Here grew great hydrangeas 20 feet or more in height covered with flowers. Our only halts on the way down, and they were pretty frequent, were to pick off the leeches from our clothes. We took them off by tens at a time; they were very hungry, and varied in size from great striped horse-leeches to tiny ones as thin as a pin and able to penetrate anywhere. The track now left the upper terraces and descended very steeply towards the river, at times climbing sharply upwards again to avoid precipitous rocks and cliffs. During the descent, we gradually passed from the zone of the silver firs into that of the spruce, meeting the lovely _Picea Brunoniana_, which grew to an even greater size than the silver firs. Many of the trees were over 150 feet in height and without a branch for 70 feet or 80 feet; their stems too, were often 25 feet to 30 feet in circumference. This valley is so inaccessible that I am glad to think that these glorious forests can never be exploited commercially. After passing a great overhanging rock called Korabak, which is evidently much used as a halting-place, we descended steeply to the river, which now forms a series of cascades, leaping from rock to rock, a very remarkable spectacle. During the last 6 miles of its course, this river--the product of four large glacier streams--descends at the rate of 450 feet every mile. In places there were waterfalls of 20 feet and more, where the river hurled itself into seething cauldrons; in one place I saw it confined to a breadth of barely 5 feet. The junction of this river with the Arun is only 7,500 feet above the sea; just above the junction is a bridge which leads to the village of Kimonanga, a picturesque village situated on a terrace some 700 feet above the river and surrounded by some fine trees. In this valley we came across a few blue pines (_Pinus excelsa_) and also a large-leafed alder; near its junction with the Arun were many trees and orchids of a semi-tropical character. On the opposite side of the valley is a forest of evergreen oak trees, but as I was unable to cross the river I could not say to what species they belonged. On the way we passed many yellow raspberries on which we slaked our thirst. Our guide also dug up some of the roots of the wild arum to show us; it is a great flattish tuberous root, rather oval in shape. This the inhabitants dig up and, after allowing it to ferment by burying it in a hole for several days, pound it up, and then eat it; it was much esteemed by the villagers. It is necessary to ferment it first, as otherwise the root is extremely poisonous. We tasted a slice of bread made out of this root, and I have seldom tasted anything nastier. It is supposed, if not properly fermented, to cause all the hair to fall out of the head; but I should be inclined to imagine that it would do this even if it were properly fermented. Near the junction of the Kama and Arun Rivers, we climbed up on to a terrace 1,200 feet above, on which was situated the