The ascent of the great Bore Ghât was to me a most thrilling and impressive experience. How we went up, up, up, and how we went down, down, down! What dizzy views of the plains as we crept along precipices and turned the most paralysing angles! Finally, after steady travelling by rail and tonga, we found ourselves at our journey's end--the hill station of Silliram.
It was pouring the traditional "cats and dogs" when we arrived, and here Captain Hayes-Billington awaited us at the tonga office, his broad, good-looking face wet with rain and wreathed in smiles.
It appeared that he had secured a small bungalow, collected a few servants, and done, he declared, "his best to give us a flying start." The bungalow, which was named "The Dovecot," was old and dilapidated, surrounded by a deep veranda and a small garden or compound which separated us from a high road, at present swimming in mud. Accommodation in "The Dovecot" consisted of four rooms, viz. drawing-room, dining-room and two bedrooms, to each of which was attached a ruinous bathroom; for tub, a half barrel of primitive age. The smaller of the bedrooms was naturally apportioned to me, and here, with the aid of an English-speaking ayah, I began to unpack my small baggage and endeavoured to make myself at home. Coming across from Aden I had learnt the true meaning of the word "monsoon." Arriving in Silliram, I received a practical illustration of the word "rains!"
It was not merely rain, but a cataract that battered on the roof, roared down the gutters and made large ponds in our little compound. Silliram was situated on a spur of the ghâts about 4,000 feet above the plains, but for the moment one could see nothing of the place. The atmosphere appeared to consist entirely of a wet white mist; the roads were ankle deep in red mud, the valleys filled with masses of what looked like cotton-wool clouds. Europeans on ponies and disguised in mackintoshes occasionally splashed by our gate, and the natives went about with long bare legs, the remainder of their persons entirely shrouded in brown blankets.
It was now that I began to see the best side of Captain Hayes-Billington. Always loud and boisterous, he was nevertheless wonderfully good-tempered, cheerful and considerate, and eagerly disposed to make the best of everything. He was also surprisingly energetic, and helped his wife and myself to furbish up our shabby little bungalow. I gathered that we might soon expect a number of visitors, but that it was our business, being the last comers, to sally forth and call upon the station.