100 AFOOT THROUGH THE 



snow mound remained, and, in fact, had widened, but 

 jumping down has not the terrors of the reverse 

 movement. For many miles there was nothing of great 

 interest to note, but so many days of marching were 

 beginning to tell, and I found the last mile or two into 

 Gagangair very long. To my dismay and annoyance, 

 when I arrived at that beautiful camping-ground, 

 expecting a rest under the shade of its magnificent 

 walnuts, not a sign of my camp was to be seen my 

 men had passed me early in the day when I was flower- 

 hunting. A sleepy coolie dragged himself up out of a 

 hut and remarked that he had been left behind to show 

 the Sahib the rest of the way, as they had gone on to 

 Revel, knowing I should like that ground best. Well 

 did I understand their little trick. Afraid that if 

 they remained behind to consult me as to my wishes 

 they would be ordered to stay at Gagangair, they had 

 pushed on to Bevel, having heard probably that some 

 other camp was there, for, above all things, a native 

 loves society. I was in a dilemma, for if I did not 

 weakly give in, but held out and satisfied myself that 

 I was showing moral strength, the probabilities were 

 that I might have many hours to wait before my things 

 arrived, and there would be no dinner procurable. So, 

 most reluctantly, I put my pride in my pocket, and tried 

 to march on the least used-up portions of my very weary 

 feet; but I wondered whether six miles had ever been 

 so long drawn out, though luckily, for a greater part 

 of the way, the track was beautifully shaded by trees, 

 and though rough, not too much on the lines of a 

 switchback, the general slope descending. Some roses 

 had appeared to add their decorating graces since I 

 had last passed, and there was a promise in the air of 



