26 THE RIFLE AND HOUND IN CEYLON, chap. ii. 



mignonettes, andahundred flowers that recall England, 

 fills the air. Green fields of grass and clover, neatly 

 fenced, surround a comfortable house and grounds. 

 Well-fed cattle of the choicest breeds, and English 

 sheep, are grazing in the paddocks. Well-made roads 

 and gravel walks run through the estate. But a few 

 years past, and this was all wilderness. 



Dense forest reigned where now not even the stump 

 of a tree is standing; the wind howled over hill and 

 valley, the dank moss hung from the scathed branches, 

 the deep morass filled the hollows; but all is changed 

 by the hand of civilisation and industry. The dense 

 forests and rough plains, which still form the boun- 

 daries of the cultivated land, only add to the beauty. 

 The monkeys and parrots are even now chattering 

 among the branches, and occasionally the elephant in 

 his nightly wanderings trespasses upon the fields, un- 

 conscious of the oasis within his territory of savage 

 nature. 



The still, starlight night is awakened by the harsh 

 bark of the elk ; the lofty mountains, grey with the 

 silvery moonlight, echo back the sound ; and the 

 wakeful hounds answer the well-known cry by a pro- 

 longed and savage yell. 



This is ' Newera Ellia,' the sanatorium of Ceylon, 

 the most perfect climate of the world. It now boasts 

 of a handsome church, a public reading-room, a large 

 hotel, the barracks,and about twenty private residences. 



