d
for Vernag. And this was the order of our going. She and I led the way,
attended by a sais (groom) and a coolie carrying the luncheon basket.
Half way we would stop in some green dell, or by some rushing stream,
and there rest and eat our little meal while the rest of the cavalcade
passed on to the appointed camping place, and in the late afternoon we
would follow, riding slowly, and find the tents pitched and the kitchen
department in full swing. If the place pleased us we lingered for some
days;--if not, the camp was struck next morning, and again we wandered
in search of beauty.

The people were no inconsiderable part of my joy. I cannot see what they
have to gain from such civilization as ours--a kindly people and happy.
Courtesy and friendliness met us everywhere, and if their labor was
hard, their harvest of beauty and laughter seemed to be its reward. The
little villages with their groves of walnut and fruit trees spoke of no
unfulfilled want, the mulberries which fatten the sleek bears in their
season fattened the children too. I compared their lot with that of
the toilers in our cities and knew which I would choose. We rode by
shimmering fields of barley, with red poppies floating in the clear
transparent green as in deep sea water, through fields of millet like
the sky fallen on the earth, so innocently blue were its blossoms,
and the trees above us were trellised with the wild roses, golden and
crimson, and the ways tapestried with the scented stars of the large
white jasmine.

It was strange that later much of what she said, escaped me. Some I
noted down at the time, but there were hints, shadows of lovelier things
beyond that eluded all but the fringes of memory when I tried to piece
them together and make a coherence of a living wonder. For that reason,
the best things cannot be told in this history. It is only the cruder,
grosser matters that words will hold. The half-touchings--vanishing
looks, breaths--O God, I know them, but cannot tell.

In the smaller villages, the head man came often to greet us and make
us welcome, bearing on a flat dish a little offering of cakes and fruit,
the produce of the place. One evening a man so approached, stately
in white robes and turban, attended by a little lad who carried the
patriarchal gift beside him. Our tents were pitched under a glorious
walnut tree with a running stream at our feet.

Vanna of course, was the interpreter, and I called her from her tent as