《Around the World In 80 Days》 CHAPTER10
by Jules Verne
Everybody knows that the great reversed triangle of land, with its
base in the north and its apex in the south, which is called India,
embraces fourteen hundred thousand square miles, upon which is spread
unequally a population of one hundred and eighty millions of souls.
The British Crown exercises a real and despotic dominion over the larger
portion of this vast country, and has a governor-general stationed at
Calcutta, governors at Madras, Bombay, and in Bengal, and a lieutenant-governor
at Agra.
But British India, properly so called, only embraces seven hundred
thousand square miles, and a population of from one hundred to one hundred
and ten millions of inhabitants. A considerable portion of India is
still free from British authority; and there are certain ferocious rajahs
in the interior who are absolutely independent. The celebrated East
India Company was all-powerful from 1756, when the English first gained
a foothold on the spot where now stands the city of Madras, down to
the time of the great Sepoy insurrection. It gradually annexed province
after province, purchasing them of the native chiefs, whom it seldom
paid, and appointed the governor-general and his subordinates, civil
and military. But the East India Company has now passed away, leaving
the British possessions in India directly under the control of the Crown.
The aspect of the country, as well as the manners and distinctions of
race, is daily changing.
Formerly one was obliged to travel in India by the old cumbrous methods
of going on foot or on horseback, in palanquins or unwieldy coaches;
now, fast steamboats ply on the Indus and the Ganges, and a great railway,
with branch lines joining the main line at many points on its route,
traverses the peninsula from Bombay to Calcutta in three days. This
railway does not run in a direct line across India. The distance between
Bombay and Calcutta, as the bird flies, is only from one thousand to
eleven hundred miles; but the deflections of the road increase this
distance by more than a third.
The general route of the Great Indian Peninsula Railway is as follows:
- Leaving Bombay, it passes through Salcette, crossing to the continent
opposite Tannah, goes over the chain of the Western Ghauts, runs thence
north-east as far as Burhampoor, skirts the nearly independent territory
of Bundelcund, ascends to Allahabad, turns thence eastwardly, meeting
the Ganges at Benares, then departs from the river a little, and, descending
south-eastward by Burdivan and the French town of Chandernagor, has
its terminus at Calcutta.
The passengers of the `Mongolia' went ashore at half-past four p.m.;
at exactly eight the train would start for Calcutta.
Mr Fogg, after bidding good-bye to his whist partners, left the steamer,
gave his servant several errands to do, urged it upon him to be at the
station promptly at eight, and, with his regular step, which beat to
the second, like an astronomical clock, directed his Steps to the passport
office. As for the wonders of Bombay - its famous city hall, its splendid
library, its forts and docks, its bazaars, mosques, synagogues, its
Armenian churches, and the noble pagoda on Malabar Hill with its two
polygonal towers - he cared not a straw to see them. He would not deign
to examine even the masterpieces of Elephanta, or the mysterious hypogea,
concealed southeast from the docks, or those fine remains of Buddhist
architecture, the Kanherian grottoes of the island of Salcette.
Having transacted his business at the passport office, Phileas Fogg
repaired quietly to the railway station, where he ordered dinner. Among
the dishes served up to him, the landlord especially recommended a certain
giblet of `native rabbit', on which he prided himself.
Mr Fogg accordingly tasted the dish, but, despite its spiced sauce,
found it far from palatable. He rang for the landlord, and on his appearance,
said, fixing his clear eyes upon him, `Is this rabbit, sir?'
`Yes, my lord,' the rogue boldly replied, `rabbit from the jungles.'
`And this rabbit did not mew when he was killed?'
`Mew, my lord! What, a rabbit mew! I swear to you--'
`Be so good, landlord, as not to swear, but remember this: cats were
formerly considered, in India, as sacred animals. That was a good time.'
`For the cats, my lord?'
`Perhaps for the travellers as well!'
After which Mr Fogg quietly continued his dinner. Fix had gone on shore
shortly after Mr Fogg, and his first destination was the headquarters
of the Bombay police. He made himself known as a London detective, told
his business at Bombay, and the position of affairs relative to the
supposed robber, and nervously asked if a warrant had arrived from London.
It had not reached the office; indeed, there had not yet been time for
it to arrive. Fix was sorely disappointed, and tried to obtain an order
of arrest from the director of the Bombay police. This the director
refused, as the matter concerned the London office, which alone could
legally deliver the warrant. Fix did not insist, and was fain to resign
himself to await the arrival of the important document; but he was determined
not to lose sight of the mysterious rogue as long as he stayed in Bombay.
He did not doubt for a moment, anymore than Passepartout, that Phileas
Fogg would remain there, at least until it was time for the warrant
to arrive.
Passepartout, however, had no sooner heard his master's orders on leaving
the `Mongolia', than he saw at once that they were to leave Bombay as
they had done Suez and Paris, and that the journey would be extended
at least as far as Calcutta, and perhaps beyond that place. He began
to ask himself if this bet that Mr Fogg talked about was not really
in good earnest, and whether his fate was not in truth forcing him,
despite his love of repose, around the world in eighty days!
Having purchased the usual quota of shirts and shoes, he took a leisurely
promenade about the streets, where crowds of people of many nationalities
- Europeans, Persians with pointed caps, Banyas with round turbans,
Sindis with square bonnets, Parsees with black mitres and long-robed
Armenians - were collected. It happened to be the day of a Parsee festival.
These descendants of the sect of Zoroaster - the most thrifty, civilized,
intelligent and austere of the East Indians, among whom are counted
the richest native merchants of Bombay - were celebrating a sort of
religious carnival, with processions and shows, in the midst of which
Indian dancing-girls, clothed in rose-coloured gauze, looped up with
gold and silver, danced airily, but with perfect modesty, to the sound
of viols and the clanging of tambourines. It is needless to say that
Passepartout watched these curious ceremonies with staring eyes and
gaping mouth, and that his countenance was that of the greenest booby
imaginable.
Unhappily for his master, as well as himself, his curiosity drew him
unconsciously farther off than he intended to go. At last, having seen
the Parsee carnival wind away in the distance, he was turning his steps
towards the station, when he happened to espy the splendid pagoda on
Malabar Hill, and was seized with an irresistible desire to see its
interior. He was quite ignorant that it is forbidden to Christians to
enter certain Indian temples, and that even the faithful must not go
in without first leaving their shoes outside the door. It may be said
here that the wise policy of the British Government severely punishes
a disregard of the practices of the native religions.
Passepartout, however, thinking no harm, went in like a simple tourist,
and was soon lost in admiration of the splendid Brahmin ornamentation
which everywhere met his eyes, when of a sudden he found himself sprawling
on the sacred flagging. He looked up to behold three enraged priests,
who forthwith fell upon him, tore off his shoes, and began to beat him
with loud, savage exclamations. The agile Frenchman was soon upon his
feet again, and lost no time in knocking down two of his long-gowned
adversaries with his fists and a vigorous application of his toes; then,
rushing out of the pagoda as fast as his legs could carry him, he soon
escaped the third priest by mingling with the crowd in the streets.
At five minutes before eight, Passepartout, hatless, shoeless, and
having in the squabble lost his package of shirts and shoes, rushed
breathlessly into the station.
Fix, who had followed Mr Fogg to the station, and saw that he was really
going to leave Bombay, was there, upon the platform. He had resolved
to follow the supposed robber to Calcutta, and farther, if necessary.
Passepartout did not observe the detective, who stood in an obscure
comer; but Fix heard him relate his adventures in a few words to Mr
Fogg.
`I hope that this will not happen again,' said Phileas Fogg, coldly,
as he got into the train. Poor Passepartout, quite crestfallen, followed
his master without a word. Fix was on the point of entering another
carriage, when an idea struck him which induced him to alter his plan.
`No, I'll stay,' muttered he. `An offence has been committed on Indian
soil. I've got my man.'
Just then the locomotive gave a sharp screech, and the train passed
out into the darkness of the night.
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