Three Months of My Life Part 1

Three Months of My Life.

by J. F. Foster.

PREFACE.

In laying the following pages before the public, I do so with a feeling that they will be read with interest, not only by those who knew the writer, but those to whom the scenes described therein are known, and also those who appreciate a true description of a country which they may never have the good fortune to see. We are all familiar with Kashmir in the "fanciful imagery of Lalla Rookh," at the same time may not object to reading an account--with a ring of truth in it--of that lovely land, lovely and grand, beyond the power of poets to describe as it really is, so travellers say. Readers will see that Mr. Foster intended to have published this Diary himself had he been spared to reach England, he has offered any apology that is necessary, so I will say nothing further than to state, the daily entries were kept in a pocket-book written in pencil, occasionally a word is not quite legible, that will account for any little inaccuracy. After being two years at Elizabeth College, Guernsey, under the Rev. A. Corfe, Mr. Foster entered St. George's Hospital, as Student of Medicine, he received there in his last year the "Ten Guinea Prize" for General Proficiency. From St. George's he went to Netley, and on leaving that he served for a short time in Jersey, with the 2nd Battallion 1st Royals, and 1st Battallion 6th Royals, after which he embarked for India, where from February, 1868, to the beginning of 1869, he served with the following Regiments, &c., 91st Highlanders, at Dum Dum; F Battery C. Brigade Royal Horse Artillery, at Benares; 27th Inniskillings, at Hazareebagh, Bengal Depot, Chinsurah; Detachment 58th Regiment, at Sahibgunge; Head-Quarters 58th Regiment, at Sinchal, again at the Bengal Depot Chinsurah; Head-Quarters 107th Regiment, at Allahabad; Detachment 107th Regiment, at Fort Allahabad; G Battery 11th Brigade Royal Artillery, at Cawnpore; Left Wing 36th Regiment, Moradabad; Head-Quarters 36th Regiment, Peshawur, from whence ultimately we find he started for Kashmir in the hope of regaining his health, a vain hope as events proved, as he died on the pa.s.sage home at Malta. During the course of publication I have received many letters from people who were personally acquainted with Mr. Foster who had met him at home and abroad, from the tone of which letters I gather he was held in the highest possible estimation as a friend, a medical man, and an officer. I am indebted to the kindness of his father, Dr. John L.

Foster, of this island, for being allowed to publish these interesting memorials of one who had now pa.s.sed "To where beyond these voices there is peace."

LIZZIE A. FREETH.

Montpellier, Guernsey, Nov. 1873.

AUTHOR'S PREFACE.

This Work requires few prefatory remarks. I have transcribed without alteration, the Diary that I kept during my visit to Kashmir. It may seem a strange jumble of description and sentiment, jocularity and seriousness. During the greater part of each day I enjoyed perfect rest, smoking and thinking--sometimes soberly, often I fear idly--and for mere occupation sake, my thoughts were written as they arose. My mind as influenced by scene or incident, is fully exposed in these pages, and while I have concealed nothing, neither have I added to that which I originally indited. I am necessarily, and indeed intentionally egotistical, because I write for those who will chiefly value a personal narrative. Still, I am not ashamed if others see my book, although I would deprecate their criticism by begging them to remember that I only offer it for the perusal of those near and dear to me.

INTRODUCTION.

In the early morning of Midsummer's-day, 1868, I might have been seen slowly wending my way towards the office of the Deputy Inspector General of Hospitals, at Peshawur--for the purpose of appearing before the standing Medical Committee of the station, and having an enquiry made concerning the state of my health. A Dooley followed me lest my strength should prove inadequate to the task of walking a quarter of a mile. But let me make my description as short as the Committee did their enquiry.

My face, as white as the clothes I wore, told more than my words could, and I was hardly required to recount how that one burning May-day I was called at noon to visit a sick woman, and that while all other Europeans were in their closed and darkened bungalows with punkahs swinging, and thermautidotes blowing cool breezes, I went forth alone on my medical mission to encounter the fierce gaze of the baneful sun, and was overpowered by its fiery influence, or how that I laid a weary month on the sick bed, tormented by day with a never ceasing headache, and by night with a terrible dread, worse than any pain, or to conclude, how the deadly climate of that notoriously evil station afforded me no prospect of improvement. This relation was scarcely needed to procure me a certificate, stating that three months leave of absence to Murree was absolutely essential for my recovery, and a recommendation that I might be allowed to proceed immediately in antic.i.p.ation of the leave being granted. So the next evening saw me start from Peshawur for Rawul Pindee, in a Dak Gharie, accompanied by my dog "Silly" and my Madrapee servant or "Boy." Onwards we sped at a gallop, the horses being changed every six miles, through Nowshera, the furnace; over the rapid and icy cold Indus by boat; past Fort Attock, the oven in which our soldiers are done to death; and Hussan Aboul of Lallah Rooke celebrity; arriving at the French Hotel at Pinder, ten miles from Peshawur the following morning. That day I called upon the Officers of the 6th Foot, with whom I had served in Jersey, and was persuaded to dine at mess. A melancholy dinner it was for me, meeting old friends whom I had not seen for so long. Yet not possessing energy enough for conversation or feeling the spirit of "Hail fellows, well met." I felt that my moody silence and ghostlike appearance (for I was dressed in black) threw a gloom over them. This was no doubt a morbid fancy as also was perhaps the idea that they looked at me with pitying eyes. But these feelings seized me, and increased till they became unbearable, and I was glad to escape to my Hotel.

"THREE MONTHS OF MY LIFE."

A DIARY.

JULY 4th, 1868.--Started from Murree for Kashmir at 5.30 a.m. Bell, Surgeon 36th Regt. [Since deceased] came with me four miles. Walked on expecting the dandy to overtake me, but it did not, and I marched all the way, nine miles up a steep hill to Khaira Gullee, where I halted and put up in one of the old sheds formerly used by the working party when the road was being made. I am not tired, though my left heel is blistered, which is fair considering I have not walked half a mile for more than a month. The road is excellent and the scenery fine, the Khuds being sometimes deep, but nothing like the eastern Himalayas. The forest too is quite different, fir trees predominating here. Saw many beautiful birds, and regretted I had not brought my gun. In the evening a thunderstorm came on with a cold wind from the north, so I made a good fire with a few fir logs. In the middle of the night the storm became very violent, and large hailstones fell.

JULY 5th.--Got away at sunrise, the rain having quite cleared off, and marched on to Doonga Gullee, up a hill to an elevation of 9,000 feet, and then down again to about 7,000; then up a final steep to Doonga Gullee, 8,000 feet above the sea. The Khuds much grander very deep and precipitous, sometimes falling one or two thousand feet from the edge of the road almost perpendicularly. But the hills are too close together to allow the valleys to be termed magnificent. Reached Doonga Gullee at 10 a.m. The length of last march, eleven miles--the road, a good military one, has been cut in the face of the mountain. Put up at the Dak Bungalow, and dined with the officers of the working party; among them Heath, of the 88th, and Leggatt and Lyons, of the 77th, whom I knew. A number of tents are pitched here for the working parties from the 19th and 77th Regiments (road making). I was carried part of the march in my dandy--a piece of carpet gathered at each end and hooked to a pole,--the pole being carried on the shoulders of two men. I swung below it just off the ground, and could often look down a vast depth between my knees.

My first pickled tongue, cooked the day before yesterday was fly-blown at breakfast this morning. This may seem a trifling note, but it is ominous I fear for the whole of my salted stores.

JULY 6th.--Got up at 4 o'clock and marched on to Bugnoota, a distance of thirteen miles. The first four miles a slight rise, and then a rapid descent all the rest of the way. The road is much narrower, only a mule track in fact, I walked twelve miles, and then felt tired, and had a headache afterwards. Pitched my tent in a tope, (a grove of trees) in company with Dr. and Mrs. Holmes, of Rohat, whom I did not know. Slight rain in the middle of the day, but it cleared off towards evening. Felt all right after an hour's sleep and took a stroll before dinner. Scenery grand, tent pitched on the edge of a deep gorge at the bottom of which is a mountain stream, the hills rising abruptly on the opposite side.

JULY 7th.--Marched on to Abbottabad at sunrise, down hill to the river, and then along its course for two miles over very rough and fatiguing ground, the river having to be forded twice. In rainy weather this is very dangerous as its rush is so impetuous. Up hill again then down into the plain of Abbottabad, 4,000 feet above the sea. Distance twelve miles though only put down eight in the route. Met the General at the bottom of the hill. Put up at the Dak Bungalow, and met Ford, 88th, and De Marylski, R.A., returning from Kashmir, got some hints from them.

Abbottabad is a small cantonment on a large plain surrounded by bare mountains, a notice is posted in my room warning travellers not to go unarmed; so I'll gird on my Kookery to-morrow. A Kookery is a formidable native knife, about eighteen inches long and over two inches wide, carried in a peculiar way, sheep and goats heads come off very easily at a single blow from it. Much hotter down here, the sun powerful after 10 o'clock, but Punkahs not necessary. This is the Head-Quarters of the Punjab Frontier force. A pity they do not have an English Regiment stationed here as it is a very pleasant place as regards climate. Snow in winter, and this the warmest time of the year quite bearable.

Brigadier gone to the _hills_ for the _hot weather._ Took in supplies of bread and b.u.t.ter and purchased a pair of chuplus or sandals for marching in, as boots hurt my feet.

JULY 8th.--A long tedious march of nearly fifteen miles to Mansera, put down in the guide as a level plain road, but having a good many ups and downs. One of my sandals broke, and I was obliged to ride in the dandy about half way. Some difficulty occurred in getting my baggage off as the Coolies did not come. Left my boy to manage it, he came in about noon with two ponies, I shall not pay for them yet, and then they will come on with me. A warmer day than yesterday. Mountains rising up in front, which I shall begin to ascend to-morrow if I make the whole march of twenty miles. Snow visible above all. The real work of the trip will now soon commence. The marches. .h.i.therto have been child's play compared with those to come. Mansera is only a native village, but there is a Dak Bungalow, in which I am now. Met Captain Ellis, of the 4th Hussars, returning from Kashmir, and had a talk with him. There are _two_ routes open to me, he advises the one which yesterday I was warned against by the other fellows. They have been over both roads, yet do not agree as to which is the best. Ellis was disappointed with Kashmir, but he has only been a few months in India, and has not yet forgotten England, for I expect that Kashmir after all, is only so very pleasant, by contrast with the plains of India.

JULY 9th.--Started an hour before sunrise and did the whole march to Ghuri, distance nineteen miles. Walked the greater part of the way in sandals and socks, which I find the most comfortable way of getting on.

First half of the march along the level to the foot of the hill, then an undulating road through a pine forest, the latter half easy walking owing to the ground being covered with fallen fir leaves which made it as soft as a carpet. A fine view from the top of hill, looking down to Ghuri. The river Ghuri, a mountain torrent seen for a long distance rus.h.i.+ng with a great roar over its rocky bed, bounded on each side by high hills, and above by mountains covered with snow, from the melting of which it arises. The water is consequently icy cold, and my tub at the end of the march was highly invigorating. Put up at the Dak Bungalow, a neat, clean, furnished building, standing on the right bank of the river, which is crossed just in front by a very fair suspension bridge. I can trace my route for to-morrow, for several miles, and I look at it with dismay as it ascends a terribly steep hill. There are two other men in the Bungalow, but I do not know who they are. I have not mentioned my equipment. It is so simple that a few lines will tell all. Two suits of old clothes, three flannel s.h.i.+rts, two warm under flannels, two pair of boots, "a light pair and a heavy pair of ammunitions," socks, handkerchiefs, &c., Mackintosh, warm bedding, a small tent called a "s.h.i.+ldaree," a two-rolled ridge tent, about eight feet square, a dressing bag containing toilet requisites, a metal basin, salted tongues and humps, potatoes, tea, sugar, flour, mustard, &c., one bottle of brandy, to be reserved for medicinal use, a portable charpoy or bedstead, cane stool, a little crockery, knives and forks, cooking utensils, bra.s.s drinking cup for every purpose, a gingham umbrella with white cover, a dandy (previously described), solar topee, and light cap, tobacco, soap, and candles, a kookery, a stout alpen stock, a pa.s.s into Kashmir, and bag of money, and "voila tout." For carrying this baggage, I require two mules, and two Coolies, or when mules are not procurable, seven Coolies. Four other Coolies man my dandy, and these men are going all the way with me. Each Coolie receives four annas, or sixpence a day, and a mule costs eight annas. Stopped under a "pepel tree" and sent some Coolies up it for the fruit, which was ripe. This tree is the Indian fig, and the fruit is very small, not larger than marbles; and without much flavor. The river is running a few yards from me, with a sound as of the surf on a rocky beach. I hope ere long to hear the same pleasant music seated on the cliffs of the south coast of Guernsey. Now my time in India is drawing to a close, I begin to think that it has not been altogether wasted, though I would not prolong it a day. All I have seen and done within a period of three years (so much falls to the lot of few men to perform) must have had some effect upon my mind; at any rate, when safe at home again, I shall have much to talk of, many experiences to relate. My dog Silly who accompanies me, was awfully done up towards the end of the march. At last we came to a running stream in which he laid down and was much refreshed, before that his panting had become gasping though he kept up with us bravely, only lying down for a moment when we came to a little bit of shade--not often met with, the last three or four miles. For the last day or two, I have been almost continually in a cool, gentle perspiration, this is a great contrast to my state when at Peshawur, where my skin was always as dry as a bone, and I look upon that as a healthy symptom, I have had no headache since I left Bugnostan.

JULY 10th.--To Mozufferabad nine miles, but apparently much more, such a bad fatiguing march. I got away with the first grey of the dawn and after a mile's tramp began the ascent of the Doabbuller pa.s.s, three and a half miles long and very steep, so steep that I could often touch the ground with my hands without stooping much. This was terribly exhausting and I had to make many halts to recover my breath. Then began a rough descent along the side of a mountain torrent and afterwards over its bed, which is a narrow gorge between high hills. This walking was very rough and difficult; the path being covered with great stones and often undistinguishable. Indeed it was no path at all, only the ground occasionally a little trodden. Through the stream, backwards and forwards _innumerable_ times we went. I found that my feet, though naked except where covered by the straps of the sandals, were able to take care of themselves, and avoid contusion almost without the help of my eyes. Then I came to a large and rapid river called the Kishun-gunga crossed by a rope bridge. Let me describe the bridge. Three or four leather ropes about one inch in diameter tied into a bundle to walk upon, three feet above this, a couple of ropes, two feet apart, the upper ropes connected to the lower one at intervals of four or five yards by stakes. This formed a V shape, and you walk on the point of the V and hold on by the two sides. The breadth of the river is sixty yards, and the bridge which is high above the water forms a considerable curve.

The description of the bridge is easy enough, but how shall I describe my feelings, when I had gone a few yards and found myself poised in mid-air like a spider on a web, oscillating, swaying backwards and forwards over a foaming and roaring torrent, the rush of the water if I looked at my feet, made me feel as if I was being violently carried in the opposite direction; the bridge swayed and jumped with the weight of half a dozen natives coming from the opposite side whom I had to pa.s.s, the whole thing seemed so weak and the danger so terrible that I turned giddy, lost my head, and cried out to be held. A firm hand at once grasped me behind and another in front. I shut my eyes and so proceeded a few yards. Then those dreadful men had to be pa.s.sed. Imagine meeting a man on a rope fifty feet above a torrent and requiring him to "give you the wall." However they were pa.s.sed by a mysterious interlacing of feet; and when half way over I regained confidence, and bid the men "chando" or release me, and so gained the opposite bank, where I sat down and roared with laughter at my "boy" who was then coming over, and who evidently was much more affected than I was. However he arrived safely with his black face _pale_, dripping with perspiration and saying he was sick. What was most amusing was to see him hooking his legs one in front of the other on his way over, but I dare say I was equally laughable to anyone on terra firma. He told me afterwards "water all go down, and I go up and get sick and giddy." Another two miles over a low ridge and I got to Mozufferabad and put up at the Barahduree provided by the Maharajah for the convenience of English travellers free of charge, for we are now in Kashmerian territory. This is an unfurnished bungalow built of mud and pine logs, and there is one at every stage. This saves the trouble of pitching a tent, and is of course much better in wet weather. I have not had a drop of rain though yet. Met Watson, of Fane's Horse, at the bungalow going back to Peshawur. Got Incis's Guide from him for the day, and made some notes at the other end of this book.

There is a picturesque fort on this bank of the river commanding the bridge, built by the Pathans, apparently of bright red stone or brick.

It was interesting to see mules and ponies swimming across the stream.

Holding on by the tail of each was a man supported by two inflated Mussaks or goat skins which are ordinarily used by the Bheisties for carrying water. Though both man and horse struck out vigorously they were carried down many hundred yards before reaching the opposite side.

To look at them in the foam and rush of the river, and see their impetuous career down the current, they appeared to be doomed to certain destruction. I saw about twenty cross in this way. I walked the whole of this march, though often tired, as I preferred trusting my own legs to being carried in the dandy over such bad ground. Curran, a.s.sistant-Surgeon, 88th Connaught Rangers, is one march in front of me.

He has left his pony here till he returns. I suppose the last march was too much for him. I am very glad I did not bring my horse with me; I was strongly advised to do so, but I am afraid advice has not much weight with me; in this instance anyhow, my own opinion has proved the best.

All the men I meet coming back have horses with them, but they are nearly all shoeless, lame and sick, and have not been ridden for weeks.

JULY 11th.--Marched on Hultian, distant seventeen miles. Much better road than yesterday, but many ups and downs and short rough bits.

Started two hours before sunrise, by the light of the moon. The road soon reached the right bank of the Jhelum and continued the whole distance alongside of that river. It is a rapid river apparently not so deep and often not so wide as the Kishun-gunga, its bed strewn with huge boulders over which the water breaks in great waves of foam. It runs in a narrow rocky channel the precipitous sides of which are a great height. How many ages must it have taken to cut this channel in the solid rock? The valley is bounded by high hills, very narrow, the road so bare of trees, that the latter half of the march became hot and wearying, so I had recourse to the dandy for four or five miles. But it was rare gymnastic exercise as swinging from my pole I had to dodge the great stones on either side of me and keep a sharp look out to avoid hard b.u.mps. My dog was again very much fatigued. His tail is a good token of his state, for when fresh it is stiff along his back, and gradually drops as he goes along until he is quite exhausted, when it hangs straight down. Stopped at a Barahduree (not so good a one as the last) a few feet above the Jhelum in which I bathed. There is a rope bridge opposite, a much older one than the other I crossed, but not more than half as long, and not high above the water, some of the ropes are broken, and it seems very shaky. However, I must cross it to-morrow and get into the Murree road, which runs parallel to this one, on the other bank, and is on the shady side and much cooler. It has been very hot all day. The reason I could not come the direct road from Murree is because the ferry over the Jhelum lower down, was recently carried away and twenty-six natives drowned. Sir G. Larpent's (of the 88th) baggage was in the boat, and he lost it all. He had not crossed and had to go back to Murree minus everything including servants. There is excellent Mahseer fis.h.i.+ng in this river, the fish attain the enormous size of 80lbs. weight and afford exciting sport; but I have no tackle with me, and did not even bring a gun, as I thought I should be too seedy to do anything but moon about. I did not then know the great exertion necessary to reach Kashmir, an exertion which any man with bodily infirmity would hardly venture on without first providing himself with an undertaker. Upon making enquiries I find that all the Coolies and supplies on the other road, have been sent over to this side, so I must keep to it and not cross as I intended. In the evening a slim young native came to me and offered to swim across the river for Bakhs.h.i.+sh, "a present." I promised it to him, and he ran a quarter of a mile up, and plunged into the torrent, landing on the opposite side a little below the bungalow. He then went up the river again, and swam down to this side, no mean feat in turbulent water running as it did with tremendous velocity. I gave him eight annas for it.

JULY 12th, "Sunday."--In the middle of last night a storm came on, I was sleeping in the open air, and the lightning awoke me, it was beginning to rain, and I had to move into the house. It was broad daylight when I was called, and I felt disinclined to proceed. I said it would rain, and I would halt. My boy said, "No Sir, no rain." I said the sun would come out and it would be burning hot. He said, "No Sir, no sun." I felt it was useless continuing the argument, so I got up and marched to Kunda, eighteen miles, walking all the way. A hard march, nothing but steep rough ascents, and corresponding descents, still keeping along the river, but two or three hundred feet above it. My Coolies pointed out to me a herd of "chiken" on a very high hill, at least four miles away. I saw nothing, for even big trees at that distance were diminished to very small objects, but did not dispute with them. They say uncivilized man has wonderful sight, and if deer were there, he certainly has far higher powers of vision even, than I had been led to expect. Met three men leaving Kashmir, and exchanged remarks with them. Don't know who they were. Caught sight of my destination from the top of one hill, and was delighted to see it was quite close to me. But alas! several weary miles of up and down and in and out had to be traversed before it could be reached. This has several times happened to me, and I shall in future put no faith in appearances. The Barahduree here is a two storied one, standing I should think five hundred feet above the river, which is here confined in a very narrow channel. I took the upper room which has three sides and a roof, there being no wall facing the river, over which there is a fine and rather extended view, the more distant mountains being crowned with pine forests. Had neither sun nor rain while marching, but soon afterwards the sun shone out, though heavy and threatening clouds continued to hang about the horizon. As I write this I hear the first roll of thunder, there will be another storm to-night.

The Maharajah's officials come to me at every stage to enquire my wants and provide for the same. Other natives also come with an insane request,--a medical prescription for a sick Bhai (or brother) who always has fever, and is at a great distance. What possible use a prescription could be to them I cannot decide. The storm came up just before dinner, 6 p.m., and was rather sharp but soon over. I came up the valley of the Jhelum, and I watched its course for some time before it arrived. It subsequently struck the edge of the house and I was all right; had it come down the valley which runs at right angles to the Jhelum just opposite here I should have been blown out. I again noticed that to which my attention has often been directed, viz.: that when in or near the storm clouds, the thunder is of quite a different character to that heard below. It is a continuous low muttering growl without any claps or peals. I have stood in the storm cloud at Sinchal, 9,000 feet high, with the lightning originating around me and affording the sublimest spectacle of dazzling brilliancy, and varying in colour from the purest white light to delicious rose and blue tints. I have seen it intensified and focussed as it were within a few feet of me, and from this centre angled lines and b.a.l.l.s of fire like strings of beads radiated in all directions. Yet the thunder which in the plains was heard pealing and roaring its loudest, was up there barely audible.

JULY 13th.--From Kunda to Kuthin twelve miles of hard toiling over a similar road to that of the last march, finis.h.i.+ng with a long, steep, and very rough ascent to the high plateau on which Kuthin stands. On the top of this I took to my dandy and was carried a mile along the level to the Barahduree, where I slept upon the charpoy which is provided at every bungalow for the weary travellers to rest upon pending the arrival of his baggage. These plateaus or table lands exist at intervals all the way up the valley, sometimes on one side sometimes on the other and occasionally on both the river in the middle. They are quite flat, very small, and highly productive, and vary from fifty to three or four hundred feet in height, above the river. The valley which widens where they exist, is narrowed again at either extremity. I can only account for their formation by supposing that at a former time, a chain of lakes existed, of which they are the beds, and that the water subsequently burst through and formed the channel of the present Jhelum, leaving these beds dry as we now see them. Came across a number of large tailed b.u.t.terflies of a lovely green and blue metallic l.u.s.tre. Secured an un-injured specimen, and for want of a better place stuck it inside my topee, where I expect to carry it safely until my return to Peshawur.

Another storm came on earlier than yesterday. I have been very lucky hitherto, not having had a drop of rain while marching. This morning was cloudy till within a mile or two of Kuthin when the sun shone and made the last ascent doubly trying. This is a very small village (at Kunda there was only one hut) but there is a mud fort with bastions at each corner but no guns. The walls are loop-holed for musketry, but there does not seem to be any garrison. On making enquiries, I find there is a garrison of seven men. It is getting dusk and mosquitoes are coming out by hundreds, they have not annoyed me before, but I think I must use my net to-night. I lie on my bed after dinner smoking with a lighted candle by my side. A hornet flies in and settles on my hand, then a large beetle comes with a buzz and a thud against me, making me start. Sundry moths, small flies, and beetles, are playing innocently round the flame.

In half an hour I shall be able to make a fair entomological collection but as I neither (Ha! I've killed the hornet) desire them in my hat dead, nor in my bed alive, I must put out the light, give up writing, and smoke in darkness.

JULY 14th.--To Shadera, twelve miles walked all the way. The road worse than ever, and for the last mile actually dangerous, as it pa.s.sed along the edge of a deep precipice, and was only a foot wide and considerably out of the horizontal, so that a single false step would have been fatal. Road continued same character all the way along, though much above the tortuous and noisy Jhelum, and its ups and downs were the roughest, longest, and most trying, I have yet experienced. I am pleased to know that the remaining two marches will be, in the words of my Coolies over "uch'-cha rasta," a good road. It remained cloudy and threatening the greater part of the way, and a little rain fell, but eventually the sun shone, though great ma.s.ses of "c.u.muli" continue to hang about. This is a small village completely shut in by three huge hills standing very close together. Between the sides of the two in front, the summit of a fourth is visible, a magnificent towering mountain, covered with a dense pine forest. I have not seen the snows since I crossed the Doobbullee pa.s.s, as we have been ascending the valley of the Jhelum ever since, and the view is confined by its lofty sides. I have eaten my last loaf for breakfast this morning, and now one of the greatest privations of the journey will begin. No bread, nothing but flour and water made into a kind of pancake, which the natives call "chepattie." I have not tasted fresh meat since I left Abbottabad, but that one can do very well without. I live upon fowls, eggs, milk, b.u.t.ter and rice, with a tongue or hump, cooked when necessary. Two or three miles from Kuthai, we pa.s.sed a very pretty waterfall. The slender stream fell over a smooth perpendicular rock, of a rich brown colour, 100 feet high, like a thread of silver. Both sides of the gorge covered with a variety of beautifully green trees, shrubs and ferns, altogether const.i.tuting a delightful picture, the tints mingled so harmoniously, yet with strong contrasts. Stopped at the Barahduree as usual, this one surrounded with wild fig, plum, peach, pomegranate, and mulberry trees.

The mulberries only ripe, and like all wild fruit, small and comparatively tasteless.

JULY 15th.--Started as soon as it was light for Gingle, fourteen miles distant. Road greatly improved, hilly of course, but tolerably smooth so that one could get on without clambering. About half way pa.s.sed Dorie on the left bank of the river, where there is another fort and a strong rope bridge, it is one of the halts on the Murree road, farther on came to an old ruin, four thick walls perforated by arches enclosing an open square in the middle of two of the sides, large ma.s.ses of masonry formed archways or entrances. It is built of the rough stones and boulders with which the surface of the ground is covered, yet the arches are of very good shape. On the opposite bank of the Jhelum there are forests of Deodar, but though they grow down to the waters edge, there is not one on this side. (Larix Deodora, called by the Hindoos, "the G.o.d Tree" is a stately pine, growing to a great height, and of a very gradual and elegant taper. Its foliage is of the darkest green colour, and it gives the mountains a very sombre appearance.) The hills have become much more rugged and abrupt. I know of no single condition which gives a scene so great an aspect of wildness and desolation, as dead fir trees. There they stand on the most barren and inaccessible places, rearing their gaunt and whitened forms erect as ever, and though lifeless yet not decayed. Seared and blasted by a thousand storms, they stand stern and silent, ghostlike and immoveable, scorning the elements. No wind murmurs pleasantly through their dead and shrunken branches, the howling tempest alone can make them speak, and then with wild straining shriek and harsh rattle, they do battle with the whirlwind. It was getting hot and I was thinking of my dandy, when a storm pa.s.sed over with heavy rain. This was a mitigated evil (if an evil at all for my bed remained dry, and a wet bed is the worst result of a shower) as it rendered walking cool and pleasant. It cleared up again, and I rode the last half mile. The cleanest and best bungalow here I have been in since I left Ghuri. The view down the valley is extremely pretty, hills rising one above the other, but shut in on all other sides by high mountains. Gingle, which is only one or two huts, stands on a small plateau a quarter of a mile long by one hundred and fifty yards wide, fifty feet above the Jhelum.

The ground is laid out in paddy fields irrigated by a stream of the coolest and purest water. It is a great satisfaction to be able to drink water freely without fear. In the plains of India the water is so contaminated as to be almost poisonous, and I do not think that previous to this march I had drank a gallon of it since I landed in Calcutta.

JULY 16th.--Left Gingle with the earliest streak of dawn for Baramula, an eighteen mile march. Road very much more level, never ascending high above the river whose erratic course we continued to follow. Pa.s.sed through groves of hazel overrun by wild vines, but both grapes and nuts as yet green. The plateaus become gradually larger and almost continuous, and the hills separated and diminished in size, those on the right being covered with the lank deodar, while those on the left possessed only a bright green mantle of gra.s.s, far away in front they altogether ended, and the open sky above the valley was alone visible.

And now an unusual occurrence presented itself. We were following the stream upwards towards its source, yet at every mile it increased in width and became more placid, till at length its surface was unbroken, and it a.s.sumed the form of a magnificent river, wider than the Thames at Richmond. The hills continued provokingly to overlap one another as though anxious to shut in and hide the happy valley from sight. But at length I discerned a far distant white cloud which I guessed betokened the summit of a mountain, and a few yards further revealed a faint glistening opaque line which the inexperienced eye would have certainly taken for a portion of the cloud, but which could not be mistaken by one who had before seen the snows. About half a mile from Buramula we obtain the first view of the Vale of Kashmir, but not an extensive one, as it is obstructed on either side by low hills. However, what is seen is very pretty. A large level plain traversed by a broad smooth river which has now lost its tortuous zig-zag course and bounded by the everlasting snows covering the main backbone of the Himalayas. At the head of the valley stands the quaint looking town of Baramula surrounded by hills on all sides but one, embowered in trees and intersected by the Jhelum, across which there is a good wooden bridge. The houses have mostly an upper story, and are built of wood with gabled roofs. The streets are narrow and roughly paved, and I regret to say are not more pleasant to the nostrils than are those of other Indian towns. The bridge built of deodar wood, beams of which are driven into the bed of the river, and then others laid horizontally upon them, each row at right angles to and projecting beyond the layer beneath, till a sufficient height has been reached, six of these and two stone piers form the b.u.t.tresses of the bridge and a broad pathway of planks connects them. The march was a fatiguing one on account of its length, and I used the dandy freely. I shall however discard it altogether for the future.

I went to the Barahduree but found it occupied by a man whose name I was told was "----," had been there five days. His Coolies had taken possession of all the rooms, and though I was very angry and inclined to turn them out, I thought my tent would be preferable to a room just vacated by the uncleanly native, so I went to an orchard close by, surrounded by a row of fine poplars, and patiently awaited the arrival of my baggage which was a long time coming. The gate was guarded by the Maharajah's sepoys who endeavoured to prevent my entrance. The Thikadar told me he had no authority for this, but had done it "Zubbur-dustee."

They also say that the occupant of the Barahduree has just come from England. He is a being shrouded in mystery, and I shall endeavour to unravel it. My first step will be to report the occurrence to the officials at S---- when I get there. I took a swim in the Jhelum, whose course I have now followed for eighty-four crooked miles, and on whose bosom I shall to-morrow continue my journey.

JULY 17th.--By boat up the river, the day so bright, the view so glorious, the breeze so balmy and delicious, and the motion so gentle and pleasant, that lying on my bed I devote myself to lazy listlessness, to a perfect sense of the "dolce far niente" and can hardly prevail on myself to disturb my tranquillity by writing these few notes. The contrast to my thirteen heavy marches is so great that I am content to remain for the present without thought or action, enjoying absolute rest. Evening--We halt at Sopoor, and now let me endeavour to continue the diary. Got up at seven this morning and sent for a boat, one of the larger kind about thirty feet long, and six feet broad in the middle, the centre portion covered with an awning made of gra.s.s matting. The crew consisting of an entire family, from the elderly parents to quite young children--9 in all. I was towed up the still widening river by all of them in turns, one wee girl not three feet high being most energetic, though I should think of little real service. Boat flat bottomed, and alike at both ends, they use paddles instead of oars. But the scene! I am unable now to do justice to it, so I will only give the outlines to be elaborated hereafter. Splendid river--verdant plain covered with many varieties of trees, poplar and chenar or tulip tree the most conspicuous, extending as far as the eye can reach and enclosed by lofty snow capped mountains, on which rest the clouds of heaven. Bright blue King-fishers darting like flashes of light or hovering hawk-like before the plunge after fish and the many hued dragon flies upon the water weeds. Among the several varieties of the weeds, I noticed a great quant.i.ty of "Anacharis." Got fresh mutton and apple-pie for dinner.

Swarms of very minute flies came to the candle dancing their dance of death. Many thousands were destroyed, and their bodies darkened the board which serves me for a table. Sopoor like Baramula, river bridged, and gra.s.s growing on the roofs of the houses.

JULY 18th.--In the night we moved on, and at five in the morning I was awoke at the foot of Shukuroodeen Hill, 700 feet high, which I intended to ascend, and get a _coup d'oeil_ of the valley. Instead of being on a river, the water now spread out into a great lake (Lake Wulloor) the largest in Kashmir. Got up and began to ascend the hill, but when half way up, the strap of one of my sandals gave way, and as I could not mend it, I was obliged to descend; however, I got an extensive view of the valley lying spread out at my feet, the lake occupying a great portion of the view. Went on to Alsoo (about three hours) from whence I shall march to Lalpore the other side of a range of high hills which rise very near the water. We are thirty miles from Baramula. The lake is in many parts covered with a carpet of elegant water weeds which makes it look like a green meadow, among them the Singara or water nut, a curiously growing plant which bears spiny pods enclosing a soft delicately flavoured kernel--heart-shaped, as big as a filbert.