Finally, pass a bamboo pole immediately under the roof, so that it shall project four feet fore and aft. A palkee is the same in principle, but made of wood and heavier. I had eight bearers, who relieved one another several times in a quarter of a mile-four carrying the dhoolee at once, the bamboo pole resting on their shoulders. One of the disengaged bearers carried a torch at night. Had I been in a palkee I should have had two torch-bearers to do nothing else. The stages were about ten miles long, and the work cannot be very fatiguing, as in one instance, when the fresh bearers had not arrived at the Chokee, the old bearers took me on with undiminished speed. The great annoyance in this kind of travelling is the moaning and grunting of the kuhars (bearers), sometimes dignified as their song; and a custom they have of waking you up at night for their bucksees, which is four anas, or twelve cents, for the ten men. This gives each man a little over a cent, which is considered a liberal gratuity. After all, this annoyance is not greater than that of being constantly waked up to pay tolls, when travelling by gárrhee. The worst trouble of all was the dust, which was almost insufferable. It lay five inches deep on the road, and the four extra bearers and banghee-burdar kept kicking it up. My sufferings were aggravated by being in a dhoolee, which hangs within eighteen inches of the ground. A palkee, being differently swung, is nearly a foot higher.

To give an idea of caste prejudice, I may mention here that in some parts of India, the same men that carry a palkee, will not carry a dhoolee; while in no part of the country will either of them carry a burden on the head or back. On the other hand, coolees can only, or will only, carry a burden on the head. The Puharrees, or inhabitants of the Himalayas, carry burdens on the back, shoulder, or head indifferently. My luggage was all contained in two small portmanteaus, which were slung one at each end of a bamboo pole and carried by a man called the banghee-burdar.

After leaving Meeruth, I noticed that the inscriptions on the milestones were in the Persian character. In Bengal they are in the Bengalee, and further up country in Hindee-both

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 Dhoolee-The Tural 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 πроçкνVeiv. 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, hut strong and agile race. Their dress is a shirt and trowsers