With reference to rot, it is of great importance to thin out young wood as early as possible, so that, when the rot season arrives, the trees may have a moderate amount of well-matured young wood, with fully-developed hardened leaves, instead of a largo number of small succulent shoots covered with succulent leaves, which are very apt to be rotted bodily away. And the importance of this is equally great with reference to leaf disease, and Mr. Ward, in his "Report" (p. 15), points out that pruning and manuring should be so timed that the tree may have, at the beginning of the wet weather, mature wood and leaves, and the whole of his observations on this head point to the conclusion that manuring ought to be carried out at the close of the monsoon, and that pruning, which encourages the growth of much young wood, should be limited as much as possible to the removal of utterly useless, worn-out wood. Under the head of pruning and handling, the reader will find some remarks with reference to the important subject of the best time for pruning so as to limit rot and leaf disease.

I am glad to say that I have no other pests to chronicle as regard Mysore estates, but as estates on the Nilgiris sometimes suffer from green-bugs, I give the following treatment, which was discovered, and has been effectually used by Mr. Reilly of Hill Grove Estate, Coonoor, who has kindly permitted me to publish the recipe.

For every 30 or 35 gallons of water take a bundle of wild merang (Leucas zeylanica or (Kanarese) Thumba Soppu) plants about two feet in diameter, and, after removing the roots, boil it for about four or five hours, and let it cool all night, and in the morning apply the decoction to the coffee trees affected, with the aid of a garden syringe. The trees should be well syringed, and it is advisable to give the tree a second application. The refuse of the boiled plant should be scattered on the ground around the stem of the tree.

This prescription might probably be useful in the case of garden plants or shrubs which have been attacked by insects.

FOOTNOTES:

[56] Mr. Reilly, of Hillgrove Estate, Coonoor, told me that he had first noticed leaf disease about twenty-six years ago. It commenced low down on the coffee on the Coonoor Ghaut, and then came gradually up the Ghaut.

[57] A planter on the slopes of the Nilgiris gave me a well marked instance of leaf disease being increased from want of digging, when there was a good opportunity of contrasting the dug with the undug soil.



CHAPTER XV.

THE SELECTION OF LAND FOR PLANTATIONS, AND THE VALUATION OF COFFEE PROPERTY.

The selection of land for the planting of coffee requires great judgment, and the consideration of many circumstances besides the question as to whether the land is or is not capable of growing good coffee. For, in addition to questions of the age of the forest land, climate, the steepness of the gradients, aspect, and soil, we have to consider the healthiness of the climate, the water supply, the facilities for procuring labour, and the proximity of the land to good means of communication. Then as to the valuing of coffee plantations we have, of course, to consider all these points, as well as many others, to which I shall presently allude when I come to treat of that branch of my subject.

In Mysore, notwithstanding the enormous quantity of forest land stretching along the Western Ghauts, there is, compared to the total area of forest, but comparatively little land, suitable for coffee, to be cleared. In the southern part of the province there is none, that I am aware of, worthy of the attention of Europeans, but one of the planters in the northern part of Mysore tells me that in that part of the country there is still much uncleared land, partly in the hands of the State, and partly the property of individuals. Such uncleared lands (and it is important when valuing a plantation to remember the following classification) may be divided into three classes, (1) the original forest, or, as the natives call it, mother jungle, that has never been touched by man; (2) the forest of secondary growth which has sprung up after the mother forest land has been cleared for grain growing, and abandoned after a crop or two has been taken from the soil; and (3) land on which young forest is growing, and which has never previously had any other forest on it. These three classes of lands are easily recognized by experienced persons, and even at a considerable distance. In the first there are large numbers of trees of great size, and often of timber of good quality. In the second there are no large trees, or perhaps only one or two samples of the original forest—generally mangoe, as they are often used as worshipping places—towering from fifty to sixty feet above the present level of the forest. In the case of the third, or young forest: this class of land may readily be recognized by the number of young Nundy and other deciduous trees. The first-named class of forest is of course by far the most valuable; the second will be more or less valuable according to the time that has elapsed since the mother jungle was felled—in some cases this may be only 40 or 50 years ago, in others from 50 to 100, and perhaps in some instances upwards of 150 years ago. In the last case, of course, the land will approximate in value to the mother jungle, but in the first there is an enormous difference in the value of the land, which will easily be understood when we consider what takes place when forest is cleared, burnt off and cropped. For in the tremendous conflagration that ensues, much of the accumulated wealth of ages is destroyed; and I may remind the reader that an iron peg driven firmly down till its head was level with the ground of a newly-cleared piece of forest, was found to be projecting no less than six inches from the surface after the fire was over. Then a crop is sown which indeed is not an exhaustive one, but it must be remembered that the land is exposed to heavy tropical rains, and perhaps for two years, after which it is abandoned, and allowed to grow up again into forest. So that the injury to the land from the burning of the forest, the removal of one or two crops of grain, and especially the loss from wash, bring about a state of exhaustion which a very long time is required to repair. The value of the land, then, in which this secondary growth of forest has sprung up, will entirely depend upon the time when the forest was cleared and burnt off, and as this is more or less conjectural, it is difficult to give on paper any guide as to the probable time, and the valuer can only form an opinion from the practice he has had in examining forest lands. As regards the third class, i.e., young forest on land that has never had any previous forest growth, the valuer can have little doubt. Such lauds are not desirable, and are as inferior to lands of the second class as these generally are to those of the first, or mother jungles.

I have said that a vast quantity of forest along the Western Ghauts is unsuitable for coffee; and it is so because of the excessive and continuous rainfall, and the estates, fortunately very few in number, which were started in the wet mountain regions which fringe the Mysore tableland, have all been abandoned. But on the eastern side of the passes the rainfall gradually diminishes, and at a distance of about six or seven miles from the crests of the Ghauts the coffee zone commences, and stretches inland to varying distances from the Ghauts till the forest region gradually dies away into the wide-spreading plains of the interior of the province. Of the rainfall in this coffee region we have no reliable accounts, and it varies much even within short distances, but it is generally believed to range from 50 inches on the most easterly side of the coffee districts[58] to about 120 on the west. Opinions vary much as to the most desirable site for plantations, but I think that most planters are inclined to think that a rainfall of about 70 inches is the most desirable. As regards elevation above sea level, plantations vary from 2,800 feet to upwards of 4,000, and it is generally supposed that the highest elevations yield the best coffee, but it is very difficult to form any precise conclusion on the subject. Cannon's coffee, which is mostly grown at about 4,000 feet, always fetched a high price, but this was owing, I believe, to its long-established good name, for, when I grew coffee at elevations of from, I believe, 3,200 to nearly 3,500 feet, and of the same variety of plant, a large wholesale and retail dealer told me that whether they bought my coffee, Cannon's, or Santawerry (an estate of the best reputation) it was all the same. After looking over many lists of sales in recent years, I am struck with the small differences in the prices obtained for Mysore coffees, with the exception of Cannon's and a few estates which still grow the old original plant of Mysore. But all the estates which grow the Coorg plant obtain prices very similar, though there is a considerable difference in the elevation of the estates, and therefore, so far as the price of the coffee is concerned, I should not, in valuing land for planting, attach much importance to mere elevation, as long as it does not go below 2,000 to 3,000 feet, for below that we have no experience to go by, and are, therefore, unable to say what effect a lower elevation would have on the character of the coffee. We have now considered both climate and elevation, and the values of the various kinds of forest land, and have next to look at, and if possible value, the effects of aspect.

The more I have seen and studied coffee the more am I struck with the value of aspect, and this is of enormous importance in such a climate as Mysore, which is liable to suffer so often from prolonged droughts, and as it is quite a common thing to have five months without a drop of rain, and also during part of that time to have either dry winds or hot desiccating blasts of air coming in from the heated plains of the interior, it can easily be understood that in valuing lands, much consequence should be attached to forest which contains a large proportion of north and north-western aspects. As to the relative value of the various aspects I have fully treated the subject in my remarks on shade, and I must leave it to the personal experience of planters to determine how much more value they would attach to land mainly facing north and north-west as compared with land facing mainly south and south-west. For myself I should consider that the former was at least ten per cent. more valuable than the latter; and that the relative value of the other aspects should be carefully weighed before coming to an opinion as to the price that should be given for forest land.

In the valuation of land the next thing we have to consider is the steepness of the gradients on it. Now after having had much experience of steep land, land on moderate slopes, and land which might almost be called flat, I have no hesitation in giving a decided preference to the moderately sloping land. I object to the steep land, because it is troublesome to work and manure, and because the ridges on it are sure to be poor; and to the flat land, because the soil is apt to become sodden in our heavy monsoons, and because it is soon apt to harden, and thus is troublesome to work. In my opinion, the highest value ought to be attached to the moderately sloping lands, less value to the flat, or nearly flat lands, and less still to steep lands.

As regards the kinds of soil suitable for coffee, there are points on which some difference of opinion exists. All however are, I think, agreed in thinking that the most desirable soils are those of dark chocolate colour, considerable depth, and of easily workable character—what would be described in England as a rather heavy loamy soil. Then, and sometimes touching these soils, there are soils of decidedly whitish appearance, against which a general prejudice exists; but though some of these soils are light and of inferior character, others are capable of growing coffee quite as well as the best of the chocolate soils. Occasionally there are small sections to be found in good coffee lands of soil of a light character and pinkish hue, which few people not familiar with it could suppose to be a good soil, but in this I have found that coffee flourishes remarkably well. There are other classes of soil which are generally considered to be inferior to those above mentioned, lightish, bright rod soils, black soils (though I have seen very good coffee in such), and soils of a whitish and rather sandy character; but it may be laid down as a general rule that all the soils we have, and I think I have soil of almost every class, are capable of growing good coffee if the climate is suitable, and if the forest in it is of undoubted primaeval character; and I have much reason to think that, where soils have been found to be unfavourable, it is owing to the original jungle, say 50 or over 100 years ago, having been felled, burnt off, and cropped with grain for a season, and then abandoned. In from thirty to forty years very fair forest can be grown, but I should say that it would take at least 150 years to restore the land to anything approaching its chemical and physical condition when the primaeval forest was first felled.

We have, lastly, to consider the healthiness of the climate, the water supply, the facilities for procuring labour, and the proximity of the land to good roads.

As regards the climate of the coffee districts in Mysore, I have no evidence before me to show that there is much difference as regards health in any of the climates, though some, from elevation and nearness to the Ghauts and the source of the sea-breezes, are decidedly more agreeable than others which are lower, hotter, and more distant from the western passes. Manjarabad, however, is generally considered to be the healthiest district, and some are of opinion that certain parts of the northern coffee district are rather below the average as to healthiness. A good water supply for drinking, and for pulping and nurseries, is, of course, of great importance, and a careful account should be taken of this in valuing land for planting. Then the facilities as to the supply of labour require to be carefully taken into consideration. They vary very much, as, in some cases, the whole labour has to be imported, while in other cases a considerable supply can be drawn from villages in the immediate proximity of the land. At one time it was always considered that it was a great advantage to have local labour, but the local labourers have now become so well off and independent that many planters much prefer the imported labourers, because the former are so uncertain in their attendance, while the latter, when once on the estates, have nothing to take them away from their work till the season arrives for their departing to their homes, either below the Ghauts, or in the interior of the province, from both of which sources the planters of Mysore draw so much of their labour. But in the picking season there can be no doubt that the vicinity of villages is a great advantage, as this generally occurs before the rice harvest, and before that takes place, many people are glad to work for a month or two months on the plantations. So that, in valuing land, proximity to villages ought certainly to be taken into favourable account. Finally, in valuing land, the proximity to good roads and easy access to them is of great importance—and I say easy access to them because it sometimes happens that land is situated on the wrong side of an unbridged river which is sure to be in flood for many months of the year. I now turn to the important subject of valuing plantations of various ages.

I may commence here by observing that all the points enumerated as regards the valuation of land suitable for coffee apply equally to plantations, but it is hardly necessary to say that there are many additional points to be considered when valuing a plantation that is for sale, or for which a valuation may be required for any other purpose. The first point that a valuator should inquire into, is the age of the forest land on which a plantation has been formed. This may not be very easily determined, as the whole of the original forest may have been removed, but there are nearly certain to be corners left, and the valuator should remember that the surest sign of very old forest is an occasional very old and partly decayed Nandi tree, or large and aged Marragudtha trees. The next point to be considered is as to whether the forest was all felled at once and burnt off with a running fire, or whether it was cleared by degrees—i.e., in the first year cleared of underwood and a few of the large trees, and the wood piled and burned in separate heaps, and the large trees gradually removed in subsequent years. This may be regarded as a very important point, for in the latter case the physical condition of the soil will be sure to have been better maintained, and, in the opinion of one of our most experienced planters, the coffee will be much less liable to attacks of the Borer. The age of the plantation should next be inquired into, but mere age, it must be remembered, though it may be of great importance, is by no means always so. At first sight it would appear that a young plantation, with its virgin soil, must be more valuable than an old one, but I have in my mind's eye a plantation in Manjarabad, belonging to friends of mine, and the planting of which was begun as far back as 1857. Last year one of my friends took me over it, and a finer plantation it would be impossible to find, and at the end of our walk he said to me, "The place is better than you ever saw it." And so it most undoubtedly was: and, as another planting friend once wrote to me, "All the old established estates in Mysore are to the front still, and many of them better than they ever were," and better because manuring and cultivation have improved pieces of inferior land and ridges to such a degree as to make them superior to what they were before the land was first cleared and planted. One of the estates in question was opened about ninety-five years ago, and yet contains as fine coffee as one could wish to see. All depends upon the care with which the estate has been kept up, and into that the valuator must specially inquire, and he must also specially inquire into the age of the coffee trees, which, always supposing that the soil has been well kept up, is of far more importance than the mere age of the estate. My friends' estate, for instance, above alluded to, was an old estate, but it was, comparatively speaking, a fresh plantation, for all the old trees had been removed, and the whole property replanted with the Coorg plant. So that, though the estate was old, the coffee was by no means so.

From what I have hitherto said, it is evident that in many cases the valuing of an estate presents to the mind an extremely complicated problem, and there are so many exceptions and limitations, and so many points of doubtful nature—the question of the age, for instance, at which the coffee tree declines—that I cannot attempt to do more than indicate those to which the valuator should turn his attention. There are, however, points on which I can express a more decided opinion—the shade on an estate, its kind, or kinds, and regulation.

After what has been previously written as to shade, its weight in determining the value of a plantation must obviously be very great; so much so, that planters, when going round an estate in Mysore, are generally more taken up with observing the shade than the coffee underneath it. And I cannot, perhaps, better illustrate the effects of bad caste trees than by mentioning what a neighbour said to me when I was going round his plantation. He pointed to the coffee under a bad caste tree and said, "The coffee there gave a good crop this year, but the trees are suffering now, and will give a poor crop next year; while the coffee under the good caste trees there gave a good crop this year, are looking well now, and will give a good crop next year." Such, then, is the difference, and sometimes it is much more, between bad and good caste shade trees. And when the reader remembers that Mr. Graham Anderson has said that he has experienced more misfortune of every kind owing to the presence of bad caste shade trees, it is evident that a valuator should attach a much higher value to a plantation shaded entirely with good caste shade trees than to one with bad or indifferent kinds of shade trees. For the latter mean diminished crops, and more Borer and leaf disease, while the former lead to the very opposite effects.

Manurial facilities have next to be taken into consideration, and here we shall find a very great difference between estates. Some, but I am afraid very few, have spare, odd bits of jungle land which the proprietors have acquired for the purpose, or angles of the original forest which they have left uncleared, from which valuable top soil may be procured, while others are in parts of the country where the grazing for cattle is good, and where cattle manure can sometimes be bought from the natives. But many estates have no top soil resources, and but poor facilities of making bulk manure, and all these points require to be carefully considered when valuing an estate.

But besides all the previously mentioned points, there are the labour facilities, the water supply, and lastly, but by no means leastly, the concentration of all the points of most importance in one central point to be taken into consideration. It often happens on estates that the nursery is in one place, the pulping-house half a mile from that, and the bungalow half a mile from either. But is it not obvious that an estate is more valuable when the bungalow, drying-ground, pulper, and nursery are all within a stone's throw of each other?

Lastly, we come to the most difficult question of all. How many years' purchase is a coffee property worth? To this question I can give no answer at all, nor is it likely that any answer can ever be given till all the facts connected with the industry become widely known. And of all these determining facts, the execution of the projected railway line through the southern coffee district to Mangalore will certainly be the most important. This line, in fact (which will probably be opened in three years' time), will alter the entire position of coffee, as it will not only provide for the carriage of coffee to the coast and the importation of manure, but will bring the planters within ready touch of the finest sanatorium in the world—the Nilgiri Hills.

FOOTNOTES:

[58] My friend Mr. Graham Anderson presented to the Durbar, at the meeting of the Representative Assembly in 1892, an interesting memorandum on rainfall in Mysore, and the influence of trees on the condition of climate, and in this he has given a return of the rainfall for a section of the Manjarabad Talook, stretching inland from the crest of the Ghauts to about the termination of the forest tract—a parallelogram of fifteen miles in length from west to east, and about four miles from north to south. This section shows, from April to end of August, a rainfall of 291.53 inches on the extreme west, as compared with 44.21 inches on the extreme east. But it is remarkable that this variation of no less than 247.32 inches occurred on the northern side of the tract, the variation on the southern side being only from 232.46 inches to 72.42 inches, or a difference of only 160.04 inches. This shows an extraordinary, and at present unaccountable, deflecting of the South-West Monsoon current. Mr. Anderson remarks that, though in heavy weather and with favourable winds, the Monsoon rain is often carried to a considerable distance to the east of the termination of the forest tract, it is of common occurrence to find an almost total cessation of continuous rain a few miles beyond the forest zone.

In the memorandum in question Mr. Anderson also remarks on the well known and interesting fact that the clearing away of certain descriptions of trees, and the substitution of others improves the supply of water in the springs. But the whole memorandum is both interesting and practical, and its presentation at the meeting of the Representative Assembly is an additional illustration of the value of that institution in pressing matters of importance on the attention of the Government. The returns of the rainfall were obtained from various planters on the section of country investigated by Mr. Anderson.



CHAPTER XVI.

HOW TO MAKE AN ESTATE PAY, AND THE ORDER OF THE WORK.

The first step towards making a plantation pay is to eliminate all sources of loss, and the first point claiming attention relates to the advisability of abandoning all the spots on an estate which are difficult to keep up, sometimes from defects of soil, sometimes of aspect, and more often of both. At present you often find, just as you do in the case of farmers in Scotland, that planters often make money on the good land to throw much of it away on the bad, and the people who thus act simply do so from want of strength of mind; for everyone knows that it costs more to keep up inferior coffee than it does to keep up the best, and that the latter yields good and certain crops, while the former yields poor and uncertain crops. And it is equally well known that highly manured and well situated coffee on good land can always be relied on to give a paying crop, even in the very worst season, while coffee on poor land with a bad aspect is simply at the mercy of the season. And one of the oldest planters in Mysore told me that, some thirty years ago, when his land was, comparatively speaking, unexhausted, if the blossom showers were favourable he got a good crop all over the estate, but that if they were unfavourable, the best situated coffee on the best land still gave a fair crop, while the rest of the plantation produced very little. The maximum of high and safe profits, then, will be obtained where the land kept up is all good, well situated, and well manured. There are, of course, occasional spots of half an acre or so in the very best lands which must by no means be abandoned. On the contrary, they should be kept up at any cost, as they would be the means of spreading weeds into the surrounding land, and the places that should be abandoned are continuous pieces or blocks on the outside of the coffee to be kept up. I may remind the reader here that where an outside block can, as it were, be sliced off one side of the estate, an application can be made to the Government to have it measured and classed in future as land thrown out of cultivation, which is liable to a reduced rate of taxation, but the Government will make no reduction in the case of pieces of land, which are in the plantation, being thrown out of cultivation. I have said that the pieces of inferior land which may be occasionally found in the good coffee should certainly be kept up; but there are, in the case of steep lands, sometimes pieces of land at the heads of slopes, and next to the fence, where, from injudicious management, the soil has gradually worked down the hill, and in such cases a strip of the barest land near the head of the slope may with advantage be thrown out of cultivation, and the abandoned land should be thickly planted with trees, the leaves of which will be shed downwards amongst the coffee. And in planting such abandoned strips with trees an addition will be made to the value of the estate, as wood, as elsewhere pointed out, soon becomes scarce in any country that is taken up for coffee.

The next source of loss which calls for observation is that arising from the system of giving advances to labourers and to maistries—the name for a class of men who take large sums to advance to coolies, and are paid a commission on the number they bring in. The planters have lost large sums from this pernicious and troublesome system, and in the remarks previously made on planters' grievances, the reader will find allusions to the existing legislation on the subject, and the need for fresh legislation to grapple with the evils arising out of giving advances for labour. Sometimes the coolies die, and the money is lost altogether; sometimes, and not unfrequently, they abscond, and in the latter case it is such a difficult matter to trace them that the planter simply resigns himself to the loss of the money. Then as regards money advanced to maistries to bring coolies, somewhat similar difficulties occur. The maistry may die, he may abscond, and sometimes he advances to coolies who decamp and take advances from another planter or his maistry. In short, whether the planter advances directly to coolies, or to maistries to bring coolies, he finds himself involved in a mixture of losses and worries and uncertainty as to getting through his various works at the proper time.

Now nearly every human system is calculated to serve some purpose, and arises out of a greater or lesser degree of necessity. But it sometimes happens that the original causes for the system have either disappeared or very largely vanished, and that the system goes on by the force of custom—very strong in all countries, and especially so in the East. And thus it is with the advance system. When labour was as low as 2 rupees 4 annas a month (which was the rate I paid at first), it was quite impossible that a man could, within any reasonable time, save enough money to pay the expenses of a marriage; thus borrowing became a necessity, and the labourer therefore mortgaged his future labour, the sole security he had to offer. The lender was, of course, always a man who wanted work done, and by lending the required money obtained a certain command over the labourer. In the early days of planting the local labourers were always in debt to some native employer, and when they wanted to come to a European plantation the owner of it had to pay off the sum owed by the labourers, and when these labourers' sons wanted to marry it was customary to advance enough for the purpose, and sums of from 20 to 40 rupees a head were thus advanced, and, in the end, many thousands of rupees were thus lent to the labourers, and led to the losses I have described. But in these days, when labour has risen to 7 rupees a month, and the labourer can live on about 2 rupees a month, he can save in a single year nearly enough for his marriage, and therefore the old necessity for his getting into debt no longer exists, and some years ago I began to give up making advances for marriages, and find that I am still well supplied with local labour; and I feel sure that if other planters would only follow my example, the advance system would gradually be reduced within small limits, and thus one great source of loss on a plantation would be either abolished or reduced to a minimum.

But besides the advances made directly to local labourers by the planter, there are the advances made by him to maistries to bring in coolies from a distance. In former days the sums advanced were very small, and amounted to little more than a retaining fee of a few rupees a head. But from the competition for labour, or from planters weakly yielding to the demands made on them, the sums so advanced gradually rose to as much as ten rupees ahead, and, of course, the risks of the planter increased in proportion. Now this, of course, is a state of things very difficult to contend against, but I see no reason why some attempt might not be made to reduce these advances to about one-half of their present amount; and I feel sure that if the planters would only agree amongst themselves not to advance more than five rupees a head, they would obtain as many coolies as they do now.

I may remark, finally, that the evils connected with this system, and the great temptation to fraud held out by it, certainly call for the legislation which I have elsewhere alluded to when treating of planters' grievances.

The losses arising from not closely supervising the people employed in minor works; from not having tools sharpened overnight; and from delay in setting the people to work, I do not touch on here, as I have alluded to them in my hints to managers: and the mention of tools reminds me that much loss is often incurred from their careless use, and from neglect in seeing after them, the result of which, of course, is that they are often lost or stolen. Then losses often occur from want of attention to the order in which the various works should be carried out, and which should be influenced by the aspect and the kinds of soil on the plantation. Even if all the work of the plantation could be finished with ease and certainty, it is important to observe the proper order, as to do so is most beneficial to the coffee, and then it should be considered that, should labour from some accident run short, it will at least be certain that the most important parts of the plantation will have been attended to.

Removing moss or rough bark and cleaning the trees should be begun on all northern aspects. Then attend to the low-lying eastern aspects which have the sun off them all the afternoon. Do next the north-western aspects, then the southern, and lastly the due western and south-western aspects, which are so much exposed to the sun that the trees there have little moss on them. The mossing party, it is hardly necessary to mention, should follow the pruners.

Pruning should be begun in the most luxuriantly wooded part of the estate first, and the same order as to aspect should be followed as when removing moss, as it is important to let light as soon as possible into the trees which are on the darkest aspect, and this order will, of course, suit the mossing party, which is, as I have said, always to follow the pruners.

Shade should be thinned in the same order as to aspect as that laid down for the removal of moss, and as soon after crop as possible. The shade cutters should precede the pruners, as, after pruning, the coffee is of course more liable to be injured by falling branches.

Dig all the hottest aspects first, as the soil on these hardens soonest and more severely. Begin with the southern and south-western aspects, then dig the western aspects, then the eastern, and lastly the northern aspects. When all the soil is of much the same degree of stiffness, this order should be followed, but the rule may require to be modified on some estates, where the soil may be of loose character on a southern slope, and of stiffer character on another aspect, in which case the stiff soil aspect should be dug first.

Removing parasites should be done immediately after crop, and at the same time as removing shade, or at any rate before pruning, as the branches with the parasites on them would otherwise injure the coffee. It is important to remove these parasites before they seed, which is about the beginning of the rains.

Young jack fruit removal should be begun about the last week in February. Do not remove the fruit when very small, as the tree will in that case at once blossom again, and the work will then have to be repeated.

Fences should all be in order, and every gap filled up by the time the rice harvest is over, when the natives either never herd their cattle at all, or so carelessly that they are liable to be frequently in the plantation.

As regards weeding, wherever an estate is liable to rot, all the places that are most liable to it should be weeded first, as it is very important to keep the ground quite clean, so that there may be a complete circulation of air across it. Should it be found that any part of an estate is more liable to leaf disease than other parts, then the weeding should be carried out first on the portion of the estate most liable to the disease.



CHAPTER XVII.

THE MANAGEMENT OF ABSENTEE ESTATES.

As many of my readers are no doubt aware, elephants are employed to pile timber in the Government yards, in other words, to arrange the logs one above another, and at equal distances from each other. This they are soon trained to carry out with mathematical accuracy, and all that the mahout requires to do is to rest himself comfortably on some adjacent log and look on, cheering the elephant with his presence, and perhaps throwing in an occasional remark. But sometimes the mahout goes to his dinner, or absents himself for some other reason, and, before he leaves, addresses a few parting injunctions to the elephant to continue his exertions. And at first the animal does so, but not for long does he proceed with his work at the same pace as he did when the mahout was present. He soon begins sensibly to relax. Presently, finding or imagining that there is no prospect of the mahout returning, he stops altogether, and stands for a moment in doubt. Then all doubts seem to vanish, and finally he takes a bunch of foliage and begins to fan himself. Such is the nature of the elephant, and the human animal does not greatly differ from him. Exceptional men there may be, and no doubt also exceptional elephants, but, as the late Sir Charles Trevelyan good-naturedly said to an official in the Madras Presidency, "The fact is, we all require a little looking after." And hence it is that, when the proprietor cannot look after his own property, he finds it always advisable to give the manager an interest in the concern, or some interest which will induce the manager to fan himself in moderation. In the case of tea plantations in India, sometimes a share is sold to the manager, and then he is given time to pay for this out of the profits of the concern. In coffee, sometimes, a salary is given, and a bonus of one rupee a hundredweight on the coffee produced. Then on some estates belonging to a firm, as it was found that this worked unevenly, a bonus of a rupee a head was given on each coolie, which was done to encourage managers to make their estate as attractive to coolies as possible. In one case I know of, the manager is allowed to invest capital of his own in the concern to even as small an amount as 1,000 rupees, and for the sum invested he receives a share in the profits of the estate. The 1,000 rupees are treated as part of the capital of the estate, and whatever the profits may be, the owner of the capital gets his share. If he leaves, his capital is returned to him, or, in the event of death, paid to his heirs. Another plan, and I think the best, is to give a share of the profits in lieu of salary; or, should the manager not like the risk, a salary enough for the manager to live on and a share of the profits besides. But I do not think it wise ever to part with a share in the ownership of the land, as, in the event of the death of a manager, who has been turned into a working partner, a very unsatisfactory state of things is liable to arise. And the original proprietor might, and probably would, have trouble as to the management of the estate, as he would then have to deal with the heirs of the deceased.

It seems hardly necessary to say that a proprietor should exercise great care in the selection of a manager, but the circumstances of the estates in Mysore, which are always surrounded by a native population, and sometimes a very considerable population, are such that unusual care is required when appointing a manager. For in dealing with the people around him, he requires to exercise much tact, and careful circumspection, and great control over his temper, which is often sorely tried. And he needs it all the more for the first few years, because anything new is sure to be attacked and worried. When alluding to the fact that the new comer is exposed to many annoyances, while the old planter seldom is, a native official once said to me, "The new man must submit to being worried and annoyed, and," he added with a laugh, "even to be kicked for four years, and then he may do anything." Any planter, then, settling in a new district requires to act with great care and tact till he passes the four years period, when he may do anything in reason. But unless he has a full control of himself, he will be sure to be involved in squabbles and disputes of a more or less troublesome character, which are injurious to the interests of the estate. And hence there is the greater need for the proprietor being careful in his selection of a manager.

It is very important that, at the outset, a clear understanding should be come to between the absentee proprietor and his manager, so as to prevent disputes and confusion. To avoid these it should be laid down either that the manager is to have full power to act on his responsibility, or that he is to act entirely under the instructions of the proprietor. When the latter understanding is come to, the manager must adhere strictly to the orders of the proprietor, even though the agent may think that he would serve the proprietor's interests better by neglecting the orders, and because, obviously, the proprietor may have reasons for his orders which are not apparent, or only partially apparent, to the manager. In the event of a manager not being disposed to carry out orders to the letter, he should at once resign his situation, as he has no right to receive his pay on the understanding that he is to carry out his employer's wishes, and then fail to do so.

Powers of attorney to managers should be carefully and fully drawn, as it is often of great importance that a manager should have full power to act in the courts as to buying and selling land, and other matters. If the full power of acting on his own responsibility is to rest with the manager, it should be distinctly so stated in the power of attorney. If the power of direction lies with the principal solely, it should be remembered (a fact that is not always remembered, by the way, as I know from my own experience) that, though the manager has the power of acting for the proprietor, he cannot do so in any degree at variance with the instructions received. If, for instance, the proprietor orders that, in the case of a dispute between him and another party, the manager is to call in arbitrators to decide on certain points in a dispute, the manager would have no right to put other points connected with the dispute to the decision of the arbitrators, because he, the manager, might think it would be of advantage to his principal to do so, or for any other reason whatsoever.

The proprietor of an absentee estate is necessarily entirely in the power of his manager; and whatever the number of accounts, reports, and returns may be is of little consequence, as the proprietor cannot get behind them, i.e., he cannot count the coolies that enter the estate in the morning, and that being the case, he is wholly dependent on the honesty of the manager. But the proprietor, it might be urged, can call for the check-roll of people. So he can, but there is nothing to prevent the manager keeping two check-rolls, one to pay the people with and the other to send to the proprietor, and I have heard of this being done. Nor is there anything to prevent a manager representing himself to be present on the estate and attending to his duties, while in reality he may be amusing himself fifty miles away. It is, if a little amusing, certainly very instructive to read in "Balfour's Cyclopaedia"[59] that "coffee is liable to fail from leaf disease, Bug, Borer, and the absence of the eye of the owner," and the statement would have been quite complete had the writer added that it is the absence of the eye of the owner which, in Mysore at least, I may certainly say, is responsible for much of the leaf disease and nearly all the Borer. But the reader will readily understand that money is very easily frittered away in employing large bodies of labourers unless an active personal interest is taken in seeing that full value is obtained from them, and that their efforts are rightly directed. It is no wonder, then, that Dr. Balfour treats the absence of the eye of the owner as an equivalent for the presence of Borer or leaf disease. I know of two estates in Mysore, of about similar size, one of which gave a clear profit of over L5,000 one year, while a neighbouring estate as well situated, and with better soil, yielded a small loss. Both estates were started in the same year. But in the case of the first, the eye of the owner was always present, while in the case of the second, the owner was totally absent for many years, and afterwards only visited his property at long intervals, sufficiently long to enable him NOT to estimate its steady decadence.

Every estate should have an information book,[60] so complete that, in the event of a new manager being appointed, he should hardly have to ask the proprietor a single question. The book should either be type written, or written in a hand as clear as type, should of course be paged, and have a well drawn up table of contents, and a blank page opposite every written page, for the insertion of notes and observations. The book should give, firstly, a history of the estate, then a list of the various fields, the dates on which they were planted, a description of the soil of each field, and an account of the manures put down in it, with notes on the results observed from the various manures applied. A list should be given of the native staff, and of the character and capabilities of the individuals comprising it, their pay and length of service, and also of those amongst the work people who would be likely to make good duffadars. The experience of the estate as to the order and way in which the various works should be done should be carefully recorded. A section should be devoted to observations made when visiting neighbouring estates, as it is of the greatest importance to record all the local experience and opinions. Remarks should be made as to the best means of obtaining transport either for the estate or carrying coffee to the coast, and as to how and where anything and everything the estate may require can be procured. The dates of feasts and holidays should be entered, and a section should be devoted to financing the estate, accounts and rates of pay, and the advances given by the estate to coolies, or maistries. Another section should be devoted to giving a complete inventory of all the tools, sawn timber, machines, carts, cattle, bungalow furniture, in short, everything on the property. And a section should be devoted to lines, or coolie houses, and sanitary precautions regarding them. Careful record should also be entered of all the coffee sold, and the prices obtained for it, and remarks as to the changes, if any, in the quality of the produce, as such changes would perhaps throw light on the treatment of the property, and the manurial system most advisable.

The dates on which vegetables should be put down, and the kinds most suitable to the locality, and the best method of growing them should also be noted, as well as the most suitable kinds of fruit, and the most desirable kinds of ornamental trees. The rainfall register should also be given, as well as any other information of interest, as for instance, a list of game shot from the estate.

Much of the above kind of information exists on estates, but it is either buried in diaries or accounts, and, in short, is not in a readily available form. When preparing my own information books I was especially struck with their value as books of reference, and found my first one of use even before I had completed it. Notes soon accumulate, and in the course of about three or four years it will generally be found that a new edition is required. The book is especially valuable when you wish to hear the opinions of any planter whose experience you would like to compare with your own. In that case, instead of much talk ending perhaps in no very clear result, you can ask that the information book should be glanced over and a note made opposite any point as to which the experience of the person you wish to consult may differ from your own. I was particularly struck with the advantage of my information book when an eminent agricultural chemist once paid a visit to my estate. I handed it to him and asked him to be kind enough to look over the section relating to manures, and make any notes he thought fit on the conclusions arrived at. He presently came to me with the book marked here and there with brief yes, no, or, perhaps, memo.'s. I then took my note-book, and in a very short time wrote down his opinions as to the conclusions I had come to.

An absentee proprietor should have the information book written in duplicate and keep one copy with him, and in this he should write his opinion as to how it would be advisable to deal with the property in the event of his death. The book, I need hardly add, would be of the greatest value to the proprietor's heir, as with it he would be the master of the manager, while without it the manager would be the master of the new proprietor.

Another great advantage arising from the information book is that it does away with all possibility of misunderstanding. There can be no "Oh, I understood this, or thought you wanted the other," or, "Oh, I was not informed, and now that I know what you want." In short, there can be no room either for disputes or excuses with a well-kept, written up to date, information book.

The following hints may prove useful to young planters, or managers, but, as it will be more convenient, I shall use the word manager solely, and the reader will understand that in the term manager I include planters who are their own managers, or who, in other words, do not employ a manager.

When the Duke of Wellington was asked by Lord Mahon (afterwards the Earl Stanhope) to what he attributed the success of his campaigns, the Duke replied, "The real reason why I succeeded in my own campaigns is because I was always on the spot. I saw everything and did everything for myself." Managers should remember this secret of success, and remember that, when they give orders they must always go and see that they are carried out, and if they do not do so, they may certainly rely on their orders being imperfectly, or inefficiently executed. And here I am reminded of a case to the point which happened one morning. My manager had ordered some top soil to be laid on one of the roads in the plantation, and on this bonedust was scattered, the intention being that each basketful of top soil should contain a certain proportion of the bonedust. On passing the spot on the way to look at some other work my manager dismounted, and said, "if you will remain here for a moment I will rejoin you." Then he went down into the coffee to look at the application of the manure. During his absence I overheard a woman say to the man who was filling her basket, "You have put no bones in my basket." This called my attention to the subject, and I then observed that the bonedust had not been scattered right up to the edges of the top soil, which overlapped the deposit of bonedust by about a foot, and hence her basket, which was being filled from the edge of the heap (which was a flattened one), contained no bonedust, or but a very little of it, and the result of this, of course, would be injurious to all those trees which had been deprived of the proper share of bones, or got none at all. This may seem a trifling matter, but it will illustrate and enforce my suggestion as to the necessity of being always on the spot, and it is the attention to, or neglect of, all these apparently trifling matters which, in the total, makes estate management either a success or the reverse. What I have said will also illustrate the fact that coolies, who to those who do not understand them, appear so lifeless and uninteresting, do take an interest in what is going on, and this poor woman, as the reader will have observed, was defending my interests, and remonstrating with the duffadar (native overseer) as to the way in which the manuring was being carried out, at least so far as her share in the work was concerned at the moment. I do not think I could add anything further as to the necessity of being always on the spot, though I may as well mention that one planter of long experience once said to me, "Every day that a man is off his estate is a loss to him."

Managers are apt to neglect seeing to the execution of the minor works of an estate, and it is there that there is often a great leakage of money, and, what is often of more importance, waste of labour which is required for pushing forward other works. I will take, for instance, the people sent off to gather leaves for littering the cattle sheds. I have found by personal inspection that, unless closely looked after, much of this labour will be lost, and the same is sure to be the case with the people employed in other minor works. To keep the people employed in minor works up to the mark the manager should always visit them daily, and, besides, pay them a surprise visit three times a week.

Another source of leakage on an estate, and not an inconsiderable one, arises from tools not being sharpened over night, or by some one before the arrival of the people, and nothing is more common than to see a group of coolies hanging round the grindstone in the morning waiting to have their axes or knives sharpened. Ten minutes may here easily be lost, and on six men this leads to the loss of one hour's work. Then time by a slow manager is often lost in getting his gangs under weigh and setting them to work. Where the work can be done by contract, or task work, this does not of course matter, but such work as pruning, shade tree thinning, etc., cannot be tasked, and delay in setting to work is then a serious loss, partly in direct money, and partly from work delayed which it may be very important to push on.

Managers should always carry note-books and take down at once anything they may wish to remember. They should afterwards take out the principal points, enter them on a slip of paper and put it on the writing table, for, as the native saying goes, "A good memory is not equal to bad ink" for recording a fact. Points or facts of more especial interest should be at once entered on the blank leaves of the information book to which I shall presently allude. When visiting other estates managers should always note down any points of interest, and especially as regards manuring and the effects of shade trees on the coffee.

Managers, in the case of a large estate, should never walk along the roads, unless of course for a very short distance, but only amongst the coolies at work, or when inspecting work done, or laying out fresh work. For these purposes all the strength and freshness of the managers are required, and it seems superfluous to observe that a tired man is seldom a good observer, or rather in a good state for observing. On a steep estate the manager should dismount on the upper road and walk downhill to his coolies, and send his horse down to the lower road so as to avoid climbing the hill.

Managers should be careful of their health, make it a rule always to change at once the moment they come in, and see that their food, however plain, is of good quality and well cooked. They should take remedies immediately at the first indication of disorder, and should be very careful to attend to the directions in the preceding section, and avoid all unnecessary fatigue, as it is when over fatigued that a man is most liable to the inroads of disease.

It is very important to, as soon as possible, make a beginning, however small, as regards any work, even if it should have to be discontinued for a time on account of other works coming in the way. For the beginning stands there as a reminder that the work has to be done, and the proverbial first step has been taken.

It is also important so to arrange work that parties may be within easy reach of each other, as this of course lightens the work of supervision.

When visiting a working party the manager should not trouble himself so much about the work being then done, but should occupy most of his time in examining the work of the previous day, and he should see that the duffadars are not merely staring at the coolies as they work, but that they are examining the work that has been done. When pruning, for instance, the duffadar should move from one end of the line to the other examining as he goes the trees just finished by the people. It is hardly necessary to say that a fluent command of the vernacular is of the utmost, or I may say, of the most indispensable importance, for, as an old planter once said to me, "A native thinks that a European who can't speak the language is a perfect fool." The reader will find a chapter in the "Experiences of a Planter" on learning languages by ear, and I regret that I cannot, from want of space, insert it in this volume.

FOOTNOTES:

[59] "The Cyclopaedia of India, and of Eastern and Southern Asia," by Surgeon-General Edward Balfour. Third edition. London: Bernard Quaritch, 15, Piccadilly, 1885.

[60] And so should every estate in England, and every business, too.



CHAPTER XVIII.

THE PLANTER'S BUNGALOW, AND THE AMENITIES OF AN ESTATE.

The best form of bungalow is, in my opinion, one with the rooms in a row and an open veranda ten feet wide running around three sides of the house. The veranda at the back should also be ten feet, but there it would require to be partially inclosed, partly for bathrooms, and partly for a store-room for household supplies. The advantage of this form of bungalow is that the wide veranda is a pleasant place to sit in, and walk up and down in the rainy season, and besides, if an additional room is required, a temporary partition may be put up, and should a permanent addition to the accommodation be necessary, a portion of the veranda at the end of the bungalow may be built up. Such a form of bungalow, too, can easily be added to in length.

Willesden paper should be put under the tiles, as it prevents leaks, keeps the wood of the roof largely free from the influence of damp, and the bungalow, too, in the monsoon months. For bedrooms I should recommend glazed tiles, and for the dining-rooms and verandas, unglazed square red tiles, fringed at the edges of the room with two or three rows of glazed tiles. I do not recommend the latter for any place where there are many people moving about, as I have found that the glazing soon becomes injured.

It is generally the custom to have the kitchen at some little distance from the bungalow, but I do not think that this is a good arrangement, partly because it is inconvenient in the rainy season, and partly because the kitchen is apt to be turned into a resort for horsekeepers and loungers. The plan I have adopted is to have the kitchen and the go downs in a wing running at right angles to the west end of the bungalow, and with the kitchen door facing the back veranda. This arrangement is most convenient for the servants, and enables the master of the house to have the kitchen under easy observation, so as to see to its cleanliness, and prevent its being made a place of common resort. The dirt and disorder usual in an Indian cook room is well known, but there is no reason why it should not be kept as neat and clean as an English kitchen. The floor should be paved with square tiles, and I believe it would pay well, for economy of fuel, and ready supply of hot water, to have a small Wilson range (227, High Holborn—range No. 11 is a convenient size). Owing to the shape of the ground it may not be convenient to have the kitchen and go downs built as a wing of the bungalow, and in that case they should be opposite the back of the bungalow, and connected with it by a covered way. No drain should be made out of the kitchen or scullery. I have found it cheaper, and safer, from a sanitary point of view, to have all the dirty water used for watering purposes. I have a group of orange trees on a slope near the kitchen, and above each tree a hole is made. Into this the dirty water is poured for several days. Then the pit is closed with earth, and others are used in succession. I thus get rid of a nuisance in a wholesome way, and at the same time water the orange trees.

The aspect of the bungalow is of great importance. It should front due north, as the declination of the sun is southerly during the cloudless season, and the sun is thus entirely off the front veranda, and if the situation should not be naturally well sheltered from the east, a solid block of casuarinas should at once be planted on the eastern side, as the easterly wind is disagreeable, and liable to create drafts, and consequently cause chills. A line of casuarinas should be planted on the south and west side of the bungalow, and at such a distance as to cast a shadow on to the southern and western walls, and also on to the roof, as this will keep the house much cooler than it would otherwise be. Other trees might be suggested for this purpose, and trees affording more coolness, but I have suggested the casuarina as it is a quick grower, very ornamental, and not at all liable to be blown down. No carriage drive should be made up to the front of the bungalow, as it is obviously much pleasanter to look out of the veranda on to a pretty garden without a road intervening, and carriages should either drive up to the back of the bungalow, or to one end of it where a wide space may be left for turning. I have said that a line of casuarinas should be planted on the southern and western sides of the bungalow so as to shade it from the sun, and I would suggest that, in order to keep the ground on these aspects cool, orange trees should be thickly planted, and I may mention that I have done this with excellent effect on the southern side of my bungalow. When orange trees are planted for this purpose they should either not be allowed to bear fruit, or but a very small number of oranges, as the object of course is to have, for ornamental reasons, fresh looking trees, and full of foliage, so as to keep the ground near the bungalow as cool as possible.

The bungalows in Mysore are usually built on the grass land outside of the plantation, and where this is practicable it should always be done, as, from the value of the coffee land, much of it cannot be spared for planting, whereas in the open, as the land is of little value the planter can, by planting clumps of casuarinas and other trees, make his residence so much more agreeable and cheerful. But sometimes it is advisable or even necessary to have the bungalow in the plantation, and in that case the most must be made of the situation, and vistas cut here and there through the shade trees so as to let in the best available views. It should be remembered, a fact too often forgotten, that, what are called in Scotland the amenities, are not only agreeable in themselves, but have an important marketable value, and when people discover that the winter on a Mysore plantation is one of the pleasantest climates in the world, and have practically realized the ease with which the journey may now be made, a plantation will be often regarded (as I regard mine) as a pleasant winter home. And, whatever it may be regarded as, it is certain that an intending purchaser of coffee property on which he proposed to reside would naturally, and perhaps unknown to himself, be influenced by the amenities of the estate.

As regards the garden in front of the bungalow, it should of course be limited to such an amount as may be within easy command of the water available. Roses should be freely used, and violets, mignonette, geraniums, and phlox, while the edges of the veranda should have some crotons and ferns in pots. I have given this limited list because it contains all that is necessary to make a place reasonably presentable, but many additions may of course be advantageously made.

I need hardly say that it is very desirable to place the bungalow as close as possible to the points where the near presence of the planter is advantageous. These are the pulping-house, store, drying-ground, nursery, vegetable garden, and orchard. I have two estates where this desirable combination exists, and by the exercise of a little care and time to study the situation, it may often be carried out; but the best site for the bungalow cannot sometimes be discovered without a residence of some duration on the estate, and it is of great advantage in making a new plantation to defer for some time building a permanent bungalow. For all practical purposes a house with sun-dried brick walls, and a roof of rough jungle wood, will answer very well for some years, and during that time a careful study of the land will generally disclose a much better site than one might at first be disposed to select. And I speak with personal experience on this point, as, had I built a permanent house on the site I at first selected on my head estate, I should certainly have had cause for regret. At first sight it may seem that the proximity of the bungalow to the drying-ground is not desirable, but the drying-ground, estate office, store, and other buildings may, by planting, be completely and quickly screened off from the dwelling-house. The permanent bungalow should be built of brick, but all steps should be made of stone, and not of brick, as is so commonly done, as the stone is so much more suitable in a climate which is wet for so many months of the year. It is very advisable to keep a bungalow cool at night, so that you may be able to have a cool house in the day, and in order to effect this a free admission of air is necessary, and the doors of the dining-room certainly should have wire gauze doors as well. The wooden doors may then be left open at night. The bedroom doors that open into the verandas should have the same too, for, though this is not quite so necessary, it is a great comfort to have plenty of air, and yet be able to exclude cats, rats, or snakes.

Building materials should be constantly collected—stones, stone-posts, the wood-work of native houses which is sometimes for sale; and a careful eye should also be kept on all the felled wood left in the plantation, as this is often overlooked till it partially decays, and it is very apt to be stolen. Trees with a central dark wood, like Jack, may be left unsawn for some years, but trees which have not, like Neeral or Mango, should be sawn up as soon as they are dry. Sawn wood should be brought home at once and stored in a house sheltered from the east wind which dries up the wood extremely, and a careful list should be kept of it. Wood for rafters is the better for being put into a tank and left there for four or five months. I may explain that stone posts (we use the literal translation from the Kanarese) are blocks of from 8 to 12 feet in length, which are raised by fire by an ingenious process. The natives first light fires on the slab of sheet rock they desire to operate on, and then cut small holes along the segment they wish to split off. They then drive wedges into the side of the rock, and the segment splits off, giving a stone post of the length required (they may be raised as long as 20 feet) and about 18 inches wide and 5 inches thick. There are no more useful things to have a supply of on an estate, and we use short ones for the posts of wire fences and for stiles. They are particularly useful for supporting verandas.

To prevent white ants attacking the roofs of buildings I have successfully used the following mixture. Tar, one pailful; asphalte, 2 lbs.; and castor oil, one seer. Mix and boil these ingredients. Afterwards add sand. Then plaster the mixture on the top of the walls to the depth of about two inches, and on this place the wall plates. This plan was adopted when one of my bungalows was re-roofed many years ago, and we have not a sign of white ants, though they are numerous all around the house.

If posts, when put in the ground, are buried in sand, and surrounded with it up to the level of the floor, white ants will not attack the wood, as they cannot apparently work in sand. This is important to remember, as wooden posts are often used for cattle, and other sheds.

Toddy trees past yielding toddy should be cut down, split into convenient sizes for reapers and other purposes, and should then be smoked to preserve the wood. As I previously pointed out, the toddy tree (Caryota Urens palm) is a most useful tree, and the seeds of it should be freely sown in the fences, waste jungle, and the bottoms of deep ravines, but it is not a desirable tree to have in the plantation.

Wood for handles should be kept in store, as it is of great importance to use well seasoned wood. Jack roots are valuable for all short handles.

Lines, or rows of houses for labourers should be made of sun-dried bricks, and roofed with corrugated iron. For sanitary reasons they should, if possible, be divided over several sites. The manager should occasionally visit the lines, and a duffadar be appointed to see after them, and that no dirty water is thrown down in front of the doors. The houses should be numbered, and a list of the occupants kept. New arrivals should be at once reported, as bad characters are often harboured in the lines. A pensioned sepoy might be advantageously employed to look after the lines, and report on new arrivals, and also keep an eye on persons who may be suspected of stealing coffee. The advantage of employing a stranger for such purposes is obvious, as natives residing permanently in the locality are much afraid of making enemies, whereas a fresh pensioned sepoy might be got in from time to time, and he should be changed before he had time to make any friends on the estate. An application for a sepoy should be made to the officer in charge of pensioned sepoys in Bangalore. These pensioned sepoys might also be employed with advantage in the crop season, with the special object of preventing coffee robbery from the plantations, which are often surrounded with villages.

As regards coolie lines, it is important to consider aspect, and a slight slope towards the east, or slightly south, is a good one, as it catches the first rays of the sun, and so reminds the people of their duties in coming early to work, and enables them to warm themselves when the mornings are chilly. Such an aspect is also sheltered from the south-west monsoon blasts, and, in the hot weather, from the heat of the westering sun.

When I look at a magnificent row of Casuarinas (Casuarina Equisetifolia, the Tinian pine or Beefwood) which I planted on my property about the year 1859, and which are now about 150 feet high, and consider the value of this tree, both for timber and firewood, I stand astounded at my own stupidity in not having planted them on a considerable scale. But it is thus in all new countries where you are surrounded by trees, and it is difficult to believe that, under such circumstances, timber and wood can ever become dear and scarce, and the Englishman rarely plants trees for timber or fuel,—in fact, I am the only one who has done so as far as I am aware—and perhaps they do not realize, being born in a land of slow timber growth, how rapidly some trees shoot up in Mysore. It may encourage planting if I mention that I took careful measurement by line of one of the row alluded to. In January, 1882, the height of the tree was 153 feet, in girth near the ground, 5 feet 8 inches; at 50 feet, 3 feet 8 inches; and 1 foot 6 inches at 100 feet. In February, 1884, the same tree was in girth at 4 feet from the ground, 5 feet 3 inches; at 50 feet, 4 feet 5 inches; and at 100 feet, 2 feet 3 inches. In March, 1886, this tree, at 6 feet from the ground, was 5 feet 4 inches in girth; at 77 feet, 3 feet 2 inches; and at 100 feet, 2 feet 3 inches. This tree was again measured in February, 1893, when its dimensions were found to be as follows. Height, 154 feet. Girth at 3 feet from ground, 6 feet 3 inches; at 6 feet, 5 feet 10 inches; at 77 feet from ground, 2 feet 9 inches; and at about 20 feet from the top of the tree, 1 foot 2 inches.

The wood is very strong, and may be used for rafters. It makes excellent fuel, giving much heat, and little ash.

The Grevillea Robusta—Silver Oak—should also be planted, as it affords excellent firewood.

And Poinciana Regia—the gold Mohur, which is also good for making Charcoal. Pithecolobium saman, the rain tree, should also be planted, as I find that (Report of Government Gardens, Bangalore, for 1888-89) "In good open soil it grows more rapidly than any introduced trees." I have an Eucalyptus Globulus (the blue gum) growing fairly well on my property, and about eight or nine years old, but, as it is unfavourably reported on for Mysore in the Report previously mentioned, I do not recommend it.

Casuarinas should be planted in holes four feet deep, and certainly not less than that depth if a safe and rapid growth is desired. I have been particularly struck with the great difference in the rapidity of growth where the holes have not been deeply dug. The plants will require a little water during the dry weather of the first year.

As the most important part of a planter's capital is his health, it is obvious that great pains should be taken to conserve it, for, though Mysore will be found to be a very healthy country if ordinary precautions are taken, the extremes of temperature are very great—often cold in the morning—very hot in the sun in the middle of the day, and often turning suddenly cold again at sunset. In England the lowest Mysore temperature would not be called cold, but relatively to the heat of the day it is so. Then the east winds, if you get heated to the extent of perspiration, are apt to produce that chill which is the starting point of illness in most countries. For a great many years past I have, as a matter of curiosity, which has since become a matter of habit, always asked when told of the death of anyone, "Did he not get a chill?" And I have almost invariably found the answer to be in the affirmative. When, then, a planter comes in, he should make it a rule always to change his things from head to foot, and he should avoid sitting in drafts when the wind is from the east. When he goes out shooting he should take a spare flannel shirt with him, change his shirt when suitable opportunities occur, and, of course, dry the one he has taken off in the sun. He should always take a cover coat with him to put on, when, after a hot day in the sun, he may have to ride home in the chilled evening air. As a protection against the sun there is nothing better than a coat padded with cotton all down the back and front, and with a stand up padded collar. Some people prefer large solar topees. I dislike them, as they heat and oppress the head, and always prefer a light topee and an umbrella. It is well known that the head is affected more through the eyes than in any other way, and smoked glasses should always be used when going along unshaded roads, and especially across dried grass lands. Over fatigue should be avoided as much as possible, and the effects of it done away with immediately. When tired do not call for brandy or whisky and soda-water, but if you feel that you require anything to keep up the system, a plateful of soup, made with one of Brand's beef preparations, will be found to be far preferable. Then a bath, and an hour in bed will turn you out a fresh man fit for anything, mentally or bodily, and you will be able to eat a good meal with appetite and advantage. The best kind of clothing is light tweeds, such as might be used in England in warm summer weather. Cholera belts, or cummerbunds, are often recommended, but I much prefer thick, short flannel drawers coming rather high up over the middle of the body. You thus admit free ventilation, and at the same time avoid risk of chill about the loins.

Next to protecting the body from without, or perhaps of equal importance, is fortifying it from within. Here the first point of importance is to get a good cook who is a good baker, and supply him with American flour. Toddy from the sago-palm is an excellent substitute for yeast, and I imagine it must be better, for I never get better, and very seldom as good, bread anywhere in the world as I do in my Indian home in the jungle. The flour usually to be bought in India, made from wheat grown in the country, is either bad or adulterated, and often has sand in it, and the bread made from it is of poor quality. As regards food, there is no difficulty in Mysore, and at a moderate cost as good a table can be kept as could be desired for purposes of health and comfort. Attention should, of course, be paid to having a good vegetable garden, in which a good supply of lettuces and tomatoes should form a principal feature, and during the wet weather months, when vegetables cannot be procured on the spot, tinned vegetables should be used. I have found the French tinned vegetables to be the best. There are now many excellent preparations of herrings preserved in tins, and these should be used occasionally. Ghee is commonly used in India for cooking, but for all dishes for which it is suitable, oil is much cheaper and better. Gingelly oil (Sesamum Orientale) is the best, or, I think, the only oil which is good for this purpose. It is, I find, by the article on oils in the "Encyclopaedia Britannica," the finest culinary oil in the world, and superior to olive oil, for which, indeed, it is commonly sold, and large quantities of the seed go to Southern Europe. The seed should be procured and washed in cold water to remove the red epidermis, and then a native oil-maker may be got in to prepare the oil. When ghee, or clarified butter, is required, never buy that article in the bazaar, but buy the best native butter and have it made into ghee. Boil the butter, and add to it a small quantity of sugar and salt, and skim off floatage. If to the clarified butter some fresh milk is added, it may be used for the table instead of butter, but it is better, I find now, to use tinned butter.

Cleanliness in the kitchen, and vessels in good order, are points easily talked about, but cannot be attained without some inspection, and the kitchen and its utensils should be examined from time to time. People who are particular have all the pots and pans ranged out ready for inspection daily, and such inspections are most necessary for health, as the dirty habits of the native servants are such that persistent vigilance is requisite. And I may here add that there is no use in telling the servants a thing once—they must be told again, again, and again. At last they give in to your persistence, and being, like most people in the world, a good deal creatures of habit, go on fairly well. It is only fair to the native servants to mention that, if they do keep things in a dirty state, it is often because they have not the means that servants have at home. The water supply at their command is commonly very deficient, and often not over clean, and they are generally ill supplied with places to wash up in, and with dusters and glass cloths, and then they are rated, and often abused, because plates are badly washed and things in general dirty.

Under the heading of health requisites, I, of course, include literature. This, for a planter of moderate means, is generally a matter of great difficulty, and must continue to be so till the railway system is extended to the planting districts. At present novels that cannot be read more than once are quite out of the question on the score of cost, and, under the circumstances, the planter should content himself with buying Scott's and Bulwer's and George Eliot's novels. He should, of course, have a good Atlas, an Encyclopaedia—Chambers' is good and moderate in price, and Balfour's "Cyclopaedia of India," which contains much valuable and interesting information. He might also buy Lecky's Works, and Sir John Strachey's "India," and Buckle's "History of Civilization," for, whatever the faults of the last may be, the writer's style is admirable, and the book stirs up thought and inquiry in the mind. Addison's "Spectator," as it is commonly called, Amiel's "Journal," and Locke's "Conduct of the Understanding," might also be bought. Ville's "Artificial Manures" should be procured and studied. Then for newspapers, I may certainly recommend "The Spectator," "The Mail," or tri-weekly edition of the "Times," and "The Illustrated London News"—not the thin paper edition of it, which is most unsatisfactory in every way. One of the best, if not the very best of Indian papers is the "Madras Mail," and that should certainly be taken, more especially as there is much planting intelligence in it. A note should be kept of the various books reviewed in "The Spectator," and of any books the reader might fancy to buy, and Smith's lists of second-hand books, and also the lists of Messrs. Mudie and Co., should be procured, and from these booksellers books may often be bought at a very moderate price. Do not buy cheap editions of novels, but buy the original three volume editions, which have good paper and print, and which may be bought second-hand at most moderate prices.

It is of great importance that a planter should have some pursuit which may be both useful and interesting, such as botany, natural history, or geology, and drawing, too, would be most valuable. In the old days sport filled up our leisure hours, but that, in these days, is not always to be had without going far afield, as, from the number of guns in the hands of the natives, the game within their reach has been mostly destroyed. It is of great value, then, to have some pursuit to fill up time when there is not enough of it to spare to go to a distance from home for sport. Attending to, and taking an interest in a garden is a great resource, and indirectly a source of great pleasure, which I am reminded of as I write these lines, and at the same time listen to the warbling of the Bulbuls in the flower garden in front of my bungalow. These charming little birds are very active, and are now (February 28th), collecting materials for building their nests. There are, too, many charming warblers which are attracted by a garden so arranged as to attract birds. The beds in the foreground should consist of a mixture of flowers and standard roses, and those at the back of various flowering shrubs, and low trees which are suitable for the birds to nest in. I have no carriage road in front of the bungalow, and with this arrangement can have the beds quite close to the foot of the steps of the inclosed veranda. I am much struck with the persistent loquacity of these Indian birds, and at no time of day—not even for a minute—is the sound of birds absent, and their notes are to be heard all through the fine weather.

It is very advisable to take up waste paddy fields, i.e., abandoned rice terraces, for cattle grazing, and I may point out that this is also of advantage to the amenities of an estate, by providing snipe shooting close at hand. It will also be found of advantage for feeding ducks and geese. I have a stretch of such land on one of my properties, and find it most useful. The water, I may add, should be carefully conducted to the various terraces, just as if they were to be cultivated with rice, this, as I need hardly say, being necessary for the snipe. Amongst these scraps of hints, which may be useful, I may mention the fact that tealeries were once common in India. I am told that they are easily established, though I have, myself, no experience of them. It is sometimes possible to add to the amenities of an estate by reserving pieces of land for tigers to lie up in, and this is very important, now that every scrap of land is being taken up for planting either coffee or cardamoms, and that cover for game is becoming proportionately scarce. There are two such pieces that I have reserved on my estate for tigers, but care must be taken beforehand to see that such reserves are on the exact route by which tigers cross from one part of the country to another. For instance, the pieces I have reserved are about three miles apart, and I have never known or heard of a tiger being between them excepting on one occasion last year, when a royal tiger inspected a cattle shed of mine about five minutes' walk from the house. At first sight it seems singular that these animals, like hares, should have their runs, and still more that the runs should be so regularly adhered to, though they may be several miles apart.

In concluding this chapter, and my remarks on planting, I have only to observe that, if a planter chooses to take an interest in everything that is going on around him, and learns to make himself at home in the country, he will find the life both interesting and agreeable. In former times there was, no doubt, a sense of remoteness in the situation, but that, as we have seen, has been considerably removed by the railway extensions of recent years; and when the proposed lines, to which I have alluded in my introductory chapter, are carried out, planters, during the unimportant seasons of the year, may reside either at Bangalore or on the Nilgiri hills (the climate of the latter, taking it all the year round, is the finest in the world), and yet be in full touch with their affairs.

Finally, I may observe that in Mysore we have the great advantage of being out of reach of the faddists of the House of Commons, who, for the sake of their votes, have to be humoured, whether the interests of India suffer or not. There is no chance, for instance, of the opium faddists thrusting a Commission on the Mysoreans, and then making them pay for part of the expenses of the inquiry. The progress of India may be checked by the ignorant or unprincipled action of a party in the House of Commons (and certainly will be checked if the opium faddists are allowed to have their way), but Mysore is free from the only danger that threatens India—the sacrifice of its interests in order to serve party ends in the House of Commons.



CHAPTER XIX.

THE INDIAN SILVER QUESTION.

Since the preceding chapters were written a great and most momentous step has been taken by the Indian Government. On the 26th of June, 1893, the Finance Minister in India announced that a gold standard was to be established, and that the mints were to be closed to the free coinage of silver. This measure, which so profoundly affects the prospects of the producers and manufacturers of India, I am compelled to notice. To do so, however, in an exhaustive manner would be quite beyond the scope of this book, and I shall confine my remarks as much as possible to the points of the subject which bear upon the welfare of those who produce or manufacture anything in India. The reports[61] and papers enumerated at the foot of the page supply me with a large amount of information and opinion, but I must warn those interested in the subject that a complete view of the whole situation, as far as India is concerned, cannot be obtained from them. For some, and in my opinion the most important, points connected with the question, have either not been alluded to at all, or quite inadequately investigated. These defects I hope in some degree to be able to supply from my long experience of the effects of the expenditure of capital in developing the resources of India—and I say in some degree, because I feel sure that a much fuller investigation is required before all the far-reaching effects of this momentous measure can be adequately weighed. I trust, however, that, even in the short space I am devoting to the subject, I shall be able sufficiently to elucidate those points which dominate the situation, and a consideration of which will show that if the Government succeeds in forcing up the gold value of the rupee in the manner proposed, the prosperity of the people, the popularity of our rule, and the state of our trade in the East will be most seriously prejudiced. And now let me begin at the beginning, so that the uninformed reader may have a clear view of the whole subject as far as India is concerned.

The origin of the movement in India with reference to the introduction of a gold standard and forcing up the gold value of the rupee is shortly, and I believe very accurately, stated by Sir Frank Forbes Adam in his evidence given before the Currency Committee; and on November 26th, 1892, he told the Committee that "Though there is undoubtedly dissatisfaction existing among a certain number of those carrying on foreign trade, really the origin of the movement and its true force proceed from the servants of Government." Of this, I think, there can be no doubt whatever; and it is important to remember that this movement did not originate with the people, or planters, or merchants, or manufacturers, or from any section of the producers and traders of India. The servants of the Government had a great and legitimate grievance, because they found that, though rupee prices in India were not to be complained of, they experienced a grievous loss on their home remittances, and it was their persistent agitation which created and maintained the true force of the movement. The agitation they thus originated was joined in by some of the merchants of India, though to what extent does not appear, and I can only say generally that the merchants who did join the movement were small in number. Bombay and Karachi were clearly against any interference with the currency; and from the expression of disappointment which fell from the Hon. Mr. Mackay—President of the Currency Association, Calcutta—with reference to the small number of his supporters, I am led to the conclusion that, with the exception of a certain proportion of Calcutta merchants, occasional individuals in other parts of India, and the servants of the State, all India was, and is, dead against the monetary policy of the Government. Of the twenty-two witnesses examined before the Currency Committee, thirteen were against the Government measure, six in favour of it (four of the latter being Government servants), two doubtful, and one presumably against the measure.

The main features of the measure I take from the statement of the Finance Minister, who, on the 26th of June, 1893, announced the introduction of a Bill "with the object of altering the Indian monetary standard from silver to gold," and who in his next sentence declared that "It is not intended to do more at present than stop the free coinage of silver at the Indian mints, and as a provisional arrangement to provide for the issue of rupees at these mints in exchange for gold at the ratio of 1s. 4d. per rupee."[62] In a subsequent part of his speech Sir David Barbour states "that an arrangement for the receipt of gold at the mints at a ratio of 1s. 4d. per rupee will be made by executive order, and so will the arrangements for the receipt of sovereigns in payment of sums due to Government at the rate of fifteen rupees a sovereign." The current rate of exchange then, and still existing, is about 1s. 3d., and the Government thus proposed, by creating an artificial scarcity of rupees, to force up the gold value of the rupee by one rupee per sovereign. Let us now glance at the cash effects of the measure on the finances of the Government and the prosperity of the people; and in doing so I shall, to aid the comprehension of the English reader who knows nothing of lakhs, or crores, or Rs. x, state the figure in pounds sterling, treating the rupee at its old value of 2s. To do this will not materially affect my statements, for, though some articles have risen in price, others have fallen, and, on the average, the rupee (excepting as regards labourers' wages, which have much risen in many parts of India in recent years) goes nearly as far in India as it ever did, a fact which is fully corroborated by several very competent witnesses examined by the Currency Committee, though one witness maintained that silver prices in India had risen.[63] It may be interesting to note in this connection that the purchasing price of silver in China has remained unchanged for many years past, and that for the last thirty years there has been little change in the purchasing power of the rupee in Ceylon. Both these statements I make on the authority of witnesses examined before the Currency Committee.