One day we took full ten hours to go twelve miles. When we came to the end of our stage we found we had to encamp for the night in the low scrub of the forest, with stagnant water all around us. There was a hut at the place with two native policemen to help travellers, and we were told by them that there had been for some days in the neighbourhood what is called "a rogue elephant"--an elephant which, for some reason known only in elephant councils has been driven out of the herd, and is so enraged by his expulsion that he is ready to run amuck at every person and animal he sees. This was not pleasant intelligence. We found native carts at the place, ready to proceed in the morning to a market to be held at the foot of the hills; and after a very uncomfortable night, much disturbed by the cries of the beasts of the wilderness, we set out, the people shouting to scare the elephant, which, though ready for mischief, is frightened by noise. We saw no trace of him. When the day was well advanced we reached a rest-house close to the hills, with a brawling stream behind it, with which our children as well as ourselves were delighted, one of them clapping his hands and saying, "Water clear and bright!" We had our first and rather perilous hill journey the next day, but my account of it and subsequent journeys in the mountains must be reserved for another time. We went to Kumaon by the most direct route through Futtygurh and Bareilly. We returned by a longer route _via_ Meerut and Delhi. Our difficulties on our way back were somewhat different, but they were quite as great as on our upward journey. Some of the streams we had to cross were not fordable, and we had great difficulty in getting ourselves ferried over. A few nights were spent in exceeding discomfort, our carts not having come up with our tents, and we were shelterless and supperless--rather, if I may coin such a word, dinnerless. One night cover was got for my wife and children, but a missionary brother and myself remained out all night, with no possibility of obtaining rest, as a pack of jackals were gorging themselves on the carcase of a bullock, and making the most hideous noises. As the night was cold, and we had no bedding, it was perhaps well the jackals were there, as otherwise we might have been tempted to lie down on the bare ground, which we could not have done with safety to our health. When once we got to the Trunk Road, which we had from Delhi to Benares, our travelling difficulties were at an end, and we got on most comfortably.