ONE day in Central Burma the trail in the jungle was exceptionally difficult. It was long past noon when I realised that the return journey would be equally long and tiring. Camp lay on the other side of a long range of hills, and there was a short cut from the main trail that would save several miles, but this trail was faint. I reached the supposed cut-off about dusk and followed it upward. Darkness came on swiftly, and my pony began to stumble. Somewhere we had missed the trail, for at intervals I could still glimpse the crest of the hills, and I knew my general direction.