A few miles farther we left the valley of the Dras and climbed the slope of a low, small ridge, and reached the bungalow and caravanserai on a hill at a place called Mashai. Here we were definitely in the higher alpine region, and the boundary of vegetation and the surrounding district resembled, for instance, the peaks of Monte Generoso or Mont Pilatus in Switzerland. To the south of the bungalow we could see the snowy peaks of some range visible in the far distance, with snowfields and glacier creeping down the head of a steep gully, which passed behind the bungalow. In this gully there are two large two-storied houses in the style of a Swiss chalet and one lower building. Around everything bare and barren. These houses are the winter quarters of the telegraph clerk and parties in charge of the road. To the north there rose a steep cliff, where the Dras flows, and beyond there rises abruptly a steep mountain with jagged outline against the sky. In the spring, when the alpine pastures and flowers are out, this should be a very pleasant spot. The glacier is not far from the bungalow and is quite accessible. Evening fell. A cold wind sprang up, howling in the chimney, and I could hear the roar of the Dras. I shivered, drew myself up close to the blazing fire and thought of to-morrow's ride.