THE VICTORIAN NATURALIST. 148 



as tliey play; or the hawk as it hovers over the deep ravines of the 

 mountain. 



I determined, invalid as I was, to attempt to ascend the 

 mountain. I got a native as guide ; a man about 30 to 35 years of 

 age. We started soon after seven in the morning. Upward, 

 onward, upward. But our progress was slow. In many places I 

 could not trace the path. An ascent upwards, and a descent again 

 into another shady dell. Now on the side of a steep, looking down 

 hundreds of feet into the chasm below. Now climbing up the face 

 of a perpendicular rock, or again dropping down a precipice by the 

 aid of limbs of trees and vines and alUed creepers. Falls often were 

 my lot. The soil was of a rich red clay, and mo.^t provoldngly 

 slippery, Everywhere vegetation was most rank. New ferns and 

 flowers met the gaze as we continued to ascend. After two to three 

 hours walking, we came out on a spur as it appeared only a mile 

 from our starting point. A very beautiful and rare blue butterfly, 

 flitted in sunny recesses. A dark bronzed moth here and there flew 

 across our jjath. A most delicate white swallow-tailed moth allied 

 to the English swallow-tail, now and then was disturbed from the 

 trees overiianging some babbling brook. About two o'clock we 

 reached one of the highest spurs, 2,000 or 2,100 feet. But alas, as 

 we began to descend, fearful precipices barred our way. The guide 

 would not go on, and so after dropping, slipjjing, crawling down 

 some 200 or 800 feet, I had again to ascend. I rapidly filled my 

 portfolio with botanical specimens. One Dendrobium I found, was 

 a rich gem. It had only been discovered a few months before, had 

 never l^een described, but was named in Kew, after Sir A. Gordon. 

 And so I was just too late. I wanted to cross to the Lavoni Valley. 

 After another two hours toilsome descent and ascent, we came to 

 tlie pathway commanding the pass crossing to the Lavoni Valley. 

 I had gazed upon the valley from the high peak above, and oh, what 

 a picture. A grand, deep, precipitous ravine, thickly wooded, and 

 one mass of luxurious vegetation, and gradually sweeping to the sea. 

 At four o'clock, I had been ascending for some time the bed of a 

 mountain torrent. I had to climb over huge boulders, jump from 

 ■crag to crag, drag myself along by climbing tendrfls, cross and 

 recross the stream continuously to gain the scantiest footing. And 

 now before me was a precipice some 80 to 100 feet high. Up 

 here, says the guide. What, no way round, — no road, no foot- 

 path ! No. But how can we go up there ? Oh, drag up by 

 the hanging climbers. And when we get up, what then — 

 another hill, another long ascent, and then down into the Lavoni 

 Valley. Pardon me, ladies and gentlemen, after nine hours marching 

 and climbing under a tropical sun, I felt that to climb would be to 

 rush into suicidal death, and so I summoned up my moral courage 

 and rej^olved to submit to defeat. I gave up my efforts to reach the 



