438 
October, 192 
two English sportsmen sitting on the 
veranda. These gentlemen had been 
shooting on the hill above and had 
brought in seven brace of game-birds. 
One of the sahibs was a forest officer, 
and the other in the Gurkhas; the latter 
knew my planter friend, having often 
stayed at his house. Our dinner that 
evening was a very pleasant one, as both 
my companions were keen shikaris. 
The “forester” had slain over sixty 
tigers, and his friend was an old hand 
at mountain game. We sat up till past 
one o’clock “talking shikar,” and I was 
told many an exciting story of tigers, 
panthers, bears, and other wild animals, 
while I spun a few yarns of stag and 
fox-hunting in the west country. 
T T was delightfully crisp and fresh 
* when I started at seven the next 
morning. My acquaintainces were still 
in bed, and having what they called a 
“Europe morning.” The bridle-road 
led through pine forest for some dis- 
tance, when the pines grew scarcer, and 
evergreen oaks and rhododendron trees 
shaded the path. I had been told that 
a fine view of the snows was to be had 
from the first pass, about 7,500 feet, and 
I pushed on, anxious to see the great 
mountains. But I was disappointed, as 
the whole snowy range was hidden in 
woolly white clouds. The road now zig- 
zagged downwards for a thousand feet 
or so, and presently 
I arrived at Ram- 
garh dak bungalow, 
my second stage. 
The next day I 
made a very early 
start, and at Peora 
was treated to a 
magnificent view. 
I stood entranced 
as I gazed at the 
grand heights, 
range beyond range, 
some forest- 
covered, some rol- 
ling and grassy, 
with tremendous 
precipices showing 
here and there, and 
above all the great 
irregular line o f 
snow peaks stand- 
ing clear against the 
bluest of skies. The 
majestic white 
mountains glistened 
in the morning sun, 
and as I watched 
them from the dak 
bungalow verandah 
they gradually 
changed to a chalky 
whiteness, the shad- 
ows disappearing as 
the sun rose higher in the heavens. I 
had my breakfast served in the veran- 
dah so as not to lose a moment of the 
glorious view, and admired the moun- 
tains all the afternoon as the sun slowly 
sank, and blue-green shadows appeared 
on the lower slopes of snow. 
Then, great shadows of the middle 
ranges began to creep slowly forward, 
and to carry the evening right up to the 
foot of the great peaks, and the latter 
gradually changed from purest white to 
a beautiful golden pink. Then the 
splendor faded from east to west, and 
the great chain stood out grey and cold, 
the temperature almost seeming to drop 
as I gazed. But the sun gave the snow- 
peaks one more kiss, as it were, for the 
afterglow lit them up a pale golden tint 
for a few moments, and rapidly died 
away, leaving the mountains dim and 
ghostly against the darkening sky. 
The following morning I viewed the 
snows again, and they looked more 
beautiful still as the rising sun tinted 
them first with opalescent and then with 
rosy hues. Before long they stood out 
white and grand once more, and I 
strolled slowly on and lost sight of them 
as the path led down the hill. A long 
descent to a suspension bridge, and then 
a steep climb of nearly two thousand 
feet brought me to the pretty little Hill 
Station, Almora. The bungalows are 
nicely situated, some on the crest, and 
others on terraces, below a long ridge, 
at about 5,400 feet above sea level. The 
place is prettily planted with deodar 
cedars and other fine trees, among which 
are a number of eucalyptus. The hill- 
sides in the vicinity are rather bare, but 
the ridge leads up to a fine hill called 
Binsar, which is beautifully wooded with 
oak and rhododendron. On Binsar are 
several bungalows which are occupied 
during the summer and autumn. 
Our camp at 9,000 feet altitude in the Himalayas 
Nanda Devi (25,660 feet), the highest 
peak in the British Empire, stands out 
grandly, as also does Nanda Kot, and 
many others, but the most prominent is 
rrisul (23,400 feet), a splendid peak, or 
rather three peaks, connected with a 
sharp ridge ten miles in length. Trisul 
was climbed in June, 1907, and Dr. T. G. 
Longstaff, two Italian guides, and a 
Gurkha stood on the highest point. 
The next day I had a long stage, 
about twenty-five miles, to Kousani' 
where I was hospitably entertained b 
the manager of the large tea plantatio 
there. The view from Kousanie . i 
splendid, quite equal to the view froi 
Peora in extent, and grander, if an) 
thing, as the snows are much neare: 
Again I watched the great peaks g 
through their wonderful and beautifi 
transformation scene. It cannot be ac 
equately described, and no artist coul 
do it justice on canvas. There was 
steep descent next morning to the Bai 
juath valley, and for some miles I los 
sight of the snows, but on reachin 
Gwaldum, another hospitable planter’ 
abode, I saw the great peaks agair 
towering higher and looking more ma 
jestic than ever. Nanda Devi was hid 
den by other giants, but Trisul showe^ 
its massive whiteness, the three peak 
appearing as if closer together whe> 
viewed from a different angle. A fin 
mountain, known as Doonga, a Ion; 
rocky ridge, rising to 13,370 feet, am 
the bare brown uplands above its forest 
clad flanks made a splendid foregroum 
for the great white crests beyond. 
A, PLANTER’S breakfast, usually a 
,rA about eleven o’clock, is calculate! 
to kill even the hunger caused by a Ion; 
ride in the mountain autumn air. I hai 
six miles more to travel, and at twi 
o’clock set off 01 
foot for Telwarie 
Blackmore’s home 
The path lay alon; 
fairly level grounc 
winding round spu 
after spur, clothei 
for the most part ii 
evergreen oak am 
rhododend r o n . 
was informed tha 
in the early sprin; 
the rhododendroi 
trees in their scarle 
and pink blossom: 
are a beautiful sight 
lighting up the som 
bre green of their 
own leaves and tha 
of their neighbors 
the oaks. The busl 
rhododendron grow: 
on the h i g h e 1 
ranges, blooming ii 
April and May 
while the miniature 
the Alpine rose 
blossoms during 
June and July 
cream-col ored or 
the open hillsides 
and pink in the ra- 
vines, on the wi[c 
moors and uplands 
above the forest limit. It flourishes as 
heather does on the moors of our 
islands. About three miles from Gwal- 
dum I suddenly came upon my friend 
Blackmore. He had his gun over his 
shoulder, while his shikari carried a 
rifle and two brace of pheasants. A 
very fine white and tan setter accom- 
panied them, a keen old dog who knew 
all the tricks of game-birds, and was as 
good a retriever as any I have known, 
