CHAPTER V.

SHIKAR IN THE WURDWAN.

23rd May. Ere thoroughly awakened this morning, I enjoyed pleasing fancies in a confused doze, under the influence of the soft notes of a cuckoo perched on a tree immediately over my head, whence he sweetly serenaded me, or rather treated me to a morning solo; which, though a monotonous performance, touched many a sympathetic and vibrating chord within, creating delicious harmonies, recalling old memories--the open window, dewy mornings, fresh summer-perfumed air, the welcome ringing of old Jonas' sharpening scythe, which operation has a remarkable charm for me, I suppose as essentially characteristic of summer seasons, and associated with the inhaled fragrance of new-mown hay, added to many a mingled note of thrush, linnet, and blackbird and other feathered songsters.

Often, on such mornings, did the dear old man, according to agreement, lightly cast up gravel at my window to arouse me to be up and after my night-lines. Oh, happy memories!--The scythe of time has now done its work upon him, and gathered to the harvest one of the dearest associates of my youthful days: but there is another youth to come, an everlasting youth, to be enjoyed in an eternal spring--Oh! may we be there reunited, this humble follower, and all to whom my heart tenderly yearns!

I made up some accounts, and paid sundry monies, wrote instructions to the Baboo, and despatched a messenger therewith, and, in the afternoon, went forth to hunt. A bear was in sight high up on the mountain which shelters the small cluster of huts constituting the village. He was reported to be a continual visitor to the same green spot. The climb was anything but inviting to a limping cripple; and the place looked so bare and unapproachable, that I felt convinced we should not succeed, and so assured the shikarries. But still we made the attempt, and, after a very fatiguing hour's ascent, had the poor reward of seeing the wary Bruin making off. But, uncertain as to the quarter whence the suspected danger threatened, he paused on the hill opposite to us, and we lay a long time hoping he would again descend to feed; which at last we thought he really had done, and so cautiously crawled to a shooting position. But Bruin had only concealed himself in order to unmask his enemies, as it would appear; for he displayed his person in the same place, and then sat partially concealed by boughs. At last, seeing no probable change in our relative positions, I fired Whitworth, the bolt passing close beneath his stomach, also the other rifle without effect, the distance some three hundred yards. Bruin losing patience at this repeated annoyance, quietly jogged off up hill, and disappeared over the summit.

We descended much more rapidly than we came up. Getting upon a snow drift, we ran and slid down merrily, and continued our hunt along the base of a range; and Subhan and a villager, who had gone to reconnoitre, declaring they saw a bear in a spot indicated, we proceeded to make his acquaintance, and after much toil found no trace of living creature, so concluded our informants to have mistaken a stone for a bear, an error the keenest-sighted are liable to.

24th May. Away in another direction up the valley. We soon saw two bears across the river moving ahead along the slope of the opposite hill. We crossed the river by a natural bridge of snow. One of the bears crossed the snow drift, up which we were pursuing our way to intercept them, about one hundred and fifty yards ahead of us. We lay still, screened by shrubs: followed on, and saw him grubbing among some bushes. I cocked the rifle, at the click of which the cautious beast became suspicious, and looked up, facing me. Thinking him about to abscond, I fired--and away he rushed, disappeared in the bushes, and we saw nothing more of him. I could not account for my failure: the shot was a fair one.

After remaining some time on the look out without seeing any game, we returned to camp to breakfast; and by the advice of the shikarries, and in order to satisfy them, I discharged all my weapons at a mark, making fair practice: but decided on reducing the charge of powder. I cheered up the shikarries, saying we would now consign to oblivion our previous failures, and make a fresh start.

In the afternoon, across the river, retracing the road we came by, we ascended the hill, and all lay down, shikarries together in whispering conversation.

Suddenly I became aware of the presence of a bear in the jungle some distance off. He appeared contemplating an approach in our direction, but, hesitating, turned into the jungle, apparently to seek an open feeding ground just visible beyond, and where we expected him. Subhan went forward to watch him, and soon beckoned us on. We overtook him, and cautiously skirted a patch of jungle, prying into it; when Bruin, suddenly emerging from behind a projecting bank, twigged us, and was off as rapidly as his awkward gait permitted. He was noticed, however, pausing some distance off in the jungle up the hill. Putting up a sight, I fired, and down he came towards us, evidently hit we thought. I fired again at a glimpse of him through a bush: after which he was seen by the shikarries slowly trudging up the hill through the snow and bushes, shaking his head from side to side, as though, at least, highly disapproving our proceedings, if not actually a severe sufferer.

Two shikarries, confident he was hit, entered the bushes to track him. Phuttoo and I remained: and presently we saw another bear a long way up the ravine scoring the mountain on whose side we were. We signalled the others to us, and then proceeded to stalk the new comer, who, however, on our raising our heads to arrange for assault and battery, had wisely disappeared; but in his place was a musk deer, 'kustoora,' which I wounded. The poor creature scrambled off, one hind leg broken. Subhan with a rifle pursued, and overtaking the chase fired both barrels at some ten yards without effect. He then got above the deer, and kept it down the hollow, the poor thing making astonishing efforts to escape; which it would have done down the valley, but for an attendant there stationed, who, being hailed, joined in the chase, and turned the animal up towards me who, by the help of two mountain staves, was descending rapidly to the scene of action, followed by Phuttoo.

At last the persecuted creature came within range, paused, and a well-aimed Whitworth bolt rolled it lifeless down the hill, to the great satisfaction of the shikarries who, shouting triumphantly, dashed down to perform the necessary Mahomedan ceremony of cutting the throat with an invocation to Allah, without which the flesh would be to them unlawful; and they entertained a shrewd idea it would become their perquisite, the rather as I had a sheep slaughtered that morning for my own consumption.

Heavy rain overtook us; but this little success cheered us up, and the prospect of a feast of flesh put the shikarries in high spirits.

25th May. Off in the direction taken the first evening, when I fired with such ill success. We did not catch a glimpse of a bear now, though on that occasion we saw five.

In the evening, we went up the valley, and having met a pedlar merchant, and three coolies with his goods coming down we considered it of no use going on, so returned. I had some talk with these people, the ugliest imaginable. They had come from Ladâk, and described the road to be at present all but impassable from depth of snow, and do not think it will be safe for a month. We saw two bears far up a valley on the left hand, as we neared camp, and resolved to seek them the following morning.

26th May. We started as arranged, crossed the bridge, and as soon as we obtained a view into the vale were gratified by the sight of two bears quietly feeding, and in a favourable position. We made a long and careful stalk to the spot, and looking about found our expected prey had moved out of ken. We saw another bear higher up above us, but went in search of our former acquaintances, giving them the preference.

After a time we spied them as yet free from suspicion; and got near enough to the larger which, however, just as I had gained breath and position to fire, got behind a bush which partially screened it: and the other one, occupying an open spot, whence our every move was conspicuous, I judged it best to wait a bit; and as the latter animal was slowly approaching the former as it fed, I felt secure of one or both, when, to my infinite disgust, the larger of the two suddenly scuttled off, alarmed, as I believe, by the noise of the third bear which was now nearing the others. However that may be, off it went. The other, catching the alarm, turned and fled too, but stopped to look about for the cause of alarm; so, taking advantage of this chance, I levelled Whitworth, and rolled him over, a long shot. Up he got, and hobbled off, his left shoulder apparently broken. I prepared to pursue; but seeing No. 3, confused and frightened, had turned, and was making off in our direction, I tried to intercept him, but he kept a long way off. However, taking aim at about two hundred and fifty yards, I hit him, and then pursued him, sending Subhan after the other with a rifle.

I had three shots at my retreating game, without any apparent effect, and then returned towards camp. Subhan overtaking us, having been equally unsuccessful, gloom and despondency pervaded the party. I half try to dissuade myself from trying the chase again, and take to sketching instead.

In the evening a bear was visible on another portion of the mountain over the village, high up near the summit. It was proposed to try and stalk him. Professing my confirmed opinion we could never get at him, I, however, fell in with the wishes of the shikarries, and with complete indifference as to the result toiled up the hill-side: and with our best tactics and every effort to circumvent Bruin, he was too many for us, and betook himself to a timely retreat, ere we had approached within five hundred yards of him.

I enjoyed a magnificent prospect from the height we had reached, which gave a beautiful view right down the Wurdwan, for I should think, twenty or thirty miles; and the effects of the lengthening shadows of declining day were extremely fine. How I wished I was an artist, to be able to possess myself of that lovely scene.

I was amply repaid for the fatigues I had undergone, and became perfectly reconciled to my ill luck, and felt quite content and thankful for the blessings I enjoy so abundantly.

27th May. Sunday. At daybreak this morning, when in that state of indecision so often felt at that hour, even by practical early risers like myself, as to turning out forthwith to the raw and frosty air, or indulging in the snug comforts of bed and blankets, Mooktoo intruded his head into my canvas sanctum, and, with sparkling eyes, said there was a bear on the hill side close by. I replied, "It matters not; I am not going after him;" on which he retired. I shortly got up and went out. Sure enough, there was Bruin, as if conscious of security, quietly selecting his herbage on the hill opposite my tent. I could, by walking down to the river's bank--he was on the other side--have got within eighty yards of him, but allowed him the enjoyment of his Sabbath privileges, and saw him, ere long, retire into the jungle.

28th May. Off betimes up the Palgham path, a heavy, steady pull, principally over snow, which at this early hour was firm and afforded tolerable footing, but after being subjected to the heat of the sun becomes soft and treacherous, and very slippery.

We came across the tracks of ibex, with those of dogs in pursuit. Several spots renowned for the former animals were closely reconnoitred, but nothing was stirring.

As we ascended, the snow increased, and the chance of game became less. We paused awhile in an open space among lofty mountains, clad in their white wintry drapery, which here and there receding and opening out, and in other parts cleft into deep and rugged ravines, looked the "beau ideal" of an ibex ground. But still all was lifeless. It was an admirable picture of a winter scene, in all its congealed desolation.

Here we turned, and, retracing our steps some distance, entered another narrow valley, and sending Subhan ahead to observe the condition and prospects of the new route as to snow, he returned, shaking his head and saying there was no open ground in that direction. So nothing remained to be done, but to return to the bivouac.

The snow had by this time become difficult to traverse, lying as the path did on the steep slope of the mountain, at the bottom of which foamed a rapid torrent, and though advancing with cautious and measured steps suddenly my foot slipped, and down I went rapidly, sliding on my side over the smooth surface to the depths below. But a projecting fragment of rock, fallen from above, presented just enough irregularity for me to clutch hold of as I reached it, which luckily I got firm hold of; for Subhan, launching himself after me, came down with such an impetus that, had I not been thus fortified, we should both of us have been inevitably precipitated into the river beneath, which would in all probability have put a finale to my excursion.

We picked ourselves up, and our way on, now with our staves forming steps for my footing. I found the grass sandals here, in the slippery soft snow, worse than ordinary boots, as they gave no hold such as the raised heel does.

The shikarries, of course, though they slipped about, and fell too, found no real difficulty in getting on. I have addressed myself to discovering what can be the cause of such a marked difference, giving them such very superior power of adherence to a smooth, slippery, surface. The reason of this difference is, I believe, in the formation and use of the toes. The feet are remarkably short, and spread out at the toes like half a fan. These mountaineers have never cramped their feet by the use of such distorting leathern bondage, as we torture ourselves with; so that the toes, instead of being strained to a point, are spread out, and every one of them becomes practically a finger, affording clutch and support, which enables the possessors to move with confidence on any inclined surface, however smooth and steep, when, if they slip with one foot, they can easily recover themselves with the other: while we, having rendered our toes useless but as a lever 'en masse,' depend upon the ball of the foot for our hold, which gives, indeed, ample support on smooth level ground, but is quite inadequate for safe progress amid the dangerous paths that ibex hunting leads to. The latter part of our way lay over a snow drift inclining rapidly, down which we sped at a smart pace, digging in our heels, occasionally getting too much way on, and having to make considerable exertions to steer clear of danger. The exercise was exhilarating. Arrived in the village, I was met by Abdoolah, khansamah who, much excited, declared that thirteen animals, which he thought to be 'kustoora,' had just passed along the path on the other side the river, and were now in sight. We were much puzzled at this confident statement, and on bringing the spyglass to bear found the visitors to be a pack of wild dogs.

There the destructive rascals were, some standing, some reclining, looking as though quite at home, and ready for anything. They were a bright light-red, with sharp noses and pricked ears and long bushy tails, almost the size, and somewhat resembling, a middle-sized red Irish setter.

I moved towards them, but they were off immediately, though quite leisurely. There was great consternation and uproar in the village during the day. This troop of marauders, it would appear, crossed the river over the snow, some three or four miles up, and slinking down had audaciously attacked the cattle grazing within a few hundred yards of my tent. They had bitten two severely, and dispersed the others: but, being disturbed by the enraged peasants, had made off.

In the afternoon we went down the river after bears, of which I had myself seen four yesterday, in my evening stroll, on the opposite hill; and my servants reported two to have been feeding a long time just opposite my tent, while I was away on my fruitless expedition. As we wended our way towards a new bridge the villagers were putting up, we saw two bears across the river. We had to wait some time for the completion of the bridge: then crossed, and away up the hill, and had a hard difficult climb to the spot where I shot the 'kustoora,' after the bear that had led me there on that occasion: but the cunning fellow was "up to snuff," and we only saw his hind parts as he retreated in the distance. Much toil for nought. Descending to the river, Subhan, ever keen and vigilant, descried a bear up the hill near by. All dropped. The bear, unconscious of the neighbourhood of enemies, continued to feed. I adjusted Whitworth with much care, and, firing, rolled Bruin headlong down the hills where we despatched him. Leaving the 'melster' to skin him, it being now late and raining hard, we went on to camp.

Soon after we got in, the night closed on us. We heard loud shouts across the river from the 'melster,' to whom assistance was sent. He had been terrified out of his senses by the sudden appearance of the pack of wild dogs come to dispute the possession of the carcase with him, or even to worry him--all one to them.

No wonder he sung out lustily. A fire soon gleamed there and the work was safely accomplished. Great encouragement felt by the shikarries at this small success.

29th May. We had determined to push far up the valley, so started early. We saw an old and a young bear far up out of reach, and again saw the pack of wild dogs, whose presence sufficiently accounts for the small number of animals seen, and their extreme wariness. These brutes have been all over the valley: we find their traces in every direction we go.

The shikarries tell me they hunt most systematically, and in a manner so well planned and carried out as to be nearly always successful. When the presence and position of their prey is ascertained, they divide into couples, and take up their several allotted positions so as to cut off the animal pursued. Some run straight, relieving each other alternately; and whether going up or down fresh relays are at hand, so that the object they pursue has little chance of escape.

We reached the end of the valley, passing most likely spots for game, but all blank. We stopped till 3 P.M.; then retraced our steps, and when nearing camp a bear was perceived some way up the mountain.

The stalk was arranged, and so successfully that we arrived within one hundred and fifty yards of Bruin, unannounced by smell or sound. I waited for breath; then, poising Whitworth, despatched the leaden messenger, which created much confusion in poor Bruin's mind and person. He rushed off: a ball from the Enfield smote him through the snout, and another so bewildered him that he turned and crossed us: two more missiles were discharged at him, but only shrinking he retreated out of sight. Guns loaded, pursuit took place, and the chase was soon seen, evidently in considerable difficulties, pausing at steep pitches of the hill.

Up we pursued through the snow, puffing, gasping, slipping about, but in the ardour of the chase heedless of danger. I got a position, and was aiming as well as my rapidly-heaving lungs permitted, when Phuttoo's staff escaping went rattling down the mountain, and the bear catching the clatter moved on, making for a narrow pass. We, too, pushed on, and, ascending the rock on one side of the pass with difficulty, saw our game resting evidently sick, having made his way across a ravine. He moved upwards, so, though breathless, panting, I was obliged to fire--distance perhaps one hundred and sixty yards or so: but Whitworth was true, and Bruin, struck in the back, retreated downwards, when a well-directed Enfield ball prostrated him lifeless.

There was great rejoicing; for it had been a very exciting and arduous chase, calling for energies and skill. The victim was sent rolling down the mountain side to the bottom, where he was duly despoiled, and a very fine, furry skin he wore.

The shikarries are now in great glee, and general congratulations, fun, and good humour, have replaced long faces, sighs, and melancholy.

30th May. Off to the place where I was so unfortunate the other morning, losing two wounded bears--a lovely, bright, frosty morning, following a bitter cold night. Nature was all smile and sparkle, the freshness of the air, and surrounding beauties of scenery, furnishing an ample stock from which to draw abundant enjoyment without the addition of other stimulus.

But, from the first height on which we stopped to examine the surrounding ground a bear was espied in motion. He stopped in a grassy hollow to feed; so, the mode of approach having been determined, we ascended until in his immediate neighbourhood, and, it being ascertained he was still on that spot, I took up position, and saluted him with a missile from Whitworth. He flinched, and made off: but two successive shots from the Enfield rolled him over stone dead. The first shot had passed through his body. He was rolled down the hill-side to be skinned; and, there leaving him, we continued our search for more victims, but unsuccessfully, so returned to camp.

31st May. Before starting this morning I was informed by the sepoy attending me, who with two coolies had been sent yesterday down the valley to Busman to procure two sheep and other supplies for the onward journey, that he had selected--I suppose, seized on--two sheep, when the villagers collecting set upon him, abused and beat him and the coolies, setting his authority as the Maharajah's servant and my attendant at defiance. This outrage created intense indignation. The shikarries were profuse in their abuse, and suggested all sorts of retaliation. It being necessary that something should be done to vindicate my dignity, and also to prevent a repetition of such misconduct which, if permitted to go unpunished, would prevent Europeans coming into the valley at all, I announced my intention of sending in the sepoy, with coolies and skins, to carry my complaint and make his own statement to the Vizier at Sirinuggur. This was to be carried out after breakfast. The shikarries and other attendants were pacified with this decision.

We then took the same direction as yesterday, and after a mile or two's trudge spied a bear in an open place, difficult of approach. We made a long circuit, and stalked up to his position with great caution and patience, but found his place vacant, and no clue to his retreat.

We pursued our way, and discovered another hairy individual taking his morning meal in a ravine. I got within fifty yards of him, and knelt, awaiting a clear view of his person, now partially eclipsed by bushes. His whole broadside being presented, I fired and over he rolled--got up, made an approach to us, then disappeared up the hill-side. I had not the least doubt he was shot right through behind the shoulder. Subhan, after some little delay, went after him, but returned, not finding blood on the track, which is by no means an incontestible proof, as it is very difficult to detect blood in small quantities on the bare dark soil, and the thickness and length of the woolly coat of bears, at this season of the year, absorbs and staunches the blood which, thus congealing, does not in many cases reach the ground, until the wounded animal has gone some distance.

I returned disconsolate, and wrote an official report to Punnoo, Vizier, of the misconduct of the Busman folk, recommending some check to be administered to them. Whilst writing, my messenger, whom I had despatched to Sirinuggur for lead, returned bringing that indispensable article with him, of which I had now quite run out, having expended so many bullets uselessly, firing all my barrels at wounded bears when at long distances, for the chance of a 'nailer' being administered. He brought me also letters and newspapers, a very seasonable supply; for in this solitary mode of life these links, which connect one with absent friends and keep one 'au fait' of passing occurrences, are invaluable.

In the evening we went down valley and across the river after a bear on the opposite hill. We were cut off from him, when in sight, by a deep hollow which we could not cross without exposing ourselves, and the brute was even now uneasy, looking up, and sticking up his ugly snout in the air to catch any objectionable savour. We drew back, and made a long detour, and arrived to find Bruin's place void.

We went on through some jungle, and suddenly started a bear to the surprise of both parties. He scuttled off in their usual clumsy style, and pulled up on the hill behind a large tree whose branches protected him. With studious care I endeavoured to open his position, and at last got sight of his forehand; he was from one hundred and fifty to two hundred yards off. I rested the Enfield, and, taking steady aim, fired, and evidently hit. He scrambled up the rocks, I firing my other barrels at him, apparently striking him again, but not stopping him.

I sent Subhan after him, and then moved slowly on, much dejected at such repeated failures, the more vexatious from the animals being badly wounded. After some time we heard a shot, and congratulated ourselves on Subhan's having retrieved the bear: but when he, after a long time, rejoined us, we found that he had fired at a 'kustoora,' and had not seen the bear.

Back to camp:--Subhan and Mooktoo remaining unusually late at the fire, I went out, and they told me they had a proposal to make, viz. to leave me and Phuttoo to cast bullets in the morning, while they tried to find the wounded bear. I accepted readily this suggestion.

1st June. We converted all the lead into bullets before breakfast. I was reading the papers, when Subhan popped his head into the tent, and gave me the welcome intelligence, that they had brought back the skin of the bear, having tracked him high up the hill, where he was found under a rock, and he made a charge at them: they, however, killed him. My shot had entered immediately behind the left shoulder, passed through the body, and out behind the right shoulder. Yet he went off as described; and would have been lost, as many others have been, had he not been thus tracked up. It is wonderful what they carry away.

By advice of the shikarries I resolved to move to-morrow down to Goombrah, now evacuated by t'other hunter, who is said to have killed only two or three bears there, and not to have climbed the hills at all; so, as ibex are said to be tolerably numerous among the mountain summits, I may have a chance of getting a shot at those much-prized animals--but I quite dread the work.

2nd June. I was informed by Phuttoo at an early hour, that it was raining and cloudy, so countermanded the move for the present, hoping that the day might clear.

At 1 P.M. the weather mended; the clouds broke, the sun appeared, and we thought we were sure of a fine afternoon. I struck tent, packed up and started all the things, remaining myself behind for an hour or two, for the chance of a meeting with Bruin.

We were miserably deceived in the weather; black clouds rolled up, thunder crashed overhead, and down descended the rain in torrents. We waited some time under shelter for a lull; then set forth, soon to experience a down-pour as heavy as ever. We trudged grimly through it. Having crossed the river, we saw an old and two young bears on the side we had left--soon after, another on the same side. We could not retrace our steps in such weather--all the hunt washed out of us.

We arrived at our new bivouac, draggled and wet--found the tent just up, but nothing yet in it--got under the eaves of a house, and patiently abided the announcement of the tent being ready; then changed clothes, had a roaring fire lit close to my tent, and made a hearty dinner. The night bitterly cold.

3rd June. Sunday. The ground was white with snow, there having been a considerable fall during the night.

I strolled up the narrow valley, which is similar to that of Kuzuznai, leading from the Wurdwan in an easterly direction--a brawling stream dashing down it, the mountains steep, and their lower portions covered with pines on the southern side; more accessible, bare, and open, on the north. I enjoyed a delightful stroll. The sunlit features of the romantic scenery, bright and glowing, though wintry, harmonizing with my feelings, suggested a happy train of meditation which accompanied me back to my tent.

The afternoon was dismal and sloppy, rain continuing on and off till night.

A noisy brawl was occasioned by my people having gone out to procure a sheep, and having, after much trouble and search, succeeded in discovering at a neighbouring hamlet the place where they had been concealed, 'nolens volens,' brought off two fine ewes, the ostensible proprietors following with a 'posse comitatus', clamorous and loudly vociferating remonstrances, and indulging in their choicest abuse.

It certainly goes much against my grain to sanction any forcible appropriation: but what to do? These Wurdwanites are the most impracticable of savages. It is quite useless treating them with the kindness, liberality, and consideration one practises to civilized people. They neither understand nor appreciate it. They refuse to part with their stock or produce, as it would appear, solely to enjoy the unaccustomed luxury of asserting a right, and the privilege of giving a refusal; which they think they may do with impunity in the case of a saheb, but would crouch and fawn in the most abject servility, were it one of the native officials. This is a noticeable trait in the character of this rude people. I am, therefore, compelled to exercise arbitrary authority over them, or I should not be able to procure supplies. Their ungracious denials do not proceed from any wish to retain their property in expectation of higher profit: for I, as do others I understand, pay them nearly double the price the articles are worth, or would realise if disposed of to native dealers in the usual course of sale. So that one can only attribute their rejection of liberal trading offers to churlish brutish perversity. The shikarries affirm this to be the real state of the case, so I feel little compunction in allowing things to take their course, always insisting conscientiously on a liberal rate of payment being actually made.

I do not know either the extent, or the amount of population, of this valley: but the latter must be inconsiderable, as the soil, though extremely fertile, is limited as regards facilities for cultivation. The valley and its ramifications being narrow, with sides steeply shelving, offer few and small level spots for raising grain: and the whole surface is covered with rocks and stones, the 'debris' of the impending mountains, shattered at periods by convulsions of nature; and every winter greatly increases these impediments to husbandry, when the accumulated snows, becoming detached, are precipitated into the valleys, carrying with them countless stones which, gathering as they descend, are scattered below in all directions. The small patches of arable are, therefore, cleared with great labour, the stones being collected in heaps: and some idea may be formed of their quantity by the fact that spaces of only a yard in width, intervening between these heaps, are ploughed and sown. The cultivated lands, viewed from the heights above, may be likened to a piece of cloth on which a child, having spilt ink, has amused itself by tracing it all over, in charming varieties of lineal figures, with its fingers.

Barley is principally, if not altogether, the produce, and its farina, with curds, the staple food of the people. Though agricultural efforts are thus necessarily restricted, ample scope is given for the depasturing of flocks and herds, the mountains up to a great height being well covered with a rich earth yielding an abundant vegetation, suitable in its varieties to all animals, and offering not a few edible productions to man; such for example, as leeks, garlic, carrots, and other roots, and several sorts of substitutes for greens, whose species and names I am ignorant of, but which I daily devour.

The cattle are small, and by the laws of the ruler of these realms, a Hindoo, are strictly forbidden to be killed. The penalty for disobedience was, until recently, death; and many instances of its fulfilment have been related to me, Mussulmen being the victims of this iniquitous system. But since British influence has been brought to bear upon the Prince of this territory, and a wholesome respect for our government, and dread of its displeasure, established, "nous avons changé toute cela." It is not now a life for a life, but the punishment is the next in severity in the penal code.

Cattle are used for carriage, countless droves being employed in the conveyance of salt, and every other article of merchandise between Cashmere and the adjoining countries. As food the milk is eaten when curdled, and some 'ghee' is made, but not for the market.

Sheep are plentiful and large flocks are brought into the valley to depasture from Cashmere. Their fleece is their chief remunerating property. A few goats are reared, and at every village I have met with a score or so of ponies of an indifferent, leggy breed. Fowls are not plentiful, and gardens appear nowhere.

The inhabitants are very low in the scale of civilization, but as they have little acquaintance with things beyond their valley, they have few wants or desires which it does not supply. Their existence is patriarchal and simple. Either sex have but one style of garment, a baggy, shapeless smock of warm woollen homespun, the produce of their own flocks, and the work of their own hands.

Their houses, or hovels, are of wood, the sides of logs, the interstices filled with clay, the roofs of split slabs. No care is taken in their construction to fit them for protection from the extreme rigours of the winter; so I conclude their inmates suffer much at that season, as do their flocks and herds, as their unthrifty, apathetic habits do not allow them to store up sufficient dry fodder to support them, while the deep snows cover the ground. Dirt and filth abound in the villages and their precincts; and the people are martyrs to hydrophobia. The males are stout, hale, and well-looking: the females, as far as my limited opportunities of observation permitted an opinion, are haggard and ugly. They, poor creatures! as in all races where man's nature is least refined, have the greater portion of the labours of life to endure. The males give me the idea of being contented and happy enough in their ignorance. They profess Mahomedanism, and in each hamlet is a small musjed, with either a resident moulvie, or an itinerant one, to officiate.

They complain much, as do all the Maharajah's subjects, of the heavy imposts levied on them, and to this attribute their indifference to bettering their condition, asserting that if they increased their substance, they would be only the marks for the rapacity of the government screws. This is, no doubt, in part true; but I think their natural indisposition to exertion is now the main hindrance to industry and enterprise. These poor peasants have to pay the Maharajah five rupees per annum for every hundred head of sheep, cattle, &c., and three rupees for every measure of ground computed to yield one maund (eighty lbs) of grain. This latter burden they bitterly complain of, as whatever the harvest the full amount is exacted: and when it is considered that the intrinsic value of the maund of grain,--the marketable price--is but one rupee, it does appear abominably rapacious to extort three times the value, and whether the harvest fails or not. Formerly, under a system but lately changed, the cultivators paid in kind, equally dividing the produce, and with this they were, they say, satisfied. At any rate, they now view its abrogation with regret.

As regards the sporting resources and capabilities of the Wurdwan, they no longer exist, but in the traditions and memories of by-gone days. These grounds have been now so constantly hunted, and the animals yet surviving, so harassed and disturbed, that with the exception of a few bears--ignoble game--there remains hardly an animal to reward the toil of the hunter. After my present experience, I would not myself again, nor would I recommend any other sportsman to try his chance in the Wurdwan, unless in the autumn, when the stags bellow; there may be, possibly, good sport then, but I should be disposed to try elsewhere.