On this occasion I went on to Nepal, and was told by the Nepalese
sentry on the frontier bridge that without special permission from
Khatmandoo, the Capital, I could not proceed farther. In 1869, in
company with my much-esteemed friend the late Dr. Mather, I travelled in
the same direction, and saw much of the country, as we went by one route
and returned by another. During the later years of our residence we saw
a good deal of the western districts, to which I shall refer when giving
an account of missionary operations.

Along some of the main roads, at the distance of twelve or fourteen
miles, are small rough Rest-houses, with a table, two chairs, and a
bedstead, often in very bad condition. These houses are in charge of a
watchman, who is often long in making his appearance, and then brings
wood and water, and sometimes a little milk. For everything else you are
dependent on people with you carrying supplies. Where there is much
traffic there is good accommodation.

[Sidenote: TIMELY ESCAPE.]

Our most memorable journey, perhaps, was one made in 1861 to the
Pindaree glacier. The journey was a very fatiguing one, as the roads
were so bad, and the ascents and descents so steep, that before we got
half way I was obliged to leave my pony behind, and to make my way on
foot, helped to ascend and descend in some places by strong hill-men,
who drew me up or helped me down by a belt round my middle, while my
wife and little boy were carried in _dandies_. Many of the bridges were
rough wooden structures, with no parapets. As we approached the snow we
suffered much at night from cold in our little tent. The hill people of
the higher region we found much stronger and more unsophisticated than
those we had left behind. The women seemed never to have seen an English
woman or child. They were first afraid to come near us, but my wife made
her way to little groups, and they seemed delighted with her, and still
more with her little boy. Fatiguing and trying though the journey was,
health was improved by it, and we were well rewarded for any toil and
inconvenience we endured by the magnificent scenery we saw. Down the
Pindaree valley came a roaring torrent, showing by its yellow tinge it
came from the melted snow. We were awed as we looked up at the
tremendous cliffs on either side. Pursuing our way in silence, I heard a
servant from the plains, who was walking behind me, muttering to
himself, "Such a wicked place I never saw in my