a precarious livelihood, chiefly roast straw, as far as one could see!

We had grown so accustomed to the monotony of the plains, that when we
suddenly became aware of a faint blue line of mountains paling to snow,
where they melted into the sky, the Himalayas came upon us almost with a
shock of surprise.

As we drew nearer, the rampart of mountains that guards India on the north,
took form and substance, until at Jhelum we fairly left the plain and
began to ascend the lower foothills.

Between Jhelum and Rawal Pindi the line runs through a country that can
best be described by that much abused word "weird." Originally a
succession of clayey plateaux, the erosion of water has worn and
honeycombed a tortuous maze of abrupt clefts and ravines, leaving in many
cases mere shafts and pinnacles, whose fantastic tops stand level with the
surrounding country. The sun set while we were still winding through a
labyrinth of peaks and pits, and the effect of the contrasting red gold
lights and purple shadows in this strange confused landscape was a thing
to be remembered.

We rolled and bumped into Pindi at 8 P.M., having travelled nearly 1000
miles during our two days and nights in the train.

Our friends the Smithsons were on the platform waiting to receive us and
welcome us as strangers and pilgrims in an unknown land. They have only
remained here to meet us, and they proceed to Kashmir to-morrow, sleeping
in a carriage in the quiet backwater of a siding, to save themselves the
worry of a desperately early start to-morrow morning.