Convinced that we should never find the latter, in
the dry state of the country, unless by watching at some tank at night.
We therefore moved our encampment inland about twenty-five miles from
Yalle. Here there is a large tank, which I concluded would be the resort
of elephants.
A long day's journey through a burning sun brought us to Sitrawelle.
This is a small village, about six miles inward from the sea-coast
village of Kesinde. Here the natives brought us plantains and buffalo
milk, while we took shelter from the sun under a splendid tamarind tree.
Opposite to this was a 'bo'-tree; *(very similar to the banian-tree)
this grew to an extraordinary size; the wide spreading branches covered
about half an acre of ground, and the trunk measured upwards of forty
feet in circumference. The tamarind-tree was nearly the same size; and I
never saw together two such magnificent specimens of vegetation. A few
paces from this spot, a lake of about four miles' circuit lay in the
centre of a plain; this was surrounded by open forests and jungles, all
of which looked like good covers for game. Skirting the opposite banks
of the lake, we pitched the tent under some shady trees upon a fine
level sward. By this time it was nearly dusk, and I had barely time to
stroll out and kill a peacock for dinner before night set in.
The next morning, having been joined by my friend, Mr. P. Braybrook,
then government agent of this district, our party was increased to
three, and seeing no traces of elephants in this neighbourhood, we
determined to proceed to a place called Wihare-welle, about six miles
farther inland.
Our route now lay along a broad causeway of solid masonry. On either
side of this road, stone pillars of about twelve feet in height stood in
broken, rows, and lay scattered in every direction through the jungle.
Ruined dagobas and temples jutted their rugged summits above the
tree-tops, and many lines of stone columns stood in parallel rows, the
ancient supports of buildings of a similar character to those of
Pollanarua and Anarajahpoora. We were among the ruins of ancient
Mahagam. One of the ruined buildings had apparently rested upon
seventy-two pillars. These were still erect, standing in six lines of
twelve columns; every stone appeared to be about fourteen feet high by
two feet square and twenty-five feet apart. This building must therefore
have formed an oblong of 300 feet by 150. Many of the granite blocks
were covered with rough carving; large flights of steps, now irregular
from the inequality of the ground, were scattered here and there; and
the general appearance of the ruins was similar to that of Pollanarua,
but of smaller extent. The stone causeway which passed through the ruins
was about two miles in length, being for the most part overgrown with
low jungle and prickly cactus. I traversed the jungle for some distance
until arrested by the impervious nature of the bushes; but wherever I
went, the ground was stewed with squared stones and fallen brickwork
overgrown with rank vegetation.
The records of Ceylon do not afford any satisfactory information
concerning the original foundation of this city. The first time that we
hear of it is in the year 286 B.C.; but we have no account of the era or
cause of its desertion. Although Mahagam is the only vestige of an
ancient city in this district, there are many ruined buildings and
isolated dagobas of great antiquity scattered throughout the country. I
observed on a peak of one of the Kattregam hills large masses of fallen
brickwork, the ruins of some former buildings, probably coeval with
Mahagam. The whole of this district, now so wild and desolate, must in
those days have been thickly populated and highly cultivated, although,
from the present appearance of the country, it does not seem possible
that it has ever altered its aspect since the Creation.
Descending a steep bank shaded by large trees, we crossed the bed of the
Manick Ganga (`Jewel River'). The sand was composed of a mixture of
mica, quartz, sapphire, ruby, and jacinth, but the large proportion of
ruby sand was so extraordinary that it seemed to rival Sindbad the
Sailor's vale of gems. The whole of this was valueless, but the
appearance of the sand was very inviting, as the shallow stream in
rippling over it magnified the tiny gems into stones of some magnitude.
I passed an hour in vainly searching for a ruby worth collecting, but
the largest did not exceed the size of mustard seed.
The natives use this sand for cutting elephants' teeth, in the same
manner that a stonemason uses sand to assist him in sawing through a
stone. Elephants' teeth or grinders are so hard that they will produce
sparks upon being struck with a hatchet.
About two miles from the opposite bank of the river, having journeyed
through a narrow path bordered upon either side by thick jungle, we
opened upon an extensive plain close to the village of Wihare-welle.
This plain was covered with wild indigo, and abounded with peafowl.
Passing through the small village at the extremity of the plain, we
pitched the tent upon the borders of the lake, about a quarter of a mile
beyond it. This tank was about three miles in circumference, and, like
that of Sitrawelle, was one of the ancient works of the Mahagam princes.
The village was almost deserted; none but the old men and women and
children remained, as the able-bodied men had gone to the Kattregam
festival.
