Those were amongst the finest days of my life. I rose each morning to the sight of the majestic range of Kanchenjunga bathed in pre-dawn sunlight. We enjoyed clear weather from six to about nine in the morning most of the year. Visibility fell to zero after that. Below my picket and down the slope, there was a lake that froze in winter. It was my first experience of a frozen lake. The frozen surface was sufficiently hard to permit animals to walk across it. It had however no formal name, an unnamed lake on the map lying between the Indian picket and the Chinese border. Every day the Chinese
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