With their dense foliage.
Two or three families of 'Cyclops' would not have been out of place in
this spot; they were just the class of people that one would expect to
meet.
Late in the afternoon we arrived at the long-talked-of village of
Oomanoo, about eighteen miles from our last encampment. It was a
squalid, miserable place, of course, and nothing was obtainable. Our
coolies had not tasted food since the preceding evening; but, by good
luck, we met a travelling Moorman, who had just arrived at the village
with a little rice to exchange with the Veddahs for dried venison. As
the villagers did not happen to have any meat to barter, we purchased
all the rice at an exorbitant price; but it was only sufficient for half
a meal for each servant and coolie, when equally divided.
Fortunately, we killed four snipe and two doves these were added to our
last two tins of provisions, which were 'hotch potch,' and stewed
altogether. This made a good dinner. We had now nothing left but our
biscuits and groceries. All our hams and preserved meats were gone, and
we only had one meal on that day.
Nov. 27.--Our horses had eaten nothing but grass for many days; this,
however, was excellent, and old Jack looked fat, and was as hardy as
ever. We now discharged our Veddah guides, and took on others from
Oomanoo. These men told us that we were only four miles from the
Batticaloa road, and with great glee we started at break of day,
determined to breakfast on arrival at the road.
The old adage of 'Many a slip `twixt the cup and the lip' was here fully
exemplified. Four miles! We rode twenty-five miles without drawing the
rein once! and at length we then did reach the road; that is to say, a
narrow track of grass, which is the track to Batticaloa for which we had
been steering during our journey. A native but in this wilderness
rendered the place worthy of a name; it is therefore known upon the
Government maps as 'Pyeley.'
From this place we were directed on to 'Curhellulai,' a village
represented to us as a small London, abounding with every luxury. We
obtained a guide and started, as they assured us it was only two miles
distant.
After riding three miles through a country of open glades and thick
jungle, the same guide who had at first told us it was two miles from
'Pyeley,' now said it was only 'three miles farther on.' We knew these
fellows' ideas of distance too well to proceed any farther. We had
quitted the Batticaloa track, and we immediately dismounted, unsaddled,
and turned the horses loose upon the grass.
Having had only one meal the day before, and no breakfast this morning,
we looked forward with impatience to the arrival of the coolies,
although I confess I did not expect them, as they were too weak from
want of food to travel far. They had only half a meal the day before,
and nothing at all the day before that.
We had halted in a grassy glade surrounded by thick jungle. There were
numerous fresh tracks of deer and elk, but the animals themselves would
not show.
As evening approached, we collected a quantity of dead timber and
lighted a good fire, before which we piled the rifles, three and three,
about ten feet apart. Across these we laid a pole, and then piled
branches from the ground to the pole in a horizontal position. This made
a shed to protect us from the dew, and, with our saddles for pillows, we
all lay down together and slept soundly till morning.
Nov. 28.--We woke hungry, and accordingly tightened our belts by two or
three holes. V. Baker had to be in Kandy by the evening of the 30th, and
he was now determined to push on. His pony had thrown all his shoes, and
had eaten nothing but grass for many days.
I knew our position well, as I had been lost near this spot about two
years ago. We were fifty-three miles from Badulla. Nevertheless, V. B.
started off, and arrived in Badulla that evening. On the same pony he
pushed on to Newera Ellia, thirty-six miles, the next day; and then
taking a fresh horse, he rode into Kandy, forty-seven miles, arriving in
good time on the evening of the 30th November.
Having parted with V. B., we saddled and mounted, and, following our
guide through a forest-path, we arrived at Curhellulai after a ride of
four miles. Nothing could exceed the wretchedness of this place, from
which we had been led to expect so much. We could not even procure a
grain of rice from the few small huts which composed the village. The
headman, who himself looked half-starved, made some cakes of korrakan;
but as they appeared to be composed of two parts of sand, one of dirt
and one of grain, I preferred a prolonged abstinence to such filth. The
abject poverty of the whole of this country is beyond description.
Our coolies arrived at eight A.M., faint and tired; they no longer
turned up their noses at korrakan, as they did at Monampitya, but they
filled themselves almost to bursting.
I started off V. B.'s coolies after him, also eight men whose loads had
been consumed, and, with a diminished party, we started for Bibille,
which the natives assured us was only nineteen miles from this spot. For
once they were about correct in their ideas of distance. The beautiful
'Park' country commenced about four miles from Curhellulai, and, after a
lovely ride through this scenery for sixteen miles, we arrived at the
luxurious and pretty village of Bibille, which had so often been my
quarters.
