FUUTHER FJXPEEIENCES OF MR. FRESH. 
moulder in tlie forest glade.” As a rule, these stick bridges 
were chiefly over smuil sti eams and rivers, while the large 
rivers were forded ; but there was an exception in the 
latter case. It is seventeen years ago since we first en- 
tered the Pundalu-oya coffee uistrict. At that time a stick 
bridge spanned the river at or about the present site of 
the bridge ; a very convenient rock near the centre of the 
river served as a centre abutment or rest, so that it might 
be said the bridge was a double one, in two detached 
parts, separated by the centre rock, on which the ends of 
the trees were placed, as horses during floods were un- 
saddled and taken across with a rope round their necks, 
which was held in the hands of a man on the side to 
which he was crossing, just in the same way, as has been 
described in a former chapter, as the passage of the old 
Dimbula ferry. This stick bridge was only for foot 
passengers; and the peculiarity of it was, that 
you never could trust to its being there when wanted, 
it was so frequently washed away. Indeed it was just a 
matter of cuurse for the residents on the south side of 
the river before they started on a journey, or before sending 
off coolies for rice, to send down to the river and see 
if the stick bridge was there! It sometimes happened that 
when the tappal cooly arrived from Ramboda on his home- 
ward route, the stick bridge was carried away. So that a 
Siring was passed over the river, and the tin letter box 
slung across on it. Eut the hardest fate of all was, when 
the beef and bread coolies from Pussellawa arrived with 
their loads late on a Saturday evening, and could not 
cross'. You have been on “ short commons for some 
time : never mind, you would have a good beefsteak on 
Saturday, and a bottle of Bass” too. You might even 
have asked your neighbours to come over and have a social 
gathering, and of course they came ; but the social gathering 
would have to submit to rice and curry and a cup of tea, 
tor all the grub and grog was in the tin box, on the other side 
of the river. But, “it’s an ill wind that blows nobody good-” 
What a grand catch it was for the coolies at morning 
muster, at the old wooden bungalow on the south side of 
the river, near and below the present coffee store, when they 
were ordered to carry bags of coffee to Tavelantenna, if just 
as they were about to complain of some grievous bodily 
ailment and shew you their sore feet, the watchman at 
the bridge came running round the corner, and stood 
silent for some time in order to recover his breath after 
running at full speed up that awful road, covered with 
landslips, which winds, or rather did wind, along the side 
of the river. A bright gleam shot over the faces of the 
coolies; they knew what he had come to say, and put back 
the bags of coffee into the store before he spoke. When 
he did speak, the speech consisted of two words : very ex- 
pressive, quite enough to answer the purpose, and these 
words were Pallam 'potche'' (the bridge is gone.) So instead 
of carrying coffee a score of men were sent off to scramble 
across the river wherever they could. They would manage 
it on some old tree, and they would cut sticks and timber 
in the North Pundalu-oya jungles for the new “stick 
