26 AFOOT THROUGH THE 



CHAPTER III 



In paths untrodden, 



In the growth by margins of pond-waters, 



Escaped from the life that exhibits itself. 



Here by myself, away from the clank of the world, 



Talking and talk'd to by tongues aromatic. 



W. Whitman. 



Lazy hours I cry " Excelsior," but the snows say " No " Back 

 to towns A sheep is sacrificed Shrines passed -And the 

 chapter ends with song. 



Two or three days were passed at Bandipura strolling 

 about, for I scarcely felt at first up to very long marches, 

 painting collections of flowers, trying to realise that I was 

 " living " in this stageland, that all the folk around me 

 were passing their time in their natural associations 

 among their usual surroundings, not merely posing and 

 " acting pretty " on a painted scene for the benefit of 

 the lady in the stalls! Day after day the sun shone 

 brilliantly, the snows retreated slowly up the mountains, 

 fresh flowers came out, trees showed a brighter green, 

 the serious business of the rice crop, the " kushaba " was 

 begun upon. Passing through the villages, where the 

 wooden houses were almost hidden by the huge walnut 

 and chenaar trees, or resting on the edge of one of the 



