KASHMIR VALLEYS 193 



me at my small board, trails of clematis, picked low down 

 on the hillside, wound about the dimly sketched out 

 vacant places, for no native servant, however scanty 

 his store of serving wares, can set a table without a 

 suggestion of four places, the ghostly companions of 

 the master or mistress. Of the courses, their number 

 and variety has left no lasting impression; suffice it 

 that, however unused the ingredients, the results were 

 excellent, and when savoury eggs of a new order had 

 been reached and there were still symptoms of more to 

 follow, I could only cry "hold," for I had partaken 

 largely of everything, fearing it might be the finale 

 of the menu. How much of that dinner was legitimately 

 mine, and how much had been filched from a small 

 encampment across the merg, whose owner had been 

 called away for two days, I never cared to consider. 



I congratulated the cook, but he remained doubtful 

 of his future and was without confidence in the present 

 arrangement. " The Memsahib must eat, therefore 

 there had been dinner, and who could cook but himself, 

 but there was certainty that on the morrow such a 

 climate would have consummated his final collapse, and 

 then the fate of all the camp would be but a matter of 

 hours." 



The prospect was dreary, but it was impossible to 

 be long depressed in such surroundings. A young moon 

 was hidden at times by rushing clouds, swept by the 

 fitful wind that, whistling among the trees low down 

 on the hillside, filled the air with a bustling murmur like 

 the roll of the distant sea. As the light shone clear, 

 or was overcast, so the merg was lost in deepest gloom, 

 or showed the rises and depressions that broke up the 

 surface. As night closed in, the breeze had a warmer 



