Trans-Himalaya; discoveries and adventures in Tibet . meadows. He re-members the free life on the open plains, he misses thefights with the wolves of the wilderness, and he dreams ofthe land of everlasting snowstorms. One day we saw himdrink of a spring which poured its water across the path,and then lie down in the cool shade of the forest. He haddone so many times before, but we should never see himrepeat it. He turned and galloped up towards lonelyTibet. He parted with sorrow in his heart from hisold master, I knew; but he thought he would ask themissionaries in Poo to send me a greeting. O
Trans-Himalaya; discoveries and adventures in Tibet . meadows. He re-members the free life on the open plains, he misses thefights with the wolves of the wilderness, and he dreams ofthe land of everlasting snowstorms. One day we saw himdrink of a spring which poured its water across the path,and then lie down in the cool shade of the forest. He haddone so many times before, but we should never see himrepeat it. He turned and galloped up towards lonelyTibet. He parted with sorrow in his heart from hisold master, I knew; but he thought he would ask themissionaries in Poo to send me a greeting. One morninghe was found lying outside the gate to the court of theMission-house, and, true to his old habit, he would letno one go in or out. He was hospitably received, andstarted a new life with a chain round his neck. I stillreceive from time to time, through Mr. Marx, greetingsfrom old Takkar, who so faithfully defended my tentwhen I travelled in disguise through his own country(Illust. 386). In the Club des Asiatiques in Paris I once dined with. Lxxiv SIMLA 419 Madame Massieu, who has accomplished so many wonder-ful journeys in Asia. Roland Bonaparte and Henry ofOrleans were present, as I vividly remembered whenon September 7 I met the far-travelled Parisian lady inthe station-house of Taranda. We had much to talkabout when we contributed to the cost of a commondinner. Untouched by years, youthful and enthusiastic,Madame Massieu afterwards undertook a bold journey toKhatmandu. With growing uneasiness I approached the hour when,after nearly a years complete silence, I was again to receiveletters from home, and I wondered whether I should breakthem open and read them without any cause for post met me at Gaura on September 9. I read allthe evening, all night, and all the following day, and I wasable to take the last days journey to Simla in comfort,for I was spared any untoward news and knew thatall was well at home. Now the wind whispered moregently than ever in th
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