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Rh excavated the ground under our tents to a depth of several feet; and in these miserable “underground apartments,” or rather living tombs, with reading and writing, cards and pipes, sentimental ditties and comic songs — which were, of course, always encored — to say nothing of spinning endless yarns and telling mirthful stories, we contrived to while away the weary and fiery hours, as pleasantly as rabbits are wont to do in their appropriate warrens. And it was in holes such as these, that I employed myself in writing the journal from which is transcribed this narrative, so far as it relates to our life and operations in the field.

While domiciled in these inhospitable burrows, we were sometimes molested by such unwelcome visitors as the deadly snake called the Karith — in search of, perhaps, a more agreeable temperature than that of above ground? Yet it seems strange, and it will hardly be believed, but it is nevertheless a fact, that the karith, like the cobra, is naturally partial to places where men live. And although this dangerous reptile is only half the size of a cobra, it is equally venomous. A sting from either is certain death in a few hours; and that being indisputably true, it is curious to note that the karith and cobra persistently haunt the dwellings of men, whilst the other numerous species of snakes far less poisonous — some indeed harmless — rarely approach human habitations at all. No wonder, then, that thousands and thousands of the rural population year after year die from the fatal bite of the