Our route lay through tea, coffee and cocoa plantations, and richly cultivated country to Tjiandjoer--a thriving little mountain town, with an air of prosperity and progress,--where we joined the train at 9.30 a.m. for Padalarang. Here, at 11.10 a.m., a change was made to the express from Batavia, and Maos was reached at 5.46 p.m. It had been our intention to stay overnight at Bandoeng, strongly recommended by Mr. Gantvoort, the courteous manager of the Hotel des Indes in Batavia, but we pressed on with the intention of devoting more time to the eastern end of the island. It was well we did so, for, shortly after leaving Padalarang, rain began to fall in torrents, and the afternoon and night were passed in a severe thunderstorm which was to cause us delay. Part of the line was washed away near Moentilan, and our train was over three hours late in reaching Djocjakarta on the following day. At Maos, there is a commodious, well-built, comfortable passagrahan or government rest-house, where four of us ate our meal in solemn silence, until a query by ourselves when the coffee arrived broke the icy reserve of the quartette, and opened the way for an interesting conversation. It is customary to make fun of English reserve, but our observation convinced us that the Dutch are no whit behind us in that respect where fellow-Dutch are concerned. On the other hand, nothing could have exceeded the kindness and courtesy with which we were treated from one end of Java to the other. Speaking no Dutch, we had looked forward to many tedious days, but our fears were needless, for, wherever we went, we met pleasant English-speaking Dutchmen, who proved the most entertaining of companions, and we take this opportunity of acknowledging the courteous assistance we received from time to time. On the score of not speaking Dutch or Malay, no English man or woman need be deterred from visiting Java. English is spoken at all the hotels, and though all the train conductors and stationmasters may not do so, there is sure to be an educated Dutchman or lady in the car to whom one may turn for help, which is always readily given. On one occasion, we had an interesting conversation with two native officials attached to the staff of the Sultan at Djocjakarta. These men had never left the island of Java, yet one of them read and spoke English with ready fluency and perfect accent. Next day, in spite of the delay caused by the wash-out on the line, we were able to reach Djocjakarta by tiffin time, and devoted the afternoon to the Hindu ruins at Parambanan. [Illustration: THE BARA BUDUR.] Hindu Ruins in Central Java.