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Around the World in Eighty Days
Chapter 11. IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG SECURES A CURIOUS MEANS OF CONVEYANCE AT A FABULOUS PRICE
The train had started on time.
Among the passengers were a number of officers, Government officials, and opium and indigo merchants whose work sent them to the eastern coast.
Passepartout rode in the same carriage with his master, and a third passenger sat opposite them.
This was Sir Francis Cromarty, one of Mr. Fogg's whist partners on the "Mongolia," now on his way to join his corps at Benares.
Sir Francis was a tall, fair man of fifty who had greatly shown his courage in the last Sepoy revolt.
He made India his home and only paid short visits to England sometimes.
He knew almost as much as a local about the customs, history, and character of India and its people.
But Phileas Fogg, who wasn't travelling for pleasure, but only going round the world, didn't try to learn those things.
He was a solid man moving along an orbit around the earth, as if by the laws of science.
At this moment he was counting the hours since he left London.
If he had wanted to make a useless show, he would have rubbed his hands for pleasure.
Sir Francis Cromarty had noticed the odd way his travel companion behaved although he had only seen him while playing cards and between two games.
He asked himself whether a human heart really beat under that cold outside, and whether Phileas Fogg had any sense for the beauty of nature.
The brigadier-general felt he could say to himself that, of all the strange people he had met, none was like this man of exact sciences.
Phileas Fogg hadn't hidden from Sir Francis his plan to go round the world, nor the reason he left.
The general saw in the wager only a useless odd act and a lack of common sense.
In the way this strange gentleman was doing things, he'd leave the world without having done any good for himself or anyone else.
An hour after leaving Bombay the train passed the viaducts and the Island of Salcette, and reached the open country.
At Callyan they found the junction of the branch line that goes south-east by Kandallah and Pounah.
Passing Pauwell, they entered the narrow mountain passes with their dark basalt bases and tops covered with thick green forests.
Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty spoke a few words from time to time.
Now Sir Francis, starting the talk again, said, "Some years ago, Mr."
"Fogg, you'd have met a delay here which would probably have lost you your wager."
"How so, Sir Francis?"
"Because the railway stopped at the foot of these mountains and passengers had to cross them in palanquins or on ponies to Kandallah on the other side."
"Such a delay wouldn't have ruined my plans in the least," said Mr. Fogg.
"I have always thought certain obstacles might happen."
"But, Mr. Fogg," continued Sir Francis.
"You risk having trouble about that fellow's adventure at the pagoda."
Passepartout, his feet wrapped in his travelling blanket, was fast asleep and didn't dream anyone spoke about him.
"The Government is very strict about that kind of crime."
"It cares that the religious customs of the Indians are respected and if your servant was caught,"
"Very well, Sir Francis," said Mr. Fogg.
"If he had been caught he'd have been judged and punished, and then would have quietly returned to Europe."
"I don't see how this could have delayed his master."
The talk stopped again, During the night the train left the mountains behind and passed Nassik.
The next day it went across the flat, well grown country of the Khandeish with its scattered villages and pagoda towers rising above them.
This rich land is watered by many small rivers and clear streams, mostly small branches of the Godavery.
When Passepartout woke and looked out he couldn't believe he was crossing India on a train.
An English engineer guided the engine, which ran on English coal.
It threw smoke over cotton, coffee, nutmeg, clove and pepper fields while steam curled around palm trees.
Among the trees were pictures of bungalows, viharis or old monasteries, and wonderful temples full of the countless decorations of Indian style.
Then they saw wide lands going to the horizon with forests where snakes and tigers lived that ran away from the noise of the train.
They also saw forests crossed by the railway yet still home to elephants which looked at the train with sad eyes as it passed.
Beyond Milligaum the travellers crossed the dangerous land so often stained with blood by the followers of the goddess Kali.
Not far off rose Ellora with its beautiful pagodas and the famous Aurungabad.
Aurungabad was home to the cruel Aureng-Zeb and is now the main town of a small province of the Nizam.
It was around there that Feringhea, the Thuggee leader, the king of stranglers, had power.
These criminals, joined by a secret bond, strangled victims of every age in honor of the goddess Death without spilling blood.
For a time this part of the country could hardly be travelled without finding corpses everywhere.
The English Government has greatly reduced these murders though the Thuggees still exist and keep their horrible rites.
At half past twelve the train stopped at Burhampoor where Passepartout could buy Indian slippers with fake pearls and put them on.
The travellers had a quick breakfast and then started on for Assurghur.
They had followed for a while the banks of the small river Tapty, which flows into the Gulf of Cambray near Surat.
Passepartout was now deep in thought.
Until he arrived at Bombay he had hoped their journey would end there.
But now that they were clearly moving fast across India, his dreams changed.
His old wandering nature came back and the wild ideas of his youth took hold of him again.
He began to see his master's plan as serious, believed in the bet, and felt the world trip must finish on time.
He began to worry about delays and accidents that could happen.
He saw himself as personally involved in the wager and feared he might have caused its loss by his unforgivable mistake of the night before.
He was much less calm than Mr. Fogg.
He became much more nervous and counted the days again and again.
He cursed when the train stopped, blamed it for being slow, and blamed Mr.
Fogg in his mind for not bribing the engineer.
Fogg in his mind for not bribing the engineer.
The good man didn't know that, while you can speed a ship that way, you can't do it on a railway.
Toward evening the train entered the passes of the Sutpour Mountains that separate the Khandeish from Bundelcund.
The next day Sir Francis Cromarty asked Passepartout what time it was.
He looked at his watch and said it was three in the morning.
This famous watch, always set to Greenwich time, which was now about seventy seven degrees west, was at least four hours slow.
Sir Francis corrected Passepartout's time, and Passepartout said the same thing he had said to Fix.
The general insisted the watch be set in each new time zone.
They were always going east, so the day was shorter by four minutes for each degree they passed.
Passepartout refused to change his watch and kept it on London time.
It was an innocent mistake that could hurt no one.
At eight o'clock the train stopped in a small open space about fifteen miles past Rothal where there were several bungalows and workmen's cabins.
The conductor walked along the carriages and shouted, "Passengers will get out here!"
Phileas Fogg looked at Sir Francis Cromarty for an answer, but the general could not say why they had stopped here.
Passepartout, no less surprised, ran out and quickly came back shouting, "Monsieur, no more railway!"
"What do you mean?" asked Sir Francis.
"I mean the train isn't going on."
The general stepped out at once and Phileas Fogg calmly followed him and they both went 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 are still about fifty miles to lay from here to Allahabad where the line starts again."
"But the papers said the railway was open all the way."
"What do you want, officer? The papers were wrong."
"Yet you sell tickets from Bombay to Calcutta," said Sir Francis who was growing angry.
"No doubt," replied the conductor, "but the passengers must find their own transport from Kholby to Allahabad."
Sir Francis was furious, Passepartout would have liked to knock the conductor down and didn't dare to look at his master.
"Sir Francis," said Mr. Fogg calmly, "we'll, if you please, look for some way to get to Allahabad."
"Mr. Fogg, this delay hurts you a lot."
"No, Sir Francis. I saw it might happen."
"What! You knew the way, "
"Not at all."
"But I knew some obstacle would sooner or later come on my route."
"So nothing is lost."
"I have two days that I already saved to give up."
"A steamer leaves Calcutta for Hong Kong at noon on the 25th."
"This is the 22nd and we'll reach Calcutta in time."
There was nothing to say to such a sure answer.
It was too true that the railway stopped here.
The papers were like watches that run too fast and had spoken too soon about the line.
Most travellers knew about this break and left the train to hire the vehicles the village could give them.
There were four wheeled palkigharis, wagons pulled by zebus, carriages that looked like moving pagodas, palanquins, ponies and more.
Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty searched the village from one end to the other and came back with nothing.
"I'll go on foot," said Phileas Fogg.
Passepartout, who was now with his master, made a face as he thought of his fine but weak Indian shoes.
Luckily he had been looking around and after a moment said, "Monsieur, I think I have found a way to travel."
"What?"
"An elephant! An elephant that belongs to an Indian who lives only a hundred steps from here."
"Let's go and see the elephant," said Mr. Fogg.
They soon reached a small hut near which, inside high fences, stood the animal.
An Indian came out of the hut and, at their request, led them inside.
The elephant, which its owner had raised not as a work animal but for war, was partly trained.
The Indian often teased him and fed him sugar and butter every three months, which made him more fierce.
This is a method often used by those who train Indian elephants for battle.
Happily for Mr. Fogg the training hadn't gone far and the elephant kept his natural softness.
Kiouni was the name of the beast and could surely travel fast for a long time.
Lacking any other transport, Mr. Fogg decided to hire him.
But elephants aren't cheap in India where they're rare.
The males, which are right for shows, are wanted and few are tamed.
When Mr. Fogg asked to hire Kiouni the Indian refused at once.
Mr. Fogg kept asking and offered the large sum of ten pounds an hour to take the elephant to Allahabad.
Refused, Twenty pounds? Refused too, Forty pounds?
Still no, Passepartout jumped up at each higher offer but the Indian wouldn't be tempted.
The offer was tempting because if the elephant took fifteen hours to reach Allahabad his owner would get six hundred pounds.
Phileas Fogg, without any hurry, then offered to buy the animal and first offered a thousand pounds.
The Indian, thinking he'd get a great deal, still refused.
Sir Francis Cromarty took Mr. Fogg aside and asked him to think before he went on.
Mr. Fogg answered that he didn't act without thought.
He said a bet of twenty thousand pounds was at stake and that the elephant was needed.
He declared he'd get the elephant even if he had to pay twenty times his value.
They went back to the Indian whose small bright eyes showed he only thought of how much he could get.
Mr. Fogg offered first twelve hundred then fifteen hundred then eighteen hundred and two thousand pounds.
Passepartout who was usually so red grew quite white with worry.
At two thousand pounds the Indian agreed.
"What a price, good heavens!" cried Passepartout, "for an elephant."
Now they needed a guide which was easy to find.
A young Parsee with a sharp face offered to help, and Mr. Fogg accepted, promising him generous pay, which made him eager.
The elephant was led out and prepared.
The Parsee who was a skilled driver put a kind of saddle cloth on his back and fixed strange uncomfortable howdahs on each side.
Phileas Fogg paid the Indian with banknotes from the famous carpet bag, and act seemed to take the life out of Passepartout.
Then he offered to take Sir Francis to Allahabad which the brigadier gladly accepted since one more traveller wouldn't tire the huge beast.
At Kholby they bought food, and Sir Francis and Mr. Fogg took howdahs while Passepartout sat on the saddle cloth.
The Parsee sat on the elephant's neck and at nine they left the village, the animal moving through thick palm forest.