"And now that you know what might be seen on the road to Trincomalee," said Doctor Bronson, rising from his chair, "we will get ready for Newera-Ellia. We go there partly by rail, and partly by carriage-road; the train starts at seven o'clock, and leaves the main line at the first station from Kandy. The branch carries us to Gampola, and there we leave the train and take a carriage the rest of the way."
They were off the next morning, according to the programme; the railway only carried them a dozen or fifteen miles, and then they mounted what was called a coach, though it was really nothing more than a strong wagon, adapted to the rough roads of the mountains. The first part of the ride took them through a series of rice-fields, coffee plantations, and native villages of huts thatched with palm-leaves: they had an opportunity of seeing the native children playing before the doors in all the glory of nothing to wear.
NATIVE HOUSE AND CHILDREN.
Up and up went the road, and after a time the coffee estates gave way to tea plantations. The Doctor told the boys that coffee in Ceylon grows at any elevation between 1800 and 4000 feet, and tea flourishes between 4000 and 6000 feet. Tea culture in Ceylon is in its infancy, and most of those who have tried it have found it unprofitable; but they are persevering, and feel confident that it will turn out all right. The tea-planters say they have the same climate as Java, and if the latter can produce tea to advantage, there is no reason why it should not be profitable in Ceylon.
They had charming scenery all the way, and in many places it was unusually attractive. At one station (where they changed horses) the view from the veranda included a magnificent water-fall, where a good-sized river dashed in three streams over a precipice and united just below in a single torrent. As they rode along, the panorama of mountain and valley was constantly changing, and every minute seemed to have a new surprise in store for them.
They reached Newera-Ellia late in the afternoon, and were glad to surrender their seats in the uncomfortable coach. They had found the air growing steadily cooler as they approached their destination, and as the afternoon advanced it became necessary for them to don their thick overcoats. A fire was burning in the parlor of the hotel, and our friends were not at all reluctant to accept some of the heat it threw out.
There were carpets on the floors, and the walls of the house were made as though there was really a desire to exclude the cold rather than to welcome it. To the youths who had been so long in the tropics, and had struggled with the heat nearly every day and hour since their departure from Hong-Kong, it was rather a strange sensation to tread on soft carpets and sit around a cheerful fireplace, and they began to wonder whether they were really in Ceylon, or were dreaming.
We will let the boys tell the story of their visit to this part of the island, which they did in their next letter to friends at home. Following the plan they had found so effective, they divided the labor and devoted themselves to different parts of the description; they did it so skilfully, that when they had finished the letter it appeared to have been the effort of but one person instead of two. Perhaps they had a hint from Doctor Bronson, and possibly they did the whole work without assistance; quien sabe?