"I suppose," Frank remarked, "that it is in the same way that foreigners living in China call an imported horse a 'griffin;' do you call these horses griffins as well as whalers?" "Not often," answered the Englishman; "but sometimes you hear the name from an Englishman who has been in China. In India and Ceylon the term griffin is applied to a newly-arrived Englishman, and it sticks to him till he has been a year in the country. Griffin is frequently abbreviated to 'griff,' and those who are familiar with the talk of Englishmen in India know perfectly well what is meant when a man is called a griff." "Returning to horses," he continued, "the best are from Australia, and they sell for nearly double the prices that the others will bring. Then we have them from the Persian Gulf, of a poor quality so far as appearance is concerned, but they do very good service. The team that we now have is composed of Gulf horses, and what they lack in speed they make up in savage tempers. They are difficult to manage, and, as one of your countrymen once remarked in my hearing, 'they are very handy with their heels!' A better horse than this is the Pegu pony, as it is called; it comes mostly from the western end of Sumatra, and stands the climate very well, besides being less vicious than the rest, but it cannot equal the Australian for speed." [Illustration: DONKEY AND PACK-SADDLE.] "We use donkeys here for carrying burdens, just as they are used in nearly every part of the world. They are rather too weak for riding purposes, and you will not often see them with riding-saddles on their backs; the pack-saddle is almost as large as the animal that carries it, but it is lighter than you would suppose, as it is made from pandanus-leaves and coir-rope, and serves its purpose very well." The greater part of this conversation occurred after the coach had started on its journey and before it reached the first station for changing horses. The road was excellent, and the team made such progress as to surprise the boys, who had thought such sorry animals could go little faster than a walk. The horses kept an even pace of about seven miles an hour, and hardly broke from a trot for miles where the road was level. The road was lined on each side by cocoa-nut-trees, and their new acquaintance told the boys that the trees continued without interruption all the way from Galle to Colombo. The change of horses was made by the light of torches, and the kicking and general restlessness of the animals confirmed what the Englishman had said about their bad tempers. The drivers and stablemen seemed to have a wholesome respect for the brutes as long as they were in danger from their heels--but when the team was all ready, and the driver had mounted to his box, he made up for any previous forbearance by a liberal use of the whip.