ection, and for the other six in the opposite direction. At the
period of their changing, terrific gales are frequent--gales such as we,
in our temperate regions, never dream of.

What is termed the rainy season in India is the result of the south-west
monsoon, which for four months in the year deluges the regions within
its influence with rain.

The commencement of the south-west monsoon is described as being sublime
and awful beyond description. Before it comes, the whole country is
pining under the influence of long-continued drought and heat; the
ground is parched and rent; scarcely a blade of verdure is to be seen
except in the beds of rivers, where the last pools of water seem about
to evaporate, and leave the land under the dominion of perpetual
sterility. Man and beast pant for fresh air and cool water; but no cool
breeze comes. A blast, as if from the mouth of a furnace, greets the
burning cheek; no blessed drops descend; the sky is clear as a mirror,
without a single cloud to mitigate the intensity of the sun's withering
rays. At last, on some happy morning, small clouds are seen on the
horizon. They may be no bigger than a man's hand, but they are blessed
harbingers of rain. To those who know not what is coming, there seems
at first no improvement on the previous sultry calms. There is a sense
of suffocating heat in the atmosphere; a thin haze creeps over the sky,
but it scarcely affects the broad glare of the sun.

At length the sky begins to change. The horizon becomes black. Great
masses of dark clouds rise out of the sea. Fitful gusts of wind begin
to blow, and as suddenly to cease; and these signs of coming tempest
keep dallying with each other, as if to tantalise the expectant
creation. The lower part of the sky becomes deep red, the gathering
clouds spread over the heavens, and a deep gloom is cast upon the earth
and sea.

And now the storm breaks forth. The violent gusts swell into a
continuous, furious gale. Rain falls, not in drops, but in broad
sheets. The black sea is crested with white foam, which is quickly
swept up and mingled with the waters above; while those below heave up
their billows, and rage and roar in unison with the tempest. On the
land everything seems about to be uprooted and hurled to destruction.
The tall straight cocoa-nut trees are bent over till they almost lie
along the ground; the sand and dry earth are whirled up in eddying
clouds, and everything movable