It was with great excitement that two weeks later the ten girls who had been successful in the riding lessons, which of course included Alice, set off on their trek. It was a beautiful Saturday morning as they rode one behind the other on their ponies. The sports nun, Sister Agnes, led the way with novice nun, Sister Teresa bringing up the rear. Both nuns had pulled their habit’s up through their legs and tucked the end into the front of their leather belts, which made them look as if they were wearing jodhpurs.
The itinerary for the ride was to take the Toong Soong road out from the Mall and continue along the mountain path to the Aloobari Buddhist Monastery. There they would stop and have a picnic lunch on a hill looking out over the valley below. After lunch they would take Queens Road back to the centre of Darjeeling and to the school. There was much laughter among the girls, especially with Alice and her two best friends; they were just sorry that Margaret had not come. Even the two nuns seemed to be enjoying escaping from the confines of the school.
As they climbed higher and higher along the mountain path, Alice could see the outline of the Himalayas in the distance. There were little puffs of white clouds looking like balls of cotton wool high in the sky, while the valleys had a film of grey mist waiting for the sun to rise higher in the sky and burn it off.
As the morning went on and the ponies picked their way along the mountain path, the girls got more and more confident, even trying to ride side-by-side so that they could talk more easily. Just before they reached the Monastery, a sudden scream came from one of the girls towards the head of the line. Her pony had reared up and thrown the girl off the saddle onto the path which she hit with a load thump and before rolling off over the edge, luckily to be brought to a halt by a large boulder. The line of ponies came to a sudden stop as the two nuns dismounted and rushed to the aid of the girl. Sister Teresa signalled for them to all dismount and stay where they were beside their ponies. After a few minutes, Sister Agnes came back along the line seeking out Alice and taking her to one side.
‘Alice, Dorothy has hurt herself very badly; it looks as if she has broken a leg. I don’t want to move her until we can get help and Sister Teresa and I must stay with all the other girls for their safety. We are only about half a mile from the Buddhist Monastery where the monks may be able to help us. As you are the most experienced rider I would like you to ride ahead and tell them what has happened. Would you do that?’
‘Yes of course I will go.’ Alice replied.
‘Please do not ride fast, take it very carefully, we don’t want another accident.’
With that, Alice remounted and urged her pony forward. As she got to where the accident had happened she looked down to see Dorothy with her head on Sister Teresa’s lap looking as white as a ghost. As she had never been this way before Alice had to just follow the trail in the direction sister Agnes had indicated. After a few minutes Alice came to the gatehouse of the Monastery; dismounting she looked around for a means of attracting attention. Looking to the left and right of the gate she finally saw the bell which was hanging from a chain on the wall partially hidden by a garland of fresh cut flowers. Soon after she had rung the bell a young bald monk in his saffron robes came to the gate. In a soft spoken voice he asked in faltering English.
‘Can we help you?’
Alice rapidly told him what had happened and asked if the nuns could have some assistance.
‘Please wait and I will tell the others.’
As he went he passed a prayer wheel in the garden and gave it a spin. Five minutes passed before a group of monks came out, one of them carrying what looked like a folded stretcher.
‘Please lead the way.’ The oldest looking