"But when of morn and eve the star I feel, though thou art distant far, "Then on! then on! where duty leads, O'er broad Hindostan's sultry mead, "That course, nor Delhi's kingly gates, Nor wild Malwah detain, For sweet the bliss us both awaits By yonder western main. "Thy towers, Bombay, gleam bright, they say, Across the dark blue sea, But ne'er were hearts so light and gay As then shall meet in thee." CHAPTER X. The Bishop continues his visitation voyage-Enters the Moorshedabad river-Thunder-storm-First view of the Rajmahal-hills-Ruins of Gour-Arrival at the towns of Rajmahal and Sicligully—Remarkable tomb-Celebrated cavern-Reaches Boglipoor-Character and customs of the Puharrees-Useful exertions of the late Rev. Thomas Christian-Breadth of the Ganges-Arrival at Monghyr-Alligators— Aquatic habits of the Indians—Enters Patna, Bankipoor, Dinapoor, Buxar, Ghazepoor-Monument of Lord Cornwallis. HEBER pursued his voyage on the 3rd of August, taking one of those streams which lead from the Ganges into the Moorshedabad river. But here the rush of water was such as to render it almost impossible to proceed. After many fruitless efforts, they at length took another channel, where the current ran less impetuously; and continuing under sail till nine at night, having the advantage of a strong breeze, they made considerable progress, bringing up at a small but neat village, where the bishop, during his evening walk, had the following characteristic dialogue with the chief dealer in the place. "We went along a line till we came to a large and clean-looking hut, with a small shed adjoining; where, with a lamp over his head, and a small heap of cowries, some comfits, elicampane, rice, ghee, and other grocery matters before him, sat the bunyan (trader) of the place; a shrewd, sharp, angular old man in spectacles, being the first naked man I ever saw so decorated. On our asking for milk he laughed, and said that neither he, nor, to his knowledge, the giriftu, had either cow or goat. The land here,' said he, 'is never quite overflowed; it is therefore too good for pasture, and we never let our cows look at it till after harvest.' 'But,' said my servant, the sahib* will give a good price for it.' 'Whether you give or no,' said the old man testily, it does not matter, unless you choose to milk the cat.' Thus ended our search. In the meantime the boats had arrived, so that the milk was not wanted; but the evening was so fine that I continued to walk up and down, till Abdallah besought me not to take so much exercise, saying it was that which had turned my hair so grey since my arrival in India." The next day, after a pleasant run of several hours, they arrived at the principal entrance of the Moorshedabad river. Here they encountered a heavy gale, accompanied with much lightning and thunder; but as the wind was in their favour, it proved of advantage to them rather than otherwise, carrying them, at a speedy rate, beyond a part of the river that was rapid and difficult. During this day they passed a number of ant-hills, the labour of the white-ant; many of which," says Heber, were five or six feet high, and probably seven or eight feet in circumference at their base, partially overgrown with grass and ivy, looking, at a distance, like the stumps of decayed trees. The pyramids, when the comparative bulk of the individuals that reared them is taken into the estimate, are as nothing to the works of these termites. The counterpart 66 * Native term for his lordship. 766 of one of these hills, which I passed to-day, would be as if a nation were to set to work to build an artificial Snowdon, and bore it full of holes and galleries." This day Heber had the gratification to catch the first glimpse of the Rajmahâl-hills, appearing at that distance like a range of blue elevations, on his right hand. He watched them at first with distrust, fearing they were clouds: but he soon perceived that they moved not, and on making an enquiry respecting them, learned, with a high degree of pleasure, that they were the hills he had so long been toiling to reach. At the place where they brought up this night, all around them was a scene of desolation, presenting evident proofs of the devastation and ruin that had followed the last year's inundation. In this spot they were informed it had completely swept away a large village, with its gardens, meadows, orchards, and every thing that belonged to it, leaving no vestige whatever of its existence. "I walked up and down this scene of desolation for some time," says Heber, "but found nothing to mark that any habitation had ever stood there. The sand lay smooth, yet wavy, as we see it on a coast exposed to heavy seas; and there were no marks of any thing living, or having lived, except some scattered skulls and bones of animals, probably brought from a distance by the terrible stream which had blotted out and hidden the community of this place." They were now in the direct northern track from Calcutta ; and instead of only seeing a number of small fishing vessels, as had been the case on the majestic stream of the Puddah, they now beheld many larger vessels, some of which were passing them every few minutes, gliding gently down the stream which the pinnace was stemming. Continuing their course on the 5th, as rapidly as the strong opposing current would permit, they came to a less desolate spot, where some woods and cultivated fields were to be seen: the hills, as they approached them, appeared higher and larger, resembling, according to the bishop's account, in some degree, the Peck fortonhills in Cheshire; but the country around them continued as flat as possible, looking like a bay of the sea, of which these hills seemed to be the termination, which Heber was inclined to imagine must, at some remote period, have been the case. After a very tedious day's passage, they brought up for the night on the borders of Rajmahâl-bay, a desolate and most uncomfortable spot, in the vicinity of the ruins of Gour, once a mighty city, celebrated in the most ancient Hindoo poetry, said to have been equal in size to Nineveh, or Babylon. It evidently owed all its celebrity to the circumstance of having the Ganges roll under its walls, which two centuries ago forsook its old bed, and took the course it now pursues. Gour began immediately to decay, and is now reduced to an assemblage of mere shapeless mounds, covered with jungle, the haunt of snakes, jackals, and wild beasts. "The same mighty river," observes Heber, "which had, only the preceding year, swept away a populous village, on the desolate spot where we were yesterday, had at that period, by a different process, turned Gour into a wilderness." 'Now pointed at by wisdom and by wealth Stands, in the wilderness of woe, Masar.' "It is impossible to pass it," says the bishop, "without recollecting that what Gour is, Calcutta may one day become; unless the river, in its new channel, should assume a more fatal direction, and sweep our churches, markets, and palaces into that saltwater lake upon which that town is erected, and which is indeed its natural estuary.” Crossing the bay on the 6th, they entered a chan |