CHAPTER III 



FROM DALHOUSIE INTO CHAMBA. 



ROAD-SONG OF THE BANDER-LOG (MONKEYS). 



Here we go in a flung festoon, 



Half-way up to the jealous moon ! 



Don't you envy our pranceful bands ? 



Don't you wish you had extra hands ? 



Wouldn't you like if your tails were so 



Curved in the shape of a Cupid's bow ? 

 Now you're angry, but never mind, 

 Brother ; thy tail hangs down behind ! 



RUDYARD KIPLING. 



OUR visit to Peshawur over, we went back 

 again to Mian Mir before going up to the 

 hills with Sir George Wolseley. Mian Mir was, as 

 they say, " stoking up " by that time, and from 

 breakfast till tea-time the bungalow was entirely shut 

 up to keep out the hot air ; every wooden shutter 

 was closed, and there was not sufficient light in the 

 rooms for painting, for instance, in spite of all the 

 hours to be whiled away. Those hours began after a 

 late breakfast ; we got up and rode about seven o'clock, 

 fortified with chota hazri, until the sun drove us in, 

 where one was bound to remain till after tea. 



Lunch was a thing unsought for in the hot weather : 

 the General and his aide-de-camp had their work to 



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