and the shikaree had given orders to my followers to meet us at a village already within sight. He led the way, burdened with a few cheeras, or hill pheasants, and we traced our way zigzag round rocky points and broken gullies, gradually seeking the lower ground. As we did so, we lost the sun all the faster, and occasionally passing through a copse of ilex, it was not easy to see our way in these, and as we got to the margin of one, a shrill bark rang through the grove, and the sharp riflecrack followed it. "What! shoot a dog?" the sportsman of another clime would say. "Well, look here; is this a dog? Say, did you ever see a head finer, or horns more delicate, or legs more slender? But the bark of the animal has misled you see, it is a kakur, or barkingdeer." The sound of the rifle had told the paharees, who had been pitching my tent, of our vicinity, and the peculiar shout of the hillmen reached us from below, and from a peak abruptly hanging over the ilex grove the pale curling smoke of their fire could be seen by us. We sat down beside the fallen kakur, and from time to time the shikaree returned the challenge of the paharees; nor had we to wait long ere two of them found us out, and guided us to the spot fixed upon for a bivouac.

The hill-men are strange fellows, and very far from devoid of a love for the picturesque. They had pitched the tent upon a platform, containing some fifty square yards, surrounded by precipices on every side, a pathway sufficient to let a mule or donkey pass being the only communication between it and the road along the mountain side. These platforms are common in the hills, serving admirably as encampingplaces to the numerous bands of grain-carriers who, with their wives and children, mules and grain-bags, huddle up together on these little spots. Two private servants, four paharees or hill-men, and my native hunter, composed the party. The tent and a few cooking-pots, and a petara, or basket of eatables, formed the amount of my supplies, barring what might fall to a double rifle, for which all honour be to J. and C. Smith, of Princes Street. The kakur soon became no kakur under the knives of the paharees, who, possessing but a scanty portion of the religious scruples of the Hindoo of the plains, busied themselves in the making of savoury dishes but partially known to us. Wandering acquires an additional charm if the path is a by-road that the foot of man doth seldom tread upon; the precipice scaled, the mountain torrent forded, both afford a pleasure to him who has surmounted them. Do they not also give a pleasurable feeling to him narrating them many years afterwards?

With the aid of a thorn, culled by a better hand than mine from Gungotri's brow, I day by day found myself deeper in the hills, and with too great enthusiasm for such a trip, I urged the strength I did not feel. My immediate servants, poor Hindostanees, foreigners to a temperature below 85°, and all unaccustomed to such scenes, with judicious encouragement forced the difficulties, and, flattered by their "sahib" dubbing them "paharees," passed cheerfully over what were to them hardships indeed. But we went on in amity, the solitude of a

hilly jungle rendering even the society of a lowly Asiatic desirable. In manner like this, four or five marches among the hills passed over, and a wilderness of hill and defile terminated the prospect from every point of the compass, and, removed from those of my own colour, I began to build castles very much of a Robinson Crusoe complexion. Whilst deep in the construction of one of these airy fabrics, I gained the top of a steep ascent, over which boulder stones were thickly scattered, and from this higher ground the hut of a paharee or hill-man suddenly presented himself. The situation of the hut was most becoming; built upon a point of granite terminating a long ridge of primary formation, that would have gladdened the heart of a geologist, and shooting into a valley singularly beautiful. Around flourished varieties of the hardy fir,—at least, upon every eminence, and the Indian oak-leaf clothed every ravine; and over shelving rocks and smoothened pebbles, many feet below the hut, forced its way the splashing mountain stream. "What a little paradise this paharee has!" thought I, as I stood lost in astonishment at the world of enjoyment presented by a hut of granite blocks, slated over with the coarse micaceous slate of this region. A hanging garden in front of the cottage was unusual, and it struck me so at once, and that object made me linger about the neighbourhood longer than I might have done; and whilst yet unwilling to depart, my wonder was still more excited by the appearance of a white man, who, dressed in a surcoat fashioned from the hide of a spotted deer, and his head clothed in a shaggy bear-skin covering, approached, and, spite of my astonishment, saluted me with confidence, and invited me to enter his rustic abode. Even under his uncouth garb, and though met with where men of his colour are not to be found, he could not disguise the breeding of a gentleman, and I followed him into his hut, lost in speculation at such a strange meeting. With his own hands he placed the morning meal before me, asking as a favour that I would permit my own servant to remain without, for he who for years had been his own attendant, and a white man too, could not brook being served by another, even though an Asiatic, and the domestic of another. A rude table of unplaned fir was furnished forth with cakes of barley-flour, butter, and milk from the little goats of Bengal, so much valued for its superior flavour; and a European salad of lettuce, radishes, and beet-root, sent a fresh perfume through the scarcely furnished apartment.

It has been my disposition to conciliate the man of misfortune; and with this humble recluse I passed two days, neither unprofitable to myself nor I hope to my entertainer, and most urgent was he in his request that I would prolong my visit. I was unable to concede this; but I had stayed sufficiently long to shew him that I felt for him, and, once satisfied that I did so, he opened his heart, and told his tale, not concealing the self-blame that the world awarded him. Had he been a less honourable man, he had remained in the circle he belonged to; for, although blameable, and how could an English gentleman be so exiled without a chronicle of blame, misfortune, or misanthropy,-many worse than he have never lost the sanction of the world. His narrative

was a combination of these, and a lesson to the man of hasty temper
and uncontrolled desires. He was a man of thirty-five, with a consti-
tution that had scathless borne a sojourn in the plains of fifteen years,
and had been considered a man of intellect in a corps where all are
intellectual; but alas! for him, he possessed the frequently abused
gift vulgarly called "being good at the pen." This talent, given to him
for his weal, was the cause of his fall; for, induced by an irritable
temper, and the command of a cutting and pointed vein of satire, he,
indited to his superior a letter, however true and just in some respec
in others singularly subversive of military authority. Every friend that
he had anticipated the result,-dismissal; but, on account of certain
points ameliorating his offence, it was not confirmed, and he was per-
mitted to retire upon a small pension. But at this period he was in
debt, probably only to the trifling amount that he could have paid off
at six months' warning, but in his now reduced circumstances this debt
was large indeed; he found himself completely involved; but, to extri-
cate himself from this thraldom, and from his own resources alone, he
set about with a praiseworthy determination. He had many friends,
who would have gladly relieved him from this burden, but he could
neither bear their pity nor their aid, and, unable to cope with them as
he had done, he disappeared none knew whither, his retreat being only
known to the hunter of the hills. Driven thus into exile, he rested
not; his gun became his sole support, and the danger of crag and defile
his pleasure; and, after wandering for weeks, he at length fixed upon
this spot, and with his own hand constructed his paharee dwelling. The
walls were of small blocks of old trap, uncemented, but bound toge-
ther by an occasional beam of fir being introduced; the sloping roof
was covered with heavy slabs of grey slate. One story, the lower,
served him for a granary, in which he kept his scanty supplies, and the
dried produce of his garden; the upper was the apartment in which he
lived and slept. In the building itself there was no pretension beyond
the cot of a native woodcutter. A few necessary implements of hus-
bandry occupied one corner, a box of carpenter's tools another. A
table of unplaned fir, with two clumsily-constructed chairs; a shelf of
well-worn volumes on the wall; a rude charpoy or bedstead, covered
with a glossy and well-preserved bear-skin; and these were the only
articles of furniture. Several skulls of animals that had fallen to his
rifle here and there dotted the wall; the elegant antlers of the spotted
deer, and the still more beautiful horns of the kakur, gave a rustic and
sportsmanlike air to the humble abode, highly agreeable; and the fea-
thery coats of the hill pheasant and the golden eagle hung behind the
door. The stone shelf above the fireplace was covered with specimens
of gneiss, rock crystal, and iron ore, picked up during his different
excursions. There was much to admire in all this; its simple poverty
alone claimed consideration. He took me to his garden,-no great bo-
tanical lore was there displayed; it was all devoted to the cultivation
of edibles.

The recluse was not long in discovering the sympathy within my

breast; it begat in him confidence, and he unburdened his heart, and talked to one whom he thought would be a friend; and, reserve once aside, he shewed the mind of a person whose destiny ought to have been a better one. "Can I do any thing for you?" I asked, as I was about to depart. "I think I could; I think there are many ways in which I might be of service." "One-only one way in which you can: spare me a little powder and shot."

I

CHAPTER VII.—THE HILL TEMPLE AND THE SANATARIUM.

The recluse and I parted. I shook hands and bade farewell-aye! and a regretful one-with the only white man in the Himalaya valley. never saw him again, and only once have met with one who had visited him. I had taken the direction of Simla, by the "pugdundee,” or hill path, seldom mounting the sturdy ghoont, or hill pony, that my syce led. Ere the daily sunset, I and my party generally arrived at a Brinjarees encamping-ground, and in the neighbourhood of many of these places of rest a little lake (probably in many cases artificial), for the use of cattle, was welcome to the eye, already half sated with the constant view of nought but rugged ground. Scarcely a more interesting feature in the day's adventure could occur than that of arriving at a "davee," or hill temple. Contrast the pavilion of but twelve feet square, with its coned roof projecting beyond the walls, and from the eaves of which a row of wooden pendants, like gigantic ear-rings rattling in the wind; the primitive carving upon the fir-tree pillars that support the open end of the building; and above all, the silence of the fane, where no priest dwells, but to which the rude mountaineer repairs to offer up to that power he deems supreme his wishes and his thanksgivings. Let him who looks upon the simple edifice contrast all these appliances with the polished freestone and elaborate carving of a Benares ghaut, or a Hurdwar pinnacle, with the hordes of Brahmin ministers of that religion, and hundreds of devotees crowding their steps and gateways, and counting their beads, and dropping at intervals their offered flowers upon the hurrying river, seeking by publicity the estimation of their fellow-men. Look but once at the simple temple of the hills-dedicated, though it be, to an idolatrous worship: every thing about bespeaks a better principle in those who come here; and silent as it is, without a human being near but ourselves, yet upon the footpath that leads thereto, the weed or grass sprig hath not encroached; that path is not a neglected one-it is often trodden. Not a single human being is in sight; no echo among these ravines below of the woodman's axe or the labourer's mattock; but cast a glance into the square of the outer apartment of the "davee," and upon the flooring stone, all symbol-carved, a few half-charred branches are there, and the attenuated and opal-like smoke, spirally ascending from them, shews that the hill-man's offering fire hath not yet expired. These flowers, too-that wild thyme and mountain cistus-are not yet withered; and the petals of the dog-rose and rhododendron, strewed about, seem as if plucked but an hour ago: and upon the platform

around, carpeted with grass and moss of the closest texture, are the recent traces of a horse's picket, and the peculiar shoe-print tells that the animal that made it is the property of a native, for no white man's horse is shod after that fashion.

It is a somewhat melancholy yet pleasing thing, when the day is closing, to hear the prolonged note of the gong from the rana's gurhee on some giddy steep, one wave of sound following another, modified by degrees, and at length rendered tremulous, and feeble, and dying, by many an intervening ridge; but a more cheering sight it is when there is no longer light sufficient whereby to distinguish the surrounding landscape, to discover the rushlight glimmering in the hut upon some far-off slope, and one by one are lit up, here and there, above, below, in deep glen and on prominent peak, the twinkling hearth of the hardy paharee.

It was by a by-road, and towards evening, that the well-known sanatarium of Simla suddenly lay before me. The path led by the best and most frequented rendezvous of the place. Smart riding-habits and single-button cutaways, worthy of being sported on a great St. Leger day, ambled past on quick-paced ghoonts; and ere the third such party had passed me, I knew the favourite topic of the day, the cherished piece of scandal of the hour, so dear to a society loving to deal in little niceties. If you would see purity of intention awarded from one neighbour to another, charity of thought, and the real "milk of human kindness," which perhaps you may have read of but not yet personally discovered, you need scarcely go to Simla to look for it. But if you can listen to and enjoy the heartless jest launched at the innocent and unoffending and undefended,-if it would gladden you to hear him scoffed at and termed "hypocrite," and see him remain unsupported who beards the reviler of the absent,-step into the billiard-room at three o'clock P.M., and listen for an hour; you will return gratified.

I slipped, as unobserved as possible, into my friend's bungalow. A savoury joint or two smoked already on the board, and I believe I must have punished the worthy old Colonel's Bass and Allsopp's; but then we were so snug, and the welcome was such a hearty one, and it was so pleasant to hear the bland hostess giving the good old English orders for "well-aired bed-linen," and "warm water to the feet." These attentions are far from romantic, yet few sound better to the ear, or appear more becoming to the mistress of a house, however exalted she may be. A crowd of the female rising generation laughed gleesome. around, the rose of health upon their cheeks, and not like the sickly ones with hardened spleens I had known in the plains. I thought of Rosa, and Ella, and Mary, as we ducked for apples by the nursery fire on All-Hallow's eve.

Simla is as sylvan a retreat as can well be imagined; its slopes clad in oaks, and stately pines upon its ridges; picturesque nooks, with the gables of Swiss cottages only partially seen by the passer-by, make one long to live there always; the peaceful English church, and unpretending grave-yard, cause no shudder to come over the beholder, as does