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Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, or the Central and Western Rajput States of India v2.c27.s7.t5.44

Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, or the Central and Western Rajput States of India v2.c27.s7.t5.44

Language
English

v2.c27.s7.t5.44

The difference then between the mirage and the siya-kot is, that the former exhibits a horizontal, the latter a columnar or vertical stratification; and in the latter case, likewise, a contrast to the other, its maximum of translucency is the last stage of its existence. In this stage, it is only an eye accustomed to the phenomenon that can perceive it at all. I have passed over the plains of Meerut with a friend who had been thirty years in India, and he did not observe a *siya-kot* then before our eyes: in fact so complete was the illusion, that we only saw the town and fort considerably nearer. Monge gives a philosophical account of this phenomenon in Napoleon’s campaign in Egypt; and Dr. Clarke perfectly describes it in his journey to Rosetta, when “domes, turrets, and groves were seen reflected on the glowing surface of the plain, which appeared like a vast lake extending itself between the city and travellers.” It is on reviewing this account that a critic has corrected the erroneous translation of the Septuagint; and further dilated upon it in a review of Lichtenstein’s travels in Southern Africa,¹ who exactly describes our *siya-kot*, of the magnifying and reflecting powers of which he gives a [770] singular instance. Indeed, whoever notices, while at sea, the atmospheric phenomena of these southern latitudes, will be struck by the deformity of objects as they pass through this medium: what the sailors term a fog-bank is the first stage of our *siya-kot*. I observed it on my voyage home; but more especially in the passage out. About six o’clock on a dark evening, while we were dancing on the waste, I perceived a ship bearing down with full sail upon us so distinctly, that I gave the alarm, in expectation of a collision; so far as I recollect, the helm was instantly up, and in a second no ship was to be seen. The laugh was against me—I had seen the “flying Dutchman,”² according to the opinion of the experienced officer on deck; and I believed it was really a vision of the mind: but I now feel convinced it was either the reflection of our own ship in a passing cloud of this vapour, or a more distant object therein refracted. But enough of this subject: I will only add, whoever has a desire to see one of the grandest phenomena in nature, let him repair to the plains of Merta or Hissar, and watch before the sun rises the fairy palace of Harchand, infinitely grander and more imposing than a sunrise upon the alpine Helvetia, which alone may compete with the chitram of the desert.