"Of course he thought, like himself, I too was hungry and was looking for food. So he led me to the German food depôt, and through an underground passage he crawled into a vast provision chamber--a very gold mine of food--and fetched some meat for me. I drew the conclusion that there were a series of underground chambers in which the Germans kept not only food, but also oil and explosives, and I acted accordingly. Thank the Gods it turned out to be correct. Let us change the subject. "To tell you the truth I hate to talk about the war. Look, the sunset is lighting the peaks of the Himalayas. The Everest burns like a crucible of gold. Let us pray. "'Lead me from the unreal to the Real, From darkness into Light, From sound into Silence.'" After meditation was over, Ghond silently walked out of our house to begin a journey from Calcutta to the Lamasery near Singalele. But before I recount his adventure there I must tell the reader how Ghond happened to be transferred from the battlefields of France to our home. The last part of February 1915 it became quite clear to the Bengal Regiment that Gay-Neck would fly no more. Ghond, who had brought him, was no soldier. With the exception of a tiger or a leopard he had never killed anything in his life, and now that he too was sick, they were both invalided back to India together. They reached Calcutta in March. I could not believe my eyes when I saw them. Ghond looked as frightened as Gay-Neck and both of them appeared very sick. Ghond, after he had delivered my pigeon to me, explained a few matters, before he departed to the Himalayas. "I need to be healed of fear and hate. I saw too much killing of man by man. I was invalided home for I am sick with a fell disease--sickness of fear, and I must go alone to nature to be cured of my ill." So he went up to Singalele to the Lamasery, there to be healed by prayer and meditation. In the meantime I tried my utmost to cure Gay-Neck. His wife and full-grown children failed to help him. His children saw in him but a stranger, for he showed no care for them, but his wife interested him intensely, though even she could not make him fly. He refused steadily to do anything but hop a little, and nothing would induce him to go up in the air. I had his wings and legs examined by good pigeon doctors, who said that there was nothing wrong with him. His bones and both of his wings were sound, yet he would not fly. He refused even to open his right wing; and whenever he was not running or hopping he developed the habit of standing on one foot.