lad was unlike what one would have expected Alvin
Drake--a trifle dried, precise, wholly abstracted with his
experiments--to beget, still, I reflected, heredity like the
Lord sometimes works in mysterious ways its wonders to
perform.

It was almost with awe that he listened to me instruct
Chiu-Ming as to just how I wanted supper prepared, and
his gaze dwelt fondly upon the Chinese busy among his
pots and pans.

We talked a little, desultorily, as the meal was prepared
--fragments of traveler's news and gossip, as is the
habit of journeyers who come upon each other in the silent
places. Ever the speculation grew in his face as he made
away with Chiu-Ming's artful concoctions.

Drake sighed, drawing out his pipe.

"A cook, a marvel of a cook. Where did you get him?"

Briefly I told him.

Then a silence fell upon us. Suddenly the sun dipped
down behind the flank of the stone giant guarding the
valley's western gate; the whole vale swiftly darkened--a
flood of crystal-clear shadows poured within it. It was the
prelude to that miracle of unearthly beauty seen nowhere
else on this earth--the sunset of Tibet.