54 A Sportswoman in India 



had enough for one morning, or that at least the ponies 

 had, and were therefore contented to hark quietly back 

 along the road to Peshawur, under the sun which was 

 even at that early hour beginning to feel hot. 



At home by which I mean in England after a 

 good day's hunt, when an acceptable dinner has come 

 to an end, we sink into the depths of the best-cushioned 

 arm-chair, and in the warm firelight gallop once more 

 across the grass country of fancy, and jump with 

 consummate ease the vast fences which invariably 

 enclose the happy hunting-grounds of dreams. Though 

 we do things differently in the Shiny, they do not 

 compare so ill after all with the old originals ; and that 

 morning in Peshawur was quite a thing not to be 

 forgotten, when, after discussing a very solid breakfast, 

 we all found ourselves stretched in long cane chairs 

 outside in the shady bungalow garden, among scented 

 orange-trees and great palms, with iced drinks at 

 our elbows, discussing the whole morning's ride from 

 first to last, and reading each his English mail, which 

 was just in. Then towards tea-time we strolled down 

 to the club for tennis and racquets, loafing and 

 coffee, meeting together again once more the self- 

 same party who only a few hours before had ridden 

 together, fallen together, cursed and admired each 

 other, followed and led one another after the best 

 pack of hounds in Asia. The band played gaily 

 while Society gossiped ; all the latest home papers 

 were read, and the tennis-courts were in great request. 

 By-and-by '* God save the Queen." (I wonder how 



