The Kalka Road, before the railway was built, was
about forty-seven miles long, and the horses were changed every
eight miles. Most of them jibbed, and kicked, and plunged, but
they had to go, and they went rather better than usual for Garm's
deep bay in their rear.
There was a river to be forded, and four bullocks pulled the
carriage, and Vixen stuck her head out of the sliding-door and
nearly fell into the water while she gave directions. Garin was
silent and curious, and rather needed reassuring about Stanley
and Kasauli. So we rolled, barking and yelping, into Kalka for
lunch, and Garm ate enough for two.
After Kalka the road wound among the hills, and we took a
curricle with half-broken ponies, which were changed every six
miles. No one dreamed of a railroad to Simla in those days, for
it was seven thousand feet up in the air. The road was more than
fifty miles long, and the regulation pace was just as fast as the
ponies could go. Here, again, Vixen led Garm from one carriage to
the other; jumped into the back seat, and shouted.
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