period, people who can rejoice at the sound of the
dinner bell, pace the deck with determined mien when
the ship is at an angle of 45 deg., and eat “ nougat ”
an a Mediterranean swell. All credit to them, for they
are a credit to Britannia, who ought to rule the waves
a little more efficiently than she does very often. Apart
from the unhappiness caused by this part of my travels,
the ticket by P. & 0. is an item likely to prove an
insurmountable obstacle to many; but there are other
lines where, if time is no object, passages may be had
at extremely low rates, and where the small number
of passengers adds considerably to the comfort and
freedom of those who elect to go that way.
From Bombay travelling is very easy and pleasant;
a through carriage can be had, and the three-day
journey to Rawal Pindi accomplished without change,
the train stopping at convenient times for food, and the
charges both for rail and meals being very moderate.
The Indian railway carriage at first strikes terror into
the heart of the new-comer, it is so peculiarly bare and
uncompromising, the leather-covered benches, running
the opposite way to ours at home, appearing but poor
substitutes for the luxurious snowy sleeping berths
provided on home lines. But this is a tropical country,
though in Bombay in the early spring one did not
realise the fact, and air and cleanliness are the
essentials, and all else is sacrificed to these, so as the
sun lights up the khaki-coloured landscape, and its
ever-brilliant rays toast one gently through, one is
thankful for the ventilation afforded by the many
large windows, though the blacks that enter are of
the largest, but at hand is a plentiful supply of water
wherewith to remove our weather stains, and though
on arrival at Pindi appearances are apt to be more variegated
than is desirable, at least pleasant rest will have
been found on the comfortable benches made up into
beds by the handy “ man-of-all-works ” engaged at
Bombay, and a hot bath soon removes the strange
museum of geological specimens collected on face and
clothes!
At Pindi the traveller can see and understand one
of the two great buttresses of that Pax Britannica
which allows solitary folk to wander unmolested from
the great barriers of the “ roof of the world ” to little
Ceylon, tiny pendant of the vast Indian Empire, The
place is a large and pleasant barrack-yard, and one
feels as outside the scheme of things as the small urchin
who peers through the railings of the Wellington
Barracks. Despite the incongruity one continues to
peep, and in consequence, the emotional traveller must
look out for a slight attack of Jingoism or Chauvinism,
or whatever “ ism ” it is that forces him to keep
^reassuring himself that under no condition can
“ Britons ever be slaves,” or that such beautiful, well-
cared-for, well-mannered beings as our own Tommy
Atkins could be worth less than two of any like body
in any other country!
To return to the subject of probable cost, the
railway journey to Pindi costs about 100 rupees ; here
the railway stops, and one must continue one’s way