LIFE OUTSIDE OOTY.
333
down a winding bed full of rocks, rapids, and
sand-banks : it supplies your curries with a shrunken
specimen of the finny tribe—alas ! how different
from certain fishes which you may connect in
memory with certain mountain streams in the old
country. The surrounding hills are celebrated for
containing abundance of game. An indefatigable
excursionist would ride seven miles further on the
Goodalore road for the sake of the coups-d'ceil,
and to be able to say that he has seen Neddi-
wuttun. All the pleasure he derives from this
extra stage along a vile path, is a sense of intense
satisfaction that he is not compelled to pass a
night in the damp, dreary, moss-clad bungalow,
where unhappy travellers must at times perforce
abide. Three miles from Ooty, in the direction
of the Koondah hills, you pass Fair Lawn, the
bit of turf which Terpsichore loves. Finally, after
a long and dreary stretch over a tiresome series
of little eminences, after fording the Porthy river,
and crossing its sister stream, the Avalanche, by
an unsafe bridge, you arrive at the Wooden House,*
whence sportsmen issue to disturb the innocent
enjoyments of elk and ibex, bison and elephant.
* The Maroo Bungla, or log-house, as the natives call the
Avalanche bungalow.
333
down a winding bed full of rocks, rapids, and
sand-banks : it supplies your curries with a shrunken
specimen of the finny tribe—alas ! how different
from certain fishes which you may connect in
memory with certain mountain streams in the old
country. The surrounding hills are celebrated for
containing abundance of game. An indefatigable
excursionist would ride seven miles further on the
Goodalore road for the sake of the coups-d'ceil,
and to be able to say that he has seen Neddi-
wuttun. All the pleasure he derives from this
extra stage along a vile path, is a sense of intense
satisfaction that he is not compelled to pass a
night in the damp, dreary, moss-clad bungalow,
where unhappy travellers must at times perforce
abide. Three miles from Ooty, in the direction
of the Koondah hills, you pass Fair Lawn, the
bit of turf which Terpsichore loves. Finally, after
a long and dreary stretch over a tiresome series
of little eminences, after fording the Porthy river,
and crossing its sister stream, the Avalanche, by
an unsafe bridge, you arrive at the Wooden House,*
whence sportsmen issue to disturb the innocent
enjoyments of elk and ibex, bison and elephant.
* The Maroo Bungla, or log-house, as the natives call the
Avalanche bungalow.