and held it in the wind as it passed through the house. Immediately, from 91°, it rose to 100°. Flowers upon the table withered and turned black and crisp; the sides of books curled up; clothes seemed scorching to the skin, and we were glad to hide in a sheltered corner to escape its power. Toward evening the land-wind gave way to the cool and refreshing sea-breeze, and we seemed to live again. These winds, happily, do not blow more than a week or two at a time; they then intermit, to commence again after a short interval. During their continuance any exertion is made by Europeans with great reluctance.
As the night only is devoted to travelling in Southern India, we continued in the bungalow through the day. At sundown, having repacked our boxes, and despatched the cavady-man and cook, we took leave of the bungalow attendants, and resumed our journey, setting out on foot.
The road was of British construction, hard, red, and at this season, extremely dusty. The country around presented the aspect of a desert, dotted here and there with trees, and with an occasional village, almost hid within the shade of its tope of cocoanut, palmyra, and tamarind-trees, from amid which the blackened pagoda
