XXII 



ON THE PACIFIC COAST 319 



over the savanna, burst suddenly into leaves and 

 flowers. All this was interesting enough, but there 

 was a reverse to the picture. As a shower of rain 

 is such a rare event at Chandiiy, the inhabitants 

 think their houses sufficiently protected by a slight 

 roof of the leaves of Arrow-cane (Gynerium sp.), 

 through which the heavy and continued rains of 

 the present year have passed as through a sieve. 

 Figure to yourself, then, my dwelling flooded by 

 night bed and everything else soaked so much 

 wet out of doors that I could not take even such 

 exercise as my slender forces permitted, and it 

 will not surprise you to learn that I had a severe 

 attack of jaundice. A little after the equinox the 

 weather grew drier and cooler, and my illness 

 began to leave me, although I have still not quite 

 shaken it off. 



The sea-breezes, which blow from the west and 

 south-west, are strong and cool. We have already 

 had the thermometer once down to 66^ , and in 

 June and July we may expect to see it still lower. 

 I walk about as much as I can, and amuse myself 

 with gathering and preserving the flowers, although 

 they are now fast drying up. The beach is rather 

 too steeply inclined to be pleasant to walk on, and 

 shells and seaweeds are rather scarce ; but the antics 

 ot the burrowing crabs are diverting, and especially 

 their battles with my clog, who disinters them from 

 their holes in the sand. It is singular, however, 

 to have been nearly four months by the seashore 

 and only to have eaten fish three times, nor once 

 to have gone out in a boat. . . . 



The industry of the Chandiiyenians, who are 

 nearly all pure Indians, is almost limited to the 



