2O4 Sport and Life in the Further Himalaya 



How did we spend the long hours that inter- 

 vened between our morning's climb and the next 

 scene in the drama, not enacted till the sun had 

 long begun to slope westward ? The view a sea 

 of tossing white-crested mountains, the near ones 

 full of black-and-white contrasts, fading gradually 

 into the dim blue battlements at the horizon ; de- 

 sultory scraps of talk ; lunch tobacco unfortun- 

 ately no temptation at that altitude. At one 

 time an eagle came to the rescue. We had first 

 heard the singing of the wind in his feathers as 

 he moved across the sky high above us. As he 

 played with the current of air, each of the strong 

 terminal feathers of his great wings and tail 

 seemed, as I watched him through the glasses, 

 to have its independent duty. Would man's in- 

 genuity even in cycles of years produce anything 

 to compare with Nature's perfected aeroplane, in 

 the evolution of which countless years and un- 

 limited material had been expended ? The prob- 

 lem was still unsolved when he sailed away out 

 of sight. 



Far below us a dark thread winds slowly along 

 the sinuous valley. It is a party of traders re- 

 turning to Yarkand with their caravan of Indian 

 goods. It is a queer instinct which drives these 

 people year after year to far Indian seaports 

 an infinity of pains and little profit, scarcely 



