This is the hottest month, but the air is delightfully clear, and delicious.

The country is very fine, lying in long slopes, with mountains rising all around, from 2000 to 3000 feet above this upland.

They are mostly jagged and rough (not rounded like those near to Mataka's): the long slopes are nearly denuded of trees, and the patches of cultivation are so large and often squarish in form, that but little imagination is requisite to transform the whole into the cultivated fields of England; but no hedgerows exist.

The trees are in clumps on the tops of the ridges, or at the villages, or at the places of sepulture.

Just now the young leaves are out, but are not yet green.