THE PUNCH PASS 75 



drifts, driven thither by the strong wind, surround 

 the pass. 



In vain does the eye here seek high summits, 

 nothing but low hills lying all round, in the 

 form of rocky cupolas and minarets. It is a 

 God- forsaken spot, a mixture of a jungle of low 

 brushwood and bare, desolate high-land covered 

 with snow. 



It is only with difficulty and very slowly that 

 my bearers manage to cover the ground, for their 

 athletic shoulders are heavily burdened. In spite 

 of the cold, their shiny bodies are bathed in sweat. 

 Except for a loin-cloth, they are completely naked. 

 They chatter amongst themselves the whole time 

 and toil and drudge to provide me with comforts 

 later on : a tent to shelter me, a warm bed, food 

 and drink. Poor devils ! Even the snail is only 

 compelled to carry her own house on her back. She 

 is not forced to groan beneath another's burdens 

 and then made to sleep in the open. But you, 

 poor devils, have to sweat and freeze in other 

 men's service for the sake of a paltry two annas ! 



And yet it is just these men who so merci- 

 lessly drive on the poor, hungry sheep and expect 

 them at the same time to get fat for eating. The 

 rich alone feel compassion thanks to an uneasy 

 conscience ! 



At last the bearers are obliged to make a halt 

 and rest. The shikaris and I continue our march. 



