A VISIT TO THE MAHARAJA. 119 



morning, with a foot of snow around. Alan, with much 

 regret, had his beard removed, and for the first time for 

 weeks I got my hair curled : so when we descended for 

 breakfast our shikaris hardly recognised us. 



Daylight takes away none of the charm of this place. 

 The town is built between two ranges of hills, on a little 

 plain high above the river, and just big enough for a long 

 grass polo ground. At either end the valley contracts, and 

 is shut in by snow-topped mountains. The palace, a big 

 white building, stands high up on the hill side. At one 

 end of the town is a well-built, clean looking hospital. At 

 the other end, shaded by fine trees, our house, the Resi- 

 dency. This latter is a large two-storied wooden chalet 

 with wide verandahs, and balconies festooned with purple 

 bougainvillias and other bright-hued creepers. It stands in 

 a beautiful garden, high above the river, and bounded by a 

 long terrace walk looking down the ravine. 



In the afternoon we went to pay a visit of ceremony to 

 the Maharaja. We pass the principal bazaar, which is built 

 on two sides of the green, under long low stone colonnades, 

 with steps leading down to it. Here grain and various 

 wares are spread outside unguarded, while the shopkeepers, 

 with simple faith, apparently pass most of their time 

 chatting and amusing themselves elsewhere. No one seems 

 very busy, yet all look cheery and well-to-do. A crowd 

 of people pass to and fro dressed in every colour, bright red 



