From Kandy to Neura-Ellia—"Royal Plains"—(pronounced Nuralia) is a pleasant drive of fifty miles through the Ramboda Pass, which is justly celebrated for its series of beautiful waterfalls and boisterous rapids, affording frequent views of great magnificence. It is safe to say that in this respect it is the most remarkable part of the island. The entire route is about six thousand feet above sea level. At first the course of the Maha-velle-Ganga is closely followed, the river being crossed at Peradenia by a somewhat remarkable bridge, consisting of a single arch or span of a little over two hundred feet, built of satinwood, with stout brick and stone abutments. The bridge was erected in 1832, without the aid of a single nail or bolt, and is apparently in perfect condition to-day. The railway bridge crosses the stream below this point not far away, resting upon three substantial stone piers. The centre of the first-named structure is raised between sixty and seventy feet above the ordinary flow of the water, which is generally of quite a placid character, but at certain seasons of the year its volume and force are such as to form a sweeping and dangerous torrent. When this is the case, there are often borne upon the flood large cocoanut and other trees, which have stood for many years upon the river's banks, until thus undermined by the swift-flowing waters. The effect is then very singular. The trees, which have thus been suddenly transported from their birthplaces in a growing and often fruit-bearing condition, pile themselves up after a most extraordinary fashion, forming what is technically called a "jam."

The hillsides, as seen from the satinwood bridge, are terraced with rice-fields, while in the distance stands the Allegalla Peak, an isolated mountain thirty-four hundred feet in height, in connection with which there are several Singhalese legends, each one more or less impossible. This element, however, only makes the stories all the more palatable to the native appetite.

This route takes one through Gampola, which, though it is insignificant enough at the present time, was the native capital of Ceylon nearly five hundred years ago. The place is situated amid a grand panorama of magnificent hills on the banks of the river already named, which is here crossed by a suspension bridge. The road from this point to Neura-Ellia begins to ascend the hilly region along the face of steep acclivities and precipitous banks. One can nearly reach Neura-Ellia by rail, but the route we have described is by far the most interesting in point of scenic effects.

This is a Singhalese watering-place, the Saratoga of the island, the one popular health resort of the wealthy natives, as well as of strangers and English officials whose headquarters are on the sea coast. It is situated a little over one hundred miles eastward from Colombo, at an elevation of nearly seven thousand feet, while the surrounding mountains are between one and two thousand feet higher. The English government has established a sanitarium here for invalid soldiers, and a small detachment of infantry is always stationed on the spot, more for form than because of any real necessity. It is a region where cool, gray skies and frequent rains prevail, and where a fire is needed most of the year, and indeed it is almost a necessity after sunset at all seasons. The thermometer never rises above 70° Fahr., and the average temperature is 60°. The change from oven-like Colombo in midsummer to the air of this invigorating region is truly delightful. When the author was at Neura-Ellia, early in January (being at our antipodes, it was then summer in Ceylon), the weather was lovely, his companions were cultured, appreciative, and sympathizing, and everything joined in producing a store of delicious and lasting memories. The strong, invigorating mountain breezes were most enjoyable after a period of oppressive heat endured on the coast. The locality recalled a somewhat similar experience in passing from Calcutta to Darjeeling, an English sanitarium near the foot of the Himalayan range of mountains, overlooking the plains of Hindustan on the one hand, while on the other affording a view of that series of mountains whose loftiest point, Mount Everest, forms the apex of our globe, its cloud-capped, sky-reaching summit being nearly thirty thousand feet above the level of the sea.

There are several fairly good hotels at Neura-Ellia, two banking-houses, a church, a club-house, and a large number of private cottages scattered about the hills and valley, overlooking a lake of some two miles in length and a mile in width. This has been stocked with trout, and now affords a liberal supply of that palatable fish to the residents.

Not far away, on the Fort McDonald River, there is a grand waterfall, with a plunge of three hundred perpendicular feet into a dark and narrow chasm. The river approaches this point over a long succession of wild, swirling, and foaming cataracts, reminding one of the rapids above Niagara Falls, though far inferior in breadth and the body of water which they convey. The hoarse anthem and echo accompaniment of the McDonald Falls, when heard for the first time, are truly awe-inspiring.

One has not far to go in the surrounding mountain region to find the haunts of the wild elephants. They are still to be met with in considerable numbers, their capture being considered the great achievement of the chase among hunters of large game. From here Hindustan has drawn its supply of these animals for many centuries. The elephant rarely breeds in servitude while domesticated for the use of man, but in its wild state is a prolific animal, otherwise Ceylon would long since have been cleared of them. The mother elephant carries her infant twenty-two months, and after birth suckles it for two years. The female does not attain her maturity until she is fifteen years old; the male in his twentieth year. The mother elephant gives birth to but one calf at a time; twins have never been known. Small herds range these hills to a height of six thousand feet, where the nights are often frosty and the cold quite severe. Though they are natives of tropical regions, this animal seems to be but little affected by the cold, always avoiding, when it is possible, the direct rays of the sun. This peculiarity is noticeable in them even when they are exhibited in our cold northern climate. Unless aroused by the hunters and driven from deep, cool coverts in the dense forests, the elephant remains hidden during the daytime. Their roaming for forage and water, like that of most wild animals, is altogether nocturnal. Their sustenance is principally the leafage of young shoots of trees, the wild fig being their favorite. The tender roots of the bamboo also form a large source of food supply. Rice, however, is the elephant's choice above all other esculents, and sometimes a small herd will devastate a whole plantation in a single night. The planters generally build a bamboo fence about their rice-fields in the districts liable to be visited by these animals. This would at first thought seem to be entirely insufficient to keep off so powerful a creature, but the fact is that a wild elephant in Ceylon is so wary that he will not trespass upon land thus guarded. Some instinct teaches him to avoid the place and to seek for food elsewhere. A simple rope drawn about a field, it is said, will keep him at a distance. He shrewdly suspects a trap, and has seen so many of his comrades seized upon and carried away into captivity by means of corrals, traps, and ropes, that he has learned to associate the idea of capture with such things, and is constantly on the lookout lest he also fall a victim to the stratagems of the huntsmen. It is common to consider one hundred years as the average period of an elephant's life, but the author has seen an animal doing service in India which was known to exceed this limit by a score of years.

European sportsmen, attracted to Ceylon in search of this big game, sacrificed the elephants in mere wantonness until government interfered, and a heavy fine is now imposed upon any one who kills an animal of this species. There is no danger of the natives doing anything of the kind. In the first place they have not the inclination, and in the next they are not permitted to own firearms of any sort. Some rich and reckless Englishmen, nevertheless, kill an occasional elephant simply for the sake of boasting of their prowess, and pay the government fine accordingly. We say the natives have no inclination to hunt the elephant, but the wild Veddahs do sometimes kill them. The animals of this species found in Ceylon are of a distinctive breed, with some marked differences from those native to Africa, and are noted for their high degree of intelligence. They are most prized in India, where they are used by those who can afford to keep them. The intelligence of this monarch of the forest is shown in his selection of the most available paths for passing from one part of the country to another. Major Skinner, the famous road-builder of Ceylon, tells us how invaluable he found the tracks of the elephants as a guide in laying out his government routes through the island. He says the most available crossings of hills, valleys, and rivers were already distinctly marked by elephant paths, and he followed them with entire confidence that his engineers could do no better for him, with all their experience, aided by the most accurate instruments.

The Maharajah of Jeypoor, India, whose generous and regal hospitality the author has enjoyed, sends elephants to bring his invited guests to visit him, and also returns them to their residences in the same manner. The animals which were employed on the occasion referred to came originally from the Kandy hills in Ceylon. They were docile creatures, which knelt at the word of command for us to mount to the frame seats on their backs. Each carried six persons besides the driver. We were told that it costs as much to feed one elephant as to keep eight horses. This independent prince has a territory about the size of Massachusetts, with a million and a half of contented subjects. His capital—Jeypoor—is the finest and most thrifty native city in all India, where, wonderful to say, there are no beggars, nor, so far as a transient visitor could discover, nuisances of any sort to complain of. It was a dusty season, as is well remembered, but the streets and squares of the capital were being carefully sprinkled by native water-carriers,—in a very primitive manner, to be sure, but showing a due consideration for the comfort of the public.

There is a vast difference between a tame and a wild elephant; the latter, when entirely subdued and domesticated, is of comparatively little consequence. His main occupation in our country is that of eating peanuts, candies, and fruit doled out to him by visitors to the menageries, and the performance of a few highly sagacious tricks. In their wild state they are the wariest and most cunning of all the denizens of the forest. Nor are they devoid of courage and ferocity when brought to bay, and many experienced hunters have lost their lives in Ceylon while pursuing them. When domesticated in this island they are of great service to the farmers, especially in plowing, harrowing, and rolling the newly broken land. A cultivator which would anchor half a dozen yokes of native bullocks is walked away with in the easiest manner imaginable by a single elephant. They are particularly sagacious in dam-building across streams, and in the construction of bridges, placing the heavy materials just where they are required, and even fitting large logs and stones in their proper places. The amount of food which so large an animal requires is, however, a serious drawback to their employment. Besides five or six hundred pounds of green fodder, an elephant must eat at least twenty pounds of some kind of grain daily, rice preferred, to keep him in working condition. They are usually seen, in their wild state, in small herds of ten or twelve, the majority being females, and generally each one has a calf or baby elephant by her side. There are also certain males, known as "rogues," that roam the forests singly, generally vicious old creatures, discarded by their companions, and always bent upon mischief. These are desperate in the extreme, often courting a conflict with the hunters, fiercely charging them right and left. Why they have been excommunicated from the ranks of their former companions cannot be known, but they are always avoided, both by the natives and by hunters. No attempt is ever made to domesticate a "rogue" elephant. They recognize that they are forever ostracized from the fellowship of their kind, and make no attempt to join other elephants. The theory is that they have become permanently crazed.

It is well-known that all elephants are liable to brief periods of delirium, during which they are very dangerous. When the symptoms of such an occurrence begin to evince themselves, their keeper, always prepared for such an event, doubles their chains and otherwise securely confines them until the paroxysm is over. The recovery is hastened by a brief period of starvation, neither food nor drink being given the animal until he becomes entirely docile.

For a considerable time, there was an understanding that the rogue elephant might be hunted and killed, when such an one made his appearance, but this liberty was taken advantage of by sportsmen, and when they killed an animal he was represented to have been a rogue whether he was really so or not, and the authorities were therefore obliged to enforce the law as regarded all these animals.

The Ceylon elephant is not of the ivory-producing species, though some of the males do develop good-sized tusks like those of Africa. The animals of this island have short "grubbers," as they are called, protruding from their mouths eight or ten inches, with which they uproot certain species of their favorite food, such as the tender undergrowth of the juicy bamboo. Had the Ceylon elephant been an ivory-bearing animal, he would probably have been more closely pursued by the hunters, and have long since disappeared from the island, which is so much more accessible than the wilds of Africa, whence the world's supply is now almost wholly derived.

Strange to say, the elephant in his domesticated or tame state takes absolute pleasure in acting as a decoy to enable the hunters to capture wild ones. After the pursuers have, with the tame elephant's help, driven the wild animal into a corral or stout inclosure in the forest, and have also, still aided by the tame elephant, secured the wild one by tying his two hind feet securely to some stout tree, he is left for a day or two to strain and fret himself until he has fairly worn out his strength, before he is again approached. Almost the entire process of breaking in or training a wild elephant is that of starvation. When at last his spirit is completely broken and his strength gone for the time being, he becomes amenable to discipline, almost as much so as one which has been in captivity for years. He then partakes with eagerness of the food and water which is brought to him, accepting the same as a sort of peace offering, and gradually becomes attached to the keeper who has charge of him, and with whose presence the creature associates the idea of relief and comfort. From this time forward, firmness and kindness complete the taming process. It is a mystery how and where they die in their wild state. No corpses are ever found, except of those which have come to a violent death by the bullets of the hunters. It is seldom that the animal is now shot. This is only done in extreme cases, as a live elephant is so much more valuable than a dead one that the object is now to corral them, tie them up, and tame them.

The mountains encircling Piduru Talagalla are covered with trees to their very summits, from a distance seeming to be wrapped in a rich mantle of deepest green. This elevation is the loftiest on the island, considerably exceeding Adam's Peak, the legendary apex of Ceylon, a conclusion arising from the fact that the latter is to be seen from the ocean before any other portion of the island, and long before the lighthouse of Colombo is made out from on ship-board. The dense forest in this region contains many wild animals besides elephants.

A high degree of religious importance attaches to the act of ascending Adam's Peak, which is situated fifteen miles south of Neura-Ellia. Consequently, at certain seasons of the year, the mountain side is covered with pilgrims, who camp there during the night, and perform their religious devotions on the summit during the day. A special effort is made by the pilgrims to reach the top so as to see the sun rise, and to meet its first rays upon bended knees in devout prayer, like the ancient fire-worshipers. Steps are cut in the steep, rocky sides of the precipitous ascent, to overcome the abruptness of which, here and there, requires the aid of chains, which are fastened securely in the solid rock for this purpose. Judging from the style and condition of these, they have probably been in use for centuries. Religious faith must be all-absorbing with a people, to bring them such distances from northern India to bow down to a supposititious footprint in Ceylon.

All Eastern people are famous for making distant pilgrimages to what are considered sacred places, and especially Buddhists, who attach immense importance to such performances.

Before leaving Neura-Ellia, let us say a word as to its fitness for invalids, since Ceylon is becoming more and more of a resort for such persons, especially those afflicted with weakness of the lungs. It may be fairly questioned if this locality be not too damp for pulmonary invalids. It is very often wrapped in cold, dense clouds for many hours together, so that the air is heavy with a sort of Scotch mist. Still, the place is growing, and many persons have great faith in its sanitary importance. The number of English cottages is increasing, and the hotels are well filled in the summer season. The cost of living at this resort in the hills is so great that only those who have long purses can afford it. Rents are high, and domestic articles of consumption cost about double what is usually charged at Colombo, whence nearly all table provisions are brought.

Six miles from here is an interesting hill garden, designed to supplement that already described near Kandy, and which is under the same able management. Flowers do not receive much attention in either of these conservatories, useful and remarkable trees taking precedence of all other forms of vegetation. Here one sees some examples of the goraka, with its stem and branches quite yellow from the gamboge which they exude; tall ferns like baby palms, fifteen feet in height; and other peculiar trees clad in crimson bloom or blossoms of snowy whiteness, together with some hardy fruits.

On approaching the coast, one often meets with what is called the screw pine, but which, it would seem, should be called the screw palm. It bears sword-like leaves, similar to the South American yucca, and is decked with blossoms of wonderful fragrance. The most peculiar characteristic of the tree, however, is its aerial roots, which are thrown from the trunk above ground, but when they reach the soil they take root in it and serve as props to the delicate stem. The effect is grotesque and artificial.