Again bracing ourselves to the task before us, we set out, and cold as the night was in those upper regions of the air, we were all soon in a streaming perspiration from the violence of our exertions in surmounting the difficulties of the path, which consisted of nothing but a series of chains, ladders and rocks, and rocks, ladders and chains, until all but breathless we reached what may be termed the neck of the Peak itself. In this part of the ascent one comes every now and again to the edge of a precipitous cliff, from whence a magnificent view is obtained of the country below. At first, the sud lenness of the opening, as it were on to space, the extent of the prospect, and the height one is conscious of having attained, is apt to produce a sensation of giddiness; which a few moments in general suffices to dispel. When about forty yards from the neck of the Peak, a divergence

"The Wanderer in Ceylon." By Captain T. A. ANDERSON.

from the upward path for about the same distance, leads to a rocky cave called Menik-lena, where it is supposed gems of great value may be found.* The top of this so-called cave is a large projecting horizontal slab of rock, in size about 20 feet by 10, of considerable thickness, and about eight feet high from the ground. When seated underneath this, should the possibility of its falling in occur to the mind, a feeling of nervousness may result, which it is as well, at once, resolutely to shake off.

In the neck of the Peak, a temporary shed of bambu and thatch had been put up. This we found crammed choke-full of pilgrims who had preceded us, either going or returning, the latter halting for a short breathing space before attempting the final and most trying part of the pilgrimage. Here once stood the Ehela-kanuwa, or post of the Ehela tree, where the pilgrims were accustomed to register vows, marking them with chunam† on the post, before they made the final ascent. As this post is no longer there, it having either fallen, or been thrown over the precipice, they now content themselves with marking a piece of rock which has been substituted for it.‡

* The name Menik-lena, signifies "the cave of gems."

† Chunam, a fine kind of shell-lime, eaten with betel leaf and arekanut, as a masticatory.

A story goes among the natives, that some seventy or eighty years ago, one of the Ilangakkon Mudaliyars of Matára, went on pilgrimage to the Srí-páda, and proceeded as far as the Ehela kanuwa, when looking up the perpendicular ascent he was struck with fear, and would go no

Passing out from this, we at once came to the Mahagiri-dam-[or dan]-kapala,-" the great-rock-chain-narrowpass"-a ledge with a scant foot-hold and a jutting corner, then a small bare sloping slab, and then the chains, and the ladder, which more than all else affect and test the pilgrims' nerves. This constitutes the final ascent, and is divided into five portions; the sloping slab just mentioned; lengths of chains to assist one up a well nigh perpendicular flight of sixty steps cut in the living rock; another sloping slab of rock, with here and there a few built-up stones; a further flight of forty in-cut steps, still steeper than the last; and a third slab rock immediately outside the wall that encloses the Srí-páda. On either side of the steps several lengths of chains, ten on one side, and the same number on the other, each from six to eight fathoms long, and formed of various large oblong and triangular fashioned links, hang clustering down flat against the side of the nearly vertical cliffs; and by their aid, and, on the topmost flight, the additional assistance of a chain on stanchions forming a low iron balustrade, all are bound to drag themselves up or let themselves down the precipitous wall of rock that forms the pathway to the pilgrims' goal above. Those who prefer it,

further, but returned, cursing Buddha in the most reproachful manner, for being so cruelly unkind as to place his foot-print on so dangerous a place; remarking at the same time, how much better it would have been had he left the impression of his foot on a stone at the field of Batugedara, the village next to Ratnapura, on the opposite bank of the Kalu ganga.

may indeed, at one spot, take a slightly different but more awfully perilous route, up a broad iron ladder close by, fixed neither straight on, nor at an angle in front of, but at a slant falling to the right, sideways from the rock; the slightest slip from which will hurl the pilgrim to destruction in the abyss below. And up this ladder one of our party actually inade the ascent. I did not see him, being in the rear, and too busy on my own account to pay much attention to the proceedings of others; but when I saw the ladder, its hang to one side made me shudder, and I gladly turned to the chains. When about half way up the final flight, down came a company of returning pilgrims. To proceed onwards was impossible, and to recede I dare not; so clutching firm hold of the chains with both hands, with the toes of one foot hitched on to a step, and those of the other pressing against the bare vertical rock, I swung aside until all had passed, and then swarmed up with an alacrity which made me wonder at myself. Arrived at the top, I was heartily congratulated by my companions as I entered the opening in the southern angle of the wall which surrounds the platform, from the midst of which springs the mass of gneiss and hornblende that bears on its top the far-famed impress -- the "SRI′-PA'DA”— to behold which we had thus far toiled and won our way.

We now had time to look about us and mark the novelty of the scene. The platform or terrace round the central rock is enclosed by an irregular hexagonal wall, five feet high, and about seventy feet in length from the northeastern to the southeastern angle, by forty-five feet across

at its greatest breadth. Gigantic rhododendrons overhang the wall on the eastern side of the Peak. Their bending trunks seem, to the Buddhist mind, to bow to the foot-print; and to offer, in homage and adoration, their wealth of crowning crimson flowers to the pedal impress of the founder of their faith. The area within the walls, as well as the central rock itself, was crowded with devotees. Numerous streamers, and flags of quaint and strange device, flaunted in the breeze, suspended from the chains which serve as stays to support and protect the temple roof against the violence of the monsoon winds; and many additional ones were hung on ropes temporarily rove here and there. On a jutting point of rock, a few paces from the entrance gap in the wall, was a shrine three feet in height, dedicated to Saman Dewiyó, the tutelary deity of the district, at whose request Buddha came hither and stamped his foot-print on the pinnacle immediately above; and thither every pilgrim rushed to fall prostrate in adoration, as soon as he or she had gained the level of the terrace, as well as to deposit certain offerings brought with them for the occasion.

Behind, and a little above this shrine, is the Kudamita, a large iron stanchion let into a crevice in the rock, on which, in former times it was customary, during the pilgrim season, to fix the silver-handled umbrella which is now kept at the Saman Déwálé in Ratnapura.

Standards, supporting from a series of spreading iron branches circle above circle of big tin lamps, each threw their cumulated glare in front of the shrine, and of the steps