On Wednesday afternoon the ten ponies, carefully ordered a week before
from the outlying villages, were congregated on the weedy slope which
falls away from our verandah, picking up a scanty sustenance from decaying
ragwort and such like.
Secure in the possession of the necessary transport, Jane and I strolled
forth for a last look at Nanga Parbat, should he haply deign to be on view.
He did not deign, however, preferring to remain, like Achilles, when
bereft of Briseis, sulking in his cloudy tent. So we consoled ourselves
with an exceedingly fine view of the snow-crowned heights at the head of
the Ferozepore Nullah. Upon returning to our beloved log cabin we were met
by Sabz Ali--almost speechless with wrath--who broke to us the distressing
news that six of our ten weight-carriers had departed from the compound.
The entire staff, with the exception of our factotum, were away in pursuit,
and there was nothing for it but to possess our souls in what patience we
might until they returned.
As we had arranged for a four o'clock start next morning, it was most
disconcerting to have all our transport desert so late in the evening. An
urgent note to the Assistant Resident, and some pressure on the Tehsildhar,
produced promise of assistance.
Early on Thursday morning came an indignant chit from an irate General,
complaining that my servants were trying to seize his ponies, for which he
had paid an advance of two rupees, and would I be good enough to
investigate the affair.
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