32 THE FOREST 



around us. At almost every turn we come across 

 something new yet not wholly unfamiliar. And 

 standing out especially in our memory of this region 

 will be the sight of a gigantic lily rearing itself ten 

 feet high in the forest, and as pure in its perfect 

 whiteness as if it had been grown in a garden. It is 

 the Lilium giganteum, and it has fourteen flowers 

 on a single stalk and each 4-J inches long and the 

 same across. 



We still love most of all the white violets we 

 have as children picked in an English wood, and 

 even this great white lily will never supplant them 

 in our affections. But the sight of that glorious 

 plant rising proudly from amidst the greenery of 

 its forest setting will be for us more than any 

 picture. And its being "wild" has the same 

 fascination for us that a flower that is "wild," 

 and not garden grown, has for a child. In a florist's 

 shop we may see lilies even more beautiful than this, 

 but the enjoyment we get from seeing the florist's 

 production bears no comparison whatever with the 

 enjoyment we get from seeing this lily in a distant 

 Himalayan forest where not so many white men 

 ever go. We often have experiences which per- 

 ceptibly age us. But this is one of those experiences 

 which most certainly make us younger. We are 

 once again children finding flowers in a wood. 



As we proceed upward the valley opens out, the 

 mountains recede and are less steep. They are also 

 less wooded, their slopes become more covered with 

 grass, and the river, no longer a raging torrent, 

 now meanders in a broad bed. The great peaks are 

 somewhere close by, but we do not see the highest, 



