also of the girdle which she worked with her
own hands, always wore, and dropped to St.
Thomas the Apostle at her assumption; of the
hairs of St. Peter's beard, and part of his cross."

LOST IN THE JUNGLE.

WE sailed from England in May, 18—, and
after a prosperous voyage of four months, landed
at Bombay. Our destination was about a
hundred miles up the country, to Poonah, the
capital of the Deccan; but we remained at the
presidency for a few days, in the Queen's
barracks, and in that time managed to have a good
look round the fort and the bazaars. This was
our pastime by day; at night we wandered
over Dungaree-green, or danced at Portugee
Joe's. Everything appeared strange and
wonderful, more especially the different costumes of
the people, which made the scene keep ever
changing. For, here were to be seen, not only
natives, but also Chinese with their flat faces
and long tails; Parsees, in their white dresses
and shining oilskin caps; Beloochees from
Northern India, with their long black hair and
wild looks; Jews from Arabia; Caffirs from
the Cape; Bedouin Arabs; all mingling peaceably
together—to say nothing of the ram-sami
houses, their priests and fakeers, their dancing and
music, and the beggars who ride on horseback.

The first day's march was to Panwell, a village
about twelve miles from Bombay. It was the
commencement of the monsoon, so marching was
far from pleasant, especially as most of us soldiers
were without shoes, light clothing, beds, or
blankets. Some had bought white trousers on
landing, but they were the exception, not the
rule; however, what with the rain which poured
steadily down upon us, and the state of the road
which was then intersected about every quarter
of a mile by a water-course from two to four
feet deep, through which we had to wade, it was
of no consequence whether our trousers were
good, bad, or indifferent, and boots or shoes
would have been of little use.

As we always marched some three or four
hours, before daybreak, we could see but little
of the difficulties of our path, and being young
and strange to the country, we had no idea of the
danger we incurred in such weather. We laughed
at everything: at our tumbling in holes, at our
bad shoes, at our being drenched to the skin, at
some of our officers because they had bought
tatoos and rode, and at others because they
hadn't and walked. We took small care of
ourselves, eating and drinking whatever we fancied;
and I have often thought since, that, under
Providence, we owed to this very carelessness
the few casualties by sickness we had upon that
seven days' march; for, although we were nearly
eight hundred strong, fresh to the country, and,
above all, marching in rain and through water,
lying in wet clothes on damp ground, yet we
only lost two men from cholera. A deal of
credit was due, however, to the colonel, who
had always the commissary and cooks sent on
the night before, so that on our arrival in camp
a ration dram of arrack and a hot breakfast
awaited us.

The incident I am to relate, happened at
Khandalla, our third day's march, a place
well  known to all sportsmen in the Bombay
presidency. It is situated at the top of the
Bhore Ghaut, one of the range of mountains
which traverse Western India from north to
south, and which range at this part separates the
fertile Deccan from the no less fertile Concon.
The sea-breeze can be felt here in all its freshness:
and this, combined with the beautiful
romantic scenery, and the lofty rugged hills,
causes it to be not only the most picturesque,
but the most delightful encampment on the road.

It wanted still half an hour of daybreak when
we reached the bottom of the ghaut, the road
to the top of which is cut out of the side of the
mountain. It is a very steep zig-zag narrow path,
and we were cautioned to keep close in to our
right, as a step or two to the left would have taken
us a short cut down to the bottom. For a wonder,
it did not rain, and we had ascended about half
way when the sun rose; all above was distinctly
visible, but beneath all was still dark and
desolate. This, however, was not of long duration;
as the sun got higher and higher, the
shadows below rolled gradually away and
disappeared; then was exposed to our view, one of
the grandest and loveliest of scenes. On all sides
thousands of cascades, sparkling like crystal in
the sunbeams, leaped, dashing and dancing down
the face of the ghaut. The dewdrops on the
leaves glittered like diamonds. Everything looked
healthy and refreshing; trees were in blossom;
birds of the most beautiful plumage fluttered
around; and from far in front we could hear our
band playing a cheerful heart-stirring tune.
All this combined, was such a relief to the dull
dreary marching of the few hours previous, that
we stepped on with increased vigour, thinking
mighty little of the bad road we had traversed,
or the bad weather we had endured.

On arriving at our destination, it took us but
a short time to pitch our tents; of course, our
breakfast followed; and then some of us
started off for a stroll, while others lay down
for a nap. At dinner-time we were amused
by hearing one of our sergeants, who had just
returned from an exploring expedition, relate
his adventures in what was considered by his
audience rather a marvellous style. When he
finished, a laugh went round at his account of
the perils and hair-breadth escapes he had had;
which nettled him, for he threw down two rupees,
offering them to any man who would descend the
ravine in front, and gain the summit of a
precipice which was apparently not more than half
a mile from where we sat. This challenge was
promptly accepted by Pat Flanigan and Dennis
O'Hallaran, who, just as they were, without either
shoes or caps, started off to attempt the feat.

It was about two o'clock, and as the place
seemed so near, we fully expected that they
would not be gone more than a couple of
hours. We looked out for their appearance on
the appointed pinnacle; but three hours and