DAWN ON THE MOUNTAIN 97 



Then, almost before we have realised it, the 

 eastward-facing scarps of the highest peaks are 

 struck with rays of mingled rose and gold, and 

 gleam like heavenly realms set high above the still 

 night-enveloped world below. Farther and farther 

 along the line, deep and deeper down it, the flush 

 extends. The sapphire of the sky slowly lightens 

 in its hue. The pale yellow of the starlight be- 

 comes merged in the gold of dawn. White billowy 

 mists of most delicate softness imperceptibly form 

 themselves in the valley depths and float up the 

 mountain-sides. The deep hum of insect life, the 

 chirping of the birds, the sounds of men, begin to 

 break the Kush of night. The snows become a 

 delicate pink, the valleys are flooded with purple 

 light, the sky becomes intensest blue, and the sun 

 at last itself appears above the mountains, and the 

 ardent life of day vibrates once more. 



In the full glare of day the mountains are not 

 seen at their very best. The best time of all to see 

 them is in the evening. If we go out a little from 

 Darjiling into the forest to some secluded spur we 

 can enjoy an evening of rare felicity. On the edge 

 of the spur the forest is more open. The ground is 

 covered with grass and flowers and plants with 

 many-coloured leaves. Rich orchids and tender 

 ferns and pendant mosses clothe the trees. Grace- 

 ful vines and creepers festoon themselves from 

 bough to bough. The air is fragrant with the 

 scent of flowers. Bright butterflies flutter noise- 

 lessly about. The soft purr of forest life drones 

 around. Rays from the setting sun slant across the 

 scene. The leaves in their freshest green and of 



