ADVENTURES WITH A CAMERA IX MANY LANDS 



101 



AN OBSERVATION SKAT ON A TRAIN IN BRITISH BALUCHISTAN 



One of the weirdest scenic rotftes in the world lies between Sibi and Quetta. A more 

 direct though steeper route has largely superseded the Harnai loop, but the traveler is well 

 repaid for abandoning the express and taking the trip through the barren hillocks which 

 characterize this part of the world. With the thermometer at 25 degrees, this observation 

 seat affords all the fresh air and wide prospect that any passenger could ask for, but it is 

 only placed on the engine by special order of the railway officials (see text, page 91). 



gladly let me take their pictures, both 

 veiled and unveiled, and although neither 

 would tell me where I could send her a 

 picture direct, I did send photographs to 

 the husband of one, while the other had 

 her picture sent to her . through her 

 camel-driver ! 



AN ENCOUNTER ON THE BATHING BEACH 

 AT DEEHI 



At Delhi there is a long sand-bar beside 

 the River Jumna, where thousands of 

 men and women bathe in the murky 

 water. Here and there are small shelters 

 in which the high-caste women change 

 their saris, but the whole riverside is one 

 vast open-air dressing-room, without a 

 trace of immodesty on the part of any 

 one. Food-sellers and hawkers of toys 

 and notions dot the sands and the whole 

 scene is a blaze of color and movement. 



A six-foot foreigner wearing a glaring 

 white sun helmet and carrying a camera 

 has about as much chance of hiding in 

 ^uch a crowd as the man who sneezes 



while the tenor is climbing to his prize 

 note, but I took several photographs of 

 the crowd without any one showing hos- 

 tility. 



Then there came up a man who, by 

 wearing a spotless turban, a well-pressed 

 Prince Albert, and trousers rolled up to 

 his bare knees, and carrying neat button 

 shoes and ungartered socks in his hand, 

 formed a fit subject for a photograph 

 himself. Strangely enough, it did not 

 occur to me or to him that he would do 

 as a model for an art study. 



He told me that I really ought not to 

 be taking pictures of the people. "Espe- 

 cially the women,'' he said. 



"Why not?" I asked, just as though I 

 was accustomed to seeing the outside 

 world changed into a boudoir. 



"All these women are in purdah. Xo 

 man must look upon them,'' was his start- 

 ling reply. 



"How do you know there are any 

 women here, then?" I asked. 



At that moment a dusky queen passed 



