What may be called true sunstroke is less common, and beyond the bare fact that the sun’s rays are capable of acting in this way, we are really quite without any explanation of its causation, as the condition may be brought about by comparatively short exposure, without any coincident exhaustion or fatigue; and may occur at times when the temperature of the atmosphere is by no means excessive. It is probable that over-stimulation of the nerves of sight by glare may have something to say in the matter, as it has been found that persons at rest in the open, in the Tropics, have their temperature less raised if they wear darkly tinted spectacles than others similarly situated, but having the eyes unprotected. This cannot, however, be the complete explanation, as it appears to be exposure, not of the face, but of the skull and back-bone, to the direct rays of the sun that constitutes the real danger, and it is not the forehead but the back of the head and temples that are most sensitive to the influence of “insolation.” So many unexpected discoveries have been made lately of forms of light whose very existence was, but a little time ago, unsuspected, that the matter is less inexplicable than it was before the discovery of the Röntgen rays made us familiar with light vibrations capable of passing easily through substances we have been accustomed to regard as quite opaque. The rays of the sun do not, of course, include vibrations of that particular description, or none of our ordinary wooden photographic apparatus would be of any use to us; but they may well have amongst them other vibrations, as yet not identified, which are capable of passing through the tissues and affecting the brain and spinal cord beneath; and no other suggestion appears capable of explaining the extraordinary way in which a few instants of exposure of the unprotected head to an Indian sun suffices to cause a sharp headache; as the effect is utterly inexplicable on any mere assumption of rise of temperature. It is quite a mistake, for example, to think that it is safe to cross one’s garden hatless, from the house to one’s stables, in the heat of an Indian day. One is not of course likely to be stretched out in a state of insensibility by so short an exposure, but you may easily earn a splitting headache which will last you the rest of the day; and from the time the sun is well over the horizon, till it again sinks beneath it, it is a purposeless imprudence to be found in the open with the head inadequately protected.

The selection of a suitable headgear for tropical wear is a matter of the utmost importance, and no material appears to be as effective in intercepting the peculiar vibrations which cause sunstroke, whatever they may be, as the pith of the solah, or Indian rush, from which the well-known tropical sun-hat is made.

Next to this in efficiency, I think, comes felt, and after this cork; but the latter material, when adequately supported to give sufficient strength, is really too heavy for comfortable wear; and if any concession to “smartness” is desired, stiffened felt is to be preferred, such as, for example, the well-known “Elgin helmet.”

But those who are wise, will abjure such compromises, and stick to pith, either in the ordinary mushroom form, or in that of the admirable “Cawnpore tent club” hats. Let it be freely admitted, that either contrivance is as ugly as well may be, but it is better to keep one’s brain clear for the appreciation of artistic beauty elsewhere, than to have them permanently muddled for this and other less æsthetic purposes in the effort to maintain a becoming exterior. Further, the sun is never more treacherous than just after it rises, and before it sets; because just then the nearly horizontal rays can reach the temples and other parts of the head that are well protected by any ordinary sun hat when it is higher above the horizon. In fact, as long as the sun is above it, it is a mistake to go abroad in European head gear, though in the morning and evening a soft felt hat, which can be bent and manipulated so as to shield the particular side exposed to the sun, is better than a solah hat, which of course cannot be adapted in this way. For really tropical climates, in the heat of the day, no other material but solah pith is at all adequate; but in South Africa and other sub-tropical climates a less clumsy and more comfortable covering for the head may be safely adopted, and for such purposes the broad-leafed Boer felt hat, so familiar to us of late in the drawings in the Illustrated London News, and Graphic, is hard to beat. I do not of course refer to the melodramatic brigand arrangement that, in feeble imitation of our late foes, was inflicted on the Imperial Yeomen by the would-be smart military male milliner, but to the real article, as worn by the real Boer and, it may be added, by everyone else who has work to do in the open in that climate, after he has been out there sufficiently long to have discarded the “helmet,” decked out with a pugaree finished off with a pair of long tails down the back, with which his London Colonial outfitter has probably provided him. The true Boer hat is an admirable example of adaptation of costume to special climatic exigencies; but though they are, I presume, manufactured somewhere in Europe to suit the Colonial market, I doubt if such a thing can be purchased in England, for as is well known the English manufacturer insists on his customers taking his own designs, and those who would consult their own requirements must needs deal elsewhere. Hence, if you are bound to “the Cape” you will be wise to defer providing yourself with a hat till you land, for the English outfitter’s muslin-bedecked helmet is a natural object of derision to those who know what is really wanted, and no extra protection is wanted under the double awning of the big liner that takes you out to your new home.

The true Boer hat has an ample crown, a very broad brim, and is not looped up at one side, as anyone but a fool can see that to do so is to make the hat suitable only for a one-sided world, in which the inhabitants never require to deviate from a course carefully laid so that the sun is always kept on the “brimmery” side of the hat. The Mexican “sombrero,” worn everywhere in sub-tropical America, is practically identical, and the hat worn by the American “rough riders,” though not quite so absurd as those of our Yeomen, is another good example of the mischievous effects of the childish military craving for “smartness.”

In India and elsewhere in the Tropics, a broad-leafed felt of this sort is very useful and comfortable for wear in the early morning and evening, but is quite inadequate for use in the middle of the day during the hot weather, though at other seasons a less cumbrous head covering than the big felt hat may be safely adopted; but, however cool the air, it is at no season safe to go abroad in India in the ordinary small hat of Europe.

Children are strongly influenced by the sun in two ways: they are in the first place enormously benefited by getting plenty of his health-giving light; in the second their little skulls appear to be remarkably easily penetrated by the y or z rays that cause sunstroke. Hence, even in the hottest weather, it is a mistake to shut them up in the darkened rooms so dear to their mother’s hearts. It is as well, of course, to keep children out of the direct rays of the sun during the day, more especially as it is difficult to ensure that they will always keep their hats on; but it is a mistake to curtail their morning and evening walks on account of the sun being above the horizon, though it must be admitted that the greatest vigilance is required to insure their keeping their hats on their heads.

Ladies resident in hot climates as a rule suffer far more from the want of the sun and light than from serious sunstroke, their greater sensitiveness to discomfort rendering them more apt to shrink too much from light and air in hot weather; but on the other hand their desire to maintain a pleasing appearance not infrequently leads to their suffering from the earlier and milder symptoms of insolation. Owing to their not unnatural objection to the admittedly unbecoming forms of head-gear which alone can insure safety. The singular preference for the unfitness of things which appears everywhere to characterise the ritual of Society, and demands that a man must go a-hunting in English winter weather in a tall silk hat, ordains that in India ladies shall pay their conventional calls between the hours of noon and two p.m., when to go abroad in a hat at all in keeping with their costume is hazardous in the extreme. Unfortunately, out of the larger towns, closed carriages are possessed by comparatively few, and the result is that an umbrella, unsteadily held by the native groom behind her, is all that there is to shield her head from a tropical sun at the meridian.

That severe headache, lassitude and other less easily defined nervous symptoms should follow such expeditions is not surprising, and undoubtedly if a closed carriage be unobtainable, for a lady to attempt a “round of calls” at the conventional hours, is a proceeding involving such a real risk that it should never be attempted, and calls should be postponed to the cool of the evening. Moreover, even for occasions when not equipped in full uniform, a safe head covering for ladies living in the Tropics has yet to be popularised. Those who are wise enough to determine to be out of doors daily, and to take a sufficiency of exercise, will find it best to wear a hat of the same pattern as those worn by their husbands and children, and to entirely abjure the absurd constructions of pith, fashioned in imitation of English head gear, which have of late years appeared on the scene. Some years ago an admirable pith head gear, shaped somewhat on the lines of the “Gainsborough hat,” enjoyed a well-deserved popularity, and it is a pity ladies cannot see their way to adhere to it; as it not only afforded excellent shade and protection, but when tastefully bemuslined was by no means unbecoming in its obvious adaptation to its surroundings. Recently, however, fashion has chosen as its model the “sailor hat,” and frankly, inartistic as is the European original, the fantastic deformity of the Anglo-Indian pith imitation requires to be seen to be appreciated. It may be doubted if human ingenuity could shape the material to a worse form, and it is wiser for a lady to keep out of the sun altogether than to trust herself in the open wearing only such an ill-contrived head covering.