Tope of Belur.
We visited Osman, which is about four miles from the King’s road, at the base of the lower Hemilaya, to examine a mound or “tope,” like that of Manikyala, which stands on the nook of a range of hills near the ruined village of Belur,about a mile beyond Osman. The construction of the building, as depicted in the annexed sketch, gives it to the same era as that of Manikyala. Neither of the buildings are perfect; and the one now delineated differs from the other in the greater length of the shaft. It is fifty feet high, or about two thirds of the height of Manikyala. It has also been opened, and the square aperture formed of cut stone has descended into the building. The small pilasters are likewise to be recognised, but the mouldings are more numerous, and the general outline of the building somewhat different. The “tope” of Belur is a conspicuous object, from its elevated situation, but I could not gather a tradition regarding it from the numerous population. Like one in search of the philosopher’s stone, I was led from place to place, and now learned that there were two buildings similar to these “topes,” beyond the Indus, between Peshawur and Cabool. We also discovered the ruins of another tope, three miles eastward of Rawil Pindee. The few coins which I found at the tope of Belur were of the same type as those already described. Seeing that both the structures of Manikyala and Belur are pierced by a shaft that descends into the building, I incline to a belief, that in these “topes” we have the tombs of a race of princes who once reigned in Upper India, and that theyare either the sepulchres of the Bactrian kings, or their Indo-Scythic successors, mentioned in the Periplus of the second Arrian. The rudeness of the coins would point to the latter age, or second century of the Christian era.
Garden of Hoosn Abdall.
From the beautiful rivulets of Osman we passed down the valley, and, after a march of seven miles, found ourselves in the garden of Hoosn Abdall,—a spot which attracted the munificent Emperors of Hindoostan. It is situated between two bare and lofty hills, whose brown and naked tops do not contribute much to its beauty; still it must be an enchanting place in the hot months. The garden houses are now mouldering to decay, and weeds hide the flowers and roses; yet the peach and apricot trees glowed with blossom, the vines clung to their branches, and the limpid water gushed in torrents from the rock. Some hundred springs rise in the limit of this small garden, and, after washing its beds, pay their tribute to a brook which passes on to the Indus. They form pools, which are stored with fish, that may be seen darting about in the clear water. The spring had commenced when we visited this delightful place. As we passed it, our view opened upon the valley of Drumtour, that leads to Cashmeer; and the range of hills at Puklee, covered with snow, were to be traced in chain with more lofty mountains beyond them. Thefertile plain of Chuch and Huzara also lay before us.
See the Indus.
We came in sight of the Indus, at a distance of fifteen miles. It could be traced from its exit through the lower hills to the fort of Attok, by the vapour which hung over it like smoke. As the water of the Indus is much colder than the atmosphere, it may account for this phenomenon. We encamped at Huzroo, which is a mart between Peshawur and Lahore. The people were now quite changed; they were Afghans, and spoke Pooshtoo. I was struck with their manly mien, and sat down with delight on a felt, with an Afghan, who civilly invited me to converse with him. I did not regret to exchange the cringing servility of the Indians for the more free and independent manners of Cabool. An itinerant goldsmith, who had heard of our intended journey to Bokhara, came and chatted with us. He had travelled there, and even in Russia; and showed us a copper copec which he had brought with him on his return. He spoke of the equity and justice of the people among whom we were to travel, which made this rambling jeweller a welcome visiter. He was a Hindoo.
Encamp on the Indus.
On the morning of the 14th of March, we had the pleasure of encamping on the banks of the Indus, with the troops of Runjeet Sing, now on the frontier, under Sirdar Huree Sing. Thatchief came to meet us with all the forms of eastern pomp, and conducted us to a comfortable suite of tents which he had prepared for us. On our march to the river, we passed the field of battle where the Afghans made their last stand, now some twenty years ago, on the eastern side of the Indus. They were commanded by the Vizier Futteh Khan, who fled, panic struck, though not defeated. A horde, as numerous as that of Xerxes or Timour, might encamp on this spacious plain, which is an entire sheet of cultivation. It was covered with rounded stones, (many of which were granite,)—an unerring proof of the agency of water. We visited our host, the commandant, who welcomed us with his troops and officers in array, and gave us the cordial reception of friends. Our conversation turned on the warlike deeds of Runjeet, and his passing the Indus both with and without a ford. We grew interested in the subject, and soon made up our minds to, at least, make the attempt of fording this great river.
Ford the Indus.
We mounted one of the chief’s elephants, and, accompanied by himself and 200 horsemen, passed a few miles down the river to the village of Khyrakhuel, about five miles above Attok. The stream was here divided into three branches, and in the two first gushed with amazing violence. I did not like the appearanceof the torrent; and, though I said nothing, would have willingly turned back; but how could that be, when I had been the foremost to propose it? The chief rallied his escort round him, threw a piece of silver money into the river, according to custom, and dashed into it. We followed, and the whole of our party reached in safety. While on the island, and preparing to enter the principal branch, a melancholy accident occurred to some stragglers who attempted to follow us. They were seven in number; and, instead of crossing at the exact point where we had effected the passage, they passed a few yards lower down, with the water but knee deep, yet very rapid. The whole seven were unhorsed in a moment, and swept into the stream. The ferrymen ran to their assistance, and extricated them all but one poor fellow and two horses, whom we could see struggle, and at last sink. The others were rescued with great difficulty, and two of them were all but dead. We were shocked at the catastrophe, and proposed to return, but the chief would not listen to it. He gave a laugh, and said, “What know ye, that these fellows (we thought they had all gone) may be kings in another world; and what is the use of a Seik if he cannot pass the Attok?” (Indus). The principal branch, however, was still in our front; and I onlyagreed to cross if the horsemen were left behind. “Leave my guard,” cried the chief, “impossible!” but we did leave it, and safely passed the ford. The footing was slippery, and the current shot with great rapidity: the colour of the water was blue, and it was exceedingly cold, which makes it trying to both man and beast. The elephants pressed up against the stream, and roared as we advanced. The excitement of such an undertaking is great, and would have been exhilarating, had not our joy been dimmed by such a calamity. This ford has often been used by the Seiks, but the passage has involved many serious accidents.
Story of a soldier.
A tale of a desperate soldier was here related to me, as having occurred at Lahore. He was a native of Hindoostan, and had murdered the adjutant of the regiment in which he was serving, in Runjeet’s army. An example was called for in the support of discipline; but Runjeet Sing has never shed blood since he attained his throne, and refused to put him to death, though urged to it by the French officers. The hands of the culprit were ordered to be amputated on the parade ground, before the troops, and were chopped off by an axe; the hemorrhage was arrested by immersing the stump in burning oil. The hands were nailed on a board, as a warning to the army, and the unfortunate man was dismissed with ignominy. A comrade conducted him to a ruined mosque, where he passed the night, but his spirit forbade him to survive his disgrace, and he resolved on committing suicide. Next day he threw himself into the river (Ravee): his resolution was shaken, and instead of drowning himself, he crossed the river, swimming with his handless stumps!
Attok.
We now proceeded to the fortress of Attok, which stands on a black slaty ridge, at the verge of the Indus, the “forbidden river” of the Hindoos. It was, indeed, a forbidden one to us, for the garrison had mutinied, ejected their officers, and seized upon the ferry-boats. Their arrears of pay were not forthcoming, and they had taken this means of informing Runjeet of their grievances. It was in vain that we produced the most peremptory orders, to receive us inside the walls, and show us the curiosities of the place; they replied, that our complaints would now be heard, since the Maharaja will know of their ill treatment towards us. Since they evinced no further contumacy, we halted outside, in a dilapidated mosque, and were not molested. It was useless to parley with irritated men, and I thought we were fortunate in prevailing on them, after a detention of two days, to give us a boat, in which we were ferried across the grand boundary of India, on the afternoon of the 17thof March. The water was azure blue, and the current exceeded six miles an hour. We passed in four minutes. About 200 yards above Attok, and before the Indus is joined by the Cabool river, it gushes over a rapid with amazing fury. Its breadth does not here exceed 120 yards; the water is much ruffled, and dashes like the waves and spray of the ocean. It hisses and rolls with a loud noise, and exceeds the rate of ten miles in the hour. A boat cannot live in this tempestuous torrent; but after the Cabool river has joined it, the Indus passes in a tranquil stream, about 260 yards wide and 35 fathoms deep, under the walls of Attok. This fortress is a place of no strength: it has a population of about 2000 souls.
Phenomenon at Attok.
Before crossing the Indus, we observed a singular phenomenon at the fork of the Indus and Cabool river, where an ignis fatuus shows itself every evening. Two, three, and even four bright lights, are visible at a time, and continue to shine throughout the night, ranging within a few yards of each other. The natives could not account for them, and their continuance during the rainy season is the most inexplicable part of the phenomenon, in their estimation. They tell you, that the valiant Man Sing, a Rajpoot, who carried his war of revenge against the Mahommedans across the Indus, fought abattle in this spot; and that the lights now seen are the spirits of the departed. I should not have credited the constancy of this will-o’-the-wisp, had I not seen it. It may arise from the reflection of the water on the rock, smoothed by the current: but then it only shows itself on a particular spot, and the whole bank is smoothed. It may also be an exhalation of some gas from a fissure in the rock, but its position prevented our examining it.
Washing gold.
We found the fishermen on the Indus and Cabool river washing the sand for gold. The operation is performed with most profit after the swell has subsided. The sand is passed through a sieve, and the larger particles that remain are mixed with quicksilver, to which the metal adheres. Some of the minor rivers, such as the Swan and Hurroo, yield more gold than the Indus; and as their sources are not remote, it would show that the ores lie on the southern side of the Hemilaya.