The

grove. Shaking hands over, Mr Burnell gave me a cup of water that made my teeth ache from the cold. Then Mr. Taylor coolly handed me a ripe peach! Oh, what a sight, what a taste! H. soon came up, and Mr. Taylor had another for her. This was one mile from the top, and the hardest pull was yet to come. Coolies take one path and horses another; so leaving H., I pushed ahead, walking and riding with the two gentlemen. Half-way up, lots of boys came racing to meet us, and at last turning a corner, we came in sight first of the little church, then of one house and of another, until the whole collection burst upon us, nestling among the swelling hills that stretch away to the west. On top of the hill we rounded is Mr. Noyes's house. Across a deep valley from that are two other houses besides this, and still further on, hugging a forest, are two others and the church.

The whole top of this range is formed of beautifully rounded knolls, with valleys between, bare of trees save now and then a clump, but clothed with grass. Their smooth slopes form a most pleasing contrast to the sharp ridges of the peaks seen from the plain. As we came to Mr. Noyes's house, we were met by another squad of still younger ones. A few moments after I reached the top, H. appeared by another road. I galloped across the valley to see Mr Hunt, who was hallooing at me, and H. soon followed. The first good breath of cold air that baby caught scared her so that she screeched and screamed and sobbed most fearfully. She became still after a while, but it took a day fairly to reconcile her to her new home.

Well, we are fairly here, and have a snug jug of a house to ourselves. It is a little place, indeed, this

Rock Cottage. It is actually on a big flat rock, and under a hill or slope. But there is no prospect from it, except the uninteresting valley, beyond which is Mr. Noyes's house. We are writing this Saturday evening in our parlor. This room, as indeed the bedroom next it, looks like a big omnibus. The roof is tiled, but the tiles are hidden by a whitewashed cloth, fastened so as to look like the top of an omnibus. I can touch it with my hand. There are two windows opposite each other, one three feet high, the other two feet and a half. The bedroom joins it at the end, and is a trifle smaller, with one window a foot square. At the end of this is the dining-room, big enough to hold a table and chair in length, and a little less wide. So we are cribbed, cabined, and confined; quite a descent from our palace on the plains. But what of that? we have a home climate, and any quarters would be acceptable. Oh, how cold the water is! And how I have tramped to-day. Out at six this morning with H., Mrs. Hunt, and Miss A. on horses, Mr. Hunt, Mr. Tracy, and the boys on foot. We sent the ladies home and then wandered about, rolling rocks down precipices, and gambolling as the freak took us. But the best of it was that we saw two ibexes, beautiful creatures, bigger than goats, skipping along on a slope away below us. We don't see them every day here.

Then after breakfast I went to get some wood. Each one has to go into the woods, find a dead log, sit on it, claim it, and have it hauled out. When out in the woods, Mr. Yorke came here to find me. Hearing of it, I raced back. He had come for me to go in bathing; so we roused up Mr. Hunt and the Tracys, then took in Mr. Burnell and Mr. Taylor, and started

off, Mr. Hunt on horseback. It was about eleven o'clock, think of trudging off at such an hour in India, almost sure death below! We walked and walked, up hill and down, for over an hour, coming upon a beautiful trout-like stream, and following it up till we came to a fine waterfall of perhaps forty feet, at the base of which lay a delicious pool of most inviting look. Off and in, but whew, how cold! I hardly ever bathed in such apparently cold water at home. We swam and frolicked like boys, as boys we were, and then sunned ourselves and started back. Mr. Yorke and I lingered behind and clambered over the hills by a new way home, getting back by a little after

two.

Think of having a cane Rhododendrons grow on have set the boys to

One day has been the over-making of me, all my old life has come back, and I mean to enjoy myself here to the full. So like home: anemones and Solomon's seal, violets and lots of little familiar flowers laugh at you and drive away the gloom. made of geranium-stalk! trees as large as apple-trees. I work catching butterflies for S. They are not very plenty, but now that I hear of the safe arrival of my first despatches to S. I shall repeat the experiment often. It hailed here yesterday, and we frightened the ayah by putting a hailstone in her hands. She dropped it as if it had been a coal.

APRIL 24.

As I write there is a fearful storm of rain, thunder, and lightning raging outside. The rain penetrates the roof too; it is an awful storm, hardly a dry spot in the house. The ayah, who sleeps in the dining-room, has come in here to get comfort; she is scared. I had

a nice ramble with pony this morning. The top of these hills is most singular. All the eminences are of a like height and contour. Each one has a rounded head and slopes gradually down till it reaches a stream below. It is hard, for this reason, to cross from one to another, as a deep ravine divides and a grove skirts one side or the other. There seems to be no end to these hills. We had a grand sight from Nebo, a peak near by the house and a favorite resort, a morning or two since: clouds covered the whole plain so that nothing beyond us was visible, except now and then a hill-top, looking like an island in the ocean. The clouds were away below, but I presume looked from below as clouds usually do; from above there was much the appearance of a broken sea of ice, covered with snow, the cakes tossed up in the wildest confusion. By-and-by the cloud-sea broke up and the plain once more appeared. I saw a similar sight once from the Catskill, when we were there together, you remember, but it did not compare with this for grandeur.

Another fine excursion was to a spot about three miles off, where we looked down upon Bow Village. Whether the people are archers or not I cannot say, but they certainly have chosen a most romantic spot for a home. Down deep in a valley they can cultivate only by raising terraces, which, looked at from the height where we were, presented a very pretty appearance. The whole view would furnish a taking theme for an artist's pencil. On the way we scared two deer which soon fled into the jungle.

APRIL 28.

We have a tiger here! This afternoon I went over

to the lower houses to see the people, and was told on entering that they were looking after a leopard. That was game somewhat novel, so I started off in pursuit. Some wood-cutters told me where the gentlemen were, and I soon met them coming back without the game. We came up to the wood-cutters, and found that one of them knew about the beast, that a horse had been killed by it, and he could show the spot. So back we went, some on horse and some on foot. About a quarter of a mile beyond the houses is a deserted spot which goes by the name of the Bombay dhorie's house. Dhorie is "gentleman." It is a beautiful spot, deserted six years since, and now rankly overgrown with thistles, roses, geraniums, peas, and honeysuckles. Friday last H. and I had wandered through the woods to the spot, and enjoyed ourselves, all unconscious of our probable proximity to the beasts of the wood. A long avenue of tall geraniums leads to the house. To this place, in the open field, the guide took us and pointed to a spot in the grass where there had evidently been a tussle. He then followed along by the wood, showing where the beast had dragged his prey. A little further on a large round stone, which had been sunk quite deep in the earth, had been pulled out, and upon it were horse-hairs. We began to comment on the strength of the animal that could lug a horse in such style. Now the trail entered the wood and we followed, having hard work to make our way through the thicket. We came to a pool of blood, and a few rods further on came upon a sight that looked indeed like murder. The entrails were lying spread out entire, while a few steps beyond was the head of a horse, with the legs and ribs, a startling proof that this was no hoax as