TRAVELS
INTO
BOKHARA,
&c. &c.

VOL. III.

London:
Printed by A. Spottiswoode,
New-Street-Square.

Drawn by W. Purser. Engraved by E. Finden.

Hydrabad on the Indus

From a sketch taken on the spot by Capt. Grindlay, in 1808.

TRAVELS
INTO
BOKHARA;
BEING THE ACCOUNT OF
A JOURNEY FROM INDIA TO CABOOL, TARTARY, AND PERSIA;

ALSO, NARRATIVE OF
A VOYAGE ON THE INDUS,
FROM THE SEA TO LAHORE,
WITH PRESENTS FROM THE KING OF GREAT BRITAIN;
PERFORMED UNDER THE ORDERS OF THE SUPREME GOVERNMENT OF INDIA, IN THE YEARS 1831, 1832, AND 1833.

BY
LIEUT. ALEX^R BURNES, F.R.S.
OF THE EAST INDIA COMPANY’S SERVICE;
AS^T POLITICAL RESIDENT IN CUTCH, AND LATE ON A MISSION TO THE COURT OF LAHORE.

----“Per syrtes iter æstuosas,

... per inhospitalem

Caucasum, vel quæ loca fabulosus

Lambit Hydaspes.”

Hor.

IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.

LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
MDCCCXXXIV.

THIS
THIRD VOLUME
OF
TRAVELS INTO BOKHARA,
CONTAINING
AN ACCOUNT OF THE RIVER INDUS,
IS INSCRIBED TO
THE MEMORY OF THE LATE
MAJOR-GENERAL SIR JOHN MALCOLM, G.C.B.
&c. &c. &c.
IN GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE,
BY
THE AUTHOR.

NARRATIVE
OF A
VOYAGE BY THE RIVER INDUS,
FROM THE SEA TO
THE COURT OF LAHORE IN THE PUNJAB,
WITH PRESENTS FROM THE KING OF GREAT BRITAIN;
COMPRISING
AN ACCOUNT OF THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE MISSION,
AND A
MEMOIR OF THE RIVER INDUS,
WITH CURSORY REMARKS ON THE REMAINS OF ANTIQUITY NEAR THAT
CLASSICAL AND CELEBRATED STREAM.

INTRODUCTION.

I was employed as an officer of the Quartermaster-general’s department, for several years, in the province of Cutch. In the course of enquiries into its geography and history, I visited the eastern mouth of the Indus, to which the country adjoins, as well as that singular tract called the “Run,” into which that river flows. The extension of our knowledge in that quarter served only to excite further curiosity, in which I was stimulated by Lieut-General Sir Thomas Bradford, then Commander-in-Chief of the Bombay army. That officer directed his views, in a most enlightened manner, to the acquisition of every information regarding a frontier so important to Britain as that of north-western India. Encouraged by such approbation, for which I am deeply grateful, I volunteered my services, in the year 1829, to traverse the deserts between India and the Indus, and finally, endeavour to descend that river to the sea. Such a journey involved matters of political moment; but the government of Bombay was then held by an individual distinguished above all others, by zeal in the cause of Asiatic geography and literature. Sir John Malcolm despatched me at once, in prosecution of the design, and was pleased to remove me to the political branch of the service, observing, that I should be then invested “with influence with the rulers, through whose country I travelled, that would tend greatly to allay that jealousy and alarm, which might impede, if they did not arrest, the progress of my enquiries.”

In the year 1830, I entered the desert, accompanied by Lieut. James Holland, of the Quartermaster-general’s department, an officer ably qualified to assist me. After reaching Jaysulmeer, we were overtaken by an express from the Supreme Government of India, desiring us to return, since at that time “it was deemed inexpedient to incur the hazard of exciting the alarm and jealousy of the rulers of Sinde, and other foreign states, by the prosecution of the design.” This disappointment, then most acutely felt, was dissipated in the following year, by the arrival of presents from the King of Great Britain for the ruler of Lahore, coupled, at the same time, with the desire that such an opportunity for acquiring correct information of the Indus should not be overlooked. The following work contains the narrative of that mission, which I conducted by the Indus to Lahore. The information which I collected, relative to Jaysulmeer and the countries on the N. W. frontier of India, has just been published in the Transactions of the Royal Geographical Society of London.

London, June 7. 1834.

CONTENTS
OF
THE THIRD VOLUME.

NARRATIVE.

CHAPTER I.

Arrival of presents from the King of England for Runjeet Sing at Lahore.

In the year 1830, a ship arrived at Bombay, with a present of five horses from the King of Great Britain to Maharaja Runjeet Sing, the Seik Chieftain at Lahore, accompanied by a letter of friendship from his majesty’s minister[1] to that prince. At the recommendation of Major-General Sir John Malcolm, then governor of Bombay, I had the honour of being nominated by the Supreme Government of India to proceed on a mission to the Seik capital, with these presents, by way of the river Indus. I held at that time a political situation in Cutch, the only portion of the British dominions in India which borders on the Indus.

Information on the Indus desiderated.

The authorities, both in England and India, contemplated that much information of a political and geographical nature might be acquired in such a journey. The knowledge which we possessed of the Indus was vague and unsatisfactory, and the only accounts of a great portion of its course were drawn from Arrian, Curtius, and the other historians of Alexander’s expedition. Sir John Malcolm thus minuted in the records of government, in August, 1830:—

“The navigation of the Indus is important in every point of view; yet we have no information that can be depended upon on this subject, except of about seventy miles from Tatta to Hyderabad. Of the present state of the Delta we have native accounts, and the only facts which can be deduced are, that the different streams of the river below Tatta, often change their channels, and that the sands of all are constantly shifting; but, notwithstanding these difficulties, boats of a small draft of water can always go up the principal of them. With regard to the Indus above Hyderabad, there can be no doubt of its being, as it has been for more than two thousand years, navigable far up.”

Arrangements.

In addition therefore to the complimentary mission on which I was to be employed, I had my attention most specially directed to the acquisition of full and complete information regarding the Indus. This was a matter of no easy accomplishment, as the Ameers, or rulers of Sinde, had ever evinced the utmost jealousy of Europeans, and none of the missions which visited the country had been permitted to proceed beyond their capital of Hyderabad. The river Indus, likewise, in its course to the ocean, traverses the territories of many lawless and barbarous tribes, from whom both opposition and insult might be dreaded. On these matters much valuable advice was derived from Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Pottinger, political resident in Cutch, and well known to the world for his adventurous travels in Beloochistan. He suggested that it might allay the fears of the Sinde government, if a large carriage were sent with the horses, since the size and bulk of it would render it obvious that the mission could then only proceed by water. This judicious proposal was immediately adopted by government; nor was it in this case alone that the experience of Colonel Pottinger availed me, as it will be seen that he evinced the most unwearied zeal throughout the difficulties which presented themselves, and contributed, in a great degree, to the ultimate success of the undertaking.

The escort.

That a better colour might also be given to my deputation by a route so unfrequented, I was made the bearer of presents to the Ameers of Sinde, and at the same time charged with communications of a political nature to them. These referred to some excesses committed by their subjects on the British frontier; but I was informed that neither that, nor any other negotiation, was to detain me in my way to Lahore. The authorities in England had desired that a suitable escort might accompany the party; but though the design was not free from some degree of danger, it was evident that no party of any moderate detail could afford the necessary protection. I preferred, therefore, the absence of any of our troops, and resolved to trust to the people of the country; believing that, through their means, I might form a link of communication with the inhabitants. Sir John Malcolm observed, in his letter to the Governor General, that “the guard will be people of the country he visits, and those familiar with it. Lieut. Burnes prefers such, on the justest grounds, to any others; finding they facilitate his progress, while they disarm that jealousy which the appearance of any of our troops excites.” Nor were my sentiments erroneous; since a guard of wild Beloochees protected us in Sinde, and allayed suspicion.

Appointed to conduct the mission to Lahore.

When these preliminary arrangements had been completed, I received my final instructions in a secret letter from the chief secretary at Bombay. I was informed that “the depth of water in the Indus, the direction and breadth of the stream, its facilities for steam navigation, the supply of fuel on its banks, and the condition of the princes and people who possess the country bordering on it, are all points of the highest interest to government; but your own knowledge and reflection will suggest to you various other particulars, in which full information is highly desirable; and the slow progress of the boats up the Indus will, it is hoped, give you every opportunity to pursue your researches.” I was supplied with all the requisite surveying instruments, and desired to draw bills on honour for my expenses. In a spirit also purely characteristic of the distinguished individual who then held the government, I received the thanks of Sir John Malcolm for my previous services; had my attention drawn to the confidence now reposed in me; and was informed that my knowledge of the neighbouring countries and the character of their inhabitants, with the local impressions by which I was certain to be aided, gave me advantages which no other individual enjoyed, and had led to my selection; nor could I but be stimulated by the manner in which Sir John Malcolm addressed the Governor General of India:—“I shall be very confident of any plan Lieut. Burnes undertakes in this quarter of India; provided a latitude is given him to act as circumstances may dictate, I dare pledge myself that the public interests will be promoted. Having had my attention much directed, and not without success, during more than thirty years, to the exploring and surveying countries in Asia, I have gained some experience, not only in the qualities and habits of the individuals by whom such enterprises can be undertaken, but of the pretexts and appearances necessary to give them success.” A young active and intelligent officer, Ensign J. D. Leckie, of the 22d Regiment N.I., was also nominated to accompany me; a surveyor, a native doctor, and suitable establishments of servants were likewise entertained.

Departure from Cutch.

We sailed from Mandivee in Cutch with a fleet of five native boats, on the morning of the 21st of January, 1831. On the day succeeding our departure, we had cleared the Gulf of Cutch. The danger in navigating it has been exaggerated. The eddies and dirty appearance of the sea, which boils up and bubbles like an effervescing draught, present a frightful aspect to a stranger, but the natives traverse it at all seasons. It is tolerably free from rocks, and the Cutch shore is sandy with little surf, and presents inducements for vessels in distress to run in upon the land. We passed a boat of fifty tons, which had escaped shipwreck, with a very valuable cargo from Mozambique, the preceding year, by this expedient.

Ability of the Cutch navigators.

Among the timid navigators of the East, the mariner of Cutch is truly adventurous; he voyages to Arabia, the Red Sea, and the coast of Zanguebar in Africa, bravely stretching out on the ocean after quitting his native shore. The “moallim” or pilot determines his position by an altitude at noon or by the stars at night, with a rude quadrant. Coarse charts depict to him the bearings of his destination, and, by long-tried seamanship, he weathers, in an undecked boat with a huge lateen sail, the dangers and tornadoes of the Indian Ocean. This use of the quadrant was taught by a native of Cutch, who made a voyage to Holland in the middle of last century, and returned, “in a green old age,” to enlighten his country with the arts and sciences of Europe. The most substantial advantages introduced by this improver of his country were the arts of navigating and naval architecture, in which the inhabitants of Cutch excel. For a trifling reward, a Cutch mariner will put to sea in the rainy season, and the adventurous feeling is encouraged by the Hindoo merchants of Mandivee, an enterprising and speculating body of men.

Arrival in the Indus.

On the evening of the 24th we had cleared the Gulf of Cutch, and anchored in the mouth of the Koree, the eastern, though forsaken, branch of the Indus, which separates Sinde from Cutch. The Koree leads to Lueput, and is the largest of all the mouths of the river, having become a branch of the sea as the fresh water has been turned from its channel. There are many spots on its banks hallowed in the estimation of the people. Cotasir and Narainseer are places of pilgrimage to the Hindoo, and stand upon it and the western promontory of Cutch. Opposite them lies the cupola of Rao Kanoje, beneath which there rests a saint, revered by the Mahommedans. To defraud this personage of frankincense, grain, oil, and money, in navigating the Koree, would entail, it is superstitiously believed, certain shipwreck. In the reverence we recognise the dangers and fear of the mariner. There is a great contrast between the shores of Sinde and Cutch; the one is flat and depressed, nearly to a level with the sea, while the hills of Cutch rise in wild and volcanic cones, which meet the eye long after the coast has faded from the view. We gladly exchanged this grandeur for the dull monotony of the shores of Sinde, unvaried, as it is, by any other signs of vegetation than stunted shrubs, whose domain is invaded by each succeeding tide.

NATIVES of CUTCH.

Lith.^d. for Burnes’ Travels into Bokhara,__by Day & Haghe Lith.^rs to the King.

John Murray Albemarle S^t. 1834.

On Stone by L. Haghe. Captn. R. M. Grindlay delt.

Coast of Sinde.

We followed the Sinde coast for four or five days, passing all the mouths of the Indus, eleven in number, the principal of which we entered and examined, without even the observation of the inhabitants. There was little indication of our being near the estuary of so great a river, for the water was only fresh a mile off shore from the Gora, or largest mouth of the Indus; and the junction of the river water with that of the sea was formed without violence, and might be now and then discovered by a small streak of foam and a gentle ripple. The number and subdivision of the branches diminish, no doubt, the velocity as well as the volume of the Indus; but it would be supposed that so vast a river would exercise an influence in the sea far from its embouchure; and, I believe, this is really the case in the months of July and August, during the inundation. The waters of the Indus are so loaded with mud and clay, as to discolour the sea for about three miles from the land. Opposite its different mouths numberless brown specks are to be seen, called “pit” by the natives. I found them, on examination, to be round globules, filled with water, and easily burst. When placed on a plate, they were about the size of a shilling, and covered by a brown skin. These specks are considered by the pilots to denote the presence of fresh water among the salt; for they believe them to be detached from the sand banks, by the meeting of the sea and the river. They give a particularly dirty and oily appearance to the water.

Anchor on the Indus.

At night-fall on the 28th, we cast anchor in the western mouth of the Indus, called the Pittee. The coast of Sinde is not distinguishable a league from the shore. There is not a tree to be seen, though the mirage sometimes magnifies the stunted shrubs of the Delta, and gives them a tall and verdant appearance; a delusion that vanishes with a nearer approach. From our anchorage, a white fortified tomb, in the Bay of Curachee, was visible north-west of us; and beyond it lay a rocky range of black mountains, called Hala, the Irus of Nearchus. I here read from Arrian and Quintus Curtius the passages of this memorable scene in Alexander’s expedition, the mouth from which his admiral, Nearchus, took his departure from Sinde. The river did not exceed 500 yards in width, instead of the 200 stadia (furlongs) of Arrian, and the twelve miles, which more modern accounts had assigned to it, on the authority of the natives. But there was still some resemblance to the Greek author; for the hills over Curachee form with the intervening country a semicircular bay, in which an island and some sand-banks might lead a stranger to believe, that the ocean was yet distant. “Alexander sent two long galleys before the fleet, towards the ocean, to view a certain island, which they called Cillutas, where his pilots told him he might go on shore before he entered the main ocean; and when they assured him that it was a large island, and had commodious harbours, besides plenty of fresh water, he commanded the rest of the fleet to put in there, while he himself passed out to sea.” The island, as it now exists, is scantily covered with herbage, and destitute of fresh water. In vain I sought an identity of name in the Indian dialect, for it was nameless; but it presented a safe place of anchorage; and, as I looked upon it, I could not but think it was that Cillutas where the hero of Macedon, “drawing up his fleet under a promontory, sacrificed to the gods, as he had received orders from Ammon.” Here it was, too, that Nearchus caused “a canal to be dug, of about five stadia in length, where the earth was easiest to remove; as soon as the tide began to rise they got their whole fleet safe through that passage into the ocean.” The Greek admiral only availed himself of the experience of the people; for it is yet customary among the natives of Sinde to dig shallow canals, and leave the tides or river to deepen them; and a distance of five stadia, or half a mile, would call for no great labour. It is not to be supposed that sand-banks will continue unaltered for centuries; but I may observe, that there was a large bank contiguous to the island, between it and which a passage like that of Nearchus might have been dug with the greatest advantage. “Having sailed from the mouth of the Indus, Nearchus came to a sandy island, called Crocola, and proceeded on his voyage, having the mountain Irus on his right hand.” The topography is here more accurate: two sandy islands, called Andry, lie off Curachee, at a distance of eighteen miles from the Indus; and it is worthy of remark, that that portion of the Delta through which the Pittee runs, is yet denominated “Crocola” by the natives.

Ebb and flow of the tides.

But the ebb and flow of the tides were an object of the greatest surprise to Alexander’s fleet, and we could soon discover the cause of their astonishment, for two of our boats stranded at a spot where, half an hour previously, there had been abundance of water. The tides inundate the country with great impetuosity, and recede as rapidly, so that if a vessel be not in the channel, she will be left on shore. Arrian observes, that “while they continued in that station, an accident happened which astonished them; namely, the ebbing and flowing of the waters, like as in the great ocean, inasmuch that the ships were left upon dry ground, which Alexander and his friends never having perceived before, were so much the more surprised. But what increased their astonishment was, that the tide returning a short while after began to heave the ships, so that * * * some of them were swept away by the fury of the tide, and dashed to pieces, and others driven against the bank, and destroyed.”[2]

Quintus Curtius’s description of Alexander’s disasters.

A graphic and animated description of these disasters of the Greeks has been likewise given by Quintus Curtius, and is nowhere more remarkable than in the allusion to the “knolls” rising above the river like “little islands,” for at full tide the mangrove shrubs present exactly that appearance; but let the author speak in his own words:—

“About the third hour, the ocean, according to a regular alternation, began to flow in furiously, driving back the river. The river, at first, resisted; then impressed with a new force, rushed upwards with more impetuosity than torrents descend a precipitous channel. The mass on board, unacquainted with the nature of the tide, saw only prodigies and symbols of the wrath of the gods. Ever and anon the sea swelled; and on plains, recently dry, descended a diffused flood. The vessels lifted from their stations, and the whole fleet dispersed; those who had debarked, in terror and astonishment at the calamity, ran from all quarters towards the ships. But tumultuous hurry is slow. * * * Vessels dash together, and oars are by turns snatched away, to impel other galleys. A spectator would not imagine a fleet carrying the same army; but hostile navies commencing a battle. * * * * Now the tide had inundated all the fields skirting the river, only tops of knolls rising above it like little islands; to these, from the evacuated ships, the majority swam in consternation. The dispersed fleet was partly riding in deep water, where the land was depressed into dells; and partly resting on shoals, where the tide had covered elevated ground; suddenly breaks on the Macedonians a new alarm more vivid than the former. The sea began to ebb; the deluge, with a violent drain, to retreat into the frith, disclosing tracts just before deeply buried. Unbayed, the ships pitched some upon their prows, others upon their sides. The fields were strewed with baggage, arms, loose planks, and fragments of oars. The soldiers scarcely believed what they suffered and witnessed. Shipwrecks on dry land, the sea in a river. Nor yet ended their unhappiness; for ignorant that the speedy return of the tide would set their ships afloat, they predicted to themselves famine and death. Terrifying monsters, too, left by the waves, were gliding about at random.” Our little fleet did not encounter such calamity and alarm as that of Nearchus; for, in Q. Curtius’s words,—“by a gradual diffusion, the inundation began to raise the ships, presently flooding all the fields, set the fleet in motion.”

Reflections.

I shall not now dwell on these subjects, though eminently interesting; but, in the course of my narrative, I shall endeavour to identify the modern Indus with the features of remoter times. If successful in the enquiry, we shall add to our amusement, and the interest of the chronicles themselves. It is difficult to describe the enthusiasm one feels on first beholding the scenes which have exercised the genius of Alexander. That hero has reaped the immortality which he so much desired, and transmitted the history of his conquests, allied with his name, to posterity. A town or a river, which lies on his route, has acquired a celebrity that time serves only to increase; and, while we gaze on the Indus, we connect ourselves, at least in association, with the ages of distant glory. Nor can I pass over such feelings without observing, that they are productive of the most solid advantages to history and science. The Scamander has an immortality which the vast Mississippi itself can never eclipse, and the descent of the Indus by Alexander of Macedon is, perhaps, the most authentic and best attested event of profane history.

Visited by the Sinde authorities.

The jealousy of the Sinde government had been often experienced, and it was therefore suggested that we should sail for the Indus, without giving any previous information. Immediately on anchoring, I despatched a communication to the agent of the Ameers at Darajee, signifying my plans; and, in the meanwhile, ascended the river with caution, anchoring in the fresh water on the second evening, thirty-five miles from the sea. Near the mouth of the river we passed a rock stretching across the stream, which is particularly mentioned by Nearchus, who calls it a “dangerous rock,” and is the more remarkable, since there is not even a stone below Tatta in any other part of the Indus. We passed many villages, and had much to enliven and excite our attention, had we not purposely avoided all intercourse with the people till made acquainted with the fate of our intimation to the authorities at Darajee. A day passed in anxious suspense; but, on the following morning, a body of armed men crowded round our boats, and the whole neighbourhood was in a state of the greatest excitement. The party stated themselves to be the soldiers of the Ameer, sent to number our party, and see the contents of all the boats, as well as every box that they contained. I gave a ready and immediate assent; and we were instantly boarded by about fifty armed men, who wrenched open every thing, and prosecuted the most rigorous search for cannon and gunpowder. Mr. Leckie and myself stood by in amazement, till it was at length demanded that the box containing the large carriage should be opened; for they pretended to view it as the Greeks had looked on the wooden horse, and believed that it would carry destruction into Sinde. A sight of it disappointed their hopes; and we must be conjurors, it was asserted, to have come without arms and ammunition.

Retire to the mouth of the Indus.

When the search had been completed, I entered into conversation with the head man of the party, and had hoped to establish, by his means, a friendly connection with the authorities; but after a short pause, this personage, who was a Reis of Lower Sinde, intimated, that a report of the day’s transactions would be forthwith transmitted to Hydrabad; and that, in the meanwhile, it was incumbent on us to await the decision of the Ameer, at the mouth of the river. The request appeared reasonable; and the more so, since the party agreed to furnish us with every supply while so situated. We therefore weighed anchor, and dropped down the river; but here our civilities ended. By the way we were met by several “dingies” full of armed men, and at night were hailed by one of them, to know how many troops we had on board. We replied, that we had not even a musket. “The evil is done,” rejoined a rude Belooche soldier, “you have seen our country; but we have four thousand men ready for action!” To this vain-glorious observation succeeded torrents of abuse; and when we reached the mouth of the river, the party fired their matchlocks over us; but I dropped anchor, and resolved, if possible, to repel these insults by personal remonstrance. It was useless; we were surrounded by ignorant barbarians, who shouted out in reply to all I said, that they had been ordered to turn us out of the country. I protested against their conduct in the most forcible language; reminded them that I was the representative, however humble, of a great Government, charged with presents from Royalty; and added, that, without a written document from their master, I should decline quitting Sinde. Quit the country. An hour’s delay served to convince me that personal violence would ensue, if I persisted in such a resolution; and as it was not my object to risk the success of the enterprise by such collision, I sailed for the most eastern mouth of the Indus, from which I addressed the authorities in Sinde, as well as Colonel Pottinger, the Resident in Cutch.

Communications with the Ameer.

I was willing to believe that the soldiers had exceeded the authority which had been granted them; and was speedily put in possession of a letter from the Ameer, couched in friendly terms, but narrating, at great length, the difficulty and impossibility of navigating the Indus. “The boats are so small,” said his Highness, “that only four or five men can embark in one of them; their progress is likewise slow; they have neither masts not sails; and the depth of water in the Indus is likewise so variable as not to reach, in some places, the knee or waist of a man.” But this formidable enumeration of physical obstacles was coupled with no refusal from the Ruler himself; and it seemed expedient, therefore, to make a second attempt, after replying to his Highness’s letter.

Return to Sinde.

On the 10th of February we again set sail for Sinde; but at midnight, on the 14th, were overtaken by a fearful tempest, which scattered our little fleet. Two of the vessels were dismasted; we lost our small boat, split our sails, sprung a leak; and, after being buffeted about for some days by the fury of the winds and waves, succeeded in getting an observation of the sun, which enabled us to steer our course, and finally conducted us in safety to Sinde. One of the other four boats alone followed us. We now anchored in the Pieteanee mouth of the Indus, and I forthwith despatched the following document, by a trustworthy messenger, to the agents at Darajee.

Fruitless negotiations.

1. “Let it be known to the Government agent at Darajee, that this is the memorandum of Mr. Burnes (sealed with his seal, and written in the Persian language in his own handwriting), the representative (vakeel) of the English to the Ameer of Sinde, and likewise the bearer of presents to Maharaja Runjeet Sing from the King of England.

2. “I came to the Indus a few days ago; and you searched my baggage, that you might report the contents thereof to your master. I have now returned, and await an answer.

3. “You may send any number of armed men that you please; my life is in your power; but remember that the Ameer will hold every one responsible who molests me. Remember, too, that I am a British officer, and have come without a musket or a soldier (as you well know); placing implicit reliance on the protection of the ruler of Sinde, to whose care my Government have committed me.

4. “I send this memorandum by two of my own servants, and look to you for their being protected.”

This remonstrance drew no reply from the agent at Darajee; for the individual who had held the situation on our first visit to Sinde, had been dismissed for permitting us to ascend the river; and our servants brought us notice that we should not be permitted to land, nor to receive either food or water. We observed, therefore, the greatest possible economy in the distribution of our provisions, and placed padlocks on the tanks, in the hope of reason yet guiding the councils of the Ameer. When our supply of water failed, I despatched a small boat up the river to procure some; but it was seized, and the party detained; which now rendered us hopeless of success, and only anxious to quit the inhospitable shores of Sinde.

Imminent danger on the Indus. Quit Sinde.

On the 22d of February we weighed our anchor, at daylight; and when in the narrow mouth of the river, the wind suddenly changed. The tide, which ran with terrific violence, cast us on the breakers of the bar; the sea rolled over us, and we struck the ground at each succeeding wave. In despair, the anchor was dropped; and when we thought only of saving our lives, we found our vessel had rubbed over the breakers of the bank, and floated. I admired the zeal and bravery of our crew; and was much struck with their pious ejaculations to the tutelar saint of Cutch, Shah Peer, when they found themselves beyond the reach of danger. “Oh! holy and generous saint,” shouted the whole crew, “you are truly good.” Frankincense was forthwith burned to his honour; and a sum of money was collected, and hallowed by its fragrance, as the property of the saint. The amount subscribed testified the sincerity of the poor men’s gratitude; and if I believed not the efficacy of the offering, I refused not, on that account, to join, by their request, in the manifestations of their duty and gratitude. Our other vessel, not so fortunate as ourselves, was cast on shore, though on a less dangerous bank. We rendered her assistance, and sailed for Cutch, and anchored in Mandivee roads after a surprising run of thirty-three hours.

Negotiations with the Ameer.

It could not now be concealed that the conduct of the Ameer of Sinde was most unfriendly; but he yet betrayed no such feeling in his letters. He magnified the difficulties of navigating the Indus, and arrayed its rocks, quicksands, whirlpools, and shallows, in every communication; asserting that the voyage to Lahore had never been performed in the memory of man. It was evident that he viewed the expedition with the utmost distrust and alarm; and the native agent, who resides at Hydrabad on the part of the British Government, described, not without some degree of humour, the fear and dread of this jealous potentate. In his estimation, we were the precursors of an army; and did he now desire to grant us a passage through Sinde, he was at a loss to escape from the falsehoods and contradictions which he had already stated in his epistles. One letter went on to say, that “the Ameer of Sinde avoids giving any reply, lest he should be involved in perplexity; and he has stopped his ears with the cotton of absurdity, and taken some silly notions into his head, that if Captain Burnes should now come, he will see thousands of boats on the Indus, and report the same to his Government, who will conclude that it is the custom of the Ameer of Sinde to deceive on all subjects, and that he has no sort of friendship.” At length, after a remonstrance from Colonel Pottinger, both he and myself received letters from Hydrabad, offering a road through Sinde by land. As this might be fairly deemed the first opening which had presented itself during the whole negotiation, with the advice of Colonel Pottinger I set out a third time for the Indus. That officer in the meanwhile intimated my departure to the Ameer, and pointed out the impossibility of my proceeding by land to Lahore. He also intimated, in no measured language, that the vacillating and unfriendly conduct of the Ameer of Sinde would not pass unnoticed; the more particularly, since it concerned the passage of gifts, which had been sent by his most gracious Majesty the King of Great Britain.

Third voyage to the Indus.

On the 10th of March we once more set sail for the Indus; and reached the Hujamree, one of the central mouths of the river, after a prosperous voyage of seven days. We could hire no pilot to conduct us across the bar, and took the wrong and shallow mouth of the river, ploughing up the mud as we tacked in its narrow channel. The foremost vessel loosened her red ensign when she had fairly reached the deep water; and, with the others, we soon and joyfully anchored near her. We were now met by an officer of the Sinde Government, one of the favoured descendants of the Prophet, whose enormous corpulence bespoke his condition. This personage came to the mouth of the river; for we were yet refused all admittance to the fresh water. He produced a letter from the Ameer, and repeated the same refuted arguments of his master, which he seemed to think should receive credit from his high rank. It would be tiresome to follow the Sindians through the course of chicanery which they adopted, even in this stage of the proceedings. An embargo was laid on all the vessels in the Indus; and we ourselves were confined to our boats, on a dangerous shore, and even denied fresh water. The officer urged the propriety of our taking a route by land; and, as a last resource, I offered to accompany him to the capital, and converse with the Ameer in person, having previously landed the horses. Land in Sinde. I made known this arrangement by a courier, which I despatched to the Court; and on the following morning quitted the boats, along with Syud Jeendul Shah, who had been appointed our Mihmandar.[3] No sooner had we reached Tatta, than the required sanction for the boats to ascend by the Indus was received, provided we ourselves took the land route; but I immediately declined to advance another step without my charge; and ultimately effected, by a week’s negotiation at Tatta, the desired end. At the expense of being somewhat tedious, I will give an abstract of these proceedings as a specimen of Sindian policy and reasoning.

Negotiations at Tatta.

A few hours after reaching Tatta, Syud Zoolfkar Shah, a man of rank, and engaging manners, waited on us on the part of the Ameer. He was accompanied by our Mihmandar, and met us very politely. He said that he had been sent by his Highness to escort us to Hydrabad; to which I laconically replied, that nothing would now induce me to go, since the Ameer had conceded the request which I had made of him. The Syud here marshalled all his eloquence; asked me if I wished to ruin the Mihmandar, by making him out a liar, after I had promised to accompany him to the Court, and he had written so to the Ameer; if I had no regard for a promise; that the capital was close at hand, and I could reach it in two marches; that, if I did not now go, it could only be inferred that I had been practising delusion, from a desire to see Tatta; for I had even been allowed to choose the route by that city, contrary to orders; and that I was not, perhaps, aware of the high character of the Syud, who was a descendant of the holy Prophet, and honourable in this land; whose dignity, the Christians, who preserved even the relic of Jesus Christ’s nail, could well understand; and that it was not the part of a wise man to cavil like a moollah, since the Ameer had sanctioned the advance of the mission by water, if we embarked at Hydrabad, and would be answerable for the safety of the horses to that place; and, finally, that if I persisted in taking the route by water, he was desired to say that it was a violation of the treaty between the states.

I heard with attention the arguments of Zoolfkar Shah; nor did I forget that the praises and respect which he claimed for his friend, as a descendant of the Prophet, likewise included himself. I replied, that there had existed a long standing friendship between Sinde and the British Government; that I had been despatched by a well frequented route, to deliver the presents of our gracious Sovereign to Runjeet Sing at Lahore; that, on reaching Sinde, I had been insulted, abused, starved, and twice turned out of the country by low persons, whom I named; that my Government, which was ever considerate, had attributed this unheard-of insolence, not to their friend, the Ameer of Sinde, but to the ignorance of mean individuals, and had despatched me a third time to Sinde: when I reached it, I found Syud Jeendul Shah ready to receive me; but although thoroughly satisfied that the presents of which I was in charge could never be forwarded by land, he offered me that route, and detained me on board ship for eleven days, till necessity had driven me to make a proposal of repairing in person to the presence of the Ameer, in hopes of persuading that personage. The case was now altered; the water route had been granted, which rendered my visit to Hydrabad unnecessary; and I could only view the present procedure in the light of jealousy, which it was unbecoming in a Government to entertain. I continued, that I had chosen the route by Tatta, because my bills were payable at that city; and the sooner the Syud got his master to meet my wishes, the better; for the floods of the Indus were at hand, the hot season approached, and delay would increase the hazard; while no arguments but force would now induce me to visit the Court, or permit the horses to be moved without my presence. In fine, if it were not the intention of the Ameer to act a friendly part, he had only to say so, and I would forthwith quit the country when I received a letter to that effect; and finally, that he had formed a very erroneous opinion of the British character, if he considered that I had been sent here in breach of a treaty, for I had come to strengthen the bonds of union; and, what was further, that the promise of an officer was sacred.

Address the Ameer.

An interview in the following morning, brought a repetition of the whole arguments; and as we could not convince each other, we both agreed to address his Highness. After the style of Asiatic diplomacy, I informed the Ameer, “that he had acted the part of a friend, in first pointing out the difficulties of navigating the Indus, and now assisting me through them by giving his sanction to the water route; but since I was so thoroughly acquainted, through his Highness’s kindness, with the dangers of the river, I dared not trust such royal rarities, as the gifts of the King of Great Britain, to the care of any servant.” Success. In three days I received a full and unqualified sanction to advance by water from the mouth of the Indus. I gladly quit the detail of occurrences which have left few pleasing reflections behind, except that success ultimately attended our endeavours, and that they elicited the approbation of Government. The Ameer of Sinde had sought to keep us in ignorance of the Indus; but his treatment had led to another and opposite effect; since we had entered, in the course of out several voyages, all the mouths of the river, and a map of them, as well as of the land route to Tatta, now lay before me. Our dangers on the banks and shoals had been imminent; but we looked back upon them with the pleasing thought, that our experience might guide others through them.

CHAP. II.
TATTA TO HYDRABAD.

Tatta.

A week’s stay was agreeably spent in examining Tatta and the objects of curiosity which surround it. The city stands at a distance of three miles from the Indus. It is celebrated in the history of the East. Its commercial prosperity passed away with the empire of Delhi, and its ruin has been completed since it fell under the iron despotism of the present rulers of Sinde. It does not contain a population of 15,000 souls; and of the houses scattered about its ruins, one half are destitute of inhabitants. It is said, that the dissentions between the last and present dynasties, which led to Sinde being overrun by the Afghans, terrified the merchants of the city, who fled the country at that time, and have had no encouragement to return. Of the weavers of “loongees” (a kind of silk and cotton manufacture), for which this place was once so famous, but 125 families remain. There are not forty merchants[4] in the city. Twenty money-changers transact all the business of Tatta; and its limited population is now supplied with animal food by five butchers. Such has been the gradual decay of that mighty city, so populous in the early part of last century, in the days of Nadir Shah. The country in its vicinity lies neglected, and but a small portion of it is brought under tillage.

Its antiquity.

The antiquity of Tatta is unquestioned. The Pattala of the Greeks has been sought for in its position, and, I believe, with good reason; for the Indus here divides into two great branches; and these are the words of the historian:—“Near Pattala, the river Indus divides itself into two vast branches.”[5] Both Robertson and Vincent appear to have entertained the opinion of its identity with Tatta. The Hindoo Rajas named it Sameenuggur, before the Mahommedan invasion; which I believe to be the Minagur of the Periplus. There is a ruined city, called Kullancote, to be yet seen, four miles S.W. of Tatta. It was also named Brahminabad, and ruled by one brother, while another held Hydrabad, then called Nerancote; the Arabs called it Dewul Sindy. Nuggur Tatta (by which it is now familiarly known) is a more modern name. Till the Talpoors secured their present footing in Sinde, it was always the capital of the country. It is an open town, built on a rising ground in a low valley. In several wells I found bricks imbedded in earth, at a depth of twenty feet from the surface; but there are no remains of a prior date to the tombs, on a remarkable ridge westward of the town, which are about 200 years old. The houses are formed of wood and wicker-work, plastered over with earth; they are lofty, with flat roofs, but very confined, and resemble square towers; their colour, which is of a greyish murky hue, gives an appearance of solidity to the frail materials of which they are constructed. Some of the better sort have a base of brickwork; but stone has only been used in the foundations of one or two mosques, though it may be had in abundance. There is little in modern Tatta to remind one of its former greatness. A spacious brick mosque, built by Shah Jehan, still remains, but is crumbling to decay.

Hinglaj, a famous pilgrimage.

Tatta stands on the high road from India to Hinglaj, in Mekran, a place of pilgrimage and great celebrity, situated under the barren mountains of Hala (the Irus of the ancients), and marked only by a spring of fresh water, without house or temple. The spot is believed to have been visited by Ramchunder, the Hindoo demi-god, himself; an event which is chronicled on the rock, with figures of the sun and moon engraven as further testimony! The distance from Tatta exceeds 200 miles; and the road passes by Curachee, Soumeeanee, and the province of Lus, the country of the Noomrees, a portion of the route of Alexander the Great. A journey to Hinglaj purifies the pilgrim from his sins; a cocoa-nut, cast into a cistern, exhibits the nature of his career: if the water bubbles up, his life has been, and will continue, pure; but if still and silent, the Hindoo must undergo further penance, to appease the deity. The tribe of Goseins, who are a kind of religious mendicants, though frequently merchants and most wealthy, frequent this sequestered place, and often extend their journey to an island called Seetadeep, not far from Bunder Abbass, in Persia. They travel in caravans of an hundred, or even more, under an “agwa,” or spiritual guide. At Tatta they are furnished by the high-priest with a rod, which is supposed to partake of his own virtues, and to conduct the cortège to its destination. In exchange for its talismanic powers, each pilgrim pays three rupees and a half, and faithfully promises to restore the rod on his return; for no one dares to reside in so holy and solitary a spot. The “agwa” receives with it his reward; and many a Hindoo expends in this pilgrimage the hard-earned wealth of a whole life. On his arrival at Tatta from Hinglaj, he is invested with a string of white beads, peculiar to that city, and only found on the rocky ridge near it. They resemble the grains of pulse or juwaree; and the pilgrim has the satisfaction of believing that they are the petrified grain of the Creator, left on earth to remind him of his creation. They now form a monopoly and source of profit to the priests of Tatta.

Climate. Return to the mouth of the Indus.

We quitted Tatta on the morning of the 10th of April, and retraced our steps to Meerpoor; a distance of twenty-four miles, over roads nearly impassable from rain. I observe, in Hamilton’s “India,” that there is frequently a dearth of it here for three years at a time; but we had very heavy showers and a severe fall of hail, though the thermometer stood at 86°. The dews and mists about Tatta make it a disagreeable residence at this season; and the dust is described as intolerable in June and July.

Our road lay through a desert country along the “Buggaur;” one of the two large branches of the Indus, which separate below Tatta. It has its name from the destructive velocity with which it runs, tearing up trees in its course. It has been forsaken for a few years past, and had only a width of 200 yards where we crossed it, below Meerpoor. The Indus itself, before this division takes place, is a noble river; and we beheld it at Tatta with high gratification. The water is foul and muddy; but it is 2000 feet wide, two fathoms and a half deep, from shore to shore. When I first saw it, the surface was agitated by a violent wind, which had raised up waves, that raged with great fury; and I no longer felt wonder at the natives designating so vast a river by the name of “durya,” or the Sea of Sinde.

Notions of the people.

On our return, we saw much of the people, who were disposed from the first to treat us more kindly than the government. Their notions regarding us were strange: some asked us why we allowed dogs to clean our hands after a meal, and if we indiscriminately ate cats and mice, as well as pigs. They complained much of their rulers, and the ruinous and oppressive system of taxation to which they were subjected, as it deterred them from cultivating any considerable portion of land. Immense tracts of the richest soil lie in a state of nature, between Tatta and the sea, overgrown with tamarisk shrubs, which attain, in some places, the height of twenty feet, and, threading into one another, form impervious thickets. At other places, we passed extensive plains of hard-caked clay, with remains of ditches and aqueducts, now neglected. We reached the sea in two days.

Alexander’s journey.

Arrian informs us, that, after Alexander returned from viewing the right branch of the Indus, he again set out from Pattala, and descended the other branch of the river, which conducted him to a “certain lake, joined either by the river spreading wide over a flat country, or by additional streams flowing into it from the adjacent parts, and making it appear like a bay in the sea.” There, too, he commanded another haven to be built, named Xylenopolis. The professed object of this second voyage to the sea was to seek for bays and creeks on the sea-coast, and to explore which of the two branches would afford the greatest facilities for the passage of his fleet; for Arrian says, “he had a vast ambition of sailing all through the sea, from India to Persia, to prove that the Indian Gulf had a communication with the Persian.” In this bay Alexander landed, with a party of horse, and travelled along the coast, to try if he could find bays and creeks to secure his fleets from storms; “causing wells to be dug, to supply his navy with water.” I look upon it, therefore, as conclusive that Alexander the Great descended by the Buggaur and Sata, the two great branches below Tatta, and never entered Cutch, as has been surmised, but that his three days’ journey, after descending the eastern branch, was westward, and between the two mouths, in the direction his fleet was to sail.

Embark on the Indus. Boats.

On the 12th of April, we embarked in the flat-bottomed boats, or “doondees,” of Sinde, and commenced our voyage on the Indus, with no small degree of satisfaction. Our fleet consisted of six of these flat-bottomed vessels, and a small English-built pinnace, which we had brought from Cutch. The boats of the Indus are not unlike China junks, very capacious, but most unwieldy. They are floating houses; and with ourselves we transported the boatmen, their wives and families, kids and fowls. When there is no wind, they are pulled up against the stream, by ropes attached to the mast-head, at the rate of a mile and a half an hour; but with a breeze, they set a large square-sail, and advance double the distance. We halted at Vikkur, which is the first port; a place of considerable export for grain, that had then fifty “doondees,” besides sea-vessels, lying near it.

Wanyanee branch.

On the 13th, we threaded many small creeks for a distance of eight miles, and then entered the Wanyanee, or principal branch of the Indus, which is a fine river, 500 yards broad and 24 feet deep. Its banks were alternately steep and flat, the course very crooked, and the different turnings were often marked by branches running from this trunk to other arms of the delta. We had nothing but tamarisk on either bank, and the reed huts of a few fishermen, alone indicated that we were in a peopled country.

A holy man.

As we ascended the river, the inhabitants came for miles around to see us. A Syud stood on the water’s edge, and gazed with astonishment. He turned to his companion as we passed, and, in the hearing of one of our party, said, “Alas! Sinde is now gone, since the English have seen the river, which is the road to its conquest.” If such an event do happen, I am certain that the body of the people will hail the happy day; but it will be an evil one for the Syuds, the descendants of Mahommed, who are the only people, besides the rulers, that derive precedence and profit from the existing order of things.

Strictness of religious observances.

Nothing more arrests the notice of a stranger, on entering Sinde, than the severe attention of the people to the forms of religion, as enjoined by the Prophet of Arabia. In all places, the meanest and poorest of mankind may be seen, at the appointed hours, turned towards Mecca, offering up their prayers. I have observed a boatman quit the laborious duty of dragging the vessel against the stream, and retire to the shore, wet and covered with mud, to perform his genuflexions. In the smallest villages, the sound of the “mowuzzun,” or crier, summoning true believers to prayers, may be heard, and the Mahommedans within reach of the sonorous sound suspend, for the moment, their employment, that they may add their “Amen” to the solemn sentence when concluded. The effect is pleasing and impressive; but, as has often happened in other countries at a like stage of civilisation, the moral qualities of the people do not keep pace with this fervency of devotion.

Navigation of the Indus.

On the evening of the 15th, we anchored at Tatta, after a prosperous voyage, that afforded a good insight into the navigation of the Indus; which, in the Delta, is both dangerous and difficult. The water runs with impetuosity from one bank to another, and undermines them so, that they often fall in masses which would crush a vessel. During night they may be heard tumbling with a terrific crash and a noise as loud as artillery. In one place, the sweep of the river was so sudden that it had formed a kind of whirlpool, and all our vessels heeled round, on passing it, from the rapidity of the current. We had every where six fathoms of water, and in these eddies the depth was sometimes threefold; but our vessels avoided the strength of the current, and shifted from side to side, to choose the shallows.

Pulla fish.

We ascended the Indus in the season of the “pulla,” a fish of the carp species, as large as the mackerel, and fully equalling the flavour of salmon. It is only found in the four months that precede the swell of the river from January to April, and never higher than the fortress of Bukkur. The natives superstitiously believe the fish to proceed there on account of Khaju Khizr, a saint of celebrity, who is interred there, from whence they are said to return without ever turning their tails on the sanctified spot,—an assertion which the muddy colour of the Indus will prevent being contradicted. The mode of catching this fish is ingenious, and peculiar, I believe, to the Indus. Each fisherman is provided with a large earthen jar, open at the top, and somewhat flat. On this he places himself, and, lying on it horizontally, launches into the stream, swimming or pushing forward like a frog, and guiding himself with his hands. When he has reached the middle of the river, where the current is strongest, he darts his net directly under him, and sails down with the stream. The net consists of a pouch attached to a pole, which he shuts on meeting his game; he then draws it up, spears it, and, putting it into the vessel on which he floats, prosecutes his occupation. There are some vessels of small dimensions, without any orifice, and on these the fishermen sail down, in a sitting posture. Hundreds of people, old and young, may be seen engaged in catching pulla, and the season is hailed with joy by the people, as furnishing a wholesome food while it lasts, and an abundant supply of dry fish for the remaining part of the year, as well as for exportation to the neighbouring countries.

Reach the capital.

On the morning of the 18th, we moored opposite Hydrabad, which is five miles inland, having had a strong and favourable breeze from Tatta, that brought us against the stream, at the rate of three miles an hour. The dust was intolerable every where, and a village might always be discovered by the dense clouds which hovered over it. This part of Sinde is well known: the country is devoted to sterility by the Ameers, to feed their passion for the chase. The banks are enclosed to the water’s edge, and the interior of these hunting-thickets is overgrown with furze, brushwood, and stunted babool trees, which always retain a verdant hue, from the richness of the soil. One or two solitary camels were to be seen raising water to fill the pools of these preserves, as the Ameer and his relatives had announced a hunting excursion, and the deer[6] would be drawn by thirst to drink at the only fountain, and shot by an Ameer from a place of concealment. It is thus that the chiefs sport with their game and their subjects.

Deputation from the Ameer.

Immediately on our arrival, four different deputations waited on us, to convey the congratulations of Meer Moorad Ali Khan, and his family, at our having reached the capital of Sinde, and at the same time to tender the strongest professions of friendship and respect for the British government; to all of which I returned suitable answers. In the evening we were conducted to Hydrabad, and alighted at the house, or “tanda,” of Nawab Wulee Mahommed Khan, the Vizier of Sinde, whose son, in the father’s absence, was appointed our mihmandar. Tents were pitched, and provisions of every description sent to us; and it would, indeed, have been difficult to discover that we were the individuals who had so long lingered about the shores of Sinde, now the honoured guests of its jealous master. Great and small were in attendance on us: khans and Syuds, servants and chobdars brought messages and enquiries, till the night was far spent; and it may not be amiss to mention, as a specimen of conducting business in Sinde, that the barber, the water-cooler, and the prime minister were sent indiscriminately with errands on the same subject.

Preparations for reception at court.

The ceremonial of our reception was soon adjusted, but not without some exhibition of Sindian character. After the time had been mutually fixed for the following afternoon, our mihmandar made his appearance at daybreak, to request that we would then accompany him to the palace. I spoke of the arrangements that had been made; but he treated all explanation with indifference, and eulogised, in extravagant language, the great condescension of his master in giving us an interview so early, while the Vakeels, or representatives of other states, often waited for weeks. I informed the Khan that I entertained very different sentiments regarding his master’s giving us so early a reception, and assured him that I viewed it as no sort of favour, and was satisfied that the Ameer himself was proud in receiving, at any time, any agent of the British Government. The reply silenced him, and he shortly afterwards withdrew, and sent an apology for this importunity, which, he stated, had originated in a mistake. The pride of the Sindian must be met by the same weapons; and, however disagreeable the line of conduct, it will be found, in all matters of negotiation, to carry along with it its own reward: altercations that have passed will be succeeded by civility and politeness, and a shade of oblivion will be cast over all that is unpleasant.

Presentation.

In the evening we were presented to the Ameer of Sinde by his son, Nusseer Khan, who had previously received us in his own apartments, to inform us of his attachment to the British Government, and the state secret of his having been the means of procuring for us a passage through Sinde. We found the Ameer seated in the middle of a room, attended by his various relatives: they all rose on our entrance, and were studiously polite. His Highness addressed me by name; said I was his friend, both on public and private grounds; for my brother (Dr. Burnes) had cured him of a dangerous disease. At the same time he caused me to be seated along with him on the cushion which he occupied: he begged that I would forget the difficulties and dangers encountered, and consider him as the ally of the British Government, and my own friend. The long detention which had occurred in our advance, he continued, had arisen from his ignorance of political concerns, as he considered it involved a breach of the treaty between the states; for he was a soldier, and knew little of such matters, and was employed in commanding the three hundred thousand Beloochees, over whom God had appointed him to rule! We had now, however, arrived at his capital, and he assured us that we were welcome: his own state barge should convey us to his frontier; his subjects should drag our vessels against the stream. Elephants and palanqueens were at our disposal, if we would accept them; and he would vie in exertion with ourselves, to forward, in safety, the presents of his Most Gracious Majesty the King of Great Britain, and had nominated the son of his Vizier to accompany us to the limits of his territories. I did not deem it necessary to enter into any explanation with his Highness, nor to give him in return the muster-roll of our mighty army. I thanked him for his marks of attention to the Government and ourselves, and said, that I was glad to find that the friendship between the states, which had led to my taking the route through his dominions, had not been underrated; for it would be worse than folly in an unprotected individual to attempt a passage by the Indus without his cordial concurrence. With regard to the dangers and difficulties which had been already encountered, I assured his Highness, that the prevailing good fortune of the British Government had predominated; and though it was not in the power of man to avert calamities by sea, we had by the favour of God happily escaped them all, and I doubted not that the authorities I served would derive as much satisfaction from the manner in which he had now received us as I myself did. The interview here terminated; his Highness previously fixing the following morning for a second meeting, when I would communicate some matters of a political nature with which I had been charged by the Government.

Court of Sinde.

I shall not enter on a description of the Court of Sinde, as it may be found in Lieut. Col. Pottinger’s work, and in a narrative lately published by my brother.[7] Its splendour must have faded, for though the Ameer and his family certainly wore some superb jewels, there was not much to attract our notice in their palace or durbar: they met in a dirty hall without a carpet; they sat in a room which was filled by a rabble of greasy soldiery, and the noise and dust were hardly to be endured. The orders of the Ameer himself to procure silence, though repeated several times, were ineffectual, and some of the conversation was inaudible on that account. We were, however, informed that the crowd had been collected to display the legions of Sinde; and they certainly contrived to fill the alleys and passages every where, not could we pass out of the fort without some exertion on the part of the nobles, who were our conductors.

Presents.

I followed up the interview by sending the government presents which I had brought for his Highness: they consisted of various articles of European manufacture,—a gun, a brace of pistols, a gold watch, two telescopes, a clock, some English shawls and cloths, with two pair of elegant cut glass candlesticks and shades. Some Persian works beautifully lithographed in Bombay, and a map of the World and Hindoostan, in Persian characters, completed the gift. The principal Ameer had previously sent two messages, begging that I would not give the articles to any person but himself; and the possessor of fifteen millions sterling portioned, with a partial hand, among the members of his family, the gifts that did not exceed the value of a few hundred pounds. Sindian meanness. His meanness may be imagined, when he privately deputed his Vizier to beg that I would exchange the clock and candlesticks for some articles among the presents, which I doubtless had for other chiefs, as they formed no part of the furniture of a Sindian palace. I told the Vizier that the presents which I had brought were intended to display the manufactures of Europe, and it was not customary to give the property of one person to another. This denial produced a second message; and, as a similar occurrence happened, in 1809, to a mission at this court, we gather from the coincidence how little spirit and feeling actuate the cabinet of Hydrabad. Some score of trays, loaded with fruit and sweetmeats adorned with gold-leaf, and sent by the different members of the family, closed the day.

Parting interview.

Early in the morning, we were conducted to the durbar by Meer Ismaeel Shah, one of the Viziers, and our mihmandar: on the road the Vizier took occasion to assure me how much I would please the Ameer by changing the clock! There was more order and regularity in our second interview, which was altogether very satisfactory; for the Ameer gave a ready assent to the wishes of Government when they were communicated to him. The conversation which ensued was of the most friendly description. His Highness asked particularly for my brother, looked attentively at our dress, and was much amused with the shape and feather of the cocked hat I wore. Before bidding him adieu, he repeated, in even stronger language, all his yesterday’s professions; and, however questionable his sincerity, I took my departure with much satisfaction at what had passed, since it seemed he would no longer interrupt our advance to Lahore. Meer Nusseer Khan, the son of the Ameer, presented me with a handsome Damascus sword, which had a scabbard of red velvet ornamented with gold; his father sent me a purse of fifteen hundred rupees, with an apology, that he had not a blade mounted as he desired, and begged I would accept the value of one. After all the inconvenience to which we had been subjected, we hardly expected such a reception at Hydrabad. Next morning we left the city, and encamped on the banks of the Indus near our boats.

Scenery near Hydrabad.

The scenery near the capital of Sinde is varied and beautiful: the sides of the river are lined with lofty trees; and there is a background of hill to relieve the eye from the monotony which presents itself in the dusty arid plains of the Delta. The Indus is larger, too, than in most places lower down, being about 830 yards wide; there is a sand-bank in the middle, but it is hidden by the stream. The island on which Hydrabad stands is barren, from the rocky and hilly nature of the soil, but even the arable parts are poorly cultivated.

Hydrabad.

On the capital itself, I can add little to the accounts which are already on record. It does not contain a population of twenty thousand souls, who live in houses, or rather huts, built of mud. The residence of the chief himself is a comfortless miserable dwelling. The fort, as well as the town, stands on a rocky hillock; and the former is a mere shell, partly surrounded by a ditch, about ten feet wide and eight deep, over which there is a wooden bridge. The walls are about twenty-five feet high, built of brick, and fast going to decay. Hydrabad is a place of no strength, and might readily be captured by escalade. In the centre of the fort there is a massive tower, unconnected with the works, which overlooks the surrounding country. Here are deposited a great portion of the riches of Sinde. The Fulailee river insulates the ground on which Hydrabad stands; but, though a considerable stream during the swell, it was quite dry when we visited this city in April. The view of Hydrabad, prefixed to this volume, and for which I am indebted to Captain M. Grindlay, faithfully represents that capital and the country which surrounds it.

CHAP. III.
VOYAGE TO BUKKUR.

Departure from Hydrabad.

On the morning of the 23d of April, we embarked in the state barge of the Ameer, which is called a “jumtee” by the natives of the country. They are very commodious vessels, of the same build as the other flat-bottomed boats of the Indus, and sadly gainsayed the beggarly account which his Highness had, in his correspondence, so often given of the craft in the river. It was about sixty feet long, and had three masts, on which we hoisted as many sails, made of alternate stripes of red and white cloth. There were two cabins, connected with each other by a deck; but, contrary to the custom in other countries, the one at the bows is the post of honour. It was of a pavilion shape, covered with scarlet cloth, and the eyes of intruders were excluded on all sides by silken screens. The jumtee was further decorated by variegated flags and pendants, some of which were forty feet long. We hoisted the British ensign at the stern of our pinnace, the first time, I suppose, it had ever been unfurled on the Indus; and the little vessel which bore it out-sailed all the fleet. I hope the omen was auspicious, and that the commerce of Britain may soon follow her flag. We moved merrily through the water, generally with a fair wind, anchoring always at night, and pitching our camp on the shore, pleased to find ourselves beyond the portals of Hydrabad.

Sehwun.

We reached Sehwun on the 1st of May, a distance of 100 miles, in eight days. There was little to interest us on the banks of the river, which are thinly peopled, and destitute of trees or variety to diversify the scene. The Lukkee mountains, a high range, came in sight on the third day, running in upon the Indus at Sehwun. The stream itself, though grand and magnificent, was often divided by sand-banks, and moved sluggishly along at the rate of two miles and a half an hour. One of our boats had nearly sunk from coming in contact with a protruding stump; an accident of frequent occurrence on the Indus, as well as on the American rivers, and sometimes attended with fatal results, particularly to vessels descending the stream. Our escape from calamity gave the Sindians a topic for congratulation, and we daily heard the greatness of our fortune proclaimed. Every trivial incident, a slight breeze or any such occurrence, they did not hesitate to ascribe to our destiny.

Crew of the boat.

Our crew consisted of sixteen men; and a happy set of beings they were: they waded through the water all day, and swam and sported about, as they passed along, with joyous hearts, returning occasionally to the boat to indulge in the hooka, and the intoxicating “bang,” or hemp, to which they are much addicted. They prepare this drug by straining the juice from the seeds and stalks through a cloth: when ready for use, it resembles green putrid water. It must be very pernicious. I do not know if I can class their pipes among the movables of the ship; for their stands were formed of a huge piece of earthenware, too heavy to be lifted, which remains at the stern, where the individuals retire to inhale the weed, made doubly noxious by its being mixed with opium. The sailors of Sinde are Mahommedans. They are very superstitious, the sight of a crocodile below Hydrabad is an evil omen which would never be forgotten; and in that part of the Indus these monsters certainly confined themselves to the deep.

A Sindian song.

In the songs and chorus which the Sindians use in pulling their ropes and sails, we discover their reverence for saints. Seafaring people are, I believe, musical in all countries; and, though in a strange dialect, there is simplicity and beauty in some of the following rhymes:—

Original.

Hulam hulam hyl, Joomba lanee,

Leenlanee, Hewa qila,

Mudud peeran. Dawa fuqueeran

Dawa jee nalee. Beree chale:

Beree ranee, Surung sookhanee.

Oono panee, ——————

Lumba kooa, Sulamut hooa,

Wujun dumana Acbar Shah ja.

Translation.

Pull, oh! pull! Use your strength,

Raise your shoulders, By the favour of God,

Press your feet. By the Saint’s assistance

The boat will sail, She is a pretty boat:

The steersman’s a warrior. The water is deep,

The mast is tall. She will reach in safety.

Beat the drum Of King Acbar,

The port is attained By the favour of God.

Another specimen runs thus:—

Peer Putta! Jug ditta,

Nuggur Tatta! Panee mitta.

Julla kejye, Tanee lejge,

Tan tumasha: Bunder khasa,

Bundur koochee. Murd Beloochee.

Bundur maryo, Rub dekkaryo.

Moolk Hubeebee. Rub a rubbee.

Translation.

Hail, Peer Putta! Who has seen the world,

Hail, city of Tatta! The water is sweet.

Pull together, Pull at once,

Pull for joy. The port is good,

Tho’ the harbour is small. The men are Beloochees.

Behold the harbour tower, Which God has shown us.

The country is God’s, By God we came.

As we discovered the mosques of Sehwun, the boatmen in their joy beat a drum, and chanted many of these verses, which had a pleasing sound on passing the base of the Lukkee mountains, that present a rocky buttress to the Indus on approaching Sehwun.

Sehwun, its antiquity.

The town of Sehwun stands on a rising ground, at the verge of a swamp, two miles from the Indus, close to a branch of that river called Arul, which flows from Larkhanu. It has a population of about 10,000 souls, and is commanded on the north side by a singular castle or mound of earth. Sehwun is sometimes called Sewistan, and is a place of antiquity. There are many ruined mosques and tombs which surround it, and proclaim its former wealth; but it has gradually gone to decay since it ceased to be the residence of a governor, who here held his court in the days of Moghul splendour. As it stands near the Lukkee mountains, I believe it may be fixed on as the city of Sambus, Raja of the Indian mountaineers, mentioned by Alexander. The Sindomanni cannot refer to the inhabitants of Lower Sinde, which is always called Pattala, and its ruler the “prince of the Pattalans.” Sindee is the modern term for the aboriginal inhabitants.

Pilgrimage of Sehwun.

Sehwun has considerable celebrity and sanctity from the tomb of a holy saint of Khorasan, by name Lal Shah Baz, who was interred here about 600 years ago. The shrine stands in the centre of the town, and rests under a lofty dome at one end of a quadrangular building, which is handsomely ornamented by blue painted slabs, like Dutch tiles, that give it a rich appearance. A cloth of gold, with two other successive palls of red silk, are suspended over the sepulchre, and on the walls which surround it are inscribed in large Arabic letters the praises of the deceased, and extracts from the Koran. Ostrich eggs, peacocks’ feathers, beads, flowers, &c. complete the furniture of this holy spot; and pigeons, the emblems of peace, are encouraged to perch on the cloths which shade the remains of departed virtue. The miracles of Lal Shah Baz are endless, if you believe the people. The Indus is subject to his commands, and no vessel dares to pass his shrine without making a propitiatory offering at his tomb. Thousands of pilgrims flock to the consecrated spot, and the monarchs of Cabool and India have often visited the sanctuary. The drums which proclaim the majesty of the saint are a gift from the renowned persecutor Alla-o-deen, who reigned A.D. 1242; and the gate, which is of silver, attests the homage and devotion of a deceased Ameer of Sinde. The needy are daily supplied with food from the charity of the stranger; but the universal bounty has corrupted the manners of the inhabitants, who are a worthless and indolent set of men. The Hindoo joins with the Mahommedan in his veneration of the saint, and artfully insinuates “Lal” to be a Hindoo name, and that the Mahommedans have associated with the faith of their prophet the god of an infidel creed. A tiger, once the tenant of the neighbouring hills, partakes of the general bounty in a cage near the tomb.

Castle of Sehwun, its antiquity.

By far the most singular building at Sehwun, and perhaps on the Indus, is the ruined castle which overlooks the town, and is in all probability as old as the age of the Greeks. It consists of a mound of earth sixty feet high, and surrounded from the very ground by a brick wall. The shape of the castle is oval, about 1200 feet long by 750 in diameter. The interior presents a heap of ruins, and is strewed with broken pieces of pottery and brick. The gateway is on the town side, and has been arched: a section through it proves the whole mound to be artificial. At a distance this castle resembles the drawings of the Mujilebe tower at Babylon, described by Mr. Rich in his interesting Memoir.

The natives afford no satisfactory account of this ruin, attributing it to the age of Budur-ool-Jamal, a fairy, whose agency is referred to in every thing ancient or wonderful in Sinde. It is to be observed, that the Arul river passes close to this castle; and we are informed by Quintus Curtius that, in the territories of Sabus Raja, (which I imagine refers to Sehwun,) “Alexander took the strongest city by a tunnel formed by his miners.” A ruin of such magnitude, standing, as it therefore does, on such a site, would authorise our fixing on it as the very city “where the barbarians, untaught in engineering, were confounded when their enemies appeared, almost in the middle of the city, rising from a subterraneous passage of which no trace was previously seen.” So strong a position would not, in all probability, be neglected in after-times; and in the reign of the Emperor Humaioon, A.D. 1541, we find that monarch unable to capture Sehwun, from which he fled on his disastrous journey to Omercote. His son Acbar also invested Sehwun for seven months, and after its capture seems to have dismantled it. There are many coins found in the castle of Sehwun; but among thirty I could find no trace of the Greek alphabet. They were Mahommedan coins of the sovereigns of Delhi.

Mound of Amree.

About eighteen miles below Sehwun, and on the same side of the river, is the village of Amree, believed to have been once a large city, and the favourite residence of former kings. It is said to have been swept into the Indus. Near the modern village, however, there is a mound of earth, about forty feet high, which the traditions of the country point out as the halting-place of a king, who ordered the dung of his cavalry to be gathered together, and hence the mound of Amree! There are some tombs near it, but they are evidently modern.

We halted four days at Sehwun. The climate was most sultry and oppressive: the thermometer stood at 112°, and did not fall below 100° at midnight, owing to scorching winds from the west, where the country is bleak and mountainous. The lofty range which runs parallel with the Indus from the sea-coast to the centre of Asia, is joined by the Lukkee mountains south of Sehwun, and thus excludes the refreshing breezes of the ocean.

We quitted Sehwun on the 4th with difficulty, for we could not procure men to drag our boats. The mihmandar, though he was the vizier’s son, and acted under the seal of the Ameer, could not prevail on the Calendar, or priest of the tomb, who said that no such order had been ever given, and he would not now obey it. Some persons were seized: his people drew their swords, and said that, when no longer able to wield them, they might go. We knew nothing of the matter till it was over, as it was entirely a private arrangement of Syud Tukkee Shah, the mihmandar. When the men heard they were to be remunerated for their trouble, they came of their own accord before we sailed. Every thing in Sinde being effected by force under despotism, the watermen of Sehwun fled the town, or took up their abode in the sanctuary, when they saw the “jumtee” approach, believing, as usual, that services would be required of them gratuitously.

Congratulations from Khyrpoor.

On the day after quitting Sehwun, we were met by Mahommed Gohur, a Belooche chief, and a party, the confidential agents of Meer Roostum Khan, the Ameer of Khyrpoor, who had been sent to the frontier, a distance of eighty miles, to congratulate us on our arrival, and declare their master’s devotion to the British Government. We hardly expected such a mark of attention in Sinde, and were therefore gratified. The deputation brought an abundant supply of sheep, flour, fruit, spices, sugar, butter, ghee, tobacco, opium, &c. &c., on which our people feasted. Sheep were slain and cooked; rice and ghee were soon converted into savoury viands; and I believe all parties thanked Meer Roostum Khan as heartily as we did, nor did I imagine that this was but the commencement of a round of feasting which was daily repeated so long as we were in his country, a period of three weeks. Mahommed Gohur was a decrepit old man, with a red beard. He wore a very handsome loongee round his waist. He did not recover from his surprise throughout the interview, for he had never before seen an European.

Address the Ameer of Khyrpoor.

In return for Meer Roostum Khan’s kindness, I addressed to him a Persian letter in the following terms, which will serve as a specimen of the epistolary style used by the people of this country, which I imitated as closely as possible.:—

(After compliments:) “I hasten to inform your Highness that I have reached the frontiers of your country in company with the respectable Syud Tukkee Shah, who has accompanied me on the part of Meer Morad Ali Khan from Hydrabad. As I have long since heard of your Highness from those who pass between Cutch and Sinde, it forms a source of congratulation to me that I have arrived in your dominions, and brought along with me in safety the presents which have been graciously bestowed on Maha Raja Runjeet Sing by His Majesty the King of England, mighty in rank, terrible as the planet Mars, a monarch great and magnificent, of the rank of Jemshid, of the dignity of Alexander, unequalled by Darius, just as Nousherwan, great as Fureedoon, admired as Cyrus, famed as the Sun, the destroyer of tyranny and oppression, upright and generous, pious and devout, favoured from above, &c. &c.: may his dominion endure for ever!

“It is well known that when a friend comes to the country of a friend it is a source of much happiness, and I have therefore written these few lines; but when I have the pleasure of seeing you, my joy will be increased.

“I had written thus far, when the respectable Mahommed Gohur, one of those enjoying your Highness’s confidence, arrived at this place, to acquaint me with your professions of respect and friendship for the British Government, bringing along with him many marks of your hospitality. Need I say I am rejoiced? Such civilities mark the great.”

Character of the people.

A voyage of ten days brought us to Bukkur; but we landed a few miles from that fortress, to prepare for a visit to Khyrpoor and its chief, who had made us so welcome in his country. We saw much of the Sindians on our way up the river, and did every thing to encourage their approach by granting free admission on board to the commonest villager who wished to view the horses. The body of the people are little better than savages, and extremely ignorant; their spiritual guides and Syuds, or the followers of the prophet, however, showed knowledge and independence. I happened to ask a party of Syuds to what Ameer they were subject: they replied, “We acknowledge no master but God, who gives us villages and all we desire.” I was struck with the family likeness that prevails throughout this class in Sinde; for it is not to be supposed that a tribe so numerous has lineally descended from the prophet of Arabia. The beggars of Sinde are most importunate and troublesome. They practise all manner of persuasion to succeed in their suit for alms; tear up grass and bushes with their mouths, and chew sand and mud to excite compassion.

With the better orders of society we had frequent intercourse and conversation. Some of them felt interested about the objects of our mission to Lahore. They did not give us much credit for sincerity in sending it by a route which they believed never to have been passed since the time of Noah. They were full of enquiries regarding our customs. Our Khyrpoor friend, Mahomed Gohur, was particularly horrified at our arrangements for getting a wife, and begged me in future to let my beard grow. The knowledge of this individual I may describe, when he asked me if London were under Calcutta: he was, however, a pleasant man; I delighted to hear him sing the praises of the soldiers of Sinde, who, he said, differed from all the world in thinking it an honour to fight on foot. The feelings of pity which some of the people displayed for us were amusing: they were shocked to hear that we cleaned our teeth with hogs’ bristles. I was frequently asked to lay aside the English saddle, which they considered quite unworthy, and worse than a seat on the bare back of the horse.

The Indus: names for it.

The Indus in this part of its course is called Sira, in distinction from Lar, which is its appellation below Sehwun. These are two Belooche words for north and south; and of the name of Sirae, or Khosa, a tribe inhabiting the desert on the east, we have thus a satisfactory explanation; as these people originally spread from Sira, in the upper course of the Indus. Mehran, a name of this river, familiar to the Indians and foreigners, is not used by the natives of the country. The water of the Indus is considered superior, for every purpose of life, to that drawn from the wells of Sinde. When taken from the river it is very foul; but the rich keep it till the mud with which it is loaded subsides. There are few ferry-boats on the Indus; and it is a curious sight to see the people crossing it on skins and bundles of reeds. A native will often float down to a distance of fifteen or twenty miles, accompanied by a whole herd of buffaloes, preferring this mode of travelling to a journey on the banks. From Sehwun upwards they kill the “pulla” fish by nets suspended from the bow of small boats, which are, at the same time, the habitations of the fisherman and his family. The wife, who is generally a sturdy dame, pulls the stern oar to keep the vessel in the middle of the stream, often with a baby in her arms, while the husband kills the fish. One would not have expected to find porpoises so far from the sea; but they are to be observed sporting in the river as high as Bukkur; they are more grey than those in the salt water.

Visited by the Vizier of Sinde.

I should have mentioned, that before reaching Bukkur, we were visited by the Nawab Wulee Mahomed Khan Lugharee, one of the viziers of Sinde, who had travelled from Shikarpoor to meet us. We found him a decrepit old man of seventy-two, on the verge of the grave. He treated us with particular kindness, and quite won our hearts by his attentions. He gave me a horse and a rich loongee. He said in the plainest terms that the Ameer had had evil counsel to detain us so long in Sinde, and that he had written urgently to his Highness not to commit himself by such a step. We had now a good opportunity of seeing a Belooche chief on his native soil. He came with a splendid equipage of tents and carpets, accompanied by three palankeens, and about 400 men. A set of dancing girls were among his suite; and in the evening we were compelled, against our inclination, to hear these ladies squall for a couple of hours, and, what added to the disgust of the scene, they drank at intervals of the strongest spirits, to clear their voices, as they said, until nearly intoxicated. It was impossible to express any displeasure at this exhibition, since the gala, however much out of taste, was got up in the hope of adding to our amusement. The people with us, who now amounted to 150, were sumptuously entertained by the Nawab, who kept us with him for two days.

Vizier of Khyrpoor.

On the morning of the 14th we disembarked near the small village of Alipoor, and were met by the vizier of Meer Roostum Khan, who had come from Khyrpoor to receive us. His name was Futteh Khan Ghoree, an aged person of mild and affable manners, and of peculiar appearance from a snow white beard and red hair. Our reception was cordial and kind; the vizier assured us of the high satisfaction with which his master had heard of our arrival, for he had long desired to draw closer to the British government, and had never yet had the good fortune to meet any of its agents. He said that Meer Roostum Khan did not presume to put himself on an equality with so potent and great a nation, but hoped that he might be classed among its wellwishers, and as one ready to afford his services on all occasions. Futteh Khan added that Khyrpoor formed a separate portion of Sinde from Hydrabad, a fact which he begged I would remember. I was not altogether unprepared for this communication, for I judged from his previous efforts to please that the ruler had some object in view. I assured the vizier of my sense of his master’s attentions, and promised to talk on these matters after our interview. He brought a palankeen to convey me in state to Khyrpoor, a distance of fourteen miles, to which city we marched on the following day.

Ameer of Khyrpoor.

After what I have already stated, our interview with Meer Roostum Khan may be well imagined: he received us under a canopy of silk, seated on a cushion of cloth of gold. He was surrounded by the members of his family, forty of whom (males), descended in a right line from his father, are yet alive. There was more state and show than at Hydrabad, but as little attention to order or silence. We exchanged the usual complimentary speeches of like occasions. I thanked his Highness for the uniform attention and hospitality which we had received. Meer Roostum Khan is about fifty; his beard and hair were quite white, and the expression of his countenance, as well as his manners, were peculiarly mild. He and his relatives were too much taken up with our uniforms and faces to say much; and he begged us to return in the evening, when there would be less bustle and confusion, to which we readily assented. I gave him my watch before leaving, and sent him a brace of pistols and a kaleidescope, with various articles of European manufacture, with which he was highly delighted. The crowd was hardly to be penetrated, but very orderly: they shouted as we approached; and nothing seemed to amuse them so much as the feathers of our hats. “Such cocks!” was literally the expression. For about 200 yards from the palace (if I can use such a term for the mud buildings of Sinde) there was a street of armed men, and among them stood thirty or forty persons with halberds, the foresters or huntsmen of the household.

Audience of leave.

In the evening we again visited the Ameer, and found him seated on a terrace spread with Persian carpets, and surrounded, as before, by his numerous relatives. He made a long address to me regarding his respect for the British government, and said that I had of course learned his sentiments from his vizier. He looked to our Mihmandar from Hydrabad, who I found had been doing every thing in his power to prevent our meeting at all, and then changed the conversation. The Ameer asked innumerable questions about England and its power, remarking that we were not formerly so military a nation; and he had heard that a few hundred years ago we went naked and painted our bodies. On our religion he was very inquisitive; and when I informed him that I had read the Koran, he made me repeat the “Kuluma,” or creed, in Persian and Arabic, to his inexpressible delight. He said that our greatness had risen from a knowledge of mankind, and attending to other people’s concerns as well as our own. He examined my sword, a small cavalry sabre, and remarked that it would not do much harm; but I rejoined, that the age of fighting with this weapon had passed, which drew a shout and a sigh from many present. There was so much mildness in all that the Ameer said that I could not believe we were in a Belooche court. He expressed sorrow that we could not stay a month with him; but since we were resolved to proceed, we must take his state barge, and the son of his vizier, to the frontier, and accept the poor hospitality of a Belooche soldier, meaning himself, so long as we were in the Khyrpoor territory. I must mention that the hospitality, which he so modestly named, consisted of eight or ten sheep, with all sorts of provisions for 150 people daily, and that while at Khyrpoor he sent for our use, twice a day, a meal of seventy-two dishes. They consisted of pillaos and other native viands. The cookery was rich, and some of them delicious. They were served up in silver. We quitted Khyrpoor with regret, after the attentions which we had received. Before starting, the Ameer and his family sent to us two daggers, and two beautiful swords with belts ornamented by large masses of gold. The blade of one of them was valued at 80l. To these were added many cloths and native silks; also a purse of a thousand rupees, which I did not accept, excusing myself by the remark that I required nothing to make me remember the kindness of Meer Roostum Khan.

Sindian rule.

Mr. Elphinstone has remarked, “that the chiefs of Sinde appear to be barbarians of the rudest stamp, without any of the barbarous virtues,” and I fear that there is too much truth in the character, though the Khyrpoor family exhibited little to show themselves deserving of the stigma; but the chiefs of this country live entirely for themselves. They wallow in wealth, while their people are wretched. Professing an enthusiastic attachment to the religion of Mahommed, they have not even a substantial mosque in their territories; and at Hydrabad, where the town stands on rock, and indeed every where, they pray in temples of mud, and seem ignorant of elegance or comfort in all that concerns domestic arrangement. The Beloochees are a particularly savage race of people, but they are brave barbarians. From childhood they are brought up in arms; and I have seen some of the sons of chiefs who had not attained the age of four or five years strutting about with a shield and a sword of small size, given by the parents to instil into them, at that early period, the relish for war. This tribe composes but a small portion of the Sindian population; and while they are execrated by the peaceable classes of the community for their imperious conduct, they, on the other hand, hate the princes by whom they are governed. It would be difficult to conceive a more unpopular rule, with all classes of their subjects, than that of the Ameers of Sinde: nor is the feeling disguised; many a fervent hope did we hear expressed, in every part of the country, that we were the forerunners of conquest, the advance-guard of a conquering army. The persons of the Ameers are secure from danger by the number of slaves which they entertain around their persons. These people are called “Khaskelees,” and enjoy the confidence of their masters, with a considerable share of power: they are hereditary slaves, and a distinct class of the community, who marry only among themselves.

Bukkur.

We marched to Bukkur on the morning of the 19th, which is a fortress fifteen miles from Khyrpoor, situated on an insulated rock of flint on the Indus, with the town of Roree on one side and Sukkur on the other. It was not to be supposed that the Ameer would give us permission to visit this fancied bulwark of his frontier, and I did not press a demand which I saw was far from agreeable; but we had good opportunities of examining the place while passing it, both on shore and on the river. The island is about 800 yards long, of an oval shape, almost entirely occupied by the fortification, which looks more European than most Indian works: it is a beautiful object from the banks of the Indus; its towers are mostly shaded by large full grown trees, and the tall date drops its weeping leaves on the mosques and walls. There are several other islets near it, on one of which stands the shrine of Khaju Khizr, a holy Mahommedan, under a dome that contributes to the beauty of the scene. The Indus rolls past Bukkur in two streams, each of 400 yards wide, and the waters lash the rocks which confine them with noise and violence. During the swell, the navigation of this part of the river is dangerous, though the boatmen of Bukkur are both expert and daring. The town of Roree, which faces Bukkur, stands on a precipice of flint forty feet high, and some of its houses, which are lofty, overhang the Indus. The inhabitants of these can draw up water from their windows; but a cut road in the rock supplies the citizens with this necessary of life without risking their lives. The opposite bank of Sukkur is not precipitous like that of Roree. A precious relic, the lock of Mahommed’s hair, enclosed in a golden box, attracts the Mahommedan pilgrim to Bukkur, though the inhabitants are chiefly Hindoos.

Grave predictions.

On the banks of the Indus we had a curious interview in the evening after our arrival with the Vizier from Khyrpoor, who had been sent by Meer Roostum Khan to escort us thus far, and see that we were furnished with boats. After requesting to be received privately, he renewed the subject of our first conversation, and said that he had been instructed by his master to propose a solemn treaty of friendship with the British government on any terms that might be named: he then ran over the list of neighbouring states which owed their existence to an alliance,—the Chief of the Daodpootras, the Rawul of Jaysulmeer, and the Rajah of Beecaneer, &c. &c. and then concluded with a peroration full of gravity, that it was foretold by astronomers, and recorded in his books, that the English would in time possess all India, a prediction which both Meer Roostum and himself felt satisfied would come to pass, when the British would ask why the chiefs of Khyrpoor had not come forward with an offer of allegiance. I tried to remove, but without effect, the sad prognostications of the minister, and declared my incompetency to enter on such weighty matters as a treaty between the states, without authority and before receiving a written statement under the Ameer’s seal. I said that I would make known the wishes that had been expressed to my government, which would be gratified to hear they had such friends, which seemed to please the diplomatist; he begged that I would bear in mind what had passed, and exacted a promise that I would write to him when gone, and so water the tree of friendship, that the object might be ultimately effected,—“for the stars and heaven proclaimed the fortune of the English!”

Amusing incident.

This was not the only incident of interest that occurred at Bukkur: we had a visit from an Afghan nobleman of rank, who had been on a mission to the Governor-General from the late Shah Mahmood of Herat, and was now on his return to his native country, by the way of Sinde and Mekran, the dissensions of dismembered Cabool preventing his passing by the usual route. He was one of the finest natives I ever saw, and had a flowing beard reaching to his waist: he was full of Calcutta and its wonders, and had adopted many of our customs. He rode on an English saddle; but said he had just found out that it was partly made of hog’s skin, and brought it to beg my acceptance of it, for he dared not take such a thing to his country, and would not again use it. I civilly declined the offer, and regretted that the information regarding the materials of the saddle had been traced to me; for, as he liked our fashions, it was a pity he could not carry them to his own country. Previous to the envoy’s leaving us, he begged I would give him an English brush, which I did with pleasure; but I did not consider it necessary to add that, in addition to the skin of the unclean beast, he would now have the bristles. He went away in great good humour with his gift, for which he offered me his palankeen.

Mihmandar.

I was sorry that I should have been the means of giving uneasiness to the Afghan; for it seems that he acquired his knowledge regarding the construction of his saddle from our Sindian Mihmandar, Tukkee Shah, who had taunted him with uncleanness. This person was a Syud, one of the strictest Mahommedans I ever met. He was a son of Meer Ismael Shah, and of Persian descent. We found him intelligent and learned, and his polished manners made us regret the loss of so agreeable a companion. He left us at Bukkur, to take temporary charge of the Shikarpoor district during the absence of his brother, the Nawab. The character of this person was singularly disfigured by Mahommedan bigotry and superstition; while sceptical and dispassionate on all other topics, there was no miracle too absurd for his credence in religion. Among other fables, he assured me that when the Imam Hoosein had been beheaded by the Yezeedees, and a Christian reproached them for murdering their Prophet, one of them fell on him; the man, instantly seizing the head of the Imam, placed it on his breast, and it pronounced the well-known words, “There is no God but one God, and Mahommed is his prophet;” which immediately silenced this Mahommedan Judas!

Alore, or Arore, the ancient capital.

While at Bukkur, I visited the ruins of Alore, which is said to have been once the capital of a mighty kingdom, ruled by the Dulora Rae, and on which Roree, Bukkur, and Sukkur, have risen. It extended from the ocean to Cashmeer, from Candahar to Kanoje, and was divided into four vast viceroyalties: the harbour of Diu, in Kattywar, is expressly mentioned as one of its sea-ports. It sunk under the Mahommedan arms so early as the seventh century of the Christian era, when subdued by the lieutenant of the Caliph of Bagdad, Mahommed bin Cassim, who invaded India, according to a Persian manuscript, in search of ornaments for the seraglio of the Caliph.

The particulars of its history are to be found at great length in the Chuchnama, a history of Sinde in Persian believed to be authentic, and so called from the ruler of Alore, a Brahmin, by name Duhr bin Chuch. The ruins of Alore are yet to be discovered in a rocky ridge four miles south-east of Bukkur, and are now marked by an humble hamlet, with some ruined tombs. A low bridge with three arches, named the “Bund of Alore or Arore,” constructed of brick and stone, alone remains of all its greatness. It is thrown across a valley, which in by-gone years formed the bed of a branch of the Indus, from which the waters fertilised the desert, and reached the sea by Omercote and Lucput,—a channel through which they still find egress in a great inundation.

The description of the battle which overwhelmed the city of Alore, and terminated the life and reign of the Dulora Rae, affords some clue to the manners of the age. The Brahmin appeared with a train of elephants, on one of which he was seated, with two females of exquisite beauty to supply him with wine and the betel nut. The Mahommedans, unable to oppose these animals, retired from the field to provide themselves with combustibles: they filled their pipes, and returned with them to dart fire at the elephants, which fled in dismay and disorder[8]. The Raja fell in the action, and his two virgin daughters, “more beautiful than the morn,” were despatched to Bagdad as fit ornaments for the seraglio of the vicegerent of the Prophet. The story of these ladies deserves mention. On their arrival at the holy city, they averred that the General had dishonoured them in the fever of victory, and the mandate for his death was forthwith despatched by the Caliph. The innocent Moslem, sewed up in a raw hide, was transported from the East to Arabia; and when his bones were produced in the seraglio, the daughters of Duhr bin Chuch freely confessed the falsehood of their accusation, and expressed their readiness to die, having avenged their father’s murder. They were dragged to death in the streets of Bagdad.

Alore the kingdom of Musicanus.

We have recorded the splendour of Alore, ruled by Brahmins so late as the seventh century of our era; and history, I think, Larkhanu, of Oxycanus. Minagur as Tatta, not Bukkur. identifies it with the kingdom of Musicanus, which Alexander found to be governed by Brahmins, and the richest and most populous in India. Here it was that that conqueror built a fort, as “the place was commodiously situated for bridling the neighbouring nations,” and where Mahommed bin Cassim a thousand years afterwards subdued the Brahmins who revolted from the Macedonians. Its prosperity at this late period confirms the probability of its former wealth. Bukkur is the ancient Munsoora[9], and has likewise been supposed to be Minagur, which I believe is erroneous. The second Arrian, in his Periplus, speaks of that city as the metropolis of Sinde, to which the cargo of the ships was carried up by the river “from Barbarike, a port in the middle branch of the Indus.” It has apparently escaped notice, that Minagur is to be identified with Tatta, as proved by a singular but convincing fact. The Jhareja Rajpoots of Cutch, who trace their lineage from Tatta, invariably designate it in these days by the name of Sa-Minagur, of which Minagur is evidently an abbreviation. I look upon the identity of Tatta and Minagur as conclusive, though the author of the Periplus never mentions Pattala. In Reechel we may also have the harbour of Barbarike. The historians of Alexander do not inform us of the name of the country of Musicanus, but only of its ruler. The position of Larkhanu, on the opposite side of the Indus, is well marked as the country of Oxycanus, which was famed for its fertility, since Alexander despatched from hence his superannuated soldiers, by the country of the Archoti and Drangi, to Carmania, or Kerman. The great road westward branches from Larkhanu, and crosses the mountains to Kelat by the pass of Bolan, which is the route to Kerman. The modern inhabitants of the Indus have no traditions of the conquest of the Macedonians to assist the enquirer in a subject that excites among civilised nations such intense curiosity.

CHAP. IV.
THE COUNTRY OF BHAWUL KHAN.

Quit Bukkur.

On the 21st of May we set sail from Bukkur, having exchanged our boats for another description of vessel, called “zohruk,” not in use in Lower Sinde. They are of an oblong square shape, rounded fore and aft, and built of the talee tree, clamped with pieces of iron instead of nails, an operation which is performed with great neatness. Some of the vessels exceed eighty feet in length, and twenty in breadth. They are flat-bottomed, and pass quicker through the water than the doondee, though they have but one mast. By the description of boats in which Alexander transported his cavalry, I understand the “zohruk,” which is well suited for the transport of troops. Arrian describes it “as of a round form,” and says that they received no injury on leaving the Hydaspes, when the long vessels were wrecked. Their peculiar build has doubtless arisen from the occurrence of such rapids as the Macedonians experienced at the junction of the Acesines and Hydaspes.

Curiosity of the people.

The curiosity of the people on the banks of the Indus was intense. One man in the crowd demanded that we should stop and show ourselves, since there had never been a white-face in this country before, and we were bound to exhibit, from the welcome which we had received: he had seen Shah Shooja, he said (the ex-king of Cabool), but never an Englishman. Need I say we gratified him and the crowd, of which he was the spokesman? “Bismilla,” “in the name of God,” was their usual exclamation when we appeared, and we daily heard ourselves styled kings and princes. The ladies were more curious than their husbands. They wear ear-rings of large dimensions, with turquoises suspended or fixed to them; for these stones are of little value in the vicinity of Khorasan. Among the women, I should note the Syudanees, or Bebees, the female descendants of Mahommed: they go about veiled, or rather with a long white robe thrown over their entire body, having netted orifices before the eyes and mouth. They are all beggars, and very vociferous in their demands for alms: one set of them, (for they go about in troops,) when they found I did not readily meet their demands, produced a written paper from the shrine of Lal Shah Baz, at Sehwun, to hasten my charity! Father Manrique, in his journey by the Indus some centuries ago, complains “of the frail fair ones” who molested him by the way. In the present age, the dress of the courtezans, who are to be met in every place of size in the country, would give a favourable idea of the wealth of Sinde; and it is one of the few, if not the only, amusements of the inhabitants to listen to the lascivious songs of these people. They are a remarkably handsome race, and carry along with them a spirit of enthusiasm in their performance unknown to the ladies of Hindoostan.

Beloochees of Sinde.

Three days after quitting Bukkur, we came in sight of the mountains of Cutch Gundava, distant about a hundred miles from the right bank of the Indus; the most remarkable peak was named Gendaree. We here entered a country inhabited by various Beloochee tribes, long addicted to piracy and plunder; but their spirit has been destroyed by the growing power of the Khyrpoor chiefs. They offered no opposition or insult; and many came to pay us a friendly visit. Their manner of saluting each other, which indeed prevails among all the Beloochees, is somewhat peculiar. On approaching, they seize the stranger’s hand, and touch the right breast with the right shoulder, and the left with the left, and follow up the words “welcome” with half a dozen such sentences as, “Are you happy? Is every thing right? Are all well, great and small, children and horses? You are welcome.”

Sinde frontier, farewell letters.

A very few days brought us beyond the reach of these Beloochees, and the dominions of Sinde; for we anchored thirty miles north of Subzulcote, the frontier town, on the evening of the 26th, on the line of boundary between the Khan of the Daoodpootras and the Ameers of Sinde. Our progress had been exceedingly rapid; for we had a favourable breeze, and often followed the lesser branches of the Indus to escape the violence of the stream. The boats sailed with celerity; for we came one hundred and twenty miles by the course of the river in six days against the stream. We here had a farewell feast from the Khyrpoor Ameer and Meer Nusseer Khan, the son of the principal Ameer, who had shown us marked civility throughout the journey. After the people had fared sumptuously, our boats were crowded like sheepfolds. I addressed valedictory letters to both the Ameers and their chief ministers, besides several replies to other persons; for the “cacoethes scribendi” seemed to have beset the nobles of the land; and I had received, in one day, no less than six letters. These productions were full of metaphor and over-strained expressions of anxiety for our health and safety, with trite sayings about the advantages of friendship, and a letter being half an interview. There is no difference between the manners of Europe and Asia so striking as in correspondence. The natives of the East commit the writing and diction of their compositions to a native secretary, simply telling him to write a letter of friendship, congratulation, or whatever may be the subject, to which he affixes his seal, sometimes without a perusal. If the signet is not legible, one may often try in vain to find out his correspondent; for he never names himself in his letter. In my epistles, I told the Khyrpoor chief that his friendship and kindness had brought us without an accident, and with unprecedented speed, against the mighty stream of the Indus; and I thought it as well, for the edification of the Hydrabad Ameer, to add, that the Indus was a navigable river from the ocean, and had abundance of water every where! I did not quit Sinde favourably impressed, either with his character or policy; but we should not try such a man by an European standard, and he doubtless opposed our choice of the route by the Indus on sufficiently good grounds. I parted from our Khyrpoor friends really with reluctance; for their hospitality and kindness had been great, and it was with difficulty that I was permitted to reward the boatmen. The Mihmandar said that he had been ordered to prohibit it; and his master only desired to please the British Government. This person was very inferior to our former companion the Syud; but, if less learned and intelligent, he had the more sterling qualities of sincerity and honesty: his name was Inayut Khan Ghoree.

Sindian escort.

We here dismissed, and with regret, our Sindian escort, which had followed us from the mouths of the Indus. They seemed to have become attached to us, and followed us in our walks and rides with unusual alacrity; as we were leaving, they accompanied us to the water’s edge, with loud cries of thanks for our kindness and prayers for our welfare. They consisted of twenty-four men; twelve of whom were Beloochees and the rest Jokeeas, a tribe of mountaineers near Curachee. We had not, I am sure, done much to deserve such gratitude; for they had only received an additional month’s pay (eight rupees each) to take them back to their country, a distance of three hundred and fifty miles. Some of them begged to accompany us to Lahore; but, on the same principle that they had been hired in Sinde, it would be proper to enlist natives of the new country we were entering, and I civilly declined their request. These men used to kill game for us; and were ever ready to anticipate our wishes. Their honesty we found unimpeachable; and we never lost any thing in our progress through a strange country, protected by strangers on whom we had no tie, and who had been brought from the fields to enter our service.

NATIVES of SINDE.

Lith^d. for Burnes’ Travels into Bokhara,__by Day & Haghe Lith^rs. to the King.

John Murray Albemarle S^t. 1834.

On Stone by L. Haghe. Captⁿ. R. M. Grindlay del^t.

Fish diet.

The natives of the neighbouring countries, and the higher class of people in Sinde, have a singular notion regarding the fish diet of the inhabitants. They believe it prostrates the understanding; and, in palliation of ignorance in any one, often plead that “he is but a fish-eater.” The lower order of the Sindians live entirely on fish and rice; and the prevailing belief must be of an old date, as they tell an anecdote of one of the Emperors of Delhi who addressed a stranger in his court with the question from whence he came; he replied, from Tatta, and the king turned away his head. The stranger, recollecting the prejudice against his country, immediately rejoined, that he was not a “fish-eater.” I am not prepared to state how far a fish diet may affect the intellect of the Sindian, but I certainly remarked the prolific nature of the food in the number of children on the banks of the Indus. Manners, &c. Costume. The greatest fault which an European would find with the people of Sinde is their filthy habits. They always wear dark-coloured garments from religious motives; but the ablutions of the Prophet are little attended to. People must be in easy circumstances, I believe, or cease to feel want before they adopt habits of cleanliness. The change of costume in the people, announced already a change of country. Since leaving Bukkur, we had met many Afghans and natives of the kingdom of Cabool. The boots of some of these strangers, made of variegated leather, ribbed, in some instances, not unlike the skin of the tiger, formed an extraordinary dress for a long-bearded old man.

Quit Sinde. Bhawul Khan’s country.

In the evening of the 27th we quitted Sinde, and ascended the river for a few miles, where we were met by Gholam Kadir Khan, a Nuwab and person of high rank, who had been sent to welcome us by Bhawul Khan, the chief of the Daoodpootras, in whose country we had now arrived. He was a little, pot-bellied old man, with a happy expression of countenance; and he said that he was sent to communicate the delight with which his master hailed our approach. He brought a most kind message—that a fleet of fifteen boats had been collected, and was now in readiness to convey us through the Daoodpootra country, while the Khan had fitted up a boat expressly for our accommodation. He brought likewise a purse of a hundred rupees, which he said he had been desired to send me daily: this I declined, saying, that money was useless where every necessary and luxury of life was furnished by his master’s hospitality. We soon got on easy terms with our new hosts, and weighed anchor next evening for the frontier village, where we halted. Many Daoodpootras came to see us; they differ in appearance from the Sindians, and wear turbans formed of tight and round folds of cloths.

Quit the Indus.

On the 30th of May our fleet, now swelled to eighteen boats, quitted the Indus at Mittuncote, where it receives the united waters of the Punjab rivers; and, as if to remind us of its magnitude, the stream was here wider than in any other part of its course, and exceeded 2000 yards. We took a last farewell of its waters, and entered the Chenab or Acesines of the Greeks. Alexander sailed down this river to the Indus; but no tradition of that event is preserved on its banks. The Sindians point to Cabool as the theatre of his exploits, where Sikunder the Persian achieved many memorable deeds. In the East, as in the West, there have not been wanting ages of darkness to draw a mist over truth, and substitute, in poetical language, the fables of an Eastern country for one of the most authentic facts in ancient history—the voyage of Alexander on the Indus. Mittun is a small town, about a mile distant from the Indus, and occupies, I imagine, the site of one of the Grecian cities, since the advantage of its position for commerce attracted the attention of Alexander.

Elevated houses of Sinde.

In Lower Sinde the pastoral tribes live in reed houses, and rove from one place to another. In these parts of the Indus they dwell in habitations elevated eight or ten feet from the ground, to avoid the damp and the insects occasioned by it. These are also built of reeds, and entered by a ladder. They are small neat cottages, and occupied by wandering tribes, who frequent the banks of the river till the season of inundation. Herodotus mentions that the Egyptians slept in turrets during the rise of the Nile. Effects of the Indus on the climate. The inhabitants have strange notions regarding the influence of the Indus on the climate. They believe that it gives out a perpetual breeze; and they, therefore, seek a habitation near it, for the heat of Sinde is most oppressive. The father of history expressed his belief that such also was the case with the Nile; and it is curious that a similar opinion should be entertained by the people of Sinde. I can readily understand that a vast volume of running water would cool the banks of a river: the heat is said to increase on receding from the Indus.

Chenab or Acesines.

We reached Ooch, where the joint streams of the Sutlege and Beas, here called the Garra, fall into the Chenab. The name of Punjnud, or Five Rivers, is unknown to the natives; and we now navigated the Chenab or Acesines of the Greeks, the name of the five rivers being lost in that of the greater stream. It is curious to observe that this fact is expressly mentioned by Arrian:—“The Acesines retains its name till it falls at last into the Indus, after it has received three other rivers.” The Sutlege, or Hesudrus, is not mentioned by Alexander’s historians. These united rivers form a noble stream; and the banks of the Chenab are free from the thick tamarisk jungles of the Indus. They were studded with innumerable hamlets, particularly towards the Indus; for the rich pasture attracts the shepherd.

Incident.

Our arrival at Ooch had been so much earlier than was anticipated as to give rise to an incident which might have proved serious. The troops of Bhawul Khan were encamped on the banks of the river, and in a dusky day our numerous fleet was mistaken for the Seik army, which had been threatening to invade his territories. A discharge of a cannon and some musquetry arrested the progress of our advanced boat. The mistake was readily discovered, and the chagrin and vexation that followed afforded us some amusement. I thought that apologies and regrets would never have ceased.

Ooch.

The town of Ooch stands on a fertile plain at a distance of four miles from the Acesines, beautifully shaded by trees. It is formed of three distinct towns, a few hundred yards apart from each other, and each has been encompassed by a wall of brick, now in ruins. The population amounts to 20,000. The streets are narrow, and covered with mats as a protection from the sun; but it is a mean place. We were accommodated in a garden well stocked with fruit trees and flowers, which was an agreeable change from our confined boats. Arrival of Bhawul Khan. When preparing for a journey to visit the Khan,—who was absent at Dirawul, in the desert,—we were surprised by the arrival of a messenger, with the information that he had reached Ooch from a distance of sixty miles, that he might save us the trouble of coming to him, and evince his respect for the British Government. The messenger brought us a deer, which the Khan had shot, and of which he begged our acceptance, with forty vessels of sherbet, and as many of sweetmeats and preserves; also a bag containing 200 rupees, which he requested I would distribute in charity, to mark the joyful event of our arrival.

Interview with him.

On the morning of the 3d of June we visited Bhawul Khan, who had alighted at a large house outside the town, a mile distant: he sent an escort of his regular troops, with horses, palankeens, and various other conveyances,—one of which deserves description. It was a sort of chair, covered with a red canopy of cloth, supported by two horses, one in front and the other behind, and the most awkward vehicle that can be imagined; for it could be turned with difficulty, and the horses did not incline to such a burden. We passed a line of soldiers, about 600 in number, dressed in uniforms of red, blue, white, and yellow; and then entered the court yard, under a salute of eighty guns. The passages were lined with officers and chiefs; and we found the Khan seated in an area spread with carpets, attended only by about ten persons: he rose and embraced us. He made particular enquiries regarding Mr. Elphinstone, who, he said, had been the means of raising up a sincere and lasting friendship between his family and the British Government.

Bhawul Khan is a handsome man, about thirty years of age, somewhat grave in his demeanour, though most affable and gentlemanlike; during the interview he held a rosary in his hand, but the telling of the beads did not interrupt his conversation. He dilated at length on the honour which Runjeet Sing had had conferred upon him in receiving presents from the King of Great Britain; nor did he, in any way, betray his feelings towards the Lahore chief, though they are far from friendly. The Khan, unlike most natives, seemed to avoid all political subjects. He produced his matchlock, and explained to us his manner of hunting deer, his favourite sport; and expressed a strong wish that we should accompany him to his residence in the desert. We left him quite charmed with his kindness, and the sincere manner in which he had shown it. In the evening the Khan sent for our perusal the testimonials that had been given to his grandfather by Mr. Elphinstone, which are preserved with great pride and care in the archives of his government. For my own part, I felt equal satisfaction to find the English character stand so high in this remote corner of India, and the just appreciation of the high-minded individual who had been the means of fixing it.

Merchants at Bhawulpoor.

During our stay at Ooch, we were visited by some of the principal merchants of Bhawulpoor, who had followed the Khan. The intelligence of these people, and extent of their travels, surprised me. Most of them had traversed the kingdom of Cabool, and visited Balkh and Bokhara: some had been as far as Astracan; and they used the names of these towns with a familiarity as if they had been in India. They had met Russian merchants at Bokhara, but assured me that they never came to the eastward of that city. The intervening countries they represented as perfectly safe, and bestowed the highest commendations on Dost Mahommed, of Cabool, and the Uzbeks, who encouraged commercial communication. These merchants are chiefly Hindoos, whose disposition peculiarly adapts them for the patient and painstaking vocation of a foreign merchant. Some of them are Jews, who retain the marks of their nation in all countries and places.[10]

History of Ooch.

We continued at Ooch for a week. The place is ancient, and highly celebrated in the surrounding countries from the tombs of two saints of Bokhara and Bagdad. The Ghorian emperors expelled the Hindoo Rajas of Ooch, and consigned the surrounding lands to pious Mahommedans. The tombs of the two worthies I have named are handsome, and held in much reverence by the people; they are about five hundred years old, and tradition is silent regarding the history of the place beyond that period. The posterity of these saints enjoy both spiritual and temporal power to the present day; but, instead of ministering to the wants of the inhabitants, who are needy and poor, they waste their fortunes in the chase, and retain hounds and horses for their amusement. An inundation of the Acesines, some years back, swept away one half of the principal tomb, with a part of the town; and, though the return of the river to its original bed is attributed to the miraculous interference of the deceased saint, the people have, as yet, failed to testify their gratitude by repairing his tomb. The town of Ooch stands on a mound of earth or clay, like the city of Tatta, which I judge to have been formed by the ruins of houses. The Chenab has swept away a portion of the mound; and the section of it which has been thus exposed seems to support the conjecture which I have stated.

Visit from Bhawul Khan.

On the 5th of June we had a visit from Bhawul Khan. He insisted on coming in person to see us; and sent a large tent to be pitched by our garden, in which we received him. He sat for about an hour; and put numerous questions regarding the manufactures of Europe. The chief is of a mechanical turn of mind; he produced a detonating gun, which had been made under his directions from an European pattern, and certainly did credit to the artificer; he had also manufactured the necessary caps and fulminating powder. He expressed, at this interview, much satisfaction with the presents which we had sent him; they consisted of a brace of pistols, a watch, and some other articles. The Khan came in an open sort of chair, to which we conducted him on his departure. He was attended by about a thousand persons; and I observed that he distributed money as he passed along. After the visit, our Mihmandar brought us presents from the Khan; they consisted of two horses richly caparisoned with silver and enamel trappings, a hawk, with shawls and trays of the fabrics made at Bhawulpoor, some of which were very rich; to these were added a purse of 2000 rupees, and a sum of 200 for the servants; and, last of all, a beautiful matchlock, which had its value doubled by the manner in which it was presented. “The Khan,” said the messenger, “has killed many a deer with this gun; and he begs you will accept it from him, and, when you use it, remember that Bhawul Khan is your friend.”

Audience of leave.

In the evening we had a parting interview with Bhawul Khan. I gave him a handsome percussion gun; and assured him, what I felt most sincerely, that we should long remember his kindness and hospitality. He embraced us on our leaving him; and intreated us to write to him and command his services. The courtiers and people were as polite as their chief.

We left Ooch on the following morning, and pitched our camp at the junction of the Chenab with the Garra, or united streams of the Beas and Sutlege.

Mountains of Sooliman.

The country about Ooch is flat and exceedingly rich; there are many signs of inundation between the town and the river. The dust was most intolerable; but it always cleared up towards evening, and we saw the sun set in splendour behind the mountains of Sooliman across the Indus, eighty miles distant. They did not appear high, and were not distinguished by any remarkable peaks. It is a little below the latitude of Ooch that they assume a direction parallel to the Indus, which they afterwards preserve. We lost sight of the range on our voyage to Mooltan the day after leaving Ooch.

Embouchure of the Sutlege.

On the morning of the 7th we passed the mouth of the Sutlege, and continued our voyage on the Chenab to the frontiers of Bhawul Khan, which we reached on the evening of the 8th. The Chenab receives the Sutlege without turmoil, and appears quite as large above as below the conflux. The waters of either river are to be distinguished some miles below the junction by their colour: that of the Chenab is reddish; and, when joined by the Sutlege, the waters of which are pale, the contrast is remarkable. For some distance the one river keeps the right, and the other the left, bank; the line of demarcation between the two being most decided. The nature of the soil through which the Chenab flows, no doubt, tinges its waters. This peculiarity is well known to the natives, who speak of the “red water,” but none of the ancient authors allude to the circumstance. The nature of the country between Ooch and the Indus has been mistaken, as it is never flooded. Several decayed canals, if cleared, would yet lead the water of the Chenab to the Indus, and may account for Major Rennell’s conducting that river into the great stream, so many miles above the true point of union, until the geographical error was rectified by the mission to Cabool.

The Mihmandar.

We parted with our Mihmandar, Gholam Cadir Khan, before passing into the Seik territory. We had seen a great deal of him, and found him well informed on all such subjects as he could be supposed to know. He carried four or five historical works with him, among which was the Chuchnamu, or History of Sinde, to which I have alluded, one or two books on medicine, and some volumes of poetry: yet he made a most particular request, at our last interview, that I would tell him the secret of magic, which he was certain we possessed. I assured him of the error under which he laboured: “But,” said he, “how is it that you have had a favourable wind ever since I met you, and performed a twenty days’ voyage in five, when a breath of air does not sometimes stir in this country for months?” I told him that such was the good fortune of the English. When the Nawaub found me wanting in the black art, he whispered that he himself was a dealer in spells and magic; but very sensibly added, that he had no faith in his own incantations, high as they stood in the opinion of others; though it was not his part to say so. He begged I would give him some medicine to prevent him growing fatter; but neither regular exercise, nor vinegar, which I prescribed, seemed to suit his taste. What a whimsical creature man is. In Sinde, every person of rank seeks for rotundity to support his dignity; and but a few miles from that country, the “martyr to obesity” is considered unfortunate.

There is little cordiality subsisting between the Seiks and Bhawul Khan; and it was with the utmost difficulty that I prevailed on the Nawaub to let us proceed to the Seik camp, a distance of six miles, in the boats belonging to his master. “The Seiks,” he said, “are my master’s enemies, and no boat of ours shall cross their frontier.” He at last assented, on my becoming answerable for the return of the vessels.

Runjeet Sing’s country.

A few hours’ sail brought us to the place of rendezvous late at night, and the fires of the soldiers blazing in the darkness only increased our anxiety to meet our new friends. It was the camp of the party which had been sent from Lahore to await our arrival, and had long expected us. Immediately on landing, we were received by Sirdar Lenu Sing, who came with considerable state on an elephant, and was attended by a large retinue. The Sirdar was richly dressed, and had a necklace of emeralds, and armlets studded with diamonds. In one hand he held a bow, and in the other two Persian letters in silken bags. He congratulated us, in the name of Maharajah Runjeet Sing, on our arrival, and had been desired by his Highness to communicate that he was deeply sensible of the honour conferred upon him by the King of England, and that his army had been for some time in readiness on the frontier, to chastise the barbarians of Sinde, who had so long arrested our progress. He then delivered to me the letters which appointed himself as our Mihmandar, in conjunction with two other persons; presenting at the same time a bow, according to the custom of the Seiks. On the ceremony being terminated, the Sirdar and several others placed bags of money at my feet, amounting to about 1400 rupees, and then withdrew.

The first intercourse with a new people can never be destitute of interest, and the present was far from being so.

These Seiks are tall and bony men, with a very martial carriage: the most peculiar part of their dress is a small flat turban, which becomes them well; they wear long hair, and from the knee downwards do not cover the leg. When the deputation had withdrawn, an escort of regular troops attended to receive orders, and sentries were planted round our camp. It was novel to hear the words of command given in the French language.

Exhibition of the dray horses.

No sooner had the day broke, than the Maharajah’s people evinced much anxiety to view the dray horses, and we had them landed for exhibition. Their surprize was extreme; for they were little elephants, said they, and not horses. Their manes and tails seemed to please, from their resemblance to the hair of the cow of Thibet; and their colour, a dappled grey, was considered a great beauty. It was not without difficulty that I replied to the numerous questions regarding them; for they believed that the presents of the King of England must be extraordinary in every way; and for the first time, a dray horse was expected to gallop, canter, and perform all the evolutions of the most agile animal. Their astonishment reached its height when the feet of the horses were examined; and a particular request was made of me to permit the despatch of one of the shoes to Lahore, as it was found to weigh 100 rupees, or as much as the four shoes of a horse in this country. The curiosity was forthwith despatched by express, and accompanied by the most minute measurement of each of the animals, for Runjeet Sing’s special information. The manner in which this rarity was prized, will be afterwards seen, when it is gravely recorded, that the new moon turned pale with envy on seeing it!

Civilities.

Our own comforts were not forgotten among their wonder and admiration, for the attentions of the people were of the most marked description. Our Mihmandar said that he had the strictest injunctions regarding our reception; and he rigidly acted up to the spirit of the following document, which will best show the distinguished and kind manner we were treated in the territories of Maharajah Runjeet Sing.

Purwanu of Runjeet Sing.

Copy of the Maharajah’s “Purwanu,” or Command to his Officers.

“Be it known to Dewan Adjoodia Pursad, Monsieur Chevalier Ventura, and the great and wise Sirdar Lenu Sing, and Lalla Sawun Mull, Soobadar of Mooltan, that when Mr. Burnes reaches the frontier, you are immediately to attend to all his wants, and previously despatch 200 infantry and the lancers, under Tajee Sing, to Julalpoor, that they may be ready on his arrival as an honorary escort; and you are at the same time to make known your own arrival in the neighbourhood. When Mr. Burnes approaches, you are immediately to despatch an elephant, with a silver houda, in charge of the Dewan, who is to state that the animal has been sent for his own express use, and then ask him to be seated thereon, which will be gratifying, as the friendship between the states is great.

“When Mr. Burnes has mounted the elephant, then shall the Sirdar Lenu Sing, and Sawun Mull, seated on other elephants, approach, and have an interview with that gentleman, paying him every manner of respect and attention in their power, and congratulating him in a hundred ways on his safe arrival from a long and distant journey, distributing at the same time 225 rupees among the poor. You are then to present a handsome bow, and each of you eleven gold Venetians, and conduct the gentleman to the halting-place, and there set before him 1100 rupees, and fifty jars of sweetmeats. You are then to supply the following articles: grass, grain, bran, milk, eggs, fowls, sheep (doombus), curds, vegetables, fruit, roses, spices, water-vessels, beds, and every other thing that may be necessary, in quantities without bounds, and be neglectful and dilatory in nothing. When you visit, you are to parade the two companies and the horse, and salute, and then place guards according to Mr. Burnes’ pleasure.

“When you reach Shoojuabad, you are to fire a salute of eleven guns, and furnish every thing as before directed, and present 1100 rupees, with sweetmeats and fruits, and attend to every wish that is expressed. If Mr. Burnes desires to look at the fort of Shoojuabad, you are to attend on him and show it, and see there is no obstruction, and that no one even raises his voice.

“On reaching Mooltan, you are to conduct Mr. Burnes with great respect, and pitch his camp in whatever garden he shall select; the Huzooree, the Begee, the Shush Muhl, or the Khass wu Am, or any other. You are then to present him with a purse of 2500 rupees, and 100 jars of sweetmeats, and fire a salute of eleven guns from the ramparts of the fortress. When you have complimented him on his arrival, you are to suggest for his consideration, whether he would not like to halt at Mooltan for five or six days after his long journey, and act entirely as he desires; if he wishes to view the fort, you three persons are to attend him, and allow no one to make a noise, and take most particular care that the Nihungs, and such other wrong-headed people, are kept at a distance.

“In quitting Mooltan, you are to load 100 camels with provisions for the supply of Mr. Burnes to Lahore, and Soobadar Sawan Mull is to attend him in person for the first stage, and after taking leave, repair to the camp of Monsieur Chevalier Ventura. Sirdar Lenu Sing and Dewan Adjoodia Pursad, together with Futih Sing Ramgurree, accompanied by an escort of two companies and the lancers, shall attend Mr. Burnes, and proceed by easy stages to Lahore, despatching daily notice of his approach. At Dehra, Syudwulla the Kardar is to present 1100 rupees, with the usual sweetmeats; and you are all directed to remember, in every instance, and at all times, the great friendship which subsists between the two states.”

There is at all times much display and hyperbole in affairs of this description throughout the East; but in the present instance it will be observed, that the Maharajah not only evinced his liberality in other matters, but in throwing open to our inspection the strong holds of his country, which can be duly appreciated by those only who have experienced the extreme jealousy of most Indian governments. The Seik Sirdars in attendance on us were likewise most communicative; and this is the more remarkable, as it could not have escaped the Maharajah, that in taking the unfrequented tract we had followed on the Indus we were seeking for new information, after the spirit of our country.

CHAPTER V.

Voyage in the Seik country.

By the 12th of June, our preparations for the voyage were completed, and we again embarked on the Chenab. The boats here were of a very inferior description, still called “zohruq;” they had no sails, and hoist a mat on a low mast instead; their waists are scarcely a foot above water, and those which they could collect for us, were but the different ferry boats of the river. There is no trade carried on by water in this country, and there are in consequence no boats. A sail of a few hours brought us to the ferry opposite Shoojuabad, where we halted. The country is of the richest and most fertile description, and its agricultural resources are much increased, by conducting water to the remoter parts, in large canals and aqueducts.

Shoojuabad.

In the evening of the 13th we visited the town of Shoojuabad, which stands four miles eastward of the river. It is a thriving place, surrounded by a fine wall of brick, about thirty feet high. The figure of the place is that of an oblong square, and the wall is strengthened by octagonal towers, at equal distances. The interior is filled up with houses, which are built in streets, at right angles to one another; and a suburb of huts surrounds the walls. Shoojuabad fort was built by the Nuwab of Mooltan in the year 1808, and the public spirit of that person raised it, in the course of ten years, to great opulence. It is situated in a most beautiful country, and is watered by two spacious canals for many miles, both above and below the town. It was captured by the Seiks, along with Mooltan, and now forms the frontier fortress of the Lahore chief. We were accompanied to Shoojuabad by our Mihmandar, who appeared in state for the occasion; he sat on an elephant in a chair of silver,—two horses were led before him, with saddles of red and yellow velvet,—his bow and quiver were borne by one menial, and his sword by another; while he himself was decorated with precious jewels. At the palace of the town, we were met by many of the respectable inhabitants, before whom the “zyafut,” or money gift, and sweetmeats of the Maharajah, were presented to us. We afterwards were conducted through the principal street, and welcomed in a gratifying manner, wherever we went. On quitting the fortress the garrison fired a salute.

Mooltan.

On the 15th we came in sight of the domes of Mooltan, which look well at a distance; and alighted in the evening at the Hoozooree Bagh, a spacious garden enclosed by a thin wall of mud, a mile distant from the city. The ground is laid out in the usual native style; two spacious walks crossed each other at right angles, and are shaded by large fruit trees, of the richest foliage. In a bungalow, at the end of one of these walks, we took up our quarters, and were received by the authorities of the city in the same hospitable manner as at Shoojuabad. They brought a purse of 2500 rupees, with 100 vessels of sweetmeats, and an abundant supply of fruit: we felt happy and gratified at the change of scene, and civilities of the people.

The city of Mooltan, is described in Mr. Elphinstone’s work on Cabool, and it may appear foreign to my purpose to mention it; but his mission was received here with great jealousy, and not permitted to view the interior of the town, or the fort. I do not hesitate, therefore, to add the following particulars, drawn up after a week’s residence. The city of Mooltan is upwards of three miles in circumference, surrounded by a dilapidated wall, and overlooked on the north by a fortress of strength. It contains a population of about 60,000 souls, one third of whom may be Hindoos; the rest of the population is Mahommedan, for though it is subject to the Seiks, their number is confined to the garrison, which does not exceed 500 men. The Afghans have left the country, since they ceased to govern. Many of the houses evidently stand on the ruins of others: they are built of burnt brick, and have flat roofs: they sometimes rise to the height of six stories, and their loftiness gives a gloomy appearance to the narrow streets. The inhabitants are chiefly weavers and dyers of cloth. The silk manufacture of Mooltan is called “kais,” and may be had of all colours, and from the value of 20 to 120 rupees: it is less delicate in texture than the “loongees” of Bhawulpoor. Runjeet Sing has with much propriety encouraged their manufacture, since he captured the city; and by giving no other cloths at his court, has greatly increased their consumption, and they are worn as sashes and scarfs by all the Seik Sirdars. They are also exported to Khorasan and India, and the duties levied are moderate. To the latter country, the route by Jaysulmeer and Beecaneer is chosen in preference to that by Sinde, from the trade being on a more equitable footing. The trade of Mooltan is much the same as at Bhawulpoor, but is on a larger scale, for it has forty Shroffs, (money changers) chiefly natives of Shikarpoor. The tombs of Mooltan are celebrated: one of them, that of Bawulhuq, who flourished upwards of 500 years ago, and was a contemporary of Sadee the Persian poet, is considered very holy; but its architecture is surpassed by that of his grandson, Rookn-i-Allum, who reposes under a massy dome sixty feet in height, which was erected in the year 1323, by the Emperor Tooghluck, as his own tomb. Its foundation stands on higher ground than the summit of the fort wall; there is also a Hindoo temple of high antiquity, called Pyladpooree; mentioned by Thevenot in 1665.

Fort of Mooltan.

The fortress of Mooltan merits a more particular description; it stands on a mound of earth, and is an irregular figure of six sides, the longest of which (towards the north-west) extends for about 400 yards. The wall has upwards of thirty towers, and is substantially built of burnt brick, to the height of forty feet outside; but in the interior, the space between the ground and its summit does not exceed four or five feet, and the foundations of some of the buildings overtop the wall, and are to be seen from the plain below. The interior is filled with houses, and till its capture by the Seiks in 1818, was peopled, but the inhabitants are not now permitted to enter, and a few mosques and cupolas, more substantially built than the other houses, alone remain among the ruins. The fortress of Mooltan has no ditch; the nature of the country will not admit of one being constructed; and Runjeet Sing has hitherto expended great sums without effect. The inundation of the Chenab, and its canals, together with rain, render the vicinity of Mooltan a marsh, even in the hot weather, and before the swell of the river has properly set in, the waters of last year remain. The walls of the fortress are protected in two places by dams of earth; the modern fort of Mooltan was built on the site of the old city, by Moorad Bukhsh, the son of Shah Jehan, about the year 1640, and it subsequently formed the Jagheer of that prince’s brothers, the unfortunate Daro Shikoh, and the renowned Aurungzebe. The Afghans seized it in the time of Ahmed Shah, and the Seiks wrested it from the Afghans, after many struggles, in 1818. The conduct of its governor during the siege, deserves mention; when called on to surrender the keys, and offered considerate treatment, he sent for reply, that they would be found in his heart, but he would never yield to an infidel; he perished bravely in the breach. His name, Moozuffur Khan, is now revered as a saint, and his tomb is placed in one of the holiest sanctuaries of Mooltan. The Seiks threw down the walls of the fort in many places, but they have since been thoroughly renewed or repaired; they are about six feet thick, and could be easily breached from the mounds that have been left in baking the bricks, which are within cannon range of the walls.

Antiquity of Mooltan supposed Capital of the Malli.

Mooltan is one of the most ancient cities in India. We read of its capture by Mahommed-bin-Cassim, in the first century of the Hejira, and its wealth afterwards attracted the Ghiznian, Ghorian, and Moghul emperors of Hindoostan. But we have little reason to doubt its being the capital of the Malli of Alexander: Major Rennell has supposed that metropolis to have been higher up, and nearer the banks of the Ravee, because Arrian states, that the inhabitants fled across that river. This is high authority, but Mooltan is styled “Malli than,” or “Malitharun” the place of the Malli, to this day, and we have no ruins near Tolumba, the site pointed at by Rennell to fix on as the supposed capital. It is expressly stated that Alexander crossed the Ravee, and after capturing two towns, led his forces to the capital city of the Malli. As the distance from the river is but thirty miles, and Mooltan is considered a place of high antiquity, I do not see why we should forsake the modern capital when in search of the ancient: had we not the earliest assurances of the age of Mooltan, its appearance would alone indicate it. The houses are piled upon ruins, and the town stands on a mound of clay, the materials of former habitations which have gradually crumbled, an infallible proof of antiquity, as I have remarked of Tatta and Ooch. The late Nawab of Mooltan, in sinking a well in the city, found a war drum, at a depth of sixty feet from the surface; and several other articles have been from time to time collected, but no coins have been hitherto seen. Mooltan may, in some degree, be considered to answer the description of the Brahmin city and its castle, which Alexander captured, before attacking the capital of the Malli; but in that case, we should have no site to fix on as the capital. The manufactures of Mooltan and Bhawulpoor, the “kais” and “loungee,” seem to assist in fixing the country of the Malli, for Quintus Curtius informs us that the ambassadors of the Malli and Oxydracæ (Mooltan and Ooch) “wore garments of cotton, lawn or muslin (lineæ vestes), interwoven with gold, and adorned with purple,” and we may safely translate “lineæ vestes,” into the stuffs of Mooltan and Bhawulpoor, which are interwoven with gold, and most frequently of a purple colour.

Buildings of Mooltan. Superstitions.

During our stay at Mooltan, we were freely conducted to view the lions of this decayed Viceroyalty of the Mogul empire. In the interior of the fort there is the Hindoo temple, before alluded to, which its votaries believe to be of boundless antiquity, and with it couple the following tradition. One Hurnakus, a giant, despised God, and worshipped himself; he desired his son Pylad to follow his steps, and was about to murder him for his contumacy, when the youth was miraculously saved by an incarnation of the Deity, who appeared in a shape of half lion and man. Hurnakus had given out that his death could never be effected in earth or air, in fire or water, by sword or bow, by night or day; and it happened without an infringement of these conditions, for Nursingavater (the name of the incarnation) seized him at dusk, and placing him on his knee, tore Hurnakus to pieces, and took his son under protection. This Hindoo temple, which goes by the name of Pyladpooree, is a low building, supported by wooden pillars, with the idols Hooneeman and Guneesa as guardians to its portal. It is the only place of Hindoo worship in Mooltan; we were denied entrance to it.

There is a shrine of some celebrity, near the walls of Mooltan, where rest the remains of Shumsi-Tabreezee, a saint from Bagdad, who is believed to have performed many miracles, and even raised the dead. This worthy, as the story is told, was flayed alive for his pretensions. He had long begged his bread in the city, and in his hunger caught a fish, which he held up to the sun, and brought that luminary near enough to roast it; this established his memory and equivocal fame on a firmer basis. The natives to this day attribute the heat of Mooltan, which is proverbial, to this incident.