An hour after leaving Bombay the train had passed the viaducts and the Island of Salcette, and had traveled into the open country. At Callyan they reached the junction of the branch line which descends towards southeastern India by Kandallah and Pounah; and, passing Pauwell, they entered the defiles of the mountains, with their basalt bases, and their summits crowned with thick and verdant forests. Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty exchanged a few words from time to time, and now Sir Francis, reviving the conversation, observed, "Some years ago, Mr. Fogg, you would have met with a delay at this point which would probably have lost you your wager." "How so, Sir Francis?" "Because the railway stopped at the base of these mountains, and the passengers were obliged to cross in palanquins or on ponies to Kandallah, on the other side." "Such a delay would not have spoiled my plans in the least," said Mr. Fogg. "I have constantly foreseen the likelihood of certain obstacles." "But, Mr. Fogg," pursued Sir Francis, "you run the risk of having some difficulty about this worthy fellow's adventure at the pagoda." Passepartout, his feet comfortably wrapped in his traveling blanket, was sound asleep and did not dream that anybody was talking about him. "The Government is very severe about that kind of offence. It takes particular care that the religious customs of the Indians should be respected, and if your servant were caught--" "Very well, Sir Francis," replied Mr. Fogg; "if he had been caught he would have been condemned and punished, and then would have quietly returned to Europe. I don't see how this affair could have delayed his master." The conversation fell again. During the night the train left the mountains behind, and passed Nassik, and the next day proceeded over the flat, well-cultivated country of the Khandeish, with its straggling villages, above which rose the minarets of the pagodas. This fertile territory is watered by numerous small rivers and limpid streams, mostly tributaries of the Godavery. Passepartout, on waking and looking out, could not realize that he was actually crossing India in a railway train. The locomotive, guided by an English engineer and fed with English coal, threw out its smoke upon cotton, coffee, nutmeg, clove and pepper plantations, while the steam curled in spirals around groups of palm-trees, in the midst of which were seen picturesque bungalows, viharis (like abandoned monasteries) and marvelous temples enriched by the exhaustless ornamentation of Indian architecture.