India 2001 books

Yessir."
The ascent was terribly laborious. Our animals were sweating, though
they were carrying nothing but the knapsacks.
"Ye see dat flat stone?" said the guide. "Dat's were de gooman feller
'ide 'is gold. Dey was tree Italians chaps 'ere 'n dey turn ober dat
stone ter roll it downill. 'N underneat was all dat feller's gold. Dat
madum larf, I tell yer."
We climbed higher and yet higher; we thought we would never reach the
crest. The sweat poured from us, and we were drenched.
On the top there were but few stones of the old castle, and we rode over
the ruins. We passed into a queer pallid country, pale grey houses, pale
yellow or pale green fields, grey sky and stones, a violently rolling
plain where our guide lost his way, and we became increasingly aware of
the discomfort of our saddles, and prayed for the journey to end.
We refound the route, and asked a peasant, "How far to Jabliak?"
"Bogami, quarter of an hour."
We cheered.
At the end of twenty minutes we asked once more.


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