94 JUNGLE PEACE 



class, but that necessary, unwritten distinction, 

 felt so keenly wherever there is a mingling of 

 race, compelled me to step into a deserted car 

 upholstered in soiled dusty blue. I regretted 

 that I must " save my face," as a Chinaman 

 would say, and not sit on the greasy bare boards 

 of the second-class coach, where fascinating 

 coolie persons sat, squatting on the seats with 

 their heads mixed up with their knees. Desire, 

 prompted by interest and curiosity, drew me to 

 them, and frequently I got up and walked past, 

 listening to the subdued clink of silver bracelets 

 and anklets, and sniffing the wisps of ghee and 

 curry and hemp which drifted out. Nose-rings 

 flashed, and in the dim station light I caught 

 faint gleams of pastel scarves — sea-green and 

 rose. I longed for Kim's disguise, but I knew 

 that before many stations were passed the con- 

 centration of mingled odors would have driven 

 me back to my solitude. Perhaps the chief joy 

 of it all lay in the vignettes of memory which it 

 aroused : that unbelievable hot midnight at Agra ; 

 the glimpse of sheer Paradise in a sunrise on the 

 slopes of Kinchinjunga; the odors of a caravan 

 headed for the Khyber Pass. 



When I returned to my coach I found I was 



