From
there we proceeded up the Gury, a large tributary stream flowing
into the Ganges below Rumpurbolea. During the first few days, the
scenery was monotonous to the highest degree; there were neither
towns nor villages to be seen; the banks were flat, and the prospect
everywhere bounded by tall, thick bushes, which the English term
_jungles_, that is to say, "virgin forests." For my own part, I
could see no "virgin forests," as by this term I understand a forest
of mighty trees. During the night, we heard, from time to time, the
roaring of tigers. These animals are pretty abundant in these
parts, and frequently attack the natives if they happen to remain
out late wooding. I was shown the tattered fragment of a man's
dress, hung upon a bush, to commemorate the fact of a native having
been torn to pieces there by one of these beasts. But they are not
the only foes that man has to dread here; the Ganges contains quite
as deadly ones, namely--the ravenous crocodiles. These may be seen
in groups of six or eight, sunning themselves on the slimy banks of
the river or on the numerous sandbanks.
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