. (3d day) Pass Cape Finisterre. 60 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD The westward-bound globe-trotter should be famil- iar with the Battle of Trafalgar, for he will pass directly through the waters where it was fought; and, on the fourth morning thereafter, if he will turn his glasses on the tallest mast of a vessel moored back of Portsmouth, he will see Nelson's flagship, the Victory. The fight did not take place at Cape Trafalgar. Villeneuve's fleet of French and Spanish ships were sheltered in the harbour of Cadiz. Nelson's fighters were cruising outside, with battle plans all mapped out. His captains had been given a list of signals, but each was told in writing that if things should get muddled up, he would not go far wrong if he should run his ship alongside the enemy and stay busy. Villeneuve heard that he was going to lose his job on Saturday night, so he decided to take one last chance. Out he came. Up from Nelson's flagship went the signal-flags which read : " England expects every man to do his duty." Then he closed in. They fought all over that part of the sea, bloodying the waves like a chicken with its head chopped off. Nel- son won but lost his life. Hardy, his successor, saw Cape Trafalgar in the distance when the last gun had been fired, and that explains why the Cape and the Battle have the same name. The seas of the world have few sights that equal Gibraltar in impressiveness, so do not try to hurry the ship along. The approach to the Rock surpasses anything that the town itself has to offer. 62 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD A hint to the eastward-bound, who is scheduled to reach Gibraltar in the early morn. Leave instructions with the Chief Steward the night before that you are to be called whenever the light of Cape Spartel is sighted. That should bring you on deck in time to see the dawn come up gloriously over the African mountains and, if fortune favours, show you a crim- son sunrise that you can never forget. Incidentally, you will see the Moorish city of Tangier, the ancient piratical stronghold of Tarifa, and everything else that is to be seen in the thirty-six miles of Strait. To the American, of course, Gibraltar is a rock that has the strength of a certain life-insurance company, and he is sure that he will recognize it at sight. A big surprise awaits him if he comes in from the Atlantic. It is the westward-bound who will recog- nize the familiar outline, for the view shown in the advertisements is from some point on the Mediter- ranean side. Those who have been at anchor in the Bay of Gibraltar will greet as an old friend the photograph that precedes this chapter. It is the outline of the Rock as the traveller sees it oftenest. The photo- graph was taken from the deck of the Konigin Luise, anchored in front of the town, several years ago. It is remarkable for the halo that encircles it a phe- nomenon traceable to the fact that the sun was rising directly behind the Rock and had not yet peeped over. Europa Point is on the right, and the bold headland on the left overlooks the Neutral Ground. Those who can see things that are not may recognize the lion THE SEA OF DARING ADMIRALS 63 couchant! The lower picture shows the Neutral Ground. On entering the Bay (which is six miles wide and about ten long), with Gibraltar on the right, the Neutral Ground and the Spanish town of Linea are almost straight ahead. On the left, looking far whiter than it really is, you will see Algegiras, Spain, where the famous Moroccan Conference met in 1904. It basks in the sun directly across the Bay from Gibraltar. When you are passing Europa Point, whether en- tering or leaving the Mediterranean, remember that you are passing the Pillars of Hercules. The Point is one of them, and Ceuta (the projecting point of the African coast fifteen miles distant) is the other. Ceuta is also Spanish, being the citadel of the narrow zone of Morocco that belongs to Spain. In the early days, the Pillars of Hercules marked the limit of westward navigation. (Read up on the River Oceanus and the Islands of the Blest, and see what terrors awaited the skipper who dared to push his boat be- yond this ne plus ultra.) Crowded as I am for space, I should gladly make room just here for the log of the first mariner who sailed his frail craft straight through and took a long chance of being carried by a boiling, seething current headlong over the bottomless abyss of the jumping-off place. The No. I man here was probably a Phoeni- cian, for the oldest town in Europe (Cadiz) is Phoeni- cian. It is obvious that it was necessary to pass the Strait and round Cape St. Vincent before founding 64 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD the town higher up. I have found no record of this mariner's name or ancestry, but there is a rumour that he came from the same county in Missouri that produced Zargo. Now for " Gibraltar, grand and grey." The most important rock in the world is about three miles long, two-thirds of a mile wide, and about 1,400 feet high in the middle. It is connected with the Peninsula by a sandy isthmus that is about a mile and a half long. This is the Neutral Ground, with a picket-fence of British sentinels on one side and a line of Spanish sentries on the other. Like the wooden horse of Troy, the Rock is hollow and filled with fighting men of the finest breed. Nobody who really knows about its armament will talk above a whisper, but you may hear one rumour that its big guns can throw a 2,000- pound shell eight miles, and another rumour that they can land projectiles across the Strait in Africa ! The one safe bet is that no vessel can enter or leave the Mediterranean if Great Britain says no. Remember, also, that the other exit (Port Said) is British; and that the exit of the Red Sea is sentinelled by the British island of Perim, with the British city of Aden just around the bend, in Arabia. Put it down in your notebook also that Cyprus and Malta are British strongholds in the Mediterranean. These sig- nificant facts have probably held Europe back from war more than once in our lifetime. A lot of folks have pitched camp on this old rock Phoenicians, Romans, Goths, Vandals, Moors, Span- THE SEA OF DARING ADMIRALS 65 iards, and Britons. Its name comes from Gibel (a rock) and Tarik (the name of the Moorish con- queror of 711 A. D.). The Clevelanders who went from here to Villefranche should remember that Sir George Rooke, who took Gibraltar for the British in 1704, had just come from Villefranche. But the great name of Gibraltar is that of Sir George Elliott the man who held on with his teeth during the four- year siege that began in 1779. He is why the banner of England still flies over the Rock. Passengers land at Gibraltar in a large tender and run the easy gauntlet of the custom-house. Then the gloomy arches of an ancient gateway open into Water- port Street, the main artery of the town. Two things outside the gate deserve attention. The road to the left is the highway that leads across the Neutral Ground to Linea. Here, in the angle between it and the gate, is the Moorish poultry market, a place of casual interest. On the right is the fruit market the place to stop on the way back to the ship and load up with fresh figs and the most delicious Malaga grapes that ever passed your lips. The thing to do in Gibraltar is, first, to take a carriage and drive up Waterport Street without stop- ping, wind around through some of the steep residen- tial streets, and stop at the Alameda Gardens. This is a pretty place but not worth wasting time on. Drive quickly on to Europa Point, and then back to the entrance to the deserted galleries that overlook the Neutral Ground. A man in khaki guides you through the subterranean passages, and from a peep-hole high 66 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD up on the Rock you may have a wonderful view. But this is no walk for a traveller with weak knees or flabby heart. Return to your carriage and drive rap- idly to Linea, noting the sentry lines at each end of the Neutral Ground. Then return to Waterport Street, dismiss your carriage, and spend the rest of your time on foot in that quaint street, where Europe, Asia, Africa, and America meet. There is an impression that Gibraltar is one of the best places in the world to shop, being a free port that is visited by perhaps 50,000 vessels a year. One of these days the megaphone will be saying that it is one of the dearest places on the globe and then a revolution will take place in Waterport Street and thereafter the tourist will be asked to pay only about loo per cent, profit on what he buys. Most of these shopkeepers are Asiatics, and they carry in stock the same junk that is to be picked up in Japan, India, and Egypt at much lower prices. Buy your cigars and your lace-shawls and your embroideries in Gibraltar if you must. I don't. This is the first place where you come into contact with Private Thomas Atkins, if you are eastward- bound. You will see him again at frequent intervals all around the world as far as Hong Kong. Meet him like a man and a gentleman, for he is a clean white man, as well as a first-class fighting man. Most likely he is Scotch. A small investment in cigars and courtesy will bring large dividends in useful in- formation and service. And now let us sail away for the Riviera and, in THE SEA OF DARING ADMIRALS 67 passing, take a look at the grand old Rock from the Mediterranean side. If, in your passage of the Mediterranean, you learn that the cholera epidemic has broken out in Naples, as usual, burn on your devotional altars the incense of gratitude. The Riviera is more beautiful in a minute than Naples in a week. It is a run of about two days from Gibraltar to the harbour of Villefranche. The Cleveland came grandly in about three o'clock in the afternoon and passed slowly along the waterfront of Nice, which is but two miles from Villefranche. The Promenade des Anglais is a sort of Atlantic City boardwalk, and the town turned out with waving flags to see us pass. At four o'clock we were at anchor, but the harbour had nothing better than small row-boats to land us in. The result was that nightfall had come before we were all ashore. For the beautiful city of Nice, with its 90,000 in- habitants, we could spare only the early hours of the evening, promising to drive back the next morning and see it by daylight. Its beauty and the charm of the beautiful French that you hear in its streets re- main in memory like a half- forgotten dream. Surely this part of France must have been a suburb of the Garden of Eden. But the post-office address of a Cleveland passenger after ten o'clock that night was c/o " The Casino," Monte Carlo, which is but a few miles from Ville- franche. We were all there in the Casino, and 99 per 68 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD cent, of us had more than an educational interest in the spinning of the wheel. Nobody seemed to be meditating upon the fact that here Greek civilization first established itself in western Europe. I heard no crackling noises that night that sounded like the breaking up of the bank, but Monte was a busy place while the Clevelanders were among those present. Most of us. were good losers, but a few were good winners. The best winners were those who played the game like the demure, winsome damsel from Philadelphia. She coyly laid a big silver dollar down on the wheel when nobody was looking, and told the spinner to go as far as he liked. The wheel went round with a merry good will. When it stopped, the engineer raked up a basketful of dollars and handed them over. The little Quakeress did not faint she quit! By rigid economy in the matter of sleep, there were some unforgettable drives the next morning over beautiful roads that wind among the mountains and overlook the blue of the sea below. If, instead of sailing at eleven o'clock, the Cleveland's boilers had burst and laid the boat up for a week, not a passenger would have uttered a word of complaint. But the boilers refused to burst, and we sailed away in the brilliant sunlight, along the coast-line of one of the happiest lands in the world. And when the last alluring bit of the Riviera began to lose itself in the haze of distance, we began the process of adapt- ing ourself to the 120 European passengers who had just come aboard. And that was a wild night at sea! VII IN THE SHADOW OF VESUVIUS FIRST, let us get rid of a few ragged pieces of real estate that stick up out of the Mediter- ranean along the path of the Cleveland. The Eastward party, leaving Villefranche about noon, passed that evening between two historic islands Corsica, where Napoleon was born, and Elba, where he was in temporary exile. On the second day, at 5 :3O p. M., we were along- side the volcano of Stromboli, southwest of Naples. Stromboli is one of those steam-heated apartments whose janitor never lets the fire go out. A light cloud of smoke rises continuously from the chimney and drifts away in a haze that is visible afar off. We passed it on the crater side, getting a good view of the stream of lava that drifts down to the sea with almost imperceptible movement. When seen at night, this lurid stream gleams out of the darkness as a broad, perpendicular band of light. The only busy man on the ship while we were passing Stromboli was Dr. Grandefeld, an artist. Rigging up his easel on the front porch, he sketched in the outlines of the volcano while yet at a distance. Then he dabbed on the clouds and blended the sunset 70 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD colours. By this time we were near enough for him to paint in the ashen-grey of the lava stream, with the raw sienna edges where the vegetation had been cooked. As we passed alongside he slapped in the other details the green of the trees, the little terraced gardens, and the whitewashed cottages there in the shadow of death. When we had passed, there was the oil-painting, needing only to be manicured at leisure. It was a clever piece of work. In the calm of the twilight hour we steamed be- tween Scylla and Charybdis and entered the Strait of Messina. The rows of lights in Messina (on the right) and in Reggio (on the toe of Italy's boot) made a beautiful picture, and the hurricane deck had to put up the S. R. O. sign. The Westward party, leaving Port Said on Wed- nesday evening, saw Mt. ./Etna on Saturday about 10:30 A.M., and entered the Strait of Messina at noon. The little villages on the Italy side were very distinct in the bright sunlight, and each in turn was recognized as Reggio. Finally the real Reggio was passed and the ship swung in close to Messina, where the Captain halted for twenty minutes and gave the passengers a good view of an earthquaked city in the process of rehabilitation. At 3 P. M. we were passing out between Scylla (on the Italy side) and Charybdis. Since nearly half of the passengers were to leave the ship the following day at Naples, for overland trips across Europe, this was the night of the Farewell Dinner, dance, and tears. Also tips! And now for bella Napoli. IN THE SHADOW OF VESUVIUS 71 It is said that in the old days there was a siren here at Naples, a sort of Italian Lorelei who lured sailors to destruction. If there is any young lady of such irresistible charms there now, I have missed her. Still, it doesn't take a great deal to lure a sailor. It is also written that Naples was once devasted by the barbarians. I feel sure that this must be so. Some- thing tells me also that the barbarians forgot to go away. In the course of our tour of the world, we had passed through some places of evil repute, such as Canton, Singapore, and Port Said. But it was not until we were entering Naples that the Tourist Bureau deemed it wise to print on the programme the caution : " Beware of Pickpockets ! " Consider also that Naples fairly teems with beggars and rascally vendors. And that it is unkempt and smelly. Then you have only some of the reasons why I mourn not the shortness of our stay. Now Napoli is of course a place of great interest if you stop long enough to go to Herculaneum and Pompeii, to sail over to Capri and the Blue Grotto, to drive around Sorrento and Amalfi. In other words, Naples is all right if you hurry on to some other place. It was not thus in the olden time, the time when Lucullus and Virgil lived here, and when the Caesars both Julius and Gus used to run down for the week-end. Were it not for the bay and Vesuvius, the largest city of Italy would not attract much except cholera and fleas in the present age. Vesuvius, calmly smoking away, stands out sublime 7* TWICE AROUND THE WORLD and grim there against the skyline, but the bay has always been a disappointment to me. I have never yet seen it when it could compare with the turquoise and emerald of the Bay of Suez, and a number of other less celebrated puddles of water. But this is not saying there are no times when it is the most beautiful body of water in the world. Was it not of this bay that Shelley wrote : " They might lament ; for I am one whom men love not and yet regret. Unlike this day which, when the sun shall on its stainless glory set, Will linger, though enjoyed, like joy in memory yet." The eastward-bound traveller has the advantage here. At its worst, Naples has more points of interest than Funchal or the town of Gibraltar, and the globe- trotter does not feel that it is a come-down from what he has been seeing elsewhere. We saw Napoli in its Sunday clothes, just coming from mass, and not once did we hear " Santa Lucia " or " Espagnola." A pleasant carriage drive through its best streets saved us from the importunities of the beggars and the deft fingers of the pickpockets. An hour in the Aquarium, another in the Museum, and a little loitering in the Galleria Umberto this was all that we had time for. But, lest some one accuse me of having taken snap-judgment of Naples, permit me to say that I knew it of old. That Aquarium is one of the most interesting places in town. It is a sort of international institution, even IN THE SHADOW OF VESUVIUS 73 the United States being financially interested in it. The most spectacular exhibits in it are the jelly-fish with electric attachments. You see a lace handkerchief suspended in the water and all at once it is lit up with a system of incandescent lights. A long but tiny white snake hangs like a skein of yarn and a bulb of electric light runs back and forth exactly like the lights that chase one another in an electric sign. This is a feature of the Aquarium of Naples that I have never seen anywhere else. While you are here, be kind to one of the attendants and he may let you feed the octopus! Do not let your prejudice against museums keep you away from the Museum of Naples. It is full of antiquities from Herculaneum and Pompeii, and some of the sculpture is magnificent, even to those who are not specially interested in works of art. For instance, you may not be overwhelmed at the sight of an equestrian statue of the son of Marcus Balbus, but it is worth while to see the finest marble horse of an- tiquity. You are apt to take a second glance at the Farnese Bull when you know that it was " restored " by Michael Angelo and is carved from a single block of marble. The great mosaic of Alexander and Darius at the battle of Issus, the thousand paintings recovered from the buried cities, the wonderful collection of cameos and intaglios, the library of papyri, the vases of onyx, and a thousand other things will quickly show you that this is no ordinary museum. And if you have any reverential feeling for your old Latin professor, who taught you the number of 74 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD parts into which all Gaul was divided, go and stand in silence before the portrait bust of the greatest of all the Caesars. It will make the Gallic Wars and the dagger of the " lean and hungry " Cassius seem very real. And, if I mistake not, you will come away with the feeling that this was " the noblest Roman of them all." Every woman knows that Naples is the place to buy pink coral and cameos and tortoise-shell combs. Far be it from me to mar their happiness by saying that most of the pink coral is white coral dyed, that the tortoise-shell is mostly celluloid, and that the cameos are often glass. Length of the Promenadedeckwalk 542 feet english To make one seamile (6076 feet): 11 times one statutemile (5280 feet}: 10 " one kilometre (3281 fee f): 6 " around the promenadedeck PORT SAID TO SUEZ VIII THE GATEWAY OF DE LESSEPS IT is a chill November morning, on a murmurless sea. The stars are blinking sleepily, for their long night's vigil is about over. The silhouette of the lookout shifts to the starboard side of the crow's-nest. He is looking for something. Out of the darkness flashes a light, far away on the right. I figure it out as the Alexandria light, on the site of the first lighthouse that ever was. Later I learn that it is Damiette. Rosy dawn comes up timidly and gently, dead ahead. Pleasant it is to realize that we are steering straight for the East. It is a magnificent sight, and the man who would rather be in bed well, let him be in bed. The radiance of the dawn deepens in brilliancy and in colour and then a glorious sun comes right up out of the water and crimsons the whole eastern sky. It seems as if all the ancient glory of the barbaric East were bursting through the Canal and coming out to meet us! Only twice have I seen such a sunrise before last week at the Strait of Gibraltar, and years ago in the Sahara. Presently the lofty lighthouse of Port Said pops up in the paling sunlight and the passengers come 76 THE GATEWAY OF DE LESSEPS 77 on deck. There is De Lesseps, waiting to usher us into the mouth of the Canal. We pass in between the statue and the dredges, with the waterfront of Port Said on our right. On we go, past " Hunter's Rye " and " Pear's Soap," and anchor near the Canal Offices. I have had my first view of the Suez Canal. With equal vividness, tinged with pathos, is my last memory of it. It is the Westward cruise now, and this is the last of the Orient. We have come in from Cairo, and the ship's band is lined up to meet us, playing, " I Don't know Why I Love You, But I Do." Even the music-steward is getting affectionate as the cruise nears its close ! We go up the plank and the Cleveland picks up its anchor, like a woman gather- ing up her skirts, and we slip slowly out past the India Mail and De Lesseps, with the dainty fishing-boats on the far-off horizon looking exactly like butterflies flitting over the sea. From a little rowboat alongside, we have just had the smiling farewell of Dr. Hough, the lecturer. From here he goes to the Holy Land, thence across Europe to meet us again. When the homeward-bound Cleveland reaches Cherbourg, the wire says that he is dangerously ill in Paris; and when we dock at Ho- boken, they say that he has gone to the Holier Land. Surely he was one of the Lord's noblemen! On landing at Port Said to take the train for Cairo, it was lucky for us that the Reisebiiro relieved us of all hand-baggage, for we fell into the waiting arms of the biggest band of the biggest rascals that the sun ever shines upon. It is seldom that a vendor or 78 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD a dragoman pesters me. All over North Africa and the Farthest East, I have found that I can generally sidetrack him at once by looking sternly in his eye and holding up the palm of my hand in a simple, re- pelling gesture. If the first application does not pro- duce the desired effect, I do not argue nor do I plead dire poverty. I offer him, in perfect seriousness, ten cents for a silk shawl, or two cents for a necklace of beads. Almost invariably he leaves me in disgust and presently I see a fellow-passenger frantically try- ing to shoo him off with a stick ! But the mystic sign fails at Port Said. On each visit I have had to walk about the town with a " guide " whose services had been declined in every tongue whose alphabet is known to me. But at the pier I was always the winner. The satisfaction of hearing him pour forth his soul in the most lurid of Arabic denunciation when I had left him penniless is a pleasing memory. Port Said is a dirty, low-grade European town of something like 25,000 persons. Of these, 24,995 are " guides," I believe. The other five are in jail. The town is modern and has absolutely nothing worth see- ing except what may be seen from a carriage or during a vexatious walk in the streets. Go into the pilot's office, if you have time, and see the wooden model of the Canal, with the system of flags marking the position of each vessel that is passing through. Go also to the De Lesseps statue, standing there with a map of the Canal in one hand and gracefully inviting the world to enter. It bears the motto " Aperire ter~ THE GATEWAY OF DE LESSEPS 79 ram gentibus," which is, being interpreted, " I did it with my little thinker, gents ! " If you have come to Port Said with the expectation of having all your tender moral sensibilities shocked, a great disappointment is in store for you. Port Said is dirty and smelly and coal-dusty, but I agree with Sir Frederick Treves that " its pretence to espe- cial eminence in the matter of depravity cannot be allowed." However, it is no Ocean Grove or Egyp- tian Chautauqtta. The Clevelanders do not sail through the Suez Canal. They do something better ride alongside by train, seeing everything worth while and saving a lot of time. From Port Said we followed the Canal to Ismailia, which is about halfway. There we turned off towards Cairo. Returning from Cairo to Ismailia, we followed the other half of the Canal to Suez. Com- ing westward, we reversed the programme. The Suez half of the trip is especially hot and dusty, for the train runs through hot sand and is not protected by an avenue of trees, like the Port Said end. The ships in transit are very near and make an impressive panorama. Once in a while, if you keep your eyes on the line of the Canal, you may see an odd phenomenon. Half a mile distant, apparently sticking up out of the sand, are the funnels of a steamship. Were it not for the smoke that is coming out of them, you would wonder what wreck is buried out here in the drifting sand of the desert. Such is the illusion across the yellow sand when a dune in- tervenes between the train and the waterway. 80 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD The eastern shore of the Canal seems to be a desert waste, except where the waterway runs through a lake. It is a wild land but picturesque, especially when the camels bob up along the banks where the work- men are enlarging the passageway. On approaching the lakes, especially the Bitter Lakes, you become be- wildered. Is that a real village, a real hut, or a real cluster of palms on the real margin of a real lake, or is it a mirage? Or is it both? This Canal land- scape has been called dreary and monotonous. To me it is picturesque beyond words. I have never seen anything just like it, not even in the Sahara. Ismailia, the halfway-house, looks like a cluster of diamonds and emeralds when seen from' a distance, but it is really a village of about 4,000 whose former glory has packed up and moved on. Suez, where the Westward party leaves the ship, is also a station for pilgrims on their way to Mecca. It is of further interest to those who still consider it to be the place where the Israelites crossed the Red Sea. The prevailing opinion now seems to be that it was higher up, at the Bitter Lakes, perhaps. Half a day's journey from Suez are the Wells of Moses an oasis out in the desert. Moses may have drunk from them, but you must seek some other book for that assurance. There is nothing in the town of Suez worth bother- ing about, and so the party makes no halt in the Arab town itself. But when you speak of the harbour of Suez there is where you arouse my enthusiasm. It is of a beautiful blue, like turquoise in the sunlight, THE GATEWAY OF DE LESSEPS 81 and the background is bright-yellow sand and a lofty range of "black-violet" cliffs (Gebel Attakah). En- rapture yourself with the Bay of Naples, if you will. I vote for the Gulf of Suez. The story of the Suez Canal could very easily be told in ten chapters of this book, but all the essential facts can be huddled together on a piece of paper small enough to go into your helmet. Here they are : The largest passenger boat that has passed through the Canal is the Cleveland. The widest is the drydock Dewey, now at Manila. It is not the first canal in Egypt. Seti I started one from the Nile to the Red Sea, and Ptolemy II finished it about a thou- sand years later rapid work for the Egyptian. It lasted until A.D. 761 and then went the way of everything else that the Egyptians ever tried to run. De Lesseps was not the inventor of the Great Idea of the Suez Canal. Even Rameses and Napoleon tinkered with the idea. But De Lesseps dug it. Work was begun in 1859 and finished in 1869. It was opened in 1870, with 4,000 invited guests, including Empresses and Crown Princes. And there surely was a hot time in the old town that night ! They didn't even have to pay for scarabs. It cost about a million dollars a mile. Not more than half of this was graft. It could be dug to-day for about one-fourth of the original cost. England fought the Canal tooth and nail until it began to creep across the hot sand. Then the British diplomat began to man- oeuvre to get control. He got it. The Khedive's shares were offered first to France when the pawnbrokers went back on him. The French bankers were willing, but wanted their Government to back them up. A cor- respondent got the story and wired it to London. Lord Beacons- field (Disraeli) got the Rothschilds out of bed at midnight and borrowed twenty million dollars on his personal I.O.U. By morning the Canal was British. The French bankers read the 82 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD news in Le Temps that morning and said as follows: !! (I *! X !_*_!M!_ X *_ The shares that Disraeli bought for twenty millions are now said to be worth 135 millions. It is Lord Milner who has asked : " Would it really be a very enormous sacrifice, or a very extraor- dinary act of generosity on the part of Great Britain, if we were to devote say one-fourth of the clear profit that we have made out of this fortunate transaction to the people of the country at whose expense we have made it?" There is a statue of De Lesseps at Port Said. But where is the statue of Disraeli? And where are the two statues of the correspondent who did it? Ismail, the borrower, died in exile. De Lesseps, the digger, died in poverty and in a madhouse. Said Pasha, who signed the original contract, had Port Said named after him. Surely " the way of the transgressor is hard ! " The Canal is neutralized to the extent that no nation can use it in time of war to the exclusion of another. But when England goes to war and a hostile fleet heads for the Canal on the way to attack India, you will see that there are tricks even in canal trades. The distance from England to India by the old route is 10,860 miles; by the Canal, 4,620. Your trip from New York to Bombay has been shortened by about 3,500 miles all sea- miles, too. The Canal is about 100 miles long. Width at waterline, 80 to 90 yards. Depth about thirty feet. There is a siding every few miles, with a system of block signals. The speed-limit is six miles an hour, except in the lakes. Average transit takes 17 hours. Electric lights help at night. On an average, about a dozen ships a day pass through, two- thirds of them being British. Passengers average about 650 a day, one in three being a soldier. The fare is $2 per passenger and $1.50 per net ton for ships. The gross annual income is about $25,000,000. It costs the Cleveland about $25,000 to go through. By send- ing the passengers to Cairo by train and taking them aboard again at Suez (and vice versa), $1,000 is saved. But the pas- sengers have twenty-four hours longer in Cairo at expensive hotels ! CAIRO IX THROUGH THE LAND OF GOSHEN i DID we have one grand time in Cairo? We cer- tainly did. Joy-rides on the rolling camel, dances at Shepheard's with officers of the Scots Guards, sail-boats on the mystic Nile, drives to the Citadel and Ghezireh, moonlight at the Pyra- mids and the Sphinx, coffee at the Cafe Egyptienne, wild dissipation in the silk and bead bazaars, nights in the Streets of Cairo home was never like this! We love our India and Japan, but oh, you Cairo ! And did Cairo have a grand time with us? It cer- tainly did. It sold us fake scarabs to its heart's con- tent. It unloaded all the bead-necklaces and spangled shawls that were left over from the last tourist party. It raked in the gold-pieces for guiding us to " sights " that were free to all-comers. And it But how else do you expect Pharaoh to make a living without work? It all comes back to-night like a journey in our dreams, that hot afternoon ride from Ismailia to Cairo. The dazzling light; the mingling of clover growing green with the golden waves of ripening grain; the men with the short hoe in the cotton-fields and the daughters of Egypt with water-jars; the white 83 84 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD donkeys, the creaking water-wheels, the rising and falling shadoofs and then that wonderful sunset be- hind the palms, seen across the level of a landscape whose picturesque beauty cannot be surpassed in any of the younger lands. As we are being whirled across the burning sand in the early afternoon, a small station flashes by and the eye catches the signboard TEL-EL-KEBIR ! This is the one spot of historic interest on the way, for here it was that a little handful of soldiers in brown made England the successor of the Pharaohs. Just on the other side is a little cemetery with Chris- tian crosses in it that must be the place where the fallen of England lie buried. At Zagazig we pause for refreshments. A stage- villain with a tray of lemonade looks to me like a life-buoy to a man struggling in the water. I drink one glass and give him a shilling. Another passenger does the same. The villain short-changes us, hoping that the train will move before we can count our piastres and translate them into shillings and cents. The signal is given and the train starts. The other man gets even by grabbing a second glass and drink- ing it. I grab three empty glasses and the villain's fez. Result : I get my change. No mistake about it ; this is Egypt! The official programme begins with hotel life in the city of the Nile. We landed in the two best places in Cairo, right in the thickest of things. Those who could not be happy without writing to the home town on Shepheard's stationery, went in that direction. THROUGH THE LAND OF GOSHEN 85 Those who were a little finicky about their food went to the Continental. The block between the two was a jam of travellers and dragomen from that time on, and citizens took to the other sidewalk. Now, of all places in the world, this is the one where it pays to sit around the hotel porch. These hotels have broad terraces elevated above the side- walk, and the street is a continuous performance that cannot be matched anywhere. The programme is changed at different hours of the day, but you may get some idea of it in the evening if I insert here a page or two from a traveller's notebook: I stroll out on the terrace of the Continental. The other pas- sengers are all at the ball at Shepheard's, and the tables here amid the potted palms are nearly deserted. Yonder is an Eng- lishman, content merely to sit at his ease. Here comes a Frenchman, seeking a more exotic form of recreation. There at the railing is a clean-shaven American, with a twinkle in his eye as he compares it with Main Street at home. Each has his lady, and each lady is arrayed in the most joyful millinery that she possesses. But this is only the audience in the box; the show is outside. The street between the sidewalks is visible over the railing. Electric-cars and victorias pass in a bewildering procession, with an auto full of Turks every minute. Some kind of a European comes along on a white donkey, chaperoned by a native. Fol- lows a blind man led by a boy. A big red mail-wagon, with Star and Crescent and the letters " G. P. O.," comes next. Then a two-wheeled cart drawn by a donkey, who is in turn drawn by an Egyptian in rags ; a woman in black with closely veiled face sits squarely in the centre of the wagon. And now a gaudy push-cart the ice-cream parlour! And so the stream of life flows on, amid all the changing dynasties. The city is yet so truly Oriental that the foreigner is lost in the crowd. Faces of every type known to this 86 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Eastern world are here Turk and Arab, Copt and Armenian, Hindu and Sudanese, Jew and Italian, fellah and townsman, pasha and policeman. Now and then, like a spectre in black, glides the silent, shrouded woman of Egypt, her piercing eyes looking out upon the world as from a cage. But strangest of all is the absence of childhood from the street. The British also are rare. Once in a while a trio of artillery- men or a duet of the Scots saunters by, but the majority of the whites are from other nations. Nearly all of the women and girls who pass with their escorts have pallid faces. This is evidently not a happy land for the white woman. I go over to the railing. Here, of course, I am free from in- trusion, for there are three kinds of policemen guarding the steps. Pacing up and down the sidewalk is a trim officer with red fez and black moustache. He wears a close-fitting uniform of black, with a tan belt and tan holster for his club. The second variety sits in a chair. He wears a small black fez, a red zouave blouse covered with gold braid, blue trousers, and putties. Then there are the gorgeous hotel police in scarlet tunics and skirts, with fezzes and gold braid. But I soon discover that these gentlemen are mainly for decorative purposes, for the dragomen and vendors have full swing at me. First come the dragomen, who are in semi- European costume or in long night-gowns and sashes. " Good- evening, Sir ! " is the way each begins. One, who explains that he was guide to Mr. Robert Hichens, wants to take me to see the Pyramids by moonlight. No ? " Then you want guide to-morrow?" "You want go see girl dance?" And so on through the list of questions. As soon as one drops the case as hopeless, another steps up and begins where his predecessor began. It takes half an hour for the troupe to convince them- selves that I am anchored on the terrace. Now the vendors begin. The following is an exact record of a half-hour. Three in baby-blue night-dresses and white tur- bans want to sell flowers. One in pale blue insists that I need a reed fly-brush. Another, in dark blue, has an armful of post- cards and postage-stamps for collectors. A newsboy with the Egyptienne gets the first piastre simply because it is pleasant to see a boy for a change. Now comes a Turk in a blue nightie, over which he wears THROUGH THE LAND OF GOSHEN 87 a black overcoat; he has canes for the American. He is fol- lowed by a handsome young Turk with a load of " silver " shawls. This young man behind him, who adds a touch of brown to the brilliant landscape, is eager to part with black and white ostrich feathers. I shoo him away and am sorry, for he is succeeded by a beardless thief with a box of scarabs. A native in white with a black cap and jacket comes along with doilies embroidered with Egyptian hieroglyphics. I buy one, and am instantly besieged by a man with a stack of red fezzes, another with a load of cheap jewelry, a small hunchback with an armful of weekly papers, and an old man with an armful of buggy-whips. Next is the bread-wagon a man with a basket suspended from his neck, and with the rings of bread sus- pended by pegs. Even he tries to tap the till of the opulent traveller. Observe that, as a rule, only one vendor of a kind is given honourable mention in this list. I regret that I kept no count of the duplicates thrown into the discard. Physically and mentally weary of the turmoil, I stroll down the Sharia Kamel, past the gaily decorated terrace of Shep- heard's, past a combination of goat and monkey and tambourine, and fetch up at the Cafe Egyptienne. Here are the upper-class Orientals, sipping coffee, playing dominoes, and listening to the orchestra of European girls. On I go, past cafe after cafe of fair-skinned men in fezzes always drinking black coffee and playing dominoes and talking politics. This must be " Young Egypt." I slip into the El Dorado and find a smoky, boisterous audience enraptured with a decidedly inferior performance of the dance that made the Streets of Cairo famous. In a narrow street I am passed by a platoon of mounted European police, patrolling the lower world. I hear the unmistakable strains of the weird dance music again and pursue it discovering that it comes from a meat-market where an auction is evidently in progress. The French language greets my ears on every side. Turkish and Russian houries of Omar Khayyam's dream are flaunting themselves on the balconies, some even in the street. I turn up a dark side-street, revel in an Arab quarter of vil- lainous men drinking villainous coffee, and finally become glori- ously lost. After an hour's floundering, I hear the snapping of whips and know that one of the main streets is dead ahead. 88 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Eventually I land at the Continental's terrace again, wondering what the respectable women of Cairo do in the long evenings while their lords are all in the cafes. The next morning the carriages whirl us away for the big show the Pyramids and the Sphinx. Over the Nile Bridge, flanked at either end by large and hungry British lions; past the Kasr-el-Nile Terrace on the farther side, with " Skating Rink " and "American Bowling" in big letters; past a row of billboards in French and English and Egyptian; and then we come to the beautiful boulevard that runs almost straight to the Great Pyramid, with the pal- aces of wealthy Turks on either hand. This being neither a guide-book nor a history, I shall not weary anybody with a cartful of Egyptian lore about Cheops. It is enough to say that the Great Pyramid comes fully up to the specifications, though it doesn't look large enough to cover its thirteen acres. Its height is impressive as you stand at its base, but the best way to get impressiveness is to climb it. The blocks of stone of which it is built are so large and high that a lady with tight skirts cannot climb at all, even with two dragomen pulling and pushing. (Try standing on one foot and placing the other on the dining-room table : that is the Pyramid Step. ) A good climber can reach the top in about an hour, but he will not feel like skipping the rope the next day. It isn't worth while to go inside the Pyramid; better to be on the outside looking in. There are other pyra- mids in the vicinity, but they don't matter. These pyramids stand on an elevation, in a waste BUXOM SORCERESSES OF THE NILE WHAT WOULD RAMESES THINK OF THIS? THROUGH THE LAND OF GOSHEN 89 of yellow sand. You look around for the Sphinx and find that somebody has moved it. It is certainly not in sight. Along comes a native in a soiled gown, with a mangy camel; this is his inning. You are to ride to the Sphinx. Away we go, around the base of Cheops and around another pyramid and the mystery is solved. The Sphinx is at the base of the sand-hill a quarter of a mile beyond. Your first view is the back of the head, and as you wind around the road you come to a point where it appears as shown in the illustration herewith. A deep ravine is hollowed out in front of the image and the traveller has himself photographed on the edge of this canyon, with the Sphinx and the Great Pyramid in the background. But it is a hopeless task to try to give to another a vivid impression of Sphinx or Pyramid. They must be seen in their own pictur- esque setting, with the glare of the brilliant sun in your eyes, and the dead past all about. It happened that both of the Cleveland parties saw this unforgettable scene by moonlight also. To see the yellow moon come up solemnly across the distant horizon of unbroken sand and slowly light up the tip of the Pyramid and finally illumine the grim face of the Sphinx that is something to carry in memory. Were it not for the chatter and the noise, it would be a moment of even greater impressiveness. In any other land, you could take the guides firmly by the back of the neck and sit upon them, but the Egyptian is incontrollable. He insists, at the crucial moment, in descending into the canyon and igniting a calcium 90 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD light when you have come all this distance to see the moon slowly and gradually bring out the details of that wonderful face. And then, after the guide has spoiled the best moment, he makes a tumult if you do not pay him for it! Do you remember Elihu Vedder's painting of " The Riddle of the Sphinx " a man stooping with his ear to those silent lips? When you see the Sphinx, the remembrance of the painting brings a smile. It would take a fireman's ladder to reach those lips! On the afternoon of this first full day in Cairo, you go, let us say, to the Mosque of Sultan Hassan, which was built of stones from the pyramids. Then you drive up to the Citadel, inspect the alabaster mosque of Mohammed Ali, and overlook the city of Cairo and the Tombs of the Mamelukes. Then you are ready for the hotel terrace, dinner in or out of evening dress, and " independent action." If you are not to be lured by dance music in the palm garden, or the fantastic life of the streets, you may drive down to the Nile and charter a little felucca. To float on the Nile by moonlight that also is something worth thinking about. The next morning you go to El Azhar, the largest Mohammedan University in the world, and see per- haps five or six thousand men and boys doing nothing worth their while. It is a Babel of tongues, for the work is mostly that of memorizing the Koran, and everybody talks aloud. The most highly entertaining form of amusement here is the explanation of your guide. His inventive genius is something to marvel at. THROUGH THE LAND OF GOSHEN 91 One of these Mohammedan gentlemen was explain- ing all the mysteries of the place to a group of pas- sengers, when I called his attention to a student with coloured pictures in his hand. I expressed surprise, in view of the fact that " graven images " are a viola- tion of the Law of the Prophet. He went to the boy and returned with the pictures. It was a scene, he explained, that represented the soldiers of the Prophet capturing the spot on which the university stood. I took a good look and begged for details. He then pointed out Mohammed's men and the sol- diers of the enemy, elaborating with much detail and profound seriousness. As a matter of fact, the pic- tures were lithographs from some European book and represented the uniforms of the officers and privates of Austrian Hussars! Most of the information sup- plied to travellers by guides is of equal authenticity. But it goes! Look at your notebook and see! From the University, you go to the Bazaars that is, you go shopping. To the second person masculine, a word of caution: ride in a carriage in which there is no third person feminine, else you may meet the cows coming home when you get away. For the afternoon of this day there are two things especially worth while. One is a visit to the great Museum. It is in some respects the most interesting that you will see around the world. An entire after- noon can be spent to great advantage here, even by the careless traveller. The important thing, of course, is to see the mummies of the Pharaohs to look upon the very faces of men whose names are associated 92 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD with some of the great historical and Biblical events in the life of the world. I take great credit to myself for having recognized Rameses II by sight. I was looking for him a mummy in an erect position and was passing through one hall into another, where I hoped to find him for myself. In passing a show-case, I glanced casually at the shrivelled face and stopped short. After a second look I examined the label, and it was indeed Rameses the Great! But the drive through Old Cairo at the sunset hour that is something not to be missed. The oldest mosque in Cairo is there, and it is one of the most picturesque. And there you may enter a Coptic Church of very great antiquity. The attendant will show you the place where Joseph, Mary, and the Child rested during " The Flight into Egypt." I trust it is no sacrilege to say that the evidence is circum- stantial. From this point you may journey down to the island of Rhoda and see where the daughter of Pharaoh found Moses in the bullrushes ! On your last night in Cairo, in the company of fellow-passengers whose wholesome personalities are a safeguard, get a good guide to pilot you through " the Fish Market " the street of the caged women. In depth and extent of depravity, in filth and bar- baric gaudiness, it probably has no equal in any of the world's reservoirs of vice. It haunts the memory as Dante must have been haunted by his Inferno. THE ROCKY UPHILL ROAD AT CHEOPS X THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA THE Israelites, on a former cruise, went through on dry land, but it was quite moist when we came along. But Moses was steering north- easterly, whereas we were headed southeast. In this passage of the Red Sea I feel that I have missed something something besides the fine camera that vanished on the boat between Perim and Suez. From Sandy Hook to Suez and from San Francisco to Bombay, the one unfailing subject of deck con- versation was the hotness of the Red Sea. And it will be ever so, even when the passage is being made on a Zeppelin Cruise. Then there are the books. " Murray's " goes into great detail by saying that " the heat is great." Sir Frederick Treves writes of " gasping and damp women who had spent a night of steamy misery be- low." And it is something less cool and refreshing than an oven described by my friend Franck in " A Vagabond Journey Around the World " the best book of travel that has been published in years. (Of course, when this sentence was written, this book had not yet been published!) After all this conversation and this sizzling, frying 94 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD literature, I had a right to look forward to the transit of the Red Sea as an event to be remembered, just as a wise and experienced cat recalls that day in his callow youth when he nonchalantly sat on a hot stove- lid. Now I am no press-agent for the Red Sea but just how hot was it really was? Let's ask the ship's ther- mometer, which has no bias in either direction. Eastward Cruise. Nov. 10, at Suez, 69.8 F. Nov. n, at noon, 82.4, and at 4 P.M. 86.9. Nov. 12 and 13, noon, 84.2. Westward Cruise. May i, noon, 90.5 F. ; at 4 P.M. it was 93.2 but dropped to 84.2 at night. May 3, noon, 80.6. Gradu- ally cooler until it reached 73.4 on May 5 at Suez. Sir Frederick Treves ist day, noon, 70. 2d day, 82. 3d and 4th days, 88 ; and in the lower cabins 90. As a further contribution to the subject, I offer the following from my notebook. Eastward : " Red Sea like any other sea. Ship's crew in white; heat not intense." And yet I was spending much of the time in a cabin at the waterline, with the port-hole and all other ventilation sealed up in order to make the cabin a dark-room. The entries on the Westward voyage are as follows : May i. Red hot at noon ; water rough ; ship rocking. Full moon but hot, except in spots. May 2. Cool in afternoon ; shut off electric fan at night and slept under coverlet. May 3. Cool and windy; shut off fan all day. May 4. Cool headwind; white suits disappearing from deck. May 5. Cool and breezy at Suez. No place for " tropical outfit." THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA 95 So much for the Great Solar Myth. The Red Sea is a state of mind. Now for a little geography. With the exception of the short run through the Gulf of Suez, land is seen only at a great distance a few barren islands excepted for the Sea is from 100 to 200 miles wide. Stop in either corner of the promenade deck and learn why the Red Sea is red. In this corner listen intently the name is a contrac- tion of " Red Hot Sea." Pass to the next corner and listen. The Red Sea is red because of its colour ! Everybody looks over the rail and, sure enough! it has a reddish tinge. But it hasn't. Eastward bound, we were near land all of the first afternoon, being in the Gulf. The islands of the Three Brothers early the next morning showed that we were at last in the Red Sea. Here is the list of landmarks: ist day: Sailed from Suez at 3 P.M. Passed Mt. Sinai between 8 and 9 P.M. 2d day: The Three Brothers at 8 A.M. Daedalus Island at 2 P.M. St. John's, 5:30. 3d day : Jebel Tair at 8 A.M. Off Mocha at 6:30 P.M. No odour of coffee! Passed Perim at 10 P.M. 4th day: Passed Aden at 6 A.M. WESTWARD ist day : Passed Aden at 3 A.M. Passed Perim at 9 A.M. Off Mocha at noon. 4th day: Three Brothers at 6:17 A.M. Mt. Sinai at 5 P.M. 5th day: Suez at 5:30 A.M. 96 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD The range of which Sinai is a part is easily visible for a long time, but the Mount of the Law itself can be seen for but a few minutes. The Captain blows a whistle at the optical moment. The Island of Perim is a place of great strategic importance and therefore it is a British possession. It is at the narrowest part of the Strait of Bab-el- Mandeb, about a mile and a half from the Arabian coast and nine miles from Africa. It has a harbour and a blockhouse and a hot village. Its coaling station is one of the best in the East and is protected by a small garrison of soldiers from Aden. You may see the salvage steamers of Perim as you pass. This island is a melancholy place where even water is not to be found. The population is irrigated from a condensing plant. Aden, around the bend in Arabia, has been British since 1839. Its lighthouse is visible for twenty miles. Its reputation for heat equals that of the Red Sea. The only land visible in the Indian Ocean is the island of Socotra, east of Cape Guardafui; it is four days this side of Bombay. Don't worry if the boat misses it. During these long evenings on the summer sea, you might go up to the roof-garden and help Geraldine locate the Southern Cross! BOMBAY XI BOMBAY, PARSEE, AND KIPLING TO stand upon a steamer's deck and watch a strange Oriental city drift slowly toward you in the morning sunlight that brings back the old thrill that used to come every Christmas morning when you saw the bulging stocking. And can you not now recall the thrill of that morning when we rounded the lighthouse that sentinels the Arabian Sea and entered the magnificent harbour of Bombay, the city in which Kipling was born? The eye swept an expanse of anchorage that ex- tended six or seven miles, having a waterfront crowned with stately buildings. Beyond, it rested upon the roof-tops of a million people " all races from all lands." The morning sunlight flashed from the sail- boats of the Royal Bombay Yacht Club and lighted up the printed page before me the dedication of " The Seven Seas " : "TO THE CITY OF BOMBAY" " So thank I God my birth And gave me right to pride. Fell not in isles aside Surely in toil or fray Waste headlands of the earth, Under an alien sky, Or warring tribes untried Comfort it is to say: But that she lent me worth Of no mean city am I." 97 98 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD And then that last view, as we swept majestically out! There, ever dominating the landscape, rises the dome of our old hotel, the Taj Mahal Palace, where we sat around in the beautiful lounge and drank lemon squash! Beyond are the beautiful Victoria Station and the towers and pinnacles of all the great modern city that has upreared itself with such rapidity, the queenly city that Kipling has praised. There is Queen's Road, winding around Back Bay by the Burn- ing Ghat, and onward to the bungalows of Malabar Hill. And there, upon the ridge, are the treetops sentinelled by the gruesome vultures that await the next procession of w y hite-robed figures that shall wind up the stairway to those weird Towers of Silence! On the right, fast fading into the grey of the horizon, is the island of Elephanta, with its caves and deserted altars. But, next to the Towers, the vision that comes oftenest to me as I think of Bombay is that of the Native Town all that confused jumble of streets of which the names of Bhendi Bazaar and Grant Road are alone distinct. Nowhere else in India, not even in Benares, was humanity so massed, so hopeless, so pitiful. And when I think of the extent and the degradation and utter wretchedness of the life that feebly pulsates there, I have it not in my heart to sing the praises of Bombay. Surely there is genius enough as well as money enough in that metropolis to bring surcease to some of its sorrow ! I turn the Bombay newspapers of April 2Oth and read the health report : Fourteen attacks of smallpox, BOMBAY, PARSEE, AND KIPLING 99 with eleven deaths; fifteen new cases of plague and six- teen deaths; one attack of cholera and one death all on this one day. And the Times of India gives me the record of all India for the week ending April i3th 13,490 cases of plague, with 11,305 deaths! But I do not forget the stupendous task that confronts every administrator as he awakes in the morning, the task of lifting a caste-ridden race that lacks also the energy to stand after it has been lifted. Nor do I forget the patient labour of the doctors up there at the Research Laboratory, who daily " milk " the poison-sacs of the cobras to provide a serum that will save from death thousands who are so blind that they will not kill the reptile that bit them, lest they thereby murder a human soul that has been reincarnated in that form ! But let us not overlook the fact that this is a book of travel, not of economics or sociology. Whether you come from the West with eyes that are new, or from the East with vision dimmed by its glare and gaud, Bombay has something for the traveller's eye that may be seen under no other tent the Parsee community. And in designating it as the chief " sight " of Bombay, I do so with unqualified respect for what I consider the finest race of Oriental people in the world. The Parsee is essentially Oriental, however com- pletely he may be Europeanized. Persian in origin and Zoroastrian in religion, he has been in or near Bombay for twelve centuries, and it is lucky for that city that this is so. He has not taken unto wife a daughter of the Hittites or of the Moabites; he has 100 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD not bowed down before strange gods; he has not lifted up his hand against his brother in civil or re- ligious strife; and he has munificently bestowed his worldly goods to feed and otherwise bless the poor of his adopted city. They may aptly, and complimentarily, be called the Jews of India and if they be not in truth descended from one of the Twelve Tribes, then I know not an Israelite when I see him. The Taj Mahal Palace, the finest hotel in all the East, is Parsee. The chief places of business bear the names of Parsee firms. The best- dressed people driving in the finest carriages on the swellest streets, are Parsees. The best educated chil- dren, and the most of them, are Parsees. The only pretty girls in Bombay (except those who have just disembarked from the Cleveland) are Parsees. And so it goes throughout all the uppermost strata and innermost circles of Bombay excepting always such institutions as the Yacht Club, for there is no caste so rigid as the caste of the English-born. One of the places where you may search in vain for a Parsee is the calaboose; another is the haunt of the street- beggar. Now it was the Parsee, remember, and not the Briton, who was nice to us in Bombay. It was some member of this strange people who invited you to that little family function. It was a wealthy Parsee who reserved fifty seats at a Parsee entertainment. And that Parsee wedding didn't just happen so; it was held back because they knew that people on the ship wanted to see it. And may I say in passing, for the benefit of those who have never seen an assembly of BOMBAY, PARSEE, AND KIPLING 101 Parsee women, that they are beautiful enough to make even a blind man forget his home? To these followers of Zoroaster, fire, water, and earth are sacred elements and must not be polluted by decomposition. Their dead, therefore, may not be buried, cremated, or thrown into the sea. Hence the strange custom of laying the bodies on a slab in an enclosed tower and allowing them to be devoured by vultures. The custom has at least one thing to com- mend it the impossibility of infection from con- tagious diseases. The ritual for the disposal of the dead is too lengthy to be given in detail. There is a ceremony analogous to that of Extreme Unction, followed by a ritual that is as painstaking as that of the sterilization of a sur- geon's instruments before an operation. The funeral is always a walking funeral; the body must be carried exposed to the sun, by a multiple of two, and the followers must walk in pairs, with a white cloth connecting each pair. Upon arrival at the Towers of Silence, the family takes leave of the deceased and two bearded men bear it through the gate of one of the towers. Without touching the body with their hands, they remove the covering and leave the body exposed to the view of the vultures. Eventually the dry bones are deposited in a central well, where they are gradually resolved into their original elements. The utmost sanitary precautions are taken throughout. Meanwhile, prayers for the dead are kept up for three days, the time during which the soul is supposed to remain within the precincts of this world. Gifts 102 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD to charity in the name of the deceased are also made, and many other peculiar but commendable customs followed. But the temptation to dwell on the Parsees must be resisted. Some idea of the part they are playing in the best life of Bombay may be gathered from the following (partial) list of benefactions : Institution Benefactor Amount Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy Institute University Hall Elphinstone College Sir J. Jeejeebhoy Sir C. J. Readymoney Sir C. J. Readymoney Maneckjee Cursetjee $400,000 33,000 66,000 Mechanics Institute Elphinstone High School School of Art Clock Tower St. Thomas Fountain St. John's Church King Edward Statue Prince Albert Statue King George Statue (future) Museum Clock Tower Crawford Market Fountain Bomanji Dinshaw Petit Hospital David and Sir A. Sassoon Sir Albert Sassoon Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy Premchand Raichand Sir C. J. Readymoney Cowasjee Jehangir Sir Albert Sassoon Sir Albert Sassoon Sir J. D. Sassoon Sir Albert Sassoon Sir C. J. Readymoney 75.000 50,000 33,000 100,000 23,000 y* of cost 60,000 Gokaldas Jejpal Hospital Pestonji Kama Hospital Allbless Obstetric Hospital Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy Hospital G. Jejpal & R. J. Jeejeebhoy Pestonjee H. Cama Bomanjee E. Allbless Sir J. Jeejeebhoy 150,000 55.000 % of cost Veterinary College Almshouse for Parsees Sir Dinshaw M. Petit Sons of Fardonjee S. Parak site Towers of Silence Sir J. Jeejeebhoy road and land And it is authoritatively stated that within one period of five years (1884-89) the Parsees expended in public charities the sum of $4,000,000. The corresponding figures for the British community are not available. On my first visit to Bombay, having duly seen all that is written in the Book of the Stranger, and some things that are not, I approached the manager of the BOMBAY, PARSEE, AND KIPLING 103 Taj Mahal Palace and asked to be directed to Mr. Kipling's birthplace. But so far as he and the other educated Orientals in the hotel were concerned, I might as well have en- quired for the Islands of the Blest. It was from a genial gentleman connected with the Standard Oil Company that I finally got the clue. He happened to have been investigating the subject and had learned that it was an humble cottage near the Marine Lines station. In half an hour I was at the Marine Lines, but I saw more than one modest building opposite. So I went to the Babu in charge of the ticket-office. " Can you tell me in which of these houses Mr. Kipling was born ? " I asked. He tried to repeat the name, but floundered. Know- ing something of the mental processes of the East, I explained that Mr. Kipling was an English sahib who had written books books about India. The request and the explanation were passed along in Hindustanee to an older and, if possible, graver Babu, by whom they were duly and reflectively con- sidered. The response came in relays by the same circuitous route : " We not knowing where the gentle- man lives ! " " Oh, I know where he lives. But in which of these houses was he born ? " All traces of intelligence van- ished from both faces. I tried all sorts of English-speaking people as they came along the road, but not one could free me from the Wheel of Things. Finally the sympathetic cab- 104 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD driver piloted me to a milk-supply depot across the street. Here I found a group of upper-class Hindus and Parsees, all anxious to be obliging. To them I put the momentous question. They looked at me in silence, as though I spake in an unknown tongue. Once again I explained, in the simplest of language, that a man named Kipling, an English sahib, a poet and writer of books, especially of books about India, who was now living in Eng- land, had been born in one of the houses near their office and would they kindly point it out to me? They resolved themselves into a Committee of the Whole and discussed the matter in all its bearings. Then one of them, acting as spokesman, announced the result with the deliberation of a foreman reading the verdict of a jury in a murder case: " That is not in our line ! " In silence, I allowed my driver to lead me to the club-house of a native gymkhana nearby. Here were a group of fine-looking Eurasians men with the edu- cation, dress, and manners of sahibs. Here, at last, were men to whom the word Kipling might be ad- dressed without the long explanation. " Mr. Kipling was not born in Bombay," instantly spoke up one. " He is from Lahore." " But I am told that he was born in one of the houses over there." " Oh, no. Mr. Kipling never lived in Bombay at all. He was born at Lahore and resided there." And the echo of the others was " Lahore." I was calm, as becomes a man when he is convers- BOMBAY, PARSEE, AND KIPLING 105 ing with the East. " All I know about it," I replied, " is that Mr. Kipling says that he was born here. He has dedicated ' the Seven Seas ' to Bombay and says : ' Mother of Cities to me, For I was born in her gate, Between the palms and the sea, Where the world-end steamers wait." " This was a knock-out, for there were the palms on the one hand, and on the other the smoke of the steamers. " It may be that he was born here while his people were en route to England," suggested one, after they had puzzled over the matter. Much chastened in spirit, I drove away, content that I had discovered, in the city of Kipling's birth, one group of men who had heard the name before and that loomed up before me as a real discovery. On my second visit to Bombay, I sought my Stand- ard Oil friend, who had been requested to go deeper into the search. He had the information. The house was on a side street that turns off near the Marine Lines, at the Goanese Church. His description was so minute that I picked out the house from the head of the street. There remained nothing but to look, photograph, and go in peace. Then I decided that it would be appropriate to make a pilgrimage to the Art School where the elder Kip- ling had taught, and also to see the friezes on the Crawford Market and the Victoria Terminus that had come from the sculptor's hands. 106 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD At the School of Art I was fortunate to find Mr. Cecil Burns, the Principal, who obligingly showed me the plant. " By the way," I said at the door of his bungalow, " can you tell me exactly where Mr. Rudyard Kip- ling was born? " " Not the house, for it has been torn down," he replied. " But I can show you where it stood." He led me about fifty yards distant and pointed it out near a one-story workshop which dates from the Kipling regime. " This is it," he said. I kept my own counsel and photographed this spot also. Then he gave me the School catalogue, and therein I found this sentence: "While Mr. Lockwood Kipling held the post of Modelling Professor in Bombay, his son, Rudyard Kipling, the well-known writer, was born in a small house in the compound in which the School now stands." Surely this India is a strange land a land of " the Twice-Born ! " On the same day you may make photographs of two birthplaces of the same man in the same city ! VULTURES AT THE TOWERS OF SILENCE AUTHENTIC BIRTHPLACE OF MR. KIPLING XII ACROSS INDIA WITH KIM " OPHELIA says not Shakespeare's but that car- toon kid with the slate that getting the worst of it ain't no worse than missing the best of it. If so, then you got the worst of it you who missed the best part of the world-cruise, the overland trip across India. You are sorry now, but I want to massage it in. To cross in the regular way (providing your own bed-clothes, chaperoning your own luggage, enduring the affliction of a man-servant who has pellagra, hookworm, and sleeping-sickness, and haggling in the hot sun with guides and cab-drivers) is enough to make even the robust hesitate. But we did it differ- ently. Note how simple: I tie to each of my hand-bags a label (which some- body has already addressed) and place it outside my stateroom. The luggage vanishes. I go jauntily down the gang-plank, step into a tender, and land at the dock. There I step into a carriage, and get out at the hotel. A slave in a turban looks at the number on my card and escorts me to my room and hither comes my luggage, without calling. On the morning of departure I place my baggage 107 108 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD outside the door and forget it. A carriage takes me to the train. I walk down the line of Durbar coaches until I come to the one that has my compartment number on the outside. Here I find my hand-bags. Also a neat bundle (from the ship) of bedding, towels, and soap, with my name on it. While I am at dinner that evening in the station restaurant or the dining-car, an unseen slave makes my bed. I turn on the electric fan and fall in. And so I cross India without bemoaning the stren- uosity of life in the tropics. The other three tenants of my compartment being men, I ride luxuriously in pajamas. Nobody can enter the compartment for hours, until the train stops again. Besides, nobody aboard has on clothes enough to go visiting anyway. When we get tired of looking, we curl up and snooze; and when we weary of snoozing, we jump into our private tub and turn on the water. And if something goes wrong with the train or the luggage or the food or the carriages, we don't worry we let Lody do it. And in nine cases out of ten Lody does it swiftly. But what has all this to do with Kipling's " Kim " ? If it be permitted, let me first recount my achieve- ments, after the manner of Hurree Chunder Mooker- jee, " M.A. of Calcutta University," otherwise known to the players of the Great Game as " R. 17." Twice have I roamed over the empire where Kim and his Holy One wandered in quest of the River that " washes away all taint and speckle of sin." I ACROSS INDIA WITH " KIM " 109 have seen the " te-rain " to Umballa, the Grand Trunk Road, the Gates of Learning, the Temple of the Tirthankers, " the long peaceful line of the Himalayas flushed in morning gold," and " that wonderful up- land road that leads at last into Great China itself." I have made graven images of Little Friend of All the World, of Mahbub Ali the horse-trader, of Hurree Chunder the Babu, of Chota Lai and Abdullah the sweetmeat-seller's son, of the Amritzar woman with a heart of gold, of the Dispenser of Delights, of the Woman of Shamlegh in her turquoise-studded head- gear, and of " those coming up from the river of life with full water-jars." I have heard the creaking well-windlasses in the yellow afterglow, " the gurgling, grunting hookahs in the still, sticky dark," and the boom of the Thibetan devil-gong. The " ash-smeared fakirs by their brick shrines under the trees," the yellow-trousered Pun- jabi policemen on the Delhi platform, the bhistie sluic- ing the dusty road with his waterskin, the mouse- coloured Brahminee bull, the letter-writer squatting in the shade, the patient coolie pulling at the punkah, the jiggetting ekka and the gaily ornamented ruth of " a virtuous and high-born widow of a hill-rajah on pilgrimage" all these have I seen many times. And, after a search that for a time seemed as hopeless as the lama's search for the River of the Arrow, I have made pilgrimage to the spot where the author of " Kim " was born. Suffer me, therefore, to acquire merit! I was mildly enthusiastic about " Kim " before ever 110 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD I went to India and had placed him in my private calendar of saints, alongside Barrie's " Sentimental Tommy," canonized a dozen years before. But " Kim " was to me then merely the rattling good story of an Irish soldier's outcast, who one day lords it as the son of a sahib and on the next day eats out of the same dish with the fakirs of the Taksali Gate. That was yesterday. To-day " Kim " is to me the best guide-book that the traveller may take to India. No other book that I know of so clearly unfolds that wonderful land and its mysterious customs. The life of India that is set forth in " Kim " is the life that the traveller sees everywhere in the Empire, " every detail lighted from behind like twigs on tree- tops seen against lightning." As now, with closed eyes, memory goes racing back over the highways of British India north to the Punjab, east to the lowlands of Bengal, north again to the Himalayan snows, and southeast to the old Rangoon pagoda one vision stands out sharp and clear against a confused background of palaces, mosques, and hovels. It is the vision of Indian boy- hood that pathetic silhouette that unconsciously stands in picturesque pose against every Indian sky- line. It was not astride the green-bronze cannon across from the Wonder House at Lahore, but lounging lazily against a pile of rubbish on the Ganges, that I first saw Kim in the flesh. He was a picture that would have delighted the soul of an artist. Half-sitting, half -stand ing there against the stone and mortar of a " LITTLE FRIEND OF ALL THE WORLD KIM AND A FAQUIR OF THE TAKSALI GATE ACROSS INDIA WITH " KIM " 111 ruined temple, something out on the sacred river had caught his eye and made him oblivious to everything else. Over his head was stretched a queer little cap made from a piece of cloth; this and one solitary rag of clothing shone out white in the Benares sun. Other- wise, boy and background were of one colour. Hugged to his breast was a crude stringed instrument, and beside him was the water- jar that had probably brought him to the river. As he turned his face and caught sight of the sahib and his kodak, his lithe body braced itself for a bound, like that of a startled deer. Then a half- mischievous smile parted his lips and he held out his hand instinctively in that sign of distress that is a badge of Indian brotherhood. It was unmistakably Kim Kim as he must have looked as he stood before the Amritzar girl and implored the Breaker of Hearts for " a little ticket to Umballa." Of all the boys of India, the little chap there below the Nepalese Temple remains the most fascinating in memory. Within a week I saw him again. This time it was on the banks of the Hooghly and he was perhaps about a year older about the age of Kim when he besought Mahbub to " let the hand of friendship turn aside the whip of calamity." Sitting on a step like a sahib instead of upon the ground, he held a bag of sweet- meats in one hand and clutched a cigarette in the other. Had his hair and features not been unmis- takably Aryan, his deep colour would have made him an Ethiopian, but the eyes were grey-blue. The pose recalled to me the scene with the letter-writer, where TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Kim ends his dictation of a letter to Mahbub with this fine touch of Irish humour : " Send me some money, for I have not sufficient to pay the writer who writes this!" Kim was even now in the company of one of the fakirs. A few feet from him, squat on a piece of carpet, was one of the most picturesque holy bodies that I saw outside of Benares. He was not ash- smeared like the others, and his skin was almost ebony. The blackness of his face was enhanced by the jet- black hair encircling it and falling on his shoulders, while his caste-mark stood out like a semaphore signal set at " full stop." But it was not sufficiently divert- ing to prevent the most casual observer from seeing that an i8-carat rogue was behind the caste-mark. It was in the city of the Taj Mahal that I ran into old Mahbub Ali, the horse-trader who pursued the Flower of Delight with the feet of intoxication. Mahbub was even then rolling across the serai toward the Gate of the Harpies, but there was a quizzical twinkle in his eye that seemed to say : " The pedigree of the white stallion is fully established ! " I recog- nized old Mahbub a block away, for a burly brown man coming down a sunlit street and waving a beard that has been dyed to a shade between scarlet and orange is no inconspicuous personage. Hurree Chunder was not so easily located. There were Babus everywhere, of course, and plenty of them with college degrees, for India has five great universities. The term " Babu " originally meant Mr. or Esq., but in the usage of to-day it is applied ACROSS INDIA WITH " KIM " 113 to any native clerk who writes English. It was also no difficult task to encounter a Babu whose bombastic language and self-complacency were like unto Hurree Chunder's. Nor was it rare to find one so obese that he waddled like a water-logged derelict in a rough sea. Moreover, the big umbrella, the patent-leather shoes, and the openwork stockings were as thick as leaves on an autumnal day but none of them be- longed to R. 17. It was nigh unto the Golden Pagoda at Rangoon that I at length found him. He was now in the guise of " a most sober Bengali from Dacca, a master of medicine," sitting behind bottles and testimonials " telling what things he has done for weak-backed men and slack women," and those lamentable colics that overtook the grandchild of the sharp-tongued old lady of Saharunpore. It was too much to hope that chance would bring across my path the wandering feet of the old lama of Suchzen, " still burning with his inextinguishable hope." Thibetan lamas are Buddhists, and Buddhism is dead in India proper. I saw a Buddhist priest reverently making his devotions at the great tower of Sarnath, near the Temple of the Tirthankers, but he was a Japanese on a pilgrimage to the Five Holy Places, of which Sarnath is one. None of the red lamas around Darjeeling seemed to fit the part. When the old lama had made the surprising dis- covery that his beloved chela was the son of a sahib, you remember, and had secretly resolved to bear the cost of " one expensive education," he was told by 114 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD the priest that " the best education a boy can get in India is, of course, at St. Xavier's in Partibus at Lucknow." While waiting in the Lucknow station for break- fast, therefore, I went to the English-speaking native at the news-stand and asked for the location of St. Xavier's. His face looked troubled, so I added : " St. Xavier's a school for sahibs and hali-sahibs." He was not sure about it. He called two other Hindus and they talked it over. They said it was far up-town. Then I asked the manager of the restaurant. He repeated the name doubtfully. "Oh, never mind!" I said. "The driver of the ticca-gharry will know. A cab-driver is sure to know the best boys' school in India." After the regular programme was finished at the Palace of Lights, my watch said that I had three hours in which to see St. Xavier's, lunch, and board the train. I therefore stepped lightly into the gharry and said: "St. Xavier's." Nothing happened. The driver sat placidly and awaited orders. " St. Xavier's ! " I repeated, sharply. The Mohammedan gentleman who held the reins gave me the mystic sign that denotes an intellect hopelessly bewildered. "You not knowing St. Xavier's?" I said. "St. Xavier's big madrissah madrissah for sahibs! " Ah ! the mystery clears. Away we go up the white ACROSS INDIA WITH " KIM " 115 and dusty road along the bank of the Gumti. At last he pulls in his horse and points across the half- dried river to a cluster of buildings in the trees. "St. Xavier's?" I ask. " Yes, Sahib. Canning College. Very fine ! " " Canning College no want," I reply. " Canning College new school." " Yes, Sahib. New school. Very fine ! " In words of one syllable, slowly but with much emphasis, I make it clear that I seek St. Xavier's a madrissah for the sons of sahibs, a Catholic madrissah. We drive merrily for half an hour in another direc- tion and stop in front of another college. I look at the sign and see " Reed Christian College " and long for the native tongue that I may speak to the driver in the " blistering, biting appropriateness " of the old lady of Saharunpore. We go on, but more slowly now. At another large building I get out and walk across a bare campus to a large tablet. Here I read the name of the Bishop who laid the corner-stone of another mission school. It is impossible for this to be St. Xavier's. A schoolboy comes across the square and I inter- cept him. I explain the whole story in the simplest English and tip him to tell it to my driver in any or all of the 147 vernaculars of India. Then we start off again. Ah! the trail is getting warm. Against the sky is a large crucifix a Roman Catholic Church. St. Xavier's was a Catholic college. And there, just be- yond, is a group of school buildings. It is " a block 116 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD of low white buildings," and must be the Gates of Learning. But not so. The sign says " St. Francis' School." There stood the boys, however sahibs and half- sahibs. To one of them I propound the riddle. No, he knew of no school in Lucknow of that name. And if there were another Catholic school of that size, he was sure that he would have heard about it. I had reached the end of a blind trail and been pocketed. Since special trains do not wait for isolated travellers who are off on " independent action," I hurried away to the station without opportunity for further investigation. It has since dawned upon me that perhaps Mr. Kipling intentionally " muddied the wells of en- quiry " to prevent any school from using his remark as publicity. He may have made a composite school out of the fine old La Martiniere and the school of St. Francis, for instance. But, at any rate, I have seen all the big schools of Lucknow and therefore seen the Gates of Learning! About the Temple of the Tirthankers there is no such uncertainty. Before starting out to Sarnath, I drew near to a group of guides at the hotel. They represented the best that is to be had in the line of intelligence and knowledge of English. I asked just where, on the road to Sarnath, I should pass the Temple of the Tirthankers. Each insisted that there was no such place. Had I been asking for such a temple in Benares, this reply would not have been surprising but the Tirthankers ACROSS INDIA WITH " KIM " 117 is the only temple anywhere near Sarnath. Finally one of the guides, with an eye on the future, asked what there was about it to interest a traveller. I told him the story of Kim and the lama who had made the temple his headquarters for three years. " Spell the name for me," he suggested. I did so. His face beamed. Ah! I had not pro- nounced it correctly. No wonder he had not known it. Then I asked that he set my wayward pronuncia- tion back into the right path. " Temple of the TYrthankers," he explained, with a slight accent on the first syllable. He knew it well. All right. Where is it? He guessed, and missed it utterly. He was lying just like just like a guide. Also, it must be confessed, Mr. Kipling himself has missed it three miles, for he locates Sarnath " about a mile outside the city." He also says that the clamour of Benares " beat round the walls as the roar of a sea round a breakwater." But any one may verify the fact that Sarnath is about four miles distant, and it is one of the loneliest and quietest places in Bengal. But Mr. Kipling, so far as I can ascertain, was never in Benares, which explains the slip. If he had ever ridden over those four hot and dusty miles, he would not have made that Jullunder farmer carry a sick son in his arms all the way to the Tirthankers' door! Also, he would have told of the lama's en- thusiasm over the Wonder House at Sarnath, for it is full of Buddhist sculpture that would have delighted the old man's soul for this is where Buddhism had its beginning. 118 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD I regret that I cannot record a meeting with the Mavericks " nine hundred first-class devils, whose god was a red bull on a green field." I found first- class devils a-plenty, but they were not Irish. Beneath the stars of Bombay and Calcutta, Private Atkins gen- erally conversed with a Welsh or a Yorkshire accent. At the Delhi encampment, he was usually in the kilties of the Black Watch or the Seaforth Highlanders. At Cawnpore, he was a majestic Gordon Highlander. Somewhere else he was of the King's Own Scottish Borders. I have only a faint recollection of having once heard the Irish brogue coming out of the dark like the roll of a snare-drum. Zum durstigen Elephanten IN THE CITY OF THE TAJ XIII AFTERGLOW OF MOGHUL SPLENDOUR NOW let us have no hard feelings about it, Eunice. I am willing to endorse every ex- quisite sentence in the literature of the Taj Mahal, but I firmly decline to have hysterical fits over the story that goes with it. 'Cause why? Let's take the works out of it and look at them. In the first place, we are all agreed that it took more than twenty years to build it, but we do not know whether it cost 18,465,186 rupees or 31,748,026 the reason being that we cannot find the receipted bill in Shah Jahan's letter-file. Now you know what we say in our country about a man who won't settle his wife's funeral expenses. You have stood there with moistened eyes, in the cupola of the marble palace where he died, looking out upon Mumtaz's tomb, and have mourned the sad fate of a proud old man dethroned and imprisoned by his own son and the son of the Lady of the Taj, at that. And you also have some very romantic ideas about his deathless devotion to his queen and recalled that poem over which you used to weep something about " he never smiled again." I hate to spoil the story, Eunice, but do you know 119 120 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD how Jahan got his start in life? By murdering his brother and every other relative who could possibly claim the throne of Akbar. Then he undertook to lift the old man out of the throne, but Jahangir beat him in the primaries and Jahan had to move into another precinct. And he was just organizing another campaign when death came along and made him the heir to the Moghul throne, thanks to his foresighted- ness in the matter of the other candidates. That which happened to him in his old age, therefore, was more merciful than he had any just right to expect. He thought a lot of Mumtaz, no doubt about that; but you are very wrong in thinking that she was the only pebble on the Jumna beach. As a matter of his- tory, he had so many wives that he couldn't keep track of them without a card catalogue, but it may not be true that each had her first name engraved on her belt-buckle so that he might know what to call her. Don't you remember all those ladies' apartments there in the Palace? Surely you did not think that Jahan took in boarders! The ladies who filled those halls with joyful song when they were sure that the Shah was not trying to get a nap were all on his per- sonal staff. No other man dared so much as whistle to one of them or wave his handkerchief from the other side of the river. And those deep pockets in the marble walls of the Golden Pavilions did you understand that this was where Mumtaz kept her jewels while she was washing the supper dishes? Mumtaz needed only one pocket for that, but here they were, all around the big rooms. Whose jewels do you suppose went into them? And where did they get the jewels? And that royal bathroom, furnished with all modern improvements, including dome and side-walls plastered with mirror tiling did you think that Jahan built that for Mumtaz to scrub the children in? She was never under any such illusion. And when you were looking down into the Machchi Bhawan, where the Emperor used to sit in the shade and fish, did you never wonder who it was that was putting the worms on the hook for him? I am afraid, Eunice, that, as they say up in Boston, you have had the wrong dope. You have been picturing the Lady of the Taj as a sort of Oriental dream, a petite brunette with large and lustrous and soulful eyes and with cute little ways a kind of ingenue and show-girl combined. Mumtaz may have looked something like that when Jahan first began to send the candy, but at the time of which we write she was the mother of seven children. And it is an unfortunate habit of all Oriental women to materially change in appearance when they reach that stage of life. The waist-line becomes dislodged and slips up under the arm-pits, and they appear otherwise negligee. Take it from me, Eunice, Mumtaz sleeps in the Taj for reasons wholly disconnected with her per- sonal appearance. Blood and rearing had something to do with it. Do you remember a beautiful little tomb across the river from Agra? The name of Ittnad-ud-Daulah is 122 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD on the doorplate, and a precious old rascal was he. His wife was the grandmother of Mumtaz, and she must have been a jewel of a woman, one who knew how to bring up girls. Her daughter had the mis- fortune to be one of the wives of Jahangir, Jahan's father. Jahangir was a dissipated sot, but this wife loved him right on through it all and did her best to get him into the Band of Hope. Now this wife's brother was the father of Mumtaz, and both she and Grandma had a lot to do with getting the future Lady of the Taj started right. When the little girl became Empress of the Moghul Empire only one short year before her death she had a lot of family tradition to live up to. And she did it. I can't prove it by the letter-file, but something tells me that Mumtaz knew the worst about her Lord of the Two Horns and stood right by him in spite of all. If she didn't always know exactly what was going on there in the shady corner of the porch, she knew it was going on but she didn't go out on the balcony and yell up the neighbours. And when the Shah would come in from a hard day's work of subduing rebel chieftains and annexing their domains, Mother was right on the job. That bunch of chattering chorus-girls would flock around him, as he sat there by the fountain with his tired feet cooling in the water, and see what they could find in his pockets in the line of court-jewels. But Mumtaz would come along and say : " Father, you are working yourself too hard; you ought to let George do some of it. Bring your pipe into the sitting-room RAJPUTANA BAND PLAYING " SUWANEE RIVER IT HAI'l'F.XKl) IN THE CITY OF THE TAJ AFTERGLOW OF MOGHUL SPLENDOUR 123 and lie down on the sofa while I rub some liniment on your back." That's the kind of a woman Mumtaz was I'll bet my hat on it. And that is why she is the Lady of the Taj to this day. If one of those simpering typewriters had rubbed his head for three minutes, she would have wanted a quart of emeralds for it. And when she went out she left a great hole in his life, one that nobody else could fill. It was easy enough to fill those marble terraces with gorgeous butterflies, but he never found anybody who could sit in Mother's chair over in the corner. Let us be glad that he appreciated her and set about building something that should be worthy of her. The whitest marble there at Jeypore, three hundred miles away, was none too good nor too hard to get. Every man in the Empire who had a big idea about mauso- leums could call him up freely on the telephone in the middle of the night. Men who had spent their lives making caskets for jewels were invited to bring their skill to the Palace and lay out colour-schemes for beautifying the tomb. The Taj and Solomon's Temple those were the two stupendous building tasks of antiquity that used up all the high-grade talent that could be found in the land or imported. And the result was this immense casket of beautiful white, with its dome nearly two hundred feet in the air and its shapely minarets at the four corners of the platform. On the side opposite the Jumna was laid out the spacious garden, with a wide watercourse down the vista of cypresses to the Great Gateway of red 124 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD sandstone and marble cupolas. And even beyond this is an outer court and a mosque of red sandstone to add impressiveness even to the approach. Pass reverently within the portal of the Taj and grope your way through the dim light that filters through marble lace. You are within an octagonal room with 24-foot sides, directly beneath the dome. Side by side in the centre, enclosed by a screen of white marble, are the cenotaphs of Shah Jahan and Mumtaz, exquisitely chiselled and inlaid the Queen's having also the ninety-nine names of God. Above hangs a costly Cairene lamp the beautiful gift of Lord Curzon. But you must descend through a dark passageway to a vaulted chamber beneath if you would stand in the presence of that which is mortal of the Great Moghul and his famous wife. One of the remarkable features about the interior of the Taj is its echo. And surely the pathetic " Rosary " has never been sung amid more appropriate surroundings nor heard with such feelings of emotion as when it was sung by one of the Cleveland ladies here in this echoing tomb. Does the Taj Mahal come up to the specifications ? Yes, seen from any angle or at any hour of the day, by sunlight or moonlight or twilight. From Bombay came a special party of 250 people, travelling two nights and a day by train; they spent the day in Agra, and returned over the same monotonous route but it was worth it. The British deserve great credit for the manner AFTERGLOW OF MOGHUL SPLENDOUR 125 in which they have preserved and restored these Moghul memorials. Akbar's great fort is of course occupied in part by the garrison, but the Palace is un- touched. Instead of utilizing these historic pavilions as the offices of state, they are reserved for the enjoy- ment of the traveller. That Palace of Jahan would have been a beautiful place for the lieutenant-gov- ernor; the mausoleum of Itmad-ud-Daulah might eas- ily have become some official's summer villa; and the great enclosure at Sikandra would have been worthy of even a Viceroy. But they are held sacred to the memory of the great Moghuls. That was the most glorious epoch of India, when the magnificent court of the Moghuls shone in its splendour on the banks of the Jumna at Agra or at Delhi. Never again, in all probability, will the world have in it such barbaric displays of wealth and beauty and wickedness. And, with the bloody, merciless record of these great sovereigns in your mind, drive out to Sikandra, climb up to the white marble court on the top of Akbar's great mausoleum, and stand in silence at the tomb of the one noble and humane con- queror in the Moghul Hall of Fame. For the convenience of those who have made the pilgrimage to Agra and of those who shall follow after, the following memorandum of the Moghul Em- perors is here inserted : THE GREATEST OF THE MOGHULS (i) Baber, 1526-1530. Had the blood of Ghengis Khan in his arteries and began to cut a wide swath when he was only twelve. 126 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Invaded India in 1526. Defeated 100,000 men and 1,000 elephants near Delhi and lifted out of his seat the Emperor, Ibrahim Lodi no relation to Mr. Carl Lody ! Baber is buried at Kabul. (2) Humayun, 1530-1556. Left two great memorials: his splendid tomb near Delhi, and a son named Akbar. Built the old fort at Delhi. (3) Akbar, 1556-1605. The greatest and noblest of the lot. Another Alexander the Great. Contemporary of Queen Eliza- beth. Built the Fort at Agra, the Red Palace, and Fatehpur- Sikri. Tomb 5 1-2 miles from Agra. (Fatehpur-Sikri, the Deserted City, is 22 miles.) (4) Shah Jahan, 1628-1658. Married Arjamand Banu Begum (Mumtaz) in 1615. Built the Taj Mahal, the Pearl Mosque, and the Jama Musjid (mosque in honour of the daughter who afterward shared his captivity), all at Agra. He also founded modern Delhi, built the Jumma Musjid there and erected the Peacock Throne. Buried in the Taj. (6) Aurungzebe, 1658-1707. Son of the Lady of the Taj. Lived in Delhi. Built the imposing mosque of Aurungzebe at Benares. He was the last of the Great Moghuls. Bahadur Shah, a puppet of Moghul lineage, tried to regain the throne during the Great Mutiny. At Delhi, in 1857, the last representative of the old British East India Company sat in judgment on this last of the Moghul line and sentenced him " to be transported across the seas as a felon." He died at Rangoon in 1862. XIV WITHIN DELHI'S KASHMERE GATE NOW that I come to think of it, I was never elected president of my class, nor to a staff editorship of the college monthly, nor did I attain to such dignity as the captain of the baseball team. But life has its compensations. I have stood where " the forlorn hope " blew in the Kashmere Gate ; I have sat on the site of the Peacock Throne; and I have seen a hair from the Prophet's beard. Now who would have thought Mohammed red- headed? I call upon both of the Across-India parties to bear me record that the sample shown us in the Jumma Mas j id by the Custodian of the Sacred Hair was of a fiery red. Surely it cannot be that the Prophet used somebody's dye! That Jumma Mas j id is the greatest mosque in India. A photograph preceding this chapter shows what it looks like on prayer-meeting day (Friday), but no illustration can give the effect that comes from red sandstone below gradually fading into white marble at the top of the minarets. But will somebody tell me how the followers of the Prophet got rid of that stray hive of bees that had swarmed and settled upon 127 128 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD the chandelier of the Holy Place on the day the West- ward party visited it? I am not familiar with the ritual of the Koran covering that emergency. It was circus day when I first saw Delhi the eve of the Durbar, the greatest show on earth. As our long special rolled into the Cantonment station, close behind us came two other specials loaded with per- formers two stately maharajahs and two troupes of wild-looking retainers clad in their most joyful raiment. Staff-officers detailed to meet Their Royal Highnesses chased themselves up and down the plat- form with clanking sabres and spurs that rattled like a typewriter (machine) with locomotor-ataxia. The retainers rolled out of the coaches with their bedding, their stew-pans, their regalia, and their pipes held in affectionate embrace but what to do next? The ex- citement of being in Delhi stood them on their heads until His Royal Highness began to sketch in rough outline what would happen quickly if they did not get back upon the feet of dignity. And the Chandni Chowk, the Queen's Road, and every other street of Delhi were one continuous mov- ing-picture show, for all India from the Punjab to the sea was turned loose in town. It is not often that so many kinds of people are brought together on this earth. With the remembrance of this still fresh in mind, Delhi looked motley and colourless to me when I came westward and saw it at its normal. But that street that winds from somewhere into the Chowk jammed with one- and two-camel wagons having funny wheels, the heads of the tall camels peering WITHIN DELHI'S KASHMERE GATE 129 over an auto or a street-car that is to me one of the most picturesque spots in India. But there is so much to occupy the traveller's time in Delhi that he has little opportunity to roam about the quaint streets of the new capital of India. And alas for the seller of carved ivories and embroidered silks he has little chance to spend his money except for the gewgaws caught on the fly. But after the long hot day is over and the traveller lands at the big sta- tion, then it is that the bazaar diplomat gets in his fine work. By arrangement with the railroad officials, he spreads his wares out upon the platform alongside the train and ensnares the most avaricious. Those elec- tric-light bazaars on the platforms across India have you forgotten them? Now the sights of modern Delhi are of two kinds the Moghul memorials and the Mutiny memorials. Of the latter, the Kashmere Gate and the memorial erected on the Ridge are the chief. Of Moghul archi- tecture, the Jumma Mas j id comes first. The rough- ness of the red sandstone without gives no hint of the dazzling beauty within, where the pavement of its great court and the walls that enclose it and the mina- rets that rise against the sky are all of white marble. From one of its galleries the eye may sweep the whole beautiful city. And pleasant is the sight from here of Shah Jahan's great Fort also of red sandstone which is at the foot of the gentle slope upon which the mosque stands. Triumphant over the Lahore Gate hangs the British ensign, and all about are the wireless telegraph masts that suggest the impossibility of any 130 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD future mutiny being conducted along the same lines as that of 1857. Driving through the Delhi Gate of the Fort, past the big black elephants and the sentry, then winding about until we are behind the Lahore Gate, we come to the glory of Moghul Delhi, the Imperial Palace. It is the work of the builder of the Taj and is more ornate than the Palace in the Agra Fort, though less suggestive of intrigue. Only the most conspicuous features can receive bare mention here. Under the colonnade of the Hall of Public Audi- ence, in a recess decorated by Austin of Bordeaux, is just such a throne as the imagination pictures but it was not herein that the Moghul sat, they say; this was the seat of his Wazir. The Emperor lounged upon the Peacock Throne, which seems to have been a movable institution. (Nadir Shah, the Persian, found it to be so, for he moved it off to Persia !) This is what it was like : " It was so called from its having the figures of two peacocks standing behind it, their tails being expanded, and the whole so inlaid with sapphires, rubies, emeralds, pearls, and other precious stones of appropriate colours, as to represent life. The throne itself was 6 ft. long by 4 ft. broad ; it stood on six massive feet, which, with the body, were of solid gold, inlaid with rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. It was surmounted by a canopy of gold, supported by twelve pillars, all richly emblazoned with costly gems, and a fringe of pearls ornamented the borders of the canopy. Between the two peacocks stood the figure of a parrot, said to have been carved out of a single emerald." In the Hall of Private Audience, which is " still one of the most graceful buildings in the world," is WITHIN DELHI'S KASHMERE GATE 131 a marble platform on which the dazzling throne used to stand. This hall is particularly rich in historical associations and on its wall is the famous inscription, "If there be a heaven upon earth, it is this, it is this, it is this ! " On the way to the Painted Palace of the Chief Sultana, just beyond, you pass beneath an alabaster panel with the Scales of Justice conspicuous against a decorated background. The Painted Palace opens into a suite of imperial bathrooms, and here you begin to get an idea of what it meant to be a Great Moghul. Take the Emperor's bath as an example. In the centre of a large room of white marble is a sunken pool about ten feet square, with hot and cold water connections and facilities for spraying the Royal Per- son with rose-water and perfumed oils. Lolling in the pool, His Ecstatic Majesty had a picture-show painted on the dome overhead but the exhibit is gone now. What vandal hand looted the bathroom thus? The painter's by order of the visiting Prince of Wales, whom we know as the late Edward VII. " They must have been pretty raw ! " said one of the Clevelanders, when the guide told the story. Even when the thirteen acres of dazzling Durbar (to describe which would take thirteen chapters) are passed over in silence, there yet remains enough in- teresting material in and around Delhi to make several books. The ruins of former greatness are scattered over forty-five square miles of area ! Those who mo- tored to the Kutub Minar saw a Mohammedan tower of victory that dates back to 1196, while near it stands 132 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD a pillar (forged as a single bar of iron) that runs back to the fifth century of the Christian era. " After an exposure to wind and rain for fourteen centuries, it is unrusted and the capital and inscription are as clear as when put up." And, it may be remarked in passing, that there is no urgent necessity for Americans to forget that one of their countrywomen, the lamented . Lady Curzon, was the Viceregal Queen at the greatest Durbar that modern India has known, one that was not even sur- passed by that which King George recently honoured with his presence. Also, that it was Mary Leiter's scholarly and distinguished husband the ablest Vice- roy India has ever had who did most of the work in restoring the Moghul Palace to something of its former glory. Delhi, Cawnpore, and Lucknow are the Mutiny Cities that interest the American traveller. The cata- logue of brave deeds is long and of intense interest to the Briton, who knows the regiments by name, but to us only the most daring have fascination. Not who did it but what did they do? The exploits of the Sixty-first Foot concern us no more than those of the Firsty-Sixth Horse. In my Thumb- Nail His- tory of the Great Mutiny, I find the following entries that belong to Delhi : (i) Cause of the Mutiny. Lord Roberts says: "The issue of Enfield cartridges, alleged to be greased with a mixture of cow's fat and [hog's] lard (the one being as obnoxious to the Hindus as the other is to the Mussulmans) was, I believe, the spark which ignited the smouldering feeling of discontent." WITHIN DELHI'S KASHMERE GATE 133 First Outbreak. At Calcutta, in February, 1857. May loth, the troops at Meerut, 40 miles distant, mutinied and came to Delhi. The city had no British troops except officers of na- tive regiments. These officers were murdered and the Moghul king was declared Emperor of India. A lieutenant and eight soldiers held the arsenal for three hours and then blew up the magazine. Five lived to receive the Victoria Cross. On June 8th, about 4,000 British and loyal Indian troops cap- tured the Ridge that faces the Delhi walls. Although the odds against them were only four to one, they could not enter the city, because it had been fortified by themselves against just such a contingency, and sepoy gunners (trained by themselves) were standing behind 114 pieces of heavy artillery. On August I4th came General John Nicholson, a soldier of the Gordon type, created without fear. Sept. 6th, his siege- train arrived. Sept. I4th he stormed the city; he finished the job on Sept. 20th by proxy, five days before Havelock and Out- ram fought their way into Lucknow. Nicholson died Sept. 23d, age 35. As he was borne in silence to the grave, an expedi- tion marched away to relieve the garrison penned up in the Agra fort. While the heroic defence of Lucknow is better known, it was marked by no deeds of daring that surpass those of the storming of Delhi on September I4th. Nicholson lined up his men before daybreak only about 4,000, not counting the reserves and divided them into four columns, each with a specific task. Of the four columns, we shall follow only the one that was to enter by the Kashmere Gate and a brave story it is! Unfortunately, that gateway is so located that the shells of the siege-guns could not reach it. Two En- gineer lieutenants, three sergeants, a bugler, and a native havildar with eight native privates were con- 134 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD secrated as " the forlorn hope " to blow open the gate. Note how simple it was! All that they had to do was to carry bags of powder on their shoulders, pile them up against the right-hand gate, attach a fuse, light it, and jump into a ditch within thirty seconds. But that gateway and the wall were lined with sepoys, who were shooting at them from the moment they came in sight! It was expected that at least one of the five officers would live long enough to strike the match. Here is what happened: " Outside the gate the ditch was spanned by a wooden bridge, the planks of which had been removed, leaving only the sleepers intact. Passing through the outer gateway, Home (who was in front) crossed one of the sleepers with the bugler under a sharp musketry fire, planted his bag of powder, and leaped into the ditch. Carmichael followed, but, before he could lay his bag, was shot dead. Then Smith, who was just behind, planted his own and his comrade's bag, and arranged the fuses ; while Salkeld, holding a slow match in his hand, stood by, waiting to fire the charge. Just as he was going to do so, he was struck down by two bullets. As he fell he held out the match, telling Smith to take it and fire. Burgess, who was nearer to the wounded man, took it instead, but presently cried that it had gone out, and just as Smith was handing him a box of matches, fell over into the ditch, mortally wounded. Smith, now (as he thought) left alone, ran close up to the powder bags to avoid the enemy's fire, struck a light, and was in the act of applying it when the port-fire in the fuse went off in his face. As he was plunging through a cloud of smoke into the ditch, he heard the thunder of the explosion." Trumpeter Hawthorne, standing with bugle at his lips, joyfully blew the " come-on " note of triumph. Did he then duck and run to cover ? Not Hawthorne. He stood by the helpless Lieutenant Salkeld to shield him until the storm was past. THE ANGEL OF THE RESURRECTION XV THE ANGEL OF THE CAWNPORE WELL THE tragic story of Cawnpore is far too sicken- ing to be told except in outline. Its details are far more terrible than is generally supposed. Here are the essential facts : June 4, 1857, the native regiments mutinied. Nana Sahib, Maharajah of Bithoor, with a grievance against the Govern- ment, took command of them. Wheeler was caught unprepared within sorry entrenchments near the Memorial Church. He had about 400 soldiers and 376 women and children. Nana had 3,000 trained sepoys, the maga- zine, and the treasury. For three weeks the desperate band fought him off, amid hardships incredibly great. The only well within the entrench- ment was exposed to the enemy's fire day and night, and it was " a service of death " to bring water from it. Into an- other well, just outside, were lowered 250 of the British dead during this siege. On June 25th, a native woman brought a letter from Nana. It offered safe transport to Allahabad for all the garrison. On June 27th, in the cool of the morning, they were escorted down to the Massacre Ghat. When all were aboard the river boats, a bugle was blown. The boatmen deserted the boats, which had not yet been pushed off into deep water. From am- bush came a hail of musketry and a shower of grape-shot that swept every boat. Horsemen then rode into the shallow water and hacked with their sabres. The survivors, about 125 women and children, some of whom 135 136 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD were wounded, were dragged back to Cawnpore and thrown into a small house. From other sources the number was in- creased until it reached 206 women and children, and five men. They were subjected to great indignities by Nana, who lived a life of revelry in a house that overlooked the prison. On July 1 5th, a sudden message came that Havelock was near at hand. The five men were brought out and killed in his pres- ence. Then a detail of sepoys was sent to shoot the women and children through the windows. Their nerve failed them and they shot at the ceiling instead. Then Nana sent into the house a burly Afghan and two Hindus, with long knives. The next morning the dead (and some who were not) were dragged to the well and thrown in the well underneath the Angel. Then Nana gathered up his sepoys and went to meet Have- lock. The bands of the mutineers were playing such airs as " Auld Lang Syne " when the worn Highland Brigade came limping down the road. Nana's men got all that was coming to them that day and the rest came later. Aside from the grim memorials of the tragedy of 1857, Cawnpore has little to interest the traveller. The native town is like all native towns, and the Cantonment is a military camp. Barracks filled with the famous Gordon Highlanders are passed by well- metalled roads lined with trees, and then comes a suc- cession of bungalows, upon the gate-posts of which are such signs as this : " Major MacScot, 2nd Gordon Highlanders." One of the first places visited is the old cemetery, with its simple memorials to the heroic dead. Among them is a marble cross sacred to the memory of a lieutenant, three sergeants, three corporals, and forty- five privates of G Company of H. M. 84th. The in- scription ends with these words : " Of this Company, only one man, Private Murphy, escaped." To get THE ANGEL OF THE CAWNPORE WELL 137 your name recorded on a tombstone without first having to die surely that is an achievement distinctly Irish. This is how it happened: While the mutineers were cowardly slaughtering the trapped men and women at the Massacre Ghat, one of the boats floated downstream with nearly a hundred people on it. For thirty-six hours it drifted down the Ganges, with sepoys following along the banks and firing upon it. During the second night it lost the channel and strayed into a side-stream. The next morning, while the sepoys were screwing up their courage to board it, two captains and eleven privates leaped ashore and scattered the whole bunch. But the boat drifted on and the men ashore had to take refuge in a small temple. From this they burst out and made for the river. Four of them managed to swim to the opposite shore and were sheltered by a petty chief. One of the four was Private Murphy! The drifting boat was soon captured and the prisoners dragged back to their fate at Cawnpore. The chieftain who succoured the four swimmers became Sir Digbijai Singh. His elevation recalls the story of the chieftain of Gwalior, who remained loyal even when nearly 15,000 of his own troops went over to the mutineers. That chief is now as follows: Major-General Maharaja Sir Madho Rao Sindhia, G.C.S.I., G.C.V.O., A.D.C., LL.D. The British have long memories. From the Memorial Church, travellers are in the habit of taking the Via Dolorosa to the Massacre Ghat, where a deserted and ruined Hindu place of 138 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD prayer marks the scene of the first awful tragedy. The Ganges is very wide here, with islands of sand in midstream. In the late afternoon sunlight, a low- caste native was washing his scant clothing in the muddy water, while beyond him floated a decaying body upon the sluggish current, with kites hovering over it and vultures sitting motionless on the sand- bar toward which it was veering. In the deepening twilight, when the idle crowd had gone, I came again, to stand in silence upon what is to me a spot of great impressiveness. And here, to my surprise, I found a solitary British soldier, who had chosen it as a place of reverie! Surely no finer action ever closed a great tragedy than the unveiling over the Cawnpore Well of that beautiful Angel of Peace (or of the Resurrection). Amid all the associations of treachery and cowardice, it stands there as a monument of forgiveness, and its silent influence is as powerful as the fragrance that comes from crushed jasmine and mignonette. At least, so it seems to an American. But to the Englishman, w r ith all the bitter memories brought back to him by the sight of the memorials, Cawnpore has a different meaning. He does not merely see Cawnpore; he feels it. Listen to Sir Frederick Treves's descrip- tion of the Massacre Ghat : "This is probably the very bitterest spot on the earth, this murderer's stair, this devil's trap, this traitor's gate ! The very stones are tainted and festered with mean hate; and, until it rots, the mud-covered colonnade will be foul with the sneaking shadows of cowardice!" And ever upon the topmost roof the Banner of England blew! XVI THE BANNER ON LUCKNOW'S ROOF TO watch grey dawn come up over the grey land of India, and to see your train come to a stop alongside a spacious station that has the word " LUCKNOW " on one end believe me, that is an event in life. And to ride over the historic city with a veteran who was a boy inside the walls during the terrible siege of eighty-seven days, who saw Havelock's exhausted men crawl in through the Baillie Guard gateway, and who later welcomed Colin Campbell's second relief what is a day in Ceylon in comparison with an experience like that? But let us stop and get our history straightened out before we start in to relieve Lucknow again. May 3, 1857, a preliminary outbreak was quelled. May 30th, the whole bottom dropped out. June 30th, British defeated out- side the city and driven into the Residency. Siege begins. July 2d, Fort at Machchi Bhawan evacuated and magazine blown up. On the same day, Sir Henry Lawrence wounded. Died on July 4th. July 2Oth, first general assault repulsed by the British. August loth, second assault. August i8th, third assault. Sept. 5th, fourth assault. Sept. 23d, artillery firing heard in the direction of Cawnpore. Sept. 25th, Havelock enters the Residency with the First Re- 139 140 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD lief. Less than 1,000 remained of the 3,000 men, women, and children, civilians and natives, shut in 87 days before. Nov. I2th, Colin Campbell leaves Cawnpore with the Second Relief. Nov. I4th, Kavanagh, an Irishman disguised as a native, wins the Victoria Cross by stealing out of the Residency and joining Campbell at Alambagh with important information. Nov. i6th, the fight at Sikandra Bagh. Nov. I7th Campbell, Outram, and Havelock meet, and Lucknow is relieved. Nov. ipth, women and children withdrawn. Nov. 22d, gar- rison withdraws at midnight. Nov. 24th, Havelock dies. Dec. 7th, Lucknow survivors reach Allahabad. Outram remains at Alambagh until March, 1858, when Lucknow is retaken. The Cleveland Relief of Lucknow is accomplished geographically instead of chronologically. The first point of interest is generally passed unnoticed the Charbagh Bridge, near the station. The hero of this was Lieutenant Havelock, the son who at Cawnpore had coolly ridden his horse at a walk straight upon the muzzle of a cannon that was belching grape. The mutineers had a battery of six guns on the farther side of the bridge, loaded with grape, and waiting for the British to start across. An artillery officer named Maude ran two cannon up and tried to shell this battery out of business, but his gunners were mown down as fast as they took their places. Madras infantrymen had to step into their places. Meanwhile, the Madras " Lambs " were be- hind a hedge, waiting for the signal to charge. Lieu- tenant Havelock got tired of waiting, but their com- mander, General Neill, would not take the responsi- bility of advancing until the signal came. Havelock wheeled his horse and galloped off in the direction of his father but he turned as soon as he rounded the bend, and came riding back at full speed. THE BANNER ON LUCKNOW'S ROOF " You are to carry the bridge at once, sir ! " he shouted. The " Lambs " sprang up and made for the bridge, young Havelock in the front rank. The first storm of grape swept the bridge clear of every one except Hav- elock and a corporal but they got the bridge. ( In the Lucknow cemetery are buried nearly four hundred of this fine regiment, including the fearless Neill.) The Clevelander's route follows the Havelock Road for about three miles, and he halts at Sikandra Bagh, where the Second Relief had a desperate fight. Sikandra Bagh was once the garden of a Begum of the King of Oudh. It is over a hundred yards square, enclosed by a wall twenty feet high, loopholed all around, and has only one entrance. Inside were three regiments of sepoys. Then two big cannon were planted in front of the garden wall. It took an hour to make that hole in the southeast corner. Meanwhile the Sutherland High- landers and a regiment of bearded Sikhs were tugging at the leash like a bunch of bloodhounds. No orders were necessary. As soon as the wall began to crumble, a Sikh officer made a break for the hole. His men followed, but all of the officers of the regiment went down, and the men became con- fused. But while this was going on in the ranks of the Sikhs, a sergeant-major of the Highlanders had also started for the hole in the wall, and he was soon ahead of the first Sikh. Then the bugle turned loose the whole regiment of Sutherland Highlanders. The first man through the breach was a corporal, killed. 142 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD The second was a Sikh officer, killed. The third was a Highland sergeant-major, killed. The fourth was a captain of the Highlanders, wounded. Then every- body got in, one way or another, and for fifteen min- utes Sikandra Bagh was surely a rough house. With Cawnpore vividly in remembrance, no prisoners were taken. The colonel of the Highlanders himself shot the last two of the rebels and took the colours. You who wandered carelessly through Sikandra Bagh, can you imagine what it looked like that day? And is it presumption to express the conviction that the Recording Angel's record of good deeds done on that day is full of items about men whose names begin with " Mac " and men whose beards were rolled up around the edges in the Sikh fashion? Perhaps you have forgotten Kadam Rasul, the next point of interest on the road to the Residency. It is a holy place from which the glory has departed. Up to the time of the Mutiny, it housed one of the Prophet's footprints, in stone, but the footprint walked away in the confusion of events, and the sanctity of the place went with it. The alleged imprint of Mo- hammed's toes in granite seems to make a great hit with his followers, and I wonder that some enterpris- ing American has not started a footprint-factory. With judicious salesmanship, it might be only a short time until no Mohammedan home would be complete without a footprint with an American trademark on the big-toe. Just beyond the Kadam Rasul is the Shah Najuf tomb, the burial-place of the first King of Oudh. It THE BANNER ON LUCKNOW'S ROOF 143 is an imposing piece of architecture and has furnish- ings that are supposed to be sumptuous, for the tomb is an endowed institution; but neither the mausoleum nor its furnishings is comparable, in my eyes, to the views that may be had by standing under its arches and looking outward. It is very peaceful now, but in '57 the mutineers again held up Sir Colin at this point. The enclosing walls were so thick that the cannon could make no breach. Finally a Highlander found a weak spot and the men who had taken Sikan- dra Bagh rushed it. But the mutineers had a place marked " Exit," and they exited with a celerity that would be surprising to those who know the usual speed of the Hindu. And here it was that the weary men of the Second Relief spent the night, almost in sight of the Residency. Do you remember the next stop the unattractive Moti Mahal, on the bank of the Gumti, where the con- tests between wild beasts were held in the old days? Just before you reached it, you passed a building of great historic interest but you passed it. It is now the Girls' School, but in the stirring days it was the Khursaed Munzil, with a moat twelve feet wide sur- rounding it. This was stormed and captured the next morning after Shah Najuf, and the fleeing mutineers were chased into the Moti Mahal grounds. But a young subaltern was just then climbing to the roof of the Khursaed Munzil to raise a flag that would let the men in the Residency know how near was their relief and the subaltern is known to-day as Lord Roberts, the one man who can vie with Lord Kitchener 144 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD in the claim to be the most distinguished man in the British army. And it was in this building that soon occurred the memorable meeting between Sir Colin of the Second Relief, and Havelock and Outram who had come out from the Residency to meet him. Now that the beleaguered and the relieving party have come together, let us take a look at the famous Residency the only place in the British Empire where the flag is never hauled down, day nor night. Entering the Baillie Guard Gate, the ruins of the historic buildings are all about you, standing essen- tially as they were when Lucknow was retaken. The Gate itself is not so interesting as the site of Aitken's gun (to the right as you enter), for it was through this breach that Havelock's men entered, the gate itself being securely closed to keep the mutineers out. On the right, gracefully draped in morning-glories and wistaria, is the hospital; on the left are the bare walls of Dr. Fayrer's house, and therein you may see one of the most impressive memorials in India : Here Sir H. Lawrence died July 1857. And in the cemetery nearby you may read the epitaph dictated by himself: " Here lies Henry Lawrence, who tried to do his duty. May the Lord have mercy on his soul." This epitaph will be of special interest to those who hold in cherished memory the Hero of Khartoum, " Chinese " Gordon, for the postscript of THE BANNER ON LUCKNOW'S ROOF 145 Gordon's last letter to his sister refers to it : "I am quite happy, thank God, and like Lawrence, I have tried to do my duty." It is therefore the connecting link between the two heroes who met tragic deaths so far apart. One of the picturesque and beautiful sights at the Residency building is that of the English roses (white ramblers, as I remember them) that are climbing in great profusion over the rusty cannon that the muti- neers used to batter these walls. Proud as the British must ever be of the great defence at Lucknow, their pride does not obtrude itself. Everything is in beauti- ful taste, and the inscriptions are eloquent in their simplicity. They recalled to me that heroic statue of Wolfe on the Plains of Abraham at Quebec, whose inscription is this : " Here died Wolfe, victorious." Do you remember what " Kim " says of the city of Lucknow ? " There is no city except Bombay, the queen of all more beautiful in her garish style than Lucknow." Driving from the Residency along the road that leads past the new Medical College (one of the largest and handsomest in the world), you will see what Mr. Kipling had in mind. The Imambaras, the monumental gateways, and the mosques come as a great surprise. I am well aware that sculptors and architectural experts say mean and cutting things about all of them, but that does not prevent me from saying that not even the Moghul buildings of Agra and Delhi im- pressed me more profoundly, except in their historical associations. The Great Imambara or mausoleum of 146 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Nawab Asaf-ud-Daula is said to have cost five million dollars; it looks it. In front of it are two extensive courts and a fine mosque flanked by two lofty minarets. Driving on past the Hosainabad Clock Tower and Tank, you come to a monumental work of the third King of Oudh the Hosainabad Imambara, or " Pal- ace of Lights." An endowment of three and one-half million rupees was left by the King to keep up its splendour and perpetuate acts of charity in his name. And when you have seen these costly specimens of unfamiliar architecture, together with the Chutter Munzil Palaces (now The United Service Club) and the new Medical College, you have only begun to see Lucknow. The fine old buildings of La Martiniere College, the new Canning College across the river, and scores of others unite in making Lucknow the prettiest modern city in India, in my judgment. In- cidentally, it should be recalled that the Methodist missionaries here maintain (among other worthy in- stitutions) a college for girls which has the distinction of being the first institution of that kind in all Asia and it is American, like several other first and best things in the Far East. But do not let me leave you under the impression that this beautiful Indian city is an ideal place of residence. The fact that certain glasses of ice-cold lemon squash are as vivid in memory as the Imambara may suggest something about the heat ! WEIGHING WOOD FOR THE BURNING "WHO'S NEXT?" ALONG THE GANGES XVII BENARES " OLDEST OF EARTH'S CITIES" AJD now let me again sound a trumpet before me, as the Scribes and the Pharisees do. As for Mother Ganges, whose waters of purifica- tion drop from the brow of Shiva, I have made pil- grimage at many times and places. I have fed parched corn to the monkeys in Durga's Temple, and bought marigold garlands at the sign of the Red Stone Bull. My feet have trodden the exceedingly narrow way that leads past the Well of Knowledge and into the Golden Temple. I have written first-class fiction stories about the Well of Fate, the Shrine of Sitala, and the Debendra Nath Sanscrit College, one of which has been returned to me by an editor because it has a flea in it. And I have bestowed annas upon the holy men of Shiva and of Vishnu, and upon those other holy men who brought me lemon squash at the hotel, who caused the mongoose and the cobra to engage in deadly combat, and who made the mango-tree to grow before my eyes as I stood behind the screen and watched the sap rise. Surely these works of merit have brought me much nearer to the last cycle of my transmigration! It is no new fashion to make pilgrimage to the 147 148 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Sacred City. So long ago as that nebulous period when Cyrus the Persian was fighting and Jeremiah the Prophet was preaching, hither came on pious errand a gentle ascetic whose soul was weighed down by the sorrows of his race, yet upborne by the in- spiration of a great hope. It was Gautama Buddha, fresh from the Enlightenment that followed upon the heels of his Great Renunciation. And full a century before Mohammed was born, the virtues of Benares were drawing a stream of pilgrims from far-away China. Hither came also Moghul Emperors like Humayun. And so came the zealous Asoka, whose broken pillar is yet at Sarnath. And so have come, and are coming, and will continue to come, rajahs and maharajahs, nawabs and gaekwars, high-caste and low-caste and no-caste, from every land where the trident of Shiva is uplifted from an altar of Brahman- ism the faith of two hundred millions. At the rate of 10,000 a month they come, and nowhere else flows continuously such a large and picturesque stream of human life. The Ganges River is holy all the way from the Himalayas to the Bay of Bengal so holy that the water from its many mouths is reluctant to mingle with that of the sea, and therefore yellows the waves for a hundred miles off-shore. But that holiness is absolute at Benares, even though it appears to the unbeliever as a stream murky with the silt of crum- bling banks, reeking with the stench of sewage, and foul with the carcasses of holy cows and Ascetics. Learn from municipal history the virtue of Ganges " OLDEST OF EARTH'S CITIES " 149 water. Came the English engineers and erected a pumping-station, with a vast reservoir and settling tanks. Benares was to have a system of water- works, with filtered water piped to its doors. Up rose the teachers of the Law. Only the out-castes could use the water, they said, for the pipes had been made by sahibs and laid by Mohammedans, and this spells pol- lution. Out of the confusion rose up a sahib with a head on his shoulders, and he spake on this wise : " The water of the Sacred River is absolute in its purifying power is it not so? " he asked. " Quite so," answered the Doctors of the Law. " Then, in passing through the pipes, it purifies them and makes it impossible that a believer should have his caste polluted is it not so? " A great light illumined the teachers of the Law and they issued a decree that all Benares might drink from the sahibs' pipes. And it was so. The Brahmin's philosophy teaches that there are something like eight million cycles through which a soul may be required to pass before re-entering into the Absolute and it is a dismal outlook to the man who realizes that he may make some slip and have to begin all over again. He is like that unhappy frog in your old arithmetic the one who climbed up three feet every day and fell back four feet every night. But residence in Benares acts like an insurance policy. Whoever dies within the area bounded by the Ganges on the east, the Panch-Kosi Road on the west, and the Barna and Asi tributaries on the north and south, goes direct to Shiva's Himalayan paradise. And this re- 150 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD markable amnesty has in it the wideness of the sea, for even the souls of Christians and Mohammedans share its benefits. If the rest of the world did but believe this, how the prices of residence sites in Benares would soar! But there is a remarkable phenomenon. Only the Benares shore is sanctified; the soul of him who dies on the opposite bank goes into the body of a donkey, unless he make pilgrimage as hereinafter set forth. As a consequence, all that shore is a barren waste, except nigh unto the Palace of the Maharajah farther upstream. Let us stand apart for a moment, here at the central ghat, and take one fleeting glance down the vista of human history. This great throng of pilgrims, with its sources more distant than that of the Ganges itself, has been pouring like a waterfall down these steps for twenty centuries how much longer no man may say. It is Mr. Kipling who calls Benares " oldest of earth's cities." Damascus, Athens, and Bagdad may dispute the claim. Nobody knows; the birth-certifi- cates have all been lost. This is no ordinary crowd of bathers. Note the stillness of the throng, the serious look on the faces. They have come weary miles to have great burdens lifted from their souls, and the sight of the Ganges is a token of deliverance. And this mass of dark- skinned peoples before us most of them are our brothers in blood. Something like thirty centuries agone (the date is less consequential than the fact), " OLDEST OF EARTH'S CITIES " 151 their ancestors and ours were one on the high table- lands of western Asia. The shifting time came; our fathers turned to the west; theirs turned to the east. To-day a great gulf intervenes. But " For those who kneel beside us, At altars not Thine Own, Who lack the lights that guide us Lord, let their faith atone ! " The Bengali is here in great numbers, as the pre- ponderance of white costumes attests; the delicate shades of pink and light yellow and light blue recall the colour-scheme up Delhi way; the coarser fabrics here and there are from the crude looms of the north- ern hills; the flashes of indigo and orange and deep red are from the south country. But where is the tall-turbaned Sikh, with beard like a schoolgirl's " rat " ? Answer : the Sikh has a religion of his own, and to him the Ganges is merely a river. And where is the little Gurkha, with the features of a Japanese and the disposition of an Irishman ? The Gurkha is a Buddhist. And where is all that conglomeration of Punjabis, Rajputanas, Pathans, Bhutians, and other wild men who roam northern India from Darjeeling to the Khyber Pass? Working our way to the water's edge, we clamber up to the roof of a Seeing-Ganges boat. We are in the centre of an amphitheatre that extends for perhaps a mile on either side. Here are forty-seven ghats (a ghat is a descent) with stone stairways, for the Ganges is a fearful stream when it is in flood. 152 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD It is a slovenly scene when you get close to it. The large and ragged umbrellas made of matting under every one of which you will find a fat Brahmin and the rude shelter-places near the water make the river- front look like a series of cattle-sheds. It is a scene unworthy of the religious capital of a wealthy priest- hood that has a lead-pipe monopoly over twice a hun- dred million people. Of the forty-seven ghats, the most interesting are those that are the most interesting when you are look- ing at them. I can get along in life fairly well with the following eight : (1) Dasasamehd, the central ghat, where the carriages stop. It is one of the Five Places of Pilgrimage. (2) Sitala, the Small-Pox ghat, just above it. Those who have recovered may bathe here; and those who wish to avoid the disease may rub their fingers over the wet goddess and apply them to forehead and eyes. Wiser devotees go through the ritual of the Vaccine Depot also. (3) Man Mandhil, just downstream from Dasasamehd. It is in front of the Observatory of Raja Man Singh, which is about three centuries old. (4) Nepali has behind it a small temple with ancient wood carvings, " for men only." (5) Manikarnika is the holiest of all. This is the starting- point and the terminus of the Great Pilgrimage, and here the happy pilgrim bathes after it is all over. (6) Scindia, by the ruins of a fallen temple, is the rendezvous of the ash-smeared Saddhus. (7) Panchganga, below Aurungzebe's Mosque, is another of the Five Places. (8) Jhalsai, the Burning Ghat. Ramnaggar, on the opposite shore, upstream, is the residence of the Maharajah. There are a tiger, some oil-paintings, a gar- den, and a temple. For those who did not visit it, life still has some attractiveness. The Ramnaggar pilgrimage once a " OLDEST OF EARTH'S CITIES " 153 year is the antidote against punishment for dying on that side of the Ganges. As a double precaution, many of the Benares people cross over and join in this pious promenade. With the exception of Jhalsai, all of these are bath- ing ghats, but bathing is a religious ceremony and a laundry exercise rather than a sport. Once in a while you may see a boy or a man swimming twenty feet from the shore, but most of the pilgrims merely stand up in the water and perform their ablutions. It is all done decently and in order. Most of the women bathe apart, but the woman of India is an exceedingly modest creature and makes her shifts of raiment with marvellous skill. The Burning Ghat is, of course, the chief point of interest in Benares. It has been so continuously de- scribed since the first scribbler began to tell the story of the sacred city that I may be excused from enter- ing into the details now. Suffice it to say, from the standpoint of one who has lingered all about the fires, that it is less emotional and less harrowing than a funeral in any of the Christian lands. A body swathed in white or red, according to sex, and borne down the steps upon a framework of bamboo that rests upon the shoulders of the kinsmen; a little hag- gling with the sellers of wood; a log-heap built by a low-caste Dom, with the body laid thereon and cov- ered with other sticks; a torch applied by the nearest of kin that is all. The pyre burns with a crackling noise and without overmuch smoke. Within an hour or two, nothing remains but a little heap of ashes and charred wood. These are raked into the river 154, TWICE AROUND THE WORLD and the spot is ready for the next comer. There are no stifling odours, no lamentations from the group of mourners above and no undertakers in funereal black. Whenever I drink red lemonade or munch pea- nuts beneath the canvas of the Big Show, I confess that it is the clowns who always interest me the most. And so it was at the Benares show. The ash-smeared fakirs along the Ganges still remain the chief features in memory's panorama. The first of the Benares brotherhood to solicit my unblessed coin did not have an appearance of genuine- ness, for he wore more clothes than ashes. He was a genial beggar and showed the liveliest interest in the ritual of the kodak. I very cheerfully contributed four annas to the General Fund, for in getting him en- graved upon a film I included a picturesque group of children whose beautiful pose would have vanished if they had not been tickled at what was happening to the saddhu. I shall always remember the second as " The Ghost of the Black Death." He was more like a spectre than anything that I have ever seen in a sunlight so glaring as that of the Ganges. Naked except for his loincloth, he was so emaciated that his ribs made him look like an animated washboard. His grey hair and beard were uncombed and matted, and the coating of ashes completed the aspect of ghastliness. Then came along " The Heavenly Twins " two husky saints who were anything but emaciated. They were as tall as Sikhs, but no Sikh ever had such biceps and calves as they. They also were genial and avari- " THE LAST INCARNATION THE END OF ANOTHER CYCLE " OLDEST OF EARTH'S CITIES " 155 cious; I would give many annas to listen to their stories of life on Indian highways, had I a knowledge of the vernacular. In a little belfry-like shrine at the head of one of the stairways is a member of the fraternity whom I regard as a genius. Instead of wandering about the Empire soliciting alms, he has hit upon the scheme of having the alms come to him. It was said that he had been there for seventeen years, day and night; I will not give a certificate to that effect. But I will certify that he gets the coin of the pilgrim. Another picturesque gentleman of wondrous sanc- tity sits upon a ledge facing the Red Stone Bull, near the Well of Knowledge. He is about forty, with scant beard and hair done up in a Psyche knot. He sits cross-legged like a plaster god, with a cloth draped over the shoulder and a rosary about his neck. His face is coated with a greyish ash that makes him appear as a corpse seated upright and he never moves. I have tried to catch him batting an eyelash, but never succeeded. Down by the Ghat of Burning, whose smoke is now and then wafted across his placid face, is " The Last Incarnation." He sits upon a lofty pedestal, his body inclined slightly backward and supported upon rigid arms, his face toward the sacred river and unshielded from the glare of the sun. He is so coated with the greasy mixture of ashes that he and the pedestal seem to be one piece of statuary. He has renounced all that is earthly and sits in silent contemplation, wait- ing to be freed from " the Wheel of Things." He 156 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD has reached the topmost round of the ladder of human attainment his last incarnation. There is another member of this fraternity whose fame is world-wide, but I fear that he is a four-flusher. He sits upon a bed of spikes near the entrance to Aurungzebe's mosque. It is rumoured that this can- didate for divine honours lives comfortably with a young wife and indulges a taste for a strong drink called bhang. Let us hope that it is not true, and that the spikes are as sharp as they are supposed to be. The tramp who has been prodded by a policeman's club or kicked down the kitchen steps or chased by the farmer's dog has missed the chance of ages by not becoming a Hindu holy man. Five millions of these holy beggars roam over India and are venerated instead of being kicked. The wandering saint carries with him a stock of blessings as he goes carries also an assortment of vermin and now and then a young and athletic germ of small-pox or plague. Assuming that each collects on an average one dollar a month in food and coin, it costs the working people of India about sixty million dollars a year to support these rascals though, of course, there must be many con- scientious and devout ascetics among them. These are the saddhus. There is a yet more exalted fraternity of the Brahmin caste known as the San- nyasis. Entrance thereto is rigidly mapped out but few there be that find it. But anybody, it seems, may become a saddhu. To a low-caste man, this life of sanctity must be a source of holy joy. Last year, perhaps, a high-caste man yelled at him as though he V * I * OLDEST OF EARTH'S CITIES " 157 were a dog, and he hopped out of the path lest his shadow should defile his high-caste brother. Now, with his regalia of ashes upon him, that high-caste gentleman begs his blessing! All the temples that we visited Golden, Monkey, Annapurna, and as far down the list of thousands as we could go were too filthy for the housing of a respectable milk-cow, for the British Government interferes little with the order of life in Benares. Sir Frederick Treves, who calls Benares " The City of Trampled Flowers," on account of the marigolds and jasmines that are everywhere underfoot, has one strik- ing paragraph about these holy shrines : " There is to be found in Benares a refuge from every sorrow, a shelter from every calamity, a promise for every hope. There are a well in the city which can ward off fever, a shrine which will protect from snake bites, a goddess who can cure swelled hands and feet, a ghat which is all-potent against small-pox, and a temple where plain women can pray for handsome sons. . . . There is nothing worth praying for in this world or the next that cannot be prayed for in Benares at an altar mindful of the particular supplication." One word to those who follow after us, along the pilgrim's way. Have somebody point out the Mani- karnika Well and the Well of Fate, as well as the Well of Knowledge. And by all means see that you are shown the Panch-Kosi Road, which is the long highway of pilgrimage that winds about the city. And let nothing keep you from making the pil- grimage to Sarnath. It is a hot and dusty drive of four miles, and a dreary place when you arrive. But it is something to say in after years that you have 158 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD stood at the place where Buddha first began to preach and to " turn the Wheel of the Law." And here is the Jain Temple that is the original " Temple of the Tirthankers " in the story of " Kim." Benares is the place where the management of the cruise gave more for the money than anywhere else around the world. Aside from all the holy and the unholy sights, there was the delectable afternoon tea on the hotel lawn, with the regimental band blowing itself, the military camels groaning like stuck pigs, and the Maharajah's fine elephants prancing around with you on top of them ! And then Professor Bux ! Do you remember the Professor the smooth-faced young Mohammedan with the quizzical smile who sat there on the grass, in broad daylight, and did such clever things with his hands that you wondered if it were hypnotism? It is too long a story to tell here, but I w r ill match him as a daylight performer against the cleverest juggler on any stage. And when he has convinced you that some particular trick is accomplished only through mesmerism, hand him a rupee and he will take you aside and show you how it is done by a simple twist of the wrist! Professor Bux is a great chap and has performed on the Island of Manhattan. He therefore performs in the English language also, as witnesseth this from his handbill : " Professor Amir Bux, King of Card Tricks, beg to announce to the public that his newly invented magical play is so nicely got up that it has admired by the Western Magician who have acquired reputation and have talked all over the world very highly." CALCUTTA f XVIII "THE CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT" ET us not mourn and refuse to be comforted now that the capital of India has been transferred from the Hooghly to the Jumna. Doubtless the real-estate owners and the merchants of Calcutta will attend to the matter of lamentation. It is only on Job Charnock's account that I regret the departing glory. A city that hews unto itself all sorts of statues of Kings and Lords and Sirs, and yet has no statue of Job, ought to lose its chief graft. Job was an agent of the British East India Company and a man with the bark on. He hung up the flag over a little cluster of mean huts called Kalighat (in honour of the bloodthirsty goddess Kali) and the village grew into a town and the name grew into Calcutta. There is a romance about Mrs. Charnock, too. She met the founder of Calcutta rather pic- turesquely. Her husband, a Hindu nabob of some kind, carelessly died and it was up to her to get on the suttee stone like a good Bengali wife and go along with him. Job came to have a look at the ceremony and precipitately fell in love with her looks. Being something of a nabob himself, he spake a few well- chosen words to his men and they picked up the 159 160 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD bereaved lady and carried her away to Job's bungalow. And they lived happily ever afterward. A man with a nerve like that founded Calcutta, as might be ex- pected. This city of more than a million people is the one which Mr. Kipling, in his chapters on " The City of Dreadful Night," grilled to a rich brown crisp, and that did Calcutta a lot of good. It seems to be fashionable for every man who writes about it to describe the insufferable odour of the place, but I frankly confess that I missed that, although I have been in Calcutta four times. Parts of it make a beauti- ful modern city and other parts are almost Hinduesque enough to be interesting, especially at night. But most of my recollections of the Imperial City are commonplace or worse. Take the big hotel there facing the Maidan. It is a beautiful hotel and its owner is a Parsee gentleman, of wealth, education, and culture. Incidentally, he has one of the finest collections of rare china in the East. But the assembled brains of the sub-manage- ment, from the men at the desk to the room-boy, would not be sufficient to run a livery-stable in an American town with a population of thirty-five persons. Take the branch post-office just back of the hotel. I went around to register three letters with the babus running the institution. Being a sahib, I took prece- dence of a long line of natives, somewhat to my sur- prise. The first babu weighed my letters carefully (and very slowly) and marked the postage required GLOBE-TROTTERS UNDER THE BANYAN TREE SOOTHSAYER PEERING INTO FRAWLEY'S PAST for each. Then I went to another babu and bought the postage stamps. He was exquisitely considerate and placed the various stamps on each letter lest I should mix them up in the routine of licking them. When all were properly affixed, I was escorted to a third babu who was to do the actual work of reg- istration. He placed each again on the scales and not one of them had the correct amount of postage! I finally saw the transaction reach the completed stage, but had meanwhile missed my luncheon. Those who come to Calcutta from Ceylon or Ran- goon, instead of from Benares, make their grand entree into Bengal at Diamond Harbour, forty miles down the Hooghly. The Cleveland is so large that if it should try to go up the river, like the little P. & O. boats, it might not get down again. That Hooghly is a stream with a very eccentric disposition. To-day its channel is over here; to-morrow it has moved over near the other bank and left a sand-bar as a reminder. And it has a swiftly rushing current that makes timid folks shudder as they step from the tender to the gang-plank or vice versa. The pilot is responsible for the information that this is the only port in the world where a vessel of the British Navy is forced by regulation to turn the navigation over to a pilot. The result is that the Bengal Pilot Service, dating back to the East India days, is an institution that confers distinction upon its men. Our pilot came aboard with his man-servant, if you please! Diamond Harbour is not a city, nor is it a harbour. It is merely an anchorage in the muddy Hooghly, 162 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD opposite a concealed fort and an unconcealed custom- house. There are a few palms sticking up out of a bare plain and always a platoon of men in khaki scattered around. The scene was wonderfully pic- turesque on the Westward cruise, as we arrived late in the afternoon, with a storm brewing. In our honour a double rainbow was hung out, perfect in all its arched extent. Landing is made by tender and a sort of pontoon bridge, the special train being backed down from the station above. It is a two-hours' ride to Calcutta, across the level plain of Bengal. Mud villages with thatched roofs, cattle with birds perched on their shoulders, naked children with eyes that shine like beads, rice-fields and cocoanuts these are the main characteristics. The most interesting thing to do in Calcutta is what very few travellers ever do. Drive past Government House (interesting because it is where Lord and Lady Curzon once reigned) and on to the banks of the Hooghly. Dismiss your carriage and walk for two hours along the bank of the stream, which is choked with shipping all the way to the Hooghly Bridge. There is more good material for a kodak in that walk than in all the drives that the rest of the party will take during their stay. And you will see all sorts of unusual sights, such as the loading of a baby elephant, the shoeing of a bullock, the cremation of a plague victim, or a bale of hay walking along with three men's heads underneath it. The Black Hole must not be missed, of course. " THE CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT ' 163 Lord Curzon has had it all fixed up and labelled so that even the guide cannot deceive you. But you will not see a hole merely a tablet and a marble pavement that shows you how small was the place into which 146 human beings were thrown on a June night in 1756 and from which only twenty-three were liber- ated the next morning. Of temples there are two the garish temple of the Jains, and the Kalighat Temple with its animal sacrifices and its mob of beggars. The Burning Ghat is on the programme but there may be no cremation in progress at the moment of your visit to the Ganges. There is a long and beautiful drive to the Botanical Gardens, and that is one of the features of the Cal- cutta exhibit. It is a place surpassingly beautiful and, incidentally, it contains the largest banyan tree in the world. It is 140 years old, measures fifty-one feet in circumference at a height of five feet, has a cir- cumference of 1,000 feet at the crown of foliage, and reaches a height of eighty-five feet. The aerial roots are trees themselves and there are 562 of these that have actually rooted. It is therefore a shrub of monumental proportions. There is a strong branch of the Young Men's Chris- tian Association in Calcutta and it has the pleasing habit of providing something attractive for the travel- ler to see and do. On our last visit, there was an exhibition of the arts and crafts of India (the ex- hibits being for sale at reasonable prices), with such divertisements as a dance by soldiers of the " Black Watch," juggling by a native fakir, and the singing 164 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD of " Rosary " by a Bengali girl from one of the mis- sion schools. This, I believe, was the only sort of attention that Calcutta paid to five hundred travellers, other than that grudgingly bestowed on us by various persons who were being much overpaid for their services. One of the pleasant facts about Calcutta is that you can kill a lot of time by trying to find your room when you return to the hotel. It, like the city, has apparently been built in sections and the sequence of room-numbers arranged chronologically. Let us say, for example, that you have room No. 817 and you try to find it for yourself. The elevator " boy " puts you out on a floor whose numbers seem to be in the Soo's and you explore several galleries until you come to 8 1 6. You go confidently to the next room and discover, as you insert your key, that it is No. 429. Half an hour later, when you have exhausted your energy and vocabulary, you descend to the first floor and get a guide. He takes you to another wing of the building, one or two floors above or below No. 816 and there, sure enough! is No. 817. But I dare you to find it the next time ! They have a great sys- tem of business in Calcutta. I do not understand it, but I am sure it is great. DARJEELING XIX ON "THE ROOF OF THE WORLD" " And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven ; and behold the angels of God as- cending and descending on it." DARJEELING'S elevation is much below that of heaven though it is not far from the heaven of the Brahmins; and not all of those who ascended and descended the Mountain Railway had sprouted even pin-feathers on their wings, for many were not of the Across-India parties. But that railroad is more like Jacob's Ladder than anything else I can think of. Two British officials discovered it eighty-five years ago, and it felt like heaven to them, after sweltering in the steaming lowlands of Bengal. True, it was on the wrong side of the boundary-line, but His Majesty's forces in India are much experienced in rectifying geographical errors of that kind. And so it has come to pass that an insignificant Sikkim town at the Pass to Thibet has evolved into another Simla for officers and civilians doomed to work out their servitude in the purgatory along the Hooghly. We went to Darjeeling to see the snows; but they climb 165 166 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD the ladder in the hope of getting a little ginger back into their impoverished blood. Three hundred miles north of Calcutta, it is in a land of everlasting snows. Instead of mopping your fevered brow with a towel and calling pathetically for iced lemonade, you now shiver under your overcoat and beg for the coolie with the hot tea. On the Eastward Cruise, the Across-India trotters left Calcutta in the afternoon of Thanksgiving Day, in a prosaic train of day-coaches that looked like street-cars mounted on high wheels. Out from the city gates and on through the " heat-rotted jungle hollows " and northward still through an endless suc- cession of rice-paddies, we sped along until nightfall. Then we drew up at a landing on the bank of the Ganges and saw a big double-decked ferry-boat on the sacred river. On the well-lighted upper deck of the steamer we caught a glimpse of white tablecloths and white-uni- formed waiters. And so it was that we ate our Thanksgiving dinner on the Ganges, with real turkey ordered by telegraph from the city of the Taj. On the Westward Cruise, we left Calcutta in a fine train of compartment cars and in the fewest clothes pos- sible, for the temperature was 92 degrees in the shade, even when cooled by the flight of a fine train. We had been speeding across the plain of Bengal with our eyes fixed upon a brilliant sunset, whose peculiar golden glow flooded a level landscape that was emerald with its foliage except when broken by the sepia of a cluster of mud-huts or the sienna of ON " THE ROOF OF THE WORLD " 167 a village. Suddenly the glow faded and the emerald darkened into a bottle-green. The cocoanut palms began to tremble, then to sway; in a few minutes every tree on the landscape was silhouetted against the sky with bowed head, and was thus held by the gale fixed in the posture of a worshipping sunflower. Vivid zigzags of lightning were followed by a torrent of rain-drops that hit the window-panes like hail- stones; and then both lightning and rain came in sheets for half an hour. Then it slackened and the arc-lights of the steamer landing on the Ganges shone out of the inky blackness. From this landing, diagonally across the river, the distance is at least a dozen miles; and it is a picturesque crossing at night. On each side of the lower deck stands a native, sounding the depth of the treacherous stream. As each calls out the figures, another native on the top deck picks up the conversation and passes it along to the captain. And all the while a powerful searchlight is playing upon the muddy water ahead. There is just time to gulp down the dessert before bumping into Sara Ghat. (The longest bridge in India is now being constructed here. It is to cost about $10,000,000.) I like Sara, very much. There is always a beauti- ful scramble over the luggage there, for the train of sleeping-cars is in a hurry to leave and the Hindu porters get excited. And a bunch of Hindus figu- ratively standing on their heads is no dull spectacle. Nothing happens during the night except broken sleep, but I have pleasant recollections of the call of a bird 168 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD at 5 A. M. which says " Sweet sugar! " with great dis- tinctness. (Many a time in West Africa have I lis- tened to its beautiful note.) And there was a round red sun on the horizon, and men with dark heads and shins sticking out from white nightshirts and plough- ing with white oxen and " the long line of the Himalayas, flushed in morning gold." Now we break- fast in Siliguri station and transfer to Jacob's Ladder. Here the real fun begins. The railroad is only two feet wide and it is necessary to split the train into two sections in order to climb it. The sight of the forward section creeping slowly up the hill is like that of a hod-carrier going up a ladder with a load of bricks. The little coaches are as comfortable as a street-car, however, and the run is surprisingly smooth. As the crow flies, it is only twenty-seven miles to Darjeeling, but the panting little engine must wind along fifty-one miles. The grade averages one foot in twenty-nine, and the speed is about eight miles an hour. But it is an inspiring ride all the way. Let us now forget about the ladder and think of a serpent. The route is so circuitous that we were often able to wave friendly greetings to persons in the coach ahead or behind us. At a little place called Chunabatti we glanced downward and recognized Rongtong, 800 feet below us, which we had passed three-quarters of an hour before. There are eight places, however, where the topog- raphy does not admit of endless coiling, and at these you must climb by loops or reverses. One of the four loops would appear as a perfect figure eight if THE SUNRISE AT TIGER HILL OUT FOR A " DANDY " RIDE ON " THE ROOF OF THE WORLD " 169 seen from an aeroplane. At the end of the loop the train is about a hundred feet higher up. The action of the train at the reverses is more like that of a lob- ster than of a snake. At Tindharia, for example, the train goes up a steep incline, stops, then starts backward. When it stops the second time, you see the track sixty feet below and realize that you have been backing uphill. The train then creeps forward again and gains another sixty feet as it finishes a second V. And so you go for six hours, circling like an eagle, coiling like a snake, and backing like a lobster until you reach Ghoom, three and one- half miles from Darj eel- ing. This is the loftiest point on the line (7,407 feet), and now you slide downward 600 feet into Darjeeling. The town of Darjeel- DARJEet-tNG. CALCUTTA 170 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD ing (with the exception of the native streets) is also perched upon the slope of a steep hill which it is no small job to climb. Here we ran into a new kind of vehicle the "dandy." Imagine a coffin-shaped box with a seat in it and with a shaft on either side extend- ing lengthwise. Further imagine four of the wildest- looking Tibetans that you ever dreamed of two in front and two behind and there is your "dandy." It is a rarefied sedan-chair. The Across-India party spends two nights in this celestial village in order that it may have two chances to see Mt. Everest. The Eastward Cruise was fa- voured by the gods, but the Westward party had a sorry time of it. But even if you miss Everest, you get a lot for your money in this quaint place. In order to see Mt. Everest you must make a six-mile journey (in a "dandy" or on horseback) to Tiger Hill and you must be there at or before sunrise! That means that you climb out of a warm bed into a cold atmosphere at the premature hour of 2 A. M., swallow a cup of tea, wrap yourself in a blanket, and join the merry throng. Of all the weird processions that I have witnessed, that ghostly line of " dandies " creeping up the mountain in intense darkness is the ghostliest. And it feels ghostly to a lone woman when she peeps out and discovers that her vehicle has become isolated and she is at the mercy of four Tibetan " brigands." But she is as safe as if she were home in bed. We reach the barren summit of Tiger Hill just at dawn and watch the most resplendent sun that ever ON THE ROOF OF THE WORLD " 171 shone; the pink and orange light diffuses across the eastern sky and the great billows of fleecy clouds be- low us go drifting away like a vast current of fleecy down. All at once an exclamation bursts from the ob- servers. Directly in front of the platform on which we stand, the snow-peak of Kanchenjunga flashes up, all a-pink with the first beams of the sun. It is about a thousand feet lower than Everest but is much nearer. At last, as the rays shoot higher, they illumine a dis- tant pyramid of snow, half-hidden by two other pyra- mids and we gaze in silence at the highest summit in the world 29,000 feet and more than a hundred miles distant. On the first visit we shivered in an atmosphere of 31, but on the return trip the ther- mometer had crept up to 56. While I think of it, here is an item for the benefit of those who are always talking about the American's greed for the Almighty Dollar. This being one of the world-renowned tea-districts, it is well known that every visitor will want to drink Darjeeling tea. The hotels, therefore, are particular to serve coffee with the table d'hote menu, so that they can charge ten cents a cup for all the tea that is ordered! The In- dian hotels have lots of tricks like that. And those merry villagers of Darjeeling, with tur- quoise-studded ear-rings hanging down to their shoul- ders and with their faces smeared with pig's blood do you ever dream of them now, Eunice? Many of the women look exactly like some Kiowa Indians that I happen to remember, but they are a good-natured 172 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD bunch. Here comes one with a bunch of ten-cent rings which she expects to sell to the traveller for two rupees apiece. A much-soiled man, whom I should meet in the dark only with great reluctance, holds out a Tibetan prayer-wheel. A fantastic girl or a nearly naked boy sounds out India's national hymn " Salaam, 'Sahib, backsheesh ! " pronouncing it in words of one syllable : " Slom, sob, b'ksheesh ! " On my first visit, I was surprised beyond measure to find that the great Dalai Lama of Lhassa was living there, as a pensioner of the British Government. I had always thought of him as an aged patriarch after the similitude of the Holy One of " Kim," but he is really a young man. On the return trip, he had vanished in the direction of Tibet, with a convoy that was to restore him to his lofty perch. Now watch the course of events as they are coursing in that part of the world. Here is my one best bet: In the con- fusion of things in the new Chinese Republic, Great Britain will walk away with Tibet, which is supposed to be one of the richest provinces of China. And that descent of the ladder have you forgotten it? Leaving in the late afternoon, we were in moun- tain darkness during the latter part of the run. The little locomotive that hauled us was not equipped with a headlight, so the engineer rigged up a flaming gas- oline torch on top of his engine. As we came sliding down the dark mountainside, with this torch flaring in the wind, we were like some fabled monster breath- ing out flame and smoke, or like a king's messenger rushing along the highlands with the torch of war. RANGOON XX BY THE OLD RANGOON PAGODA BEYOND the silt of the hydra-mouthed Irra- waddy, as you swing in from the Bay of Bengal, churn the turbid waters of the Rangoon River, and glide past the sentry-post of palms on Elephant Point, rises a slender cone of gold out of the smoke of rice-mills and oil-refineries. There is nothing in all the templed East, from the mosque of Sultan Hassan at Cairo to the Shogun temples at Nikko, that surpasses it. It is one of the few great shrines that stand out in memory long after others have faded in confused perspective adown the vista of forget fulness. For two hours after passing the Point you stem the yellow current of the river, which flows between low banks lined with rice-fields. Once in a while you see a distant village and a smaller cone, for all Burma is a land of pagodas. Finally the ship slows down beyond the refineries of the Burma Oil Company (which is said to have 700 miles of pipe-line), the anchor chain rattles, and you are looking out upon the ancient capital of Burma. The river here is about three miles wide, very muddy, and with a dangerous current. It requires 173 174 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD more than half an hour for the tender to reach the wharf, and small boats do not risk the trip. Grey gulls, whose wings are tipped with white and black bars, sail languidly about the ship. Ahead is a con- fused mass of shipping; to right and left, a fringe of green and the smoke of mills; and over all, that tapering cone of gold. In all its circuit of this great globe, the Cleveland has never dropped its anchor into a hotter sea than that which runs in a tidal wave up the Rangoon River. Everybody will tell you that the Red Sea is a suburb of Hades and that the sun of the Equator will melt the tar on the decks; believe it not, but pin your faith to the man who tells you that Rangoon is hot. At noon, as the big ship swung at anchor amid- stream, the view from the promenade deck was the most vivid picture of tropical heat that may be seen outside of Arabia and the Sahara. The glare of the sun was blinding, even though its reflection came from the surface of water as muddy as that of the Missouri. The city was enveloped in a blue haze that must have come from the solar intensity, for there was no cloud and the smoke from the oil re- fineries to the right had not energy enough to rise in the face of that sun. A few native canoes were drifting with the ebb as listlessly as if some angel of the deep had drugged every oarsman, but most of the small boats were drawn up on the sand-bars and lay there like frozen skiffs locked in a field of muddy ice for the surface of the river at midday BY THE OLD RANGOON PAGODA 175 looked like a mill-pond in January. In all the range of vision at that hour there was no visible movement of a human muscle. The beautiful gulls that in the morning had wheeled and circled about the ship now floated slowly by on lethargic wing, each leaving on the face of the yellow water its perfect shadow, cast by a sun that hung directly overhead. Even the move- ments of the ripples of that turbid stream seemed to be slackened by the stifling heat, and the enveloping atmosphere was so subdued that the lightest feather would have fallen precipitately to the deck. And yet the Cleveland had steamed many a mile from the beaten track in order that we might lie at anchor here, for the globe-trotter who has not seen Rangoon cannot turn homeward with the feeling that he has done his duty to the East. Rangoon is not a city of successive dynasties and religions like im- perial Delhi ; it has neither the ancient nor the modern palaces that delight the eye at Lucknow; it has not the wonderful street life that you see in Canton, nor the list of " sights " that await you in most of the great cities of the Orient. But Rangoon has its Shwe Dagon pagoda and nowhere else in the world is there a city that can boast anything resembling it, not even in Benares, with all that varied collection of sacred places on the Ganges, from the Mosque of Aurungzebe to the Monkey Temple. And the Shwe Dagon is the whole show at Rangoon. That this tapering dome of gilded and bespangled handiwork rises 370 feet above the vast platform of its base, and that its circumference is a quarter 176 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD of a mile all this is nothing beside the wonderful life that throbs in its shaded recesses or basks in the torrid sun. Here at Rangoon, as nowhere else here in Judson's country, the most Christian of Eastern lands you may best see " the heathen in his blind- ness " and idolatry in its grossest and most massive aspect. And yet it is all so resplendent in gold-leaf and so gaudy in iridescent spangles that you feel yourself to be in some stupendous playhouse or some Oriental bazaar instead of in a holiest-of-all place, whither the feet of pilgrims have turned continuously for two-score centuries, perhaps. When you alight at the entrance, you are con- fronted by a wide stone stairway that is flanked on either hand by a hideous dragon in white, with black and red trimmings. The stairway ascends in terrace fashion and it is possible to climb it in ten minutes. As a matter of fact, you will require at least half an hour for the ascent, for the simple reason that it is so alive with quaint activity from the prosaic street below to the holiest-of-all shrine that opens out to face the topmost stair. The stairway, covered over with a teak roof, is a street of booths, devoted mainly to the sale of small but melodious gongs and huge Burmese cigarettes. The most inveterate smoker would not recognize the Burmese variety if he should meet it rolling down the steps. It may be as small as a lead-pencil but will more likely surpass a Roman candle in size and in odour after ignition. An athletic individual can keep one in his mouth by means of a strong clutch BY THE OLD RANGOON PAGODA 177 with the right hand, and one with good lungs and plenty of nerve can smoke it to the end in three- quarters of an hour. It is made mostly of thick and coarse rice-paper, within which is a layer of leaves and a sprinkling of tobacco. If, after purchasing one, you do not care to smoke it, you may unroll it and use the paper to wrap up your laundry. The last stair leads you out upon the great plat- form upon which the Golden Pagoda rests, and here you may pause at any hour to watch a crowd of pilgrims as they light their tapers at the shrine and burn their paper prayers before the face of the great Buddha. No solemnity like that of a vaulted cathe- dral attends this ceremony, though it is generally serious enough on the part of the worshippers. The throng ebbs and flows heedlessly, with unvarying per- sistence; and now and then, it must be confessed, one of the worshippers will be burning a cigarette while he watches his prayer go up in smoke. Up to this point the Shwe Dagon has been to you a pagoda. As you turn away from the central shrine at its base, the golden cone fades into insignificance and you realize that you are in a village of pagodas. On either hand, as you walk for an hour in the open square that surrounds the cone, are innumerable shrines of the most intricate architecture and the gaudiest ornamentation that the Oriental mind has conceived. Each little pagoda has its own Buddha or collection of Buddhas, and each seems to have its own little coterie of patrons. As a rule the features of the statues are cast in a contemplative mould, but 178 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD now and then you will be confronted by figures that seem more appropriate to a Bowery saloon. One pair that I recall appeared to be in the last stages of a genuine but hilarious " jag." In between and along the thoroughfare, and even within the shrines themselves, are the tiny shops of those who make the Shwe Dagon a house of merchan- dise. Squat at the entrance of this or that is a blind musician, doling out weird sounds from the strings of some quaint instrument that is played with fingers or toes; and squat about him are a few women or girls whose vocal discord is intended to put the passer- by into a spirit of alms-giving. Crouching singly or in groups are yellow-robed, unwashed men with shaven heads, holding out their grimy hands for pence the " droning priests " that you see everywhere in this pilgrim city. If you speak only of the attendants and hangers-on of these shrines, then " parasitic " is the adjective most appropriate, for they feast and fatten on the credulity of one of the most amiable and simple- minded of the peoples of the East. But that sug- gestive adjective fits also the host that makes mer- chandise of this historic temple musicians and for- tune-tellers and sellers of charms and peddlers of everything that can separate a devout pilgrim (or an unbelieving tourist) from a few paltry annas. But the Shwe Dagon has a lovelier aspect when you turn from the temple-dwellers to the streams of devout visitors that empty into the square from each of its four gateways. The Burmese seem to worship FLIPPING THE LIGHT FANTASTIC FINGER THE MAN FROM SUPERIOR FEELS AT HOME BY THE OLD RANGOON PAGODA 179 in family groups, and they have the pleasant habit of arraying themselves in their brightest garments before ascending to the great house of prayer. The men present a sombre-hued aspect, but the little women and the children are a most pleasing picture as they stand before the burning tapers whose incense ascends to Buddha. They vividly recall the lines of Kipling: " I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land ! On the road to Mandalay, Where the old Flotilla lay : Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Man- dalay ? On the road to Mandalay, Where the flyin'-fishes play, An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!" And other incense is mingled with that of the sacred altars, for Buddha does not object to the pungent odour of very bad Burmese tobacco. It was no un- common sight to see a dainty little lady performing her genuflections before a shrine, with the stump of a fat and very black cigar protruding at a nonchalant angle from her tiny mouth. The ordinary Rangoon cigar is more adaptable here than is Kipling's " whack- ing white cherQot," which really requires two hands to manipulate. Though you may have stood in san- dalled feet at the shrines of Buddha in Japan and Singapore and Java and on the slope of the Himalayas, you have not even the faintest conception of the place where they worship Buddha in Rangoon. We saw much more in Rangoon " elephints a-pilin' teak," and dainty girls dancing to outlandish music 180 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD at the Minto Mansions but this is the one overtower- ing memory of Rangoon. " The old Moulmein pa- goda, looking eastward to the sea " may have a more sentimental interest and its Burma girl may be " a neater, sweeter maiden," but the Shwe Dagon is good enough for me. Oh, yes, and this is where our chief romance budded and burst into full bloom in one brief day on the Westward Cruise! Most of the Cleveland romances are of the harmless variety and merely give idle pas- sengers something to keep their guessing machinery from rusting, but now and then one progresses into matrimony. She was a star-performer from the day we left 'Frisco, and there was a new conquest in every port and nice presents, too ! Remember Manila? Remem- ber the Japanese poodle ? Remember ? But destiny was waiting at Rangoon. Was he an Austrian, or a Syrian, or an Eurasian ? What matters that, since he was rich in jewels and embroideries and rupees? She sailed away and left him, but never got farther away than Calcutta. There she flitted and let us hope that life trickles merrily along for them in the shadow of the Shwe Dagon. SINGAPORE XXI THE GATE TO THE UTTERMOST EAST IF somebody in the uttermost East owes you money, or if you have against him a venerable grudge which nothing but blood can wipe out go and sit down at Singapore. Sooner or later he will come sauntering along the Esplanade, for he who once passes eastward will almost certainly be borne again westward through the Malacca Strait and here is the place to swat him. An Englishman who went to the East as a clerk named Tom Raffles and returned as Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles was the first to see Singapore from a swatter's viewpoint. He was then sitting in a lieutenant-governor's chair across in Sumatra where the dawn comes seven hours earlier than in the chan- celleries of Europe but it was more than seven hours before the great light reached the lords of ocean cur- rents and the overlords of dependent peoples. But they saw it at last through imperial glasses and so it is that we found in Singapore a Raffles Hotel, a Raffles Museum, a Raffles Plain, a Raffles Reclama- tion, a Raffles Quay, a Raffles Place, a fungus called Rafflesia Arnoldi, and a heroic statue of the man with the long vision. 181 182 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD They do not do handsome things like that over in Job Charnock's city on the Hooghly, but little does Job care now. Everybody knows that not one of the heroic figures standing on Calcutta pedestals had nerve enough to found a city or to rob a suttee stone of a handsome widow. Now the British ports of the Far East do not fall over their feet in joy at the coming of any party of American tourists, however small, or of any Ger- man steamer, however large. The Colonial Secretary is not seen standing on the dock, speech in hand; the Lord Mayor is not there with the keys of the city; and the Secretary of the Chamber of Commerce is not waiting with a basketful of medals to pin on us. Our English brother is not tickled to see us most dis- tinctly not. However, there are always a few loyal subjects of His Britannic Majesty who are willing to make merchandise out of the event by hiring out con- veyances, renting hotel space (at exorbitant rates), and selling imitation jewels at Tiffany prices. At Singapore, as the big ship made fast to the dock, we saw our reception committee in waiting and a weird committee it was. Picture to yourself a Chinese jinrikisha-man clad only in a loin-cloth and a conical hat made of matting; his brown body shines in the sunlight with the glint of polished bronze, for the torrid sun has turned the yellow man into a brown. Erect, graceful, lithe, and wide-awake, he is a picture in repose; and when he is in action, trotting easily along in harness, with his superb muscles playing on his bare back like sunlight flickering through a mass FRIENDS OF YOUR CRUISING DAYS A KEEPER OF THE KING'S PEACE THE GATE TO THE UTTERMOST EAST 183 of foliage, he is just about the finest specimen of masculine architecture that I have seen in any part of the world. Now multiply this bronze statue by 250 and you have our reception committee on the Singapore dock. Had the half of our party not been scheduled to take the near-by train to Johore, this committee would have been a phalanx of 500. It takes only half a day for the trip to Johore, which is about fifteen miles distant. There is not much to see when you get there a Chinese village at the waterfront, a pretentious mosque a mile in the background, a " palace " that would make a second- class boarding-house, and as many fan-tan joints as there are supposed to be in New York. I recall that the sign on one of them reads " Gambling Farm," so I suppose the proprietor is a prominent member of the Singapore Agricultural Society. Singapore is a melodious way of saying some things that are autocratic and harsh. Here is one of them, set to rhyme: " Hail, Mother ! East and West must seek my aid Ere the spent gear shall dare the ports afar. The second doorway of the wide world's trade Is mine to loose or bar.". Of course, you can get to the Farthest East by run- ning around Cape Horn or the Cape of Good Hope in the good, old-fashioned way; or, if you have plenty of stove-wood aboard and do not mind little things like coral-reefs and pieces of unlighted rock sticking up out of the sea, you can steer around Sumatra and 184 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD work your way to the northwest. But if you want to keep in the middle of the road and fill up your coal-bins as you go, you must be on good terms with the men who sit under the flag at Singapore. The British do not need to bother about who owns the seas so long as they own nearly all the gateways. The Governor-General of the Straits Settlements issues no statistics showing how many tons of red- hot projectiles per minute can be hurled from Fort Canning against a hostile fleet, but I do not wish to book passage on any vessel that tries to go through the Singapore gate without permission. Of course, the admiral of a fleet that should succeed in doing this would have his picture hung in the Gallery of Great Admirals, but there would be a lot of women wearing black in the towns his crew came from. It is one of my eccentricities, on entering a city like Singapore for the first time, to avoid the guide-book until after I have had the fun of letting the place surprise me with the unexpected. It came to me as something of a shock, therefore, to find that this British city here at the end of the Malay Peninsula was really a suburb of China. It shelters about 200,- ooo Chinese, while there are but 40,000 Malays, 20,000 Hindus, 5,000 Europeans, 5,000 Eurasians, and an- other 5,000 picked up at the remnant counter. A col- lection of the male and female of every species and cross-species that lives in Singapore would make the Raffles Museum more popular than anything that has yet crept into it. I had also expected to find Singapore a sort of Port THE GATE TO THE UTTERMOST EAST 185 Said, because it is a sailor's resort. But it is a beauti- ful place and shows that it has a good housekeeper. Nowhere in it do you find' the filth of Egypt or of India not even in a Chinese meat-shop. Big Sikhs patrol the streets, with now and then a Malay or a Chinese policeman, and you may wander anywhere without apprehension. Your 'rickshaw man may get balky if he be one of those hired by the day, but you can tame him very quickly by taking away his " Hapag " flag and writing down the number of his vehicle, with the evident purpose of making a trans- fer and holding up his pay-envelope. Morally speaking, Singapore has attained to no great eminence, but there are plenty of worse cities in the world that have a much more savoury reputa- tion. Mr. Kipling has linked its Malay Street with Bombay's Grant Road in an unholy catalogue, but you may ride to a regular church service for the same fare that you pay to visit an opium-joint. Vice may be selected with the same fine discrimination that you use in ordering your dinner from an a la carte list, but nobody comes around with a trayful of it and thrusts it upon your attention. This hot metropolis here at the roadside is a fine example of what the Celestial brother can do under a humane, sanitary, semi-benevolent government. Generations of British rule have not anglicized the Chinese to any great extent, but the Chief Sanitary Officer sees that he keeps the streets clean. The aver- age 'rickshaw man does not know enough English to cover the back of a postage-stamp, but he is evidently 186 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD more prosperous than his Canton brother. But the most surprising thing about him was the fact that here, beyond the range of the Manchu dynasty and already emancipated in many respects, was the only place in our circuit of the globe where we found the Chinaman with a queue. John clings also to most of his ancestral ways. If you are watchful, you may see him going into the Chinese Y. M. C. A., but you are much more likely to find him in one of the gilded (or squalid) fan-tan bazaars, or in an opium den over at Johore. He proudly posts his name at the edge of a small plot of rubber-trees, but he does not scorn to dabble in the rice-paddies, or to bring his ducks and pigs to market in rattan baskets. He is a merchant and a tailor and a grocer but the washerman from Shanghai an- nounces his trade and place of origin in proud and glaring letters, just as if his establishment were a branch of the Hong Kong Bank. Even here in Singapore, he needs a bath and a fan- tan antidote, and a cure for the opium habit, and an elementary education none of which the Government seems greatly concerned about. But that government has given him what he never had in his own land a chance to live and work and prosper in an atmosphere free from extortion and superstition. And John has grabbed that chance with his long fingers and is show- ing how the Mongolian can pull himself up to the plane of Oriental respectability. I forgot to say that it was quite warm here ! EQUATOR XXII CROSSING THE EQUATORIAL LINE ON the Eastward, our crossing was overshad- owed by a tragedy ; on the Westward, all was comedy. Let us take the comedy first. We reached Latitude o about 10 o'clock on Mon- day evening, March 25th. At 9 o'clock, there came a blaze of calcium light from the forecastle and the man in the crow's nest called to the bridge. The bridge answered and the dripping figure of Triton, Neptune's prime minister, came stalking aft. He was very tall, wore a big bunch of whiskers made from untwisted rope, and a waterproof coat that dripped the brine of the sea. He was escorted by music to a convenient place on the after deck, where the Cap- tain greeted him as a royal messenger. Then Triton made a little speech in German (which was lost on the audience) and said how glad he was to see the Cleveland in his latitude again. Then the messenger of the deep placed in the Captain's hands a rude scrawl from Neptune, announcing that the King of the Sea would be aboard at two o'clock the next afternoon to see that the taint of the Northern Hemi- sphere was washed from the crew and the passengers in proper style. Now came the most affecting part 187 188 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD of this preliminary ceremony. The Captain presented Triton with a huge stein of beer, which that gentle- man was obligated to drink without removing it from his lips. Long rehearsals on the forecastle deck had prepared Triton for this emotional task. Four bells in the afternoon of the succeeding day found all the crew and the band in " full-dress " be- fitting the occasion, while the passengers were swarm- ing all over that part of the ship where the tank and the platform had been improvised. Neptune arises in grandeur and salutes the Captain. Then he announces that we have come together for the purpose of clearing away the dirt of the North from the beautiful ship before it passes through his domains. The first thing is to find out where we are which gives the Astronomer his one chance for the spot-light. The Astronomer's speech is in vernacular German and his gestures consist of manipulations of a crude telescope and sextant, and after a vain search for the Line (which appears to have gotten lost) he at last fishes it up in triumph. Now comes the Pastor. " Let us sing, at the be- ginning of our devotions, that beautiful hymn, ' Haarig, Haarig, Haarig 1st die Katze! ' Since the beautiful rhythm and tender sentiment of this hymn are lost in translation, the original of the first stanza is here given, alongside the English: "Haarig, haarig, haarigist die Katz. " Hairy, hairy, hairy, is the cat. Wenn die Katz nicht haarig war, If the cat were not hairy, Dann pfing sie keine Mause mehr, Then it would catch no more mice, Haarig, haarig, haarigist die Katz." Hairy, hairy, hairy is the cat." CROSSING THE EQUATORIAL LINE 189 The remainder of the hymn is omitted for lack of space, and a description of the music provided by the choir of seamen is omitted for lack of language. Then the Pastor reads the lesson, ending with this exhortation : " Then come unto me all ye that are laden with the following sins : long hair, decayed teeth, and soil of the Northern Hemisphere and get what is com- ing to you ! " Then another stanza of the Katz hymn. The next order of the day is that of hanging medals on all the officers on the platform. Neptune tosses bouquets to each in turn the Captain, Mr. Vogelsang, Mr. Scherer, the Chief Engineer, the Chief Officer, the Doctor, and Mr. Martini. Several ribbon counters had apparently been looted to provide the decorations. Now the Barber comes on with the usual horse-play and the time-honoured wooden razor, scissors, soap- suds, and axle-grease. Certain volunteer candidates were now lined up, the men first. Each sat on the edge of the tank while the barber decorated his features with his preparations and proceeded to shave him. In the midst of this operation, the candidate landed in the tank, where he was repeatedly ducked by the willing performers in charge. This being con- cluded to their satisfaction, the water-logged man was then requested to enter one end of a big canvas tube, which was the prescribed exit. In the course of his transit, he was prodded with hatchets until he reached the half-way distance, and then a hose was turned into the tube. None of the gentlemen were dusty when they came out. The ladies were initiated in a much gentler fashion. 190 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD In fact, their part of the ceremony was of little in- terest except to those participating in it. And this leads me to enquire why it is that some man of genius among the mariners of the sea does not work out something new and novel for this important occasion. The best fun came at the close, when everybody thought the occasion was past. Long lines of hose had been hauled up the rigging the night before and securely lashed there. Each line of hose was per- forated throughout its entire length. Suspicious pas- sengers who had observed these water-pipes were care- ful to get out of range of the nozzles on the end- but they were caught by the hundreds of streams that shot out the moment the hydrant was turned. Those who escaped that sprinkling were pursued over the deck by sailors with other nozzles in their hands, and few were they who did not need to go below for a change of clothing afterward. And it was a sad hour for the passengers with kodaks. And now let us come to the day whose darkening shadows fell upon the Eastward Cruise. Never was an hour set apart by the traditions of the sea for comedy and buffoonery more quickly turned into one of dramatic action and tragedy. The fun-loving passengers were massed on the after deck, around the large tank, covering every square inch of available sitting or standing space. The more ven- turesome were hanging in the rigging or perched upon the awnings or standing upon the life-boats. The men of the sea had of course rigged themselves up in every kind of fantastic costume that they could CROSSING THE EQUATORIAL LINE 191 think of, and had frescoed their faces and bodies with the most vivid paint that could be found in the ship's stores. The band was also fantastically arrayed, for it was to lead the procession of wild Indians and Africans as it came aft. The ship's bell had already struck the hour, but the barbaric masqueraders lin- gered for a moment on the forecastle deck to be photographed. Then they lined up and looked for the signal from the bridge. But it was never given. Sitting quietly in a corner of the lower promenade deck was a lady who professed to be uninterested in the uproarious proceedings of the afternoon. But she had acted strangely before and was understood to be unwell. Just as the hour of two rang out, this old lady climbed up on the railing unobserved and threw herself over. Although it happened in the immediate vicinity of hundreds of people, it was done so quickly that only two persons saw it. Others heard the splash, including one passenger who was sitting out on the gangway, over the side of the ship. Beneath him, face upward but without movement of any kind, he saw the body float swiftly past, but he thought it only a stuffed dummy that had been thrown overboard as a part of the farcical programme. Even when he saw an officer running past him in the direction of the bridge, he did not become excited : it was to him merely the beginning of the show. While the officer was making for the bridge at full speed, there was great activity on the aft hurricane- deck. The Second Officer and two seamen there sta- tioned were stripping the canvas from Life-boat No. 192 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD 13 and swinging it out over the side. The officer and men entered it, took out the oars, and the boat was slowly lowered to within a few feet of the water. Meanwhile the ship ploughed steadily ahead and the passengers expected to see Neptune picked up by the life-boat. But things had been happening on the bridge in the meantime. The moment the officer on duty heard the cry, he signalled to the engine-room to reverse both engines. Then he stepped to the starboard side (the woman had gone overboard on this side) and jerked a cord. This released a large life-preserver that always hangs there. It is an ordinary ring-buoy such as may be found distributed around the prome- nade deck, but it has attached to it a small tank and a torch. When it drops into the water, it rights itself, and the torch sticks up for a yard above the surface. The contact with the water produces a chemical re- action that generates a gas and automatically lights the torch. By night this torch indicates to the navi- gating officer the vicinity of the spot where the body went overboard, and by day he can of course see both the buoy and the smoking torch above it. Meanwhile a couple of ordinary life-preservers had been thrown overboard from the deck below. % The momentum of a I7,ooo-ton ship moving at ordinary speed is not easily checked, even with the engines whirling the propellers rapidly in the reverse direction. It really required only four minutes for the ship to cease going forward and begin to slide astern, but the time seemed much longer. By this time the CROSSING THE EQUATORIAL LINE 193 smoking buoy was far in the distance, more than a mile it seemed, and one could imagine the despair of a weak swimmer struggling with the waves and ob- serving the infinity of distance between himself and rescue. As a matter of fact, it was only about five minutes before the ship had run backward to the buoy. The woman's body had meantime been shifted by the waves, although it remained afloat. It was not easy to discern it, even in sunlight and from the upper decks. Besides, most of the observers were looking on the starboard side, whereas the ship was passing the body on the port side. Then came a moment of splendid heroism. Among the passengers was a young man by the name of Marcus Jordan, of Baltimore. He is about eighteen, athletic, and a good swimmer; but he has the complexion of a woman and is not the type that one would pick for heroic action out of a crowd of five hundred. But young Jordan is made of the right stuff. As the reversing ship drew near to the buoy, he was standing on the aft hurricane-deck. He was one of the few who happened to look in the right direction, and he saw the floating body. The ship was still driving its way backward at full speed, but Jordan hesitated not an instant. Throwing aside his coat as he ran to the rail, he paused a moment to slip off his canvas shoes. Then his body shot over the rail, head foremost, and dis- appeared into the waves. It was a magnificent dive, for the ship's literature says that it is fifty-five feet above the water-line. It was but a moment until his 194 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD head reappeared, for he knew how to curve as he went down. Clearing the water from his eyes, he began to look for the body, which could not be seen so easily now that he was on a level with it. As soon as he could locate it he swam steadily to it, supported it with his left hand, and began swimming with his right toward the nearest life-preserver. And the ship passed on astern, although the engines had again been quickly reversed. With the best seamanship, to bring the vessel to a standstill required about two minutes from the time Jordan dived. The question in the minds of many was whether the swimmer could be reached before he had attracted the eye of sharks, for it is well known that this Java Sea is alive with them. (One of the divertisements while at anchor at Batavia is that of watching the hungry monsters manoeuvre around the stern in search of food.) The instant the ship came to a standstill, the life- boat struck the water. The crew pulled at the oars with all their might and the little boat cut rapidly through the water, which was fortunately almost as smooth as a lake. It soon reached the swimmer, who was now supporting himself on a life-preserver and holding the woman's head out of the water. They were drawn into the lifeboat and it headed for a gang-plank that had been hastily lowered forward. Within seven minutes from the time it had hit the water, the lifeboat was at the landing-stage; two minutes later the ship was again moving ahead at full speed. A group of able physicians was trying to CROSSING THE EQUATORIAL LINE 195 resuscitate the woman within less than twenty minutes of the moment when she left the rail. The log-book record of the accident is as follows : 1:55 P. M. News reaches the bridge. 1:59 The reversed engines have stopped headway. 2:03 The ship, at full speed astern, is opposite the body. 2:06 The ship stops and lifeboat is in the water. 2:13 The lifeboat is again alongside, with the body. 2:15 Full steam ahead. To complete the story, the woman could not be restored to consciousness, although every known method was used during the two hours of effort. Young Jordan himself needed no medical attention but assisted in trying to revive the body that he had risked his own life to save. Shy as a schoolgirl, the recognized hero of the boat kept out of sight for several days, but the pas- sengers declined to let him sink back into obscurity. It was quietly announced that two gentlemen would wait in the dining-salon after lunch on a certain day, and would receive contributions from those who de- sired to present the rescuer with a watch as. a memo- rial. The response was so quick that the two men found themselves with $400 on hand, and they had to cable to New York for a watch expensive enough to exhaust their funds. It met the ship at Honolulu, as the cruise was nearing its end. Mr. Jordan was invited to step into the dining-salon one afternoon after the ship sailed. He found him- self confronted by almost the entire passenger-list, and in the presiding officer's chair was ex-Governor 196 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Gray, of Alabama, who always knows how to do a handsome thing in a graceful way. "Ladies and gentlemen," said the Governor, "you will all agree with me that, as a rule, great heroism requires great in- centive. Napoleon himself had a world to conquer ; the intrepid Grant was saving a Republic the greatest that has ever been or ever will be ; the chivalric Lee was repelling an army from his own home and that of his forefathers : the gallant Hobson saw a brilliant promotion ahead of him. " In the instance that we meet here to-day to reward, this con- dition was lacking. There was no hope of reward, no alluring benefits to be gained. A large party of people on a strange sea a cry of ' Man overboard ! ' a speck of humanity floating upon the waves and then this young man offered his life as freely as ever life was offered. It was indeed as heroic as it was brave, and as brave as it was heroic. It has come down to us from inspired lips that ' Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.' " Then he handed to the young man one of the most beautiful watches ever made. In it is this inscription : " To Marcus Jordan, from his fellow-passengers upon the steam- ship ' Cleveland,' for distinguished bravery in the Strait of Banka on December i6th, 1911." The young man, blushing like a girl-graduate, took the watch and started to express his gratitude. Half- way through the first sentence he broke down. The passengers went quietly out with the assurance that there had been no lack of appreciation. JAVA XXIII IN THE MALAY ARCHIPELAGO BATAVIA is the only city on my map which a traveller may visit twice and come away won- dering if he has been there at all. When you first get ashore at " Batavia," you see a quaint har- bour, a lot of small steamers, and a line of corru- gated warehouses but this turns out to be Tandjong Priok. Here you climb into what the Hollanders call a train and ride half an hour along a canal, past an old Chinese and Portuguese cemetery, and through an endless Malay village. When you get out at Batavia, you find yourself in Weltevreden ! Does one begin where the other leaves off? If so, does the other leave off where the one begins? Is Batavia a trinity, or is it a sandwich? Or is there such a place on the map? Go ask the Dutch. It is supposed to rain thirty-two days out of every month in that part of the universe, but the last after- noon at sea was so hot that you could fry pan-cakes on the deck. Upon the awnings beat the direct rays of one of the fiercest suns, but the angel of the off- shore wind was kind and allowed the breezes of trop- ical islands to bless us without even rippling the per- fect smoothness of a mother-of-pearl sea. Then the 197 198 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD helmsman gave the wheel some vigorous turns and we veered toward Batavia. The sun went down in such a blaze that the least poetic passenger aboard stood in silent wonder at the corner of the promenade deck, for it was one of those equatorial sunsets that awe the soul like the blaze of a great fire. Then came the stillness of twi- light, with a silvery half-moon and the Southern Cross, while vivid flashes of lightning flashed across the star- board sky. There is nothing in Java so glorious as the rising and setting of its sun. We reached Tandjong Priok very early in the morn- ing, with plenty of time to watch the sharks before the small steamer bearing the flag of Henrik Hudson arrived to take us off. On its deck (this was on the Eastward Cruise) was your " Uncle Sam " high hat, chin-whiskers, flag-trousers, and all. Instead of being a Dutch compliment, this turned out to be an Amer- ican advertisement of cigars with a good story back of it. The gentleman in the regalia distributed cards announcing that he was George W. Kriesz, who had started from Denver on January 5, 1909, without money, on a wager that he could go around the world " on foot " within four years. His agreement pro- hibited him from begging, but you were allowed to pay as much as you liked for his picture post-cards or his cigars. He did a rushing business that day. I looked for him all along the line as we came back on the Westward Cruise, but he was not to be seen. Patient toil over maps and histories will establish the existence of Batavia as a fact and locate it be- IN THE MALAY ARCHIPELAGO 199 tween Weltevreden and the harbour. It is the old town, founded one year before Plymouth, Mass., but it proved to be so unhealthy that the Dutch settlers telephoned for the moving-van and settled around that tamarind-shaded square that they call Koenigsplein. Weltevreden is apparently a " restricted " suburb and while it does not exactly beat the Dutch, it beats everything except the Dutch in the line of colonial cities. In Manila, Hong Kong, Singapore, and the cities of India, there are beautiful homes and imposing pal- aces built for the alien white race, but they are isolated structures. In Weltevreden alone, so far as this trav- eller's experience goes, everything is beautiful and in good taste. It would seem to the visitor that every resident of this little Dutch city must be wealthy, for there is no section of it that is squalid or mean. The church that catches your eye as you alight at the Koenigsplein station is a palace worthy of an Oriental prince. The first schoolhouse that you pass on the way to the heart of the city is palatial as well as practical in its architecture. The private residences are dreams of elegance, with their environment of living green and adornment of blossom. And the hotels are unlike those of any other Eastern port collections of artistic and comfortable bungalows where the guest has a little house to himself instead of a room! Pass along the canal that runs lengthwise the main street, after the fashion of Holland : every business house is worthy of place in a city of Europe. Even 200 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD the barber-shop that I examined had been designed and ornamented with as much care as if it had been intended as an art museum. Future voyagers in search of a hair-cut are advised to call at " P. NK- KANAPAT I en KANTASAMI." I do not know whether that is the proprietor's name or something to make hair grow on bald heads, but it is the sign on the establishment. It should not be confused with Mynheer J. de Leeuw's " Hoedenmagazijin," for that is a place where ladies go to buy things. Vraagt " Mulhens " when you need zeepen, for the simple reason that " zij zijn de BESTE!" (I get no com- mission on your purchases of zeepen, but I should appreciate it if, on your return, you will tell me whether you brought it away in a bottle, a basket, or a paper-bag.) But there was one sign off here in this out-of-the- way world that had a familiar look, like a face seen in a crowd but which cannot be placed : AMERICAN DRINKS RESTAURANT GEDURENDE DEN GEHEELEN DAG The joke is on the " Geheelen Dag," if I am correct in guessing that this sign keeps the restaurant open IN THE MALAY ARCHIPELAGO 201 the whole day. It is necessary to explain that business hours in Weltevreden are from 8 A. M. to 12 130 and from 5 to 7 P. M. This allows only four and a half hours for lunch, but you should remember also that nearly everybody goes driving at 4:30 and lets the evening business hours go hang. This fact being duly established, I wish to remark that anything American (even drinks) that can keep a Weltevreden establish- ment open den Geheelen Dag is something to be proud of. This Java is a wonder-land to the traveller who comes from the setting-sun country. The island is full of interesting places and queer peoples for those who like driving and exploring, while there are vol- canoes for the venturesome and antiquities for the scientific. But to me the most fascinating feature of the landscape is the smiling face of its people. Think what you will about the peculiar methods of colonization which the Dutch have followed here in their " Insulinde," they have brought happiness and prosperity to the lowest classes. After the sullen or pitiful faces of the Hindus have faded away in the wake of the eastward voyage, it is a glad surprise to happen upon a dependent people that is so care-free and blithesome as that which you see in and around Batavia. The welcome which they had in their hearts for the travellers was foreshadowed at the railway station by the spontaneous clapping and cheering of scores of school-children and it was not a welcome to pro- spective shoppers, either, for you cannot buy much in 202 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Batavia except drinks and sarongs and funny little dolls and gaudily painted tigers that you lead around with a string like a wagonette. The Javanese were genuinely glad to see us, and the memory of their welcome is the more refreshing because there were not many places in the world where it happened. It is worth the long swing to the southward just to catch a glimpse of what Holland is doing here in this hot and rainy part of the footstool. Its island empire is peopled with fierce, hot-headed races, yet nowhere in the great circle will you find so many well-fed, good-humoured natives as here. Everybody wears good clothes and a contented look and that is indeed a rare spectacle east of Suez. Between Manila Bay and the Bay of Naples, Ba- tavia was the only port of call that did not fly the British ensign. The sturdy stock of Teutons that is there entrenched have made no great ado about its destiny as an empire-builder, or its predestination to colonial government. But the Hollanders have learned how to make a slothful and impulsive race contented under an alien flag and many of those who wrestle with the problems of colonization would do well to make the journey across the earth just to see that this one of the great tasks can be happily worked out. Poverty there is in Java, and plentiful lack of thrift, as in all lands and particularly in those where the sun shines so hotly and the rain falls so persist- ently. But the smiling faces of the lowest estate tell the story. Now " J-a-v-a " spells coffee to people who have IN THE MALAY ARCHIPELAGO 203 never been there but try this over on your piano: The Coffee Fiend (he who sat next the blithesome widow with the soul-mate look in her eyes, in the forward dining-salon) sipped his morning coffee as the big steamship floated idly in the harbour of Tand- jong Priok, waiting for the O. K. of the quarantine doctor. An expression of deeper resignation came over his face with each sip. " To-day, thank heaven, we shall have real coffee at the Hotel der Nederlanden ! " he said. " Why, I thought you liked this coffee ! " answered the widow. " You have been praising it ever since we left Gibraltar." " Oh, it's all right, as coffee goes, but we are in coffee's own home now. Ashore to-day we shall have the real thing Java without Mocha or Mecca or chickory or roasted peas." " Tea for mine, every time," replied the lady. " That is because you are a fiend about tea. Do you remember that special brew of Darjeeling tea on our return from Tiger Hill?" " I most certainly do." " Well, all tea is to Darjeeling tea what all coffee is to Java coffee." ' Then I shall expect you to go on a regular coffee debauch," said the widow, as she left the table. " When you sip your brunette beverage, remember me ! " And she went out with an encouraging smile. The Coffee Fiend lost no time in getting ashore and climbing into the toy train that runs through slushy swamps and rice-paddies to beautiful Weltevreden. 204 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD At the station he transferred to that distinctly Java- nese institution known as the dos-a~dos. Literally translated for no free-and-easy transla- tion is appropriate to a vehicle that is neither free nor easy this is a back-to-back two-wheeler that was de- signed by some half-witted carriage-maker to carry three persons. One sits with the driver while the other two crawl in behind and " back up " against the two on the front seat. Every movement of the pony and every rough place in the road transmit the jolt to the luckless passengers, who might forget some of their discomfort were it not that the low-hanging canopy-top shuts off all view of the scenery. It is " the limit " of human conveyance found around the world, the ox-sleds of Funchal not excepted. Around the mile-square parade ground of Koenigs- plein jolted and bumped the dos-a-dos, passing colonial villas that seemed like little Moghul palaces half- hidden in an emerald-green of vegetation that is equalled only in Ceylon. "And to think," mused the Coffee Fiend, "that all these people can have Java coffee three times a day!" The dos-a-dos finally stopped in front of a palatial building of pure white, with a huge black elephant on a lofty pedestal on the spacious lawn. " Hotel der Nederlanden ? " asked the Coffee Taster. " Nay," answered the Malay cheerfully. " Museum." "Oh, h 1! Drive on!" But the Malay made it plain that he was not per- mitted to pass the vehicles ahead of him, so the Coffee IN THE MALAY ARCHIPELAGO 205 Fiend had to go in and pass the time in that pride of Batavia's heart a great collection of diversified junk from all over the Malay Archipelago, everything that the Dutch have captured, confiscated, or bought during their occupation of Insulinde. But the exhibit awakened no enthusiasm in the soul of the man to whom Java was a fountain of coffee. It was all over at last, and his dos-a-dos drove into the court of the Hotel der Nederlanden. But it was more like a street than a court, for a Batavia hotel is a peculiar institution. On either side you see a row of one-story bungalows, detached but with a covered sidewalk extending along their front. About half- way down the line, in one of the cottages, is the hotel- office, but you must have a guide to find it. At the end of the street is a large building with individual rooms and with a dining-room that will seat four hun- dred people. This, which you take to be the hotel proper, is merely the annex for banquets and balls; the hotel is the street of bungalows, and it is a dream of a place in which to forget that there is such a thing as work. Here in the big dining-room, at one of the twenty long tables decorated with American emblems, the widow found the Coffee Fiend disconsolately, silently, but rapidly working his way through the menu. " How is the coffee? " she asked, as she swished her silken skirts past his chair. " Coffee ! " he exclaimed indignantly. " These peo- ple wouldn't know a grain of coffee if they found it in the soup ! " 206 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD " That's too bad ! It doesn't look very strong," she said, peering into his cup. "That isn't coffee!" he snorted. "That is tea." "Tea! You drinking tea in Java, the home of coffee?" " Well, I have to drown my sorrow in something wet and a drunk man wouldn't drink what they call coffee in this hotel ! " Half an hour later, the Fiend was heard enquiring about the next train for Taiidjong Priok, and to his great joy he found that he could reach the Cleveland in time for afternoon coffee. There is a deep, dark mystery about this Java coffee proposition. In Batavia is an official Tourist Bureau, a Government institution where they speak that strange language that is called English. The Bureau issues a booklet wherein is recorded that Java produces about 35*650,000 pounds of coffee annually. Yet the gentle- man in charge could give me no information about coffee whatsoever. He seemed to be under the im- pression that there was such a product or had been but he did not know in what district it is grown. If the above figures of production be correct, my guess is that 35,649,999 pounds are exported, leaving one pound to provide colonists and travellers with such coffee as is brewed in the finest hotel in the capital. * XXIV INSULINDE'S EMERALD PARADISE A>K any of those who went to Buitenzorg, on either cruise, what was the most remarkable thing that he saw. Answer : " That bum lunch ! " And it surely was bum. It yet looms up on the world's horizon and forms a tie of human sympathy among all those who have gone on pilgrimage to this quaint little mountain town down under the Equator. For it was the poorest excuse that civilized man ever offered other civilized men in the shape of food, and it was served beneath a pavilion that overlooked one of the sublimest valleys that the Creator of tropical scenery ever designed. But if the Government w r ould only plant a few trees that produce boxes of sardines and hard-boiled eggs, the traveller's appreciation of both pavilion and valley would be greatly increased. From Tandjong Priok to Buitenzorg is a beautiful ride of an hour and a half through a tropical jungle. Buitenzorg is the official residence of the Governor- General and of the Botanical Garden, a fact which seems to indicate that neither requires much nourish- ment but needs a great deal of moisture for it rains 219 days of the year, according to the press-agent. 207 208 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD The Botanical Garden is all that such an institu- tion ought to be marvellously beautiful and decorated with botanical labels that no self-respecting travellers can translate. Here I saw a superb specimen of Now what was it that I saw? Was it a Xanthcer- rcea freissi, or a Fiats religiose, or a Pulex irritansf Anyway, I saw it. But the little kiddies with Malay labels on them ah, they were the peacherinas! They swarmed about us at the hotels like Sunday-school picnickers at luncheon-time sparkling-eyed little beauties in clean, bright-coloured frocks, happy as baby butterflies. If the press-agent of the Buitenzorg section were earning his salary, he would be giving to them some of the space that he wastes on such things as the XantJicer- rcca, for there is nothing sweeter in Java except the sugar-cane. But I am speaking now of the little-bitsy girls, not of the maidens who made the dance out in front of the hotel. They also may be irresistible to those who are educated up to that level, but the dancers were most attractive to me while they kept the masks on. But professional dancers are rarely dreams of beauty when observed in the bright sunlight at a distance of three feet. With their light and decidedly fantastic toes, these danseuses made a great hit with the little Malay girlies, so it was worth it, after all. Oh, yes! Speaking about Java coffee, I saw some coffee-bushes here in the Botanical Garden, along with the Xanthcerrcea and other rare and curious plants. r* V." "I XXV A NEW FLAG IN MANILA BAY IT was Christmas Eve in Manila Bay. The Cleve- land, after two days at Pier 5, was slowly creep- ing into the narrow neck of the Boca Grande Channel, between Corregidor Island and the promon- tory of Luzon, and was heading for the China Sea. A brilliant sunset of burnished gold and carmine and magenta had toned down into a sombre afterglow, and the deepening shadows of the overhanging head- lands on either side were quickly bringing the dark. The Man with the Missouri Disposition lounged against the rail out on the forecastle deck, silently watching a small light on top of a little pyramid that was silhouetted against the faint glow that marked the spot where the December sun had dropped into the China Sea. " That rock," he said reminiscently, " is El Fraile. A 7-inch gun up there fired the first shot in the battle of Manila Bay, and the ball flew between the main and the mizzen masts of the Concord, 1,600 yards be- hind the Olympia." " How did you come to know so much ? " asked the (involuntarily) Retired Politician. " I read it in a book to-day," said the Missourian. 209 210 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD " Well, all I've got to say is it's a pity that shot didn't stop Dewey and head off our problem in the Philippines." " What you got against the Philippines ? " demanded he with the to-be-shown temperament. " Everything. We had the glory of taking 'em, and now we've got 'em. But what the devil are we going to do with them? " " Didn't you see what we're doing with them ? It's one of the finest jobs in the world." "For instance?" asked the Politician. " Everything nearly. I am not shouting it from the housetops, but I don't mind telling you that I feel considerably puffed up over what I saw." "For instance, I say?" " All right. That Constabulary Band on the launch, since that was the first thing that met us. It was the best music that we've heard since we left New York, and that's something 10,000 miles out here in the Pacific. That Rajputana bunch at Agra and those wind-jammers at the Singapore hotel that music didn't make your throat lumpy like ' Star and Stripes Forever ' from the horns of the little brown fellows in American khaki." " The band was good stuff, all right," admitted the Politician. " But how does that ramshackle post- office stack up alongside the post-office in Singapore ? " " A darn sight better than the landing-place for steamers in any British port stacks up alongside Pier 5 in Manila," replied the man from east of Kansas. " And there in plain sight was the big cold-storage A NEW FLAG IN MANILA BAY 211 plant, which shows where the American puts the em- phasis in a hot country. Besides, you must remember that the Englishman in Singapore has been at it since 1819; we appeared on the Luneta in 1898: subtract and you have the difference." " But that dust in the streets of Manila you don't see anything like that in a British town?" said the Stump Orator. "You don't? Have you forgotten those chaps in nightshirts that went around Calcutta, pouring water on the streets from a goat-skin bag, or from a big watering-pot in Rangoon? I am not the official lec- turer on Manila, but I could talk for an hour about the things that are done better. I didn't see every- thing, but I had a friend take me out and show me the worst." " And what was the worst ? " " There wasn't any. The streets were nearly as clean as sidewalks ought to be. There was no dirty native town to display as one of the ' sights.' There were no beggars, no scabby-headed children, no fester- ing eyes festooned with flies, no cholera or plague. And say, do you know what Manila was like when we took it ? " " No, and you don't either." " The objection is sustained, but I'm proud of the Philippines, just the same. And I'm proud of the strong- faced, clean-looking soldiers, even if their dingy khaki doesn't light up the sky like the regalia of a Gordon Highlander in scarlet and plaid. And say, the Manila policeman ain't he a wonder? I wanted 212 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD to hug one big fellow up there in the Calle San Sebastian. I asked him how far it was to the Bridge of Spain. He looked up at the sky and said, * It's a right smart piece ! ' I think the Tennessee regiment must have left him behind." " But what do you think of the Filipino, now that you have seen him at home ? " " I'm for him, from now on. ' The little brown brother ' used to be a good deal of a joke to me, but I am a changed man. He is not as big as the Sikh, but he's got better stuff in him. He is cleaner and better dressed and has a better disposition than the north-India rabble. And he's a million miles ahead of the Hindu or Burma nigger, and ahead of every- thing else over here except the Jap. If you ever hear me say anything against the little brown brother again "Or the little brown sister?" asked the Politician. The man who had been shown drew a deep breath. " You know I was born pretty far down toward the Gulf of Mexico down where everything that isn't pure white is black. But when I strolled along the Escolta and saw those dainty little bare-headed ladies, with their starchy, transparent half -sleeves, they looked good to me. I felt like saying: * You're the sweetest thing in the woman line on this side of the sea.' And I felt the same way about the little kiddies " "Especially the girl-kiddies?" " Especially not. The whole bunch of them. The raw material is in them. I watched one little chap who was badly hurt, up there in the Plaza del Carmen. A A NEW FLAG IN MANILA BAY 213 big policeman found out where he lived, put him into a carromata, told the driver where to take him and paid the bill. And the little lad sat up there on the seat with blood running down his face, and never uttered a whimper. I know some children who would have yelled for three hours." There was some more to the conversation, but we must be hurrying along. But before we go into Manila, let us run up the Pasig with Gertrude and Helen and see what the outside looks like. (It is not so romantic as it sounds, for " Gertrude " and " Helen " are two of the steam launches that took us up the river.) You have heard of the Pasig you whose sons or brothers or sweethearts were sweltering out here on the firing-line in the mire of the marshes and rice-fields just after the Pacific Squadron had made obsolete that phrase which says : " The United States is bounded on the west by the Pacific Ocean." It isn't much of a river, but it is picturesque and historic and ours three good reasons for going up it. Curving in from the bay, two small beacons guide us into the straight and narrow channel that leads past the Quartermaster's warehouses and old Fort Santi- ago grim sentinel of forgotten days when Malay and Chinese pirates kept Manila shut in behind the grass- grown ramparts of Intramuros. (Now the pirates are in the American town on the other side, but that is another story.) This old walled city of Intramuros stands between the Pasig and the bay and resembles what New York calls Downtown and the Battery. 214, TWICE AROUND THE WORLD On the right are the light-draught interisland steamers, but they stop short at the low Bridge of Spain. Bridge of Spain how long ago seems that day when we first met the name as we looked up " Manila " in the encyclopaedia to see what it was that Dewey had captured ! Across that ancient thor- oughfare passes the same stream of Filipinos on foot and in two-wheeled carabao carts, dodging the Amer- ican carriage and the trolley-car which forms such a striking silhouette as we pass beneath the bridge. The farther up you go, the better it gets. In the early morning the river is alive with the little craft of the Filipinos, loaded with every sort of product that can be exchanged in the market for pesos and centavos. Most of the boats are of two types the casco and the banca. The casco is a long sampan (some of them must be 6o-footers) propelled by bam- boo poles. The families of the crew live on board and their residence is roofed over with nipa matting so placed at the stern that it looks like a prairie schooner that has passed through a dust storm imme- diately after a shower. These boats are often frescoed with white, yellow, and blue paint and the decorations recall the " flower-boats " of Canton, although art on the Pasig has not yet attained to the lofty altitude of art on the Pearl River. When covered from stem to stern with the matting, the boat creeps along like a huge, jointed worm. The banca is more of a passenger-boat. It is a frail canoe hewn from a large tree, and is so tipsy that a passenger must have the fillings in his teeth exactly A NEW FLAG IN MANILA BAY 215 balanced to keep from spilling himself out. When the banca is long and laden with six or eight passen- gers, each with a paddle, it looks like an African war- canoe. But the dredges of the Pasig do you remember them ? Not the big steam dredges that are pulling the bottom of the river out down below the Bridge, but the long casco dredges higher up. The process of dredging certainly did not come over with the flag. The Filipinos who compose the crew stand in water up to their arm-pits on each side of the big canoe. Each man has a bamboo basket which he pushes down to the bottom of the river and holds with one foot while the other scoops the silt into it. When it is full, he lets go the side of the boat and sinks beneath the surface. When he comes up sputtering a few seconds later, he has the basket in his arms. The silt is dumped into the boat and the operation repeated until the boat is rilled. This is a fair sample of the primitive scenes that confront you on either hand all the way up the river. Here, it is a tread-mill, with two men walking up and down as though on an escalator with umbrellas held over them. Yonder, it is a herd of carabaos taking their siesta in the river. That may not be a very thrill- ing spectacle, but where else have you seen two horns and a nose sticking out of the water and a naked Filipino boy sitting placidly (apparently upon the sur- face of the water) about five feet back of the nose? The Pasig is also full of Filipinos in the early hours of the morning. You may see the family- wash drying 216 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD out on the clothes-line while the family itself is splash- ing the water. The Filipino certainly needs not to go to bed while his clothes are in the wash ! Now what is the most wonderful thing in the city of Manila itself? Opinions differ widely, but if a vote were taken on board it would probably show that the most joyous spot in the city is that corner bazaar where you can get the same ice-cream soda that you were raised on. The streets are more dusty than mirthful, and the bustle and noise of the place drive one into the suburbs unless he or she must shop in spite of the high prices of everything. And, by the way, if you are disposed to grumble at home about the cost of living, ask one of the American merchants of Manila to give you an itemized list of his household expenses for one month. But if you ask me what is the most interesting thing in Manila, I answer without hesitation Bilibid Prison. It is the largest prison under the American flag, but there is no especial glory in that. But it is a place where convicts are regarded as factory hands during the day and treated as soldiers in barracks after work- ing hours. There is no lock-step, no corporal punish- ment, no silent and gloomy cell and yet nine out of ten of the prisoners are wearing the uniforms of good- conduct men, and half of these are 100 per cent. men. And when his term is finished, the convict does not depart with the stigma of penal servitude clinging to him like the mark of Cain, but goes in the assurance that a good job awaits him in almost any part of the Philippines. And not the least remarkable fact about LITTLE BROWN SISTER ACROSS THE SEA A NEW FLAG IN MANILA BAY 217 Bilibid is its stationery; the letter-head shows that the Bureau of Prisons is a bureau of the Department of Public Instruction! I saw Bilibid first at evening parade, as the sun was dropping behind Corregidor and the palms were a-tremble with the first cool breeze of a stifling day. Think of a wagon-wheel whose spokes are long dormi- tories, and whose hub is a lofty tower commanding a view of every square foot of the enclosure. I was standing upon a balcony of the observation tower, and just above stood Colonel L. A. Dorrington, the Di- rector. It was 4 14.0 P. M. and not a prisoner was visi- ble in all the seventeen acres of space. There was no sound of voice or footstep nothing to indicate that I was in the midst of a village of 5,017 men and women. Just as the minute-hand of the tower-clock reached 4 145, sixty-eight honour men swung into view, silently marching down their company street in columns of fours. They heeded a low word of command, halted in front of the tower, and saluted the Commanding Officer. It was the prison band. The Director gave a signal, and from the snare- drums came three short, sharp rolls. Instantly, from every spoke of the wheel, poured forth a swarm of men, in uniforms denoting the various degrees of good conduct. They aligned in squads with a leader as a sergeant, and went through the calisthenic drill of the American army, keeping perfect time to the beat of the music. Then followed an impressive scene. The cornets 218 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD and bugles sounded " retreat " (the army call that marks the closing day) and then the full force of the sixty-eight instruments sounded the first measure of " The Star Spangled Banner." With marvellous precision, the long rows of men removed their hats and held them to the left breast until the national an- them was finished. It is a ceremony to remind the prisoner that he is not an outcast of society but a protege of the flag before which he stands in salute. From the first hour that I spent in Manila I was profoundly grateful that I did not have to live there; and when the last hour was past, this feeling was in- tensified. I am proud of what we have done to make life worth living to the Filipino, but I doubt if life is worth it to the American unless he has plenty of money and an inspiring task to work out. And for the American woman who must live there I have the utmost sympathy. But the American sense of humour survives even the conditions of life, and the Manila Chamber of Commerce is its chief exponent. Long before we arrived on the first cruise, the wireless was exhorting us to organize by states so that we might each be labelled and entertained during our stay in the city. We organized. Men with state labels came out in launches and pinned them on us. Then we marched down the gang-plank and waited for something to happen. By-and-by it dawned on us that it was a Philippine joke, whereupon we went out and enter- tained ourselves until the time when the tourist pro- gramme should begin. A NEW FLAG IN MANILA BAY 219 On the second cruise, I allowed an effusive gentle- man to pin " New York " on my coat, but I did not get worked up about it. Then I loitered around the pier until this became monotonous. Finally I went out to charter a little carromata that would take me to the post-office. Not one was in sight. I could scarcely believe my eyes, for all the Chamber of Commerce knew we were coming, and when. Then I walked in the direction of the car-line, expecting to see a line of cars waiting to load up with American visitors. There was no sound of the trolley's hum. I walked back to the pier, made a few enquiries, and caught on. By a singular coincidence, the vehicles banked up around the dock were livery rigs! How did they happen to know that we were coming in at that hour? Ask the Chamber of Commerce. They will tell you that the foregoing does not represent the situation but my notebook records the fact that I paid $1.75 to get to the post-office. And if you think that I either scorned or overlooked a more economical way of getting there, you have another guess. (And if you think I make a fuss about $1.75 when no principle is involved, you have still another. But I do yell when I get caught in a hold-up game.) Do you remember a certain vote of thanks that the second cruise extended to the City of Manila, as rep- resented by the Chamber of Commerce? And the in- dignation of certain enthusiastic passengers over an interview that the Manila Times had with the author of this book, wherein he expressed his feelings as an American, as requested by the genial Irishman who 220 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD sits in the editorial chair of the Times and did so under his own name ? Then listen. It is not true that the Chamber of Commerce pro- vided those launches on the Pasig, or those automo- biles that whisked you away on beautiful drives. And who was it that paid for the gay bunting that deco- rated the wharf? And who paid one of the Manila citizens 100 pesos for his services in welcoming the passengers, after he had asked for 150? And who, on a former cruise, was asked to pay for the auto- mobiles that the officials themselves used? Probably the City of Manila does not know the answer, but the receipted bills show. However, that interview in the Times was read in Manila, and it is safe to predict that some things that have happened will not happen on the next cruise. A different type of citizen will represent the Chamber of Commerce men of the high grade that engineered our welcome in Honolulu, without presenting a bill for services voluntarily offered to visiting country- men. The fizzle of Manila's reception is probably not due to the Chamber of Commerce at all, though it is of course blamable for entrusting an important pub- lic service to irresponsible men who were quite under- grown for the job. But even the Chamber of Commerce cannot keep me from being proud of what we are doing under the new flag in Manila Bay. HONG KONG XXVI FROM VICTORIA PEAK, HONG KONG THERE is a little memorandum inside my hat which says : " Blessed is he who expects little in a city that features its cemetery or public garden." My suspicions of Hong Kong were there- fore aroused the first afternoon, when the electric cars whisked us across town and landed us at Happy Valley, which is Hong Kong's European cemetery. It is a beautiful name for a place of peaceful repose, but it also carries with it just a faint suggestion that life in Hong Kong is not so hilarious as to prevent the living from contemplating the sequel with fond anticipations. But Hong Kong is one of the world's great meet- ing-places and it is a city that is in every way worthy of the great nation which sentinels the China Sea and the Pacific from the vidette-post of Victoria Peak. Any British subject who enters the magnificent har- bour should be pardoned if he throws out his chest when he sees the public buildings, the hotels, the business houses, and the European residences but the traveller gives them one astonished look and hurries on to find something Oriental and interesting. That is his attitude toward Happy Valley ; as a ceme- 221 222 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD tery it is faultless and beautiful, but the average trav- eller is not out selecting a burial-place. Enthusiasm for Hong Kong really begins at the foot of the inclined railway that starts upward to the Peak, but which stops in utter fatigue about halfway. As you sit in the open-work car and look straight downward, it is no little satisfaction to remember what a pretty place Happy Valley is, if the cable breaks and if they succeed in fishing your remains out of the sea. From the end of the line is one of those panoramas which you can see with closed eyes twenty years later in the foreground a great harbour dotted with what seem to be toy boats, Kowloon and the tourmaline hills beyond, and the roofs of a half- European, half -Chinese city at your feet. But the Peak needs an elevator badly. (Yes, I know that they call it " a lift " over there, but I am writing for over here.) The climb to the summit of the Peak is too strenuous except for those who have been trained at Cheops, and the sedan-chair men have a foxy habit of setting you down at the steepest part and revising the contract. But no mat- ter how much you have to pay to get to the top, the view is worth it. I have been told by a sea-faring man that the harbour of Sydney surpasses this ; maybe, but you must show me Sydney before I change the memorandum which says that this is probably the most beautiful harbour in the world. But Hong Kong is a great favourite with the rain- clouds and the mist. It is a good plan to postpone the climb if you cannot see the top of the Peak from FROM VICTORIA PEAK, HONG KONG 223 the bottom, for that mist is decidedly persistent when it takes a notion to settle down. Hong Kong has been British since 1842 and the maritime business has grown so rapidly that Kowloon, across the harbour, has been leased from China as a storage warehouse for the excess growth. The beauty of this arrangement, from the traveller's viewpoint, is that it leaves the Chinese in possession of all of Hong Kong except the lower street and the hill resi- dences. To trot leisurely down Queen's Road and some of the other native streets at night, when the gay lanterns have turned the bazaars into a fairyland crowded with light-hearted Celestials that is more like Osaka or Coney Island than anything else that I have seen. A distinctive feature of Hong Kong is the Chinese restaurant district. It is dotted with three- and four- story buildings that are brilliantly illuminated. I dare say that a lot of other transpirings are going on contemporaneous with the food, but I cannot speak from personal acquaintance with the interior. If you seek a place for joyous mirth in Chinese style, you can always engage a Chinese guide at the hotel to be your escort and interpreter. A party of six may tickle their palates with bird's-nest soup, fricassee of humming-birds' tongues, and other delicacies of the season for about $10 apiece, including an alleged musical entertainment by four or five of the daintiest little dolls that ever appeared on any stage. And in Hong Kong you will have your best chance to attend a Chinese theatre. You need an interpreter TWICE AROUND THE WORLD here also, for the plot is pretty muddy. Moreover, the drama has probably been in progress for a couple of days before you arrive, so you need some one to give you a synopsis, like that which heads the serial stories in the weekly papers. It is a fine place to take nervous and irritable persons of whom you are not particularly fond. Stick cotton in your own ears, or seal them up with putty, and say nothing about the kind of orchestral music that is coming. " The gentler tones are those of an iron foundry where many anvils are at work." The show begins about 1 1 A. M. and lasts until But what do you care about how long it lasts? Fifteen minutes of it will satisfy the soul-thirst of the most ardent admirer of the drama. After all, the best show in Hong Kong is to be seen from the boat. By day, as the sampans circle around the steamer like water-bugs, you may see what the river life of all China is like. The sampan is a curious specimen of marine architecture, but the life on board surpasses it in quaintness. Mother runs the boat, you will notice, while father looks after the incidentals. And the rowing and other hard work, that also appertains unto mother and the girls ! And that view of Hong Kong at night surely you have not forgotten it. With the lights from the residences that dot the mountain all the way to the top, and with the blaze of electricity and coloured lanterns from the lower town, Hong Kong by night is a necklace of glittering gems, a pendant of dia- monds and rubies and emeralds. XXVII KOWLOON TO CANTON BY RAIL IT was in the dying days of the old Celestial Empire when the Cleveland reached Hong Kong on the Eastward Cruise and transferred us to river-steamers for the go-mile trip up the Pearl River to the metropolis of southern China. At that time the Republic had not been established, but its 12- pointed sunflower flag was the only one that dared to tempt the breeze. (The design has since been changed to that of the five bars.) That long river trip has left with me no particularly pleasing memories. Perhaps the river is too wide or maybe the service on those boats gets on my nerves after living on the Cleveland. Three months later, when the same Cleveland (now westward bound) dropped anchor at Hong Kong, it met official notification that Canton was in a state of wild disorder and that travellers could not be invited up the river. The " pirate " soldiers of Can- ton, indignant at some real or fancied wrongs, had taken part of the city and had reddened the streets only three days before. They also held the forts in the middle of the Pearl River and had threatened to fire on any foreigners who ventured up it. 225 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Exchanging my luncheon for a quick landing, I found that the train from Kowloon to Canton was still running. Half an hour later I was on the little ferry that crosses the beautiful harbour to Kowloon, which is at the extremity of the peninsula that thrusts its nose far out into the bay. It is about no miles by rail from Kowloon to Canton, and there are two through trains each way every day. They are real trains, too, and the track is a real railroad of standard guage. The express train makes the journey in about four hours, but the locals require five or six. I caught the express and found that it carried only one other white man, a German. Every time the train stopped I feared to see him disembark and leave me alone in the turmoil of a Chinese revolution, but he rode calmly on to the end of the line. The other through passengers were an aged Chinese who looked like Li Hung Chang, a dapper young fellow in European clothes, and a fat native who looked like what may be seen in Mott Street, New York. We started with a bunch of local passengers, but they got off along the Kow- loon end of the line. But we didn't pick up any new ones. Passenger traffic seemed to be all in the opposite direction just at that time, and the atmosphere was laden with apprehension. It was a picturesque beginning of this strange and lonely journey across Chinese territory. As the train waited for the signal in the Kowloon station, British gentlemen and ladies rolled by in carriages and 'rick- KOWLOON TO CANTON BY RAIL 227 shaws; then came the gorgeous band of the Indian regiment encamped nearby; and prosperous Chinese followed in the never-ending procession to the ferry landing. Most conspicuous of all were the white-faced Chinese women; their hair was shiny with oil, parted in the middle, and slicked straight back to the dough- nut coil that was plastered on the back of the head. That shiny doughnut is, I believe, a label to indicate that she is somebody's darling and not to be winked at by almond-eyed Johnnies. The unmarried girls wear their black tresses in the familiar pig-tail fashion; but all the female population, married or hopeful, wear trousers and alpaca coats. The clouds were hanging low over the hills that encircle Hong Kong harbour as the train steamed slowly through deep cuts in the peculiar red clay that is one of the characteristic landmarks; over the red had drifted finely powdered white sand and the soft light gave the surface a beautiful satin finish. At times the pink and lilac tones made the slope of a cut look like one vast mass of delicate tourmaline. Then came the blackness of a long tunnel and this opened out into a little valley of vegetable gardens in which men were ploughing with water-buffaloes and women were bent in toil. Now and then a cluster of plaster houses flashed by, or a group of rectangu- lar huts covered with tile roofs. Nearly every hut had a brilliant sign on the door-post black lettering on a vivid scarlet background. Whether it was the owner's name or his endorsement of somebody's pills I know not to this day. 228 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD We had left Kowloon at 2 140 p. M., and we made our first stop at Tai Po at 3 :o6. There was no village in sight, but the scenic view was magnificent. An arm of the sea runs inland here, and the en- circling hills may almost be dignified with the name of mountains. Their sides were barren or sparsely covered with stunted vegetation. But the most con- spicuous feature of every landscape in this part of China flashes out every few minutes the lonely grave on the hillside. It is a whited sepulchre of large dimensions and is shaped like a huge keyhole. Occasionally these graves are seen in groups, but more frequently they are isolated. It is even now the most distinct and melancholy feature of the rail- way journey to Canton the whitewashed scar on the rugged hillside and the broken urn that announces the brevity of human life. At 3 130 we were at Shum Chun, twenty-two miles from Kowloon, and this is the boundary-line between the British and the Chinese sections of the railway. At the stations thus far I had seen a solitary Sikh policeman on each station platform; from this point on to Canton, every station was guarded by a band of Chinese soldiers in blue denim. Villages of all sorts and sizes now loomed up every few minutes. Some were clusters of houses so built that their outside walls formed the wall of the village; others were enclosed in forbidding stone walls, with watch-towers at the corners; still others had solitary skyscrapers standing like silhouettes against the afternoon sky, with little slits to indicate KOWLOON TO CANTON BY RAIL that they were defensive structures and not grain elevators or pawnshops for in Canton a tall build- ing is usually the place where the Chinese " Uncle " sits at the Sign of the Three Balls. From Shum Chun to Shek Lung is a run of nearly two hours and the express makes no stops. During the first hour we ran along between desolate hills dotted with scraggly trees and scarred with the om- nipresent sepulchres. Now and then the view would open out into a small plain of vegetable gardens, with the coolies working in grass raincoats and conical hats exactly as you see in Japan. As the rain drizzled down, its mist veiled the tops of the hills and gave the whole landscape a dreary but fascinating appear- ance. Then came a larger valley almost a duplicate of that seen between Kobe and Osaka and then an- other so level and fertile that it might have been a piece of central Kansas. Shek Lung, the last express stop, is quite a town, or a series of towns, and most picturesque. It is in a large plain and its farms are watered from a small river and many canals. In the vicinity are many orchards of trees that look like the apple. The last half -hour ran between hills whose sum- mits were sentinelled by gigantic and grotesque rocks, without evidence of the existence of the plastered graves that had hitherto disfigured the landscape. Then a tall pagoda shot across the sky and I recog- nized one of the landmarks of Canton. It was now time to wonder if the train would land me right in the middle of a bad fix. All that I knew was that a part 230 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD of Canton was in the hands of bloody men but which part? The German was still on board but, so far as I knew, he might be shaking in his boots as well as I. The possibility of falling into the hands of yellow pirates in a city famous for its torture specialists that thought does not lull one into deep sleep. It had been my plan to go direct to the Victoria Hotel, the only institution of its kind in this Chinese metropolis, and there inquire if it were safe to ven- ture into the native city. But when I left the train at the station, I discovered that I had to cross the city before I could reach the hotel! Not an English- speaking " boy " could be found at the station not even those employed on the train that had brought me. I tried the 'rickshaw men same result. Plenty of 'rickshaws were offered me, but not one of the coolies recognized the name of the hotel. Finally I remembered that it was located in the British con- cession, which is called the " Shameen." I therefore uttered this magic word and climbed into a 'rickshaw. That was a weird experience in a city which is supposed to hate foreigners and whose streets had so recently been reddened with blood. My coolie drew me directly to the water-front and along that crowded thoroughfare where the Eastward Cleveland party had been so enthusiastically welcomed. It was thronged with soldiers and evil-looking water-men; coolies were pushing heavily laden wheelbarrows whose wheels squeaked like hungry pigs and squawked like wild geese. As I passed I saw that their cargo KOWLOON TO CANTON BY RAIL 231 was arms and ammunition. Presently I met a com- pany of soldiers parading with lanterns and flags many of the men without guns. Then I came to the uttermost limit of 'rickshaw travel and thought that I was near the hotel. But this was a mistake. I started out on foot through the narrowest, most crooked streets that the world-cruise knows, elbowing my way through filthy and stolid specimens of the Mongolian race, for this is " the lower East Side " of Canton. Once I lost my way, but the magic word " Shameen " brought forth gesticulations that set me right. For half an hour I threaded the thoroughfare and came at length face to face with a blank wall. I was not by any means infatuated with the looks of the crowd at this point and had decided that I was " up against it " at last. Just as I was on the point of turning back, I saw a Chinese soldier with a gun. He was somebody's sen- tinel but whose? I made for him as boldly as if he were mine. Men say that the Chinese has not the musical in- stinct, but when that sentry stopped me with the challenge " Where you goin' ? " his voice sounded more melodious to me than Schumann-Heink's. Again I uttered the magic word " Shameen " and a pas- sageway opened on the right. The sentinel had used up all his English in the challenge, but his stock of gesticulations was not scant. Within five minutes I was at the French Bridge, which I found barred and guarded by Chinese and French, but which opened freely to the unexpected foreigner. I was now in 232 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD the Shameen, with the Chinese city just across the narrow canal along which I walked. Presently the dark silhouette of a tall Yorkshireman in khaki, stand- ing motionless on the lawn with rifle in hand, told me that I had reached the British section and one hun- dred yards away gleamed the welcoming lights of the Victoria Hotel. There I discovered that it was gen- uine luck that had enabled me to see Canton at night, for the Shameen gates are closed at nine o'clock dur- ing the period of disorder and no one is allowed to pass in either direction. I slept that night in a room that was barricaded with sandbags to the height of ten feet, but I slept. Throughout the whole of the next day I wandered alone in Canton, including the walled city, and met never a hostile look or an act of rudeness an ex- perience identical with that of the previous trip. So I still think sceptical thoughts when I hear of the hair-raising experiences of other travellers who say that Canton is a city that hates foreigners. Unsafe it was, because of the danger from the possible con- flict of two factions of the fiery republicans of Can- ton. But I still pin my faith to the Cantonese and believe that the life of an American is as safe as in any other part of the world where stray bullets are winging their way through the atmosphere. Twice have I been alone in the streets of Canton at a time of riot and I am a small man, easily scared. CITIZENS OF THE FIRST ORIENTAL REPUBLIC XXVIII IN THE NEW REPUBLIC OF CHINA " f^\ HILBLAINS " was the name we gave him \ j n the sly, because he seemed to have a chronic case of " cold feet." You would not think it if you could have seen him, for he was a big husky man and could have felled a water-buffalo with his fist; but whenever the Cleveland dropped anchor in an Oriental port, his blood began to congeal. At Hong Kong where you are as safe in a Chinese street at midnight as if you were locked up in a steel vault he had several attacks of " chilblains." One was near the majestic summit of Victoria Peak, when the two coolies who were panting under his load of 250 pounds went on a labour strike and deposited his sedan-chair in the middle of the road, refusing to carry it further for love, patriotism, or money. " Chilblains " promptly scented a murderous plot and was so fearful that he dared not give vent to the rage that burned within not even when a bantering idiot passed on foot and called out : " Nobody loves a fat man not even a coolie ! " And now, after many hours of pondering and hes- itancy, he was on the Kinshan, the river boat that runs up the Pearl River to Canton. He was sure that violent and lingering death lurked in the Chinese 233 234 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD city, and during that ride of ninety miles he infected a number of other passengers with his chronic ailment. As we crept along the river- front of Canton in the early afternoon, " Chilblains " was very silent. Now and anon, as the motley stream of coolies broad- ened out into pools and eddies of humanity, he shook his head dubiously. Then he gathered together the party of ten shore companions whom he had selected and cautioned them not to smile at anything that they should see in Canton, lest it provoke a vengeful out- break. And when he saw one member of his party with a kodak, he made a big fuss about it. " Oh, you make me tired ! " said the Kodak Fiend. " I shall take as many pictures as I like, and I shall smile at frequent intervals, and nothing is going to happen. These Chinese are not barbarians. Canton is full of American ex-laundrymen and they know our ways. Besides, everybody in China knows that the United States is the best friend their country has ever had, and they are not carrying around bricks to throw at us. Look at that flag! " and he pointed to one of a hundred banners of the new Republic of China a red flag with a white sunflower on a field of blue. " A city that has the spirit to raise that before its republic is yet a certainty, is not going to slaughter the first visitors from another republic." But " Chilblains " was not comforted, not even when he saw the great guard of honour of Chinese soldiers and sailors drawn up on the pier to prevent crowding. The 'rickshaw men hauled us in state to a gay banquet-hall, and a smiling committee sat us IN THE NEW REPUBLIC OF CHINA 235 down to refreshments. Then came a young official to address us in perfect English and to say what a comfort it was to his people to have a visit from Americans at this critical hour in their history. " The word ' Pacific ' has a new significance to me now," he said. " With the American Republic on one side of it and a would-be Chinese republic on the other, ' Pacific ' will really mean ' peace ' ! " And he hoped that out from us would come some Lafayettes to help in the struggle for independence. Then the Americans went sight-seeing in groups of ten, but when " Chilblains " stopped to count his party there were only nine the Rochester Fiend having bribed his coolie to get lost. And so he made snap- shots all along the narrow streets and smiled at every crowd that jammed the passageways and the only " outbreaks " were the grins of the Chinese who smiled back and " jollied " him on his way. When the last whistle of the river-boat had blown, the Fiend crept reluctantly up the gang-plank and ran into " Chilblains " on the upper deck. " I have been worried about you all afternoon," said the big man, reproachfully. " We were afraid something had happened to you." " It did," said the Fiend, unblushingly. " My 'rickshaw man got lost in the crowd." The Kinshan began to churn the muddy waters and to slip slowly out to midstream, away from a mass of Chinese humanity that packed every square foot of space along the water-front. And then a surpris- ing thing happened. As if moved by a universal 236 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD impulse, that vast throng took off its hat and began to cheer the Americans. For fifteen minutes they kept it up, standing with bared heads from which the queues had so lately disappeared and with their daring flag floating defiantly toward Peking. No such genuine outburst of good feeling had greeted us anywhere since we slipped out of the Hoboken docks. It was one of the unforgettable scenes of the world- cruise, for we were not blind to the fact that the lives of these cheering Cantonese were hanging by a thread, which would be snapped if the Manchu dynasty should regain its lost dominion. Late in the night the Kinshan drifted into Hong Kong harbour and floated up to the side of the big Cleveland. " Chilblains " was among the first to make the transfer when the gang-plank was made fast. Halfway up the companion stairway he was in- tercepted by one of the nighthawks to whom a world- cruise is one long poker-game. " Well, what kind of a time did you have ? " "Interesting," replied "Chilblains," "but it was mighty ticklish. They had to order out 3,000 troops to keep back the mob. I tell you, it's a great relief to get back without an awful tragedy ! " The Kodak Fiend overheard in passing, and he paused to make fitting and forcible comment. But his remarks are not herein set down, for several reasons. Never was there another city like that Canton. If you approach the city by boat, you are in town IN THE NEW REPUBLIC OF CHINA 237 a long time before you get into town, for the simple reason that about 400,0x30 of the people live on the water. The police captain who has charge of the water district must have a busy time if he works at the job, for it is a wild and woolly population that lives on the sampans. Besides, the river is the place where most of the city's high jinks are held. When a bachelor dinner is to come off (and, in practice, all Chinese are bachelors), the host does not take his friends to his club or engage a table at a swell restaurant. He charters one of the " Flower Boats " and figuratively puts to sea. The " Flower Boat " seems to be quite an institu- tion in this Chinese city. It is a little house-boat gaily decorated with coloured lanterns and fitted with all manner of luxurious lounges. The food and the drinks and the smokes and the music and the dancing and all the appurtenances thereunto belong- ing are all ordered in advance from the menu card and provided by the skipper of the boat. When everybody is aboard, the boatmen push the craft out into the stream and let it drift until such time as the guests may need to return to the office. It is quite unnecessary for them to go home, when there are such luxurious accommodations closer at hand. And, if anybody at home chooses to make inquiries the next day, the guest can of course explain how precarious it is for a gentleman to pass through the streets of Canton at night. I believe, however, that it is only the female members of the household who are called upon for explanations in the Orient. 238 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD If there be anything in Canton more interesting than the sampan life of the river, it is the life of the streets. More strange even than the streets of Cairo, that life is fascinating in a very different way. The narrowness of the streets is almost inconceivable. There is just room enough for your sedan-chair to pass with the other folks lined up against the wall, with their stomachs drawn in. It is quite impossible for two chairs to pass in the street; one must back into a shop or into a side street, warning being given in advance by the constant yelling of the chair-men. And does it not give you a feeling of wondrous im- portance to be carried through the street in lordly state and see at least two hundred people in every block flatten themselves against the wall to let His Excellency go by! When you reach the corner, you wonder how your men are to get your chair around the bend. Very easily; they manipulate it in the same way that you handle the dining-room table when trying to get it through a doorway. I remember one street in the walled city that is wide enough for two chairs to pass. That, I take it, is a boulevard. The water-front is another, for there are houses on only one side. This thoroughfare is provided with 'rick- shaws, but if you abandon the waterside you must also leave your wheeled vehicle behind. Not even a wheelbarrow can pass through the heart of town. And what a continuous picture-show greets your eyes as you travel a Canton street! The shops all open on the street (there being no sidewalks) and many of them are filled with the gayest of fabrics IN THE NEW REPUBLIC OF CHINA 239 and the most precious of gem-stones jade being the most prominent. There are entire streets given over to the jade workers, others to painters of pictures on rice-paper, others to the woodworkers, and so on through the arts and crafts. One of the most curious is that of the kingfisher jewellers. Their craftsman- ship recalls that of the damascene workers of Japan, but it is more ingenious. The Cantonese take the small, brilliant feathers that blossom under the wings of the kingfisher-birds and glue them to the metal base of, a belt-buckle, let us say, in such a way that the design is as perfect as if cut with a die. There is also some very clever work in ivory carv- ing. A man takes a large tusk and works on it for years. At the end of his task you have a tusk full of billiard balls, each smaller than the other, each exquisitely carved. Yet it is apparent that the carv- ing had to be all done through an opening that will but admit your finger, for the balls are and always have been inside the tusk. The carving is done by revolving each ball and working through the small aperture. Then there are the delicatessen shops, with roast pigs and ducks and dogs and rats all nicely varnished and within easy reach of your chair. Moreover, the butcher-shops also open on the street and are within easy reach of your sense of smell but with great force of character I resist the temptation to go into elaborate detail at this point. The Cantonese seem also to be great eaters of fish, but they are particular about the fish being fresh. In the market therefore 240 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD (and the market may be suspended from a bamboo pole across a coolie's shoulder), you see tubs of water with the live fish swimming in it. But suppose you do not wish to buy an entire fish? Oh, very well; we'll hack it in two and the remaining piece will show by the blood that it was fresh a few minutes ago. As might be expected from a city of filth and wickedness, Canton is full of temples of all sorts, but they are different from the others in your round-the- world collection. They cannot be called beautiful, but there is much wood-carving that would bring fabu- lous prices and no little frescoing. Besides, the gods on exhibit are no dull show. They are all of the kind that frighten bad boys at night. For instance, there is the Temple of the Five Genii, who brought good luck to Canton in the long ago. They rode into the city on rams which aeroplaned through the air. If you are sceptical about the story, you may see the rams themselves, for the genii caused them to be turned into stone. And if five be incon- sequential, you may pass on to the Temple of the Five Hundred Genii, where the whole battalion of plaster and stone gods is lined up. And look who's here! Your old fellow-traveller, Marco Polo! He sits among the gods as complacently as if he had gone to school with them when a boy. Then there is the Temple of Horrors, once adorned with sculptured representations of all the forms of torture that the ingenious Cantonese mind could think of in connection with the hereafter. But at the time IN THE NEW REPUBLIC OF CHINA of my visit there was a great emptiness, for some- body's soldiers had smashed the whole collection into flinders. The devotional artists were busy modelling new ones, however. One thing about the Temple of Horrors struck me as in keeping with the eternal fitness of things. In the vestibule was a group of stalls and in one of the stalls I saw a dentist a real dentist, one of the kind that pulls out the teeth while you wait. Wonder why the soldiers did not smash him also? There is also the Chiu Shing Temple, dedicated to one of the gods of healing, and this is the place whither come those who are themselves afflicted, or whose hearts are heavy because of illness at home. It is a- pathetic place, and the pathos of the worship- pers whom I saw restrains me from making merry over some of the grotesque features connected with it. As for the Flowery Pagoda and the Five Storey Pagoda, they are to me merely picturesque adornment of the landscape. I saw nothing noteworthy when I came close to them. A far more interesting thing to do is in the walled city.. Go up to the North Gate and climb to the top of the old wall, from which you may overlook the wonderful city. This is the place also from which to view the larger and silent city of the dead the inconspicuous resting-place of the com- mon dead. And beyond the wall is the one beautiful place that I found in Canton a place of flowers and ever- greens. I believe they call it "The White Cloud City," and it is the clearing-house for the wealthy TWICE AROUND THE WORLD deceased. Here, in lacquered coffins of great value, are men and women whose burial-places have not yet been determined by the professional astrologers. Some of them have been here for years, paying high rent all the time. Curious it is to find this burial-place, clean and neat and fragrant, in a city where the living reside in the midst of conditions that make a livery stable seem like a summer garden. But why try to describe Canton ? Every paragraph here might easily be expanded into a chapter. But do not forget one important fact that Canton, with all its disgusting features, is one of the most important cities of China and is a city to be reckoned with. It has always played an important part in the history of China and is withal a city of learning. It is curious, too, that it is a city of fighting men and of revolutionists. The career of Dr. Sun Yat Sen (the truest patriot in China and the man who made the empire a republic) is closely identified with Canton and the neighbouring Portuguese city of Macao. Oh, yes, I forgot to speak about my guide in Can- ton. All the other great travellers whose literature I have been reading lately were led about the city by a gentleman bearing the name of Ah Cum. I missed him somehow. But the other dignitaries have nothing on me. My guide was none other than Chee Leong. And you do not know Chee Leong? Then listen: he it is who bears testimonials from the Hon. Myles Ponsonby. And who is the Hon. Myles? Why, he is " M.R.C., V.O., A.D.C. in waiting to H.R.H. the Duke of Connaught." AGASAKI XXIX NAGASAKI, LAND OF BABIES NAGASAKI is one of many places where you appreciate the advantage of globe-trotting in a bunch and not in couples and singles. In- stead of landing unnoticed by anybody except the customs officers and the police, the reporters are out in force, the merchants swarm over the ship, and the Mayor's secretary comes down to beg as a special favour to him that you will accept the city's keys. Everybody in town knows about you and has on a clean dress. The Mayor takes you up to a tea-house, feeds you, and gives you a geisha dance, or has a kite-flying out in the meadow. And this is the way it goes all over Japan. But when you are travelling alone, the town does not stand on its head and wiggle its feet in the air. From the moment the first Japanese climbs over the side of the ship, prepare yourself to be deluged with printed matter. This is a sample : In 1887, General Grant visited our factory while stopping at Nagasaki, on the occasion of his memorable trip around the world, and took many pieces of our ware as souvenirs of the visit. In 1900, Russian Emperor gave us honorable order to purchase our fine art articles. 343 244 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD In 1903, Siam Prince, on the way of returning from tour of inspecting Nikko, Japan, stopped Nagasaki and favoured us to purchase every kinds of our articles. In 1904, Miss Alice Roosevelt, the daughter of President Roose- velt, favored our factory with a visit and complemented us upon the great excellence of our goods. In 1906 PRINCE IMPERIAL ARTHUR FREDERICK PATRIC ALBERT OF CONNAUT on the occasion of his coming to Japan, arrived Nagasaki gave favorable purchase of our each articles. I have three catalogues of " sights " in Nagasaki and one distinct impression that four out of five of them are not worth walking ten steps to see. Nearly everything is much better somewhere else. The things that are most worth while in Nagasaki are not on the lists at all, so here goes to make a new one : (1) The Coaling of the Ship. Nothing like it anywhere else in my world. As soon as the ship is made fast, it is surrounded with coal barges full of coal, men, women, and babies all chattering like a convention of blackbirds. Rope-ladders are strung all over both sides of the ship and up swarm the coal-passers, mostly women and girls. There is at least one on every round of the ladder, and there she stands the livelong day, passing over her head the little baskets of coal that travel from hand to hand up the human belt-conveyer. As much as 5,000 tons travel this line in a single day sometimes. (2) Small Fry. Away back on the horizon of memory is a half -dimmed picture of a street-car- nival in a Kentucky city. One of its spectacular features was a baby show, with big prizes for the handsomest. Competition was open only to those of NAGASAKI, LAND OF BABIES 245 unmistakably African descent. There I saw more babies to the square yard than in Japan but only there. The little empire is simply alive with them. A girl six years old or under who does not have a baby strapped to her back is not fully dressed for the street; and if the elder sister does not happen to be a girl, then the boy must be the perambulator. (3) Deichman. And what is Deichman? Oh, technically speaking, he is the American Consul, but that is merely the way he makes a living. In reality he is one of the jolliest good fellows that may be found in the whole world-circuit. Nagasaki is the only place where American travellers may expect to find that the representative of their country is even mildly interested in their arrival. True, the Consul at Hong Kong came aboard on the Westward Cruise but only to order everybody to be vaccinated. But don't you remember that long table in Consul Deichman's home, loaded with every kind of cake that mother used to make? And the big tubs of lemonade? And the little side-room where the men could step up and order malted milk or Vichy as many times as they liked? And a big, hearty, fun- loving host who made everybody feel that he was having the time of his life? Memory is short and treacherous, old man, but here is a hand still waving to you there across the sea! It was not the cake nor the lemonade nor the little dinner-parties where we were so glad to be aboard; it was the fine spirit that prompted it all, and the splendid way in which it was done. You're 246 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD the best thing in Nagasaki, even if you are not down in the guide-book. (4) Tea-House. The next best fun in Nagasaki is it not so, Uncle Dan? is to whirl away after nightfall with a small party of dignified passengers and sit down on the floor before a Japanese dinner. And after you have disentangled yourself from the chop-sticks, a geisha dance. Now, for the first time, you see the Japanese girl of your dreams the girl who is on all the post-cards. Six of them, merry little dolls, cut up shines all by themselves for a while, and then invite you to get into the game. I have a vision of Uncle Dan (who in the home town is pointed out to wayward boys as a model of pro- priety and gravity) arrayed in a crimson robe and chasing scandalously around the room in a game of blind-man's buff. And of Aunt Susan (who is head of the Ladies' Auxiliary and all that sort of thing), dressed up as a geisha and trying to act like one. And the little dollies probably went to bed sick from too much laughter. Nagasaki is the port where you say either " Hello ! " or " Sayonara! " to Japan. It therefore deserves to live in memory, for Japan is the pleasantest land of all the earth for the globe-trotter. But whether it be here or at Yokohama that you say farewell, you will feel the force of the exquisite sentiment wrapped up in the word " sayonara " " Since it must be so! " INLAND SEA XXX CRUISING ON THE INLAND SEA A^TER full reflection upon two cruises through this famous body of water, the doctor finds that my pulse is normal and that the stage of excitation has not yet set in. Not that I have any- thing against the Inland Sea. It looks like a good place to bathe, and there are probably fish in it. But if I had as much water in my front yard as Japan has, I should not make so much fuss about this moist insert. In the first place, the Inland Sea is mostly sea just the same sort of sea that you see elsewhere, See? It is from eight to forty miles wide, so it is quite impossible for you to see anything except water unless you are passing through a narrow channel. The entrance through the tortuous channel of Shim- onoseki is worth getting up early to see but how are you to know that you will pass through it before breakfast? And there are times when you pass close to islands that are of great scenic beauty, especially about midway, but I have seen islands that were equally picturesque elsewhere and no fuss made about them. But I have a suspicion that the enthusiasm of the 247 248 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Japanese is in a measure justified. Most of them view their pet sea from the land side or from small steamers that run close in shore. If you reverse the traveller's view and look out upon the sea from the shelter of an overhanging pine of the quaint scraggly variety, I have an idea that it is indescribably pic- turesque. And in the summer season, it is probably great sport to spend the two-weeks' vacation at one of the bathing resorts along its shores. But merely to ride through it in the winter season that is not my idea of a high old time. If I had it to do over again, I should spend n yen and n sen (about $6) for a railway ticket to Yokohama (second class) and see what I could of the quaint villages of Japan. Bear this in mind. The sooner you let the love of the little Japanese pine into your soul, the more joy you will get out of your visit to Nippon. I have a mathematical eye that can appreciate a tree that rises straight as an arrow to a lofty height, but I confess an abiding affection for the little crooked dwarf pine that the Japanese so dearly love. You will see them everywhere on the landscape and even in flower-pots, and when you get back to the place where all the dogs know you, one of your regrets will be that you came away without one. The love of these little scraggly trees is so inbred that I should not be surprised if the Japanese have cut down all the straight ones, except the great cryptomerias. XXXI KOBE, A JAPANESE HOBOKEN YES, I know that Kobe is the second port of Japan and that it is a great city of nearly half a million people. Hoboken is also a great place for shipping and has quite a population itself. But how many travellers would go to Hoboken merely to see its " places of interest " ? To show you that I have no personal prejudice against the second port, let me say that I have read over the list of seven places that the Oriental Hotel of Kobe has set down as " Places to Visit." One is a temple with a 47- foot bronze Buddha; another is a temple dedicated to a man who committed suicide ; a third temple is distinguished by the fact that the Empress Jingokogo cut a fishing-pole on this site, but history neglects to say whether she caught any fish with it. No. 4 is a park " commanding a very fine view." No. 5 is a porcelain factory where you can spend your money. No. 6 is a waterfall that one of the Japanese newspapers made fun of while we were there; it seemed to be a joke that we should have been told about it. No. 7 is the Main Street. By reason of the fact that I used Kobe as a con- venient base of supplies for side-trips to Osaka, I had 249 250 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD only one full day there on the return cruise. Do you want to know how I enjoyed myself? Here is the record in my journal: A.M. Remained on board. P.M. Loafing in Main Street. But Main Street is not a bad place to loaf. It is full of odd little shops with all sorts of queer sign- boards over them, and it is one of the best places in Japan to buy coloured photographs and postcards. On the Eastward Cruise, Kobe was our second Japa- nese city, of course, and therefore of considerable interest. The novelty of Japanese life was of itself sufficient to make up for the lack of worth-while places to visit. But after you have seen the temples of Nikko and Kyoto, you are not likely to get excited over Kobe and Nagasaki. But there is one dream of a place in Kobe the Tor Hotel, up on the hill. I have seen it only from the outside, but the grounds are laid out in such a charming way that I wanted to stop and live there. It also commands a beautiful view of the harbour, a harbour which is always crowded with shipping and wherein the building of battleships seems to be going on apace. But why use up good grey matter and good white paper and good black ink on a town that is merely a point of departure for Kyoto, Nara, and Osaka? XXXII KYOTO, THE SOUL OF JAPAN I SAW it first by lamplight in the chill of a Jan- uary rain. I have seen it also draped in snow and bathed in bright sunshine. Each time it was as it is to-day, the incomparable city of Japan the incarnation of all that is finest and truest in the Japanese character. And when the hour of parting has come, invariably has crept over me the wish to stay and dream away the monotony of existence. For Kyoto is the soul of Japan that Japan of the olden time, before ever the foreign ideas came over and before the exquisite work of the craftsmen was hawked about in crude imitation. Then it was that every piece of bronze or cloisonne was a work of art, the genius of a poetic soul finding expression in that form instead of on a canvas or in a rhythm of verse. Kyoto stood for what Boston was in the days of Emerson but will never again be; and for what Virginia stood in the young chivalric days of Robert E. Lee. And if you will turn aside from the tourist highway in the Kyoto of to-day, you may hear again the heart-beat of the old regime. For instance, there is an inconspicuous holy place that bears the name of Nisa Teramachi. Within is 251 252 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD an aged monk whose affection centres mainly in things that are of the earth, earthy the dry and decaying stumps of plum-trees that are said to be two or three centuries old. Out from each gnarled stump is a single branch through which courses the life-giving sap. Each of these twigs was covered with buds when I worshipped at the shrine, and the old man was nursing them as tenderly as if they were incubator babies. And his patient, affectionate effort to keep alive that which is ancient is typical of the spirit of Kyoto. Then there is the Commercial Museum, the finest that I saw anywhere in Japan. It was one of the last places on your programme, you remember; it would illy serve the interests of the bazaar-keepers at the hotels if you should go there first. At the Museum you are met in the doorway by gracious young women who speak English and who have the most exquisite manners. They escort you upstairs and place tea and cakes before you. Then, at your pleasure, you are taken on a tour of glass cases wherein are ex- hibited specimens of every kind of workmanship that Kyoto produces. Each article bears the name of its maker and the correct price. If you fancy anything that you see, the 'rickshaw will take you to the shop and you know exactly what you should pay. One instance will show you how the system works. A traveller became enamoured of a cigarette-case which he saw in one of the shops and bought it for 30 yen. He left it for the time in order that his initials might be frescoed on it. During the day he KYOTO, THE SOUL OF JAPAN 253 wandered into the Museum, saw the same case in the same man's exhibit, with the price of 15 yen marked thereon. Did he make a fuss about it? He surely did, and saved $7.50 by the transaction. And that is exactly what Mr. Niwa, the Director, has set himself to do. The idea of the Museum is not only to exhibit the craftsmanship of Kyoto but to save travellers from imposition. When you remember also that Kyoto was the cap- ital of the Empire up to 1869; that it has been the home of poets and artists; that its Geisha School still trains the most artistic of these professionals; and that it is a university city, you will begin to have some idea of its importance. And I have a sort of an idea that there is no ecclesiastic in all Japan who can lord it over the Chief Priest of the Higashi Hong- wan ji of Kyoto. Do you remember the paintings and decorations in the Imperial Palace those masterpieces of old Japan? You didn't think much of the two little sparrows sitting on a solitary twig, sleeping against a back- ground of snow. The picture did not " tell a story " that is, it told none to you. But it is like a Sistine Madonna to a Japanese of the Samurai days. And you may recall the beautiful satin finish of the wood- work in the temples, unvarnished and unstained. So it is that the Japanese love it; the worshippers of the same Buddha at Rangoon would have it all covered over with gilt paper or red paint. There are nearly 900 temples in this ancient and fine-souled city, and most of them are Buddhist. The 254 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Chion-in (the temple on the hillside with the large bell, weighing 100,000 pounds) is one of the largest in Japan; and when you have seen it and the Higashi Hongwanji, you need not waste time on any other temples except at Nikko. At the famous Higashi Hongwanji (which is near the station) is a coil of rope cable. The cable is ninety feet long and its circumference is nine inches and it is made of hair. There are twenty-nine of these coils preserved in the temple, and they represent the sacrifice of Japanese womanhood. The temple was built by free-will offerings, and the women who could do nothing more gave this and you who have seen the care that Japanese women take with their hair can appreciate that the sacrifice was very real. And I have no doubt that the offering was as pleasing to Him who sitteth upon the throne as any whole burnt-offering that ever ascended from a Hebrew altar. If that be heresy, make the most of it. Supreme in nearly every other excellent thing Jap- anese, Kyoto has also the most magnificent hotel that I saw in Japan. It was a fairyland from the outside, with its hundreds of lanterns and its wonderful land- scape gardening. And where in all the world have you ever been served by such exquisite little maidens as those who flitted like butterflies through the great dining-room of the Hotel Miyako ? Surely they must have been trained in the Geisha School in the lost art of being simple and gracious though beautiful. They, too, go to make Kyoto what it seems to me the imperial city of Japan, XXXIII NARA, THE DEER-EST OF ALL A) you stood in front of the beautiful hotel in Nara, Eunice, looking out over that picturesque landscape, did you realize that it was a place of astonishing antiquity? Twelve hundred years ago think what the world was then ! Nara was the capital of Japan. And as you went up the long, shaded Ka- suga Avenue that is flanked by the three thousand stone lanterns and saw that group of strangely dressed pil- grims ahead of you, did you stop to think that " men clad as these were climbing up to Kasuga when Chaucer's pilgrims were making their way to the shrine at Canterbury " ? But perhaps you were too busy feeding the deer to do much thinking about pilgrimages and dynasties. The great park is fairly alive with these gentle creatures and they are very fond of rice-cakes. There- fore, the sellers of postcards deal in the national bis- cuit of Japan, in order that the eager traveller may go home and tell of a time when deer came out of the woods and ate from his hand. And the flocking of these graceful animals everywhere along the road- side led the late Dr. Hough to gracefully refer to 255 256 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Nara, in his response to the Mayor's speech, as " the deer-est of all." The Kasuga and other temples in the vicinity were interesting while we were looking at them; but not distinctive enough to stand out in memory's perspec- tive like the big Daibutsu in that barn-like structure that should never have been built around it. Four times, I believe, it has burned to the ground, but Buddha sat through each of the conflagrations with stolid indifference. It is the largest idol in Japan, but not so pleasing to me as that of Kamakura. Here are the dimensions: Height, 53^ feet; length of face, 1 6 feet; breadth of face, g l / 2 feet; diameter of nose hole, 3 feet; circumference of lotus, 69 feet. And did you see the pigeons feeding in the temple yard ? Or were you too busy tying your paper prayer to " The Tree of the Lovers " ? But they say that there are six trunks interlocked in that inseparable embrace, Eunice. Is there not something a little creepy about your petition being offered on that altar? Suppose the prayer should come true ! Think of the succession of widowhoods that await you down the lane! But let us hope that you did not comprehend the multi- plicity of trunks when you were worshipping at this Juliette pagoda. XXXIV A JAPANESE CONEY ISLAND YOU have circumnavigated the globe; you have been to Japan; perhaps you have even crossed Japan; another perhaps, you have been in Osaka. But unless you have ridden down the main street of Osaka by night, I suggest that you go back. Just on general principles, a Japanese city with a million people in it is worth seeing. And when it is the chief manufacturing and commercial city of the empire, it is again worth seeing. But it was not the sight of Osaka's fine factories and beautiful buildings and picturesque canals that interested me most. It was that night ride. I do not know how long it takes to travel that Shinsaibashi road into fairyland, but the joy-ride must be at least an hour in length. And when you come to the end of the narrow lane, you realize that you are just getting into the thick of things Doton- bori and the theatres and the picture shows and the fun-loving crowd. No 'rickshaws are allowed in the street of mirth, for the crowd is too dense. Your 'rickshaw man leaves his carriage at the head of the street and guides you through the bewildering mass of lights and pictures until your soul is satisfied. 257 258 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD This fine Japanese city is associated with one of the best jokes of the Westward Cruise. Among the passengers was the Girl Who Doesn't Give a Hang, and she was one of the best-informed people on the boat but she didn't keep the goods on display in the show-window. Just before reaching Yokohama, she wanted to know the difference between Buddhism and Shintoism in Japan. I (who knew very little about it) carefully explained. On docking at Yoko- hama, the boat was instantly covered with newspaper men. Most of them are exceptionally fine fellows, but some of them are merely persistent in their search for a story any kind of a story. One of them made life wretched for me in his efforts to get an interview from Col. Henry W. Savage, who was known to be aboard. In the midst of my effort to oblige him, I ran afoul of the Girl Who Doesn't Give a Hang. " Here is a story for you," I said, confidentially. 11 This young lady is prominently associated with busi- ness people in New York and she has shown great interest in Japanese religions, particularly Shintoism. Suppose you interview her." He was more than willing. I made the introduc- tion and then disappeared from mortal view, forget- ting both him and the interview. A week later we were all sitting down to dinner on the Cleveland in the harbour of Kobe. The Girl Who Doesn't Give a Hang was seated next to me. Enter the waiter with a message that two Japanese gentle- men outside wish to see her. She goes and returns with a worried look. The gentlemen have seen in a A JAPANESE CONEY ISLAND 259 Japanese paper a notice about the young lady's in- terest in Japanese religions. They have come down to Kobe to see her and explain the faith of Tenrikyo a mixture of equal parts of Buddhism, Shintoism, Christian Science, and Nonsense. The young lady gasped for breath and evaded the issue by telling them to wait in the ship's sitting-room until she could see them. Then she came to me as the author of her predicament and insisted that it was up to me to get her out. Now what to do ? " Sit in the game, of course ! " was the answer. " Nothing embarrassing can happen to you here on your own boat. Let the fragrance of my pipe on the deck outside assure you that a bold cavalier will rescue you if they try to carry you away." When I promised to wait outside, I did not under- stand that the young lady was to sit for two hours in the conference, but that was what happened. About ten o'clock she came out and pulled me in. I was introduced to a Japanese priest and to an elusive per- sonality of European descent; introduced also to the object of the meeting. The headquarters of the Ten- rikyo sect was up-country, they explained. There was no temple nearer than Osaka, and to that place of worship was coming on the morrow a crowd of more than a hundred women to meet the American lady who was to become a convert. It was impor- tant, therefore, that the convert herself should be present. But the convert had cold perspiration trick- ling down her spine and refused to budge from the boat unless the originator of the plot would go along. 260 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD He went. The rendezvous was set for 9 A. M., and it was only a short run from Kobe. At the sta- tion both the young lady and her bodyguard decided to duck and get back to the boat but just then the two apostles of Tenrikyo seized us joyfully and loaded us into 'rickshaws. For an hour we drove through unfamiliar streets and landed at a simple temple. A priest in robes received us as personages of distinc- tion and escorted us within. There, lined up on their knees like a company of soldiers, were the members of the congregation. They touched their foreheads to the floor and greeted us with reverence. Next came the presentation to the High Priest a pleasant- faced young man with a wife even more agreeable. The conversazione was all too short from the Tenrikyo point of view but it had a spectacular close. On the steps outside we found a Japanese with a camera. It was explained that the honourable guests were to be photographed. We consented, on condition that the ceremony be brief and speedy. To our amazement, the whole congregation assembled on the steps. The High Priest and the Apostles placed the Americans in the centre of the first row and arranged themselves about us. And I have no doubt that, somewhere in that de- lectable land, there is on exhibition a large photograph, with the Americans as evidence of the success of the Apostles in securing important converts to the faith! If there isn't then I have not correctly sized up the personalities of the Two Apostles. XXXV BY THE CASTLE OF NAGOYA THIS is the only one of the large cities of Japan that is not covered by the Cleveland itinerary, but it is very easily reached by train. Instead of going from Kobe to Yokohama by boat (a voyage which is devoid of interest), one may have the fun of riding in a regular Japanese train, and stop off at Nagoya for a night. And, let me say in passing, those who go to Japan and miss the experience of riding second-class among the Japanese passengers miss a lot. For instance, the courtesy of Japanese railroad men. A porter enters the car to announce that the next station is Numadzu. He takes off his cap and makes a profound bow be- fore doing so. And then the Japanese wayside lunch. At one of the express stations about noon-time you see a group of vendors going about with little wooden boxes. You notice your Japanese fellow-passengers buying them, and soon discover that there is food on the inside. You buy one at a venture and find nothing inside except rice. Then you buy one that has a different set of characters on the label, and it turns out to be full of as many different kinds of food as may be found on an ordinary menu-card. Some 261 262 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD of it is good, and some is abominable. But all of it is pure fun. I landed at Nagoya in the rain, but no sunlight was needed to show that it is a fine modern city. Its chief point of interest is the Castle of Nagoya, a five- storied donjon of quaint architecture. Its spectacular feature is the pair of gold dolphins that surmount it and are visible all over the city. The scales of the dolphins are said to have been made from 18,000 old Japanese gold coins, having a value of about a million and a half dollars. Maybe so. But the most delightful experience of Nagoya cen- tres in the hotel. The Hotel Nagoya is a European hostelry but it has a Japanese annex, both being under the management of a Japanese gentleman and his cultivated wife. They know how to make the travel- ler comfortable and give him a visit to be remembered. The Japanese annex is a Japanese dream, and happy is the foreigner who chooses it instead of the Euro- pean department with its familiar furniture. And to sleep on Japanese mattresses, after a quaint native dinner, and hear the rain pattering on the roof and the wind rustling the screens ah! a world-cruise is not complete without a few experiences like that. The next morning you may resume your journey in either direction, for you have broken it as nearly as practicable in the middle. And the experience is so full of unalloyed pleasure that you are tempted to break it again somewhere. XXXVI THE WILES OF YOKOHAMA THE bazaar-keepers of Yokohama should be on the payroll of the U. S. Treasury Department, for they keep the cash-registers in the New York and San Francisco customs-houses playing a merry tune. The coming of the Cleveland is a great event in Yokohama; it brings out all the American flags that the town can scrape together, and it also brings out a double line of bowing distributors of printed matter a line that extends from the foot of the gang-plank to some unmeasured distance up the horizon. And when it is all over and the Cleveland has sailed away, do the bazaar-keepers get together and make merry as they describe their sales? Well, do they? But Yokohama is also an event to the passengers of the Cleveland. Suppose you did pay a lot more for that mandarin coat than you would have paid in San Francisco? You had the fun of buying it, after refusing it and having the bazaar-keeper chase you all the way to the boat. Besides, all that you had to pay on it over here were the customs-officer's charges ! And you, Sister, who paid thirty-five dollars too much for that pongee silk dress, you have had your money back several times since you got home, 263 264 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD as you have lorded it over the girl whose pongee was seen in Epstein's window. More good Cleveland money is spent in Yokohama, I suppose, than in any other port. The merchants are men of long experience in foreign trade; they know that the American woman doesn't want a Japanese kimono; she wants something gaudy that will make a streetful of people giddy every time she flashes it from the front porch and the Yokohama bazaar- keeper is very obliging about letting you have what you want, even when you don't want it. In Tokyo, where they have come to the high standard of depart- ment stores, you cannot buy what you want; for the Tokyo merchants stock up mainly for their Japanese patronage. If you see what you want in Yokohama, buy it ; but do not buy it on your first visit. Bargains in Japan become much cheaper with age, and the bottom drops out just as the ship is about to carry your pocket-book away. But no matter what you buy or how much you pay for it, it is bully good fun to shop here. But, just between you and me, I don't think much of Yokohama. It was a great disappointment to me when I first visited it, and since then I spend in the town only the time that is required for a 'rickshaw to go from the pier to that particular bazaar where you may buy a ticket for Tokyo. But a lot of other men do like Yokohama like it very much indeed. And when they get back on the boat, there are many mirthful sayings in the smoking salon. For instance, there is a place called " The Hun- THE WILES OF YOKOHAMA 265 dred Steps " and a famous tea-house is there. Its press-agent says that Commodore Perry was the first foreigner to stop there, and that he wrote a poem on a Japanese fan which shows that an American should be very careful in a tea-house when the tureen of hot saki comes around. I have seen several poems on the Cleveland that must have been composed at this tea-house. Now Yokohama is a sailors' town, and the Commodore is to be commended for living up to the traditions of sea-faring men on shore-leave. Really, though, the press-agent should have left out that other sentence " and tried to play some Japa- nese airs on a koto (harp)." If I mistake not, the Commodore has descendants, and they are entitled to consideration. But did you catch that about the narrow escape of General Grant, on his tour of the world? " When General Grant came to Japan, he came twice to the foot of the Hundred Steps, meaning to visit the tea-house, but was prevented both times from walking up the stairs by strong winds and rain. He sent his Secretary, Mr. Young, to the house to express his regrets." Let us congratulate Mr. Young and hope that he made the most of his opportunity. But would you have believed that a warrior accustomed to " fight it out on this line, if it takes all summer " would have let a little wind and rain turn him back from a tea- house that has only a hundred steps? Shopping for the ladies and high jinks for the men that is Yokohama. If you have no money for shop- 266 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD ping and no inclination for high jinks, you can be in Tokyo in half an hour. If you think that I am wrong in thus summing up this great Japanese port, you are respectfully referred to the Guide-Book issued by the Welcome Society of Japan. There you will find 79 lines devoted to Yokohama, subdivided in this way: Hotels, 8 lines; Yokohama in general, 6 lines; consulates, churches, etc., 6 lines; environs, 30 lines; principal shops, 29 lines. Oh, yes! This is the place where we got our medals. The Secretary of the Chamber of Commerce came down to the boat and made an oration. Perhaps he told us the truth about us, for it was in Japanese. Then Dr. Hough made a beautiful response, to which the Secretary listened with that intentness and gravity that becomes a man who hasn't the least idea what the other is saying. Then a basketful of medals was produced and the passengers fought over them. What were the medals for? No, Gladys, they were not Girdlers' medals, like that which the King of Spain gave Sebastian Del Cano on the first world- cruise. They had some hieroglyphics on them which I should translate in this free and easy fashion : " The merchants of Yokohama will take note that the Reuben who comes into your bazaar with this pinned on him is an American by the name of Easy Money. If you have any dead stock on hand, here is your chance. You can soak him to your heart's content, for he hasn't the least idea about values. His head is dizzy in this atmosphere and everything looks good to him. And if this medal approaches you with a shirtwaist back- ground oh, it's a shame to take the money ! But go ahead and take it. By order of the Yokohama Chamber of Commerce." XXXVII BEFORE BUDDHA AT KAMAKURA " Oh, ye who tread the Narrow Way By Tophet-flare to Judgment Day, Be gentle when the ' heathen ' pray To Buddha at Kamakura!" HE sits out in the open, with the sky for his temple roof and the outspreading branches of the trees for his walls. Twice the temples that were built to enclose him were wrenched from their foundations and piled in a heap; and in 1495 came a great tidal wave that swept everything except the Daibutsu into nothingness. Through it all, the crashing of the timbers and the lashing of the waves, Buddha sat tight, with the ends of his thumbs to- gether, as he sits to-day. And so he has sat in the grove near Kamakura for six and a half centuries, the finest image in a land of images and perhaps the finest large Buddha in the world. The dimensions ? Height, 49^2 ft. ; circumference, 97 ft. ; length of face, 8% ft. ; width from ear to ear, 19 ft., 9 inches ; round boss on forehead, i ft., 3J/2 inches ; length of eye, 4 ft. ; ear, &/ 2 ft. ; nose 3 ft., 9 inches ; mouth, 3 ft., 2 inches ; length from knee to knee, 35 ft., 8 inches ; circumference of thumb, 3 ft. There are 830 curls, each being i ft. in diameter and 10 inches high. 267 268 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Tell me, ye who to-day cast bronze images of horses and men and yet more terrible bronze artillery, was it not an achievement to have cast that Daibutsu 240 years before Columbus came over the sea? Men whose judgment I respect have called the Daibutsu " dull and stupid." But if the artist were called back from the place of the forgotten, he would doubtless reply that Buddha in contemplation is the ideal of absorption and self-effacement. It is somewhat gratifying to me to happen upon this passage from Lafcadio Hearn's " Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan " : "The gentleness, the dreamy passionlessness of those features are full of beauty and charm. And, contrary to all expecta- tion, the nearer you approach the giant Buddha, the greater this charm becomes. You look up into the solemnly beautiful face into the half-closed eyes that seem to watch you through their eyelids of bronze as gently as those of a child; and you feel that the image typifies all that is tender and calm in the Soul of the East." And do not forget, as you wander about the temples and other beautiful scenes about Kamakura, that this quaint little fishing village was once the capital of Japan from the twelfth to the fifteenth centuries. And wander you may, freely ; I have it on the author- ity of the Kaihin-in Hotel that " the grounds are protected from the invasion of demons by the Ni-O, India and Brahma who Keep guard at the outer gate." Which goes to show that often in this perilous world we pass in security through great dangers without realizing to whom we are indebted! XXXVIII IN THE CITY OF THE MIKADO NO, Sir Frederick. I cannot agree that " Civili- zation fell upon the gracious city like a dis- figuring disease." I know that The Ginza is both straight and wide, and that it is flanked by mod- ern buildings; it has trolley-cars and telephone wires and department stores; but all of these disfigurements are amazingly convenient to the traveller at times. Did you object also to the fire in your room at the hotel? But you would have made much more ado if there had been only the little charcoal brazier of the old Yedo days. I call up the memory of every impression that was distinct enough to leave a trace, and nine out of ten of them are thoroughly Japanese. One of the reasons why Tokyo means so much to me is traceable, to the fact that I was an inconspicuous traveller, having no relations with the official life. Generally alone, often on foot, and frequently at night, I occupied myself mostly with the everyday human life of the streets and the shops of Tokyo, noting its shadows as well as its high-lights. And it is to the city of the Mikado that I am indebted for much of what little insight into the Japanese character that I, as a transient visitor, may have. 269 270 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Like some unfamiliar perfume that lingers in the nostrils comes to me the memory of Japan's courtesy to the stranger within its gates. Oh yes, I know that much of it is formal and insincere, and that some of it is the welcome of the spider to the fly. Even so, there is no land that I know of anywhere around this old globe where a traveller may be fleeced so painlessly and with such delicate courtesy. But note, if you will, that deferential manners are not a monopoly of the shopkeeper. The grinning coolie, who hitched himself up and pulled me along the streets of Tokyo, could not have been more gracious if he had been hauling the Prince of Wales. Any sort of gruffness or rude- ness on the part of a Japanese is to me absolutely un- thinkable; it came as a shock if it ever came at all even from a native reeling home on a holiday night after too much dallying with the saki bowl. Surely this characteristic of Tokyo is not one of the modern symptoms of " a disfiguring disease." There also I had impressed upon me the Japanese gentleness toward children. Once, I believe, in all Japan, I saw a mother smack a child's face. But again and again, in driving through those miles of narrow streets that are as they were in days of old, my 'rick- shaw man stopped with a jerk (but without swear words) when a toddling baby or a playing youngster got himself in the middle of the way. The Tokyo right-of-way seems to be to the child and not to the vehicle ; it is the same consideration that the smoking steamer gives to the fishing smack that cannot always veer at the psychological moment. They carry this IN THE CITY OF THE MIKADO 271 consideration to an extreme and perpetuate a custom that allows the baby to be humoured and coddled far beyond the age at which Western children must scram- ble for themselves. A hard-working woman of the lower class will toil patiently with a husky, red-cheeked baby strapped to her back; and plenty of the boys and girls in Tokyo to-day are carrying brothers and sisters that are large enough to be in school. But let a " kid " land in front of a huckster or a motor-car in the mod- ern city in which I live, and see what happens ! And then, did you not notice, all over the native streets of Tokyo and elsewhere, the little sprays of blossoms in the shops and homes? And if the little establishment were unable to procure a flower of some kind, there was a variegated vegetable of some de- scription! It is not particularly significant that the Japanese should love their wonderful cherry-blossoms, their gorgeous chrysanthemums, and their stately cryptomerias ; there is no nation with a soul so dead that it could not appreciate these. But see how even the coolie loves the little dwarf-pine in his flower pot, or the little plum-branch that has only a few pink buds. And as you wander about the empire, stopping in Japanese inns, you may sometimes find a piece of furniture miss- ing, or the charcoal supply may be scant but the vase that holds a spray of buds or a single flower is always standing in the corner beneath the kakemono panel. Exquisite and delicate taste comes to the surface in this love for flowers and other growing things and it is inbred in the heart of the Japanese. That is one reason why the little farms of the empire are so charm- 272 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD ing ; every plant in it has a personality. Compare with this the attitude of the Hindu, even toward animals which, in his philosophy, are also fellow-men of some previous existence. In Tokyo also, if you will spend most of your time in the streets where Tokyo lives, you cannot fail to be impressed with the industry of Japan. Everybody works, and works hard women and children as well as men. At times it is pitiful, and yet it is heartening to see the patient toil of this remarkable people. An aged woman with a staggering load on her bent back has walked all the way into Tokyo from some out- lying precinct, but her weather-beaten face bears a look of patient resignation. And do you not remember the cheery faces that shone through the grime of coal- dust on the rope-ladders at Nagasaki? And amid the clouds of coal-dust there at the coal- ing of the ship you saw Japanese who were not clean. But where else did you see that phenomenon? In what other land that you have traversed would you be reckless enough to sleep and eat in a native inn? It is recorded in an official report at Honolulu that one of the difficulties about Japanese labour on the sugar- plantations in Hawaii arises from the lack of running water for that is one of the absolute necessities of life to a Japanese, wherever he is. An American lady, resident in Tokyo, who is herself a model when it comes to housekeeping, told me, with much amusement, of her experience with the sanitary officials of the capi- tal city. At stated times a government inspector calls at her tidy home and gravely serves her with a notice MR. AISAKU HAYASHI, OF THE IMPERIAL IN THE CITY OF THE MIKADO 273 that she must " clean house " by a given date. On that date he returns and gravely (though with much cour- tesy) discharges his duty one feature of which is the lifting of the mats to see if there be dust collected underneath ! Now, what would you say, Aunt Susan, if a constable were to come to your castle and tell you that he wanted to look under the rug in the back parlour ? A city of indefatigable toil; one that is clean and beautifully neat; one that cultivates the grace of cour- tesy and nurtures the love of flowers and of children and of parents surely the blight of modernity has not settled upon Tokyo to such a regrettable extent as some may think. In Tokyo, as in Bombay, much of the traveller's life centres in the hotel. At Yokohama, you remem- ber, everything was modern at the Grand; it was as un-Japanese as the Tremont in Boston. But at the Imperial in Tokyo, you did not have to pinch yourself to be sure that you were in Japan. The obliging young gentlemen behind the desk were all watermarked with the latest date of modernity, but the man who was their lord of high decision went softly about the place in the garb of a Samurai gentleman. And can you ever forget the winning graciousness of the matron, whose whole attitude was one of the profoundest and most natural courtesy? And surely she has the sweetest voice that the Creator of women ever bestowed upon her sex. You who go to Tokyo later, ask somebody to intro- duce you to Mr. Hayashi, the manager of this hotel, 274 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD if you want to meet one of the finest gentlemen in Japan from a traveller's viewpoint. And from an American viewpoint, he is even more interesting, for he was once a Northfield student one of Mr. Moody's men. He might be as modern as your latest matinee- idol if he chose, but he doesn't choose. The remem- brance of this fine type of the national character is as strongly with me to-day as the recollection of the pink cherry-tree in the dining-room and the fragrant after- noon tea that the little butterfly maidens served in the lobby with such exquisite courtesy. Go, if you will, to Shiba and Ueno Parks; pass the evening in the hotel lobby or in the fine Japanese theatres; or celebrate the joy of your visit to Japan by a merry-making at the Maple Club or other less cele- brated tea-house. My soul yearns only for the long 'rickshaw rides through the endless, winding streets, all ablaze with Japanese lanterns decorated with hiero- glyphics, and along which race the temple-boys with their jingle of bells. And do you not still hear the hoarse gutturals of the 'rickshaw men as they trot through the crowded lanes, and the clacking of the wooden shoes on the pavements? And if you thus dis- sipated in Tokyo on a moonlight night in winter, or with your coolie splashing through the cold rain that beat in your face, surely the gods were gracious unto you! Of the much that is in my heart to say of Tokyo, one significant fact may have glided past you in the whirl of things. It has not been long since the great Russian war, and the empire is full of wounded and maimed IN THE CITY OF THE MIKADO 275 soldiers. But where were they? A cripple in the streets of Tokyo is as rare as an albino. And did you see ex-soldiers going around in army uniforms and wearing G.A.R. badges? The only wreckage of war that I found was in the Naval Museum. But there is a wreckage in Tokyo that I did see and so did you, Eunice, for I met you going as I was coming. In the two Yoshiwara districts on the out- skirts of the city, each of which seems to be larger than the other, is the most amazing spectacle of woman- hood that the world has on public exhibition. It may be seen by the traveller without embarrassment or loss of self-respect, for it is open to the highway and may be viewed from a passing 'rickshaw. It is a vision that makes the heart ache one moment, and which then dazzles the eye in a moment of forgetfulness. You may ride for an hour in either of these districts and still not have passed all of the show-windows and their pathetic exhibits. But when you have seen half a dozen houses, you have seen everything except the extent. This is what it is like. House No. I has a show- window whose floor is about on a level with your shoulders. It is about twelve feet long and ten feet deep, with grating instead of glass on the street side. The floor of this window is covered with matting and there are charcoal braziers glowing within. Ranged on the floor at the farther side of the little room are the Yoshiwara girls from six to fifteen of them. They are all dressed alike and in the gorgeous cos- tumes of the coloured Japanese postcards. Sometimes 276 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD they are smiling and chatting, but generally they are like plaster images of Japanese beauty. It is a rare exception that one is pert or in the least offensive. Half of them are smoking tiny pipes, and these are passed through the grating to you if you stop on the sidewalk. Most of them seem to be between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two and one wonders what happens to those who pass the age-limit. Pass to the next window it is the same spectacle, except that the colour-scheme is different. In a block of twenty houses, there will be perhaps fifteen different blazes of colour, but all the girls in each window are cos- tumed alike. And the costume is that of the ordinary Japanese geisha ; there is not the remotest suggestion of immodesty about costume or manners. To drive down one of the longer streets (which are wide) with all of these windows brilliantly lighted and displaying to the fullest advantage the gorgeous costumes of the poor little women behind the bars that is a spectacle that is not to be seen in any other part of the world, and one that can never be banished from the mind. But it is a spectacle pathetic beyond the reach of words. A JAPANESE INN XXXIX FUN IN A JAPANESE INN NOW take hold of a chair and steady yourself, Eunice, while I give you a great shock. You have read plenty of books about Japan and you know in advance that every hotel experience in- cludes a bath, one or more curious and persistent maid- servants, and a blushing traveller who has exhausted all his ingenuity in vainly trying to shoo them away. Now I have spent many nights in Japanese hotels, from Nikko to Osaka ; and I have taken baths when I didn't want them in order to see what would happen. And now prepare to be shocked. In not a single instance has a Japanese girl ever offered to give me a bath or remained on the horizon as a spectator. Now, it happens that the only Japanese women whom I know intimately are little hotel maids. Listen, therefore, to an impression of Japanese womanhood that is based mainly upon this experience : Unattractive to Western eyes except when " made up," with an un- lovely mouth, little slits of eyes, and a most ungainly walk, deep down in her soul she is the cleanest, purest, truest, noblest of all the products of Japan. Now that the worst is over, let us have a little story. Do you remember those little eddies in the promen- 277 278 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD ade deck just back of the smoking-room, the little Stag Parlour where the Pipe Brigade threshed out all the great problems of human interest? Then you may recall " The Geyser," a name given to him as a fitting tribute to a loquacity that spurted forth from a sub- terranean reservoir whose high pressure never dimin- ished. He could always be relied upon to spring blithely into any conversation on any subject beneath or beyond the stars. One day in the China Sea the pow-wow took a sociological turn and veered off in the direction of the eternal feminine. The Geyser had just read his third book about Japan, and he had his mind made up about the Japanese woman. He explained to the Bunch that he expected to see Japan only once in a lifetime and he wanted all the unique experiences that were coming to him. He outlined his programme with some detail. Then came Nagasaki, like the awakening from a narcotic sleep. The Japanese girls who clambered up the sides of the ship were not of the fragile, cloisonne type that he was looking for ; they were muscular and dumpy and covered with grime. They were a cheerful little crowd, passing baskets of coal along like volun- teer firemen at a village fire cheerful although they worked barehanded and barefooted in the chill of a cold, drizzling rain. Brave and smiling and uncom- plaining within the confines of a restricted life, they were the redeeming feature of that dreary landscape. But even the most charitable passenger could not say that they were good-looking. There remained the possibility that they might be FUN IN A JAPANESE INN 279 delightfully naive. He then went in due course to one of the European hotels in a distinctly Japanese city, and made up his mind to accept the personal attention of his femme-de-chambre as nonchalantly as if ac- customed to it all his life. But he found, to his amaze- ment, that his femme-de-chambre was a boy. Then, with a firm hand, he pressed the button and ordered a bath fully determined not to show traces of embar- rassment when the girl came to lead him to it. But history records the amazing fact that he made his en- trance to and exit from the bath without hearing the sound of a feminine voice. The bath was cleansing and exhilarating, but it was certainly not embarrassing. Some days later, in Tokyo and Yokohama, he made a circuit of the districts where the Japanese girl sits with that look of stolid despair that comes into the features of a girl who has passed over a bridge into a wretched land, and to whom it is not permitted to retrace her steps. Then, when all were again aboard and the Pipe Brigade was lined up, the Geyser ex- hausted three pipefuls of tobacco in his remarks about Japanese womanhood. The others contributed their mites of experience and everybody reached the same conclusion, which never happened before. And the conclusion was that Japanese womanhood is by far the most hopeful thing in the empire, and that the little brown mother is worth more to it than all the Elder Statesmen and their descendants. Now, let us call a 'rickshaw and go to our Japanese inn. The management of the Imperial has engaged 280 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD accommodations and carefully explained that the food and the bed will be Japanese, and that there is no one in the hotel who understands a word of English. I knew only six words of Japanese, but why worry over what you don't know ? The 'rickshaw stops in front of a gateway that looks like that of a private house, and the driver insists that this is the Okamoto. Through the gate we go and land in front of a doorway. Out come two Japanese men in sombre kimonos, like monks with hands folded in prayer. There is much bowing and some conver- sationing and no little grinning on my part. One of the men claps his hands and two girls appear on the scene ; I am invited to sit down on the steps while one of them removes my shoes and slips on the slippers; and No. 2. vanishes with my suitcase. Everybody is giggling except the grave manager and the guest, who merely grins. With a parting look at my shoes, I obey the signal to follow the leader, and the little maid trots up a flight of stairs and winds around corners until I have lost all sense of direction. Then a panel is slid back and I am bowed into an ante-room ; another panel, and I am in a room about twelve feet square. It is just like a play-house. The floor is covered with beautiful mats and the walls are of beautiful strips of wood held together with rice-paper. (I wonder if any wicked Japanese boy ever tried to see how many rooms he could throw one rock through!) One side of the room has a narrow platform raised about six inches from the floor. One end of the platform is FUN IN A JAPANESE INN 281 occupied by a dainty cabinet that is the Japanese idea of a chiffonier. At the other corner is a vase in which is a single branch of the plum-tree, with tiny buds showing. Above this is a simple painting hanging on the wall the ever-present kakemono. Now for the furniture. On the side next the plat- form, facing the entrance, was a blue sofa-cushion; in front of it was a brazier of wood and brass, with glowing charcoal. To the right of the cushion was an unknown object, which turned out to be an elbow-rest ; on the left was a writing-table, with legs about eight inches high. It was beautifully lacquered and held writing materials, cigarette-case, and ash receptacle. If there was anything else in the room, I have for- gotten it. I noted with considerable interest that there was no sign of a bed. The little Youmie, incessantly bowing and grinning until her eyelids closed nearly as tightly as an oyster, showed me that the blue cushion was a chair, and I obediently folded up my legs and occupied it. Then she bowed until her forehead touched the floor and slipped noiselessly out. I toasted my fingers over the charcoal and waited for the next act. Five minutes later came Tay-ee (I spell the names like they are pronounced) with a pot of tea and some little cakes. Tay-ee is a show all by herself, being amazingly clever in the art of talking when your tongue is useless. Down she goes on her knees, the brazier being between us, and pours out the tea in a tiny cup somewhat larger than a thimble. I drink six or eight cups and have the time of my life with the sign-language. When weary 282 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD of the muscular act of swallowing tea, Tay-ee picks up the tray, bows to me as though I were the great Buddha himself, and vanishes. I reach around and pat myself on the back and call it a bully show. Shortly after Tay-ee has exited, Youmie makes an- other entree. She insists upon talking Japanese even while she makes pictures in the air. Am I ready to eat? That seems to be the idea. Oh, certainly not. I must have my furo first. Furo was one of my six words and means bath. Another low bow and again I am alone in the world. More- over, I stay alone for quite a while. Then the panel slides noiselessly and Youmie comes to say that the furo is ready. I get up and straighten out the kinks in my legs and start, but Youmie halts me. She slides back another little panel and reveals a wardrobe; out comes a beautiful silk kimono, padded; out comes an- other, neatly washed and ironed. No. 2 is slipped deftly inside No. I, and the little lady makes signs that I am to get into them. (Think of a hotel that fur- nishes the nightie!) Moreover it became apparent, from the moment I removed my coat, that Youmie would be among those present while the transforma- tion was being made. Do you remember how cleverly those Hindu women at the bathing ghats got out of one set of clothing and into another without the least immodesty? I cannot think it all out now, but Youmie got me out of one set of clothes and into that double kimono in some such fashion. And, to my amazement, the clothes that I took off were thrown on the floor in a pile, like rub- SAYONARA SINCE IT MUST BE SO!" A DE-LUXE ROOM IN A JAPANESE INN FUN IN A JAPANESE INN 283 bish. (But when I came to look for them an hour later, every rag was folded and smoothed and tucked away in the wardrobe. Even my socks were folded up like a silk handkerchief. Incidentally, everything in the pockets was taken out and placed in a tray!) In my new role as a Japanese gentleman, Youmie and I set out for the bath. It seemed to be down the street somewhere, for we walked around the corri- dors of that hotel until I was bewildered. We stopped at last and she slid back a panel ; it opened into a ves- tibule, and she bowed me inside. Then she followed. Things were certainly developing along the lines laid down in the travel books! She slid back another panel and I beheld a bath- room. Then she called out something that sounded like " Hockensockie," and a panel on the other side slipped back. Through the opening came a grinning face, fol- lowed by the muscular body of a man clad only in a loin-cloth. Youmie bowed most profoundly and van- ished; the athlete bowed most profoundly and bade me enter. I slipped off the kimonos and obeyed. And, oh, the joy of that Japanese furo! .It was served in a room about eight feet square, with a floor of soft wood. In one corner was a wooden tub, rect- angular. Near it was an ordinary faucet. Hocken- sockie seized a little stool, that had legs six inches high, and placed it in the centre of the room. Then he scooped up a pail of hot water and dashed it over the stool. Then the shivering guest, upon whose arms the goose-pimples were popping up like corn in a popper, was invited to sit on it. Then pail after pail of very 284. TWICE AROUND THE WORLD warm water was poured over my shoulders. You can- not appreciate how good that feels unless you try it in a cold room on a chilly day. Now, with grins and bows, he motioned that I should get into the tub. I obeyed with alacrity, stepping in with the dignity of a Roman Senator, and quickly springing out with- out any dignity at all. You could have boiled an egg in that water. Hockensockie looked surprised and began to draw cold water at the faucet and pour it into the tub. When he got enough in, I followed and found the tub just deep enough to bring the water to my chin when I sat down. And there I sat and became most delightfully warm as I waited for an in- vitation to come out, and as Hockensockie waited for me to show an inclination to emerge. Back on the stool again, and more water over my shoulders. Then came the soap, rubbed all over me, followed by a vigorous scrubbing with a stiff brush. Then I was invited into the tub again. When I emerged the second time, I again sat on the stool and was soused with hot water. After this came soft wooden sticks for manicuring, and a new wooden tooth-brush, with tooth-powder in a small sealed package. Then I was ready for the towelling, and then back into the kimonos, feeling like a king. But it was up to Hockensockie to get me home again. Now that is the Japanese bath essentially the same in every hotel that I know of. Just what happens when a foreign lady wants a furo I can only guess. And the guessing gives me some amusement. Tay-ee got herself lost in the shuffle at this stage FUN IN A JAPANESE INN 285 of the game, and I was served at dinner by Noomie. And that dinner was a picnic that lasted for two hours, with Youmie and Noomie both on the job, and with two others who now and then stole away from duty in order to slip in and see the show. I had all the assortment of Japanese food, each item in a dainty dish, and then I had giunabe. I do not know exactly what giunabe means in Japanese, but to the traveller it means " a life-saver." It is one of the most delicious ways of serving steak that I know of. Cut up in little slices, it is brought into your room (there is no public dining-room in Japanese inns) and cooked before your eyes in a sort of chafing-dish. An active girl can cook it as fast as you eat. On my way to the hotel I had stopped at a book- store and bought a Japanese dictionary to help me through the night, but when I opened it in my room I found to my dismay that it was Japanese-English throughout. I was, therefore, unable to point out an English word and let the girls read the answer. The two hours of hilarious conversation were, therefore, lop-sided ; the maidens had to find the word and let me read the answer. But it was a bushel of fun. When bedtime came it came when I made the sig- nal of lying down with closed eyes Youmie and Noomie made the bed. Layer after layer of padded comforts came out of the mysterious wardrobe and were stacked up on the floor. Then followed some- thing that looked like a quilt, and on top of this was an enormous padded kimono that would have enclosed a giant. This was evidently not intended to be worn, 286 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD for it was placed on top of everything. There were no sheets and no pillows, but Youmie brought in some- thing that looked like a rolling-pin wrapped in towels, and this was placed where a pillow belongs. Being already arrayed in my costume-de-nuit, there was noth- ing to do except crawl in. This I did, and they tucked me in as solicitously as a mother would do. Then they bowed most profoundly and I suppose went downstairs and yelled for an hour over all the funny things that the honourable foreigner had done. Next morning I was awakened by the sliding of doors and a flood of light. I thought the front of the house was falling out, but it was only the outside shut- ters disappearing, letting the bright sunlight stream through the opaque paper walls of the inner shell. The performances of the night before were repeated in in- verse order; the foreigner requested his bill; and the hour of parting came. With elaborate ceremony on the part of all concerned, my shoes were replaced at the outer door, and I drove away with all the little maids on their knees in the doorway, knocking their foreheads on the floor. And when I looked at the little heads on the mat- ting as I left the Okamoto for the last time, I felt a good deal like a man feels when he is leaving his sis- ters for a long absence. Dear, gentle, fun-loving little women how very different you are from what the Western world thinks you to be ! Sayonara since it must be so! THE YELLOW MAN ALSO HAS A BURDEN XL AT THE TOMB OF THE SHOGUNS A 3D now that we have come to the sorrowful mo- ment when we must take leave of Japan, let it be at Nikko, the sublimest of all the spots cov- ered by our Japanese itinerary. And the go-mile ride from Tokyo is a delightful experience, especially to those who do not cross Japan. Sixty-five miles from Tokyo, something happens that is not on the programme. The train makes a stop at an important station called Utsunomiya, and here is a grammar school where boys and girls are learning English, among other useful things. The Professor suggested that a good place to practise it would be the station, while the Americans were halted. And here they were, filling the whole platform, with bright lanterns and bright faces, yelling like rioters. As soon as the train began to slow down the conversationing began and such English was never heard, even at a Weber & Fields performance! Every boy and girl had name and address written on a stack of cards, and these were freely distributed with requests for corre- spondence. And every one that caught your eye asked for your name-card. Doubtless some very amusing correspondence has resulted from that clandestine ac- 287 288 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD quaintance. One of the letters is herewith reproduced in facsimile in order to show what really good work is being done in the Japanese public schools. The Clevelanders reach Nikko in sections to prevent overcrowding. My own arrival was on a rainy night and the 'rickshaw ride up the long street to the hotel was an astonishing spectacle. The whole town was lined up with waving lanterns, cheering us and wel- coming us in English and Japanese. It was more like a triumphal procession than a globe-trot. And the night spent in the quaint hotel there in the moun- tains, with the sound of rushing water far below, is not an experience easily forgotten. Now it must suffice to say that the temples of Nikko are the finest in Japan. They represent high-water mark in wood-carving and in gorgeous decoration. There are a number of them, and even after seeing the temples of Kyoto they seemed marvellously beautiful. And there is certainly nothing in Japan that ap- proaches the beauty of the interior decorations. They are indescribable. Even when seen in the sombre garb of winter, with- out the glory of the cherry-tree of Japan, and long after the gorgeous colours of the maple groves has faded, Nikko is a dream of picturesque beauty. It is a place of lofty cryptomerias, of picturesque pines, and of that wonderful mist that you sometimes see in Japanese art. I know not if great epics have been composed here in this dreamy place, but it is unques- tionably made for communion with the gods. The greatest of the Shoguns leyasu, whom many think to 290 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD be the greatest leader Japan ever produced chose the hillside opposite Nikko as a burial-place, and there he sleeps in lonely grandeur, amid surroundings more stately than the hand of man could have made. And hither also, in due time, was borne his famous grand- son, lemitsu. It is, therefore, a place that means much to the Japanese, aside from its great natural beauty. After you have lingered about the beautiful temple gates, you are escorted up the steep hill through mag- nificent gates, to the resting-place of the First Toku- gawa Shogun. It is a long climb up the two hundred stone steps that ascend by a series of terraces, and it climbs through a forest that is nothing short of sub- lime. I made the ascent on one of the dreariest days imaginable, with the wind sighing a requiem in the tops of the conifers and the stream at the foot of the hill answering back to remind me that life still rushes madly on. At the top you come again to the workman- ship of great artisans, and pass on to the tomb of the founder of a great dynasty one that survived until 1867. " Here then, alone, on this wind-blown height, among the sturdy boulders and the murmuring pines, rests the man who is said to have been the greatest ruler of Japan." And no less picturesque is the burial- place of his grandson, not far distant. And as the remembrance of the cryptomeria avenue veiled in mist comes back now, it makes the pain of parting with Japan seem like one of life's calamities. MERIDIAN 180 XLI HIGH JINKS ON HIGH SEAS SAILING from Yokohama, you go serenely along that is, as serenely as the restless Pacific will allow until you reach a certain Saturday. You go to bed Saturday night as usual, or perhaps a little earlier than you go at home. Nothing unusual occurs to you during the night, but when you wake up it is Saturday morning ! Two Saturdays in one week and the " ghost " who walks with the pay envelope every Saturday is far across the sea ! Or, sailing from Honolulu, you go down to church service on Sunday night, as you do not do at home. Then you come up and smoke and then make for the sheets. Sunday night's sleep is as calm as ever, but when you wake it is Tuesday morning! Monday is " Monday what ain't." And it is a lucky day for you, sister, if Monday happened to be your birthday. You have one less to count. It is obvious that such a phenomenon as this deserves to be appropriately celebrated. We may set our watches forward or backward twenty-odd minutes a day with- out comment, but when it comes to setting the almanac that is an occasion for high jinks. And we had them, on both cruises. Since they were essentially the 291 292 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD same on both, let us take the last ; the events are more vivid in remembrance. The Chief Officer is the Master of Ceremonies, and the man who does most of the work. About a week before, he selects a committee to circulate among the passengers and prepare them for the momentous occa- sion. In this case, the committee of arrangement is a brilliant galaxy, to-wit : The chairman is a well-known manufacturer of yeast that rises mightily, and also a man prominent in political circles Mr. Julius Fleisch- mann, of Cincinnati. With him is most appropriately associated the man who makes the flour that the yeast makes to rise Mr. Charles S. Pillsbury, of Minne- apolis. Then come two of the best " mixers " on the boat Mr. Charles Sheldon and Mr. E. D. Brooks, also of Minnesota. No. 5 is the German lecturer Dr. L. Mecking, of Gottingen University. And the sixth is a great author meaning me. We have nothing to do except hustle around and get people to do it. We let George meaning Officer Kruse do all the hard work of setting the stage and fishing out the properties. First comes the old-fashioned potato-race, which is for ladies only. Inasmuch as there are 27 entries, this is run in relays. Six potatoes of the common Irish variety are placed at 5-foot intervals from the starting line. All that the lady has to do is to pick up each with a sharp stick, rush madly to the pail, deposit it, and run for another. The one who gets all the po- tatoes out of sight first is the winner. Then the win- ner of each relay is lined up and the final heat is pulled HIGH JINKS ON HIGH SEAS 293 off. Washington, D.C., gets the ribbon, and the prize that goes with it. Meanwhile the audience gets all the fun that is coming to it. Next, we thread the needle. There are forty ap- plicants for honours here, but this means twenty cou- ples. The gentlemen stand at the starting line with the thread in hand; the ladies are at the finish. When the signal is given, the gentlemen rush to the ladies, thread the needle, and both run for the starting-point. A beautiful New York girl and the German lecturer walk off serenely with the honours. Now come 2.2. men for the individual tug-of-war. They sit down on the deck in pairs, facing each other, the soles of their feet together, and grasp a short stick. At the signal they pull like sixty, and the winner is he who gets the other on his feet. Then the winners must pull against one another until it is determined who is the strong-armed man of the squad. A popular man from St. Louis wins, and the audience howls its approval of the show. The megaphone now announces that the three- legged racers will line up. Eighteen young ladies re- spond. They are arranged in pairs, the right ankle of one lady being tied to the left ankle of her running mate. Violent dissension among the committeemen arose beforehand, each insisting that he was logically the official member to tie the ankles, but the chairman settled it by decreeing that he would do it himself. The three-leggers race across the arena to a tin pail, waltz around it, and race back. Minnesota and Illinois get the ribbon for exceeding the speed limit. 294 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Now comes the rooster-fight. Eight couples are enlisted, all being masculine gender. A broomstick is inserted under the knees of each man and the hands are clasped about the knees as he sits on the floor, and are securely bound. A large circle is drawn on the floor, and the problem is simply that of getting the other fellow out of the circle any way you can. This is where the audience has the time of its life, for it is not easy to keep your balance with somebody butting you over. And when you fall over on your side or back well, did you ever turn a bug on its back and watch it try to get up? The next is the egg and spoon race that was first executed on Noah's Ark. A popular Chicago lady walks off with the eggs and the prize. The wheelbarrow race is not so antique. It is a stag affair, with eight pairs participating. One half of the pair, standing on his feet, holds up the feet of the other half, standing on his hands. The signal is given and the race is on. Ohio and North Dakota get over the line first. Seven couples are now lined up for the thread and biscuit contest. A small cracker is tied in the middle of a small string about two yards long. One end of the string is inserted between the lady's teeth, her hands being folded behind her back, and the other end of the string is firmly grasped by the gentleman's teeth. The job is to eat up the string and touch the biscuit with your lips before your partner gets there. It is not required of the audience that it maintain an attitude of sobriety during this contest. When the chewing has TIIK WINNERS THREADING THE NEEDLE HAIR-DRESSING A SOLEMN CEREMONY! HIGH JINKS ON HIGH SEAS 295 subsided, the chairman announces that Pennsylvania and Ohio are the swiftest of the lip manipulators. Everybody now shifts to the other side of the boat, where a spar has been suspended just far enough above the deck to prevent the feet of a long-legged man from touching the floor as he sits astride it. Now it looks easy to sit on a spar, but maybe you never tried it. And maybe you never tried it with another fellow swatting you over the head with a pillow. Sixteen gen- tlemen straddle the rail in turn, with the winner of the previous heat sitting a few feet in front of him. One after the other they go toppling over, and the last man shows the smiling face of an Argentinian. Now comes the unique contest. A long board, very heavy and thick, is placed on a couple of carpen- ter's horses. To each of nineteen ladies is given a col- lection of nine large and practical nails, together with a hammer. She is encouraged in the belief that if she drives all the nails up to the head before anybody else does, she will be acclaimed to the world as the champion nail-driver of the Pacific. Such a clatter was never heard on shipboard as the ladies went at those nails; it was more like the racket of a bunch of drill-cutters or of a boiler- factory, for every contestant was scream- ing as she worked the hammer, and the audience was holding its sides while it roared. When the shouting and the tumult died, it was discovered that California had demonstrated her supremacy as a carpenter. Then came the star-performance, the dressing of the ladies' hair by gentlemen. Take the hair down, comb it out, and replace it in an artistic manner that's the 296 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD idea, but it must all be done within ten minutes. Three ladies assumed the delicate task of deciding which re- sult was most artistic and a young married couple from Nebraska did the winning. There was a great dinner that night, namely. ON BOARD S. S. "CLEVELAND' Antipodes Day, January 20, 1912 DINNER Sea-gull Soup, Girdlers Style Oriental and Occidental Broth with Sea-Stars Slices of Whale a la Greenwich Filet of Sea-cow a 1'Amphitrite Hawaii Cranes a la Neptune Fujiyama Snow Pacific Swallows in Noah's Ark Nereid Compot Sour sea-grass Sea-weed with codliver-oil Antipodes Cream Niceties of Undine's Garden Triton's Nectar Ship's Time on January 21, 6. a. m. will be advanced 20 Min. And it was followed by a lawn fete on the promenade deck, with lanterns and flags and other refreshments. HONOLULU XLII OUR MID-PACIFIC PARADISE FAR out in the middle of Balboa's restless ocean, 2,100 miles from the Golden Gate and 3,400 miles east of Yokohama, is the archipelago that Mark Twain considered " the loveliest fleet of islands that lies anchored in any ocean." All alone in that vast expanse of trackless water, they have for more than a century been the cross-roads house of the weather- beaten sails and smoking funnels of every nation whose men go down to the sea in ships. And now, when the outposts of American empire have been moved 7,000 miles to the westward, this peaceful Hawaiian shore is strategically the most im- portant spot in the western seas. And this is no secret at Washington. On the barren volcanic heights of Diamond Head, which sentinels the present harbour of Honolulu, is entrenched the most powerful mortar battery under our flag. It can say no to any hostile fleet that may wish to refill its coal-bunkers prepara- tory to an attack on the Pacific Coast and did you ever stop to reflect that such a fleet must also have coal enough to get back home in the event that the attack should fail? Besides, landlocked within the 5,000 acres of deep water in the new Pearl Harbour nearby, plenty of American dreadnoughts can lie at 297 298 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD peaceful anchorage until there comes the fateful mo- ment to rush forth and strike. However, it is Honolulu as a mid-Pacific paradise and not as an impregnable Gibraltar that most con- cerns the sea-going traveller. To the globe-trotter who starts from San Francisco, Honolulu is the first of many strange ports, for it is here that the East and the West have come together. It is thoroughly American in its spirit and its institutions ; yet it is also Japanese, Chinese, Portuguese, and Hawaiian in its population. The modest little mother from Kobe, with a fat, red-cheeked baby bandaged to her back, trudges along behind a slender little lady in pajamas who was born on a sampan in the Canton River. At yonder street corner, waiting for the trolley-car, is a group of Hawaiian and half-Hawaiian girls on their home- ward way from an American college, and they look so much like Creoles that one may easily imagine himself in New Orleans. And if you stand by the gateway of a primary school and watch the youngsters as they scamper out, you may easily pick out the faces of Coreans, Filipinos, Spaniards, Porto Ricans, Scandi- navians, Germans, and other peoples who have been cast up by the tide of circumstance and are already coming into the heritage of American citizenship. You may see as many as sixteen distinct nationalities in one American school. We know that the Garden of Eden was not situated at " the Cross-Roads of the Pacific," but that would not have been a bad site. Any one who strolls through Kapiolani Park or drives over Mr. Damon's beautiful OUR MID-PACIFIC PARADISE 299 estate of Moanalua will not find it difficult to picture the seductiveness of man's first earthly paradise. More tropical in foliage and more continuously beautiful in flower than Madeira, Honolulu knows nothing of the discomforts of tropical summers nor has it ever a cold day. You may roll in the surf of Waikiki Beach on the Fourth of July without blistering, or on Christ- mas Day without shivering. Its temperature stands in the vicinity of 70 the year round, and the trade- winds bring the breezes and enthusiasm of spring throughout all the changing seasons of the home- land. And so it matters little whether you sail into the harbour of this seductive land in December or in May. The sun will be shining and the palms waving in the breeze; the bluejackets who line the rail of some idle member of the Pacific Squadron will be in spotless white; the Americans who meet you at the dock will be wearing straw hats instead of sun-helmets; and a Kanaka girl will be waiting to hang a wreath of real flowers about your neck, in keeping with the fine traditions of this hospitable race. You drive along beautiful avenues that are lined with royal palms festooned with vines, and you catch enchanting visions of villas and bungalows that are half-screened in purple wistaria or scarlet and magenta bougainvillea. The spacious yard may be enclosed with a hedge of ever-blooming hibiscus, or there may be a stone wall overhung with night-blooming cereus. Go from Moanalua to Diamond Head, climb up to the Punchbowl and Tantalus and Pali; then return for a 300 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD dip in the surf of Waikiki, where the Kanakas ride the waves erect upon surf-boards, or where the whiter races play in the outrigger canoes and the feeling will creep over you that this is the ne plus ultra of the world's watering-places. One of the most pleasing facts about Honolulu is the heartiness of its welcome. It is of quite a different brand from that which was served at Manila. In Hono- lulu they do not look upon the traveller as wreckage washed up by the sea, nor as the lawful prey of land- sharks disguised as merchants and hotel-keepers and fellow-citizens. The difference between the welcome of the two American ports is due to the difference between the men who have been entrusted with the responsibility of delivering it. The machinery is similar, but oh, the difference in the men! A week out from Yokohama, the big Cleveland was shoving steadily ahead through a choppy sea that would have made an ordinary steamer hop about like an " Old Hickory " farm-wagon bumping over a road of loose cobblestones. From some cavern of the winds off the port side came an infant gale, testing its strength against the steel plates and making the promenade deck careen at times to such an extent that pedestrians had all the sensation of running down-hill. The Lady Chaser happened to be promenading with the Porch Lounger. At one of the turns they both came down the hill like Jack and Jill and brought up sharply against the rail where loafed the man with the Mis- souri Disposition. OUR MID-PACIFIC PARADISE 301 " What a perfectly dreadful roll ! " exclaimed the Lounger, gasping for breath. " There seems to be a list to starboard," said the Lady Chaser, who had been impressed with that phrase in one of the magazines. " I hope you do not mean that my weight had any- thing to do with it ! " " Oh, certainly not. It may be due to that coal we took on at Nagasaki." " Wrong again," said the Missourian. " Then what ? " asked the Chaser. " The list is due to the weight of the come-on litera- ture piled up in the Chief Steward's store-room." "Where'dhegetit?" " Hawaiian Promotion Committee." " What is that an examining board ? " " Not exactly," explained the loafer. " It is a crowd of Honolulu gentlemen selected because they have strong lungs. It is their job to yell about the glories of Hawaii, to yell so loudly that everybody afloat on the Pacific shall hear and then to not stop yelling." " I think I have heard of it before," said the Chaser. " Both before and behind," continued the Mis- sourian. " If you haven't, you better see an ear-doctor. They began the joyful chorus when we were away back yonder at Singapore, and the only intermissions since have been when they had to stop to refill their lungs. Didn't you hear the announcements at the close of the ball last night ? " "No. What were they?" " Wireless from the H.P.C. Welcome to Hono- 302 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD lulu ! Another wireless from ' Promotion ' Elks of Honolulu preparing a great feast for the antlered herd on the Cleveland. Another wireless Shriners on the Cleveland requested to wire number will accept hos- pitality of Honolulu shrine. Another How many tickets at opera-house shall we reserve for Cleveland party ? All this three days out at sea, mind you ! " But let us drop the rest of the conversation into the Pacific Ocean and skip along to Honolulu. As soon as the big world-cruiser had been sighted off Diamond Head, the members of the H.P.C. pulled one another out of bed and climbed into the fastest steam-launch in the harbour. Without waiting for the Health Officer to assure them that the Cleveland was not freighted with Asiatic cholera and beri-beri, a man named Wood and another named Jordan climbed over the ship's side like South Sea buccaneers and began to pin badges and buttons on every passenger caught standing still, at the same time stuffing his pockets with literature about the wonders of " the Paradise of the Pacific." Then came another H.P.C. launch loaded with Ha- waiian girls, each dusky beauty burdened with wreaths of flowers. In an incredibly short time these (the wreaths) were hanging about the necks of the passen- gers. Then the Royal Hawaiian Band broke loose. And there was a lot more to it. Among other divertisements, the H.P.C. engineered a Hawaiian musical at the opera-house, with reserved seats down front for gentlemen travelling alone. A glee club of young Hawaiian men sang native songs for an hour, and picked sundry tuneful selections from japP^ ^P^" . -- jBJj^p*W" ONOLrUL; OUR MID-PACIFIC PARADISE 303 the strings of guitars and infant guitars. Then came the real show the hula dance. To have visited Honolulu and come away without seeing the dance that has made the islands famous that would have been like going to Cairo and not see- ing the Pyramids. So reasoned the passengers; so also reasoned the H.P.C. But when the Committee of Joyful Yells let it be known in Honolulu that a hula was on the bill-of-fare, another crowd of strong- lungers let loose. They also are honourable men, but they were never schooled in the psychology of globe- trotting. It was their idea that the hula was misrep- resentative of the spirit of Hawaii and the Clevelanders ought not to see it. But the H.P.C. got out the map and said that any bunch of globe-trotters that had passed through the land of the hoochie-koochie, of the nautch, and of the geisha would not be endangered by a simple little thing like the hula. And there was also the scholarly treatise of Dr. Emerson, bearing the im- print of the United States Government, to prove that the hula is a religious performance. The spinal column of the H.P.C. became ankylosed and the dance re- mained on the programme. And was it so terribly wicked? The only criticism that I heard was that it was not wicked enough. And it surely was picturesque. A troop of about a dozen girls could be dimly seen on the darkened stage as the cur- tain went up, swaying and chanting to the beat of a couple of tom-toms. Little by little the light was turned on, as the gentlemen in front made signs of impatience, and then it could be seen that the girls 304 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD were young, dusky, good-looking, and full of the Old Harry. The dance was directed by Madame Puwahi, who had some connection with court life in the old Hawaiian days. Years have left their imprint upon her handsome and intelligent features, but the life is still in her blood, and the light is in her eyes. A so- ciety reporter would say that the dancers were " simply and attractively gowned." They wore short green skirts covered over with green fibre, and their brilliant-red waists were festooned with wreaths of yellow flowers. They also wore their own hair. Their feet and ankles were bare at least, that is the substance of an unpub- lished report made by the passengers in the front seats. Now, the hula differs from the nautch, the geisha, and all other dances of the East in this important par- ticular that the Hawaiian girl has her heart in her work. There is a good deal of the responsiveness of the Southern darkey in her soul, and when the music starts she becomes thoroughly alive. There is no list- lessness and artificiality about her. The dance is more like that of the Egyptian than anything else; but the Cairo dance is a solo, whereas this is a chorus. And instead of standing still and dancing without moving the feet, the hula girls circle about the stage and sway to the rhythm of the enchanting music. Not since the early days of the explorers, perhaps, has there been a more dramatic entree into Honolulu than that of the Cleveland on the Eastward Cruise. It was in the early morning, and five first-class cruisers of the Pacific Squadron were lying side by side near OUR MID-PACIFIC PARADISE 305 the pier. The world-cruiser swept majestically past them, and we had the inspiring vision of all those crews of bluejackets (white- jackets they really were) lined against the rails. There was just room enough for the Cleveland to swing in alongside the U.S.S. Colorado, but a swiftly rushing tide must first be crossed. The pilot (a veteran of Honolulu Harbour) was di- recting the ship, and it was making its final swing when one of those sudden tragedies of the sea took place. Just at the most critical moment, the pilot threw his hands up to his face, called incoherently to the Captain, and sank unconscious on the bridge. It was a moment that called for splendid seamanship to avert a serious calamity, for the Cleveland was bearing down upon the cruiser's stern. Leaving the dying pilot to the care of others, Captain Dempwolf instantly resumed command and backed his ship, barely scraping one of the cruiser's guns that happened to be sticking out of its port. Then he again started his engines and docked the big ship as easily as if he had been doing it every day for a year. And our departure on the next afternoon, as the sun was sinking low, could scarcely have been more dra- matic had it been especially staged. All Honolulu was at the pier, waving its cheerful " Aloha Oe," and the Hawaiian Band gave us its sweetest music as we slowly slid back from the pier. Then, as we started to pass the Colorado, with flags dipping on both sides, the Cleveland band struck up " The Star Spangled Banner." It was just finishing the National Hymn as we passed the U.S.S. West Virginia, and the flagship's band responded with " Should Auld Acquaintance Be 306 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD Forgot ? " In a few minutes we were steaming out- ward at full speed, with the sailors of every cruiser waving good-bye, and with the West Virginia's band now playing " There's No Place Like Home ! " Then a lone bugler from the army post, standing on a point by the water's edge, blew the beautiful call of the dying day " Retreat." Can you beat it? I should despair of attempting, in anything short of a book, to give a picture of this beautiful isle in the summer seas. It has called forth the superlative of praise from many pens, and two of them must serve the purpose of all that is not here written. The first is Honolulu as seen through a woman's eyes : " It is as if all the artists in all the world had spilled their colours over one spot, and nature had sorted them out at her own sweet will. I kept wondering if I had died and gone to heaven. Marvellous palms and tropical plants, all hanging in a softly dreaming silence that went to my head like wine." But the most beautiful tribute that ever has been or perhaps ever will be written came from Mark Twain : " No alien land in all the world has any deep, strong charm for me but that one; no other land could so longingly and beseech- ingly haunt me sleeping and waking, through more than half a lifetime, as that one has done. Other things leave me, but it abides ; other things change, but it remains the same. For me its balmy airs are always blowing, its summer seas flashing in the sun; the pulsing of its surf-beat is in my ear; I can see its garlanded crags, its leaping cascades, its plumy palms drowsing by the shore; its remote summits floating like islands above the cloud-rack. I can feel the spirit of its woodland solitudes ; I can hear the plash of its brooks ; in my nostrils still lives the breath of flowers that perished twenty years ago." XLIII "IF I HAD ONLY KNOWN!" THE log-book of the Cleveland records many, many things, but it has no tabulation to show the number of times that these words were uttered on a world-cruise uttered with infinite and hopeless regret. They will continue to fall from the lips of those who follow us around the great circle, continue in spite of all the excellent advice that is given by those who have sailed on all the seas. Still, it may be worth while now while the Eastward and the Westward cruisers are nearing the homeland, where they may refill their pocketbooks to emphasize one or two of the things that have been often said before. The most complete and satisfactory equipment for a world-cruise is not ordinarily mentioned in the guide- books. You may have your trunks and suitcases packed with every sort of clothing that you will need from Darjeeling to Buitenzorg; you may have plenty of money and have it in the most convenient form; you may have field-glasses and marine-glasses and smoked glasses and kodaks and guide-books; but if you do not start out with the right state of mind, you will be a great worry to yourself and others all the way around. Ship-life is not hotel-life, exactly. Why not recog- 307 308 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD nize that fact in advance and do a little grinning in- stead of scowling when things get topsy-turvey ? No- body's cabin exactly suits him, even if he has the $7,000 suite. All of us cannot have our steamer-chairs in the choicest place; every chair in the dining-room is to be occupied by some passenger, and it is a game of chance when you go down to get your number. The chances are, after all, that the place you get on deck or at the table will turn out to be a lot better than the one you wanted. So make up your mind at the outset not to be ruffled much, no matter what happens, and you will be amazed at the good time that you will have. After you get away from the Cleveland and think it all over particularly after you make a long cruise on some other ship you will reach the conclu- sion that the men who were running it, from officers to stewards, worked almighty hard and long to make things come out just about right. In my own personal experience, I have never seen a ship's crew worked harder than the Cleveland's four hundred, except on a freight-boat. It is not for me to say what clothes you should take on a world-cruise. No matter what you take or leave, you will find yourself saying, over and over, " If I had only known ! " Now, everybody knows what he or she wears in the hottest month of summer, and all the mishaps that befall summer clothes when travelling by boat and train. If you will remember that you have genuine summer all the way from Hong Kong to Cairo, you need not go far wrong in your calculations. You know also that it often becomes very cold at sea, IF I HAD ONLY KNOWN!" 309 and that no sensible person ever sets sail without some preparation for winter weather. Figure it all out for yourself; plan for comfort and forget about cutting a dash on the promenade deck, for that ambition will probably leave you after you get acquainted. Besides, do not get it into your head for a minute that the splash you make the first week out will help you far- ther on. Everybody who has travelled knows that the folks who trot to and fro in the limelight the first ten days are not the people who count. The greatest mistake that is made on the world- cruise, so far as clothing is concerned, arises from indifference to the practical subject of laundry. The operation of a steam laundry at sea is expensive and also productive of embarrassment because of necessary delay in deliveries. And if your experience with laun- dry work ashore in foreign ports should tally with mine, a very little of it will be more than enough. The laundry and the hot weather if you will keep these two headlines pasted on your mirror throughout the last month before you sail, you will make fewer mis- takes in packing your trunk. Be sure to take a camera with you. Yes, it is lots of trouble and some expense, but it is a world of satis- faction afterward to have photographs of the things that you really saw. The pictures that you buy, whether made by a professional ashore or by the ship pho- tographer, can never take the place of your own col- lection. Now bear this in mind: you will probably never circle the globe but once, and you ought to get the very best pictures that you can make. That means 310 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD that you have a camera with a good lens, one that will cut sharp, so that you may have enlargements made at your pleasure. Small films are all right, but very few people get abiding satisfaction out of a large collection of small prints. I have found this true even of the largest kodak (4^4 by 6^2 inches) and most regret- fully true of the smaller prints in my collection. It is not a matter of transcendental importance what particular camera or whose lens you take along, pro- vided both be good and provided, also, that you fully understand how to make good pictures with the appa- ratus. Most Americans go around with the $A Kodak, with the special lens; it has the advantage of being small and dainty and it does excellent work. But it will surprise you to find the number of people equipped with it who do not understand how to operate it. One word should be said about the Graflex, for there are always half a dozen passengers who want fine pic- tures and are willing to pay liberally for the camera. My own experience with this remarkable camera was most disappointing on the Eastward Cruise, and that experience tallied with the experience of nearly every other user of it. It was probably due to the fact that we did not know enough about its operation, but it is certainly a mistake to start out on a world-cruise with this outfit until you have mastered it. Get it weeks in advance, therefore, and be sure that you can do good work with it at home. The keenest photographic re- grets that I have are due to my failure to act upon the advice that I now pass along. I am not a professional, but I have made pictures "IF I HAD ONLY KNOWN!" 311 for years under many of the most unfavourable con- ditions that can confront the globe-trotter. On the world-cruise I used four or five different machines of different sizes, and I have the results before me. Every man to his own liking, but I have discarded every ap- paratus except the old 4 A Kodak that I used in Africa several years ago. It has a Zeiss-Tessar lens, of the F.6-3 variety, that has rust and iridescent streaks on it but most of the best pictures that I brought back were made with it. And, moreover, the film is large enough to show something, even when you take a crowd of pilgrims at the bathing ghats. I have served my term of years monkeying with cameras; the other fellow may do all that he wants in that direction. The next time you see me, I shall be making pictures with a 4A Kodak and I shall be making real pictures, too. Those that I brought back from the world-cruise may be full of imperfections, but I have not yet seen any collection that I could be persuaded to exchange with. Unless you are a professional, here is a caution that will be worth many dollars to you : Forget everything that you have ever read about the intensity of tropical light; go ahead and make pictures with the same ex- posure that you use at home in the summer-time, and have your films developed as you go along. Then, but not till then, you may shorten your exposure. Most of the failures on the world-cruise are due to under- exposure or lack of skill in developing. There will be opportunities for having your films developed aboard and on shore. A large percentage of them are spoiled by the action of the heat, for both 312 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD ice and water are precious on a ship. If you want to save every negative that you make, I can easily tell you the how. Do your own developing on the ship at night, using a little ice in the developer and a hardening solu- tion in the hypo. You can then wash the film in any sort of water without losing it. I followed the in- struction of the Eastman Kodak Co. in this respect, and never had a failure, even in the hottest tempera- tures. The following is a quotation from the letter that saved most of my best films : " An 8-ounce fixing bath would be made up as follows : Water, 6 ounces ; hypo, 2. ounces. When above is thoroughly dissolved, add the following solution, after completely dissolving the chemicals contained in same: Water, 2 ounces; chrome alum (powdered), 60 grains; potassium metabisulphite (powdered), 60 grains. "Fix negatives completely in this fixing solution and then allow them to remain 15 or 20 minutes longer, being sure that they are completely covered with the solution. This will harden them so that almost any temperature of water may be employed in washing without danger of softening the emulsion. " Use a fresh fixing bath for each batch of work and do not attempt to fix too many rolls in one batch. Fresh fixing bath is cheaper than film." There are stacks of other things that I should like to get out of my system, but I must run up on deck and look for the lights of the homeland ! THE VOYAGE OF YOUR DREAMS XLIV GOLDEN GATE AND SANDY HOOK YES, Uncle Dan, it was great sport to sit out there on C-Deck and figure out how many por- poises we had seen turning somersaults in the Pacific but the Sandy Hook Lightship and the re- volving light there at Navesink Highlands looked mighty good on the noth day. And however goodly may be the sight of Moghul palaces and Japanese tem- ples, the landmarks of 'Frisco Bay can be counted upon to awaken about as much enthusiasm as any- thing else in the world at least to the American globe- trotter. It's all over now all but the lingering memory. We have exchanged addresses and real names with the passengers we like; we have eaten the Farewell Din- ner to the tune of " There, Little Girl, Don't Cry " ; we have danced the Farewell Dance on the promenade deck, with the lights turned low and the orchestra wailing " Good-Night, Ladies " ; and all these emo- tional exercises make us children of the sorrowful countenance. But let us cheer up, for the worst is yet to come tipping the stewards and getting through the Custom-House ! On the Eastward Cruise, all of the agony lands on us in a heap. We make the grand finish all in a bunch, 313 314 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD with the tugs of the Golden Gate screaming, the flags flying, and San Francisco rushing madly to the pier to shake hands and tell us what a great city we have at last come to. On the Westward Cruise, we weep on the installment plan. A few drop off at Cairo; half of us drop off at Naples to make overland trips across Europe ; a fraction disappears at Gibraltar to meander across Spain; a few score vanish at Southampton, to tour the British Isles ; and of those who go on to Ham- burg, only a little handful come home on the Cleveland. This difference in the finish is the essential difference between the two cruises. Do you remember the feeling that came over you as you walked down the gangway of the Cleveland for the last time the gangway that had been to you the royal highway into so many strange cities of the East? Then you can understand something of the feeling that creeps over me as I come to the last little chapter in this record of the cruise. Were it a guide- book or a mere book of travel, the feeling would be only that of infinite relief. But it is a personal story told in a personal way, with you before me as dis- tinctly as the places about which I have been writing. And I would not have it otherwise. I am old-fashioned enough to own up to a certain fondness for the intimate relationship between The Author and The Gentle Reader that was expressed a hundred or more years ago in the stilted prefaces of books. It was the fashion then, however, to make elaborate explanations or apologies for having written GOLDEN GATE AND SANDY HOOK 315 a book. That spirit is far from me. The writing of books is an excellent habit, for it keeps a man out of a lot of mischief between Chapter One and the Finis. Then, if somebody is reckless enough to publish it, and some other man foolish enough to pay out good money for it their sins be on their own heads ! The wretch whose name appears on the title-page has sins enough of his own to answer for unless, perchance, the Recording Angel sets down to his credit the things that he deliberately left out of the book! There have been times, Eunice, as you have been gliding along on one of these pages, when the sudden lack of dignity has jolted you like a stone in the path of your 'rickshaw. You are pained because I have told the story in the language that we used on the ship, in- stead of in the tongue of William Dean Howells and James Lane Allen. For this I am sorry. But I was not always thus. Once, in the long ago, I was the bright particular star of the grammar class. There was every indication that I should one day be a model of correct speech, with a chaste and faultless style that would be quoted as examples for the young to copy in their composition books. It makes me shudder now as I think of it! But let us skip back for a moment, Eunice, to the " City of Trampled Flowers." There is a ghat there on the Ganges called the Tulsi Das Ghat. It is a memorial to a poet who is to-day much loved and much quoted. Tulsi not only wrote good poetry, but he wrote it in the vernacular. And that is the reason why they are reciting it all over the land of Bengal to- 316 TWICE AROUND THE WORLD night, three hundred years after he died, because he wrote it in the everyday language of the people and not in the tongue of the academicians. But I respect your prejudices, Eunice, and I am anxious that we shall take leave of each other in a friendly way. I am, therefore, saying good-bye to you in the way that your soul loves, while I take leave of Uncle Dan, after the manner of Tulsi Das, in a parallel column which you will please overlook: Considering the world-cruise as a whole, the unpleasant as well as the pleasant experi- ences, it was thoroughly en- joyable. It is a voyage that one would gladly repeat, even though the novelty of a first experience in entering strange ports would be missing on an- other cruise of the same gen- eral character. Moreover, aside from the personal recollections of the voyage around the world, it is gratifying to know that one is regarded in the community as a person of broad culture and wide experience in travel. However, in hours of calm reflection, it must be confessed that one is inevitably forced to a realization of the fact that, however humble, " there's no place like home ! " Take it in a lump, Uncle Dan the hot and the cold, the sour and the sweet didn't we have a jim-dandy time? And ain't it a good feeling to walk down the aisle of the Metho- dist Church on Sunday morn- ing and know that folks are nudging themselves and say- ing : " Just think ! Uncle Dan's been around the world ! " And wouldn't it be great fun to wake up some morning and read in the Clarion that a whole bunch of new worlds had just dropped into the sea, and the Cleveland was getting ready to go around them all ? But, after all, when the fire burns low and Aunt Susan begins to yawn and you get up to put the cat out, don't you feel kind o' glad you're back in good old Indiana ? INDEX Across India, 97-172, 25, 31, 17 Across Japan, 243-290, 27, 29 Aden, 24, 31, 96 Agra, 119-126, 24, 112 Air Temperatures, 33 Akbar's Tomb, 125 Algeciras, 63 Antipodes, 291-296, 27, 28 Atlantic Ocean, 32 Babus, 160 Banca Strait, 26, 196 Banyan Tree, 163 Batayia, 197-208, 26, 30 Bathing Ghats, 150-152 Benares, 147-158, no, 117, 315 Bilibid Prison, 216 Black Hole, 162 Bombay, 97-106, 24 Borneo, 30 Brooks, Edward D., 292 Buitenzorg, 207-8, 26 Burma, 173-180 Burning Ghats, 153 Burns, Cecil, 106 Bux, Professor, 158 Cairo, 83-92, 24, 31 Calais, 32 Calcutta, 159-164, 182 Canton, 225-242, 29 Cawnpore, 135-138 Ceuta, 63 Ceylon, 25, 30 Charnock, Job, 159, 182 Charybdis, 70, 24 Chee Leong, 242 " Chilblains," 233 China, 221-242, 182, 185 Colombo, 25, 30 Columbus, 16, 49, 52, 54 Commercial Museum, 252 Corsica, 23 Cowes, 32 Crossing Equator, 187 Crossing iSoth Meridian, 291 Curzon, Lord, 124, 132, 163 Cuxhaven, 32 Daibutsu, 256, 267 Dalai Lama, 172 Damiette Light, 76 Darjeeling, 165-172 Deichman, Carl, 245 Del Cano, Sebastian, 13-20 Delhi, 127-134 Dempwolf, Captain, 305 Diamond Harbour, 161, 30, 22 Diamond Head, 297 Distances, 34, 82 Dover, 32, 33 Durbar, 128 Egypt, 75-96 El Azhar, 90 Elba, 23 English Channel, 32, 33 Equator, 187-196, 26, 30 Fleischmann, Julius, 292 Flower Boats, 237 Franck, Harry A., 93 Funchal, 49-56, 23 Ganges River, 148, 166 Geishas, 246, 253 Germany, 32 "Geyser," 278 Gibraltar, 57-66, 23, 32 Gordon Highlanders, 136 Gray, Henry B., 196 Great Moghuls, 125 317 318 INDEX Guides, 19, 53, 77, 86, 90, 114, 116, 242 " H.P.C.," 16, 301 Hamburg, 39-48, 32 Happy Valley, 221 Hawaii, 297-306, 56 Hayashi, Aisaku, 273 Hearn, Lafcadio, 268 Higashi Hongwanji, 254 High Jinks, 187, 291, 237 Himalayas, 165-172 Hoboken, 23, 249 Hong Kong, 221-224, 26, 29 Honolulu, 297-306, 16, 27, 28, 50 Hooghly River, 22, in, 161 Hosainabad, 146 Hotels, 84, 98, 160, 164, 171, 199, 205, 230, 250, 254, 262, 268, 273, 277, 279, 288 Hough, Dr. George A., 47, 77, 255 Hula Dance, 303 Hundred Steps, 265 leyasu, 288 " Imperator," 40 India, 97-172 Indian Mutiny, 132 Inland Sea, 247-8, 27, 29 Isle of Wight, 32 Ismailia, 80 Italy, 69-74 Itmad-ud-Daulah, 121 Japan, 243-290 Java, 197-208 Johore, 183, 26, 30 Jordan, Marcus, 193 Kadam Rasul, 142 Kamakura, 267-8 Kanchenjunga, 171 Kashmere Gate, 133 Kasuga, 255 "Kim," 107-118, 145 Kipling, J. Lockwood, 105 Kipling, Rudyard, 97-118, 160, 179 Kobe, 249-250, 27, 29 Kowloon, 225-227, 223 Kriesz, George W., 198 Kruse, Chief Officer, 22, 292 Kuechler Letter, 289 Kyoto, 251-254 Lisbon, 32 Log of a Globe-Trotter, 21-34 Lody, Carl, 48, 108 Lovers' Tree, 256 Lucknow, 139-146, 114 Macao, 29 Madeira, 49-56, 23 Magellan, Ferdinand, 13-20 Manila, 209-220, 26, 29, 20, 300 Martini, A., 44, 189 Mecking, Dr. L., 292 Mediterranean, 57-74, 23, 31, 32 Menu, 45, 46, 296 Meridian 180, 291-296 Messina, 70, 24, 31 Mileage, 34, 82 Moanalua, 299 Moghuls, 125 Monte Carlo, 67, 23 Monte Cristo, 23 Moti Mahal, 143 Mount JEtna, 24, 31 Mount Everest, 171 Mount Sinai, 24, 96 Mumtaz, 119-124 Mutiny, 132 Nagasaki, 243-246, 26, 29, 278 Nagoya, 261-2 Naples, 69-74, 32 Nara, 255-6 Nationalities, 38 Neptune, 187-190 New York, 38 Nice, 67 Nikko, 287-290 Nisa Teramachi, 251 Niwa, Mr., 253 Okamoto Inn, 280 Osaka, 257-260 INDEX 319 Pacific Ocean, 27, 28 Palace of Lights, 146 Parsees, 99-102 Pasig River, 213 Peacock Throne, 130 Pearl Harbour, 297 Pearl River, 225, 233, 237 Perim, 96 Philippines, 209-220, 14 Photography, 309-312, 234 Pillsbury, Charles S., 292 Plague, 99 Port Said, 76, 24 Portsmouth, 32 Puwahi, Madame, 304 Pyramids, 88, 24 Raffles, Sir Thomas, 181 Railways, 79, 107, 166, 207, 225, 261 Rameses II, 92 Rangoon, 173-180, 26, 30, 113 Red Sea, 93-96, 24, 31 Reggio, 70 Riviera, 66 Saddhus, 154 San Francisco, 27, 28, 18, 313 Sara Ghat, 167 Sardinia, 32 Sarnath, 157, 113, 116, 117 Savage, Col. Henry W., 258 Scherer, Carl, 48, 189 Scylla, 70, 24 Shah Jahan, 119-126 Shah Najuf Tomb, 142 Shameen, 231 Shek Lung, 229 Sheldon, Charles, 292 Shimonoseki, 27, 29 Shinsaibashi, 257 Shwe Dagon, 175 Sikandra, 125 Sikandra Bagh, 141 Singapore, 181-186, 26, 30 Southampton, 32 Spain, 57-66 Sphinx, 88 Straits Settlements, 181-186 Streets of Cairo, 87 Stromboli, 69, 24, 32 Suez, 80, 24, 31 Suez Canal, 76-82, 24, 31 Suicide at Sea, 190 Taj Mahal, 119-126 Tandjong Priok, 197, 26, 30 Tangier, 59, 62 Tay-ee, 281 Tel-el-Kebir, 84 Temperature, 33, 94, 174 Temple of Tirthankers, 116 Tenrikyo, 259 Tiger Hill, 17, 170 Tokyo, 269-286 Towers of Silence, 101 Trafalgar, 59, 60 Treves, Sir Frederick, 79, 93, 94, 138, 157, 269 Tulsi Das, 315 Twain, Mark, 306 U. S. S. Colorado, 305 U. S. S. West Virginia, 305 Utsunomiya, 287 Vesuvius, 71 Victoria Peak, 222, 233 Villefranche, 67, 23 Vogelsang, Carl, 48, 189 Waikiki Beach, 299, 300 Weltevreden, 197-206, 27, 30 White Cloud City, 241 Widows, 36 Wood, H. P., 302 Yokohama, 263-266, 27, 29 Yoshiwara, 275 Youmie, 281 Zagazig, 84 Zargo, 55 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA