i88 THE FORESTS OF UPPER INDIA 



walk on the very edge even where the path was wide ; it 

 seemed their nature. Riding day after day with one leg 

 hanging over space, and only the sure-footedness of a 

 pony to rely on, became the ordinary condition of travel- 

 ling. Only once have I known an unridden pony to go 

 down, and that was on a gravel face where the bank gave 

 under him. He retained his balance and slithered down 

 about 30 feet, and pulled up on a ledge of grass, where he 

 grazed unconcernedly. Once when riding up a very steep 

 place, where a narrow path led over the head of a quite 

 perpendicular khud, where I should have dismounted but 

 for a strained ankle which I was saving, my best gray 

 pony, a stoutly-made Bhotia, about 13 hands, with un- 

 shod feet like iron, scrambled on the brink. I slipped 

 off on the hillside and tried to save the poor beast, but 

 he could not recover his legs, and rolled over twice before 

 he was pulled up against a small chir-tree just overhanging 

 the precipice. We climbed down to him, and I tied his 

 leg to a root to help him to stick. His head was out 

 overhanging the khud, and he lay quite still, every muscle 

 strained to keep his position. The syce ran to a village 

 for ropes, and brought men, who pulled him up again 

 none the worse. He neighed to me when I praised him for 

 lying so still. He was a good and faithful companion, 

 who accompanied me on many marches. When riding 

 a long dak quickly, I usually took two ponies. I rode 

 one, and the other trotted on after, unled. When one had 

 done his share I changed to the other. When walking, 

 it was advisable to let one go ahead and the other follow, 

 as if both ran ahead they would sometimes go too fast, 

 and one had to walk further than one wanted to. One 

 syce was usually sent on running some hours before the 

 start, and the other ran behind. Thus thirty miles could 

 easily be done in a day, or forty at a pinch. 



