of the Gods, and the doomed gods marching forth to the last
fight. And the thunder growled sullenly away into the recesses of
the hill and the terrible rainbows faded until the stars came
quietly out and it was a still night.

But I had seen that what is our dread is the joy of the spirits
of the Mighty Mother, and though the vision faded and I doubted
what I had seen, it prepared the way for what I was yet to see. A
few days later we started on what was to be the most exquisite
memory of my life. A train of ponies carried our tents and
camping necessaries and there was a pony for each of us. And so,
in the cool grey of a divine morning, with little rosy clouds
flecking the eastern sky, we set out from Islamabad 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