During the hot season and rains of 1858 I suffered greatly from boils and feverishness. After applying in vain the usual means of cure prescribed, I was advised to try a sea voyage. I accordingly arranged to go down the Bay of Bengal to Point de Galle in Ceylon, and to await there the arrival of my wife from England, so as to return with her to India.
The rebellion still flickered in Bahar. A part of the road to Calcutta was in the hand of Kower Singh, a rebel chief; and travellers like myself to the capital from the North-West were on that account happy to avail themselves of the river steamers. We had the clear sky and the gentle breeze of that delightful season in Northern India. From morning to night we sat under a thick awning, reading or talking, as we were inclined, refreshed by the breeze, and interested in the various objects presented to our view on the river and its banks. The fortnight of the voyage passed most pleasantly, and I arrived in Calcutta half cured of my ailments. I was happy to find myself in time for the outgoing steamer of the P. and O. Company, on which I took passage to Point de Galle. On landing I saw the last newspaper received from England with the list of passengers for successive steamers, and from it I learned that my wife was to come a month later than I had anticipated. This left me with five or six weeks in Ceylon to dispose of myself as I best could. I made up my mind to travel through the island. I accordingly left Galle by coach the next day for Colombo, the capital. After staying there a few days I set out for Kandy, the old capital; held on to Newera Ellia, the sanatorium of the island, lying under Pedro Talla Galla, its highest mountain; ascended the mountain, made my way back by another route to Kandy, and then proceeded to Galle, where I was happy to meet my wife and child, with whom I went on to Calcutta.
When I landed at Galle I was not aware that I knew a single individual in the island, but I was not an hour at the hotel to which I went before I found myself in company with a medical gentleman, a native of Perthshire, who knew my friends; and on my arrival at Colombo I was recognized on the street, by my resemblance to my father, by a person who had never seen me previously, but who knew him. It struck me it would be dangerous for me to attempt an incognito, which, happily, I had no temptation to do. During my travels in Ceylon I met several from the North of Scotland whom I had known intimately, and among them one who had been for years my schoolfellow. My countrymen were there, as elsewhere, prominent members of the community.