s are
perfectly level.)

[Sketch of horse with "travail"].

Palanquins, carried like sedan-chairs, between two animals--one going
before the other in shafts--are in use in various countries; but I am not
aware that explorers have ever properly tried them. Their advantage would
lie in combining the convenience of a cart with much of the independence
of pack-horses. For whatever is lashed on a pack-saddle must be securely
tied up; it is therefore severely compressed, and cannot be taken out en
route. But with a cart or a palanquin there is no such inconvenience:
things may be quickly thrown into them or taken out; pockets and drawers
may be fitted up; and the palanquin would afford some shelter in rain. I
should think it would be well worth while to try one of these
contrivances. It might be made en route; first accustoming the animals,
when carrying their packs, to walk between long shafts, then, after some
days, taking the load off their saddles, and lashing them on to the
shafts. If all went well, a regular palanquin might be constructed with
legs, to be let down when the animals are off-packed, and on which it
might stand until ready to be again carried onwards. Half-a-dozen
palanquins in file would make a pretty, and, I should think, a manageable
and effective caravan. Asses ought to be able to carry them well; a
couple of asses would probably carry a greater weight than a single
pack-horse, and would give no greater trouble; if so, their hardiness
would be invaluable.

SWIMMING.

General Remarks.--Rate of Swimming. People swim much more slowly than is
commonly supposed. In races between first-rate swimmers, for distances of
300 yards and upwards, the average pace of two miles an hour is barely,
if at all, exceeded.

Learning to Swim.--A good way of teaching a person to swim, is a
modification of that adopted at Eton. The teacher may sit in a punt or on
a rock, with a stout stick of 6 or 10 feet in length, at the end of which
is a cord of 4 feet or so, with loops. The learner puts himself into the
loops; and the teacher plays him, as a fisherman would play a fish, in
water that is well out of his depth: he gives him just enough support to
keep him from drowning. After six or a dozen lessons, many boys require
no support at all, but swim about with the rope dangling slack about
them. When a boy does this, he can be left to shift for himself. The art
of swimming far is acquired, like the art of running far,