Page:Life in India or Madras, the Neilgherries, and Calcutta.djvu/543

Rh swept the earth. The hoarse voice of the stream, no longer solitary, was mingled with the crowing of the jungle-cock, the whistle and song of birds in the dark recesses of the ravine, and the loud “Moop! moop! moop!” of the wild monkey.

A little later, and the purple rays of morning, first lighting up the forest-clad mountain's brow, then sweeping in soft pencils down its side, came full upon us; the sun rose, and a flood of light was poured on all nature, changing the gloomy forest-path and dark haunts of prowling beasts of prey into a scene of life, tranquillity, and beauty. Thus, into the tempest-tost, sinful, anguished soul, oppressed with the darkness of unbelief, “The entrance of thy word giveth light," O Lord!

It was a way to be remembered, and each step gave fresh enjoyment; for, ever descending, every turn revealed some new and more tropical type of vegetation, until the rhododendron, the holly, the anemone, and the violet were exchanged for the lime, the bamboo, the mimosa, and the cactus. But stern reality broke in upon romance. As the bearers jogged and grunted, jolted and shouted on their way, thinking less of scenery and sentiment than of