n
thousand miles from England by way of the Suez Canal, which is the
most direct route. As we proceed with our story of Ceylon, the
relevance of these statistics will become more apparent.

The surface of the island is picturesquely diversified by hills,
valleys, and plains. Its highest mountain, Pidarutalagalla, exceeds
eight thousand feet, while its most famous one, Adam's Peak, rises a
little over seven thousand feet above sea level. This is a lonely
elevation, springing abruptly into a sharp cone from the bosom of the
low hills which surround it, and from out of a wilderness of tropical
jungle. Few mountains of its height require more persistent effort to
reach the apex. Serious and even fatal accidents have many times
occurred among the pilgrim hosts, who have been drawn hither from
great distances for the purpose of prostrating themselves before the
alleged footprint. The ascent from the Maskeliya side is much easier
than that known as the "Pilgrim's Path" from Ratnapura, but the latter
is considered to be the proper one by which the truly devout should
seek the holy spot. Upon its summit ceaseless prayers and praises have
ascended for thousands of years. Is it an instinct of man, one pauses
to ask, which leads him to ascend such a height that he may seem to
be a little nearer to the God he worships? Besides the daily visitors
in the month of April, crowds of pilgrims from thousands of miles away
in northern India, Persia, and Arabia come hither annually to bow down
before a crude indentation of the rocky summit. The natives have a
legend that Buddha ascended to Heaven from this mountain, but other
religionists substitute the name of Adam; hence the designation which
it bears. There is an irregular cavity in the rock supposed to have
been made by Buddha's or Adam's foot, whichever may best accord with
the pilgrim's faith. But surely the foot of nothing less than a human
giant or an elephant would be nearly so large as this misshapen,
so-called footprint. It is curious how far zealous fanatics will go in
the line of self-deception, and out of what flimsy material fictitious
legends can be constructed. Dreamy orientals ascend this mountain
solely for devotional purposes, but the western traveler comes up
hither with infinite labor to enjoy the grand view from such an
elevation, and to see the sun rise in all its glory. He comes also to
witness a remarkable natural phenomenon, which once seen is never
forgotten. As