msalla, one mile above Shosha village. The
weather had been threatening for several days, and a steady downpour came
upon us during the evening. Work had been accumulating daily. I decided
to develop the large number of plates I had taken on my journey, a job
hateful beyond measure when you are on the move. Having duly unpacked all
the developing dishes and prepared the different solutions, I set to work
to make the shelter completely dark. The next important item required was
water, and of this there was plenty in that wretched shanty! I had just
developed half-a-dozen negatives, and was delighted at the excellent
results, when, in consequence of the storm having grown more violent, the
rain began dripping on my head through the leaky roof of the Daramsalla.
To move all the trays of developers, baths, and fixing solution would
have been a nuisance; besides, I was too interested in my work to be put
out by such small trifles, so I patiently stood this new discomfort. I
shifted my position continually, merely with the result that the rain
dripped alternately on my back, my legs, or my shoulders, according to my
position. It fell in torrents, and the roof over me was so leaky that I
might as well have been out in the open. I was sitting in a pool of water
and could not lay my hands upon anything that was not drenched.
Fortunately my boxes and cases were water-tight, or all the instruments
and plates would have been damaged.

Annoying as it was, I had to give up work. The best thing to do was to go
to sleep. Easier said than done. My bedding and blanket were soaked. The
attempts to lie under a waterproof sheet failed, for I felt suffocated,
so I passed the cover to my servant, who, rolling himself in it, was soon
in the arms of Morpheus. Tired and disgusted, I crouched myself up and
eventually fell asleep. I woke up in the morning with a biting pain in my
toes. I had been lying face downwards, and had involuntarily stretched my
legs during the night. I discovered to my horror that one foot rested in
the developing bath and the other in the fixing solution, which I had
forgotten to empty out of the large celluloid trays.

The morning was spent in drying up things in the sun, including our
clothes, while we, clad in a "_doti_" (large loin-cloth as used by the
natives of India), squatted down in the warmth in order to restore our
saturated skins to their natural condition.

I was in the meantime interviewed by many Shokas, a