re you
lay at full length on your bedding, but Vixen knew and hopped into her
place at once; Garin following. The Kalka Road, before the railway was
built, was about forty-seven miles long, and the horses were changed
every eight miles. Most of them jibbed, and kicked, and plunged, but
they had to go, and they went rather better than usual for Garm's deep
bay in their rear.

There was a river to be forded, and four bullocks pulled the carriage,
and Vixen stuck her head out of the sliding-door and nearly fell into
the water while she gave directions. Garin was silent and curious,
and rather needed reassuring about Stanley and Kasauli. So we rolled,
barking and yelping, into Kalka for lunch, and Garm ate enough for two.

After Kalka the road wound among the hills, and we took a curricle with
half-broken ponies, which were changed every six miles. No one dreamed
of a railroad to Simla in those days, for it was seven thousand feet up
in the air. The road was more than fifty miles long, and the regulation
pace was just as fast as the ponies could go. Here, again, Vixen led
Garm from one carriage to the other; jumped into the back seat, and
shouted. A cool breath from the snows met us about five miles out of
Kalka, and she whined for her coat, wisely fearing a chill on the
liver. I had had one made for Garm too, and, as we climbed to the fresh
breezes, I put it on, and arm chewed it uncomprehendingly, but I think
he was grateful.

"Hi-yi-yi-yi!" sang Vixen as we shot round the curves; "Toot-toot-toot!"
went the driver's bugle at the dangerous places, and "yow! yow!" bayed
Garm. Kadir Buksh sat on the front seat and smiled. Even he was glad to
get away from the heat of the Plains that stewed in the haze behind us.
Now and then we would meet a man we knew going down to his work again,
and he would say: "What's it like below?" and I would shout: "Hotter
than cinders. What's it like up above?" and he would shout back: "Just
perfect!" and away we would go.

Suddenly Kadir Buksh said, over his shoulder: "Here is Solon"; and Garm
snored where he lay with his head on my knee. Solon is an unpleasant
little cantonment, but it has the advantage of being cool and healthy.
It is all bare and windy, and one generally stops at a rest-house nearby
for something to eat. I got out and took both dogs with me, while Kadir
Buksh made tea. A soldier told, us we should find Stanley "out there,"
nodding his head towards a bare, bleak hill.

Wh