14th October. Sunday. I did not stir from the bivouac till the afternoon, passing the day reading, in pleasant enjoyment of my sylvan retreat. The coolies returned about 2P.M., bringing some apples, pears, and grapes—a welcome supply, but the grapes small and flavourless. In the afternoon I rambled some distance downwards to a seat commanding, at the same time, the magnificent prospect of the valley spread out below, and some ravines and dells on either hand likely to contain bara sing. Here I sat long meditating—thinking over the incidents of my excursion, and casting reflections forward on my future route, and arrival below. Nothing was seen or heard. Retracing my steps, it occurred to me from examination of the range of hills I was traversing, that I might hunt the ravine tried yesterday, and descend from thence, while the coolies and traps took the ordinary and easier route. On proposing this, it was cordially welcomed by the two hunters. Buddoo and coolies would make straight for Shalimah Bagh to whicha canal ran from the Dal lake. There he was to engage boats, and await our arrival.
15th October. We got away with earliest dawn—again heard the bara sing—again were they seen, and a shot all but obtained as they crossed the ridge as before. The guide was now sent down to drive the other ravine, and we kept along the ridge, and stopped in ambush a long time without seeing anything. Then, giving up, we resumed our downward course, and I had stopped to don another pair of grass sandals, when Mooktoo, looking down into the ravine, signalled game. On joining him, we saw a fine stag standing gazing at the guide who on the same level was trying to turn him up to us. But the provoking animal, as though quite up to the dodge and danger, preferred facing the guide and the stones he hurled to breasting the hill, and diving down took back up the bed of the river. This was the last episode of the chase of the bara sing.
A steep and slippery descent, not accomplished without some half-dozen tumbles, landed us in the bed of a ravine which crossed that we had been hunting at right-angles, and with its brawling torrent debouched on the open cultivated undulations lying over the Dal lake. A path leading through two villages, as usual shaded by fine chunars, brought us to the Shalimah Bagh, a monument of former magnificence and luxury, now neglected and desolate. Some patchwork repairs have been made this year to its buildings by the Maharajah, only enough to check ruin and decay here and there, to which everything here seems rapidly hastening. Following the now empty aqueduct, we reached the canal, and found two boats awaiting us, into one of which I stepped, and gladly extended myself on the soft namba spread for me. The passage from the Shalimah Bagh to my former bungalow occupied about an hour and three-quarters. The Jhelum was now some six or seven feet lower than before, and the stream proportionably moderate. I found all my baggage stowed in the bungalow, and ordered it to be ready for a start on the seventeenth, intending to get off myself, if possible, on the eighteenth.
16th October. After breakfast I took boat, and went first to a shawl merchant's, Mirza Mahomed Shah, and purchased articles for presents to dear ones at home; then to a papier-machè shop. Coming back, I found a card from Captain Tulloh, 21st P.N.I. He left to-day, I understood. But as I was sitting shut up for the night, and reading, I heard sounds as of an arrival, and voices as of a saheb, and sure enough there was Tulloh come to claim shelter, as his jan-pan broke down shortly after starting. We sat long chatting over our mutual excursions.
17th October. Both of us astir early. A merchant employed by Tulloh had brought his own horse to take him to Ramoo, and on my mentioning a difficulty in procuring money, he readily engaged to supply. Tulloh off, I had a talk with the merchant, Samhed Shah, a most respectable-looking and pleasant-mannered man. I agreed to go to his shop after breakfast, and was aggravated into buying a scarf, caps, and black choga—the latter not yet ready. All my baggage left this morning; Murad and party also. Abdoolah and Buddoo only remain with me. Suleiman informed me that the Rajah of Kopalu was here, and had received the Testaments. He would like to see me, but feared the jealousy of the Maharajah.
On my arrival I had been visited by an Affghan to whom I had before given ten rupees. He was, by his own report and that of many testimonials apparentlygenuine, of great service to our sick and wounded at the time of the Affghan disaster, for which humanity he had to flee his country on the withdrawal of the British troops, and (strange to say) has never been adequately rewarded by our Government, though his case has been brought forward and published. I promised to represent the matter to Sir R. Montgomery, in hopes of something being yet done for his benefit.
18th October. Samhed Shah not appearing by ten o'clock, I took boat and went down the river, and sent a man to his shop from which came a brother or partner and told me that the black choga would not be ready for three or four hours. On representing the delay and uncertainty to Abdoolah, he recommended putting off the start till to-morrow, and fetching Shupyim in one march. I now took leave of my three shikarries who had remained in order to escort me some miles out, but this further delay was too much for them, naturally enough as they had been more than five months absent from their families. I also took leave of the Baboo whose services have been invaluable. He refused any pecuniary reward, and I had difficulty in getting him to name any present from below that would be acceptable to him. After some time I suggested a revolver. This seemed to please him, so having two with my baggage, I engaged to send him one of them, and so we shook hands and parted. He has got a nag for me to take me to Ramoo, from the Maharajah's stud, he says. And now I have parted, I think, on the most friendly terms with my Cashmere allies and retainers.
At length came the long expected choga, just from the dyer's and still moist, so it had to be hung up. And now this busy day draws to a close, and to-morrow I quit this lovely country, so full of natural charms, but throughbad government with its vast resources so little developed. Would that it might fall into the hands of the British, without either usurpation or fraud such as we have been in the habit in India of pleasantly designating political necessity!
19th October. As I was still within the outskirts of Sirinuggur, a man halloaed to me to loose my dogs, little Sara and Fan, as there was shikar before me, and, looking up, there was a fine fox with a splendid brush scudding over the maidan, a great cur far behind him. My two little animals made a dash for him, but he just then crossed a bank; and they came back. I suppose the animal had escaped from trap or cage.
I arrived at Ramoo heartily tired of the native saddle, and was glad to mount my own Cabulli. My saddle was like an armchair after the other, and though the mid-day sun was hot I jogged on contentedly to Shupyim, where all my baggage still waited. It was now three o'clock, and I immediately directed all to move to Heerpoor, in order to reach Alliahabad to-morrow, where I shall join them. The old kotwal, a most obliging old fellow, welcomed me warmly, mindful of former backsheesh. Buddoo and baggage not arriving till nine, he sent me his charpoy and bedding, and placed his choga from his own shoulders on to mine, notwithstanding my protestations against his so denuding himself. He insisted, having plenty more, he said, at home. Abdoolah cooked me some chops, so altogether I fared admirably, and was just turning in, when Buddoo arrived. He had been detained by the delay and difficulty in obtaining a change of coolies at Serai.
20th October. Up ere dawn, and everything made ready for a start, the kotwal very busy, lending a helping hand. I gave him a long certificate, of which testimonialshe has hundreds, and takes much pleasure in exhibiting them to any saheb who may have sufficient patience and good temper to humour him. With a friendly farewell I set off on foot, and enjoyed a delightful march to Heerpoor, where I mounted Yarkandi who was full of spirits, and when in such a mood is very absurd with his clumsy frisking. The weather was lovely and scenery beautiful, admiring which and often dismounting from the very rocky and steep nature of the ground, I reached Alliahabad. My servants and coolies had been there some time. I ordered out my tent, but had better have put up in the old serai, for the wind outside was biting. The season, though, is much less advanced than last year, when the ground was covered with snow, and the undergrowth in the forests dead and prostrate as in mid-winter. Now the vegetation is only beginning to yield to the remorseless gripe of Jack Frost, enough still remaining to shelter a bear; though I saw none of those animals now, whereas last year I spied three on the bare ground.
The wind was wondrous shrewd, and put me in mind of Karakorum. I gave orders to halt here to-morrow, Sunday.
21st October. A severe frost, and bitter cold wind. I kept my tent, and breakfasted within. Finding I had no less than forty coolies—just fifteen more than I required in coming up, with my full supply of liquors, stores, lead, shot, and books, &c.—in spite of Abdoolah's reluctance, I ordered all the baggage together, and examined the contents of the kheltas, when I found that I could with ease reduce the number of loads to thirty-five. Such a lot of rubbish of Abdoolah's stowed away; some in every khelta, I think. Excepting the above slight disturbance, I passed a pleasant, cheerful day.
22nd October. Much fuss and bawling at a veryuntimely hour, yet the baggage not off as early as intended. The coolies took such a time to fit their loads to their fancies that I passed them all within a mile of camp, and trudged steadily on for the Pir—a heavy, steady pull of three miles or so. Thence I enjoyed the superb view—the whole valley, through which my homeward route lies, being unrolled in all its windings before me. And beautiful it looked, now just lit up by the risen sun. A few minutes to take an impression, and down I sped, the path—bad enough in itself—made more difficult than usual by the number of tattoos and bullocks which appear at this season to throng the narrow paths. It took me about an hour to reach the bottom. I was surprised to find the huge snowdrift, which I thought to be inconsumable—some always remaining to be renewed each winter—entirely dissolved; the mass of earth and stones it had collected alone remaining to mark its position. I scrambled from the bed of the torrent up that horrid bit of road immediately above it, and there was completely checked by a continuous string of some two hundred laden bullocks. As it was very possible to be sent rolling down the precipitous bank by a rude shock from their hard mass of salt, I pulled up for half an hour, and then on to Possianah, where I was welcomed by the man and woman who attend to the wants of wayfarers. Though I carried my usual hunter's breakfast, I gratified the old importunate couple by directing some chupatties and eggs to be prepared, and did not fail to do justice to them. I gave the old fellow a pukka rupee, for which liberal donation the pair pretended to offer up prayers on my behalf. Alas! the hypocrites! When Abdoolah arrived, they claimed payment of him for my refreshment, assuring him that such was my order. But Abdoolah knew my waysbetter, and was not deceived, though the man followed him a long distance, urging his claim. I walked the whole distance to Byramgullah, and enjoyed the exercise amid such lovely scenery. On the arrival of Abdoolah, and learning from him the attempted fraud of the Possianah 'traiteur,' I ordered the kotwal to be informed of it, that he might be fined and checked in such malpractices.
23rd October. On setting off I was accosted by the old delinquent of Possianah, who, it seems, had been immediately on my report brought with his wife to answer the charge. They were astonished and terrified at the position into which they had brought themselves, and were profuse in all sorts of asseverations of innocent intention. They stated that my servants had been supplied after me, and for this they demanded remuneration, considering my rupee as my individual backsheesh, as indeed it was. If this were true, they had right on their side, and it is very probable that such were the facts. But it is impossible to arrive at the truth in such a case, the Hindoo servants being as great adepts at lying as these people, especially where their interests are at stake. I could not even rely upon Abdoolah in such a case. I desired the kotwal to pardon them; but they are sure to be forced to give up the rupee.
This disposed of, I continued my progress, and was attended by a well-looking black-and-tan dog of the Ladâk breed, whose evident familiarity with Europeans made me think him a stray dog of the Survey department. He left me at the foot of the Rattan Panjal; up which steep mountain I ascended, and pausing to take a mental photograph of the splendid view presented from the top again pushed on, enjoying the beautiful scenery, varied at each turn of the winding path. I think nothing in the whole journey surpasses this. The forms of the hills are so fine and diversified, and the foliage so rich and abundant. I stopped by a bright gurgling stream in an enchanting spot. Reposing on a thick, soft turf, and canopied by sweet-smelling shrubs, I awaited the arrival of breakfast. In this locality, and on to Thanna, still bloom some deliciously-fragrant creepers, yielding a perfume like woodbine. With this exception, one misses the abounding fragrance enjoyed early in the year—one of the greatest charms of the journey to my mind.
I finished the remaining mile or two riding. There was a very perceptible change of temperature here, which induced me on arrival of my traps to effect a thorough change of costume. I was well remembered and pestered by beggars—one, a blind man, with a fearful goitre: one sees but few so afflicted in these mountain regions. My servants, to my surprise, brought with them the Ladâk dog. He had followed them, and was so pleased with my notice that, feeling sure I was not committing a theft, but only securing a truant or wanderer, I ordered him to be tied up, and to be enrolled on our strength for rations. Poor Sara is so dreadfully jealous that he has gone and secluded himself in the tent, and actually shed tears in his distress: he refused his dinner also, till I took it into the tent for him, and coaxed him to eat it.
A row just took place between the Maharajah's moonshi, or tax-gatherer, and some of my followers. I heard angry voices for some time, Suleiman appearing to be much aggrieved and loud in indignation. After repeatedly intimating his intention of appealing to me, he came and reported the said moonshi to be exceedingly intrusive and impertinent, insisting upon an examination of his bundles, and persevering therein in spite of hisremonstrances and those of Abdoolah, as well as threats of my vengeance. This representation Abdoolah confirmed, and assured me that no obstacle had been placed in the way of the moonshi inspecting the goods of the numerous hangers-on of my party. So I sallied forth, and calling to the moonshi ordered him to approach, and he hesitating to obey, I sent my sepoys to bring him to me. He then advanced amid a general bully-ragging. Suleiman accused him of abusing him. Believing there had been loss of temper on both sides, I asked the moonshi if he had any complaint to make, or if any of the strangers, who had attached themselves to my company, had attempted to evade his scrutiny. He replied, 'No:' so I cautioned him to execute his duties in a more becoming manner, and not to interfere where he had no authority. And so amid general clamour the party dispersed, the moonshi strutting off with his myrmidons, with an air of immense importance and offended dignity. Suleiman did not meet with any of the enquiries met with when coming up. He was told they had dispersed here and there, in one employment or other. The Ladâk dog, dubbed 'Bhoota,' has taken to his new quarters by my tent, and commenced his duties as watch-dog, barking in a fine rich base voice. Sara still in the dumps.
24th October. A pleasant march to Rijaori. Excepting a few stony places, this is a tolerable path, much the best of the whole route. Once again I reclined under those fine chunars—the last I shall see, as they are the first when coming. The young fishermen were soon in attendance with bait, and gave me a full account of the great success of Bucksby White saheb (24th) who stopped here eight days, and caught many fish, some very large, but nothing like mine. They dwelt forcibly on his giving them five rupees, backsheesh—pukka rupees, too. I gotmy tackle in order, but from the report of the low state of the river and clearness of the water did not anticipate sport; still thought I ought to try, so started off at four, and tried two favourite pools which were so still and clear that I remained but a short time, judging that all attempts would be vain to catch a big one, and I cared not for a small one. So I wound up and returned, no ways disappointed, the sun now setting and the effects charming.
I read to-day in a back number of theLahore Chroniclea letter signed 'Traveller,' purporting to be a just representation of the condition of the Cashmiries under the Maharajah's rule, which he describes to be most satisfactory—the whole country highly cultivated, inhabitants well off and contented, and signs of good government and prosperity everywhere. A man of small powers of observation might possibly be deceived to such an extent, however difficult, but when this scribbler comes to draw comparisons between the Maharajah's and the British government favourable to the former, especially in the matter of the repair of roads—a process altogether unknown in the Maharajah's dominions—one cannot help suspecting the writer to have been tempted by a douceur; to have been engaged by the Maharajah specially thus to misrepresent facts, and give a false colour to realities in Cashmere, in order to mislead the public, and blind distant enquirers as to the nature of the Maharajah's rule and the condition of his people. I can imagine no other reason for such a palpable perversion of truth than seeing objects through the golden hues of the Maharajah's spectacles.
25th October. I got a considerable wetting crossing the river which though now so low is full of irregularities, deep holes, and terrible smooth round stones. It iscertainly a very awkward ford at the best of times. I discovered some duck in a deep pool, and dropped one wounded. The two little dogs gave chase, little Fan first plunging into the deep water at which the usually forward Sara hesitated. Away they went, and there was a grand duck hunt. The bird, as the dogs neared it, dived, and so crossed the width of the pool to my side, its course discovered by the tell-tale bubbles, and there it took refuge under the thick bushes fringing the bank. Now in plunged the sporting syce, Ruttoo, and was immediately up to his neck. He peered under the bushes as I made my way above, and we had gone their length without retrieving the bird, when a violent hurry-scurry took place forward, and the little dogs were full cry after their poor, quacking, hobbling victim which was secured just as it regained the brink of the water. There were a good many black partridges about here, and many fine fish seen basking. The Yarkandi lost a shoe, and believing him to be lame I dismounted, but think the cunning old fellow did it on purpose to humbug me as I noticed that he went all right when I was off him. Reaching the old Serai, I found a new baraduri erected on a fine airy prominence over the river, a great convenience to travellers. A havildar and six sepoys turned out in full fig to salute me, looking very clean and smart. I had a long chat with the havildar, a very civil fellow: he begged some powder as he is fond of shikar, and there are pea-fowl, wild-duck, jungle-fowl, and partridge in the neighbouring jungle.
26th October. The havildar provided me with a chuprassee who was to shew me a different and better road than that I had come by. But, excepting about a mile immediately on quitting the baraduri which lay by the river-side, he took me by the old stony route, therebeing no better, I presume. The skeleton of the murderer appeared to have fallen from the ropes which had suspended it, relieving the public of a most repulsive spectacle. I took up my old camp ground in preference to going on to the baraduri, at which, however, I understand all travellers stop and are satisfied.
27th October. In consequence of the increasing heat of the sun as we neared the plains, I made an earlier start than usual. It was still far from light as I crossed the river which, to my surprise, I was able to do on stepping stones, so low is it from the absence of rain, I suppose. As I was crossing, two duck flew by within easy shot, and as they returned I got my gun ready, and dropped one which fell some way off up stream. Reloading I went after it, and had almost given it up, when Sara tracked it up, and a hunt took place in the water, the two little dogs working well and securing the game. Mounting the hill I hailed the old couple at top, and ordered some milk: the old woman came forth with it, and we had a chat. These poor people were robbed of all their little wealth not long before I came this way, and have recovered nothing. The thief was one upon whom they had bestowed hospitality, a sort of faquir who are one and all impostors, if not rogues. The old lady, as though pleased with our colloquy, brought some ripe plantains, evidently rarities in these regions.
Crossing another stream, a small flock of wild fowl flew over. I dismounted, and got my gun, and as good luck would have it they came back overhead, and firing both barrels one bird fell dead, a fine grey widgeon. Then I jogged on to Saidabad. It is now very hot in the middle of the day, so I put up in the baraduri, though there are many objections—a number of hornets in the roof, and a noisy party of natives in an adjoining part.
Halting here the next day (Sunday), I was off on Monday morning ere the stars had disappeared, and surmounted the long and rugged ascent. The descent was tiresome—long, stony, and steep—but I hastened on without a pause till I emerged from the narrow ravine opening on to the level cultivated lands, the commencement of the interminable plains of the Punjab. I arrived in good time at Bhimber, and found to my satisfaction a chowdree from Lahore stationed here to arrange dâks for officers coming from Cashmere—a capital and considerate plan. My servants and baggage arriving, I arranged things for the journey, keeping the head with me; settled with servants and coolies, tipped sepoys, packed up the revolver with a letter for the Baboo, and having dined on wild duck, and taking an ample supply of 'vivers' for the road, entered my dooly, and was borne off with the uncomfortable prospect of a tedious and dusty two days' journey to Amritsir. And here I conclude my diary, having succeeded far beyond my expectations in maintaining it in some order and method.
Note.—The skull, on being examined by medical men, was pronounced to be that of an Asiatic.
END OF DIARY.
The sad task now remains of recording the death of the writer, which took place at Meean Meer on the 23rd of August, 1861, under the circumstances mentioned in the following extract from theLahore Chronicle:—"It is with deep grief that we announce the death last night from cholera of that admirable officer and most excellent man,Augustus Henry Irby, Lieutenant-Colonel Commanding the 51st King's Own Light Infantry. In him the public service and society have lost one of its most honourable members, and the officers and men whom he commanded one they esteemed as a warm-hearted comrade and true friend. In all relations of life, ColonelIrbyhad won the esteem of those with whom he had connection. He knew his duty thoroughly and did it; when his regiment moved out of the cantonments to escape, if possible, from the pestilence which has struck down more than one hundred and twenty of them, he remained with the sick, caught the contagion, and died at his post."
The sad task now remains of recording the death of the writer, which took place at Meean Meer on the 23rd of August, 1861, under the circumstances mentioned in the following extract from theLahore Chronicle:—"It is with deep grief that we announce the death last night from cholera of that admirable officer and most excellent man,Augustus Henry Irby, Lieutenant-Colonel Commanding the 51st King's Own Light Infantry. In him the public service and society have lost one of its most honourable members, and the officers and men whom he commanded one they esteemed as a warm-hearted comrade and true friend. In all relations of life, ColonelIrbyhad won the esteem of those with whom he had connection. He knew his duty thoroughly and did it; when his regiment moved out of the cantonments to escape, if possible, from the pestilence which has struck down more than one hundred and twenty of them, he remained with the sick, caught the contagion, and died at his post."
The sad task now remains of recording the death of the writer, which took place at Meean Meer on the 23rd of August, 1861, under the circumstances mentioned in the following extract from theLahore Chronicle:—
"It is with deep grief that we announce the death last night from cholera of that admirable officer and most excellent man,Augustus Henry Irby, Lieutenant-Colonel Commanding the 51st King's Own Light Infantry. In him the public service and society have lost one of its most honourable members, and the officers and men whom he commanded one they esteemed as a warm-hearted comrade and true friend. In all relations of life, ColonelIrbyhad won the esteem of those with whom he had connection. He knew his duty thoroughly and did it; when his regiment moved out of the cantonments to escape, if possible, from the pestilence which has struck down more than one hundred and twenty of them, he remained with the sick, caught the contagion, and died at his post."
"It is with deep grief that we announce the death last night from cholera of that admirable officer and most excellent man,Augustus Henry Irby, Lieutenant-Colonel Commanding the 51st King's Own Light Infantry. In him the public service and society have lost one of its most honourable members, and the officers and men whom he commanded one they esteemed as a warm-hearted comrade and true friend. In all relations of life, ColonelIrbyhad won the esteem of those with whom he had connection. He knew his duty thoroughly and did it; when his regiment moved out of the cantonments to escape, if possible, from the pestilence which has struck down more than one hundred and twenty of them, he remained with the sick, caught the contagion, and died at his post."
HENRY W. STACY, PRINTER, HAYMARKET, NORWICH.
Transcriber's notes:The following is a list of changes made to the original. The first line is the original line, the second the corrected one.suggestion; so, leaving a man to helpthenon, I continuedsuggestion; so, leaving a man to helpthemon, I continueddescended to the bed of theravine,The Bruin family,descended to the bed of theravine.The Bruin family,established, "nous avonschangètoute cela." It is notestablished, "nous avonschangétoute cela." It is not8th June. An early start, and a stiff job climbingthe themountain,8th June. An early start, and a stiff job climbingthemountain,and, Subhan having by my order cut theanimalsthroatand, Subhan having by my order cut theanimal'sthroatsuch a growl as sent his tormenters flying in alldirectionssuch a growl as sent his tormenters flying in alldirections.a total failure, tattoos being in alldirections,a total failure, tattoos being in alldirections.ice in themorning,I was only informed, when starting,ice in themorning.I was only informed, when starting,loudyfor Buddoo: they were all fast asleep, and, afterloudlyfor Buddoo: they were all fast asleep, and, afterthe aid of theirbeleaguredcountrymen, Walli Khan'sthe aid of theirbeleagueredcountrymen, Walli Khan'slargely in all produce, and exercising amonoplyof tealargely in all produce, and exercising amonopolyof tea
Transcriber's notes:
The following is a list of changes made to the original. The first line is the original line, the second the corrected one.
suggestion; so, leaving a man to helpthenon, I continuedsuggestion; so, leaving a man to helpthemon, I continued
descended to the bed of theravine,The Bruin family,descended to the bed of theravine.The Bruin family,
established, "nous avonschangètoute cela." It is notestablished, "nous avonschangétoute cela." It is not
8th June. An early start, and a stiff job climbingthe themountain,8th June. An early start, and a stiff job climbingthemountain,
and, Subhan having by my order cut theanimalsthroatand, Subhan having by my order cut theanimal'sthroat
such a growl as sent his tormenters flying in alldirectionssuch a growl as sent his tormenters flying in alldirections.
a total failure, tattoos being in alldirections,a total failure, tattoos being in alldirections.
ice in themorning,I was only informed, when starting,ice in themorning.I was only informed, when starting,
loudyfor Buddoo: they were all fast asleep, and, afterloudlyfor Buddoo: they were all fast asleep, and, after
the aid of theirbeleaguredcountrymen, Walli Khan'sthe aid of theirbeleagueredcountrymen, Walli Khan's
largely in all produce, and exercising amonoplyof tealargely in all produce, and exercising amonopolyof tea