APRIL 1st.--We had a very fair breakfast at one of the refreshment-rooms, and were fortunate enough to have a moderately cool day. The railway strikes the River Indus at Kotree, opposite Hyderabad, and runs parallel with the river to Sukkur, about 10 miles short of which places, at a station called Ruk, we turned off on to the branch line for Sibi, which, passing through Shikarpore, reaches Jacobabad in about 36 miles from the junction. The whole of Sind, for want of water, is a desolate, dusty waste, with but few trees, but the whole country covered with a low underwood which would possibly be green were it not for the heavy coat of dust which is always on it. There is little or no cultivation, except where water is obtainable from canals or wells, and consequently there are but few houses or villages, and one may go for miles without seeing a living creature. Even birds seem to think Sind too dreadful a place to live in. Shikarpore, which is a very large village, is a remarkable place, as poor and squalid as it looks it is inhabited by some of the richest men in India, native bankers, who trade with all parts of the world, having their correspondents in every great city in Europe, Asia, and America; and in this dirty village, in the middle of the jungles of Sind, an order for £1,000 could be obtained on London, Paris, St. Petersburg, or New York without the slightest difficulty. Shikarpore used in past days to be the great mart to which all the merchandise of Central Asia came, and from there was passed on, on the backs of camels, to Calcutta and Bombay, and from there to Europe and America. A railway to Kandahar will, of course, ruin Shikarpore, and even now it has begun to lose its importance. 26 miles beyond Shikarpore we came to Jacobabad (or the town of Jacob), so named after General Jacob, an officer of the Bombay Army, who, some 40 years ago, established a military station at the place which was then known as Khanpur, since which time 3 Native Cavalry Regiments and 1 Native Infantry Regiment has always been kept at Jacobabad, as a frontier station, to keep the wild tribes which live in the surrounding hills in order. At Jacobabad we were met by the officer commanding who had prepared dinner for us, which, with a bottle of champagne, we found very refreshing, after 24 hours of dust and heat in the train. At half-past eight o'clock, p.m., we started again, and nine miles from Jacobabad entered on the Kutchi Desert which proved on this occasion to be singularly cool and pleasant, and we all slept with much satisfaction until half-past four, a.m., on the 2nd April (Friday) when we were woke up by the cry of "Sibi," "Sibi," to which we added "change here for Quetta and Kandahar." It was quite cold when we arrived, and we kept under our rugs and blankets until it began to get light, when we turned out to collect our things, and get the horses disembarked. The line goes on to about 8 miles from Sibi to a place called the Nari Gorge (you will see the Nari River on the map), but as this would take us several miles to the right of the direct road to Quetta, and into very wild and dangerous country, travellers are required to get out at Sibi and follow the more circuitous route by the Bolan Pass to Quetta. The