1889-90-] -^ Journey from Bombay to J eypore. 311 



vant — not a very pleasant prospect in India. This young 

 lady, however, is a born traveller, and well acquainted with 

 the methods of dealing with orientals, as she had visited 

 Egypt, the Soudan, Palestine, and Asia Minor, although this 

 was her first trip to India. We were exceedingly lucky in 

 securing the services of our man-servant, as he proved a very 

 superior person ; and altogether our experiences with servants 

 were much more favourable than those of most visitors we met. 



It is my intention merely to read to you a few extracts 

 from my diary, which was written under great difficulties, as 

 we travelled so constantly that unless it was kept up to date 

 from day to day, it would soon have been hopelessly in arrears. 

 No doubt many things we saw were not described in detail as 

 they should have been ; but that, perhaps, is not to be re- 

 gretted, as everything in India is so difficult to understand 

 properly, that we should probably have fallen into even more 

 mistakes than we in all likelihood have done. 



The first extract is regarding the Towers of Silence at Bom- 

 bay. Having received a permit through the kindness of 

 friends, we drove to the Towers of Silence — the place where 

 the Parsees dispose of their dead. Our drive took us past 

 many private gardens, brilliant with poinsettias and red and 

 yellow crotons ; and every now and again the eye was diverted 

 by the movements of the beautiful little striped squirrels that 

 rushed across the road and up the trees, or sat on walls look- 

 ing at us, quite fearless from being continually unmolested. 

 At length, having gradually ascended Malabar Hill, we began 

 to look down upon the groves of palm-trees and bananas on 

 the lower ground, with hardly a breath of air to rustle their 

 tufted foliage or relieve the oppressive heat. I almost felt 

 inclined to get out and walk when I thought of the poor 

 horses, as there were three of us inside the carriage and four 

 natives outside — not a bad load. As all the natives were 

 dressed in full costume, our equipage was most picturesque, 

 and would certainly have caused a sensation if it had appeared 

 in Edinburgh. There was the driver and his syce or footman, 

 our native servant Lhalla, and the head butler of the friends 

 who had kindly given us the permit. 



When we had reached within about 100 feet from the top 

 of Malabar Hill the carriage turned into a private road, and 



