I could not tell when Feluda had returned at night. When I woke, shortly before half past four in the morning, he was already dressed and ready to go. Lalmohan Babu and I took ten minutes, and then we set off. Dawn had only just started to break. The streetlights were still on, looking more apologetic than ever. We passed the temple and reached the open area behind it. Feluda suddenly turned to me and said, ‘You used to be able to whistle pretty loudly. Can you still do it?’ Somewhat taken aback, I said, ‘Yes, of course. Why?’ ‘You must whistle when I tell you to.’ I looked at him curiously, but knew better than to press for an explanation. We kept walking, using our walking sticks. Without those, it would have been extremely difficult to walk on the slippery, rocky surface, most of which was still covered with snow. A little while ago, we had had to cross the river, stepping rather gingerly across a makeshift bridge of wooden planks. Mandakini was little more than a stream here. Everywhere I looked, I could see high mountain peaks, but I had no idea what they were called. The tallest of these had started to acquire a pinkish glow in the early light of dawn. My hands and face felt absolutely frozen. Lalmohan Babu spoke, through chattering teeth, ‘T-t-t- opshe will wh-whistle, but wh-what am I going t-to do?’ ‘You? You need do nothing but hold that stick of yours over your head, and whirl it in the air. This will prove both your bravery and your insanity.’ ‘V-very w-well.’ Half and hour later, a flat, grey area came into view. It was surrounded by endless rocks and stones. That had to be the Sarovar. Even so, I looked at Feluda and asked, ‘Is that the—?’ Feluda nodded in silence. To the west of the lake was a large rocky mound. It could well contain a small cave. The whole thing was at least two hundred and fifty yards away. For sometime now, Feluda had been glancing around, as though he was looking for something specific. Now his eyes seemed to rest on an object. I followed his gaze quickly and saw one leg of a tripod, peeping out from behind a large boulder. Silently, Feluda made his way to it, closely followed by us. A few seconds later, we found Pavandeo Singh peering through his camera. He was using his telephoto lens like a telescope. ‘I can see the cave quite clearly,’ he said as we reached him, ‘but he hasn’t yet come out of it.’ Then he passed the camera to Feluda, who passed it to me after a brief look. The surface of the lake was still, reflecting the faint pink in the sky. I had to turn the camera a little to the left to locate the cave. A saffron flag was stuck between two stones right next to it.

As I looked, the sanyasi slowly