e the dispensary seeing patients. He
knew us, and in place of water brought us milk, and then got us a
breakfast. Welcome as this was, his kind greeting cheered us even more.

The next river we had to cross was the Chenab. On arriving at the
bridge, I found a detachment of English soldiers on the march, and one
of these gave the two annas required for our toll. About two years
later, when visiting Lahore, a missionary friend there said to me:
"I met a friend of yours the other day."

"Indeed! Who was that?"

"I was travelling up to Peshawur by rail, when some English soldiers
got into the carriage, and one of them, looking at me, asked me if
I was a Padre. On my answering his question in the affirmative,
he then said he was glad of that, because he took an interest in
missions. I asked him why he did so. 'You see,' he said, 'some time
ago we were on the march to Lahore, and at the Chenab bridge there
was a missionary chap who hadn't the money for crossing the bridge,
and so I paid it for him. I became a kind of partner in the concern;
that is why I take an interest in missions.' This was your friend, was
it not?" I, of course, recalled the incident at the Chenab bridge, and
hope my friend has continued his practical interest in mission work.

The last day of the year 1903 found us at Narowal, a village famed
in the missionary annals of the Panjab. Leaving that, we soon reached
the Ravi River, which lower down flows by the walls of the capital of
the Panjab. Here it was running clear and cold below a sandy cliff
on its western bank. It had evidently been encroaching on the lands
of the farmers, and engulfing many a fertile acre, and the houses of
the village, too, the ruins of the latter showing some way along the
bank. The east bank was a low, wide expanse of sand, which had long
been left dry by the receding stream. Seeing no other way of crossing,
we were preparing to doff our clothes and ford, when a good soul of
a zamindar came up.

"Peace be with you."

"And on you be peace."

"Whither are you going, O Sadhu-log, and what is your order and sect?"

"We are Christian Sadhus travelling from Afghanistan to India, and
are seeking means to cross this river."

"Then you are my teacher," said the zamindar, brightening into a smile,
"and I will get a boat and take you across."

Although the good fellow had been brought to the brink of ruin by the
destruction of his lands and house by the rapacious river, he went