ins rise almost precipitously. Towering above the
observer are the peaks of the highest mountains in British territory.
The peaks and 14,000 feet of the slopes are covered with snow. Below
the snow is a series of glaciers: these are succeeded by rocks, grass,
and stunted vegetation until the tree-line is reached.

To the south lies the world displayed. Near at hand are 50 miles of
rugged mountainous country, and beyond the apparently limitless
plains. On a clear day it is said to be possible to distinguish the
minarets of Delhi, 300 miles away. In the early morning, when the
clouds still hover in the valleys, one seems to gaze upon a white
billowy sea studded with rocky islets.

From the Dhakuri pass the path descends about 2000 feet, and then
follows the valley of the Pindari river. The scenery here is
magnificent. Unlike that of the Sarju, this valley is narrow. It is
not much cultivated; amaranthus is almost the only crop grown. The
villages are few and the huts which constitute them are rudely
constructed. The cliffs are very high, and rise almost
perpendicularly, like giant walls, so that the numerous feeders of
the river take the form of cascades, in many of which the water falls
without interruption for a distance of over 1000 feet.

The Kuphini river joins the Pindar 8 miles from its source. Beyond
the junction the path to the glacier crosses to the left bank of the
Pindar, and then the ascent becomes steep. During the ascent the
character of the flora changes. Trees become fewer and flowers more
numerous; yellow colt's-foot, dandelions, gentians, Michaelmas
daisies, columbines, centaurias, anemones, and edelweiss grow in
profusion. Choughs, monal pheasants, and snow-pigeons are the
characteristic birds of this region.

Thus the birds of the Himalayas inhabit a country in every respect
unlike the plains of India. They dwell in a different environment,
are subjected to a different climate, and feed upon different food.
It is therefore not surprising that the two avifaunas should exhibit
great divergence. Nevertheless few people who have not actually been
in both localities are able to realise the startlingly abrupt
transformation of the bird-fauna seen by one who passes from the
plains to the hills.

The 5-mile journey from Rajpur to Mussoorie transports the traveller
from one bird-realm to another.

The caw of the house-crow is replaced by the deeper note of the corby.
Instead of the crescendo shriek of