been most successful, having landed many large mahseer with but little trouble. We listened with keen interest, for here was the local knowledge and experience which no sportsman, whether after fin, fur, or feather, can afford to disregard. Cautiously the question was put, knowing that often these matters are jealously guarded secrets, but "what bait did our friend use with such glorious results?" And the reply came with the innocent smile of a child, "Dynamite." Sadly, but firmly, the fishing paraphernalia was packed up, and our journey continued, with the feeling that the deadliest of spoons could never compete with the cataclysmic "baits" of this Nepali Isaac Walton.
From this point a very picturesque march of about twelve miles along a river gorge brings the traveller to Dokkaphedi, where a fresh phase of the journey commences. This is the ascent leading to the first of two steep passes which are the natural ramparts guarding the approach to the Valley of Nepal. Crossing a hot and glaring river-bed at Bhimpedi—one mile from Dokkaphedi—a steep and
