THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES *&/&* RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THK RAJPOOTS: BEING THE NARRATIVE OF A WINTER'S TRAVEL AND SPORT IN NORTHERN INDIA. This Copy is No. Z, nf tlw First Edition. /WA^CiAjlt^JUi RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS: BEING THE NARRATIVE OF A WINTER'S TRAVEL AND SPORT IN NORTHERN INDIA MRS. ALAN GARDNER. ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS AND SKETCHES BY THE AUTHOR AND TWO DRAWINGS BY F. H. TOWNSEND. LONDON : CHATTO AND WINDUS, 1 895. All mollis Btterved. Richard Clay and Sons, Limited, london and bungay. DS 7 TO |fln bear Jfatber, TO WHOM THE LETTERS WERE WRITTEN, THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 1661504 PREFACE. This volume is an almost verbatim reprint of letters written hurriedly by the roadside. It contains neither guide-book descriptions, nor attempts at scenery word- painting, and is simply a plain and unvarnished account of our rough but very pleasant experience of Indian Camp Life. The narrative is, I fear, equally rugged, but both notes and sketches were at least taken on the spot, and I think would lose what realism they may possess, if polished up and elaborated at home. N. G. 4 Old Burlington Strket, W. June, 1895. CONTENTS. CHAPTER J. PAGE Eii route — Sports on board — " Dear old tunes " — Church at a canter — Music at sea — Bombay Harbour — Kurrachee — Government House — An Indian WMteley — An aristocratic butler — Santan's yaye d'a/mowr — Lahore — An Ali Baba coachman — " Sudden death" ........... 1 CHAPTER IT. Murree — Backsheesh and " Bahut achha Sahib " — Jibbing stage horses — A dangerous road — Domel — A queer village — A spider- haunted bungalow — Rampur en fete — Waiting for the Maharaja — Hindoo and English peasant lads : a contrast — The Forty Thieves — Baramula boatmen — Letters of (doubtful) recommen- dation— Cookery under difficulties — A lively night — A scratch crew — Srinagar — Married quarters — A race of amphibians — Bahar Shah — A big " Liberty " room — A papier-mache grand- father . . . . . . . . . .17 CHAPTER III. The Apple-tree Canal — The Dahl Lake — Luncheon at the Nasim Bagh — Shalimar Bagh — An "abode of love" — The Emperor Jehangir and Queen Nur Mahal — A word-picture by Moore — A sturdy beggar — The start for Islamabad — Floating tradesmen — The Noble Presence — A " man of the world " — In a dandy chair — "Where is Mahdoo the good boatman?" — Camping out — Stalking the barasingh — The Maharaja's preserve — Kashmir Valley — Bagging a bear — A dirty town — The Temple of the Sun — Kashmiri shikaris — Khadra the dandy — An unlucky coolie ........... 38 CHAPTER IV. At the foot of the pass — A bear and a blizzard — A perilous path — An eclipse of the moon — Novel effect — A Hindoo explanation — Eccentricities of an ayah's packing — A day's sport above Singpur — A colony of monkeys — Our first rope bridge — An artful dog — Kishtiwar — An idol's lullaby — The Tehsildar — A desolate missionary — A fight for a fowl — Chuprassie v. coolie — Lord Lytton on the native chicken ...... 67 CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. PAGE Camping on the roof — The humours of spear-grass — Native faith in the "sahib" — Missionaries and medicine — Field mice at Baler — A mantelpiece and a precipice — A miller's wife a la Drury Lane pantomime — The evil eye — A crazy bridge — The Chamba valleys — Laziness as a fine art — Looking for tahir — The advan- tages of roof-life — Starting for the Pass — A letter from the Maharaja of Chamba — Manjere . . . . . .91 CHAPTER VI. Chamba — The Maharaja's guest-house — The old English Residency — Through the bazaar — A visit to the Maharaja and his brother, Bhurie Singh — A Durbar Hall and a silver chair — Bound the Palace — The Ranee — " Dustoor " — Tennis with the Raja — A leopard hunt — A model town — Serenading a leopard — A real Indian dinner — Shooting gooral — The old palace — A grotesque escort — The Baja's aunt — The ayah as interpreter — Flights of fancy — Wasted eloquence . . . . . . .113 CHAPTER VII. Duck-shooting with the Maharaja — The "lone widower" — A happy valley — En route for Pathankot — " Hubble-bubble toil and trouble " — The baboo station master — An Indian " Joe Miller " — The baboo and the tiger — Lahore — The Fort — Jumma Musjid — Runjeet Singh's bedroom — The "Lion of the Punjab" — The armoury — Runjeet Singh's tomb — Pind-dadan-khan — The Tehsildar's English — Enterprising mosquitoes — The oorial — Down a salt-mine — A transformation scene — On the road to Kalar Kahar — Lost ! . . . . . . . .141 CHAPTER VIII. Kalar Kahar — A pretty bungalow — A lake adventure — Stalking the oorial — Halal — A Mahometan armoury — Santan and the ayah — Maira — A bargain in mutton — An oorial on " sentry go" — The "patient" camel — We reach Pail — A deluge in a hill tent — A native house — A plague of hornets — All hands to the "pumps" — A native village — The polite Lumbardar — The Indian washerman . , . . . . . . .160 CHAPTER IX. A Punjabi shikari — Mahomet's strategy — Nurpoor — The Salt Revenue officer — A salt neighbourhood — After the oorial — Loading the camels — A farcical comedy in three acts — The ayah's courage of despair — A " bobbery " beast — Lilla railway station — " Merry Christmas, sare " — Platelayer sahib — The fatted calf — A funny railway story of a mid-day pill — Lahore —The Maharaja of Kapurthala — Sir Dennis Fitzpatrick — The Lahore "week" — Polo — The Maharaja of Putiala's team — Our camel carriage — Hunting the boar — Coursing with cheetahs — Amritza — The Golden Temple — A native carpet factory — Delhi —The fort— The Pearl Mosque— The Jumma Musjid . .182 CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. I'AtiK Dholpur — Visit to the Maharaja — The Raja of Feridkot — Hospitality in the East — The Maharaja as a sportsman — Dholpur the Leicestershire of India — A day's shooting — A pig-sticking experience — The Maharaja's stable and kennels — The old palace and city — A tye-khana — Black buck — The Maharaja's new house — Argot of the " Pink 'mi " — The old fort — Agra jail — A model prison — The Secundra Bagh — The Taj — A dream that might become a nightmare — A dear little room — Jehangir's palace — Aligarh and its associations — A native dog-fancier — En route to Muttra — An antelope's sagacity — Duck's liver — A slight misunderstanding — After antelope — The black buck — The richest man in India ........ 207 CHAPTER XL The city of Muttra — Seth's palace — Life sacred to a Brahman — The troublesome monkeys — Pilgrims and their strange vows — The sanctity of Bindhaban — The sacred tanks of Govindhan — A Hindoo Venice — Deeg — The Maharaja of Bhurtpore — A group of palaces — Early Hindoo cum-Italian Renaissance-cum-Totten- ham Court Road — In search of chinkara — Baroda — Colonel Fraser, the Political Resident — The Residency — The Ulwar tragedy — Major Ram Chunder hanged — An Indian version of Henry II. and Thomas a Becket — The Maharaja Jey Singh — Animal duels — The elephant stables — A savage brute — Tackling a panther — In search of the sambhur — The Maharaja's mothers — Performing horses — The old palace — Curious old arms — Show and squalor .......... 229 CHAPTER XII. A panther ride — A visit to the Ranees — Suttee — Colonel Fraser's inspection tour — His camp — Neilghai — A panther — A pretty camp — Sketching a "rut" — Jey Singh's anxiety about an elephant — The rains — A demoralised camp — Hunting cheetahs and lynxes — Good-bye to the little Raja — En route for Jeypore — A Prime Minister en deshabille — A model town — Jeypore metal workers — The manufacture of " old " arms — Zafir — A simple old Brahman— A most superior person — Brahman hospitality — The palace — The public gardens — The museum — The old palaces at Amber — 'Arry on an elephant — Pig-sticking in excelsis .......... 250 CHAPTER XIII. At a nautch dance — The Nonconformist Conscience — An embarrass- ing native custom — The bag of rupees — Indian railway accommo- dation— Arrival at Rajghur — Groundbait for tigers^In an elephant camp — Decorated elephants A tiger drive — Hermiron Singh — The little Raja and his playfellows — Snake-charming and hypnotism — Charming the foxes — News of a panther — An amusing adventure — A sounder of wild boars — To Deoli in a dak ghari— The Raja of Boondi's horoscope — His political CONTENTS. economy theories — A fossil State — Arrival at Kotah — The town, the Residency, and the Maharaja's palace — Bagging an alligator — Oriental poetry and a contrast — A tragic story — A sambhur drive — Colonel Wyllie's camp —The Maharaja of Kotah . . 273 CHAPTER XIV. Shooting with the Maharaja — A curious shot — Boondi palace' — The Raja's own room — The Raja's camp — At Deoli — The ayah is robbed — A mongoose story — Spearing crocodiles — By "shigram" to Nusserabad — Chittore, the " invincible city" — The Tower of Victory — Oodeypore — Colonel Miles — The Residency — The Oodeypore princes — Descendants of the Sun — The present Maharaja — In the old palace — The armoury — The new palace — A lovely scene ......... 297 CHAPTER XV. Pig-sticking with the Maharaja — The clannishness of the Rajpoots — A story of an Oodeypore prince — Struggles for precedence — A visit to the jail — Afternoon tea with General Nixon — His daughter's native dresses — The Maharaja's farewell dinner to us — Salvationists in India — Ajmere — En route for Jodhpore — A station made out of an old tomb — Sir Pertab Singh — Jodhpore — Pig-sticking with Major Beatson — The Maharaja's zenana — The old palace — Some splendid jewels — A fetish — The Raja's silver bed — A Jodhpore nautch — Sons of the Moon — Pig-sticking with the Archduke of Austria — Calling back a train ........... 316 CHAPTER XV L Arrival at Baroda — With Colonel Biddulph at the Residency — The late Guicowar's crime — Baroda sights — A cosmopolitan style of architecture — Quaint effect — With Lord Harris at Bombay — A charming place — Homeward-bound — M. le Capitaine and the Creeks — The "Barndoor Polka" — The ship's engines break down — Arrival at Aden Colonial Britishers -Marseilles — Calais — And home ......... 330 ILLUSTRATIONS. Nora Gardner Frontispiece. PAGE Jungle Grass 1 Rampcr -'■'• The Maharaja's Houseboat 28 Boats at Baramula 30 Srinagar ' . . . 35 " The Bear was a Large Male " 54 Bear Shot in Kotah 55 A Coolie (57 "Brown Mountains Backed by Dazzling White Snow Peaks" . . 72 At Singpur T4 Singpur 78 Our First Rope-bridge 80 Kishtiwar Children 84 Our Camp at Singpur 92 Camp on the Roof 95 "The River Winds Through a Rocky Canon" 101 "We Find we have Chosen an Icy Cold Corner" 104 Al Fresco Cookery 107 At the Foot op the Padri Pass 108 "A Small Black Valley Whitened in Places with Snow" ... 110 Bhandul Ill A Quaint Old Wooden Bridge at Chamba 114 The Residency, Chamba 117 His Highness the Maharaja of Chamba 121 The Mian Sahib Bhurie Singh 125 ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE Head of Gooral or Himalayan Chamois 133 The Old Palace, Chamba 139 The Jumma Musjid, Lahore 149 Kalar Kahar 157 Some of our Camels 165 Going to the Well 179 "Ouu Camp is Near a Large Well" 180 Head of Oorial Shot at Ndrpoor 183 At Nurpoor 186 A Native Water-wheel 195 His Highness the Maharaja of Kaporthala 197 " We Went in State to the Races in a Great Camel Carriage." . 201 Their Highnesses the Maharaja of Putiala, the Maharaja of Kapurthala, and the Maharaja Rana of Dholpdr 209 Dholpur 211 Old Gate and Garden, Dholpur 213 Ancient Fort, Dholpur 215 Aligarh 220 A Camel Cart 222 Head of Black Buck 226 Head of Chinkara, or Ravine Deer 234 "The Panther With One Bound Sprang on the Horse's Shoulder" 241 Colonel Fraser's Camp 254 A Bullock Rut ■ 257 A State Elephant • 266 " Alan Raced after us, and the Boar, turning slightly as He Came Up, Received a Spear full behind his Shoulder." . . . 269 A Native Musician 273 "Just Beyond our Camp the Hills Open Out and Form a Wide Cultivated Valley" 284 Kotah 288 At Kotah 293 Colonel Wyllie's Camp -294 His Highness the Maharaja of Oodeypore 308 The Palace on Oodeypore Lake 311 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS CHAPTER I En route — Spurts on board — " Dear old tunes " — Church at a canter — Music at sea — Bombay Harbour — Kurrachee — Government House — An Indian Whiteley — An aristocratic butler — Santan's gage d'amour — Lahore — An Ali Baba coachman—" (Sudden death." We left Brindisi for Bom- bay by the P. and 0. mail steamer, our intention being not to land at Bombay, but td go on by steamer to Kurrachee, and thence to Kashmir, via Lahore and the Indus Valley railroad. The sea voyage will be a little longer, but we shall escape at least two clays' Indian railway travelling, which at this time of year is very lmt and dusty. If it is worse than the Italian railway journey to Brindisi. it must be bad indeed. .11" NO LIC ORASf RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. The Mediterranean is lovely, as it usually is towards the end of September ; calm and sunny, with hardly a breath of air, yet not too hot ; simply perfect weather to lounge in a deck-chair and— do nothing. AVe have not very many fellow-passengers, as it is early for globe-trotters and return Indiaus. There are two lots of girls with anxious mothers, taking them out, I cannot help thinking, as a last chance for husbands. They are frightfully energetic and tear about all day, getting up concerts, dances and all the other amusements without which life at sea would be so very pleasant. They are all tall, all thin, and all rather jaded, and they all sing and play. Unfortunately there are three pianos and a harmonium on board, and two or more of them are usually going cheerily one against another from morning- till night. There are two "grass" widows on board, several " grass" widowers, and the usual other unconsidered items. Tuesday, September 20th, 1892. — Most of us awoke this morning with a sea coming in at our ports, and, staggering on deck, found that a breeze had sprung up and that Ave were rolling and pitching merrily. This caused a good many gaps at breakfast, the grass widows and I being the only representatives of our sex. It had been arranged to have some "sports" this morning, but the "Honorary Secretary " was missing, and, on a careful search being made, was found lying on the floor of his cabin in a SPORTS " UXDER DIFFICULTIES. deplorable condition of collapse. As he had the lists in his pocket, and was lying on them, and, in answer to alter- nate entreaties and threats only implored " to be left to die in peace," the sports were put off till the afternoon, when we expected to be under the shelter of the land. Even then we rolled a bit, and the winner of a skipping race left with suspicious haste and the significant remark : "I am going to bed as <}uickly as I can." Towards evening it became quite smooth again, and after dinner a dance took place, although the thermometer registered about 100° F. The two maternal veterans brought their daughters up to time, whilst they themselves took it in turn to play, observ- ing, as a precautionary measure to disarm possible criticism, that they did not " approve " of modern dance music, but stuck to the " dear old tunes." We certainly had the venerable Mabel Valse thrice ; but we danced merrily to all hours. Varied by a coaling episode at Port Said, and the damp heat of the Red Sea, this was the fashion in which with a persistence worthy of a better cause we daily toiled at our amusements. Monday, September 26t/t. — We shall be at Aden to- night, and, I hope, soon out of this heat, which is quite awful. The captain says that August and September arc the hottest months in the Red Sea, and I have never ex- perienced more disagreeable heat, so damp that the decks at night look as though a heavy shower had just fallen. B 2 4 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. Church yesterday was suffocating, the temperature of the sea itself being 95° F. I think no one regretted, as they perhaps should, the absence of a clergyman, and that the captain therefore read us the abbreviated service. He took it at a hard canter. In the evening I attended the second saloon service, where an Irish missionary preached an excellent extempore sermon. Afterwards Lady M. A. and I found a draughty corner on the spar-deck, and really seemed to get a little air, till the Rome, homeward bound, passed us, when a rush was made to our retreat and all hope of further coolness and peace fled. A banjo has been added to mil' miseries ! People who sing and play in the Red Sea should have a padded chamber kept for them ! I am not sure that capital punishment would be too severe for some of the offenders. It was too late to see anything when we arrived at Aden, but by six o'clock on Tuesday morning every one was on deck, for the heat was awful, all port holes being closed • owing to the native boys who were swimming and diving on all sides, and to whom " mine " and " thine " are synonymous terms. The deck was crowded with varied specimens of Easterns : Arab, Somali, and Parsee, who brought ostrich feathers, African skins and horns, and a dozen other com- modities, and gave one little peace until they sold them. Close to us, standing out of the water, were the masts of a French steamer which had been run into and sunk there. A CONCERT AT SEA. and, by a curious coincidence, before we weighed anchor, the boat that did the mischief came into harbour. We were soon off again, and as we steamed away from land the wind freshened, and there was more motion than some of us quite liked. In the evening there was a concert, but our musical talent on board is not great, as it consists chiefly (if very young girls with untaught school-room voices, and elderly dames with the remains of what might, in prediistoric times, have been good. An Irish lady with a sweet voice and a delicious brogue was the one exception. Poor thing ! she suffered terribly from mal de mer, and had to run below between each song. Of course, the irony of Fate gave her the only two encores of the evening. A Parsee gentle- man sang " Queen of my Heart " with much feeling, but the boys rather spoilt the effect, as they persisted in treating the last line of each verse as a chorus. The phosphorescence in the water to-night was lovely ; the sea one blaze of light, dotted with innumerable sparks of fire wildly chasing each other to and fro. Our poet remarked that it resembled " golden moths entangled in a silver net." Wednesday. — A decided swell prevailed, and those who appeared at breakfast had an air of pardonable pride about them. I took refuge in chess, and I believe that it- was only racking my brain over a tough problem that 6 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. prevented me from joining the sufferers, several of whom lay about the deck, pictures of unmitigated woe. For the first day since we left, the pianos had a holiday, and we were even able to walk about, for " Sports " and deck cricket were at a standstill. Even the kodaks ceased from troubling, and the banjos were at rest, so an ill- wind blew some of us good. Sunday, October 2nd. — It is pouring with rain, and every one is wildly undoing rolls of umbrellas and water- proofs. By the time they are disinterred the rain is over, and the heat stifling. Alan says that with the exception of a few showers about Christmas time, this is the last rain we shall have until we return to Europe.1 At 2 p.m. we anchored in Bombav harbour. Even before the anchor was down, hundreds of coolies swarmed on board, and tore the luggage from meek, unoffending- people, screaming and shouting wildly in unknown tongues the while. Never in my life have I witnessed such a scene of confusion. The British-India boat by which we proceed to Kurrachee was already starting, and we had barely time to get ourselves and about a ton of luggage on board, the boxes positively having to be hauled up the ship's side as she slowly steamed her way out of harbour. Mr. Eustomjee, a very wealth}* Parsee merchant to whom we had an 1 Our experience, alas ! did not bear this out, hardly a week passing without rain. But then of course it was, as usual, an "exceptional season." IN BOMBA 7 HARBOUR. introduction, came off in his steam launch to meet us, and had it not been for his assistance I think we should have been left behind; some of our luggage was! Mr. Rustomjee has one of the finest houses in Bombay, at Malabar Point, and he very kindly tried to persuade us to stay with him for a few days. But we felt that we must get on to Kashmir before the winter sets in. Mr. Rustomjee's prin- cipal place of business is at Kurrachee, and is managed by two of his sons, who reside there, and he has promised to telegraph to them to meet us on arrival. Alan has already sent on a letter of introduction to Sir Charles Forbes's Kurrachee manager, and Lord Harris very kindly wrote to the Commissioner in Sindh, so that we shall be well taken care of. B.I.I.S. " Karagola" Monday, October 3rd. — This ir, a nice clean-looking, white painted little boat, that is to say little when compared with a P. and 0. liner, but very comfortable if she would not roll so horribly even in a perfectly smooth sea. We have re-named her the Caracola. She carries many native deck passengers, who sleep, eat, and live amidship, divided off from the poop by a canvas screen. They are inoffensive, as they never appear to be awake, but loll about all day, with their eyes closed, on bright-coloured cotton quilts. Government House, Tuesday, October Mh. — We arrived in Kurrachee harbour this afternoon, and were met by .Mr. 8 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. Hoare, and Mr. Rustoinjee's son, who very kindly asked us to be his guests ; but we had already accepted an invitation to stop with Mr* James, the Commissioner. The town of Kurrachee is six miles from the landing-place, and is divided from the sea by long mud flats. Directly Alan had passed his numerous guns through the Customs, we drove straight to Government House, which is charmingly situated in a large semi-tropical garden. What a comfort it was to get into a cool house and a bath ! All around the country is dried up and brown. The houses are scattered widely apart, and are dreary-looking, and the ground parched and cracked by the baking sun. We found a tennis-party in progress, but I was too tired and dusty to face it, and went to my room at once and had real tea, an unspeakable blessing after the mixture mi board ship, which one might lie pardoned for picturing as made in London arid carefully kept stewing during the voyage. After dinner we explored the garden, which has a beautiful green lawn, the only one in the town. Two bheesties (water-carriers), I am told, walk up and down all day watering it. The flowers and foliage are wonderful, and the cocoa-nut palms covered with fruit. The moon was nearly full, and almost bright enough to read by. It was too nice after the heat of the day. The house itself always keeps compara- tively cool, the living rooms, being, indeed, onlv the kernel aOVERX.VEXT HOUSE, KURRAGHEE. of the building, as round the outside runs a huge verandah, and inside again a very wide corridor, which opens with great arches into the rooms, all of which run right through, with doors communicating, so that you get a good draught. With the help of numerous punkahs vigorously pulled to and fro, it is not so bad so long as you sit still. Our rooms on the first floor had a beautiful view over the garden, but the long stone passages, and great open verandah, look rather creepy at night, neither did I care for the door and staircase leading from my room on to the large flat roof. My room has six doors, but it is far too hot to bear them shut, and they are only screened by reed curtains. The rooms themselves, sitting-room, bed-rooms, and two bath-rooms, are big enough to hide a regiment of sepoys, and, never being very brave at night, I came to the con- elusion that Indian life has its drawbacks. At six o'clock the next morning we were aroused and chota haziri (little breakfast), consisting of tea and toast and various fruits, brought in whilst I was dressing. By seven I was ready to drive round the town with Mr. James, and we visited the College, Public Gardens, &c. There is rather a good Zoo., and most of the tamer animals are not penned up but wander about in seeming liberty. There are several varieties of wild sheep, and queer goats with huge corkscrew horns. They have been trying for some time to get a wife for one of the latter, and last week they sold a tiger (which 10 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. I presume was too common), and got one, but alas ! she did not meet with Mr. Goat's approval, so he gently walked up to her and ran her through with his horns : a more summary method than either breach of promise or divorce. Thursday, October 6th.- — We went after breakfast to see Mr. Rustomjee's warehouses. It was a most interesting experience. They extend for a long way, with a tram-line running through them, and we went round on a tramcar. Mr. Eustomjee is the greatest merchant in the place and apparently the " universal provider." He supplies every- thing, from iron rails to marrons glacis, from the latest fashion in tea-gowns down to white mice. In one room thousands of various samples are laid out for the up-country shopkeepers' inspection, but there seem to be very few native productions. I admired some Oriental-looking cotton stuff sold for two annas a yard (about twopence), and lamented that such things could not be bought at such prices in England. It was rather a shock when Mr. Eustomjee quietly said : " Oh ! these all come from Manchester ! " The Army and Navy Stores have opened a branch here, but Mr. Rustomjee says it will probably not pay, as the English shopmen have to be fed, lodged, and paid high wages, whilst the native shopkeepers are content to earn a few pence a day, sleep on the ground and feed on a handful of rice or chupatties. Leaving the warehouses, we passed a yard stored with bales of old English newspapers that are SANTAN'S " GAGE D'AMOUR." 1 1 exported at five rupees a cwt., and sold here to the shops and natives. The business offices are on the first floor. It looked very odd to see rows of black clerks all dressed in white, writing in a nearly dark room. This morning an ayah was found for me, and she has been all day having what they call a " hierh old time" amongst my clothes, packing up and getting out warm clothes for Kashmir and the Hills. Alan has also got a Portuguese servant who is called indifferently "Butler" or "Boy," although he is gray-headed, and a scion of the noble Portuguese family of the Da Souzas. We always call him " Santan," his Christian name, for he really has been baptised, and is " same religion and gets drunk like Massa." Thursday. — We left Kurrachee by the 9.30 p.m. train for Lahore, nearly a two days' railway journey. A very nice carriage with two compartments and a bath room was reserved for us, and, as you carry your bedding about every- where in India, the servants soon made things comfortable for the night, A large party came to see us off, but nothing like the number who came to bid adieu to my woman and Alan's man, the latter being particularly popular. We think Santan gave Alan's cherished white umbrella as a gage d 'amour to some one, as it has vanished and he mourns much for its loss, although he cannot use it in the train, and won't want it shooting, but it makes his lists wrong and that vexes him. 12 RIFLE AXD SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. The next day was fearfully hot and dusty. Luckily we had been advised to bring two huge blocks of ice with us, and stood them in the middle of the carriage in Alan's indiarubber bath. Round this we sat and cooled our hands as you would warm them by the fire. Alan's costume is a silk pyjama suit and a huge sun helmet. The scenery from the railway is uninteresting, except when crossing the Indus at Sakhar. The river is very broad and rapid here, and bridged by enormous steel girders. In midstream, on white limestone rock, stands the fortified town of Bakhar, and the line, using this as a stepping-stone, winds through the picturesquely situated old fortress, and then on to the large native town of Rohri, on the opposite bank. Lahore, Saturday, October 8th. — We arrived here about 3 i-.M. A friend of Mr. Rustomjee's met us at the station, with carts to take our numerous boxes to the hotel where rooms were engaged for us. Our present intention is to go straight to Kashmir, and thence march shooting across the mountains to the Hill State of Chamba, returning rid Pathankot and Lahore to the Salt Ranges on the Jhelum, where Alan hopes to have some oorial (wild sheep) shooting. About the beginning of January we think of gradually working our way south again, visiting the principal States <>i Rajputana on our way back to Bombay. We shall pass through very varied degrees of cold and heat, from the frost A LI BABA ON THE BOX. 13 and snow of tlie Himalaya Mountains to the semi-tropical climate of Bombay, and therefore had to bring a considerable variety of clothing. We have also provided ourselves with saddles, Edgington's hill tents, and three eases of tinned provisions, soups, Swiss preserved milk, jams, &c. Alan's battery consists of two 450 express rifles, one 360 express rifle for antelope, one 12 bore gun, and one pea rifle. Add to all this, fishing rods, cartridge boxes, and the innumerable packages of odds and ends without which no self-respecting- servant will travel, and you make up a total which demands two bullock-waggons to convey it from the station. Thank goodness ! we shall leave a great part of this impedimenta at Lahore, only taking on with us what is absolutely necessary for the journey to the hills. Tents, camp furniture, kitchen things, &e., which will be required when marching, we intend to buy at Kashmir. In the evening we took a voiture-de-place, called, I believe, a " first-class ghari," and went for a drive round the cantonments. There are many of these vehicles about, of three classes to suit all purses. They would rather surprise a London cabman. Imagine an old-fashioned, but eminently respectable-looking, barouche-like carriage, hung very high, lined with red morocco, and attended by two native servants (coachuran and footman), dressed like Ali Baba in a panto- mime ! All this magnificence can be hired for little more than a shilling an hour, or five shillings by the day. 14 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. We were very much disappointed with the buildings of the official capital of the Punjab. The English offices, museum., court-houses, &c, built of colourless, dusty-looking brick, are caricatures of Indian architecture, intensifying its few vulgarities and missing altogether its simplicity and its repose. If a jerry builder in the London suburbs were given pictures of the Taj and Jumna Musjid, and told to run up Board schools, town halls, &c, "in this style," he would probably heap together a similar meaningless jumble of minarets, domes, and chattels, with an occasional huge plate glass window thrown in by way of a change. We have reserved the native city, fort, and other sights, until we return in December, when it will be cooler. It is very hot now, and towards night a sort of damp, smoky-smelling mist arises, that recalls the smouldering bonfires and burnt-out fireworks of an English 5th of November. On our way we called for our letters at Government House, which is a fine building, situated in the midst of a pretty garden. The nucleus was the dome of an old shrine now forming the dining-room, but large additions have been made by Sir L. Lawrence and his successors. Sir Dennis Fitzpatriek, the present Governor, is now away, but we found a letter from him asking us to pay him a visit when he returns in December. He also very kindly gave us a letter of introduction to the Maharaja of the Chamba State, where we propose going after Kashmir. A DAK TO KASHMIR. 15 Monday, October 10th. — We left Lahore by the 3.30 p.m. express for Rawal Pindi, dined and slept in the train, and were awakened at four a.m. o'clock by the ayah, who said we had nearly arrived. It was hardly light and very raw and chilly. A friend of Mr. Rustomjee's was waiting for us with a tonga and two ekkas. The former is a two-wheeled canvas-hooded trap, some- thing like a small Cape cart. It is drawn by two horses, one in a pair of shafts, and the other running half loose beside him. It is to be our conveyance to Kashmir, relays of horses (called in India " dak,") being posted along the road. An " ekka" looks like a small garden tent on two wheels, pulled by a pony between shafts supported by a bar over his back. It is the common pony carriage used by the natives all over India, and, though springless, is of very light draught and carries an extraordinarily heavy load. They are cpiite the funniest looking things I ever saw, the shafts rise at least a foot over the pony's back, and are about four feet apart. They run right through the cart, and come out joined together in a point behind. It looked as if one wretched little piebald pony must be hoisted bodily up in the air. but the ayah assured me "they are so safe, even if the horse on his hind legs go, it cannot tumble." We drove straight to the hotel and had breakfast. The ekka men promptly seized the opportunity to go to theirs. and did not turn up again till nearly nine o'clock. We 16 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. started for Murree directly they returned, taking Santan with us on the tonga, and sending my ayah and two ekka loads of lug-sage by the lower and direct road to Kashmir. We intend to sleep to-night at Murree, the chief hill station of the Punjab. The road from Rawal Pindi at first runs nearly straight across a fairly flat country, and looks as if it were going right through the bis mountain, 7,500 feet high, on which Murree is situated. After about an hour's drive, however, we reach the lower spurs of the hills, and from Trit, where there is a dak bungalow, the real ascent commences. These dak bungalows are an excellent institution kept up by the .State, imperial or native, for the use of travellers, and you find them about fifteen to twenty miles apart on all the more important roads. The majority have only a bare bedstead, table and chair, but a few are more comfortably furnished. You bring your own bedding, as indeed you do in the train, and everywhere else in India. For food you can nearly always rely upon a fowl being caught, killed and cooked for you. This, the staple dish of a "Sahib" in India, goes by the name of " sudden death." CHAPTER II. Murree — Backsheesh and " Bahut achha Sahib" — Jibbing stage horses — A dangerous road — Domel — A queer village — A spider-haunted bungalow — Rampur en fete — Waiting for the Maharaja — Hindoo and English peasant lads : a contrast — The Forty Thieves — Baramula boatmen — Letters of (doubtful) recommendation — Cookery under difficulties -A lively night — A scratch crew — Srinagar — Married quarters — A race of amphibians — Bahar Shah — A big "Liberty" room — A papier-mache grandfather. After much jolting and many changes of horses, we reached Murree late in the afternoon. The situation is fine, and the villas or bungalows are scattered on and around the summits of the hills, which in parts are thickly wooded with huge oaks and pines. What a blessing it was to see a fir tree again ! As we sat round our hotel fire to-night, I quite realised the feelings of a dusty perspiring memsahib, flying from the hot season of the plains. There was a bad epidemic of cholera this summer in Kashmir, principally at Srinagar (the capital), and along the road we are now going ; and nearly three thousand natives died. We now hear of a sudden outbreak having occurred about a fortnight ago in this station, five English officers and a lady dying in one day. Apparently it passed away as 18 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. quickly as it came, for there have been no cases since. It seems to be a disputed point whether it was really cholera contracted from drinking contaminated milk or poisoning from unwholesome tinned provisions. Anyhow we con- gratulate ourselves on having brought our preserved milk and tinned stores fresh from England. Wednesday, October 12th. — We started at ten this morning in a fresh tonga which is to take us all the way to Baramula. There is a good road so far, but no farther, and the journey thence to Srinagar is by water. Another fellow-countryman of Mr. Rustomjee made all our arrange- ments, and indeed our kind Bombay friend appears to have laid a dak of Parsees for us all over the Punjab. At first we drive down-hill, until the bank of the river Jhelum is reached, which we then follow. At Kohala, where we had luncheon, there is a good bungalow near the little native village. Here we overtook our ekkas with the ayah and luoo-age. They ought to have been miles ahead of this, and unless they go quicker we shall have to wait for them at Baramula. AVe tried to bribe the drivers to push on with promises of backsheesh, but " Bahut achha, Sahib," " All right, Sir," is all we can get from them. The weather had been threatening all the morning, and whilst we were at luncheon a violent thunderstorm came on, and we had to wait a couple of hours before the heavy rain ceased. We then crossed the river by a suspension bridge, ON THE EDGE OF A PRECIPICE. 1 9 and followed a picturesque road cut out of the side of the hill, and in places passing through short tunnels running- through the projecting cliffs. At five o'clock we reach Dulai where we meant to stay the night, but find the bungalow has a leaky roof and is flooded with rain, so we push on to Domel. From this point I began to hate the Maharaja. He is now on the road dowTn from Kashmir to his winter abode, and all the best bungalows, horses, drivers, &c, are reserved for him. Besides this, everybody is on the way back, as leave is up on the 15th, for the Indian army ; so the poor little stage horses are worked to death, many of them going their stage uphill, on dreadful roads, five or six times a day. This is the only excuse for their being such confirmed jibbers. For a great part of the way the syce (groom) has to run in front, pulling them along by a rope tied round the foreleg. Frequently this was the only means of starting or getting them along at all. They told us this was a strange stage to our pair, and not the one they were used to, hence they resented it with peculiar bitterness. At the next stage we had more vigorous horses, too much so in fact, at first. They reared straight on end directly their heads were let go, danced along the edge of the precipice on their hind legs, and, failing to break the pole by several violent bucks and bounds, started at a furious gallop down the hill. The next ascent, however, C 2 20 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. pulled them up, and then the old jibbing game recom- menced. The river here roared hundreds of feet below us. It was a dark night, but occasional flashes of lightning gave us a glimpse of the water at the foot of a descent so sheer that the torrent seemed absolutely to rush under our feet. To- day's rain has washed away in many places the low wall at the side of the road, and, naturally, our horses selected those spots to back and jib. We were not sorry to reach Domel, where two Englishmen at dinner in the verandah of the bungalow looked cheery and home like. The road to the bungalow leads through the native village, and we had to pull up to a walk and frequently halt, to avoid driving over the numerous family groups, squatted eating or sleeping on the highway. No carriage except the post is supposed to travel after dark, and the metalled road being the cleanest and driest spot handy, the villagers bring out their beds, light their fires and thoroughly make themselves at home on the public road. Their houses on either side appear to be only used as store- rooms, for they never seem to live inside. Lighted up by numerous fires, it was a very pictur- esque scene : burnished cooking-pots, brightly-clad women, turbaned men, huge black buffaloes and curiously shaped carts, all jumbled pell-mell together. There was a decided Irish touch about it all, the buffalo being the Hindoo sub- A.Y EKKA DRIVERS DIPLOMACY. 21 stitute for Paddy's pig, aud apparently living on the same familiar terms with his master. Thursday, October Vith.—l think if I had not slept on that bedstead it would have gone for a walk by itself! It is explained to me that the rain drives "things" indoors. It certainly did. There is a tiny English shop here, and I am laying in tins of Keating's powder. The view from the bungalow is beautiful. Two rivers meet below, one quite blue, the other brown, and the moun- tains tower above us on every side. We decided to wait here until our ekkas arrived. The first came at 12.30, the other at 3. The difference explained itself when we dis- covered that whilst the winner had only some rugs and a small portmanteau, the last had all the stores, my boxes and the ayah. The successful driver was much disgusted when we divided the weights more equally, and wept bitterly over his piebald pony, which he swore would be killed. We started again soon after, but, leaving so late, it was nearly dark before we had gone half-way. The recent heavy rain had washed away the road in places, and once the tonga was obliged to descend by an extempore track through the river, whilst we walked round. After dark, of course, we came to the very worst part of the road, or at least what appeared to us to be so, and, as usual, the horses seized the occasion to commence jibbing. It was late before we reached Hutti. The bungalow is 22 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. some distance from the road, and approached by a rocky footpath, up which we stumbled, lighted in fitful fashion by pine torches. The rooms were small and dirty, and tenanted by some of the very largest hairy-legged spiders I have ever seen. They looked like tarantulas, but the servants assured us they were harmless. Friday, October 14///. — We started about nine this morning, and drove through wild mountainous scenery, the Jhelum valley in places contracting into narrow gorges, whilst the road is scooped and tunnelled out of the cliffs. Uri, the town of a Nawab tributary to Kashmir, soon comes in sight, but the road has to make a detour of three or four miles before reaching it. An old castle crowns the summit, and round the base were clustered the Maharaja's advance guard and camp. At Rampur we stopped for luncheon and found the place in a great state of excitement, the Maharaja being shortly expected. Rampur is in a most beautiful situation between the rapids of the river and huge gray crags and precipices, whose tops, massed with dark blue-green firs, shade downwards into a forest of trees of every tint, from golden brown to bright scarlet ; indeed, all along the road the autumnal foliage is lovely. Above us is a deep blue sky, and purple mountains, streaked with snow, shut in the distance on every side. I cannot imagine anything more excmisite. The loyal inhabitants had attempted to gild refined AT RAMPUR. 23 HINDOO AND ENGLISH PEASANT LADS : A CONTRAST. 25 gold by planting on either side of the road little coloured cotton flags about the size of a pocket-handkerchief. These decorations, we learn, are part of the stock-in-trade of the State, and will be moved bodily to the next place of recep- tion, whilst the Maharaja rests for the night, As an extra mark of respect, the mountain road for many miles had been carefully swept ; except of course in the places where it was washed away. The Nawab of Uri and his attendants were galloping about on little fat long-tailed ponies, and on either side of the road numerous ekkas, drawn up and crowded with spectators, awaited the show. Two little boys, sons of the Nawab, dressed in bright-coloured velvet tunics beautifully embroidered with gold, were seated near us, and a little incident strikingly exemplified the easy self-possession and seeming independence of bearing which are so curiously blended with abject servility in the Hindoo. Seated on the ground, close to the Nawab's sons, and carrying on with them on apparently equal terms an animated and laughing conversation, were two half-naked little peasant boys, the children of some coolie or labourer. One could not help thinking how ill at ease an English country lad would have been under similar conditions ; of his short churlish answers and painful shyness, mingled with rugged independence scarcely distinguishable from boorishness. Yet in India etiquette is perhaps more strictly observed, and the grada- 26 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. tions of rank more rigidly marked, than in any other country of the world. Very likely this accounts for it. The position of different classes is so clearly fixed and accepted that no feeling of social degradation can exist. Self-assumption is useless ; the peasant converses with his lord with much of the well-bred familiarity of a courtier chatting to his king, and there is none of that half-defined feeling of shame and grudging envy which probably pro- duces the " I'm just as good as you " manner of the English and American lower classes. Presently the Maharaja arrived at a gallop in a funny little red landau, very like Tom Thumb's at Madame Tussaud's. He was sleeping peacefully, and followed by a straggling escort on small ponies. Their appearance sug- gested the " Forty Thieves," and, if half that we are told is true, they don't belie it. At the next change there were no horses at all. Ours distinctly refused to go beyond their usual stage, and behaved like fiends, turning sharp round, backing into the cliffs, then going a few yards at a wild gallop, and finally running over the naked foot of a syce who was attempting to lead them. The poor man was dreadfully cut, but he was very plucky, and in a few minutes got up in front again and we struggled anew to get on. After this the horses had it much their own way, and 1 was very glad when we found fresh ones at the next stage. EQUINE ECCENTRICITY. 27 Alan wanted the syce to come on with us to Baramula and be attended by the doctor, but he preferred to return to his own home, and a few rupees made him apparently quite happy. Our new horses behaved in a novel and somewhat startling manner. When the off one got bored he sat down on his hind legs, like the trained circus-horse when the band plays " Home, sweet Home," and the near one, turning round his head, looked at him admiringly. This happened every half-mile or so, and it was more by good luck than judgment that we arrived that night at all. My only wonder is that the poor little beasts get on as well as they do. They are only about thirteen hands high, and so thin, their backbone looks as if it would cut the reins, it is so sharp. Besides some luggage and guns, there were Alan and I, the driver, Alan's servant, and the groom ; and we were considered quite a light load- — all the tongas we met had much more. We got to Baramula about 5 p.m., just as a thunder- storm broke, which lasted nearly all night. It was bitterly cold, and the bungalow was only a two-roomed wooden shanty, the old bungalow having been entirely destroyed by an earthquake which, a few years ago, wrecked the town. To-morrow we go on by boat. Saturday, October lbth. — Since early morning the house has been surrounded by a shouting crowd of boatmen, each RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. wishing us to take his boat ; and whenever you look out they thrust a packet of letters of recommendation into your hand. As they cannot read English, many of the characters they hand you with so much modest pride are the reverse of flattering. We ended by taking a man whose chief merit seems to be that his brother is the captain of the Maha- raja's boat (now moored here), and that everything we may want is to be borrowed from the Raja. On board his own THE MAHARAJA 3 HOUSEBOAT. boat are temptingly laid out two cups, a jug, ami a few plates and dishes ; but when Santan, wdio has been sent to explore the cooking boat, comes back, he reports there is nothing in it except a fireplace. Rather crest-fallen, our man goes away to interview his In-other, returns proudly in half-amhour with a frying pan, and is hurt and surprised that we do not consider that our cooking for two days can be perfectly well done in that. After some delay and much LOOTING THE RAJA'S BOAT. 29 groaning, a kettle is added, and, feeling they have done a hard day's work, the two brothers squat down on the bank and look at ns. We can't help thinking that the Eaja's captain has played ns false, and return to the bungalow saying we shall hire another boat. In the afternoon, whilst Alan was out shooting, the two came up at the head of a band of coolies, bearing trium- phantly one dish, two pans, two spoons, and a stewing-pot, and they all sit down on the ground around me, and insist on my inspecting the reinforcement of their batterie de cuisine. They have evidently looted the Raja's boat to the last straw, and explain that although there are " many more beautiful things " they have all been lent to other Sahibs on the river. I have said it will do and they walk their men off again. I have a horrid suspicion that they are only borrowed to show me, and with no intention of putting them on our boat. It was past three o'clock when our ekkas arrived. At first I did not recognise them, for our familiar piebald was gone, and a black pony had taken his place. It appeared that his indignant owner had removed him from the road, and replaced him with this animal. By five we are all on board and fairly off, when Santan comes to tell me sorrowfully that the cooking utensils I had passed "are all holes." As a housekeeper 1 led I have lost his good opinion for ever ; still 1 can't help 30 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. thinking that he has accepted a bribe from another boatman and wishes to make us employ him. All the boats are the same, long broadish punts with square ends sloping slightly upwards. They are undecked, but, amidship, a few poles and sticks, tied together and roofed with reeds, form a sort of hut or cabin. The sides are closed in with reed mats made to roll up when wanted. Everything is very rough, and there is BOATS AT IlARAMl'LA. no attempt at varnish or paint. We dine at one end. and sleep at the other. There is just room for two little camp beds side by side. After the sun went down it was bitterly cold. But this journey is generally made in summer, when you are glad to sleep out of doors. At half-past nine we turn in. I have piled all my clothes on the bed. Sunday, October 16th. — We had rather a lively night. A SCRATCH CREW. 31 Our boat is followed by the cooking boat with our servants on board, and their crew sang most of the night. There were also many rats, who evidently con- sidered us intruders, and once I awoke with a mouse under my pillow. Several times, the man rowing forward put his head over the reed screen to tell us when places of interest were being passed. Early this morning we went through the Woolar lake. There are a fair number of wild-fowl about, and at daybreak Alan went oft' in a small canoe, and returned about nine with a lot of teal and wild-duck. The scenery is very pretty, with snow mountains in the distance, but parts of the river and canal are so shallow that the men are frequently obliged to wade and push the boat along. Occasionally we go aground. We have discovered that the crew of seven we bargained for consists of four men, a woman, and two little boys just able to toddle. The captain assures us it is all right, and brings out a copy of the rules which say " women and boys over twelve years old are to count as able-bodied seamen." However, he has since produced another man and boy, for whom an increased wage i;-, demanded, and sits down to argue it out. These boatmen seem to be a cheery good-tempered race, with an endless flow of conversation. My not understanding or speaking a word of Hindustani, or they 32 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. of English, does not interfere with this at all. They take the greatest interest in all we do, and if I begin to paint, or produce a book with pictures, or even to make tea, the whole crew leave work and crowd around to receive explanations. Alan's maps puzzled all of them a good deal, especially the captain, who was so fascinated that he has planted himself at Alan's side and every few minutes inquires where wo are. By the time he has mastered this we have gone on a mile or so, and it all has to be begun again, which is a little trying. Kunning aground is the only thing that takes him off. He tells Alan long tales of the places 1 am to see, and has also confided to him that he means us to employ him all the winter. We really had not the heart to undeceive him. At times the other boat is pulled up alongside so that their crew may join in the conversation. Once Alan, in an idle moment, began to burn patterns with a magnifying glass on the wooden deck. This arouses such enthusiasm that the whole crew stand round in breathless interest, the captain watching with conscious pride, which glides into a gentle annoyance when he finds that it won't rub out. However, we have drifted firmly aground once more, and, by the time we are off, he is all smiles again. Santan now comes on board to remark in a matter- A SHIKARI AXD HIS WORK. 33 of- fact tone that he has dropped one of our spoons in the river. As we have only two, this means taking it in turns for our soup, and our dinner to-night is quite a feast — mutton-broth, teal, wild-duck, Irish-stew, and a sweet omelette. At eight I go to lied, not before Santan has appeared again. This time it is a tumbler. He seems to think it so much a matter of course that things should fall over- board, that I feel it would be ungenerous to reproach him. My forbearance is rewarded by finding it is " only one of tlie Raja's," and not from our precious luncheon basket. Monday, October 17. — Arrived at Srinagar about 5 a.m. After breakfast, Alan went to see Colonel Prideaux, the Resident, to whom the Viceroy had given us a letter of introduction. He found Colonel Prideaux was leaving that day on his way south to join the Maharaja, but was introduced to Colonel Chamberlain, the Military Secretary, who very kindly recommended a first-rate Kashmiri shikari (hunter), Rahman by name. The head shikari has the entire organization and management <>f a party when marching in the hills. Upon him depends one's comfort in camp as well as all prospect of sport. He is a combination of major-domo and courier, and, in addition, commandant of the twenty-five or thirty coolies who carry the baggage. It is therefore of the greatesl importance to obtain a really good man. i) 34 RIFLE AND Sl'EAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. There are do hotels in Srinagar. but a few bungalows where visitors who do not care to camp out can stop. They gave us one of a row of funny little cottages on the bank of the river, built by the State for married visitors only. Ours contains two whitewashed bedrooms and dressing-rooms, furnished with a table and chair : that is all. Of course, people do not take the week's journey up here only to stay two days, but generally come for the summer, and with a little furniture and a few rugs and curtains which can be bought in the bazaar for two or three rupees, it is easy to make oneself fairly comfortable in this lovely climate We leave to-morrow, so our household arrangements are very primitive. Two sheets have been spread side by side, on which all our clothes arc piled. Occasionally m)r dresses are found on Alan's heap, then I retire .and leave the ayah to explain matters, but seldom to his satisfaction. It is a great saving in house room that the servants never take off their clothes, and sleep in the verandah, or outside your door. After luncheon we took a boat to the town, about half an hour's row lower down the river. The houses of wood and sun-dried brick are built on the water's edge, and seemed mixed up and crowded together. Here and there, wide flights of stone steps lead down to the river. On these most of the inhabitants appear to live, some in A RACE OF AMPHIBIANS. 35 the water, some in boats, others on the steps half-in and half-out of the river — a race of amphibians. Many of the wooden houses are carved, but there is an utter absence of colour. All is brown except an occasional gold or silver dome of some temple. The Maharaja has a bouse near the European quarter, an ugly bare building that looks like the grand-stand of a racecourse, but T believe he usually lives in an old palace in the town. Several of the shops are inscribed "Shawl Merchant and Banker," which seems an odd combination. "We were advised to go to one Bahnr Shah. To reach him one had to go up steps into a little yard surrounded by open sheds, where men sat embroidering rugs; then through 36 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. rickety arches, and up little corkscrew nights of stairs ■of the roughest description — when, quite suddenly, we turned into a large room hung with curtains, carpets, &c, like a big ;' Liberty." Some of the things were quite lovely, and we bought recklessly. They make a beautiful hand-spun cloth called " Pushmeena," very soft, like a Rampur chuddar shawl. It fetches a good price. On the other hand, the common native home-spun called " puttoo " is ridiculously cheap, yet makes quite charming •country suits and dresses. The ordinary price for a man's suit of clothes, made to order, is 4^ rupees (about five shillings and eightpence). I have seen " puttoo " before in London shops, but need not say that it was sold at much the same price as English home-spuns. There were many white felt rugs and serge curtains very prettily embroidered with coloured silks in Eastern designs, and sold at very moderate prices. And on every side were piles of gold brocades, and beautiful Kashmir shawls worth thousands of rupees. In the midst of all this splendour, Bahar Shah conjured up from some- where most prosaic articles, such as camp-beds, worsted stockings, tea, sugar, and the many little necessaries of camp life. When at last we came out, we found our boat surrounded by sellers of papier-mache, silver and worked ■copper goods, shoemakers, and many others, each with A PAPIER-MACHE GRANDFATHER. 37 his wares around him. One, more enterprising than the others, had got into our boat, and talked to us in queer English all the way home. He was a papier-mache manufacturer, and told us his grandfather was " made of papier-mache." He meant, of course, his business. We bought a few things, and he was most anxious to enamel a crest or monogram on them, and very sceptical when Alan said he had none with him. " But surely the Sahib has it carved on him somewhere " — he meant tattooed. CHAPTER III. The Apple-tree Canal — The Dhal Lake — Luncheon at the Nasim Bagh — Shalimar Bagh — An " abode of love " — The Emperor Jehangir and Queen Nur Mahal — A word-picture by Moore — A sturdy beggar — The start for Islamabad — Floating tradesmen — The Noble Presence — A " man of the world " — In a dandy chair — " Where is Mahdoo the good boatman ? " — Camping out — Stalking the barasingh — The Maharaja's preserve — Kashmir Valley — Bagging a bear — A dirty town — The Temple of the Sun — Kashmiri shikaris — Khadra the dandy — An unlucky coolie. Wednesday, <>rt<>bcr 19///. — In front of our cottage is ;i high narrow bank, built to keep the river within bounds in flood time. From early dawn this morning. ;i long row of natives have squatted on the top with their knees up to their chins, looking like a line of crows on a telegraph wire. They never stop shouting the excellence of their wares, and offer us everything, from cart-ropes to watch-springs. Each man carries a book of letters of recommendation, which he thrusts into your hand at every opportunity. They ask four times as much as they mean to take, but apparently set more store on the wording of the "chit" (letter), which they beg from you to add to their book. It is their only form of advertisement. After breakfast we started for the Dhal Lake, rowing THE DUAL LAKE. 3 Srinagar till he comes.' ' Then, determined to go one higher than Lassoo, he shook hands cordially. Even after he had gone, his smile, like that of Alice's Cheshire cat. seemed to remain. 48 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. It was rather a tedious march through rice fields. Once I vacated my exalted position rather hastily, one of my coolies falling down. The chuprassie, gorgeously arrayed, walked the whole way in front of my dandy. He wears a white turban and white quilted overcoat lined with fur, a scarlet underdress, gold waistcoat, bright green puttis (gaiters), and a long sword, but rather destroys the effect by carrying a huge Sairey Gamp umbrella. I am borne on my litter, sitting cross-legged on a bright blue rug, with a white sunshade over my head, and feel that I look like some Hindoo idol being trotted round at a festival. At 2 p.m. we arrived at our camping ground, just above a little village under the hill, and we soon get our tents pitched. About five a message came. The ayah had broken down and the dandy lias to lie sent back for her, much to the coolies' disgust. Since our arrival they have never moved, and sit on the ground wrapped in rugs, with only their heads out. They are only stirred to activity by the chuprassie prodding them with his umbrella. Half- an-hour later Alan's keys are handed to him, a token of Santan's defeat, and it is dark before he and the ayah arrive, very weary and footsore. However, it is not long before they are all singing and cooking round a fire. The poor chuprassie is of a higher caste, so cannot eat with the others, and has a fire of his own. It gave me cpiite STALKING BARASINGH. 49 a shock to see his beautiful coat and sword hung on a tree, whilst he cooked his lonely little dinner. October 2ith. — Alan started up the hill at four this morning — pitch dark and very cold. He returned to lun- cheon, and had only seen one small stag of about eight points, which they could just make out with the telescope, feeding on the opposite hill side. In the evening he went out again, but without success. The hangal, or Kashmir stag, although larger, is identi- cally the same species as the Scotch red deer. The shikaris generally speak of it as " barasingh " or " twelve-horns " from the number of the points, although they have been so shot down that a " royal " is now seldom met with. Fortu- nately, game laws have lately been put in force, or they would soon have become as extinct as the dodo. Hinds, as well as stags, used to be killed in and out <>i' season, and during the winter numbers of them were fre- quently mobbed to death in the snow by the villagers. Some excellent regulations have now been made, forbidding the hinds to be shot at all, and establishing a close time for stags. A still better law takes away the chief incentive to their massacre in the winter time, by rendering the sale of horns and skins illegal. Alan tried to impress upon Rahman that if game became extinct it would not be long before the shikari followed suit, and with him would disappear the numerous train of E 50 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. followers who now fatten on the sahibs' gold. The " man of the world" perfectly agreed with this, and pointed the moral with a little Hindustani fable bearing a striking resemblance to " killing the goose with the golden eggs." There is a charm in stalking the wild animal, when he is wild, which is absent in a Scotch deer forest. When you do see him (alas! not too frequently), he is your own. if you can get him. The wind can never be wrong if a stalk is possible, and there is no gillie to observe that you will drive the beast on to a neighbour's forest. Still, for stalking as an art, Scotland is far superior. In Kashmir it is very rarely you can see and circumvent the stag on ground which renders a scientific stalk possible. He lives in a. forest, not only by name hut in reality,- — an endless wilder- ness of huge pines. His only appearance is at daybreak and dusk, when lie comes out to feed; and almost the only chance of getting a shot is by lying in ambush near to his favourite haunts. With patience and luck this may suc- ceed, but it can hardly lie called real sport. When the stags are roaring, it is better fun. This sounds rather unsportsmanlike, but it is not so in practice. The extent of ground is so vast, and the stags so few in number, that even when one is heard bellowing in the miles of fir forest which stretch along the hill sides, to find him is like searching for a needle in a bottle of hay. And although they are AFTER THE BLACK HEAR. 51 on the look-out for hinds, and much bolder at this season, still it requires very careful walking up wind, and a quick ear and eye, to get a shot. Unfortunately for us, this has been an early summer and autumn, and the stags have almost ceased to roar. It was chilly enough to-night to make a large wood fire very pleasant. Indeed our Hindustani servants, Santan and the avail, evidently considered the climate Arctic. Poor things, they little know what is before them! Santan, on the strength of his Portuguese blood, affects the European, and pretends that he rather likes cold, but the ayah has no false pride and passes all her time crouched by the fire. At night 1 believe she sleeps on the embers, for in the morning when she comes into my little tent to awake me, her flowing garments are spotted with burns and chars, and positively reek of smoke and wood-ashes. Alan started at 2 a.m. for the [Maharaja's preserve, about ten miles across the valley on the opposite hills. He says, "It was pitch dark, but, with a lantern to guide us. we pushed along the track at a good pace, my pony having to jog to keep up with the shikari's long strides. In about two hours we reached the foot of the range of hills, where black bear and barasingh are said to be. It was still dark. but a glimmer of dawn showed behind the eastern mountains, so I sent hack the pony, and commenced the E 2 52 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. ascent on foot. Rahman, who had never been allowed to come here before, was full of expectation, and declared that bears were as plentiful as sheep. And sure enough, when we were about half-way up, we could just make out a smallish black object scuttling through the rocky ground about a couple of hundred yards above us. It was still barely light enough to see one's foresight, and, the bear being a small one, I would not fire, and risk losing mv chance at a barasinek. At last we reached the top, just as the first ray of sun burst over the mountains behind us. The view was splendid. At our feet lay stretched the lovely Kashmir valley bounded on the left by the snow-clad Pir Punjab A slender twisting silver wire marked the river Jhelum, and in the far distance, the Takkt-i-Sulinian mountain, which towers above the city of Srinagar, lcoked like a small mole-hill on the plain. But Rahman and Khaira had not come Tip here to admire the view, and they ipiickly set to work, scanning through a glass each likely corrie and glen. From the saddle-back we were on, one could see for miles along both sides of the low hills, but although we waited nearly an hour, not even a black bear came in sight. "The sun was now well up, and we continued our way along the hill-top. There were several little wooded nullahs which at intervals deeply furrowed the sides of the mountain, and ran down into the thick black A SWAP SHOT. 53 forest below. As we were passing one of them, Rahman suddenly stopped, and, touching me on the shoulder, whispered that he heard the grass being torn up by some animal concealed in the bushes. Running to a projecting rock, which commanded both sides of the ravine, I signalled to Rahman to roll down a stone. Almost before he had done so an enormous black bear cantered noiselessly out of the nullah, lower down on the opposite side, and lolloped leisurely away through the high grass. He was about a hundred and fifty yards off, going straight from us, and 1 had just a moment for a snap shot at his hind quarters before he was hidden by the bushes. I had not even time to align the sights, and hardly expected to hit. To my great delight, the thud of the bullet and ' ough-ough ' of the bear, proved that the former had found its billet. "There was an open space in front of the thick jungle he was evidently making for, and we ran along the hill-side, hoping to cut him off. If he reached the forest, even wounded as he was, we must lose him, for nothing but a line of beaters would have got him out of the dense undergrowth ; and at this time of the year it is forbidden to beat. "We were not long in reaching the open ground, but no bear was visible. It was impossible he could have crossed before us, so he was evidently still in the 54 RIFLE AXD SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. bushes and high grass we had passed. Rahman and Khaira therefore went back to track him, whilst I stood in front, in case lie should attempt to break. In a short time I saw Rahman beckon, and on going back he pointed silently to a big smear of blood on the grass, and whispered that he thought the bear was lying- wounded in some bushes below. " The jungle was very dense, and we made our way HI K 1:1; \l; W i.S \ LARGE MALI-'.. down the hill cautiously, looking into each clump of bushes we passed. When we had gone about a couple of hundred yards something stirred in front of us, and we suddenly saw the shaggy black head and shoulders of the bear standing behind a rock some thirty yards off. He had evidently heard or smelt us, and was moving his head to and fro. and peering in our direction. A A K OTA II BEAR. 55 teat: shut in kotah [set page 294.) A FALSE ALARM. 57 steady shot at the point of his shoulder rolled him over, to all appearances lifeless, and Rahman, in a state of excitement whipped out his knife, and rushed forward to take off the skin. He was a little premature, for, when we were within two or three yards, the bear suddenly struggled to his leo-s, and very clearly showed that he did not mean to part with his hide just yet. But a bullet through the side of his head finished him off, and he fell on his face, stone dead. "The bear was a very large male, and on skinning him we found my first shot had broken the hind leg high up,' which luckily prevented his travelling faster than ourselves, or we certainly must have lost him in the thick jungle.1' The next two days we worked hard trying to get a shot at the barasingh Alan saw the day we arrived, but without success. These low hills are covered with deciduous trees, whose dried leaves are now lying a loot thick on the ground, and, however carefully one picks one's way, it is impossible to avoid making a noise which can be heard a quarter of a mile off. Yesterday evening whilst I was sketching, there was a scrunching and rustling of withered leaves on the hill behind me, which I thought must be occasioned by a bear at least. On investigation, it turned out to be a little jungle fowl, which, light and small as it was, could not help making noise enough for an elephant. 5S RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. Rahman wished us to move our camp nearer to the Maharaja's preserve, and guaranteed our bagging two or three bears if we would stay there a few days. But wc were anxious t<> get across the Marbul Pass into Kishtiwar, where we Imped to find barasingh more numerous, and at this time of year a fall of snow might close the passes at any time. In fact the}' are rarely open after the cud of October. We therefore decided to return to Kanbul, and then, after trying Halkin Galli for barasingh, to make our way to Kishtiwar and Chamba. Halkin <;<