Bangalore

Outside the hotel in Bangalore sat an Indian snake-charmer, ready to put on his show for anyone emerging from the hotel on foot. He was imposingly robed and turbaned, and his eyes twinkled with good humour in his brown wrinkled face. Though old, he was probably younger and certainly fitter than his ancient, toothless cobra which swayed languidly to the wailing music.  The liveliest member of the act was a young mongoose.  The Indian was training it to attack the snake, but its baby jaws could not have grasped the cobra's neck and so the fakir was inciting the mongoose to attack the slender tail.

It was tackling this in fine style until the cobra, resenting the impertinence, turned and hissed fiercely in the mongoose's face, at which it leapt backwards three feet and scuttled behind the fakir.

The rest of the show included fire-eating, conjuring, posing for photographs, sale of souvenirs and a collection. I bought a snake-stone, which is a piece of wood the size of a florin, polished apart from a small section where the highly absorbent grain is exposed. If pressed on to a snake bite it will, said the fakir, extract the last traces of venom and he had letters from eminent surgeons in such places as Heidelberg and Belfast testifying to the value of these snake stones.

Bangalore, over 3,000 feet high, is pleasantly cool and peaceful after the heat and turmoil of Bombay. My room was not air-conditioned but had a fan mounted in the ceiling, near a large hook, conveniently placed for any guest wishing to hang himself. My bed was equipped with a mosquito-net which I shared both night's with a few mosquitoes. During the day I was taken to my appointments by a young Sikh, who drove as though at the wheel of a racing car. Slumped in a racing crouch, with his head tied up in a turban and beard like a pudding ready for the pot, he hurled the car about in fine style. Because of this, I spent my time clinging to fixtures to avoid being thrown around the car and was too preoccupied to see much of the city.

I was intrigued, however, by the number of wild monkeys to be seen even within the city and could not rid myself of a feeling that someone would shortly round them all up and put them back in cages.