8o A Sportswoman in India 



on were waiting ; and after having breakfasted and 

 changed into riding things, we started off to ride to 

 that night's destination Mahmool. 



Do not, I advise you, follow this example, nor be so 

 weak as to start at the hottest time of day, and ride 

 continually, up and up, by a narrow, stony path, rocks, 

 scrub, stones, on either side, off which the sun blazes 

 without mercy, and every stone radiates hot air like 

 an oven. 



We rode at a walk hour after hour, climbing 

 steadily. The last thing a woman ought to have 

 ridden on was a side-saddle, which is invariably un- 

 comfortable for herself and her horse uphill. Mine 

 slipped on the Arab pony continually, until at last, 

 from sheer discomfort, I rode on it crossways. 



The bungalow at Mahmool dawned upon a frizzled 

 and short-tempered party. It was a lovely spot half- 

 way up the hills, but it was not until much u shut eye " 

 had been indulged in, until dinner had been laid out-of- 

 doors in the evening, that the place was appreciated. 



The next morning breakfast in the verandah, and a 

 ride along a shady, winding path up to Dalhousie, has 

 only pleasant recollections. We were under trees, 

 crossing streams where the ponies wallowed their heads 

 in the ice-cold water, and at every turn had views of 

 the great blue plains^ far below us. Our ayah swung 

 along in an extemporised dhooli ; Ruffles, an invalid 

 Irish terrier, had another all to himself, borne by two 

 natives ; the luggage was carried up on coolies' backs. 

 We stopped for tiffin half-way, brought in a basket 



