Chapter 8 Chapter VIII Travels of Benares

Now our steam-house can travel on the broad road, which, through Saslam, takes us as far as the right bank of the Ganges, opposite Benares. After a mile out of the bivouac, the train moved even more slowly, traveling only about 2.5 miles an hour.Bonkers planned to camp that night near Saslam, a small town 25 miles away from Gaya, and spend the night quietly. Generally speaking, roads in India always avoid rivers as much as possible, because the cost of building bridges in such river flood plains is staggering.Even so, in many places roads were blocked by the river ahead and bridges had to be built over the river.Of course, there is an ancient and crude means of crossing the river: the ferryboat.But there is no doubt that it will not carry our train.Fortunately we can cross the river by ourselves.

This day we do have to cross a great river, the Saone.It joins the two tributaries Kopit and Coir at the upper reaches of Rotas and will empty into the Ganges between Ala and Pinapur.There is no more convenient means of river transportation.The elephant turned into a ship.Slide down a gentle slope to the river bank, then drive into the river and float on the water.Its broad feet slapped the river water like the paddle blades on the front of a motor vehicle, and slowly, it dragged the carriage behind it towards the opposite bank. Captain Ord couldn't help but exclaimed with joy: "What a mobile house! It can be used as a car and a ship! With wings inserted, it can become an aircraft and fly freely in the air!"

"Odd, someday this will become a reality," said the engineer seriously. "I'm well aware of this, Bonkers," said the captain with a very serious look on his face, "everything will come true! But the only thing that won't come true is that two hundred years from now, we'll still be alive to see these miracles! Although life isn't Every day is a joy, but I would very much like to live six centuries—just out of curiosity!" Twelve hours had passed since we left Ghaga in the evening when we crossed the circular tube railway bridge eighty feet above the surface of the Sonne.The convoy stopped near Saslam, and it was only here that they could settle down, refill their firewood and water, and set off early the next morning.

Everything is going according to plan.Early the next morning, that is, May 22, we were already on the road before the early noon heat started. The scenery along the way is the same as before, giving us the impression that it is always rich and productive.Basically similar to the beautiful Ganges Valley.Here I don't want to repeat the description of those villages hidden in the endless rice fields, dense palm forests, mango trees, and many tall and beautiful woods that I don't know what to call.Besides, the trains are running non-stop all the time.At any time, a slow-moving ox-drawn cart would block the way ahead, but it would automatically retreat to the side of the road after two or three whistle blows, and our train drove away amidst the stunned passers-by.

On this day, I was especially happy to see a large rose garden.It seems that we are indeed not far from Ghazipur, the manufacturing center of rose perfume, especially essence. So I turned to Bonkers to see if he could tell me something about the fragrance boutique. "I'll give you some statistics, my dear friend," replied Bonkers, "and you'll see how expensive it is to make this rose essence. The first step is to distill forty pounds of roses over a warm fire, and you can Thirty pounds of rose water are obtained. Mix these waters with another forty pounds of rose-flowers and continue the distillation until only twenty pounds of the mixture remain, and leave the mixture to dry for twelve hours in the cool night air, The next day you will find that something has condensed on the surface of the mixture, what? An ounce of sesame oil. So, from the eighty pounds of roses—at least two hundred thousand flowers,—only one ounce of essence can be extracted in the end, This is real carnage! So it is not surprising that an ounce costs as much as forty rupees or one hundred francs even where it is produced."

"Ah! If it takes forty pounds of grapes to make an ounce of schnapps, how expensive is that scotch mixed with sugar water!" Captain Ord was stunned when he heard what Bonkers said. On this day, we have to cross a river, which is the Kalamnaka River, a tributary of the Ganges.Indians have long regarded this innocent river as a ghost river unsuitable for navigation. It is cursed by the world just like the Jordan River and the Dead Sea.People throw the dead bodies into the river, and the river will carry them all the way to hell in Brahmanism.I don't want to comment on this belief.But to say that the water of this ghost river stinks and is bad for the stomach, I disagree.The river water is clear and clean.

In the evening, after passing through this quiet and peaceful area among the vast poppy and rice fields, we came to the right bank of the Ganges and settled down, opposite the former Nalu Salem of the Indians, the holy city of Benar Les. "We're going to be here for twenty-four hours!" Bonkers told us. "How far are we from Calcutta now?" I asked the engineer. "Three hundred and fifty miles," he answered; "my dear friend, you must admit that we felt neither the distance nor the fatigue of the journey!" Ganges!The name itself contains countless poetic myths. Isn't it like the embodiment of the whole of India?Is there a second Ganges valley in the world with a width of 150 miles and no less than 100 million inhabitants on both sides?Is there a place on earth where more miracles have been performed since the soil of Asia began to be inhabited?How would the great writer Victor Hugo, who sang the Danube so proudly, praise the Ganges?yes!He can read aloud:

... as rough as the sea, winding like a snake, It flows from west to east! But the waves and winds on the Ganges are much fiercer than that of the great river of Europe!It also snakes its way through the most idyllic places in the world!It also flows from west to east!But its source is not in any low hill!It flows down from the roof of the world, from the mountains of Tibet, and pours into the Taotao River with countless tributaries along the way!It is a river flowing down from the Himalayas! The next day, the 23rd of May, at sunrise, the broad surface of the water sparkled in the sunlight.On the white sandy beach, several groups of fat alligators seem to be enjoying the morning sun.They lay motionless on the beach facing the radiant sun, as if they were the most devout believers of Brahmanism.But a few corpses floating on the water quickly grabbed their attention.It is said that among these drifting corpses, the ones with their backs down are men, and the ones with their backs up are women.But in my opinion, this is pure nonsense.In a few moments, the devils on the beach pounce on the regular sacrifice offered by the rivers of the Indian peninsula, and drag it to the bottom for their own enjoyment.

The Calcutta Railway is divided into two in Allahabad, one leads to Delhi in the northwest direction, and the other leads to Mumbai in the southwest direction.At Mogul Sarai station, only a few miles away, a forked railway crosses the Ganges to Benares, and then winds some sixty kilometers along the Gumti valley to Jhampur. Benares is on the left bank of the Ganges, but we do not cross the river here but at Allahabad.The giant steel beast still stopped at the place chosen the night before, that is, the night of May 22nd.Several gondola boats are moored on the river bank, ready to take us to the holy city on the other side. I really hope to have time to visit it in detail.

For Colonel Moreau, who frequented these cities, there was naturally nothing to know and nothing to see.But on this day, he suddenly wanted to accompany us, but after thinking about it, he decided to take a walk on the river bank with Sergeant Mark Real.The two had already left the steam room before we set off.As for Captain Ord, who had been stationed in Benares with the army, he only wanted to visit a few comrades in arms.So Bonkers and I,—the engineer wanted to be my guide,—were the only ones brought into Benares by curiosity. As for the fact that Captain Ord was stationed at Benares with the army, we must know that the various regiments of the Royal Army were not always stationed in these Indian cities, but in barracks they built themselves, and in fact these barracks Inverted into a real British town.Therefore, whether in Allahabad, in Benares, or in some other city, there are not only large numbers of soldiers, but also heaps of officers, wholesalers, and rentiers who live on periodic interest or annuities.Every such big city is divided into two, one half is modern Europe, comfortable and luxurious, and the other half preserves a strong local color, and various Indian customs are intact!

The English town attached to Benares is Cyrol, and its houses, streets, Christian churches, and hotels required by tourists are naturally of no interest to us.Ceyrol is one of those cities that British manufacturers pack and unload.So we're not going to go to this surprisingly bland place.Bonkers and I took a gondola, and to get a sneak peek at the panorama of Benares rising high on the steep banks like a Roman amphitheatre, we slanted across the Constantinople. river. "Benares is the most famous holy city in India," Bonkers said to me. "It is the Mecca of India. Anyone who has lived here, even if it is only for twenty-four hours, will be rewarded for a lifetime." happiness. Now you will understand what kind of influence this faith can have on pilgrims, and how many inhabitants this city must have under the protection of Brahmans." Benares is said to be thirty centuries old.Then it was established around the time when the Trojan civilization was on the verge of decline.For a long time, as the most authoritative Buddhist center, it has had a huge influence on the entire Indian peninsula spiritually rather than politically.This situation was maintained until the ninth century.A religious revolution ended the era.Brahmanism destroyed the original belief.Benares has become the center of Brahmin rule and a holy place for believers. According to statistics, there are 300,000 pilgrims from all directions every year. An Indian maharaja also lived in this holy metropolis.Although the salary given to him by the British was not rich, his palace located in Rangnagai on the banks of the Ganges was magnificent and magnificent.He is a true descendant of the king of Khasi (the old name of Benares), but now he has no power and no power, so long as he has a salary of one hundred thousand rupees--about two hundred and fifty thousand francs, and more. Not as good as the money in the pocket of the old leader, the prince is content. Like all cities in the Ganges valley, Benares was touched by the riots of 1857.At that time, the local garrison consisted of thirty-seven infantry regiments, an irregular cavalry contingent and a regiment composed of half Indian Sikhs.The Royal Army has only half a European artillery battery.How dare such a small group of people threaten to disarm the local troops.So the local government had to wait anxiously for Colonel Rael, who was rushing to Allahabad with the 10th Corps of the Royal Army, to reach Benares.Although the colonel brought only two hundred and fifty soldiers, a military parade was immediately held on the training ground. When the Indian soldiers were called together, they refused to accept the order to lay down their arms.The battle ensued between Colonel Rael's infantry and the disobedient Indians, and the irregular cavalry of the local army and the Sikh regiments, who thought they were abandoned, joined the insurrectionary ranks.The half artillery company in the hands of the British army bombarded the rioters not to be outdone, and soon they were drowned in the artillery fire.In the end, all the brave Indian soldiers were wiped out. When the gunfire of this riot was fired outside the city, only the Muslim soldiers in the city were still holding high their green flags, showing the slightest signs of riots-and this signs were quickly extinguished.From that day until the end of the riot, Benares remained calm, even when the riots were raging in western India. Bonkers told me these stories about Benares as our gondola cruised slowly on the Ganges. "Dear friend," he told me, "we're coming to Benares, wonderful! Although it's an ancient metropolis, you won't find a castle over three hundred years old in the city." Architecture. Don’t be surprised by this, it’s all the irreparable regret caused by those religious wars in history. But Benares is still a unique city, and you will never waste your trip!” Soon, the Gondola stopped at a suitable place from the opposite bank, and we can slowly appreciate the hills piled up with houses in the depths of the blue harbor that is as beautiful as the Gulf of Naples. It looks like a beautiful ancient Roman amphitheatre. The cornerstone eroded by the river is slightly bent, and the layered palaces on it are in danger of collapsing.Among them, the Nepalese pagoda with Chinese architectural style and the countless towers, mosques and Buddhist temples with various spiers, minarets and obelisk-topped obelisks are striking.In this sea of ​​tower tops, the golden spire of the Siwa Temple and the two thin tower tops of the Orang Zeb Mosque are the most eye-catching.They make the beautiful harbor look even more charming. We didn't disembark immediately at the steps connecting the bank to the hill, and Bonkers let the gondola continue along the embankment, the foundation stone of which was completely submerged in the water. There, I saw the scene I had witnessed in Geya again, but the surrounding scene was completely different.The background is the holy city and not the green forest of the Perl Ancient River.But the content is basically the same. Thousands of pilgrims crowded the steep slopes, flats and steps on the river bank, and jumped into the river in three rows and four rows.Of course, it is impossible to have a free river bath.Guards with red turbans and waist knives stand on the last few steps and demand taxes from pilgrims, while Brahmins standing next to the guards skillfully sell religious items such as prayer beads and amulets to believers. In addition to the pilgrims who are dedicated to themselves, there are also some businessmen in the procession to bathe in the holy river.The only business they do is to transport the sacred and inviolable river water to remote areas on the peninsula for sale.In order to win the trust of the people, each bottle of water is stamped with the seal of Brahmin.But we should know how much of this miraculous liquid that is exported and exported in large quantities is a deceitful fake. "Perhaps all the water in the Ganges isn't enough to meet the needs of the Hindu believers!" Bonkers told me. So I asked him if the "bathers" were not always having accidents in the river, since so few precautions were taken.After all, there is no expert swimmer to stop those waterless daredevils from taking risks in the rapids. "Accidents do happen a lot," Bonkers replied, "but the death of the believer's body means the salvation of the soul. So people don't pay much attention to these accidents." "Aren't they afraid of crocodiles in the water?" I asked again. "The crocodiles usually stay away from people, probably frightened by the noise of the pilgrims. It is not the beasts that are frightening, but the bad guys who swim around in the water and grab the people who are bathing in the water. Women and children, drag them away and rob them of the jewelry they wear. According to the locals, there is a villain who wears a false mask and has long been pretending to be a fake crocodile. He did make a small fortune. But one day the guy was eaten by a real crocodile, and all he saw was his leather-covered head floating on the river." In addition, there are indeed religious madmen willing to go to the Ganges to seek death, and the way of death is quite particular.They put a series of empty bottles with open mouths on themselves, and the river water gradually poured into the empty bottles, and they also slowly sank to the bottom of the river amidst the cheers of believers on the bank. Gondola quickly brought us to the famous stone steps of Manmanca.There, piles of pyres for cremation were placed in layers, on which were burned the bodies of devout believers who had various concerns about their future life.In this sacred place, cremation is venerated with fervent worship by believers, and the cremation pyre is burned day and night.Rich and noble families in the outlying lands were carried to Benares when they felt that they were seriously ill and that there was no hope of recovery.This is because in the minds of Indians, Benares is without a doubt the best starting point to go to "another world".If the dead person had only made some small mistakes that can be forgiven, his soul will be carried all the way to the world of bliss by the smoke over Manmanka.On the contrary, if he is a heinous sinner, then his soul must first be reborn in some Brahmin who is about to be born.It should also be known that in his second life, if he has kept the rules, then there will be no third incarnation and he will be allowed to share in the happiness of the Brahmin Paradise. We stayed in the city for the rest of the day, visiting the main buildings and the dark and grotesquely decorated arabesque shops.It usually sells fine muslin and a gold-embroidered silk called Cankob, one of the main industrial products of Benares.The streets are very neat, but, like all tropical city streets, very narrow.Even in the shade, however, the air was just as suffocatingly hot.So I sympathized with our few bearers who seemed to have no complaints. However, these poor ghosts can take this opportunity to earn a few rupees, which is enough to double their courage and strength.But one Indian, perhaps a Bengali, stood out.He had a sharp eye, a sly countenance, and followed us with impunity throughout the entire tour. I once inadvertently said Colonel Moreau's name aloud in a conversation with Bonkers when we disembarked at the steps of Manmanca.The Bengali man who watched our gondola approach the shore couldn't help trembling when he heard it.I didn't pay much attention to this matter, but when I found that he was following us closely like a spy, I suddenly recalled that scene.From time to time, his figure disappeared from our sight, but after a while, he reappeared in front of or behind us. Is he our friend or our enemy?I don't know, but he was undoubtedly a man with a feeling for the name Colonel Moreau. Our sedan chair soon stopped by the broad steps, a hundred steps leading from the river bank to the high Orang Zeb Mosque. The former believers all imitated the Roman parishioners, climbing the steps on their knees.The Vishnu Temple was built in that era and was later replaced by the mosques of the conquerors. I wanted to climb one of the minarets of this mosque overlooking Benares. The two minarets are 130 feet high, but the diameter is less than an ordinary chimney in a factory. shaped staircase.But it is not for nothing that they are now banned from climbing.Because the two minarets have obviously deviated from the vertical direction, leaning more than the Leaning Tower of Pisa, they will one day collapse to the ground. After leaving the Orang Zeb Mosque, I found the Bengali man waiting for us at the gate.This time, I had my eyes fixed on him, and he lowered his gaze to my direct gaze.I wanted to see if the man's esoteric behavior continued before bringing it to Bonkers' attention, so I said nothing. Hundreds of stupas and mosques tower over the marvelous city of Benares.Among those magnificent palaces, the most beautiful one undoubtedly belonged to the King of Nagpur.In fact, there are not many Indians who will not come to the holy city, and they always set the date of coming to Benares during the grand religious festival of Mela. I couldn't be ambitious enough to swim through all the buildings in the few hours I had at my disposal.So I chose to visit the Bikeshwar Temple, which enshrines the god of Siva. There is a well in the temple covered with a shapeless stone, which is regarded as a part of the most ferocious god in Indian mythology. , it is said that the water in the well has miraculous effects.In addition, I also visited Mankarnica, which is commonly known as the holy spring. The believers who bathe in the spring water are the biggest source of income for Brahmins.Then, I went to Man Mandir, an observatory built by Emperor Akbar two hundred years ago. The marble-like instruments are actually made of stone. I also heard that there is a monkey palace in Benares that tourists will not miss.A Parisian would naturally think that he would see himself in his original form in front of the cage in the botanical garden.but it is not the truth. The Monkey Palace is actually a temple located in the suburbs, namely Durga Kund.It dates back to the ninth century and is one of the oldest buildings in the city.Those monkeys were not locked in cages surrounded by iron rods as rumored, but roamed freely in the courtyard, jumping from one wall to another, climbing to the top of tall mango trees or Competing for the roasted seeds and nuts brought to them by tourists, that is the food they are very greedy for.There, as elsewhere, Brahmins acted as Durga Kund's guards, taking money from tourists, which undoubtedly made Brahmins a very lucrative profession in India. The heat naturally left us exhausted, and in the evening we headed back to our steam room.We ate lunch and dinner at one of the best hotels in the English town, Sequerol, but the food there made us miss Mr. Palazard's handicraft very much. When Gondola came to the steps again and was about to take us back to the right bank of the Ganges, I once again saw the Bengalis standing two steps away from Gondola, and an Indian was waiting for him on the bank in a small boat. .He got on board.Did he want to cross the river and follow us all the way back to the bivouac?This is just too suspicious. "Bonkers," I whispered, pointing to the Bengali, uncontrollably, "this spy has been following us..." "I have seen that," replied Bonkers calmly, "and I think you have aroused Colonel Moreau's alarm by inadvertently uttering his name." "So, are we...?" I said. "No! Let him go. Better not let him know he's been spotted . . . besides, he's not there anymore," Bonkers told me. Indeed, as he said, the boat in which the Bengalis was traveling had disappeared among the various boats that flowed on the murky Ganges. Then Bonkers turned to our boatman and asked: "Do you know that guy?" he asked pretendingly indifferent. "No, this is the first time I've seen him," replied the boatman. Night fell at last.Hundreds of boats with colorful flags and colorful lanterns, full of singers and musicians, criss-cross the river that is also ostentatious.The sky above the left bank is lit with colorful fireworks, which remind me how close we are to heaven and how glorious these fireworks are.In short, it is difficult to describe the incomparable sight before us.I don't know why such a festival, attended by all classes of Indians, is held at night, it seems to be impromptu.When the festive fireworks went out, the gondola had stopped on the other side of the river. Everything is like a dream.Like a short-lived flame, it only illuminates the sky for a moment, and then it is fleeting.I have already mentioned in the previous article that Indians who believe in polytheism enshrine 300 million gods and saints, large and small.Then even if the year is divided into hours, minutes and seconds, it is not enough to bless every god. When we rushed back to the bivouac, Colonel Moreau and Mark Real had already returned.Bonkers then asked the sergeant if anything had happened while we were out. "No," Mark Rael replied curtly. "Did you see anything suspicious?" "No, Mr. Bonkers. Do you suspect..." "We've been watched while we're visiting Benares," the engineer explained. "I don't like being watched!" "That spy is..." "A Bengali man, he heard the name of Colonel Moreau and started following us every step of the way." "What does he want to do?" "I don't know, Mark Rael. But we must stay vigilant and proceed carefully!" "We will," the sergeant replied.