I also went to the Byculla ball,
which was very well done. While at Bombay I saw the mango trick for the
first time. It is apt to astonish one at first to see a tree planted and
grow before one's eyes without any apparent means to accomplish it. The
Indian jugglers are clever, but I have seen better at Cairo. We were
tired of the child being killed in the basket, and the mango trick soon
became stale.
On February 21 we left Bombay for Matheran, up in the mountains. We went
by train to Narel; but the last stage of the journey, after Narel, had to
be performed on horseback, or rather pony-back. We rode through seven
miles of splendid mountain scenery, an ascent of two thousand seven
hundred feet. Carriages would not come here unless they were carried
upon the head like the philanthropist's wheelbarrows by the Africans of
Sierra Leone. Our road was very rough, and our ponies stumbled and
shied at the dogs. I was badly dressed for the occasion. My small
hired saddle cut me; it was loose, and had too long a stirrup; and
although we were only two hours ascending, and six hours out, I was
tired by the time we arrived at Matheran.
The next day we were up betimes. I was delighted with the wooded lanes
and the wild flowers, the pure atmosphere, and the lights and shadows
playing on the big foliage. We looked down on magnificent ravines among
buttressed-shaped mountains. The fantastic Ghats rose up out of the
plain before us.
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