Argosy, Vol. 122, No. 1 — page 24: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

14 THE ‘Poor fellow,” she smiled, “‘ he has seen his day, hasn’t he? I wonder if he growled at enemies, in his time.” Monsey shrugged his shoulders. “Un fait accompli, mademoiselle. Still, I have seen his brethren, and they still point at enemies. Ah, yes. Sometimes they bite.” ‘“'Where?”’ wondered Edith. been in the army?” Again his eyes went to her quickly, She saw a muscle in his brown cheek. ‘““ Some service, I have seen,” he admitted politely, adding: “In some native forts north of Kashmir there are the old can- non.’ He leaned beside her on the massive weapon and fell to talking about India. He described the hills of the north, the scent of the pines. ‘ You‘have heard it called the garden of the earth, Miss Rand. Kashmir—but Eng- lish words are cold. The natives call it the paradise of the elder gods. Soon, in spring, it will be in bloom. ‘The jasmine, and honeysuckle—acacias and roses—such roses. Vines, clinging to sun slopes—” Smiling, he spoke of Srinagar, the Sun City. Of perfumed winds of evening, and bamboo boats drifting along waterways in the heart of the city. He took her in imagination to the hill chalets nestling un- der crags that dwarfed description. He led ‘¢ Vou have her along valleys shadowed by the great deodars, with fern beds underfoot. “They are places of sheer beauty,” he said quietly, ‘‘ and worthy of the ornament of your loveliness.” There was emotion in his voice, and hom- age in his eyes, Edith had been thrilled by his description of the hills. Now she looked away uncertainly. Monsey dwelt on her warmly, burning with a rising fire. “T shall love your hills,” she said thoughtfully. ‘“‘T prophesy it, Miss Rand.” , His gloved hand closed over hers firmly. ‘“ You must come to Kashmir, if you are ever in India. I think you will come!” She wondered how much Monsey had heard of the conversation at dinner the night before. Strange, that he had not spoken of it directly. ARGOSY. “The vines of Kashmir cover forgotten temples in the forests. The Himalayas are the holy places of the natives. In their prayers they raise their eyes to the summits of what they call Himachal, believing that the hills are the abiding places of the gods. ‘Those who die in Himachal are blessed,’ they say. Ah, yes. There you will, per- haps, see a hidden corner of things.” Edith’s imagination had been fired by his description. Almost, she had forgotten the man himself. “ What is beyond Kashmir—+ above it?” she asked curiously. Monsey checked himself and looked down. ‘‘ The roof of the world. So the natives call it.” Edith laughed suddenly, contentedly. = i think you are so much nicer than Aunt Kate’s guide-books. She would never think - to call mountains ‘ the roof of the world.’ ” She drew a deep breath, thrusting some wandering hair—displaced by the cold wind—into place under her cap. “ What 1 is it like there?” ‘““Seme people, Miss Rand, are born blind, and they never learn to see.’’ Monsey eyed her curiously. ‘ Once a Tatar em- peror held his kingdom there. “It is now dust and ruins. The empire of the Turk— that, too, is gone. Then a Czar and his Cossacks stretched out greedy hands for it. Pouf! The wind of Asia—they call it the tenegri buran, in the hills, the ghost wind— blew. And the Czar and his soldiers ‘are dead. Now the English Raj reaches out into the hill passes.” He paused to strike a match upon the cannon and light a cigarette. ‘But the great hills are now the strong- hold of the tribes. Since the war, the white men have vanished from the roof of the world. Behold! Fate turns a leaf in the book you and I cannot read.” The girl was silent, wrapped in her thoughts, ‘What do we know of the tribes, Miss Rand? They have their wars and their re- ligions. Both are the breath of life to them. But we Europeans are no longer onlook- ers.”’ “You know more than you are telling me. P] In another person his would have been cComiclbooks.com