THE WINDS OF THE OCEAN 69 



October to March, there is a vast area between the 

 Chagos Archipelago, the Equator, and the coast of 

 Africa given over to calms and variable winds, which 

 during the rest of the year is fairly covered by the 

 South-East Trades. And there is also during the 

 hurricane season an encroachment upon the northern 

 border of the South-East Trade by a seasonal series 

 of winds called the north-east monsoons, occupying a 

 great space, speaking generally, of 10 S. of the equator 

 and from 70 of east longitude. But this is far 

 from being a reliable wind, indeed I think it should 

 all be classed as variable, and not be dignified with 

 the title of monsoon at all. And now coming north 

 of the line we find fine weather. It is a bad wind 

 for sailors bound to India, but the weather has 

 abundant compensations. The sky is clear, the winds 

 are light, the ocean serene; in fact, the weather is 

 all that can be desired at sea. But, alas, on land it 

 is another story. All over the vast fields of Hindostan 

 the heavens are as brass, and animated Nature longs 

 voicelessly for a change. The suffering patient ryot 

 paces his parched land, the surface of which is 

 pulverized into finest dust by the fierce sun, and sees 

 the baked earth open in great fissures, huge dumb 

 mouths opening up to the irresponsive heavens. He, 

 with his burned-up crops, endures in patient suffering, 

 knowing that though the heavens be adamant above 

 him relief will surely come, even though it be too 

 late to save his individual life. This tragedy of wait- 

 ing for the celestial verdict goes on every year, 

 although it has been greatly mitigated by the labours 

 of irrigation engineers, and the carrying out of their 

 great schemes of water storage. Yet even now the 



