Tradition says that Ackbar deserted his capital to satisfy the caprice of a very holy faqueer who had been in possession before Ackbar made his appearance. Certain it is that, as suddenly as they had come, kings, queens, courtiers, nobles, followers, and men of lesser degree, vanished away, taking up their quarters twenty-two miles off on the banks of the sacred Jumna, and called the place Agra. The general commanding, having been summoned away for some reason, I got command of the division, and it became my duty--a very pleasant one--to proceed to Mussoorie and Landour, to inspect the dépôt at the latter-named station. It was no new ground to me, for I had paid a visit to Mussoorie during the hot weather of several years, and I was well acquainted with its many beauties. I was also glad to take a farewell glance at old remembered haunts. My wife accompanied me. We travelled by train as far as Seharanpore. In spite of all that has been done to make railway travelling luxurious in the hot weather, it is a terrible ordeal. The dust sifts through the closed, jalousied windows in clouds, and, swiftly as we may fly through the air, it is the atmosphere of a furnace that we breathe. Cases of heat apoplexy were so common that at all the principal stations shells were ready for the bodies of those who had succumbed, and at each stoppage a scrutiny was made of every carriage to see who required assistance. We had a huge block of ice with us to cool the atmosphere, so we arrived in safety at the end of the railway part of our journey. A dāk-gharry was waiting for us, and we rattled along the dusty high-road, past miles and miles of ripe corn-fields. In the distance, through the haze of heat, we saw the well-remembered giant mountains of the Himalayas. Before reaching them an advance low ridge of hills, known as the Sewallic range, has to be crossed. It is a wild, jungly country. Tigers and huge snakes have their haunts in the fastnesses of the Terai. At the Mohun Pass we changed from gharry to doolies, and were borne at a steady trot by four bearers up and down, the way abounding in huge boulders and rocks. They keep up a monotonous chant as they move along, the words often applying to the burden. I was not a light weight; and ‘Oh, the elephant! oh, the elephant!’ was the refrain of their song, which changed occasionally to ‘Oh, the great man, the great prince! Backsheesh from the great king.’