The Pearl of India by Maturin Murray Ballou (always you kirsty moseley TXT) 📕

One instinctively seeks the shade of the broad piazza which surrounds the hotel, as the sun approaches the zenith. Only the early part of the day and the late afternoon will admit of the traveler's appearing abroad with any degree of comfort. A local tableau is pretty sure to present itself, as it is the favorite time for the native jugglers and snake charmers to appear upon the scene, squatting upon their hands after the true Asiatic fashion, and quite oblivious of the fervor of the broiling sun, while they solicit your attention to their entertaining tricks. There are generally three performers on these occasions, one of whom is the active member of the party, assisted by a lad of twelve or fifteen years, while the third elicits peculiar notes in a minor key from a reed instrument not unlike a flageolet, but utterly devoid of harmony. One is forced to admit that they are very clever, these Indian prestidigitators, excelling in all forms of sleight-of-hand. Their facility in causing articles to disappear suddenly and then to exhibit themselves in out-of-the-way places is curious as well as unaccountable to an outsider. A common trick with these performers is to throw a ball very high into the air, which seems to fade away as the eye follows it, and does not apparently return to the ground. It literally vanishes from sight. The keenest watchfulness of the observer does not solve the manner of accomplishing this trick.

"We are all hypnotized," said one of the spectators on the piazza, "else how could that ball come down to the earth and not be seen to do so? It must descend, having once ascended," he added; "that is a law of nature."

"It may possibly be something of that sort," responded another equally dazed spectator. "The Hindus know all about hypnotism, and have practiced it more or less for many centuries, though we are but just beginning to investigate it."

"How these marvelous things are performed, no foreigner ever knows," added a third. "The power is handed down from father to son, but is never revealed to the multitude."

The only way we can explain some of the tricks and apparent miracles which these performers exhibit is by supposing that for the time being we are quite under the hypnotic influence of the magician. The author has seen in India proper a performer in this line extend a glass bowl full of water in his hand at arm's length, and cause it to gradually grow less and less in size until it disappeared altogether. After a moment it appeared again in the hand and at the same place, beginning at first about the size of an English walnut, and growing before the spectator's eyes to its normal condition.

Another common trick is to plant a mango seed in an earthen pot before the spectator's eyes and cause the same to spring up and grow into a small bush, then blossom and bear a green fruit, which finally ripens until it is in a condition to be plucked from the stem. This entire process is accomplished in half an hour, while some side tricks are going on. The swallowing of a sword, or rather passing its blade down the throat into the stomach, is very common with these Singhalese itinerant exhibitors, a facility which is acquired after much patient practice, and which is not necessarily injurious to the performer.

The snakes which these "charmers," as they call themselves, handle with such apparent recklessness and freedom are of the deadly cobra family, fatally poisonous when their fangs penetrate the flesh of other animals or of human beings; but as is well known, the repulsive and seemingly dangerous creatures which are publicly exhibited in this manner have had their natural means of defense carefully removed. Yet, true to their instincts, they may be seen now and again to strike viciously at the bare arms and legs of the natives who handle them, while the performance is going on. It is not a very pleasing, though a curious exhibition, and as a rule is avoided by ladies. The author has seen a sensitive person of the gentler sex so wrought upon by this performance as to cause her to faint. Sometimes the cobras do seem to pay attention to the low, droning notes of the pipe, which is often accompanied by a rude tom-tom. The creatures raise themselves up on their tails, swaying slowly hither and thither with a uniform motion, as though realizing that they are on exhibition. That they know their owners is evident, since upon the approach of a stranger they immediately show great irritation and a desire to strike with their fangs. One never witnesses these scenes without a sense of surprise that the cobras do not promptly endeavor to escape upon being taken out of the box in which they are transported. They do not show any such desire, but hasten back to their place of confinement, which is doubtless made comfortable for them, and where some bit of favorite food is always given to them after each exhibition. Thus they soon learn to associate the idea of feeding time with their public performance, which doubtless adds to their docility on the occasion.

These repulsive-looking creatures are hooded and spectacled, vary in length from three to six feet, and are covered with dark spots upon a slate-colored skin. Back of the head and along the neck is a membrane which they have the power of expanding when under excitement, and around the eyes are circles giving the effect of spectacles, which the snakes seem to need, for though their hearing is acute enough they have a very dull capacity as to sight. The cobra has received much attention from naturalists in consequence of certain singular habits which are attributed to the creature. The natives do not trouble themselves much about it, except to give it a wide berth when it is encountered, knowing only too well the fatal nature of its bite.

Professor Houdin, a famous Parisian magician, when on a visit to this island, after watching the Indian jugglers for a week, invited as many of them as chose to come to a public exhibition given by himself. The natives came by scores, and the reader may be sure that Houdin did his best. The Singhalese "sleight-o'-hand men," when they saw him perform many of their own tricks with far greater expertness than they could do, were surprised beyond measure. He then exhibited others so strange and so inexplicable to them that the Singhalese declared he must be in league with evil spirits. In their performances they were openly assisted by one or two associates, a prime necessity to enable them to deceive the lookers-on. But here was an unpretentious, simply dressed European, who stood before them alone, with only a small, common table upon which to place necessary articles, plainly shown before all eyes, who yet puzzled them completely. His tricks were mostly new to them, and they gazed with open mouths at the white necromancer, then into each others' faces, as much as to say: "What does this mean? whence does this man obtain power to perform miracles?" All this was intensely amusing to the English residents of Colombo, who also formed a large portion of the audience.

But the climax was yet to come.

When Houdin finally blew a fiery flame and smoke from his mouth,—a well-known act among European performers,—these superstitious islanders absolutely fled from his presence in undisguised consternation, unanimously and vehemently declaring that he must be the king devil himself come to bewitch them. This was the more surprising as these Indian experts must have realized the true source of their own deceptive powers.

The hoarse, monotonous croaking of the crows at all hours of the day is one of the ceaseless annoyances and accompaniments of life in Colombo. Early risers see whole colonies of these obtrusive and omnipresent birds coming in from their roosting-places in the neighboring groves, seeking whom they may devour. They advance in irresistible numbers, like an army with banners loudly announcing their approach, like a marching regiment preceded by noisy fifes and drums, now wheeling as one huge body, and now breaking into sections and platoons. One might successfully resist a score of them, but when they come by the thousand, it is like a plague of locusts. Crows enjoy nearly the same immunity throughout the populous districts of India proper, and are to be found nearly as much in possession at Benares, Delhi, or Cawnpore as they are here in the capital of Ceylon.

About twelve miles south of Colombo, just off the shore at Belligam, lies what is known as Crow Island, whither thousands of these birds resort every night to roost. They do not fail, however, to return to the capital bright and early in the morning. Probably a flight of twelve or fifteen miles from their regular night quarters before breakfast is of no account to these active, swift-winged creatures. There is still another crow-roost nearer to Colombo, at Mount Lavonia, in the thick palm groves which skirt the shore, within rifle-shot of that pleasant summer resort. When they awake in the early morning and prepare for their flight cityward, the combined noise which they make is something like the roar of artillery.