Chapter Fifteen 
INDIA 
HE winter of 1935 was approaching and something in the 
air told me it was time to be off. Thank heaven fate had 
decreed that I was to be collector—free to go anywhere that fancy 
led me. Why not the Himalayas? Here were forests, scenery, 
lovely birds, tea plantations and distant snows. What more could 
one wish for? Delys needed no coaxing; she could hardly wait 
to set forth. 
Setting off on such an expedition sounds easy enough, but when 
visiting a stretch of country such as the Himalayan foothills, 
which stretch right across the Indian continent, it is a problem 
to know which locality is likely to prove the most suitable. Our 
choice fell on the Darjeeling area in the foothills of the great 
mountains, and more or less due north of Calcutta. 
Traveling from Bombay, where we disembarked, across the hot 
dusty interior of India to Calcutta was certainly an experience, 
though anything but a pleasant one. Bodies, baggage, clothes, and 
seats became so dust-covered as to be almost unrecognizable. At 
various stations a sweeper would scuttle in and sweep out piles 
of dust while passengers took refuge on the platform, but this 
was just a formality which really added little or nothing to one’s 
comfort. It was, of course, before the advent of the air-conditioned, 
dust-proof coaches that passengers enjoy at the present day. 
Calcutta with its heat and teeming population, all seemingly 
bent on ejecting betel-stained spittle on to the pavements and any- 
one who got in the way, did not appeal to me very much, but at 
least the Alipore Zoo was nearby and this helped us to while away 
the time while we made inquiries and arrangements for the trip 
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