proceed the following day and several more only just reached Kalimpong, the second day's march, only 12 miles from Peshoke, but the climb of 3,300 feet up from the bridge over the Teesta in the steamy and enervating heat proved too much for them. The forests here were very beautiful--huge sal trees and giant terminalia abounded with weird and wonderful creepers embracing their stems, or hanging down from their branches. The handsome pothos--the finest of the creepers--grew everywhere. The curious pandanus or screw pine displayed its long and picturesque fronds, while here and there among the dark green of the tropical forest showed up as a brilliant patch of colour the scarlet blooms of the clerodendrons. Above the forests the hillsides had been terraced with immense labour into rice fields, which at this time of year were not yet planted out, but the fields of maize were already ripening. At Kalimpong there was a large and comfortable Dak bungalow, surrounded by a well-kept garden full of roses and scarlet hibiscus with a beautiful and large-flowered mauve solanum growing up the pillars on the verandah. At Kalimpong we were entertained by Dr. Graham and his charming daughters, who showed us true hospitality and kindness. They live in a very pretty house embowered in roses on the crest of the hill and commanding lovely views over the Teesta Valley and up to the snowy peaks of Kanchenjunga. Higher up on the spur are the homes and the industrial schools that many years of hard work have brought into being, thanks to the indefatigable labours of Dr. Graham and the late Mrs. Graham; these now hold between 600 and 700 pupils, both boys and girls, who, when they leave these schools, have all been taught some useful trade and are sent out as useful members of society. They are given as practical an education as could be wished for anywhere. At the Grahams' house I met David Macdonald, the British Trade Agent at Yatung, who was acting temporarily as political agent in Sikkim until Major Bailey arrived from England. He was an old friend of mine, as I had met him before in Tibet. He promised us every assistance in his power and had telegraphed to Yatung and to the Jongpen at Phari to have supplies and anything we wanted in readiness at those places. He told me that an old Tibetan Lama, who knew Mount Everest well, had described it as "Miti guti cha-phu long-nga," "the mountain visible from all directions, and where a bird becomes blind if it flies so high." Throughout our journey across Sikkim the weather was very bad, with heavy falls of rain every day and night. We had had the bad luck to strike the Chota Bursat, or little monsoon, which usually heralds the coming of the proper monsoon a fortnight or three weeks later.