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A Journey to Katmandu - (the Capital of Napaul), with The Camp of Jung Bahadoor; - including A Sketch of the Nepaulese Ambassador at Home by Laurence Oliphant
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remain standing for any length of time. It took us two hours to cross
the Soan, which we forded or ferried according as the streams between the
sand-banks were deep or shallow. This large river is at times flooded to
so great an extent that it is one of the most serious obstructions to the
railway.

It was not until the morning of the seventh day after leaving Calcutta
that we found ourselves on the banks of the Ganges. The Holy City loomed
large in the grey dawn of morning, with its tapering minarets barely
discernible above it, looking like elongated ghosts.

We were ferried across in a boat of antique construction, better suited
for any other purpose than the one to which it was applied, and landed in
the midst of the ruins caused by the dreadful explosion of gun-powder
that had taken place the previous year: it had occasioned a fearful
destruction of property and loss of life, and many hairbreadth escapes
were recounted to us. We were told, indeed, that two children, after
being buried for five days, were dug out alive; two officers were blown
out of the window of an hotel, one of whom was uninjured, the other was
only wounded by a splinter, whilst the Kitmutgar, who was drawing a cork
close to them at the time, was killed on the spot.

In the course of an hour after leaving this scene of desolation we
reached the hospitable mansion which was destined to be our home during
our short stay in Benares.




CHAPTER II.
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