; but she minded the
roughing it less, on the whole, than she had minded the boredom of
inaction in the bungalow; and, being cast on Hilda and myself for
resources, she suddenly evolved an unexpected taste for producing,
developing, and printing photographs. We took dozens, as we went along,
of little villages on our route, wood-built villages with quaint houses
and turrets; and as Hilda had brought her collection of prints with
her, for comparison of the Indian and Nepaulese monuments, we spent the
evenings after our short day's march each day in arranging and collating
them. We had planned to be away six weeks, at least. In that time the
monsoon would have burst and passed. Our guide thought we might see all
that was worth seeing of the Buddhist monasteries, and Sir Ivor thought
we should have fairly escaped the dreaded wet season.

"What do you make of our guide?" I asked of Hilda on our fourth day out.
I began somehow to distrust him.

"Oh, he seems all right," Hilda answered, carelessly--and her voice
reassured me. "He's a rogue, of course; all guides and interpreters, and
dragomans and the like, in out-of-the-way places, always ARE rogues. If
they were honest men, they would share the ordinary prejudices of their
countrymen, and would have nothing to do with the hated stranger. But
in this case our friend, Ram Das, has no end to gain by getting us
into mischief. If he had, he wouldn't scruple for a second to cut our
throats; but then, there are too many of us. He will probably try to
cheat us by making preposterous charges when he gets us back to Toloo;
but that's Lady Meadowcroft's business. I don't doubt Sir Ivor will
be more than a match for him there. I'll back one shrewd Yorkshireman
against any three Tibetan half-castes, any day."

"You're right that he would cut our throats if it served his purpose," I
answered. "He's servile, and servility goes hand in hand with treachery.
The more I watch him, the more I see 'scoundrel' written in large type
on every bend of the fellow's oily shoulders."

"Oh, yes, he's a bad lot, I know. The cook, who can speak a little
English and a little Tibetan, as well as Hindustani, tells me Ram Das
has the worst reputation of any man in the mountains. But he says he's a
very good guide to the passes, for all that, and if he's well paid will
do what he's paid for."

Next day but one we approached at last, after several short marches, the
neighbourhood of what our guide assured