OK Monday Wednesday April 15 13 15, 1929 Monday, April 15, 1929
Frank and I sent off several packages and letters after much time and expense, while Mort did the packing. About 4 Mort took the luggage to the station and met us at the restaurant. By seven we were rolling out of the station. Europeans are allowed a private compartment in third—at least on some lines. Thus we three had a whole compartment for 50 for ourselves except for two Anglo-Indians who are also allowed in. The rest of the train was crowded. On one car the natives were all squatted about a fire, cooking. Women have special compartments and the picture of a veiled lady is painted on the car outside. Trains are very long and go like the devil.
From Karachi we started across a low, sandy plain, interspersed with what might be called low hills. It is wild and mostly uninhabited. In some of the hills are found bear, panthers, etc. and jackals along the cactus and sage-brush. Several miles from Karachi we passed its airport and dirigible hangar. Last Saturday the first air mail flew from here to London, a 12-day trip, saving 10 days.
Some time about midnight we crossed the Indus River and a few minutes later pulled into Hyderabad, Jhind (or Sind). Frank parked over the baggage while Mort and I tried to find a hotel in town, but n.g. Consequently, we parked on two benches and the suitcases for the night. Mort got all settled when a dog came up and licked his face. A detective came around after our names, addresses, etc., but didn’t have much success. He was native, but the way these British try to heap it on and act the “gros dos” is a pain, and we take them down a few pegs when the chance offers. They are absolutely rude in this perverted trance of imagined dignity and self-esteem with which they flatter themselves.
Miles to the north is one of the greatest grain belts of the world. In August, September, and October the railroad cannot handle the enormous quantities of corn and wheat that await shipment to Karachi and the world.
This Sind Desert stretches for hundreds of miles, a flat, sun-baked plain. Hyderabad is like a raging furnace in the daytime, but gets cool at night. The port is a large affair with high brick walls. Some years ago an explosion occurred there that wrecked the inside and it is no longer in use. The town is over 81,000. [1,578,367 in 2010]