Another year has flown, a year chequered for me, as for others, with joy, anxiety, and trouble; and to-day my thoughts turn especially to the few who are dear to me. From more than one loving heart arise, I feel sure, on this day, good wishes for the poor traveller, and from no one more warmly than from you, my dear father. You long for my return; so writes my brother in his last letter, forwarded to me from Bangkok. But I am only commencing my new campaign; would it be like a good soldier to leave on the eve of the engagement? I am at the gates of the infernal regions, for so the Laotians and Siamese designate this forest, and I have no spell to terrify the demons which inhabit it, neither tiger’s teeth nor stunted stag-horn; nothing but my faith in and love for God. If I must die here, where so many other wanderers have left their bones, I shall be ready when my hour comes. The profound stillness of this forest, and its luxuriant tropical vegetation, are indescribable, and at this midnight hour impress me deeply. The sky is serene, the air fresh, and the moon’s rays only penetrate here and there, through the foliage, in patches, which appear on the ground like pieces of white paper dispersed by the wind. Nothing breaks the silence but a few dead leaves rustling to the earth, the murmur of a brook which flows over its pebbly bed at my feet, and the frogs answering each other on either side, and whose croaking resembles the hoarse barking of a dog. Now and then I can distinguish the flapping of the bats, attracted by the flame of the torch which is fastened to a branch of the tree under which my tiger-skin is spread; or, at longer intervals, the cry of some panther calling to its mate, and responded to from the tree-tops by the growling of the chimpanzees, whose rest the sound has disturbed. With a sabre in one hand and a torch in the other, Phrai pursues the fishes in the stream, and he and his shadow reflected on the rocks and water, as he stands there making sudden darts, and crying out “hit” or “missed,” might easily be mistaken by the natives for demons. FOREBODINGS. I cannot shake off a feeling of sadness which a few hours of sleep and a long chase to-morrow will probably dissipate; yet, at the moment, I cannot forbear asking myself, how will this year end for me? Shall I accomplish all I have in view? shall I preserve that health without which I can do nothing? and can I surmount all the difficulties which oppose themselves to me, and of which not the least is the difficulty of finding any means of conveyance?