Reminiscences of Jungly pur. 159 



The huge rough leaves of the teak, flapping and scraping 

 mournfully together in the moisture-laden wind, take the 

 rain-drops with a metallic patter. Great masses of yel- 

 lowish-white blossom adorn their heavy heads. The woody 

 hillsides rise sheer, their emerald heights concealed in 

 drifting mists, which ever and anon drench the forest in 

 torrential downpours. There is a sound of many waters 

 abroad. In the valley a broad river brattles clear and 

 amber-tinted over its shingly bed. The red muddy flood- 

 time is past, and the once friable earth is again bound firmly 

 down by the monsoon verdure. 



Fevers and dysenteries wait on the luckless sportsman 

 who at such a season ventures to tarry long in these 

 wildernesses, the general unhealthiness of which is not 

 dried up until another four or five months have enabled the 

 sun to strip off leafage and get well at the roots of the 

 grass. 



The higher plateaux, however, enjoy a very pleasant 

 climate during breaks in the monsoon. Shrouded in dense 

 white vapour (this is at an altitude of close on 4,000 feet), 

 until the mists lift about eight o'clock in the morning, to- 

 display grand views of woody mountain scenery, one may 

 prowl the lighter up-lying jungles and open grass land very 

 pleasantly throughout the day in search of casual shikar, and 

 in the evening enjoy a fire in the corner of the shooting hut. 

 The woods are full of orchids, wild balsams, moss, ferns, and 

 tinkling streams. It might be a region very remote from 

 India's plains yet, only a few miles off, down below, our 

 little Cantonment lies sweltering in the muggy atmosphere 

 of one of the hottest provinces in the land. 



Large herds of cattle are pastured on these uplands now,, 

 and the herdsmen are not averse to furnishing news to the 

 sportsman when a wandering tiger or a leopard takes his, 



