A HIMALAYAN VALLEY 5 



to miniature. Seeming clumps of greenery are forests, 

 villages are cities, and glistening threads are noble 

 rivers. All are dimmed beneath a haze of shimmering 

 heat. Further and further we trace this sea of land 

 into the hot mists that envelop it, till, in the far 

 horizon, sky joins plain through the quivering haze 

 and heaven and earth seem one. 



Such is the distant prospect from a peak in Southern 

 Hazara. The nearer view is a less imposing one. 

 The sub- Himalaya that stands around is built on a 

 less rugged scale. Peaks and ridges of eight to ten 

 thousand feet in height rise from broad fertile valleys 

 four to five thousand feet below. In parallel ranges 

 they sweep across the country. The higher slopes are 

 clothed in dense forests of conifers, but lower down 

 the dark brown rocks support but little verdure and 

 project in bare unsightly masses through a rank 

 mountain grass. Terraces creep up the sides of the 

 narrow glens or rise like giant steps up the rounded 

 mountain spurs that stretch out into the valleys. 



The cultivated tracts lie far beneath nestling amongst 

 the hills. As fertile plains they spread themselves 

 before the eye. In the spring, when clothed in crops, 

 these valleys are beautifully green and shine with a 

 dazzling yellow from the brilliant fields of mustard. 

 But in the autumn, when the harvest is saved, the 

 green and gold expanse is replaced by a dismal brown. 

 The parched hills then merge into the duller plains ; 

 the forests stand out in pleasing contrast, and here and 

 there dotted over the uninviting valleys are the ceme- 

 teries marked by little clumps of trees, still green or 

 fading into autumn yellow, like oases in a desert. The 

 art of man is evident throughout the scene. Flat- 



