PASSERS-BY 217 



summer in the hills, where maybe they had been 

 quartered in dripping tents, at some lonely 

 station, with little level space for games. It 

 was a quaint surprise to see suddenly below me 

 all those English faces, when for days I had 

 been out of sight or reach of any European. 



I think it was the big white bulldog that 

 first noticed me. There he sat in the cart, care- 

 fully balancing himself on the top of a huge pile 

 of miscellaneous objects, giving an air of immense 

 dignity and importance to the whole procession. 

 He was a nice dog, but his one pink eye and 

 short disdainful nose were turned on me at once 

 with evident disapproval. " What was I doing 

 there ? " he seemed to say. " Not at all the 

 sort of place to find a white muslin frock and 

 gay parasol. What could my occupation be ? " 

 Had he known, I fear it would hardly have 

 improved matters. Being military, he would 

 naturally look on art with suspicion : art such 

 a queer thing to interest any one ; and who 

 could wish to stay and paint in an old Mughal 

 bagh ? If it were sport, now, that kept me 

 there, he would have understood of course ; or 

 an interest in natural history would have been 

 easily understandable, for the study of the 



