Three Months of My Life | Page 4

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 rushing 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 shirts, 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 "shildaree," 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, brass 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 pass into Kashmir, and bag of money, and "voil�� 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 pass, 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