the guest of Major Lang, the very able Principal of the Engineering College, who had formerly been engaged in the construction of "the great Hindústhan and Tibet Road," which runs from Simla towards Chinese Tartary; and any doubts as to where I was bound for were soon entirely dissipated by the Principal's descriptions of Chini and Pangay, the Indian Kailas, and the Parang La. He warned me, indeed, not to attempt Chinese Tibet, lest the fate of the unfortunate Adolph Schlagintweit might befall me, and a paragraph should appear in the Indian papers announcing that a native traveller from Gartok had observed a head adorning the pole of a Tartar's tent, which head, there was only too much reason to fear from his description of it, must have been that of the enterprising traveller who lately penetrated into Chinese Tibet by way of Shipki. But then it was not necessary to cross the border in order to see Chini and the Kailas; and even his children kindled with enthusiastic delight as they cried out "Pangay! Pangay!"

As the greatest mela or religious fair of the Hindus was being held at this time at Hardwar (Hurdwar), where the Ganges is supposed to issue from the Himáliya, I went over there to see that extraordinary scene, and was fortunate enough to hit upon the auspicious day for bathing. That also I must leave undescribed at present, and proceed in a dooly from Hardwar, along a junglepath through the Terai to the Dehra Doon and Masúri. This was my first experience of the Himáliya. In vain had I strained my eyes to catch a glimpse of their snowy summits through the golden haze which filled the hot air. Though visible from Rúrki, and many other places in the plains at certain seasons, they are not so in April; but here, at least, was the outermost circle of them-the Terai, or literally, the "wet land," the " belt of death."

the thick jungle swarming with wild beasts, which runs along their southern base. It is not quite so thick or so deadly here between the Ganges and the Jumna, as it is farther to the east, on the other side of the former river, and all the way from the Ganges to the Brahmapútra, constituting, I suppose, the longest as well as the deadliest strip of jungle-forest in the world. The greater cold in winter in this north-western portion, and its greater distance from the main range, prevent its trees attaining quite such proportions as they do farther east; but still it has sufficient heat and moisture, and sufficiently little circulation of air, to make it even here a suffocating hothouse, into which the wind does not penetrate to dissipate the moisture transpired by the vegetation; and where, besides the most gigantic Indian trees and plants—as the sissoo, the saul tree, with its shining leaves and thick clusters of flowers, and the most extraordinary interlacing of enormous creeperswe have, strange to say, a number of trees and other plants properly belonging to far-distant and intensely tropical parts of the earth, such as the Cassia elata of Burmah, the Marlea begoniafolia of Java, the Duringia celosiocides of Papua, and the Nerium odorum of Africa. This natural conservatory is a special haunt for wild. animals, and for enormous snakes, such as the python. The rhinoceros exists in the Terai, though not beyond the Ganges; but in the part we now are-that between the Ganges and the Jumna-there are wild elephants, and abundance of tiger, leopard, panther, bear, antelope, and deer of various kinds. My Bombay servant had heard so many stories at Hardwar about the inhabitants of this jungle, that he entered into it with fear and trembling. If the word hatti (elephant) was uttered once by our coolies, it was uttered a hundred times in the course of the morning. Before we had gone very

far, my dooly was suddenly placed on the ground, and my servants informed me that there were some wild elephants close by. Now, the idea of being in a canvas dooly when an elephant comes up to trample on it, is by no means a pleasant one; so I gathered myself out slowly and deliberately, but with an alacrity which I could hardly have believed possible. Surely enough,

the heads and backs of a couple of large elephants were visible in the bush; and as they had no howdahs or cloths upon them, the inference was fair that they were wild animals. But a little observation served to show that there were men beside them. They turned out to be tame elephants belonging to a Mr Wilson, a wellknown Himáliyan character, who was hunting in the Terai, and who seems to have been met by every traveller to Masúri for the last twenty years. I did not see him at this time, but afterwards made his acquaintance in the hotel at Masúri, and again in Bombay. It will give some idea of the abundance of game in this part of the Terai to mention, that on this shooting excursion, which lasted only for a very few days, he bagged two tigers, besides wounding another, which was lost in the jungle, three panthers, and about thirty deer. Mr Wilson has been called the "Ranger of the Himáliya," and his history is a curious one. About thirty years ago he wandered up to these mountains on foot from Calcutta with his gun, being a sort of superior "European loafer." There his skill as a hunter enabled him to earn more than a livelihood, by preserving and sending to Calcutta the skins of the golden pheasant and other valuable birds. This traffic soon developed to such proportions, that he employed many paharries to procure for him the skins of birds and animals, so that his returns were not solely dependent on the skill of his own hand. He married a native mountain lady, who possessed some

land, a few days' marches from Masúri; and finally, by a fortunate contract for supplying Indian railways with sleepers from the woods of the Himáliya, he had made so much money, that it was currently believed at Masúri, when I was there, that he was worth more than £150,000. I was interested in his account of the passes leading towards Yarkund and Kashmir, with some of which he had made personal acquaintance. I may mention, also, that he spoke in very high terms of the capacities, as an explorer, of the late Mr Hayward, the agent of the Geographical Society of London, who was cruelly murdered on the border of Yassin, on his way to the Pamir Steppe, the famous "Roof of the World." It has been rumoured that Mr Hayward was in the habit of illtreating the people of the countries through which he passed; but Mr Wilson, who travelled with him for some time, and is himself a great favourite with the mountaineers, repelled this supposition, and said he had met with no one so well fitted as this unfortunate agent of the Geographical Society for making his way in difficult countries. I do not think that the least importance should be attached to accusations of the kind which have been brought against Mr Hayward, or rather against his memory. The truth is, it is so absolutely necessary at times in High Asia to carry matters with a high hand

so necessary for the preservation, not only of the traveller's own life, but also of the lives of his attendants-that there is hardly a European traveller in that region, against whom, if his mouth were only closed with the dust of the grave, and there was any reason for getting up a case against him, it could not be proved, in a sort of way, that it was his ill-treatment of the natives which had led to his being murdered. I am sure such a case could have been made out against myself on more than one occasion; and an officer on the staff of the

Commander-in-Chief in India told me, that the people of Spiti had complained to him, that a Sahib, who knew neither Hindústhani nor English, much less their own Tibetan dialect, had been beating them because they could not understand him. Now, this Sahib is one of the mildest and most gentlemanly of the members of the present Yarkund Mission, and the cause of his energy in Spiti was, that, shortly before, in Lahoul, several of his coolies had perished from cold, owing to disobedience of his orders, and being a humane man, he was anxious to guard against the recurrence of such an event. But when treating of Kashmir, I shall speak more openly about the story of Hayward's death, and only wish to note here the testimony in his favour which was borne by the experienced “Ranger of the Himáliya," who has become almost one in feeling with the people among whom he dwells.

In the centre of this Terai, there is an expensivelybuilt police chowkie, in which I took refuge from the extreme heat of the day; but what police have to do there, unless to apprehend tigers, does not appear at first sight. It is quite conceivable, however, that the conservatory might become a convenient place of refuge for wild and lawless men, as well as for wild plants and wild beasts. Hence the presence in its midst of these representatives of law and order, who hailed the visit of a Sahib with genuine delight. The delay here prevented me reaching the cultivated valley of the Dehra Doon till midnight, so torches were lit long before we left the thicker part of the Terai; their red light made the wild jungle look wilder than ever, and it was with a feeling of relief that we came upon the first gardens and tea plantations. There is no place in India, unless perhaps the plateaus of the Blue Mountains, which remind one so much of England as the little valley of the Dehra