natives of Aracan); while, in more familiar garbs, English, Americans, French, Danes, Spaniards, and Dutch, might be seen strolling about or shouldering their way through the chattering crowds. Near the shore, and ranged in long lines, lay anchored ships of all the above nations, of every class and size from 800 tons downwards-from the taunt-sparred, clipping "Yankee" to the unwieldy Chinese junk; busily engaged in taking in rice from fleets of country boats around them: while between them and the shore passed and repassed small craft of every descriptionclumsy burs managed by Chittagong coolies, Aracanese canoes, Malay sampans, Chinese affairs, looking like huge troughs, and here and there the well-appointed quarter-boat of some European ship, with its clean white awning, bearing her master to his breakfast on shore. All was hurry-scurry, toil, and clamour.

The town of Akyab, viewed from the harbour, extends in a mass of mat houses, with a background of densely foliaged trees, for about 2 miles, when it is bounded by the Charigia creek, though straggling clusters of buildings continue beyond, along the shore, which trends N.N.E. About midway the town is traversed by the Julliapara creek, which is smaller than the former, and passed by a substantial wooden bridge. Both are full of Burmese and Aracanese godoos, or native ships, boats, and canoes of every description; and the Charigia, which is about 100 yards broad, and very deep, admits ships of 300 tons for a mile or more within it. The mouths of these creeks are busy spots, being crowded with sheds for storing rice, and temporary wharfs, thronged with boats incessantly filling with freight for the shipping; and up them for a considerable distance may be seen a forest of masts of Burmese and Aracanese godoos, which chiefly bring timber from the interior, and here and there an ugly, mangy-looking Chittagong sloop, with its grotesque Anglo-Indian rigging, a fishing-net triced up to the gaff-peak, and a starveling crew of coolies. these vessels manage to find their way from Chittagong, or preserve their existence in the most ordinary state of the sea in the bay, was matter to me of great musing and wonderment as we swept past the suburbs of the town. The country ships from Masulipatam, Coringa, and other ports on the Madras coast are of a somewhat better description ; but still, with Gonzalo in the Tempest,' I would prefer "an acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze-anything" to "a thousand furlongs of sea in one of them.

How

North of the Charigia, houses continue thinly scattered, and patches of green grass and jungle begin to mingle with them along the low muddy shore, with tall dead trees ringed and decaying in places where clearings have been commenced; until the whole length of bank presents a line of unbroken jungle close down to the

water's edge, save where the ebb tide leaves a space of oozy mud between. The opposite or eastern side of the harbour is hemmed in by small rocky islets, with precipitous hills densely clothed in jungle, and with a steep, hard beach; some of the rocks crowning their summits start out in fanciful shapes, and one of them, "Tumble-down Dick "-a high slanting cone of sandstone projecting from a wooded ridge-is a well-known landmark in the estuary. Between these islands deep broad creeks afford safe inland passages to Kyuk-phu; and the N. of the harbour is bounded by Flat Island, a low tract of marshy jungle which divides the Koladyn into two broad streams, through which channels the tides rush with great strength, and, if the wind be fresh and contrary, a high rolling sea. Looking back to the S., low ridges of rocks, stretching out from the Bolongo Island, almost encircle the harbour, leaving a deep passage of about three-fourths of a mile in width for vessels entering or leaving; and from this reef rises Savage Island, a mass of steep rocks crowned by an excellent stone light house, facing another smaller one built on the most southerly point of Akyab Island itself.

We passed Flat Island on its western side, avoiding the long shoal that extends like a tail from its southern extremity, and tacking from shore to shore, drifted rapidly up with the tide; the banks on either side being a monotonous line of jungle, though the country in the interior is entirely open and cultivated. About 4 miles up the channel we passed, to the W., a large creek, the Moungyn, which affords a passage to the Myú river, N.W. One or two rice sheds were observable on its banks; and in the early part of the season pariars put in here to load. Flat Island appears to be about 5 miles long; and, passing the head of it, we entered a channel of upwards of 2 miles broad, with a considerable sea rolling in the centre. Here we passed an antique looking bark going before the wind, and presently after a brig. The eastern shore continues low, covered with jungle, with here and there a fine open space peering through the trees; but, on the western side, at about twenty miles from Akyab, a ridge of wooded hills runs

a mile inland parallel to the shore, and on a spur of these, projecting towards the river, is a very large ancient Jedi, or sacred monument of the Budhists, overlooking the village of Ourytung, off which, the tide failing us, we anchored.

The view from the deck of the Petrel here was very pretty: to our right, or E., rolled the broad stream of the Koladyn, now smooth in the calm air of evening. Ahead lay an extensive island meadow, dividing the main river from the Yeokhyung, a broad creek that came smoothly down from the N.N.W., grey with the shadows of overhanging hills that swept along the western shore and rose sharply defined against the fading sky. On our left hand,

"stricken in years," and in the mute majesty of decay, stood the lone Jedi; and past it, swept a little stream, where lights began to twinkle from boats along the bank; and above it a path winded away to the village of Ourytung, concealed in trees. Astern, the Koladyn rolled on, its broad waters mingling far off with the harbour, and to the S.E. bounded by ranges of purple hills. It can

A jedi I have called a Budhist sacred monument. scarcely be called a temple, for it is solid, having no interior receptacle, shrine, or apartment. It is in fact a solid cupola, truncated at the base, which springs sheer from the ground, and with divers convolutions, as if turned in a lathe, ends in a pinnacle, surmounted by iron wire-work, representing the royal fringed Burmese "tee," or state umbrella; the terminating spire of which is not unfrequently crowned with an old soda-water bottle.

Before night set in, observing an alligator asleep on a mud flat near some rocks about of a mile up the stream, I set off in the jolly-boat, and after a long pull gained the shelter of the rocks, and, letting the boat drop silently past him within 30 or 40 yards, shot him through the neck, so that he merely opened his mouth, but could not stir from the spot. The boat's crew jumped on shore, up to their thighs in mud, and with a little trouble (giving him an oar to mumble, at which he snapped savagely), tied up bis muzzle, and dragged him into the boat. He was about 9 feet long. The Clashies secured his fangs, and the Mughs his body, of which they made some dainty dish. The alligators here are a distinct species from the "mugger," "koomhïr," or "boach," of Bengal; they are longer in proportion, with a slenderer muzzle, and, like the "gavial" of the Ganges, appear adapted for more rapid swimming. It is notable that in Bengal the largest alligators are found nearest the sea: here it appears to be the reverse; for they tell me the largest are high up the Koladyn, where they frequently seize and devour both children and adults.

At 8 P.M. we weighed, and, in a light air, partly sailed and partly swept up the creek to the N.N.W., the Yeokhyung, anchoring about 1 mile from its mouth, off Prongrhé.

4th, Tuesday.-Weighed at 8 A.M., a bright clear morning, and tacked up the Yeokhyung with a strong northerly breeze. The keonk, or tuhsildar, of Prongrhé, in the circle (or ké-wyn) of Yeogwyn, came on board to pay his respects, and brought his son, a handsome lad of fourteen or fifteen years. The creek is on an average 200 yards wide, and very winding, with much cultivation on both sides, and pawn gardens at the foot of the hills. These, after bordering the creek for 2 miles, trend off inland to N. W., and disclose other parallel ranges further back; they are densely clothed in hill bamboo and other jungle, and very steep, but not above 500 feet in height. I have been joined by my revenue.

amla in their boats, and, as we pass each ké-wyn or circle, its keonk, or head man, comes on board, and we form quite a flotilla. The Aracanese have a custom of leaving the jungle growing on the banks of the creeks and rivers in a hedge or border, sometimes 50 to 100 yards deep; so that the traveller, being unable to see inland, fancies he is traversing interminable forests, when he is probably in a champaign country. The object of this border is to prevent drift-wood being carried during high floods into their fields; but it appears to me a useless custom, and it certainly disfigures the country. Where Chittagongs reside the land is cleared to the water's edge, and the sight of the open meadows is quite cheering to the eye.

The stream being narrow, we tacked every five minutes, and once got into the trees on the bank, but were soon off again. Three hours' sail brought us past Chyn-tan, a small village on the bank, dignified by two little Jedis. The villagers seem very busy, threshing and piling their rice on the shore, and scarcely leaving off to stare at us as we pass. This rice is soon purchased by duláls (native brokers) for the shipping, or the Akyab market.

The tide failed us at the village of Subong, on the E. bank, where we anchored, and I had kucherry, returning with the ebb to the mouth of the creek before night-fall.

In these wooded nalas, when the ebb leaves the mud exposed, the banks are often visited by numbers of monkeys (Cercopithecus carbonarius), the "myuk-tungá," or fishing monkey of the Aracanese, who grope about the mud for worms, shell-fish, or stranded shrimps. They are amusing fellows, and readily tamed when caught young; but the males get morose with age, and bite severely, having canine teeth as large as the fangs of a fox-hound. They swim well: one that I had wounded in the Bolongo Island, in 1847, escaped out of our boat (having charged at and nearly driven us all overboard), and took to swimming and diving so dexterously that we were long in recapturing him. I might have shot several to-day, but forbore.

Among the hills described a little while back, one of the inner ranges, running N.W., ends in a very steep truncated summit. It is the highest hill in the alluvium of the Akyab district, and, by native report, quite insurmountable. It is called the Beygnara-tung (or hill of five hundred ducks); but the origin of such a singular name I could not discover. There is said to be a tank on the top (perhaps for the ducks), and that in former years a nāt or spirit inhabited the hill, who fulfilled the wishes of all such pilgrims as visited her shrine, whether for riches, long life, or posterity. The tank also on the summit, generally said to be dug by præter-human hands, is a feature common to nearly all the remarkable hills in Singthum, Chota Nagpur, &c.

Before nightfall we anchored at our station of yesterday, below Yeogwyn Island. The conflux of the two streams is dangerous for small boats at half tides during the springs, as strong whirlpools form in such spots sufficient to engulph a light canoe.

The channel of the Koladyn before us being shallow, we waited till 9 P.M., when the flow had been running about half an hour, and then weighed, tacking up with a light north-easterly air. The young moon had set early behind the hills, but it was a brilliant starlight night. We made for the easterly shore, where we had 3 fathoms, but the channel was very narrow, and in spite of every precaution, sending the jolly-boat ahead to sound, we twice shoaled to a fathom, and the second time grounded. This was about midnight, and the crew, who had been working hard all day, let go the anchor, to wait for better times; but, on my insisting upon it, they got a grapnel off in the jolly-boat, and throwing it into deep water astern of us, hove upon it, and a light air helping us, we got off. This reach of the Koladyn, which I calculate at 25 to 30 miles from Akyab, would require great precaution, and daylight, to ensure the safe passage of larger vessels. Beyond it the water continues of great depth for about 50 miles.

5th, Wednesday.-At about 3 A.M. we anchored off the village of Kuddawa, on the E. shore, being unable to proceed on account of a dense fog. I was upon deck at about 7 A.M., a cold northerly breeze was clearing off the mist, which at 9 A.M. lifted, and the sun shone out upon much the same kind of country as heretofore. The Koladyn narrowed to about 600 yards; the E. shore well cultivated, but fringed with jungle, and villages at every mile or two apart. The opposite side is the E. bank of Yeogwyn Island (which we ran along yesterday), and is chiefly jungle, with the ground taree-palm in thick groves, affording a boundless supply to the Aracanese of the drink they love. The whole of the day was occupied in revenue business; and the poop of the Petrel, with an awning above, made the pleasantest kucherry I had ever worked in.

At about 2 P.M. we anchored off the pleasant village of Rungjwyn.

About 8 P.M. we weighed again, sweeping up, for there was little or no wind, but were obliged to anchor about midnight, as the fog settled down so thick we could scarcely see to the jibboom end. Just before anchoring we passed a pariar brig at

anchor.

6th, Thursday. Ookwye, our anchoring place. The country immediately in advance begins perceptibly to improve, the banks to heighten, and wide meadows to relieve the monotony of bush and jungle. We weighed at 9 A.M., with a cold bracing wind that sent us flying through the water. The country here rises on