and our route was along the right bank of the one running from the north-east. We had not proceeded far beyond this point when we were again brought up by another torrent rushing into this; and, unfortunately for us, the bridge across it had been washed away a few days before our arrival, and we were now compelled to walk across a couple of slender trees fastened together, forming a very narrow passage. We got over, however, without any accident occurring. Having now marched nearly five hours, we were not a little delighted to see Kote-Khye. A most comfortable bungalow has just been completed at this place. It was erected by Mr. Erskine, the Governor-General's agent in the hills, and he occupies it in his occasional visits to this part of the country; at all other times it is open for the convenience of travellers. Kote-Khye is certainly the most romantic little spot I have ever had the good fortune to visit. The bungalow is situated on an elevated point, overlooking the residence of the Rana, and surrounded on three sides by gigantic mountains towering to the heavens, and wooded to their summits. The Rana's stronghold is built on a rock, and has a most imposing appearance. The rock rises out of a deep dell to the height of about one hundred and eighty feet, and has a fierce mountain-torrent_rushing round it on either side. On the top of this rock the house is situated, and the streams must be crossed ere access can be had to the building. The place might hold out against almost any force, provided large guns were not brought to play upon it; but a few round shot would soon batter it down. Thermometer this day, 69°. a Wednesday, 12th. We made halt to-day to get our clothes washed; and to dry our stores, which have been exposed to rain every day since our setting out. Kote-Khye is a place of some note, as here the revenue of the district is collected. The Rana's brother waited upon us to-day, and, in the evening, I returned the visit; but I had not the satisfaction of seeing the Rana himself; but the brother, Jeswunt Sing, received me, and led me into the Rana's apartments. I was obliged to cross one of the torrents by a very narrow plank, much inclined; and then climbing up the side of the rock, I entered a filthy gateway, at the end of which I turned to my right, and my guide led me through a pitch-dark room. I often hesitated, and half wished to turn back, but I had gone too far. I was next requested to ascend a plank, with notches cut in it, which led to a sort of trap-door in one corner of the dark chamber, and on reaching the top of the ladder, I was delighted once more to see day-light. I had now arrived at the Rana's receiving-room, a sort of verandah, open in front, and handsomely adorned with beautiful carved wood-work, but, otherwise, a most insignificant looking place. After waiting some time, in expectation of seeing the Rana, who had just gone out to inspect his farm, I made my salaam to Jeswunt Sing, and returned to the Bungalow, not at all envious of hill-side royalty. This was a most delightful day, and added much to the charms of Kote-Khye. Thermometer in the shade, 699. Thursday, 13th-Before the sun had risen, we again resumed our journey, and marched to a place named Jubul, between twelve and fourteen miles of a shocking bad road, running over a range of high hills, and then ascending until it reaches the village. Like Kote-Khye, Jubul is built upon a rock, surrounded by high mountains and rapid streams. One of the hill chiefs formerly resided at this place; but he died not long ago, leaving one son, a boy about eleven years old, to succeed him; but the Ranee, his mother, is the ruler at present. Towards the latter portion of to-day's march, my feet regularly gave up, and it was with much pain that I managed to hobble into camp. Our servants did not arrive till late in the evening, consequently we had nothing to eat all day from before sunrise. There is one small room at Jubul for the accommodation of travellers, but I would always prefer pitching the tent to occupying the room. Friday, 14th.-Starting again before sunrise, we had an uncommonly hot march to the village of KurooKottee. The distance from Jubul is about fourteen miles. The road winds along the left bank of the Pubur river which feeds the Tous, and the latter empties itself into the Jumna. About half way from Jubul, we passed the village of Syrree, on the face of a hill to our left, and a little beyond this the river takes a turn, in the angle of which a remarkable big rock rises, completely surrounded by water. At the base of this rock, on the waters' edge, there is a small village, but I could observe no means of communication with either bank. The river however, being very wide at this point, may be fordable throughout the greater part of the year. The scenery during to-day's march was lovely, and S--n remarked, that it was equal to that of the Rhine, and bore a great similarity to it. On our arrival at Kuroo, there being no bungalow, we sat down under the shade of an old temple, and with great patience awaited the arrival of the servants and baggage. The former at length made their appearance, but, alas! we were doomed to starve another day, for not a coolie came up till nightfall, when three or four men arrived, bring ing with them the tent and Sbedding, which latter he shared with me, and we lay down to sleep. 66 we forded the river a little lower down, close to its junction with the " Pubur;" but again, one false step at that place, and there would be no chance of being saved. The path from the river winds up the face of a steep mountain, and following it, we arrived at the village called Mudulla. Here there is a sort of house for travellers; and as we were both cold and hungry, we halted until the coolies came up, and then lighting a large fire, we had a splendid breakfast cooked. It consisted of grilled kid, eggs, and coffee, with lots of chepattees. By the time our repast was finished, my clothes, which I had spread out in the sun, had become perfectly dry, and I left Mudulla in a much more comfortable condition than I had been in when I arrived. Eggs and fowl were both procurable at this village, and of this we took advantage by purchasing a stock. I was astonished to observe almost half the natives here, and at Kuroo-Kottee, -n's with immense swelling in their throats, and in many instances a ball had formed, equal in size to the person's head; it had a very frightful appearance, but they do not appear to suffer any pain from it. I have been informed that this extraordinary formation is produced by drinking the snow water; but Captain Gerrard, in his work on "Kunnaor," says that this cannot be the cause, for, although the Kunnaorees can get nothing but snow water to drink for many months of the year, yet they are not so subject to these swellings, or goîtres, as the inhabitants of the forests at the foot of the hills, and damp grounds, where no snow water can be. The Swiss, and the natives of those parts of Italy in the neighbourhood of the Alps, are also grievously afflicted with this disease. We had determined on pitching our tent at the village of Chegong to-day, but, when within about musketshot of the place, we were forced to halt, in consequence of the bridge having been washed away by the rising of the torrent, which flows immediately under the village. The natives told us that it would be quite impossible to cross until the waters had subsided, which would perhaps be a month or more; but we felt rather reluctant to encamp here for a whole month, and much more so to go back to Simla. There was no scarcity of timber for forming a bridge, as the banks on either side were cover Saturday, 15th. We were up before daybreak, and found, to our joy, that all the coolies, with the exception of one man, had reached our camp during the night, and the cause of the delay we learnt from one of the servants whom we always left in charge of the baggage. He told us that the Ranee of Jubul had sent to one of her Jemidars with orders to provide a number of coolies for the conveyance of our baggage, but the fellow refused to obey, and gave the Ranee's servant a good drubbing for daring to make such a demand. We marched from KurooKottee just as the sun passed above the horizon; and continuing our course along the valley of the Pubur, had not proceeded far, when we were obliged to ford a broad and rapid torrent. The current was so great, that we required the use of both hands and a stick to balance ourselves, and had, consequently, to keep our shoes and stockings on our feet; the water in some places was up to our hips, and, even with a stick to support me, I should not have reached the opposite bank in safety but for the assistance which my dhooly afforded me. The water of this stream was the coldest I had ever felt. On gaining the opposite side we found that we might have saved ourselves much trouble had ed with the trunks of trees which had been carried down by the force of the torrent. We selected a narrow spot in the river, and commenced building a pier of large blocks and stones, while the villagers did the same on the opposite side. We then endeavoured to dessen the distance across the river by felling an immense tree which was growing out of the bank, but no sooner was our labour of cutting it down finished, than the river, as if in mockery of our efforts, carried it off like a reed. Before nightfall we had a pier raised on either side, but as the darkness approached, we were obliged to leave off; and finding a dry spot in the bed of the river, on it we pitched our tent for the night. of their laziness, or rather want of energy and public spirit. Every one seems to think that it is the business of. his neighbour to undertake the making of a bridge, or the repairing of a road, and in this way a public duty is neglected. We breakfasted at Chegong, under the shade of a large tree, and, after breakfast, continued our journey along the left bank of the Pubur. The first portion of this day's march was delightful, and the road, for some distance, runs close to the river's edge, which is well sheltered from the sun's rays by large trees; but the latter part of the journey was most fatiguing. The path begins abruptly to ascend, and continues winding up the face of the mountain to the end of the march. In many places Sunday, 16th.-Got up at dawn, we were obliged to climb up steep after having passed a most disagreeable stairs, rudely formed of rough stones, night. I could think of nothing but and in other parts, again, to bathe fearful torrent, and the roar of the lance ourselves along broad slabs of waters sounded as if immediately under rock, having smooth surfaces and inmy pillow; I twisted, and turned, and clined outwards. To have made a false covered my head up in the bedclothes, step on one of these would have been but it was all in vain. Several times I attended with fearful consequences, the imagined I heard the piers falling, but mountain side, not only perpendicular it was only the sounding noise of the in many spots, but overhanging and large stones rolling along the bottom, sloping inwards, and the Pubur roaring unable to withstand the force of the at its base, upwards of a thousand feet current. We were delighted in the below. It was late in the evening when morning to observe that the river had we reached the village of Peika, situatfallen considerably during the night, ed on the summit of a very high mounaud also to find that a number of na- tain, beautifully wooded to the very top. tives had collected on either side to We pitched our little tent under the assist us in the completion of our very shade of a fine large horse-chesnut tree, necessary work. We first placed four the first I have yet seen. The scenery timbers on each pier, in such a manner at this place is magnificent. The village as considerably shortened the space, is some thousands of feet above the and these we made fast by placing a river, and the valley exceedingly narpile of large stones on the top of them; row, which gives the mountains on two long trunks were then laid across either side an appearance of being the stream, and on these flat stones were nearly double the height that they placed, and our bridge was completed. really are. On the mountain immeEverything was carried over in perfect diately opposite Peika, there are three safety, and, I must confess, I was right enormous cataracts, and their appearwell pleased when I jumped off the pier ance this evening was sublime beyond to the opposite bank. The villagers, conception. The centre one runs down too, were overjoyed, and astonished at the face of the hill, nearly in a straight our exertions, for their communication line, and the other two fall into it at with either side had been cut off for very acute angles, forming one gigantic many days, and they were forced to go fall towards the base of the mountain. round the hills for several miles before I could not at first believe these falls to they could get over the torrent. No be water, for they had more the apbetter proof than this can be required pearance of chalk or snow. (Part II. in our next.) ODE TO NIGHT. SILENT, thought-exalting Night! Sweet odours, faintly breathed from herb and flower? Of deep repose-unbroken calm On crowded city shed, and lonely tower? Her cold blue radiance over field and bower? Shining through unnumbered years, For they influence the soul, Night thou art holy! These may all impart As the spicy odours rise, Where gorgeous summer ever smiles, When day, with all its cares, departs, Then the stores of recollection And visions of futurity, RECENT novelists have been singularly deficient in one great requisite for success-originality. Those who have, with various powers, pursued the historical style, over which the transcendant genius of Scott has shed such a glorious light, unable to catch his animation, because untouched by his inspiration, have chosen to follow his imitator, that meritorious, industrious, and talented writer, Mr. James, and to reproduce his pictures with such variations as their own fancy suggested. Domestic Life has been Edgeworthised to a very great extent, and admirably natural as were her finished and polished sketches of society, her followers have erred in too close adherence to her style, afraid to leave the beaten road, and find a new bypath through the country for themselves. The transatlantic novelist, Cooper, has furnished study after study to our English writers; and all the sea novels and forest romances with which we have been inundated, are but suggested by, and recollections of, his masterpieces. characteristic language, yet we assert that their writings are more frequently distinguished by a highly-finished execution than a happy conception, and we regard their productions more as a well painted piece of Sèvres porcelain than as a magnificent and striking picture of a Rubens, a Claude, or a Titian. Neither a Rubens, nor a Claude, nor yet a Titian, is Mr. Savage. He is rather the Hogarth of modern novelists; and his works evince that keen sense of the ridiculous, that lively appreciation of the peculiarities of mankind in society, that attention to seemingly insignificant details, that felicitous word shading, and that moral purpose insinuated, rather than expressed, which stamp him a worthy successor with the pen, to the inimitable artist who satirised the last century with his pencil. Mr. Savage does not morbidly crave after originality, but he does betterhe attains it. He is not like the PreRaphaelite artists of the present day, who, if they cannot delight us by their pictures, at least succeed in astonishing us, and who seem to consider that it is better to be spoken ill of, than not mentioned at all. He both pleases and surprises us; and sufficiently distinct from either Fielding or Smollett, he yet has caught somewhat of the manner of the one, and much of the wit and humour of the other. More recently, the novelist of roguery, Whether in sketching the English Reuben Medlicott; or, the Coming Man. By M. W. SAVAGE. 3 vols. post 8vo. Chapman & Hall. |