XI. In which Phileas Fogg Secures a Curious Means of Conveyance at a Fabulous Price

by Jules Verne

　　The train had started punctually. Among the passengers werea number of officers, Government officials, and opium and indigomerchants, whose business called them to the eastern coast.Passepartout rode in the same carriage with his master, and athird passenger occupied a seat opposite to them. This wasSir Francis Cromarty, one of Mr. Fogg's whist partnerson the Mongolia, now on his way to join his corps at Benares.Sir Francis was a tall, fair man of fifty, who had greatlydistinguished himself in the last Sepoy revolt. He made Indiahis home, only paying brief visits to England at rare intervals;and was almost as familiar as a native with the customs, history,and character of India and its people. But Phileas Fogg, who wasnot travelling, but only describing a circumference, took no painsto inquire into these subjects; he was a solid body, traversingan orbit around the terrestrial globe, according to the lawsof rational mechanics. He was at this moment calculating in his mindthe number of hours spent since his departure from London, and,had it been in his nature to make a useless demonstration,would have rubbed his hands for satisfaction. Sir Francis Cromartyhad observed the oddity of his travelling companion--although theonly opportunity he had for studying him had been while he wasdealing the cards, and between two rubbers--and questioned himselfwhether a human heart really beat beneath this cold exterior,and whether Phileas Fogg had any sense of the beauties of nature.The brigadier-general was free to mentally confess that,of all the eccentric persons he had ever met, none was comparableto this product of the exact sciences.Phileas Fogg had not concealed from Sir Francis his design of goinground the world, nor the circumstances under which he set out;and the general only saw in the wager a useless eccentricityand a lack of sound common sense. In the way this strange gentlemanwas going on, he would leave the world without having done any goodto himself or anybody else.An hour after leaving Bombay the train had passed the viaductsand the Island of Salcette, and had got into the open country.At Callyan they reached the junction of the branch line whichdescends towards south-eastern India by Kandallah and Pounah;and, passing Pauwell, they entered the defiles of the mountains,with their basalt bases, and their summits crowned with thickand verdant forests. Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty exchangeda few words from time to time, and now Sir Francis, reviving the conversation,observed, "Some years ago, Mr. Fogg, you would have met with a delayat this point which would probably have lost you your wager.""How so, Sir Francis?""Because the railway stopped at the base of these mountains,which the passengers were obliged to cross in palanquinsor on ponies to Kandallah, on the other side.""Such a delay would not have deranged my plans in the least,"said Mr. Fogg. "I have constantly foreseen the likelihood ofcertain obstacles.""But, Mr. Fogg," pursued Sir Francis, "you run the risk ofhaving some difficulty about this worthy fellow's adventureat the pagoda." Passepartout, his feet comfortably wrappedin his travelling-blanket, was sound asleep and did not dreamthat anybody was talking about him. "The Government is very severeupon that kind of offence. It takes particular care that thereligious customs of the Indians should be respected,and if your servant were caught--""Very well, Sir Francis," replied Mr. Fogg; "if he had beencaught he would have been condemned and punished, and then wouldhave quietly returned to Europe. I don't see how this affaircould have delayed his master."The conversation fell again. During the night the train leftthe mountains behind, and passed Nassik, and the next dayproceeded over the flat, well-cultivated country of the Khandeish,with its straggling villages, above which rose the minaretsof the pagodas. This fertile territory is watered by numeroussmall rivers and limpid streams, mostly tributaries of the Godavery.Passepartout, on waking and looking out, could not realisethat he was actually crossing India in a railway train.The locomotive, guided by an English engineer and fed with Englishcoal, threw out its smoke upon cotton, coffee, nutmeg, clove,and pepper plantations, while the steam curled in spirals aroundgroups of palm-trees, in the midst of which were seen picturesquebungalows, viharis (sort of abandoned monasteries), and marvelloustemples enriched by the exhaustless ornamentation of Indian architecture.Then they came upon vast tracts extending to the horizon, with junglesinhabited by snakes and tigers, which fled at the noise of the train;succeeded by forests penetrated by the railway, and still hauntedby elephants which, with pensive eyes, gazed at the train as it passed.The travellers crossed, beyond Milligaum, the fatal country so oftenstained with blood by the sectaries of the goddess Kali. Not far offrose Ellora, with its graceful pagodas, and the famous Aurungabad,capital of the ferocious Aureng-Zeb, now the chief town of one of thedetached provinces of the kingdom of the Nizam. It was thereaboutsthat Feringhea, the Thuggee chief, king of the stranglers, held his sway.These ruffians, united by a secret bond, strangled victims of every agein honour of the goddess Death, without ever shedding blood; there wasa period when this part of the country could scarcely be travelled overwithout corpses being found in every direction. The English Governmenthas succeeded in greatly diminishing these murders, though the Thuggeesstill exist, and pursue the exercise of their horrible rites.At half-past twelve the train stopped at Burhampoor wherePassepartout was able to purchase some Indian slippers,ornamented with false pearls, in which, with evident vanity,he proceeded to encase his feet. The travellers made a hasty breakfastand started off for Assurghur, after skirting for a little the banksof the small river Tapty, which empties into the Gulf of Cambray, near Surat.Passepartout was now plunged into absorbing reverie. Up tohis arrival at Bombay, he had entertained hopes that their journeywould end there; but, now that they were plainly whirling acrossIndia at full speed, a sudden change had come over the spirit ofhis dreams. His old vagabond nature returned to him; the fantasticideas of his youth once more took possession of him. He came to regardhis master's project as intended in good earnest, believed in the realityof the bet, and therefore in the tour of the world and the necessityof making it without fail within the designated period. Already he beganto worry about possible delays, and accidents which might happen on the way.He recognised himself as being personally interested in the wager,and trembled at the thought that he might have been the means of losing itby his unpardonable folly of the night before. Being much less cool-headedthan Mr. Fogg, he was much more restless, counting and recounting thedays passed over, uttering maledictions when the train stopped,and accusing it of sluggishness, and mentally blaming Mr. Foggfor not having bribed the engineer. The worthy fellow was ignorant that,while it was possible by such means to hasten the rate of a steamer,it could not be done on the railway.The train entered the defiles of the Sutpour Mountains, which separatethe Khandeish from Bundelcund, towards evening. The next day Sir FrancisCromarty asked Passepartout what time it was; to which, on consultinghis watch, he replied that it was three in the morning. This famous timepiece,always regulated on the Greenwich meridian, which was now some seventy-sevendegrees westward, was at least four hours slow. Sir Francis correctedPassepartout's time, whereupon the latter made the same remark that he haddone to Fix; and upon the general insisting that the watch should beregulated in each new meridian, since he was constantly going eastward,that is in the face of the sun, and therefore the days were shorterby four minutes for each degree gone over, Passepartout obstinately refusedto alter his watch, which he kept at London time. It was an innocent delusionwhich could harm no one.The train stopped, at eight o'clock, in the midst of a glade somefifteen miles beyond Rothal, where there were several bungalows,and workmen's cabins. The conductor, passing along the carriages,shouted, "Passengers will get out here!"Phileas Fogg looked at Sir Francis Cromarty for an explanation;but the general could not tell what meant a halt in the midstof this forest of dates and acacias.Passepartout, not less surprised, rushed out and speedily returned, crying:"Monsieur, no more railway!""What do you mean?" asked Sir Francis."I mean to say that the train isn't going on."The general at once stepped out, while Phileas Fogg calmly followed him,and they proceeded together 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's still a matter of fifty miles to be laidfrom here to Allahabad, where the line begins again.""But the papers announced the opening of the railway throughout.""What would you have, officer? The papers were mistaken.""Yet you sell tickets from Bombay to Calcutta," retorted Sir Francis,who was growing warm."No doubt," replied the conductor; "but the passengers knowthat they must provide means of transportation for themselvesfrom Kholby to Allahabad."Sir Francis was furious. Passepartout would willingly have knockedthe conductor down, and did not dare to look at his master."Sir Francis," said Mr. Fogg quietly, "we will, if you please,look about for some means of conveyance to Allahabad.""Mr. Fogg, this is a delay greatly to your disadvantage.""No, Sir Francis; it was foreseen.""What! You knew that the way--""Not at all; but I knew that some obstacle or other would sooner or laterarise on my route. Nothing, therefore, is lost. I have two days,which I have already gained, to sacrifice. A steamer leaves Calcuttafor Hong Kong at noon, on the 25th. This is the 22nd, and we shallreach Calcutta in time."There was nothing to say to so confident a response.It was but too true that the railway came to a termination at this point.The papers were like some watches, which have a way of getting too fast,and had been premature in their announcement of the completion of the line.The greater part of the travellers were aware of this interruption, and,leaving the train, they began to engage such vehicles as the villagecould provide four-wheeled palkigharis, waggons drawn by zebus,carriages that looked like perambulating pagodas, palanquins, ponies,and what not.Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty, after searching the villagefrom end to end, came back without having found anything."I shall go afoot," said Phileas Fogg.Passepartout, who had now rejoined his master, made a wry grimace,as he thought of his magnificent, but too frail Indian shoes.Happily he too had been looking about him, and, after a moment's hesitation,said, "Monsieur, I think I have found a means of conveyance.""What?""An elephant! An elephant that belongs to an Indian who livesbut a hundred steps from here.""Let's go and see the elephant," replied Mr. Fogg.They soon reached a small hut, near which, enclosed withinsome high palings, was the animal in question. An Indian cameout of the hut, and, at their request, conducted them withinthe enclosure. The elephant, which its owner had reared, not fora beast of burden, but for warlike purposes, was half domesticated.The Indian had begun already, by often irritating him, and feedinghim every three months on sugar and butter, to impart to hima ferocity not in his nature, this method being often employedby those who train the Indian elephants for battle. Happily,however, for Mr. Fogg, the animal's instruction in this directionhad not gone far, and the elephant still preserved his naturalgentleness. Kiouni--this was the name of the beast--coulddoubtless travel rapidly for a long time, and, in default ofany other means of conveyance, Mr. Fogg resolved to hire him.But elephants are far from cheap in India, where they are becomingscarce, the males, which alone are suitable for circus shows,are much sought, especially as but few of them are domesticated.When therefore Mr. Fogg proposed to the Indian to hire Kiouni,he refused point-blank. Mr. Fogg persisted, offering the excessivesum of ten pounds an hour for the loan of the beast to Allahabad.Refused. Twenty pounds? Refused also. Forty pounds? Still refused.Passepartout jumped at each advance; but the Indian declined to be tempted.Yet the offer was an alluring one, for, supposing it took the elephantfifteen hours to reach Allahabad, his owner would receive no less thansix hundred pounds sterling.Phileas Fogg, without getting in the least flurried, then proposedto purchase the animal outright, and at first offered a thousand poundsfor him. The Indian, perhaps thinking he was going to make a great bargain,still refused.Sir Francis Cromarty took Mr. Fogg aside, and begged him to reflectbefore he went any further; to which that gentleman replied thathe was not in the habit of acting rashly, that a bet of twenty thousandpounds was at stake, that the elephant was absolutely necessary to him,and that he would secure him if he had to pay twenty times his value.Returning to the Indian, whose small, sharp eyes, glistening with avarice,betrayed that with him it was only a question of how great a pricehe could obtain. Mr. Fogg offered first twelve hundred, then fifteen hundred,eighteen hundred, two thousand pounds. Passepartout, usually so rubicund,was fairly white with suspense.At two thousand pounds the Indian yielded."What a price, good heavens!" cried Passepartout, "for an elephant.It only remained now to find a guide, which was comparatively easy.A young Parsee, with an intelligent face, offered his services,which Mr. Fogg accepted, promising so generous a reward as to materiallystimulate his zeal. The elephant was led out and equipped. The Parsee,who was an accomplished elephant driver, covered his back with a sortof saddle-cloth, and attached to each of his flanks some curiouslyuncomfortable howdahs. Phileas Fogg paid the Indian with some banknoteswhich he extracted from the famous carpet-bag, a proceeding that seemedto deprive poor Passepartout of his vitals. Then he offered to carrySir Francis to Allahabad, which the brigadier gratefully accepted,as one traveller the more would not be likely to fatigue thegigantic beast. Provisions were purchased at Kholby, and,while Sir Francis and Mr. Fogg took the howdahs on either side,Passepartout got astride the saddle-cloth between them.The Parsee perched himself on the elephant's neck, and at nine o'clockthey set out from the village, the animal marching off through thedense forest of palms by the shortest cut.