But the day after our return Gay-Neck flew away again, in the morning, and failed to put in an appearance later. We waited for him most anxiously during four successive days, and then, unable to bear the suspense any longer, Ghond and I set out in search of him, determined to find him, dead or alive. This time we hired two ponies to take us as far as Sikkim. We had made sure of our path by asking people about Gay-Neck in each village that we had to pass through. Most of them had seen the bird and some of them gave an accurate description of him: one hunter had seen him in a Lamasery nesting next to a swift under the eaves of the house; another, a Buddhist monk, said that he had seen him near their monastery in Sikkim on a river bank where wild ducks had their nest, and, in the latest village that we passed through on the second afternoon we were told that he was seen in the company of a flock of swifts. Led by such good accounts we reached the highest table-land of Sikkim and were forced to bivouac there the third night. Our ponies were sleepy, and so were we, but after what seemed like an hour's sleep, I was roused by a tenseness that had fallen upon everything. I found the two beasts of burden standing stiff; in the light of the fire and that of the risen half moon I saw that their ears were raised tensely in the act of listening carefully. Even their tails did not move. I too listened intently. There was no doubt that the silence of the night was more than mere stillness; stillness is empty, but the silence that beset us was full of meaning, as if a God, shod with moonlight, was walking so close that if I were to put out my hand I could touch his garment. Just then the horses moved their ears as if to catch the echo of a sound that had moved imperceptibly through the silence. The great deity had gone already; now a queer sensation of easing the tense atmosphere set in. One could feel even the faintest shiver of the grass, but that too was momentary; the ponies now listened for a new sound from the north. They were straining every nerve in the effort. At last even I could hear it. Something like a child yawning in his sleep became audible. Stillness again followed. Then a sighing sound long drawn out, ran through the air; which sank lower and lower like a thick green leaf slowly sinking through calm water. Then rose a murmur on the horizon as if someone were praying against the sky line. About a minute later the horses relaxed their ears and switched their tails and I, too, felt myself at ease. Lo! thousands of geese were flying through the upper air. They were at least four thousand feet above us, but all the same the ponies heard their coming long before I did. The flight of the geese told us that dawn was at hand, and I sat up and watched. The stars set one by one. The ponies began to graze. I gave them more rope; now that the night had passed they did not need to be tied so close to the fire.