NUWARA ELIYA. 
money, for the next time or times they recognized 
you, or your horsekeeper was sent on in advance to 
say you were coming, take an old traveller’s word 
for it, there would he no detention at the Gampola 
ferry. These ferry men had nothing at all to do 
with the fares or tolls received from travellers : they 
were merely hired boatmen, and the proprietor of the 
ferry in a small house at the side of the road above 
the banks of the river, with a toll-bar across the 
road, where he received the fares from the passers- 
by. So that you stepped out of and into the boat 
without any trouble or hindrance. 
What a meeting place for friends was the old Gam- 
pola ferry ! Gangs of coolies proceeding to their coun- 
try would meet other gangs coming in, and hear all 
the “home news” and state of the roads ; the immi- 
grant coolies would hear from their friends, homeward- 
bound, the state of the labour supply on the differ- 
ent estates, all about the “good” and “bad” mas- 
ters, what place to go to, and what to avoid, for the 
bulk of the immigrant coolies then, probably, had 
not definitely made up their mind what estates to 
go to ; even if they had, whether or not they would 
be received and taken on was doubtful, for these 
were the days of a plentiful labour supply, before 
crop three days’ work a week or even for their rice. 
Coolies going on messages, or with loads to and from 
all the Pussellawa, andIPamboda, and Badulla estates, 
met at the ferry, and bad their small talk as to 
what the other was carrying, and if the master often 
sent to Kandy for beer and brandy, it was all known 
at this ferry ; coolies carrying broken palpers, fly- 
wheels, cylinders, taking to Kandy for repairs, and 
others carrying out “patched up” ones, all met at 
the ferry, and all the smashes that had taken place 
in machinery on the estates were all very well known 
and discussed. Also, amongst planters themselves, 
how many here met at that ferry, and never met 
again ! How little did they think, as the one waved 
his hat in the departing raft, and the other flourished 
his riding-whip, as he cantered off up to the road, 
that they would never meet again ! This recals a 
personal reminiscence. Coming out of the ferry boat 
on the Gampola side, being bound for Kandy, two 
gentlemen are standing on the shore leaning on their 
horses’ necks, awaiting the boat. One of them we 
recognize and shake hands with, who introduces us 
to the other. A good stare is exchanged he exclaims, 
“ Can you be the boy I last met at — — in the old 
country?” And we say, Can you be ?” Just so, 
we are both the same. A short talk and the boat 
