Offered up sacrifices *****
Calcutta, November 9, 1913
Telegrams:
“GRAND”
Telephone No. 15
Sallie dear:
Four lovely letters from you, the last one posted from Philadelphia, so I am more happy than I’ve been for ages to know that you are all safely home. That’s selfish of me in a way, but I am glad to be able to write there again. Let me warn you now that the letter may end suddenly as I’m just waiting for the rest to come down, and then we are off to the train for Darjeeling. We’ve been here nearly a week and have certainly had gay times. The consul is away, but there are two lively vice consuls, one just married a Texas girl two months ago; and some most attractive English Army officers. All have been doing things for us all the time, as well as Mr. Wallenberg, the Swede I told you about in my last letter, who by the way has more money than he knows what to do with.
He has been whizzing us around every where in his car, and now is planning to take us in it to [Peshameer], over 1500 miles – wouldn’t that be lovely – if he can manage to get away. He’s interested in oil, and has just had several hundred coolies sent from southern India, so he isn’t sure that he can leave, but I hope it can be arranged. I’ve never seen anyone who seemed to so thoroughly enjoy giving people things and doing a lot for them. He is always bringing us fruits, candy, cakes, etc. and when he was away two days, he would send telegrams every now and then to Mrs. C. or me. He came back last night and is going to D. for a week with us now. If the road was alright he would take us in his car, but they have too many rivers and wash outs to cross.
I told you about Mrs. Gillis and her daughters, didn’t I? They are going too, with us. Traveling here is not what it is in other countries. We are now the proud possessors of a servant who helps us pack, makes our beds on the trains, sometimes waits on the table, orders carriages, goes everywhere with us, and at night sleeps on the hard marble floor outside our room. Also acts as guide. We have invested in sheets, blankets, mosquito nets, a little stove, plates, knives & forks, napkins and all sorts of provisions which the boy prepares on the train for us. You see the distances are tremendous here, so one is always on the train for several meals, and at night, and although the trains are quite comfortable, nothing is provided.
This morning we got up early to see a very unusual annual religious feast. There is a huge square in front of the hotel, several dozen acres and on this were thousands of natives in their brilliant costumes and gay turbans, all standing with their prayer rugs in front of them, and as the high priest stood up they all bent as one great mass and beat their heads on the ground, chanting some weird prayers and songs. After that they offered up sacrifices of burnt cattle. It was all very impressive and interesting.
We’ve been to the theater (English) every night, and as it doesn’t commence till 9:45 you can imagine what time we get to bed. Nothing starts till the most ridiculous hours. Don’t lose heart, Angel, and stop writing. I get them all I think, only it is my fault as we junket around so that they come in lumps and then a long anxious wait.
Hunting Elephants*****
British India Steam navigation Co. Ltd.
S.S. Elephanta
Sallie dearest:
Each country that we leave I feel that one more chapter is finished and I can turn over so many pages. Am beginning to feel now that we really are getting nearer home each time we move to a new place. For so long we were just see-sawing back and forth across the equator and never gaining any ground.
Our trip up the Irawaddy was lovely and so much more worth while than I had anticipated. Never have I seen such marvelous colorings both in the landscape and the artistic way the natives dress. I’m sure if I had stayed much longer I should have just had to be an artist, whether I wanted to or not. I was continually conscious of the beauty of the different combinations of shades and tints and I don’t see how anyone who had lived there all their life would ever be content to live elsewhere. I’ve never felt so about any other country than Burma.
Coming down the river were a Mr. and Mrs. Stewart who had just come from the jungle, where they had been for three months hunting elephants. They had most interesting photographs taken at all stages and were very nice about telling me every little detail. I’ve always had a secret longing to know about elephants, for they fascinate me more than any animal I know of, so I asked questions till my tongue was tired. Mrs. S. had been with him the whole time, and simply loved it. They each had their own Elephant that they rode when they were hunting, and once they were up in a tree for three days without coming down. Couldn’t speak above a whisper or smoke a cigarette for fear of scaring them away, and while they were in their tents they had such trouble with the leopards and panthers and tigers stealing their dogs. Once they caught a python twenty-four feet long. They had of course many natives along and eighty trained elephants who could do the most wonderful things. They go out with a driver on their head and chase in the wild ones, can tie knots in the ropes to bind them, and if the driver falls off, the elephant pushes him under his body with its trunk, and stands over him fighting the wild ones off. Mrs. S. said that she was too heavy for the elephant to pick her up in his trunk, so in the jungle where they had no ladder she always climbed up by his tail. If she dropped her handkerchief he would pick it up to hand it to her. They were getting them for the government – captured 105 wild ones this time. They send the young ones to Hagenback to train, and train the others for work, although they can’t carry anything till they’re twelve years old, and not a full load till they are thirty five. Then after seventy they begin to wear out, although they live to be very old. Now I’m simply longing to go hunting. Elephants I’d like best, but tigers would be fun too. That sounds like I’m putting on airs, but I don’t mean it that way. Until now I’ve never had the slightest interest in wild animal hunting, but now it seems so much simpler than I had imagined, although I know still there are many dangers, but I should love to try it. Lover wants to do some I heard him say once, so perhaps I can have the opportunity then.
There was a Mr. and Mrs. Cropper in Manila when we were – from Chicago. We saw them in Honk Kong, Java, came back on the boat with them, were together on the way to Rangoon – up the Irawaddy and down, and now on this steamer. Also a Mrs. Gillis from Los Angeles and her three daughters about my age whom we have seen almost as many places, and a Swedish man whose mother married a second time into the royal family in Italy, so his half brother is a well known Italian prince. They are all awfully nice and we have grown to know each other quite well, being together so long. The night before we left Rangoon the Swedish man took me to the theater. The first time I’ve been for ages. Of course, it wasn’t much good, but it was something to see. He has a beautiful car in which we have been motoring several times and he is planning more expeditions for us when we reach Calcutta.
I have never told you about the sun in these parts, have I? Well ever since we struck Siam, in fact China, people have urged us to get topees, that is pith and cork hats, on account of sunstroke. Father got one in Tientsin, but Mrs. C. and I couldn’t get around to it somehow. I hated in the first place to be burdened with an extra hat, and in the second place I didn’t think I needed it and still don’t, but suppose it’s better to be on the safe side, and everyone fussed so and talked so much about me that I too have joined the throng, and am now wearing a thick white one, but had the customary green facing covered with Delft blue so that it is as becoming as one can ever be. The sun in Burma and India is different evidently from that of any other country. It simply sizzles up one’s brain while you stoop over to pick up your hat if it blows off, even with a parasol over you. People are sent home to England all the time to spend the rest of their days in an insane asylum, and the other day a man at the hotel, who had just arrived and not yet procured a topee was found running around in the lobby in his pyjamas asking everyone how they fitted him! Think what might have happened to me! Even in places where it is cool enough to sit in the sun to get warm, one doesn’t dare do it. I got heaps of mail in Rangoon from Lover, but not a drop from you, so am hoping to find some tomorrow in Calcutta. Our address is now c/o U.S. Consul, Colombo, Ceylon. Heaps of love.
Alice
November 2, 1913
