162 STALKS ABROAD 



across the river. Now, though scarred and broken, 

 the gate still stands, much as it stood then, facing 

 up the white, baked highway to the cool green of the 

 trees which hide the Ridge. 



The narrow red iron bridge across the river pulsed 

 with slow Eastern life ; on one side a flock of sheep, 

 on the other a string of bullock-carts overtopped by 

 supercilious, mincing camels. With all were white 

 muffled figures relieved here and there by the dull 

 gleam of a red-robed woman, splendidly erect, tinkling 

 with metal anklets and rings. In the shrunken 

 stream below a herd of buffaloes swam solemnly, and 

 one no longer wondered at their stiff necks and un- 

 gainly figures. The beautiful blue Indian jay, beloved 

 of the globe-trotter, flashed up into dusty mimosa 

 trees and vied with the kingfishers in the glory of 

 its plumage. Minas strutted industriously about the 

 bare patched earth, intent on nothing in particular. 

 In the distance a pair of grey cranes performed absurd 

 and stilted gymnastics, entirely for their own edifica- 

 tion, with much solemn flapping of wings. An occa- 

 sional tiny bee-sucker flickered past like a living 

 emerald. It was all very strange, but a strangeness 

 to which, alas ! we had become accustomed, and it 

 was not until excited howls of " black-er-buck ! " from 

 the attendant robbers aroused us, that Robert be- 

 trayed any traces of excitement. 



The pretty little antelope were feeding about half 

 a mile from the road in the middle of a flat sun- 

 scorched plain, a couple of small knolls near by alone 



