THE PIR PUNJAL 79 



All around the sweet-scented wood gives forth its 

 treasures. 



On the treeless edges of the valley the starry 

 edelweiss shines pure and white, whilst at her feet, 

 on a soft green carpet, violets, forget-me-nots, irises, 

 primulas, and tulips spread their many-hued rays 

 myriads of rubies, sapphires, and pearls ! A glisten- 

 ing girdle of gardens in the midst of a desolate 

 highland wilderness, enlivened by the gentle hum- 

 ming of bees as they skim from flower to flower. 

 Nature has it all her own way here no need for her 

 to make room for the greed of gold, which cuts the 

 flowers, fells the trees, and ploughs the fields with 

 an unloving, uncaring hand. Here, in the intoxica- 

 tion of Spring, Nature's children laugh and play and 

 tease each another in the most charming of mas- 

 querades, each one dressed in his or her Sunday 

 best. 



The flowers make the most of this their one 

 chance, for they have but these few short days to 

 rejoice and bloom and shed their sweet scent around 

 them. June and July are the only two months free 

 from frost and snow. What a wrestle of Nature's 

 eternal youth with the rotting, destroying strength 

 of reality from which none of us are spared ! 



No human being lives here. All the louder do 

 the waters splash and the birds sing ; all the more do 

 the butterflies skim about, the squirrels bustle, the 

 bees hum, and the gnats tease in the wkchery of the 



