ture at night never exceeding 80 even in the
hottest season. The bungalow, which stands about 1,000 feet above sea
level, is a comfortable wooden house, containing a sitting-room and
three good bed-rooms. It stands on the sheer mountain side, the jungle
for 100 feet or so below it having been completely cleared, and
replaced by a pretty garden, built in five terraces one below the
other, and containing roses, honeysuckles, sweetbriar, and many
English flowers that would not live a day on the plains below.

It was barely daybreak the next morning ere we were awoke by H., and,
hastily swallowing a biscuit and cup of coffee, we set out for the
summit. Our road for the first half-mile lay through the old coffee
clearing, and the path was easy enough, which was, perhaps, lucky, as
everything was enveloped in a dense mist issuing from the valley
below, which rendered objects quite invisible ten yards off. By six
o'clock, however, the sun was shining so brightly that we were not
sorry to leave the open and enter the forest, from which we should
not now emerge until we attained the summit.

To arrive at the foot of the Sirapi mountain two distinct ridges must
be ascended and descended, and after an hour's hard walking (though
nothing to what we were coming to), we descended the second ridge,
into the valley, and arrived at the waterfall, which here descends the
mountain from a height of some 600 feet.

Seating ourselves on a huge black boulder overhanging the fall, we
paused here for a while to regain our breath, of which we should
shortly stand so much in need, for up till now the work had been
child's play compared with what was coming. The most striking thing
about this valley was its dense gloom, the huge forest-trees of
Tapang, Pli, and other kinds, excluding every ray of light, excepting
where here and there a bright patch of blue sky peeped in through the
thick trellis-work of branches overhead. Beautiful palms, kladiums,
and tree ferns, grew in profusion around us, and rare orchids filled
the air with their sweet perfumes. Strangely enough not a bird, or
living thing, was to be seen in this lovely glen, and the solemn
stillness which reigned, broken only by the plash of the water as it
fell from rock to rock, was almost oppressive.

We could have lingered here willingly for an hour, but our guide was
inexorable, and "forward" was again the cry. Climbing now commenced in
real earnest, for, leaving the old track altog