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 Suddenly he saw two men coming up the river, poling their boat very slowly and looking from side to side. Rhamon knew all the men of his own little village, but these were strangers. He wondered what they were doing, why they were going so slowly and looking around so carefully. He decided to watch them.

In a moment he saw them slide up beside a big piece of floating garden. Rhamon knew that it belonged to his neighbors who were away on a picnic across the lake. One of the men pulled out the long pole that held it in place. The other tied a big rope to one end of the garden. Suddenly Rhamon realized that these men were thieves from another village, come to carry away the garden.

Stuffing the last bit of chupatti into his mouth, Rhamon jumped quickly from his seat and slipped into the shikara that lay alongside the walk. In a moment he had untied the rope that held it to the houseboat. Soon he was shooting down the river toward the city of Srinagar.