We saw all the racehorses returning from their morning gallop, and were enlightened by the syces as to their names and respective owners.  There were several people, a great deal of luggage, and, though last not least, Her Majesty’s mails, all waiting, like us, for the coach.  About a quarter to seven a message arrived, to the effect that the horses would not come up the hill, they had been jibbing for more than an hour, so would we kindly go down to the coach.  A swarm of coolies immediately appeared from some mysterious hiding-place, and conveyed us all, bag and baggage, down the hill, and packed us into the coach.  Even this concession on our part did not induce the horses to make up their minds to move for at least another quarter of an hour.  Then we had to stop at the hotel to pick up somebody else; but at last we had fairly started, eleven people in all, some inside and some perched on a box behind.  The horses were worse than ever, tired to death, poor things; and as one lady passenger was very nervous and insisted on walking up all the acclivities, we were obliged to make up our pace down the hills.  The Pass looked lovely by daylight, and the wild flowers were splendid, especially the white datura and scarlet rhododendron trees, which were literally covered with bloom.

By daylight, the appearance of the horses was really pitiable in the extreme—­worn-out, half-starved wretches, covered with wounds and sores from collars and harness, and with traces of injuries they inflict on themselves in their struggles to get free.  When once we had seen their shoulders, we no longer wondered at their reluctance to start; it really made one quite sick to think even of the state they were in.

If some of the permanent officials were to devote a portion of their time to endeavours to introduce American coaches, and to ameliorate the condition of the horses on this road, they would indeed confer a boon on their countrymen.  The coachman, who was as black as jet, and who wore very little clothing, was a curious specimen of his class, and appeared by no means skilled in his craft.  He drove the whole way down the steep zigzag road with a loose rein; at every turn the horses went close to the precipice, but were turned in the very nick of time by a little black boy who jumped down from behind and pulled them round by their traces without touching the bridle.  We stopped at Rangbodde to breakfast, and again at Pusillawa.  This seemed a bad arrangement, for we were already late; it resulted in the poor horses having to be unmercifully flogged in order to enable us to catch the train at Gampola, failing which, the coach proprietors would have had to pay a very heavy penalty.

From Gampola we soon arrived at Peradeniya, where we met Mr. Freer, who was going down to Colombo.  Tom had decided previously to go straight on, so as to have the yacht quite ready for an early start to-morrow.  I in the meantime went to our former hosts for one night to pick up Mabelle and the waifs and strays of luggage.