62 THE MARKHOR 



omelette over the open fire. And this chipatti is the 

 invariable menu of these poor creatures from year's 

 end to year's end. If they can ever succeed in pro- 

 curing such additions as vegetables, fruit, berries, 

 herbs, fish, or meat, they are simply rolled up in the 

 paste. But how few of them ever have anything 

 to roll ! 



They all talk a lot at the top of their voices, whilst 

 the food is conveyed by their fingers into their wide- 

 open mouths to the accompaniment of much lively 

 gesticulation. They seem to be trying to out-scream 

 one another, and an onlooker would certainly think 

 they were quarrelling violently. As a matter of fact, 

 they never get excited, and the subject of their con- 

 versation is utterly unimportant. The poor devils are 

 only rejoicing that the heat and burden of the day 

 are past, and that they can at last enjoy their rest and 

 chipatti whether rolled or empty, more especially 

 as this evening meal is their chief meal of the day. 



An Indian day is only twice enlivened by the joys 

 of the table ; but the meagre refreshment taken in 

 the middle of the day is made up for by uncomfort- 

 ably large portions in the evening. I am continually 

 astonished at the amount of millet-cake and fresh 

 water which are consumed in our camp on all sides 

 with ease and comfort. 



Gradually the noise becomes hushed, the fires die 

 down, and Night makes good her claims. 



Long after the privileged are sleeping peacefully 



