A Holiday in the Happy Valley with Pen and Pencil Part 8

The jewellers' work is very far behind that of India. Amethysts of pale colour and yellow topaz are cheap. Fine turquoise do not come into Kashmir, but plenty of the rough stones (as well as imitations) are to be found, which, owing to a transitory fas.h.i.+on, are priced far above their intrinsic value. They come from Thibet.

A great deal of a somewhat soft and ugly-coloured jade is sent from Yarkand, also agates and carnelian; beads of these are strung into rather uncouth necklets, which may be bought for half the sum first asked.

Bargaining is an invariable necessity in all shopping in Kashmir, as everywhere else in the East, where the market value of an article is not what it costs to produce, but what can be squeezed for it out of the purse of the--usually--ignorant purchaser.

Three things are essential to the successful prosecution of shopping in Srinagar:--

(1) Unlimited time.

(2) A command of emphatic language, sufficient to impress the native mind with the need for keeping to the point.

(3) A liver in such thorough working order as to insure an extraordinary supply of good temper.

Without all these attributes the acquisition of objects of "bigotry and vertue" in Srinagar is attended with pain and tribulation.

The descent of the river is accomplished with ease and rapidity, but _revocare gradum_ involves much hard paddling, with many pants and grunts; and it was both cold and dark when we again lay alongside the bank of the Chenar Bagh, and scurried up the slippery bund to the hotel, with scarcely time to dress for dinner.

_Sunday, 9th April_.--Friday was a horrible day--rainy, dull, and cold; but a thrill of excitement was sent through us by the news that Walter has shot two fine bara singh! Charlotte (who is nothing if not a keen sportswoman) was filled with zeal and the spirit of emulation, so we resolved to dash off down the river to Bandipur, join Walter--who has now presumably joined the ranks of the unemployed, being only permitted by the Game Laws to kill two stags--and take our pick of the remaining "Royals,"

which, in our vivid imaginations, roamed in dense flocks through the nullahs beyond Bandipur!

All Friday and yesterday, therefore, were devoted to preparation. I had already, through the kindness of Major Wigram, secured a s.h.i.+kari, who immediately demonstrated his zeal and efficiency by purchasing a couple of bloodthirsty knives and a huge bottle of Rangoon oil at my expense. I pointed out that one "skian-dhu" seemed to me sufficient for "gralloching"

purposes, but he said two were better for bears. My acquaintance with bears being hitherto confined to Regent's Park, I bowed to his superior knowledge and forethought.

A visit to c.o.c.kburn's agency resulted in the hire of the "boarded dounga"

_Cruiser_, which the helpful Mr. c.o.c.kburn procured for us, in which to go down the river; also a couple of tents for ourselves with tent furniture, one for the servants, and a cooking tent.

The local bootmaker or "chaplie-wallah" appeared, as by magic, on the scene, and chaplies were ordered. These consist of a sort of leather sandal strapped over soft leather boots or moccasins. They are extremely comfortable for walking on ordinary ground, but perfectly useless for hill work, even when the soles are studded with nails. The hideous but necessary gra.s.s shoe is then your only wear. The gra.s.s shoe, which is made as required by the native, is an intricate contrivance of rice straw, kept in position by a straw twist which is hauled taut between the big and next toe, and the end expended round some of the side webbing. The cleft sock and woollen boot worn underneath keep the feet warm, but do not always prevent discomfort and even much pain if the cords are not properly adjusted. However, the remedy is simple. Tear off the shoe, using such language as may seem appropriate to the occasion, throw it at the s.h.i.+kari's head, and order another pair to be made "ek dam"! Jane and I each purchased a yakdan, a sort of roughly-made leather box or trunk, strong, and of suitable size for either pony or coolie transport. Our wardrobe was stowed in these and secured by padlocks, and the cooking gear, together with a certain amount of stores in the shape of grocery, bread, and a couple of bottles of whisky were safely housed in a pair of large covered creels or "kiltas."

Each of the party provided him or herself with a khudstick, consisting of a strong and tough shaft about five feet long, tapering slightly towards the base, where it is shod with a chisel-shaped iron end.

Our staff of retainers had now been brought up to five--the s.h.i.+kari, Ahmed Bot, having procured a satellite, known as the chota s.h.i.+kari, a youth of not unprepossessing appearance, but whose necessity in our scheme of existence I had not quite determined. Ahmed Bot, however, was of opinion that all sahibs who wanted sport required two s.h.i.+karis, so I imagined that while I was to be engaged with one in pursuit of bara singh, the other would employ himself in "rounding up" a few tigers for the next day's sport in another direction. Ahmed Bot agreed with me in the main, but did not feel at all sure about the tigers--he proposed ibex.

The fifth wheel to our coach was a strikingly ugly person, like a hippopotamus, whose plainness was not diminished by a pair of enormous goggles; this was the harmless necessary sweeper, that pariah among domestics, whose usefulness is undreamed of out of India.

After dinner last night we left the hotel, truly thankful to shake the dust of its gloomy precincts from our feet, and sought our boats, which were moored in the Chenar Bagh. How snug and bright the "s.h.i.+p" seemed after the murky corridors of Nedou! And yet the _Cruiser_ was not much to boast of, really, in the way of luxury.

Let me describe a typical boarded dounga. Upon a long, low, flat-bottomed hull, which tapered to a sharp point at bow and stern, was raised a light wooden superstructure with a flat roof, upon which the pa.s.sengers could sit. The interior was divided off into some half-a-dozen compartments, a vestibule or outer cabin held boxes, &c., and through it one pa.s.sed into the dining or parlour cabin, which opened again to two little bedrooms and a couple of bathrooms. There was no furniture to speak of, but we had hired from c.o.c.kburn all that we required for the trip.

The servants, as well as the crew of the dounga, were all stowed in a "tender" known as the cook boat--no one, except for navigating duties, having any business on board the "flags.h.i.+p."

Charlotte Smithson had a smaller s.h.i.+p than ours--a light wooden frame, which supported movable matting screens or curtains, taking the place of our wooden cabins. The matted dounga looked as though it might be chilly, particularly if a strong wind came to play among the rather draughty-looking mats which were all that our poor friend had between her and a cold world!

CHAPTER VI

OUR FIRST CAMP

The fleet, consisting of four sail (I use this word in its purely conventional sense, a dounga having no more sails than a battles.h.i.+p), got under way about 5 A.M., while it was yet but barely daylight, and so we were well clear of Srinagar when we emerged from our cosy cabins into a world of clean air and brilliant colour.

The broad smooth current of the Jhelum flowed steadily and calmly through a level plain, bearing us along at a comfortable four miles an hour, the crew doing little more than keep steerage-way with pole and paddle.

Beyond the green, tree-studded levels to the south, the range of the Pir Panjal spread wide its array of dazzling peaks, while on the right towered the mountains which enclose the Sind Valley, culminating in the square-headed ma.s.s of Haramok. In the clear air the snows seemed quite close, although we knew that the snow-line was really some three thousand feet above the level of the valley.

A day like this, as we sit on the little roof of our floating home watching the silent river unfold its s.h.i.+ning curves, goes far to obliterate the memory of the fuss and worry inseparable from the exodus from Srinagar. After lunch we tied up for a while, and I took my gun on sh.o.r.e to try and pick up a few of the duck that dotted the waters of the little lakes or jheels which lay flas.h.i.+ng amid the hillocks beyond the river banks. The sh.o.r.es of these being perfectly bare and open, it was obviously impossible to escape the keenly observant eyes of the duck, which appeared, unlike all other birds in Kashmir, to retain their customary wariness.

Crouching low amid the furrows of a newly-ploughed field, I sent the s.h.i.+kari with a knot of natives to the far side of the water, whence they advanced in open line, splas.h.i.+ng and shouting.

Presently, with much fuss and indignant quacking, a cloud of duck rose, and, circling after their fas.h.i.+on, as though reluctant to quit their resting-place, gave me several chances of a long shot before, working high into the air, they departed with loud expostulation to some quieter haunt.

Later in the afternoon we tied up to the bank for the night near a large jheel, where we all landed, Charlotte to try a rifle which she had borrowed, and I, if possible, to slay a few more duck, while Jane sat peacefully on a bank and enjoyed the glorious sunset.

The bag having been swelled by the addition of another dozen "specimens"--obtained by the same manoeuvres as before--we strolled back to our s.h.i.+ps in the luminous dusk, visions of roast "canard" floating seductively before our mental vision.

There proved to be several varieties of duck among the countless flocks which I saw, notably mallard, teal, pochard, and shoveller. Likewise there were many coots, while herons, disturbed in their meditations by the untoward racket, flapped heavily away with disgusted squawks.

Jane is getting along remarkably well with her Hindustani. I have just found her diary, and hasten to give an extract:--

"Woke up very early; much bitten by pice. Tom started off to try and shoot a burra sahib, as he hears and hopes they've not yet shed all their horns."

"He really looked very nice in his new Pushtoo suit, with putty on his legs and chaplains on his feet.... His chickory walked in front, carrying his bandobast."

"9 A.M.--Sat down to my solitary breakfast of poached ekkas and paysandu tonga, with excellent chupra.s.sies (something like scones). After breakfast, tried on my new kilta, which I have had made quite short for walking. I generally prefer walking to being carried in a pagdandy."

"Then took another lesson in Hindustani from my murghi, though I really think I hardly require it! My attention a good deal distracted by the antics of a pair of bul-buls (not at all the same as our coo-coos) in the jungle overhead."

"7 P.M.--T. returned after what he called a blank blank day. He found some bheesties (one of them a chikor ram or wild ghat) chewing the khud on a precipitous dak."

"They were rather far off, about a mile he thinks, but he couldn't get any nearer owing to a frightful ghari-wallah with deep pia.s.ses which lay between, so he put up his ornithoptic sight for 2000 yards and 'pumped lead' into the bheesties for half-an-hour."

"He says he _thinks_ he hit one, but they all went away--as his chickory remarked--'ek dam,' and Tom agreed with him."

"He fell into a budmash on his way home and was half-drowned, but the chickory, a.s.sisted by a friendly chota-hazri, managed to pull him out ...

quite an eventful day!"

"10 P.M.--The body of the ram chikor has just been brought in. It looks as if it had been dead for weeks, but the doolie, who found it, says that in this climate a few hours is sufficient to obliterate a body.... Anyhow the head and tail seem all right.... Tom says the proper thing to do is to measure something--he can't quite remember whether it is the horns or the tail, but the latter seems the more remarkable, so we measured that, and found it to be 3 feet 4 inches."

"By a little judicious pulling, the chickory, who knows all about measuring things, elongated it to 4 feet 3 inches."

"This, he says, is a '_Record_'--how nice!"

_Wednesday, April 12._--The place where we tied up was not far from the point where the Jhelum expands into the Wular Lake--a broad expanse of water, some seven or eight miles wide in places, which holds the proud record of being the largest lake in all India.

The mountains rise steeply from its northern sh.o.r.es, and from their narrow glens, squalls swift and strong are said frequently to sweep over the open water, particularly in the afternoons. The bold sailormen of Kashmir are not conspicuous for nautical daring--in fact their flat-bottomed arks, top-heavy and unwieldy, dest.i.tute alike of anchor and rudder, are not fit to cope with either wind or wave; they therefore aim at punting hurriedly across the danger s.p.a.ce as soon after dawn as may be--panting with exertion and terror, they hustle across the smooth and waveless water, invoking at every breath the protection of local saints.

Long before we had left our beds, and blissfully unconscious of our awful danger, we were striking out for Bandipur, which haven we safely reached about 8 A.M. on a still and glorious morning.

Then came the business of collecting coolies and ponies, and loading them up with the tents and lesser baggage under the direction of Sabz Ali and the s.h.i.+kari.