The Ninth Vibration | Page 6

knowledge
to make his way to the inner chambers of her beauty. There is no harder
mistress unless you hold the pass-key to her mysteries, there is none of
whom so little can be told in words but who kindles so deep a passion.
Necessity sometimes takes me from that enchanted land, but when the
latest dawns are shining in my skies I shall make my feeble way back
to her and die at her worshipped feet. So I went up from Kalka.
I have never liked Simla. It is beautiful enough - eight thousand feet up
in the grip of the great hills looking toward the snows, the famous
summer home of the Indian Government. Much diplomacy is
whispered on Observatory Hill and many are the lighter diversions of
which Mr. Kipling and lesser men have written. But Simla is also a
gateway to many things - to the mighty deodar forests that clothe the

foot-hills of the mountains, to Kulu, to the eternal snows, to the old, old
bridle way that leads up to the Shipki Pass and the mysteries of Tibet -
and to the strange things told in this story. So I passed through with
scarcely a glance at the busy gayety of the little streets and the tiny
shops where the pretty ladies buy their rouge and powder. I was
attended by my servant Ali Khan, a Mohammedan from Nagpur, sent
up with me by Olesen with strong recommendation. He was a stout
walker, so too am I, and an inveterate dislike to the man-drawn carriage
whenever my own legs would serve me decided me to walk the sixteen
miles to the House in the Woods, sending on the baggage. Ali Khan
despatched it and prepared to follow me, the fine cool air of the hills
giving us a zest.
"Subhan Alla! (Praise be to God!) the air is sweet!" he said, stepping
out behind me. "What time does the Sahib look to reach the House?"
"About five or six. Now, Ali Khan, strike out of the road. You know
the way."
So we struck up into the glorious pine woods, mountains all about us.
Here and there as we climbed higher was a little bank of forgotten snow,
but spring had triumphed and everywhere was the waving grace of
maiden-hair ferns, banks of violets and strangely beautiful little wild
flowers. These woods are full of panthers, but in day time the only
precaution necessary is to take no dog, - a dainty they cannot resist. The
air was exquisite with the sun-warm scent of pines, and here and there
the trees broke away disclosing mighty ranges of hills covered with
rich blue shadows like the bloom on a plum, - the clouds chasing the
sunshine over the mountain sides and the dark green velvet of the robe
of pines. I looked across ravines that did not seem gigantic and yet the
villages on the other side were like a handful of peas, so tremendous
was the scale. I stood now and then to see the rhododendrons, forest
trees here with great trunks and massive boughs glowing with
blood-red blossom, and time went by and I took no count of it, so
glorious was the climb.
It must have been hours later when it struck me that the sun was getting
low and that by now we should be nearing The House in the Woods. I

said as much to Ali Khan. He looked perplexed and agreed. We had
reached a comparatively level place, the trail faint but apparent, and it
surprised me that we heard no sound of life from the dense wood where
our goal must be.
"I know not, Presence," he said. "May his face be blackened that
directed me. I thought surely I could not miss the way, and yet-"
We cast back and could see no trail forking from the one we were on.
There was nothing for it but to trust to luck and push on. But I began to
be uneasy and so was the man. I had stupidly forgotten to unpack my
revolver, and worse, we had no food, and the mountain air is an
appetiser, and at night the woods have their dangers, apart from being
absolutely trackless. We had not met a living being since we left the
road and there seemed no likelihood of asking for directions. I stopped
no longer for views but went steadily on, Ali Khan keeping up a
running fire of low-voiced invocations and lamentations. And now it
was dusk and the position decidely unpleasant.
It was at that moment I saw a woman before us walking lightly and
steadily under the pines. She must have struck into the trail from the
side for she never could have kept before us all