AFOOT THROUGH THE 



sniffled, "as yet it was but two, at two-thirty some 

 tonga would be somewhere, and then it might be 

 possible to get it ; he did not know when it would start ; 

 some time, probably; it always did start, meanwhile it 

 was raining hard"; like a dream creature he 

 vanished, darkness and damp swallowed him up, and 

 I was left limply holding my dressing-box in one hand, 

 rug in the other; no star to brighten my dark world! 

 A sound of wheels was heard, and I attempted talk 

 with the driver a difficiilt process when addresser's 

 " bat " (talk) is none of the most fluent, and addressee 

 has enveloped both ears in a comforter. 



The latter was, however, understood to say that " it 

 might be my tonga, how should a poor Kochwan know ? 

 he was paid to drive Sahibs, any Sahibs ; undoubtedly 

 he would start when all had arrived," he ended with 

 a sniff expressive of many emotions boredom, cold, and 

 a general want of comprehension, and mistrust of all 

 Sahib log. I grunted contemplatively ; it might be the 

 right vehicle, anyway it would afford some shelter, and 

 at the worst one could but be turned out; having 

 decided, in I clambered; the cold was intense, rain 

 continued to fall in sheets, I felt I was reaching the 

 " Promised Land " via Mount Ararat and the Deluge. 

 Presently I heard my dialogue being repeated between 

 the coachman and another anxious passenger. Like 

 myself he decided shelter was more necessary than 

 security of possession, and he clambered into the front, a 

 small terrier scuttling under the seat, where it whim- 

 pered. Life must have appeared to him a limp and 

 sodden thing, and warmth a forgotten joy. Time passed, 

 Kochwan grunting, hound whining, front passenger 

 snoring, then another altercation and a sound of 



