Scarcely had we arrived at the end of the march, when to add to our discomfort a heavy thunder storm suddenly broke over us, obliging us to seek shelter where we could, and soaking my bed and other things which were still far in the rear. In the evening I witnessed one of the most beautiful rainbows I had ever beheld; the sun was just dipping to the ridges of the hills, and shining on the vapoury clouds that were floating up the valley, caused the bright colours of the rainbow to stand forth most brilliantly, one end resting on the river's brink while the wide arch was thrown across the valley and was lost beyond the snow-clad summits of the other bank.

It was nearly opposite to this village, on the left bank of the Sutledge, that the conflict took place between the Goorkhas and Kunawurrees, in which the advanced guard of the former experienced so warm a reception as to make them glad to come to terms, and a treaty was accordingly entered into, stipulating that so long as the Goorkhas refrained from entering Kunawur, a yearly tribute should be paid to them. This treaty, I believe, was never infringed, and remained in force until the expulsion of the Goorkhas from these hills by the British forces.

My people were so tired with the long march from Nachar, that they begged hard for a halt at this place: as I was anxious to push on however, and the next stage was said to be a short one, I did not comply with the request, and accordingly proceeded on the morrow to the village of Meeroo.

Nearly the whole way was up hill, and in some places steep and rugged, but it got better by degrees, until entering a forest of prickly leafed oaks it became very good and continued so, although still up hill, to the end of the march. The heat and consequent fatigue of climbing steep hills under a burning sun were almost intolerable, and I wished many a time that we were among the snows which capped the range along whose sides we were toiling. Few things are more calculated to strike the naturalist, in wandering through the grand and beautiful scenery of these stupendous hills, than the almost total absence of living creatures; days and days he may travel on, through woods that seem to promise shelter for every various form, so diversified are the trees and plants which they produce; yet, save the crow, or the swallow as it skims along the open grassy tracts, scarcely a living thing is met with; all seem to shun the intermediate heights; and while the bear and leopard, deer, and goats, flock to the higher ridges near the snow, the various species of the feathered race cling to the lower woody tracts, where sheltered and secure they rear their

young. At Meeroo the temple was adorned with about twenty pairs of horns of the sikeen and wild sheep; the former animal is an ibex, and is said to have been once plentiful here among the snows, but of late years it has entirely disappeared from the neighbourhood. Some of the horns on the temple are of large size and were placed there by the fathers and grandfathers of the present generation, none of whom recollect seeing the living animal near the village, although there are some old men among them too. I inquired if I might take 5 some of the horns, to which they replied with feigned astonishment, "they are presented to Devi, and who will dare to rob her temple?" I disclaimed, of course, all intention of robbing her, but suggested that as she had now possessed the horns for some time, she might perhaps be willing to take something else in exchange! To this they said, she could have no objection; and after a little bye play among themselves, a hoary headed old sinner stepped forward and informed me that "the devil was willing to sell his horns at two rupees a pair!" I agreed to give it, but on examination it was found that the whole batch of them were worth nothing, being quite rotten and decayed from age and ex. posure to the elements, so I declined taking them. The wild sheep is still occasionally found on the heights above the village, and sometimes also a stray jahgee, or horned pheasant. I had made repeated inquiries regarding the actual existence of an unicorn in any part of the hills, but although I found many who had heard of such an animal, and believed in its existence, I could meet with no one who had ever seen it.

Here however I encountered an old man who had travelled much in the interior, and various parts of the mountains, and who declared that he had once beheld the unicorn. I was of course all attention, and on the tiptoe of delight with the idea that I should now have an opportunity of describing this long considered fabulous animal, and of ending discussion past, present, and future, as to its existence. Alas, my visions were doomed to fleet away, for after a long and close examination, in which it was necessary to listen to a rigmarole history of the old man's birth, parentage, and education, and his never ending travels into Tartary to purchase wool, which he had done regularly every summer of his life for forty years, it turned out to be nothing more than an ugly clumsy rhinoceros which he had seen in the possession of the Rajah of Gurwhal, and which he described as being like an elephant without a trunk, and having a horn on its nose.

From Meeroo we had an up hill march all the way, and crossed the first snow at a stream over which it formed an arch, so hard and solid

that it did not yield to the tread, though the sun at 10 A. M. was shining on it at a temperature of 82°, while the stream beneath was as low as 38°.

From this spot commenced a long ascent over the side of a grassy hill, strewed with sweet smelling violets and the little scarlet "pheasant's eye," and near the summit of which we encamped, being about three miles from Rogee, which is the usual stage, but being situated off the road at half a mile down the Khud, I preferred staying where I was for the night. From this place we had a good view of the Burrenda Pass which was indeed apparently only separated from us by the deep glen through which the Sutledge flows; it was still thickly covered with snow, and looked like a deep notch cut in the snowy range. The hill above our encampment was also heavily covered with snow, from which throughout the day, immense beds or avalanches, loosened by the heat of the sun, were constantly precipitated into the glen below, or falling from rock to rock with a heavy and deadened roar like distant thunder, and resembling in their course some mighty cataract. Towards evening as the sun dipped behind the range and the first chills of night were coming on, these sounds gradually died away, and the snow became once more bound up by frost. The height of my camp here was 9,897 feet, and the little lagomys and the chough were now first seen among the rocks that overhung us; here too, I once more found the purple iris, discovered in my trip to the Burrenda pass, but it had not yet put forth a single bud. On the 31st of May I continued my march towards Chini, by a good road that continued to ascend for some distance, and at length brought us to an elevation where many beautiful plants of iris were in full bloom; it was the same as that found at my last encampment, and among them was a single root bearing a pure white flower, showing modestly among the deep purple of the neighbouring plants, like a fair bride surrounded by the gay and glad attire of the bridal train.

A little farther up the ascent, at about 10,500 feet, I took some splendid specimens of a new species of peepa, the largest of that genus I have yet seen belonging to our Presidency. They were adhering by a thin viscous plate to the stalk of a coarse grass, growing at the roots of juniper and a species of furze bush, the latter beautifully covered with yellow flowers. The species being new to science, I have given it the name of " Peepa kunawurensis," from the district in which I obtained it. Here too the rhubarb was growing abundantly, and as I had now tasted no vegetables for many days, I gathered some of the stalk and had an excellent stew for my dinner.

About three miles from Chini we came to a place where the whole hill-side had slipped away into the Sutledge, forming a mural precipice of several thousand feet from its base to the summit. The rock was thus a prependicular cliff, and the road which leads along the face of it is a mere scaffolding, somewhat resembling that used by builders against the side of a house. Looking down from this exalted station. the Sutledge is seen, narrowed by the distance to a stream, as it winds along below at the perpendicular depth of 4,000 feet. This though an awkward place to look at, and somewhat like walking in the gutter of a fourteen storied house in the " gude town o' auld Reekie," is nevertheless perfectly strong and safe, and almost capable of allowing two people to walk abreast, so that unless one wishes to look below into the yawning abyss, it may be passed over without having been once seen. That it is safe, may be gathered from the fact that flocks of sheep and goats laden with attah and grain, pass over it almost daily during the summer months, as also men; in fact it is the high road in every sense of the term between Rampore and Tartary.

Much has been said and written concerning the dangers of the way, but the road, taking it on an average, has hitherto been excellent, and though here and there, from stress of weather, it is at times a little broken and perilous, yet those places are so few, and continue for such short distances, that they cannot be allowed to characterise it, or to admit of its being called dangerous or even bad.

True enough it is, that one of these bad places may be the means of breaking a man's neck if he chance to slip, but the answer to that is, that he who cannot keep his feet, or who grows giddy at the sight of the depths below, has no business to travel over "bank and brae." The road is kept in repair by the zemindars of villages, by order of the Rajah, and much credit is, I think, due to them for the manner in which they perform the task; for with very little additional care to that which is now bestowed upon it, it might vie with any of those of the lower hills, and is even now superior to them in many parts.

There is no spot, in fact, even the worst, which a man ought to turn away from, and though I would not recommend a lady to try them, I can safely say, that I have crossed many a worse place in the khuds near Simla, while in search of objects of natural history. But after all, the difficulties of a road will be always estimated according to the imagination or temperament of the traveller; for he who is accustomed to mountain scenes, or to scramble over all places as they may occur, will laugh at that from which another man would turn away; habit is a great thing even here, and that which seems

dangerous at first, becomes nothing when one is accustomed to it. Thus it may happen that others shall follow in my path and laugh at that which I have called bad or dangerous.

The scenery from Meeroo to Chini is beautifully grand and imposing, the snowy range on the left bank being spread along the whole way like a fair white sheet, and raising its ragged outline far above all vegetation, till it attains, as in the bold giant peaks of the Ruldung group overhanging Chini, an elevation of twenty-two thousand feet above the sea.

The right bank of the river presents a marked contrast to this bold and awful grandeur, the hills receding more gradually and with a less shattered look, being thickly clothed to their very summits with noble forests of pines of many species, as the Kayloo, Neoza, Spun, and Cheel.

Chini, though a tolerable sized village for the hills, has a poor and ruinous appearance about it; it is situated in the midst of cultivation which is plentifully irrigated by streams from the snows above, which come dashing down in a sheet of foam as white as the snow beds from which they issue. Chini is rather the name applied to several small villages or hamlets scattered among the cultivation and resting on the slope of the right bank, than that of any one in particular. This is not uncommon in Kunawur, and occurs also at the next stage, where several are again comprehended under the one name of Punggee.

On the opposite side of the Sutledge, a few miles higher up its course than Chini, is situated the village of Pooaree, famous for producing the best kismish raisins in Kunawur. It is also the residence of one of the vuzeers, and has a joola of yák's hair ropes over the river from which a road leads up to the Burrenda pass.

On the 1st June I proceeded to Punggee, where a number of my coolies whom I had brought from Simla became alarmed at the accounts they heard people give of the scarcity and dearness of provisions in Spiti, and refused to accompany me farther. Remonstrance and advice were alike thrown away upon them, and finding that neither promises nor threats had any effect, I gave the order to the Churriah to furnish me with the necessary number. On his announcing my order to them in the Kunawur language, a most amusing scene took place; men and women, old and young, threw themselves at once with such hearty good will upon my baggage, each scrambling for a load, that I fully expected to see half the things torn to pieces in the scuffle. After much noise and laughter each succeeded in obtaining something, and off they all trudged right merrily towards