as opposed to a rank bushy jungle. You enjoy the walk amazingly. The foot-track is bounded on both sides by dizzy steeps: through the intervals between the trees you can see the light mist-clouds and white vapours sailing on the zephyr far beneath your feet. After about an hour’s hard work, we suddenly come upon the Droog, and clambering over the ruined parapet of stone—the only part of it that remains—stand up to catch a glimpse of scenery which even a jaded lionizer would admire.
The rock upon which we tread falls with an almost perpendicular drop of four thousand feet into the plains. From this eyrie we descry the houses of Coimbatore, the windings of the Bhawany, and the straight lines of road stretching like ribbons over the glaring yellow surface of the low land. A bluish mist clothes the distant hills of Malabar, dimly seen upon the horizon in front. Behind, on the far side of the mighty chasm, the white bungalows of Coonoor glitter through the green trees, or disappear behind the veil of fleecy vapour which floats along the sunny mountain tops. However hypercritically disposed, you can find no fault with this view; it has beauty, variety, and sublimity to recommend it.
If an inveterate sight-seer, you will be persuaded by the usual arguments to visit Castle Hill, an eminence about three miles to the east of Coonoor, for the purpose of enjoying a very second rate prospect. Perhaps you will also be curious to inspect a village inhabited by a villanous specimen of the Toda race, close to Mr. Davidson’s hotel. We shall not accompany you.
CHAPTER XV.
FIRST GLIMPSE OF “OOTY.”
The distance from Coonoor to the capital of the Neilgherries is about ten miles, over a good road. We propose, however, to forsake the uninteresting main line, and, turning leftwards, to strike into the bye way which leads to the Khaity Falls.
Khaity is a collection of huts tenanted by the hill people, and in no ways remarkable, except that it has given a name to a cascade which “everybody goes,” &c.
After six miles of mountain and valley in rapid and unbroken succession, we stand upon the natural terrace which supports the little missionary settlement, and looking over the deep ravine that yawns at our feet, wonder why the “everybody” above alluded to, takes the trouble of visiting the Khaity falls. They are formed by a thin stream which dashes over a gap in the rock, and disperses into spray before it has time to reach the basin below. As usual with Neilgherry cascades they only want water.
Now as our disappointment has brought on rather a depressed and prosy state of mind, we will wile away the tedium of the eight long miles which still separate us from our destination, with a little useful discourse upon subjects historical and geographical connected with the Neilgherries.