We now discharged our Veddah guides, and took on others from Oomanoo.

These men told us that we were only four miles from the Batticaloa road, and with great glee we started at break of day, determined to breakfast on arrival at the road.
The old adage of 'Many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip' was here fully exemplified.

Four miles! We rode twenty-five miles without drawing the rein once! and at length we then did reach the road; that is to say, a narrow track of grass, which is the track to Batticaloa for which we had been steering during our journey.

A native but in this wilderness rendered the place worthy of a name; it is therefore known upon the Government maps as 'Pyeley.' From this place we were directed on to 'Curhellulai,' a village represented to us as a small London, abounding with every luxury.

We obtained a guide and started, as they assured us it was only two miles distant.
After riding three miles through a country of open glades and thick jungle, the same guide who had at first told us it was two miles from 'Pyeley,' now said it was only 'three miles farther on.' We knew these fellows' ideas of distance too well to proceed any farther.