the spring and heard its history. The Hindoos consider it a standing miracle performed by the god Seeta, and therefore most sacred; and they not unfrequently point to it in confirmation of their religion. This lake is walled in, and surrounded by temples dedicated to the god of the spring. The lake forms the lowest part of a small circular valley surrounded by low hills, and the whole scene is one of great beauty. The water is too hot to keep your hand in, but not hot enough to boil an egg. After examining this wonderful spring, and observing the poor heathens at their devotions, as they laved themselves with the water, and prayed vociferously, we strolled off for a walk over the green fields and hills-just the sort of delightful scrambling for a picnic, as you may fancy.

On our return we all sat down to dinner.

"What a pretty spot this is!" said Mrs. Ogilvie.

"But rather dull to live here, I should think," remarked Lieutenant Wood.

Plenty of tiger-hunting, I'll be bound," said Captain Wilson.

"Are there tigers here ?" asked Grace, anxiously.

"Oh, hundreds, I dare say," said young

Ensign Fanshawe, newly arrived from England. "They would like to make a meal of you, Grace; you would be a choice morsel for them, though scarcely a mouthful.”

"Hush!" said the Colonel, who saw she was really frightened. "I don't think there are any near here."

66 Hallo! there goes Carlo the vicious, scampering off with the contents of my plate," shouted the Ensign, who gave chase, shaking his fist at the retreating Major.

We all laughed heartily, for Major Carlo, not caring one whit for his threat, gravely finished the Ensign's dinner, when he had arrived at a safe and convenient distance, and then sat watching us, doubtless wondering whom he should victimise next.

Speaking of tigers," said the Colonel, "reminds me of our old friends the jackals. Have you learned to like them better, Grace ?" "No," she answered: "they make such unearthly yells!"

"So they do," said Captain Wilson. "But that brings to my remembrance a good story. You remember Lieutenant Foote, Colonel ? Well; he had just come out from England, and was terribly afraid of the jackal tribe. Some of the junior officers determined to play

a trick on him. One night, after a weary day's hunting, when Foote was tired and sleepy, some of his mess crept into his tent, and quietly tied a stout cord to his foot while he was sleeping. Creeping outside again, they commenced to pull with all their might, making the most hideous yells imaginable. Of course, he soon awoke, and in the pitchy darkness, not being able to perceive what was the matter, concluded that he was being carried off bodily by the jackals, and roared out lustily, determining, at least, not to be devoured quietly, Murder! Murder! Help! help!

The jackals!'

"Hallo, there! what's all this noise about?' shouted the officer in the next tent.

"Murder! The jackals are dragging me away; they're killing me! Help!'

"He roared so loudly that the whole mess was aroused by his cries, and came bursting in, with lights and sticks and swords and guns, ready to do battle with the enemy; when, lo! there lay the gallant lieutenant on his back on the floor of the tent; tied to his foot was the rope, and outside the mischievous youngsters tugging away with all their might. He was well laughed at for his fear, and took the first opportunity of exchanging into another