are now passing, I guess, through the region of clouds.
Mát. Whence do you form that conjecture?
Dushm. The car itself instructs me that we are moving over clouds pregnant with showers; for the circumference of its wheels disperses pellucid water; the horses of Indra sparkle with lightning; and I now see the warbling Chátacas descend from their nests on the summits of mountains.
Mát. It is even so; and in another moment you will be in the country which you govern.
Dushm. [Looking down.] Through the rapid, yet imperceptible, descent of the heavenly steeds, I now perceive the allotted station of men.—Astonishing prospect! It is yet so distant from us, that the low lands appear confounded with the high mountain tops; the trees erect their branchy shoulders, but seem leafless; the rivers look like bright lines, but their waters vanish; and, at this instant, the globe of earth seems thrown upwards by some stupendous power.
Mát. [Looking with reverence on the earth.] How delightful is the abode of mankind!—O king, you saw distinctly!
Dushm. Say, Mátali, what mountain is that which, like an evening cloud, pours exhilarating streams, and forms a golden zone between the western and eastern seas?
Mát. That, O king, is the mountain of Gandharvas, named Hémacúta; the universe contains