that he was nearing the border-line between India and Bhutan; and this was
apparently a pass from one country into the other, unknown and unmarked in
the existing maps, one of which he carried in his haversack. He took it out
and examined it. There was no doubt of it; he had made a fresh discovery.

He turned round on Badshah's neck and looked down on all India spread out
beneath him. East and west along the foot of the mountains the sea of
foliage of the Terai swept away out of sight. Here and there lighter
patches of colour showed where tea-gardens dotted the darker forest. Thirty
odd miles to the south of the foothills the jungle ended abruptly, and
beyond its ragged fringe lay the flat and fertile fields of Eastern Bengal.
A dark spot seen indistinctly through the hot-weather haze marked where the
little city of Cooch Behar lay. Sixty miles and more away to the south-east
the Garo Hills rose beyond the snaky line of the Brahmaputra River
wandering through the plains of Assam.

A sharp turn in the narrow defile shut out the view of everything except
the sheer walls of rock that seemed almost to meet high overhead and hide
the sky. Even at noon the pass was dark and gloomy. But it came abruptly to
an end, and as through a gateway the leading elephants emerged suddenly on
a narrow jungle-like valley. The first line of mountains guarding Bhutan
had been traversed. Beyond the valley lay another range, its southern face
covered with trees.

Badshah halted, and the elephants behind him scattered as they came out of
the defile. The aged animals among them, as soon as they had drunk from a
little river running midway between the mountain chains and fed by streams
from both, lay down to rest, too exhausted to eat. But the others spread
out in the trees to graze.