The solitariness of my position, only enlivened by the song of eighteen merry paddlers, pulling from morning till night, at the rate of forty or fifty miles a day, against a rapid stream, was perhaps the worst part of the story. The scenery, if not positively devoid of picturesque beauty, wearied me from its monotonous character. Sand-banks, woods, and hills, unvaried by the residence of man, or the slightest token of civilization, constituted its leading features. Occasionally a boat might be encountered, but, excepting from the rude salutation of the wild crew, the screaming of wild fowl, and the loud crash of falling banks, prostrating lofty trees in the bosom of the river, not a sound was heard to relieve the pervading solitude. But, altogether, the velocity of the trip, with the désagrément of limited accommodation, was a good exchange for the comforts of a budgerow, and the tediousness of its pace. Passing the healthy and pretty stations of Tezpore and Bishnath, I arrived at the mouth of the little stream Dikhoo, in nine days, and, mounting an elephant, rode through a dense tree and grass jungle to Seebsaugur, distant twelve miles from the Burrampooter. It was a bitterly raw, cold, wet day; but a blazing fire on the floor in the snug reed and grass cottage of an acquaintance, soon erased from my memory the inconvenience of the previous ten days' exposure. In the rains, the Burrampooter river resembles a sea, extending for many miles over the country. In the dry season it will be found in many places more than a mile wide. The current in Upper Assam, above Dibroo Ghur, is much more rapid than the Ganges river, and far more dangerous; from the river being strewed with immense trees, which are whirled down the stream with awful impetuosity, threatening instant destruction to the boat so unfortunate as to come in contact with them. For this reason, the canoes of the country being more manageable, and even if filled with water, too buoyant to sink, much less risk is incurred by travelling in them than in the comfortable budgerow, or large native boat of Western India, roofed with straw. The canoe has also another advantage, in case of a storm, as it can in a few minutes be dragged on shore and remain in perfect safety till the toofan has passed over. The confinement, however, and constant reclining posture are almost unbearable in the hot weather; and there is a painful sense of insecurity from the streams and rivers in many parts of Assam swarming with crocodiles. Natives, when bathing, are not unfrequently seized by crocodiles, and I have heard that one of these amphibious monsters has been known to seize a paddler unsuspiciously sleeping in the front part of the boat: which is not improbable, as the sides of a canoe are only six inches or a foot above the water. Such occurrences, however, are too rare to justify the fears that are entertained; but their rarity, considering the great numbers of crocodiles