ith his friends; a closely covered waggon, which has been
held in readiness, is drawn up to the door; the females slip into
the house, bring out the thickly-veiled bride, push her into the
waggon, and follow her with the melodious music of the tam-tam. The
bride does not start until the bridegroom has been gone a quarter of
an hour. The women then accompany her into the bridegroom's house,
which, however, they leave soon afterwards. The music is kept up in
front of the house until late in the night. It is only the
marriages of the lower classes that are celebrated in this manner.

There is a road leading from Puna to Pannwell, a distance of seventy
miles, and travellers can post all the way. From Pannwell to Bombay
the journey is made by water. I adhered to the cheaper baili, and
Mr. Brown was so obliging as to procure one for me, and to lend me a
servant.

On the 15th of March I again set out, and on the same day arrived at
Woodgown, a village with one of the dirtiest bungalows in which I
ever made up my bed.

16th March. Cumpuily. The country between this place and Woodgown
is the most beautiful that I saw in India; the view from a mountain
some miles on this side of Kundalla, was particularly striking. The
spectator stands here in the midst of an extensive mountainous
district: peaks of the most diversified forms are piled in numerous
rows above and alongside of each other, presenting the most
beautiful and variegated outlines.

There are, also, enormous terraces of rock, flattened cones of
peaks, with battlements and pinnacles, which at first sight might be
taken for ruins and fortresses. In one place the lofty roof of a
majestic building presents itself--in another, a gigantic Gothic
tower rises aloft. The volcanic form of the Tumel mountain is the
most uncommon object which meets the eye. Beyond the mountains
extends a wide plain, at the extremity of which lies the polished
surface of the long wished-for ocean. The greater part of the
mountains is covered with beautiful green woods. I was so much
delighted with the extreme beauty of the prospect, that I
congratulated myself for the first time on the slow pace of my
sleepy oxen.

The village of Karly lies between Woodgown and Kundalla; it is
famous on account of its temples, which are about two miles distant.
I did not visit them, because I was assured that they were not half
so interesting as those at Adjunta and Elora.

Kundalla lies upon