s rose behind the tender green fringe of the young
willows.

As we swept on, the lake widened. On the left a network of water lanes
threaded the maze of low-growing brushwood and whispering reeds, and round
us extended the half-submerged patches of soil which form the celebrated
"floating gardens" of the lake. From any point of view except the
utilitarian, these gardens are a fraud. A combination of matted and
decaying water-plants, mud, and young cabbages kept in place by rows and
thickets of willow scrub, is curious, but not lovely; and our eyes turned
away to where Hari Parbat raised his crown of crumbling forts above the
native city, or to the mysterious ruins of Peri Mahal, clinging like a
swallow's nest to the shelving slopes above Gupkar.

"Still onward; and the clear canal
Is rounded to as clear a lake;"

and we emerged from the willow-fringed water lanes, and saw across the
wider shield of glistering water the white cube of the Nishat Bagh
Pavilion--the Garden of Joy, made for Jehangir the Mogul--standing by the
water's edge, and at its foot a great throng and clutter of boats, amidst
whose snaky prows we pushed our way and landed, something stiff after
sitting for two hours in a cramped shikara.

Other guests--some thirty in all--were arriving, either like us by boat,
or by carriage _via_ Gupkar, and we strolled in groups up the sloping
gardens, which still show, in their wild and unrestrained beauty, the
loving touch of the long-vanished hand of the Mogul.

Down seven wide grassy terraces a series of fountains splashed and
twinkled in the sun. Broad chenars, just beginning to break into leaf,
gave promise of ample shade against the day when the blaze should become
overpowering. So far so good, but the grass that bordered the path was not
the sweet green turf of an English lawn, and the way was edged by big
earthen pots, into which were hastily stuck wisps of iris blooms and
Persian lilac. The topmost terrace widened out, enclosing a large basin of
clear water, in the middle of which played a fountain. On one side was
raised a marquee, revealing welcome preparations for lunch. On the
opposite side of the fountain a profusion of chairs, shaded by a great
awning, stood expectantly facing a bandstand. Here we were welcomed by His
Highness, a somewhat small man with exceedingly neat legs and an enormous
white pugaree, in his customary gracious manner.

It was now half-past two, and we had breakfasted ear