untain appeared at some period to have burst into
fragments; and for the distance of about a mile it formed the apparent
ruins of a city of giants. Rocks as large as churches lay piled one upon
the other forming long dark alleys and caves that would have housed
some hundreds of men.

The effect was perfectly fairylike, as the faint silver light of the
sun, mellowed by the screen of tree tops, half-lighted up, these silent
caves. The giant stems of the trees sprang like tall columns from the
foundations of the rocks that shadowed them with their dense foliage.
Two or three families of 'Cyclops' would not have been out of place in
this spot; they were just the class of people that one would expect to
meet.

Late in the afternoon we arrived at the long-talked-of village of
Oomanoo, about eighteen miles from our last encampment. It was a
squalid, miserable place, of course, and nothing was obtainable. Our
coolies had not tasted food since the preceding evening; but, by good
luck, we met a travelling Moorman, who had just arrived at the village
with a little rice to exchange with the Veddahs for dried venison. As
the villagers did not happen to have any meat to barter, we purchased
all the rice at an exorbitant price; but it was only sufficient for half
a meal for each servant and coolie, when equally divided.

Fortunately, we killed four snipe and two doves these were added to
our last two tins of provisions, which were 'hotch potch,' and stewed
altogether. This made a good dinner. We had now nothing left but our
biscuits and groceries. All our hams and preserved meats were gone, and
we only had one meal on that day.

Nov. 27.--Our horses had eaten nothing but grass for many days; this,
however, was excellent, and old Jack looked fat, and was as hardy as
ever. We now discharged our Veddah guides, and took on others from
Oomanoo. These men told us that we were only four miles from the
Batticaloa road, and with great glee we started at break of day,
determined to breakfast on arrival at the road.

The old adage of 'Many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip' was here fully
exemplified. Four miles! We rode twenty-five miles without drawing the
rein once! and at length we then did reach the road; that is to say, a
narrow track of grass, which is the track to Batticaloa for which we
had been steering during our journey. A native but in this wilderness
rendered the place worthy of a name; it is therefore known upon the
Governme