tin will disappear before him in a few minutes. Tins of fresh white fish, and of any uncompressed vegetables, except, perhaps, peas, are of no use; but Finnan or Findon haddocks are, with boiled fowl and small tins of potted meat, and of sardines preserved in butter. But it is evident that we are thus in danger of running up a train of fifty coolies, at least at starting, and it was only by the greatest care both in choosing and in using these supplies that I was able to start with little more than two coolies' load of tins, and yet to keep coming and going on them for months. Skill of this kind can only be obtained by experience in travel; and it is essential, in order to make the supplies go any distance, peremptorily to forbid one's servants to open a single tin without express permission.

As twenty full quart-bottles are about a coolie's load, it is advisable to be as discriminating in the selection and use of potables as of edibles on a Himálayan journey. Wine, to any extent, and beer, are out of the question; for it must be remembered that it is sometimes difficult to get even the dozen coolies which are required to carry one's tent and other necessaries; and the duty of bigár, or carriage, presses so heavily at times on the villages of the Himálaya that it is but right for the humane traveller to avail himself of it as lightly as he can. Those who usually conform to the ordinary habits of civilised life, which are very well adapted for brainwork and for sedentary habits, will be surprised to find how easily they can conform to a simpler régime in the Himalaya; for in the keen stimulating air of these mountains there is not only very little

need for alcoholic stimulants, but also very little desire for them.

However perfect our other arrangements may be, there will be little comfort on a long mountain journey without exceptionally good servants, who will enter somewhat into the spirit of the journey; and it is exceedingly difficult to get Indian servants who will do anything of the kind. As a rule they do not like travelling, unless it be in the comfort and state of a commissioner's or collector's camp; and they have a great dread of cold regions in general, and of snowy mountains in particular. The consequence is, it is difficult to get respectable servants to go up into the mountains; and Simla is famous for its bad servants, though I noticed that almost every station I came to deemed itself more unfortunate in that respect than its neighbours. The plague of servants, everywhere considerable, has now become very serious in India. There has been no legislation of late years on this subject adapted to the circumstances of the country; and old arbitrary practices for keeping servants in order can be very rarely resorted to, and are not in themselves desirable. There has been too little care taken in valuing good servants, and too little trouble in having bad ones punished. The native Indian journals have some reason on their side when they argue that, if we are afflicted with very bad servants the fault is much our own, inasmuch as we have made them what they are. I notice, however, that the earliest accounts of Anglo-Indian life speak of two quite different types of servants, very much corresponding to the two great types of the present day. The misfortune is that, since the Mutiny, the number of servants of the good type has decreased, principally

owing to our lessened family interest in India; while the bad servants have found increased immunity under the almost necessary but overdone protection of legal equality with their masters, and with the greater opportunities which they now possess of moving from station to station, and of employing each other's, or forged, certificates. But there are very good servants to be had still in India, and care should be taken not to confound them with the rascals, or to treat them with harshness and distrust.

On this Himalayan journey I was singularly fortunate. About a year before, after having been afflicted with some of the worst servants to be found anywhere -men whose conduct would really have justified homicide-I found a treasure at Násik, in the person of Silas Cornelius, a native Christian, but a Marátha from the Nizam's dominions, who had been brought up in the schools of the Church Mission near Násik. In steadiness, in honesty, in truthfulness, in faithful service, in devotion to the interests of his employer, and in amiability of disposition, I never knew of any servant who surpassed or almost equalled Silas Cornelius; and his good conduct on my mountain journey was the more remarkable, as he had been led into it step by step, as I myself had been, and would never have left Bombay on any such undertaking. Very hard journey this, sir! very hard journey!" was his only remonstrance in even the worst circumstances; and it was accompanied by a screwing of the mouth, which was half pathetic, half comical. Not that Silas was without his foibles. When he found himself in the mountains with a gun slung behind his back, and was made the shikár of the expedition, as well as my butler, this mild and

amiable individual assumed a most warlike appearance and air; he tied up his moustache in Marátha fashion, and made the other servants call him Jemadar. He also became fond of too promptly ordering the coolies about, but as the hillmen paid very little attention to this, it did not much matter. The value of this butler was equalled by that of a very bright, intelligent, little Kunait boy about fifteen, called Nurdass, whom I picked up at Shaso, close to the Chinese frontier, and who, as he spoke Tibetan and Hindústhani, as well as his native Kunáwari, served me as interpreter on great part of my journey, besides being useful in a hundred different ways. These were the two gems of my small entourage. A Kunáwar Múnshi called Phúleyram, who went with me from Kotgarh as far as Kashmir, was chiefly of use in getting my tent and bed put up. The only other regular attendant I had was an Afghan cook called Chota Khan, or the "Little Chief,"- a man of great size and weight, of rather bullying propensities, though very useful on a journey, who kept everybody except myself in awe, and who was afraid of nothing except of crossing a jhúla or twig bridge. Whenever a young lamb or ancient ram was brought to us for sale, the way in which Chota Khan bellowed out thunders of abuse (chiefly with an eye to the satisfaction of his own capacious stomach) was exceedingly useful, and really frightened the astonished lambadars. It was a great pleasure to everybody when we came to a jhúla, because then the giant died, the hero broke down utterly, and had to be silent for the rest of the day,—until in the evening, among his pots and pans, and after cutting the throat of a sheep in orthodox Mohammedan fashion, with an exclamation which sounded much more like a

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curse than a blessing, he became himself again. All the other people I required, whether coolies, guides, or yakmen, were had from village to village. At Simla I engaged eight jhanpanwallahs to carry me in a dandi; but after five days this agreement was ended by mutual consent, and I depended entirely on people taken from stage to stage, and on ghúnts and yaks.

Thus it may be understood with what appliances of travel I started from Simla in the commencement of June; but it was not until after the experience of a few days' journey, and I got to Kotgarh, that I managed to bring things into order, and was able to cut down. the twenty-eight coolies with which I started to about twelve (or double that number of boys and women at half-pay), exclusive of those I might or might not need for my own carriage.