At one time cinnamon was the most valuable export of the island, but by 1858 it had so decreased in value by its being produced abundantly in lands still farther east, that comparatively little attention was given to it. I was taken to the public garden in Colombo, and saw the work-people with their sharp knives peeling off the fragrant bark from the cinnamon-tree, and preparing it for the market.

Colombo, the capital, is a large, stirring, rising town. Galle is a much smaller place, and owes its importance to its being a place of call for steamers on account of its sheltered bay. It is noted for its pedlars, men who, with combs in their long hair, and clad in jacket and petticoat, might be taken for women. Their wares of jewellery and precious stones have not a high character for genuineness. Kandy, the old capital in the interior, is a small place, lying very low, and is surrounded by hills. It has a beautiful little artificial lake, and is famous for its temple, with a tooth of Buddha as its great treasure.

During the few weeks I was in Ceylon I was most hospitably entertained wherever I went by missionaries, chaplains, coffee-planters, and others. I shall always retain a grateful recollection of the kindness I experienced. From these friends I heard much about the spiritual state of Ceylon. It is well known the Dutch were the first Europeans who obtained a footing in the island. They determined to stamp out heathenism and establish Christianity, not by violent persecution, but by reserving offices of every description for those who embraced the Christian faith, by treating them in every possible way as a privileged class, and by showing official disfavour to the unbaptized. An agency composed of chaplains, catechists, and schoolmasters was appointed to bring the community within the Christian fold. The work went on with great apparent success. Tens of thousands avowed themselves Christians. It looked as if heathenism was to disappear under Dutch rule. If the Dutch had retained possession of the island, and had persevered in their policy, in all likelihood by this time Ceylon would have been a professedly Christian country, with a strong underlying element of heathen notion and practice.

[Sidenote: BUDDHIST WORSHIPPERS.]

No sooner was the policy of neutrality adopted with the installation of English rule, than this large Christian community melted away, and flowed into the old channel of Buddhism, which had been for ages the religion of the Cingalese. The thousands of Christians were reduced to hundreds and tens. The London Missionary Society early entered the field, but withdrew. In the parts of Ceylon where I travelled I met with Methodist, Baptist, and Church of England missionaries, and in other districts there were American missionaries. The descendants of those who once were professed Christians retain some Christian notions, and adhere to some Christian practices. Baptism is still in favour with them, but it is never administered by Protestant missionaries except to those deemed fitting recipients. If Buddhists were consistent, caste in a mild form and to a limited extent might be tolerated, but could not be approved. They are not, however, consistent, and caste is much more regarded by them than Gautam would have sanctioned, though it has not among them the rigidity it has among the Hindus. I was told regarding one boarding institution for young men, all ate together; but on returning to their homes they performed certain ceremonies which removed the defilement they had contracted. As to the general character of the native Christians, I inferred it was much the same as in India, with similar excellences and similar defects.

I went into some of the Buddhist temples. On the walls were sculptured the terrible sufferings of the wicked in the different hells into which, according to Buddhism, they are cast. The worshippers appeared to me remarkably stolid and listless, as if engaged in a work which could not be too mechanically performed. There was nothing of the animation of the Hindus when they are worshipping their gods.

I went into a large Roman Catholic church, and saw all the usual furniture of Roman Catholic worship. On the wall, the worship of demons by the faithful and their attendance at demon feasts was strongly denounced, and threatened with severe punishment; from which it would appear this was no uncommon offence.

I was struck with the massy churches built by the Dutch in Galle and Colombo. They testify to the zeal of the first colonists, as if they were taking possession of the land for Christ, and were determined to maintain His worship, though far distant from the land of their fathers. Dutch descendants and Scotch colonists now form the most of the worshippers in these places. The Dutch language still survives, and in 1858 some of the Dutch people understood no other. For them a service is held in their own language. I preached in both of these churches at the request of the chaplains. In one of them the Lord's Supper was administered, and the communicants were addressed first in English and then in Dutch.

Towards the end of December I left Galle with my wife and child for Calcutta, taking away with me pleasing recollections of the scenes I had witnessed, the information I had received, and the kindness I had experienced during my six weeks' travels in the island.

After a brief stay in Calcutta we made our way to Benares—the first part of the journey by the recently constructed railway, and the rest, the greater part of it, by a four-wheeled conveyance, drawn by a horse, called a Dawk Garry, arrangement for a fresh horse every sixth or seventh mile being made by the Dawk Garry Company. Instead of spending three weeks on the way, as we had done in 1839 when proceeding to Benares on a steamer, and twelve days in 1853 in a conveyance drawn by coolies, we now completed our journey in five days. We were glad to rejoin our brethren, and to resume our work in Benares.



CHAPTER XIX.

VISIT TO CITIES IN THE NORTH-WEST AND TO KUMAON—VISIT TO ENGLAND AND RETURN TO INDIA.

FROM 1859 TO 1866.

From the time of our arrival at Benares in January, 1859, on to our departure for the hills in March, 1861, the work of the Mission was carried on in the usual way. There were interruptions from failure of health, but during the most of the period the operations of the Mission were vigorously carried on with tokens of the Divine blessing.

[Sidenote: ENGLISH SERVICES.]

The principal change during this period was the greater attention given to the European population. Before 1857 the English-speaking population of Benares was very small, and as there was always an English chaplain at the place, and our Baptist brethren kept up an English service, our Mission did very little in this department. For a time we had an English service one evening in the week, but owing to the weakness of the Mission, and the pressing demands of native work, this had been given up. After the Mutiny the English-speaking population was largely increased by English soldiers, and persons connected with the Public Works. It was deemed incumbent on us to do something for our own countrymen, whose spiritual need was manifest to all. On this account English services on the Lord's Day were commenced. For a time two such services were held, one in the Mission chapel, and another in the schoolroom of the cavalry barracks. On the withdrawal of the cavalry this second service was discontinued. The service on the Lord's Day morning or forenoon in the Mission chapel has been steadily kept on till this time, has been generally well attended, and has been, I believe, productive of much good.

As the Rev. William Moody Blake, who joined the Mission in 1858, took the superintendence of the Central School, and with occasional assistance conducted the English services, the work among the native women and girls was left to be carried on by my wife, to which she had given her heart and strength from the time she became a member of the Mission in 1839, while I had the principal charge of evangelistic work among the heathen, and of ministering to the native Christians.

The most memorable episode of this period was a visit we paid to Allahabad, Cawnpore, and Lucknow, in the winter of 1859-60. We saw much on this tour which deeply and painfully interested us. I have already mentioned the desolation I saw on my visit to Allahabad at the end of 1857. During the two succeeding years the houses which had been burnt had been rebuilt, new houses had been erected, and new roads had been made. Traces of the desolation caused by the Mutiny remained, but there were on every side signs of great prosperity. Allahabad, from its position at the confluence of the Ganges and the Jumna, had always been deemed a place of great importance in both a military and civil aspect. It rose to new importance by being made the seat of government for the North-West instead of Agra, and also by becoming the central railway-station, from which it was arranged railways should ramify to Lahore and Peshawur in the north-west, to Calcutta in the east and south, to Jubbulpore and Bombay in the west, forming in Central India a connection with the railways in Southern India. This arrangement has been carried out, and now there is no city in the interior of the country which bears so close a resemblance as Allahabad to the great Presidency cities, in its churches, European shops, hotels, and roads so lined with houses that they may be called streets. As might be expected, the native population has greatly increased.

From Allahabad we went by train to Cawnpore, one hundred and thirty miles to the north-west. This place was for many years a large military station, as the kingdom of Oude lay on the other side of the Ganges. It may be well to give a very brief narrative of the terrible events which occurred there, that readers may the better understand what we saw.

[Sidenote: MUTINY AT CAWNPORE.]

On the breaking out of the Mutiny, the English soldiers and residents entrenched themselves in an open plain, which had the solitary advantage of accommodation in barracks, while they left the arsenal in the hands of the insurgents. The siege commenced on June 6th, directed by Dundhoo Punt, the Nana Sahib as he was called, the adopted son of Bajee Rao, the ex-Peshwa of the Mahrattas, whose castle was ten miles distant. On June 27th, after enduring terrible hardships and privations, our people surrendered on promise of being sent safely to Allahabad. They accordingly made their way to the promised boats; but no sooner had they been reached than they were set on fire, and the Nana in person directed a fusillade on the party. Only four succeeded in escaping, and they did this by swimming. The men were murdered, the women and children, to the number of two hundred, were taken back, were huddled together in crowded rooms, scantily fed on the coarsest food, and subjected to every indignity. The Nana's army was defeated in several engagements, and was at last utterly overthrown by the army led by General Havelock, in a battle fought at the entrance to Cawnpore. By an order of the Nana, issued by him when fleeing from the place, the women and children were murdered, and their bodies were thrown into a well. Our soldiers arrived to see to their horror the well choked with the victims of Nana's satanic cruelty. Unknown to those whom he was besieging, he had previously, on June 4th, ordered the massacre of one hundred and thirty men, women, and children, who had come from Futtyghur.

[Sidenote: GALLANT DEFENCE AND TERRIBLE DEFEAT.]

At Cawnpore we saw much to sadden us to the very core. The thrilling accounts we had read of the atrocious deeds there committed came to our remembrance with a painful reality. All along the river-side, houses, once occupied by officers, lay in ruins as the mutineers had left them. We observed flowers blooming here and there in the gardens, planted by those who had been so ruthlessly cut down. We visited all the places made memorable by the sad events of 1857. We went to the Sabadha Kothee, as it was called, the house on a slight elevation from which the Nana directed the siege of the entrenched camp. It was well remembered by us as the abode, in 1842, on our first visit to Cawnpore, of a missionary of the Propagation Society, with whom we had much pleasant intercourse. Within less than half a mile of this house lay the entrenched camp of the English—if a trench three or four feet deep, with a breastwork of earth behind it four or five feet high, deserves the name of an entrenchment. The spot was chosen on account of the barracks, in which our people could shelter themselves against what they expected to be a mere temporary assault, if an assault at all was made, as they supposed the mutinous soldiery would leave at once for Delhi, which they would have done had not the Nana stopped them by large pay and larger promises. The barracks speedily became well-nigh uninhabitable under the fire of the enemy. At last they were burnt down, and no shelter remained from the fierce rays of the sun. One could not look on the spot, and consider the weakness of the defenders compared with the strength of the enemy, supplied as they were with the guns and ammunition of our arsenal, without wondering the defence could have been maintained for a day. The defence was most heroic; extraordinary feats of valour were performed, but at last the besieged were obliged to succumb from the failure of food and ammunition.

We walked from the entrenchment, which was rapidly disappearing under the rains and heat of the climate, by the route taken by our people to the promised boats, which were set on fire as soon as they reached them. It was truly a via dolorosa, and we walked on it with saddened hearts, musing on the awful sufferings our countrymen had endured. On a little temple close to the ferry at which the boats lay, and on some houses near it, we saw marks of the bullets on the walls.

Since that period—the winter of 1858-59—we have been on several occasions at Cawnpore. The desolation has disappeared. Ruined houses are no longer to be seen. A stranger might pass through the place without observing anything to remind him of the events of 1857. He would be a very preoccupied or a very stolid person who could pass through Cawnpore without making it a point to see the monuments erected to commemorate our fallen countrymen. On the site of the entrenched camp a memorial church has been raised, with stained windows and varied devices bearing the names of those who had fought and suffered there. A very handsome monument of marble, surmounted by a statue of the Angel of Peace, with a suitable inscription, has been erected over the well into which the bodies of the women and children were thrown. The ground round it is kept in beautiful order. For many a day visitors to India will look with tearful eyes and sad hearts on these spots sacred to their fallen countrymen.



[Sidenote: THE CAMPAIGN IN OUDE.]

Leaving Cawnpore, we crossed the Ganges and travelled forty miles to Lucknow, the capital of the country of Oude, which was ruled by a feudatory of the Mogul Empire, who had become a feudatory of the British Crown. To him our Government gave the title of King. In 1856, by an order from home, the country was taken under our direct rule on account of gross misgovernment, by flagrant and persistent violation of the engagement made with us. The Chief Commissioner in March, 1857, was Sir Henry Lawrence. After staving off the Mutiny successfully for a time, he was obliged in the end of June to concentrate his force in a half-fortified place on a slight elevation, called the Residency, as there the British representative, under the title of Resident, and his official subordinates, had their abode and offices. There the English were besieged by a vast body of Sepoys, and by the Talookdars, the Barons of Oude, and their retainers. Sir Henry Lawrence was mortally wounded on July 4th. The siege was maintained till September 25th, when, after a fierce struggle, it was relieved by Havelock and Outram. They in their turn were besieged, but they were able to maintain their footing till November 19th, when they were finally relieved by Sir Colin Campbell. Outram remained with a force of observation at Alum Bagh, a large garden with a very high wall, outside Lucknow on the Cawnpore road; while the rest held on to Cawnpore. Sir Colin Campbell returned with his army, and took the city on March 6th, 1858. We are told that in the interval it had been fortified in a way which would have done credit to a European power. My narrative will be better understood by these facts being remembered.

As we travelled from Cawnpore to Lucknow we passed houses close to the road which still retained the loopholes through which the enemy had fired on our troops. The earthworks hastily raised for temporary shelter still remained. We were reminded at every mile of the fierce resistance our soldiers had to encounter. At Lucknow we remained for a week, and went over all the scenes made memorable by recent events. We paid several visits to the Residency, where our people defended themselves so long and valiantly against thousands of armed men well supplied with ammunition. At every step proofs presented themselves of the desperate struggle maintained with the foe. The houses in the Residency had been so battered and torn by shells and balls that scarcely one was habitable before its evacuation, and the ruin was completed when the city was finally taken by Sir Colin Campbell. At the beginning of 1859 the whole place was a mass of ruin, with here and there a piece of tottering wall, shaken or perforated by heavy shot and ready to come down. The walls still stood, though in a very broken state, of the house in which Sir Henry Lawrence died, and the spot was pointed out to us where he had received his death-wound. A large body of labourers was employed in taking down the ruined walls and levelling the ground. We observed bones which had been dug up by them as they pursued their work.

From the entrance into Lucknow on the Cawnpore road there is a street, two miles in length, leading straight to the Residency. The enemy expected our army to advance by this street, and made provision for its destruction by digging trenches, and lining the houses on both sides with musketeers ready to pour on our soldiers a killing fire. The relieving army, guided by a person who knew Lucknow well, and had at great risk made his way to them at night from the Residency, made a sudden detour to the right, and advanced by a comparatively open route, stoutly but unsuccessfully opposed at almost every step. I had the promise of a guide to take me on foot by this route to the Residency, but on reaching Alum Bagh, the appointed place of meeting, I found no one there. I made my way, however, with very little difficulty by observing the marks of the bullets on the houses along the line traversed. I sometimes lost the trace, but soon recovered it, musing as I went along on the very different circumstances in which our countrymen a short time previously had gone over that road.



We saw other places of interest, such as the Muchee Bhawan, the fort in which our soldiers were previous to the siege; the Kaisar Bagh, an extensive garden, filled with showy, lofty houses, where the King of Oude and his numerous retinue had resided; the Chuttar Manzil, a handsome building where public entertainments were given; the gateway at which the gallant Colonel Neil fell—now called Neil Gate; the Secunder Bagh, a garden with a high wall, where a large body of the enemy was posted, and which was stormed by the 78th Highlanders, who shut up every exit and killed every soul, many of the Sepoys fighting desperately to the last. Two thousand bodies were taken out of the place and buried in the adjoining ground. We observed on the walls the marks of the bullets, and even the indents made by the swords and bayonets, while this carnage was going on.

[Sidenote: GENERAL LA MARTINE'S INSTITUTION.]

A French adventurer of the 18th century, General La Martine, had risen to great power and wealth in the service of the Kings of Oude. He erected a splendid mansion in Lucknow for the support and education of boys of every creed—Christian boys to be brought up in the Christian Government's religion—and richly endowed it. Similar institutions were established in Calcutta and in Lyons, La Martine's native place. This institution has proved a signal blessing to European and Eurasian families. On the outbreak of the Mutiny the teachers and pupils betook themselves to the Residency, and under the leading of their Principal took an active part in the defence. La Martine had so little confidence in the kings whom he had served for years, that he ordered his body to be buried in a vault under the building, which he knew would prevent a Muhammadan from making it his dwelling-house. This was accordingly done.

While we were at Lucknow we were most hospitably entertained by a missionary of the Church Missionary Society, to whom a large native mansion had been made over by the authorities on account of the owner having taken an active part in the rebellion. On Sabbath I preached in Hindustanee to the native Christians, and we attended the English service held in a building which had been an Imambara, the name given to a building where Muhammadans of the Shiah sect worship.

When going from Cawnpore to Lucknow we travelled by day. We returned by night, when the moon was full. It was one of those calm, clear nights of which we have many at that season. We reached the Ganges about four in the morning. While waiting for a boat to take us across, there fell on our ears, coming from a cluster of huts close by, the voice of a singer at that early hour; and what was our delight and surprise, as we listened, to hear the words distinctly uttered of a well-known hymn in praise of the Redeemer of mankind! A short time previously the mention of that name with honour in that place would have exposed him who uttered it to a violent death. The incident was very cheering as an omen of the dawn to benighted India, when, through the tender mercy of our God, Jesus the light of the world shall shine into the hearts of its teeming population, and raise them into the sunshine of heaven.

Lucknow, as well as Cawnpore, has undergone a great change since 1859. We saw it last in 1877, when traces of the fierce conflict which had been there carried on had well-nigh disappeared; while on every side, in new roads opened up, in miserable tenements thrown down, in new houses erected, and in rubbish removed, evidence was given that the effete government of the Kings of Oude had given place to the vigorous government of their Western conquerors. Nothing is now to be seen of the ruins and desolation of the Residency. The ground has been levelled, trees planted, paths made, and the whole place is kept in beautiful order. On the highest spot there is a memorial cross. All out from Lucknow for miles, at the instance of friends, monuments have been raised, some of them with very touching inscriptions, in memory of the fallen, so far as the spots where they fell could be identified.



We returned to Benares with a very vivid impression of what we had seen, with a new realization of the sufferings our countrymen had endured, with deepened admiration of the heroism they had shown, and with thankfulness at once for our rescue as a people from destruction, and for the restoration of our rule.

[Sidenote: VISIT TO DELHI.]

We continued at our post at Benares till March, 1861, when the state of the Mission admitted of our obtaining a much-needed retreat to the Hills for a few months. We accordingly left Benares for Almora, and took Delhi by the way, where we remained a few days. This was our second visit to the grand old imperial city. On this occasion we visited the scene of the memorable events of the Mutiny year, as we had previously done at Cawnpore and Lucknow. We went to the heights commanding the city, where our army was encamped for months, at once the besiegers and the besieged, and from which at last they took the city, after a contest so desperate and bloody that for days the issue was doubtful. The palace, with its magnificent halls of audience and entertainment, where the Emperors of India had for ages kept their court, we found turned into barracks and an arsenal. English soldiers trod those rooms where Indian magnates had bowed before imperial majesty—giving us an impressive illustration of the transitory nature of earthly glory.

For some time after going to Almora our health improved; but as the season advanced it gave way so entirely, that our medical attendant came to the conclusion a visit to England was indispensable to its restoration. The Directors of the Society gave their kind and prompt consent to our return. We accordingly embarked from Calcutta for England, via the Cape of Good Hope, in January, 1862, and reached our destination in April.

All I have to say about the interval between 1862 and 1865 is that I visited many places in England and Scotland on behalf of the Society, did a good deal of ministerial work besides, and was kept in uncertainty about my future course by medical opposition to my going back to India. In 1864 I feared I could not return; but my health improved so much in 1865, that the medical men I consulted, to my great joy, consented to our going back. We accordingly embarked for Calcutta via the Cape, accompanied by two young missionaries appointed to Benares, in September, 1865, and reached our destination, after a prosperous voyage, towards the end of the year. We were very pleased with the thought that our traversing the Atlantic and Indian Oceans had come to an end.

The railway had some time previously been completed to the North-West, and so instead of days and weeks spent on the journey from Calcutta to Benares, it was now made in twenty-six hours.

[Sidenote: APPOINTMENT TO RANEE KHET.]

The hot weather and rains of 1866 were spent in Benares. We felt the heat that year more than we had ever previously done, and were to a great extent incapacitated by it for the prosecution of mission work. We came to the conclusion that continued work in the plains was beyond our strength, and as we much wished to continue in the mission field, we hoped a hill sphere might be opened up. In March, 1867, we left for Almora, where, with our colleague Mr. Budden, we engaged in different departments of mission labour. Early in the cold weather we returned to Benares, and resumed our work there. As the hot weather of 1868 came on, we were again privileged to return to Almora. Towards the end of that year it was arranged that our connection with Benares should cease, and that we should begin a new mission at Ranee Khet, about twenty miles north-west from Almora.



CHAPTER XX.

KUMAON.

(1) ITS SCENERY AND PRODUCTS.

Kumaon is a sub-Himalayan region, with Nepal to the east, the snowy range, separating it from Tibet, to the north, Gurhwal and Dehra Doon to the west, and Rohilkund to the south. Including the hill country of Gurhwal, and the belt of forest and swamp lying immediately under it, of which only a small part has been reclaimed, Kumaon is about half the size of Scotland.

[Sidenote: THE SCENERY OF KUMAON.]

The province presents a remarkable contrast to the great level country beneath. Over it you travel in some directions hundreds of miles, and scarcely any elevation or depression in the land can be discerned. As you travel northward, and approach the limit of the plains, you see hills rising before you, tier after tier; and behind them, on a clear day, the higher Himalaya, with their snowy peaks, as if touching the heavens.

Kumaon is very mountainous, with as great irregularity as if the land had been fluid, had in the midst of a storm been suddenly solidified, and had then received its permanent shape. Here and there are valleys of some extent, table-lands and open fields are occasionally seen; but over a great part of the province hill is separated from hill by a space so narrow that it can only be called a ravine. The consequence is that cultivation is carried on mainly in terraces. Where the slope is gradual, and the soil fit for cultivation, these terraces, some very narrow and others of considerable width, rise one above the other to the distance of miles, with the hamlets of the cultivators scattered over the hill-side, presenting to the eye of the traveller an aspect of scenery which is not to be seen in Europe, so far as I am aware. At any rate, we saw nothing resembling it on the vine-clad hills rising from the Rhine, or in the mountains of Switzerland.

The country is well watered. It has innumerable streams, varying from tiny rills to large rivers. In travelling, we have been for days within the constant sound of running water. It has a few lakelets, but it has no large bodies of water, like the lakes which contribute so largely to the beauty and picturesqueness of Switzerland and Scotland. It looks as if the deep hollows, of which so many are to be seen, had been unable to retain the water poured into them, and had let it all flow away. A large part of the province is so steep and rocky that it cannot be turned to any agricultural purpose; and even for grazing purposes a large portion is of little use, as the grass is coarse and poor. There is a great extent of forest and brushwood. As the land slopes towards the Bhabhur, the forest is very dense and varied. The timber is of considerable value, but as there is neither road nor water carriage it must be carried on men's shoulders, and this involves an expense more than it can bear.

From what I have said about the peculiarities of Kumaon scenery, its mountains, valleys, and ravines, my readers are prepared to hear it has a great variety of climate and produce. Of hills, of which there are many from 5000 to 9000 feet above the level of the sea, the climate is delightful—warm, but not oppressively warm, a little warmer than it is in our country in summer; and cold, though not so severely cold as it is with us in winter. The rains are very heavy, but to compensate for this there is, during the greater part of the year, a steadiness of climate which forms a striking contrast to the fickle climate of England. Down in the valleys the heat is very great. Even in winter the sun is unpleasantly strong, and in summer in the deep ravines the temperature is almost as trying as in the plains. When the season has been somewhat advanced, I have been very thankful to escape from the heat of these low places to the bracing air of the hills. The English Sanatoria are of course on elevated sites.

As Kumaon has within its borders a cold, a temperate, and a tropical climate, it has a great variety of produce, and when its capabilities are more fully turned to account this variety will be greatly increased. Most of the grains found in the plains are grown in the hills. The warmer parts of the country produce superior oranges in abundance, and there is also a good supply of walnuts. Of late years apples and pears have been grown with great success, and if the farmers paid attention to this branch of horticulture they might reap a large profit. Attempts have been made on a small scale to cultivate the grape, gooseberry, and currant, but the excessive rainfall of the rainy season has been found unfavourable to them. Tea has become the most valuable product of the province. Tea-planting was commenced at the instance of Government, under its direction and at its expense, more than forty years ago; and now tea-gardens are found all over the province, owned almost entirely by our fellow-countrymen, and, with few exceptions, managed by them. At first Chinamen were employed, but they have been dispensed with, and the entire work is now done by hill people under English superintendence.

(2) THE NATIVE INHABITANTS OF KUMAON.

[Sidenote: THE INHABITANTS OF KUMAON.]

The hill people of Central and Southern India, the Kols, the Santhals, the Bheels, and others, as is well known, widely differ in race, language, customs, and religion, from the Hindus and Mussulmans of the plains. In Kumaon, on the other hand, the great majority are strict Hindus, worshippers of the Hindu gods, and scrupulous observers of caste rules. It would appear that when the ancestors of the Hindus, coming from Central Asia, crossed the Indus, and took possession of the country now called the Punjab, they made raids into the lower range of the Himalayas, killing their inhabitants, or turning them into slaves. The descendants of the aborigines are at present found in a class called Doms, who form the artisan portion of the population, and are also largely employed in agriculture. The Muhammadans form a very small part of the population, and are almost entirely emigrants from the plains.

The character of the hill Hindus, in its essential elements, closely accords with that of their brethren elsewhere. They worship the Hindu gods, practise Hindu rites, and are imbued with the Hindu spirit. The Brahmans and Rajpoots are proud of their position, firm in maintaining it, and shrink from everything which would invalidate it. Under native rule the high-caste spirit had full scope, for we are told that for murder a Brahman was banished, and a Rajpoot heavily mulcted; while other murderers were put to death. Such offences against the Hindu religion as killing a cow, or a Dom making use of a huqqa (the pipe for smoking), or a utensil belonging to a Brahman or Rajpoot, were capital offences. The power obtained by the Brahmans was shown by the fact that, when the province came under British rule, one-fifteenth of its arable land belonged to the religious establishments.

All the Hindu gods and goddesses are worshipped in the hills, but the hideous goddess Kalee is the favourite object of worship. Small temples to her honour are found all over the province, many of them in solitary places on the tops of hills, to which it is meritorious to make pilgrimages, and around which at certain seasons melas are held. We have in our wanderings fallen in with several of these temples in spots from which, for many miles around, no human habitation is seen. By far the most famous shrines are those of Badrinath and Kedarnath, in the upper part of Gurhwal, within the snowy range, where Vishnu is the object of worship, and the officiating priests are Brahmans from Southern India. Pilgrimage to these places is very meritorious, as it can only be accomplished at the cost of great toil and suffering, and at the imminent risk of life.



In addition to the gods worshipped all over India, the hill people have local gods unknown elsewhere. Bhoots, evil spirits, commonly supposed to be the spirits of those who have during their earthly life been noted for their wickedness, and have acquired the demon character, are believed to haunt the mountains and forests, and are the objects of special dread. Homage is paid to them to secure their goodwill and avert their vengeance. The people greatly dislike travelling at night, as that is the season when the Bhoots roam about and fall on their prey. When they must move about they break off the branches of the pine-tree, and turn them into torches to frighten off both the wild beasts and the evil spirits. In the imagination which peoples hills and forests with beings outside the circle of humanity, that make their presence especially felt at night, the people of Kumaon closely resemble the mountaineers of other lands, among others those of our own Scotch Highlands, as they were till a recent period. In my early days I heard so many stories in my native Highland village of ghosts and fairies, that I was afraid to move about after sunset except when guarded by others, lest these supernatural beings should lay hold of me and carry me away.

[Sidenote: THE CHARACTER OF THE KUMAONEES.]

The people have a character for industry. When one sees the difficulties under which cultivation is carried on, he is inclined to consider it deserved. They have periods of lounging, but also of very hard work. The women, in addition to household work, cut and carry wood and grass, and do much farm work—I have thought at times more than their share; but after all, the heaviest work, the carrying of great loads on head and shoulders, up hill and down hill, and the farm work requiring most strength, is done by the men. Much of the work done by them—work done by draught animals elsewhere—must tend to break down their health and shorten their days.

The Kumaonees have been described as untruthful but honest. I must say our experience has verified the unfavourable part of this description more than the favourable. So far as veracity is concerned we have not been impressed with any difference between them and other natives of India. We think their honesty has received more credit than it deserves. This is, at any rate, the opinion of the tea-planters with whom we have conversed, and who have had superior opportunities for judging. They have told us of the strict watch they have to set to guard their tea and fruit. We found that some hill servants, whom we had greatly trusted, had systematically robbed us. The character for honesty was, I believe, given to them because when they set out on their periodical migration to the plains they left their villages unguarded, and found their property safe on their return. I suppose this resulted partly from an unwritten—may I say?—honourable understanding, that as in their sparse and widely-scattered population it was well-nigh impossible to guard their goods, the rights of property should be respected; and partly from the circumstance that there was little left behind in the villages which could be carried away. So far as others, especially Europeans, are concerned, this understanding to practise honesty does not hold.

We incidentally heard of no small degree of immorality among the people, but our information is too limited to justify one in comparing them with others in this respect. There is much that is likable among them, but the general moral tone is undoubtedly low. Polyandry, which prevails in some districts in the Western Himalayan range, is I believe unknown, but polygamy is not uncommon among those who can afford it.

Cleanliness has never been considered a virtue of Highlanders. It is not—or perhaps I should say it has not been—a characteristic of the Highlanders of our own land. Among the Kumaonees it is notably wanting. The loathsome disease of leprosy has long prevailed in the province, owing to a large extent to the filthy habits of the people. To the same cause there is every reason to believe, we have to trace the outbreak now and then of the plague—muha muree, the great plague, as it is called—which has proved very destructive. It resembles the plague which at different times prevailed in Europe and swept away thousands. So great is the dread of this terrible malady, that on the report of its approach people flee from their villages. Cholera has been at times fatal to many, but its ravages are not to be compared to those of the plague.

(3) HISTORY OF KUMAON UNDER GHOORKHA AND BRITISH RULE.

[Sidenote: CONQUEST OF KUMAON.]

Kumaon had been long under the rule of a native dynasty, but intestine feuds laid the country open to the attacks of ambitious neighbours. In the latter end of the eighteenth century the Ghoorkhas, a military tribe, rose to power in Nepal, the hill-country to the east, and early in this century they extended their conquests over the hill-country to the west, till they were checked by Runjeet Singh, the famous ruler of the Punjab. Their rule over Kumaon was said to be very oppressive. By raids into British territory they came into collision with the English. After a severe struggle, carried on through two campaigns, they were defeated, and forced to give up the country they had conquered to the west of Nepal, which they had held for about twelve years. Kumaon and the adjoining hill-country of Gurhwal were placed under the jurisdiction of a British Commissioner, and the arrangement made in 1816 has been maintained to the present time.

[Sidenote: PROGRESS OF THE PROVINCE.]

The country has made immense progress since the English took possession. The people are now under a government which aims at protecting life and property, and at treating all, high and low, with equal justice. No longer are Dom offenders against caste laws executed while Brahman and Rajpoot murderers escape. Atrocious customs have been suppressed, such as the burial of lepers alive, which was formerly largely practised. Sanitary regulations have been issued, and penalties imposed on those convicted of violating them. Fights between villages, ending in robbery and murder, are no longer permitted, though sham-fights are still allowed. I was once a witness of such a fight, when a vast number of hill people were collected, as if for a great field-day, and stones were thrown from slings in a way I thought perilous to the combatants. Roads have been made, and rivers bridged. The new roads are too narrow and steep to admit of wheeled conveyances; often they are only three or four feet in width, and are at a gradient which makes them trying for horses and for persons on foot; but they are an immense improvement on the footpaths with which the natives were satisfied till they came under British rule, and with which they are still satisfied when left to themselves. I have not had much experience of the by-paths of the country, but quite enough to have made me thankful for the new order of things. Very recently a road for carts and conveyances has been made from the plains to Nynee Tal, Ranee Khet, and Almora; but the route is so circuitous that the roads hitherto traversed will continue the chief means of communication.

No sooner was the British rule established than the effect was seen in the increase of cultivation. Mr. Traill, the first Commissioner, states that from the time of the occupation, 1816 to 1822-23, the date of his retirement, cultivation had increased fully one-third, and since that time there has been a steady advance. The population has more than doubled, for we are told that in 1823 there were 27 inhabitants to the square mile, while in 1872 there were 65. At the same time there were 797 to the square mile in the Benares district, and there was no district in the North-West Provinces where the population was under 185, while the average was 378. An immense disparity must continue between countries with such different capabilities, but the progress made in Kumaon under British rule is proportionably as great as that made in the most favoured parts of India.

Wealth has been brought into the country as well as drawn out of it. I have already referred to tea-planting as a new department of agricultural industry. Many thousands have been spent on tea-gardens—much more, I suspect, than has yet been got out of them. A tea-planter once pointed to a cluster of well-built villages, and said, "These houses have all been built within the last few years by the proceeds of wages made in the tea-garden under my charge." Then the great influx of European travellers and residents has done not a little to enrich the people in various ways, though at times the labour thus required has been very grudgingly given, as it has withdrawn them from their homes when their own work was urgent.

Of late years a new source of income has been opened up to the people by the enterprise of Sir Henry Ramsay, who has been for many years the Commissioner of the Province, and has done more for it than any of his predecessors. The hill people of some districts have been for ages in the habit of moving down en masse with their cattle at the beginning of the cold weather for grazing, and have returned to their mountain homes when the hot weather had set in. The country immediately under the hills is called the Bhabhur, and is quite distinct from the Turai which lies beyond. This Bhabhur is a formation of sand and shingle filled with boulders, largely covered over with soil, which produces abundant herbage in the rainy season, and is thus good grazing ground in the succeeding months. It has a large extent of forest, composed of trees of great girth and magnificent height. The innumerable streams which come down from the hills flow under the Bhabhur, and make their way into the Turai beyond, where the land becomes water-logged, and the main product is long, rank grass, growing to the height of ten or twelve feet. By a system of canals, devised and carried out by Sir Henry Ramsay, the water as it comes down from the hills is made to irrigate a large part of the Bhabhur, rendering it fit for agricultural purposes. The result is that the people now cultivate the land, beside grazing their cattle over it. They sow toward the end of the rainy season, and reap at the beginning of the hot weather, when they retreat to the hills, and are ready for the cultivation of their fields there. This addition to the arable land has been a great boon to the people. I cannot say, however, judging by those with whom I have conversed, that they are satisfied. They grumble at the new tax imposed for the construction and maintenance of the canals, and also at the tax they have to pay for their holdings in the hills, though I believe it to be very light. They would gladly have all the benefits of a firm and improving government without paying anything for its support.

[Sidenote: WILD BEASTS.]

Notwithstanding the extension of cultivation and the increase of population in Kumaon, we may travel for many miles over hill and forest and not see a trace of man's presence. Cover for wild beasts has been somewhat abridged, but it is still sufficient to shelter them, and to make it unlikely they can be exterminated. Both in the hills and in the country beneath, hunters of wild beasts, European and native, still find abundant employment. Not a year passes without persons, sheep, and cattle being killed by tigers, leopards, and hyenas. They live so much in the gorges of the mountains, and in the depths of the forests, ready to pounce on their prey when opportunity presents itself, that the destruction caused by them is seen, while they themselves disappear. The first thing we saw on our first approach to Almora was a horse which had been killed by a leopard the preceding night. A woman, who had been cutting grass before the door of a house we occupied for a few days, was killed an hour afterwards by a tiger in the adjoining forest. One afternoon we heard the cry of a herd, and running out we saw a goat with its throat cut, but the leopard that had killed it had disappeared in the jungle beneath. On another occasion my pony, picketed near my tent, had a narrow escape from a leopard. I have often heard huntsmen relate the encounters they have had with these terrible brutes. On one occasion I saw four dead tigers brought in by a party that had killed them a few miles from the place where my tent was pitched. Tigers are very migratory. They live in the cold weather down in the Bhabhur and the Turai, and as the hot weather advances they follow the herd up the hills on to the verge of the snow. The bears of the hills feed on fruit and vegetables, and usually make away when human beings are seen, but they are very formidable to those who attack them, or come suddenly across their path. In some places wolves abound, and children and animals require to be guarded against them; but they never hunt in packs as in Russia, and they are not feared by grown-up people. In the lower hills and the Bhabhur there are herds of wild elephants, which do much injury to the crops of the people, and cannot be safely approached. I have been again and again in their track. There are also serpents, but they are not so numerous or venomous as in the plains. The dangers to which the inhabitants are exposed is shown by the annual statistics of casualties, in which the first place is given to the ravages of wild beasts, the second to landslips, and the third to serpents.

[Sidenote: INCONVENIENT STIPULATION.]

I may end this account of Kumaon, its scenery, products, history, and people, by mentioning two stipulations in the treaty with the Ghoorkhas, when the British took possession of the land, which are strikingly illustrative at once of British policy and of Hindu feeling. One stipulation was that certain sums should be paid annually to the priests of certain temples. A second stipulation was that the slaughter of bullocks and cows should be strictly prohibited. Not a vestige of power over the country was left to the Ghoorkhas; the entire rule was transferred to the British. But our authorities, influenced at once by religious liberalism or indifference, and by deference to Hindu feeling, accepted these conditions. The first stipulation caused no trouble, but the force of circumstances has led to the violation of the second. When there were no European troops in the Province, and the only Englishmen were civil officials, officers of native regiments, and a few casual travellers, the prohibition of beef caused little inconvenience; but a large influx of English people, soldiers and others, made the observance of the stipulation impracticable. For a time it was violated, and the authorities professed to know nothing about it; but when Nynee Tal became a great summer resort, and English soldiers were located at it, beef became a well-nigh indispensable article of food, cows and bullocks were killed, and the breach in the treaty by which the country was ceded to us became manifest to all. It is said that when the high-caste officials protested against this outrage on the Hindu religion, an English official quietly said that such good Hindus were not in their proper place, that they should be transferred to their holy city, Benares. This speedily silenced the complaint, as hill people intensely dislike leaving their mountains for the plains.

The treaty with the Ghoorkhas is not the only one in which the stipulation against beef has been made when territory has been ceded. To a treaty-keeping people like the English the stipulation has been very embarrassing, so embarrassing that for a time resolute effort has been made to observe it, but it has at length broken down under what has been deemed the compulsion of circumstances. We have heard of a high-caste official consoling his brethren for the outrage by reminding them it is the nature of tigers to eat cows and bullocks, and by telling them that the English were tigers, had a similar love for such food, and as it was their nature it must be borne with. Though so shocked with the shedding of the blood of cows and bullocks, the ruling class in Nepal have shown no aversion to the shedding of human blood, as is well known by all acquainted with the history of the country. During the mutiny a friend of mine, travelling with a regiment of Ghoorkhas that had come down from Nepal to help us, saw them kill a party of mutineers who had surrendered under an oath of their lives being spared, with a savage ferocity which shocked him beyond measure.

(4) TRAVELLING IN KUMAON.

[Sidenote: TRAVELLING.]

The greater part of our time in the Province was spent in the capital, Almora, and in the newly-formed Sanatarium Ranee Khet, but we frequently travelled through many of its districts. I have mentioned the improved means of communication, but vastly better though the roads be than they were in the days of native rule, travelling continues to be very expensive, fatiguing, and in some modes not a little dangerous. Travellers must either walk, ride, or be carried on men's shoulders. The first mode can be adopted only by those who have abundant strength and leisure. It was my mode during our first visit, as I was not pressed for time, and notwithstanding our residence of eight years in the plains I retained a good deal of my youthful vigour. The mountain scenery and the mountain air gave us new life. I travelled on foot some three hundred miles. On the occasion of future visits I was happy to avail myself of a hill pony. Most gentlemen and many young ladies perform their hill journeys on horseback. Happily, hill ponies are, as a rule, quiet and sure-footed; and they require to be, as the roads are narrow, in some places very narrow, and overhang precipices, down which the rider would be dashed if the pony slipped or was scared. At first, riding appears very dangerous, but after a time there is a feeling of security. I remember riding with confidence over places where at first I deemed it prudent to dismount. Scarcely a year, however, passes without riders being killed, and all who have travelled much over the country have to tell of providential escapes. The third mode, the mode adopted by most ladies, and by gentlemen who have not nerve to ride, is to be carried on men's shoulders. The palankeen and dolie of the plains are by far too heavy and cumbrous for the hills. The favourite vehicle is the dandee—a pole, with a piece of carpet attached, on which the traveller sits sideway, and which has belts for the back and feet. Two men, one at each end of the pole, are able to carry the dandee a short distance, but in journeys four are commonly employed. During the last few years a very light sedan-chair has come into favour, which is far more convenient for ladies, but the dandee is lighter and will continue to be largely used.

We have seen a good deal of both the eastern and western portions of the Province. In 1847 we travelled to Lahoo Ghat and Petorah Gurh in the east. On this occasion I went on to Nepal, and was told by the Nepalese sentry on the frontier bridge that without special permission from Khatmandoo, the Capital, I could not proceed farther. In 1869, in company with my much-esteemed friend the late Dr. Mather, I travelled in the same direction, and saw much of the country, as we went by one route and returned by another. During the later years of our residence we saw a good deal of the western districts, to which I shall refer when giving an account of missionary operations.

Along some of the main roads, at the distance of twelve or fourteen miles, are small rough Rest-houses, with a table, two chairs, and a bedstead, often in very bad condition. These houses are in charge of a watchman, who is often long in making his appearance, and then brings wood and water, and sometimes a little milk. For everything else you are dependent on people with you carrying supplies. Where there is much traffic there is good accommodation.

[Sidenote: TIMELY ESCAPE.]

Our most memorable journey, perhaps, was one made in 1861 to the Pindaree glacier. The journey was a very fatiguing one, as the roads were so bad, and the ascents and descents so steep, that before we got half way I was obliged to leave my pony behind, and to make my way on foot, helped to ascend and descend in some places by strong hill-men, who drew me up or helped me down by a belt round my middle, while my wife and little boy were carried in dandies. Many of the bridges were rough wooden structures, with no parapets. As we approached the snow we suffered much at night from cold in our little tent. The hill people of the higher region we found much stronger and more unsophisticated than those we had left behind. The women seemed never to have seen an English woman or child. They were first afraid to come near us, but my wife made her way to little groups, and they seemed delighted with her, and still more with her little boy. Fatiguing and trying though the journey was, health was improved by it, and we were well rewarded for any toil and inconvenience we endured by the magnificent scenery we saw. Down the Pindaree valley came a roaring torrent, showing by its yellow tinge it came from the melted snow. We were awed as we looked up at the tremendous cliffs on either side. Pursuing our way in silence, I heard a servant from the plains, who was walking behind me, muttering to himself, "Such a wicked place I never saw in my life." We breakfasted on the glacier, and after looking at some of the crevasses we were glad to make our way back to our tent a few miles below. Next morning we retraced our steps, and it was well we did so, for as we were rapidly descending we had heavy rain, and could see snow falling where we had been. The next day the whole region behind was covered with snow, and we were thankful for our timely escape.

The details of travelling I have now given, and the previous details about the country and people may perhaps enable the reader the better to understand and realize missionary work in the Province.



CHAPTER XXI.

THE ALMORA MISSION.

Stated mission work was commenced in Kumaon in 1850. Previous to that time a few of its people had heard the Gospel from missionaries travelling through it, or residing for a few months in it. In that year the Rev. J. H. Budden, of the London Missionary Society, after labouring for a time in Benares and Mirzapore, was obliged by the failure of health to abandon all hope of continuing in the plains, and took up his abode at Almora, the capital of the Province. The society declined to enter on mission work in Kumaon; but Captain Ramsay, Senior Assistant to the Commissioner, with other friends, came forward with most liberal offers of support, and consent was given to Mr. Budden's entering into an engagement to carry on the Mission as the agent of its local supporters. For some time his entire salary and all expenses were met by these friends. Afterwards a part of the salary was paid by the Society, and for years the whole, but the friends who founded the Mission have on to the present time supported it with princely munificence. At the head of these is Sir Henry Ramsay, the Captain Ramsay of 1850, who has been for many years the Commissioner of the Province, and who continues the warm and liberal supporter of everything by which the spiritual as well as the temporal good of the people may be promoted.

[Sidenote: WORK OF THE ALMORA MISSION.]

As the Mission at Almora was the first, so it continues to be the most important in the Province. Organized and administered by Mr. Budden, and heartily supported by friends on the spot, it has done a work which has told powerfully and happily on the entire country. From the beginning much attention has been paid to the education of the young. For a long time the school of the Mission was the only one in the Province where a superior education, at once native and European, was imparted; and still, both in the number of its pupils and in the extent of its course of study, it stands highest. From it have gone out for many years bands of young men who now fill varied positions under Government, and it is believed they are discharging their duties with greater intelligence and a higher character than those they have succeeded. In remote parts of the Province I have met persons who have spoken in strong terms of gratitude of the benefit they had received from attending the Almora Mission School. A few years ago a large, handsome structure was erected for its accommodation at great expense, towards which the natives contributed very liberally. In addition to this school-house, the Mission has valuable property in mission-houses for native Christians, an orphanage, and a book-room.



[Sidenote: THE LEPER ASYLUM.]

In other departments excellent work has been done. Female education has been zealously prosecuted under the direction of Mr. Budden's daughters. For many years there has been an orphanage in which destitute children have been brought up and educated. The authorities made over to the Mission a Leper Asylum they had established, and for years it has been under its exclusive charge. Much has been done for the inmates of this asylum at the cost of personal labour, great anxiety, and a heavy expenditure. Suitable buildings have been erected, the wants of the lepers have been supplied, everything has been done which could be done to mitigate their sufferings, and to secure order and cleanliness. The efforts put forth to draw them to the Great Physician to secure their spiritual cure have by the Divine blessing borne abundant fruit. When the Rev. John Hewlett was in charge in 1864-65 there was a movement towards Christianity, which resulted in the baptism of several. Since that time the work has gone on. Christian worship has been regularly maintained among them, and much labour has been bestowed on their instruction. Many have been baptized, after giving all the evidence of sincerity which could be expected, and at certain times the Lord's Supper has been dispensed. Among the lepers there have been persons of very debased character, but the conduct of most has been good, and, so far as we can judge, a number have become the true followers of the Saviour. If the Mission had done nothing more than sustain this Leper Asylum, it would have done a most Christ-like work, deserving the warm approbation and liberal support of Christ's people.



From the commencement of the Mission a service has been conducted every Sabbath in English for the benefit of our countrymen residing in Almora. Services have been held in the native language for the native Christians and natives generally.

In addition to the work of organizing and conducting the various departments of the Mission, Mr. Budden has made large and valuable contributions to native Christian literature.

I have seen much of the Almora Mission, and have had the privilege of taking part in conducting its operations. Among other duties which I endeavoured to discharge during two seasons was to go, along with my wife, every Sabbath morning to conduct worship with the lepers, and to instruct them. Mrs. Kennedy went besides once every week. There is no work on which I look back with deeper interest than I do on this. We first conducted a brief service of singing, prayer, and preaching. Mrs. Kennedy then took the women and I took the men to see how much of the sermon they understood, and to inculcate the great lessons of God's Word in the way of question and answer. The work was at first very trying, but gradually we became more than reconciled to it. Our heart was drawn forth in deep pity to these poor people, and we left them deeply thankful for the privilege we had of speaking to them of the Saviour, and of telling them of His compassion for the suffering and the lost.



CHAPTER XXII.

RANEE KHET MISSION.

In accordance with instructions from the Directors of the London Missionary Society, Mrs. Kennedy and myself went at the beginning of May, 1869, to Ranee Khet, a new station twenty miles north-west of Almora, to enter on mission work there. Some time previously it had been resolved to open a new mission in the Province, and I had been appointed to commence it. After much consideration Ranee Khet was deemed the most eligible place for the extension of our work. The name means "The Field of the Queen," and was probably given to it in honour of Kalee, as it has on its higher part a small temple sacred to her, round which the hill people hold a yearly mela. The place may be described as a rough table-land, with an elevation of from 6,200 to 7,000 feet above the level of the sea. With the exception of a little land cleared on one side, the country for miles around was covered with forests of pine, oak, and rhododendron, over which the people of the valleys pastured their cattle at some seasons of the year. The attention of the Government was drawn to the place as suitable for a military Sanitarium, and engineers were sent to open up roads and investigate its capabilities. The report made by them was so favourable that a considerable outlay was sanctioned for turning it into a retreat for English soldiers from the heat of the plains.

The prospect of Ranee Khet as a European station, where soon a large population was sure to gather, was one reason for regarding it as a good sphere for a new mission. The chief reason, however, for the choice was the fact that within twelve miles around, on the sides of the hills and in the valleys beneath, there was a large accessible population, furnishing a much wider field than one missionary could well occupy.

[Sidenote: VISITS TO RANEE KHET.]

Previous to taking up our abode at Ranee Khet I paid several visits to it, with a view to making myself acquainted with the neighbourhood and to holding intercourse with the people, many of whom I met in their villages. They looked on me with fear, as if I had come to lay a new tax on them, and seemed utterly unable to comprehend me when I told them I was no Government official, but a servant of God, who came to them with good tidings from Him. The only school of which I heard was twelve miles distant, and I came to the conclusion that the establishment of primary schools would be very beneficial to the people, and highly favourable to my object. Though so illiterate that in well-sized villages I did not hear of a person who could read, a number expressed approval of my object. Some were forward with the promise to erect school-sheds, and to send their children, but the performance did not come up to the promise.

When we went to Ranee Khet there was not a single house at the place. The only Europeans were two Engineers and a sergeant, and they were living in their cook-houses, preparatory to building houses for themselves. I had arranged with a friend to have a wooden house erected, but when we went the work had only been commenced, and the first six weeks we lived in a tent. It was midsummer, and the tent was in the daytime intolerably hot. The trees around gave little shelter, they were chiefly pine; but we soon succeeded in putting up booths, and in them, except when storms came on, we were very comfortable during the heat of the day.

We were thankful when we exchanged our tent and booths for our rough wooden house. In it we remained two years and a half in tolerable comfort. There were two serious drawbacks. In the heavy rains the house leaked in such a degree that there was scarcely a dry spot in it; and, what was worse, the rats got into the open roof, and by their active movements, especially at night, were a great annoyance. Latterly the leakage was stopped, but the rats were too strong for us, and could not be dislodged. Notwithstanding these inconveniences, when we remembered the heat of the plains, during six months of the year, which we had endured, and our brethren were continuing to endure, and contrasted the climate there with the climate we were enjoying, we were never tempted to murmur. We felt deeply thankful for the Providence which had given us an abode in a country where summer heat was only a little greater than in our own, where there were no hot winds, where with windows open we could be always comfortable in the hottest weather, and where all around us was magnificent scenery.

I have mentioned rats. In their division of common rat and musk-rat, they are troublesome enough in the plains, but they are a plague in the hills. They abound in the fields, and are very hurtful to the crops. Not a house is erected into which they do not manage to make their way; but where a house is well built, and due care is taken, they find little shelter. They go into a rough wooden house as if they were entitled to full possession. These unwelcome intruders may be kept in check, but there is no hope of entire deliverance from them.

[Sidenote: MISSION BUILDINGS.]

During our eight years in Ranee Khet we had to discharge the varied duties devolving on missionary pioneers. To one department, to which I knew much attention must be given, I looked forward with dismay—the erection of buildings. Remembering our experience in the plains we would gladly have shrunk from this work, but we knew it must be faced. Through the great kindness and efficient help of friends we succeeded in getting suitable buildings erected. The first building we put up was a place of worship. After considerable delay we succeeded in getting a suitable site for a mission-house on a knoll within a short distance of the native bazar. The servants' houses and the cook-house were first up, and leaving our hut we took up our abode in the cook-house, that we might be at hand to superintend the erection of the mission-house. Before its completion we got, close at hand, a site for a school-house, which, with its handsome hall and four side-rooms, furnishes more accommodation than has yet been required. To this building natives contributed liberally. As the stone and wood required had to be carried on men's heads and shoulders, every additional yard increased the expense, and we were obliged to use the wood and stone nearest, though at some distance better might have been procured. Our masons and carpenters were not of a superior order, and required to be constantly watched and directed. The buildings were not all we could wish, but they were suitable for the climate and for our purpose. Our house was commodious, was in the best position for mission work, had a magnificent view of the snowy range, and we would not have exchanged it for the finest house we had seen in the plains.



From the commencement of our residence in Ranee Khet, village schools received much of my attention. For a time I had nine under my charge, at distances of from six to fifteen miles. For the accommodation of three schools stone houses were erected, and for other schools sheds of grass and wood were put up. The attendance at these schools varied greatly at different seasons of the year: many came too short a time to get any benefit, the attendance of others was too irregular to admit of much progress; but a considerable number remained till they received a good primary education. On my visits I taught the pupils, and conversed with their parents and friends who gathered round. When the weather permitted I had my tent pitched for days near the school, and visited the adjoining villages. On these occasions I tried to sit down where or how I could, with the people around me, and entered into familiar conversation with them. The language was a great difficulty, as the dialect of Kumaon differs widely from the Hindee of the plains; but by dint of repetition, and putting what I had to say in different forms in the simplest fashion, I was often happy to find myself getting into the understanding of my hearers. Every second Saturday the teachers, often accompanied by senior pupils, came to my house to report what they had done, and to receive instruction.

[Sidenote: CONTRASTED VIEWS OF SIN.]

I had reason to be thankful for having entered into this department of work. A large amount of Christian instruction was imparted; many of the boys showed remarkable aptitude in committing to memory portions of Scripture, such as the ten commandments and the parables of our Lord. Much general knowledge was acquired, a number of the pupils became better fitted for their secular calling, and the goodwill of the people was secured. Once, when thirty miles away from Ranee Khet, I met a lad whom I recognized as an old pupil. I asked him if he remembered what he had been taught. He said he did. He went to a house close at hand, brought a copy of St. Luke's Gospel, read at my request the fifteenth chapter, and explained its meaning with an accuracy which surprised me. At the same place I met a man of a different order. He told me he was going to a mela, to which I was also proceeding. I asked him what he was to do there. He said he was to bathe, to wash away his sins. I asked him what was the sin which oppressed him. He said, "I am a husbandman. In ploughing my fields I destroy much life, which is a great sin. This is the worst thing with which I am chargeable." The lad taught in the school knew something of what sin was, as the poor man did not. I can say nothing about the spiritual results of these school efforts. I can only hope that by God's blessing good has been done. The Government has now entered largely on primary education in the Province, and with its resources and prestige will, I trust, secure a large school attendance.

All through my residence at Ranee Khet I endeavoured to embrace the opportunities given to me of promoting the spiritual good of our own countrymen. A service was at once commenced with the few residents and visitors at the station. Towards the end of 1869 two companies of English soldiers were sent, and as soon as tolerable accommodation was provided a regiment was stationed at Ranee Khet. As for nearly three years I was the only resident Christian minister, I held two services every Lord's Day—one for Presbyterians, including all non-Episcopalian adherents, and the other for the Episcopalians, the Prayer-book being used at this latter service. I also visited the sick in hospital, and when at home conducted a weekday meeting. We first met in the open air, or verandah of our hut; afterwards in the hut used as a temporary canteen; for some time in the recreation-room; and during our later years in our place of worship, which we called Union Church. An effort was made to get up a girls' school, but it was unsuccessful, as the attendance of the few native girls in the Bazar could not be secured. So far as native women were concerned, all Mrs. Kennedy could do was to instruct the few living in the Mission compound. She found, however, an interesting sphere among the wives and children of the soldiers. The Sabbath school, commenced and carried on by her, assisted by others, was attended by all the children, Roman Catholic as well as Protestant; but no sooner was a Roman Catholic chaplain appointed than the order went forth for the withdrawal of the children of his Church, which was obeyed with manifest reluctance. We had much pleasure in these services with our own people, and had every reason to believe lasting good was done. Some of the boys of the Ranee Khet school expressed a desire to be taught English, and these came every second day to our house to be taught by Mrs. Kennedy.

[Sidenote: MISSION WORK AT RANEE KHET.]

While thankfully availing myself of the opportunities presented of preaching the Gospel to our own countrymen, such opportunities as I never had at any previous period of my Indian career, my chief attention was given to the work for which I had been sent to Ranee Khet. I have already mentioned missionary work done on visits to the schools. At Ranee Khet opportunities were found for conversation with shopkeepers and their customers. Thousands of work-people were employed on the buildings which were being erected, and these, when the work of the day was over, flocked to the Bazar to buy food. After the toil of the day, when eagerly anticipating their only cooked meal in the twenty-four hours, they were not inclined to listen to a stranger telling them of his strange religion. Occasionally I did succeed in getting for a time the attention of some not so eager as others to get their evening meal. Most heard quietly, but sometimes individuals replied with bitter words. Many of the work-people had come from a great distance. The most prominent of these was a band of Cashmeeree Mussulmans, who spoke against Christianity with a fierceness which showed what they would do if they had the power. From one of them I got a retort, which it was difficult to repel. I tried to put the party into good humour by asking them about their country, and I smilingly said, "Is there no food in your country, that you have come all this way for it?" To which I got the reply: "You, sir, have come much farther than we have done. Had you no food to eat in your country?" I must acknowledge I felt myself shut up under this rebuff.

During my residence at Ranee Khet I had much intercourse with two classes widely separated from each other—educated young men, and Doms.

I have mentioned that from the Almora Mission School a number of young men had gone into all parts of the Province. Several got situations in the public offices of Ranee Khet, and to them in the course of time persons of the same class were added from Bengal. I visited these at their quarters, and did all in my power to maintain friendly intercourse with them. A room in the school-house, supplied, partly at their own expense and partly by the liberality of friends, with newspapers, periodicals, and books, was turned into a reading-room, which was always open in the evening. One evening in the week they met me in class, when we had as our text-book the Advanced Reader of the Christian Vernacular Education Society, which furnished full opportunity for conversation on the most useful and important subjects. The attendance was not so steady as could be desired. All were friendly in their bearing, and some seemed much interested in our study and talk. A few professed Brahmist views, but none were inclined to join the Brahmist community and break with their own people. There was no indication of the spiritual concern which compels the soul to earnest investigation, with a view to following truth wherever it may lead.

[Sidenote: MISSION WORK AMONG THE DOMS.]

The other class with whom I had much to do at Ranee Khet were the Doms, to whom reference has already been made as in all probability the descendants of the aborigines of the country previous to the Hindu invasion. They are a most useful part of the community. As the artisans of the country, the people of every caste have much to do with them. They are largely engaged in agriculture. They do things by which the caste people would be defiled, such as carrying away the carcases of animals. In a high-caste village it is not uncommon to see, a little aside from it—if the ground permits, below it—a number of houses occupied by Doms. The pigs and fowls around the meaner dwellings, and the poorer looks of the inhabitants, tell what they are. As artisan work is now in great demand the circumstances of the Doms are much improved, and there is every prospect of their rising into a higher position. They bear, and for many a year they may be expected to bear, indubitable marks of having been for ages a servile, despised, downtrodden class, having no respect from others, and entertaining little respect for themselves. Their improved circumstances will do something towards raising them in the social scale, but we cannot look for high moral excellence and real manhood till they come under the power of the Gospel.

On account of the abundance of work which the formation of an English station was sure to afford, a colony of these people erected a village for themselves on the side of the Ranee Khet hill below the Bazar. I had when in Almora conversed frequently with Doms. At Ranee Khet I saw much of them, and had more encouragement among them than among any other class. To some who expressed regret they could neither read nor write, I said it was not too late; that I would take care that they be taught if they were willing to learn. To test them I opened a night-school, and a number availed themselves of it. It was a gratifying sight to see them, at ages varying from fifteen to thirty-five, conning their spelling-books at the door of the school-house as evening was coming on, or trying to form letters on their slates. A few became soon discouraged, but a number held on, night after night for two or three hours, with the greatest eagerness, till they could read, write, and count very fairly. One result of the school was that they began to attend, with great regularity, a service held every Sabbath afternoon in the hall of the school-house. During the last year of our residence in Ranee Khet, the attendance at this service was larger than at any previous period, and it was mainly composed of Doms. Nothing could exceed the quietness and apparent interest with which they heard the simple addresses given. I cannot say I saw any evidence of spiritual awakening, but the torpor of their previous life was shaken in a way which inspired the hope of their being brought into the fold of Christ.

I have mentioned the fierceness of the Cashmeeree Mussulmans. This charge cannot be brought against them all. One of their number, a young lad, came to the school, and was in every respect one of the best pupils in it. With another, one so trusted by the rest that he was the go-between in the arrangements for work with the English engineer, I had much intercourse. Though the head of the party, and himself doing no manual work, he could neither read nor write, and was entirely dependent on accounts being kept by another. To my surprise he came to the night-school, and applied himself so diligently that he acquired a fair measure of elementary education, though his knowledge of the Hindee language was very imperfect. He regularly attended the Sabbath evening service, and seemed to listen most eagerly. One day he came to our house. I at once saw that he was greatly excited. He shut the door behind him, as if afraid of being seen, came close to me, got down on his knees, and said: "Sir, what am I to do? Last night Huzrut Isa" (the name given by Muhammadans to our Lord, which may be translated "His Honour," or "His Excellence Jesus") "appeared to me in a dream, and said, 'Follow me; follow me.' But how can I follow Him? My people will kill me, they will kill me!" I have seldom been more touched than when I looked on the anguish in the face of that poor man, and the tears coursing down his cheeks, as he uttered these words. I need not tell the Christian reader what I endeavoured to say. Shortly afterwards the Cashmeerees left Ranee Khet, and this man with them. I could not find out where they went, and I have lost all trace of my friend.

[Sidenote: ITINERACY.]

A considerable part, sometimes the greater part, of the cold weather was given to itineracy. Some winters we went down to the foot of the hills to prosecute mission work among the large population found there at that season. We moved from place to place, erecting our tent in central spots, from which within a radius of two or three miles we could visit populous villages, some built of rough stones, but most composed of grass sheds. I was generally accompanied by a catechist. We had many opportunities of speaking to the people on the highest subjects. Not infrequently we met persons whom we had met in the hills, and then we were sure of a special welcome. Once I came on a party of Doms, tailors, whom I had seen a short time previously, and I said to them: "As you have no cattle, and do not cultivate the ground, what has brought you down?" To which I got the reply: "We have come in search of the sun." This gave me an opportunity of speaking of that Sun in whose warmth and light their spirits might dwell at all times, in all places. I endeavoured to set up schools in the Bhabhur, but had not any encouraging measure of success.

There was much which was pleasant and exhilarating in this movement from place to place, and in camping under the trees: but it was at times very fatiguing, and in bad weather very unpleasant. More than once we were overtaken by severe storms, but happily the worst of these storms came on us in favoured places, where we could find shelter on escaping from our tent.

Hill ponies feel themselves strange when in what a friend used to call the "roomy plains." The pony I had for years was quiet enough in the hills, but I had to watch it narrowly in the plains, as it seemed to have always the sense of danger, and was ready to start in a fashion which more than once almost dismounted me.

Some winters were spent in itinerating in hill districts from which the people did not go to the Bhabhur. In these winters I had the opportunity of going to a mela held at Bageswur, about thirty-five miles from Ranee Khet, at the confluence of the Surjoo and the Kalee. This mela is the greatest held in the Province. To many it is the grand event of the year. The people from all parts flock to it for religious, commercial, and social purposes. In the motley crowd may be seen hill-men from all the districts of the Himalaya, natives from the plains, Tibetans from the other side of the snowy range, and Englishmen.

This mela is held in a low valley not far from one of the passes into Tibet. It is attended by many Tibetans, who succeed in bringing their ponies through the tremendous defiles which separate their country from Kumaon. These ponies bring high prices. They also bring sheep laden with salt and borax. These Mongolians are great stalwart men, with broad faces, clad in homespun woollen cloth of many folds, which is seldom taken off till it is worn off. They are accompanied by a few women and children. They take their religion with them in their praying-wheels, which they keep going. They are an intensely religious people, as Mr. Gilmour tells us, but it is in the most mechanical fashion which can be conceived. If they were mere machines, wound up like their praying-wheels, they could not to all appearance be more devoid of thought, feeling, and conscience in the exercise of their religion. I marked their countenances, and could only wonder at their stolid look. Much that is absurd is found in man's religion, but the Tibetan form of it seemed to me the very ne plus ultra of irrationality. Some of these Mongolians are inveterate beggars, but it would not be fair to judge the people generally by these stragglers into India. There was more life in their dances than in their religion, though not much grace. It seemed to me that if elephants could dance, they would do it somewhat in that style.

[Sidenote: GREAT FAIR AT BAGESWUR.]

In the town of Bageswur there are substantial houses belonging to the merchants of the Province, and these are occupied by themselves or their agents during the greater part of the cold weather. During the rest of the year it is deserted, as the valley is very hot and feverish. During the colder weeks of the year it is a very stirring place, but it is on the occasion of the melas, two of which are held within three months, that there is a large gathering. At the principal mela many thousands must be present. As in all Hindu gatherings, religion, business, and pleasure are eagerly prosecuted. A town of booths rises suddenly in the valley and on the sides of the hills. Whenever I have gone, I have for miles before reaching the place seen many carrying or trailing branches of trees, with which they were to erect their temporary abode. These answer well in good weather, but when rain or snow falls they give no shelter. The morning is given to bathing. One morning is peculiarly propitious, and then from the earliest dawn the people are in the stream, many of them, I suppose, getting well-nigh the only ablution they have in the course of the year. During the day selling and buying go on vigorously. As evening approaches the merry-go-rounds are patronized, and crowds gather round singing and dancing parties. The dancers are young men linked hand in hand, who move about in circles, shuffle their feet, and sing in a very monotonous fashion. Many set to the preparation of the evening meal, and the valley and the hill-sides are aglow with fires and lights. Amusement, however, has not come to an end. Singing is kept up till the small hours of the morning, to the no small disturbance of those who cannot sleep except when there is a measure of quiet. Between the singing of the people and the barking—rather the howling—of the Tibetan dogs, such barking as I have never heard in our own country, wearied though I have been by the work of the day I have for hours found sleep to be impossible.

Englishmen attending the mela find a temporary abode in tents, and in a staging bungalow erected for the accommodation of European travellers. They dine together in the hall of this house, and occupy their tents at night. Officials deputed by the Commissioner of the Province are present, for the double purpose of keeping order and of paying rewards to those who have killed wild beasts. The skins of the tigers, bears, and leopards, for the destruction of which rewards have been paid, are sold by auction under the direction of the officials. The heaps of skins exposed for sale give one a striking impression of the number of wild beasts in the country. There are many keen hunters, both native and European, and there is no likelihood of their occupation coming to an end for want of game. Tea-planters attend this mela to buy mats, which are made by the people in large quantities, and are required in the preparation of tea for the market. Military officers on leave and travellers from the plains are present from the double motive of seeing this strange gathering and of purchasing ponies.