had surpassed anything before seen, even
our own South and Southern California not excepted; Java is indeed the
garden of the world! With remote mountain views on either side of us and
nearer aspects of palms and trees bearing names unknown, there were
interspersed rice plantations, unlike the flat fields of Burma,
cultivated in terraces rising one above the other on hilly slopes. An
occasional tea plantation lay here and there, and some traces of coffee
plantations; the cultivation of the bean has been partly abandoned
owing to the blight about ten years since.

As the train climbed upward, our destination being Garoet, two thousand
feet above the sea-level, the scenery grew less marked, but we were
still encircled by the Gedeh Mountain range. The great Garoet plain
consists of wide level stretches and extended rice-fields, less marked
by terraces than those we had seen before; therein is situated the
quaint village of Garoet, a favorite hill resort, where we found the
noted Hotel van Horck with its reputation for neatness and restful
hospitality. The one-story building has suites of rooms looking out on a
spacious garden, conventional in style, with its wealth of trees,
shrubs, and flowers, also busts and statues. A large oval bed of
brilliant crotons on one side of the garden, and another foliage bed
that formed the base of a pyramidal vase on the other side, were
especially admired.

The pretty little village of Garoet seemed to breathe a spirit of
contentment, and it is quite a resort for people from a lower altitude.
It is also the starting-point for various excursions, some of which we
took, but the daily rains proved an obstacle. The afternoon of our
arrival we drove to a pretty lake, but a sudden rain prevented a sail to
the island in an exceedingly quaint little kiosk, which rests on two
long boats. The bad weather also prevented a visit to the Hot Springs,
where baths of a rather primitive character are furnished.

[Illustration: _A village scene in Garoet, Java_]

The most noted excursion is to the crater of Papandajang. We departed on
this quest, about five in the morning, driving eleven miles to the rest
house at Tjiseroepan, where ponies and sedan chairs were furnished for
the ascent, a distance of about six miles. Four of our party selected
saddle horses, and four preferred sedan chairs (I took the latter). The
chairs are carried by four men, two in front and two in the back,
supporting on their shou