Diary of a Pedestrian In Cashmere and Thibet | Page 9

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