At last off we started along the regular path to Chogga. The change was most extraordinary; the fog had already cleared away; we were walking along a narrow winding path cut through the jungle. On each side of us extended as far as the eye could reach a vast plain covered with laurels and shrubs of a bright green, interspersed here and there with large flowers of a brilliant crimson or scarlet, and more rarely with trees of a stunted growth, on which numbers of little tiny doves were cooing their greeting to the sun. The bushes, which we call low jungle, grow to four or five feet in height, and so thickly that it is impossible to pass through them, except where a path has been cut, or where a natural glade or opening occurs. We walked on looking out anxiously for some opening, as we knew we should find nothing worth firing at in the open plain. Suddenly, on turning an angle in the path, we saw at the distance of about a quarter of a mile on the right a clear space with a few large trees in it. Amid the branches sat fifteen or twenty pea-fowl, and on the open glade were as many more feeding. Shortly afterwards we came to a smaller one, which enabled us to separate, so that we might approach the pea-fowl in different directions; however we could not get within shot, which we much regretted. But I own I was not quite so eager in pushing through the jungle as I should have been the next day; it was quite novel to me, and I could not help thinking every now and then of the dreaded cobra or the scarcely less dreaded tiger. Indeed, of the last I had a fearful reminder before I rejoined Mr. L. In a small space of clear ground I came suddenly upon the skeleton of a man, evidently lately killed, for much of the flesh was still adhering to the bones. Probably it was the poor driver of whom we had heard. I had quite lost sight of Mr. L., but presently heard him shout from some distance behind me. I made my way towards him, and soon reached a small paddy-field (rice-field). Here was a small bull of a very dark colour, who did not seem at all pleased with our intrusion: he looked at us for a minute, and then came galloping towards us, shaking his head and tail in his anger. My two servants called out that it was a wild cow, and crouched down behind me. I felt a little nervous, but faced the animal, and drew a pistol from my belt; however, as he came near, I saw a small piece of cord fastened to one of his horns, and therefore knew it was not an "unner" or wild cow. I desired the men to shout, and myself did the same, running towards the animal and waving my hat. He stopped a moment hesitating, and then, as I rushed forward, he threw up his tail in the air and scampered off, very much to my relief.