Excerpt from Up the Country: Letters Written to Her Sister From the Upper Provinces of India
We came into these lovely riant scenes on Sunday morning. They are a composition of low stunted trees, marsh, tigers and snakes, with a stream that sometimes looks like a very wide lake and then becomes so narrow that the jungle wood scrapes against the sides of the ﬂat - and this morning scraped away all Gr.'s jalousies, which are a great loss. I never saw such a desolate scene: no birds ﬂying about - there is no grain for them to eat. We have met only one native boat, which must have been there since the Deluge. Occasionally there is a bamboo stuck up with a bush tied to it, which is to recall the cheerful fact that there a tiger has carried off a man. None of our Hindus, though they are starving, will go on shore to cook - and, indeed, it would be very unsafe. It looks as if this bit of world had been left unfinished when land and sea were originally parted. The ﬂat is dreadfully hot at night; but not more uncomfortable than a boat must neces sarily be in this climate.
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