sketching expeditions in the afternoons were pleasant forms of recreation in between visits paid to the Eurasians, choir-practices, services, and superintending the clothing of the orphans. There was a boat at that time on the Wyacondah Channel. Colonel Byng and his wife made up some parties for expeditions upon the old canal. The caladiums, pampas grass, and wild vegetation, intertwined with masses of luxuriant creepers by the water's edge, gave excellent subjects for sketches. It was very warm under the shelter of the banks, and the water was muddy and uninviting. At the upper end of the canal there was a branch that was nothing more than a tributary stream. One afternoon we pushed our way up this stream and were startled by seeing a snake swimming across. A land-snake moves through the water with the same serpentine motion that it takes on land and its head is raised above the surface. The presence of the snake directed our attention to the tangled bushes on the banks. It was easy to distinguish more than one ophidian form coiled upon the branches that hung over the stream. A story was called to mind that three men boating on the Wyacondah had encountered a snake at this very spot and had rashly hit at it with an oar. The cobra is endowed with plenty of courage when attacked. The snake leaped into the boat and simultaneously two of the men leaped out of it. The third, who could not swim, armed himself with a stretcher and broke the back of the creature before it could fasten its fangs into him. The story told on the spot with the snake passing our bows resulted in a unanimous vote to turn back without delay.
The native has an even greater dislike and fear of snakes than the European. The following letter was sent to an Eastern paper for insertion:
'Sir,—I should like to bring to notice of public through widely scattered columns of your valuable journal a per-
