of which languages use the old Sanscrit character. In the North-west, however, where the Mahommedan population is very large, Persian is very commonly spoken, and its character is more generally understood than any other.

I was much struck with the beauty of the birds in India. There are many varieties, the more common kinds being the parrot and dove; but birds of the most remarkable shapes, with high crests, lyre-tails, and other peculiarities, that I have elsewhere met with only in ornithological collections, are constantly seen; others again have plumage the colour of every precious stone, and nearly as brilliant in the bright sunlight. The glare of the sun in India is something wonderful. It really seemed as if the ground and everything around me were a mirror. Although it was now winter, freezing every night, and quite cold enough during the day to make a flannel suit comfortable, yet a turban around the hat and an umbrella were indispensable accessories to a walking costume.

A remarkable characteristic of the birds in India is their tameness. The little birds fly into the house without the least suspicion of intruding, and the crows, of which there are immense numbers, will do the same thing, particularly during meal-time. They may often be seen riding about on the backs or horns of buffaloes, bullocks or goats. In fact, the utmost harmony seems to prevail between the different orders of the brute creation, and they have apparently no fear of man. Monkeys, foxes, jackals, deer and vultures will all watch with interest the traveller who passes within a few rods, but do not show any alarm. The reason, I suppose is, that so very few of the inhabitants ever hunt.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE HIMALAYAS.

A Night in a Dhoolce-The Turai Forest-First View of the Snowy Range-Siwalik Hills-Ram! Ram!-The Dhoon Valley-Rajpoor-Ascent of the Himalayas-Puharrees-Munsooree-Indian Hospitality-Landoor-View of Snow-clad PeaksHill-stations-An Accident-The Descent-Agriculture in India-Tea PlantationChinese Workmen-A Snake Fight.

My first night in a dhoolee was rather uncomfortable. The road lay through the Turai forest, a belt of woodland running parallel to the Himalayas. This forest has a particularly bad reputation for jungul fever-an intermittent in its worst form, with a tendency to typhoid. In the hot season it is dangerous. to pass through it even by day; the cold weather, while it diminishes the danger, does not make it entirely safe, especially for night travelling. Beside the fever, the Turai is full of elephants and tigers; and though I cannot say that I was at all afraid of them, as I knew wild animals to have more fear of man than he has of them, yet the fever and the tigers, added to the great and positive discomforts of my conveyance, made the night's sleep rather broken.

When I awoke the next morning, we had almost passed the limits of the forest. The trees do not grow very thickly, but are of large size-some of them entirely covered with creepers, and others bearing beautiful flowers. There were also several banyans, the first which I had seen since leaving Bengal. The ground between the trees was covered with tall jungul grass.

I did not have the good fortune to see any of the elephants, tigers or leopards, which are said to abound-but there were plenty of monkeys in the trees. The leopards (cheetas), are frequently tamed, or rather trained, and used instead of

hounds in deer-hunting; which is said to make the sport more exciting.

After passing the forest, we arrived, about ten o'clock, in a valley from which I had my first view of the Himalayas-a range of mountain monarchs, sitting in state, looking over the broad plains of Hindoostan; covered, as to their heads, with turbans of clouds, as becomes sovereigns of the Orient. One snowy face alone, of a Jungfrau of the East, was visible, and she, as an Eastern maiden should, soon shrouded her countenance and was seen of me no more.

Crossing the valley, we had to pass the Siwalik hills, a low range, before entering the valley of the Dhoon, which divides them from the Himalayas. The pass through the hills was certainly not grand, but picturesque to one who had seen so little mountain scenery for a year; and had been travelling for a thousand miles over a succession of desert plains, as level as a bowling alley. The pass was about three hundred feet wide, its bottom was the rocky bed of a mountain torrent which had now almost disappeared; its sides were steep, from one to three hundred feet high, looking like the sections of hills in geological works.

All the natives whom we met on the road, gave the bearers the Hindoo salutation, Ram! Ram!-which I had not heard before, probably on account of having always travelled in a gárrhee. This Hindoo salutation is only used to a Hindoo. To a Moosulman, or a Christian, the Hindoo uses the Moosulman salám-an obeisance which is, I suspect, very much what the Greeks meant by προςκυνεῖν. All the polite forms of speech by which a superior is addressed, as "Ap"-"your Honour;" "Bundugee"-"releaser of slaves;" and "GurreebParwar"-"provider for the poor," were introduced by the servile Mahommedans, but are now universally employed in Northern India. The latter title is the usual one in the northwestern provinces, and it is with respect to it that Bishop Heber made the mistake of supposing that he had earned it by his attention to the wants of his dependents.

After passing the Siwalik hills, we entered the valley of the Dhoon, about twenty miles broad, beyond which rose the

Himalayas. Being well watered, and protected by the two ranges of hills, it is very fertile, and I saw palm-trees and plantains in abundance. About half-way across the valley we changed bearers at the village of Dehra, which was the best looking place of its size that I had seen in India. The houses, though low and small, were constructed of pukka, instead of mud. They were generally whitewashed, and some of them decorated with gaudy pictures of nach-girls, or mythological designs. It was high market when we passed through the bazár, and as I noticed most of the people munching sugar-cane, I determined to do so likewise, having eaten nothing for over twenty hours, and found it very cool and refreshing.

About four in the afternoon I arrived at Rajpoor, a small village immediately at the foot of "the Hills," as the Himalayas are always called in Northern India. The hotel being very comfortable, I put up there for the night, as I was very tired, hungry and dusty.

Rajpoor is over three thousand feet above the level of the sea, and the summit of the first range about six thousand.

The next morning I ascended this on horseback. The mountains rise almost perpendicularly from the plain, and although the path is constructed with much engineering skill, I found the ascent so steep, from the very commencement, that I dismounted and walked most of the way, fearing that my weight was too great for the little pony I had hired. The sides of the hill were covered with low trees. The road wound around the vast, narrow gullies which are the distinguishing feature of Himalayan scenery. They make a sharp, deep cut into the mountain range, and are apparently so narrow that you almost fancy you could throw a stone across. Should you be so deceived by the vastness of everything around as to make the attempt, your missile, if propelled by a vigourous arm, will lodge, a thousand feet below, on the precipitous side of the chasm.

On the way up we passed many Puharrees, or hill men, carrying burdens slung on the back. They are a small, light, but strong and agile race. Their dress is a shirt and trowsers

of coarse brown woollen stuff, girt with a rope, and they wear woollen caps instead of pugrees. They are not so cleanly as the inhabitants of the plains-indeed, they are suspected of never taking off their clothes until no longer serviceable. Their religion is a very low form of idolatry, and they have no caste. They make excellent servants, as they will do any kind of work, and are considered thoroughly honest. I noticed by the side of the path several bushes decorated with rags, to show that they are esteemed sacred on account of some god's having, when wearied, sat down under a bush of the same kind. There was also a black stone which the hillpeople stopped to worship, each "leaning on the top of his staff" like Jacob.

Munsooree is on the crest of a spur which puts out from the main ridge, and is a little lower and more sheltered than Landoor, which is on the very summit. They are both places of several miles in extent, and consist of one-storied bungalows scattered about on the steep side of the mountain.

On arriving at Munsooree I found, to my dismay, the only hotel closed. Not having any letters to a resident I began to fear that I should have to return the same evening to the plains. Fortunately, however, I went in my despair to the club-house, the khansáhman of which, although he refused to do anything for me, recommended me to apply to Mr. Scott, a merchant. That gentleman received me with the greatest kindness and hospitality, offered me the use of an unoccupied bungalow, and invited me to take my meals with his familyand this without knowing anything about me except that I had no other quarters.

Indian hospitality is proverbial, and deservedly so. Any gentleman who finds himself without acquaintances in a place where no public accommodations are provided by government, need only apply at the magistrate's house, where he will meet with the readiest and most liberal welcome, and receive any assistance he may require.

Soon after arriving at Munsooree, I went with Mr. Scott up to Landoor. The ascent is about five hundred feet. We rode for several miles on an excellent road, around the summit of