by Jules Verne
Chapter XI
IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG SECURES A CURIOUS MEANS OF CONVEYANCE AT AFABULOUS PRICE
The train had started punctually. Among the passengers were a numberof officers, Government officials, and opium and indigo merchants,whose business called them to the eastern coast. Passepartout rode inthe same carriage with his master, and a third passenger occupied aseat opposite to them. This was Sir Francis Cromarty, one of Mr.Fogg's whist partners on the Mongolia, now on his way to join his corpsat Benares. Sir Francis was a tall, fair man of fifty, who had greatlydistinguished himself in the last Sepoy revolt. He made India hishome, only paying brief visits to England at rare intervals; and wasalmost as familiar as a native with the customs, history, and characterof India and its people. But Phileas Fogg, who was not travelling, butonly describing a circumference, took no pains to inquire into thesesubjects; he was a solid body, traversing an orbit around theterrestrial globe, according to the laws of rational mechanics. He wasat this moment calculating in his mind the number of hours spent sincehis departure from London, and, had it been in his nature to make auseless demonstration, would have rubbed his hands for satisfaction.Sir Francis Cromarty had observed the oddity of his travellingcompanion--although the only opportunity he had for studying him hadbeen while he was dealing the cards, and between two rubbers--andquestioned himself whether a human heart really beat beneath this coldexterior, and whether Phileas Fogg had any sense of the beauties ofnature. The brigadier-general was free to mentally confess that, ofall the eccentric persons he had ever met, none was comparable to thisproduct of the exact sciences.
Phileas Fogg had not concealed from Sir Francis his design of goinground the world, nor the circumstances under which he set out; and thegeneral only saw in the wager a useless eccentricity and a lack ofsound common sense. In the way this strange gentleman was going on, hewould leave the world without having done any good to himself oranybody else.
An hour after leaving Bombay the train had passed the viaducts and theIsland of Salcette, and had got into the open country. At Callyan theyreached the junction of the branch line which descends towardssouth-eastern India by Kandallah and Pounah; and, passing Pauwell, theyentered the defiles of the mountains, with their basalt bases, andtheir summits crowned with thick and verdant forests. Phileas Fogg andSir Francis Cromarty exchanged a few words from time to time, and nowSir Francis, reviving the conversation, observed, "Some years ago, Mr.Fogg, you would have met with a delay at this point which wouldprobably have lost you your wager."
"How so, Sir Francis?"
"Because the railway stopped at the base of these mountains, which thepassengers were obliged to cross in palanquins or on ponies toKandallah, on the other side."
"Such a delay would not have deranged my plans in the least," said Mr.Fogg. "I have constantly foreseen the likelihood of certain obstacles."
"But, Mr. Fogg," pursued Sir Francis, "you run the risk of having somedifficulty about this worthy fellow's adventure at the pagoda."Passepartout, his feet comfortably wrapped in his travelling-blanket,was sound asleep and did not dream that anybody was talking about him."The Government is very severe upon that kind of offence. It takesparticular care that the religious customs of the Indians should berespected, and if your servant were caught--"
"Very well, Sir Francis," replied Mr. Fogg; "if he had been caught hewould have been condemned and punished, and then would have quietlyreturned to Europe. I don't see how this affair could have delayed hismaster."
The conversation fell again. During the night the train left themountains behind, and passed Nassik, and the next day proceeded overthe flat, well-cultivated country of the Khandeish, with its stragglingvillages, above which rose the minarets of the pagodas. This fertileterritory is watered by numerous small rivers and limpid streams,mostly tributaries of the Godavery.
Passepartout, on waking and looking out, could not realise that he wasactually crossing India in a railway train. The locomotive, guided byan English engineer and fed with English coal, threw out its smoke uponcotton, coffee, nutmeg, clove, and pepper plantations, while the steamcurled in spirals around groups of palm-trees, in the midst of whichwere seen picturesque bungalows, viharis (sort of abandonedmonasteries), and marvellous temples enriched by the exhaustlessornamentation of Indian architecture. Then they came upon vast tractsextending to the horizon, with jungles inhabited by snakes and tigers,which fled at the noise of the train; succeeded by forests penetratedby the railway, and still haunted by elephants which, with pensiveeyes, gazed at the train as it passed. The travellers crossed, beyondMilligaum, the fatal country so often stained with blood by thesectaries of the goddess Kali. Not far off rose Ellora, with itsgraceful pagodas, and the famous Aurungabad, capital of the ferociousAureng-Zeb, now the chief town of one of the detached provinces of thekingdom of the Nizam. It was thereabouts that Feringhea, the Thuggeechief, king of the stranglers, held his sway. These ruffians, unitedby a secret bond, strangled victims of every age in honour of thegoddess Death, without ever shedding blood; there was a period whenthis part of the country could scarcely be travelled over withoutcorpses being found in every direction. The English Government hassucceeded in greatly diminishing these murders, though the Thuggeesstill exist, and pursue the exercise of their horrible rites.
At half-past twelve the train stopped at Burhampoor where Passepartoutwas able to purchase some Indian slippers, ornamented with falsepearls, in which, with evident vanity, he proceeded to encase his feet.The travellers made a hasty breakfast and started off for Assurghur,after skirting for a little the banks of the small river Tapty, whichempties into the Gulf of Cambray, near Surat.
Passepartout was now plunged into absorbing reverie. Up to his arrivalat Bombay, he had entertained hopes that their journey would end there;but, now that they were plainly whirling across India at full speed, asudden change had come over the spirit of his dreams. His old vagabondnature returned to him; the fantastic ideas of his youth once more tookpossession of him. He came to regard his master's project as intendedin good earnest, believed in the reality of the bet, and therefore inthe tour of the world and the necessity of making it without failwithin the designated period. Already he began to worry about possibledelays, and accidents which might happen on the way. He recognisedhimself as being personally interested in the wager, and trembled atthe thought that he might have been the means of losing it by hisunpardonable folly of the night before. Being much less cool-headedthan Mr. Fogg, he was much more restless, counting and recounting thedays passed over, uttering maledictions when the train stopped, andaccusing it of sluggishness, and mentally blaming Mr. Fogg for nothaving bribed the engineer. The worthy fellow was ignorant that, whileit was possible by such means to hasten the rate of a steamer, it couldnot be done on the railway.
The train entered the defiles of the Sutpour Mountains, which separatethe Khandeish from Bundelcund, towards evening. The next day SirFrancis Cromarty asked Passepartout what time it was; to which, onconsulting his watch, he replied that it was three in the morning.This famous timepiece, always regulated on the Greenwich meridian,which was now some seventy-seven degrees westward, was at least fourhours slow. Sir Francis corrected Passepartout's time, whereupon thelatter made the same remark that he had done to Fix; and upon thegeneral insisting that the watch should be regulated in each newmeridian, since he was constantly going eastward, that is in the faceof the sun, and therefore the days were shorter by four minutes foreach degree gone over, Passepartout obstinately refused to alter hiswatch, which he kept at London time. It was an innocent delusion whichcould harm no one.
The train stopped, at eight o'clock, in the midst of a glade somefifteen miles beyond Rothal, where there were several bungalows, andworkmen's cabins. The conductor, passing along the carriages, shouted,"Passengers will get out here!"
Phileas Fogg looked at Sir Francis Cromarty for an explanation; but thegeneral could not tell what meant a halt in the midst of this forest ofdates and
acacias.
Passepartout, not less surprised, rushed out and speedily returned,crying: "Monsieur, no more railway!"
"What do you mean?" asked Sir Francis.
"I mean to say that the train isn't going on."
The general at once stepped out, while Phileas Fogg calmly followedhim, and they proceeded together to the conductor.
"Where are we?" asked Sir Francis.
"At the hamlet of Kholby."
"Do we stop here?"
"Certainly. The railway isn't finished."
"What! not finished?"
"No. There's still a matter of fifty miles to be laid from here toAllahabad, where the line begins again."
"But the papers announced the opening of the railway throughout."
"What would you have, officer? The papers were mistaken."
"Yet you sell tickets from Bombay to Calcutta," retorted Sir Francis,who was growing warm.
"No doubt," replied the conductor; "but the passengers know that theymust provide means of transportation for themselves from Kholby toAllahabad."
Sir Francis was furious. Passepartout would willingly have knocked theconductor down, and did not dare to look at his master.
"Sir Francis," said Mr. Fogg quietly, "we will, if you please, lookabout for some means of conveyance to Allahabad."
"Mr. Fogg, this is a delay greatly to your disadvantage."
"No, Sir Francis; it was foreseen."
"What! You knew that the way--"
"Not at all; but I knew that some obstacle or other would sooner orlater arise on my route. Nothing, therefore, is lost. I have two days,which I have already gained, to sacrifice. A steamer leaves Calcuttafor Hong Kong at noon, on the 25th. This is the 22nd, and we shallreach Calcutta in time."
There was nothing to say to so confident a response.
It was but too true that the railway came to a termination at thispoint. The papers were like some watches, which have a way of gettingtoo fast, and had been premature in their announcement of thecompletion of the line. The greater part of the travellers were awareof this interruption, and, leaving the train, they began to engage suchvehicles as the village could provide four-wheeled palkigharis, waggonsdrawn by zebus, carriages that looked like perambulating pagodas,palanquins, ponies, and what not.
Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty, after searching the village from endto end, came back without having found anything.
"I shall go afoot," said Phileas Fogg.
Passepartout, who had now rejoined his master, made a wry grimace, ashe thought of his magnificent, but too frail Indian shoes. Happily hetoo had been looking about him, and, after a moment's hesitation, said,"Monsieur, I think I have found a means of conveyance."
"What?"
"An elephant! An elephant that belongs to an Indian who lives but ahundred steps from here."
"Let's go and see the elephant," replied Mr. Fogg.
They soon reached a small hut, near which, enclosed within some highpalings, was the animal in question. An Indian came out of the hut,and, at their request, conducted them within the enclosure. Theelephant, which its owner had reared, not for a beast of burden, butfor warlike purposes, was half domesticated. The Indian had begunalready, by often irritating him, and feeding him every three months onsugar and butter, to impart to him a ferocity not in his nature, thismethod being often employed by those who train the Indian elephants forbattle. Happily, however, for Mr. Fogg, the animal's instruction inthis direction had not gone far, and the elephant still preserved hisnatural gentleness. Kiouni--this was the name of the beast--coulddoubtless travel rapidly for a long time, and, in default of any othermeans of conveyance, Mr. Fogg resolved to hire him. But elephants arefar from cheap in India, where they are becoming scarce, the males,which alone are suitable for circus shows, are much sought, especiallyas but few of them are domesticated. When therefore Mr. Fogg proposedto the Indian to hire Kiouni, he refused point-blank. Mr. Foggpersisted, offering the excessive sum of ten pounds an hour for theloan of the beast to Allahabad. Refused. Twenty pounds? Refusedalso. Forty pounds? Still refused. Passepartout jumped at eachadvance; but the Indian declined to be tempted. Yet the offer was analluring one, for, supposing it took the elephant fifteen hours toreach Allahabad, his owner would receive no less than six hundredpounds sterling.
Phileas Fogg, without getting in the least flurried, then proposed topurchase the animal outright, and at first offered a thousand poundsfor him. The Indian, perhaps thinking he was going to make a greatbargain, still refused.
Sir Francis Cromarty took Mr. Fogg aside, and begged him to reflectbefore he went any further; to which that gentleman replied that he wasnot in the habit of acting rashly, that a bet of twenty thousand poundswas at stake, that the elephant was absolutely necessary to him, andthat he would secure him if he had to pay twenty times his value.Returning to the Indian, whose small, sharp eyes, glistening withavarice, betrayed that with him it was only a question of how great aprice he could obtain. Mr. Fogg offered first twelve hundred, thenfifteen hundred, eighteen hundred, two thousand pounds. Passepartout,usually so rubicund, was fairly white with suspense.
At two thousand pounds the Indian yielded.
"What a price, good heavens!" cried Passepartout, "for an elephant."
It only remained now to find a guide, which was comparatively easy. Ayoung Parsee, with an intelligent face, offered his services, which Mr.Fogg accepted, promising so generous a reward as to materiallystimulate his zeal. The elephant was led out and equipped. TheParsee, who was an accomplished elephant driver, covered his back witha sort of saddle-cloth, and attached to each of his flanks somecuriously uncomfortable howdahs. Phileas Fogg paid the Indian withsome banknotes which he extracted from the famous carpet-bag, aproceeding that seemed to deprive poor Passepartout of his vitals.Then he offered to carry Sir Francis to Allahabad, which the brigadiergratefully accepted, as one traveller the more would not be likely tofatigue the gigantic beast. Provisions were purchased at Kholby, and,while Sir Francis and Mr. Fogg took the howdahs on either side,Passepartout got astride the saddle-cloth between them. The Parseeperched himself on the elephant's neck, and at nine o'clock they setout from the village, the animal marching off through the dense forestof palms by the shortest cut.