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    Diary of a Pedestrian in 
  Cashmere and Thibet
    
  
    CAPTAIN KNIGHT
  
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      Diary of a Pedestrian
       in Cashmere and Thibet.
       
      Captain Knight
       
       
       
       
      To those for whose perusal the following pages were originally written
      they are affectionately dedicated.
       
       
       
       
      Preface.
       
      With the fullest sense of the responsibility incurred by the addition
      of another volume to the countless numbers already existing, and daily
      appearing in the world, the following Diary has been committed to the
      press, trusting that, as it was not written WITH INTENT to publication,
      the unpremeditated nature of the offence may be its extenuation, and
      that as a faithful picture of travel in regions where excursion trains
      are still unknown, and Travellers' Guides unpublished, the book may
      not be found altogether devoid of interest or amusement. Its object
      is simply to bring before the reader's imagination those scenes and
      incidents of travel which have already been a source of enjoyment to
      the writer, and to impart, perhaps, by their description, some portion
      of the gratification which has been derived from their reality. With
      this view, the original Diary has undergone as little alteration of
      form or matter as possible, and is laid before the reader as it was
      sketched and written during the leisure moments of a wandering life,
      hoping that faithfulness of detail may atone in it for faults and
      failings in a literary and artistic point of view.
       
      Although the journey it describes was written without the advantages
      of a previous acquaintance with the writings of those who had already
      gone over the same ground, subsequent research has added much to the
      interest of the narrative, and information thus obtained has been
      added either in the form of Notes or Appendix. Under the latter head,
      acknowledgment is principally due to an able and interesting essay
      on the architecture of Cashmere, by Capt. Cunningham, and also to a
      paper by M. Klaproth, both of whom appear to have treated more fully
      than any other writers the subjects to which they refer.
       
      As differences will be found to occur in the names of places,
      &c. between the parts thus added and the remainder of the book,
      it may be well to explain that in the former only are they spelt
      according to the usually received method of rendering words of Eastern
      origin in the Roman character. By this system the letters A, E, I,
      O, and U, are given the sounds of the corresponding Italian vowels;
      I and U are pronounced as in "hit" and "put;" and the letter A is
      made to represent the short U in the word "cut." In this way it is
      that Cashmere, correctly pronounced Cushmere, comes to be written
      Kashmir, and Mutun, pronounced as the English word "mutton,"[1] is
      written Matan, both of which, to the initiated, represent the true
      sound of the words. Those who have adopted the system, however, have
      not always employed it throughout, nor given with it the key by which
      it alone becomes intelligible; and the result has been that in many
      ways, but principally from the un-English use made of the letter A,
      it has tended quite as much to mislead and confuse, as to direct.
       
      In the narrative, therefore, wherever custom has not already
      established a particular form of spelling, the explanation of the
      sound has been attempted in the manner which seemed least liable to
      misconception, and, except as regards the letters A and U no particular
      system has been followed. These have been invariably given the sounds
      they possess in the words "path" and "cut" respectively, a circumflex
      being placed over the latter to denote the short U in the word "put."
       
      Such names, therefore, as Cushmere, Tibbut, Muhummud, Hijra, &c. have
      been left as custom has ruled them, and will appear in their more
      well-known costume of Cashmere, Thibet, Mahomet, and Hegira.
       
      The concluding sketch was originally intended to accompany a series
      of brightly-coloured Cashmerian designs illustrative of the life of
      "Krishna;" and the reproduction of these, in their integrity, not
      having been found feasible, the sketch itself may appear DE TROP.
       
      It has, however, been retained on the possibility of the translations
      which occur in it being of interest to those who may not be acquainted
      with the style of Eastern religious literature; while the outline it
      presents of some of the religions of the East, bare and simple as
      it is, may be acceptable to such as are not inclined to search out
      and study for themselves the necessarily voluminous and complicated
      details.
       
      London.
       
       
         
       
      Introduction.
       
      More than a year and a half had been spent in the hottest parts of the
      plains of India, and another dreaded hot season was rapidly making its
      approach, when, together with a brother officer, I applied for and
      obtained six months' leave of absence for the purpose of travelling
      in Cashmere and the Himalayas, otherwise called by Anglo-Indians
      "The Hills."
       
      We had been long enough in the country to have discovered that the
      gorgeous East of our imagination, as shadowed forth in the delectable
      pages of the "Arabian Nights," had little or no connexion with the
      East of our experience -- the dry and dusty East called India, as it
      appeared, wasted and dilapidated, in its first convalescence from the
      fever into which it had been thrown by the Mutiny of 1857 -- 58. We
      were not long, therefore, in making our arrangements for escaping from
      Allahabad, with the prospect before us of exchanging the discomforts
      of another hot season in the plains, for the pleasures of a sojourn in
      the far-famed valley of Cashmere, and a tramp through the mountains of
      the Himalayas -- the mountains, whose very name breathes of comfort and
      consolation to the parched up dweller in the plains. The mountains of
      "the abode of snow!"
       
      Our expeditionary force consisted at starting of but one besides the
      brother officer above alluded to -- the F. of the following pages
      -- and myself. This was my Hindoo bearer, Mr. Rajoo, whose duty
      it was to make all the necessary arrangements for our transport
      and general welfare, and upon whose shoulders devolved the entire
      management of our affairs. He acted to the expedition in the capacity
      of quartermaster-general, adjutant-general, commissary-general,
      and paymaster to the forces; and, as he will figure largely in the
      following pages, under the title of the "Q.M.G.," and comes, moreover,
      under the head of "a naturally dark subject," a few words devoted to
      his especial description and illumination may not be out of place.
       
      With the highest admiration for England, and a respect for the
      Englishman, which extended to the very lining of their pockets,
      Mr. Rajoo possessed, together with many of the faults of his race,
      a certain humour, and an amount of energy most unusual among the
      family of the mild Hindoo. He had, moreover, travelled much with
      various masters, in what are, in his own country, deemed "far lands;"
      and having been wounded before Delhi, he had become among the rest of
      his people an authority, and to the Englishman in India an invaluable
      medium for their coercion and general management.
       
      To us he proved a most efficient incumbent of the several offices
      we selected him to fill. His administration no doubt did display an
      occasional weakness; and his conduct as paymaster to the forces was
      decidedly open to animadversion; for, in this capacity, he seemed to
      be under the impression that payments, like charity, began at home,
      and he also laboured under a constitutional and hereditary infirmity,
      which prevented him in small matters from discerning any difference
      between MEUM and TUUM.
       
      Having been employed collectively, however, it would be unfair to judge
      of his performances in detail; and from his satisfactory management
      of the expedition, occasionally under such trying circumstances as a
      break-down in the land transport, or an utter failure in his tobacco
      supply, we had every reason to be satisfied with our choice. The
      latter misfortune was the only one which really interfered at any time
      with his efficiency, or upset his equanimity, and it unfortunately
      occurred always at the most inopportune seasons, and at a time when
      he was undergoing his greatest hardships.
       
      As long as the supply lasted, the mysterious gurglings of his "Hubble
      Bubble," or cocoa-nut water-pipe, might be heard at almost any hour of
      the day or night. "Hubble bubble, toil and trouble," was the natural
      order of his existence; and when in some peculiarly uncivilised region
      of our wanderings, the compound of dirt, sugar, and tobacco, in which
      his soul delighted, was not forthcoming, he and his pipe seemed at
      once to lose their vitality, and to become useless together. The
      temporary separation which ensued, being in its way a MENSA ET THORO,
      was a source of trouble and inconvenience to all concerned, and we had,
      more than once, cause to regret not having given the tobacco question
      that forethought and consideration to which it would be well entitled
      by any one undertaking a similar expedition.
       
      Overlooking these weaknesses, Mr. Rajoo's character was beyond
      reproach, and for the particular work he had to perform, his
      combination of efficiency, portability, and rascality, rendered him
      in every respect "the right man in the right place."
       
      Such was our "head of affairs," and such the small force he had at
      first to provide for. As we passed out of India, and got further from
      regions of comparative civilisation, his cares increased: cellar,
      kitchen, larder, farm-yard, tents, &c. had then to accompany our
      wandering steps, and the expedition gradually increased in size,
      until it attained its maximum of nearly forty. From this it again as
      gradually decreased, and as one by one our retainers disappeared, it
      dwindled in dimensions until it finally reached its original limited
      proportions, and then "we three met again," once more upon the plains
      of India.
       
      All our necessary preparations having been completed, and a sacrifice
      of three precious weeks having been duly offered to the inexorable
      genius who presides over public correspondence, we reduced our
      impedimenta to the smallest possible compass, and with about a
      hundred pounds to commence life with, all in two shilling pieces,
      that being the only available coin of the realm in this our second
      century of British administration, we took our departure by railway for
      Cawnpore. Here we found ourselves located and hospitably entertained in
      the house in which our unfortunate fellow-countrywomen were confined
      on their recapture from the river by the Nana Sahib, one of the few
      mementos of the mutiny still left standing at Cawnpore.
       
      Next day we laid our dak for Simla, and about six o'clock in
      the evening, with the Q.M.G. on the roof, and ourselves and our
      possessions stowed away in the innumerable holes and corners of
      the rude wooden construction called a "Dak garee," or post coach,
      we took our departure. After a few mishaps with our steed, involving
      the necessity of getting out to shove behind, we entered upon the
      Grand Trunk Road, and with a refreshing sense of freedom and relief,
      soon left Cawnpore in all its native dust and dreariness behind us.
       
       
        
      The Pleasures of the Plains.
       
      MAY 21, 1860. -- Being fairly under weigh, our first attention was
      directed towards the machine which was to be, in a great measure, our
      home for many days to come. Not overburdened with springs, and not much
      to look at, though decidedly an extraordinary one to go, our conveyance
      was by no means uncomfortable; and, stretched upon a mattress extending
      its entire length, F. and I chatted over our plans and projects, and
      star-gazed, and soon fell asleep, in spite of the ruts on the road
      and the wild discordant bugling of our ragged coachman, who seemed
      to consider that, however inferior in other respects, in a matter
      of music we were not to be outdone, not even by Her Majesty's own
      royal mail. At first sight, the necessity of trying to clear such
      lonely roads as we were travelling was not altogether apparent;
      but a slight acquaintance with the general principles and laws of
      progression of the national Indian institution called a bullock-cart,
      or "beil-garee," soon clears up the difficulty. Built entirely of wood,
      and held together by scraps of ropes and cord, a more hopeless-looking
      machine cannot exist; and drivers and bullocks alike share in the
      general woodenness and impassibility of the structure. The animals,
      too, having probably lost all the better feelings of their nature
      in such a service, are appealed to entirely through the medium of
      their tails, and the operation occasionally results in the whole
      creaking mass being safely deposited in some capacious rut, there to
      remain until "the Fates" -- assuming, perhaps, the appearance of three
      additional bullocks -- arrive to draw it out again. Occasionally, too,
      the institution comes to a halt for the night, comfortably drawn up
      in the centre of the line of traffic, with a delightful disregard
      for aught but the present, and an air of supreme contempt for the
      most eloquent music of all the ragged coachmen on the Grand Trunk Road.
       
      Every five miles we stopped to change our horse, and miserable
      indeed was the raw-boned little animal that made his appearance on
      every occasion. Still the pace was kept up in spite of appearances,
      and at seven A.M. we reached "Ghoorsahagunge" -- more generally known
      as GOOSEYGUNGE -- sixty miles from Cawnpore, and 197 from Delhi.
       
      Here we slept in peace until eleven o'clock, and awoke from dreams
      of Cashmere to the unpleasant realities of a violent dust-storm. The
      usual "Khus-khus tatties," or screens of fragrant grass, which are
      kept in a continual state of moisture at door and window, and convert
      the dust-charged scorching blast into a comparative coolness, were
      not forthcoming, and our halt was not a pleasant one by any means:
      still our faces were towards the mountains, and the pleasures of hope
      enabled us to take our misfortunes with entire philosophy. We started
      again about five P.M., when the power of the sun was somewhat abated,
      and encountered the usual difficulties with refractory horses at every
      change. A start was in no case effected without much management and
      exertion. A half-naked black generally attaches himself to each wheel;
      the driver, from a post of vantage, belabours the miserable horse with
      all his might and main; the Q.M.G. takes a firm hold of the rails on
      the roof; and all shouting, grunting, and using bad language together,
      away we go at full gallop, if we are in unusual luck, for about 300
      yards. Then comes a dead stop: the same operation commences again,
      and so on, until the animal is sufficiently far from his last stable
      to be able to look forward with some confidence to the one ahead,
      and resigns himself to circumstances accordingly. One peculiarity in
      this peculiar country we found to be, that in putting our steed-to,
      the English custom is reversed. The cart is "put-to," not the horse;
      and the latter being left standing anywhere on the road, the lumbering
      "garee" is dragged up to his tail, and fastened up with a combination
      of straps and ropes, marvellous to behold.
       
      MAY 23. -- To-day we arrived at "Etawah," where we found a very
      comfortable little staging bungalow, but no supplies of either beer
      or butter procurable. On the road in the early morning there were
      herds of deer and antelope in sight, but time being precious we left
      them unmolested.
       
      As yet very little change makes its appearance in the character of
      the country. Level plains, with patches of trees, mango and palm,
      as far as the eye can reach, and everywhere dust, dust, dust! The
      palm-trees, however, with toddy parties scattered about among them,
      serve to make the scene look cheerful, and, for an eastern one,
      comparatively lively. In the evening we again took the road, with a hot
      wind blowing strongly and steadily, and before long we were overtaken
      by a dust-storm, which completely enveloped us in its murky folds,
      and interfered with our happiness a good deal. Got through the night
      much as usual, with the addition of a midnight vocal entertainment,
      which some hundreds of wolves and jackals treated us to, while the
      "authorities" were looking to our welfare, by taking off and greasing
      our wheels. Of travellers we meet but few, generally bullock-train
      parties, with soldiers, &c., return daks, and an occasional old
      Mussulman, or other native, taking advantage of the early morning
      for his journey, and wrapped and swaddled up as if afraid of being
      congealed by the coolness of the morning air.
       
      Every day's journey leaves one more and more at a loss to discover the
      sources of the wealth of this enormous country. The soil, for miles
      and miles a dead flat, is now barren as a desert, and we meet hardly
      a sign of active traffic. During the night we certainly did encounter
      a long train of heavily-laden bullock-waggons; but the merchandize
      was gunpowder, and its destination was up, instead of down the road.
       
      MAY 24. -- Arrived at "Kurga," where we found neither bread nor butter
      forthcoming -- nothing but -- "plenty fowl, Sahib!" In the evening
      we again encountered a heavy dust-storm, the worst of the season;
      the whole night it continued to blow in our teeth; and between
      the fierce dryness of the wind and the searching particles of dust,
      which visited us without ceremony, we spent anything but an agreeable
      night. At three A.M. we reached the "Hingus Nuddee," or river; and
      changing our solitary horse for two fat bullocks, we crossed its
      sandy bed, and over a bridge of boats -- not so genteelly, perhaps,
      but much more securely, than we could have otherwise done. There were
      the remains here of a handsome suspension bridge; but the chains had
      been cut by the rebel Sepoys, and nothing but the pillars now remained.
       
      MAY 25. -- At four A.M. we crossed the bridge of boats over the Jumna,
      and found ourselves under the gloomy battlements of the Fort of Delhi.
       
      Entering by the Calcutta Gate, we drove through large suburbs, lighted
      up with rows of oil lamps, reminding one, in the dim light, a good
      deal of Cairo. Arriving at the dak bungalow, we found it such a dirty
      looking deserted building, and the interior so much of a piece with
      the exterior, that we mounted again, and set off to try the Hotel, or
      "Pahunch Ghur," -- a name originally intended to convey the meaning
      "An arriving house," but neatly and appropriately corrupted into the
      term "Punch Gur," which speaks for itself, and troubles no one much
      about its derivation. We were rather disappointed with the general
      appearance of the city: dirt and grandeur were closely combined,
      and the combination gave the usual impression of shabby genteelness
      in general, not at first sight prepossessing. After driving through
      what might have been an Eastern Sebastopol, from the amount of ruin
      about, we reached a cut-throat-looking archway; and the coachman, here
      pointing to a dirty board, above his head, triumphantly announced the
      "Punch Gur!" Hot and thirsty, we got out, with visions of rest and
      cooling sherbets, too soon to be dispelled. Passing through long dirty
      halls, and up unsavoury steps, we at last reached a sort of court,
      with beds of sickly flowers, never known to bloom, and from thence
      issued to a suite of musty hot Moorish-looking rooms, with gold-inlaid
      dust-covered tables, and a heavily-draped four-post bedstead, the
      very sight of which, in such a climate, was almost enough to deprive
      one of sleep for ever. Our speech forsook us, and without waiting to
      remark whether the lady of the house was an ogress, or possessed of a
      "rose-coloured body" and face like the full moon, we fairly turned
      tail, and drove in all haste to our despised dak bungalow, where,
      meekly and with softened feelings towards that edifice, we were
      glad to deposit ourselves on a couple of charpoys, or "four-legs,"
      as the bedstead of India is called, and endeavour to sleep the best
      way we could. "Delhi," we found, quite kept up its reputation of being
      the hottest place in India. All idea of sight-seeing was out of the
      question, and the whole of our energies we were obliged to expend in
      endeavouring to keep moderately cool.
       
      After enjoying the two first of blessings in a hot climate -- viz. a
      plentiful supply of cold water and a change of raiment, we felt
      ourselves able to undergo the exertion of meeting the traditional
      grilled fowl at breakfast, and of inspecting the curiosities from the
      bazaars. At the first wish on the latter subject, we were invaded by
      a crowd of bundle-carrying, yellow-turbaned, rascally merchants, who,
      in half a minute, had the whole of their goods on the floor -- rings,
      brooches, ivory ornaments, and inutilities of all sorts and kinds,
      all of them exorbitantly dear, and none of any real value.
       
      We left Delhi again at about six P.M., after loitering about the
      city for a short time, among the teeming bazaars, some parts of
      which were picturesque and "Eastern" enough. Outside the city walls,
      the country was ruined and dilapidated in the extreme; demolished
      houses and wasted gardens telling their tale of the loss of Delhi,
      and our struggle for its recapture.
       
      MAY 26. -- During the night, we got over seventy-three miles, and
      reached "Kurnaul" at seven A.M. The bungalow we found unusually
      comfortable, being a remnant of the old regime, and one of the few
      which escaped from the hands of the rebels during the mutiny.
       
      The country here begins to improve in appearance -- more trees and
      cultivation on all sides; and the natives appear finer specimens
      than their more southern relations. The irrigation, too, seems to be
      carried on with more systematic appliances than further south -- the
      water being raised by the Persian wheel, and bullock-power introduced
      in aid of manual labour.
       
      MAY 27. -- Arrived at Umballa at three A.M., and found the staging
      bungalow full. The only available accommodation being a spare
      charpoy in the verandah, F. took a lease of it, while I revelled in
      the unaccustomed roominess of the entire carriage, and slept till
      six, when we got into our lodgings. Although so near the foot of
      the Himalayas, the weather was so oppressive here that exploring
      was out of the question; and at six P.M., changing our carriage for
      palankeens, or dolies, we commenced a tedious and dusty journey to
      the village of "Kalka," the veritable "foot of the hills," where we
      were met by a string of deputies from the different "DRY-LODGINGS" in
      the neighbourhood, soliciting custom. The first house we came to was
      guarded by an unmistakeable English hotel-keeper, of some eighteen
      stone; and so terrible was the appearance she presented, with her
      arms akimbo, rejoicing in her mountain air, that in our down-country
      and dilapidated condition, we felt quite unequal to the exertion of
      stepping into HER little parlour; and passing her establishment --
      something in the small bathingplace-style of architecture -- we went
      on to the next, very much of the same order, and called the "Brahminee
      Bull." Here, to my dismay however, standing in the selfsame position,
      weighing the same number of stone, and equally confident in the
      purity of her air as her neighbour, stood another female "Briton,"
      with the come-into-my-parlour expression of countenance, regarding us
      as prey. Under the circumstances, exhausted nature gave in; though
      saved from Scylla, our destiny was Charybdis, and we accordingly
      surrendered ourselves to a wash, breakfast, and the Brahminee
      Bull. During the day, we had a visit from a friend and ex-brother
      officer, whom we had promised to stay with, at "Kussowlie," on our
      road up. Kalka was not HOT, but GRILLING, so that a speedy ascent to
      the station was soon agreed upon. Not caring to risk a sun-stroke,
      I resigned myself to the traditional conveyance of the country, a
      "jhampan," while the other two rode up; but here, for the second
      time, it was "out of the fryingpan into the fire." Such an infernal
      machine as my new conveyance turned out never could have existed in
      the palmiest days of the Inquisition. It was a sort of child's cradle,
      long enough for a creature of some five or six summers, made like a
      tray, and hung after the fashion of a miniature four-post bedstead,
      with goat's-hair curtains. The structure is suspended, something in the
      fashion of a sedan-chair which has been stunted in its growth, between
      two poles; between the projections of these again, before and behind,
      connected by a stout strap, are two shorter bars, each supported, when
      in travelling order, on the shoulders of two bearers. When the machine
      is in motion, therefore, there are four men in line between the shafts.
       
      The pace is always rather fast, and down a declivity the torturers
      go at a run; the result is, that prominent parts of one's body are
      continually in collision with the seat or sides of the machine,
      coming down from various altitudes, according to the nature of the
      ground and the humour of the inquisitors. After getting over about
      six miles in this graceful and pleasing manner, we reached the first
      of the fir-trees, and as we rose still higher a delicious breeze came
      over the hills, as precious to the parched and travel-stained pilgrim
      from the plains as a drop of water to the thirstiest wanderer in the
      desert. Kussowlie appeared a picturesque little station, perched at
      the summit of one of the first of the hilly ranges, and here I found
      my two companions, burnt and red in the face as if they, too, had had
      their sufferings on the road, occupied in looking over the goods of a
      strolling Cashmere merchant; luckily for themselves, however, it was
      under the protecting superintendence of our hostess. Our friends were
      living on a miniature estate commanding a magnificent view of the
      mountain ranges on one side, and, on the, other, the plains of the
      Punjab, the scorching country from which we had just made our escape
      lying stretched out before us like an enormous map in relief. Towards
      the mountains were the military stations of "Dugshai" and "Subathoo,"
      and the boys' asylum of "Senore," the latter rather marring the face
      of nature by the workhouse order of its architecture. "Simla" we could
      just distinguish, nestled among the blue mountains in the far distance.
       
      Here we spent a couple of days very pleasantly with our hospitable
      entertainers, and satisfactorily pulled up all arrears of sleep --
      a luxury none can really appreciate who have not travelled for six
      days and nights in the different local conveniences I have mentioned.
       
      Before leaving we had an opportunity of seeing how England in the
      Himalayas makes its morning calls. Walking, which amounts almost to an
      impossibility in "the plains," seems to be voted INFRA DIG. in "the
      hills," and Mrs. Kussowlie according made her appearance seated in
      state in a jhampan, and borne on the shoulders of four of her slaves.
       
      These were active, wiry-looking natives, dressed in long green coats,
      bound with broad, red, tight-fitting pantaloons, and with small turbans
      of red and green on their heads. Altogether, a more startling-looking
      apparition to the uninitiated than this Himalayan morning visitor
      could hardly be imagined, even in a tour through the remotest regions
      of the earth.
       
      MAY 29. -- About six o'clock in the evening we remounted our
      instruments of torture and took the road to Simla. For about seven
      miles the path was down hill, and the bearers being fresh, they
      huddled us along at a pace calculated to outrage our feelings most
      considerably, and, at the same time, with no more consideration
      for our welfare than if we were so many sacks of coal. In spite of
      the sufferings of the principal performers, the procession was most
      amusing; and as we jolted, bumped, and bundled along, it was impossible
      to keep from laughing, although crying, perhaps, would, under the
      circumstances, have been more appropriate. My machine led the way,
      four of the inquisition being in the shafts, and four in waiting,
      running along at the side with pipes, bundles, sticks, &c. Then came
      F. similarly attended, and finally the Q.M.G., hubble bubble in hand,
      and attired in a gold embroidered cap, surrounded by a lilac turban:
      seated in a sort of tray, and reclining at his case in full enjoyment
      of his high position, he looked the priest of the procession, and
      managed to retain his dignity in spite of the rapid and unceremonious
      way in which he was being whirled along. As the moon went down we had
      the additional effect of torchlight to the scene, three bearers having
      the special duty of running along to show the pathway to the rest. This
      seemed a service of some danger, and our torch-bearers at times verged
      upon places where a stumble would have apparently extinguished both
      themselves and their torches for ever. About half way we stopped for
      about an hour for the bearers to partake of a light entertainment of
      "ghee and chupatties" -- otherwise, rancid butter and cakes of flour
      and water. This was their only rest and only meal, from the time they
      left Kussowlie at six P.M. until they reached Simla at eight A.M. The
      same set of bearers took us the entire distance, about thirty-five
      miles; and the four men who were not actually in the shafts used to
      rest themselves by running, ahead and up precipitous short cuts, so as
      to insure a few minutes' pull at the pipe of consolation before their
      turn arrived again. To us, supposed to be the OTIUM CUM DIG. part of
      the procession, the road seemed perfectly endless. No sooner were we
      up one ascent than we were down again on the other side; and when we
      thought Simla must be in sight round the next turn, it seemed suddenly
      to become more hid than ever. In one of these ups and downs of life
      my machine, during a heavy lurch, fairly gave way to its feelings,
      and with a loud crash the pole broke, and down we both came, much to
      my temporary satisfaction and relief. A supply of ropes and lashings,
      however, formed part of the inquisitors' stores, and we were soon
      under weigh again to fulfil the remainder of our destiny.
       
      The entrance to Simla led us through a fine forest of oaks, firs,
      cedars, and other large trees; and winding along through these we
      could, every now and then, discern, towering over the backs of endless
      ranges of blue and hazy mountains, ridge upon ridge of glittering snow,
      which cast its icy breath upon us even where we were, helping us to
      forget the horrors of the night, and giving us a renewal of our lease
      of existence. Simla itself soon opened on our view, a scattered and
      picturesque settlement of houses of the most varied patterns perched
      about over the mountain top, just as an eligible spot presented
      itself for building purposes. It is situated 8,000 feet above the
      level of the sea and 7,000 over the average level of "the plains,"
      Umballa, which is near the foot of the range, being 1,000 above the
      sea-level. From our halting-place we could discern the scene of
      our night's journey, with Kussowlie looking like a mere speck in
      the distance, and we felt a proud sort of consciousness of having
      accomplished a desperate undertaking in very good style. Passive
      endurance was, under the circumstances quite as worthy of praise
      as the more active virtues displayed by those who were the cause of
      our sufferings. After the first good breakfast I had eaten for three
      months, we pulled up arrears of sleep till four P.M. and found, on
      awaking, that our much expected letters had arrived from the post,
      and among them the necessary permission from the Punjab Government
      to travel in Cashmere, and instructions for our guidance while in
      the territory. From among the routes laid down in the latter we chose
      No. 1.[2] The direct line across the mountains from Simla would have
      entailed additional delay and permission, and as time was precious
      we decided upon descending again to the plains and making our way
      through Lahore, not, however, without a severe pang at leaving so
      soon the terrestrial paradise of which we had got a glimpse. After
      arranging our movements with the "authorities," we sallied out to see
      fashionable Simla airing itself, which, as far as dress is concerned,
      it appeared to do very much in the fashionable watering-place style at
      home. The jhampans, palkies, dandies,[3] &c. which took up the entire
      road, however, loudly proclaimed India, Simla being much too dainty
      to touch the ground with its pretty feet, and too lazy to use its own
      legs for purposes of out-door locomotion. The station seems a curious
      combination of many styles and places; the scenery and houses, Swiss;
      the people Anglo Indians, Affghans, Cashmeeries, &c.; the conveyances,
      Inquisito-Spanish; and the bazaars, in their native dirt, pure Indian.
       
      MAY 31. -- After making our leave secure, we made up our minds for a
      plunge into the plains again and a forced march to Lahore, being rather
      expedited in the determination by hearing that several travellers had
      been recalled from leave in consequence of there being a scarcity of
      officers with their regiments.
       
      With a fine moonlight night in our favour we again took the road; and
      practice slightly assuaging our sufferings, we got on smoothly enough
      till within a few hours from Hureepore Bungalow, when my machine again
      broke with a crash, and the nature of the fracture being compound,
      I walked on and left the executioners to repair the instrument at
      their leisure.
       
      JUNE 1. -- Reached Hureepore at four A.M., and found the place in
      possession of a crowd of monkeys of all sorts and sizes, taking an
      early breakfast. Here, chicken and eggs being again written in our
      destiny, we halted for an hour or two, and at eleven again took the
      road with our cast-iron bearers, and hurried along in the noonday sun,
      up hill and down dale, through Kussowlie, and on and on till we were
      once more fairly deposited at the feet of "Mrs. Charybdis." A slight
      dinner here, and at 8.30 P.M. we were again in train, shuffling along
      through several feet of dust, which the bearers, and torch-carriers,
      and the rest of our numerous train, kicked up about us, in clouds
      nearly dense enough to cause suffocation.
       
      JUNE 2. -- At 8.30 A.M. we arrived again at Umballa, and with
      nothing to comfort us in our dusty and worried condition but the
      reflection that our start from Simla was a magnificent triumph of
      stern determination over present enjoyment and unwonted luxury, we
      again resumed our forced march. At six P.M. we took our departure,
      in a very magnificent coach, but in an "unpropitious moment," for the
      horse was unusually averse to an advance of any sort, and when we did
      get clear of the station his opinions were borne out by a terrific
      storm of dust, with a thunder, lightning, and rain accompaniment,
      which effectually put a stop to all further progress. The horse
      for once had his wish, and was brought to a regular stand. The
      wind howled about us, and the dusty atmosphere assumed a dull red
      appearance, such as I had only once before seen at Cawnpore, and the
      like of which might possibly have prevailed during the last days of
      Pompeii. After getting through the worst of the storm, we pushed along,
      and had reached the twentieth mile-stone, when, catching a flavour of
      burning wood, I looked out and found the wheel at an angle of some 30
      degrees, and rubbing against the side preparatory to taking its leave
      altogether. Here was another effect of starting in an unpropitious
      moment. The interruption in the great forced march preyed heavily upon
      our minds, but, on the principle of doing as "Rome does," we took
      a lesson from the religion of "Islam," and concurring in the views
      expressed by our attendant blacks, viz. that "whatever is written in
      a man's destiny that will be accomplished," we ejaculated "Kismut"
      with the rest, and resignedly adapted ourselves to the writings in
      our own particular page of fate. Having sent back to Umballa the news
      of our distress, a new conveyance in a few hours made its appearance;
      and hauling it alongside the wreck, we unshipped the stores, reloaded,
      and eventually reached "Thikanmajura" at eight A.M.
       
      JUNE 3. -- Starting at about three o'clock P.M., we found the
      unpropitious moment still hanging over us: first a violent dust-storm,
      and then a refractory horse, which bolted completely off the road,
      and nearly upset us down a steep bank, proved to demonstration that
      our star was still obscured.
       
      About midnight we reached the river "Sutlej," and exchanged our horse
      for four fat and humpy bullocks, who managed, with very great labour
      and difficulty, to drag us through the heavy sands of the river-bed
      down to the edge of the water. Here we were shipped on board a
      flat-bottomed boat, with a high peaked bow; and, after an immensity
      of hauling and grunting, we were fairly launched into the stream, and
      poled across to the opposite shore. The water appeared quite shallow,
      and the coolies were most of the time in the water; but its width,
      including the sands forming its bed, could not have been less than two
      miles and a half. It was altogether a wild and dreary-looking scene,
      as we paddled along -- the wild ducks and jackals, &c. keeping up a
      concert on their own account, and the patient old bullocks ruminating
      quietly on their prospects at our feet.
       
      On arriving at what appeared to be the opposite bank, we were taken
      out, and again pulled and hauled through the deep sand, only to be
      reshipped again on what seemed a respectable river in its own right;
      and here, getting out of patience with a stream that had no opposite
      bank, I fell asleep, and left the bullocks to their sorrows and
      their destiny.
       
      JUNE 4. -- Arrived at Jullundur, where we had to share the bungalow
      with another traveller and a rising family, who kept us alive by
      howling vigorously all day. The road from this being "Kucha," literally
      UNCOOKED, but here meant to express "unmetalled," we had yet another
      form of conveyance to make acquaintance with. It was a palkee, rudely
      strapped upon the body of a worn-out "Dak garee;" and although a more
      unpromising-looking locomotive perhaps never was placed upon wheels,
      the actual reality proved even worse than the appearance foreboded.
       
      Anybody who has happened to have been run away with in a dust-cart
      through Fenchurch Street, or some other London pavement, the gas pipes
      being up at the time, might form some idea of our sensations as we
      pounded along, at full gallop, over some thirty miles of uneven,
      UNCOOKED road; but to anybody who has not had this advantage,
      description would be impossible. About half way, it appeared that
      it was written in my miserable destiny that the off fore-wheel of my
      shay was to come off, and off it came accordingly; so that once more
      I became an involuntary disciple of Islam, and went to sleep among
      the ruins, with rather a feeling of gratitude for the respite than
      otherwise. On awaking, I found myself again under way; and effecting
      a junction with my companion, we had a light supper off half a
      water-melon; and, after crossing the River Beas by a bridge of boats,
      and being lugged through another waste of sand by bullocks, we once
      again reached a "cooked" road, and arrived at "Umritsur" at six A.M.
       
      JUNE 5. -- Found the heat so great here that we were unable to
      stir out.
       
      As a consolation, we received a visit from four "Sikh Padres," who
      rushed in and squatted themselves down without ceremony, previously
      placing a small ball of candied sugar on the table as a votive and
      suggestive offering. The spokesman, a lively little rascal, with a
      black beard tied up under his red turban, immediately opened fire, by
      hurling at us all the names of all the officers he had ever met or read
      of. The volley was in this style: First, the number of the regiment,
      then Brown Sahib, Jones Sahib, Robinson Sahib, Smith Sahib, Tomkins
      Sahib, Green Sahib, and so on, regiment after regiment and name after
      name, his brother Padres occasionally chiming in in corroboration
      of their friend's veracity and in admiration of his vast stock of
      military information. After much trouble, we got rid of the pack,
      at the price of one rupee, which was cheap for the amount of relief
      afforded by their departure.
       
      JUNE 6. -- Reached Lahore at ten P.M. and had a night in bed, for
      the third time only since leaving Cawnpore. The Q.M.G. being at once
      set to work to make the necessary arrangements for our final start
      for Cashmere, we paid a hurried visit to the Tomb of Runjeet Singh
      and the Fort and City of Lahore. These were worth seeing, but they
      abounded in sights and perfumes, which rendered the operation rather
      a trying one, considering the very high temperature of the weather.
       
      JUNE 7. -- Drove out in a dilapidated buggy, and with an incorrigible
      horse, to Mean Meer, the cantonments of Lahore. The place looked
      burnt up and glaring like its fellows, and a fierce hot wind swept
      over it, which made us glad enough to turn our backs on it and hurry
      home again as fast as our obstinate animal would take us. The Q.M.G.,
      we found, had collected our staff of servants together, and was
      otherwise pushing on our preparations as fast as the dignity and
      importance of the undertaking would admit.
       
      The staff consisted of khidmutgar, bawurchie, bhistie, dhobie, and
      mihtar; or, in plain English, butler, cook, water-carrier, washerman,
      and sweeper.
       
      Of these, the washing department only brought with it its insignia and
      badge of office. This was an enormous smoothing-iron, highly ornamented
      with brass, decorated with Gothic apertures, and made to contain an
      amount of charcoal that would have kept an entire family warm in the
      coldest depths of winter. Being of great weight, we rather objected
      to such an addition to our stores -- the more so as our linen was
      not likely to require much GETTING-UP. The DHOBIE, however, declared
      himself unable to get on without it, and it accordingly had to be
      engaged with its master.
       
      JUNE 8. -- To-day Rajoo is still hard at work laying in stores from
      the bazaars and arranging means of transport for them; the weather hot
      beyond measure; and as neither our food nor quarters are very good,
      we begin to forget our lessons of resignation, more especially as
      the mosquitoes begin to form a very aggravating item in our destiny.
       
      JUNE 9. -- About four P.M. the Q.M.G. came in triumphantly with about
      sixteen tall baskets covered with leather, which he called "khiltas;"
      and having ranged them about the room like the oil-jars of "Ali Baba,"
      he proceeded to cram them with potatoes, tea, clothes, brandy, and the
      whole stock of our earthly goods, in a marvellous and miscellaneous
      manner, very trying to contemplate, and suggestive of their entire
      separation from us and our heirs for ever.
       
      Coolies not being procurable in sufficient numbers to carry away
      all our stores together, F. and I agreed to start in the morning,
      leaving the head of affairs with the rearguard to follow at his
      leisure. Got away at last in two "palkees," with four "banghy
      wallahs," or baggage-bearers, carrying our immediate possessions,
      guns, &c. Spent the night wretchedly enough, the roads being of the
      worst, and covered nearly a foot deep everywhere with fine dust,
      which our bearers very soon stirred up into an impenetrable cloud,
      enveloping us in its folds to the verge of suffocation.
       
      The sensation is strange enough, travelling in this way along a lonely
      road at dead of night, closely shut up in an oblong box, and surrounded
      by some twenty or more dusky savages, who could quietly tap one on
      the head at any time, and appropriate the bag of rupees -- inseparable
      from Indian travelling -- without the slightest difficulty. That they
      do not do so is probably from the knowledge they possess that with
      the bag of rupees there is generally to be found a revolver, and that
      an English traveller is of so generous a disposition that he seldom
      parts from his money without giving a little lead in with the silver.
       
      JUNE 10. -- After a dusty jolt of forty miles, we reached "Gugerwalla"
      at eight A.M., and felt the change from Lahore most refreshing. The
      village seemed a quiet little settlement, very little visited by
      Englishmen, and the inhabitants, probably on that account, appeared
      of a different stamp from those we had hitherto met. The women, in
      particular, were more gaily dressed, and not so frightened at a white
      face as more south. The rearguard not having come up at six P.M. we
      started off without it. Crossed the Chenab during the night. The
      fords, by torchlight, were most picturesque, and rather exciting,
      in consequence of the water at times taking it into its head to see
      what was inside the "palkee." The Chenab makes the fourth out of the
      "five waters" from which the "Punjab" takes its name. The Jhelum only
      remains -- the ancient Hydaspes of Alexandrian notoriety.
       
      JUNE 11. -- Reached "Goojerat" at five A.M. and enjoyed a few hours
      of quiet sleep in a very comfortable bungalow. The "khiltas" not
      making their appearance, we halt here for the night. In the evening
      we explored the city -- a straggling rabbit-barrow settlement,
      inclosed by a mud wall, and boasting the narrowest streets I had
      ever seen. In an open space we came upon a marvellously-ornamented
      "mundir," or Hindoo temple, painted in the most florid style, with
      effigies of dark gentlemen in coloured pants riding on peacocks,
      antelopes, and other beasts of burden common in the country. It seemed
      the centre of attraction to a numerous concourse of strangers from the
      north; among others, a bevy of young ladies with loose trousers and
      fair complexions, evidently "Cashmeeries," who seemed to regard the
      "heathen temple" as one of the wonders of the world. In the middle
      of the night the rearguard came in with the supplies, and we at
      once turned it into an advanced-guard, and packed it off to make
      preparations for our arrival at "Bimber."
       
      JUNE 12. -- Spent a very hot day at Goojerat, and amused ourselves by
      inspecting the gold-inlaid work for which the place is famous. At 5.30
      P.M. we started for our last night's journey in British territory;
      and thus terminated, for the present, our experiences of all the hot
      and dusty "pleasure of the Plains."
       
       
       
      Cashmere.
       
      JUNE 13. -- About two A.M. we passed out of India into the territory
      of His Highness the Maharajah of Cashmere, and halted at Bimber. The
      accommodation here turned out to be most indifferent, although
      in our route the edifice for travellers was called a "Baraduree,"
      which sounded grandly. It means a summer-house with twelve doors;
      but beyond the facilities it afforded of rapid egress, we found it
      to possess but few advantages.
       
      Putting a couple of charpoys outside, we managed a few hours' sleep
      AL FRESCO, in spite of the flies and mosquitoes innumerable, who lost
      no time in taking possession of their new property. On being able
      to discern the face of the country, we found ourselves at the foot
      of a range of hills of no great height, but still veritable hills;
      and although the sun was nearly as hot as in the plains, we felt
      that we were emancipated from India, and that all our real travelling
      troubles were over. In the evening we inspected the Maharajah's troops,
      consisting of eight curiously-dressed and mysteriously-accoutred sepoys
      under a serjeant. These same troops had rather astonished us in the
      morning by filing up in stage style in front of our two charpoys just
      as we awoke, and delivering a "Present arms" with great unction as we
      sat up in a half-sleepy and dishevelled condition, rubbing our eyes,
      and not exactly in the style of costume in which such a salute is
      usually received. We now found the "army" in the domestic employment
      of cooking their victuals, so that we were unable to have much of a
      review. However, we looked at their arms and accoutrements; ammunition
      they had none; and saw them perform the "manual and platoon." Their
      arms had been matchlocks, but had been converted, these stirring
      times, into flintlocks! In addition to these, which were about
      as long as a respectable spear, they had each a sword and shield,
      together with a belt and powder-horn, all clumsy in the extreme. In
      loading, we found an improvement on the English fashion, for, after
      putting the imaginary charge in with the hand, they BLEW playfully
      down the muzzle to obviate the difficulty of the powder sticking to
      the sides. After presenting the troops with "bukhshish," we strolled
      through the village and met the "thanadar," or head man, coming out
      to meet us, arrayed in glorious apparel and very tight inexpressibles,
      and mounted on a caparisoned steed. Dismounting, he advanced towards us
      salaaming, and holding out a piece of money in the palm of his hand;
      and not exactly knowing the etiquette of the proceeding, we touched
      it and left it where we found it, which appeared to be a relief to
      his mind, for he immediately put it in his pocket again.
       
      His chief conversation was on the subject of the Maharajah and the
      delights of Cashmere, and anxiety as to our having got all supplies,
      &c. which we required, as he had been appointed expressly for the
      purpose of looking after the comfort of the English visitors. What
      with our friend and his train, and the detachment of "THE ARMY" which
      had accompanied us, our retinue began to assume the appearance of
      a procession; and it was with great difficulty that we induced them
      all to leave us, which they did at last after we had expressed our
      full satisfaction at the courtesy displayed by the Maharajah's very
      intelligent selection of a "thanadar."
       
      JUNE 14. -- Broke up our camp about three A.M. and started our
      possessions at four o'clock, after some difficulty in prevailing upon
      the coolies to walk off with their loads. On mustering our forces, we
      found that they numbered thirty-seven, including ourselves. Of these
      twenty-four were coolies, carrying our possessions -- beer, brandy,
      potatoes, &c.; our servants were six more; then there were four ponies,
      entailing a native each to look after them; and, last of all, one of
      the redoubtable "army" as a guard, who paraded in the light marching
      order of a sword, shield, bag of melons, and an umbrella. F. and I
      travelled on "yaboos," or native ponies -- unlikely to look at, but
      wonderful to go. Mine was more like a hatchet than anything else,
      and yet the places he went over and the rate he travelled up smooth
      faces of rock was marvellous to behold.
       
      About eight o'clock we found ourselves once more among the pine-trees;
      and, although the sun was very powerful, we had enough of the freshness
      of the mountain air to take away the remembrance of the dusty plains
      from our minds. No rain having fallen as yet, the springs and rivers
      were all nearly dry; but we saw several rocky beds, which gave good
      promise of fly-fishing, should they receive a further supply of water.
       
      About nine A.M. we reached our halting-place, "Serai Saidabad," a
      ruined old place, with a mud tenement overlooking, at some elevation,
      the banks of a river.
       
      Here we were again received with a salute, by a detachment of
      warriors drawn up in full dress -- viz. red and yellow turbans,
      and blue trousers with a red stripe.
       
      After undergoing a refreshing bath of a skin of water, taken in our
      drawing-room, we got our artist to work at breakfast, and shortly
      after found, with considerable satisfaction, that we were in for the
      first of the rains. This welcome fact first proclaimed itself by the
      reverberation of distant thunder from among the mountains to the north;
      then an ominous black cloud gradually spread itself over us, and,
      with a storm of dust, down came the rain in torrents, making the air,
      in a few minutes, cool and delicious as possible, and entirely altering
      the sultry temperature which had previously prevailed. The thirsty
      ground soaked up the moisture as if it had never tasted rain, and the
      trees came out as if retouched by Nature's brush; while as, for F. and
      myself, we turned the unwonted coolness to the best account we could,
      by setting ourselves to work to pull up all arrears of sleep forthwith.
       
      JUNE 15. -- Started at four A.M., with our numerous train, and found
      the road all the pleasanter for the rain of the previous evening,
      and all things looking green and fresh after the storm. Our path led
      us up a rocky valley, with its accompanying dashing stream, in the
      bed of which we could see traces of what the brawler had been in his
      wilder days, in huge and polished boulders and water-worn rocks, which
      had been hurled about in all directions. We afterwards went straight
      up a precipitous mountain, wooded with pine, which was no light work
      for the coolies, heavily laden as they were. No sooner, however,
      were we on the top of this than down we went on the other side; and
      how the ponies managed their ups-and-downs of life was best known
      to themselves; certainly, nothing but a cat or a Cashmere pony could
      have got over the ground. About nine A.M. we reached "Nowshera," under
      another salute, where we found an indifferent-looking "Baraduree,"
      completely suffocated among the trees of a garden called the "Bauli
      Bagh," or "Reservoir Garden," from a deep stone well in the centre of
      it. Here we got on indifferently well, the weather being close after
      the rain, and the place thickly inhabited by crowds of sparrows,
      all with large families, who made an incessant uproar all day long;
      besides an army of occupation of small game, which interfered sadly
      with our sleeping arrangements at night. In the evening we made the
      acquaintance of a loquacious and free-and-easy gardener, entirely
      innocent of clothes, who came and seated himself between F. and myself,
      as we were perched upon a rock enjoying the prospect. According to his
      account, the Maharajah's tenants pay about seven rupees, or fourteen
      shillings, per annum for some five acres of land. In the middle of
      the night we came in for another storm of thunder and lightning,
      which took a good many liberties with our house, but cooled the air;
      and only for the mosquitoes, and other holders of the property, whose
      excessive attentions were rather embarrassing, we would have got
      on very well. As it was, however, I hardly closed an eye all night,
      and spent the greater part of it in meandering about the Bauli Bagh,
      VESTITO DA NOTTE -- in which operation I rejoice to think that, like
      the Russians at the burning of Moscow, I at least put the enemy to
      very considerable inconvenience, even at the expense of my own comfort.
       
      JUNE 16. -- About half-past four A.M. we got under weigh again,
      heartily delighted to leave the sparrows and their allies in undisputed
      possession of their property.
       
      The "kotwal," and other authorities, who had been extremely civil in
      providing supplies, coolies, &c., according to the Maharajah's order,
      took very good care not to let us depart without a due sense of the
      fact, for they bothered us for "bukhshish" just as keenly as the lowest
      muleteer; and when I gave the kotwal twelve annas, or one shilling and
      sixpence, as all the change I had, he assured me that the khidmutgar
      had more, and ran back to prove it by bringing me two rupees. I gave
      the scoundrel one, and regretted it for three miles, for he had robbed
      the coolies in the morning, either on his own or his master's account,
      of one anna, or three-halfpence each, out of their hardly-earned
      wages. To-day we find ourselves once more among the rocks and pines,
      and as we progressed nothing could exceed the beauty of the views
      which opened upon us right and left. A mountain stream attended our
      steps the whole way sometimes smoothly and placidly, sometimes dancing
      about like a mad thing, and teasing the sturdy old battered rocks and
      stones which long ago had settled down in life along its path, and
      which, from the amount of polish they displayed, must themselves have
      been finely knocked about the world in their day. Rounding a turn of
      the river, where it ran deeply under its rocky bank, we came suddenly
      upon the ghastly figure of a man carefully suspended in chains from a
      prominent tree. His feet had been torn off by the wolves and jackals,
      but the upper part of the body remained together, and there he swung
      to and fro in the breeze, a ghastly warning to all evildoers, and
      a not very pleasing monument of the justice of the country. He was
      a sepoy of the Maharajah's army, who had drowned his comrade in the
      stream below the place where he thus had expiated his crime. Not far
      from this spot we discovered traces of another marauder, in the shape
      of a fresh footprint of a tiger or a leopard, just as he had prowled
      shortly before along the very path we were pursuing.
       
      From this we gradually got into a region of fruit-trees, interspersed
      with pines; and sometimes we came upon a group of scented palms, which
      looked strangely enough in such unusual company. Through clustering
      pomegranates, figs, plums, peach-trees, wild but bearing fruit, we
      journeyed on and on; and, as new beauties arose around us, we could
      not help indulging in castles in the air, and forming visions of
      earthly paradises, where, with the addition only of such importations
      as are inseparable from all ideas of paradise, either in Cashmere or
      elsewhere, one might live in uninterrupted enjoyment of existence,
      and, at least, bury in oblivion all remembrance of such regions as the
      "Plains of India."
       
      About ten A.M., after a continuous series of ups-and-downs of varied
      scenery, we arrived at "Chungas," a picturesque old serai, perched
      upon a hill over the river. It was marked off in our route as having no
      accommodation, but, located among the mouldering remnants of grandeur
      of an old temple in the centre of the serai, we managed to make
      ourselves very comfortable, and thought our "accommodation" a most
      decided improvement upon our late fashionable but rather overcrowded
      halting-place. From the serai we can see, for the first time, the
      snowy range of the Himalayas, trending northwards, towards the Peer
      Punjal Pass, through which our route leads into the Valley of Cashmere.
       
      JUNE 17. -- Another ride through hill and dale to "Rajaori," or
      "Rampore," a most picturesque-looking town, built in every possible
      style of architecture, and flanked at one extremity by a ruined
      castle. Our halting-place was in an ancient serai, with a dilapidated
      garden, containing the remains of some rather handsome fountains. It
      was situated on a rock, several hundred feet above the river which
      separated us from the town; and, from our elevated position, we had
      a fine view of the whole place, and got an insight into the manners
      and customs of the inhabitants, without their being at all aware of
      our proximity.
       
      The women and children appeared to be dressed quite in the Tartar
      style: the women with little red square-cornered fez caps, with a
      long strip of cloth thrown gracefully over them, and either pyjamas
      of blue stuff with a red stripe, or a long loose toga of greyish
      cloth, reaching nearly to the feet. The little girls were quite of
      the bullet-headed Tartar pattern, of Crimean recollection, but wore
      rather less decoration. The Crimean young ladies generally had a three
      cornered charm suspended round their necks, while the youthful fashion
      of Rajaori, scorning all artificial adornment, selected nature only
      as their mantua-maker, and wore their dresses strictly according to
      her book of patterns. After enjoying a delightfully cool night in
      our elevated bedroom, we started for "Thanna."
       
      Our path led through a gradually ascending valley, cultivated, for
      the rice crop, in terraces, and irrigated by a complicated net-work
      of channels, cut off from the mountain streams, and branching off
      in every direction to the different elevations. The ground was so
      saturated in these terraces that ploughing was carried on by means of
      a large scraper, like a fender, which was dragged along by bullocks,
      the ploughman standing up in the machine as it floundered and wallowed
      about, and guiding it through the sea of mud.
       
      JUNE 18. -- Reached Thanna at nine A.M. and came to a halt in a shady
      spot outside the village. There was an old serai about half a mile
      off, but it was full of merchants and their belongings, and savoured
      so strongly of fleas and dirt, that we gave it up as impracticable.
       
      This was the first instance of our finding no shelter; and, as ill
      luck would have it, our tents took the opportunity of pitching
      themselves on the road, a number of coolies broke down, and one
      abandoned our property and took himself off altogether. Under these
      interesting circumstances, we were obliged to spend the day completely
      AL FRESCO, and to wait patiently for breakfast until the fashionable
      hour of half-past two P.M. The inhabitants took our misfortunes very
      philosophically, and stopped to stare at us to their heart's content
      as they went by for water, wondering, no doubt, at that restless
      nature of the crazy Englishman, which drives him out of his own
      country for the sole purpose, apparently, of being uncomfortable in
      other people's. Our position, although at the foot of the grander
      range of mountains, we found very hot, and a good deal of ingenuity
      was required in order to find continued shelter from the scorching
      rays of the sun. The natives here, seemed to suffer to a great extent
      from goitre, and one of our coolies in particular had three enormous
      swellings on his neck, horrible to look at. During the night, Rajoo
      came in with the missing baggage, except two khiltas, for which no
      carriage could be procured, and which he was in consequence obliged
      to abandon on the road until assistance could be sent to them.
       
      JUNE 19. -- Started at daybreak from our unsatisfactory quarters, and
      enjoyed some of the finest scenery we had yet encountered. The road
      ascended pretty sharply into what might be called the REAL mountains,
      and finding our spirits rise with the ground, we abandoned our ponies
      and resolved to perform the remainder of our wanderings on foot. As we
      reached the summit of our first ascent, and our range of view enlarged,
      mountain upon mountain rose before us, richly clothed with forest
      trees; while, overtopping all, peeped up the glistening summits of
      the snowy range, everything around seems cool and pleasant, in spite
      of the hot sun's rays, which still poured down upon us. Our road from
      this, descending, lay among the nooks and dells of the shady side of
      the mountain; and the wild rose and the heliotrope perfumed the air
      at every step as we walked along in full enjoyment of the morning
      breeze. Our sepoy guide of to-day was not of the educated branch of
      the army. He was the stupidest specimen of his race I had ever met;
      and as his language was such a jargon as to be nearly unintelligible,
      we failed signally in obtaining much information from him.
       
      Among other questions, I made inquiries as to woodcock, the cover
      being just suited to them, and after a great deal of difficulty
      in explaining the bird to him, he declared that he knew the kind
      of creature perfectly, and that there were plenty of them. By way
      of convincing us, however, of his sporting knowledge, he added that
      they were in the habit of living entirely on fruit; and he was sadly
      put out when F. and I both burst into laughter at the idea of an old
      woodcock with his bill stuck into a juicy pear, or perhaps enjoying a
      pomegranate for breakfast. Shortly after, we came suddenly upon quite
      a new feature in the scene -- a strange innovation of liveliness in
      the midst of solitude.
       
      At a bend in the road, what should appear almost over our heads but
      a troop of about a hundred monkeys, crashing through the firs and
      chestnuts, and bounding in eager haste from tree to tree, in their
      desire to escape from a party of natives coming from the opposite
      direction. They were large brown monkeys, of the kind called lungoors,
      standing, some of them, three feet high, and having tails considerably
      longer than themselves. Their faces were jet black, fringed with
      light grey whiskers, which gave them a most comical appearance.; and
      as they jumped along from tree to tree, sometimes thirty and forty
      feet, through the air, with their small families following as best
      they could, they made the whole forest resound with the crashing of
      the branches, and amused us not a little by their aerial line of march.
       
      After crossing a dashing mountain-torrent by a rude bridge of trees
      thrown across it, we arrived at the village of Burrumgulla. Here our
      guide wanted us to halt in a mud-built native serai, but, with the
      recollection of past experience fresh upon us, we declined, preferring
      to choose our own ground and pitch our first encampment. The ground
      we selected was almost at the foot of a noble waterfall, formed by a
      huge cleft in a mass of rugged rock. The water, dashing headlong down,
      was hidden in the recess of rock below, but the spray, as it rose up
      like vapour and again fell around us, plainly told the history of its
      birth and education. Even had we not seen the snowy peaks before us
      from the mountain top, there was no mistaking, from its icy breath,
      the nursery in which its infant form had been cradled. Just at our
      feet was one of the frail and picturesque-looking pine bridges spanning
      the torrent; while just below it another mountain river came tumbling
      down, and, joining with its dashing friend, they both rolled on in
      life together. As soon as our traps arrived, F. and I had a souse in
      the quietest pool we could find, and anything so cold I never felt;
      it was almost as if one was turned into stone, and stopping in it
      more than a second was out of the question. After breakfast and a
      SIESTA, we sallied out to try and explore the head of the cataract
      above us. After rather a perilous ascent over loose moss and mould,
      and clutching at roots of shrubs and trees, we were brought to a
      stand by a huge mass of perpendicular rock, which effectually barred
      us from the spot through which the water took its final leap. The
      upper course of the torrent, however, amply repaid us for our labour,
      for it ran through the most lovely dell I ever saw; and as it bounded
      down from rock to rock, and roared and splashed along, it seemed to
      know what there was before it, and to be rejoicing at the prospect
      of its mighty jump. Torrent as it seemed, it was evidently nothing
      to what it could swell to when in a rage, for here and there, far
      out of its present reach, and scattered all about, were torn and
      tattered corpses of forest trees, which had evidently been sucked up
      and carried along until some rock more abrupt than its neighbours,
      had brought them to a stand and left them, bleached and rotting, in
      the summer's sun. At night we found ourselves glad to exchange our
      usual covering of a single sheet for a heavy complement of blankets,
      and found our encampment not the least too warm. The authorities here
      were particularly civil and obliging, and supplied us with the best
      of butter, eggs, and milk. The latter was particularly good, and,
      not having often tasted cow's milk in the Plains, we did it ample
      justice here.
       
      JUNE 20. -- Found it rather hard to turn out this morning, in
      consequence of the great change in the temperature, but got under weigh
      very well considering. Our path led us up the main torrent towards the
      snow, and in the first three miles we crossed about twenty pine-tree
      bridges thrown across the stream, some of them consisting of a single
      tree, and all in the rudest style of manufacture. Near one of these,
      under an immense mass of rock, we passed our first snow. It looked,
      however, so strange and unexpected, that we both took it for a block of
      stone; and being thatched, as it were, with leaves and small sticks,
      &c., and discoloured on all sides, it certainly bore no outward
      resemblance to what it really was.
       
      After an almost perpendicular ascent up natural flights of steps, we
      reached our next stage, Poshana -- a little mud-built, flat-roofed
      settlement on the mountain-side. Here we engaged a couple of
      "shikarees," or native sportsmen, and made preparations for a DETOUR
      into the snows of the Peer Punjal in search of game.
       
      JUNE 21. -- Having made a division of our property, and sent the
      Q.M.G. with an advanced guard two stages on to Heerpore, F. and
      I started at daybreak for a five-days' shooting expedition in the
      mountains.
       
      We took with us a khidmutgar and bhistie -- both capital servants,
      but unfortunately not accustomed to cold, much less to snow. Besides
      these, we had ten coolies to carry our baggage, consisting of two
      small tents, bedding, guns, and cooking utensils, &c.; and our two
      shikarees with their two assistants. The two former wore named Khandari
      Khan and Baz Khan, -- both bare-legged, lightly clothed, sharp-eyed,
      hardy-looking mountaineers, and well acquainted with the haunts of
      game, and passes through the snow.
       
      For the first time we had now to put on grass shoes or sandals;
      and though they felt strange at first, we soon found that they were
      absolutely necessary for the work we had before us. Our shoemaker
      charged us six annas, or ninepence, for eight pairs, and that was
      thirty per cent. over the proper price. However, as one good day's
      work runs through a new pair, they are all the better for being rather
      cheap. Along the road in all directions one comes across cast-off
      remains of shoes, where the wearer has thrown off his worn-out ones
      and refitted from his travelling stock; and in this way the needy
      proprietor of a very indifferent pair of shoes may, perchance, make
      a favourable exchange with the cast-off pair of a more affluent
      pedestrian; but, to judge from the specimens we saw, he must be
      very needy indeed in order to benefit by the transaction. On leaving
      Poshana, we immediately wound up the precipitous side of a mountain
      above us, and soon found that, from the rarification of the air, and
      the want of practice, we felt the necessity of calling a halt very
      frequently, for the purpose, of course, of admiring the scenery and
      expatiating upon the beauties of nature. About two miles on the way
      we came to a slip in the mountain-side, and just as we scrambled,
      with some difficulty, across this, our foremost shikaree suddenly
      dropped down like a stone, and motioning us to follow his example,
      he stealthily pointed us out four little animals, which he called
      "markore," grazing at the bottom of a ravine. Putting our sights to
      about 250 yards, we fired both together, with the best intentions, but
      indifferent results; for they all scampered off apparently untouched,
      and we again resumed our march.
       
      Our encamping ground we found situated among a shady grove of
      fir-trees, with a mountain-torrent running beneath, bridged over, as
      far as we could see, with dingy-looking fields of snow and ice. Here,
      in the middle of June; with snow at our feet, above us, and around
      us, we pitched our tent, and had breakfast, and laid our plans for a
      search for game to-morrow. Though the wind blew cold and chilly off the
      snows, we soon found that the midday sun still asserted his supremacy,
      and our faces and hands soon bore witness to the fierceness of the
      trial of strength between the two. Our camp, although so high up,
      was not more than six miles from Poshana, and from thence we drew all
      our supplies, such as milk, eggs, and fowls, &c., the coolies' and
      shikarees' subsistence being deducted from their pay. Our own living
      was not expensive: fowls, threepence each for large, three-halfpence
      small; milk, three-halfpence per quart, and eggs, twelve for the
      like amount, or one anna. For the rest, we lived upon chupatties, or
      unleavened cakes of flour -- very good hot, but "gutta-percha" cold --
      potatoes from Lahore, and, in the liquid line, tea and brandy. At night
      we slept upon the ground -- pretty hard it was while one was awake to
      feel it -- and not having any lamp, we turned in shortly after dark,
      while in the morning we were up and dressed before the nightingales
      had cleared their voices. These latter abounded all about us, and
      formed a most agreeable addition to our establishment.
       
      JUNE 22. -- Left our camp before sunrise, and crossing a large field
      of snow over the main torrent, we clambered up the precipitous side
      of our opposite mountain. The snow at first felt piercingly cold as
      it penetrated our snow-shoes, but before we reached the top, we had
      little to complain of in the way of chilliness. Our sharp-sighted
      guides soon detected game on the rocks above us, and off we went on
      a stalk, over rocks and chasms of snow -- now running, now crawling
      along, more like serpents than respectable Christians, and all
      in a style that would have astonished nobody more than ourselves,
      could we have regarded the performance in the cool light of reason,
      and not influenced by the excitement of chasing horned cattle of such
      rare and curious proportions.
       
      The markore, however, were quite as interested in the sport as we were,
      and after an arduous and protracted stalk, they finally gave us the
      slip, and we called a halt at the summit of a hill for breakfast and a
      rest during the heat of the day. The former we enjoyed as we deserved,
      but for the latter I can't say much : occasionally a cold blast from
      off the snow would run right through us, while the sun bore down upon
      our heads with scorching power, making havoc with whatever part of us
      it found exposed to its rays, and blistering our hands and legs. The
      guides helped us out by building up a most ricketty-looking shanty
      with sticks and pieces of their garments and our own, and under this
      apology for shelter, with our feet almost in the snow, we passed the
      day, until it was cool enough again to look for game. In the evening
      we came suddenly upon a kustura, a sort of half goat, half sheep,
      with long teeth like a wolf. He was, however, in such thick cover,
      that we were unable to get a shot at him.
       
      Our camp, we found, moved, according to order, some three miles higher
      up, to facilitate the shooting on that side: it was still, however,
      among the firs and nightingales.
       
      JUNE 23. -- Up again before sunrise, and off to the tops of the
      mountains in search of game. The pull-up took us about an hour and a
      half, and on reaching the summit, we found ourselves above the pass
      of the Peer Punjal, the rocky and snow-covered ranges of mountain
      around us gradually trending off on all sides, and losing themselves in
      pine-covered slopes, till they finally blended with the blue outlines
      of the ranges of Pills we had crossed on our route from Bimber. While
      taking a sharp look around us for a herd of some twenty animals which
      we had seen the day previously, we suddenly found ourselves close
      to a party of five markore, but they scampered off so fast over rock
      and snowdrift, that they gave us no opportunity of getting a shot.
       
      Following them up, we came, while clinging to an overhanging ledge of
      rock, upon one solitary gentleman standing about 150 yards below. We
      both fired together, but the pace we had come, and the ground we had
      crossed, had unsteadied our aim, and though my second bullet parted
      the wool on his back, it was not written that our first markore
      was to fall so easily. After this we tracked the first herd for
      a long distance over the snow, until they scampered down an almost
      perpendicular face of snow and ice, and here we gave them up, halting
      on a spur of the mountain for a repast of chicken, eggs, chupatties,
      and cold tea. During our morning's work we had come across some
      most break-neck places, and had one or two narrow escapes, which,
      at the time, one was hardly conscious of. The snow was wedged into
      the ravines like sheets of ice, and being most precipitous, and
      continuing to the very foot of the mountains, terminating in the
      numerous torrents which they fed, a single false step in crossing
      would have sent one rolling down, without a chance of stopping, to be
      dashed to pieces at the bottom. In this way, a couple of years before,
      two coolies and a shikaree had been killed, while shooting with an
      officer. F. and I generally crossed these places in the footsteps
      of the guides, or in holes cut by them for our feet with a hatchet;
      but the men themselves passed them with a dash, which only long
      practice and complete confidence could have imitated. During our halt
      we suffered a good deal from the sun, although the snow was only six
      inches off. In spite of the shade which our guides constructed for
      us out of mysterious portions of their dress, both our wrists and
      ankles were completely swollen and blistered before evening, while
      our faces and noses in particular began to assume the appearance so
      generally suggestive of Port wine and good living.
       
      Our descent to the camp was a good march in itself, and we arrived
      there about five P.M. hot and tired, 'but quite ready for our mountain
      fare. On our road, we luckily discovered a quantity of young rhubarb,
      growing in nature's kitchen-garden, and pouncing on it, we devoted it
      to the celebration of our Sunday dinner.[4] We also saw a number of
      minaur, or jungle-fowl, something of the pheasant tribe; but they were
      so wild that nothing but slugs would secure them, and they entirely
      declined the honour of an invitation to our Sunday entertainment.
       
      JUNE 24. -- We were not at all sorry to remember this morning,
      as the sun rose, that it was a day of rest, for after our last
      few days of work we were fully able to enjoy it. Amused ourselves
      exploring all about us, and picking wild flowers in memory of our
      camp. The commonest were wild pansy and forget-me-not, and the
      rhododendron grew in quantities. In the afternoon we made a muster
      of our standing provisions, having only brought four days' supply,
      and seeing little chance of getting back for ten. The result was.,
      that tea was reported low, potatoes on their last legs, and brandy
      in a declining state. Under these melancholy circumstances, we
      agreed to stop another day for shooting, and then march over the
      snows for Aliabad and Heerpore, to join our main body at the latter
      place. A road by Cheta Panee was declared impracticable for coolies,
      in consequence of the hardness of the snow; so we gave it up.
       
      JUNE 25. -- All over the mountains again this morning before daybreak,
      and up to breakfast-time without seeing game. However, one of our
      sharp-sighted guides then detected markore, grazing at a long distance
      up the mountains; even through the glasses they were mere specks,
      and, to our unpractised eyes, very like the tufts and stones around
      them; but in all faith that our guides were right, off we started in
      pursuit. The first step was to lose all our morning's toil by plunging
      for a mile or so down a steep descent. After that being accomplished,
      up we went again, up and up an apparently interminable bank of snow, at
      an angle of about sixty degrees, and slippery as glass. At the summit,
      exhausted and completely out of breath, we did at last arrive, and from
      this our friends of the morning were expected to be within shot. Not a
      sign of a living creature appeared, however, to enliven the solitude
      around us, and we began to think that our guides were a little TOO
      clear-sighted this time, when what should suddenly come upon us but
      a solitary old markore, slowly and leisurely rounding a rugged point
      of rock below. We were all squatted in a bunch upon a space about as
      large as a good-sized towel; but, hidden as we thought ourselves,
      I could discern that our friend had evidently caught a glimpse of
      something which displeased him in his morning cogitations. Still,
      on he came, and just as he crossed a small field of snow, F. opened
      fire at him across the ravine: the ball struck just below his body,
      and, as he plunged forward, I followed with both barrels. On he went,
      however, and before another shot could be fired he was coolly looking
      down upon us from a terrace of inaccessible rocks, completely out of
      range. Nothing remained but to descend again, and this we accomplished
      very much more speedily, though perhaps not quite in such a graceful
      style as we had ascended. The shikarees merely sat down on the inclined
      plane, and with a hatchet or a stick firmly pressed under the arm as
      a lever to regulate the pace, or a rudder to steer clear of rocks as
      occasion might require, down they went at a tremendous pace, until
      the slope was not sufficient to propel them further.
       
      Our own wardrobe being limited in dimensions we declined adopting this
      mode of locomotion, and slipping and sliding along, soon accomplished
      the descent, in a less business-like but equally satisfactory
      manner. While taking the direction of our camp, we espied seven more
      animals, perched apparently upon a smooth face of rock; and after a
      short council of war off we started on a fresh stalk, down another
      descent, over more fields of snow, and up a place where a cat would
      have found walking difficult.
       
      While accomplishing this latter movement, our guides detected two
      huge red bears, an enormous distance off, enjoying themselves in
      the evening air, and feeding and scratching themselves alternately,
      as they sauntered about in the breeze. Abandoning our present stalk,
      which was not promising, down we went again, and crossing about a
      mile and a half of broken ground, snow, rocks, &c., we reached a wood
      close to the whereabouts of our new game. F. and I, separating, had
      made the place by different routes, and just as I had caught sight of
      one enormous monster, F. and the shikaree appeared, just on the point
      of walking into his jaws. Having, by great exertion, prevented this
      catastrophe, we massed our forces, and taking off our hats, just as if
      we were stalking an unpopular landed proprietor in Tipperary, we crept
      up to within sixty yards of the unsuspicious monster, and fired both
      together. With a howl and a grunt, the huge mass doubled himself up,
      and rolled into the cover badly wounded. Being too dangerous a looking
      customer to follow directly, we reloaded and made a circuit above him;
      and after a short search, discovered him with his paws firmly clasped
      round a young tree. By way of finishing him, I gave him the contents of
      my rifle behind the ear, and we then rolled him down a ravine on to the
      snow beneath, where, a heavy storm of rain, hail, and thunder coming
      on, we left him alone in his glory. Putting our best legs foremost,
      we made for our camp, amid a pelting shower of hail like bullets and
      an incessant play of lightning around us, as we pushed our way along
      the frozen torrent. About five P.M., tired and drenched, we reached
      the camp, when we discovered that our tents, though extremely handy
      for mountain work, were not intended to keep out much rain, and that
      all our rugs, and other comforts, were almost in as moist a state as
      ourselves. During the entire night it continued to hail, rain, thunder,
      and lighten; and with the exception of the exact spots we were each
      lying on, there was not a dry place in the tent to take refuge in.
       
      JUNE 26. -- After an exceedingly moist night, we made the most of a
      little sunshine by turning out all our property, and hanging it around
      us on stones and bushes to dry. After we had distinguished ourselves in
      this way, for a couple of hours, down came the rain again; and after
      stowing our half-dried goods, we assembled under a tree, and held a
      council of war as to our future movements. The rain had swelled the
      mountain torrents considerably, and the hail, lying on the old snow,
      had made it slippery as glass, so that we were obliged to give up
      the mountain pass we had agreed upon, and decided on a retreat to
      "Poshana," our present ground being fairly untenable. Sending off
      our tents and traps, and half-drowned servants, who were completely
      out of their element, we remained behind under the pines till the
      rain a little abated, and having secured the bear-skin for curing, we
      started off with our rear-guard for Poshana. The road was so slippery,
      that even with grass-shoes we could hardly keep from falling; and
      the snow we found as hard as ice, and proportionately difficult to
      cross. The consequence was, that in passing a steep incline with the
      guide, he slipped, and I followed his example, and down we both went
      like an engine and tender, the guide fishing about with his legs for
      obstacles, and I above him, endeavouring to use my pole as an anchor
      to bring us to.
       
      Luckily, we both reached TERRA FIRMA safely, after a perilous run,
      though at the same side we started from, and a long distance from our
      point of previous departure. On at length reaching the opposite side,
      we found a disconsolate coolie bemoaning himself and reckoning his
      bones, having also fallen down the snow, while a little further on we
      came upon the bhistie lamenting over a similar disaster. The latter
      functionary had also lost a valuable pot of virgin honey, which had
      only come up from Poshana the day before, and which we had not had
      time to see the inside of even, ere it was thus lost to us for ever,
      and made over as a poetical reparation to the bears of the country for
      the ruthless murder we had committed on one of their number. Found the
      hut at Poshana empty, and were glad to get into its shelter again. The
      rain seeming quite set in, we determined to discharge our shikarees,
      and after paying them three rupees each for their week's work, we
      sent them away perfectly happy, with a few copper caps and a good
      character apiece.
       
      JUNE 27. -- Left Poshana at five A.M., and made for the Peer
      Punjal pass. A sharp struggle brought us to the summit, where we
      found a polygon tower erected, apparently as a landmark and also
      a resting-place for travellers to recover themselves after their
      exertions.[5] At the Cashmere side of the pass I had expected to see
      something of the far-famed valley, but nothing met the eye but a wild
      waste of land, bounded on all sides by snow, while a few straggling
      coolies toiled up towards us with some itinerant Englishman's baggage
      like our own.
       
      This turned out to belong to a party returning to Sealkote, and
      we were rather elated by seeing among their possessions several
      enormous antlers, which promised well for sport at the other side
      of the valley. They turned out, however, to have been bought, and,
      as their owners informed us, there was no chance of meeting such game
      until October or November. About two miles down the pass we reached
      the old serai of Aliabad, and found the only habitable part of it
      in possession of a clergyman and a young Bengal artilleryman bound
      for the shooting-grounds we had just left. With much difficulty we
      obtained a few eggs, and a little milk with which we washed down the
      chupatties we had brought with us; but the coolies were so long getting
      over the path, that no signs of breakfast made their appearance until
      about two o'clock. At mid-day it came on to rain heavily, and we took
      up our quarters in a miserable den, with a flooring of damp rubbish
      and a finely carved stone window not very much in keeping with the
      rest of the establishment. Here we spent the day drearily enough,
      the prospect being confined to a green pool of water in the middle
      of the serai, around which the Pariah dogs contended with the crows
      for the dainties of offal scattered about. As soon as it was dark,
      we were glad enough to spread our waterproof sheets on the ground,
      and sleep as well as the thousands of tenants already in possession
      would allow us.
       
      JUNE 28. -- Up at sunrise, and packed off our things down the mountain
      for Heerpore, where the main body of our possessions were concentrated.
       
      Shortly after their departure it began to rain an Irish and Scotch
      combined mist, and after warming our toes and blinding our eyes over a
      wood fire for about three hours, in hopes of its clearing, we donned
      grass-shoes and, putting our best legs foremost, accomplished about
      thirteen miles of a most slippery path without a halt, except for
      the occasional purpose of adjusting our dilapidated shoes.
       
      After the first five or six miles the path entered a beautifully-wooded
      valley, and at one spot, where two torrents joined their foaming waters
      at the foot of a picturesque old ivy-grown serai, the landscape was
      almost perfection. Passing this, we entered a thickly-shaded wood,
      studded with roses and jessamine, and peopled with wood-pigeons
      and nightingales, who favoured us with a morning concert as we
      passed. Crossing a wooden bridge over the torrent, we reached a fine
      grass country, and here the presence of a herd of cows told us we were
      near our destination. At Heerpore we found Mr. Rajoo located with all
      our belongings in a little wooden sort of squatter's cabin, where we
      were glad to take shelter out of the dripping rain. It reminded one
      strongly of Captain Cuttle's habitation and a ship's cabin together,
      and made one feel inclined to go on deck occasionally. It was on
      the whole, however, very comfortable, and seemed, after our late
      indifferent quarters, to be a perfect palace. After breakfast, we
      made inquiries as to our worldly affairs, and found that all were
      thriving with the exception of the potatoes, which had been taken
      worse on the road, and were already decimated by sickness. We added
      a sheep to our stock, for which we paid three shillings, and laid
      in a welcome supply of butter. The khidmutgar and bhistie, we found,
      had retailed the history of their many sorrows to the other servants,
      and, having expatiated most fully on the horrors they had endured
      among the snows and thunderstorms of the mountains, were promising
      themselves a speedy end to all their woes among the peace and plenty
      of the promised land of Cashmere.
       
      JUNE 29. -- After some trouble in procuring coolies, we started at
      eleven in a shower of rain, and found ourselves gradually passing
      into the valley, and exchanging rocks and firs for groves of walnut;
      and moss and fern for the more civilized strawberry and the wild
      carnation. The strawberries, though small, had a delicious flavour,
      and we whiled away the time by gathering them as we passed. About
      two o'clock we reached the village of Shupayon, and here began to
      perceive a considerable change in the style of architecture from what
      we had been accustomed to; the flat mudden roof giving place to the
      sharply-pitched wooden one, thatched with straw, or coarsely TILED
      with wood.
       
      Our halting-place we found, for the first time, to possess a staircase
      and upper story. A little square habitation it was, with a verandah all
      round it, and built entirely of wood. From this, as the clouds lifted
      from the mountain-tops around, a most lovely view opened out before us.
       
      Wherever the eye rested toward the mountains, the snow-capped peaks
      raised themselves up into the clear blue sky; while at our feet lay
      the far-famed valley, reaching towards the north, to the very base
      of the mountain range, and rising gradually and by a gentle slope
      to our halting-place, and so back to the pass from which we had
      just descended.
       
      As the sun appeared to have come out again permanently, we took the
      opportunity of getting our tents and other property which had suffered
      from the wet out for a general airing.
       
      JUNE 30. -- Marched about nine miles through fertile slopes of
      rice-fields, shaded by walnuts and sycamores, and found our
      halting-place situated in a serai, shrouded in mulberry and
      cherry trees, and with a charming little rivulet running through
      it, discoursing sweet music night and day. Our habitation was a
      baraduree, or summer-house, of wood, and having an upper room with
      trellised windows, where we spent the day very pleasantly. At dinner
      we had the first instalment of the land of promise, in the shape of
      a roly-poly pudding of fresh cherries, a thing to date from in our
      hitherto puddingless circumstances.
       
      JULY 1. -- Started at daybreak for our last march into the
      capital. The first appearance of the low part of the valley was rather
      disappointing, for there was nothing striking in the view; still, the
      country was extremely fertile, and its tameness was redeemed by the
      glorious mountain range, which bounded the valley in every direction,
      with its pure unsullied fringe of snow. Our path was occasionally
      studded with the most superb sycamores and lime-trees; and as we
      approached the town we entered a long avenue of poplars, planted as
      closely together as possible, and completely hiding all the buildings
      until close upon them. Passing through the grand parade-ground, we
      found a bustling throng of about four hundred Cashmeeries, with heavy
      packs beside them, waiting for an escort to take out supplies to the
      Maharajah's army, now on active service at a place called Girgit,
      in the mountains. The said army seemed to be fighting with nobody
      knew who, about nobody knew what; but report says that his Highness,
      having a number of troops wanting arrears of pay, sends them out
      periodically to contend with the hill tribes, by way of settlement
      in full of all demands.
       
      Having engaged a boat's crew at Ramoon, we were, on arriving at the
      River Jhelum, which runs through the city, immediately inducted to the
      manners and customs of the place; and being safely deposited in a long
      flat-bottomed boat, with a mat roof and a prow about twelve feet out of
      the water, we were paddled across by our six new servants, and landed
      among a number of bungalows on the right bank, which were erected by
      the Maharajah for the reception of his English visitors. These are
      entirely of wood, of the rudest construction, and are built along
      the very edge of the river, which is here about a hundred yards broad.
       
      We were received on landing by the Baboo and Moonshee, the native
      authorities retained by the Maharajah for the convenience of his
      visitors; and learning from them that there were no bungalows vacant,
      we pitched our little camp under a shady grove of trees close by; and
      thus, in the capital of the land of poetry and promise, the far-famed
      paradise of the Hindoo, we brought our wanderings to an end for the
      present, and gave ourselves and our retainers a rest from all the
      toils and troubles of the road.
       
       
       
      A Halt in the Valley.
       
      Being fairly settled in our quarters, we were not long in putting our
      new staff of dependants into requisition; and, taking to our boat,
      sallied forth to get a general view of the city of Sirinugger.[6]
      Finding, however, a review of the army going on, we stopped at the
      parade-ground to witness the interesting ceremony. The troops we found
      drawn up in lines, forming the sides of a large square, and dressed in
      what his Highness Rumbeer Singh believes confidently to be the ENGLISH
      COSTUME. As far as one could see, however, the sole foundation for
      this belief lay in the fact of their all wearing trousers! These were
      certainly the only articles of their equipment that could in any way
      be called English in style; and they bore, after all, but a slender
      resemblance to the corresponding habiliments of the true Briton.
       
      The head-dress, generally speaking, was a turban. One regiment,
      however, had actually perpetrated a parody on the English shako --
      a feat which I had always hitherto considered absolutely impossible.
       
      The cavalry were mounted upon tattoos, or native ponies, and wore
      white trousers, with tight straps, which rendered them for the time
      being the most miserable of their race.
       
      A few of them had imitations of Lancer caps, some had boots, some
      slippers, some spurs, others none; some had wondrous straps of tape
      and cord, others wore their trousers up to their knees; but one and
      all were entirely uniform in looking completely ill at ease and out
      of their element in their borrowed would-be-English plumage. Just
      as we had finished taking a general view of the army, the Maharajah
      appeared upon the stage, dressed in a green-and-gold embroidered gown
      and turban and tight silk pantaloons, mounted on a grey caparisoned
      Arab steed. After riding round the lines with his retinue, he came up,
      and we were presented in due form; and after asking us if we had come
      from Allahabad, and expressing his opinion that it was a long way off,
      in which we entirely concurred with him, he shook hands in English
      style; and, taking his seat in a chair which was placed for him, we
      collected ourselves around, and, similarly seated, prepared to inspect
      the marching past of his highness's redoubtables. Before this began,
      however, the Maharajah's little son made his appearance, dressed in all
      respects like his papa, with miniature sword and embroidered raiment;
      and to him we were also introduced in form. During the marching past,
      I congratulated myself upon being several seats distant from his
      highness's chair, for the effect was so absurd that it was almost
      impossible to preserve that dignity and composure which the occasion
      demanded.
       
      The marching was in slow time, and the step being fully thirty-six
      inches the fat little dumpy officers nearly upset themselves in their
      efforts to keep time, and at the same time prevent their slippers
      from deserting on the line of march; while, in bringing their swords
      to the salute, they did it with a swing which was suggestive of
      their throwing away their arms altogether. Besides artillery, five
      regiments of infantry and two of cavalry marched past -- in all,
      little over 2,000 men -- colours flying and bands playing "Home,
      sweet home!" After this the irregulars began to appear; and although
      the first part of the army might have almost deserved the name, these
      put them completely in the shade. One colonel had a pair of enormous
      English gold epaulettes and a turban; another a black embroidered suit,
      with white tape straps, and slippers; and as for the men, there were
      no two of them dressed alike, while in the way of arms, each pleased
      his own particular fancy also. A long gun over the shoulder was the
      most popular weapon; but each had, in addition, a perfect armoury
      fastened in his girdle: pistols with stocks like guns, daggers and
      even blunderbusses made their appearance; and the general effect, as
      the crowd galloped independently past, dressed in their many-coloured
      turbans, and flowing apparel, was most picturesque. As soon as the
      last of the flags and banners and prancing horses had gone past, the
      Maharajah set us the example of rising, and mounting his grey steed,
      cantered off in state, surrounded by the crowd of dusky parasites,
      arrayed in gold and jewels, who formed his court.
       
      His Highness appeared to be about thirty-eight years old, and was as
      handsome a specimen of a native as I had ever seen. He wore a short,
      jet-black beard, and mustachios, turned up from the corners of his
      mouth, and reaching, in two long twists, nearly to his eyes. He
      appeared absent and thoughtful which, considering the low state of
      his exchequer, was perhaps not to be wondered at.[7] His English
      visitors spend a good deal of money every summer in his kingdom;
      and for this reason alone, he is anxious enough to cultivate their
      acquaintance, and gives naches, or native dances, and champagne
      dinners periodically to amuse them. He presents, also, an offering to
      each traveller that arrives, and we in due course received two sheep,
      two fowls, and about fourteen little earthen dishes containing rice,
      butter, spices, eggs, flour, fruit, honey, sugar, tea, &c., all of
      which were laid at the door of our tent, with great pomp and ceremony,
      by a host of attendants.
       
      After the review, we took boat again and paddled down the stream to
      look at the town, and a quainter and more picturesque-looking old
      place it would be hard to conceive. The, houses are built entirely
      of wood, of five and six stories, and overhanging the river, and
      are as close as possible to each other, except where here and there
      interspersed with trees. Communication is kept up between the banks
      by means of wooden rustic bridges, built on enormous piles of timber,
      laid in entire trees, crossing each other at equal distances. Not a
      single straight line is to be seen in any direction -- the houses being
      dilapidated and generally out of the perpendicular; and everywhere the
      river view is bounded by the snow-capped ranges of mountain, which,
      towards the north, appear to rise almost from the very water's edge.
       
      JULY 2. -- Taking the Q.M.G. as a guide, we sallied out
      immediately after breakfast to explore the land part of this Eastern
      Venice. Entering at the city gate, on the left bank of the river, near
      the Maharajah's palace, we walked past a row of trumpery pop-guns, on
      green and red carriages, and so through the most filthy and odoriferous
      bazaar I ever met with, till we reached the residence of Saifula Baba,
      the great shawl merchant of Sirinugger. Here we found a noted shawl
      fancier inspecting the stock, and were inducted to the mysteries of
      the different fabrics. Some that we saw were of beautiful workmanship,
      but dangerous to an uninitiated purchaser. They ranged from 300 to
      1,000 rupees generally, but could be ordered to an almost unlimited
      extent of price. After inspecting a quantity of Pushmeena and other
      local manufactures, Mr. Saifula Baba handed us tea and sweetmeats,
      after the fashion of his country; and we adjourned to the abode of a
      worker in papier mache, where we underwent a second edition of tea
      and sweetmeats, and inspected a number of curiosities. The chief
      and only beauty of the work was in the strangeness of the design;
      and some of the shawl patterns, reproduced on boxes, &c., were
      pretty in their way, but as manufacturers of papier mache simply,
      the Cashmeeries were a long way behind the age.
       
      On reaching home, we found that the Maharajah had sent his salaam,
      together with the information that he was going to give a nach and
      dinner, to which we were invited.
       
      JULY 3. -- After continuing our explorations of Sirinugger, we
      repaired, about seven o'clock, to the Maharajah's palace, where we
      were received by a guard of honour of sixty men and four officers.,
      the latter in gold embroidered dresses, and hung all over with
      ear-rings and finery of divers sorts and kinds.
       
      Ascending the stairs, we were met by the DEEWAN, or prime minister,
      who conducted us into an open sort of terrace over the river, where
      we found the Maharajah with the few English officers already arrived
      seated on either side of him, and the nach-girls, about twenty in
      number, squatted in a semicircle opposite them. Standing behind his
      Highness were colonels of regiments and native dignitaries of all
      sorts, dressed in cloth of gold and jewels, and in every variety
      and hue of turban and appointments. A number of these were Sikhs;
      and magnificent-looking men they were, with their flowing dress and
      fiercely-twisted whiskers and mustachios. The nach-girls, too --
      a motley group -- were attired in all the hues of the rainbow, and
      with the white-robed musicians behind them, awaited in patience the
      signal to commence. In singular contrast to this glittering throng,
      which formed the court, were the guests whom the Maharajah, on this
      occasion, delighted to honour. The British officer appeared generally
      in the national but uncourtly costume of a shooting jacket! and
      though some few had donned their uniform, and one rejoiced in the
      traditional swallow-tail of unmistakeable civilization, neither the
      one nor the other contrasted favourably in point of grace with the
      Cashmerian rank and fashion.
       
      After shaking hands with his Highness, who prides himself upon his
      English way of accomplishing that ceremony, and does it by slipping
      into one's hand what might be taken for a dying flat fish, we took
      our seats, and the dancing began shortly afterwards. Though on a
      more magnificent scale than anything I had seen of the kind before,
      the programme was flat and insipid enough. The ladies came out two and
      two, and went through a monotonous die-away movement, acting, dancing,
      and singing all at the same time, and showing off their red-stained
      palms and the soles of their feet to the best advantage. Some of the
      women were very pretty, but very properly they modified their charms
      by dressing in the most unbecoming manner possible. Their head-dress
      was a little cloth of gold and silver cap hung all round with pendent
      ornaments, and these were becoming enough, but the remainder of the
      dress was much more trying. A short body of shot silk was separated
      by a natural border from a gauze skirt, which hung down perfectly
      straight and innocent of fulness, and allowed a pair of white pyjamas
      to appear beneath. These were fastened tightly round the ancles,
      which were encircled by little bunches of the tinkling bells, which
      the ladies make such use of in the dance. Round the shoulders comes
      a filmy scarf of various colours, which also plays a prominent part
      in all their movements, and answers in its way to the fan of more
      accomplished Western belles.
       
      After each couple had gone through the whole of their performances,
      they used to squat themselves down suddenly in the most ungraceful
      style imaginable, and were then relieved by another pair of artistes
      from the group.
       
      One lady, in addition to the dance, favoured us with "the Marseillaise"
      with the French words, being occasionally prompted by the head
      of the orchestra, who nearly worked himself into a frenzy while
      accompanying the dancers with both vocal and instrumental music at
      the same time. The Maharajah himself was plainly dressed in white
      robes, with a pair of pale-green striped silk pantaloons fitting his
      legs like stockings from the knee down, and terminating in a pair of
      English socks, of which he seemed immensely proud. His turban was of
      the palest shade of green, and (in strong contrast to the rest of his
      court) without any ornament whatever. The little heir to the throne --
      a nice little blackamoor of about eight years of age -- was, like his
      father, perched upon a chair, and arrayed in a green and gold turban,
      pants, and socks, with the addition of a velvet gold-embroidered coat,
      while round his neck were three or four valuable necklaces, one of
      pear-shaped emeralds of great size and beauty. After a few dances the
      doors of the banqueting-room were thrown open, and his Highness led
      the way into dinner with the commissioner. On entering, we found a
      capital dinner laid out English fashion, and with a formidable army
      of black bottles ranged along the table. The Maharajah, however, had
      disappeared, and we were left to feed without a host. The grandees,
      meanwhile, remained outside, and still enjoyed the dances, ranging
      themselves upon their haunches in front of the rows of chairs which
      not one among them would have dared to trust himself in for either
      love or money. Considering that our entertainer was a Hindoo, and
      that his dinner-giving appliances were limited, each person having
      to bring his own knife, fork, spoon, and chair, we fared very well,
      and after having drunk his health, again assembled in the court,
      where we found Rumbeer Singh still occupied with the wearisome nach,
      and reattired in a gorgeous dress of green velvet and gold. After a
      short stay he got up, and we all followed his example, glad enough
      to bring the entertainment to an end, and betake ourselves to our
      boats. At the stairs there was a desperate encounter with innumerable
      boatmen, each boat having six, eight, or ten sailors, and all being
      equally anxious to uphold the credit of their craft by being the
      first to land their masters safe, at home. We were fortunate enough to
      reach our own at once, and, with a shouting crew, away we dashed up
      the river, leaving the others struggling, fighting, and flourishing
      their paddles in the air, in a way which was more suggestive of an
      insurrection scene in Masaniello than the departure of guests from
      a peaceable gentleman's own hall door on the night of an evening party.
       
      On the stairs there was an extraordinary assemblage of slippers, which
      seemed to hold the same relative position that hats and cloaks do in
      more enlightened communities -- that is, the good ones were taken by
      the owners of the bad, and the proprietors of the bad ones were fain
      to make the best of the exchange. Next morning our khidmutgar came up
      with a most doleful countenance and presented to our notice a pair of
      certainly most ill-favoured slippers, which a fellow true-believer had
      INADVERTENTLY substituted for a pair of later date. The lost ones had,
      in fact, only recently been received from the boot-maker; and the
      blow was difficult to bear with resignation, even by the saintliest
      follower of Islam -- a reputation which our retainer came short of
      by a very long way indeed.
       
      JULY 4. -- Having an accumulation of letters to answer, we devoted the
      day to writing -- merely enjoying a little OTIUM CUM DIG. -- in the
      evening, reclining in our boat while serenaded by the crew of boatmen.
       
      JULY 5. -- Walked up, before daybreak, to the Tukht e Suleeman,
      or Solomon's throne, "the mountainous Portal," which Moore speaks
      of in LALLA ROOKH, and which forms the most striking landmark in
      the valley.[8]
       
      From the summit there was a curious view of the multitudinous wooden
      houses and the sinuous windings of the river, which could alone be
      obtained from such a bird's-eye point of inspection. An old temple
      at the top was in the hands of the Hindoo faction, being dedicated
      to the goddess Mahadewee, and in charge of it I found two of the
      dirtiest fukeers, or religious mendicants, I ever had the pleasure
      of meeting. One was lying asleep, with his feet in a heap of dust and
      ashes, and the other was listlessly sitting, without moving a muscle,
      warming himself in the morning sun. Both were almost naked, and had
      their bodies and faces smeared with ashes and their hair long and
      matted. They appeared to have arrived at a state of almost entire
      abstraction, and neither of them even raised his eyes or seemed to
      be in the slightest degree aware of my presence, although I took a
      sketch of one of them, and stared at both, very much as I would have
      done at some new arrival of animals in the Zoological Gardens.
       
      In the evening we went again to Saifula Baba's and visited the
      workrooms, where we were much astonished by the quickness with which
      the people worked the intricate shawl patterns with a simple needle,
      and no copy to guide them.
       
      The first stages of the work are not very promising, but the finished
      result, when pressed and rolled and duly exhibited by that true
      believer Saifula Baba, in his snowy gown and turban, was certainly
      in every way worthy of its reputation.
       
      Returning home, we visited a garden where any of the English visitors
      who die in the valley are buried -- the Maharajah presenting a
      Cashmere shawl, in some instances, to wrap the body in. There were
      about eight or ten monuments built of plaster, with small square
      slabs for inscriptions. One of these was turned topsy-turvey, which
      was not to be wondered at, for a native almost always holds English
      characters upside-down when either trying to decipher them himself
      or when holding them to be read by others.
       
      JULY 6. -- In the early morning I ascended to the throne of Solomon,
      in order to get a sketch of the Fort of Hurree Purbut, and in the
      afternoon we repaired to the lake behind the town, where there was a
      grand Mela or fair, on the water, to which the Maharajah and all his
      court went in state. The lake is beautifully situated at the foot of
      the mountains, and was covered so densely in many parts with weed and
      water-plants that it bore quite the appearance of a floating garden;
      and as the innumerable boats paddled about, with their bright and
      sunny cargoes, talking and laughing and enjoying themselves to their
      heart's content, the scene began to identify itself in some measure
      with Moore's description of the "Sunny lake of cool Cashmere," and
      its "Plane-tree isle reflected clear," although the poet's eyes had
      never rested on either lake or isle. Putting poetry on one side,
      however, for the present, we made our way to the extremity of the
      lake, in order to pay a visit to his Highness's gaol, where we were
      received by a very civil gaoler, equipped with a massive sword and
      dilapidated shield. We found 110 prisoners in the place, employed
      generally in converting dhan into chawul, or, in other words,
      clearing the rice-crop. There was also a mill for mustard oil, and
      the most primitive machine for boring fire-arms ever invented, both
      worked by water-power. The prison dress was uniform in the extreme:
      it consisted simply of a suit of heavy leg-irons and nothing more!
       
      After seeing the fair, we paddled across through a perfect water-meadow
      to the Shalimar gardens, where we found the Rajah and his suite
      just taking their departure. The vista on entering the gardens was
      extremely pretty: four waterfalls appear at the same moment, sending
      a clear sheet of crystal water over a broad stone slab, and gradually
      receding from sight in the wooded distance. A broad canal runs right
      through the gardens, bridged at intervals by summer-houses and crossed
      by carved and quaintly-fashioned stepping stones. At the extremity
      there is a magnificent baradurree of black marble, which looks as if
      it had been many centuries in existence, and had originally figured in
      some very different situation. The pillars were entire to a length of
      seven feet, and were highly polished from the people leaning against
      them. Around this, in reservoirs of water, were about two hundred
      fountains, all spouting away together, and on one side a sheet of
      the most perfectly still water I ever saw. It appeared exactly like
      a large looking-glass, and it was impossible to discern where the
      artificial bank which inclosed it either began or terminated.
       
      In these gardens it was that Selim, or Jehangeer the son of Akbar,
      used to spend so many of his days with the far-famed Noor Jehan in the
      beginning of the seventeenth century, and here was the scene of their
      reconciliation, as related by Feramorz to Lalla Rookh ere he revealed
      himself to her as her future lord, the king of Bucharia. From these
      founts and streams it was that the fair Persian sought to entice her
      lord, with "Fly to the desert, fly with me!"
       
       
      "When breathing, as she did, a tone
      To earthly lutes and lips unknown;
      With every chord fresh from the touch
      Of Music's spirit, -- 'twas too much!"
       
       
      "The light of the universe" overcomes even the "conqueror of the
      world." Thinking it, after all, wiser to kiss and be friends than be
      sulky, he surrenders at discretion: --
       
       
       
      "And, happier now for all their sighs,
      As on his arm her head reposes,
      She whispers him with laughing eyes,
      'Remember, love, the Feast of Roses!' "
       
       
      Leaving the favourite haunts of the "magnificent son of Akbar," we
      crossed the lake again to see the Maharajah inspect a party of about
      2,000 soldiers, who were departing for the war at Girgit. Nothing
      in the way of supplies being procurable near the scene of action,
      the greater part of the review was taken up by the marching past of a
      horde of Cashmeree and mountain porters, heavily laden with the sinews
      of war. According to report, the pay of the army here is about five
      shillings per mensem, with a ration of two pounds of rice per diem.
       
      In the evening, the number of boats congregated on the lake
      was marvellous. All were perfectly crammed with Cashmerian
      pleasure-seekers; but the turbaned faithful, in spite of the pressure,
      in no way lost their dignity, but with pipes and coffee enjoyed
      themselves in apparently entire unconsciousness of there being a soul
      on the lake beside themselves. The most wonderful sight, however,
      was the immense crowd of many-coloured turbans congregated on shore,
      witnessing the departure of the Cashmerian Guards; and as they thronged
      the green slopes in thousands, they gave one quite the idea of a mass
      of very violent-coloured flowers blooming together in a garden. On
      our way home we had great jostling, and even fighting, in order to
      maintain our position among the crowds of boats, the result of which
      was that our crew managed to break two paddles in upholding the dignity
      and respectability of their masters. The Maharajah himself, however,
      gave us the go-by in great style, in a long quaint boat, propelled by
      thirty-six boatmen, and built with a broad seat towards the bows, in
      shape like the overgrown body of a gig in indifferent circumstances,
      on which his Highness reclined. By his side was the little prince,
      in glorious apparel, while half a dozen of his court, arrayed in
      spotless white, appeared like so many snow-drifts lying at his feet.
       
      JULY 7. -- Made our arrangements to-day for a trip by water to the
      Wuler Lake, and spent the afternoon in inspecting the jeweller's and
      other shops in the city. The native workmen appear to engrave cleverly
      both on stone and metal, and some of their performances would bear
      comparison with any European workmanship of a similar kind. They
      also work in filagree silver, charging about sixpence in every two
      shillings' worth of silver for their labour. About nine P.M. we took to
      our boats; F. and I occupying one together, in which we stowed bedding,
      dressing-things, &c. while the cooking apparatus and servants occupied
      the other. Passed the night very comfortably, and found the situation
      most conducive to sleep, as we glided gently along with the stream.
       
      JULY 8. -- Awoke to find an innumerable swarm of mosquitoes buzzing
      about our habitation, and apparently endeavouring to carry it
      off bodily. Letting down, however, the muslin curtains, which the
      foreknowledge of the faithful Q.M.G. had provided us with, we succeeded
      in puzzling the enemy for the time being. About eight o'clock, the
      fleet came to an anchor at a luxuriant little island at the entrance
      of the great lake; to all appearance, however, it might have been
      situated in a meadow, for we had to force our way to it through a
      perfect plain of green water-plants, whose slimy verdure covered the
      face of the lake for miles around. It was wooded by mulberry trees,
      very prettily entwined with wild vines, and in the midst were the
      remains of an old Musjid, in which we discovered a slab of black
      marble, covered with a beautifully carved inscription in Arabic, and
      appearing as if it had not always held the ignoble position which it
      now occupied. Scattered about the island, also, were many scraps of
      columns and carved stones, which gave evidence of having belonged
      to some ancient temple or palace. While thus surveying our island,
      we were pestered to death by swarms of prodigious mosquitoes, for
      which the Wuler Lake is justly celebrated, and during breakfast the
      eating was quite as much on their side as ours; so that we were glad
      to weigh anchor, and with our curtains tightly tucked in around us,
      we floated away, in lazy enjoyment of climate and scenery, towards the
      centre of the lake. As we cleared the margin of the water-plants, we
      found ourselves on a glassy surface, extending away towards the west
      as far as the eye could see, and bordered on all sides by gorgeous
      mountains and ranges of snow. Around the edges of the lake a sunny
      mirage was playing tricks with the cattle and the objects on the banks,
      and as we glided lazily on with the stream, and the splashing paddles,
      and even the foiled mosquitoes, made music about us, we began to
      enter more into the spirit of our situation, and to appreciate the
      peculiar beauties of the "sunny lake of cool Cashmere," with the
      DOLCE FAR NIENTE existence which of right belongs to it. About one
      o'clock we reached Sompoor, at the Baramoula extremity of the lake,
      and as it came on to blow a little, it was not too soon: our boats
      were totally unadapted for anything rougher than a mill-pond, and in
      the ripple excited by the small puffs of wind, I had the misfortune
      to ship what was, under the circumstances, a heavy sea, and so
      sacrificed the prospects of a dry lodging for the night. Sompoor we
      found a picturesque but dirty village, with promise of good fishing,
      in the river below it. We unfortunately had no tackle, but the boatmen
      succeeded in catching five or six good fish with a hook baited with a
      mulberry only : a very favourite article of consumption, apparently,
      among the Cashmerian little fishes.
       
      Dropping down the river, we dined on the bank among the mulberry trees,
      and I afterwards essayed to take a sketch of the village; such a firm
      and determined body of mosquitoes, however, immediately fell upon
      me, that, after a short but unsuccessful combat, I was fairly put to
      flight, and Sompoor remained undrawn. We passed the night above the
      town, ready for an early start in the morning.
       
      JULY 9. -- Left our moorings before sunrise, and halted about eight
      A.M. at a little island stacked with elephant-grass, where, after
      as good a swim as the tangled weeds would permit, we breakfasted
      pleasantly under the trees.
       
      From this point we adopted a new mode of progression, the boatmen
      towing us from the bank; and the motion was a great improvement on
      the paddling system, except that it had a tendency to set one to
      sleep altogether. Reached Sirinugger, and our camp again, at four P.M.
       
      JULY 10. -- Paid Saifula Baba, the shawl merchant, a visit to-day,
      in order to get a bill of exchange on Umritsur cashed. Found
      him just going out to Mosque, in his snow-white robe and turban,
      cleanly-shaved pate, and golden slippers. Not having any money,
      he promised us a hundred rupees of the Maharajah's coinage to go on
      with. These nominal rupees are each value 10 annas, or 1S. 3D., the
      most chipped and mutilated objects imaginable. On one face of the coin
      are the letters I.H.S. stamped, a strange enough device for a heathen
      or any other mint to have adopted. While floating about the Eastern
      Venice, we discovered a number of finely-cut old blocks of stone in
      the built-up wall which bounded the river; and on inspecting the place,
      we came upon an ancient Mussulman cemetery and ruined Musjid, in which
      there were some very antique-looking carvings, which apparently had
      commenced life elsewhere than on Mussulman ground. The graveyard,
      however, was itself extremely old, although many of the turbaned and
      lettered tombstones of the faithful were in perfect preservation. All
      began with the "La Ulah ila Ullah," or "B'ism Ullah,"[9] with which
      everything connected with a Mussulman does commence, either in life
      or death.
       
      All through the city one can trace the remains of some much more
      ancient structure in the huge blocks of carved stone which are
      scattered about among their more plebeian brethren, and serve to form
      with them, in humble forgetfulness of past grandeur, the foundations
      of the lofty rattletrap but picturesque wooden structures which line
      both sides of the river and form the city of Cashmere in the year of
      grace 1860.
       
      Some of these houses, as one looks into the narrow lanes leading to
      the river and sees them in profile, are apparently in the last stage
      of dissolution, leaning out of the perpendicular and overtopping their
      lower stories and foundations in a way that would put even the leaning
      tower of Pisa to shame. One six-storied house, of long experience
      in this crooked world, had made the most wonderful efforts to redeem
      his character and to recover his equilibrium by leaning the contrary
      way aloft from what he did below. Poor fellow! he had been but badly
      conducted in his youth, and was nobly endeavouring to correct his
      ways in a mossy and dilapidated old age. The tracery of much of the
      wood-work carvings, and particularly of the windows, varies greatly,
      and in some places is so minute that it requires close inspection to
      find out the design. Of these the Zenana windows of the Maharajah's
      palace are about the finest specimens; but as there is no way of
      approaching them closely, it is impossible to make out their details.
       
      JULY 11. -- Started this evening by water for Islamabad, the ancient
      capital of Cashmere.
       
      We made a slight change in our arrangements, rather for the better,
      by hiring a large boat for ourselves and handing our own over to the
      servants and culinary department in general.
       
      JULY 12. -- Found ourselves not very far on our road on awakening
      this morning, the night having been very dark, the current strong
      against us, and the sailors lazy.
       
      Another cause of delay also, if these were insufficient, was, that
      the proprietor of the boat dropped his turban overboard, with two
      rupees in the folds of it, and the old lady his spouse had stopped
      the fleet for at least an hour to cry over the misfortune. Before
      breakfast we had a swim, and found ourselves only just able to make way
      against the stream. Breakfasted on the river bank, under the trees,
      and surrounded by rocky snow-capped mountains. Reading, scribbling,
      and eating apricots brought us to about an hour before sunset, when
      F. and I landed and went ahead to pick out a spot for a dining-room
      for ourselves. In the search, we passed through orchards and gardens
      innumerable, and finally decided upon a grove of magnificent sycamores
      on the river bank, where we laid out our table just as the sun went
      down. Within view was a picturesque old wooden bridge, on the mossy
      tree-formed piles of which the bushes were growing, as if quite at
      home, and hanging gracefully over the flowing river.
       
      JULY 13. -- Found ourselves at sunrise at the end of our boat journey,
      bathed in the river, and started for Islamabad, about half a kos off.
       
      On the bank we found three other travellers encamped, and leaving them
      fast asleep, we pushed ahead and took possession of the baraduree. This
      we found a charming little place in a garden, full of ponds of sacred
      fish, with old carved stones scattered about, belonging to the Hindoo
      mythology. Through one corner of an upper tank a stream of crystal
      water flowed in from the mountain which rose perpendicularly behind
      it -- the water welling up from below in a constant and abundant
      stream. Round this corner were some most grotesque stones; and here
      the sacred fish were assembled in such shoals as to jostle each other
      almost out of the water; but whether they were attracted by the fresh
      supply of water or the sacred images covered as they were with votive
      offerings of milk and rice, flowers, &c., the fish or the Brahmins
      alone can tell.
       
      Tradition states that an infidel Christian officer once killed three of
      these fish, and having eaten one of them, died shortly after. Putting
      their sanctity out of the question, however, the little creatures
      are so tame and so numerous that few people would be inclined either
      to kill or to eat them. While feeding them with bread, I could have
      caught any number with my hand; and holding a piece of tough crust
      under water, it was amusing to feel them tugging and hauling at it,
      making occasional snaps at one's fingers in their efforts. They were
      generally about half a pound in weight.
       
      Our baraduree was built of wood, in the usual style, with latticed
      windows of various designs, and having one room overhanging the
      stream which ran through the centre of the house from the sacred
      tanks. Directly below the place we occupied was a little waterfall,
      which conversed pleasantly day and night; and by taking-up a loose
      plank in the floor we could see as well as hear it. Learning that
      there were some ruins in the neighbourhood, supposed to have existed
      from before the birth of our Saviour, we started in the afternoon for
      a place called Bowun, or more popularly Mutton, about two and a half
      kos off.
       
      The sun to-day we found very hot in this same valley of coolness,
      its rays coming down on the backs of our heads in a very searching
      and inquisitive manner. Along the entire path there were running
      streams in every direction: and what with these and the magnificent
      sycamores and walnut-trees which shaded us as we walked, our opinions
      of the beauty of the country got a considerable rise. The path from
      the Peer Punjal Pass by which we entered appears to be the worst
      point of view from which to see the valley. From either the Peshawur
      or Murree roads the effect is much finer; and from the north-east,
      from which direction it is perhaps seldomer seen than any other, it
      looks greener and more beautiful than from either of the other points.
       
      At Mutton we found our three lazy friends of the morning, encamped
      under the trees reading green railway-novels, and evidently very much
      puzzled how to kill time. Beyond a tank teeming with sacred fishes,
      there appeared nothing whatever to be seen here. Taking warning
      from this, we thought it not worth while proceeding to Bamazoo,
      where we were told there were caves; but, treating the fishes to a
      small coin's worth of Indian maize, we retraced our steps and diverged
      about a kos off the Islamabad road to Pandau. Here we were rewarded by
      coming suddenly upon a magnificent old Cyclopeian ruin of grey stone,
      bearing, from a little distance, the appearance rather of an ancient
      Christian Church -- such as may be seen occasionally in Ireland --
      than of a heathen place of worship. On entering, we found a number of
      ancient carvings on the massive stone walls, but they were much worn,
      and the designs to us were unintelligible. Some of them were like
      the Hindoo divinities, while others were more like Christian devices,
      such as cherubims, &c. Altogether, it puzzled us completely as to its
      origin; but there was no doubt whatever as to its having existed from
      an extremely ancient date; and from its general style, as well as the
      absence of any similitude to any other place of heathen worship we have
      met, we set it down in our own minds as most probably a temple to the
      Sun.[10] Most of the figures, as far as their worn state would allow
      one to judge, appeared to be female; and there was an entire absence
      of any symbol at all resembling a cross. Many of the huge pillars had
      been eaten away as if they were of wood, by the combined effects of
      wind and weather; but hands had also been at work, as pieces of the
      decorations and figures appeared scattered about in every direction.
       
      Passing through the town of Islamabad on our return, we went into some
      of the houses to see the people at work at the loom-made shawls. Very
      hard-working and intricate business it seemed to be, and very hard
      and MANCHESTERY the production looked to my eye, far inferior to the
      hand-made, shawl, though not generally considered so.
       
      I tried to negotiate a shawl with the overseer, but he assured me
      that the pieces were all made separately, and were sent in to the
      merchant at Sirinugger to be put together, and that he in fact had
      nothing whatever to do with the sale of them.
       
      In the evening we dined at a fashionably late hour, and were lulled
      to sleep by the simple music of our domesticated waterfall.
       
      JULY 14. -- Started at daybreak for Atchabull, three and a half kos
      off towards the north-east. The baraduree we found situated in the
      middle of a large reservoir, in a beautiful but half-ruined garden;
      and here, the commissariat being unusually late in arriving, we
      took the edge off our appetites with a quantity of small apricots,
      red plums, cherries, &c.
       
      While exploring the gardens, we found, among other remains of grandeur,
      a Humaam, or hot-bath room, which was in very good preservation, and
      had probably in its day been honoured by the fair presence of Noor
      Jehan, with whom Atchabull was a favourite resort, and who has been,
      at one time or another, over all these gardens, during her lord's
      visit to the valley.
       
      About thirty yards from the house, at the base of an almost
      perpendicular hill, were the great sources of interest which the place
      possesses -- viz., a number of springs of ice-cold water, bubbling up
      to a height of two or three feet above the surrounding water level,
      and forming three separate rivers: one in the centre which expanded
      round our house, and one on either side. Around were fruit-trees of
      all sorts and kinds, and from every quarter came the gurgling sound
      of rushing water mingled with the singing of innumerable birds. Here
      sweetly indeed do the "founts of the valley fall;" and their number
      and beauty, as well as the purity of the clear and crystal streams
      which they pour over the length and breadth of the land, it is which
      forms one of its chief and pleasantest features, and has, no doubt,
      mainly contributed to its reputation as a terrestrial paradise. To
      the abundance of these streams the inhabitants are indebted for the
      crops of waving rice which spread their delicately-green carpetting
      over the entire valley; the purity of the waters give to the silks
      the brightness of their dyes and to their shawls their fame; and from
      its virtues also the love-lighted eyes are supposed to derive their
      far-famed lustre. No wonder, therefore, that to the Hindoo at least,
      "Cashmere is all holy land." From his sun-burnt plains and his home
      by the muddy banks of his sacred Ganges, he can form but a small
      conception of these cooling streams and shady pleasures. Should he
      happen to read the glowing descriptions of Lalla Rookh, and be perhaps
      led to reflect that --
       
       
       
      "If woman can make the worst wilderness dear,
      What a heaven she must make of Cashmere!"
       
       
      He no doubt ejaculates "Wa, wa!" in admiration of the poetry of
      the West, and thinks complacently of the partner of his joys as all
      his fancy painted her. His highest flights of imagination, however,
      probably fail to transplant him very far beyond the actual wilderness
      which bounds his mortal vision, while Pudmawutee and Oonmadinee,
      as here depicted by his own artistic skill, present, in all their
      loveliness of form and feature, his best conceptions of ideal worth
      and beauty. No wonder, therefore, that the reality of
       
       
      "Those roses, the brightest that earth ever gave,
      Those grottoes and gardens and fountains so clear!"
       
       
      and above all of --
       
       
      "Those love-lighted eyes that hang over their wave,"[11]
       
       
      should shed its influence largely on his imagination, and that,
      in contrast to his own dry and dusty native plains, Cashmere should
      well be called the Hindoo's Paradise.
       
      JULY 15. -- Marched at dawn for Vernagh, a distance of eight kos,
      rather over a Sabbath-day's journey. Here we had to wait a considerable
      time for our breakfast, the cook being an indifferent pedestrian and
      the day a very hot one. The baradurree was curiously built, close to
      an octagon tank, the water from which ran at a great pace through an
      arch in the middle of the house.[12] The tank was supplied with 
      water in great volume, but
      from no apparent source, and was filled with fine fish, all sacred,
      and as fat as butter, from the plentiful support they receive from the
      devout among the Hindoos, not to mention the unbelieving travellers,
      who also supply them for amusement. The tank itself, the natives
      informed us, was bottomless, and it really appeared to be so; for
      from the windows of the baradurree, some fifty feet over the water,
      we could see the sides stretching back as they descended, and losing
      themselves in the clear water, which looked, from the intensity of
      its blue, both deep and treacherous to an unlimited extent. The water,
      too, was so intensely, icily cold, that an attempt to swim across it
      would have been a dangerous undertaking, and neither F. nor I could
      summon courage to jump in. We, however, bathed in the stream which
      ran out of the inexhaustible reservoir, and its effect we found very
      similar to that of hot water, so that a little of it went a very Iong
      way with us. As for the fish, they swarmed in such numbers that they
      jostled each other fairly out of the water in a dense living mass,
      while striving for grains of rice and bread.
       
      This also was a favourite resort of Jehangeer and Noor Jehan; and I
      found an inscription in the Persian character which, in a sentence
      according to Eastern custom, fixed the date of the erection of the
      building attached to the tank as A.H. 1029, or, about A.D. 1612. The
      inscription runs thus: --
       
       
      "The king of seven climes, the spreader of justice, Abdool, Muzuffer,
      Noor-ul-deen[13] Jehangeer Badshah, son of Akbar, conqueror of kings,
      on the day of the 11th year of his reign paid a visit to this fountain
      of favour, and by his order this building has been completed. By
      means of Jehangeer Shah, son of Akbar Shah, this building has raised
      its head to the heavens."
       
      "The 'Inventor of Wisdom' has fixed its date in this line, viz : --
      'Aqsirabad o Chushma Wurnak.' "
       
       
      The fountain or reservoir, and the canal, &c. seem to have been the
      work of Shah Jehan, Noor Jehan's son, or were probably remodelled in
      his reign. The inscription referring to them runs also in the Persian
      character on a slab of copper:
       
       
      "Hyan, by order of Shah Jahan, King, thanks be to God, built this
      fountain and canal. From these have the country of Cashmere become
      renowned, and the fountains aye as the fountains of Paradise."
       
      "The poet Survashi Ghaib has written the date in this sentence, viz: --
      'From the waters of Paradise have these fountains flowed.' "
       
       
      JULY 16. -- On the road again at daybreak, with the intention of
      going to a place called Kukunath, where there were more springs, and
      which, from information obtained from the sepoy who accompanied us,
      was on our road to Islamabad. However, like most information relative
      to either direction or to distance in this country, it turned out to
      be wrong, and we accordingly altered our course and made for our old
      quarters. Breakfasted under a huge walnut-tree, at a village about six
      kos off, and reached Islamabad about one P.M., after a very hot tramp
      of ten kos, through groves of sycamore and walnuts, and hundreds and
      hundreds of acres of rice-fields, immersed in water, and tenanted by
      whole armies of croaking frogs. The people were principally employed
      in weeding their rice-crops, standing up to their knees in mud and
      water, and grubbing about, with their heads in a position admirably
      adapted to give anybody but a native, apoplexy in such a hot sun.
       
      JULY 17. -- In the middle of the night we were awoke by a tremendous
      uproar in our wooden habitation, as if some one was crashing about the
      boards and panels with a big stick; immediately afterwards something
      jumped upon my bed, and with a whisk and a rush, clattered through the
      room to F.'s side, over the table, and back again to my quarter. Half
      asleep and half awake, I hit out energetically, without encountering
      anything of our uninvited guest; and the faithful Rajoo coming in
      with a light, I found F. brandishing a stick valiantly in the air,
      everything knocked about the room; an earthenware vessel of milk spilt
      upon the floor, a tumbler broken, and a plate of biscuits on the table
      with marks of teeth in them. This latter discovery was quite a relief
      to my mind, for the visitation had a most diabolic savour about it,
      and we were just beginning to fancy that there was a slight smell of
      sulphur. However, the milk and the biscuits being such innocent food,
      we were enabled to fancy that the intruder might have been no worse
      than a wild cat, which had frightened itself by breaking, our tumbler,
      and had eventually jumped through the window and made its escape. This
      interpretation, however satisfactory to ourselves, was apparently
      not so to the Q.M.G., and to his dying day he will probably remain
      rather doubtful of the kind of company we kept that night.
       
      At sunrise I paid another visit to the ruins of Pandau, or Martund,
      and sketched it from the north-east; a view which took in the only
      columns of any perfection that remained standing.
       
      Islamabad being, as its name implies, the "abode of Mahomedanism,"
      I had set the kotwal to work to procure me a good copy of the Koran.
       
      On returning, however, I found that he had collected together a
      bundle of the common editions printed in the Arabic alone, without
      interlineations. He assured me, however, that they were rare and
      valuable specimens; and I was amused by the old gentleman reading out
      a passage in a sonorous voice, following each word with his finger,
      and astonishing the bystanders by the display of his erudition; but
      at the same time holding the precious volume upside down, and thus
      failing in impressing at least one of his audience. In the evening
      we started again for Sirinugger.
       
      JULY 18. -- Found ourselves, according to sailing directions, at
      anchor this morning, or in other words, tied to an upright stick,
      at Wentipore, on the left bank of the river, where there were some
      old ruins to be seen.
       
      The architecture we found very similar to the Pandau temple. One
      column, however, was left standing, which was more perfect than any
      we had seen before.
       
      The ruins consisted of a large quadrangle, with cloisters all round,
      and the remains of a temple in the centre; both these were completely
      decayed, but the enormous stones piled together in grand confusion
      showed that the buildings had been of considerable extent.[14] The
      corner stones here alone pointed out the position of the cloisters,
      which at Pandau had been in very fair preservation.
       
      About fifty yards from the entrance there were three columns of
      different form, sunk in the ground, their capitals just reaching a
      little below the surface, and connected by trefoil arches, all in
      pretty good preservation.
       
      A few hundred yards down the river we found another large ruin, but
      in a more dilapidated state than either of the others. In both, the
      designs carved in the huge stones were something similar in pattern
      -- viz. a female figure, with what appeared to be a long strip of
      drapery passing round either arm and descending to the ancles. It
      was impossible to decipher the exact device, but the breast and head,
      in most instances, were plainly distinguishable.
       
      About three kos from Sirinugger, we stopped at another very extensive
      site of Cyclopeian ruins, at a place called Pandreton. Here we found
      the most perfect building of any we had met; and for a considerable
      distance around were traces of what must have been, in ages past,
      a city of some extent.
       
      Among other interesting remains, there was the base of a colossal
      figure standing in the midst of a field of cut corn. Only from the
      knees down remained, but this block alone was over seven feet high;
      the toes were mutilated a good deal, but the legs were in wonderful
      preservation. There was also, about half a, mile off, an enormous
      base of a column, resting on its side, at the summit of a little
      eminence, where a, considerable amount of mechanical power must have
      been required to place it. Its diameter was about six feet; and at
      some distance we found the remainder of the column, split into three
      pieces. It was about twelve feet long, the lower part polygon, the
      upper round, and the top a cone similar in form to the stones dedicated
      to Mahadeo in the temples of the Hindoos. The building which alone
      remained in at all a perfect state was situated in a sort of pond or
      tank of slimy green, and was quite inaccessible without a boat.[15]
      Sending on the cooking apparatus and servants, I remained with the
      smaller boat; and with a rug and a supply of biscuits, set to work to
      sketch the ruins. The operation, however, was not performed without
      very great difficulty. Innumerable mosquitoes made the spot their
      home, and at critical moments they persisted in settling themselves
      in the most uncomfortable positions. The ants, too, took a fancy to
      my paint-box, and even endeavoured to carry off some of the colours;
      so that between the two I was soon fairly put to flight, and obliged
      to evacuate the territory.
       
      On consulting my Hindoo authority, Rajoo, on the subject of Cyclopeian
      ruins, he tells me that they were built, not by man but by "the gods,"
      in the Sut Jug, or golden age, an epoch which existed no less than
      2,165,000 years ago, or thereabouts!
       
      This view of the matter increases the interest of the ruins immensely,
      besides being very complimentary to the style of building practised by
      "the gods" in that age.
       
      The Hindoo ages are four, and we are believed to be at present
      in the last of the four, of which 5,000 years have been already
      accomplished. The names and duration are as follows, viz : -- Sut Jug,
      1,728,000 years; Treth Jug, 1,296,000 years; Duapur Jug, 864,000 years;
      and Kul Jug. 432,000 years. This makes the present age of the world
      to be about 3,893,000 years!
       
      About five P. M. I reached Sirinugger, and found the advanced guard in
      possession of one of the bungalows. Spent the night in a succession
      of skirmishes with innumerable fleas, who appeared to have been out
      of society for a considerable time previous to our arrival. Up to
      this moment I fancied that I knew something of the natural history
      of the race, having studied them and fought with them and slept with
      them in their happiest hunting grounds. Greek fleas, Albanian fleas,
      Tartar fleas, Russian fleas, I had combated on their own soil, but
      never before was I put to such utter confusion. All night long the
      enemy poured in upon me, and several times during the action was I
      forced to leave the field and recruit my shattered forces outside
      in the moonlight. As day dawned, however, I fell upon the foe at a
      certain advantage, and managed at last to get a few hours of sleep.
       
      JULY 19. -- Made an expedition to the small lake to see a building
      which we were informed was built by the Puree, or fairies -- the Peri
      of poetical licence.
       
      After a sharp struggle up a steep hill, under a hot sun, we reached
      the building; but, to all appearance, the fairies had less to do
      with the edifice than a race of very indifferent engineers. It was
      evidently the remains of a hill fort, built of stones and mortar,
      and with nothing wonderful in its construction whatever. It was
      tenanted by buffaloes and a few natives; and having seen specimens
      of both before, we took our departure again rather in a bad humour
      with both the fairies and their partisans.
       
      In the plain below we found the remains of Cyclopeian ruins in an
      enormous block of stone, part of a column.
       
      JULY 22. -- Started this evening in the direction of the water-lake
      in further search of ancient ruins.
       
      JULY 23. -- Found ourselves at daybreak among the mosquitoes in a
      little stream about two kos from Patrun. After breakfasting, we started
      for the vicinity of the ruins. As usual, in the villages we passed
      through, we found traces of cut stone doing duty as washing-stones,
      or corners of walls, &c; and at Patrun we found
      rather a fine old ruined temple, something similar in style to those
      towards Islamabad.[16] It was surrounded at some distance by trees,
      which had tended apparently to preserve the building, for the stone
      carvings were clearer and less decayed by time than any others we
      had seen. Being caught here in a heavy rain, we had a scamper for
      our boats, and after a wet journey, reached Sirinugger about eight P.M.
       
      JULY 26. -- Finding ourselves rather tired of Sirinugger, and with
      no other books than Hindostanee to beguile the time, we resolved
      upon an expedition across the mountains into the regions of Little
      Thibet. Began preparations by hiring twelve coolies, at thirteen
      shillings each per mensem, and a mate or head man to look after
      them. Increased our stock of ducks to twelve, and otherwise added to
      our necessary stores, and completed the arrangements for a move.
       
      To-day a number of arrivals and departures took place, and the whole
      settlement was in a state of excitement and confusion. Boatmen swarmed
      about in rival application for employment, while all the rascals in
      the place seemed to have assembled together for the occasion: those
      who had bills, wanting to get them paid; and those who were either
      lucky or unfortunate enough to have none, wanting to open them as
      soon as possible with the new comers. What with these and pistol
      practice and rifle shooting from upper casements across the river,
      in order to expend spare ammunition, the European quarter was a very
      Babel all day long, and we were not sorry to escape the turmoil and
      get under weigh to new scenes as soon as possible.
       
      About dusk we embarked in two large boats with Rajoo, the cook, and the
      bhistie, the other servants remaining behind, much to their delight,
      to take charge of spare baggage, &c. left in the bungalow. One of
      the Maharajah's army also accompanied us, a rough-and-ready-looking
      sepoy irregular, whose duty it was to ferret out supplies and coolies,
      &c. during our march, and at the same time, perhaps, to keep a watch
      over our own movements and desperate designs. Passed the night under
      gauze fortifications, the disappointed mosquitoes buzzing about
      outside in myriads, and striving hard to take a fond farewell of
      their much-loved foreign guests.
       
      By strange sounds from the direction of my companion's quarters,
      as if of smacking of hands, &c., I was led to infer that they had
      partially succeeded in bidding him good-bye. I, however, luckily
      escaped without receiving even as much as a deputation from the enemy,
      and slept in happy unconsciousness of their vicinity.
       
       
       
      Little Thibet.
       
      JULY 27. -- About six o'clock this morning we found ourselves at
      anchor under the mountains at the northern extremity of the lake,
      and at the mouth of a dashing river of ice-cold water, into which we
      lost no time in plunging. On mustering our forces after breakfast,
      we found that our possessions required fourteen coolies for their
      transport. Our own immediate effects took four, viz. bedding two,
      guns one, and clothes, &c. one; the kitchen required four more;
      tent one, charpoys one, servants' reserve supply of food one,
      brandy, one, plank for table and tent poles one, and last though
      not least, the twelve ducks took up the services of the fourteenth
      all to themselves. The rest of our train consisted of the faithful
      Rajoo, who came entirely at his own request to see a new country,
      the two servants, the sepoy, and the coolie's mate, who was to act as
      guide, carry small matters, and make himself generally useful. After
      a most affectionate parting with our boatmen, Messrs. Suttarah,
      Ramzan, Guffard, and Co., we started on our new travels at about ten
      A.M. under a broiling sun. After several halts under shady chestnuts,
      groves of mulberry, &c., and passing by a gentle ascent through a
      lovely country, we came to our first encamping ground, at Kungur, and
      pitched our tent under a chestnut grove, considerably hot and tired by
      our first march, after all the ease and comparative idleness we had of
      late been enjoying in the valley. Here we saw the first of the system
      of extortion which goes on among the government authorities and the
      people; for after the paymaster to the forces had settled with the
      seven coolies who were not in our permanent employ, not being able
      to take all as we had originally intended, they assembled round us,
      and complained most dolefully of the smallness of their pay. The
      sepoy, who appeared a most pugnacious customer, cuffed some of them,
      and made desperate flourishes at others with a big stick, and seemed
      altogether so anxious to prevent, as he said, the "cherishers of
      the poor," from being inconvenienced by the "scum of the earth,"
      that we suspected something wrong, and on inquiring, ascertained,
      that out of the amount due to the seven, viz. one rupee five annas,
      or about two shillings and eightpence, the organ of government had
      actually stopped eight annas, or one shilling. The mistake we soon
      rectified, much to the delight of the "scum of the earth," -- who had
      certainly earned their three annas, or fourpence halfpenny per man,
      by carrying our impedimenta eight kos under a hot sun, -- and equally
      to the disgust of "the organ" who handed over the difference with
      a very bad grace indeed, and was rather out of tune for the rest of
      the day. Our hearts being expanded by this administration of justice,
      we proceeded to a further act of charity, and emancipated our twelve
      ducks from their basket, into a temporary pond constructed for them
      by the bhistie, where they dabbled about to their hearts' content,
      and soon forgot the sorrows of the road in a repast of meal and rice.
       
      JULY 28. -- Marched at six A.M., and after proceeding about a kos
      found that we were in for a regular wetting. Our path lay through a
      beautifully wooded ravine with precipitous mountain peaks appearing
      ahead in every direction: these, however, were soon shrouded in
      impenetrable mist, which gradually gathered in about us, and proceeded
      to inspect us in a most searching and uncomfortable way.
       
      The road however, though beautiful, was by no means a good one, and it
      was in many places difficult work to keep one's feet in the wet slush,
      over wooden bridges, or along the side of a dashing torrent which kept
      us company, and which seemed to be labouring just now under an unusual
      degree of temporary excitement, in consequence of having had too
      much to drink. We had arranged to breakfast on the road, but the rain
      made us push on, and on reaching the vicinity of our halting-place,
      we stopped to inspect the condition of our garments, and to satisfy
      ourselves as to our future prospects in the matter of dry changes of
      raiment. On opening our small reserve, of which the mate had charge,
      I found that sad havoc had been made in the precious articles we had
      been so hopefully depending upon for comfort and consolation at the
      end of our soaking march. The last efforts of our generally rather
      useless dhobie had been brought to bear upon our present equipment. The
      massive brass smoothing-iron and its owner had alike done their best
      to start us creditably in life with the only clean linen we were
      likely to behold for many weeks, and now nothing remained of the
      first instalment of these spotless results, but a wringing mass of
      wet and dirty linen. The sun, however, coming out opportunely to our
      assistance, we made the best of our misfortune by spreading out our
      small wardrobe to the greatest advantage in its rays. Our guide, who
      by the way appeared to know nothing whatever about the path, proceeded
      to unroll his turban, and divesting himself of his other garments,
      took to waving his entire drapery to and fro in the breeze, with a
      view to getting rid of the superfluous moisture. Leaving him to this
      little amusement, in which he looked like a forlorn and shipwrecked
      mariner making signals of distress, I repaired to a torrent close by,
      and after a satisfactory bathe in the cold snow water, and very nearly
      losing the whole of my personal property in the rushing stream, donned
      the few dry articles I was possessed of, and proceeded to pick out
      our camping ground. We fixed it among the scattered cottages of the
      little village of Gundisursing, and while waiting for the main body,
      stayed our appetites with the few apricots we managed to discover on
      the already rather closely picked trees.
       
      Got breakfast at two P.M. just as the rain began to come down upon us
      again. The supplies procurable here were flour, milk, fowls, and eggs;
      butter, however, was not forthcoming.
       
      JULY 29. -- Marched early after enjoying a drier night than I had
      anticipated from the look of the evening and the fine-drawn condition
      of our tent.
       
      Our road continued up a beautifully wooded and watered valley, and
      reaching a gorge in the mountains, about five kos from our start, we
      halted at a log hut a little way beyond a wooden settlement dignified
      by the name of Gugenigiera.
       
      Here we had a bathe in the rushing snow torrent, a curious combination
      of pain and pleasure, but the latter considerably predominating,
      particularly when it was all over.
       
      After breakfast we sent the coolies on again, intending to halt three
      kos off; however, on reaching the ground, they unanimously requested
      to be allowed to go on to the village of Soonamurg, the halting-place
      shown on our route. It was altogether considerably over a Sabbath-day's
      journey, being nine kos of a bad mountain-path; but as no supplies
      whatever were procurable short of it, we held on our course. After
      leaving our halt, the path led us close to the torrent's edge, and
      the gorge narrowing very much, we were completely towered over in our
      march by gigantic peaks of rock, blocks of which had come down from
      their high estate at some remote period of their existence, and now
      occupied equally prominent though humbler positions in the torrent's
      bed below. Occasionally they presented themselves in our actual path,
      and at one place we found that our course was blocked completely, the
      inaccessible mountain side descending precipitously to the torrent,
      and leaving us no option but to take to the water, roaring and boiling
      as it was. Our guide went first with great deliberation and groping
      his way with a stick, and after an ineffectual attempt to scale the
      rock above, F. and I also unwillingly followed his example. The water
      was piercingly cold as it swept against us, and the pain was so great
      that we were glad to blunder over as quickly as possible, without
      taking very much trouble about picking our steps. After passing
      this in safety we came suddenly upon a band of hill-men with their
      loads, from Thibet; they were the first natives we had encountered,
      and wild and weird-looking savages they appeared as they congregated
      about us, gibbering to each other in their astonishment at our sudden
      appearance. With them, was a strange-looking bullock, with long black
      mane and tail, and hind quarters like a horse, which they apparently
      used for carrying their merchandize. To-day we passed the first snow
      since leaving the valley, although in the distance there was plenty
      of it to be seen.
       
      Nothing could exceed the beauty of the view as we approached our
      intended halting-place. Having crossed the torrent by a wooden bridge,
      the mountains we had been winding through showed out in all their
      grandeur, while above us, inaccesible peaks, with sharp and fanciful
      projections, nestled their mighty heads among the fleecy clouds, which
      hung about after the recent rains. In advance again, other mountain
      ranges rose behind each other, clothed on their southern faces with
      delicate grass up to the point where the snow lay lightly on their
      rocky top-knots and hid itself among the clouds. From the bridge,
      a rustic structure of entire pine-trees, we passed through an upper
      valley carpeted with the brightest soft green pasturage, until we
      reached the usual little cluster of dilapidated wooden tenements
      which constitute a village in these mountains. This was Soonamurg,
      and crossing another bridge, formed of two single giant pines, we
      came to a halt and pitched our camp close to a huge bank of snow on
      the river's brink. What with our halt, and the badness of the path,
      we did not arrive until five P.M., and as the sun set, the spray from
      our snowy neighbour began to wrap its chilling influence about us,
      and we were glad enough to invest ourselves in some thick cashmere
      wraps of native manufacture, which we had hitherto considered merely
      as standbyes in case of extraordinary cold on mountain tops.
       
      According to general report, however, we only reach THE FOOT OF THE
      MOUNTAINS to-morrow. This sounds well, considering that we have been
      ascending steadily for three days, and have left huge avalanches of
      snow beneath us, not to mention the mountains which we traversed on the
      Peer Punjal side before even entering the Valley of Cashmere at all.
       
      At Soonamurg, where we had been warned that there were no supplies,
      we found large herds of sheep and goats. The, people, however,
      were not at all inclined to sell them, and we had some trouble in
      getting hold of a couple of fine fat sheep from them, for which we
      paid, what was here considered a high price, viz. two rupees, or four
      shillings each. We also enlisted the temporary services of two hairy,
      horny goats, which are to accompany us for the next three marches as
      portable dairies, no supplies being procurable on the road. Butter and
      milk are both forthcoming here in abundance, and occasionally rice is
      to be got. Penetrated with the freshness of the mountain air and the
      freedom of our vagabond life, we came unanimously to the conclusion
      that we had made a wise exchange from the FAR NIENTE DOLCES of
      Sirinugger, and passed a vote of general confidence in the expedition.
       
      JULY 30. -- The wind this morning blew bitterly cold over the snow
      and into our tent, rendering the operation of turning out rather more
      unpopular than usual.
       
      Got off, however, about six, and had a fine bracing march over a
      grassy valley among the mountains. After about four kos, the sun began
      again to assert his supremacy, and, in conjunction with the cold of
      the morning, rather took liberties with our faces and hands. About
      half-way we came upon the merry ring of axes among the trees, and
      found a party of natives constructing a log-house for the benefit of
      travellers towards Ladak. Pitched our camp in a wild spot at the foot
      of the mountains, bathed in the snow water, and had a sheep killed
      for breakfast.
       
      One of the live stock died this morning: an unfortunate hen had been
      sat upon by the ducks, and the result was asphyxia, and consignment
      to the torrent.
       
      JULY 31. -- Finished up the month by a difficult march of four and
      twenty miles, encamping at Pandras about eight P.M. and no longer at
      the FOOT of the mountains. Immediately on leaving our halting-place we
      commenced the ascent of a steep glacier, and for upwards of four miles
      our path lay entirely over the snow: so dense and accumulated was it,
      that even when the sun came out and burned fiercely into our faces
      and hands, there was no impression whatever made on its icy surface.
       
      The glacier was surrounded on all sides by peaks of perpetual snow,
      while parts of it were of such ancient date that, ingrained as it was
      with bits of stick and stones &c., it bore quite the appearance of
      rock. The path was in some places so indistinct, that on one occasion
      I found myself far ahead of the rest of the party, and approximating
      to the clouds instead of to the direction of Ladak. About five kos
      on our journey we halted to let the kitchen come up, and had our
      breakfast on the snow in the company of a select party of marmots. The
      little creatures appeared to live in great peace and seclusion here,
      for they let us up, in their ignorance of fire-arms, to within thirty
      yards of them before scuttling into their habitations. They were all
      dressed in blackish brown suits of long thick fur, and considering
      that they live in snow for at least eight months out of twelve,
      they appeared not the least too warmly clothed. As we went by they
      used to come out and sit up on their hind legs, with their fore
      paws hanging helplessly over their paunches, while, with a shrill
      discordant cry, they bid us good-morning and then hurried back to
      their houses again. Not having our rifles handy they escaped scot
      free, otherwise we might have borrowed a coat from one of them as a
      reminiscence of the country. After another kos or two we began to get
      clear of the glacier; but occasionally we came upon enormous masses of
      snow jammed up on either side of the torrent, the action of the water
      having worn away the centre. The path gradually led us through rocky
      passes, over torrents spanned by snow among the magnificent mountain
      range; and although the march was, rather long for a hill country,
      we found no fault with it until about the last three kos, when it
      was getting late in the day, and although fast becoming hungry,
      we saw no immediate prospect of getting anything to eat.
       
      The last few kos we find invariably longer than their fellows;
      one kos by DESCRIPTION, at this stage of the proceedings, being
      generally equal to two in reality. Asking a native, how far we are
      from a halting-place, is invariably answered in one of two ways:
      either THOREE DOOR, not very far, or NUZDEEK, close. THOREE DOOR means
      generally about four miles, while NUZDEEK may be translated five at
      least. A kos too, which ought to be from one and a half to two miles,
      means here anything between one mile and seven. Delaying as much as
      possible, to let our servants up, we reached Pandras at last, and
      found all the inhabitants turned out to see our arrival; they were
      dressed in long woollen coats and sheepskins, and looked something
      between Russians and Tartars, with a strong flavour of the Esquimaux,
      as depicted by Polar voyagers. As the sun went down it became bitterly
      cold, and we found the natives even, shuddering under the influences
      of the snowy wind, which, setting in from the mountains, appeared to
      blow from all points of the compass at one and the same time. What
      the village of Pandras must be in mid-winter it is hard to imagine,
      so covered with snow as the mountains around it are even in August,
      and so bleak and so barren the valley in which it is situated.
       
      In spite of the cold, we astonished the entire swaddled population
      by taking off our clothes, and bathing in a little crystal stream
      close by: two operations, in all probability, which they themselves
      had never perpetrated within the memory of the oldest inhabitant,
      This feat accomplished, we were much astonished by the arrival of a
      RARA AVIS, in the shape of a British traveller, from the direction
      of Ladak. He turned out to be an officer of the Government survey,
      now being carried on in the mountains, and we took the opportunity
      of deriving from him all the information we could, relative to the
      prospect before us. He strongly recommended us to go to the monastery
      of Hemis, beyond Ladak, and also to the Lakes, but the latter would
      appear to be beyond the limits of our time. The only natives we had met
      during our unusually long march to-day, were four hairy-looking savages
      from the interior, from whom, after much difficulty, I succeeded
      in purchasing an aboriginal tobacco-pouch, flint, and steel, all
      combined in one, paying for the same about three times its actual and
      local value, viz. two rupees. They were dressed in long woollen coats,
      with thick bands of stuff rolled round their waists; and all four had
      bunches of yellow flowers stuck in their caps, and pipes, knives,
      tobacco-pouches, &c. hung round their girdles. Their shoes were of
      the Esquimaux pattern, the soles sheepskin, coming up all round the
      front of the foot, where they were joined by woollen continuations --
      shoes, socks, and leggings, being thus conveniently amalgamated into
      one article of apparel.
       
      AUGUST 1. -- On the road a little later than usual, all hands being
      tired after yesterday's exertions. The path to-day lay among huge
      boulders of rock, which had come down as specimens from the mountains
      above, and after a short march of five kos, we reached Dras, a little
      assemblage of flat-roofed houses, with a mud fort about half a mile
      from it, in the valley. This was built with four bastions and a ditch
      scarped with paving-stones, which surrounded it on all sides except
      one, where it was naturally defended by the torrent. On the road we
      passed a curious bridge, built entirely of rope manufactured from
      twigs of trees. The cables thus formed were swung across the torrent,
      from piles of loose stones, in a most scientific way, though not one
      calculated to inspire confidence in any traveller with weak nerves who
      might have to trust himself to its support. It appeared, nevertheless,
      a most serviceable structure, and was decidedly picturesque. At Dras
      we were able to get all supplies except fowls.
       
      AUGUST 2. -- Having a long and up-hill march before us, we were up and
      dressed by moonlight. Outside the village, we came upon two curious
      old stones, standing about six feet high, upright, and carved in the
      way we had already seen at the ruins of Pandau and elsewhere. These
      stones were of irregular form, and carved on three sides, and the
      designs, though much worn, were distinctly traceable. They represented,
      apparently, a male and female figure, standing about five feet high,
      and surrounded by three smaller figures each. Like all the other
      sculptured figures we had seen, they were innocent of clothes, with
      the exception of the rope, or very scant drapery, which ran across
      their ancles and up either side to the shoulders.
       
      Leaving these, we passed through a wild and rugged valley among the
      mountains, cultivated in patches, and watered by numerous little
      sparkling crystal streams. At short intervals, there were little
      settlements of mud huts, built, Tartar fashion, one on top of another,
      and peopled by a few miserable-looking natives, who appeared, in
      their woollen rags, to be cold, even in the middle of this summer's
      day. The few travellers we met during our march were flat nosed,
      heavy-looking creatures, with Chinese skull-caps and pig-tails,
      and were employed in conveying salt to Cashmere, packed in bags of
      woven hair, and laden on cows and asses as weird and strange-looking
      as their owners. About five kos off, we called a halt for breakfast,
      and reached Tusgam about four P.M.
       
      Here we found a few ARBOR VITAE, and other shrubs, in bad health,
      the first of the tree species we had encountered since ascending
      the glacier.
       
      AUGUST 3. -- Struck our camp at sunrise, and crossing the torrent,
      which still accompanied us, descended the Pass by a slight
      decline. During the day we passed through numerous gorges, studded
      with giant masses of rock, and bounded on all sides by rugged and
      inhospitable mountains. We only saw one village, and that some way
      off the road -- Kurroo, the guide called it. Breakfasted under an
      overhanging rock on the mountain side, just where our path was, hemmed
      in by the torrent, and were disturbed during our repast by several
      volleys of stones which rattled down over us from above. They were set
      free by the melting of some large masses of snow, which, being covered
      with sticks and dirt, we had not noticed when we chose our breakfast
      parlour so close to their uncomfortable proximity. To-day we met
      more salt-carrying parties -- uncouth-looking savages in pig-tails,
      speaking a language that not one of our party could understand. We
      also encountered an original-looking gold-washing association of
      five, who were wending their way towards the snow with their wooden
      implements. They were all also weighted with bags of grain, to keep
      them alive during their search. Their labour consists in sifting
      the fine sand which comes down in the snow-torrents, charged with
      minute particles of gold; and the proceeds, from the appearance of
      "the trade," would not seem to be very great. They say it amounts
      only to a few annas a day, but would probably not allow to the full
      amount for fear of being taxed.
       
      At our breakfast-halt we saw the most primitive specimen of a smoking
      apparatus probably ever invented. It consisted of a dab of mud stuck
      in a hole of a tree, about five feet from the ground. Two small sticks,
      inserted in this from above and below and then withdrawn, had evidently
      served to form the smoke passage; while the bowl as evidently had
      been fashioned by the simple impression of a Thibetian thumb, the
      whole forming, for the use of needy travellers, as permanent and
      satisfactory a public pipe as could well have been devised. It had
      just been in requisition before we passed, for a small quantity of
      newly-burned tobacco lay in the bowl; and a fresh patch of clay on
      the mouthpiece had probably been added, either in the way of general
      repairs or by some extra-fastidious traveller, who preferred having
      a private mouthpiece of his own. After rather a severe march through
      rocky mountain gorges, we reached Chungun, a little oasis of about
      five acres of standing barley, with three or four flat-roofed houses
      dotted about it in the usual Tartar style of architecture. It also
      boasted four poplar-trees, standing in a stiff and reserved little
      row, evidently in proud consciousness of their family importance
      among such rugged, treeless, iron mountains.
       
      It was altogether a refreshing little spot for a halt, after the
      savage scenery we had marched through; and pitching our camp in it,
      we were not long in introducing ourselves to the little brawling
      stream of clear cold water to which it owed its existence.
       
      AUGUST 4. -- Started this morning in a mountain mist. Just outside
      the village we passed the scene of the fall of an avalanche, which
      gave one some faint idea of the enormous forces occasionally at work
      among these mountains. It had taken a small village in its path, and
      over the place where it had stood we now took our way, among a perfect
      chaos of masses of rock, and uptorn earth, trees, &c. The whole ground
      was torn and rent, as by the eruption of volcanoes or the explosion
      of enormous magazines of powder. Passing this, our path continued
      to descend the gorge until about two kos from Chungun, when another
      torrent came down to join its forces to the one we were accompanying;
      and leaving our old companion to roar its way down to join the Indus,
      we proceeded up the valley in the society of our new friend. Passing a
      series of little villages nestled among the rugged rocks, we crossed
      the stream by a tree bridge and causeway, to the Fort of Kurgil,
      where, after a long consultation, we breakfasted. The differences
      of opinion between the guide and the rest of the natives as to the
      distance of a village ahead, where milk and supplies were forthcoming,
      were so wide, some saying three kos, others six, &c., that we finally
      determined upon getting some breakfast before deciding the true
      distance for ourselves. The village Hundas was another most perfect
      little oasis. It was only about five or six acres in extent, under
      the frowning mountain, and was terraced and planted in the neatest
      and most economical way imaginable. The fields were beautifully clean,
      and were quaintly adorned in many instances by huge blocks of rock from
      the mountain above, bigger considerably than the whole of the houses
      of the village put together. Leaving Kurgil, we made a sharp ascent,
      and crossed a plateau bounded by some extremely curious formations
      of rock and sandstone.
       
      The mountains appeared to have been reared on end and cut with a knife,
      as if for the especial benefit of geologists in general, although the
      hues of their many-coloured strata were calculated to attract even
      the most ungeological mind by their brightness. Descending from this
      plateau, we came to a pass dotted with three or four little villages,
      wooded with poplars, and adorned with a few shrubs of different
      kinds. Here every available inch of ground which the grudging rocks
      bestowed was cultivated, although all around, the mud-built native huts
      were broken down and deserted, in such numbers as to give the idea
      of an Irish settlement whose inhabitants had transplanted themselves
      to America. At the last of these little villages, called Pushkoom,
      we pitched our camp, the retainers taking a fancy to the place from
      the promise it gave of abundant supplies.
       
      AUGUST 5. -- Made our first day's halt, and enjoyed it considerably
      -- not the least of its advantages being the immunity it gave us
      from being torn out of bed at grey hours in the morning. The rest
      of the force also appreciated the day of rest, and made themselves
      comfortable after their fashion under our grove of trees.
       
      In the afternoon I ascended the mountain opposite to reconnoitre and
      inspect the curious formation of strata, which formed the principal
      feature of the place.
       
      The ascent I found at first to be over a soft crumbling small stone,
      resembling ashes, but of various colours, and in distinctly-marked
      strata. These were generally of pinkish red and grey, and from them
      in large masses, rose enormous blocks of concrete, in all manner
      of forms and shapes, some like towers and fortifications, and
      others standing out boldly by themselves, worn by the weather into
      holes and ridges. After a considerably difficult ascent, from the
      crumbling nature of the stones, I reached the summit of the mountain,
      and climbing a concrete monster which capped it, had a magnificent
      survey of the mountain ranges and country around. In every direction
      the eye rested on snowy summits, and the wind from them fell coolly
      and refreshingly after the toil of ascent under a hot sun.
       
      Returning through the village, I found the natives hard at work
      collecting their crops of wheat and barley, and stowing them away,
      generally upon the flat tops of their houses. They seemed altogether
      a peaceful, primitive race; but, although their ground appears in
      first-rate order, they themselves are uncultivated and dirty in the
      extreme. The ladies, I am sorry to say, are even rather worse in this
      matter than the gentlemen. The female costume consists generally of
      robes of sheep and goat skins thrown across the shoulders; while
      a long tail of twisted worsted plaits, looking like a collection
      of old-fashioned bell-ropes, forms the chief decoration. This is
      attached to the back hair, and hangs down quite to the heels, where it
      terminates in a large tuft, with tassels and divers balls of worsted
      attached to it. On a hill overhanging the village were the remains
      of a mud fort, which had been pulled down by Gulab Singh in one of
      his excursions to Thibet, with a view to bringing the inhabitants
      to a proper sense of their position, and enforcing the payment of
      his tribute.
       
      The number of battered and deserted huts about the village is accounted
      for by the erratic habits of the people, which induce them never to
      stay long in one set of houses, but to flit from one side of the valley
      and from one settlement to another as the fancy strikes them. That the
      large increase of the flea population among such a race, however, may
      have something to do with their restlessness, seems more than probable.
       
      Except when impressed for government employ, they seldom leave the
      vicinity of their villages, and one old gentleman told me he had
      never been even as far as a place called Lotzum, which is only two kos
      off! The religion seems to be a mixture of Buddhism and Mahomedanism --
      the latter on the decrease as we get farther into the country.
       
      The dress assimilates to the Chinese -- pig-tails and little skull-caps
      being the order of the day. We obtained here good supplies of cow's
      milk, butter, &c., and among other things, some peas. These enabled
      us to celebrate our Sunday's dinner by a "duck and green peas," and
      never since the first invention of ducks could a similar luxury have
      been so thoroughly appreciated.
       
      AUGUST 6. -- Started early again, and marched five kos, through the
      little half-deserted settlement of Lotzum to the village of Shergol,
      where we halted for breakfast. Here we found ourselves fairly among
      the Buddhists, and saw an entirely new description of monuments
      connected with religion, from anything we had yet encountered. The
      most striking objects were a series of tomb-like buildings, without
      entrances, and adorned on all sides by the most hideous effigies,
      rudely executed in coloured mud.[17]
       
      Some of these were men, depicted in bright red on a yellow ground, with
      horrible staring countenances; others women, adorned with numberless
      necklaces and other ornaments; besides these, there were peacocks,
      griffins with human arms, deer, &c., and all in the most flaring
      colours and the very rudest designs.
       
      In the perpendicular face of a rock beyond was a very curious
      monastery, or abode of the Lamas. It was built completely IN the rock,
      and was reached by a natural cavity on the face of the stone.
       
      Jutting out from the upper part, balconies had been erected overhanging
      the precipice, and these were decorated with red copings, spotted with
      white. From the fact of only one of our party knowing the language,
      it was difficult to ascertain from the natives the history of this
      curious abode, but they gave us to understand that it was the home
      of their Lamas, or spiritual preceptors. Here we met another of
      the race of wandering Englishmen, who was wending his way back to
      the valley. He was returning from a shooting tour, was all alone,
      and appeared to have had very hard work indeed of it, if his face
      and hands and generally dilapidated appearance might taken as a
      criterion. Not being quite in such light marching order ourselves,
      we were able to ask him to breakfast, and from his ready acceptance
      and the entire justice he did to our offer, I don't think he could
      have had anything to eat for a week.
       
      He appeared to be a thorough sportsman, and had bagged several head of
      large game, which he showed us. They were principally a kind of wild
      sheep with enormous heads and horns, each of his trophies being almost
      a coolie load in itself. Leaving Shergol, we entered a curious valley
      with rocks of concrete standing out like towers and fortifications,
      and on the summits of these again, airy-looking habitations with
      red streaks adorning them, and entered, as that at Shergol, by holes
      in the face of the rock. These were, or had been, the abodes of the
      Lamas; numbers of them now however, as well as the mud settlements
      at their feet, appeared in ruins, and gave no sign of habitation,
      beyond having about them a number of little flags stuck on long poles,
      which fluttered about in the breeze. According to the account of our
      interpreter, which had to pass from Thibetian into Hindostanee before
      it could clothe itself in English, the cause of this dilapidation
      was the state of wealth and ambition at which the Lamas had arrived,
      and the consequent interposition of Gulab Singh to take down their
      pride and ease them of a little of their wealth, both of which he
      accomplished in the style to which he was so partial, by slaughtering
      some hundreds of them and reducing their airy habitations to ruins.
       
      At a place called Moulwee we came to a curious block of massive rock
      standing close beside the path, with one of the red-topped houses
      built into its side. Above this was a colossal figure with four arms,
      rudely cut on the face of the rock, and above all was perched an
      implement, something after the fashion of a Mrs. Gamp's umbrella of
      large proportions, together with sundry sticks and rags, which seem
      to be the common style of religious decoration in these parts.
       
      The figure was about eighteen feet high, the lower extremities being
      hidden behind the building at the base of the rock. It resembled in
      some measure the sculptures occasionally seen among Hindoo temples,
      but no one appeared to know anything whatever of its origin or history.
       
      Close to this there were an immense number of stones collected
      together, bearing inscriptions in two different characters, one of
      which resembled slightly the Devanagree or Sanscrit. Seeing such a
      profusion about, I appropriated one which happened to be conveniently
      small, and carried it off in my pocket.
       
      The sun being intensely powerful, we called a halt at a village
      named Waka, perched among the rocks, where we found a rattletrap of a
      baradurree, which saved us the trouble of pitching our tents. Opposite
      to us was a curiously worn mass of concrete mountain, which might
      easily have been mistaken for artificial lines of fortification,
      had not the scale been so large as to preclude the possibility of any
      but giants or fairies having been the engineers. At the head of the
      valley there was a fine snow-covered mountain, which helped to keep
      us cool in an otherwise excessively hot position. The cook having
      been rather overcome by his exertions to-day, we got our dinner at
      the fashionable hour of nine P.M.
       
      AUGUST 7. -- Starting from Waka at cock-crow, we marched up a steep
      ascent, through a bleak-looking range of hills, to Khurboo, where we
      bivouacked under a tree and got breakfast about noon.
       
      Afterwards, I examined more minutely the inscription on the
      stones, which, as we advanced into the country, appeared to
      increase considerably in number. They consisted in almost every
      case of the same word, containing five letters in one character
      and six in the other, though I occasionally there were additional
      letters, and sometimes, though very rarely, a stone with a different
      inscription altogether. After a good deal of difficulty I succeeded
      in unearthing a Lama from the village to help me in my researches,
      and a strange-looking dignitary of the Church he turned out to be when
      he did make his appearance. He was a bloated and fat old gentleman,
      dressed in a yellowish red garment of no particular shape, and looked
      altogether more like a moving bundle of red rags than anything else,
      human or divine.
       
      Finding that nothing was required of him more expensive than
      information, he appeared delighted to show off his learning, and by
      means of the sepoy, who was the only one of our party acquainted with
      both Thibetan and Hindoostanee, I ascertained that the words carved
      upon the stones were "Um mani panee," and meant, as far as I could
      make out, "the Supreme Being." As the old gentleman repeated the
      mystic syllables, he bobbed and scraped towards a strange-looking
      monument close by, in an abject, deprecatory way, as if in extreme
      awe of its presence.[18]
       
      On inquiring the origin of this new structure, which was built of
      stones and plaster, and decorated with red ochre, all we could get out
      of him was a fresh string of "Um mani panees," and a further series
      of moppings and mowings, accompanied by a sagacious expression of
      his fat countenance, indicative of the most entire satisfaction at
      the clearness of his explanations, and a sense of his own importance
      as a Lama and an expositor of the doctrines of Buddh.
       
      He also explained the only other inscription which I had seen;
      and according to the interpretation of the sepoy, it ran thus: --
      " As God can do so none other can."[19]
       
       
       
      Not another piece of information could I elicit relative to the
      religion beyond the continual "Um mani panee, Um mani panee!" which
      our friend seemed never tired of mumbling; and although the sepoy was,
      I believe, considerably more adapted for the extraction of reluctant
      supplies of food for our kitchen than for eliciting such information
      on the subject of theology as I was in search of, the real cause of
      failure was more to be attributed to the extreme ignorance of the
      particular pillar of the Church that we had got hold of, than to any
      little literary failings of the interpreter. Such were the quantities
      of the inscribed stones about this place, that in one long wall I
      estimated there must have been upwards of 3,000, and this in a country
      where inhabitants of any sort are few and far between, and where none
      appear who seem at all capable of executing such inscriptions.
       
      AUGUST 8. -- Having suffered a good deal yesterday from the heat
      of the sun, we started this morning by a bright moonlight, at about
      half-past four A.M.
       
      Entering the Pass of Fotoola, we ascended gradually for some five kos,
      and reached a considerable elevation, with a good deal of snow lying
      about on the mountains. A peak on the right was 19,000 feet above
      the sea level, and few of those in our immediate vicinity were under
      17,000 feet. From the summit of this pass we descended about three
      kos to Lamieroo, without passing a single hut or village on the entire
      road. The only natives we encountered were a party of three from Ladak,
      on their way to Cashmere, with a couple of fine native dogs, as a
      present from the Thanadar to some of his visitors. The pedestrians one
      generally meets now are old ladies, carrying conical baskets filled
      with sulphur or saltpetre, in the direction of Cashmere, and so shy
      are they, that on beholding "the white face" they drop their loads as
      if shot, and scuttle away among the mountains, so that, if inclined,
      we could seize upon the Maharajah's munitions of war and carry them
      off without difficulty. On reaching the vicinity of Lamieroo, the
      inscribed stones became more frequent than ever. They were placed
      generally upon long broad walls, the tops of which sloped slightly
      outwards, like the roof of a house. Supplies of uncut stones were also
      in many instances collected together in their vicinity, as if for the
      benefit of any pedestrian who might feel inclined to carve out his
      future happiness by adding to the collection. Lamieroo, as its name
      would seem to imply, appears to have been a headquarters of the Lamas
      and their religion. It contains a curious monastery, or Lamaserai,
      built upon the extreme top ledge of a precipice of concrete stone,
      and at its base (some hundred feet below) the habitations which
      constitute the village are also perched on pinnacles of rock, and
      scattered about, often in the most unlikely spots imaginable. Entering
      the bason formed by the valley in which this curious settlement is
      situated, one opens suddenly by an ascending turn upon the whole
      scene, and anything more startlingly picturesque it would be hard to
      conceive. As the view appears, the first objects presented are a host
      of little monument-like buildings, which line the path and are dotted
      about in groups of from three to twelve or fourteen together. They
      stand about seven feet high, and, as far as we could make out from
      the natives, are erected over the defunct Lamas and other saints of
      the Buddhist religion, after which they become sacred in the eyes
      of the living, and are referred to with scrapings and bowings and
      "Um mani panees" innumerable. In the monastery we found twenty Lamas
      at present domiciled -- fat, comfortable-looking gentlemen  they all
      were, dressed in orange-yellow garments, and not a bit cleaner than the
      rest of the natives, nor looking by any means more learned. Mounting
      the side of the bill, and passing under one of the red-ring pillared
      monuments, we entered the precincts of the monastery, and threading
      some very steep and dark passages in the interior of the rock, were
      received by a deputation of Lamas, with the salutation of "Joo, Joo!"
       
      We were then ushered with great ceremony into their temple, much to the
      awe and consternation of our guides, who apparently expected to see
      us as much overcome by the sanctity of the place as they themselves
      were. The temple we found a small square room with a gallery round
      it, from which were suspended dingy-looking Chinese banners, flowers,
      &c., and at one end were about twenty idols of various designs, seated
      in a row staring straight before them, and covered with offerings of
      Indian corn, yellow flowers, butter, &c. They were for the most part
      dressed in Chinese fashion, and in the dusky light had certainly a
      queer weird-looking appearance about them, which was quite enough
      to overawe our village guide; not being accustomed to such saintly
      society, he could hardly raise his eyes or speak above his breath,
      but stood with hands joined together and in a supplicating posture,
      enough to melt the heart of even the very ugliest of idols. The service
      (by particular desire) began by three of the most unctuous of the
      Lamas squatting down on some planked spaces before the divinities,
      and raising a not unmusical chaunt, accompanying themselves at the same
      time with a pair of cymbals, while two large double-sided tom-toms or
      drums gradually insinuated themselves into the melody. These were each
      fixed on one long leg and were beaten with a curved stick, muffled
      at the end. The performance of the cymbals was particularly good,
      and the changes of time they introduced formed the chief feature
      of the music, and was rather pleasing than otherwise. The service
      as it drew to a close, was joined by a duett upon two enormous brass
      instruments like speaking-trumpets grown out of all decent proportions;
      they were about five feet long, and were placed on the ground during
      the performance, and as two of the fattest of the Lamas operated and
      nearly suffocated themselves in their desperate exertions, the result
      was the most diabolical uproar that ever could have been produced
      since the first invention of music.
       
      Not being able to trust the sepoy in such a delicate undertaking, I was
      unable to get any information from the Lamas on religious subjects;
      and all signs and suggestive pointings, &c. were immediately and
      invariably answered by "Um mani panee," so that we left about as wise
      as we entered. The most interesting object in the place was a library
      of Thibetian books. It consisted of an upright frame divided into
      square compartments, each with a word cut deeply into the wood over
      it, and containing the volumes. These were merely long narrow sheets,
      collected between two boards, also carved on the outside with a name
      similar to the one on the shelf. The characters were beautifully
      formed, and I tried to purchase a small volume, if a thing about two
      feet long could be called so, but without effect. There were about
      thirty of these books in the place, ponderous tomes, carefully covered
      up, and little read, to judge by the quantity of dust collected on
      them. They read us, however, a small portion of one, in a drawling,
      sonorous tone, and with no very great facility.
       
      These books, together with a number of rudely-printed papers, of the
      nature of tracts, one of which I carried away, containing some of the
      characters similar to that on the inscribed stones, appear to have been
      printed at Lassa,[20] the capital of Thibet Proper, and from there,
      the head-quarters of the religion in these parts, all the musical
      instruments and other paraphernalia belonging to the temples are
      also sent. One exception, however, I discovered; this was an empty
      brandy-bottle, bearing a magnificent coloured label, which certainly
      could not have been issued from the Grand Lama's religious stores. To
      the English eye, or rather nose, it had but little of the odour of
      sanctity about it; but here it evidently held a high position, and
      was prominently placed among the temporal possessions of "the Gods."
       
      The women here, and those we met on the road during the last two
      marches, wore a curious head-dress, differing from anything of the kind
      we had before seen. It consisted of a broad band extending from the
      forehead to the waist behind, and studded thickly with large coarse
      turquoises. These generally decrease in size from the forehead, where
      there is a larger turquoise than the others, down to the waist, and
      where the hair ends, it is joined into a long worsted tail terminating
      at the heels. Some of these bands must be of considerable value,
      but the proprietors, although otherwise in complete rags, will not
      part with them for any consideration. One lady whom I accosted on
      the subject, thought I was going to murder her, and took to her
      heels forthwith. In general, however, the fair sex here carefully
      hide both their charms and their turquoises behind the nearest rock
      or the most convenient cover that presents itself, and vanish like
      phantoms whenever they discern a white man in the distance.
       
      The cooking department being delayed by the ascent, we got no breakfast
      to-day until one o'clock, unless a drink of milk and a biscuit on
      arrival could be called by courtesy a breakfast.
       
      AUGUST 9. -- Descended from Lamieroo through a precipitous pass
      for about three kos and a half, to Kulchee, a tidy little village
      of fifteen huts, situated in an oasis of apricot and walnut-trees,
      the first we had encountered since leaving Cashmere.
       
      The people here seemed particularly simple and happy among their waving
      corn-fields and wild fruit-trees, and they were most anxious to supply
      us with apricots and milk, and whatever they could produce. The Gopa,
      or head-man of the village, could speak a little Hindostanee, besides
      being able to read and write his own language in two characters, and
      as he seemed unusually sharp and intelligent, I was very glad to have
      a chat with him while waiting for the commissariat to come up. The
      character most common on the inscribed stones, and one of those now in
      actual use, he told me was Romeeque; the other, the square character
      on the stones, is obsolete, and is called Lantza;[21] while a third
      character, which was the one he was most conversant with, but which
      did not appear upon any of the stones, he called Tyeeque.
       
      His explanation of the stones was, that at the last day a certain
      recording angel, whom he called Khurjidal, would pass through the
      land, and inspecting these mounds of inscribed stones, would write
      down the names of all those who had contributed to the heap. What the
      inscription was he seemed unable clearly to explain, but believed it to
      refer in some manner to the Supreme Being. Whatever it was, all those
      who had contributed their share towards its dissemination, by adding
      stones to the mounds, were certain of future rewards, while those
      who had omitted to do so were as equally certain of punishment.[22]
       
      This explanation of the difficulty caused me some qualms of conscience
      on account of the future prospects of the unfortunate writer whose
      particular stone I had appropriated; but for fear the Gopa himself
      might be the sufferer, I thought it better not to confide my emotions
      to him, but to leave the case in the hands of Khurjidal.
       
      Regarding the state of the people here, he told me that each house
      paid a tax of seven rupees per annum to the Maharajah. This, for
      the entire village, would only give 105 rupees per annum towards the
      enrichment of the Treasury.
       
      The Lamas, who have no ground of their own, appear to be a further
      burden on the population. They are supplied gratuitously with food,
      and appear to be somewhat similar to the Hindoo Fukeer, devoting
      themselves to religion and remaining unmarried. They, however, are
      not so violent in their opinions, and are more conversable, to say
      nothing of being decidedly cleaner.
       
      We breakfasted under the spreading walnuts, among an audience composed
      of the entire village, who seemed much edified and amused by our
      novel manners and customs. Some of our English possessions took their
      fancy immensely. A cut-glass lantern and the label of a bottle of
      cherry-brandy in particular, seemed to them the very essence of the
      rare and curious, and they seemed never tired of admiring them. After
      breakfast we again took the road, and marched three kos to another
      little wooded settlement, called Nurila, situated, like Kulchee,
      upon the Indus, or, as it is here called, the Attock. The noisy,
      dirty torrent, as it here appears, however, gives little promise of
      becoming, as it does in after life, one of the largest of the stately
      Indian rivers.
       
      AUGUST 10. -- From Nurila we travelled along the Indus bank to Suspul,
      a distance of seven kos or thereabouts, stopping for breakfast at
      a village whose entire population consisted of one woman! The river
      being shut in by high and rocky mountains, our path took several most
      abrupt turns and startling ascents and descents in its meanderings, and
      proved altogether the worst for coolies to travel that we had as yet
      encountered. The greater part of our march, too, was under a burning
      sun, whose rays the rocks on either side of us reflected in anything
      but an agreeable way, giving thereby a considerable addition of colour
      to our already well-bronzed countenances. Near Suspul we had to take
      to the water, as a mass of overhanging rock jutted into the river and
      completely obstructed the path; and here one of our coolies, stumbling,
      dropped his load into the torrent. It was a particularly precious part
      of our expeditionary stores, containing, among other things, the small
      stock of brandy which was to last us back to Sirinugger. However,
      on inspecting the contents of the basket, the precious liquid was
      safe and sound, and the only damage was the conversion, PRO TEM. of
      our stock of best lump sugar into MOIST. Suspul we found situated in
      a half-moon shaped break of fertility among the barren mountains. The
      snow was within half an hour's climb, while at the same time the sun
      shone with such power as to blister our faces, and even to affect the
      black part of the expedition, rendered somewhat tender, no doubt, by
      the unusual mixture of heat and cold to which they had already been
      exposed. We encamped here under a grove of apricot and apple-trees,
      which resulted in the production of an apple-dumpling for dinner.
       
      AUGUST 11. -- Leaving Suspul, we ascended considerably to the village
      of Buzgo, another of the cloud-built little settlements so dear to
      the Lamas. The tenements were most picturesquely pitched upon the
      extreme tips of almost perpendicular rocks, and to many of them
      access seemed apparently impossible. Leaving this, we entered upon
      a desert of shifting sand and stones, in the midst of which there
      was an unusually long wall of the inscribed stones, one of which,
      although containing the same inscription, was of a different pattern
      from any I had hitherto discovered.[23]
       
      The next oasis was Egnemo, formed, like all the others, by the
      existence of numerous little springs of crystal water, which enabled
      the waving corn to raise its golden head, and the apricot and the
      apple-tree to flourish in refreshing contrast to the general barrenness
      and sterility which reigned around.
       
      After a grilling march, we enjoyed the delights of a bathe under a
      waterfall of clear cold water, and got our breakfast by eleven o'clock.
       
      To-day, some of our brigade of coolies begin to complain of sickness,
      which sounds alarming, not only to themselves, but to us, for none
      others are now procurable. This results from their making too free
      with unripe apricots, and drinking too many gallons of cold water on
      the road; also, however, from the fact of my having doctored the first
      patient who had presented himself, with a couple of pills and some
      tea -- a piece of generosity which drove all the others nearly mad
      with jealousy and envy, and set them thinking how they also might be
      participators in similar luxuries. The pills, although in this instance
      selected promiscuously from a varied stock, were the great objects of
      desire, and such was their confidence in the virtuous properties of
      the remedy, that the character of the particular bolus that fell to
      their share was to them a matter of no consequence whatever. So great
      a rage is there for medicine among people who have never known the
      luxury of paying for it, that even the blind and deformed continually
      applied to us for it on the road.
       
      AUGUST 12. -- Halted to-day, and gave all hands a day of rest, which
      was rather required after our incessant marching. In the afternoon
      we explored the village, and enjoyed a magnificent sunset behind the
      ranges of distant snowy mountains. The crops here were more backward
      than those met hitherto, although the power of the sun was rather
      on the increase than otherwise, as we advanced. Some of the fields
      were occupied by beans, peas, and wheat, all growing like a happy
      family together.
       
      AUGUST 13. -- Made an unusually early start, this morning, for
      our final march into Ladak. The first part of the journey was up a
      precipitous ascent, and over shifting gravel, which was very trying
      to our already well-worn boots; and it was a relief when, on arriving
      at the summit, we found a long and gradual descent before us, with
      an entirely new panorama of snow-clad mountains extending away
      towards Ladak.
       
      In the distance, close to the river Indus, which here branched out into
      several small and separate streams, there was a high mound, topped with
      buildings, which we made for, under the full impression that it was
      our journey's end: however, on reaching it, and turning confidently
      round the corner, we found nothing but a deserted-looking building,
      surrounded by an immense number of the monuments which the natives
      call Permessur; while, stretched out at our feet, and forming, as it
      were, the bottom of a large basin among the mountains, was a dreary
      desert of glaring, burning sand. The place altogether looked like a
      city of the dead: not a soul appeared in sight, except one solitary
      old woman, who was slowly traversing the weary waste of sands, and
      all around was still and silent as the grave. In order to gain some
      intelligence of our whereabouts, I was obliged to give chase to this
      only inhabitant, and from her I discovered, that to reach Ladak --
      a green-looking speck which she pointed out in the far distance --
      we had to cross the desert sands, and still hold on our course for
      several miles. The sun was by this time high in the heavens, and we
      had already come a longish march, so that by the time I had traversed
      the arid plain under the blinding glare, and reached the green fields
      beyond, it was nearly twelve o'clock, and I had had nearly enough of
      the journey. It was, however, a couple of miles farther to the grove
      of trees, where, under very indifferent shade, travellers are in the
      habit of halting to pitch their camps; and on reaching this, I was
      glad to throw myself down on the grass, and, after a drink of milk,
      and the slight refreshment afforded by a leathery chupattie, to go
      to sleep on the grass, until the arrival of our servants and baggage
      should give us a prospect of breakfast. These made their appearance
      about two P.M., and all hands requiring a little rest from the toils
      of the road, we pitched our camp under the trees, and set ourselves
      to the enjoyment of a few days' halt in the city of Ladak.
       
       
       
      Ladak and the Monastery of Hemis.
       
      The first event after being settled in our new quarters was the
      arrival of a sheep, presented to us by the Kardar, or chief dignitary
      of the town, as a mark of affection and distinction. This, according
      to the strict letter of the law, we should have refused to accept;
      twenty days marching, however, while it had sharpened our appetites,
      had rather diminished our stores. Sheep were not to be got every day,
      and an ill-looking animal which we had succeeded in purchasing at
      Egnemo, had been overcome by the heat of the weather and taken itself
      off on the road. Other supplies, also, were a good deal weakened by
      successive attacks; potatoes had been extinct many days, and the stock
      of ducks, which formed our main stay in case of future difficulties,
      was rapidly succumbing to the knife of the assassin. Under these
      circumstances we felt that we would be in no way justified in hurting
      the Kardar's feelings at the expense of our own, by refusing his
      present, and believing ourselves to be in this instance fit subjects
      for out-door relief, the new arrival was soon swinging about in the
      breeze, a welcome addition to our unfurnished larder.
       
      Having thus ended the struggle between our duty and our feelings,
      we turned our attention to the exploration of the surrounding country.
       
      The town of Ladak, although in a commercial point of view by no means
      a flourishing-looking settlement, was, as far as picturesqueness was
      concerned, everything that could be desired. It was built in the style
      so popular throughout the country -- on pinnacles of rock, and such
      out of the way positions as seemed, of all others, the least adapted
      for building purposes -- immediately outside the town, occupying a
      sort of bason among the surrounding mountains, and was what might
      fairly be called a "city of the dead." It was of considerable extent,
      and was formed of groups of the numerous monumental buildings which
      I have described, and which in a country where the habitations of
      the living appear so few in proportion to those of the dead, form so
      curious and remarkable a feature. These tombs, although by no means
      of very modern date, bear traces, in many instances, of the more
      recently departed of the Buddhist population. Burnt fragments of
      bone, hair, &c., were scattered about in various directions, while,
      collected together in one corner, were the little mounds of mud with
      a rise at one extremity, where the sculptured turban ought to rest,
      which denoted the last resting-place of the Moslem faithful. Meeting
      with the Kardar's chupprassie, I entered into conversation with
      him about the manners and customs of the Thibetians, a subject on
      which he seemed to have very hazy ideas indeed, although not on that
      account at all the less inclined to impart them to one more ignorant
      than himself. His opinion of the inscribed stones was that they were
      all written by the Lamas, but he failed completely in explaining
      for what reason they were collected together. He was aware, however,
      of Khurjidal, who was to inspect them at the last day. The tomb-like
      erections, he said, were considered in the light of gods; the bones and
      ashes of departed Lamas having been pounded up together and deposited
      beneath them, together with such valuables as turquoises, Pushmeena,
      rupees, &c. This fact would perhaps account for their being so often
      in a ruined state -- Gulab Singh having, probably, taken a look at
      their foundations in search of such valuable pickings. The reason my
      informant gave me for the unwillingness of the people, however poor,
      to sell their superabundant ornaments, was that they regarded them as
      sacred, and held them as their own property during their lifetime only;
      on decease the jewels reverted to the possessions of the Church. The
      Lamas are provided, by the custom of dedicating in every family of two
      or more, one to that office; should there be a number of girls in a
      family, all those that do not marry become nuns, and adopt the male
      attire of red and yellow. The nuns, however, seem to be by no means
      kept in confinement; they work in the fields, and one of them enlisted
      with us as a coolie, and brought her load into camp before any of her
      male coadjutors. Among other curious information my friend told me,
      that the Thibetians by no means consider that each man is entitled
      to the luxury of a wife all to himself; but that a family of four
      or five brothers frequently have but one between them, and that the
      system is productive of no ill-feeling whatever among the different
      members.[24] He also pointed out a fact which I had not before noticed,
      viz., that the Thibetians invariably pass to the right hand of these
      piles of stones and other monuments, but for what reason he was
      unable to inform me.[25] Having finished his stock of information,
      which I received thank-fully in default of better, he told me, with
      delightful coolness, that it was the proper thing for me to give him
      a bottle of brandy for the Kardar, and that it would be necessary to
      send also a corkscrew with the bottle, to enable him to get at it! The
      impudence of the request was almost worth the bottle, but brandy
      was too scarce and precious a commodity to justify us in pleasing
      the Kardar, so that all I could do was politely to decline sending
      the corkscrew or the bottle either. In the afternoon we explored
      the Bazaar, where we found abundance of dogs, dirt, and idlers,
      but little else. What little there was in the way of merchandise
      the proprietors seemed utterly indifferent about disposing of, and
      after visiting a few shops we went away in disgust. The people were
      a mixture of Cashmeeries, Chinese, Tartars, Bengalees, and Indians of
      all sorts and sects, and more idle, good-for-nothing looking scoundrels
      I never laid eyes on. One most amusing group of Mahomedan exquisites
      reminded one forcibly of PUNCH'S Noah's ark costumes and Bond Street
      specimens of fashion. They were dressed in exaggerated turbans and
      long white Chogas, or loose coats, which reached down to their heels;
      and, as arm in arm, with gentle swagger, they sauntered through the
      bazaar, they had, in addition to their heavy swellishness, an air of
      Eastern listlessness to which the most exquisite of their European
      prototypes could never hope to attain. On reaching our camp we found
      another traveller had added his little canvas to the scene; it was
      one of the Government Survey, whom the natives invariably designate
      by the comprehensive title of "the Compass Wallahs." Wallah is,
      in Hindostanee, as nearly as possible an equivalent to "fellow,"
      and in explaining the character of this particular order of Wallah,
      the accent is always strong on the second syllable of the compass. The
      Compass Wallah in question we found quite a wild man of the mountains;
      his face, from changes of heat and cold and long exposure, was burnt
      and blistered into all sorts of colours, and, to make his appearance
      more generally striking, he wore as head-dress, a flyaway, puggery,
      or turban of blue cotton, of the most voluminous dimensions and
      wonderful construction imaginable. He gave us an amusing account
      of his operations among the clouds; how he always rode a cow! and
      was so much alone that he at times began to doubt the existence of
      other white men in creation besides himself; how he was SEA sick at
      first, and unable to sleep at night from the great rarification of the
      atmosphere, &c. He joined us during dinner, just in time for a triumph
      of a plum pudding which our cook had unexpectedly produced, and his
      heart was so gladdened and expanded by either the suet, the raisins,
      or the brandy, that he chatted away until the dissipated mountain
      hour of eleven o'clock, when we sent him off to bed, much pleased
      with his entertainment, and again reassured, at least for a time,
      of the continued existence, not only of white men in the world, but
      of their plum puddings. Among other statistics he gave us the height
      of Ladak, as 11,000 feet, and that of the recently discovered monarch
      of the mountains, now set at rest as belonging to the Himalayan range,
      as being 29,003 feet above the level of the sea.[26]
       
      AUGUST 15. -- Employed all the morning in endeavouring to procure
      supplies of tea, and after unearthing a queer-looking package
      containing seven pounds and a half, we differed about the price,
      the proprietor demanding twenty-four shillings, or about twice its
      local value.
       
      AUGUST 16. -- There being no tidings of the arrival of expected
      caravans, we marched for the monastery of Hemis, crossing the Indus
      immediately after leaving Ladak, and following it up towards its
      source. Outside the town we passed a mound of the inscribed stones,
      which must have been nearly a quarter of a mile in length, and probably
      contained as many as 30,000. The left bank of the river, which
      thus formed our path, was a continuation of detached huts, forming
      no regular villages, and affording very little shade or apparent
      prospect of shelter for man or beast. The right bank, however, was
      studded with picturesque-looking little villages, built generally on
      rocky summits, and surrounded by tombs and Mani panees, to an extent
      almost to rival the towns themselves in size and importance. About
      nine miles on the road we halted for breakfast, on the confines of a
      desert of smooth stones, from which the heat ascended like vapour,
      and made our eye-balls ache again. There was no shade in sight,
      however, and milk was here forthcoming, so we made the best of a bad
      situation, and, after our repast, lost no time in getting again under
      weigh. After a hot tramp over a perfect desert, we reached the wooded
      little village of Chunga, where, as it was getting late, we called
      a halt and pitched our camp. All hands being tired by their march,
      we got our dinner at nine o'clock.
       
      AUGUST 17. -- Started early for Hemis. From the formation of the
      mountains in which it is situated, the entrance to the village opens
      upon the traveller suddenly and as if by magic; and as we tramped
      this morning along the parched and sandy desert, welcome indeed was
      the unexpected vision of trees and rushing water which the sharp turn
      presented to our astonished gaze.
       
      The entrance to the gorge in which the monastery is situated was, as
      usual, quite covered with Mani panees and walls of inscribed stones;
      one of the former was studded with human skulls, and otherwise
      ornamented, in a way that proved the vicinity of some stronghold of
      Lama talent, though not perhaps of the very highest order.
       
      The monastery we found situated in a beautifully-wooded valley,
      thickly planted, and having a dashing little torrent foaming through
      the centre.
       
      It was built as usual, on the very face of the rock, and towering
      above it was an airy fort, ensconced among a number of crows'-nest
      habitations, perched about apparently with more regard to effect
      than comfort.
       
      While waiting for the kitchen to come up, we inspected the monastery,
      and were waited upon by half-a-dozen Lamas, who showed us through the
      various temples of the gods. Originally containing some two hundred
      Lamas, its numbers had now dwindled down, by their account, to fifteen
      or sixteen. We, however, saw actually more than that number ourselves
      while wandering through the building.
       
      They owned to having treasure in the monastery to the amount of three
      lakhs of rupees ([pound sterling]30,000), but of this we saw small
      signs during our inspection.
       
      Some of the divinities were, however, provided with vestments of
      cloth of gold, and were seated upon thrones, studded with would-be
      precious stones. Others were accommodated with large silver bowls,
      placed on pedestals, filled to the brim with "ghee," or rancid butter,
      and unless blest with inordinate appetites, these, from their enormous
      size, might fairly last them all till doomsday. We were altogether
      conducted through four temples, each inhabited by a number of Chinese
      figures, seated in state, with offerings of corn, flour, rice and
      ghee, &c. before them, and these were generally served in valuable
      cups of china, and precious metals. Hanging from the ceiling and
      the walls around were scrolls, decorated in the Chinese fashion,
      with figures of tightly-robed, narrow-eyed ladies and gentlemen,
      scattered about with the usual perspective results.
       
      Some of these scrolls were decorated with scenes which it would take
      hours to decipher and appreciate. One, in particular, of the last day,
      was covered with innumerable little figures, and appeared well worthy
      of a close inspection.
       
      The bad people might here be seen, falling into the hands of some of
      the most disrespectable looking monsters I have ever beheld; while
      the good were sitting up in a bunch, looking on at the dreadful scene,
      in a satisfied and undisturbed way, beautiful to behold.
       
      The most curious things in the place, however, were the praying wheels,
      which I here saw for the first time. They were little wooden drums,
      covered round the sides with leather, and fitted vertically in niches
      in the walls.[27] A spindle running through the centre, enabled them
      to revolve at the slightest push. They were generally in rows of
      eight and ten, and well thumbed and worn they looked, but others of
      larger dimensions were placed by themselves, decorated with the words
      "Um mani panee," in the Lanza character, all round the barrel.
       
      In the vicinity of the monasteries were various small temples,
      probably chapels of ease, rudely decorated with grotesque figures,
      in red and yellow, and having queer-looking structures fastened on
      the top of them, generally a trident, with tufts of hair attached,
      or strips of coloured calico, horns of animals, and other rude devices.
       
      In one place we came upon a praying-wheel, turned by water, but I was
      unable to ascertain whether the benefit accrued to the water, or to
      the possessor of the stream, or to the public generally. Sometimes
      the people carry portable wheels, and one old gentleman we met was
      provided with a huge brass one, with a wooden handle. It was suspended
      from his neck, in company with a collection of square leather charms,
      fastened by a string to his coat.
       
      On my asking him what the structure meant, he immediately begun to
      set it in motion, and piously ejaculating "Um mani panee," passed on
      without another word, but in evident pity for my benighted spiritual
      condition.
       
      Among other curious sights, we saw one of the Lamas sitting at a
      chapel door, having, before him seven little brass pots. In each
      of these there was a letter of the words "Um mani panee," and the
      pots being filled with water, he was employed in strewing each with
      a few grains of corn from a heap at his side, keeping up at the
      same time a loud mournful chant, and swaying himself to and fro,
      in time with the music. To have inquired the meaning of this would
      only have again resulted in the comprehensive information contained
      in "Um mani panee," so we rested in our ignorance, and passed on,
      much to the relief of the chaunter. After going all through this
      curious monastery, we repaired to our tents, which had arrived in
      the interim, and which we found pitched pleasantly among the trees,
      within a few yards of the torrent. After a bathe and breakfast, we
      came unanimously to the conclusion that the water was so cold, and
      the air so cool and refreshing, we could not do better than halt for
      a couple of days, under the protection of the Church, before again
      taking the road on our homeward route.
       
      AUGUST 18. -- Out early for a day's stalk over the mountains, after
      deer, or anything there might be forthcoming. One of the coolies being
      a "shikaree," or what they call in Ireland a "sportsman," I took him
      with me, and with another to carry some breakfast, off we started at
      about five A.M. The ascent at first was so abrupt, that, although in
      pretty good walking condition by this time, I found myself halting very
      frequently to admire the prospect. Having attained the greatest height
      actually attainable, we spied quietly grazing, about half a mile off,
      some half dozen little animals, which my "sportsman" declared to be
      Ibex, and down Aye went again, best pace, with a view to making a
      circumbendibus, to get behind them. With a view to accomplish this,
      we had to pass across some very difficult ground, and at last came to
      a smooth face of rock, with nothing whatever about it to hold on by,
      and, moreover, an overhanging ledge, which fairly seemed to bar all
      further progress.
       
      The coolie, however, whose every toe was as useful to him as
      a finger, managed to scramble up; and not to be outdone, I also
      attained some height, when, holding on fly-fashion, and clinging to
      the rock with my fingers and grass shoes, suddenly the pole which
      partly supported me slipped away, and my whole attention had to be
      directed to again reaching the ground in as soft and comfortable a
      manner as possible. In this I succeeded beyond my expectations, and,
      a second attempt being more successful, finally reached the top. On
      attaining our hardly-earned post of vantage, however, there was no
      sign of our friends, but, suddenly, on the mountain below us a herd
      of about five-and-twenty more appeared to our delighted view. They
      were standing gazing up at us in astonishment, and for some moments
      we remained fixed and motionless, hoping to be taken for the stones we
      were habited in imitation of. Then, crouching down and crawling along
      as if on velvet, down we went again, and after another long and trying
      stalk, over broken ground formed apparently of small slates placed
      edgeways, and crumbling rocks, whose slightest fall would have been
      destruction to our plans, we attained a rock about two hundred yards
      from the herd, and paused for breath once more. They were lying about
      sunning themselves, with an outlying sentinel posted here and there
      on either side of them on the look-out; and seeing an eligible spot
      some fifty yards nearer, we stole along to reach it. We were not,
      however, destined to take this unfair advantage of the enemy. Just
      as we had half crossed the distance, an ill-fated, abominable little
      fragment of rock suddenly broke off, and at its first bound away went
      the herd like lightning over the precipitous rocks, and with a little
      chirrupping noise like sparrows, were in a few seconds well out of
      range of bullets. As the natives express it, "they became wind,"
      and we were left behind our rock, looking, after all our toils, to
      say the least of it, extremely foolish. A shot which I took at some
      250 yards was more to relieve ourselves by making a noise than with
      any hopes of bringing down one of the light-heeled little creatures,
      for their bounding powers put all correctness of aim at that range
      out of the question.
       
      The next part of the programme was breakfast, but alas! there were
      no signs in any direction of the bearer of our supplies, and I now
      recollected that the rock which had so puzzled us would be quite
      inaccessible to the coolie and his precious charge, without which
      he himself was useless. All we could do was to ascend a high peak of
      mountain, in hopes that the breakfast would ascend another, and that
      we could then exchange signals of distress and obtain relief. However,
      after reaching our look-out station, which took us some climbing,
      we could discern nothing around us bearing the slightest resemblance
      to a coolie, and our hopes began to descend below zero.
       
      It was now about twelve o'clock, and taking advantage of the produce
      of the country, I made a light breakfast off two stalks of rhubarb,
      and tying a handkerchief to the top of my pole as a signal, lay down
      in the very minute portion of shade procurable under a midday sun,
      and indulged in the pleasures of imagination, conjured up by absent
      chicken legs and cold chupatties. After a long wait, I came to the
      conclusion that the two pieces of rhubarb were entirely insufficient
      to continue the day's work upon, so I reluctantly gave the order to
      retreat upon our camp, and turned from thoughts of breakfast to those
      of dinner. My grass shoes were by this time completely worn out by the
      pointed rocks and flinty ground we had traversed, and my spare ones
      were in the society of the cold chicken and the chupatties, so that
      I was soon walking in nothing but socks. Before long, this portion of
      my property was also run through, and I was finally obliged to borrow
      the sportsman's pointed slippers, in which I managed to get along over
      the ruggedest piece of creation I ever traversed, and reached our camp
      about three P.M. Tired, hungry, and burnt by the sun, a bathe in the
      rushing torrent and a visit to the kitchen were soon accomplished,
      and I then learnt that the coolie, being stopped by the rock, had
      come back at once, and, having been again immediately packed off by
      F. to search for us, had not been since heard of.
       
      AUGUST 19. -- Found the Q.M.G. to-day laid up with fever and influenza,
      and administered some quinine pills to him, besides ordering a steed
      to carry him on to Ladak to-morrow.
       
      Explored the Lama's habitations and temples, and saw some very curious
      carvings and paintings on stones, some of them not altogether in the
      Church order of design.
       
      Some of the ceilings were beautifully decorated, and must have cost
      a good deal of money in their day, but they were now rapidly falling
      into decay.
       
      During the day we had a good opportunity of seeing the Lamas go through
      their private devotions. The operation appeared simple enough. Each
      as he entered the court and passed along the rows of wheels, by
      simply stretching out his arm set the whole of them in motion,
      at the same time repeating "Um mani panee" in a dolorous voice to
      himself. Coming then to the large wheel with painted characters,
      he gave it an extra energetic spin, which sufficed to keep it in
      motion for several minutes, and having thus expended his energies
      for the time being, he again disappeared as he had come. One of the
      smaller wheels I found in a state of neglect and dilapidation as
      to its outer case, and thinking it a good opportunity to discover
      something as to the meaning of the system in general and of "Um mani
      panee" in particular, I quietly abstracted the inner contents, in
      full assurance that it would never be missed; that the wheel itself
      would go round as merrily as ever, and that, as far as the prayers
      were concerned, there were still sufficient left behind, considering
      the reduced state of the monasteries, to satisfy the conscience even
      of the devoutest of Lamas.[28]
       
      As I passed out, however, a huge black dog, which was chained up in the
      yard, seemed, by the rabid manner in which he made feints at my legs,
      to be quite aware of what I had done, and he snapped and howled, and
      strained and tore at his chain as I went by, just as if he detected
      the holy bundle sticking out of my pocket, and thoroughly understood
      my consequent guilty appearance. The principal designs upon the stones
      here -- some of which, in colour, were in wonderful preservation --
      appear to be cross-legged effigies of Buddha, seated in that state
      of entire abstraction from all passions and desires, which seem to
      be the end and object of Buddhists' aspirations.
       
      A certain rotundity of form, however, and appearance of
      COMFORTABLENESS, rather tend to suggest that the pleasures of the
      table at least have not quite been renounced among the other pomps
      and vanities of Buddhist life.
       
      AUGUST 20. -- Started for Ladak again, nominally at some desperately
      early hour of the morning, but in reality at about half-past five,
      the sun not shining upon our position until late, in consequence of
      our proximity to the mountains. Mr. Rajoo being still indisposed,
      and, in his own belief, dying, we mounted him upon a hill horse,
      where he looked like a fly on a dromedary. Halted for breakfast half
      way, and had a hot wearisome march afterwards into Ladak, the sun
      being intensely powerful, and the greater part of the journey over
      a glaring desert of shifting sand and loose stones. So deep was this
      in some places, that it was with difficulty we could drag our steps
      along. The latter part seemed perfectly interminable, and not until
      four o'clock, burnt, tired, and parched with thirst, did we reach our
      old halting place. Since our departure, the Thanadar had changed his
      fancy as to brandy, and now requested a bottle of vinegar. This we
      promised in the event of his procuring us some tea, our stock being
      low, and none other procurable without government assistance. By this
      means we obtained a decorated bundle of pale-looking tea for thirteen
      rupees, or 1L. 6S. The bundle contained 71/2 lbs., so that the price
      was heavy enough, considering our proximity to the land of tea.
       
      My shoe-leather being in a doubtful state, I invested in a pair of the
      sheepskin Chino-Esquimaux ones of local manufacture, but soon found
      that the old saw of "nothing like leather" was quite a fallacy, when
      the leather savoured so strongly of mutton as that composing my new
      boots did. In the morning they were absent, and it was not until after
      much search that the mutilated remains of one foot was discovered,
      gnawed and sucked out of all semblance to Blucher, Wellington,
      or any other known order of shoe or boot, while the other appeared
      irretrievably to have gone to the dogs. Our lantern here was also
      carried off by some of the canine race, and left beautifully cleaned,
      but unbroken, not far from our tent door.
       
      Finding that there was no news of caravans, or probability of their
      arriving, we determined upon striking our camp, and retiring again
      towards Cashmere, having attained the furthermost point which the
      limits of our leave allowed.
       
       
       
      A Retreat to the Valley.
       
      AUGUST 21. -- Left Ladak about four P.M. and halted for the night on
      the confines of the desert-plain at Pitok. On the road I succeeded --
      much to my astonishment -- in getting a necklace of bits of amber,
      and a turquoise, from an old lady, whom I found at her cottage-door
      weaving goat's-hair cloth. She took two rupees for the family jewels,
      and, when the bargain was struck, seemed in a desperate fright at
      what she had done, looking about in every direction to see that no
      avaricious old Lama was near, nor any of her gossiping acquaintance,
      who would be likely to tell THE MINISTER of what she had done.
       
      For the first time during our travels, the retainers turned a little
      rusty to-day. The scarcity of the tobacco supply and dislike to quit
      the amusements of city life were the chief causes, and the consequence
      was that the cook, who was sent off at two o'clock to have dinner
      ready for us on arrival, made his appearance about sunset and gave us
      dinner at nine P.M. The Q.M.G. and the Sipahee sauntered in afterwards
      at their leisure, having left the coolies and ourselves to pitch the
      camp how and where we liked. Smarting under these indignities, and
      knowing that the Sipahee was the head and front of the offending, I,
      in a weak moment, committed an assault upon that ferocious warrior. The
      consequence was that the representative of "The Army," feeling its
      dignity insulted in the face of the populace, immediately set to work
      upon the unfortunate natives, and assaulted even the gopa, or kotwal,
      of the village; and so severely was one of the coolies handled, that
      I was obliged to interfere in the cause of peace, and not without
      difficulty succeeded in stopping the stone I had thus so unwittingly
      set rolling.
       
      This same Sipahee rejoiced in the name of Dilour Khan, which might be
      loosely translated the "Invincible One," and such we always called
      him. He was a fierce-looking soldier beyond measure to look at,
      and very terrible among the miserable Thibetians, making desperate
      onslaughts upon the unfortunate boors, to obtain supplies fit, as he
      said, for the Grandees, the Cherishers of the Poor, the Protection
      of the World, &c.
       
      The style of head-dress generally worn among the natives facilitated
      his efforts immensely in these matters; for, throwing aloft his
      sword, and relinquishing his umbrella, he used to seize suddenly
      upon a pig-tail, and, handling it after the fashion of a bell-rope,
      proceed to insist upon the production of impossible mutton and other
      delicacies in a way that was almost always successful, even under
      circumstances apparently the most hopeless.
       
      He had a sharp, detonating way, too, of delivering a volley of
      Thibetian, at the same time curling up his fierce-looking moustaches
      and whiskers, and gesticulating with both arms, which always had
      a great effect, the more so that the expletives were generally in
      Hindostanee, and not being understood, were all the more terrible to
      the unfortunate pig-tails on that account.
       
      AUGUST 22. -- Left for Egnemo, over our old ground, which, wanting
      the attraction of novelty, appeared to us rather longer than on
      first acquaintance. The sun, too, was more powerful than ever and
      the deep soft sand more trying, so that we were glad enough to get
      under shelter at our journey's end. Here we found the apricot trees,
      which were teeming with fruit when we passed, completely stripped
      and bare, and it was with difficulty we got a few from the houses
      for preserving purposes.
       
      AUGUST 23. -- Made an early start, and arrived at Suspul after a
      pleasant march, a cool breeze from the mountains fanning our faces
      the entire way. Here we pitched upon a cool and shady camping-ground,
      close to a rushing torrent, where we were soon immersed in ice-cold
      water. While making a short cut back to breakfast up a precipitous
      face of concrete stone, I very nearly finished my wanderings in Thibet
      with an unpleasantly abrupt full stop. I had nearly reached the top,
      which was higher than I had imagined, when the treacherous lumps
      of stone to which I was clinging, came away in my hands, and, with
      a tremendous crash, down I came in a perfect storm of dirt, dust,
      and stones, very much to the fright and astonishment of F. and the
      mate, who were quietly finishing their toilet below. A broken bone
      in such a place as Egnemo would have been a serious misfortune, and
      it was therefore a matter of considerable satisfaction to find that,
      although half-stunned and doing but little credit in appearance to
      my recent washing, I had escaped with no worse injuries than torn
      hands and what the doctors would call abrasions of the side and elbow.
       
      AUGUST 24. -- Marched as usual, and reached Nurila about noon. From
      the hilliness of the road and the laziness of the coolies combined,
      they did not arrive until two P.M., so that we breakfasted at three
      o'clock. To occupy the time, however, we took advantage of the
      products of the country, and set to work upon a quantity of apples,
      and having both thirst and hunger to assuage, I think we got through
      about sixteen each before the kitchen appeared. While bathing we were
      suddenly caught in a pouring shower of rain, which obliged us to snatch
      up our only garments and beat a hasty and not to say dignified retreat
      into a little den of a water-mill, where we crouched until it was
      over. After the rain had stopped, a curious fall of stones and rocks
      took place down the precipitous face of mountain which bounded the
      opposite side of the Indus to our camp. The noise and the commotion
      the stones made in their descent, reminded one exactly of volleys of
      grape, and to any traveller unfortunate enough to get in their way,
      the results would probably have been quite as disastrous.
       
      Our larder having been low of late, we effected the purchase of a
      sheep here, for which we paid two shillings.
       
      AUGUST 25. -- Left for Lamieroo. The khitmutgar, having reported
      himself sick to-day, we mounted him on a pony, the efficiency of that
      branch of the service being of vital importance to the future prospects
      of the expedition. Having discovered, by yesterday's experience, that
      nature abhors a vacuum, and no apples being forthcoming at Lamieroo,
      we halted for breakfast at the village of Kulchee.
       
      Here I tried hard to purchase a curiously contrived praying-wheel
      from an old Lama, but without success. My old acquaintance, the gopa,
      however, brought me one for sale, but it was in such a dilapidated
      state, and so highly valued as church property, that I let him keep
      his shaky religious curiosity at his own price. Leaving Kulchee,
      we crossed the Indus at a mud fort, and bid the roaring, dirty river
      a final good-bye. Near this the bhistie and khitmutgar, journeying
      together, lost the path, and found themselves well on the road to
      Iscardo before discovering their mistake. The road to-day, like
      all our return journeys, appeared twice the length it did on first
      acquaintance. The hills, too, were very severe on the coolies, and
      it was fortunate we halted for breakfast on the road.
       
      At Lamieroo, we found a great change in the temperature; a strong cold
      breeze blowing, and a general winteriness prevailing, which affected
      our retainers considerably more than it did ourselves. The Q.M.G. in
      particular, not having entirely recovered his health, and being low in
      the article of tobacco, still believed himself to be dying, and was
      most unusually low-spirited and down in the mouth. As it threatened
      rain, we pitched our camp close to an old serai, in order to allow
      our servants to ensconce themselves under a roof, and to derive the
      full benefit of their wood fire, which they lost no time in kindling.
       
      AUGUST 26. -- Exactly a mouth to-day since leaving Sirinugger. The
      live stock begin to show signs of time on their constitutions;
      the four surviving ducks wandering about, with a melancholy sort of
      consciousness that the mysterious fate that has overtaken their late
      companions is also hanging over themselves, and appearing entirely
      changed in consequence from the joyous birds they used to be on first
      starting for their Thibetian travels. To-day being Sunday, we all
      enjoyed a rest; and the feeling on waking at dawn, and remembering that
      we were not to be rudely turned out of bed, was quite a delightful
      and novel sensation. The wind, too, was unusually chill, and as it
      made nothing of the trifling obstacle presented by the walls of our
      tent, we were some time before we finally emerged from among the
      bed-clothes. The people here we found employed in PULLING their corn
      crops, and stacking them upon the roofs of their houses. At Suspul,
      although much hotter than here, they had hardly begun to take in
      their crops, and at Ladak, the harvest was untouched when we left.
       
      In the afternoon, while rambling about the crow's nests of
      Lamieroo, I discovered by chance a very curious temple in course of
      construction, and a number of Lamas and Zemindars superintending the
      proceedings. The principal decorative work was being carried on by a
      Chinese-looking, pig-tailed artist, evidently not a local celebrity,
      who was embellishing the walls most profusely with scenes, portrayed
      in the purest style of pre-Raphaelite colouring. The figures in these
      had only been furnished with flesh-coloured spots where their faces
      were to be, and the foreign "pigtail" was employed, seated on a high
      platform, in furnishing them with features and casts of expression
      in accordance with the spirit of the scenes which they helped
      to compose. This he did certainly with very great skill, and the
      operation was a most interesting one to watch. The floor was covered
      with pigments, and materials of all kinds, and the little community,
      in the midst of the surrounding apparent solitude, were working away
      like a hive of bees. They appeared to have a hive-like dislike also
      of the approach of a stranger, and one old Lama, with a twisted mat
      of hair erected on the top of his head -- a drone of the hive --
      took a particular dislike to me, and scowled savagely as I quietly
      examined the curious designs upon the walls.
       
      The eternal "Um mani panee" formed a very large part of the decoration,
      being painted over the walls in every variety of coloured letters. In
      the inner part of the temple was a large coloured statue, with eight
      arms, and two-and-twenty heads.
       
      The heads were placed in threes, looking every way, in the shape of
      a pyramid, a single head crowning the whole.[29] One of the hands
      held a bow, but the implements contained in the others were entirely
      Buddhist in character, and to me unknown.
       
      Behind this figure was a star, with innumerable radiating arms from
      the centre, while from the points of the fingers were five other
      rows of hands, continuing the star-like circle. These were in half
      relief on the wall, the figure itself standing out some feet, as
      if to receive and appropriate the offerings of corn, flowers, oil,
      &c., which already began to be laid at its feet. Among the litter
      I remarked several tame partridges and "chickore" walking about,
      probably sacred to the newly installed divinities.
       
      The whole scene was a very curious one, and not the less so from being
      entirely unexpected, and occurring in such an apparently deserted
      spot. One might have explored the place a dozen times without hitting
      upon the hive of workmen, and, even when discovered, the excellence
      of the designs and workmanship in so uncivilized a region, was in
      itself remarkable.
       
      Some of the paintings were of rather startling a character to find
      occupying places in the order of church decoration, or indeed any
      other, but they were not perhaps more unsuitable than many I have
      seen in more avowedly civilized temples of worship.
       
      AUGUST 27. -- We found it very hard, in spite of our day of rest,
      to turn out early again this morning. The wind was sharp and cold,
      and the temperature altogether decidedly changed from that we had
      been having. The head of the cooking department being still sick,
      proceeded on a pony, and, having a certain air of the Sepoy about him,
      very grand and imposing he looked. The road being long and up hill,
      we breakfasted at a tomb in the pass of Fotoola, reaching Khurboo
      about three P.M.
       
      In the evening, the comptroller of the household made his appearance
      upon the cook's pony, having from want of tobacco, and other causes,
      become done up on the road. The bhistie alone holds out, and seems,
      as far as servants go, the only hope of the expedition. To-day's
      march has again spoiled F.'s and my own lately amending complexions,
      the icy wind and the burning sun together completely blistering our
      faces. In the evening we enjoyed a lovely sunset, which tinted the
      magnificent range of mountains we had crossed with the most beautiful
      hues imaginable.
       
      AUGUST 28. -- Another bitterly cold morning. Got away well considering,
      and arrived at Waka in time for a late breakfast in the little
      native serai, where we had before halted. Mr. Rajoo and the cook
      came in with an air of great magnificence. They were each mounted,
      and each pony was provided with a well-grown foal, so that the two
      departments may be said to have performed their march with four horses.
       
      AUGUST 29. -- Descended the Waka Valley, leaving Shergol to our left,
      and thereby saving about a kos and a half of already explored road.
       
      Breakfasted under a shady grove of pollards, at the little village
      of Lotzum, a cold refreshing bathe in a snow torrent enabling us
      to do full justice to our cook's very excellent performances in
      this line. That dignitary was upon his legs again to-day, and Rajoo
      convalescent once more. Arriving about three P.M. at our old ground
      at Pushkoom, we found the peaceful, quiet-looking little spot we
      had left, a scene of the greatest noise and bustle imaginable. We
      were now received in due form by the Kardar, and Thanadar of Kurgil,
      not to mention the Wuzeer, or Vizier of Pushkoom. This dignitary had
      formerly been its Rajah, but during Gulab Singh's time was reduced
      to the post of Vizier, or Prime Minister to nobody in particular,
      with a salary of some thirty rupees per annum. Where our last camp
      was pitched, we found a circle of natives congregated, some standing,
      some sitting on their haunches, but all accompanying to the full extent
      of their voices -- at the same time clapping time with their hands --
      the efforts of a band of six or seven artists on the pipe and tabor,
      who kept up a quavering strain of what they doubtless believed to be
      music. To the united melody thus produced, a string of a dozen or so
      of ladies, in their full war paint, were decorously going through the
      monotonous evolutions of a popular dance, waving their arms about,
      gesticulating, and at the same time lingering, as it were, over the
      ground, and comporting themselves in that staid, yet fitfully lively
      way, which seems to be the general style of Eastern dancing. They
      were attired most picturesquely, and evidently in their very fullest
      ball costume, so that we were fortunate in hitting upon such a good
      opportunity of seeing their gala manners and customs. They all wore
      caps of some kind, either of a small, close-fitting pattern, like a
      fez, or in the shape of a large, and very ultra Scotch cap, black,
      and very baggy; these were hung round with little silver ornaments,
      something in the shape of wine labels for decanters, but studded
      with turquoises; some of them, also, wore brooches, generally formed
      of three cornelians, or turquoises, in a row. The broad bands of
      turquoise, worn usually on the forehead, were for the time disrated
      from their post of honour, and were suspended instead from the nape of
      the neck, over a square piece of stiff cloth, embroidered with strings
      of red beads. Round the shoulders, and hanging low, in order to show
      off the turquoises, lumps of amber, and other family jewels, were
      the sheepskin cloaks, inseparable from Thibetian female costume; they
      were, however, of larger size than those of every day life, and were
      gorgeously decorated outside in red and blue, the FUR merely appearing
      at the edges. Below this, everything merged in some mysterious way
      into the variegated sheepskin boots of the country, also decorated
      with red, blue, and yellow cloth patterns on the instep. These bore a
      very conspicuous position in the dance, as the ladies, contrary to the
      principles of modern art, were continually regarding and showing forth
      the aforesaid boots, as they glided about, and pattered the time to the
      well-marked music. The dance was altogether much more pleasing than
      the Indian nach, and the ladies, in spite of their savage jewellery,
      and rude manner, were much more womanly and respectable than their
      gauzy, be-ringed and bare-footed southern rivals.
       
      After the dance was over, there was a general move to a large, open
      space of ground, where the male part of the community were to show
      off their prowess in the native games. To my astonishment, some fifty
      or sixty Thibetians here assembled, each provided with a veritable
      hockey stick, not on foot, however, but each man mounted on his own
      little mountain pony, and prepared to play a downright game of hockey
      on horseback. In the centre of the battle-field, between the two
      "sides," the pipes and tabors forming THE BAND took their station,
      and each time the wooden ball of contention was struck off, set up a
      flourish to animate the players. The Thibetians, however, required no
      such artificial excitement, but set to work with an energy and spirit,
      quite refreshing to behold, and the scene soon became most animated and
      amusing. The Thibetians, unlike Englishmen under similar circumstances,
      appeared to think the more clothes they had on the better, and in
      their long woollen coats and trowsers, and their huge sheepskin boots,
      they quite overshadowed the wiry little horses they bestrode. Besides
      having to carry all this weight, the ponies, most unfairly, came
      in also for all the SHINNING; but in spite of these disadvantages,
      they performed their parts to admiration, dashing about in the most
      reckless manner, at the instigation of their riders, and jostling
      and knocking against one another in a way that would have disgusted
      any other pony in the world. Conspicuous among the crowd of riders,
      was the thirty-rupee Prime Minister, who on a most diminutive little
      animal, charged about in a way he never could have condescended to
      do, had he had the misfortune to have still remained a Rajah. Each
      time that the ball was sent into the goal, the striker, picking it
      up dexterously, without dismounting, came again at full speed down
      the course, the band struck up, and throwing the ball into the air,
      he endeavoured to strike it as far as possible in the direction
      of the adverse party. Behind him, at best pace, came his own side,
      and a desperate collision appeared the inevitable result; however,
      not a single man was unhorsed during the entire struggle, nor were
      there any violent concussions, or accidents of any kind on either side.
       
      The men rode very short, and their clumsy boots, stuck through the
      heavy stirrup-irons, gave them a ludicrous appearance, which was
      little indicative of the firm seat and active part they displayed
      in the games. After seeing the last of the hockey we pitched our
      camp under a grove of trees, and had an audience of the Kardar,
      with a view to obtaining information as to our new line of march,
      which here branches off from the old route. He, however, was unable to
      afford us much intelligence, and we were glad to get rid of him again,
      with a present of fifteen bullets, which were the objects he appeared,
      at the time, to covet most in the world.
       
      To-day a charge was brought against our immaculate bhistie, by the
      Q.M.G., of secreting about half-a-pound of precious white sugar in
      his sheepskin bag. On being confronted with the Bench he confessed
      the crime, improving on it, like most natives, by declaring that it
      was for medicine for his little boy at home, who had sore eyes! The
      cook, being taken up with the festivities and the turquoises, gave
      us our dinner at an unusually fashionable hour.
       
      AUGUST 30. -- Started for a fresh line of exploration, not without
      some difficulty and opposition, in consequence of a desire on the
      part of the Sipahee and the servants to revisit Kurgil, with a view
      to the tobacco supplies supposed to exist there.
       
      The consequence was that they obtained all sorts of information for us
      as to the badness of our proposed road, and the insuperable obstacles
      to be overcome from unbridged rivers, snow, &c. Persevering in our
      plans, however, we were rewarded by finding a great improvement in
      the scenery, and, from the novelty of the day's work, a corresponding
      benefit to the spirits of the entire expedition. Passing through
      a little village called Menzies, we halted for breakfast within
      view of the northern face of an entire new range of snow-capped
      mountains. Everything gave promise of fine scenery in advance, and
      about four P.M. we reached Thambis, a lovely piece of cultivation,
      surrounded on all sides by monster rocks, and overlooked by a peak of
      pure white virgin snow, and here we pitched our little camp. Entering
      the village suddenly from the rocky mountain-pass, the little place
      looked inexpressibly green and refreshing, and we were soon under the
      shade of a row of pleasant pollards, which lined the bank of a stream
      near which we halted. As at Pushkoom, the second crops were down,
      and the people employed in thrashing and grinding their corn. The
      new crop consisted principally of pulse of various kinds, radishes,
      and a few fields of tobacco, and nestled in pleasant nooks and corners
      there were occasional gardens of melons.
       
      Here we got two fine sheep for one rupee ten annas, or 3S. 3D., and
      one of them formed a sumptuous repast for the coolies and retainers,
      who held a most convivial banquet round their camp-fires in the
      evening. The primitive inhabitants seemed quite unaccustomed to the
      sight of strangers, and we found on this account, better and more
      plentiful supplies procurable, while the assembling of the entire
      village to behold the wonderful arrival, formed a pleasant excitement
      after the day's march.
       
      To-day we had the choice of two roads, one on either side of the
      torrent; that on the right bank was reported bad, and we accordingly
      decided upon the other, but an unexpected obstacle then presented
      itself in the shape of a bridge of rope of a very considerable length,
      crossing the torrent. It was formed of the twigs of trees, and being
      in an unpleasantly dilapidated condition, the passage was a matter
      of some difficulty if not danger. To save the direct strain a number
      of the villagers took up their position to distend the side ropes,
      and having to get over the outstretched legs of these officious
      aids, made the affair a very much more nervous proceeding than it
      would otherwise have been. The lowness of the side-ropes, and the
      oscillation of the ricketty structure rendered the feat altogether a
      rather more amusing performance to the looker on than to the actual
      performer, and I was not to reach the opposite shore. On the arrival
      of the coolies, they all hung back, and regarded the machine with
      utter astonishment, and when one of them did essay the passage,
      his coat caught in one of the twigs, about half way across, and not
      having the use of his hands, he was completely caught as in a trap,
      and unable either to advance or retire. In endeavouring to turn,
      his load nearly upset him, and there he remained until extricated
      by one of the villagers. A few of the coolies afterwards got across,
      and also the servants, with great trepidation, but the greater number,
      with the main body of the baggage, including, alas! all the cooking
      department, except one load, were afraid to essay the passage, and had
      to take to the bad road in despair. The fraction of the commissariat
      stores which did reach our side of the water turned out to be plates,
      knives, forks, and kettles, so that we had before us no prospect of
      breakfast until we arrived at a village some ten kos off, where a
      more respectable bridge was to re-unite us with our goods and chattels.
       
      As promised, the path on our side was pretty good, and led us
      through several peaceful little villages, overhung by giant rocks,
      and dotted with enormous blocks of stone, which had descended to
      disturb the harmony of the scene during some convulsion or commotion
      in the interior economy of the mountains. Some of these were taken
      advantage of by the natives to serve as canvas for their designs,
      and were carved with effigies of four-armed divinities, and other
      SACRED subjects. With the exception of these, we saw few traces of
      Buddhism about us here. Passing through one of the villages, I bought
      a medicine-book, or charm, from one of the natives. It was in Arabic,
      and was rolled and swathed like a mummy, and worn round his arm. He
      told me that he had inherited it from his father, and appeared by no
      means happy when it was gone.
       
      Arriving at Sankoo, we found it a well-wooded thinly-inhabited
      valley, about a kos and a half in length. Here we had a new specimen
      of bridge architecture to pass. It was formed simply enough of
      two crooked trunks of trees, and, considering the torrent below,
      it required a considerable amount of confidence to enable one to
      traverse it successfully. From the scarcity of the population, I had
      great difficulty in finding anybody to procure me a drink of milk,
      and when I at last discovered a woman and two children, she was so
      thunderstruck that, catching up one of her offspring in her arms and
      shrieking to another to follow her, like a hen and chickens swooped at
      by a hawk, away they went as fast as their legs would carry them. As
      this was no satisfaction to me, however productive it might be of
      milk to the baby, I began to make signs of bringing down the family
      mansion that short distance required to raze it to the ground, and
      thus succeeded in calling forth from its interior a half-naked old
      gentleman out of his study to my assistance.
       
      He, however, in an abject way informed me that he had no milk himself,
      but would introduce me to a friend who had. I accordingly followed
      him, "at the point of the stick," until we reached another mud hovel,
      where we found the lady of the house sitting in her porch working,
      and a supercilious-looking gentleman reclining at her side.
       
      Neither of them, however, seemed to pay the slightest attention to my
      wants, and savage with thirst, I charged the whole trio, saluting the
      gentleman at the same time with an application of my stick. Instead of
      his jumping up, however, as I expected, I found that the unfortunate
      man was kept in his recumbent position by rheumatism, or some such
      ailment, and that, in my ignorance of Thibetian, and want of milk
      and patience combined, I had committed an atrocious and unwarrantable
      assault upon an invalid. Meantime, however, the lady was off like a
      shot, and soon returned from the dairy bearing both milk and flour,
      wherewith to appease the ferocity of her visitor. Having nearly
      choked myself with the meal and brought myself round again with the
      milk, I gave the invalid full compensation and satisfaction as far
      as I was able, for my attack, and again took to the road in search
      of the bridge which was to re-unite us with our baggage and our
      breakfast. Before reaching it, however, I was the unfortunate cause
      of the entire abandonment of some half-dozen houses, by merely halting
      to sit down for a few minutes under a tree in their vicinity. Whether
      the inhabitants -- who appeared to be all women -- thought that I
      was going to open trenches and beleaguer them or not I don't know,
      but, after a few minutes, I used to see one of them dart out from
      behind a mud wall and scuttle away like a rabbit; then another
      lady would steal out, carefully lock the door, and with a child
      on her back and a couple of olive branches in rear, crawl over the
      housetop and out at the back garden, there taking to her heels, and
      vanishing with her convoy suddenly from sight. This operation being
      repeated in other tenements, I found myself at last left in full and
      uninterrupted possession of the entire settlement I happened to be
      in the vicinity of, including the cocks, hens, firewood, dwelling,
      places, and messuages, &c. thereunto appertaining and belonging. When
      they re-occupied the evacuated premises I don't know, but Rajoo, I
      ascertained, wished them all no future happiness when, on coming up
      some time afterwards, he knocked at every door and looked down every
      sky-light and chimney in the village without being able to procure
      as much as a light to ignite the tobacco in his "hubble bubble." The
      coolies having found the path on the right bank of the torrent quite as
      bad as prognosticated, we got our breakfast shortly before sunset. From
      the proximity of a high rocky mountain, towards the westward of our
      camp, however, this was considerably earlier than might be imagined.
       
      SEPTEMBER 1. -- Commenced our last month but one of leave, by a
      fine march of some sixteen miles from Sankoo to Tesroo, or Sooroo,
      at the foot of the grandest snowy range we had yet encountered. The
      path led us over a gigantic fall of rocks, evidently the deposits
      formed by successive and destructive avalanches.
       
      In some parts the traces were quite fresh, the rocks being rent and
      uptorn in a wonderful way; and, in one place, we passed the ground
      where two villages had been entirely overwhelmed by an avalanche,
      the entire population of twenty-five having been killed in the ruins.
       
      After walking about five or six kos, in the finest and freshest of
      morning air, we suddenly opened upon a noble mountain of pure unbroken
      snow, rearing its head proudly into the blue sky among a train of
      courtiers, not so noble, nor so purely, whitely, clad as itself,
      but still arrayed in robes of glistening snow. Here the path emerged
      from the side of the rugged mountain torrent, and brought us about
      two kos over fine turfy grass to within some three miles of Sooroo;
      and here we halted, under a grove of trees, for breakfast. After this,
      we had another rope bridge to pass, which was so little to the taste
      of the coolies, that they were glad to get the natives to carry over
      their loads for them. On crossing we found the Thanadar, a fine old
      black-muzzled Cashmeeree, with his Moonshee, and a train of eight
      Sipahees waiting to receive us, and were conducted in due form to
      our camping ground. Here the breeze, as it whistled over our tent,
      savoured strongly of the snow, and reminded us of the vicinity of
      the chilly mountain Grandees we had seen on our road, and which still
      presided over us.
       
      The natives even appeared to feel the cold, though in the winter months
      they are entirely snowed up, and ought to be pretty well inured to
      it by this time.
       
      The entire valley is, in winter, totally submerged in snow,
      and a stranger might then pass over it without knowing there were
      villages beneath his feet. The bridges are annually swept away, and
      so suddenly does the hard weather make its appearance, that even now
      the inhabitants were in fear and trembling lest the snows should come
      down on them before their crops of wheat and barley were carried for
      the winter's use.
       
      Numbers of fields of corn are still within a week or so of ripening,
      and, should they be lost, the chance of winter's subsistence would
      be small indeed.
       
      The appearance of a Thibetian settlement here, as one looks down upon
      it from a height, is very much that of an ant-hill. The huts are built
      on the top of each other, and generally on mounds, and the people,
      like ants, are busily and laboriously employed in laying up their
      winter store, not only of grain, but also of firewood, and anything
      capable of serving in its place, to enable them to struggle through
      their dreary mouths of captivity.
       
      Huge loads of corn and stacks are to be seen moving about, apparently
      spontaneously, disappearing through queer holes and corners of the
      earth, and again appearing on the housetops, where they are stacked
      and stored. The bundles of fire-wood being placed with the branches
      outside, and neatly ranged, they give the peaceful settlement quite
      a bristling and warlike appearance, as if defended by CHEVAUX DE
      FRISE. The Zemindars here pay but two rupees a year to the Maharajah,
      but it seems a hard case that such hardly-subsisting people should
      have to pay anything whatever in such a sterile dreary territory as
      they possess.
       
      To-day we came across one solitary mound of the inscribed stones,
      probably the last, as we now cross the mountains into Cashmerian
      territory again.
       
      To the south of our camp, the road from Ladak through Zanskar joins
      the valley, and we half regretted not having risked the chances of
      that road; however, it was uncertain whether it was passable, and,
      as time was valuable, we had but little option in the matter.
       
      SEPTEMBER 2. -- Being Sunday, we had a regular rest, explored the
      country, and made the acquaintance of the few Thibetians who inhabited
      the villages.
       
      Everywhere there were signs of the invasion of Gulab Singh, some
      twenty years ago. Houses in ruins, and forts reduced to dust and
      rubbish. To replace these latter, a new fort had been constructed by
      Rumbeer Singh, in what appears about the worst possible position in
      the entire valley to render it of any use whatever.
       
      The people were busily employed in their fields, pulling and carrying
      corn, and treading it out with oxen. A team of six I saw, most
      uncomfortably performing this work. They were tied together by the
      noses, and so small a piece of ground had they to revolve upon, that
      the innermost animal had to go backward continually, while the centre
      ones were regularly jammed together by the outsiders. Two deformed
      natives were employed in driving this unhappy thrashing machine.
       
      In the evening, the Thanadar's Moonshee came to beg a "razee nama,"
      or "letter of satisfaction," which we gave him, together with a
      "bukshish," with which he seemed well pleased.
       
      SEPTEMBER 3. -- Got up this morning with a peculiarly cold feel, and
      started with a fine piercing breeze in our teeth, blowing directly
      off the snows.
       
      Our force was augmented to-day by three goats, as portable dairy, and a
      party of natives, with three days' supplies, also a guide, for our path
      lay over ground neither much frequented nor well known. To-day's has
      been the grandest scene of the panorama yet unfolded to us. From the
      last halt, no inconsiderable height in itself, we mounted continually
      towards the huge white masses of snow, which so lately towered above
      us in the distance. Passing the remains of mighty avalanches firmly
      fixed across the foaming torrent, we ascended the snow valley by the
      side of a perfect mountain of ice and snow, the accumulations of,
      possibly, as many years as the world has existed, which had formed
      itself immoveably between the mighty mountain's sides. The terrific
      force, with which the masses of snow had come down each season, to
      repair the ravages in the frozen monster's constitution caused by the
      melting away of his lower extremities, could be seen by the enormous
      blocks of stone which rested on its surface in all directions. In
      some places fantastic arches of snow were thus formed, with blocks of
      rock resting on their summits, and such a distance were these central
      accumulations of rocks, and snow, and ice, from the cradles in which
      they were reared, that it was impossible to conceive, without the
      occurrence of an earthquake, how they could ever have reached their
      present positions.
       
      One begins now faintly to understand how it is that the enormous number
      of torrents dashing about are kept supplied with icy life. The vast
      quantities of snow wedged into solid masses, which must have existed
      since all time among these mighty mountains, would serve to feed rivers
      innumerable, and the supply, as long as rivers and mountains exist,
      would appear to be inexhaustible.
       
      Our path, if path it could be called, was very bad in parts, and
      so difficult for the coolies that we were fortunate in getting our
      breakfast at two P.M., and, when we did get it, a snowstorm which
      came down upon us rather hurried our procedings in discussing it.
       
      The entire afternoon it continued snowing, and the mountain-tops
      soon hid themselves and sulked away among the leaden mists. Our tent
      was pitched among a low sort of scrub, the only apology for fire-wood
      procurable, and here we soon had a fine carpet of fresh snow, which put
      the unfortunate coolies, and the servants, and the three goats and the
      four ducks, and, in fact, everybody but F. and myself, who now begin to
      feel thoroughly AT HOME, to considerable discomfort and inconvenience.
       
      About a hundred yards from us rises the central mountain of
      consolidated old snow; while the monarchs of the place, whose
      hospitality we have been enjoying, overtopped our diminutive little
      worn canvas dwelling with proud and gloomy magnificence, or hid
      themselves from us in their ermine mantles, with aristocratic
      frigidity.[30] Before us, the path continues towards the clouds,
      hemmed in, to all appearance, by a mighty glacier, which it would
      seem impossible to avoid in our tomorrow's route. To-day we again
      find the society of the little shrieking marmots, who seemed more than
      over astonished at what could bring so strange and motley a group of
      creatures to disturb the universal quiet of their solitude. Of all
      our party the cook, perhaps, here fares the worst. The only things
      growing about us are a few plants of rhubarb and the miserable scrub,
      which he is obliged to use with all faith as firewood! this being
      thoroughly wet requires much coaxing to ignite, and what with the
      difficulties of his profession, the cold, the falling snow, and the
      increased appetites of the SAHIBS, the unfortunate head of the cooking
      department becomes for the time the most intensely miserable being,
      black or white, upon the whole face of the globe.
       
      SEPTEMBER 4. -- Awoke this morning to find the encampment, and its
      vicinity, covered with snow, and every prospect of a snow-stormy march
      before us. The coolies and servants were in a deplorable state of
      frozen discomfort, but all kept up their spirits by laughing at each
      other's woes. Just as the sun appeared above the mountains for a few
      minutes only, we got under weigh; the tent, however, took some time
      to disencumber of its load of frozen snow, and to pack, and all the
      baggage required excavating previous to becoming capable of removal.
       
      The path up to the great glacier above us was wild and barren, it
      lay over a little plain watered by branching streams, and covered
      over with ice and newly fallen snow. Crossing one of these streams,
      I flushed a solitary woodcock, the only inhabitant of the wild,
      and shortly afterwards, our guide, an uncouth bundle of sheep-skins,
      slipped over a frozen stone, and came down in the freezing water with
      a splash, which, at that hour of the morning, made one shudder all
      over involuntarily. The snow-shoes which F. and myself had donned,
      alone saved us several times from a similar, uncomfortable fate. Our
      path, properly speaking, should have led over the very centre of the
      glacier; but, in consequence of the numerous crevasses and the early
      appearance of the new snow, our guide steadily refused to take us
      over the pass by that route. To have taken it without a guide would
      have been simply impossible; so we diverged to one side, and, after a
      sharp ascent of two hours over the snow, reached a sort of upper basin
      among the very mountain-tops. Here the scene which opened on us was
      wild beyond description. We were now about 18,000 feet above the sea,
      and in every direction around us snow hemmed in our view. Under our
      feet was a plain of pure white snow; the mountain-tops were snowy
      HILLOCKS, standing white against the leaden sky; and from above the
      fleecy snow-flakes fell around us thickly as we trudged along. The
      ground was most treacherous, and required great care m traversing, and
      in one place, being ahead of the guide, the snow and ice suddenly gave
      way beneath me, and with a most unpleasant sensation of uncertainty
      as to where I might be going, I found myself standing up to my waist
      in snow and to my knees in freezing water.
       
      The guide, almost at the same moment, came to the same end, and it was
      not without much floundering and blundering that we both extricated
      ourselves from our difficulties. Shortly after this we crossed the
      highest point of the pass, and here the guide said his prayers to the
      presiding "peer," or divinity of the place, previous to asking for
      bukshish; after which he and the sepoy proceeded to smoke a pipe of
      peace and tranquillity together. The most trying part of our day's work
      we found to be waiting for breakfast, the coolies being much retarded
      both by the road and the state of the weather. We stopped at a sort
      of temporary abode, where some slight protection from rain and snow
      was obtained by the piling up of stones against an eligible rock,
      and here, after a long and dreary wait, we breakfasted in a little
      smoke-dried, draught-inviting den, the snow all the time coming down
      in a way not altogether adapted for the enjoyment of such AL FRESCO
      entertainments. Descending from this, we came to a grassy slope at
      last, and so by a most precipitous path to the valley on the southern
      side of the mountains, down which a formidable torrent rolled along,
      dividing itself into a number of channels not very promising as to our
      prospects of reaching the opposite side. Here we saw an enormous flock
      of sheep grazing on the mountain-side, seeming, as they moved to and
      fro in search of pasture, like a floating cloud against the hill. There
      must have been several thousands, though accurate computation was out
      of the question. They made, however, all the other mountain-flocks
      we had met, appear as nothing in point of numbers.
       
      Arriving at the many-branching river, I was for some time quite at a
      loss for a ford, until a native, seeing the dilemma I was in, crossed
      to my assistance. Finding me stripping to the work, he insisted on
      my mounting upon his back, and in an evil moment I consented. The
      consequence was that, after passing safely a couple of the streams,
      in the deepest spot of the whole torrent, he tottered and fell,
      and down we both came, he in the most ungraceful position in which
      man can fall, and I, luckily, upon my feet. The sensation, however,
      on suddenly finding the water rushing past, and one's feet slipping
      about among the clinking stones, was anything but pleasant, and it
      was with difficulty that I collected myself together and completed
      the uncomfortable passage. The tent being luckily pitched about a mile
      farther on, the loss of dignity in the eyes of the bystanders was the
      only evil result of the misfortune. Towards night it came on again to
      snow, and the coolies and retainers had another hard bivouac of it,
      while F. and I were obliged to keep all hands at the pumps, or, in
      other words, to fasten all available rags and wraps under our canvas,
      to keep out the soaking wet.
       
      The cold was very great, and everything gave token of coming winter,
      and testified to what the Himalayas can do in the snow and ice line
      of business when their full time shall arrive.
       
      SEPTEMBER 5. -- After a damp night's bivouac, we awoke to find "A
      MIXTURE AS BEFORE" falling -- a mixture of rain, sleet, and snow --
      anything but promising for the comfort of our day's march. To avoid
      having to wait in the wet for breakfast, we sent on the kitchen and
      the cook, and, after some time, followed leisurely ourselves.
       
      An overhanging ledge of rock afforded us some shelter for our meal,
      and, after warming and drying ourselves to some extent in this
      smoke-blackened and not very commodious little Himalayan hotel, we
      again pressed on. This was our third day away from either villages or
      regular shelter of any sort, and the retainers were naturally anxious
      to reach some settlement where they could, for a time at least,
      protect themselves from the rain and snow which still continued to
      fall. The consequence was, they pressed on some sixteen miles farther
      at a good pace, to reach a little wooden village at the head of the
      Wurdwan valley, and we saw nothing of them on the road. On reaching
      our halting-place, however, lo and behold, our unfortunate cook was
      absent, and nobody seemed to know anything whatever about him! The
      cooking things and the larder were all present, and dinner-hour was
      at hand; but, alas! the pots and kettles were without a lord, and the
      question of where was our dinner began to give way in point of interest
      to where was our cook. At the time F. and I left the "cave-hotel,"
      the whole of the coolies, Rajoo, the three goats, and the two sheep,
      had all gone on ahead, as also the "Invincible One," the sepoy.
       
      The bhistie and the missing cook had therefore only remained
      behind. The road, soon after leaving, entered a wooded gorge, and,
      as the valley narrowed, the torrent began to get considerably more
      rapid and boisterous, as it took to leaping down the giant rocks,
      which bound it in between their iron grasp and formed its only bed.
       
      The path was wet and sloppy, and led in parts along the tops of rather
      dangerous precipices. Passing cautiously over these, and through
      wooded paths lined with mosses and wild flowers, whose perfume scented
      the entire air, we came upon a curious bridge of well-packed snow,
      which spanned the torrent. A treacherous-looking specimen it was,
      and after taking its likeness in my pocket-book, I was passing it as a
      matter of course, when I suddenly heard a shout, and perceived F. and
      the mate at the other side of the torrent beckoning me to cross the
      snow. I accordingly, with no very good grace and some astonishment,
      essayed the passage. The snow I found hard as ice, and not liking the
      look of its treacherous convex sides, I held my course straight up the
      centre, and then descended with great care and deliberation along the
      junction of the snow and the mountain. So slippery was the passage,
      that without grass shoes I should have been sorry to have attempted
      it, and, as I halted to regard the curious structure from a distance,
      I could not help thinking what a likely spot it was for a traveller to
      lose his life without anybody being the wiser, and what a small chance
      he would have in the deep and rapid torrent below if he should happen
      to slip into its remorseless clutches. The path from this continued
      its perilous character, in one place traversing a precipitous face
      of rock only passable on all fours, beneath which a thick cover of
      long grass and weeds hung over the deep, treacherous-looking pools of
      the torrent. Having on a pair of grass shoes which had already done
      one day's work, I had broken down about half way, and was now nearly
      bare-footed. I consequently did not arrive till nearly the last of
      the party, and found the tent pitched and fires lit under a group of
      large trees, in the wooden village of about a dozen houses, called
      Sucknez. It was then getting dusk, and after waiting a reasonable
      time, we sent out a party from the village to make search for our
      missing man, while F. and I, lighting a fire almost in the tent door,
      proceeded to cook our own dinner.
       
      The materials consisted of an unlimited supply of eggs and a box
      of sardines, hitherto neglected, and despised among the artistic
      productions of our lost professor. F. superintended the frying
      of the eggs, and produced a conglomeration of some eight of them,
      which we pronounced unusually delicious, while I laid the table and
      looked after the kettle, for we thought it better, under our bereaved
      circumstances, to knock tea and dinner into one meal. Although we had
      made a longish march, we managed, with the aid of the kettle and the
      brandy, to sit up by the light of a roaring pine fire until late, in
      the hopes of some news arriving of our searching party. None however
      came, and we went to bed HOPING that the man had lost his way, and
      FEARING that he had fallen either over the slippery snow-bridge or
      down one of the many precipices into the torrent.
       
      SEPTEMBER 6. -- Morning came, but neither news of our cook nor of
      the party who went out in his search, and, after breakfast, donning
      a pair of grass shoes, and provided with some matches and a small
      bottle of cherry-brandy, I sallied out with the mate on a voyage of
      discovery. Outside the village I met the searching party, who had
      been out all through the bitter night, but had found no traces of
      the object of their search.
       
      Sending a note to F. to dispatch all the coolies to search, I pressed
      on to the most dangerous precipice of our yesterday's route, and,
      descending to the torrent, searched about the grass and weeds at the
      bottom, but without finding any traces. About this place I met three
      lonely travellers, laden with meal, who had come along the entire
      path, but had seen no sign of a human creature anywhere. I now gave
      up our man as lost, but still held on, in a pouring mixture of sleet
      and snow, which added considerably to the gloom of the scene. Every
      now and then the old mate, who was in very low spirits, would raise
      a lugubrious wail at the top of his voice of "Ai Khansaman Jee! Ai
      Khansaman Jee?" "Oh, cook of my soul! oh, cook of my soul, where
      art thou?" at the same time apparently apostrophizing the deepest
      whirlpools of the torrent, while the roar of the waters effectually
      prevented his magnificent voice from reaching more than a dozen
      yards from the spot where he stood. Arriving at the snow-bridge,
      we examined it closely for signs of footmarks; it was, however,
      so hard that it baffled all our efforts.
       
      At the other side I explored the path which I myself had followed
      in the first instance. It, however, only led to a small shelter
      among the rocks and trees, where the natives had evidently been in
      the habit of lighting their fires and halting for the night. After
      continuing the search to another snow-bridge above, we returned
      to our camp, and made the sepoy issue a notice that twenty rupees
      reward would be given for the recovery of our cook, dead or alive,
      and also that a reward would be given to any person who should bring
      us any reliable information about him. At the same time we sent the
      notice to the villages below, and spread it as much as possible; but
      though twenty rupees would be a small fortune to one of these people,
      they took but little interest in the matter, and looked upon the whole
      thing as "Kismut," or destiny. "If it was the will of God that the
      body should be found, it would be found, if not, where was the use
      of looking for it;" and so they took no steps whatever in the matter.
       
      To add to the probabilities of the snow-bridge having been the
      cause of our loss, it appeared that a short time before, a coolie
      carrying Pushmeena &c. had fallen there, and had never since been
      heard of; while another, who had also fallen into the torrent, was
      only discovered six days afterwards miles and miles below.
       
      Having now despatched several searching parties, and received no
      tidings, we decided upon retreating to the next village down the
      valley, and halting there for a few days, in order to do all we could
      for our unfortunate man.
       
      SEPTEMBER 7. -- Started on our march again in heavy sleet and rain,
      which, higher up the mountains, took the form of downright snow. The
      valley descended by a slight incline, through fir and other forest
      trees, and about four kos down, we reached another little wooden
      city, where, being wet through and through, we were glad to halt,
      and getting a good fire lit in one of the log-houses, we set to work
      to dry our clothes. The house was reached by a most primitive ladder,
      made of half the trunk of a tree, hollowed out into holes for the
      feet; and, as for the shelter afforded by the tenement, it certainly
      kept off the rain, but was not intended to keep out the wind, for the
      trees which composed the walls were so far apart, that we could see
      the face of nature between them, and, in spite of the open windows,
      which the architect had thought necessary to provide the building with,
      the breeze whistled through the chinks in a way that might be very
      pleasant in hot weather, but was not so cheery when snow and rain was
      the order of the day. The roofs were the most novel structures I had
      ever seen. They consisted merely of rudely split blocks of wood, some
      five or six feet long, through the upper ends of which stout pegs had
      been driven, and, thus suspended, these weighty wooden tiles overlapped
      each other, and formed a rude covering, which, unpromising as it was to
      outward appearance, answered its purpose sufficiently well, and was at
      least quite in keeping with the remainder of the wooden mansion. The
      people here were something like the Cashmeerees in appearance, and
      as we descend into civilization, fowls, and other hitherto foreign
      animals begin to show themselves once more. The entire substitution
      of wood for mud and stones effectually marks the difference between
      the Cashmerian and Thibetian sides of the snowy range we had just
      crossed. About eight kos from Sucknez we reached Bragnion, where we
      found the camp pitched in a most promising position, having a fine
      view of the valley below, and the distant ranges of mountains. The
      torrent here spread itself into several channels, and the valley,
      widening to allow it fuller liberty to pursue its joyful existence,
      descended in a succession of wooded slopes, one beyond the other,
      while the eternal snows again bounded the view in the distance.
       
      The small portions of comparatively level ground in sight were
      covered with crops of the richest colours. One in particular, which
      the people called "gunhar," was of the hue of beetroot, and grew upon
      its stalk in heavy, gorgeous masses, which added considerably to the
      richness of the landscape. The seed of this consists of myriads of
      little semi-transparent white grains, very like ant's eggs, and the
      taste is something similar to that of wheat. Above our camp, in a
      ravine of the hills, is the place where an officer had been killed
      by the fall of an avalanche, while out on a shooting expedition. His
      companion, a noted sportsman, was saved, by making a tremendous jump;
      but he himself, and three shikarees, were swept away, their bodies
      not being recovered for two months afterwards.
       
      SEPTEMBER 8. -- After a cold night, during which I dreamt of our lost
      cook, we were awoke by a shout of "Jeeta hy!" -- "He is living!" then,
      "Rusta bhool gya!" -- "He lost his way!" and gradually it dawned upon
      us that the man we had fancied floating down the torrent a mangled
      corpse was still actually in the land of the living.
       
      It appeared that he had been discovered, sitting helplessly upon the
      mountain side, by a chance and solitary traveller from Thibet. He had
      lost his way at the snow-bridge, and, in trying to retrace his steps,
      completely got off the only track existing, and had consequently
      wandered about among the wood and cover as long as his strength
      enabled him.
       
      The accounts of his movements amid the general excitement were rather
      conflicting, but this being the fourth day since his disappearance,
      and the weather having been very bad all that time, he must have
      had a very narrow escape of his life, from the combined effects of
      cold and hunger. By the man's account who found him, he was so weak,
      that he was unable to eat the chupatties thrown across to him; and,
      his rescuer accordingly leaving with him some meal, and means to make a
      fire, came on to Sucknez, and from thence sent out a party to carry him
      in. Sending a horse and some supplies for him, we looked forward with
      some interest to his own account of his most unsought-for adventures.
       
      The villagers here, we found, were in the habit of making regular
      expeditions among their crops at night, to keep off the bears who
      prowl about in search of food. Armed with torches, they keep up
      a tremendous shouting all through the dark hours, during the time
      their grain is ripening; and thinking to get a daylight view of the
      robbers, I started up the mountain with a native guide and a rifle. My
      "sportsman," however, in spite of many promises, failed in showing
      me anything more savage than a preserve of wild raspberry-trees,
      on which I regaled with much satisfaction.
       
      A curious custom in the valley is that of hanging quantities of hay
      up among the branches of trees, and its object puzzled me immensely,
      till my guide informed me that in the winter the snow lies five and six
      yards in depth, and that the supplies of hay, which now look only meant
      for camel-leopards, are then easily reached by the flocks of sheep
      which abound in the valley. At present these were all collected among
      the mountains, to be out of the way of the harvest, and this accounts
      for the enormous herd we had seen while descending from the pass.
       
      SEPTEMBER 9. -- Found the sun brightly shining again this morning,
      and everything looking fresh and beautiful after the rain. The man
      who had gone with supplies to the cook returned with news that he was
      ill from the effects of cold and fasting, and not able to come on to
      us. While at breakfast, my yesterday's guide brought us in a bowl of
      raspberries, which gave pleasant token of the change from the desolate
      country we had recently passed through, to the land of plenty we had
      reached. We also got about eleven seers (22 lbs.) of virgin honey,
      for which we paid three rupees. While trying it for breakfast,
      a dense swarm of the original proprietors came looking for their
      stores, and the noise they made buzzing about, made one fancy they
      contemplated walking off bodily with the jars. In the evening our
      long-lost cook again returned to the bosom of his family. The poor
      creature looked regularly worn out. From the combined effects of snow
      and fire he was quite lame; his turban, most of his clothes, and all
      his small possessions, had vanished while struggling through the thick
      cover, and he himself had subsisted for two nights and three days,
      unsheltered and alone, upon nothing but tobacco and snow! On losing
      his way, not thinking of crossing the snow-bridge, he struck right
      up the mountain side, in search, first of the path, and afterwards
      of some hut or shelter. He then gradually got into thick and almost
      impervious cover; not a habitation of any sort was within miles of him,
      and thus he wandered about for two days and nights. On the third day
      he descended again towards the torrent, and, falling and stumbling,
      reached a rock on its bank, and there seating himself, was, by the
      merest chance, seen by the passing traveller from the other side
      of the torrent. Making signs that he was starving, this man threw
      him some chupatties, and these, wonderful to relate, the cook put
      in his pocket without touching. Supposing him to be either too weak,
      or else, even while starving, too strict a Hindoo to eat cooked food,
      his rescuer then threw him across some meal in his turban, and went
      off for assistance. The poor creature was rather proud, I think, to
      find himself the centre of attraction, as well as of being valued at
      twenty rupees; and, as he falteringly related his sorrows and escape
      from death, the coolies and the rest of the forces gathered round
      him, listening with wide open mouths to the wonderful narrative of
      his adventures.
       
      SEPTEMBER 10. -- Took another day's rest to give our unfortunate cook
      a little time to recover his energies. In the evening, the villagers
      produced us a couple of hives of honey, which we packed away in
      earthen jars for transport to the plains. The amount was 391/2 seers,
      or 79 lbs. for which we paid ten rupees.
       
      The unwillingness of the people to produce their honey the "Invincible
      One" accounted for by saying that they were afraid of OUR not paying
      them. On inquiry, however, the real cause turned out to be, that the
      Sepoy himself was in the habit of exacting a heavy tax on all purchases
      on our part, and fear of him, not us, was the true difficulty.
       
      In the evening, we took a tour through the village, and DISCOURSED,
      as well as we could, a native Zemindar, whom we found with his
      household around him, gathering in his crop of grain, which had been
      partially destroyed by the early snow. His land appeared to be about
      four acres in extent, and for this, he told us, he paid twelve rupees
      per annum to the Maharajah of Cashmere. He failed signally, however,
      in explaining how he produced that amount by his little farm. The
      produce of his land sufficed only to feed himself and his family,
      and the proceeds of the sale of wool, belonging to his twelve sheep,
      he estimated at only two rupees. Besides these, he possessed a few
      cows, and appeared as cheery and contented a landholder as I ever met,
      in spite of his losses by the snows, and his inability to make out,
      even by description, his ten rupees of ground-rent to the Maharajah.
       
      The crops around consisted chiefly of bearded wheat (kanuk), barley
      (jow), anik, tronba, and gunhar, all otherwise nameless; and also a
      small quantity of tobacco, turnips, and radishes.
       
      SEPTEMBER 11. -- Having with some difficulty procured a pony for the
      cook, we started again for Cashmere, and, after a very steep ascent,
      through woods of magnificent pine-trees, with every now-and-then a
      glorious peep of distant snow-peaks towering in the skies, we reached
      the summit of the peer, which separates the territory called Kushtwar
      from that of Cashmere. According to the "Invincible" authority, this
      territory belonged, some sixty years ago, to an independent Rajah,
      and, on his death without heirs or successors, it fell into the
      clutches of Gulab Singh.[31]
       
      The entire revenue, he stated, was 3,000 rupees. From the heights
      along our path, we could see the great glaciers of Dutchen, with its
      mountain peak of 25,000 feet, which we had been bound for when the
      misadventure of our cook interfered with our plans, and left us not
      sufficient time to carry out our explorations.
       
      The summit of the pass we found evidently not long freed from the old
      snow, while the new supply lay about in masses all over the mountain.
       
      Passing over a wild and marshy plain at the summit, we began to
      descend a lovely pine-clad valley once more into veritable Cashmere,
      and, about four P.M. encamped in a forest-clearing, which, in a very
      short space of time, was illuminated by no less than seven roaring
      campfires. Our own formed the centre, and was formed of a couple of
      entire pine-trunks, while the others were ranged about wherever a dry
      and prostrate tree presented a favourable basis for a conflagration. In
      the evening we enjoyed the warmth of our fires considerably, and
      discussed hot brandy and water seated on the very trees which formed
      our fuel. We were all the more inclined to appreciate our position,
      as we felt that we were nearly out of our cold latitudes, and rapidly
      descending to the land of dog days once again.
       
      SEPTEMBER 12. -- Continued our march down the valley, through continued
      wooded grassy scenes, and attended by a not too noisy torrent. About a
      kos from our halting place, we began again to see the wooden houses,
      and came to a halt at the picturesque little village of Nowbogh,
      where there were two roads branching off to Islamabad.
       
      Here we had a long wait for breakfast, the servants being overcome by
      the unaccustomed civilization and tobacco they met on the road. We
      accordingly set to work at our own kitchen fire, and breakfasted
      without further assistance off fried eggs, rice, and honey.
       
      In the evening we found alas! that a fire at our tent door, as we had
      had hitherto, was rather too hot to be pleasant. We were here visited
      by the local prodigy, a rustic carpenter, who insisted upon making
      something for us with his rather primitive-looking turning lathe. His
      shop I found completely AL FRESCO, between a couple of cows in the
      centre of a farm-yard, and here he set to work at a walnut cup, which
      he turned out creditably enough. The only thing against it was, that
      his lathe bored a hole right through the bottom of it, which spoiled
      the utensil a good deal for drinking out of. However, not at all taken
      aback, he plugged it up with a piece of stick, and at once requested
      the bukshish, which was the chief part of the performance. Like most
      of the Cashmeeries, he complained bitterly of the exactions of the
      Maharajah's government, and stated his own rent to amount to sixteen
      Huree Singh's rupees ([pound sterling]l) per annum. Not seeing how he
      could accumulate that sum, by even an entire year of work such as his,
      I took the liberty of disbelieving his assertion.
       
      SEPTEMBER 13. -- Started for Kukunath. Our path lay over a
      finely-wooded hill, from which we had a full view of the Peer Punjal
      range, now divested considerably of the snows which lay upon it at
      the time we started for Thibet.
       
      Gradually descending into the valley proper, we soon found ourselves
      once more among the waving rice-fields and apple-orchards, while
      the wooden tenements again gave way to mud and stone, and thatched
      erections. At a village called Sopru, we found some iron mines in
      working order, and passing Kundunath, a pretty little spot adorned
      with gardens of melons, pumpkins, sunflowers, &c., we shortly
      after reached Kukunath. Here we encamped close to a collection of
      bubbling crystal springs, which, bursting out of the hill side, and
      spreading into a dozen separate streams, took their course down to
      the innumerable fields of rice which they watered in their passage
      through the valley. To-day our little camp assumes quite a lively
      appearance again, three sheep and several fowls having been added
      to the farm-yard; these, together with three surviving ducks of the
      real original stock, and a wonderful white Thibetian cock, who owes
      his life entirely to his highly-cultivated vocal powers, strut about
      in front of the tent, and give an air of unwonted respectability
      to the scene. Two marches more take us to Islamabad, and it seems
      altogether about time that the present expedition should draw to a
      close. Supplies appear alarmingly low. Sugar out some days, brandy
      ditto, European boots worn out long ago, and both F. and myself living
      in grass shoes; clothes generally dilapidated, and decidedly dirty;
      servants very anxious for more tobacco and society, and everything, in
      fact, requiring rest and renovation after our seven weeks' wanderings.
       
      SEPTEMBER 14. -- Reached the picturesque little baraduree of
      Atchabull once more, after a pleasant march from Kukunath. Shortly
      after taking possession, a fresh arrival of Sahib's possessions and
      servants came in, the latter rather astonished to find the house
      occupied by such early birds. The owners turned out to be a colonel
      of the Bengal Artillery and a brother officer. These were almost our
      first acquaintances since starting, so that we were glad enough to
      fraternize and hear what was going on in the world. Two of our former
      boat's crew here also appeared, and gave us tidings of our rearguard
      and baggage. The latter had been ejected from its lodgings, and taken
      out for an airing on the river, having been visited by a flood caused
      by the melting of the snows shortly after our departure. The weather
      here began to be unpleasantly hot again; the disappearance of the
      snow from the mountains having removed the principal cause of the
      usual coolness in the valley.
       
      Dined with the white men under the spreading sycamores, and enjoyed
      the luxuries of bread, beer, and sugar in our tea, to all of which
      we had now been long unaccustomed.
       
      SEPTEMBER 15. -- A short march brought us to Islamabad, which we found
      unusually lively from the assembling of a host of pilgrims, who had
      come from far and wide for a religious fair at Mutton. The groups of
      different nations, and their manners and customs while bivouacking,
      were most picturesque, and served to amuse and interest us for the
      entire day.
       
      SEPTEMBER 16. -- Started early by boat, in the fond expectation
      of reaching Sirinugger in the evening. Dusk, however, found us no
      farther than the ruins of Wentipore, and we only reached the capital
      at daylight in the morning. Finding our old quarters vacant, we were
      soon located once more under a roof; and, fifty days having elapsed
      since we had seen either letter or paper, we lost no time in applying
      to the postal authorities for our expected accumulations and arrears
      of correspondence. This resulted in the production of twenty-seven
      epistles and eleven papers, which we carried home triumphantly in
      our boat, and proceeded forthwith to devour in that ravenous fashion
      only known and appreciated by such as have ever undergone a similar
      literary fast.
       
       
       
      Last Days of Travel.
       
      SEPTEMBER 30. -- For the last fifteen days we have been living
      once more the life of OTIUM CUM DIGNITATE common to the travelling
      Englishman in Cashmere. Basking in the sun, taking the daily row upon
      the river, eating fruit, and buying trash in the city, have been our
      principal occupations and amusements.
       
      About the 20th of the month an English general officer arrived, and was
      received with all honours, including a salute of heavy ordnance, which
      was happily unattended with loss of life or limb. A dance and grand
      review were also given in his honour; so that the arrival made quite
      a stir, and came fairly under the head of AN EVENT in the valley. At
      the review the Maharajah was decorated with unusual grandeur, and as he
      and his guest rode down the line together -- the latter in a plain blue
      frock, and the other in all his cloth of gold and jewelled splendour --
      never were simplicity and display more strikingly placed in contrast.
       
      The general's medals and crosses, however, appeared to have a greater
      interest and importance in the Maharajah's eyes than their intrinsic
      value could have commanded for them, and, during the marching
      past of "The Army," he kept continually poking his finger at them,
      and pointing them out to the courtiers who were gathered about his
      chair. The general, at the same time, was employed in explaining
      how many thousands the British Army consisted of, and how vastly
      superior it was to all other armies whatever, not even making an
      exception (as I thought he might fairly have done) in favour of the
      "Invincible Forces," then and there manfully throwing out their feet
      before him to the martial strains of "Home, sweet Home!" After the
      last of the army had marched past, the general, with an energy little
      appreciated by his friends in cloth of gold, jumped up, and, begging
      permission to manoeuvre the troops himself, went off to throw the
      unfortunate colonel commanding into a state of extreme consternation,
      and to frighten the few English words of command he was possessed of,
      fairly out of his head.
       
      In the early mornings my chief amusement had been to watch the colonel
      in question preparing both himself and his troops for the approaching
      spectacle, and very sensibly he went through the performance. He
      was arrayed on these occasions in the full dress of a green velvet
      dressing-gown, worn in the style affected by the FEROCIOUS RUFFIAN
      in small theatres, and, in place of a bugler, was accompanied by a
      pipe-bearer. This aide followed him over the battle-field, wherever
      the exigencies of the service required, and supplied him with whiffs
      of the fragrant weed to compose his nerves at intervals during the
      action. Their united efforts, however, although slightly irregular
      in appearance, were attended with full success, for, with the help
      of ten rounds of ammunition, the troops, even when handed over to the
      tender mercies of the "Foreign General" got through their ordeal very
      creditably; and, as they shot nobody, and did nothing more irregular
      than losing their shoes upon the field, the event passed off smoothly
      and pleasantly, and to the satisfaction of all concerned.
       
      Here we met an old Sikh acquaintance of the road, who informed me
      that he had taken service under the Maharajah. Next day he paid us
      a visit, by appointment, and expressed himself highly delighted with
      his entertainment; smoking and drinking, however, not being lawful in
      society to the Sikhs, we could do but little in the character of hosts,
      beyond letting him talk away to his heart's content, and with as little
      interruption as possible. He told us his entire life and history,
      in the worst of English, and we affected to understand the whole of
      the narration, which, perhaps, was as much as any host could have
      been called upon to do under the circumstances. The old gentleman's
      dress was extremely gorgeous, and contrasted rather strongly with
      our own woollen shooting-jackets and general exterior. He wore
      a turban of purest white, entwined in endless folds round a light
      green skull-cap; his waistcoat was of green velvet, embroidered,
      and richly bordered with gold. His pyjamas -- striped silk of the
      brightest hue -- fitted his little legs as tightly as needle and
      thread could make them, and his lady-like feet were encased in cotton
      socks and gold embroidered slippers. Over all this he wore a green and
      gold silk scarf of voluminous proportions, and of that comprehensive
      character which an Eastern scarf, and in Eastern hands, alone is
      capable of assuming. Round his wrists were massive gold bracelets,
      but of other trinkets he had few; and the enormous ear-rings, so
      usually worn by his race, were not among them. His long grey beard
      and almost white moustache were, perhaps, the only ornaments his
      fine old head required. The last time I had seen him, he was arrayed
      entirely in scarlet and gold, and he had, no doubt, a large reserve
      of dresses and jewellery; but, in spite of his tinsel and gilding,
      he appeared a perfect little Eastern gentleman, and the only one I
      had met as yet in our travels. After expressing a great desire to
      open a correspondence with us, which, considering the small number
      of topics we possessed in common, was rather a strange wish, the old
      gentleman and his retinue took their leave, and we had seen the last
      of Beer Singh Bahadur and his glorious apparel.
       
      OCTOBER 1. -- Busily employed to-day in packing away our possessions,
      and making final arrangements for again taking the road.
       
      Paid a visit to Saifula Baba, the shawl merchant, whose dignity was
      considerably upset by a cold in his head, and bought a few specimens
      of his trade, though not sufficient to raise his spirits entirely
      above the influenza. The approaching winter, and the evacuation of
      the territory by the principal rupee-spending community, seemed a
      source of great unhappiness to the sun and silver-loving natives.
       
      Their houses seem but badly adapted to keep out cold, and their
      efforts at heating them are frequently attended by the burning down
      of a whole nest of their wooden habitations.
       
      Their chief means of artificial warmth seems to be an earthenware
      jar covered with basket-work, which each native possesses and carries
      about with him wherever he goes.
       
      This, which is called a Kangree, is filled with charcoal, and,
      as the Cashmeerians squat down upon the ground, they tuck it under
      their long clothes, where, until they again rise, it remains hidden
      from sight, and forms a hot-air chamber under their garments.[32]
      Among other artists I discovered a native painter, rather an uncommon
      trade in these parts, from whom I obtained some original designs,
      illustrating, with uncommon brilliancy, the very common ceremonies
      of Hindoo and Mahomedan Shadees, or marriage processions, and other
      manners and customs of native life.
       
      After getting together everything we required for the road, and
      clearing out the whole of our possessions, much to the inconvenience of
      several large standing armies of fleas, we finally took our departure
      in two boats, manned by twelve boatmen, and started for Baramoula,
      on the road to Muree and the plains.
       
      OCTOBER 2. -- After making but little progress during the night, we
      discovered in the morning that our boats were rather too large for
      the river, in its present weakly and reduced state. Every ten minutes
      we found ourselves aground upon the sand and mud, and the cooking
      boat behind us followed our example, while the river ahead showed no
      prospect whatever of deepening. The Manjees, under the circumstances
      performed wonders in the nautical manoeuvring line. Jumping overboard
      incessantly, they called upon Peer Dustgeer, their favourite patron
      saint, to aid them in their difficulties, and shrieked and screamed
      till the whole place resounded with their cries.
       
      Sometimes the saints were stony-hearted, probably not being in a
      humour to be shouted at, and then the entire body of silky-skinned
      darkies would set to work, laughing and shouting, to clear away the
      bar of sand. Their paddles forming in this operation, very effective
      substitutes for spades and shovels, with much difficulty we reached
      the lake, and about nine o'clock arrived at Baramoula.
       
      Here the river ceases to be navigable, and abandons itself for a
      short time to irregular and wanton habits, before finally sowing its
      wild mountain oats, and becoming the staid and sedate Jhelum of the
      Plains. Unlike some rivers, the Jhelum contains more water in the
      middle of summer than at other times. Its principal resources are
      the snows, and these mighty masses are so wrapped up in their own
      frigid magnificence that it requires a good deal of warm persuasion
      from the sun to melt their icy hearts to tears.
       
      OCTOBER 3. -- Took the road once more, and started for Muree. Our
      train was increased by a couple of volunteer native travellers,
      who were glad of our society in order that they might get clear of
      the Maharajah's dominions with as little questioning as possible. Our
      coolies numbered twenty-six, so that altogether our forces now reached
      to thirty-eight. After a fine march, we halted at Nowshera, where the
      dashing river afforded us an exciting swim before breakfast. Coming out
      of the water, however, I had the ill luck to slip upon a treacherous
      rock, and, falling heavily on my side, and so over into the rapid
      stream, had some difficulty in fishing myself out again, and was very
      near taking an unpleasantly short cut to the Plains. In the evening,
      when the cook came to inspect the larder for dinner, it was discovered,
      that, with an unusual want of presence of mind, a newly-killed sheep
      had been left by mistake in the boats for the benefit of the already
      overpaid boatmen. This was the third animal we had lost, from various
      causes, during our travels, and the mishap most seriously affected
      the success of our dinner arrangements for the day.
       
      OCTOBER 4. -- Found great difficulty in getting up this morning
      after my fall, and still more in walking three miles, which I had
      to do before finding a pony. The view was beautiful the whole way;
      but we had been so gorged with scenery of all sorts and kinds,
      that rugged passes, shady dells, waterfalls, &c., however precious
      they may become in future recollection, were almost thrown away
      upon us for the time being. Breakfasted under the pine trees, near
      an ancient temple, and halted at Uree, where there was a baraduree
      for travellers. Except, however, to very dirty travellers indeed,
      it would be of little use. While descending a very steep part of
      the road, my saddle suddenly slipped over the pony's round little
      carcase on to his neck, and, NOLENS VOLENS, I came to the ground,
      the pony remaining in a position very nearly perpendicular, with
      his tail towards the heavens and his head between my legs, in which
      predicament he luckily remained perfectly quiet, until the bhistie,
      coming up behind, set us both on our proper extremities once more.
       
      OCTOBER 5. -- Started for Chukothee, and thinking, in an evil moment,
      to walk off the effects of my late mishap, I essayed the fifteen
      miles on foot.
       
      Long before reaching half way, however, I began to look about for
      anything in the shape of a pony, that might appear in sight; but,
      none being forthcoming, I was obliged to finish as I had begun, and
      at last reached our destination, a snug little village, buried in
      fields of yellow rice upon the hill-side. On the way, I fell in with
      a fine old Mussulman Zemindar, trudging along on his return to Delhi,
      from paying a visit to Sirinugger.
       
      Being an unusually talkative old gentleman, we fraternized by the way,
      and he told me that he had been to see the civil commissioner of his
      district, now acting as commissioner in the valley, to make his salaam,
      relative to a "jageer," or Government grant of certain villages to the
      amount of some three thousand rupees per annum, which he had succeeded
      in obtaining on account of his loyalty during the recent mutiny.
       
      Of this three thousand rupees, it appeared that only one thousand
      would come into his own pocket, the remainder being payable as rent,
      &c. to Government.
       
      His son had also a jageer of twelve thousand rupees, so that both he
      and his family were loyal and well to do in the world. His ideas of
      Cashmere were rather amusing. He appeared to think it a miserable spot
      enough, compared to his own land, and the only advantage he could hit
      upon, was, in my estimation, quite the reverse, viz: THAT SIRINUGGER
      WAS VERY HOT IN THE MIDDLE OF SUMMER.
       
      The rice he had a supreme contempt for. It was not to be compared
      with the Indian rice, and the Cashmeeries he pooh-poohed, as being
      no judges whatever of its qualities, and, in fact; not fit to eat
      rice at all. He seemed quite unable to understand my walking when I
      could ride; or, indeed, why I should leave such a charming country
      as India to be uncomfortable in Cashmere, without even having any
      jageer business to transact as an excuse.
       
      Our coolies, being an unusually miserable crew, we got breakfast about
      two P.M. To-day our tent lamp finished its erratic life, according to
      the Dhobie's account, by self-destruction! That good for nothing piece
      of charcoal had, however, doubtless dashed the solid cut-glass globe,
      which formed the chief glory of the instrument, against a rock, while
      thinking of his hubble bubble, and his little blackamoors at home.
       
      The lamp had got over all the difficulties of the road from Lahore to
      Ladak and back, and had been quite a peep-show to half the natives of
      Thibet, who were never tired of regarding their multiplied countenances
      in the numerous cut circles of the glass shade, so that we felt quite
      grieved at its melancholy loss. Our water bottle also to-day finished
      its existence, and the table came into camp a bundle of sticks;
      so that everything seemed to betoken the approaching dissolution of
      the expedition. The farm-yard consists of five ducks, all strangers,
      and a pet sheep, and the khiltas look haggard and dilapidated in the
      extreme. The musical cock, alone, of old friends still survives,
      but he appears in weak health, and his constitution is evidently
      undermined by the changes of climate it has undergone. We were here
      worried by a party of strolling mountebanks from the Punjab, who
      persisted in horrifying us by making two young girls and three boys,
      all apparently entirely destitute of bones, stand upon their heads,
      and go through similar performances on the grass. The girl actually
      pattered a measure with her feet upon the back of her head, and
      the proprietors seemed utterly unable to account for our apathetic
      disregard of so extremely talented and interesting a performance.
       
      OCTOBER 6. -- Left for Hutteian, about fifteen miles off. Ponies
      being scarce, I had to walk part of the way; but the sepoy, pitching
      by chance upon our friends, the Punjabees, triumphantly carried
      off a stout little animal of theirs for my use. Before mounting,
      however, I was mobbed by the tumbling family, EN MASSE, who went on
      their knees in their solicitations to be exempt from the seizure
      of their property. Finding me obdurate in retaining the pony at a
      fair valuation, with "the army" to bear me out, they proceeded to
      diplomatic measures to gain their end. First, a very small child,
      choosing a stony place in the path, suddenly stood upon her head,
      and proceeded to form black knots with her body. Finding that this
      only caused me to threaten her father with a stick, they produced
      a blind girl, who threw herself half naked at my feet and cried
      by order. The poor creature had lost her sight by the small-pox,
      and I had remarked her the day before patiently toiling over rocks
      and broken paths with one little child in her arms, and another half
      leading, half obstructing her, endeavouring to guide her footsteps
      down the rocks. She, however, got no immediate benefit from the pony
      of contention; so, giving her some money to console her in her forced
      misery, I still remained inexorable. After this, the encampment broke
      up, with all its pots and pans, cows and fowl, &c. and took to the
      road, leaving me in undisturbed possession of my new conveyance. The
      weather began to astonish us a little to-day, by a renewed accession of
      October heat. Still the climate was delightful. Morning and evenings
      always cool, and sometimes cold, and a bright cheery blue invariably
      over head, while a refreshing breeze made music through the pine trees,
      and waved the golden ears of rice.
       
      Encamped under a spreading sycamore, at the junction of two mountain
      streams. To-day a new order of bridge appeared, consisting merely of
      a single rope, the passengers being tugged across in a basket. From
      its appearance it was rather a matter of congratulation that we were
      not called upon to cross it.
       
      OCTOBER 7. -- Being Sunday, we made a halt, and enjoyed a refreshing
      bathe in the stream, and a rest from the toils of the road.
       
      OCTOBER 8. -- Left "Hutteian," and, winding along the valley,
      arrived, by a steep ascent, at Chukar, a little village boasting a
      fort and a small nest of Sepoys. It also owned a curiously DIRTY,
      and consequently SAINTLY Fukeer, whom we found sitting bolt upright,
      newly decorated with ashes, and with an extremely florid collection
      of bulls, demons, &c. painted about the den he occupied. On the road
      I again picked up the old Mussulman, who seemed delighted to chat,
      and gave me an account of the part he had played in the mutiny.
       
      He appeared frequently to have warned his Commissioner that an outbreak
      was about to take place, but without his crediting the story; and when
      it actually did occur, the latter fled from his station at Lahore,
      and took shelter with a friendly Risaldar until the storm should blow
      over. From thence he sent for the old gentleman, my informant, and
      "Imam Buksh" forthwith mounted his camel and came with five and twenty
      armed followers to his assistance. While here, a party of rebels came
      searching for English, and Mr. Buksh narrated how he went forth to
      meet them, and proclaimed, that they might kill the Englishman if they
      would, but must first dispose not only of himself, but also of his
      five and twenty followers. Upon this they abused him, and asked him,
      "What sort of a Mussulman he called himself?" and denounced him as a
      "Feringee," or foreigner.
       
      The rebels, however, finally went off, and the Commissioner and his
      family, by Imam Buksh's further assistance, succeeded in escaping
      all the dangers of the times. For this service it was that the old
      gentleman had just received his jageer of two villages, now some
      years after the occurrence of the events.
       
      He appeared to think very little of the Maharajah's rule, and
      was of opinion that the people were miserably oppressed, paying,
      by his account, two thirds of the produce of their lands to the
      Government. This was in kind, but, where the revenue was taken in coin,
      a produce of about fourteen pounds of grain was subject to a tax of
      two rupees. On the subject of the cause of the mutiny in India, he
      said that greased cartridges certainly had nothing to do with it; for
      the rest, why, "It was the will of God, and so it happened." To induce
      him to argue on the POSSIBILITY of the mutiny having been successful,
      I found to be out of the question. "It was the power of God which
      had prevented the rebels from gaining over us, and, in the name of
      the Holy Prophet and the twelve Imams, how then could it have been
      otherwise?" As to the probability, however, of there being another
      mutiny, he admitted that he thought there would be one, but that, as
      long as we maintained justice, no other power could hold the country
      against us. On my asking him if we did not maintain justice in the
      land, he said no, and adduced the fact that in every case brought
      before the courts an enormous amount of bribery goes on among the
      Rishtidars, and other understrappers, whereby the man with most money
      wins his cause. No Englishman, he thought, could take a bribe, but he
      seemed to be under the impression that those in authority were aware of
      the system being carried on by those beneath them. He admitted that he
      knew of one native who would not take a bribe! and dwelt largely on the
      subject, as if it were a wonderful fact, which I have no doubt it was.
       
      In the evening we presented Mr. Imam Buksh with some of our sheep,
      which delighted his heart immensely, and he spent the entire evening in
      cooking and eating it, together with a perfect mountain of chupatties,
      which he manufactured with great care and deliberation.
       
      OCTOBER 9. -- Left our camp very early, and had a sharp ascent up the
      mountains. A considerable descent again, brought us to the village
      of Mehra, where we pitched our tents, once more within sight of the
      territories of India.
       
      OCTOBER 10. -- Marched into Dunna, our last halting-place in
      Cashmere. It is situated nearly at the summit of the frontier range
      of hills, and commanded a most extensive view of the mountains of
      Cashmere and Cabul, besides those on the Indian side.
       
      OCTOBER 11. -- Took a last fond glance towards "the valley," and
      descended by a very steep and difficult path to the river Jhelum,
      which forms the boundary between the two territories. Here a couple
      of queerly-shaped, rudely-constructed boats, with two huge oars
      apiece, one astern and one at the side, formed the traveller's flying
      bridge. Into one of these the whole of our possessions and coolies,
      &c. were stowed, and we commenced the passage of the stream.
       
      This we managed by, in the first instance, coasting up the bank for
      several hundred yards, and then striking boldly into the current;
      and it was amusing to see our well-crammed boat suddenly drawn into
      the rapid stream and whisked and whirled about like a straw, while a
      nice calculation on the part of the skipper, and a good deal of rowing
      and shouting on that of the sailors, enabled us to touch the opposite
      shore not very far below the point from which we had started. One
      last lingering look at Cashmerian ground, a step over the side, and
      we were once more standing upon the territories of Queen Victoria,
      and in the burning land of India -- happily, however, still six days'
      journey from the Plains.
       
      OCTOBER 12. -- Marched up the spur of the Muree Hill to Dewul,
      where we found a room in a mud fort converted into a halting-place
      for travellers, reached by a series of break-neck ladders, and
      looking very much like a cell in a prison, with its two chairs
      and clumsy wooden table. Here we found a little amusement in the
      arrival of the Chota Sahib, or "small gentleman," -- otherwise
      the Assistant Civil Commissioner of the district, -- to review the
      fort and its dependencies. On the first tidings of his approach,
      the Thanadar immediately turned out the entire garrison, consisting
      of twelve military policemen, called "Burqundaz," or "Flashers of
      lightning!" These soon appeared in their full dress of crimson turbans
      and yellow tights, and, shouldering their "flint-locks," proceeded to
      perform a series of intricate evolutions, by way of practice for the
      rapidly-approaching inspection. When the great little man did arrive,
      there was, we thought, a good deal of irregularity among the troops,
      such as laughing in the ranks and treading on toes, &c. However,
      the only point the inspecting officer dwelt upon was the absence of
      uniformity in dress, caused by the deficiency of two pairs of yellow
      tights among the lightning flashers, otherwise he appeared perfectly
      satisfied, and all went off well. After his review he invited himself
      to our dinner-party, and honoured our repast with the further addition
      of a kid stew. He turned out to be one of the ex-Company's officers,
      a subaltern of eighteen years' service, FIFTEEN of which had been
      spent away from his regiment on the staff. He was with his corps,
      however, when it mutinied, and escaped without much difficulty. The
      unfortunate colonel of the regiment, finding that none of his men
      would shoot him, had done so with his own hand. He gave it as his
      opinion that the cartridges WERE the cause of the mutiny; but allowed
      that his regiment was in a bad state of discipline some time before,
      and that all the native corps were known to be disaffected years
      before the event occurred, both by the officers present and those
      absent upon staff employ. Altogether, after the Chota Sahib had
      thoroughly discussed both the mutiny and the dinner, we were left
      under the impression that there was quite sufficient cause for the
      disaffection of the Bengal army without ever arriving at the vexed
      question of greased cartridges at all.
       
      OCTOBER 13. -- Marched early into the Hill Station of Muree. Not being
      yet quite in walking trim, I had pressed a mule into the service,
      who carried me in good style as far as the entrance to the town. Here,
      however, he seemed suddenly to remember that we had each a character
      to support, and, stopping short, he utterly refused to budge another
      step. Not being willing even to be led, I finally abandoned him to
      his own devices, and walked on to the Commandant's bungalow, where
      I found my companion already hospitably received, and comfortably
      seated at breakfast, discussing kidneys and beefsteaks, and such like
      unwonted delicacies of the Muree season.
       
      After getting somewhat over the novelty and discomfort of being again
      in a house with doors and glass windows, and other inconveniences,
      we sallied out to inspect the station.
       
      Like its CONFRERES of the Hills -- Simla, Kussowlie, &c. Muree was
      a prettily-situated little settlement, with houses scattered about
      entirely according to the freaks and fancies of the owners, and with
      utter disregard of all system whatever. The Mall was a fine one,
      and its gaily-dressed frequenters, in jhampans and palkees, &c. were
      of the unmistakeable stamp of Anglo India in the Hills. Two or three
      of the ladies, however, were bold enough to walk, and looked none
      the worse for being divorced from their almost inseparable vehicles,
      and unattended by their motley crowd of red, and green, and variegated
      bearers.
       
      OCTOBER 14. -- Spent a quiet day among the hospitalities of Muree, and
      became gradually accustomed to CITY LIFE. Going to church seemed rather
      a strange process, and the building itself was but a bad exchange
      for the grander temples which we had frequented for so many Sundays.
       
      OCTOBER 15. -- Laid our dak by doolie to Lahore, and, with our
      hospitable entertainer to guide us, started at five P.M. by a short
      cut, to meet our new conveyances.
       
      Reaching the main road, we once more packed ourselves away in our
      boxes, and, the sun soon setting his last for us upon the Cashmere
      mountains, left us to make our way down to the miserable plains as
      fast as the flaring and spluttering light of a couple of pine torches
      would allow our bearers to patter along.
       
      From this, until we reach Lahore, we are accompanied by an incessant
      shuffle shuffle of naked feet through the dusty road; jabbering and
      shouting of blacks, flickering of torches, bumping of patched and
      straining doolies against mounds of earth, glimpses of shining naked
      bodies, streaming with perspiration, as they flit about, and the whole
      enveloped in dense and suffocating clouds of dust, which penetrate
      everything and everywhere, and soon become, in fact, a part of one's
      living breathing existence; occasionally, outstripping our procession,
      a vision passes, like the glimmer of a white strip of linen, a
      stick, and a black and polished body, it rushes by like the wind,
      and disappears in the gloom of dust and night, and, in a second, her
      Majesty's mail has passed us on the road! As we near the plains this
      vision undergoes a slight change, and takes the form of an apparition
      of two wild horses tearing away with a red and almost body-less cart;
      this also goes by like a flash, but gives more notice of its coming,
      and our torches, for a second, light up the figure of a wild huntsman,
      with red and streaming turban, who sits behind the steeds and blows a
      defiant blast at us as he also vanishes into the darkness. About seven
      miles from Muree, we halted for dinner, and made renewed acquaintance
      with that interesting object -- the Indian roadside chicken.
       
      OCTOBER 16. -- Arrived early at Rawul Pindee, and breakfasted at
      seven, apparently off guttapercha and extract of sloe leaves. On
      again immediately, and reached Gugerkhan bungalow at seven P.M. hot,
      apoplectic, and saturated with dust.
       
      The room smells thoroughly of the plains; an odour, as it were,
      of punkhas, mosquitoes, and mustiness, not to be found elsewhere,
      and entirely unexplainable to uninitiated sufferers.
       
      The chicken, whose "fate had been accomplished," died as we entered
      the yard, and was on the table in the fashion of a warm SPREAD EAGLE
      in fifteen minutes! After this delicacy is duly discussed, the doolies
      are emptied of dust, the bedding laid down, and jolt, jolt, creak,
      creak, grunt, grunt, on we go again, until sleep good-naturedly
      comes to make us oblivious of all things. The kahars, or bearers,
      however, take a different view of life, and at every relief a crowd
      of sniggering darkies assemble, on both sides, with applications for
      bukshish. At first one hears, "Sahib, Sahib!" in a deprecating tone
      of voice, mindful of sudden wakings of former Sahibs, sticks, and
      consequent sore backs, then piu forte, "Sahib!" crescendo, "Sahib,
      Sahib!" and then at last, in a burst of harmony, "Sahib purana Baira
      kutch bukshish mil jawe?"[33] and the miserable doolie traveller, who
      has been, probably, feigning sleep in sulky savageness for the last
      ten minutes, makes a sudden dive through the curtains with a stick, an
      exclamation is heard very like swearing, only in a foreign language,
      and the troop of applicants vanish like a shot, keeping up, however,
      a yelping of Sahibs, and Purana Bairas, and Bukshishs, until the new
      bearers get fairly under weigh, and have carried their loads beyond
      hearing. None but those who have been woken up in this manner from a
      comfortable state of unconsciousness, to the full realities of doolie
      travelling in Indian heat and dust, can form an idea of the trial
      it is to one's temper; and, from my own feelings, together with the
      sounds I hear from my companion's direction, I can testify as to the
      relief that the use of foreign expletives affords under the affliction.
       
      OCTOBER 17. -- Arrived at Jhelum about eight A.M. to all intents and
      purposes dust inside and out. Flesh and blood can stand no more for the
      present, and we resolve to halt here for the day. The weather appears
      quite as hot as when we started, and the wind comes in, hot and dry,
      and makes one feel like a herring of the reddest; while an infernal
      punkha is creaking its monotonous tune, as it flaps to and fro in the
      next room, making one again realize to the full, "the pleasures of the
      plains." We begin, in fact, to discover that the thorns which were not
      forthcoming on the Cashmere roses are too surely to be found elsewhere.
       
      OCTOBER 18. -- Reached Goojerat at cock-crow; thus completing
      a distinct circle of travel through Bimber, Sirinugger, Ladak,
      Kushtwar, Muree, and back to our present halting-place, from whence
      we had originally branched off.
       
      OCTOBER 19. -- A dusty night's work brought us at two A.M. to
      Goojerwala. Here we found that there was no bungalow between us and
      Lahore, and, consequently, no chance of either a wash or breakfast
      should we go on; we therefore chose loss of time in preference to
      loss of breakfast, with the addition of a day under a broiling sun,
      and halted until the authorities should awake to feed us.
       
      OCTOBER 20. -- Reached Lahore before sunrise, and got our letters
      and papers from the post once more. Afterwards we laid our dak for
      Cawnpore, and made all arrangements for a start in the evening.
       
      OCTOBER 21. -- Arrived at Umritsur about three A.M., and remained in
      our coaches until sunrise, when we set off for a stroll through the
      city. This we found the cleanest, if not the only clean, town we had
      seen since landing in India. The streets were well drained and built,
      and were guarded by a force of yellow-legged, red-turbaned Punjabee
      policemen, who were provided, like their brother blue-bottles at home,
      with staves and rattles instead of the more usual insignia of sword
      and shield. The houses were almost all decorated, outside and in, with
      grotesque mythological and other paintings, such as Vishnu annihilating
      Rakshus, or demons of various kinds, or wonderful battle-pieces,
      wherein pale-faced, unhealthy-looking people, in tailed coats and
      cocked hats, might be seen performing prodigies of valour, assisted
      by bearded and invincible Sikh warriors of ferocious exterior. The
      shops were built with verandahs, and the piazza character of some of
      the streets, in conjunction with the unusual cleanliness, gave one a
      very agreeable impression of Umritsur and its municipal corporation,
      whoever that body may be. The inhabitants are principally Sikhs,
      fine-looking men generally, with long beards turned up at either
      side of their faces, and knotted with their hair under the voluminous
      folds of their turbans.
       
      OCTOBER 22. -- Out at four A.M. to explore the great durbar, or
      head-quarters of the Sikh religion in the Punjab. Entering through a
      highly decorated archway in the kotwalee, or police station, we came
      upon an enormous tank, with steps descending into the water on all
      sides, and planted around with large and shady trees. In the centre
      of this rose the temple of the Sikhs, a light-looking, richly-gilt
      edifice, the lower part of which was constructed of inlaid stones upon
      white marble. From this to one side of the tank, a broad causeway
      led, decorated with handsome railings, and lamps of gilt-work upon
      marble pedestals. Along this, crowds of people were passing to and
      fro, arrayed in every possible variety of costume and colour. Sikhs,
      Hindoos, Mussulmen -- men, women, and children, crowded together like
      bees in a hive. Round the edges of the tank were handsome buildings,
      minarets, &c. with trees and gardens attached to them; and that,
      towards the causeway, was divided in two by a fine and richly-decorated
      archway, in the upper part of which a party of patriarchal old Sikhs
      were squatted on their haunches, discoursing the affairs of the
      nation. This whole scene opened upon our view at a glance. The sun
      had as yet scarcely appeared over the horizon, and the reflection
      of its light shone faintly upon the gold-work and ornaments of the
      central building, tipping it and the lofty minarets with rosy light,
      whilst the rest of the buildings remained shrouded in the morning
      haze. With the incessant bustle of the thronging, brightly-vestured
      crowd, and the accompaniment of the wild discordant tom-toming of a
      band of turbaned musicians, it formed a scene which almost persuaded
      one to put once more confidence in the brightly-coloured descriptions
      of the "Arabian Nights." While waiting for sun-rise, we ascended one
      of the minarets, from which we had a curious bird's-eye view of the
      tank and surrounding city at our feet, while the plains lay stretching
      away before us; the horizon level and unbroken, as if it bounded in
      the ocean. From this we had also a private view of the manners and
      customs of the natives. Just below us was an early morning scene in
      the life of a Sikh gentleman. He was sitting up in his "four-leg,"
      on the open court of an upper story, which formed his bed-room,
      while his attendants were offering him his morning cup of coffee,
      and otherwise attending to his wants. In one corner, another Sikh
      gentleman, with one arm, was having a brass vessel of water poured
      over him, and a number of similar vessels stood upon a sort of rack,
      ready for the master of the house to have his bath.
       
      Scattered about the foot of the bed, which had a grandly decorated
      canopy, was a deputation of white-robed Sikhs paying their morning
      visit, or having an audience upon some matter of business. These by
      degrees got up and went out, each making a profound salaam as he passed
      the bed. One of them only, the old man called back, and with him, as
      he sat upon the "four-leg," he had a long and confidential talk. This
      evidently was the medical adviser, and, judging by the dumb-show of
      the interview which ensued, the Sikh, as evidently, was the victim
      of a cold in his fine old nose, which he had doubtless caught from
      sleeping in the open air. After this we repaired to the kotwallee
      again, and, getting a pair of slippers in exchange for our boots,
      descended to the durbar and mingled with the crowd.
       
      Although we were inadmissible in boots, no objection whatever appeared
      to be made to the entrance of Brahminee bulls; for we found a number
      of them walking about the mosaic pavement with as much confidence
      and impunity as if the place belonged to them.
       
      In the building we found a collection of Sikh padres, or "gooroos,"
      sitting behind a massive volume richly cased in cloth of gold and
      silver, while squatted around under a canopy, were the Sikh faithful,
      offering their presents of cowries, chupatties, balls of sweetmeats,
      and showers of yellow and white necklaces of flowers. The book was the
      original law of Gooroo Gurunth Sahib, which they had just finished
      reading, and, as we entered, they were commencing to cover it up
      again, which they did, with great pomp and ceremony, in a number of
      cloths of various patterns, after which they distributed the votive
      offerings among themselves and the people present, and held a sort of
      banquet over the sweets and flowers. In the midst of the proceedings,
      a very fine specimen of the race of Fukeer came in, and presenting
      an offering of the smallest, laid his head upon the ground before the
      book, and, without a word, took himself off again. He was girt round
      the loins with a yellowish-red cloth; his body, from head to foot,
      was covered with ashes. The hair of his head was matted together in
      strips, like the tail of an uncared cow, and reached to his waist. A
      shallow earthen pot was his hat, and over his shoulders hung two large
      gourds, suspended by a cord, while in his hand he carried a long staff,
      covered over with stuff of the same kind as that round his waist. Such
      was the figure which entered among the gaily-dressed multitude in the
      saintly durbar; and, although to the assembled people there appeared
      nothing whatever either strange or unusual in the arrival, to us,
      who were looking on, the contrast between the unclad dirty mendicant,
      and the pure white vestments of the Sikhs around, rendered it a most
      striking and remarkable apparition.
       
      On entering, he had removed the earthen pot which formed his hat, and,
      one of the two gourds which were round his shoulders having fallen to
      the ground in the act, it was amusing to see him pause for a second,
      and anxiously examine whether any compound fracture had taken place
      in the precious article of his very limited dinner service. One
      extremity of the building we found was occupied for Hindoo worship;
      so that fraternity and equality, worthy of imitation seems to be
      the order of the day among the religions of Umritsur. The interior
      was richly decorated with gilding and mirrors, &c., but was little
      worthy of remark in comparison with the richness of the exterior
      effect. Presenting a "bukshish" to the expectant padres who guarded
      the sacred book, we left them to their devotions, and betook ourselves
      once more to our bungalow.
       
      OCTOBER 23. -- Travelling all night, we reached Jullunder at six
      A.M., and, after breakfast, again started for Loodianah, where we
      dined. We here again crossed the Sutlej, but, the water being low,
      boat navigation was dispensed with, and a shaky bridge, and about
      two miles of sandy river-bed, completed the passage.
       
      At Loodianah we were stormed by a host of merchants, with pushmeena
      and other soft matters, who were rather disappointed at finding we
      had come from the birth-place of such like manufactures. Some of the
      local shawls, however, or "Rampore chudders," were beautifully fine
      and delicate, and seemed worthy of inspection.
       
      OCTOBER 24. -- Reached Umballa at eight A.M., and started again
      shortly after. Our horses to-day were most miserable caricatures,
      and it was with difficulty we managed to progress at all. The last
      stage was accomplished at a walk; and what with this and the delay
      caused by a couple of sandy river-beds, we only reached Kurnaul at
      ten P.M. The miserable condition of the horses was accounted for
      by the enormously high price of grain and the absence of grass,
      in consequence of the want of rain. The general topic, in fact,
      is now the failure of the rains, and consequent apprehensions of a
      famine throughout the land. "Atar" is here eight seers the rupee, or
      in other words, flour sells at one shilling and ninepence a stone --
      an enormous price in these parts.
       
      OCTOBER 25. -- Sunrise found us still half-way to Delhi, and we
      stopped to breakfast at the little bungalow of Ghureekulla. Here we
      found a fine old Khansaman, who gave us an account of the incidents
      of the Mutiny which came under his notice. He had received a flying
      party of two hundred men, women, and children, who arrived at dead of
      night, some on horses, some on foot, and all worn and haggard by their
      march from Delhi, from which they had escaped. These he took care of,
      and supplied with food until the following day, when they departed,
      without, by his own account, giving him anything, either as pay or
      reward. He afterwards assisted others also, and received about one
      hundred and twenty rupees, one way or another, for his services. At
      present he receives six rupees a month, with whatever he can pick up
      from travellers; not a very large amount in the out-of-the-way little
      jungle station of Ghureekulla.
       
      OCTOBER 26. -- Passed through Delhi by moonlight, and reached the
      bungalow at one A.M. At gun-fire we emerged from our locomotives,
      and went to explore the king's palace. In spite of the late lesson on
      the subject of sepoys, we found the gates of the fort held entirely
      by native guards, and a very small body of Europeans located within
      the walls. After rambling through the place, and discovering that
      its only beauty lay at present in its exterior, we went to the Jama
      Musjid, a fine mosque of red granite, inlaid in parts with white
      marble. The cupolas, of great size, were entirely marble, and the
      minarets, also of marble, were closely inlaid. The place had been
      only recently handed over to the Moslems after its late seizure,
      and was not as yet used for worship. Ascending one of the minarets,
      we had a fine view of the city of the Great Mogul dynasty, with its
      minarets and ornamented streets; and in the distance we could discern
      the positions occupied by our besieging force, when the last of the
      kings was brought so rudely to the termination of his reign.
       
      OCTOBER 27. -- Reached Koel, or Allyghur, at eight A.M. Started again
      at five, stopping on the way to inspect the Jama Musjid, and a very
      fine old tower, probably of Buddhist or Jain origin, which was covered
      over with ancient inscriptions. Just as the Muezzin was calling to
      evening prayer, we again resumed our monotonous order of travel,
      and branched off towards Agra to visit the famous Taj Mahul.
       
      OCTOBER 28. -- Reached Agra at two A.M., and finding the bungalow full,
      had to go to the hotel. At sunrise we drove out to the Taj, and here,
      I think, for the first time, we were not disappointed in the difference
      between reality and description. The entrance to the gardens in which
      the Taj is situated was beautiful in itself, but one sight of the
      main building left no room for admiration of anything besides.
       
      It is situated on the banks of the Jumna, with a fine view of the
      magnificent fort, with its mosque and minarets, and is entirely of
      pure white marble, inlaid with stones into shapes of flowers and
      arabesques, &c. At each corner rises a white marble minaret, like a
      pillar of snow, beautifully decorated and carved, but unsullied by a
      single line of any other colour whatever. The interior is profusely
      inlaid with minute stones of considerable value, and is lit by carved
      marble windows of the most beautiful design imaginable. In the centre,
      surrounding the tomb of Mumtaz and her lord, is a marvellous white
      marble screen, in the form of a polygon, carved like perforated ivory,
      and also inlaid with minute stones of every shape and colour.[34]
      The queen, in whose honour the tomb was built, occupies the very
      centre of the enclosure, Shah Jehan's tomb being on one side of it,
      and larger in size, which rather spoils the symmetry of the space.
       
      Exactly underneath the tombs, in the main body of the building,
      one descends to a marble vault, where there are two others precisely
      similar in shape, but without any inscription or ornament whatever,
      and under these latter the mortal remains of the famous Shah Jehan
      and Mumtaz repose in peace. Over the queen's tomb, in the very centre
      of the interior, a single ostrich egg was suspended by an almost
      invisible thread, probably to shadow forth something of the meaning
      of the "Resurgam" affixed to monuments elsewhere. On either side,
      without the mausoleum, are two buildings facing inwards, one of which
      is a mosque, built in red granite and white marble; and the whole are
      profusely ornamented with carvings in marble, which would take an age
      to examine thoroughly, and which produce an effect quite incapable
      of being adequately portrayed by either pen or pencil.
       
      In one of these edifices, among the inlaid work and arabesques,
      and not far from the mortal remains of the departed King and Queen,
      we found a curious and interesting inscription, which seems to have
      been hitherto unmentioned by the many travellers who have visited
      the sacred spot. It was prominently placed and easily decipherable,
      being in unusually large letters, and in that character which might
      be called the "UNEIFORM," of which so many valuable specimens exist
      in all parts of the known globe.
       
      It ran thus : --
       
       
      IN MEMORY OF VALENTINE'S DAY.
       
       
      The sentence appeared unfinished, and one or two words were probably
      required to complete the sense, but from similar existing records
      there could be no difficulty in filling in the missing syllables.
       
      It was curious, however, to reflect what the feeling could have been
      that stayed the writer's hand, and prevented him from finishing his
      graceful tribute to the mighty dead.
       
      Mumtaz, from whose name the word "Taj" is derived (the letter "z"
      being incapable of being pronounced by many natives except as a
      "j"),was the daughter of the famous Noor Jehan's brother Asoph
      Khan. Shah Jehan followed his queen in A.D. 1665, and was laid in the
      building which he had himself originally designed in her honour alone.
       
      With Noor Jehan and Jehangeer the case was reversed. The conqueror
      of the world ended his career in A.D. 1627, and the partner of all
      his Cashmerian wanderings, and many adventures, who wore no colour
      but white after his death, finally rejoined him in a tomb which she
      had raised to his memory at Lahore.
       
      Having paid due homage to the beauty of the far-famed mausoleum, we
      went to the Fort, and, after visiting the Ram Bagh, the Ikmam Dowlah,
      and the various palaces built by Akbar Shah, once more took the road,
      and were soon again galloping through the dust, morning bringing us
      to the bungalow of Bewah. From this we again made for Ghoorsahagunge
      and Cawnpore, and by rail to Allahabad, there completing a circuit
      of travel extending to between two and three thousand miles:
       
       
              "In heat and cold
      We'd roved o'er many a hill and many a dale,
      Through many a wood and many an open ground,
      In sunshine and in shade, in wet and fair,
      Thoughtful or blithe of heart as might befall
      Our best companions, now the driving winds,
      And now the trotting brooks and whispering trees,
      And now the music of our own quick steps
      With many a short-lived thought that passed between
      And disappeared."
       
       
      And now but one day more remains of our six months' leave. The 31st of
      October sees us again fairly in the hands of the authorities. Brothers
      in arms, who during our absence have been having "all work and no
      play," receive us with warm and disinterested welcome. The Q.M.G. is
      hauled away in triumph by a swarm of fellow black-legs to glad the
      squaw-like partner of his sooty bosom. The last remnants of the
      expedition are fairly broken up, and already the days when we went
      gipsying have passed away "a long time ago."
       
       
       
      Route.
       
       
                              Miles.
      Allahabad
      Cawnpore                120
      Ghoorsahagunge      72
      Etawah              73
      Kurga               72
      Delhi               51
      Kurnaul             73
      Umballa             45
      Kalka               40
      Kussowlie           9
      Simla               40
      Hureepore           20
      Kalka               29
      Umballa             40
      Thikanmajura            36
      Jullundur           61
      Umritsur                59
      Lahore              35
      Gugerwalla          39
      Goojerat                30
      Bimber              27
      Serai Saidabad      12
      Nowshera                11
      Chungas             11
      Rajaori             12
      Thanna              12
      Burrumgulla         11
      Poshana             6
      Peer Punjal         9
      Poshana             9
      Aliabad             11
      Heerpore                13
      Shupayon                6
      Ramoon              9
      Sirinugger          14
      Wuler               by water
      Islamabad         ,,
      Atchabull           6
      Vernagh             11
      Islamabad           15
      Sirinugger          by water
      Gunberbull            ,,
      Kungur              11
      Gundisursing            12
      Soonamurg           14
      Foot of the Hills   9
      Pandras             24
      Dras                    8
      Tusgam              14
      Chungun             12
      Pushkoom                10
      Waka                    13
      Khurboo             10
      Lamieroo                12
      Nurila              16
      Suspul              14
      Egnemo              10
      Ladak               18
      Chunga              18
      Hemis               2
      Ladak               20
      Pitok               4
      Egnemo              14
      Suspul              10
      Nurila              14
      Lamieroo                16
      Khurboo             12
      Waka                    10
      Pushkoom                13
      Thambis             14
      Sankoo              16
      Sooroo              12
      Among the Mountains 11
      Ditto               14
      Sucknez             11
      Bragnion                14
      Peer                    16
      Nowbogh             9
      Kukunath                10
      Atchabull           8
      Islamabad           6
      Sirinugger          by water
      Baramoula             ,,
      Nowshera                8
      Uree                    15
      Chukothee           15
      Hutteian                14
      Chukar              9
      Mehra               6
      Dunna               6
      Puttun              6
      Dewul               9
      Muree               11
      Rawul Pindee            37
      Gugerkhan           30
      Jhelum              37
      Goojerat                31
      Gugerwalla          30
      Lahore              39
      Umritsur                35
      Jullundur           59
      Loodiana                32
      Umballa             71
      Kurnaul             45
      Ghureekulla         36
      Delhi               36
      Allyghur                79
      Agra                    50
      Bewah               82
      Ghoorsahagunge      79
      Cawnpore                72
      Allahabad           120
       
       
      Parts of the country not having been at the time correctly mapped,
      these distances are in some instances approximations only.
       
       
       
      The Religions of Cashmere and Thibet.
       
      During all our wanderings, whether in India, Cashmere, or Thibet,
      the most striking feature throughout, was the outward display of
      religion and the prominent part which religious forms of worship
      take in the every-day life of the people. Monuments and temples
      everywhere bear testimony to the universal belief in a Supreme Being;
      and Hindoo, Mussulman, and Buddhist alike, by numberless prayers and
      frequent offerings, confess their desire to propitiate His power and
      to cultivate His favour.
       
      Every little village has its "Musjid" or "Shiwala," and everywhere,
      and at all hours, votaries of the different sects may be seen, in
      the fashion they have learnt from childhood, openly REMEMBERING,
      at least, their Creator.
       
      The naked Hindoo, with loosened scalp lock and otherwise closely-shaven
      head, stands in running water, and with his face upturned to the sun
      apostrophises the Divine Essence, whose qualities and attributes he has
      alone been taught to recognise, through the numberless incarnations
      of his degenerate creed. Five times a day the Mussulman kneels in
      open adoration of his Maker, and, doffing his slippers, repeats, with
      forehead to the ground, the formula laid down for him by the only
      Prophet he has learnt to believe in. The Buddhist, too, mutters his
      "Um mani panee" at every turn, and keeps his praying wheel in endless
      motion, with entire confidence in its mystic virtues, and fullest
      faith in the efficacy of those forms which he has thus been taught
      to follow from his cradle.
       
      Each worships after the fashion of his fathers before him, and each,
      by the dim illumination of his own particular light, fancies himself
      upon the true path, and is able plainly to perceive his neighbour
      groping in the outer darkness.
       
      Seeing all this, and turning in imagination to other lands, it is
      curious to consider that the Church which possesses the only Lamp
      of Truth, and who by the help of its light pronounces all these
      zealous worshippers alike, to be but "Infidels and Turks," and
      says to all, in language not quite so polite as that of Touchstone,
      "Truly, shepherds, ye are in a parlous state," herself makes no such
      public demonstration of her faith. To an Eastern infidel travelling
      in the West, she would even appear, to outward eye, a tenfold greater
      infidel than her neighbours. Except on one day in seven, he would
      seldom find a place of public worship open to his gaze, while the Name
      which he himself has learned to reverence to such a degree that every
      scrap of paper that might chance to bear it, is sacred in his eyes,
      he might hear a thousand times, and perhaps not once in adoration;
      and while it commences every action of his own life he would there
      find it utterly excluded from its accustomed place. Even the form of
      parting salutation, which in almost all lands -- Infidel and Heretical
      -- greets him in the name of God, would, in Protestant England, fall
      upon his ear with no such signification. While the benighted Hindoo
      greets his parting neighbour to the present day with "Khuda Hafiz" --
      God the Preserver -- the Englishman's "Good-bye," like well-worn coin,
      has changed so much by use, that now, no stranger could discern in it
      any trace whatever of the image with which it was originally stamped.
       
      And although the comparison between the apparent creeds of East
      and West is truly that between a very large proportion of faithful
      professors of a false religion and, to outward eye, a similarly
      large proportion of unfaithful followers of the true religion, it is
      interesting to form some idea of the different systems which have
      existed for so many ages, and which, though proved alike by reason
      and revelation to be of human origin and unequal to the wants of
      human nature, have yet maintained their influence to the present day,
      and hold among their votaries still such zealous worshippers of an
      unknown God.
       
      The oldest of all these religions appears to be that of the
      Hindoos. The Vedas, or Scriptures, date as far back as the Books of
      Moses, 1100 B.C.; and previously even to their then being committed
      to writing by the Sage Vyasa, they are believed to have been preserved
      for ages by tradition. The primary doctrine of the Vedas is the Unity
      of God. There is, they say, "but one Deity, the Supreme Spirit, the
      Lord of the Universe, whose work is the universe." "Let as adore the
      supremacy of that divine Sun, the Godhead, who illuminates all, who
      recreates all, from whom all proceed, to whom all must return, whom
      we invoke to direct our understandings aright in our progress towards
      His holy seat. What the sun and light are to this world, that are the
      Supreme Good and Truth to the intellectual and invisible universe;
      and as our corporeal eyes have a distinct perception of objects
      enlightened by the sun, thus our souls acquire certain knowledge by
      meditating on the light of truth which emanates from the Being of
      beings; that is the light by which alone our minds can be directed
      to the path of beatitude."
       
      Every Brahmin must pray at morning and evening twilight in some
      unfrequented place, near pure water, and must bathe daily; he
      must also daily perform five sacraments, viz., studying the Vedas,
      making oblations to the manes of the departed, giving rice to living
      creatures, and receiving guests with honour. As to the doctrine of
      a future state, they believe in the transmigration of the soul, but
      that between the different stages of existence it enjoys, according to
      merit or demerit, years and years of happiness in some of the heavens,
      or suffers torments of similar duration in some of the hells. The
      most wicked, however, after being purged of their crimes by ages of
      suffering, and by repeated transmigrations, may ascend in the scale
      of being until they finally enter heaven and attain the highest reward
      of all good, which is incorporation with the Divine Essence.
       
      Like more enlightened systems of religion, the Hindoo faith has
      degenerated from the purity originally inculcated. The Monotheism,
      though still existing, has been almost smothered by a system of
      innumerable incarnations; by means of which the attributes of an unseen
      Deity were to be brought to the understandings of the ignorant; and,
      as might be expected, the hidden symbol has been almost lost in the
      tangible reality. The later Scriptures, or Puranas, are believed to
      have been compiled between the eighth and sixteenth centuries, A.D.;
      and though still upholding the existence of a Supreme Being, by whom
      all things are composed, they introduce a variety of incarnations
      and divinities almost innumerable. Of these, the three principal are
      Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva, representing respectively the creating,
      preserving, and destroying principles; and their wives, Sereswutee,
      Lukshmee, and Dewee. These latter are the active powers which develop
      the principles represented by the triad. The divinity most commonly
      portrayed however, though not publicly worshipped, is Gunesh. Almost
      every dwelling has her effigy rudely painted over the entrance; and she
      is invoked at the beginning of all undertakings, and is the remover of
      all difficulties. Her peculiar appearance is accounted for by the fact
      of her having been killed at an early period of life by Siva, who cut
      off her head, and, afterwards relenting, replaced it with the first
      that happened to come to hand, which turned out to be an elephant's!
       
      Gunesh was produced by the intense wishes of Dewee, and is now appealed
      to at the commencement of almost every act in Hindoo life.
       
      The following invocation to this "household god" will give some idea
      of the position she holds in public estimation. It is taken from the
      "Prem Sagur," or Ocean of Love, a history of the life of Krishna,
      a son of Vishnu, who, with Siva and Dewee, or Mahadewee, monopolises
      almost the entire public respect and adoration: --
       
       
       
      "Oh elephant-faced Deity, obviator of difficulties, of exalted fame
      resplendent,
      Grant as a boon, pure language, wisdom, and felicity may be much
      promoted.
      Thou on whose two celestial feet the world is gazing, worshipping
      both day and night,
      O mother of the universe, grant unto me, remembering thee, true skill
      and utterance."
       
       
      The "Ocean of Love" gives a full account of the various incarnations
      of Krishna, the favourite divinity of the Hindoos, and opens with
      the scene of his birth. Kans, his uncle, has placed guards, in order
      that the child may be killed at his first appearance, it having been
      predicted that Kans himself is to fall by the hands of Krishna. The
      Cashmerian artist -- whose powers of colouring were his chief
      recommendation -- has depicted the moment when Vasadeo and Devakee,
      the father and mother, viewing Krishna, with long-drawn sighs, both
      begin to say, "If, by some means, we could send away this child, then
      it would escape the guilty Kans." Vasadeo says, "Without destiny none
      can preserve him; the writing of Fate, that only will be accomplished."
       
      Destiny being propitious, the guards fall asleep upon their posts,
      as shown in the accompanying design, and another child is substituted
      for Krishna. He is afterwards brought up as a herdsman, and spends
      his childhood among the milkmaids of Braj, upon whom he plays all
      sorts of tricks. "One day the divine Krishna played upon the flute
      in the forest, when, hearing the sound of the instrument, all the
      young women of Braj arose in confusion, and hastened and assembled
      in one place. The dark-blue Krishna, with body of the hue of clouds,
      stood in the midst; and such was the beauty of the fair ones, as they
      sported, that they resembled golden creepers growing from beneath a
      blue mountain!"
       
      The description of the state of the world, on Krishna's appearance,
      is given by the saintly Shukadeo to King Parikshah -- "O King, at the
      time of the divine Krishna appearing, in the minds of all such joy
      arose, that not even the name of grief remained. With joy the woods
      and groves began to bear fruits and flowers, their verdure still
      increasing. The rivers, streams, and lakes were filled with water,
      and upon them birds of every kind were sporting; and, from city to
      city, from house to house, from village to village, rejoicings were
      celebrated. The Brahmins were performing sacrifice; the Regents of
      the ten divisions of the horizon rejoiced. Clouds were moving over
      the circuit of Braj. The deities, seated in their cars, rained down
      flowers; the holders of the magic pill, the celestial musicians, and
      heavenly bards, continually sounding drums, kettledrums, and pipes,
      were singing the praises of the divine virtues; and, in one direction,
      Urvasee, and all the celestial dancers, were dancing. In such a time,
      then, on Wednesday, the eighth day of the dark half of the month
      Bhadon, at midnight, while the moon was in the mansion of Rohanee,
      the divine Krishna was born, of the colour of clouds, moon-faced and
      lotus-eyed, with a girdle of yellow cloth passing round his loins,
      wearing a crown, and arrayed in a necklace of five jewels, produced
      from the elements of nature, and with ornaments set with gems, in a
      four-armed form, sustaining the shell, the quoit, the mace, and the
      lotus he presented himself."
       
      Krishna afterwards espouses a fair lady, of the name of Rukminee,
      and the marriage is thus poetically described. Rukminee has written
      a letter, filled with love, and sent it by the hand of a Brahmin, to
      the Root of Joy, Krishna: -- "The Brahmin having arrived at Duarika,
      perceives that the town is in the midst of the ocean, and on the four
      sides of it there are great mountains and woods and groves, which
      add beauty to the scene. In these were various kinds of beasts and
      birds, and the limpid lakes were filled with pure water, and lotus
      flowers were blooming, upon which swarms upon swarms of black bees
      were humming. To the distance of many miles orchards, containing an
      endless variety of fruit and flowers, extended; along these enclosures
      betel gardens were flourishing. The gardeners, standing at the wells,
      were singing with sweet strains; and, working waterwheels and buckets,
      were irrigating the high and low grounds."
       
      Beholding this beautiful scene, and being gladdened thereby, the
      Brahmin, still advancing, beholds that "on four sides of the city
      are very lofty ramparts, with four gateways, in which folding-doors,
      inlaid with gold, are fixed, and, inside the city, houses of five
      and six stories high, of silver and gold, adorned with jewels, so
      lofty as to converse with the sky, are glittering. Their minarets
      and pinnacles are gleaming like lightning, and banners and pennons
      of many colours are fluttering. The warm fragrance of perfumes was
      issuing from windows, air-holes, and lattices. At every door were
      placed pillars of the plantain-tree, with fresh shoots, and golden
      vessels. Garlands and wreathed flowers were festooned from house
      to house, and joyful music was sounding. From place to place, the
      recital of the Puranas and discourse about Krishna was kept up. The
      eighteen classes were dwelling in case and tranquillity."
       
      On hearing the Brahmin's message, the warder says: -- " 'Great
      sir, be pleased to enter the palace; the divine Krishna reposes,
      in front of you, on a throne.' Krishna, descending, bows to him,
      and shows him much respect, and those attentions which a man would
      show to his friend. Having applied fragrant unguents, and caused
      him to be bathed and washed, he partakes of food, possessing the six
      flavours. Afterwards he gave him the betel leaf, made up with areca
      nut, spices, and chunam; and having perfumed his body with saffron
      and sandal wood oil, and arranged his dress, and put upon him a
      necklace of flowers, he conducted him into a palace adorned with
      jewels, and caused him to repose in a fair curtained bed, studded with
      gems." After sleeping profoundly, the Brahmin awakes, and relates his
      mission. Krishna goes to claim his bride, and orders his charioteer,
      Darak, to prepare his chariot. Darak quickly yokes four horses. Then
      the divine Krishna, having ascended, and seated the Brahmin, departs
      from Duarika to Kundalpore. On coming forth from the city, behold! "on
      the right hand herds upon herds of deer are moving, and in front,
      a lion and lioness, carrying their prey, are advancing, roaring."
       
      Having seen this auspicious event, the Brahmin, having mentally
      reflected, said, "Sire, from beholding, at this time, this good
      omen, it appears to my mind that, just as these are advancing,
      having accomplished their object, just so you will return, having
      effected yours." Arrived at Kundalpore, he finds preparations made
      for the marriage:
       
       
      "Swept were the streets, the crossings o'er-canopied, and with perfumes
      sprinkled and sandal oil;
      Clusters were formed of flowers of white and of red, and interspersed
      with cocoa-nuts of gold.
      The green foliage, fruits, and flowers, were in profusion, and from
      house to house flowering wreaths.
      Banners and pennons and flowers, in golden tissues, were suspended,
      and well-fashioned vessels of gold
      And in every house reigned joy!"
       
       
      "As for Rukminee, with agitated frame, she gazed in every direction,
      as the moon is dimmed by the morn. Extreme anxiety showed in the
      heart of the fair one; she gazed, standing in a lofty balcony; her
      frame was agitated, her heart most sad; she drew deep sighs. While,
      through distress, tears rain from her eyes, she says, "Why has not
      Krishna arrived?" When the marriage-day dawns, she sends, by a Brahmin,
      to Krishna: "Receptacle of favour, -- When two hours of the day remain
      I shall go to perform worship in the temple of Dewee, to the east of
      the city." Her companions and attendants, arriving, first filled a
      square place in the courtyard with pearls, and spread a seat of gold
      set with pearls, on which they caused Rukminee to sit, and anointed
      her with oil by the hands of seven married women whose husbands
      were alive. Afterwards, having rubbed her with fragrant paste, they
      adorned her with sixteen ornaments, and put on her twelve trinkets,
      and having arrayed her in a red boddice they seated her, fully
      adorned. Then the young Rukminee, accompanied by all her handmaidens,
      went, with the sound of music, to perform her devotions. Screened by
      a curtain of silk, and surrounded by crowd upon crowd of companions,
      she appeared among the swarthy group who accompanied her as beautiful,
      as amid dark blue clouds, the moon with its company of stars!"
       
      Having arrived at the temple of Dewee, the royal maiden, having washed
      her hands and feet and sipped water, proceeded to offer sandal oil,
      unbroken grains of rice, flowers, incense, lamps, and consecrated food,
      and with earnest faith performed the worship of Dewee according to
      the prescribed ritual.
       
      "After which she fed women of the Brahmin caste with delectable food,
      and having attired them in fair garments, she drew a mark on their
      foreheads with a mixture of rice, alum, turmeric, and acid, and
      having caused to adhere some unbroken grains of rice, she received
      their benediction. Hearing from an attendant that Krishna has
      arrived, the Princess is filled with ecstatic delight, so that she
      cannot contain herself; and leaning on the arm of an attendant, in a
      graceful attitude, remains slightly smiling, in such a manner that no
      description can express her beauty. The guards become fascinated and
      remain immoveable. With trembling frame and coy of heart she finally
      departs with Krishna."
       
      The domestic life and appearance of Krishna and Rukminee is still
      further characteristically described in the imaginative pages of the
      "Ocean of Love:" -- "Once on a time, in a palace of gold, studded with
      jewels, a gem-adorned bedstead, with curtains, was spread, on which a
      bedding white as foam, and adorned with flowers, with pillows for the
      cheek and for the head, continued to exhale perfumes. On all four sides
      of the bed vessels containing camphor, rose-water, saffron, sandal
      oil, and other ingredients, were placed; various kinds of marvellous
      pictures were delineated on the walls on all sides. In recesses, here
      and there, flowers, fruits, sweetmeats, and confections were placed,
      and all that could be required for enjoyment was at hand. Clothed in
      a petticoat and a full loose robe of dazzling splendour, embroidered
      with pearls, and a sparkling boddice, and a long refulgent wrapper,
      and wearing a glittering veil, covered with ornaments from head to
      foot; with red lines drawn across the forehead, having a nose-ring of
      the largest pearls, ornaments for the head, earrings, ornamental line
      at the parting of the hair, marks between the eyebrows, ornaments for
      the ears and forehead, a necklace composed of circular pieces of gold,
      a string of gold beads and coral, a breast ornament, a necklace of five
      strings and of seven, a pearl necklace, double and triple bracelets
      of nine gems, armlets, wristlets, and other kinds of fastenings for
      the arm; bangles, seals; seal rings, a girdle of bells, rings for the
      great toe, toe ornaments, anklets, and other ornaments of all kinds
      studded with jewels; the moon-faced, tulip-complexioned, gazelle-eyed,
      bird-voiced, elephant-gaited, slim-waisted, divine Rukminee, and the
      cloud-coloured, lotus-eyed Krishna, ocean of beauty, splendour of
      the three worlds, root of joy, wearing a diadem like the crest of a
      peacock, and a necklace of forest flowers, a silken robe of yellow
      hue, and a scarf of the same, were reposing, when, all of sudden,
      the divine Krishna said to Rukminee, 'Listen, fair one,' " &c.
       
      Krishna afterwards takes 16,100 wives, and always at early dawn,
      one would wash his face, another would apply a fragrant paste to
      his body, another would prepare for him and give him to eat food of
      six flavours, another would make nice betel, with cloves, cardamums,
      mace, and nutmegs, for her beloved. "Each produced a daughter fair as
      Rukminee; each ten sons, brave sons were they! 161,000 and all alike,
      such were the sons of Krishna!"
       
      Such is part of the history of the favourite divinity of the benighted
      Hindoo as related in the flowery pages of the "Ocean of Love," and
      the history may be, more or less, read in the every-day scenes of
      Indian life which pass around one.
       
      The description of Rukminee, strange as it is, corresponds with many
      other fair portraits in the Hindee; witness that of "Oonmadinee,"
      the daughter of "Rutundutt": --
       
      "Her beauty was like a light in a dark house -- her eyes were those
      of a deer, her curls like female snakes, her eyebrows like a bow,
      her nose like a parrot's, her teeth like a string of pearls, her
      lips like the red gourds, her neck like a pigeon's, her waist like
      a leopard's, her hands and feet like a soft lotus, her face like the
      moon, with the gait of a goose, and the voice of a cuckoo!"
       
      More apparent even than in the earthly nature of the Hindoo's
      conception of the Divine attributes, the falsity and the human
      origin of his Faith may be seen in the effect it produces wherever
      it is allowed to obtain undivided sway. Combining dirt, idleness,
      and religion together, the Hindoo Fukeer, attired in the minutest
      rag of raiment, at times in none at all, wanders from place to place,
      and with long and matted hair, blood-shot haggard eyes, and scowling
      visage, fancies himself upon the path which leads direct to Paradise.
       
      Attenuated to the last degree, he suffers all extremes of heat and
      cold, sleeps upon a bed of ashes, and sits moodily beneath the burning
      mid-day sun, lives on charity while scorning usually to ask for alms,
      and bears the reputation of a saint while reducing himself to the
      very level of the beasts that perish.
       
      Something of the cheerful feelings which actuate these religious
      mendicants may be found in the following passage: -- "He may be
      called a wise 'Jogee,' or 'Fukeer,' who has dried up the reservoir
      of hope with the fire of austere devotion, and who has subdued his
      mind, and kept the organs of sense in their proper place; and this
      is the condition of persons in this world, that their bodies undergo
      dissolution, their heads shake, and their teeth fall out. When men
      become old, they walk about with sticks, and it is thus that time
      passes away. Night succeeds day, and year succeeds month, and old
      age succeeds childhood, and we know not who we are ourselves, and
      who others are; one comes and another departs; and at last all living
      creatures must depart. And, behold! night passes away, and then day
      dawns; the moon goes down and the sun rises; thus does youth depart,
      and old age comes on, and thus Time pursues his course: but although
      man sees all these things, he does not become wise. There are bodies of
      many kinds, and minds of many kinds, and affections or fascinations of
      many kinds, and Brahma has created wickedness of many kinds; but a wise
      man, having escaped from these, and having subdued hope and avarice,
      and shaved his head, and taken a stick and water-pot in his hands,
      having subjugated the passion of love and anger, and become a 'Jogee,'
      who wanders and travels about with naked feet to places of pilgrimage,
      obtains final liberation. And, behold, this world is like a dream."
       
      The derivation of the word "Fukeer," and an illustration of the
      disposition of the mendicant race, is given in a Persian tale,
      called the "Four Dervishes." The story was originally narrated to
      amuse a king of Delhi, who was sick, and was afterwards DONE into
      Hindostanee by a Mussulman author, who styles himself, "This wicked
      sinner, Meer Ammun of Delhi."
       
      The speaker, a certain prince, who aspires to the title of "generous,"
      has built a lofty house, with forty high and spacious doors, where, at
      all times, from morning to evening, he gives rupees and gold mohurs[35]
      to the poor and necessitous, and whoever asks for anything he satisfies
      him. "One day a Fukeer came to the front door and begged. I gave him
      a gold mohur; again he came to a second door, and asked for two gold
      mohurs. I passed over the matter, and gave him two gold mohurs.
       
      "In this manner he came to every door, and asked for an additional
      gold mohur each time, and I gave him according to his request. Having
      come to the fortieth door, and received forty gold mohurs, he came
      in again by the first door, and begged afresh.
       
      "This appeared to me a very bad action on his part. I said to him,
      'O avaricious man! what sort of mendicant art thou, who knowest not the
      three letters of "Fukur" (POVERTY), according to which a Fukeer should
      act?' The Fukeer said, 'Well, O liberal person, do you explain them to
      me.' I replied, 'The three letters are F, K, and R. From F comes "faka"
      (FASTING); from K, "kinaut" (CONTENTMENT); and from R comes "reeazut"
      (ABSTINENCE). He is not a Fukeer in whom these qualities are not. Oh,
      avaricious creature! you have taken from forty doors, from one gold
      mohur to forty. Calculate, therefore, how many you have received. And,
      in addition to this, your avarice has brought you again to the first
      door. Expend what you have received, and return and take whatever you
      ask for. A Fukeer should take thought for one day; on the second day
      there will be some fresh bestower of alms.' Having heard this speech of
      mine, he became angry and dissatisfied, and threw all he had received
      from me on the ground, and said, 'Enough, father; be not so warm;
      take all your presents back again. Do not again assume the name of
      "Liberal." You cannot lift the weights of liberality. When will you
      arrive at that day's journey?'
       
      "When I heard this I was alarmed, and with many solicitations asked
      him to forgive my fault, and to take whatsoever he wished. He would
      not accept my gifts at all, and went away saying, 'If you were now
      to offer me your whole kingdom I would not receive it from you.' "
       
      This studied indifference about a matter of more than a thousand
      pounds, though perhaps not often exercised upon so large a scale, is
      just that which these wandering fanatics display towards every offering
      they receive, and in every action of their useless lives. Whatever
      may be said against them, however, their profession of poverty and
      suffering is no mockery, as was that of the well-fed "monks of old,"
      whose reasonings were something similar on religious points.
       
      The Fukeer soliloquizes: "The condition of our being born is, that
      our griefs are many and our pleasures few, because this world is the
      root of misery. What happiness, therefore, has man? If any man should
      climb to the top of a tree, or sit down on the summit of a hill, or
      remain concealed in water, yet death does not allow him to escape. At
      the most, man's age is a hundred years, half of which passes away in
      night, half of the other half is expended in childhood and old age;
      the remainder is spent in altercation, separation from those we love,
      and affliction, and the soul is restless as a wave of the sea. No
      one who has come into the world has escaped from affliction. It
      is vain to fix one's affections on it, and therefore it is best to
      cultivate and practise religion." And so, as a remedy for the evil
      which he has discovered to exist upon the earth, and to work out a
      successful escape from it, he sits himself down in dust and ashes,
      and, mistaking the sign-post, adopts the path which leads him furthest
      from the point he wishes to arrive at.
       
      As the Hindoo is the most ancient of religions, so the Buddhist
      is the one which is professed by the largest portion of the human
      race. It is the religion of Burmah, Ceylon, China, Siam, Thibet, and
      Russian Tartary, and is computed to claim as many as three hundred
      and sixty-nine millions among its Votaries.[36] "Gautama," or "Sakya
      mounee," its founder, was born in Bengal about the seventh century
      before Christ. Yet India at present contains no modern temples of its
      worship, and no native of India, that I have ever met, knew anything
      of its founder, or was even acquainted with the term "Buddha," or
      "Buddhist." Its doctrines are the most curious of those that have
      ever been promulgated, and appear even now to be scarcely understood
      in all their ramifications. According to original Buddhism, there is
      no Creator, nor being that is self-existent and eternal. The great
      object is the attainment, in this life, of complete abstraction from
      all worldly affairs and passions, and the ultimate result, of entire
      annihilation. Like the Hindoo, the Buddhist believes in transmigration
      of souls, and until utter annihilation is reached, he is doomed to
      shift his earthly tenement, from form to form, according to the deeds
      done in the flesh. It is, therefore, the great object of all beings,
      who would be released from the sorrows of successive birth, to seek
      the destruction of the moral cause of continued existence, that is,
      the cleaving to existing objects or evil desire. It is only possible to
      accomplish this end by attending to a prescribed course of discipline,
      and by fixing the mind upon the perfections of Buddha. Those who after
      successive births have entirely destroyed all evil desires are called
      "Rahuts," and after death the Rahut attains "Nirwana," or ceases to
      exist. The actual meaning of the word "Rahut," is "Tranquillity,"
      and it appears to be the same word which is used on a small scale,
      to express the soothing qualities of that far-famed Eastern sweetmeat,
      the Rahut-lukma, or "Morsels of tranquillity."
       
      The Buddhas themselves are beings who appear after intervals of
      time inconceivably vast. Previous to their reception of the state,
      they pass through countless phases of being, at, one time appearing
      in human form, at another as a frog, or fish, &c., in each of which
      states they acquire a greater degree of merit.
       
      In the birth in which they become Buddha, they are always of woman
      born, and pass through infancy and youth like ordinary mortals,
      until at the prescribed age they abandon the world and retire to the
      wilderness, where they receive the supernatural powers with which
      the office is endowed. Their highest glory is that they receive the
      wisdom by which they can direct sentient beings to the path that
      leads to the desired cessation of existence.
       
      The Buddhism of Thibet appears to be an innovation on the original
      system of religion. It was introduced into the country about the
      seventh century of our era; and although Sakya mounee, who is supposed
      by the Thibetians to have lived one thousand years before Christ,
      is still believed to be the founder of the present system, the Delai
      Lama, at Lassa, is regarded as an incarnation of Buddha, and is the
      supreme infallible head of the whole Thibetian religious community.
       
      The original tenets, too, have been modified, and the modern Scriptures
      have been adapted to three different capacities of mankind -- viz. the
      lowest, mean (or middle), and the highest. The principles thus declared
      are as follows : --
       
      "1. Men of vulgar capacity must believe that there is a God, a future
      life, and that they shall therein reap the fruits of their works in
      this life.
       
      "2. Those that are in a middle degree of intellectual and moral
      capacity, besides admitting the former position, must know that every
      compound thing is perishable, that there is no reality in things,
      that every imperfection is pain, and that deliverance from pain or
      bodily existence is final happiness.
       
      "3. Those of the highest capacities, besides the above enumerated
      articles, must know that, from the body to the supreme soul, nothing
      is existing by itself, neither can it be said that it will continue
      always or cease absolutely, but that everything exists by a dependant
      or casual connexion."[37]
       
      One cause of the extension of the religion of Buddha appears to
      be the broad basis upon which admission to the priesthood has
      'been placed. No one can become a Brahmin except by birth, but the
      privileges of becoming a Lama are open to all who are willing to
      receive them upon the conditions implied in their acceptance. The
      principal duties to be attended to, by one about to become a priest,
      are thus laid down: -- "He who, with a firm faith in the religion
      of Truth, believes in Buddha, shall rise before daylight, and,
      having cleaned his teeth, shall then sweep all the places appointed
      to be swept in the vicinity of the 'Vihara,' or monastery; after
      which he shall fetch the water that is required for use, filter it,
      and place it ready for drinking. When this is done, he shall retire
      to a solitary place, and for the space of three hours meditate on
      the obligations of his vow. The bell will then ring, and he must
      reflect that greater than the gift of 100 elephants, 100 horses, and
      100 chariots, is the reward of him who takes one step towards the
      place where worship is offered. Thus reflecting, he shall approach
      the 'Dagoba,' where relics of holy men are placed, and perform that
      which is appointed; he shall offer flowers just as if Buddha were
      present in person, meditate on the nine virtues of Buddha with a
      fixed and determined mind, and seek forgiveness for his faults,
      just as if the sacred relics were endowed with life. He shall then
      meditate on the advantages to be derived from carrying the alms-bowl
      and putting on the yellow robe." The injunctions on the priesthood
      relative to their abstracting their thoughts and desires from all
      earthly matters whatever, are of the strictest nature. "The door
      of the eye is to be kept shut. When the outer gates of the city are
      left open, though the door of every separate house and store be shut,
      the enemy will enter the city and take possession; in like manner,
      though all the ordinances be kept, if the eye be permitted to wander,
      affection for worldly objects will be produced." A story is told of a
      priest named Chittagutta, who resided once in a cave, upon the walls of
      which the history of Buddha was painted "in the finest style of art."
       
      The cave was visited by some priests, who expressed their admiration
      of the paintings to Chittagutta, but the devotee replied that he had
      lived there sixty years and had never seen them, nor would he, except
      for their information, ever have become aware of their existence. There
      was near the door of his cave a spreading tree; but he only knew that
      it was there by the fall of its leaves or flowers; the tree itself he
      never saw, as he carefully observed the precept not to look upwards,
      or to a distance!
       
      The priest of Buddha must possess but eight articles: three of these
      are matters of dress; the others, a girdle for the loins, an alms-bowl,
      a razor, a needle, and a water-strainer. The bowl receives the food
      presented in alms; the razor is for shaving the head; the needle
      keeps his yellow wardrobe in order; and the water-strainer is the
      most serviceable of all, for "if any priest shall knowingly drink
      water containing insects, he shall be ejected from the priesthood."
       
      The Dagobas, or shrines of relics, which abound in such numbers in
      Thibet, have also been found in India and other countries. Some of
      them when opened have been found to contain what appears to be remains
      of a funeral pile, also vessels of stone or metal, and, occasionally,
      caskets of silver and gold, curiously wrought. "Some of these have been
      chased with a series of four figures, representing Buddha in the act
      of preaching; a mendicant is on his right, a lay follower on his left,
      and behind the latter a female disciple." This somewhat describes the
      appearance of the stone-carved figures at the monastery of Hemis.[38]
      These caskets have been set with rubies and chased with the leaves
      of the lotus. Besides these have also been found small pearls, gold
      buttons, rings, beads, pieces of clay and stone bearing impressions of
      figures, bits of bone, and teeth of animals, pieces of cloth, &c. The
      images are sometimes recumbent, at other times standing upright,
      with the hand uplifted in the act of giving instruction. Sometimes
      they have three heads and six or more arms.
       
      In order to form clear and accurate ideas of the religion of Buddha,
      it would be necessary to study a vast number of volumes, some of them
      contradictory and of very doubtful authority, and the result would
      appear hardly to compensate for the trouble, so altered has modern
      Buddhism become from ancient, and into so many different systems
      has it been divided in the many different countries in which it is
      professed. Among its doctrines there is much that is virtuous and
      true. It preaches benevolence and goodwill towards men, but enjoins no
      active efforts to prove the sincerity of such goodwill. It requires
      its members to "confess their sins with a contrite heart, to ask
      forgiveness of them, and to repent truly, with a resolution not to
      commit such again. To rejoice in the moral merit and perfection of
      human beings, and to wish that they may attain beatitude; further,
      to pray and exhort others to turn the wheel of religion, that the
      world may be benefited thereby." Its general aim seems to be to
      overcome all emotions and preferences of the mind, and all that would
      disturb its repose and quiet. It seeks to destroy the human passions
      and not to regulate them; and with faith in Buddha only as its aid,
      it succeeds about as well as might have been anticipated.
       
      Between these two religions of Brahma and Buddha, that of the "Jains"
      sprang up, apparently a heresy from both. It has nearly died out
      in India, though many ruins of its temples remain. The Jains agree
      with the Buddhists as to the transmigration of souls, and carry
      their respect for life to the still greater extent, that besides a
      strainer to remove all animalculae from the water they imbibe, they
      carry a broom to sweep away the insects from their path. They differ
      from the Brahmins in repudiating their minor incarnations and gods,
      as the following translation will serve to show: -- "A rajah, of the
      name of Gondshekur, had a minister, Abhuechund, who converted him to
      the Jain religion. He prohibited the worship of Vishnu, and all gifts
      of cows, land, and balls of flour and rice, and would not allow any one
      to carry away bones to the Ganges. One day the minister began to say,
      'O great king, be pleased to listen to the judgments and explanations
      of religion: Whosoever takes another's life, that other takes his life
      in another world. The birth of a man after he has again come into the
      world does not escape from this sin; he is born again and again, and
      dies again and again. For this reason it is right for a man, who has
      been born in the world, to cultivate religion. Behold! Brahma, Vishnu,
      and Mahadeo, being under the influence of love, anger, and fascination,
      descend upon the earth in various ways; but a cow is superior to them
      all, for it is free from anger, enmity, intoxication, rage, avarice,
      and inordinate affection, and affords protection to the subject; and
      her sons also behave kindly to, and cherish the animals of the earth,
      and therefore all the gods and sages regard the cow with respect. For
      this reason, it is not right to regard the gods -- in this world,
      respect the cow. It is virtuous to protect all animals, from the
      elephant to the ant, and from beasts and birds to man. In the world
      there is no act so impious as for men to increase their own flesh by
      eating the flesh of other creatures. They who do not sympathise in the
      griefs of animated beings, and who kill and eat other animals, do not
      live long on the earth, and are born lame, maimed, blind, dwarfs, and
      humpbacked, &c.; and it is a great sin to drink wine and eat flesh;
      wherefore to do so is improper. The minister, having thus explained
      his sentiments to the rajah, converted him to the Jain religion,
      so that he did whatever the minister said, and no longer paid any
      respect to Brahmins, Fukeers, Jogies, Dervishes, &c., and carried on
      his government according to this religion."
       
      Next among the religions of the East, whose outward observances so
      forcibly attract attention, comes that of the Moslem -- "The marvellous
      reformation wrought by Mahomet and the Koran in the manners, morals,
      and religious feelings of so many millions."
       
      Mahomet, in truth, although "THE False Prophet," would appear to
      have been a considerable benefactor to his species. The Arabs,
      at the time of his birth, were sunk in idolatry and the worship
      of the stars, while their morals were under no control either of
      law or religion. The Prophet's aim appears, in the first instance,
      to have been, to secure a system of orderly government, and at the
      same time to gain, for his own family, a dignity which should be
      exalted beyond all fear of competition-the dignity of lordship over
      the holy city of Mecca. This was then held under no higher tenure
      than the sufferance and caprice of the Arab tribes. To perpetuate
      this lordship by assuming an hereditary and inviolable pontificate
      was Mahomet's first idea, and at a banquet given to the whole of his
      kinsmen he revealed his scheme. They, however, rejected his appeal,
      and he then proclaimed himself as an apostle to all, and setting
      aside existing forms and traditions proceeded to a higher flight of
      ambition. For election by blood, he substituted election of God;
      and assuming a direct revelation from on high, he, by force of an
      ardent and ambitious will, carried out his project even at Mecca
      itself, where, to all who visited his shrine, he preached without
      distinction. From the powerful opposition brought against him, Mahomet
      was at last obliged to fly; but before doing so, and casting off the
      high position he held among his own tribe and kinsmen, he assembled
      his followers together on a mountain near Mecca, and there, without
      distinction of blood or calling, he enrolled them as equal followers
      in one community, and entered with them into a solemn and binding
      agreement. "That night Mahomet fled from Mecca to Medina, and then
      took its rise a pontificate, an empire, and an era." This hegira, or
      "flight," is believed to have occurred on the 19th June, A.D. 622[39]
      but has been variously stated; it is, however, the era now in general
      use among no less than one hundred and sixty millions of people.
       
      Although himself an undoubted impostor, and the Koran a manifest
      forgery, Mahomet would appear to deserve a larger share of
      appreciation, or at least of charitable judgment, than he usually
      receives.
       
      "He was one richly furnished with natural endowments, showing
      liberality to the poor, courtesy to every one, fortitude in trial, and,
      above all, a high reverence for the name of God. He was a preacher of
      patience, charity, mercy, beneficence, gratitude, honouring of parents
      and superiors, and a frequent celebrator of Divine praise." The great
      doctrine of the Koran is the Unity of God, and in this creed Mahomet
      himself seems to have been a sincere believer. "Its design was to
      unite the professors of the three different religions then followed in
      Arabia -- who for the most part were without guides, the greater number
      being idolaters, and the rest Jews and Christians, mostly of erroneous
      and heterodox belief -- in the knowledge and worship of one eternal
      and invisible God, and to bring them to obedience of Mahomet as the
      only prophet and ambassador of the truth." The "fatiha," or opening
      chapter of the Koran, is said to contain the essence of the whole,
      and forms part of the daily prayers of all zealous Mussulmans. It
      commences with the formula pronounced at the beginning of their
      reading on all occasions whenever an animal is slaughtered for food,
      and upon the undertaking of all important actions whatever:
       
       
      "In the name of God, the merciful, the compassionate. Praise
      be to God, the Lord of the Creation, the all-merciful, the
      all-compassionate! Ruler of the day of reckoning!
       
      "Thee we worship, and Thee we invoke for help. Lead us in the straight
      path -- the path of those upon whom thou hast been gracious, not of
      those that are the objects of wrath or that are in error."
       
       
      The Moslem faithful pray five times in the twenty-four hours: in the
      morning before sunrise, at noon, before sunset, after sunset, and
      before the first watch of the night: and that these observances were
      not originally instituted merely that their prayers might be seen
      before men, would appear from the injunction which lays down that
      "what is principally to be regarded in the duty of prayer, is the
      inward disposition of the heart, which is its entire life and spirit,
      the most punctual observance being of no avail if performed without
      devotion, reverence, attention, and hope."
       
      Prayer was held by Mahomet to be the "pillar of religion" and the
      "key of paradise," and in the performance of it, his disciples are
      enjoined to lay aside their ornaments and costly habits, and all that
      might savour of either pride or arrogance.
       
      Its observance, however, at five stated times appears to be nowhere
      mentioned in the Koran, although the custom is now an essential part,
      and the most noticeable and characteristic feature of Mahomedanism.
       
      Saints and sinners join equally in the form. A crime just committed,
      or one in immediate contemplation, in no way interferes with the
      "five-time prayers," and the neglect of them amounts to an abnegation
      of the Faith. The summons to prayer was originally only one sentence,
      "To public prayer." Mahomet, however, afterwards bethought himself
      that a more elaborate and striking call would be an improvement,
      and the present "Azzan," or call to prayer, was introduced.
       
      While the matter was under discussion, Mahomet being unable to decide
      upon any suitable form, a certain Abdallah dreamed that he met a man
      arrayed in green raiment carrying a bell. Abdallah sought to buy it,
      thinking it would just suit the Prophet for assembling together the
      Faithful. The stranger, however, replied, "I will show you a better
      way than that; let a crier call aloud --
       
       
      "Great is the Lord! great is the Lord!
      I bear witness that there is no God but the Lord;
      I bear witness that Mahomet is the Prophet of God!
      Come unto prayer, come unto happiness --
      God is great! God is great! There is no God but the Lord!"
       
       
      Mahomet, learning the particulars of Abdallah's dream, believed it to
      have been a vision from on high, and sent his servant forthwith to
      execute the Divine command. Ascending to the top of a lofty house,
      this first of established Muezzins, on the earliest appearance of
      light, startled all around from their slumbers with the newly-adopted
      call, adding to it, "Prayer is better than sleep! Prayer is better
      than sleep!" And ever since, at the customary five hours, have his
      successors thus summoned the people to their devotions.
       
      Concerning the future state, the Mahomedan believes that all will
      be examined at the day of Judgment as to their words and actions in
      this life.
       
      "Their time, as to how they spent it; their wealth, by what means they
      acquired it, and how they employed it; their bodies, wherein they
      exercised them; their knowledge and learning, what use they made of
      them," &c. "They enter Paradise, however, not by their own good works,
      but by the mercy of God. At that day each person will make his defence
      in the best manner he can, endeavouring to find excuses for his own
      conduct by casting blame on others; so much so, that disputes shall
      even arise between the Soul and Body. The Soul saying, "Lord, I was
      created without a hand to lay hold with, a foot to walk with, an eye
      to see with, or an understanding to apprehend with, until I came and
      entered the Body : therefore punish it, but deliver me." The Body,
      on the other side, will make this apology, "Lord, thou createdst me
      like a stock of wood, being neither able to hold with my hand, nor to
      walk with my feet, till this Soul, like a ray of light, entered into
      me, and my tongue began to speak, my eye to see, and my foot to walk:
      therefore punish it, but deliver me." Then shall the following parable
      be propounded: -- "A certain king having a pleasant garden, in which
      were ripe fruits, set two persons to keep it, one of whom was blind,
      and the other lame -- the former not being able to see the fruit,
      nor the latter to gather it. The lame man, however, seeing the fruit,
      persuaded the blind man to take him on his shoulders; and by that means
      he easily gathered the fruits, which they divided between them. The
      lord of the garden coming some time after, and inquiring after the
      fruit, each began to excuse himself; the blind man said he had no eyes
      to see it with, and the lame man that he had no feet to approach the
      trees. Then the king, ordering the lame man to be set on the blind,
      passed sentence on them both, and punished them together.
       
      "In like manner shall be judged the Body and the Soul."
       
      Such are some few of the religious tenets of those among whom one's
      lot is cast while wandering in the East. Sunk for the most part in
      ignorance, and held as infidels for wanting faith in what they never
      heard, they nevertheless attract attention chiefly by their Faith,
      and by their zealous worship of the Being, whom, although in darkest
      ignorance as to His attributes and laws, their original creed would
      teach them to believe the one Eternal God.
       
      Some idea of the number represented by these different sects may be
      derived from the following table: --
       
       
      Asiatic Religions Buddhists     369,000,000
              Hindoos         231,000,000
              Mussulmen       160,000,000
       
      ChristiansRoman Catholics   170,000,000
              Protestants     80,000,000
              Greek Church        76,000,000
       
              Jews                5,000,000
       
              Other Religions 200,000,000[40]
       
       
      And when we reflect how great is the proportion of those who sit in
      darkness, and that "even all who tread the earth are but a handful to
      the tribes that slumber in its bosom," it is but natural to consider
      what our own belief would bid us hold as to the future destiny of so
      large a portion of the human family.
       
      At the same time, the question, "Are there few that be saved?" not
      having been answered eighteen centuries ago, would appear to be one to
      which no definite reply was intended to be rendered, and which might
      well be left till now unanswered, by those who hold the religion of
      Faith, Hope, and Charity. When, however, the Church to which we belong
      boldly affirms, in words which as the public profession of its faith,
      should be beyond all doubt or misconception by either friend or foe,
      that none CAN be saved but those who hold the Catholic Faith, as she
      would have them hold it, then, at least, we may fairly consider the
      matter so far as to doubt whether the answer thus forced upon us is one
      which, even on such high authority, we are bound to accept. Before, at
      least, concurring in a solution of the question which, thus virtually
      bringing it within the limits of a simple arithmetical calculation,
      would summarily dispose of so many millions of the human race, we
      may remember that some things have been taught as possible which men,
      and even saints, may deem impossible; and, before attempting to reduce
      "goodwill toward men" to human and determinable proportions, we may
      also remember that "good tidings of great joy" were promised to ALL
      people, and that they may possibly prove therefore to have in some way
      benefited even those who have never heard them with their mortal ears.
       
      Meanwhile, in the matter of "Turks and Infidels," we may perhaps learn
      something even from an Infidel creed, and, borrowing a definition
      from the religion of Islam, may be allowed to hold with it, that
       
       
      "Truly to despair of the goodness of God -- this is 'INFIDELITY.' "
       
       
       
       
       
      Appendix
       
      The Temples of Cashmere.
       
      Extract from "An Essay on the Arian Order of Architecture, as exhibited
      in the Temples of Kashmir," by Capt. A. Cunningham. "Journal of the
      Asiatic Society," Vol. XVII.
       
      The architectural remains of Kashmir are perhaps the most remarkable
      of the existing monuments of India, as they exhibit undoubted traces
      of the influence of Grecian art. The Hindu temple is generally a sort
      of architectural pasty, a huge collection of ornamental fritters,
      huddled together with or without keeping; while the "Jain" temple is
      usually a vast forest of pillars, made to look as unlike one another
      as possible, by some paltry differences in their petty details.
       
      On the other hand, the Kashmirian fanes are distinguished by the
      graceful elegance of their outlines, by the massive boldness of their
      parts, and by the happy propriety of their decorations.
       
      They cannot, indeed, vie with the severe simplicity of the Parthenon,
      but they possess great beauty -- different, indeed, yet quite
      their own.
       
      The characteristic features of the Kashmirian architecture are its
      lofty pyramidal roofs, its trefoiled doorways, covered by pyramidal
      pediments, and the great width of the intercolumniations.
       
      Most of the Kashmirian temples are more or less injured, but more
      particularly those at Wantipur, which are mere heaps of ruins. Speaking
      of these temples, Trebeck says: "It is scarcely possible to imagine
      that the state of ruin to which they have been reduced has been the
      work of time, or even of man, as their solidity is fully equal to
      that of the most massive monuments of Egypt. Earthquakes must have
      been the cause of their overthrow." In my opinion, their OVERTHROW is
      too complete to have been the result of an earthquake, which would
      have simply PROSTRATED the buildings in large masses. But the whole
      of the superstructure of these temples is now lying in one confused
      heap of stones, totally disjointed from one another.
       
      I believe, therefore, that I am fully justified in saying, from my
      own experience, that such a complete and DISRUPTIVE OVERTURN could
      only have been produced by gunpowder.
       
      The destruction of the Kashmirian temples is universally
      attributed, both by history and by tradition, to the bigoted
      Sikander. (A.D. 1396.) He was reigning at the period of Timur's
      invasion of India, with whom he exchanged friendly presents, and from
      whom, I suppose, he may have received a present of the VILLAINOUS
      SALTPETRE.
       
      As it would appear that the Turks had METAL cannon at the siege of
      Constantinople in 1422, I think it no great stretch of probability to
      suppose that gunpowder itself had been carried into the East, even
      as far as Kashmir, at least ten or twenty years earlier -- that is,
      about A.D. 1400 to 1420, or certainly during the reign of Sikander,
      who died in 1416.
       
      Even if this be not admitted, I still adhere to my opinion, that the
      complete ruin of the Wantipur temples could only have been effected by
      gunpowder; and I would, then, ascribe their overthrow to the bigoted
      "Aurungzib."
       
      "Ferishta" attributed to Sikander the demolition of all the Kashmirian
      temples save one, which was dedicated to Mahadeo, and which only
      escaped "in consequence of its foundations being below the surface
      of the neighbouring water."
       
      In A.D. 1580, "Abul Fazl" mentions that some of the idolatrous
      temples were in "perfect preservation;" and Ferishta describes many
      of these temples as having been in existence in his own time, or
      about A.D. 1600.
       
      As several are still standing, though more or less injured, it is
      certain that Sikander could not have destroyed them all. He most likely
      gave orders that they should be overturned; and I have no doubt that
      many of the principal temples were thrown down during his reign.
       
      But, besides the ruthless hand of the destroyer, another agency,
      less immediate, but equally certain in its ultimate effects, must have
      been at work upon the large temples of Kashmir. The silent ravages of
      the destroyer, who carries away pillars and stone, for the erection
      of other edifices, has been going on for centuries. Pillars, from
      which the architraves have been thus removed, have been thrown down
      by earthquakes, ready to be set up again for the decoration of the
      first Musjid that might be erected in the neighbourhood. Thus every
      Mahomedan building in Kashmir is constructed either entirely or in
      part of the ruins of Hindu temples.
       
       
       
      Takt-e-Suliman.
       
      The oldest temple in Kashmir, both in appearance and according to
      tradition, is that upon the hill of "Takt i Suliman," or Solomon's
      Throne. It stands 1,000 feet above the plain, and commands a view of
      the greater part of Kashmir.
       
      The situation is a noble one, and must have been amongst the first
      throughout the whole valley which was selected as the position of
      a temple. Its erection is ascribed to Jaloka, the son of Asoka,
      who reigned about 220 B.C.
       
      The plan of the temple is octagonal, each side being fifteen feet in
      length. It is approached by a flight of eighteen steps, eight feet
      in width, and inclosed between two sloping walls. Its height cannot
      now be ascertained, as the present roof is a modern plastered dome,
      which was probably built since the occupation of the country by the
      Sikhs. The walls are eight feet thick, which I consider one of the
      strongest proofs of the great antiquity of the building.
       
       
      Pandrethan.
       
      This name means the old capital, or ancient chief town. The name
      has, however, been spelt by different travellers in many different
      ways. "Moorcroft" calls it Pandenthan, "Vigne" Pandrenton, and
      "Hugel" Pandriton.
       
      The building of this temple is recorded between A.D. 913 and 921;
      and it is afterwards mentioned between the years 958 and 972, as
      having escaped destruction when the King Abhimanyu -- Nero-like --
      set fire to his own capital.
       
      As this is the only temple situated in the old capital, there can be
      very little, if any, doubt that it is the very same building which
      now exists. For as it is surrounded by water, it was, of course,
      quite safe amid the fire, which reduced the other buildings to mere
      masses of quicklime.
       
      Baron Hugel calls the Pandrethan edifice a "Buddhist temple," and
      states that there are some well-preserved Buddhist figures in the
      interior. But he is doubly mistaken, for the temple was dedicated to
      Vishnu, and the figures in the inside have no connexion with Buddhism.
       
      Trebeck swam into the interior, and could discover no figures of any
      kind; but as the whole ceiling was formerly hidden by a coating of
      plaster, his statement was, at that time, perfectly correct.
       
      The object of erecting the temples in the midst of water must have
      been to place them more immediately under the protection of the Nagas,
      or human-bodied and snake-tailed gods, who were zealously worshipped
      for ages through Kashmir.
       
       
      Marttand.
       
      Of all the existing remains of Kashmirian grandeur, the most striking
      in size and situation is the noble ruin of Marttand.
       
      This majestic temple stands at the northern end of the elevated
      table-land of "Matan," about three miles to the eastward of Islamabad.
       
      This is undoubtedly the finest position in Kashmir. The temple itself
      is not now (1848) more than forty feet in height, but its solid walls
      and bold outlines towering over the fluted pillars of the surrounding
      colonnade give it a most imposing appearance.
       
      There are no petty confused details; but all are distinct and massive,
      and most admirably suited to the general character of the building.
       
      Many vain speculations have been hazarded regarding the date of the
      erection of this temple and the worship to which it was appropriated.
       
      It is usually called the "House of the Pandus" by the Brahmins,
      and by the people "Mattan."
       
      The true appellation appears to be preserved in the latter, Matan being
      only a corruption of the Sanscrit Marttand maartta.n.d, or the sun,
      to which the temple was dedicated.
       
      The true date of the erection of this temple -- the wonder of Kashmir
      -- is a disputed point of chronology; but the period of its foundation
      can be determined within the limits of one century, or between A.D. 370
      and 500.
       
      The mass of building now known by the name of Matan, or Marttand,
      consists of one lofty central edifice, with a small detached wing on
      each side of the entrance, the whole standing on a large quadrangle
      surrounded by a colonnade of fluted pillars, with intervening
      trefoil-headed recesses. The central building is sixty-three feet in
      length, by thirty-six in width.
       
      As the main building is at present entirely uncovered, the original
      form of the roof can only be determined by a reference to other
      temples, and to the general form and character of the various parts
      of the Marttand temple itself.
       
      The angle of the roof in the Temple of Pandrethan, and in other
      instances, is obtained by making the sides of the pyramid which forms
      it parallel to the sides of the doorway pediment, and in restoring
      the Temples of Patrun and Marttand I have followed the same rule.
       
      The height of the Pandrethan temple -- of the cloistered recesses,
      porch pediments, and niches of Marttand itself -- were all just double
      their respective widths. This agreement in the relative proportions of
      my restored roof of Marttand with those deduced from other examples,
      is a presumptive proof of the correctness of my restoration. The
      entrance-chamber and the wings I suppose to have been also covered
      by similar pyramidal roofs. There would thus have been four distinct
      pyramids, of which that over the inner chamber must have been the
      loftiest, the height of its pinnacle above the ground being about
      seventy-five feet.
       
      The interior must have been as imposing as the exterior. On ascending
      the flight of steps -- now covered by ruins -- the votary of the
      sun entered a highly-decorated chamber, with a doorway on each side
      covered by a pediment, with a trefoil-headed niche containing a bust
      of the Hindu triad, and on the flanks of the main entrance, as well
      as on those of the side doorways, were pointed and trefoil niches,
      each of which held a statue of a Hindu divinity.
       
      The interior decorations of the roof can only be conjecturally
      determined, as I was unable to discover any ornamented stones that
      could with certainty be assigned to it. Baron Hugel doubts that
      Marttand ever had a roof; but, as the walls of the temple are still
      standing, the numerous heaps of large stones that are scattered about
      on all sides can only have belonged to the roof.
       
      I can almost fancy that the erection of this sun-temple was suggested
      by the magnificent sunny prospect which its position commands. It
      overlooks the finest view in Kashmir, and perhaps in the known world,
      Beneath it lies the paradise of the East, with its sacred streams and
      cedarn glens, its brown orchards and green fields, surrounded on all
      sides by vast snowy mountains, whose lofty peaks seem to smile upon
      the beautiful valley below. The vast extent of the scene makes it
      sublime; for this magnificent view of Kashmir is no petty peep into
      a half-mile glen, but the full display of a valley sixty miles in
      breadth and upwards of a hundred miles in length, the whole of which
      lies beneath "the ken of the wonderful Marttand."
       
      The principal buildings that still exist in Kashmir are entirely
      composed of a blue limestone, which is capable of taking the highest
      polish -- a property to which I mainly attribute the beautiful state
      of preservation in which some of them at present exist.
       
      Even at first sight one is immediately struck by the strong resemblance
      which the Kashmirian colonnades bear to the classic peristyles of
      Greece. Even the temples themselves, with their porches and pediments,
      remind one more of Greece than of India; and it is difficult to
      believe that a style of architecture which differs so much from all
      Indian examples, and which has so much in common with those of Greece,
      could have been indebted to chance alone for this striking resemblance.
       
      One great similarity between the Kashmirian architecture and that of
      the various Greek orders is its stereotyped style, which, during the
      long flourishing period of several centuries, remained unchanged. In
      this respect it is so widely different from the ever-varying forms
      and plastic vagaries of the Hindu architecture that it is impossible
      to conceive their evolution from a common origin.
       
      I feel convinced myself that several of the Kashmirian forms, and many
      of the details, were borrowed from the temples of the Kabulian Greeks,
      while the arrangements of the interior and the relative proportions
      of the different parts were of Hindu origin. Such, in fact, must
      necessarily have been the case with imitations by Indian workmen,
      which would naturally have been engrafted upon the indigenous
      architecture. The general arrangements would still remain Indian,
      while many of the details, and even some of the larger forms, might
      be of foreign origin.
       
      As a whole, I think that the Kashmirian architecture, with its
      noble fluted pillars, its vast colonnades, its lofty pediments,
      and its elegant trefoiled arches, is fully entitled to be classed
      as a distinct style. I have therefore ventured to call it the Arian
      order -- a name to which it has a double right; first, because it
      was the style of the Aryas, or Arians, of Kashmir; and, secondly,
      because its intercolumniations are always of four diameters -- an
      interval which the Greeks called Araiostyle.
       
       
      Extract from Vigne's "Travels in Kashmir."
       
      The Hindu temple of Marttand is commonly called the House of the
      Pandus. Of the Pandus it is only necessary to say that they are the
      Cyclopes of the East. Every old building, of whose origin the poorer
      class of Hindus in general have no information, is believed to have
      been the work of the Pandus. As an isolated ruin, this deserves, on
      account of its solitary and massive grandeur, to be ranked not only
      as the first ruin of the kind in Kashmir, but as one of the noblest
      among the architectural relics of antiquity that are to be seen in
      any country. Its noble and exposed situation at the foot of the hills
      reminded me of that of the Escurial. It has no forest of cork-trees
      and evergreen-oaks before it, nor is it to be compared, in point of
      size, with that stupendous building; but it is visible from as great
      a distance. And the Spanish sierra cannot for a moment be placed in
      competition with the verdant magnificence of the mountain-scenery
      of Kashmir.
       
      Few of the Kashmirian temples, if any, I should say, were
      Buddhist. Those in or upon the edge of the water were rather, I should
      suppose, referable to the worship of the Nagas, or snake-gods. The
      figures in all the temples are almost always in an erect position,
      and I have never been able to discover any inscription in those
      now remaining.
       
      I had been struck with the great general resemblance which the temple
      bore to the recorded disposition of the Ark and its surrounding
      curtains, in imitation of which the Temple at Jerusalem was built;
      and it became for a moment a question whether the Kashmirian temples
      had not been built by Jewish architects, who had recommended them to
      be constructed on the same plan for the sake of convenience merely. It
      is, however, a curious fact, that in Abyssinia, the ancient Ethiopia,
      which was also called "Kush," the ancient Christian churches are
      not unlike those of Kashmir, and that they were originally built in
      imitation of the temple, by the Israelites who followed the Queen
      of Sheba, whose son took possession of the throne of Kush, where his
      descendants are at this moment Kings of Abyssinia.
       
      Without being able to boast, either in extent or magnificence,
      of an approach to equality with the temple of the sun at Palmyra,
      or the ruins of the palace at Persepolis, Marttand is not without
      pretensions to a locality of scarcely inferior interest, and deserves
      to be ranked with them as the leading specimen of a gigantic style
      of architecture that has decayed with the religion it was intended
      to cherish, and the prosperity of a country it could not but adorn.
       
      In situation it is far superior to either. Palmyra is surrounded by
      an ocean of sand, and Persepolis overlooks a marsh; but the temple
      of the sun in Marttand is built upon a natural platform at the foot
      of some of the noblest mountains, and beneath its ken lies what is
      undoubtedly the finest and the most PRONONCE valley in the known world.
       
      We are not looking upon the monuments of the dead. We step not aside
      to inspect a tomb, or pause to be saddened by an elegy. The noble
      pile in the foreground is rather an emblem of age than of mortality;
      and the interest with which we perambulate its ruins is not the
      less pleasurable because we do not know much that is certain of its
      antiquity, its founders, or its original use.
       
       
       
      CHAPTER B
       
      The Mystic Sentence of Thibet.
       
       
       
      Explication et origine de la formule bouddhique: -- "Om mani padme
      houm" Par M. Klaproth. "Nouveau Journal Asiatique."
       
      Les Tubetains et les Mongols ont perpetuellement cette priere dans
      la bouche. Les mots de cette inscription sont Sanscrits, et donnent
      un sens complet dans cette langue. En voici la transcription en
      devanagri: --
       
       
      o.m ma.ni padme hu.m
       
       
      "Om" est, chez les Hindous, le nom mystique de la divinite, par lequel
      toutes les prieres commencent. Cette particule mystique equivaut
      a l'interjection, OH! prononcee avec emphase et avec une entiere
      conviction religieuse. Mani signifie LE JOYAU; Padma LE LOTUS. Enfin
      Houm est une particule qui equivaut a notre "AMEN." Le sens de la
      phrase est tres clair; "Om mani padme houm" signifie "OH! LE JOYAU
      DANS LE LOTUS, AMEN." Malgre ce sens indubitable, les Bouddhistes
      du Tubet se sont evertues a chercher un sens mystique a chacune des
      six syllabes qui composent cette phrase. Ils ont rempli des livres
      entiers de ces explications imaginaires.
       
      Cette formule est particuliere aux Bouddhistes du Tubet.
       
      Selon l'histoire de ce pays la formule Om mani padme houm, y a ete
      apportee de l'Inde vers la moitie du 7e siecle de notre ere.
       
      La legende suivante traduite du Mongol contient des details sur la
      conversion du Tubet par le dieu Padma pani,[41] et sur l'origine
      des six syllabes sacrees, Om mani padme houm. Ce dieu est appele en
      Sanscrit "Avalokites' vara" ou "le maitre qui contemple avec amour;"
      ce que les Tubetains ont rendu par "le tout-voyant aux mille mains
      et aux mille yeux:" Les Chinois on traduit le nom par "celui qui
      contemple les sous du inonde."
       
      "Autrefois, quand le 'GLORIEUX-ACCOMPLI' (Sakya mouni ou Buddh)
      sejournait dans la foret 'd'Odma,' il advint un jour, qu'etant
      entoure de ses nombreux disciples un rayon de lumiere de cinq couleurs
      sortit tout-a-coup entre ses deux sourcils, forma un arc-en-ciel, et
      se dirigea du cote de l'Empire septentrional de neige (Thibet). Les
      regards du Bouddha suivaient ce rayon, et sa figure montra un sourire
      de joie inexprimable. Un de ses disciples lui demanda de lui en
      expliquer la raison, et sur sa priere le glorieux-accompli lui dit:
       
      " 'Fils d'illustre origine! dans le pays qu'aucun Bouddha des
      trois ages n'a pu convertir, et qui est rempli d'une foule d'etres
      malfaisans, la loi se levera comme le soleil et s'y repandra dans
      les temps futurs.
       
      " 'L'apotre de cet Empire de neige apre et sauvage, sera le
      Khoutoukhtou' (Padma pani).
       
      "Apres que 'Sakya mouni' eut prononce ces paroles, un rayon de lumiere,
      eclatant comme un lotus blanc, sortit de son coeur et illumina
      toutes les regions du monde et se plongea dans le coeur du BOUDDHA
      INFINIMENT RESPLENDISSANT. Alors un autre eclat de lumiere sortit du
      Bouddha resplendissant et se plongea dans la mer des fleurs de PADMA
      (lotus), et y transmit cette pensee du Bouddha, qu'il s'en eleverait
      et qu'il en naitrait un Khoubilkhan[42] divin, destine a la conversion
      de l'Empire de neige.
       
      "Le Roi Dehdou qui etait parvenu a participer a la beatitude de
      l'empire de Soukhawatee, voulant un jour offrir au Bouddha un sacrifice
      des fleurs, depecha quelques-uns des siens aux bords de la mer des
      PADMA (Lotus), pour y cueillir de ces fleurs. Ses envoyes apercurent
      dans la mer une tres grande tige de Lotus au milieu de laquelle il
      y avait un bouton colossal entoure d'une foule de grandes feuilles,
      et jetant des rayons de lumiere de differentes couleurs. Les envoyes
      en firent leur rapport au roi, qui, rempli d'etonnement, se rendit
      avec sa cour sur un grand radeau a la place de la mer ou se trouvait
      cette tige merveilleuse.
       
      "Y'etant arrive, il presenta ses offrandes et prononca la benediction;
      le bouton s'ouvrit alors des quatre cotes, et au milieu apparut
      l'apotre de l'empire de neige, ne comme 'Khoubilkhan.' Il y etait
      assis, les jambes croisees, avait mi visage et quatre mains; les deux
      mains anterieures etaient jointes devant le coeur, la troisieme de
      droite tenait un rosaire de cristal, et la quatrieme a gauche une
      fleur de Lotus blanche, qui penchait vers l'oreille.
       
      "Sur sa figure, dont l'eclat se repandait vers les dix regions du
      monde, se montrait un sourire qui penetra dans tous les coeurs.
       
      "Le roi et sa suite porterent le 'Khoubilkhan' au palais, en poussant
      des cris de joie et entonnant des hymnes. Le roi se rendit devant le
      Bouddha eternel et lui demanda la permission d'adopter pour fils, le
      'Khoubilkhan' ne dans la mer de lotus. Mais sa demande ne fut pas
      agree et il apprit, la veritable origine de ce 'Khoubilkhan.' Le
      Bouddha infiniment resplendissant posa alors sa main sur la tete
      de celui-ci et dit 'Fils d'illustre origine! Les etres qui habitent
      l'apre empire de la neige, qu'aucun Bouddha des temps passes n'a pu
      convertir, qu'aucun du temps futurs ne convertira, et qu'aucun du
      temps present n'a converti, le seront par la force et la benediction
      de ton voeu. C'est excellant; c'est excellant! Khoutoukhtou![43]
       
      " 'Aussitot que les habitans de l'apre empire de neige te verront
      et qu'ils entendront le son des six syllabes (Om mani padme houm)
      ils seront delivres des trois naissances de mauvaise nature,
      et trouveront la beatitude par la renaissance comme etres d'une
      nature superieure. Les esprits malfaisans de l'apre empire de neige,
      ainsi que tous les etres donnant des maladies ou la mort, aussitot,
      Khoutoukhtou, qu'ils te verront et qu'ils entendront le son des six
      syllabes, ils quitteront la fureur et la mechancete qui les anime,
      et deviendront compatissans.
       
      " 'Les tigres, les pantheres, les loups, les ours et autres animaux
      feroces, aussitot, O Khoutoukhtou! qu'ils te verront et entendront le
      son des six syllabes ils adouciront leurs hurlemens, et leur fureur
      sanguinaire se changera en douceur bienveillante. Khoutoukhtou! ta
      figure et le son des six syllabes rassaiseront les affames et calmeront
      la soif des alteres; il tombera comme une pluie d'eau benite, et
      elle remplira tous leurs desirs. Khoutoukhtou! tu es l'etre gracieux
      destine a annoncer la volonte du Bouddha a cet empire de neige.
       
      " 'Selon ton example, un grand nombre de Bouddhas s'y montreront,
      dans les temps futurs, et y repandront la foi.
       
      " 'Les six syllabes sont le sommaire de toute doctrine et l'apre
      empire de neige, sera rempli de cette doctrine par la force de ces
      six syllabes --
       
       
      Om ma ni pad me houm.'
       
       
      "Apres cette consecration, le Khoutoukhtou s'agenouilla devant le
      Bouddha, joignit les mains et prononca le voeu suivant: 'Puisse-je
      etre en etat de pouvoir faire parvenir a la beatitude les six especes
      d'etres vivans dans les trois royaumes! Puisse-je, avant tout,
      conduire sur le chemin du bonheur, les etres vivans de l'empire de
      neige (Thibet).
       
      " 'Loin de moi le desir de retourner dans mon Empire de joie, avant
      d'avoir acheve l'oeuvre si difficile de la conversion de ces etres. Si
      une telle pensee, produite par le degout et la mauvaise humeur,
      s'empare de moi, que ma tete se fende en dix parties, et mon corps,
      comme cette fleur de lotus, en mille.'
       
      "Apres ces mots, il se rendit dans le royaume de l'enfer, prononca les
      six syllabes et detruisit les peines des enfers frois et chauds. De
      la il s'eleva au royaume des animaux, prononca les six syllabes et
      detruisit la peine que leur produit la chasse. Puis il se rendit dans
      l'empire des hommes, prononca les six syllabes et detruisit la peine de
      la naissance, de l'age, des maladies et de la mort. Il s'eleva apres
      a l'empire des genies du ciel, prononca les six syllabes et detruisit
      l'envie qui les tourmente pour se disputer et se combattre. Enfin,
      il aborda le grand Royaume de neige (le Tubet).
       
      "Ici, il apercut la mer d' 'Otang' comme un enfer terrible, et il
      vit que derechef, plusieurs millions d'etres y'etaient, bouillis,
      brules, et martyrises.
       
      "Le Khoutouktou se rendit au bord de la mer et dit: 'Oh! que tant de
      milliers d'etres qui se trouvent dans cette mer, ou ils souffrent des
      tourmens inexprimables par la chaleur, le froid, la faim, et la soif,
      puissent rejeter loin d'eux leur enveloppe funeste et renaitre dans
      mon paradis commes etres superieures. Om mani padme houm!'
       
      "A peine le 'Khoutoukhtou' avait-il prononce ces mots que les tourmens
      des damnes cesserent; leur esprit fut tranquillise, et ils se virent
      transportes sur le chemin du Bouddha. Le Khoutoukhtou ayant ainsi
      rendu propres a la delivrance les six especes des etres vivans dans
      les trois royaumes du monde, se trouva fatigue, se reposa et tomba
      dans un etat de contemplation interieure!
       
      "Apres quelques temps il vit qu'a peine la centieme partie des
      habitans de l'empire de neige avaient ete conduits sur le chemin de
      la delivrance. Son ame en fut si douloureusement affectee qu'il eut
      le desir de retourner dans son paradis. A peine l'avait-il concu,
      qu'ensuite de ce voeu, sa tete se fendit en dix et son corps en
      mille pieces.
       
      "Le Bouddha infiniment resplendissant lui apparut dans le meme moment,
      guerit la tete et le corps fendus du Khoutoukhtou, le prit par la main
      et lui dit: "Fils d'illustre origine! Vois les suites inevitables de
      ton voeu; mais parce que tu l'avais fait pour l'illustration de tous
      les Bouddhas, tu as ete gueri sur-le-champ. Ne sois donc plus triste,
      car quoique ta tete se soit fendue en dix pieces, chacune aura,
      par ma benediction, une face particuliere, et au-dessus d'elles sera
      place mon propre visage rayonnant. Cet onzieme visage de L'INFINIMENT
      RESPLENDISSANT, place au-dessus de tes dix autres, te rendra l'objet
      de l'adoration.
       
      " 'Quoique ton corps se soit fendu en mille morceaux, ils deviendront,
      par ma benediction, mille mains qui representeront les mille Bouddhas
      d'un age complet du monde (en sanscrit Kalpa),[44] et qui te rendront
      l'objet le plus digne d'adoration.' "
       
      Cette legende nous explique, non seulement l'extreme importance que
      les Bouddhistes du Tubet attachent a la formule "Om mani padme houm,"
      mais elle nous demontre aussi que son veritable sens est celui que
      j'ai donne plus haut: Oh! le joyau dans le lotus; Amen! Il est evident
      qu'elle se rapporte a "Avalokites' vara" ou "Padma pani" lui-meme,
      qui naquit dans une fleur de lotus.[45]
       
       
       
      Um Mani Panee.
       
      As will be seen by the foregoing extract from M. Klaproth's
      explanation, the mystic sentence, instead of being as I have
      represented it, is in reality, "Om mani padme houm," or, in a form
      of spelling more English, if not more intelligible, "Om muni pudmay
      hoom," and the meaning, supposing its derivation from the Sanscrit to
      be beyond doubt, would, as therein translated, be, "Oh the jewel in the
      Lotus, Amen!" Almost every traveller who has mentioned the inscription
      in question appears to have followed M. Klaproth's pronunciation as
      above; but this, although the one actually given by the value of
      the Thibetian letters, is certainly not that in use by the people
      among whom it is chiefly, if not alone, to be found. This I can vouch
      for, as the words were so incessantly in the mouths of all to whom
      I applied for information, that I had ample opportunity of hearing
      and remembering their sound; and having written them on the spot in
      the Persian character, the pronunciation would not be open to the
      misapprehension or uncertainty to which, after the sounds themselves
      had been forgotten, the English form of spelling might have rendered
      them liable.[46]
       
      A form, however, different from both these, is given by one who, with
      the exception perhaps of M. Hue, had better opportunities than most
      others for ascertaining the meaning of the words and hearing their
      actual pronunciation: this was Captain Turner, who was nominated by
      Warren Hastings, in the year 1783, to undertake an embassy to the
      Court of Thibet, at Lassa.
       
      He, however, makes no mention of the Sanscrit translation above given,
      and confesses his inability to obtain, even at the head-quarters
      of Thibetian Buddhism, a satisfactory explanation of the origin or
      import of the sentence. The following account, taken from Captain
      Turner's Report on his Mission, may be of interest, as it explains
      the circumstances under which an event so unusual as an embassy to
      the Court of Thibet was agreed to by the Grand Lama.
       
      In 1772, a frontier warfare having broken out between the "Booteas,"
      dependants of Thibet, and the English Government, in consequence of
      the aggression of the former, Teshoo Lama, at the time regent of Thibet
      and guardian of the Delai Lama, his superior in religious rank, united
      in his own person the political authority and the spiritual hierarchy
      of the country, subservient only to the Emperor of China. The Lama,
      interested for the safety of Bootan, sent a deputation to Calcutta,
      with a letter addressed to the governor, of which the following
      is a translation: -- "The affairs of this quarter in every respect
      flourish. I am, night and day, employed in prayers for the increase
      of your happiness and prosperity. Having been informed, by travellers
      from your country, of your exalted fame and reputation, my heart, like
      the blossoms of spring, abounds with satisfaction, gladness, and joy.
       
      "Praise be to God that the star of your fortune is in its
      ascension! Praise be to Him that happiness and ease are the surrounding
      attendants of myself and family! Neither to molest, nor persecute,
      is my aim. It is even the characteristic of our sect to deprive
      ourselves of the necessary refreshment of sleep, should an injury
      be done to a single individual; but in justice and humanity, I am
      informed, you far surpass us.
       
      "May you ever adorn the seat of justice and power, that mankind may, in
      the shadow of your bosom, enjoy the blessings of peace and affluence."
       
      The Lama then enters into the subject of the disturbances between
      his dependants and the British Government, and concludes: -- "As to
      my part, I am but a Fakeer; and it is the custom of my sect, with
      the rosary in our hands, to pray for the welfare of all mankind,
      and especially for the peace and happiness of the inhabitants of this
      country; and I do now, with my head uncovered, intreat that you will
      cease from all hostilities in future. In this country the worship of
      the Almighty is the profession of all. We poor creatures are in nothing
      equal to you. Having, however, a few things in hand, I send them to you
      as tokens of remembrance, and hope for your acceptance of them."[47]
       
      The Lama being in this unusually agreeable frame of mind, the British
      Government yielded without hesitation to his intercession.
       
      The governor himself readily embraced the opportunity, which he
      thought the occurrence afforded, of extending the British influence to
      a quarter of the world but little known, and with which we possessed
      hardly any commercial connexion.
       
      In 1774 a deputation was sent to carry back an answer to the Lama, and
      to offer him suitable presents. It was furnished also with a variety
      of articles of English manufacture, to be produced as specimens of
      the trade in which the subjects of the Lama might be invited to
      participate. The result was, that in 1779, when the Lama visited
      the Emperor of China at Pekin, desirous of improving his connexion
      with the Government of Bengal, he desired the British envoy to go
      round by sea to Canton, promising to join him at the capital. The
      Emperor's promise was at the same time obtained to permit the first
      openings of an intercourse between that country and Bengal, through
      the intermediate channel furnished by the Lama.
       
      The death of both the Lama and the envoy, however, which happened
      nearly at the same time, destroyed the plans thus formed.
       
      Soon after the receipt of the letters announcing the Lama's death,
      intelligence arrived of his reappearance in Thibet! His soul, according
      to the doctrines of their faith, had passed into and animated the
      body of an infant, who, on the discovery of his identity by such
      testimony as their religion prescribes, was proclaimed by the same
      title as his predecessor.
       
      Warren Hastings then proposed a second deputation to Thibet, and
      Captain Turner was accordingly nominated on the 9th January, 1783.
       
      His mention of the sculptured stones and inscription is as follows: --
       
      "Another sort of monument is a long wall, on both faces of which
      near the top are inserted large tablets with the words 'Oom maunee
      paimee oom' carved in relief. This is the sacred sentence repeated
      upon the rosaries of the Lamas, and in general use in Tibet. Of the
      form of words to which ideas of peculiar sanctity are annexed by the
      inhabitants, I could never obtain a satisfactory explanation. It
      is frequently engraven on the rocks in large and deep characters,
      and sometimes I have seen it on the sides of hills; the letters,
      which are formed by means of stones fixed in the earth, are of so
      vast a magnitude as to be visible at a very considerable distance."
       
      M. Hue's account of an explanation of the formula, which he received
      from the highest authority at Lassa, is as follows: -- "Living beings
      are divided into six classes -- angels, demons, men, quadrupeds,
      birds, and reptiles. These six classes of beings correspond to the
      syllables of the formula, 'Om mani padme houm.' Living beings by
      continual transformations, and according to their merit or demerit,
      pass about in these six classes until they have attained the apex
      of perfection, when they are absorbed and lost in the grand essence
      of Buddha. Living beings have, according to the class to which they
      belong, particular means of sanctifying themselves, of rising to a
      superior class, of obtaining perfection, and of arriving in process
      of time at the period of their absorption. Men who repeat very
      frequently and devotedly 'Om mani padme houm,' escape falling after
      death into the six classes of animate creatures, corresponding to
      the six syllables of the formula, and obtain the plenitude of being,
      by their absorption into the eternal and universal soul of Buddha."
       
      One traveller only I have been able to find who mentions the sentence
      as I have done. M. Jacquemont writes, in his "Letters from Cashmere
      and Thibet," in 1830: -- "I am returned from afar; I have often been
      very cold; I have had a hundred and eighteen very bad dinners: but
      I think myself amply recompensed for these trans-Himalayan miseries
      by the interesting observations and vast collections which I have
      been able to make in a country perfectly new. The Tartars are a very
      good sort of people. It is true that to please them I made myself
      a little heathen after their fashion, and joined without scruple in
      the national chorus, 'Houm mani pani houm.' "
       
      Judging by the system of spelling he has adopted in other instances in
      his letters, this would be nearly -- as regards the two main words --
      the same pronunciation as I have given. He however, in another part,
      follows it still more closely, and at the same time shows that he
      is aware of a translation which, although probably the true one,
      has no connexion whatever with the words as he himself actually
      represents them.
       
      He says -- "In Thibet they sing a good deal also -- that is, one or two
      inhabitants per square league -- but only a single song of three words
      -- 'Oum mani pani;' which means, in the learned language, 'Oh, diamond
      water-lily!' and leads the singers direct into Buddha's paradise.
       
      "But, though composed of three Thibetian words, it is evidently of
      Indian origin, and I have proved it BOTANICALLY. The lotus is a plant
      peculiar to the lukewarm and temperate waters of India and Egypt. There
      is not one of its genus, or even of its family, in Thibet."
       
      The words, however, are not, as M. Jacquemont says, Thibetian,
      but Sanscrit; and, although one of the characters in which they are
      clothed is the current Thibetian, it would appear that neither their
      true pronunciation nor actual meaning is known to the people who thus
      make such frequent use of them.
       
      The sentence itself is in the mouths of all. In the monastery of Hemis
      alone, probably as many as a hundred wheels are in continual motion,
      bearing it within their folds not less than 1,700,000 times. The very
      stones by the wayside present its well-known characters in countless
      numbers, and the hills repeat it, and yet to those into whose daily
      religious observances it thus so largely enters, it comes but as
      a vain and empty sound, without either sense or signification. The
      Lamas themselves, no doubt, believe that the doctrine contained in
      these marvellous words is immense, and the higher dignitaries of
      the Church may know their derivation; but, to the great majority,
      even the mystic meaning and dim legendary history which the true
      pronunciation and rightful origin of the words would bring to their
      minds, are unknown, and they are thus deprived of that large amount
      of comfort and consolation which they would otherwise derive from
      the glowing and all-powerful sentence --
       
      "Oh, the jewel in the lotus, Amen!"
       
       
       
      CHAPTER C
       
      A Sketch of the History of Cashmere.
       
      A Mahomedan Writer, "Noor ul deen," who begins the history of Cashmere
      with the Creation, affirms that the valley was visited by Adam after
      the Fall; that the descendants of Seth reigned over the country for
      1,110 years; and that, after the deluge, it became peopled by a tribe
      from Turkistan.
       
      The Hindoo historians add, that, after the line of Seth became extinct,
      the Hindoos conquered the country, and ruled it until the period
      of the deluge; and that the Cashmerians were afterwards taught the
      worship of one God by "Moses;" but, relapsing into Hindoo idolatry,
      were punished by the local inundation of the province, and the
      conversion of the valley into a vast lake.
       
      It would appear, from chronicles actually existing, that Cashmere
      has been a regular kingdom for a period far beyond the limits of
      history in general. From the year B.C. 2666 to A.D. 1024 it seems
      to have been governed (according to these authorities) by Princes of
      Hindoo and Tartar dynasties, and their names, to the number of about
      a hundred, have been duly handed down to posterity. Of the titles of
      these worthies, "Durlabhaverddhana" and "Bikrumajeet" will perhaps
      be sufficient as specimens. During these years, the religion seems
      at first to have been the worship of snakes, and afterwards Hindooism.
       
      In the reign of Asoca, about the 4th century before Christ, Buddhism
      was introduced, and after remaining for some time, under Tartar
      princes, the religion of the country, was again succeeded by Hindooism.
       
      The first Mahomedan king of Cashmere is believed to be "Shahmar,"
      who came to the throne in A.D. 1341, and during the succeeding reigns
      Thibet appears to have been first subdued, and was annexed for a time
      to the kingdom.
       
      The next monarch, who appears notably on the stage, was "Sikunder,"
      who, influenced by a certain Syud Alee Humudanee and other religious
      fanatics recently arrived in the country, began to destroy the
      Hindoo temples and images by fire, and to force the people to abjure
      idolatry. Previous to this influx of zealots, the country was in a
      transition state as regards religion and Mahomedanism then began to
      make some head in the valley.
       
      After this period nothing of very great importance occurred in the
      kingdom of Cashmere until the year 1584, when the great Akbar summoned
      the then king "Yusuf Shah" to present himself in person at the court of
      Lahore. Finding his orders not complied with, he despatched an army of
      50,000 men to enforce obedience, and Yusuf Shah, preferring apparently
      to die than fight, delivered himself up, and was sent to Lahore.
       
      The imperial army was afterwards, however, repulsed in attempting to
      subdue the country, and it was not finally conquered for two years,
      when Akbar, overcoming all resistance, took possession of the province.
       
      The purity of the emperor's motives in annexing the territory, and
      his opinion of his conquest, are amusingly shown in the following
      letter to his minister Abdullah Khan: --
       
      "On the mirror of your mind, which bears the stamp of Divine
      illumination, be it manifest and evident, that at the time when my
      imperial army happened to be in the territories of the Punjab, although
      I at first had no other views than to amuse myself with sports and
      hunting in this country, yet the conquest of the enchanting kingdom
      of Cashmere, which has never yet been subdued by monarchs of the
      age, which for natural strength and inaccessibility is unrivalled,
      and which, for beauty and pleasantness, is a proverb among the most
      sagacious beholders, became secretly an object of my wishes, BECAUSE
      I received constantly accounts of the tyranny of the rulers of that
      region. Accordingly, in a very short time, my brave warriors annexed
      that kingdom to my dominions. Though the princes of that country were
      not remiss in their exertions, yet, as my intentions were established
      on the basis of equity, it was completely conquered.
       
      "I myself also visited that happy spot, the possession of which is
      a fresh instance of the Divine favour, and offered up my praise and
      thanksgiving to the supreme Lord of all things. As I found myself
      delighted with the romantic bowers of Cashmere, the residence of
      pleasure, I made an excursion to the mountains of that country and
      Thibet, and beheld, with the eyes of astonishment, the wonders of
      the picture of Nature."
       
      This visit was in A.D. 1588.
       
      The emperor then appears to have entered the valley by the Peer Punjal
      Pass, and to have been received with every demonstration of joy by
      the people in whom he took such a fatherly interest. The loyalty of
      his children, however, was but short-lived, for about the year 1591
      he again writes to Abdullah: --
       
      "I must acquaint your Highness, that just at this time certain persons,
      under the predominance of an unlucky destiny, raised an insurrection
      in Cashmere and breathed the air of rebellion and dissatisfaction at
      the bounty of Providence.
       
      "As soon as the intelligence of this tumult arrived, regardless of
      deluges of rain, I hastened away by forced marches, but before the
      troops could get through the passes and enter into that kingdom,
      certain Omrahs, attached to my interests, who had been obliged by
      compulsion to join in that rash enterprise, availing themselves of
      an opportunity, brought me the head of the rebel commander.
       
      "As my forces were near, I visited a second time that ever-verdant
      garden, and gratified my mind and senses with the beauties of that
      luxuriant spot."
       
      With a view to keeping the capital in order, the Fort of Huree Purbut
      was built, about A.D. 1597, at a cost of over 1,000,000L.
       
      Means were at the same time adopted of rendering the Cashmerians less
      warlike, and of breaking their independent spirit. To effect this,
      it is generally believed in Cashmere that the Emperor Akbar caused a
      change to be made in the dress of the people. Instead of the ancient,
      well-girdled tunic, adapted to activity and exercise, he introduced
      the effeminate long gown of the present day, a change which may have
      led to the introduction of the kangree, or pot of charcoal, now used
      in the valley.
       
      During Akbar's reign much was done towards the improvement of the
      province. The country was adorned with palaces and gardens, and
      various trees and shrubs were introduced and cultivated.
       
      About the beginning of the seventeenth century, Akbar visited
      Cashmere for the third and last time, being succeeded, after a reign
      of fifty-two years, by his son Selim, or Jehangeer, A.D. 1605.
       
      Jehangeer, during the early part of his reign, visited Cashmere
      many times, and the valley having been surveyed and brought to
      order by Akbar, nothing remained for his successor but to enjoy the
      delights of the country in company with his empress, the famous Noor
      Jehan. In 1621, and in 1624, he repeated his visit, when he built many
      summerhouses and palaces at Atchabull, Shalimar, &c., and in A.D. 1627
      he visited the valley for the last time. He was succeeded in that
      year by Shah Jehan, who, in 1634, also visited his territories; and,
      besides improving the country by the introduction of fruit-trees,
      flowers, &c. from Cabul, he invaded Thibet, and taking the Fort of
      Ladak, annexed the country to Cashmere.
       
      In 1645 he again visited the valley, and also in the following years,
      being accompanied by many poets and savants; among the former was
      a certain Hajee Mahomet Jan, a Persian, who composed a poem on the
      country; but the difficulties of the road appear to have impressed
      his mind rather more than the beauties of the scenery. He compares
      the sharpness of the passes to "the swords of the Feringees," and
      their tortuous ascents to "the curls of a blackamoor's hair!"
       
      In 1657, Shah Jehan, being deposed by his son Aurungzib, was confined
      in the Fort of Agra for life; and in the year 1664 the new emperor
      also paid a visit to his Cashmerian dominions. Of this magnificent
      expedition, M. Bernier, the monarch's state physician, gives an
      amusing and detailed description, purporting to be
       
      "A relation of a voyage made in the year 1664, when the Great Mogul,
      Aureng-Zebe, went with his army from, Dehly to Lahor, from Lahor
      to Bember, and from thence to that small kingdom of Kachemere, or
      Cassimere, called by the Mogols the Paradise of the Indies, concerning
      which the author affirms that he hath a particular history of it,
      in the Persian tongue."
       
      "The weighty occasion and cause of this voyage of the Emperor's,
      together with an account of the state and posture of his army,
      and some curious particulars observable in voyages of the Indies,"
      are thus given by M. Bernier: -- "Since that Aureng-Zebe began to
      find himself in better health, it hath been constantly reported
      that he would make a voyage to Kachemere, to be out of the way of
      the approaching summer heats, though the more intelligent sort of
      men would hardly be persuaded, that as long as he kept his father,
      Chah-Jean (Shah Jehan), prisoner in the Fort of Agra, he would think
      it safe to be at such a distance. Yet, notwithstanding, we have found
      that reason of State hath given place to that of health, or rather,
      to the intrigues of Rauchenara Begum, who was wild to breathe a more
      free air than that of the Seraglio, and to have her turn in showing
      herself to a gallant and magnificent army, as her sister had formerly
      done during the reign of Chah-Jean."
       
      The Emperor appears to have made preparations on this occasion for
      a voyage of a year and a half.
       
      He had with him, not only thirty-five thousand horse, or thereabouts,
      and ten thousand foot, but also "both his artilleries, the great or
      heavy, and the small or lighter.
       
      For the carriage of the Emperor's baggage and stores, no less than
      30,000 coolies were required, although, for fear of starving that
      little kingdom of Kachemere," he only carried with him the least
      number of ladies and cavaliers he could manage, and as few elephants
      and mules as would suffice for the convenience of the former.
       
      Crossing the Peer Punjal, some of the ladies of the Seraglio
      unfortunately paid the penalty of their too ardent desires to show
      themselves off to "a gallant and magnificent army," for "one of the
      elephants fell back upon him that was next, and he upon the next, and
      so on to the fifteenth, so that they did all tumble to the bottom of
      the precipice. It was the good fortune of those poor women, however,
      that there were but three or four of them killed; but the fifteen
      elephants remained upon the place." The historian rather ungallantly
      adds, "When these bulky masses do once fall under THOSE VAST BURDENS
      they never rise again, though the way be ever so fair."
       
      On reaching the summit of the pass after this accident, the expedition
      appears to have encountered more misfortunes, for "there blew a wind so
      cold that all people shook and ran away, especially the silly Indians,
      who never had seen ice or snow, or felt such cold."
       
      Aurungzib appears to have remained three months in the valley on
      this occasion.
       
      After his death there is no mention of his successors having visited
      Cashmere, and the local governors became in consequence, in common
      with those of other provinces of the tottering Mogul throne, little
      short of independent rulers. Under the tender mercies of most of these,
      the unfortunate Cashmeeries appear to have fared but badly.
       
      In 1745, however, a series of misfortunes from another source burst
      forth upon the inhabitants of the happy valley. A dreadful famine
      first broke out, during which it is said that slaves sold for four
      pice (three half-pence) each. The famine produced its natural result,
      a pestilence, which swept away many thousands of the people; an
      eclipse also added to their terror, and storms of rain followed by
      floods carried away all the bridges.
       
      In the year 1752, the country passed from the possession of the Mogul
      throne, and fell under the rule of the Duranees, and during many
      years was convulsed by a series of wars and rebellions, and subject
      to numerous different governors. In A.D. 1801, Runjeet Singh began to
      come into notice, and, having consolidated the nation of the Sikhs,
      had, in the year 1813 become one of the recognised princes of India. In
      that year Futteh Shah entered into a treaty with him for a subsidiary
      force for the invasion of Cashmere. The price of this accommodation
      was fixed at 80,000L. yearly; but, before the expiration of the second
      year, the Lion of the Punjab, on pretence of the non-fulfilment of
      the treaty, invaded the valley on his own account at the head of a
      considerable army. He was repulsed, however, and forced to retreat to
      Lahore with the loss of his entire baggage. In A.D. 1819, encouraged
      by recent successes against Moultan, Runjeet Singh collected an army
      "as numerous as ants and locusts," and invaded the valley a second
      time, and being successful, the country again fell under the sway of
      a Hindoo Sovereign.
       
      It, however, remained for some time afterwards in a disturbed state;
      and for signal services against the rebellious frontier chiefs, who
      were averse to Runjeet Singh's rule, Gulab Singh (the late Maharajah)
      obtained possession of the territory of Jumoo, now included in the
      kingdom of Cashmere.
       
      Runjeet Singh, dying in 1839, was succeeded by his son and grandson,
      successively, both of whom died shortly after their accession; and
      the state of anarchy and confusion which ensued among the Sikh Sirdars
      was terminated by Shere Singh being installed as Maharajah of Lahore.
       
      Under his rule, in 1842, Gulab Singh further brought himself into
      notice by reducing the kingdom of little Thibet with the army under
      Zorawur Singh, and on the termination of the Sikh Campaign of the
      Sutlej -- Duleep Singh being established on the throne of Lahore --
      he was admitted, "in consideration of his good conduct," to the
      privileges of a separate treaty with the British Government.
       
      The result of these privileges was, that he was shortly afterwards
      put in possession, for "a consideration," of the entire kingdom
      of Cashmere.
       
      As indemnification for the expenses of the Sikh Campaign, the British
      Government had demanded from the Lahore State the sum of a crore and
      a half of rupees, or 1,500,000L. The whole of this amount, however,
      was not forthcoming, and it was agreed by Article 4 of the treaty
      of 9th March, 1846, with the Maharajah Duleep Singh, that all the
      hill-country between the rivers Indus and Beas, including the province
      of Cashmere, should be ceded to the Honourable East India Company,
      in perpetual sovereignty, as an equivalent for one million sterling.
       
      Article 12 of the same treaty guaranteed to Gulab Singh, in
      consequence of his services to the Lahore State, its recognition of his
      independence in such territories as might afterwards be agreed upon;
      and on the 16th March, 1846, the British Government, by special treaty,
      made over for ever, in independent possession to Maharajah Gulab Singh
      and the heirs male of his body, the greater part of the territories
      previously mentioned in Article 4. In consideration of this transfer,
      the Maharajah was to pay to the British Government, within the year,
      the sum of seventy-five lakhs of rupees (750,000L.). To acknowledge
      the supremacy of that Government, and, in token of such supremacy,
      to present it annually the following tribute, viz.: -- One horse,
      twelve perfect shawl goats of approved breed (six male and six female),
      and three pairs of Cashmere shawls.
       
      Thus, "on the 16th day of March, in the year of our Lord 1846,
      corresponding with the 17th day of Rubbeeoolawul, 1262, Hijree, was
      DONE at Umritsur," the treaty of ten articles, by which Gulab Singh
      was raised to the rank and dignity of an independent ruler.
       
      For seventy-five lakhs of rupees the unfortunate Cashmeeries were
      handed over to the tender mercies of "the most thorough ruffian that
      ever was created -- a villain from a kingdom down to a half-penny,"
      and the "Paradise of the Indies," after remaining rather less than
      a week a British possession, was relinquished by England for ever.
       
      The End.
       
       
       
       
       
       
      NOTES
       
      [1] -- VIDE Appendix A
       
      [2] -- ROADS -- I. There are four authorized routes for European
      visitors to Cashmere.
       
      FIRST. The principal road from the plains by Bimbhur and Rajaoree. This
      road over the "Peer Punjal" range is not open until May, and is closed
      by snow at the beginning of November: it is the old imperial route,
      and the stages are marked by the remains of serais.
       
      [3] -- A hill conveyance something similar to a hammock, suspended from
      a pole, with straps for the feet and back, and carried by two bearers.
       
      [4] -- M. Jacquemont, in his "Letters from Kashmir and Thibet,"
      carried away no doubt by the ardour of Botanical research, mentions
      having made a similar discovery, in the following glowing terms:  --
      "The mountains here produce rhubarb; celestial happiness!"
       
      [5] -- The Pass of the Peer Punjal is 13,000 feet above the level of
      the sea; the highest peak of the range being 15,000.
       
      [6] -- Supposed to designate "The City of the Sun;" Surya meaning in
      Sanscrit "the Sun," and Nugger "a City."
       
      [7] -- Cashmere seems to have been regarded for many ages merely as
      a source of wealth to its absentee lords or present governors, and
      to have suffered more than ever, since falling under the dominion of
      Hindoo rulers.
       
      Of the first of this dynasty, who subdued and took possession of
      the valley in the year 1819, Vigne remarks, in his Travels, "Runjeet
      Singh assuredly well knew that the greater the prosperity of Kashmir,
      the stronger would be the inducement to invasion by the East India
      Company. 'Apres moi le deluge' has been his motto, and its ruin
      has been accelerated not less by his rapacity than by his political
      jealousy, which suggested to him at any cost the merciless removal
      of its wealth and the reckless havoc he has made in its resources."
       
      [8] -- The Tukt-i-Suliman, an old Hindoo temple, the throne of Solomon
      the magnificent, the prophet, the mighty magician, whom all pious
      Mussulmans believe to have been carried through the air on a throne
      supported by Dives or Afrites, whom the Almighty had made subservient
      to His will. -- Vigne. The summit stands 1,000 feet above the level
      of the plain, and the date of its erection is believed to be 220
      B.C. VIDE Appendix A.
       
      [9] -- "There is no God but God;" "In the name of God."
       
      [10] -- This was written without being aware that the native name
      of Mutton is a corruption of Martund, by which name the temple is
      also designated.
       
      The meaning of Martund being in Sanscrit "the Sun," additional grounds
      have thus been furnished for determining the origin of the ruin. VIDE
      Appendix A.
       
      [11] -- On this subject a good deal of difference of opinion seems
      to exist, and from Moore's descriptions of the furniture of his
      terrestrial paradise, which have added so much to the fame of the
      valley, it appears probable that his "muse," thinking it useless
      to search abroad for materials which existed in abundance at home,
      supplied him with what he supposed to be Eastern celestial creations,
      entirely from his native shores. Vigne, however, says, "I do not think
      that the beauty of the Kashmirian women has been overrated. They are,
      of course, wholly deficient in the graces and fascinations derivable
      from cultivation and accomplishment; but for mere uneducated eyes,
      I know of none that surpass those of Kashmir." On the other hand,
      M. Jacquemont, who found "celestial happiness" in a plant of rhubarb,
      is unable to discover any beauty whatever in the Cashmerian ladies,
      and has no patience with his neighbour's little flights of fancy in
      depicting their perfections. "Moore," he writes, in his "Letters from
      India," "is a perfumer, and a liar to boot. Know that I have never
      seen anywhere such hideous witches as in Cashmere. The female race is
      remarkably ugly." Instead of adding to such conflicting evidence, I
      have endeavoured to subpoena a credible witness to speak for herself;
      and the right of private judgment being thus reserved to the reader,
      Gulabie will no doubt be charitably dealt with, and will find her
      proper position somewhere within the limits of a "hideous witch"
      and a "celestial being."
       
      [12] -- This place is mentioned in the "Tuzuk Jehangeery," or "Precepts
      of Jehangeer," in a way which shows that the Conqueror of the World
      had not included himself among his victories.
       
      The name appears on a Persian inscription as Wurnagh, but is called
      by the natives Vernagh, and is mentioned by Jehangeer in his journal
      as Tirnagh: --
       
      "The source of the river Bhet (Jhelum)[*] lies in a fountain in Cashmeer,
      named Tirnagh, which, in the language, of Hindostan, signifies a
      snake -- probably some large snake had been seen there. During the
      lifetime of my father (Akbar) I went twice to this fountain, which
      is about twenty kos from the city of Cashmere. Its form is octagonal,
      and the sides of it are about twenty yards in length.
       
      "I accompanied my father to this spot during the season of flowers. In
      some places the beds of saffron-flowers extend to a kos. Their
      appearance is best at a distance, and when they are plucked they
      emit a strong smell. My attendants were all seized with a headache,
      and though I was myself at the time intoxicated with liquor, I felt
      also my head affected. I inquired of the brutal Cashmeerians who were
      employed in plucking them, what was their condition, and they replied
      that they never had a headache in their lifetime."
       
      [*] -- The Jhelum is called in Cashmere, Behat -- a contraction of the
      Sanscrit VEDASTA, which the Greeks slightly altered to Hydaspes.
       
      [13] -- The title of Noor-ul-deen is also mentioned by Jehangeer in
      his Journal from Lahore to Cabul, and its origin is thus accounted
      for in his own words:
       
      "Now that I had become a king, it occurred to me that I ought to change
      my name, which was liable to be confounded with that of the Caesars,
      of Rome.
       
      "The Secret Inspirer of thoughts suggested to me that, as the business
      of kings is the conquest of the world, I ought to assume the name of
      Jehangeer, or Conqueror of the World; and that as my accession to the
      throne had taken place, about sunrise, I ought therefore to take the
      title of Noor-ul-deen, or the Light of Religion. I had heard during
      the time of my youth from several learned Hindoos, that after the
      expiration of the reign of Akbar, the throne would be filled by a
      kin, named Noor-ul-deen. This circumstance made an impression on me,
      and I therefore assumed the name and title of Jehangeer Badshah."
       
      [14] -- These ruins appear to be in the greatest dilapidation of any
      in the valley. The date of their erection is believed to be A.D. 852.
       
      [15] -- See Appendix A.
       
      [16] -- VIDE Appendix A.
       
      [17] -- These monuments would appear to be of the kind designated
      Chod-tens and Dung-tens, which have been thus described: -- "In the
      monuments which are dedicated to the celestial Buddha, the invisible
      being who pervades all space, no deposit was made; but the Divine
      Spirit, who was light, was supposed to occupy the interim. Such are
      the numerous Chod-tens in Tibet dedicated to the celestial Buddha,
      in contradistinction to the Dung-tens, which are built in honour of
      the mortal Buddhas, and which ought to contain some portion of their
      relies, real or supposed. The first means an offering to the Deity,
      the latter a bone or relic receptacle. In the Sanscrit these are
      termed Chaitya and Dagoba." -- Cunningham.
       
      [18] -- This appears to have been one of the Dagobas or bone-holders,
      which are erected either over the corse of a Lama or the ashes of some
      person of consequence. "The tribute of respect is paid in Tibet to
      the manes of the dead in various ways. It is the custom to preserve
      entire the mortal remains of the sovereign Lamas only. As soon as
      life has left the body of a Lama, it is placed upright, sitting
      in an attitude of devotion, his legs being folded before him, with
      the instep resting on each thigh, and the sides of the feet turned
      upwards. The right hand is rested with its back upon the thigh, with
      the thumb bent across the palm. The left arm is bent and held close
      to the body, the hand being open and the thumb touching the point of
      the shoulder. This is the attitude of abstracted meditation.
       
      "The bodies of inferior Lamas are usually burnt, and their ashes
      preserved with the greatest care, and the monuments in which they
      are contained are ever after looked upon as sacred, and visited with
      religious awe." -- Turner.
       
      [19] -- jo khula kariga so kui nahin kariga
       
      [20] -- "Tibet may be considered the head-quarters of Buddhism in
      the present age, and immense volumes are still to be found in that
      country (faithful translations of the Sanskrit text), which refer to
      the manners, customs, opinions, knowledge, ignorance, superstition,
      hopes and fears of a great part of Asia, especially of India in former
      ages." -- Csoma de Koros, PREFACE TO TIBETAN GRAMMAR.
       
      [21] -- These stones would appear to be peculiar to Thibet, although
      the sentence inscribed upon them has been occasionally discovered
      elsewhere. Mention of it is thus made in the Journal of the Asiatic
      Society of Bengal: -- "On the main road from the Valley of Nipal to
      Tibet stands a diminutive stone, 'Chaitya.' Upon this is inscribed
      a variety of texts from the Buddha Scriptures, and amongst others
      the celebrated Mantra, or charmed sentence of Tibet. The system of
      letters called Lantza in Tibet, and there considered foreign and
      Indian, though nowhere extant in the Plains of India, is the common
      vehicle of Sanscrit language among the Buddhists of Nipal Proper,
      by whom it is denominated Ranja, in Devanagri ra.mjaa
       
      "Ranja, therefore, and not, according to a barbarian metamorphosis,
      Lantza, it should be called by us, and by way of further and clearer
      distinction, the Nipalese variety of Devanagri. Obviously deducible
      as this form is from the Indian standard, it is interesting to observe
      it in practical collocation with the ordinary Thibetan form, and when
      it is considered that Lantza or Ranja is the common extant vehicle
      of those original Sanscrit works of which the Thibetan books are
      translations, the interest of an inscription traced on one slab in
      both characters cannot but be allowed to be considerable. The habit
      of promulgation of the doctrines of their faith by inscriptions
      patent on the face of religious edifices, stones, &c., is peculiar
      to the Buddhists of Thibet. The Mantra is also quite unknown to the
      Buddhists of Ceylon and the Eastern peninsula, and forms the peculiar
      feature of Thibetan Buddhism."
       
      [22] -- This was the only explanation of the mounds of inscribed stones
      which I was able to obtain from a native source; and some foundation
      for the story may be traced in the legend -- which will be found in
      Appendix B -- upon which M. Klaproth has founded the only explanation
      of the mystic inscription, which I have been as yet able to discover.
       
      By the Lamas themselves I never heard these mounds alluded to
      otherwise than by the words "Mani panee." Cunningham, however,
      who had ample opportunity of ascertaining their meaning and origin,
      terms them "Manis" (in another form of spelling, "Munees"), and thus
      describes them: -- "The Mani -- a word naturalized from the Sanscrit
      -- is a stone dyke, from four to five feet high, and from six to
      twelve in breadth; length from ten or twenty feet to half a mile The
      surface of the Mani is always covered with inscribed slabs; these
      are votive offerings from all classes of people for the attainment
      of some particular object. Does a childless man wish for a son, or a
      merchant about to travel hope for a safe return; each goes to a Lama
      and purchases a slate, which he deposits carefully on the village
      'Mani,' and returns to his home in full confidence that his prayers
      will be heard."
       
      [23] -- This was in all probability intended to represent the form
      of the lotus. VIDE Appendix B.
       
      [24] -- Of this custom Turner remarks, alluding to Thibet Proper: --
      "Here we find a practice at once different from the modes of Europe,
      and opposite to those of Asia. That of one female associating her fate
      and fortune with all the brothers of a family, without any restriction
      of age or numbers. The choice of a wife is the privilege of the elder
      brother; and singular as it may seem, a Thibetan wife is as jealous
      of her connubial rites as ever the despot of an Indian Zenana is of
      the favours of his imprisoned fair."
       
      [25] -- "As the inscription of course begins at opposite ends on each
      side, the Thibetans are careful in passing that they do not trace
      the words backwards." -- Turner.
       
      [26] -- This is Mount "Everest," which has been called, the King
      of the South. The King of the North, "Nunga Purbut," is 26,629 feet
      above the level of the sea.
       
      [27] -- VIDE illustration, Hemis Monastery.
       
      [28] -- The only information I here again received was "Um mani
      panee!" The wheel consisted of a roll of the thinnest paper, six
      inches in diameter, and five and a half in width, closely printed
      throughout with the eternally recurring words, which all appeared so
      ready to pronounce and none seemed able to explain. The roll was sixty
      yards long, and was composed of a succession of strips, one foot nine
      inches in length, and all joined together. The whole was inclosed in
      a coarse canvas cover, open at both ends, and marked with what was no
      doubt the official seal of the particular society for the diffusion of
      ignorance at Lassa, from which it had originally emanated. Each of the
      strips contained the mystic sentence, one hundred and seventy times,
      so that I was thus at once put into possession of all the valuable
      intelligence to be derived from "Um mani panee," repeated between
      seventeen and eighteen thousand times. VIDE Appendix B.
       
      [29] -- The origin of this divinity is probably derived from the
      legend of Khoutoukhtou, which will be found in Appendix B.
       
      [30] -- The most remarkable of these were "Ser" and "Mer," otherwise
      called "Nanoo" and "Kanoo;" respectively 23,407 and 23,264 feet above
      the level of the sea.
       
      [31] -- The true version of the story appears to be that Gulab Singh
      had quarrelled with the Rajah of Cashmere, his rightful master, and
      entered into the service of the Rajah of Kushtwar. After about three
      years, hearing that Runjeet Singh was preparing an expedition against
      Cashmere, he went to him and offered his services. Being accepted,
      he was successful against his old enemy, and took possession of
      the country for Runjeet Singh; after which he wrote to the Rajah
      of Kushtwar, falsely telling him that the Maharajah was going to
      send a force against him also. The Rajah and his people prepared
      for resistance, and Gulab Singh then forged a paper containing an
      invitation from the chief men in the army of Kushtwar to the Maharajah,
      encouraging him to come forward and invade the country.
       
      This paper Gulab then forwarded to the Rajah himself, with a note,
      in which he told him that it was folly to talk of resistance when
      the chief men of his country were opposed to him. The Rajah, who had
      been in possession of Kushtwar for twenty-seven years, was completely
      deceived, and repaired, by invitation, with only a few followers to
      Gulab's camp. Here he was kept for three months upon an allowance of
      10L. a-day, which was afterwards reduced to 10S., and Gulab Singh in
      the meantime took possession of Kushtwar without opposition.
       
      [32] -- The value which a Kashmirian sets upon his Kangri may be
      known by the following distich: --
       
       
      "Oh Kangri! Oh Kangri!
      You are the gift of Houris and Fairies;
      When I take you under my arm
      You drive away fear from my heart."
       -- Vigne.
       
       
      [33] -- "Won't the old bearers get something, your honour?"
       
      [34] -- According to M. Voysey, in his Asiatic Researches, "A single
      flower in the screen contains a hundred stones, each cut to the
      exact shape necessary, and highly polished; and, although everything
      is finished like an ornament for a drawing-room chimney-piece, the
      general effect produced is rather solemn and impressive than gaudy.
       
      "In the minute beauties of execution, the flowers are by no means equal
      to those on tables and other small works in Pietra dura at Florence. It
      is the taste displayed in outline and application of this ornament,
      combined with the lightness and simplicity of the building, which gives
      it an advantage so prodigious over the gloomy portals of the chapel of
      the Medici. The graceful flow, the harmonious colours, combined with
      the mild lustre of the marble on which the ornamentation is displayed,
      form the peculiar charm of the building, and distinguish it from any
      other in the world. The materials are Lapis Lazuli, Jasper, Heliotrope
      or blood stone, Chalcedony, and other agates, Cornelian, Jade, &c."
       
      [35] -- A coin of the value of thirty-two shillings.
       
      [36] -- Hardy's "Eastern Monachisms."
       
      [37] -- Csoma de Koros.
       
      [38] -- VIDE page 202.
       
      [39] -- Muir's "Life of Mahomet."
       
      [40] -- M. Dietrici.
       
      [41] -- Padma pani, fils celeste du Bouddha divin du monde actuel,
      est, dans cette qualite, entre en fonction depuis la mort du Bouddha
      terrestre Sakya mouni, comme son remplacant, charge d'etre apres
      lui le protecteur constant, le gardien et le propagateur de la foi
      bouddhique renouvelee par Sakya. C'est pour cette raison qu'il ne
      se borne pas a une apparition unique comme les Bouddhas, mais qu'il
      se soumet presque sans interruption a une serie de naissances qui
      dureront jusqu'a l'avenement de Maitreya, le futur Bouddha.
       
      On croit aussi qu'il est incarne dans la personne du "Dalai Lama,"
      et qu'il paraitra en qualite de Bouddha, le millieme de la periode
      actuelle du monde.
       
      Le Tibet est sa terra de predilection; il est le pere de ses habitants,
      et la formule celebre: Om mani padme hom, est un de ses bienfaits. --
      RELATION DES ROYAUMES BOUDDHIQUES, par Chy Fa Hian, traduit par
      M. Remusat.
       
      [42] -- Le mot Khoubilkhan, en Mongol, designe l'incarnation d'une
      ame superieure.
       
      [43] -- Khoutoukhtou, en Mongol, signifie "UN SAINT MAITRE."
       
      [44] -- Le plus petit "Kalpa" est de seize millions huit cent mille
      ans, et le grand "Kalpa" est d'un milliard trois cents quarante-quatre
      millions d'annees.
       
      [45] -- Je ne l'ai encore trouvee cette phrase dans aucun ouvrage
      chinois ou japonais, et notre savant collegue M. Bournouf, m'a dit
      aussi qu'il ne l'a jamais rencontree dans les livres palis, birmans
      et siamois.
       
      [46] -- um maani padmi
       
      [47] -- Amongst these were sheets of gilt leather, stamped with the
      black eagle of the Russian armorial; talents of gold and silver, bags
      of genuine musk, narrow cloths of woollen the manufacture of Thibet,
      and silks of China.
       
       
       
       
       
       
       
      
 
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