lled the Ghiri, below Fagu, the road passes
through beautiful forest and cliff scenery, and for the most part was
fairly easy, until the foot of the mountain was reached about six
miles from the top, when it became very precipitous and difficult. We
were the whole day doing this march, breakfasting in one place and
lunching in another higher up. There was a good deal of snow in the
shady spots. A few days before we had noticed that the top of the
mountain was white, but the sun was still too strong in the daytime
for the snow to lie long in exposed parts. The way being too steep
for my wife to ride or go in a dandy, we all three walked, or rather
climbed, up to the shoulder where our tents were pitched, about a mile
from the summit.

The forest through which we passed was very beautiful, commencing with
dark-green ilex, glistening holly, and sombre brown oak, interspersed
with groups of the dainty, graceful, white-stemmed birch, and wreathed
with festoons of the scarlet Himalayan vine. As we mounted higher,
trees became fewer and the foliage less luxuriant, till at length only
oaks were to be seen, their branches twisted into all sorts of weird,
fantastic shapes from the strength of the south-west monsoon. Huge
rocks became more frequent, covered with lichens and mosses of every
shade, from dark-green to brilliant crimson. At length trees and
shrubs were left behind, except the red-berried juniper, which grows
at a higher elevation here than any other bush, and flourishes in the
clefts of the rocks, where nothing else will exist. We got up in time
to see the most glorious sunset; the colours were more wonderful than
anything I had ever seen before, even in India. My wife urged Baigrie
to make a rough sketch, and note the tints, that he might paint a
picture of it later. He made the sketch, saying: 'If I attempted to
represent truly what we see before us, the painting would be rejected
by the good people at home as absurdly unreal, or as the work of a
hopeless lunatic.' There was such a high wind that our small tents had
a narrow escape of being blown away. That night the water was frozen
in our jugs, and it was quite impossible to keep warm.

We were up betimes the next morning, and climbed to the highest peak,
where we found breakfast awaiting us and a magnificent view of the
Himalayan ranges, right down to the plains on one side and up to the
perpetual snows on the other. We descended to the foot of the mountain
in