squalid collection of huts, but becomes a bustling centre of life when, as in the days of the great Jung Bahadur, it was made the rendezvous for a tiger, rhino, or elephant hunt. Near by, rippling over a rocky bed, is the Rapti River, and three miles farther on, where it is joined by the Samri, is a useful suspension bridge.
Here, close to the village of Separi Tar, the sporting appearance of the river, which was of a nature to harbour mahseer or snow-trout of a good size, tempted one to fish the waters with a spoon-bait and other lures. But in spite of every endeavour the result of many hours' desperate labour was but the solace—
"With patient heart
To sit alone, and hope and wait,
Nor strive in any wise with fate,"
when a cheery Nepali officer riding by dismounted and commenced a conversation. After the usual salutations and conventionalities, the subject of sport was broached, and eventually the prospects of fishing in Nepal. He assured us that there were fish to be caught, and that in several places he had
