The day following I was fortunate enough to obtain another elephant; but after this there was no more help to be met with, and the greater part of the ensuing four days’ journey I performed on foot, my attendants contriving to perch themselves on the corners of one of the waggons. At this dry season a broad track in the middle of the road, which altogether is from twenty-five to thirty metres in width, is beaten hard by the frequent passage of vehicles and elephants, and the fine thick dust arising from it is very annoying. The remainder of the road is covered with grass and shrubs, and on either hand is the forest, with its trees tall, straight, and majestic, surmounted by immense tufts of leaves. The effect is that of a magnificent avenue; and from the regularity of the intervals between the trees, one might almost believe that it had been laid out by the hand of art. The stations are equidistant from each other, about twelve miles apart; and at all of them, besides the old caravanserais for the shelter of ordinary travellers, new ones, much more spacious and ornamental, have been erected for the accommodation of the king. There are also intermediate resting-places between every two stations, where travellers can obtain a welcome shelter from the midday heat. UDONG. On leaving Komput a low chain of hills came in sight on our left hand, but everywhere on our route we met with the same sandy soil, except in a single spot, which was stony, and contained veins of iron-ore. We passed through but one village, and there, only, were a few attempts at cultivation. In no other part of the forest could I distinguish any traces of its being inhabited. On approaching the capital, the prospect became more diversified: we passed fields of rice, cottages encircled by fruit-gardens, and country houses belonging to the Cambodian aristocracy, who come here in the evening for the sake of breathing a purer air than they can find in the city. As we drew closer to the gates I found the place to be protected by a large moat, surmounted by a parapet, and enclosed by a palisade three metres high. I expected to enter a fortified town, and, as my countrymen were now engaged in giving a lesson to the Cochin-Chinese, to be received by a sentinel with fixed bayonet, and with the startling words, “You cannot pass.” But seeing no one, I pushed open the gate and entered. It seemed that I was in the enclosure surrounding the palace of the second king. The first object that attracted my attention was a sort of cage, something between a sentry-box and a pigeon-house, with a small window at each of the four sides, intended for a look-out house and signal-station in case of invasion. I then found myself in the centre of a large square surrounded by ramparts, and the access to which is by two gates, one opening on the market-place, and the other on the country. Within this walled space is, on one side, the palace of the inferior king, and