t the jungle in the bottoms for rice
cultivation and thus forming what at some seasons appear to be bright
green rivers winding through the forest-clad or wooded slopes, and here
and there planting on the knolls trees of various wide-spreading kinds.
And yet from the absence of fences, and of cultivation on the uplands, the
whole scene appears to be one of Nature's creations, and all the more so
because no houses nor farm-buildings are visible, as these are hidden
amongst the trees on the margins of the forest lands. Then this long tract
of beautifully wooded and watered country is fringed on its western border
by the varied mountain crests of the Western Ghauts, while on the east it
is traversed by the Hemavati river which is fed by the numerous streams,
and brawling burns which descend from the frontier hills. But though
Manjarabad has combinations of charms unrivalled in their kind, we must
not forget that an examination of of them by no means exhausts the scenery
of the Ghauts, for, on the north-western border of Mysore are the falls of
Gairsoppa. Often had I read descriptions of them which I once thought must
have been too highly coloured, but when I visited the falls some years ago
I found that the accounts I had read were not only far below the reality,
but that the most important parts of the wonderful combinations of the
scenes had either never been noted, or been quite inadequately recorded.
I do not now profess to give anything approaching an adequate account of
them. Nor indeed do I think it would be possible to do so. But what
follows will I think at least be of advantage in directing the attention
of the traveller to the best way of observing the varied scenes, and
noting the wonderful musical combinations, which are to be heard at these
marvellously beautiful falls.

The falls of Gairsoppa are on the Sarawati, or Arrowborn[6] river, which,
rising in the western woodland region of Northern Mysore, flows north-west
for about sixty-two miles, and then, turning abruptly to the west,
precipitates its waters over cliffs about 860 feet in height. When the
river is at the full in the south-west monsoon an immense body of water
rushes over the precipice, and from calculations made by some engineers,
and which are recorded in the book at the Travellers' Bungalow, the volume
and height of fall at that time, if taken together, would give a force of
water about equal to that of Niagara. But, however that may be, a glanc