to scenes at sea
or in the desert, where there are but two elements to hold the thoughts.

Now we draw up near a village, and women and children watch our train.
I wish they'd keep some one portion of their limbs and draperies still
an instant to let me see and draw, but they won't. Two women lean
against the wire fence near us, one a tall, small-headed and long-limbed
matron in dullish green sari with gold or yellow round its edges in thin
and broad lines, and a bodice of orange and crimson. Her neighbour leans
and talks, incessantly moving; she is wrapped in vivid crimson, edged
with a broad band of poppy blue. Behind them the village is hazy in half
tone against the light; across the space between, there flits a fairy in
lemon-yellow or orange drapery slightly blown out so that the sun makes
it a transparent blaze of yellow--a dainty Tanagra Figurine come to life
and colour again!

... ARSIKERE.--We have our carriage gently shunted at a siding here, and
stop under a banyan tree, and have our meal in the moonlight--such
moonlight and such a meal! I've heard so much of Indian cooking, of the
everlasting chicken and curries, but out of our two tiny kitchens we get
a dinner worthy of a moderately good French cafe, fish and beef, and
game, and variety of vegetables.--Indian beef is not half bad in my
humble opinion, and the Vino Tinto is straight from Lisbon, by Goa, the
Portuguese port on this west coast, what better could a man desire?

A hitch in our arrangements occurred here. Our plans were to tie on to a
north-going train at two in the morning, and cut off again at a tank
some miles up the line where the duck-shooting is sublime. But my host
got a wire from the head engineer of the whole line about matters
connected with the royal visit to Mysore, and he must now go down south,
to stamp on the bridges and see that the line is all firm and safe, so
the wanderer from home again realises that there is a Prince in the
land! And we feel loyally resigned, especially as there happens to be
good snipe ground where we are, and we can't return before midday
to-morrow, and so can have a long half-day's shooting before we hitch
on to the south mail train.

[Illustration]

As we sit at table on the side of the track, the village dogs steal into
the moonlight and come gradually nearer us; masterless dogs of any
colour betwixt the collie and fox-terrier. No one feeds them or owns
them, so there's plenty of appetite and uncla