information which we needed, and the loan of a map of his district, from which we made a copy, with the names of the villages and towns through which we might pass, we recrossed our waterless ford, and prepared to set out for Arnee, a town twenty miles distant from Arcot.
Arnee.
At dusk we left the bungalow in our palankeens, and again crossed the Palar, now sombre, with its silent waste stretching away in the twilight between its curtains of drooping foliage. Our road ran southward through cultivated fields, and was beautifully wooded. The moon soon set, and we went on our way by the light of the musaljee's torch. The glancing of the light upon overhanging trees, the monotonous chorus of the bearers, the silence of night, the soft warmth of the air, combined to produce sensations peculiarly Oriental and soothing. It became apparent, however, after a while, that our booies (bearers) were at fault. Instead of the even road, they were traversing fields and trenches, much to the discomposure of the riders. At last, they confessed that they could
