s are
absent, nowhere in all Burma have I seen butterflies more numerous or
more beautiful than here. It is singular, also, to notice how human
habitations will attract certain forms of animal life, and in some
mysterious manner, though the surrounding forest may be otherwise
deserted, pigeons and doves and the various kinds of crow quickly
install themselves in the neighbourhood of a newly-established
settlement or camp.

It is impossible in two short chapters to describe the infinite
variety and charm of these Burmese forests--the rushing mountain
torrents, the sweeping rivers, and noble waterfalls; the sluggish
streams, which reflect the glories of the surrounding forest; its
teeming life, its solitude, and the wonderful effects of light and
colour; but perhaps I have said enough to convey to you some idea of
that wealth of exuberant beauty which has forced upon me the
conclusion that nothing in all the world is quite so beautiful as a
tropical forest.

So far I have not given you any example of the many adventures which
may befall a traveller in such wilds, but they are naturally of
frequent occurrence.

Often while painting, and quite unarmed, I have found myself in
unpleasantly close proximity to wild beasts of many kinds, and on
more than one occasion I have narrowly escaped the fatal bite of some
deadly snake which I have killed. Every one has a natural horror of
poisonous snakes, but sometimes an adventure with them has its element
of amusement. I remember an instance where one of my companions,
having come into camp from his work in the forest, lay down outside
his tent to rest, and, the better to enjoy it, took off his
riding-boots and loosened his breeches at the knee. While his "tiffin"
was being prepared he went to sleep, but presently awoke with a
horrible sensation of something lying cold against his thigh. To his
alarm, he discovered this to be a large cobra, which had sought
shelter from the sun. Remaining quite still, he called his native
servant, and explained the position, and the snake was soon secured
and dispatched, while my friend suffered nothing worse than a fright.

Though so docile as a rule when tamed, elephants in their wild state
are most dangerous, and I have heard of many narrow escapes from them
in Burma. Panthers, also, though shy of human beings, are fierce when
at bay, and I have been told that a scratch from their claws nearly
always results in fatal blood-poisoning.

[Illu