he peaks when I turned in.

The days that were left we spent in wandering up the Lidar River to the
hills that are the first ramp of the ascent to the great heights.
We found the damp corners where the mushrooms grow like pearls--the
mushrooms of which she said--"To me they have always been fairy things.
To see them in the silver-grey dew of the early mornings--mysteriously
there like the manna in the desert--they are elfin plunder, and as a
child I was half afraid of them. No wonder they are the darlings of
folklore, especially in Celtic countries where the Little People move in
the starlight. Strange to think they are here too among strange gods!"

We climbed to where the wild peonies bloom in glory that few eyes see,
and the rosy beds of wild sweet strawberries ripen. Every hour brought
with it some new delight, some exquisiteness of sight or of words that
I shall remember for ever. She sat one day on a rock, holding the
sculptured leaves and massive seed-vessels of some glorious plant that
the Kashmiris believe has magic virtues hidden in the seeds of pure rose
embedded in the white down.

"If you fast for three days and eat nine of these in the Night of No
Moon, you can rise on the air light as thistledown and stand on the peak
of Haramoukh. And on Haramoukh, as you know it is believed, the gods
dwell. There was a man here who tried this enchantment. He was a changed
man for ever after, wandering and muttering to himself and avoiding all
human intercourse as far as he could. He was no Kashmiri--A Jat from the
Punjab, and they showed him to me when I was here with the Meryons, and
told me he would speak to none. But I knew he would speak to me, and he
did."

"Did he tell you anything of what he had seen in the high world up
yonder?"

"He said he had seen the Dream of the God. I could not get more than
that. But there are many people here who believe that the Universe as
we know it is but an image in the dream of Ishvara, the Universal
Spirit--in whom are all the gods--and that when He ceases to dream we
pass again into the Night of Brahm, and all is darkness until the Spirit
of God moves again on the face of the waters. There are few temples to
Brahm. He is above and beyond all direct worship."

"Do you think he had seen anything?"

"What do I know? Will you eat the seeds? The Night of No Moon will soon
be here."

She held out the seed-vessels, laughing. I write that down but how
record the lovely light of