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； but it is the same … Krishna or Christ。 When we hear the music we follow。 And we may lose or gain heaven。〃
It might have been her compelling personality … it might have been the marvels of beauty about me； but I knew well I had entered at some mystic gate。 A pass word had been spoken for me … I was vouched for and might go in。 Only a little way as yet。 Enchanted forests lay beyond； and perilous seas； but there were hints； breaths like the wafting of the garments of unspeakable Presences。 My talk with Vanna grew less personal； and more introspective。 I felt the touch of her finger…tips leading me along the ways of Quiet … my feet brushed a shining dew。 Once； in the twilight under the chenar trees； I saw a white gleaming and thought it a swiftly passing Being； but when in haste I gained the tree I found there only a Ninefold flower； white as a spirit in the evening calm。 I would not gather it but told Vanna what I had seen。
〃You nearly saw；' she said。 〃She passed so quickly。 It was the Snowy One； Uma； Parvati； the Daughter of the Himalaya。 That mountain is the mountain of her lord … Shiva。 It is natural she should be here。 I saw her last night lean over the height … her face pillowed on her folded arms； with a low star in the mists of her hair。 Her eyes were like lakes of blue darkness。 Vast and wonderful。 She is the Mystic Mother of India。 You will see soon。 You could not have seen the flower until now。〃
〃Do you know；〃 she added； 〃that in the mountains there are poppies of clear blue … blue as turquoise。 We will go up into the heights and find them。〃
And next moment she was planning the camping details； the men； the ponies； with a practical zest that seemed to relegate the occult to the absurd。 Yet the very next day came a wonderful moment。
The sun was just setting and； as it were； suddenly the purple glooms banked up heavy with thunder。 The sky was black with fury； the earth passive with dread。 I never saw such lightning … it was continuous and tore in zigzag flashes down the mountains like rents in the substance of the world's fabric。 And the thunder roared up in the mountain gorges with shattering echoes。 Then fell the rain； and the whole lake seemed to rise to meet it； and the noise was like the rattle of musketry。 We were standing by the cabin window and she suddenly caught my hand； and I saw in a light of their own two dancing figures on the tormented water before us。 Wild in the tumult； embodied delight； with arms tossed violently above their heads； and feet flung up behind them； skimming the waves like seagulls； they passed。 Their sex I could not tell … I think they had none； but were bubble emanations of the rejoicing rush of the rain and the wild retreating laughter of the thunder。 I saw the fierce aerial faces and their inhuman glee as they fled by； and she dropped my hand and they were gone。 Slowly the storm lessened； and in the west the clouds tore raggedly asunder and a flood of livid yellow light poured down upon the lake … an awful light that struck it into an abyss of fire。 Then； as if at a word of command； two glorious rainbows sprang across the water with the mountains for their piers； each with its proper colours chorded。 They made a Bridge of Dread that stood out radiant against the background of storm … the Twilight of the Gods； and the doomed gods marching forth to the last fight。 And the thunder growled sullenly away into the recesses of the hill and the terrible rainbows faded until the stars came quietly out and it was a still night。
But I had seen that what is our dread is the joy of the spirits of the Mighty Mother； and though the vision faded and I doubted what I had seen； it prepared the way for what I was yet to see。 A few days later we started on what was to be the most exquisite memory of my life。 A train of ponies carried our tents and camping necessaries and there was a pony for each of us。 And so； in the cool grey of a divine morning； with little rosy clouds flecking the eastern sky； we set out from Islamabad for Vernag。 And this was the order of our going。 She and I led the way； attended by a sais （groom） and a coolie carrying the luncheon basket。 Half way we would stop in some green dell； or by some rushing stream； and there rest and eat our little meal while the rest of the cavalcade passed on to the appointed camping place； and in the late afternoon we would follow； riding slowly； and find the tents pitched and the kitchen department in full swing。 If the place pleased us we lingered for some days； … if not； the camp was struck next morning； and again we wandered in search of beauty。
The people were no inconsiderable part of my joy。 I cannot see what they have to gain from such civilization as ours … a kindly people and happy。 Courtesy and friendliness met us everywhere； and if their labor was hard； their harvest of beauty and laughter seemed to be its reward。 The little villages with their groves of walnut and fruit trees spoke of no unfulfilled want； the mulberries which fatten the sleek bears in their season fattened the children too。 I compared their lot with that of the toilers in our cities and knew which I would choose。 We rode by shimmering fields of barley； with red poppies floating in the clear transparent green as in deep sea water； through fields of millet like the sky fallen on the earth； so innocently blue were its blossoms； and the trees above us were trellised with the wild roses； golden and crimson； and the ways tapestried with the scented stars of the large white jasmine。
It was strange that later much of what she said； escaped me。 Some I noted down at the time； but there were hints； shadows of lovelier things beyond that eluded all but the fringes of memory when I tried to piece them together and make a coherence of a living wonder。 For that reason； the best things cannot be told in this history。 It is only the cruder； grosser matters that words will hold。 The half…touchings …vanishing looks； breaths … O God； I know them； but cannot tell。
In the smaller villages； the head man came often to greet us and make us welcome； bearing on a flat dish a little offering of cakes and fruit； the produce of the place。 One evening a man so approached； stately in white robes and turban； attended by a little lad who carried the patriarchal gift beside him。 Our tents were pitched under a glorious walnut tree with a run… ning stream at our feet。
Vanna of course； was the interpreter； and I called her from her tent as the man stood salaaming before me。 It was strange that when she came； dressed in white； he stopped in his salutation； and gazed at her in what； I thought； was silent wonder。
She spoke earnestly to him； standing before him with clasped hands； almost； I could think； in the attitude of a suppliant。 The man listened gravely； with only an interjection； now and again； and once he turned and looked curiously at me。 Then he spoke； evidently making some announcement which she received with bowed head … and when he turned to go with a grave salute； she performed a very singular ceremony； moving slowly round him three times with clasped hands； keeping him always on the right。 He repaid it with the usual salaam and greeting of peace； which he bestowed also on me； and then departed in deep meditation； his eyes fixed on the ground。 I ventured to ask what it all meant； and she looked thoughtfully at me before replying。
〃It was a strange thing。 I fear you will not altogether understand； but I will tell you what I can。 That man though living here among Mahomedans； is a Brahman from Benares； and； what is very rare in India； a Buddhist。 And when he saw me he believed he remembered me in a former birth。 The ceremony you saw me perform is one of honour in India。 It was his due。〃
〃Did you remember him？〃 I knew my voice was incredulous。
〃Very well。 He has changed little but is further on the upward path。 I saw him with dread for he holds the memory of a great wrong I did。 Yet he told me a thing that has filled my heart with joy。〃
〃Vanna…what is it？〃
She had a clear uplifted look which startled me。 There was suddenly a chill air blowing between us。
〃I must not tell you yet but you will know soon。 He was a good man。 I am glad we have met。〃
She buried herself in writing in a small book I had noticed and longed to look into； and no more was said。
We struck camp next day and trekked on towards Vernag … a rough march； but one of great beauty； beneath the shade of forest trees； garlanded with pale roses that climbed from bough to bough and tossed triumphant wreaths into the uppermost blue。
In the afternoon thunder was flapping its wings far off in the mountains and a little rain fell while we were lunching under a big tree。 I was considering anxiously how to shelter Vanna； when a farmer invited us to his house … a scene of Biblical hospitality that delighted us both。 He led us up some break…neck little stairs to a large bare room； open to the clean air all round the roof； and with a kind of rough enclosure on the wooden floor where the family slept at night。 There he opened our basket； and then； with anxious care； hung clothes and rough draperies about us that our meal might be unwatched by one or two friends who had followed us in with breathless interest。