THE DOON 257 



not far from the river, the Httle town, hardly more than 

 a village, stands picturesquely nestled below the moun- 

 tains, with forests all around ; it is itself almost hidden 

 among groves of mango trees, planted by the ancestors 

 of its present inhabitants. Lying low, surrounded by 

 vegetation, it is during the rainy season extremely 

 unhealthy, indeed, a very abode of fever, but during 

 the cold season the climate is pleasant enough, by 

 day bright warm sunshine, at night sufficiently cold 

 to make sitting round a fire of logs outside the tent 

 very agreeable. 



The enjoyment of the fire is, however, a good deal 

 interfered with by a wind which soon after nightfall 

 commences to blow down the valley of the Jumna. 

 This wind, termed by the natives the " dadhoo," is one 

 of the peculiarities of the Himalaya ; it occurs at the 

 mouths of all the larger valleys, those that lead up 

 toward the snow; it is thus accounted for: after sun- 

 set the air of the higher portion of the valleys becomes 

 chilled, and becoming in consequence also heavier, it 

 sweeps downwards to the plains. 



At night are heard the usual forest cries, but mostly 

 the bark-like call of the deer and occasionally that 

 sweetest of all the forest sounds, the note of the night- 

 hawk ; this, heard only in the mountains, resembles 

 nothing so much as the sound of a musical glass or the 

 softest of bells. It is uttered once, and presently replied 

 to, then after the interval of a minute again repeated, 

 and so continued the livelong night. The note is sweet 

 in itself, and heard among the mountains, it seems to 

 express all the wildness and poetry of its surroundings. 

 S / ' 



