*i»i'
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADES 
 
 INDIAN HILL LIFE 
 
 4 4 73 9^
 
 LIGHTS & SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 IN THE 
 
 AFGHAN AND HINDU 
 HIGHLANDS OF THE PUNJAB 
 
 A CONTRAST 
 
 By F. STJ. gore 
 
 B. A., MAGUALEN COLLEGE, OXFORD 
 
 VV/TN MAPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS 
 FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 •\'' 
 
 LONDON 
 JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET 
 
 1895 
 
 85995
 
 3)S 
 485 
 
 TO 
 HELEN COUNTESS HARRACH 
 
 TO WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT 
 THIS VOLUME IS MAINLY DUE
 
 PREFACE 
 
 The increasing interest that is continually being taken in that 
 
 great dependency of ours which we call India, leads me to hope 
 
 that the following pages may bring a little fresh light to those who 
 
 are, unfortunately, unable to visit it for themselves ; for even in 
 
 these days of so-called enlightenment one still at times hears in 
 
 England the cry of " India for the Indians " — that theory so plausible 
 
 to the Western, but so meaningless to the Eastern mind. 
 
 An endeavour has been made, in taking these two valleys of 
 
 one province alone of the vast continent, to recall how utterly 
 
 different in race and nationality, religion and character, the 
 
 CO inhabitants we know as " Indians " are. 
 
 CQ 
 
 G) What we call India has absolutely no meaning to any of the 
 
 native dwellers within the area. It is a vast conglomeration of 
 
 ^ distinct peoples and nationalities, conquered by British blood freely 
 
 02 
 
 -r< shed, and welded together solely by the physical and moral strength 
 of a superior race — a conglomeration which consists of some fourteen 
 distinct races, speaking some seventy-eight different languages, and 
 living in every possible degree of civilisation. 
 
 Politically, the native states alone, which cover only about one- 
 third of the area of the whole, are governed by over two hundred 
 princes totally independent of each other ; while in British territory, 
 where the Viceroy is supreme, such elements as Pathans and Bengalis,
 
 viii LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 Sikhs and Tamils, Punjabis and Mahrattas, are controlled, each' 
 and any of whom has as much affinity for the other as oil has 
 for water. 
 
 The races that pose most frequently in England as the " Indian " 
 are the Bengali and the Parsi. The former, as is well known, be- 
 longs to a subtle, versatile, and effeminate nation, densely populating 
 a comparatively small part of the great continent, known as Lower 
 Bengal. Possessing though they do the qualities of mind that 
 enable them to pass the tests of English examinations, they are 
 held in profound contempt by all the other peoples of India for 
 their utter want of moral and physical backbone. 
 
 As we know him, this hot-house plant, the educated Bengali, 
 owes his existence solely to the presence of the British bayonets, 
 and to the desire that English faddists have of trying Western 
 experiments upon an Eastern people. 
 
 It is this Bengali who is always clamouring for a greater share 
 in the government that he has done nothing to support ; it 
 is he who is always ready to fill his newspapers with the 
 iniquities of an "alien rule," and to shout the catch-words he 
 has picked up of the "liberty of the subject" and the "free- 
 dom of the press " ; while all the time he himself understands, 
 far more clearly indeed than do his English teachers, that should 
 ever the " alien rule " be withdrawn, his race will be the first to 
 become again the hewers of wood and drawers of water to the 
 hardy northern Mohammedans — a fine, bold, and manly people, who 
 believe more in the virtues of a strong right arm and a fixity of 
 purpose than in the criticism of the comparative values of Shake- 
 speare and Milton. 
 
 The Parsi, on the other hand, of whom Mr. Dadabhai Naoroji, 
 the ex-member for Finsbury, and Mr. Bhownagri, the new member 
 for Bethnal Green, N.E., are such excellent examples, have
 
 PREFACE ix 
 
 scarcely as good a claim to represent India as the English them- 
 selves have ; for, like ourselves, they are aliens in race and religion, 
 having come from Persia in small numbers only a century or two 
 previous to our arrival upon the scene. Contemporaneously with 
 the cession of the island by the Portuguese to the English the 
 Parsis settled in Bombay, where they have established themselves 
 solely as a trading community after the manner of the Jews. 
 Under British protection they have made their mark as successful 
 merchants and excellent citizens, but their insignificant numbers 
 (not more than 89,000 in all India), as well as their eminently un- 
 warlike character, prove that they cannot be considered as in any 
 way representative of the continent at large. 
 
 It is between such varied elements as these that the English 
 handful in India holds the scales. The magnificent Pax Britannica 
 that enables the solitary traveller to walk unarmed through 2000 
 miles of country and 250 millions of people, has been bought by 
 the blood of our forefathers, shed in a way that is plainly in- 
 telligible to all the dwellers in the land, and is sustained solely by 
 the conviction they have that, if need arises, we are ready to pour 
 it out as freely again. 
 
 The future of India must always be an uncertain quantity. 
 With a population increasing by some twenty-five millions in every 
 ten years, it is evident enough that, if the present state of peace 
 and progress is to be maintained, a continually heavier burden will 
 fall upon the 70,000 British bayonets who, alone among the 
 now 300 million natives, represent the dominant power of the 
 superior race. 
 
 The question is frequently asked, Are the natives more reconciled 
 to our rule ? is there any fear of another mutiny ? The only answer 
 that one can give, I think, is, that all really intelligent natives 
 must be aware, quite as well as we are, that they have more to lose
 
 X LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 than to gain by turning us out. Often as they must feel the burden 
 of the ruling power — and what child does not at times resent the 
 parent's authority ? — our worst enemies cannot but admit that the 
 work done in India by the British is at least as honest as human 
 nature can make it. The results of that work speak for themselves. 
 
 The real danger to India lies in the vast body of unintelligent 
 natives who are flattered into impossible dreams by well-meaning 
 but ignorant reformers from home. Each section of these natives 
 has its own axe to grind, and they hope, in the upsetting of the 
 present equilibrium, to possibly gain their selfish ends at their 
 neighbours' expense. As long as we respect ourselves, the natives 
 will respect us. The respect for the authority of a superior race is 
 a sentiment that they have ever understood, and we shall have no 
 one but ourselves to thank if, by overriding the well-matured 
 opinions of its servants on the spot, the Home Government does 
 anything to weaken the authority of the handful of white faces 
 who in India are devoting their lives to the education and civilisa- 
 tion of so vast a mass of hvunanity. 
 
 No one can travel about India without a feeling of pride in 
 what has been and is being done, as well as of gratitude for the 
 kind and hospitable welcome that is offered him wherever he goes. 
 To thank all would be impossible. 
 
 To my brother, Lt. Colonel St. George Gore, E.E., in charge of the 
 Himalayan survey party, I owe previous visits to India in which 
 we wandered off the beaten track, and lately three happy months 
 under canvas amidst the magnificent scenery that Kulu affords. 
 To Mr. W. Merk, C.S.L, who, as political officer, was charged with 
 the taking over of the turbulent Kuram valley, I owe the Govern- 
 ment's permission to cross the frontier with him, as well as the 
 interest with which the society of so successful a frontier officer 
 was able to invest my visit to that region ; and it is but an
 
 PREFACE xi 
 
 inadequate return for all their hospitality and kindness to mention 
 the names of Messrs. Philip and Vincent Mackinnon of Dehra, 
 General Sir Henry Collett at Peshawur, the Shahzada Sultan Jan, 
 C.I.E., and the many officers of the Kuram force. 
 
 I am deeply indebted also to Signor Vittorio Sella, the well- 
 known Alpine photographer, for the liberality with which he placed 
 his great experience in working with the camera at high altitudes 
 at my disposal. Any success I met with was, I feel sure, greatly 
 due to my care in following his advice. 
 
 I have endeavoured, as far as possible, to avoid ground that has 
 been gone over before, though I am fully conscious that there is 
 nothing wholly new in the following pages. I can only trust that 
 those who are much better acquainted with these valleys than I am, 
 will pardon my attempts to bring these scenes again before the eyes 
 of those who cannot visit them ; for in these days, when incidents 
 and information are poured so lavishly upon people's minds, it is 
 only by constant reiteration, by dressing up an old subject ever 
 again in new clothes, that any permanent impression can be made. 
 
 London, October 1895.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAET I.— KULU 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE START — HIMALAYAN HEIGHTS — THE EETINUE — SIMLA KHUDS — VIEW FROM 
 FAGU — VILLAGE GOD -HOUSES — NATIVE INTELLIGENCE — BEGAR — HIMALAYAN 
 PACK ANIMALS — THE ALPS AND HIMALAYAS CONTRASTED — HILL ROADS — ENGLISH 
 ENGINEERING — CAMP LIFE — CROSSING THE SUTLEJ — THE ROAD BUNGALOW — 
 AN ALPINE VILLAGE — THE JALAORI PASS — MONAL PHEASANTS — A POETICAL 
 
 CALL ........ Pages 1-28 
 
 CHAPTER n 
 
 SITUATION OF KULU — ROADS TO KULU — WAZfRI RUPI — EARLY HISTORY — THE 
 GOVERNORS OF KULU — CONTRAST OF KULU AND KURAM — NEED OF GAME LAWS 
 — HER majesty's MAILS — NAINU AS A PHOTOGRAPHER — JIBBI — FOOTGEAR — A 
 -STORM UNDER THE JALAORI — SMALL BIRDS — NATIVE EVIDENCE — AN ECLIPSE — 
 KULU ADMINISTRATION — BEGAr REGULATIONS — WE START AGAIN — KULU WOMEN 
 — KULU~^CHASTITY— A NATIVE BRIDGE — THE BAJAORA LEOPARD . 29-57 
 
 CHAPTER HI 
 
 WAZIKI RUPI AND THE PARBATI VALLEY — AN ENGLISH BRIDGE — NATIA^E VILLAGE 
 NAMES — INCONSEQUENT MONKEYS — FOREST FIRES— HIMALAYAN MAP-MAKING — 
 MANIKARN — THE HOT SPRINGS — EFFECT UPON THE SERVANTS — THE JEMADAR 
 SHAVES — THE UPPER PARBATI VALLEY — PULGA — SUNSET ON THE GLACIERS —
 
 7 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 A NATIVE HUNTER— MEAT FOR NATIVES— A HIGH CAMP— A GLORIOUS VIEW— 
 MADHO'S SHIRT-TAILS — A NIGHT ON THE HIGH GROUND — RHODODENDRONS— 
 WE TURN BACK— PULGA VILLAGERS— TUTRI ALAS— ST. G. AND I PART— CRICKET 
 AT MANIKARN— A GYMKHANA — START FOR THE MALAUNA PASS— PLENTIFUL 
 GAME — RASH6l VILLAGE— the RASHOL PASS — MALAUNA VILLAGES — THE VILLAGE 
 TEMPLES— THE MALAUNA PASS— VIEW FROM THE SUMMIT — A BAD DESCENT- 
 END OF A LONG MARCH ..... Pages 58-92 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE UPPER BEAS VALLEY — KULU ZAMINDAR's HOUSE — AN OIL -MILL — NAGAR 
 PEASANTS — THE NAGAR FAIR — ASSEMBLY OF WOMEN — EVILS OF THE MELA — 
 MARRIAGE CUSTOMS — DISREGARD OF THE MARRIAGE TIE — NAGAR CASTLE — 
 LADAKHIS—NAINU'S FANCY — TURQUOISES— SULTANPUR — BRAHMIN INTOLERANCE 
 — THE RAl's MARRIAGE CEREMONIES — THE PALACE^ — THE HOUSEHOLD — LADIES- 
 IN-WAITING — SILVER JEWELRY — THE HARVEST IN KULU — PRODUCE OF THE 
 LAND — RICE-PLANTING — WE LEAVE KULU — THE DOLCHI PASS — VIEW OVER 
 MANDI — A VILLAGE DEITY — MONKEYS AGAIN — CONTRASTS IN MANDI CITY — 
 THE "VICTORIA JUBILEE" BRIDGE — SUGAR-MILLS IN SUKET — THE SACRED 
 LAKES AT RIWALSIR — FLOATING ISLANDS — INTERVIEW WITH THE KOTWAl — 
 FROM BHOJPUR TO DIHR — THE FERRYMAN AT THE SUTLEJ — A PEA.SANT's 
 PHILOSOPHY — SENAIS— AN ANCIENT PROCESS — BILASPUR — WE TAKE A DRIVE — 
 A BOLD THIEF — UPHILL AGAIN — NAMOL — ERKI — NATIVE GRATITUDE — CIVILISA- 
 TION AGAIN . . . . . . . • 9-3-125 
 
 INTERMEZZO 
 
 THE SUB-HIMALAYAS — A NATIVE'S DISCRIMINATION — START FROM DAGSHAI — A 
 MONOTONOUS MENU — BAD ROAD— THE MULES SUFFER — RAIN AT MYPUR — A 
 DELIGHTFUL CAMP — SATIBAGH — A BACHELOR'S DIFFICULTIES— SPORT AT SATIBAGH 
 — THE SACRED LAKES AT RANKA — A VISIT TO NAHAN— THE RAJA'S GUEST- 
 WESTERN CIVILISATION ON EASTERN SUBJECTS — FACTORIES AT NAHAN — FOOT- 
 BALL—THE KYArDA dun — mAJRA — mule-drivers' PROCRASTINATIONS— CROSS 
 
 THE JUMNA — A HOME-COMING DEHRA DUN JUNGLES — THE SHIP OF THE 
 
 JUNGLE — LONG DAYS ON THE ELEPHANTS — A FASCINATING BEAST — DOCILITY 
 OF THE ELEPHANT — A SHOOTING CAMP — TIGERS AT KANS RAO . 129-149
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAET IL— KUEAM 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 INDIA" LEFT BEHIND — ATTOCK — THE PESHAWUR VALLEY — A PESHAWUR RAIL- 
 WAY STATION — PESHAWUR CITY — DREWARAH YAU DI — THE KHYBER — KHYBER 
 ARRANGEMENTS — ZAKHA KHEL AFRfDIS — AN AFRIDl's EDUCATION — A HOME- 
 MADE ZIARAT — ALI MASjfD — THE ROMANCE OF THE KHYBER — A KHATTAK 
 DANCE AT PESHAWUR — THROUOH THE KOHAT PASS — AN ARITHMETICAL PROBLEM 
 —ANIMAL CHABUTRA — THE JOWAKIS AND ADAM KHELS — THE ROAD A SANCTUARY 
 — STORY OF THE AFGHAN-JEWISH CONNECTION — KOHAT AT LAST — THE EKHAS 
 ARRIVE — THE ORIENTAL EKHA — HANGU INDIAN CIVIL SERVANTS — THE SUP- 
 PORTERS OF THE EMPIRE — A LONELY LIFE — THULL — LEAVE BRITISH TERRITORY 
 — BILANDKHEL CAMP Pages 153-176 
 
 CHAPTER n 
 
 HIGH POLITICS — THE FRONTIER GAME OF CHESS — A THIEF PUNISHED — THE KURAM 
 ESCORT — THE PUNJAB FRONTIER FORCE — LIFE IN CAMP — PEACE OR WAR ? — A 
 JIRGA — BILANDKHEL VILLAGE — FOOTBALL IN CAMP — SIKHS AND PATHANS — 
 BAGPIPES — THE PESHAWUR MOUNTAIN BATTERY — A FALSE ALARM — THE NATIVE 
 SENTRY — FIRING AT NIGHT — NAINU'S INTERESTS— WE LEAVE BILANDKHEL 
 
 177-189 
 
 CHAPTER m 
 
 THE KURAM VALLEY — QUARRELS OF THE TRIBES— TUBI FACTIONS — SHfAHS V. 
 SUNNIS — DR^WANDIS V. MIAN MURIDS — A HOTBED OF INTRIGUE — CHIKKAI 
 APPEARS — A PATHAN ROB ROY — CHIKKAI, THE KING-MAKER — DISCORD AND 
 RETALIATION — BRITISH ARRIVAL ON THE SCENE — END OF THE TROUBLE — A NO- 
 MAN's LAND — AN INFLAMMABLE CROWD — OIL ON TROUBLED WATERS — MERK 
 SETTLES THE QUARREL — SCOTCH HISTORY REPEATED — THE MIDDLEMAN — A NEW 
 TRANS-FRONTIER ADMINISTRATION — PERSONAL GOVERNMENT V. A SYSTEM — A 
 MURDERER PUNISHED — COMPURGATORS — ARRIVAL OF CHIKKAI IN CAMP 
 
 190-205
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 WE CROSS THE KURAM rjVER— HARES — A TURI GAME — INSECURITY OF THE 
 VALLEY — ESCORTS — RUINED FORTS — PATHAN CHIVALRY — A GLORIOUS SNOWY 
 RANGE — THE SAF^D KOH — ARRIVAL AT SANOfNA CAMP — A POOR EXCHANGE 
 FOR A TENT — FOOTBALL AGAIN — AN EVENING HYMN — SADDA VILLAGE — THE 
 WATER-MILLS — A PHOTOGRAPHER'S TRIALS — THE SHAHZAdA SULTAN JAN — THE 
 BIRTH OF A REGIMENT — PATHANS AS FIGHTERS — A BLOOD FEUD — PATHAN 
 GENEALOGY — WOMAN'S VALUE — MARRIAGE SETTLEMENTS — MARIAGES DE CON- 
 V'£.V.1VC£— PATHAN ROMANCE — A TURI CAMERA-CARRIER . Pages 206-225 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 WE CONTINUE UP THE VALLEY — UPPER KURAM— A VISIT TO SHAKADARA — MIR 
 AKBAR, THE HEAD OF THE MIAN MUR^DS — SHAKADARA VILLAGE — AN ORIENTAL 
 DINNER — INDIGESTION A SIGN OF GRATITUDE — MIR AKBAR's OFFERINGS — A 
 CHAKMANNI RAID— DECOY DUCKS — OLD "BROWN BESS " LOCK IN A NEW SET- 
 TING — AHMEDZAI — SYUD ABBAs, THE LEADER OF THE DBfiWANDIS — THE TURI 
 CHARACTER — THE GHILZAIS PROBABLY OF TURKI ORIGIN — THE PEIWAR KOTAL 
 
 226-239 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 SHALOZAn, THE GARDEN OF KURAM — FRUIT AND ENGLISH FLOWERS — SHALOzAn 
 PROSPECTS — NAINU BUYS A WEAPON — THE SEEKERS AFTER KNOWLEDGE — A 
 SCHOOL EXAMINATION — ORIENTAL PLANE TREES — DEATH OF BADSHAH GUL — 
 KURAM WIND — Z^RAN — RUINS AT KIRMAN — THE SHRINE OF FAKHR-I-AlAM — LAST 
 DAYS — PARACHInAr — SANGiNA AGAIN — THE SHAHzAda's KINDNESS — A ROUGH 
 DRIVE TO THULL — EKHA PONIES — A TONGA RECORD FROM KOHAT — KHUSHAJ.- 
 GARH — THE INDUS AGAIN 240-257
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS 
 
 The full-page plates were reproduced from the author's photograplis by 
 Messrs. Brunner and Hauser of Zurich. 
 
 KOMARSEN 
 
 KULU 
 
 1. Our camp above Pulga (10,200 feet) . 
 
 2. View from the Fagu road near Simla . 
 
 3. JemadAr, chaprassis, and kalassis . 
 
 4. Jenog 
 
 5. The Snows from Narkanda 
 
 6. Looking down into the Sutlej valley from 
 
 7. Camp at the Luri bridge .... 
 
 8. Cultivated hillside near Chaavai . 
 
 9. An early start from K6t Bungalow 
 
 10. God-house at Kot 
 
 11. JiBBI 
 
 12. Deod.4r cedars at Jibbi .... 
 
 13. Village temple at Manglaor . 
 
 14. Peasant women at ManglAou . 
 
 15. The Sainj river at Larji .... 
 
 16. Looking up the PArbati valley at Chani 
 
 17. Sunset near Manikarn .... 
 
 18. Manikarn 
 
 19. The hot springs at Manikar.\ . 
 
 20. Pulga 
 
 21. From the ridge above our camp (11,200 feet 
 
 22. Cricket at Manikarn 
 
 23. Malauna villages from the Rashol Pass 
 
 24. Village temples at Malauna . 
 
 25. View from the Malauna Pass towards the Rashol 
 
 Pass (12,200 feet) 
 
 Frontispiece 
 To fane page 4 
 6 
 10 
 16 
 20 
 22 
 24 
 26 
 30 
 36 
 40 
 48 
 52 
 54 
 62 
 64 
 66 
 
 81 
 
 90
 
 XVIU 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 26. Looking up the Kulu valley at Nagar 
 
 27. A Zamindak's house at Nagae . 
 
 28. Nagar fair 
 
 29. A Kulu lady .... 
 
 30. Street in Sultanpu^r . 
 
 31. Sultanpur from the maidan 
 
 32. Harvest in Kulu 
 
 33. A village god at Kataula 
 
 34. Mandi 
 
 35. Ferry across the Sutlej at DIhr 
 
 36. Senais on the Sutlej . 
 
 37. From Namol 
 
 To face pwje 93 
 
 94 
 
 96 
 
 98 
 
 102 
 
 106 
 
 108 
 
 110 
 
 112 
 
 118 
 
 122 
 
 124 
 
 THE SUB- HIMALAYAS 
 
 38. Drying camp at Satibagh . 
 
 39. A hill maiden . . . . 
 
 40. Dramatis persons 
 
 41. From the tiger's point of view 
 
 133 
 136 
 140 
 
 148 
 
 KUEAM 
 
 42. KissAKHANi Bazar, Peshawur .... 
 
 43. Jamrud fort at the mouth of the Khyber . 
 
 44. Ali Masji'd from the Khyber Pass . 
 
 45. At the gate of Ali MASjfD .... 
 
 46. Looking back down the Khyber from Ali Masjid 
 
 47. Camp at Bilandkhel 
 
 48. Peace or war, Jirga of the Massuzai-Orukzai 
 
 49. Picket of the Fifth Punjab Cavalry 
 
 50. Native officers of the First PunjAb Infantry 
 
 51. Peshawur Mountain Battery in action . 
 
 52. Men of the Second Punjab Infantry 
 
 53. The Political Officers in Kuram 
 
 54. Nobles and holymen in Kuram 
 
 55. Marukhel and the Safed Koh . 
 
 56. Camp at Sangina .... 
 
 57. Water-mills at Sadda 
 
 58. TuRi Militia .... 
 
 59. Tower in the village of Sadda 
 
 60. Mir Akbar of Shakadara and his sons 
 
 61. Decoy ducks in Kuram 
 
 156 
 158 
 160 
 164 
 166 
 178 
 180 
 182 
 184 
 186 
 194 
 200 
 204 
 208 
 210 
 214 
 217 
 220 
 228 
 233
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 62. At the gate of Ahmeuzai 
 
 63. Ghilzais on the road to Kabul 
 
 64. Looking down the Kuram valley near Ahmedzai 
 
 65. Shalozan 
 
 66. SiKARAM FROM ShOELAN 
 
 67. The chinar trees at ShalozAn 
 
 68. At Tezana, KirmAn .... 
 
 69. Fakhr-i-Alam's ziarat, Kirman . 
 
 70. Border village of Kanda . 
 
 71. ShoblAn villages .... 
 
 72. The ShahzAda and his escort . 
 
 To face page 234 
 236 
 238 
 240 
 242 
 244 
 246 
 248 
 250 
 252 
 254 
 
 The illustrations in the text were reproduced from drawings kindly contributed by 
 Count Ferdinand Harrach and K. M. Bernard. 
 
 1. The order of march . 
 
 2. Himalayan transport 
 
 3. Camp kitchen 
 
 4. Her Majesty's mail 
 
 5. Grass sandals 
 
 6. KuLU silver-enamelled necklace 
 
 7. Silver mirror-ring 
 
 8. The tail of the flock 
 
 9. Kulu chakmak 
 
 10. Nainu's fancy 
 
 11. Silver pins of the Kulu dress 
 
 12. Assyrian tracings 
 
 13. Elephants in the Jungle . 
 
 14. A frontier journey . 
 
 15. Peshawur Mountain Battery 
 
 16. Afghan silver-mounted knife 
 
 17. Our baggage 
 
 18. Jezail 
 
 19. An old "Brown Bess" lock in a new setting 
 
 20. Pistol with silver-inlaid barrel 
 
 21. Kuram silver amulet . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 1 
 
 15 
 
 19 
 
 29 
 
 39 
 
 51 
 
 57 
 
 71 
 
 92 
 
 101 
 
 106 
 
 121 
 
 146 
 
 171 
 
 186 
 
 196 
 
 210 
 
 225 
 
 234 
 
 252 
 
 257 
 
 MAPS 
 
 1. Sketch map of Kulu and part of the Himalayas 
 
 2. ,, ,, Kuram 
 
 150
 
 PAKT I.-KULU
 
 M,\^"% 
 
 
 CHAT TEE 1 
 
 " It is no good your worry- 
 ing, my dear fellow ; when 
 you have been in the Hima- 
 layas a little longer, you will learn that all this is a necessary part 
 of the start into camp. It is the overture to the opera. You 
 had better sit down quietly and wait. They will get under weigh 
 all in their own good time." Then turning to the headman, 
 ' Jemadar Ji, what sort of jemadar are you ? For two whole 
 hours you have lieen arranging the loads and not one kuli has 
 yet started." 
 
 "Sahib, all is now ready, but the mule -man has come and 
 makes complaint that as he was driving the mules hither, the police 
 caught them and have kept them back, because it is not lawful 
 here in Simla for one mule-man to drive more than two mules. 
 Without the nudes, Protector of the Poor, we are not able to 
 divide the loads." 
 
 The mule chaudri (contractor) here advances to the verandah, 
 and salaming low with both hands to his forehead, whines, " Sahib, 
 the police are without doubt hard men. The mules were only 
 being driven here with all speed for your honour's use, when the 
 police seized them, saying that this was against the nnuiicipality's 
 orders and not until this case is settled can the mules be released." 
 This new difficulty is too much for the curiosity of the crowd 
 ^'' B
 
 2 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 in the courtyard. They all leave their biuidles, boxes, baskets, 
 and tents, which everywhere strew the ground, and which they have 
 been for hours trying to arrange in a portable form, and cluster 
 round to hear the denouement of the mule story. 
 
 For a while the babel is hushed in the new interest, till 
 suddenly the jemadar, remembering for what purpose they were 
 all got together, dashes at the kulis and with angry words and 
 pushes drives them back to their work, where they squat down 
 again upon the ground and play with the bundles, or wander to 
 and fro lifting up each load with exclamations of pious horror at 
 its weight, until a chaprassi (messenger), in a sudden access of 
 zeal, pounces upon them and with voice and stick persuades them 
 to take up their burden and walk. 
 
 Every one is talking ; the chaprassis urging, the kulis protest- 
 ing, the servants joining in voluble anxiety as they see the rough 
 handling of some of the stores belonging to their special depart- 
 ment. Even the chickens, resenting the new confinement in their 
 round flat basket, cackle to the cook, who, staff in hand ready for 
 the march, surveys them with a fatherly interest ; while the ducks, 
 sticking their long necks through the netting that covers the top, 
 give vent to an additional quack of disapprobation. 
 
 Through all this confusion the mules wander, until they are 
 seized upon by their big-turbaned Punjabi drivers to have their 
 burdens slung over their backs. Three men grasp each side of the 
 load, with a great amount of effort and mutual encouragement lift 
 it off the ground, and with a supreme push roll the heavy tent 
 over the mule's back, who, however, expresses his displeasure at 
 this arrangement by taking a step forward at the critical moment, 
 whereby the whole mass slips off over his tail, and is again 
 deposited on the ground. A fresh volley of uncharitable and un- 
 complimentary language then breaks out on the part of the kulis, 
 each of whom energetically explains that if it had not been for the 
 others, etc., until a chaprassi's appearance cuts short the discussion 
 and oroanises a new efibi't.
 
 CHAP. I THE START 3 
 
 Upon this scene my brother St. George and I looked down from 
 a Simla verandah on the morning of our start into the " Interior," 
 as the inner ranges of the Himalayas are called : I with all the 
 wonder of a new-comer, and he with all the knowledge, born of 
 experience, that this entertainment has always patiently to be gone 
 through on the first morning's march ; after which, the loads being 
 all settled and made up, there is no more difficulty, each kuli 
 taking up the one that is allotted to him. 
 
 It was a glorious October morning, as indeed all October 
 mornings are in India. The keen fresh air, at this height of 7000 
 feet, was gently warmed by the brilliant sun; above was the 
 cloudless blue sky ; while glimpses through the pine trees took one 
 far down below into the deep valleys with their little terraced 
 fields and peaceful villages, and through a gap in a line of hills 
 the still lower plains of India could be seen stretching away into 
 the morning haze. Everything seemed bright and sparkling in the 
 clear dry air as we rode up on our ponies through the Simla bazar 
 on to the mall on the crest of the ridge, and caught sight of the 
 long line of jagged snow-peaks towards which, some hundred miles 
 or so off, our jonurey was to take us. 
 
 Off at last ! The exhilarating delight of three months' camp 
 life in the most beautiful scenery ahead of us, and all civilisation 
 and care left behind ! What more could one wish for ? The very 
 ponies seemed to share it as, pressing them with our knees, we 
 cantered through the bazar and out on to the frosty road under 
 the shade of Jakko. 
 
 Our destination was Kulu, for my brother was in charge of the 
 Himalayan party of the Survey of India, and his work every winter 
 took him to that valley, where his subordinates were surveying ; 
 some marking out the forests, and others some ground that had 
 not yet been worked out in detail. My object in accompanying 
 him was to take photographs, if possible, of some of the snows, 
 whose bold outline fringes the horizon of every view northward in 
 the Himalayas. Unfortunately for me, however, the " Himalayas,"
 
 4 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 instead of being, as I was taught at school, a single mountain 
 range, represented by a fat elongated caterpillar across the top of 
 a map of India, are in reality a vast mountainous district some 
 1600 miles long, by at least 200 in depth. Eange upon range 
 traverses this belt, mostly in a north-west and south-east direction, 
 but often completely broken up into a confused mass by the 
 immense rivers that cut through them. The most curious feature 
 of this mountainous belt is its sharp definition along the southern 
 edge, for it terminates abruptly, nearly the whole way along, in 
 a ridge varying from 6000 to 7000 feet, which drops sheer down 
 into the lower country known, in distinction, as the Plains of 
 India. 
 
 Standing anywhere on the summit of this outer ridge, you look 
 south over the flat country, 5000 feet below, stretching far away 
 into the hazy distance ; while if you turn to the north, an endless 
 series of ridges meets your eye, line upon line, none seeming very 
 much higher than the ground on which you are standing, though 
 a spur here and there may rise to 10,000 or 12,000 feet, and in the 
 far-off distance, often over a hundred miles away, is a long array of 
 snowy peaks, averaging mostly about 21,000 feet, but with peaks 
 here and there reaching a height of 23,000, 25,000 and 26,000 
 feet above the sea. 
 
 From a distance these snows, standing up against the sky-line, 
 look like one long liackbone to the Himalayas ; but they are not so 
 in reality, for when you get closer to them you find them to be 
 detached groups — often a great distance apart — so that it is 
 extremely difticult to trace the watershed in the confused and 
 broken mass of mountains. 
 
 The closer acquaintance with these high peaks, it must be 
 admitted, is often rather disappointing, owing partly to the great 
 elevation of the ground from which they are the outcrop, and partly 
 to the hot dry atmosphere, which prevents the line of perpetual 
 snow descending below 16,000 feet. For, as you march day after 
 day through the Himalayas towards the snows, the valley bottoms
 
 VIEW FROM THE FAGU ROAD NEAR SIMLA
 
 CHAr. I HIMALA VAX HEIGHTS 5 
 
 rise as well as the mountain tops, so that on arriving at the base 
 of a 22,000 foot peak the traveller often finds that the valley that 
 he is standing on is already some 10,000 feet above the sea, and 
 that the summit above him is after all not much higher above his 
 head than is often the case in Switzerland.^ 
 
 And again, what a difference in the prospect : the Swiss village 
 at the foot of its snow-peak has in most cases all the beauty and 
 charm that green meadows and swarthy pine-woods and even fruit- 
 trees can give ; whereas our Himalayan valley of 10,000 feet is 
 bleak and barren, with little sign of trees or vegetation, often only 
 a stony waste, and should a few human beings here find a lonely 
 abode, the villagers eke out a scanty subsistence from some little 
 patches of buckwheat and a herd or two of hardy goats. 
 
 Into this maze of mountains our small party, consisting of my 
 brother and myself, rode forth ; and as we got clear of Jakko, 
 we pulled up to review our army, which was of truly Oriental 
 proportions. 
 
 Behind us stood our personal staff: the two ponies' saises, tall, 
 wiry men, with the ponies' rugs and picket-ropes across their 
 shoulders ; our two gun-bearers, men of the mountains, carrying 
 weapons to be used, in this peaceful country, against nothing more 
 dangerous than the pheasant or the bear ; and lastly, our two camera- 
 men, whose knapsacks on their backs and tripods in their hands 
 betrayed their ubiquitous nineteenth-century calling. These six 
 
 ' These statements are confined to tlie central Himalayas, but the dryness of the 
 atmosphere, as compared with Switzerland, is universal. 
 
 The summit of Mont Blanc is 12,333 feet above Chanionix. 
 ,, .Tungfrau is 11,808 ,, Interlaken. 
 
 ,, Jlonte Rosa is 10,100 ,, JNIacugnaga. 
 
 Weisshorn is 10,026 ,, Taesch. 
 
 ,, Matterhorn is 9,385 ,, Zermatt. 
 
 Salopant (23,240) is 12,040 feet above Badrinath Temple. 
 Srikanta (20,130) is 10,110 ,, Gangutri. 
 
 ,, NaiidaDovi (25,660) is 14,590 ,, Martoli. 
 
 Peak (22,000) is 9,000 ,, Niti village. 
 
 Peak (18,000) is 10,700 ,. Pulga in Kulu.
 
 6 LIGHTS AND SHA DES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 men were our constant body-guard, and accompanied us wherever 
 we went until the paths got too bad for the ponies, when the saises 
 stayed behind to look after them. 
 
 Here come the advance-guard, stepping out briskly, staff in 
 hand, and always well ahead of the main body, the four Mahomedan 
 servants — cook, kitchen-boy, table-servant, and water-carrier. The 
 twelve-mile stage is a joke to them, for they have packed all their 
 goods into the kulis' baskets, and are marching light, with little 
 superfluous flesh also to hamper them. With them goes a chap- 
 rassi to arrange about to-morrow's kulis, blue-tunic'd and brass- 
 badged, his red turban giving him quite a martial appearance — 
 " Sahib, salam." 
 
 Following at a respectful distance, as if conscious of his inferi- 
 ority, comes the low-caste " sweeper," a mild Hindu, leading the 
 two spaniels, Topsy and Nulty, who at the sight of us bark and 
 struggle to free themselves from the hated chain. Another interval, 
 and at last the main body, chaprassi led, straggles into sight, 
 coming along the narrow road. The cavalry is represented by 
 twelve mules, accompanied by their Punjabi drivers. Their heads 
 are free from bridles of any sort, but their backs are burdened 
 with great bundles of tents, bedding, mule trunks, tent-poles, etc. 
 They file by, stopping whenever they get a chance, to nibble at 
 the brown grass by the wayside, until the arrival of the mule- 
 man, with an imprecation upon their laziness, sends them jogging 
 along the road, to the accompaniment of the rattling kitchen-pots 
 upon their backs. 
 
 Close upon the heels of the cavalry follows the regular army, 
 in the shape of ten kalassis (permanent kulis, who are Government 
 servants in the Survey Department). These carry the survey in- 
 struments, and are trained to put up survey beacons, pitch tents, 
 etc. They have five officers above them, the chaprassis, one of 
 whom, however, is always on ahead making arrangements for the 
 morrow, another is generally absent getting the mail, so that not 
 more than three are often in camp together.
 
 CHAP. I THE RETINUE 7 
 
 111 rear of all, spreading over a long line, come the irregulars, 
 kulis, some eighteen of them, carrying kiltas or baskets on their 
 backs containing all the stores, etc. for three months ; for little or 
 nothing is to be had when once one gets away into the hills. The 
 jemadar, the head man of all, walks patiently beside the last kuli, 
 urging him to quicken his steps, and keeping his eyes open for 
 anything that may have been left on the road ; for the kuli, who 
 has often been impressed against his will, has been known before 
 now, when reaching a quiet corner out of sight, to deposit his 
 load upon the road and disappear down the steep hillside, taking 
 the shortest cut back to his village he can find. 
 
 The returns of the above parade show a number of fifty men, 
 twelve mules, and two dogs ; the only weapon of attack or defence, 
 however, of the entire force consisted in a rusty old sword belonging 
 to the jemadar, which was always carried wrapped up in his bedding 
 on the back of a mule, except on state occasions when he was sent 
 to the treasury for a bag of rupees. It was then buckled on, to the 
 great honour and glory of the wearer. As this was the only military 
 weapon of any sort I saw during my three months in the Himalayas, 
 it deserves mention. 
 
 The road on which we marched out from Simla, for forty miles 
 as far as Narkanda, is an excellent and very level path, made as 
 the commencement of the famous Himalayan-Thibet road, of 
 which such great things were prophesied, that have never been 
 fulfilled, for the expected trade has been slow in coming. After 
 Narkanda it degenerates into the bridle-path which is universal 
 in these mountains, where wheeled traffic is absolutely unknown. 
 Little care or money is spent upon these paths ; they are mostly 
 dependent for their excellence or the reverse on the nature of 
 the soil in which they are made. Traces of the natives' idea ol' 
 road-mending are always evident : wherever the road runs across 
 a level bit of earth, he will cut the edges carefully, and sweep 
 every pebble from off it ; but fifty yards farther on, where the 
 path crosses some rough and broken rocks, or plunges into the
 
 8 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE i'akt i 
 
 boulder-strewn bed of a ravine, there is not a sign of his handi- 
 work to be seen. 
 
 From Simla to Narkanda this road, admirably laid out years 
 ago l)y English engineers, scarcely rises and falls more than 1000 
 feet, keeping along the top of the winding ridge the whole way, 
 with the result that there are no great heights to be seen above 
 you. But if you are on a level with most of the surrounding moun- 
 tains, you have here on all sides, straight down below, as steep 
 as earth will lie, enormous valleys running in every direction ; and 
 your ideas of distance and size have to expand before you can 
 realise the vastness of the depths. 
 
 As we rode along, in and out of the spurs, we looked down 
 first into one valley and then into another, according as the path 
 lay on the east or west side of the ridge, sometimes also crossing 
 a narrow watershed, where the valleys drop steep on both sides. 
 
 A sharply-defined contrast is to be noticed in every view. On 
 the hillsides facing the north, which, being shaded from the sun, 
 retain more moisture, pine forests cover the slopes ; while on the 
 southern sides the treeless red soil is covered with short brown 
 grass, and when the slopes allow it, little lines of terraced fields 
 mark out the ground like the contours of a map. The midday 
 lights over such a panorama are of course rather hard and ugly, 
 for where the lines are wanting in a picture, one looks to the 
 colouring to relieve it. But how can one describe the morning 
 and evening on the same ground ? As the sun begins to fall, all 
 the brown, water-worn, herring-boned ridges on tlie bare mountain 
 sides cast deep-blue shadows, as if to veil their nakedness ; all the 
 fiat slopes seem to start into life as the ever-lengthening shadow^s 
 reveal each little roughness ; then a sudden softness comes over 
 all the hard lines, the distance grows opal-coloured, through which 
 the far-off snows flush pink for a moment, while the deep valleys 
 at our feet turn indigo blue, passing almost suddenly into black, 
 in the absence of twilight, and the stars begin to sparkle out of 
 the frosty, dark vault above.
 
 CHAP. I VIKIV FROM FAGU 9 
 
 We reached Fugu, our first halting -place, twelve miles out 
 from Simla, by 3 o'clock, and found our excellent servants ready 
 with a cup of tea as we rode up to the Dtxk Bungalow, which 
 is here the sole representative of the somewhat large -typed name 
 on the map. These few bungalows between Simla and Narkanda 
 are so much used by picnic excursionists, that they are more like 
 embryo hotels, and though they have none of the rustic charm they 
 possess a good deal more solid comfort than the bungalows to be 
 found farther on, where the stars often shine romantically down 
 upon you through the cracks in the roof as you lie sleeping some- 
 what riskily on a three-legged bed. 
 
 But there were signs that the season was over, and that the 
 gay Simlaites had departed to the more sober plains ; for never 
 a Sahib did we meet on our forty-mile march out to Narkanda, 
 and the bungalow khansama's stores were scarcely able to meet 
 even our modest demands. 
 
 I was up betimes next morning in my eagerness to get the first 
 view of the new country, and as I stepped out into the fresh air 
 the whole world seemed at my feet. I walked down to the edge 
 of a little spur in front of the bungalow, and looked down into the 
 deep valleys on both sides. Such a morning as this is one to 
 dream of. The dark chill of night still covered the depths below, 
 but here at this heioht the risino- sun was lighting up, in its delicate 
 way, all prominent points and ridges, while the valleys still re- 
 mained in deep blue, till the long rays of gold, creeping slowly down 
 the hillsides, picked out one by one the little villages set in their 
 terraces of crimson amaranth. A cloudless pale-blue sky overhead, 
 and all around a fresh keen atmosphere so clear and pure that the 
 long line of far-off snows stood out white and sharp in brilliant 
 definition ; and above all the perfect stillness : not a sound could 
 be heard but the muffled roar of the torrent far, far down below, 
 echoing up out of the l)lue abyss. 
 
 I stood a long time listening to this intense stillness, and 
 trying to impress the wonder of it all upon my memory, for it is
 
 10 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 quite impossible to photograph such vast extents. The camera 
 would only pick out one little spot where one's eye roams 
 unchecked from the depths below to the ridges above, which in 
 step upon step lead up to the snowy summits upon the far-distant 
 horizon. 
 
 I turned reluctantly back to the bungalow, in time to meet 
 the table-servant carrying in a dish of tiny chops, off the little 
 sheep of the country, and the inevitable, but excellent, curry and 
 rice, wliich is the staple breakfast food all over India. 
 
 All was now in a state of activity on the terrace before the 
 bungalow. The tents, not having been pitched, were still in their 
 bundles, but the pots and the pans, the gun-cases and stores, the 
 rolls of bedding and camp furniture, all had to be divided again 
 into their loads, and apportioned to the new set of kulis, who sat 
 in a long row, wrapped in their cotton sheets, which seemed to 
 form but a poor protection against the keen mountain air. All 
 went smoothly, however, this morning, and as we sat at our 
 breakfast we heard none of the heated arguments of the previous 
 day, and long before we had finished, the line of kulis and the 
 burdened mules had disappeared round the spur, and were 
 hurrying on to the next stage, a short one of only some two and a 
 half hours' walk, to The6g. 
 
 These stages are not very conveniently divided : they ought 
 not to be much more nor much less than twelve miles ; for that is 
 about as nuich as a kuli can do, especially when one remembers 
 that he invariably returns to his village again the same day. But 
 the position of the bungalows has been no doubt mainly fixed at 
 spots where the supplies of flour and rice are easily obtainable by 
 the Sahib's retinue ; for in India the retainers and kulis carry 
 nothing with them, but buy each evening a few handfuls of flour 
 from the local bunnia, who sits scale in hand before his large 
 baskets of meal. 
 
 Sending our ponies on ahead, St.Gr. and I started off on 
 foot, for we intended to make a detour from the road to a village
 
 CHAP. I VILLAGE GOD-HOUSES 11 
 
 called Jen6g, which lies over a ridge and is quite hidden fi-ooi the 
 The6g bungalow. It is a picturesque village, curiously enough 
 rather Chinese in appearance, though its inhabitants have not a 
 trace of anything Mongolian about them. The steep-roofed house 
 belongs to the de6ta, or village god. In most villages throughout 
 the Himalayas there is some prominent house of this kind on 
 which the inhabitants expend their skill in architecture and 
 carving, and which they adorn with the horns of wild animals 
 they have killed, from ibex and serow to the smaller karkur and 
 chamois-like gural. Many of these god -houses are extremely 
 picturesque, but though we frequently asked the people for what 
 purpose they were used, we never satisfactorily found out. All we 
 could learn was that the god did live in them ; but at any rate 
 he was not exclusive enough to prevent men and women living in 
 the house as well. 
 
 In some villages which we saw later these god -houses are 
 detached and more in the form of temples, and in these the nearest 
 approach to a god that I could find was a stone smeared with 
 vermilion. No objection whatever was shown on any occasion to 
 our entering these village temples, which are more in the form of 
 carved wooden chalets than places of worship. Most of them 
 were quite unattended by any priests or officials, and except for 
 the above-mentioned vermilion-smeared stone, we could find no 
 emblem of divinity. 
 
 Indeed, the Hinduism of these hill men is sadly unorthodox, 
 for though Hindus in name, and honouring the names of the 
 Hindu divinities, they are practically demon-worshippers, whose 
 religious zeal is in proportion to their superstition. The true 
 believer is called upon to put his faith in De6s and Devis, the 
 divine beings, in Eikhis and Munis, those whose good deeds have 
 earned for them a place in heaven, and in Jognis, the forest fairies, 
 and Ndg, the serpent god ! But it is truly faith without works, 
 for the chief effort required by their religion is the feeing of the 
 holy man of the callage, to prevent him calling down the wrath of
 
 12 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE parti 
 
 the gods upon their many shortcomings. No doubt the priests 
 live liere, as often enough elsewhere, upon the ignorance of the 
 people, and the curious processions of deltas at the fairs are all 
 mysteries to work upon the superstition of the unenlightened 
 peasant. 
 
 I had obtained as my servant a young fellow from the hills 
 rather to the eastward of these parts, a Pahari Eajpiit, one of the 
 high-caste hill men. He had been excellently trained by a friend 
 of mine in jNIussoorie, and, with the extraordinary aptitude natives 
 have for imitating what is shown them, he had evolved out of a 
 nature of crass stupidity a fair amount of intelligence as long as 
 he was kept within the lines of his training. He could skin 
 birds with great skill ; he knew every butterfly in the hills ; he 
 could make beds, clean guns, pack clothes, and with his l)eautiful 
 eyesight, was a fair shikari ; but ask him about his religion and 
 his belief, or any other original subject, and his intelligence 
 melted away, he stood before you a vacant idiot ! Poor old 
 Nainu ! many a mile we travelled together, and useful servant 
 though he was, I never discovered during the whole of our travels 
 any indigenous spring of intelligence in the place where he kept 
 his brains. 
 
 We took our photographs of Jenog, and then climbed up the 
 slippery grass hill to regain the road, whence a short walk took us 
 to the Theog bungalow, which being on the north side of the hill 
 is prettily surrounded by pine trees. The jemadar approaches 
 and salams. " Sahib, all arrangements are perfect and the kulis 
 are ready " ; and as we approach the bungalow the jemadar mar- 
 shals the kulis into line, and the usual evening ceremony begins. 
 They have each earned four annas (4d.) for their day's work, and 
 St.G., walking along the line, counts every four men, presenting 
 the fourth always with one rupee (16 annas) for division, with the 
 explanation to them of "Four four-annas, do you understand?" 
 This always seemed to tickle the kulis immensely ; possibly it was 
 the liattery of considering them capable of dividing a rupee into
 
 CHAP. I BEGAR 13 
 
 four ; still there generally was one amongst each four who had in- 
 telligence enough to explain how the trick could be done, and as 
 long as they were in sight as they started back honiew"ards, he 
 could be seen demonstrating this mathematical problem to his 
 wondering companions. Quiet, peaceable fellows all of them, 
 obedient and submissive, they cannot lose their tempers, for they 
 really seem to possess none. 
 
 The first institution that is forced upon the traveller's notice 
 in the hills, is the system of Begar, or forced labour, a thorough 
 comprehension of which is necessary for liis daily comfort. It is 
 no new thing, but lias been the innnemorial custom for ages as 
 practised by the natives themselves. The right of the overlords 
 to exact personal services from their inferiors has never been 
 questioned in the East. In a less peaceable country than tliis 
 district, the services of the peasants would have been exacted for 
 warlike enterprises, but here, where fighting has long been un- 
 known, the forced labour was mostly spent upon the roads — a 
 thing most beneficial to all the inhabitants of the district — and 
 upon facilitating the means of communication. 
 
 The Eaja, moving from place to place, travelled literally at his 
 subjects' expense. Notice was given to them that the great man 
 was coming, and at each stage a small army awaited him, offering 
 (v/illingiy or otherwise) their services in whatever way he might 
 command them. Supplies, wood, and water, were all requisitioned 
 from the villages around, and it was, no doubt, with a lighter 
 heart that the peasants next morning took up their lord and 
 master's impedimenta on their backs, and carried them on to the 
 next stage, where their neighbours were waiting to receive them. 
 
 After all, as long as it is not abused, this system is as good a 
 form of taxation as any other, and has the advantage that, owing 
 to the absence of all other means of locomotion, it supplies the 
 only means of moving from one part of the country to another. 
 
 The first necessity in any civilisation is the freedom and possi- 
 bility of movement and intercourse. From one end of the Hinia-
 
 14 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 layas to the other, excepting where the English have made roads 
 up to their hill stations, not a wheel of any kind is to be seen, the 
 tracks are mere bridle-paths, rough, steep, and stony ; and though 
 mules do penetrate from the plains to one or two places on the 
 main tracks, yet they are never the property of the hill men them- 
 selves, but are only brought in by the Punjabi contractors in 
 search of gain. Hence without the kuli to carry your baggage all 
 movement would be impossible. The English have inherited this 
 system, and instead of honestly recognising it as being a necessity, 
 and working it on the Oriental lines but with English fairness, 
 they have mixed up with it Western ideas of the " freedom and 
 liberty of the subject," often to the utter confusion of the 
 traveller and the native himself; and it is safe to say, that if 
 some of the regulations which have been devised in their wisdom 
 by the Assistant Commissioners for the prevention of compelling 
 a native to do a fair day's work for a fair day's wage, were carried 
 out in their entirety, all movement in Kulu would be impossible. 
 
 We pushed along next morning, for we did not wish to waste 
 any more of the autumn days before reaching the snows, the fine 
 weather generally breaking up about Christmas-time. Large herds 
 of sheep and goats were frequently passing us on their way back 
 from Thibet, whither they had been driven for summer pasture. 
 These flocks belong mostly to Ladakhi and Thibetan merchants, 
 who use them on their return journey to bring back the salt and 
 borax which are found on the farther side of the Himalayas, and 
 which are readily sold in India. Each animal carries about 
 16 lbs. in weight, slung over its back in bags ; nor do such burdens 
 seem in any way to inconvenience these active wayfarers as they 
 walk along the rough paths, or scramble up the rocks in quest 
 of a tempting mouthful. The excellent road as far as Narkanda 
 continues almost on the level the whole way, keeping on the 
 watershed between the deep valleys below. Curiously enough this 
 ridse is no less than the watershed of India, for the water in the 
 right-hand valley makes its way by the Giri river into the Jumna,
 
 CHAP. I 
 
 HIMALAYAN PACK ANIMAL,"^ 
 
 15 
 
 and so into the Ganges and the Bay of Bengal, while that on one's 
 left liows into the Sutlej and by the Indus into the Indian Ocean. 
 A night in the bungalow at Mattiana, and then a delightful 
 day's march through some pine forests, brought us to Narkanda, 
 which lies on the top of the ridge overlooking the main Sutlej 
 valley, in which the great river Hows some 5800 feet below. The 
 full line of snows bursts upon one as one comes up to the little 
 
 HIMALAYAN TRANSPORT 
 
 gap in the crest where the Narkanda bungalow is built. A glorious 
 view indeed, for the slopes in the foreground are clothed with 
 deodars, through which, in places, the terraced cultivation and the 
 homely villages are seen below, giving the landscape a more varied 
 and picturesque appearance than is often found in the vast ex- 
 panses one's eye is asked to take in in the Himalayas. 
 
 To any mountain-lover the contrast between the Himalayas 
 and Switzerland is ever present, and no doubt there are parts of 
 Kashmir where sucli comparisons are possible, but in the great 
 central mass of the Himalayas there is an almost complete lack,
 
 16 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 from iui artistic point of view, of the compact and finished Nature's 
 pictures that one sees everywhere in the Alps. It is all on too 
 vast an horizontal scale ; the general absence of cliffs in the land- 
 scape, the drier atmosphere which browns the gragsy hillsides, and 
 the comparative scarceness of trees, all tend to produce a pictuie 
 that, however grand in size, cannot compare with the broken lines 
 and compressed variety that are crowded into the view in the 
 homely Swiss highlands. 
 
 The beauty must be sought elsewhere — in the vastness and 
 general high level at which we march day after day, which bring 
 with them a sense of freedom that is akin to flying ; in the 
 gloriously pure and clear atmosphere, which allows the eye to 
 roam undimmed over range upon range, until the hundred-inile-off 
 snows stand clear and sharp before you ; and above all, in the de- 
 light of being able and at liberty to go wherever you like, to pitch 
 your tent where you like, with no exacting landlords to worry you, 
 no guides and beggars to pester you, no trains to catch, and never a 
 care upon your mind. Your little army is complete and self- 
 contained, no matter how few in numbers, and you are marching 
 through a magnificent country that is to all intents and purposes 
 your own. 
 
 Every morning as you stand at your tent door in the keen 
 fresh air, and look down into the deep blue valleys or up to the 
 sharply-defined ridges which are catching the early sun, you feel 
 again that the world is a beautiful place and that it is good to be 
 alive to enjoy it ! 
 
 Xarkanda bungalow, with its khansania and stores, its well- 
 swept rooms and spacious verandah, not to mention its service of 
 blue Dresden china, was to be our last sign of civilisation, for we 
 left the main track here, which leads up the Sutlej valley towards 
 Thibet, and plunged into the narrow path that led through the 
 forest straight down to the Sutlej some 6000 feet below. 
 
 The deodars just below Xarkanda are, I think, the finest we 
 saw anvwhere. Fire, the great enemy of all Indian forests which
 
 THE SNOWS FROM NARKANDA
 
 CHAP. I HIMALAYAN ROADS 17 
 
 SO often causes such havoc in the hot, dry summer months, has 
 spared these trees and also others at Bhagi on the Narkanda 
 ridge, until they have grown to an enormous size. I endeavoured 
 in vain to photograph them, but no lens would take in more than 
 a very small part of their size, and I was forced to give it up. 
 The tall rugged stems of these giants, weather-worn and battered, 
 the upper parts of which alone are clothed by their dark plumes, 
 are quite unlike the prim pyramids of the deodar in our English 
 gardens, and a still more hoary look is given to them by the long 
 streamers of grey moss and lichens which hang like beards down 
 the stems, the growth of last summer's rains. 
 
 We were soon out of the forest, and exchanged its soft earthen 
 path for a ravine of small boulders which served to carry the 
 surplus waters, as well as weary travellers, down the steep hill. 
 After an hour or two of this our feet were almost knocked to 
 pieces, and we gladly left it to make an excursion with our guns 
 after a covey of chikor partridges which had flown temptingly over 
 our heads as we tumbled down the rough path. They come down 
 from the hills above to feed on the terraced fields near the villages, 
 and generally afford a shot or two, which, if successful, Ijring a 
 welcome change to the evening's dinner. 
 
 We got on to our road again and floundered down the water- 
 course of jagged stones set at an angle of 45° until at last the 
 hamlet of Komarsen came in sight, and we halted for lunch under 
 a big tree. The saises lead the ponies off into the shade and 
 cover them with their rugs; Badulla, the table -servant, produces 
 out of his basket some slices of cold meat and chupattis — for we 
 have got beyond the reach of bread — which, with a little whisky 
 and water, make up our midday meal. Earn Jas, the Brahman 
 kalassi, who has constituted himself coat-carrier, brings up these 
 necessary coverings after our hot walk in thin khaki -coloured 
 cotton clothes, and we sit down to enjoy our well-earned rest. 
 
 Nainu and Eaganathu, the two gun -bearers, who form the 
 remainder of our party, have already retired to a shady place and 
 
 c
 
 18 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 have lit a fire, round which they are all soon squatting. A pipe is 
 made by taking the broad leaf of a creeper and bending it into a 
 funnel-shaped cone, which is then pinned together with a pine 
 needle. Into the wide end of tliis some black treacly tobacco is 
 put, with a glowing ember from the fire upon it ; this cone-shaped 
 pipe-bowl being placed between the finger and the thumb of the 
 closed left hand. Using the right hand, which is placed against 
 the left, as a pipe-stem, Nainu takes two long whiffs of the fragrant 
 weed w4th evident satisfaction, and passes the extempore pipe-bowl 
 round the circle, wliere it is drawn upon in turn until its contents 
 are burnt out. In this way they all economically get some satis- 
 faction out of one pipeful, without the necessity — to them an im- 
 possible one — of touching another man's pipe with their lips. 
 Xatives never eat anything in the middle of the day, and mostly 
 reserve their energies in this respect for their evening meal, but 
 on the wliole they eat far less than we do. 
 
 After a good midday's rest, we are ready again. It is wonder- 
 fully pleasant, is this continual glorious weather, this continual 
 fresh air, this continual absence of cloud and wind. One is always 
 hungry, one is always honestly tired at the end of the day, and, 
 if the air is not too rarefied, one always sleeps well. 
 
 AVe have come to the conclusion that the water-course we 
 have been marching down all the morning is a native road, for at 
 Komarsen we struck into what was evidently an English-made 
 one, which for the honour of our country we felt obliged to follow, 
 though implored by the servants not to do so. The Public Works 
 Department engineers, who stray into these out-of-the-way parts, 
 have a passion for exhibiting tlieir capacity for laying out roads 
 at a minimum gradient, quite regardless of the somewhat element- 
 ary fact that the only advantage of a gentle gradient is to enable 
 you to increase your speed upon it. Now as there are no wheels 
 in tlie country, the speed is limited to one's power of walking, so 
 these monuments of English engineering are never used by any- 
 body, for the natives are so extraordinarily stupid, that they fail
 
 ENGLISH ENGINEERING 
 
 19 
 
 to see why they should be carried three miles out of the way in 
 every two they want to go. 
 
 The servants, true to their instincts, went down the short cut, 
 while we in our pride walked and walked, for what seemed hours, 
 in and out of ravines, round projecting spurs and back again until we 
 were almost giddy, all tlie time with the view of our little white 
 tents pitched cosily in the hollow below, in front of which we 
 could see our seivants, long since arrived, spreading the tea we so 
 
 
 CAMP KITCHEN 
 
 much wanted. At last, as we never seemed to get any nearer, we 
 put our pride in our pockets, and leaving the grass-grown road to 
 its own wanderings, took the first short cut, and ran down to 
 the camp, which was pitched at a delightful spot about a couple 
 of hundred feet above the great Sutlej, that had been lying like 
 a great green snake in the deep valley below us all the afternoon. 
 
 We found quite an imposing array of tents here, for St.G.'s 
 babu or clerk had turned up with his complement in addition to 
 our own.
 
 20 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part I 
 
 Nothing can be more comfortable than well-arranged camp life 
 in India, the chief factor in which is that best of abodes, the " field- 
 officer's Kabul tent." No thin and flimsy hot-in-summer, cold-in- 
 winter aflair that we associate with the word " tent " in England, but 
 a little house nine feet by eight, with an outer fly covering the whole 
 of the inner tent, and keeping it both warm and cool, as required. 
 The inner tent is thick and soft, and is lined with a yellow or 
 blue rough cotton which takes away all glare, while the ground is 
 covered with a bright-striped carpet. Laced to the end of the tent 
 is a semicircular bathroom, which contains the portable washing- 
 stand, etc., the tent itself being furnished with a camp-bed, a fold- 
 ing table and chair. Pockets are sewn into the tent round the 
 sides, into which clothes or anything else can be put, and a ring of 
 hooks surrounds the tent poles from which one's wardrobe most 
 conveniently hangs. Nothing could be more convenient and 
 cosy ; there is just a place for everything, and everything is in 
 its place. 
 
 The day ends soon after our arrival in camp. The table is 
 spread, St.G.'s chair is brought into my tent, the lamp lit, and 
 Ave sit down to an excellent diner de Paris of soup, a brace of 
 roast partridges, curry and rice, and an omelet, served noiselessly 
 and quickly by the barefooted Badulla. There is nothing to remind 
 us that we are anywhere out of the world but the incessant 
 thundering of the Sutlej outside. We stroll out after dinner 
 into the lovely starlit night, to where the lines of mules are 
 munching their hay as they stand picketed on the narrow terraces 
 below our tents. All around are the numerous glowing fires of 
 the servants, mule-men, chaprassis, kalassis, and saises ; for each 
 class at least, if not each man, has its own fire, at which they 
 cook their chupattis of flour and water, and round which they 
 squat. The tents are lit up by the flickering lights ; the aromatic 
 smell of the burning deodar wood fills the still night air, the roar 
 of the great river below as it dashes over the rocks on its way to 
 the far-distant sea rises and falls, while the big black mountains
 
 '^ 
 
 LOOKING DOWN INTO THE SUTLEJ VALLEY FROM KOMARSEN
 
 CHAP. I GEOSSING THE SUTLEJ 21 
 
 shut us in on every side, and make a frame to the picture before 
 us ; and as one lies in one's narrow camp-bed and all outside is 
 hushed except the voice of the river, life seems to become a very 
 simple and true thing,, a feeling that Nature is our nearest step to 
 God and Truth comes over us, till after the hard day's walk sleep 
 creeps gently over our thoughts and blots out all. 
 
 I was up in time next morning to photograph the camp before 
 the bustle of striking the tents began, but not before the kulis 
 who had been sent down by the Rana of Komarsen had arrived. 
 They squatted in circles round their fires, patiently waiting until 
 the order should come for them to take up their burdens. 
 
 The peacefulness of these hill men is wonderful. They are much 
 more like dwellers upon the plains than mountaineers, and though 
 they have probably never even seen a soldier, and certainly have never 
 heard a shot fired in anger, yet they accept the white man's orders 
 with meek submission and obedience. The carrying of arms or 
 weapons of any sort is a thing never dreamed of in these hills, for 
 they have no danger from external enemies, and are too cowardly 
 by nature to fight amongst themselves.^ It is difficult to account 
 for this want of manly vigour, which spreads through the Hima- 
 layas from Kashmir to the boundary of fighting Nepal. Prob- 
 ably they were originally plains men, who have gradvially spread 
 up the valleys, where, protected from all external foes, they have 
 never been forced by any increasing want to forage for their needs. 
 The soil is very fertile, and with the excellent climate, they have 
 always had an abundance to satisfy the simplicity of life that they 
 still retain. 
 
 A big river is a glorious thing, and we hastened down to the 
 bridge over the great Sutlej, which here is narrowed between 
 high banks, forming a deep, dark-green pool above a foaming 
 rapid. In the many miles that it has come from the glaciers at 
 its source, it has lost all the grey appearance of snow-water, and 
 
 ^ By the Arms Act of India, the carrying of arms of any sort by natives without 
 a license is prohibited throughout British territorj'.
 
 22 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 has acquired a curious solid green appearance, which is rather 
 unlike a mountain river. 
 
 We watched long strings of wooden sleepers from the deodar 
 forests up the valley, which were continually floating by, plunging 
 and tossing down the rapids, and then resting a little as they eddied 
 into the backwaters of the deep pools, until venturing too rashly 
 they were caught again and swept along their downward course. 
 Many seemed quite reluctant to leave their beloved mountains and 
 clung despairingly to any projecting ledge of rock or bank of sand, 
 until the next comer, somewhat ruthlessly bumping them off, drove 
 them again into the deep water on their way to the hot and dusty 
 plains, where for the rest of their lives they were to bear the 
 continual burden of the Sahibs' iron horse. 
 
 We saw our retinue scramble down the precipitous bank and 
 cross the river by the narrow native bridge that here spans it. 
 Then they gathered themselves together on the farther bank for 
 the steep climb of nearly 4000 feet that was between them and 
 their night's rest, and we, mounting our ponies, led the army 
 to the attack, and happily soon distanced them, for the dust made 
 by the scrambling mules is at times suffocating. 
 
 The side of the mountain we were now going up was character- 
 istically in contrast to the one we had come down from Narkanda. 
 If the latter was shady and green with forests and vegetation, our 
 present climb, being on the southern face of the hill, was over a 
 bare and glaring slope, not a tree to be seen, only baked brown 
 rocks and sun-dried grass for every step of the way. The path, a 
 fairly good one, zigzags up in endless turns very steeply over this 
 parched soil, on which, here and there, the trace of an Englishman's 
 hand is seen in his endeavours to get some miserable saplings to 
 grow in order to shade the passer-by. The few that have survived 
 the burning summer sun seem to have become a prey to the active 
 goats in search of food; for the improvident native has mostly 
 taken the stakes with which they were guarded, to kindle the fire 
 for his evening meal, wondering, no doubt, why the Sahib should
 
 CHAP. I THE ROAD BUNGALOW 23 
 
 have been so considerate as to prepare fuel for him at such an 
 out-of-the-way spot. 
 
 We slept that night at Dahirsh bungalow, a solitary, lonely, 
 tumble-down edifice of two rooms and a verandah, which stands, 
 roughly speaking, on the brow of the first steep rise out of th 
 Sutlej valley ; and from here we were to march, at a somewhai 
 more gradual ascent, to the top of the Jalaori Pass, two days 
 farther on, from which we were to descend to the Kulu waters. 
 
 These little road bungalows have been built by the Govern- 
 ment along the main roads through the hills. They are in 
 various states of repair and mostly consist of two primitive white- 
 washed rooms — possibly no ceiling — and a detached little cooking- 
 house. For furniture they possess in each room a wooden bed- 
 stead, a rough native-made table and chair, and a printed set of 
 rules governing the use and abuse of the Punjab bungalows, duly 
 signed by the Assistant Commissioner. 
 
 On arrival, the chowkidar, or village watchman, is sent for, 
 who, after a considerable delay, produces the keys, unlocks the 
 doors, and gives out of a cupboard the few odd plates and cups 
 that comprise the table service, which have of course to be supple- 
 mented with your own. On leaving next morning, the Govern- 
 ment visitors' book is brought, in which you enter your name, 
 together with the inevitable growl about the general dilapidation 
 and dirt of this Government institution, paying a charge of 8 
 annas (about 8d.) for each person so entered. It is an excellent 
 and cheap system of facilitating travel, for a European is always 
 glad to have a roof over his head, even though there is a hole in 
 it ; and on a few lines of road, where there are bungalows at every 
 stage, tents may altogether be dispensed with, providing this road 
 is adhered to. 
 
 We were glad to get away from this spot and to see the last of 
 the hot Sutlej valley, for on leaving Dalarsh the road goes over a 
 crest and takes you into the upper part of a valley that leads up 
 to the Jalaori — a valley well wooded, with immense slopes of
 
 24 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 terraced cultivation, testifying to the patient labour of hundreds 
 of years. 
 
 These terraces where the ground is steep are often not more 
 than six or eight feet wide, and will in places extend without a 
 break, for a fall of two or three thousand feet, giving the whole 
 movmtain side the appearance of a cultivated garden. The lower 
 terraces, where water can be brought to irrigate, grow rice and 
 wheat, and higher up the hillside the green millet, the yellow 
 pulse, and crimson amaranth form bands of colour that lead right 
 up to the dark pine forests above. 
 
 On these vast slopes the hamlets, looking very small owing to 
 the great distance they are below, are dotted about, evidencing 
 the peaceful prosperity of the peasantry who dwell in them. 
 
 Incidents on such a road as this are few and far between. We 
 walked or rode quietly along the track, which keeps along at 
 this high level and does not drop into the valley, winding in and 
 out of the spurs, which are as steep as they can be without being 
 cliffs. Often in riding along, one's outside foot is dangled over a 
 depth that makes one turn one's head away ; but my tiny Spiti 
 pony, whom we christened The White Eat, climbed like a fly up a 
 window pane, and I gave up minding where my feet were, as long- 
 as he was satisfied about his own. These hill ponies think nothing 
 of steps and loose boulders, and, I fancy, would mount a ladder 
 without much difficulty, if put to it. 
 
 We camped again at Chawai, and next day continued on to 
 Kot, the last village below the pass. 
 
 The country had been growing prettier and prettier ; the broken 
 ravines each contained a mountain stream, which was fringed 
 with maiden -hair fern; the beautiful forests filled with deodar, 
 tosh {Pinus ivchbiana), and kail {Pinus cxcehd), with here and there 
 a strip of crimson amaranth to give a dasli of colour, formed 
 many a pleasant picture. 
 
 We rode up the last steep rise into Kot somewhat late in the 
 afternoon — for we liad risen to a height of 7800 feet — and were
 
 CULTIVATED HILLSIDE NEAR CHAWAI
 
 CHAP. I THE JALAOJRI PASS 25 
 
 delighted with the situation of the little wooden alpine village 
 on its pine -covered spur, which juts out into the deep valleys 
 on either side. A little carved wooden temple stands embosomed 
 in some deodars of great age, and just above it the road bungalow 
 is picturesquely placed, under the spreading pines. 
 
 We could not resist the temptation of spending an extra day 
 here, especially as we were anxious if possible to get to the top of 
 the pass soon after sunrise, in order that we might photograph the 
 snows before the morning clouds had time to form upon them. It 
 would have been impossible to get our camp under weigh at that 
 early hour, so we gave the men a holiday; and at five o'clock 
 next morning St.G. and I mounted our ponies, and accompanied 
 only by our two gun-bearers and my camera-man, started away 
 and pushed up the 3000 feet to the top of the pass in under 
 two hours. Not bad going, for though the path is a good one, it 
 is very steep in places. However, the ponies never stopped for a 
 moment, and our men by taking all short cuts easily kept up 
 with us. The morning air was chilly in the forests, for the sun 
 had not yet penetrated them, and we looked in vain for a sight 
 of a bear, though the many broken and overturned boughs of the 
 evergreen oaks show^ed that they had not been far off; but our 
 friend Bhdlu is a great traveller, and moves rapidly from place to 
 place, so that one is frequently disappointed in searching for him 
 on his hunting-grounds. We reached tlie upper edge of the forest 
 at last, and hurried in all eagerness on to the top of the narrow 
 ridge, over which we were to see the promised land, Kulu. 
 
 It must be confessed that we were rather disappointed ! The 
 country is so enormous that though we had been marching for nine 
 days towards the snows, they still were a long way off, and seemed 
 indeed to be scarcely much closer to us than they did at Simla. 
 
 The summit of the pass is 10,600 feet above the sea, about the 
 height of the Matterjoch at Zermatt, but unlike that pass it has 
 no snow on it at this season of the year, the ground being covered 
 with a short, brown grass. That we were not the first persons who
 
 26 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 had been here, was shown by the ruined forts which are built 
 along the ridge, the walls of which can be traced in the heaps of 
 stones that lie on the ground. How and when these forts were 
 built it is impossible to say, but they exist in considerable numbers 
 along these high lidges between the Sutlej and the Beds rivers. 
 Except that they are on the tops of the ridges, they do not seem 
 to have any strategic connection with each other, and it is difficult 
 to realise against what people they could have been held. The 
 height they are up, and the distance they are from any cultivated 
 land, must have made the question of supplies very difficult, though 
 they evidently provided themselves with water by catching the rain 
 and the snow in the deep pits that are seen in the ground beside 
 the now ruined walls. 
 
 The prospect from the summit is rather uninteresting, there 
 being no very prominent peaks at all close, but the view over the 
 forests through which we have come, with Kot and other little 
 hamlets far down below, is very extensive. On the Kulu side 
 of the pass the road drops into a narrow enclosed valley, which 
 prevents any idea being got of the country beyond. 
 
 Still there was the glorious sense of height and freedom in the 
 clear fresh air as we rested for some time on the stones of the 
 ruined fort watching some beautiful monal pheasants, which, for 
 their sins, have been burdened with the name of Loplwphorus 
 Impeyanus. They w^ere feeding on the ground about a hundred 
 yards below us, three hens and a cock, the latter in all the glory 
 of his metallic blue-and-gold coat. In shape he is an ungraceful 
 bird, being no true pheasant but more after the pattern of a 
 turkey, still as regards his plumage he is the most gorgeous of all 
 Indian birds. His head is ornamented with an upright tuft of 
 shining green feathers. The head itself, neck, back, wing coverts, 
 and upper tail coverts are all one sheen of dark metallic blue 
 and green, while on his neck, by way of variety, a flush of copper- 
 coloured feathers gives him a dazzling appearance. The liens are 
 a modest brown.
 
 CHAP. I MONAL PHEASANTS 27 
 
 We took our guns and crept cautiously down, making a long 
 detour to get between them and the forest below ; but most un- 
 fortunately, just as we were reaching our goal, a hen that we had 
 not seen, flew up and with a shrill whistle alarmed her friends, 
 who, with outspread wings, dropped down the steep slope into the 
 protection of the forest below, long out of range. 
 
 We stayed two or three hours on the top enjoying the warmth 
 of the sun, which now began to shine down hotly through the 
 rarefied air. Even at this height in the Himalayas one often 
 feels the thinness of the air — no doubt partly because of the 
 extreme stillness of the atmosphere, which so rarely fans the 
 exhausted climber. But it seems often to vary unaccountably 
 with the day, and to be somewhat independent of the exact 
 elevation one is on. 
 
 As we sat quietly identifying the snowy peaks on our map, a 
 sudden crowing made us turn round, and there close to us was 
 an old chikor cock, perched upon the highest stone of the fort, 
 announcing himself in his pride to his lady friends below. Birds 
 are unsophisticated in these parts, and have not yet learnt due 
 respect for man. This familiarity was too much for us ; so, slipping 
 quietly down the hill, we went round to the side that he was 
 overlooking and there flushed the covey, getting a nice brace of 
 birds for our evening meal. Cold though it had been riding up in 
 our sheepskin coats, we found our thin khaki cotton clothes 
 almost too hot as we ran down through the woods to Kot again, 
 leaving the path several times to make excursions after the chikor, 
 which we met returning up the hill after their morning's feed on 
 the villagers' crops. These birds, which in no way are to be 
 distinguished from the lYench red-legged partridge, are great 
 runners ; and a large covey running uphill over broken and stony 
 ground has all the appearance of a number of rabbits bolting in 
 and out of their holes. 
 
 After an early breakfast next morning, the usual packing-up 
 began, the rest of the previous day having put all the men into good
 
 28 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 spirits. All the bundles were laid out in lines on the little grass 
 plot before the bungalow, while the kulis all squatted near await- 
 ing the order to take them up, the mules seizing the opportunity 
 of a few moments' freedom to wander about in every one's way as 
 they nibbled the short sweet grass. 
 
 The custom of the country is that on giving notice, generally 
 twenty-four hours previously, to the lumbadar, or headman of a 
 village, he is obliged to supply you with the kulis you require, and, 
 providing the number you ask for is not more than about twenty, 
 they are generally forthcoming at the time you wish to start. 
 They each carry any weight not exceeding 70 lbs., and are re- 
 munerated at the Government rate of four or six annas (4d. or 6d.), 
 according to the length of the stage. In these mountain villages 
 they do not take the trouble to send a messenger round to collect 
 the kulis, but in the evening, as you stand at your tent door 
 watching the brilliant stars sparkling in the dark vault overhead, 
 with only the sound of the torrent far, far down below you to break 
 the stillness, you hear suddenly a long-drawn call, " ddd-o kuliddd," 
 very melodiously shouted out into the dark night by the watchman 
 standing on some prominent rock overhanging the valley. Away 
 over the deep valley travels the call, telling the villagers that they 
 will be wanted next morning. Again and again the call resounds, 
 and now it is taken up by the villages beneath, until it is carried 
 from hamlet to hamlet like a prolonged echo, which faintly dies 
 away in the dark depths below us. 
 
 The whole scene is most poetical, and the simple homely lives 
 of these peasants, who appear next morning obedient to the call, 
 comes vividly before one. It was with reluctance that we started 
 away from Kot and crossed the Jalaori Pass again ; but we had to 
 hurry on if we wished to reach the higher ground before the first 
 snow fell, and a long march was before us till we got down to Jibbi, 
 the first village over the other side of the range, when we might 
 consider ourselves in Kulu, although the real Kulu valley lies some 
 marches farther on.
 
 The distiict of Kulii, to 
 which oui steps were now 
 taking us, has always been 
 celebiated amongst Hima- 
 layan valleys on account of 
 the loinantic beauty of its 
 sceneiy, as well as for the 
 charm of its inhabitants, and 
 there is no doubt that, as 
 Himalayan valleys go, it 
 fully deserves its reputa- 
 tion ; and though it is visited 
 by comparatively few tra- 
 vellers on account of its 
 inaccessibility, in respect of 
 alpine scenery it can quite 
 hold its own with Kashmir. 
 The Kulu valley proper 
 is composed of the first fifty miles of the river Beds, one of the 
 five rivers of the Punjab, and lies, roughly speaking, about one 
 
 i* w 
 
 HER majesty's MAILS
 
 30 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 hundred miles due north of Simla, in the centre of the broken 
 Himalayas. The main valley, running north and south, follows 
 the Beds from its source to the point near Larji, where its course 
 suddenly turns due west, and enters the native state of Mandi 
 through a vast gorge, which completely bars any approach from 
 this side. 
 
 A range of mountains commencing with 20,000 feet peaks 
 and falling to 15,000 and 10,000 feet, closely borders this high 
 valley on the western side, while the eastern bank of the Beas is 
 fed by several large streams, which descend from more broken and 
 still higher ground, including the Parbati, with its valley some 35 
 miles long, the Sainj, and the Chata, both of which latter meet the 
 Beas at Larji. 
 
 The valley, thus shut in on all sides, can be entered only by 
 crossing one of five passes, the lowest of which is 6700 feet high. 
 Entering from the south, you have the choice of the Jalaori and 
 the Bashleo Passes, both of which are 10,600 feet above the sea 
 and are crossed by paths leading from the Sutlej valley into the 
 waters of the Chata. There is not much to choose between these 
 two, though the first is perhaps the best road, as well as the nearest 
 for any one approaching from Simla. 
 
 Prom the west, which would be the easiest route to any one 
 entering from the plains, two passes lead from Mandi state directly 
 into the valley — the Dolchi, 6700 feet, which drops down to 
 Bajaora, and the Bablni, 9400 feet, which brings the traveller 
 directly into Sultanpur, the capital. 
 
 Few are likely to approach Kulu from the north, but there 
 are two passes at the head of the valley, which lead over into the 
 barren and desolate districts of Lahaul and Spiti ; these are the 
 Hamta, 14,500 feet, and the Piotang, 13,300 feet. All these passes 
 are closed by snow in January, February, and March, while the 
 hio-her ones are often not available until May or June. The east 
 side of Kulu is completely shut in by a tangled mass of huge 
 mountains, over 20,000 feet high, which border on the dreary
 
 CHAP. II ROADS TO KULU 31 
 
 wastes of Spiti, and over which no communication is possible even 
 for the shepherds with their hardy flocks. 
 
 In the Eotang Pass the river Beds takes its rise, and, falling 
 rapidly at first, meets its first village at Eala, and from there 
 tumbles headlong through the high alpine valley. At Man;ili, some 
 7000 feet above the sea, the area of cultivation extends as tlie fall of 
 the river becomes less rapid, and from Nagar, 5700 feet, to Bajaora, 
 3300 feet, every available spot in the valley bottom and on the 
 lower slopes of the mountains is devoted to the cultivation of 
 luxuriant crops. 
 
 In the centre of this rich belt lies Sultanpur, the capital of 
 Kulu, the only town in a district where the villages would be 
 better designated as hamlets, consisting, as they do, mostly of a 
 few comfortable peasants' houses clustered together. 
 
 It will thus be seen that the upper valley, above Nagar, has all 
 the characteristics of high alpine scenery, while from there down- 
 wards the homely peacefulness of extended cultivation, the numerous 
 hamlets dotted all over the valley, from the grass-thatched mud hut 
 on the flat ground to the stone-roofed wooden chalet on the mountain 
 side, all betoken the peace and prosperity of a people who, if their 
 wants are few, have at any rate an abundance to satisfy them. 
 
 Somewhat distinct again in character is the valley of the 
 Parbati, which joins the Beas valley in a narrow gorge a few miles 
 below Sultanpur. This mountain torrent with its feeders flows 
 through the district known as Wazi'ri Eupi, a long but narrow 
 valley, enclosed on all sides by mountains of enormous size. The 
 two gate-posts on either side of the mouth are over 12,000 feet in 
 height, while the chain of peaks surrounding it rise to 17,000, 
 18,000, 20,000, and 21,000 feet as you go up the stream, forming 
 a complete cnl-dc-sac, the only entrance to which is from the main 
 Kulu valley, either up the Parbati torrent or over the high 
 Malauna Pass.^ 
 
 ^ Since writing the above I have heard from Colonel Tanner, whose beautiful 
 monochrome drawings of these Himalayan peaks are so well known, that a passage
 
 32 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 Shut in as it thus is ou all sides, it is no wonder that Kulu 
 was always regarded as the Ultima Thule of the Hindus. The 
 earlier wanderers from the plains below, no doubt, made their way 
 up here in search of an easier means of subsistence ; but no great 
 wave of immigration has ever been recorded, and the people as 
 they are found now are no doubt tlie descendants of the original 
 settlers. Cut off from their relations and co-religionists in the 
 plains, they have naturally developed into a different people in 
 appearance and in customs ; but their own traditions go back into 
 the dim distance of Hindu mythology, to an Homeric age when 
 Purus Earn lived with the gods and ruled these valleys with their 
 help and countenance. Coming down to a more reasonable date, 
 we find that in Jagat Singh's reign, in 1660, the capital was trans- 
 ferred from Sultanpur to Kagar, and many immigrants came up 
 from the plains to settle under his prosperous rule ; and in Eaja 
 Maun Singh's time, at the end of the eighteenth century, the 
 influence of the Kulu rulers spread from Lahaul and Spiti on one 
 side nearly to Simla ou the other. 
 
 But this prosperity did not last long. No great hold can be 
 kept upon a scattered people separated by such lofty mountains 
 and deep valleys. Internal dissensions caused them to fall apart 
 as easily as they had been brought together ; and the Sikhs from 
 the Punjab, without any great difficulty on their part, took over 
 the government of the valley, granting the suzerainty of Waziri 
 Eupi to an ancestor of the present Eai. 
 
 "With the defeat of the Sikhs and the annexation of the Punjab 
 by us, this outlying portion of their dominions fell under our 
 control without any disturbance in 1846, and since then it has 
 been administered by an Assistant Commissioner, as a part of 
 British territory. Only on one occasion have any troops of ours 
 visited the valley, and this was some years ago, when a mountain 
 
 was made some years ago from Spiti to the head waters of the Parbati by a member 
 of the Bengal Civil Service. The pass was described as very high and extremely 
 arduous.
 
 CHAP. II THE GOVERNORS OF KULU 33 
 
 battery was inarched through, partly to exercise the mules and 
 partly to remind the peaceful inhabitants that such things as 
 soldiers really did exist. 
 
 For many years after it came under our rule the valley was 
 left entirely m charge of a native tehsildar, or magistrate, the 
 Assistant Commissioner visiting it only during the summer months, 
 and leaving again before the snow fell on the passes. During this 
 short time he was naturally unable to visit more than the valley 
 itself, although his political district covered an area of 6000 square 
 miles of mountainous country, with a population of 100,000, 
 embracing the countries of Kulu, Lahaul, Spiti, and Seoraj. Since 
 1870, however, the Assistant Commissioner has resided continuously 
 at his post, to the great advantage of his charge ; for, with the 
 forest officer and an engineer, he is the sole English official in this 
 area, which approaches in size that of Wales. Isolated as it is in 
 the vast ranges of the Himalayas, this post of Assistant Com- 
 missioner in Kulu is an instance of the independent responsibility 
 placed by the Government of India on the shoulders of its young 
 officials — a trust which has produced, in the Punjab alone, such 
 names as Lawrence, Nicholson, Edwardes, and Lyall. The English 
 character is certainly seen at its best in independent resource and 
 action, and there are few responsible positions in the world where 
 a man has such freedom to think out and carry out the ideas 
 he has developed, as he has in these subordinate posts in the 
 Indian Civil Service. It is the finest training-school for rulers of 
 men that the world has ever seen. 
 
 Placed here in Kulu in charge of a population of one hundred 
 thousand souls, belonging to different creeds, customs and languages, 
 he is told to be their ruler, their judge, their guide, their friend, 
 and above all to teach them by his example the full meaning of a 
 white face. On the Kuram side of the Punjab the subjects are 
 warlike, and though here in Kulu the people are weak and peace- 
 able, yet in both cases the same impartial judgment, the same tact 
 is required to ensure success. 
 
 1)
 
 34 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 Nowhere is virtue more its own reward than in Kuki. The 
 amelioration of his district and his people is directly in the power 
 and under the eye of their ruler. He orders a bridge to be built 
 one day, it is carried out under his eye on the next, and on the 
 third day he and his subjects enjoy the benefit of it. 
 
 IJut though the responsibility is the same, how different are 
 the conditions of life here and on the Frontier. A most delightful 
 climate, temperate in winter and not too hot in summer, Nagar 
 Castle, the Assistant Commissioner's home, at a height of nearly 6000 
 feet above the sea, is one of the pleasantest residences imaginable. 
 The views down the broad Kulu valley on one side and up to the 
 snow mountains on the other are all that the most exacting lover 
 of scenery could wish for. Though far from the outer world, all 
 the necessary comforts are obtainable and supplies are ahvays at 
 hand. The people around are gentle and well disposed, and the 
 Assistant Commissioner travels from one end of his little kingdom 
 to the other with no greater protection than the stick in his hand. 
 Many things that make life pleasant are to be found in the valley : 
 health, climate, scenery, and sport, all amid a quiet and peaceable 
 population, who have much that is interesting about them, and 
 who, though not always accommodating to strangers, are certainly 
 far too cowardly to resist any demands made upon them by their 
 white lord and master. 
 
 From the top of the Jalaori Pass, then, we looked over the 
 mass of broken ground and confused ridges amongst which we 
 were going to spend the next two months, and watched our long 
 train of mules and kulis winding down the narrow path and 
 disappearing into the wooded ravine just below us. 
 
 The top of the ridge, strangely enough, is bare of trees all 
 along, the ruins of the forts standing exposed along the crest. 
 Taking our guns we walked along this open ridge for some distance, 
 to see if the chikor had yet come up to the high ground after 
 their morning meal in the crops below, and found our friends the 
 beautiful monal again at home. It seemed a pity to shoot such
 
 CHAP. 11 NEED OF GAME LA TVS 35 
 
 handsome birds, which are at the best but poor eating, and which 
 are such an ornament to the ground they are found on. As it is, 
 their numbers are sadly diminishing, owing to the persistence 
 with which they are snared by the paharis, who, for the profit of a 
 few annas, sell the gorgeous skins to some trader, who in turn 
 carries them off to the plains to be converted into rupees. Here, as 
 elsewhere, all lovers of Nature cry to Government to enforce a simple 
 game law which would afford protection to birds and animals 
 during their breeding season. Nothing can be more sad than the 
 wholesale and unsportsmanlike destruction of animal life, in season 
 and out of season, that nearly all over India is threatening the 
 extermination of life in the jungles. Besides despoiling the 
 jungles of their beautiful inhabitants, these would-be sportsmen 
 are literally slaughtering the goose that lays them the golden eggs. 
 We ran down into the pine -woods after the kulis over the 
 frosty ground, for at this height of over 10,000 feet the shady 
 sides of the hills are chilly enough, and we were glad to warm 
 ourselves by a somewhat rapid descent. 
 
 Our camping place this night was to be Jibbi, a little Eoad 
 Bungalow some six miles from the top of the pass, and some four 
 thousand feet below it, so that the descent on this side of the pass is 
 more rapid than that on the side up which we had come. As we 
 got down into the wooded glens the pine trees became finer, many 
 an old weather-beaten giant blackened with fire standing beside 
 the path, the forest having all the delights of a high alpine valley, 
 in which the torrent below us increased in volume at every step, 
 in its tumbling headlong course. 
 
 We halted for lunch in a pleasant glade where the sun broke 
 through the trees, and were glad here, as always, to put on our 
 coats before sitting down ; and as we ate our frugal meal, the 
 distant jingling of some bells announced the approach of that 
 emblem of civilisation, the mail-runner. For some reason or other, 
 his wand of oflice, all over India, is a short spear, the head of 
 which is surrounded by a number of little bells. The spear, no
 
 36 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 doubt, is a weapon of defence against the attacks of wild animals, 
 but the only use I ever heard for the bells, was as a peg upon 
 which to liang that excellent tiger story, where the crafty beast 
 lay nightly in wait for the jingling sound of the unconscious 
 mail-man. 
 
 In the summer-time, before the snow has closed the pass, the 
 mail-bag is carried over the Jalaori to Simla, each runner doing 
 his few miles and then handing the bag on to tlie next, who comes 
 down from his village and awaits it on the road. No guard of 
 any kind accompanies it, but the inviolability of Her Majesty's 
 mail seems never to be questioned, until, after passing through 
 many rough hands, up hill and down dale, it is deposited on the 
 floor of the Simla post-oftice. 
 
 The first hamlet we came to, a few miles farther down through 
 the pine-woods, was Gaghi, a picturesque collection of wooden 
 chalets, with shingle roofs, upon which great stones were laid, just 
 as one sees in a Swiss mountain village. The ground about the 
 village was terraced as usual, and the balconies and roofs of the 
 houses were laden with the drying crops, great masses of crimson 
 amaranth and yellow millet. 
 
 We stopped to watch the harvest operations. Four little 
 black bullocks were being driven abreast, in the primeval fashion, 
 round and round a central pole upon the smooth nmd threshing- 
 floor, wading through the yellow straw, and stopping now and then 
 to nibble some prominent ear, until urged on agam by the quick 
 " Hutt, hutt " and simulated tail-twisting of the boy driver. Hard 
 by, a woman was thrashing out with a long stick the tiny grain 
 from a large heap of amaranth, which was in turn winnowed by a 
 man who held the basket of grain aloft, and poured it gently from 
 this height, whereby the chaff was scattered by the passing breeze, 
 and the grain fell in one large golden heap. 
 
 They were much amused by my attempts at photographing 
 them, no doubt wondering why on earth the Sahib was wrapping 
 his head up in a black velvet cloth. They seemed, however, to
 
 JIBBI
 
 CHAP. II XAINU AS A PHOTOGRAPHER 37 
 
 understand that they were about to be immortalised, for the women 
 blushed and smiled in full consciousness of the stare of the lens, 
 while the men stood, as usual, in a stiff row, as if about to meet 
 their doom. 
 
 Nainu was invaluable on these occasions, for there is nothing 
 that an ignorant native has more contempt for than ignorance in 
 another of something he has just learnt himself. His language, it 
 is true, would not have been quite in place in a "West End studio, 
 but it was to the point. 
 
 " foolish ones, why stand ye thus in a row ? Cannot ye see, 
 O sons of asses that ye are, that the Sahib wishes to make your 
 pictures ? you ! stand here. Hold this stick so, and move not. 
 Good ! Another man is needed. Here, mud-head, hold this 
 basket like this, and let the grain fall gently to the ground. 
 Enough, so. Let the women beat the millet. It is perfect. Now, 
 all men, move not. Is not the arrangement complete, Sahib ? " 
 
 Needless to say, the arrangement was much too complete, 
 since any natural ease and grace they possessed was driven out of 
 them by the stiff and wood-like positions in which they found 
 themselves for the first time in their lives. 
 
 Photography is an excellent school for patience, for, after all 
 has been carefully settled, one has often enough quietly to begin 
 again at the beginning. Happily, in India, to the native at any 
 rate, time is no object ; and his chief wonder always seems to be 
 that, after taking so long to get him into the right position, you 
 do not keep him standing there for half an hour at least. 
 
 I spent some time in the picturesque hamlet taking photographs. 
 The women, in strange contrast to those in other parts of India, 
 were not at all shy, and were quite ready to stand and have their 
 pictures taken, though rather disconcerted by the chaff of their 
 fellow-villagers present. Some of them were quite good-looking, 
 with well-shaped oval faces, but their rough, white blanket dresses 
 had evidently been so long away from water that I was not 
 tempted to make a closer acquaintance with them. For the 
 
 85995
 
 38 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE tart i 
 
 benefit of more enterprising travellers, however, I don't inind 
 divulging that the names of the two best-looking were Kuti and 
 Nerki. 
 
 A couple of miles more, down through a beautifully wooded 
 gorge, brought us to the Jibbi bungalow, which stands by the side 
 of the torrent in a grove of magnificent deodars, a most picturesque 
 spot. The hills rising steeply all round, being covered with forest, 
 promised some good sport during the days we were obliged to 
 spend here, as St.G. had the month's bills and accounts of his 
 survey party to make out — a somewhat uncongenial occupation 
 that kept him and his babu close prisoners for some days in the 
 office tent. 
 
 I found the men had pitched my tent on a small patch of grass 
 between a little stone chalet -temple and the bungalow^ which 
 together represent the ' town ' of Jibbi. St.G. took up his abode 
 in the bungalow, and the god not being at home, the temple was 
 invaded by our servants, and soon the smoke of their fires was 
 curling out from under the picturesque roof These village 
 temples, indeed, seem to be largely used as rest-houses by native 
 travellers, for there are very few serais where shelter can be 
 obtained by any one passing along these roads. 
 
 Nainu with my gun, Madho with my camera, and I with my 
 stick, started out next morning to explore, first crossing the torrent 
 upon a bridge formed of an immense single deodar, which had 
 fallen across the water from its high bank. The swirling, rushing 
 water beneath one is rather unsettling to one's composure on these 
 occasions, and several times I found my hands groping downwards 
 and my knees bending involuntarily in my anxiety to obtain a 
 better hold on the log. Natives, with their shoeless feet, have an 
 immense advantage on this sort of path, for every muscle of their 
 bare feet can be brought into play to balance their bodies, while 
 the flexible sole has not the fatal inclination to slip that is so 
 frequent in a stiff leather shooting-boot. 
 
 The question of footgear is one of the most important on a
 
 CHAP. II 
 
 FOOT GEAR 
 
 39 
 
 march like this into the Himalayas, as well as the most difficult 
 to solve satisfactorily. Except when near the snows, the ground 
 is always dry, but directly one leaves the path in search of game 
 one has to traverse either rocks, which are often enough smooth, 
 or what is still more dangerous, extremely steep slopes of short 
 dry grass, on which, so slippery are they, a foothold can scarcely 
 be kept unless one's boots are provided with a forest of good nails. 
 Such nailed boots, on the other hand, are most unsuitable and dan- 
 gerous upon the smooth rocks. I myself always wore the native- 
 made leather chapplis — sandals with thick leather soles, fastened 
 over the instep by a plat of straps, a chamois leather sock being 
 worn over the ordinary sock, to keep out dust and dirt. Nothing 
 could be more comfortable than these are on any rough or 
 rocky ground, owing to the freedom and play they allow to the 
 ankle, while, in order to give them a hold on the grass slopes, I 
 put a row of projecting screws all round the edge of the sole. 
 This is the way the Tirolese mountaineers nail their boots, and 
 they, no doubt, have taken 
 the idea from the chamois' 
 foot, the centre of which, 
 being a softer pad, prevents 
 the animal slipping on a 
 smooth rock, whereas the 
 outside edges of the hoofs 
 project in a sharp hard 
 ridge, which clings to the 
 crevice of a rock or cuts 
 sharply into soft yielding 
 earth, and by spreading or 
 closing his toes the chamois 
 is able to bring either of these footgears instantaneously into 
 use, according to the requirements of the ground that he for the 
 moment finds himself upon. The only alternative is to wear a 
 good pair of nailed shooting -boots, and to slip on over them, 
 
 GRASS SANUALS
 
 40 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 whenever you come to smooth rocks, a pair of the grass sandals 
 that the natives themselves use, and which they so cleverly plat 
 every morning that a new pair is required. 
 
 We soon found traces of the hlack kallidge pheasant (Gallopliasis 
 albo-ci'istatus), the cock of which is a handsome blue-black bird with 
 a grey crest, more the shape of a fowl than the pheasant, after which 
 lie is indeed misnamed. It is useless to pursue these birds alone, 
 for they would give a hare a start at running uphill and beat him, 
 so we sat down while Nainu was sent back for the dogs, and before 
 long the two spaniels came scampering up to us and were soon 
 making the woods resound with their loud barkings. Then the race 
 began. Encouraged by Topsy's and Nulty's tongues, which grew 
 sharper every moment as the scent grew hotter, we hastened after 
 them, already far above us. The forest was very thick and the hill- 
 side most precipitous, but we scrambled up as one only can when 
 in the pursuit of game, in all eager breathlessness, Nainu pushing 
 and pulling, stones clattering, branches cutting, now turning to 
 avoid a tangled mass, only to hurry up again with a supreme 
 effort through the more open trees. " Look, Sahib, where the 
 branches are thick — that big — " Bang ! echoes the shot with a loud 
 report under the enclosing trees, and down through the branches 
 flutters the heavy bird. " Come here, Topsy, come to heel ! Ah ! 
 Nulty, you brute, would you ? Eun quickly, Nainu, or there will 
 be no supper to-night " ; and soon he returns with the hand- 
 some bird, at which the dogs sniff admiringly. " Good old Topsy, 
 good dog, Nult ! " and we proceed more leisurely along the narrow 
 forest path, until the dogs summon us for a renewed scramble. 
 
 Passing at times through little hamlets, we were far up on the 
 mountain side by midday, and as I was sitting on a log eating my 
 lunch, Nainu and Madho squatting at a distance polluting the 
 fresh air with their noxious tobacco, an ominous rumble broke 
 out amongst the high ground up by the Jalaori, and soon the slow 
 but steady echoes, and an uneasy sigh of the wind through the 
 tall pines, told us that the giants were warring up amongst the
 
 DEODAR CEDARS AT JIBBI
 
 CHAP. II A STORM UNDER THE JALAORI 41 
 
 peaks, and warned us to seek shelter lower down. Before we had 
 got far, an earnest of the coming storm swept down upon us in a 
 chilly blast, which bowed the trees before the wreaths of cloud 
 that, like scouts, rode upon the front of the now freshening gusts. 
 Peal upon peal rolled down from above, at first in the glorious 
 majesty of reverberating echoes, and then, all too soon, in the 
 sharp and angry snarl which announces the near presence of the 
 God of Thunder himself. 
 
 It was not a case of shelter, however, for the cold was very 
 sharp at this height, and snow was falling not far above us, so we 
 raced down, heedless of the heavy drops which fell upon us and 
 the slippery paths, each of which now conducted its little muddy 
 stream to feed the torrent below. A storm in the mountains is a 
 glorious thing ; no dwellers in flat countries can have any idea of 
 the magnificent echoes awakened, which, repeatedly fed by new 
 crashes, roll down the mountain side, only to be thrown back with 
 a fresh roar from the steep hill opposite, until the whole air is 
 trembling with the billows of sound. Long before we reached the 
 bottom we were drenched through by the rain and driving mists, 
 not to mention the steady stream which poured from the brim of 
 my hat on to my knees at every step. By the time we got to the 
 torrent, it was already thick and muddy with its swollen waters, 
 and on stepping on to the big pine which served as a bridge, I 
 was glad to have the help of Nainu's hand in crossing its slippery 
 surface. 
 
 A change into warm dry clothes and a glass of whisky soon 
 put me to rights, and as for Nainu, he also got rid of his soaking 
 garments, for whenever I saw him for the rest of the day, he 
 appeared in the garb of the primeval savage, with little on but 
 the blanket, which formed, with the exception of his cooking pots 
 and the suit of clothes that I had given him, his sole worldly 
 possession. 
 
 The much-abused Indian servant has one great advantage over 
 others. He never seems to exist unless he is doing something for
 
 42 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 you. The two words ao (come) and jao (go) sum up his daily 
 movements. The first implies that you require his services, the 
 next that he is to disappear off the face of the earth until next 
 wanted. Where and how he eats or sleeps is no care of yours. N(j 
 man has ever seen him eat, but there is a legend that the dark 
 thing huddled up in a blanket outside your door, over which you 
 stumble as you step out into the night air, is Narain Singh 
 awaiting his next summons to the Presence. 
 
 On the march, however, the servants had their tents, the four 
 Mohammedans chumming together, while Nainu, being a Hindu, 
 preferred to lie down with his fellows, the kalassis. Never a 
 complaint is heard, in hot weather or cold, in rain or sun, after 
 a long day's march or a weary delay ; he is always patient, always 
 obedient, ready to do to the best of his varying ability his ap- 
 pointed task. Truly with all his little faults the Indian servant 
 can only be called one gigantic success. 
 
 The storm rather unsettled the weather during our few days 
 at Jibbi, and made us realise that we were still 6000 feet above 
 the sea; but St.G.'s time was fully taken up with his accounts, 
 while I wandered about and shot alternately with my gun and 
 my camera lens. To my great regret, I had forgotten to bring some 
 dust-shot cartridges with me, so as to get a specimen of each of the 
 many new kinds of small birds I met with. The long-tailed blue 
 jay and his orange brother ; the little grey flycatcher with crimson 
 wings, fluttering from rock to rock ; the gorgeous smaller king- 
 fisher one mass of crimson and sky-blue, sitting on a branch over 
 a pool, or racing his bigger grey-and-white speckled relation in 
 his swift flight down the stream ; the tame little black water-bird 
 with rufous breast and white top-knot, who never seemed to leave 
 us ; and the splendid flocks of Eaja birds, little fellows, the males 
 all scarlet and the females yellow, who seemed to catch every ray 
 of the sun in their headlong course through the air — all these 
 and many others became very familiar to us in our daily marches, 
 bu.t one needs to examine them once in one's hand in order to
 
 CHAP, n NATIVE EVIDENCE 43 
 
 become really acquainted with them. To thoroughly enjoy a march 
 of this kind one must make the acquaintance, if not the friendship, 
 of all the life around one, both great and small, for it supplies a 
 daily living interest, and is a study which never fails, but rather 
 opens constantly new doors for further investigations. 
 
 One morning, on our return from a short absence from camp, 
 we heard an immense tumult, and soon saw an angry gathering of 
 villagers about the servants' tents. We thought nothing of it at 
 first, until the interest which the disputants began to take in each 
 other's female relatives proved it to be serious. "How now, 
 jemadar, what new arrangement is this you have made for our 
 comfort ? " 
 
 At these words the babel ceases, and the whole body turns 
 toward us. " Sahib, these men, fools that they are, have come only 
 to annoy us, who have given no offence ; we drive them away, but 
 they ever return with fresh complaints, so utterly without shame 
 are they." 
 
 " Nay, Sahib, it is we who are true men, and our words are 
 straight. Three seers of milk did the Presence's servants take from 
 us, giving only payment for half a seer, but with many threats." 
 
 " What talk is this, thou liar and son of a liar ? Is it not true 
 that this man brought three seers of milk, and received payment 
 for three ? All our men, for they alone are true men, will bear 
 witness that I speak the truth. Sahib, these men are wholly 
 without shame." 
 
 Unfortunately for St.Gr. the witnesses are equally numerous 
 on both sides, and both swear hard to the truth of their own and 
 to the falsity of their opponents' case. 
 
 It is always difficult to find out whether it is the servants who 
 are endeavouring to impose on the unsophisticated peasant, or 
 whether the unsophisticated peasants are not trying to get the better 
 of their natural enemies, hating as they do to have to supply anything 
 at all to the passers-by. In such a case evidence on either side is 
 wholly worthless, for each party votes straight, through thick and
 
 44 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 thin, and it can only be decided on the abstract principle, so univer- 
 sal in the East, that it is probably the stronger who are oppressing 
 the weaker ; and so the servants were condemned to pay up the 
 defaulting threepence, because, wearing as they did the splendid 
 brass badges which marked them as the representatives of Her 
 Majesty's Government, they were, without doubt, in consequence 
 the oppressors. 
 
 The weather cleared again next day, and as St.G.'s accounts 
 were now finished, we made preparations to continue our march 
 on the following morning down the valley. The mules had been 
 sent back to Simla to avoid the expense of keeping them waiting ; 
 so chaprassis were sent out in all directions to scour the villages 
 for kulis, for we needed a small army to transport our goods and 
 chattels. 
 
 There was great excitement in the evening in the villages and 
 hamlets lying in the hills above. No less person than the Devi 
 himself had appeared, and was showing his anger by covering up 
 the half of the full moon which ought to have shone brilliantly 
 down out of the black sky. We stood out on the frosty night 
 watching the eclipse, and listening to the weird howls and lament- 
 ations of the affrighted peasants. Conches were blown by the 
 priests to fan the religious zeal, and their excitement went so far 
 as to cause them actually to fire off a couple of shots. Surely it 
 must have been a great harvest for the holy men. I gave Nainu 
 an elementary lecture on astronomy next morning, to which he 
 listened in respectful, if disbelieving silence, only remarking when 
 it was over, " It is true, the Sahib log indeed know all things." 
 
 Next morning the usual difficulty in obtaining the kulis again 
 cropped up when we wanted to start, the chaprassis not having 
 been able to persuade a sufficient number of them to come down 
 from their villages to do a day's work. 
 
 The whole question of Begar, or forced labour, cannot be judged 
 without considering rather fvilly the position of the Kulu peasant 
 or zamindar. These zamindars have mostly very small holdings —
 
 CHAP. II KULU ADMINISTRATION 45 
 
 a few terraces near their villages, which they work with the help 
 of their families, though in a few cases the zamincU'irs hold sufficient 
 land to enable them to employ two or three labourers. These latter 
 are practically serfs, and their remuneration consists of a few 
 handfuls of grain daily, with the addition of one piece of puttu 
 (homespun) and two pairs of shoes per annum. As is the case all 
 over India, the zamindars hold their land direct from the Govern- 
 ment, the land being only reassessed at long intervals when the 
 rent is fixed. Thus the zamindar is practically a peasant proprietor 
 paying a small land-tax to the Government. 
 
 A collection of these zamindari lands, with a few hamlets upon 
 them, forms the unit of area in Kulu, known as the kothi. These 
 vary in size, some being large and containing several villages, 
 while others are but sparsely populated, but all are compact and 
 well defined. In the Upper Beas valley and Waziri Eupi there 
 are altogether some twenty-three of these kothis or village com- 
 munes. The headman of each hamlet in the kothi is the Lumbadar, 
 who is generally chosen by the villagers themselves, and whose 
 chief duties consist in seeing to the collection of the revenue, for 
 which he gets a small percentage, and the carrying out of orders 
 he receives for Begar. 
 
 Each kothi, in its turn, is presided over by a Neghi, who is the 
 official really responsible for the rents, and for the behaviour of his 
 charge. The office is hereditary, and is an esteemed one, for the 
 neghi in many cases has several lumbadars under him, as well as 
 chowkidars, the latter of whom perform the office of village watch- 
 men. The neghi, besides collecting the rents, on which he also 
 gets a commission, has to see to all arrangements for forced labour, 
 to supply the needs of travellers with wood, milk, flour, etc., to 
 obtain kulis for the transport of their baggage, and in general to 
 furnish labourers for any Government work that is required on 
 roads or bridges. 
 
 As ftir as appearances go, the neghis I met were in no way to 
 he distinguished from any of the other villagers ; but though in
 
 46 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 most cases intensely ignorant, they can generally read and write 
 their own language. 
 
 The whole of the neghis, again, in Kulii and Seoraj are under 
 the Tehsildar and his deputy, who live respectively at Sultanpur 
 and Banjaur. These men are native magistrates, and have power 
 to try civil and criminal cases, and to inflict as much as six 
 months' imprisonment upon offenders. They carry out, under the 
 Assistant Commissioner, the whole of the government of the dis- 
 trict, and, as their name implies, are responsible for the telisil or 
 treasury. Both are strangers from the plains of the Punjab, for 
 no Kulu man has yet shown capacity enough for taking any real 
 share in the government of his valley. ^ 
 
 It will thus be seen that the government of the country is 
 extremely simple, and that the zamindar, beyond his nominal rent, 
 pays no direct taxes, except the service he may have to render 
 under the Begar regulations. This service, as has been said before, 
 is from time immemorial, and though in itself it is no great 
 burden, yet, unless very carefully adjusted, it may press with 
 intolerable weight upon the individual. 
 
 Taking the claims of Government first, the solution of the 
 problem was not difficult, and under the present system no works, 
 unless imperatively necessary, are carried out during the months 
 mainly devoted to agriculture. No call is made for forced labour, 
 if willing labour can be found ; and last, but not least, all labour 
 is paid for at a fair day's wage. The traveller's claims, however, 
 were not so easily adjusted, for even now they inevitably break 
 down if any real demand is made upon them. His requirements 
 consist of food for himself and his men, milk, wood, fodder for his 
 horses and mules, with the addition of personal service in carrying 
 baggage. 
 
 In the old days the Eajas simply exacted all these by force 
 from the villagers nearest at hand, and as long as no organised 
 system was laid down, the hardship on some zamindars was in- 
 
 ^ See Appendix B.
 
 CHAP. II BEGAR REGULATIONS 47 
 
 tolerable, while others at a distance altogether escaped the tax. 
 Again, men were often summoned from a distance of twelve to 
 fifteen miles to a stage, there to await the traveller's pleasure 
 for days, only to find in the end that they were not required, or if 
 engaged, were taken on another twelve-mile march, only to be dis- 
 missed on completing the journey with but a poor recompense for 
 their long absence from their fields. Likely enough, too, the 
 peasant would be called away just at the time when his little plot 
 of ground most needed his attention. These conditions have now 
 been remedied by Government, by making out lists, so that each 
 kothi is called upon in turn to supply kulis, and by organising 
 the main routes into marches, for each of which a fixed charge is 
 made for porterage ; nor can kulis now be kept waiting beyond a 
 certain time without extra payment. 
 
 All these arrangements seem sensible and workable enough, but 
 where they break down is in the people themselves. Probably no 
 peasants in the world are so well off as the Kulu zamindars. Each 
 grows enough food off his own little plot of ground to supply 
 himself and his family with sufficient for the year. His little 
 flock of sheep and goats provides him with milk and wool, which 
 he spins himself into coarse thread. This is then woven by him- 
 self into long narrow strips of homespun, which furnish him with 
 clothes and blankets. Tobacco he grows for his own consumption. 
 His sole need of money is to pay his trifling rent to the neghi, 
 and this he obtains by the sale of his surplus rice or wheat to the 
 passing Lahaulis, or possibly the disposal of his small patch of 
 opium to the Punjabi traders. 
 
 The consequence is that the Kulu peasant has little incentive 
 to do a hard day's work, even if it is fairly paid for. A more 
 enterprising people would be only too delighted to see travellers 
 entering their country, bringing money and trade ; but not so the 
 Kulu zamindar. He seems to throw every obstacle he can in the 
 way of the traveller obtaining even such necessaries as milk and 
 flour, while he obstinately refuses to sell his honey, his eggs, and
 
 48 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 his fowls, for which he is offered liberal payment. This uiivvilling- 
 uess to sell or trade seems to be a part of the Kulu character, for 
 it is only under Government compulsion that the lumbadtirs will 
 supply sheep for payment or grass and wood for the traveller's 
 use ; and it is a curious fact that all the shops in the valley are 
 kept by strangers from the Punjab, Sultanpur, the capital, being 
 almost entirely peopled by them. The very Bunnias selling flour 
 to the servants at the end of the day's march, do not belong to 
 the valley, and it is almost an impossibility to obtain a peasant's 
 consent to part with his spare blankets or his quaint jewelry, 
 no matter how liberal a price is offered him. 
 
 The result of all this is that, if it were not for the Government's 
 enforcement of Begar, no work at all could be carried on in the 
 valley, no roads made, no bridges built. Offer what he would, 
 the traveller would not be able to obtain even the necessaries of 
 life, for there are, of course, no local shops ; he could not either 
 move a step, for no one would carry his baggage or bring grass 
 for his mules. 
 
 Such being the case, forced labour and forced supplies, both 
 of which are fairly paid for at fixed rates, are justly exacted 
 by the Government, the neghi of each kothi being obliged by law 
 to comply with the demands made upon him. In practice, how- 
 ever, numerous difficulties arise. The neghi's excuse is that he 
 has not received sufficient notice ; the lumbadar announces that 
 there is no milk to be had ; a miserable sheep is brought for 
 the stipulated four rupees, and is falsely declared to be the best 
 they have. If any complaint is made to the Assistant Commis- 
 sioner, he expresses his regret, but excuses himself by saying 
 that he also continually has the same difficulties. In the mean- 
 time the traveller wastes a day of his precious leave, or goes to 
 bed after a meagre supper. 
 
 If the Kulu people will not take any share in the trade of 
 their country, and there arises a demand for it on the part of 
 sufficient travellers, the present system will inevitably go to the
 
 -f^
 
 CHAP. 11 JVE START AGAIN 49 
 
 wall, and be replaced by a race of foreign traders and contractors, 
 who will effectually prevent the people of the valley from ever 
 having any share in the increasing prosperity of their country. 
 
 After waiting some time for the rest of the kulis, we decided 
 to start at once, leaving a chaprassi behind to bring on the rest 
 of the baggage when a sufficient number of men had been found. 
 It was delightful to be on the move again. 
 
 The path continued steadily down the valley, and all too soon 
 the delightful alpine character of the mountain sides began to 
 grow less ; we broke out of the dark pine- woods into the more 
 open valley, where the hillsides were brown and bare, and where 
 the peasants were busily scratching their terraced fields with 
 quaintly-shaped ploughs. With the hot sun behind our backs the 
 whole way, the views all day were flat and shadowless, without 
 any variety to cause especial interest. About midday we reached 
 Banjaur, whither the seat of the local authority has been moved 
 from the village of Plach, high up on the hill opposite. 
 
 Banjaur is now the residence of the Naib Tehsildar, for whose 
 benefit quite an imposing array of buildings has been erected. 
 An excellent two-storied, gabled stone villa, worthy indeed of 
 Upper Norwood, holds the great man himself, while alongside 
 is a large, low, stone Tudor castle, enclosing courtyards for the 
 treasury, the police station, and post-office. The half a dozen 
 policemen lounging about are but the nominal guard of the 
 treasure, for, as serious crime is wholly unknown in Kulu, the 
 policeman's lot, here at any rate, is indeed a happy one. The 
 buildings look well built and comfortable, but strangely out of 
 place in this non-urban land. St.G. and I walked up to them, 
 and were received with many salams by the Tehsildar, after whose 
 health we tenderly inquired, and then proceeded to discuss the 
 crops and the season before we came to the important question 
 of presenting the treasury warrant to him to draw pay for the 
 men. We came to the conclusion that the ISTaib Tehsildar of 
 Banjaur has a " soft billet," and when other professions fail, 
 
 E
 
 50 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE parti 
 
 we determined to remember it as one well worth applying for. 
 We had a further six miles of tramp however to-day, so we tore 
 ourselves away, and continued our march down the valley. 
 
 About a mile below Banjaur a stream comes in from the 
 right, down which the path leads from the Bashleo Pass, the 
 two roads here uniting and continuing together on into Kulu. 
 We hesitated rather about taking an upper line of road which 
 branches off here, and leads through Plach over a ridge into the 
 Saiuj valley, and then over a second ridge into the Kulu valley 
 at Bajaora. This would be a more interesting route, and in 
 summer be cooler than the lower road, but in places it is almost 
 impassable for ponies, and for us would have been disagreeable, 
 owing to the cold caused by the late break in the weather. We 
 therefore followed the path which keeps mostly along the torrent, 
 except now and then where a projecting cliff causes it to climb up, 
 only to descend again where the valley widens. Scarcely a tree 
 is to be seen about here, and there is little to charm the eye in 
 the monotonous red-brown colouring. A bold bridge, however, 
 thrown across a narrow gorge just before reaching the end of our 
 day's march, added a little interest to the proceedings. 
 
 Manglaor bungalow we reached early in the afternoon — a poor 
 tumble-down little place, a great part of the roof being off, which 
 would have been inconvenient had it rained. We strolled up to 
 the little temple on the hill just above — a quaint building with 
 some interesting wood-carving, the whole l)eing in better repair 
 and more carefully kept than most of the temples we had yet 
 come across. There was no one in attendance, and we searched 
 for the god, but, as usual, he was not to be found at home, until 
 at last from within the inmost sanctuary Nainu unearthed a 
 round vermilion -smeared stone, which he assured me was the 
 Deota himself. 
 
 I turned with more interest to some living goddesses who, 
 hearing of our arrival, had come with Kulu boldness to have a 
 chat and to see for themselves. The fame of Kulu ladies has 
 
 N.
 
 KULU WOMEN 
 
 51 
 
 spread far beyond the Himalayas, and many a fair one from the 
 valley has reclined upon the couches of the emperors of Delhi, 
 and gazed from out of the white marble halls of the palace across 
 the great Jumna and the glaring plains towards the distant hills, 
 high up in which her sisters perhaps stood up to their knees in 
 water, planting out the young rice in their narrow terraced fields, 
 to the sound of merry laughter and boisterous jokes. 
 
 The women greeted us with cheery salams, asking questions 
 whence we had come, and whither going. Simple peasants on ■ 
 their way to the hillsides to cut grass for the cattle at home. 
 
 KULU SILVER ENAMELLED NECKLACE 
 
 they carried ropes over their shoulders and sickles in their hands, 
 and laughed heartily as I bade them stay to have their picture 
 taken. Tattered and dirty as they undoubtedly were, there was 
 a great charm in the unconscious frankness of these simple girls, 
 which was all the more lefreshing in this womanless Eastern 
 land. Their voices were soft, and their gentle manners winning, 
 as with a half-shy smile they chaffed me for wearing a ring on my 
 finger, it evidently not being the fashion here for the male sex 
 to burden themselves with a signet. In spite of the poverty of 
 their clothes, they wore a great quantity of silver necklaces, 
 prominent among which were the regulation silver and blue 
 enamel plaqiies, on which the rude outline of a god is traced.
 
 52 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 which are universally worn by men and women in Kulu. Their 
 olive throats were well set off' by the strings of coral which mixed 
 with the silver, while here and there a rough green turquoise 
 added a little colour to their otherwise somewhat sober appearance. 
 Masses of earrings hung from a little silk cap wliich covered the 
 upper half of the ears and thus supported the weight, and 
 though somewhat disfigured by nose -rings, they happily were 
 not well enough off to wear the little gold leaf- shaped orna- 
 ment, which, hanging from the nose of many Kulu women, so 
 mars the other\vise pretty hues of their mouths. I asked them 
 in vain if they would part with any of their curiosities, but with 
 true Kulu feeling they refused to sell, especially setting a high 
 value on the coral, which they said was a rarity in these parts. 
 
 I am afraid that the KiQu women have been often condemned 
 for their immorality, and though in truth chastity is not looked 
 upon here, as in other countries, as a valuable quality, yet those 
 who know them best, and have time to consider the conditions 
 under which they live, find it easy to forgive their laxity and want 
 of continence, which has but little in common with the gross 
 deceits or greedy desire for gain, often found in many more civilised 
 communities. As will be seen later, the marriage tie has not the 
 same binding effect on either the men or the women as is given to 
 it by more cultivated races ; and before condemning the women, it 
 is necessary to look to the men, under whose charge they are. 
 
 Probably owing to the ease and comfort of life, and absence of 
 any danger to call forth his manly qualities, the Kulu peasant 
 has developed into a very lazy and ignorant member of society. 
 Unselfish labour is to him a thing unknown, and hand in hand 
 with his want of education and low moral tone goes a certain 
 cunning, which is chiefly used to escape and evade any duties that he 
 may be called upon to perform. Essentially an agricultural people, 
 the man is seen at his best when at work in the fields, though 
 here, as elsewhere, a great part of the work is done by the woman, 
 who, in truth, is simply looked upon as a labour-saving machine.
 
 PEASANT WOMEN AT MANGLAOR
 
 CHAP. II KULU CHASTITY 53 
 
 and who is mostly valued by her husband in proportion to the 
 amount of work she is capable of performing. We met afterwards 
 in the valley a man who was pointed out as an exceedingly clever 
 fellow. He bought a wife cheap, for some eight or ten rupees, 
 broke her in to be a useful worker at home and in the fields, and 
 then sold her to the next comer for double the money. This seemed 
 to be his profession indeed, for he was then in process of educating 
 the third. 
 
 Easy-going and dissolute as the men undoubtedly are, with no 
 moral feeling or public opinion to keep them straight, but on the 
 contrary with plenty of leisure and opportunity at the many fairs, 
 where, intoxicated by a plentiful supply of h(g7'i, they indulge 
 their passions, what encouragement is there for their wives to 
 remain faithful ? Married, in the first instance, simply for money 
 considerations, disgusted by the flagrant infidelity of her husband, 
 a Kvilu woman sees little harm in throwing herself into the arms 
 of a lover for whom she has formed a real and natural attachment. 
 Marriage to her is certainly no romance, but rather an estate of 
 enforced labour ; what surprise can therefore be felt if under these 
 circumstances she abandons herself to the dictates of a heart that 
 Nature has provided her with ? 
 
 From Manglaor we trudged down the narrow and treeless valley, 
 now somewhat monotonous in its brown winter tints, another 
 twelve miles to Larji, passing no villages, only here and there a 
 scattered hamlet ; for the country is large and the inhabitants are 
 not as yet numerous. We arrived in good time, for the march had 
 been downhill all day, only to be met by the chaprassi we had 
 sent on, who informed us that the neghi declared that he would 
 be unable to furnish us with the kulis that we required on the 
 morrow, but that he had sent men up to the villages scattered 
 amongst the hills, and hoped to have them ready on the following 
 day. 
 
 It is no good fretting about delays in the East ; they come, 
 indeed, with a punctuality worthy of a better cause, whether
 
 54 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE i-akt i 
 
 welcome or the reverse. We waited therefore a whole day at 
 Larji, and before the end of it were convinced that, if human nature 
 is the same here as elsewhere, it must be an enormously difficult 
 thing to gather unwilling men together from such scattered 
 hamlets perched high upon the mountains and often separated 
 from each other by valleys several thousand feet deep. 
 
 The little Larji bungalow, which, with a few huts, represents 
 the dignity of tlie place, stands near the bank of the Sainj river, 
 some half a mile above its junction with the Beds, and is shut in by 
 high hills all round, so that one gets but little idea of its situation 
 at the junction of the three rivers. The great Beds creeps in 
 almost unnoticed through the narrow gap in the high surrounding 
 cliffs that is scarcely to be noticed on the right hand side of the 
 accompanying photograph. The great gorge through which the 
 Beds escapes from Kulu, and which prevents all access up its valley 
 from below, is seen in the middle of the picture. We walked 
 down to the actual junction of the rivers, and could from there 
 realise the stupendous heights on either side, which enclose the 
 narrow pass, and afford no place for life except to the solitary 
 cormorant sitting on his rock watching the pool, or to the swift 
 night flights of the countless flocks of wild-fowl on their autumn 
 and spring journeys to and from the plains below. 
 
 The bridge at Larji is a very good specimen of the sangha 
 bridge, made by the natives all through the Northern Himalayas. 
 The principle of the cantilever, or bracket, is one of the oldest as 
 well as the newest as applied to bridge construction, the brackets 
 sticking out from each bank in the sangha bridge, being in reality 
 but the half of one of the great Forth Bridge diamond-shaped 
 cantilevers. The brackets in the sangha bridges are formed by 
 building three, four, or even five tiers of deodar logs into a solid 
 masonry abutment, where, for greater strength, the courses of 
 stone are tied together with wooden beams. As will be seen, the 
 greater part of the masonry is resting on the top of the deodar 
 logs, w^hich penetrate almost as far into the buttress as they pro-
 
 CHAP. II A NATIVE BRIDGE 55 
 
 ject. This mass of masonry is simply the weight to counter- 
 balance the corresponding pressure on the point of the bracket of 
 the actual bridge itself, which is formed by joining the extremities 
 of the brackets with several long deodar logs, on which the decking 
 is laid. To gain strength, it is the thin end of the log that is 
 buried, leaving thus a greater thickness of wood for the fulcrum 
 of the lever, on which the weight naturally falls. These bridges, 
 everywhere met with, are excellent examples of a good design well 
 carried out, and in most cases they are very well built by the 
 natives, who have all the necessary materials at hand. 
 
 We spent the day lazily, strolling up the narrow Sainj valley 
 on a wretched apology for a path in the morning, and in the after- 
 noon making the cliffs around re-echo with our rifles as we tried 
 to disturb some cormorants fishing in the river some five hundred 
 yards below us. As fishermen, we always considered these birds 
 legitimate prey, ever since we cut open one that we had shot, 
 and found his crop and stomach literally full of fish of the smallest 
 kind. 
 
 We had now finished our downhill, since the next march was 
 to take us up the Beds into Kulu proper ; and a most uninteresting 
 march it turned out to be. The necessary kulis arrived in the 
 morning, and soon the long caravan was winding up the steep hill 
 opposite, on the path which was to take us round into the Beds 
 valley high above the river cliffs. As Larji is 3100 feet above the 
 sea, and Bajaora, at the end of the twelve miles' march, only 500 
 feet higher, the road continues the whole way at a dull level along 
 the monotonous slope of brown winter grass. Not a tree is to be 
 seen on this sunny western-facing slope, nor, for some reason, are 
 any signs of inhabitants to be met with, though on the other side of 
 the river, which is, as far as Bajaora, a part of Mandi State, villages 
 and cultivation stand dotted amongst the trees which there find 
 moisture enough to subsist. These great bare slopes of the Hima- 
 layas must look vastly different in June and July, when the summer 
 rains have banished the brown in favour of a brilliant clothing of
 
 56 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE parti 
 
 green. St.G. and I varied the monotony of the march by making a 
 deep descent to the river below us, in pursuit of a flock of duck 
 that were idly resting, after their long night flight, on the waters of 
 a green pool. Nainu and Eaganathu were sent to do the driving, 
 and we posted ourselves in the most advantageous positions ; but, 
 needless to say, after circling in a tantalising fashion round our 
 heads just out of shot, they took their course straight down stream 
 and were soon lost to view. 
 
 About half-way along this march the road crosses to the other 
 bank of the Be;is on a fine saugha bridge of 150 feet span, and 
 then continues along the flat cultivated valley-bed as far as Bajaora. 
 Many signs of the hotter climate were everywhere visible, some of 
 the villages being more like the wattle, daub, and thatch-roofed 
 huts of the plains, while the rich golden crops of standing maize 
 took the place of the millet we had met on highei- ground. 
 
 Bajaora, indeed, has quite a civilised look in its wide open 
 valley. Besides the bungalow, a well-built house belonging to 
 Colonel Piennick stands on the knoll formerly occupied by an 
 interesting old fort, from which a beautiful view of the richly 
 cultivated ground is seen stretching across the river-bed to the steep 
 high mountains rising opposite. Colonel Eennick's farm buildings, 
 the regular rows of the tea bushes which are cultivated here on a 
 small scale, the well-kept roads along which trees have grown into 
 an avenue — all tend to give the place a very homely and cared-for 
 appearance. 
 
 In spite of all these peaceful characteristics, Bajaora is celebrated 
 everywhere as being a very lair of leopards. Indeed, the Bajaora 
 leopard must be a regular source of income to many Indian editors, 
 for his doings are weekly chronicled in detail in the columns of 
 their papers, no doubt by some observant correspondent who has 
 never been near the spot. I feel therefore that I should not be doing 
 Bajaora justice if I did not repeat the lie that the bhisti told me the 
 morning after our arrival. He vowed by all his gods that, as he 
 went down into the ravine at dusk to fill his water-skin from the
 
 CHAP. II THE BAJAORA LEOPARD AGAIN 57 
 
 stream, he met an immense leopard in the path, which, he declared, 
 was only driven off by repeated blows of his (the liar's) staff. 
 
 As a matter of fact, it is as easy for a leopard to conceal itself 
 about Bajaora as anywhere else, for these animals can hide almost 
 in a tuft of grass, and the many ravines running down here from 
 the mountains behind no doubt encourage them to come and pick 
 up a good meal off a stray dog, or any sheep that has not been 
 securely housed for the night. But during a fortnight's stay at 
 Bajaora later, in the covirse of many a walk home of an evening after 
 a day's black partridge shooting, we never had the good fortune to 
 become any better acquainted with " Mr. Spots," although we con- 
 tinued daily to read of his doings in the newspapers that were 
 brought up to us from the plains below. 
 
 SILVER MIRROR-RING
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 In consideration of the fact that November had already begun, we 
 decided to push on at once to the higher ground, leaving the 
 lower parts of the valley for a later visit. Our preparations were 
 soon made, for we simply discarded everything that was not 
 absolutely necessary. Delightful as it is to be surrounded by 
 many camp comforts on low ground where transport is to be 
 obtained without great difficulty, such paraphernalia become an 
 impossible burden to the Sahib who directs, as well as to the kuli 
 who carries, when anything like a beaten track is left. 
 
 We sat down therefore to overhaul our baggage. As every 
 reformer is confronted with a mass of detail every particle of which 
 seems of vital necessity to the machine, so each and every article 
 of our baggage stared at us in mute amazement at the supposition 
 that it of all things could be dispensed with, and our only safety 
 lay in seizing several of the prominent necessaries and rushing off", 
 leaving the remainder to be sat upon by our servants until our 
 return. When all, however, is said and done, it is astonishing to 
 find out how many " real necessities " there are, and, in spite of all 
 cutting down of weights, it is scarcely possible for a traveller to 
 march into the hills with less than ten kuli loads of baggage.^ 
 We thought, indeed, considering our bulky photographic and 
 survey kit, that we were rather lucky to start out of Bajaora next 
 morning with only twenty-five men between us. We took one 
 
 ^ See Appendix C.
 
 CHAP. Ill THE PARBATI VALLEY 59 
 
 tent for ourselves, one for the servants, of whom only Baclulla and 
 Abdurrahman, the two Mahomedans, accompanied us — one to cook, 
 and the other to serve. Namu and Eaganathu, of course, came as 
 gun-bearers, and my camera was carried by the usual man. 
 
 We had decided to visit the Parbati valley, which is the main 
 feeder of the Beds on its eastern side, the scenery of which St.Gr. 
 had heard much praised. It is a cul-de-sac, but we lioped to vary 
 our return by crossing the Malauna Pass, by which we would 
 descend on to the upper waters of the Beas, and so return down the 
 Kulu valley. 
 
 Waziri Eupi, the silver country of the Wazi'rs, through which 
 the Parbati flows, is so called from the silver mines in the valley, 
 which from time to time have been worked, but which now do not 
 repay the labour spent upon raising the ore to the surface. In 
 area this district is almost exactly the same as its neighbour the 
 Upper Beas valley ; but owing to its wild and mountainous char- 
 acter, its population is only about a third of the other, which 
 includes Sultanpur, the capital, in its 36,000 inhabitants. In 
 1840, Waziri Eupi was given by the Sikhs as a grant to the 
 ancestor of the present Eai of Kulu, by whom the revenues are 
 still enjoyed, these amounting at the present time to roughly a 
 rupee per head of its 12,000 inhabitants. Its chief interest, to the 
 native mind at any rate, are the hot springs at Manikarn, about 
 twenty-five miles up the Parbati river, which are visited annually 
 by hundreds of pilgrims in expiation of their sins. While humbly, 
 however, confessing our sins too, we were anxious also to push on 
 beyond Manikarn, to get at last near the snows that we had so 
 long admired from a distance. 
 
 We made rather a late start from Bajaora, not getting off until 
 eleven o'clock, for the difficulties of any new arrangement are 
 always very forcibly impressed on the native mind, and the 
 change in the composition of our party caused prolonged anxiety 
 to the jemadar and his underlings. It was quite a new experience 
 to find ourselves in the flat and open valley at Bajaora, riding along
 
 60 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 the level path, well shaded with carefully tended trees, which 
 winds through the cultivated fields. The harvest was in full swing ; 
 the rice fields had already been stripped of their crops, and in 
 every village we passed could be heard the thud of the pole that 
 crushed the grain from its husk. The tall maize still stood, await- 
 ing the reaper's sickle, and affording shelter to the jackal startled 
 by our approach. The midday sun was hot on our backs, and to 
 escape the heat we cantered our ponies sharply along the two miles 
 of road which leads up the valley to the bridge over the Beds, just 
 at its junction with the Parbati. 
 
 The native's instinct for idling is excessively strong, and such 
 an untoward incident in his day's journey as a bridge to be crossed 
 is always an excellent excuse for a halt. The result is that the 
 approaches of a bridge in India are always littered with the refuse 
 of many a camp, piles of dirt line the road on either side, while the 
 sanitary arrangements would, if judged by the smell, compete 
 with any Venice canal at low tide on a hot summer day. 
 
 We did not draw bridle until we got well into the comparatively 
 pure atmosphere on the bridge, where we paused to admire this 
 marvellous structure — an iron suspension bridge, made with wire 
 rope and rods brought out all the way from England, every bit of 
 which must have been carried on men's or mules' backs one hundred 
 miles at least through the mountains. Surely a magnificent ex- 
 ample of the way not to do it, especially when the materials for the 
 excellent native-made sangha lie all around on the spot. It is 
 commonly known as Duff's Bridge, and the legend runs that a Mr. 
 Duff, who formerly resided in the valley, on entering into his family 
 inheritance in Scotland, wished to leave behind him some grateful 
 token of his happy life amongst these people, and started this bridge 
 to enable the yearly pilgrims to cross the troubled water in peace 
 and safety. Needless to say, the bridge had not made much pro- 
 gress when Mr. Duft"s grant was exhausted, and after a long delay 
 the Government was forced to take up the work and finish it, at a 
 sum fabulously beyond the original estimate.
 
 CHAP. Ill NATIVE VILLAGE NAMES 61 
 
 However, ours was not to reason why, so we trotted on into the 
 narrow gorge through which the Parbati flows ahnost unnoticed 
 into the Beas, and experienced all the delight that one does in 
 turning out of the hot and dusty Rhone valley into the narrow 
 Vispthal, as we left the open Kulu valley behind us. 
 
 The path was good, though narrow, and well trodden by the 
 bare feet of thousands of pilgrims. In places it has been blasted 
 out of the face of the cliff, which left, indeed, but little spare room 
 for the White Eat, who had grown unconscionably fat during his 
 idle time at Jibbi. I have learnt to consider a road passable where 
 there is width enough for the White Eat and one of my legs, but 
 it is unpleasant at times to be called upon in addition to lean out 
 over the precipice in order to avoid bumping my head against the 
 projecting rock, under which the Eat, in the happiness of being only 
 three feet high, complacently jogs. As one surveys the torrent 
 below one on these occasions, one begins to wonder whether the 
 sais has remembered to tighten the girths this morning, or whether 
 that girth buckle which was sewn on at the last village is likely 
 to hold out. 
 
 Little could be seen, for the mountains rose steep on either 
 side as we wound along above the tumbling, tossing torrent, which 
 bounded from rock to rock with all the activity of true alpine 
 water. At about three o'clock the river seemed to bend more to 
 the east, and as the valley opened out a little, this seemed to be 
 the spot on our maps where we wished to camp. Another half- 
 mile brought us to a small hamlet, where we hailed a villager, " 
 Budha, this village, what is its name ? " " Sahib salam, Chong is 
 its name." We consult our maps. " Why, Chong must be up on 
 the hill behind us." " Yes, Protector of the Poor, Chong is on the 
 hill above." " Then this must be Chani ? " " It is, as the Presence 
 says, Chani." " How, man of little sense, can it be both Chong 
 and Chani ? " " The Sahib knows all things : it is, indeed, as he 
 pleases." No wonder map-makers in this country have a difficulty 
 in putting the right names to the villages !
 
 62 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 We settled the matter by choosing a level spot under some fine 
 old walnut trees, just above the torrent, and there sat down to await 
 the arrival of the kulis, who were still far behind. 
 
 It is a mistake to outstrip your baggage in this way, for the 
 discomfort of having no shelter when you arrive is great. We 
 amused ourselves, however, lying on the ground and watching the 
 troops of monkeys coming down the hill on the other side of the 
 torrent to drink. Gambolling and springing from rock to rock, 
 whole families made their way down to the water, the old grey- 
 headed father screeching and showing his teeth at any young 
 bachelor who was rude enough to approach the ladies of his retinue ; 
 the anxious mother, with her latest Benjamin absorbing all her care, 
 as with fond arms he clung round her neck ; the younger members 
 of the family lagging behind to enjoy a game with their neighbours, 
 or to make love to any one foolish enough to listen to them. Every 
 movement betrayed their idle inconsequence. We could not resist 
 the temptation to fire a rifle at a large rock on the top of which a 
 number were sitting gazing at us with a monkey's senseless curiosity. 
 As the bullet splashed against the rock such a scramble never was 
 seen ; family ties could not stand the strain of the instinct of self- 
 preservation, and husband and wife, brother and sister, lover and 
 lass, scattered in all directions at their best speed, only to halt after 
 a few lightning springs and pour forth their angry chatter at being 
 thus rudely disturbed. Truly the monkey occupies a contemptible 
 place in the scale of animal creation. He is the incarnation of un- 
 fulfilled promises. 
 
 At last the kulis came up, and we were soon warming ourselves 
 driving in the tent pegs, while Badulla crouched over his three- 
 stoned kitchen-range and tempted us with savoury odours. We 
 slept well to the tune of the rushing waters, and rose next morning 
 early, as we had a double march of fourteen miles to Manikarn 
 before us. The keen morning air seemed fresher every step we 
 took up the valley, when suddenly on turning a corner a glorious 
 view burst upon us. There were our snows at last, soft and clear
 
 LOOKING UP THE PARBATI VALLEY NEAR CHANI
 
 CHAP. Ill FOREST FIRES 63 
 
 under their morning veil, standing majestically at the end of the 
 valley. The jagged peaks projecting from the glaciers seemed to us 
 an enormous height, towering above huge cliffs of rock which rose 
 out of the blue hollows before us. The long beams of the morning 
 sun were just surmounting the high ridges on our right and streamed 
 down the buttresses, making alternate bands of light and shade ; 
 while out of the deep dark gorge ahead of us rushed the bounding 
 torrent, bringing news from the glaciers we so much wished to 
 approach. 
 
 We continued up this beautiful valley all the morning, every 
 step taking us nearer our longed-for snows. The path is excellent 
 all the way to Manikarn, rising and falling in pleasing variety, but 
 keeping on the whole not far above the bed of the torrent. Few 
 villages are passed on the road, most of them being on the heights 
 above, so that there is rather a wild and lonely feeling about this 
 alpine valley. The forest, through which at times we made our 
 way, bore traces of last year's fire in the many blackened stumps, 
 and what is worse, in the poor young saplings standing scorched and 
 gaunt, extinguishing all promise of future recovery. It is in this 
 destruction of all the young growth that the forest fires do such in- 
 calculable damage, and surely the Government deserves the support 
 of every provident man in its endeavour to preserve the forests for 
 the benefit of future generations as well as the present. It is 
 essentially a Government work to prevent the wanton destruction 
 of its resources. The ignorant villager cannot be expected to look 
 beyond his immediate selfish needs. His cattle need to graze in 
 the forest, and he who tends them needs a fire to light his pipe. 
 It is in gratifying such apparently natural wants as the above 
 that the great havoc is caused. In the hot month of May, before 
 the rains have begun, the sun blazes down day after day, scorching 
 and withering everything under its burning touch. The earth, 
 dried up under its influence, pours out during the night the heat 
 it takes in during the day, until the surface of the ground is one 
 vast tinder-box, and it only needs an ember from the shepherd's
 
 64 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 fire or the spark from the herd's pipe to fall upon tlie dry brown 
 grass, for the consuming fire to burst into life. Many are the com- 
 plaints of the interested and the short-sighted at the Government 
 rules for closing absolutely the forests during those hot dry months, 
 but no unprejudiced person can visit a Government forest, where 
 these rules have been strictly enforced for the last ten or twelve 
 years, without appreciating the enormous improvement that has 
 taken place, especially in the young growth. 
 
 The majority of St.G.'s men were surveying the forest areas 
 in Kulu with a view of supplying the Government with exact 
 data upon which to base its decisions ; and it is sincerely to be 
 hoped that the Government will back up the forest officer in 
 charge, in his endeavours to prevent the present inhabitants from 
 destroying the wants of future generations in the gratification of 
 their own. 
 
 At noon we reached the village of Pautla, which lies in the 
 enclosed valley, just opposite to where the Malauna stream issues 
 out of the narrow and inaccessible gorge which prevents access to 
 that solitary village from this side. A way has been found indeed, 
 along the cliffs, but it is so bad in many places, owing to there 
 beino- scarcely any foothold on the narrow ledges on which the 
 track is carried high above the torrent, that the shepherds them- 
 selves scarcely ever make use of it. Here we met Mr. Senior, one 
 of St.G.'s assistants, who had just returned from the high ground 
 at the head of the valley, and whose newly -drawn maps we 
 examined with interest, for they naturally corrected in many 
 respects the only other map of this part of the Himalayas that 
 up to now had been in existence. These are the much-abused 
 sheets of what is known as the " Indian Atlas," which, on a scale 
 of four miles to the inch, cover the whole of the continent inclusive 
 of the Himalayas. 
 
 This map has been compared, by certain recent explorers, with 
 General Dufour's beautiful maps of Switzerland — needless to say, 
 to the great detriment of the former. Such comparisons surely
 
 SUNSET NEAR MANIKARN
 
 CHAP. Ill HIMALAYAN MAP MAKING 65 
 
 display a misconception on the part of the critics, for the two maps 
 were produced under totally different circumstances. Switzerland 
 was accurately and carefully surveyed by a large staff of surveyors 
 going with great patience over every inch of the ground. No 
 money was spared to produce a highly finished and accurate 
 representation of what is, after all, an infinitesimally small piece of 
 country in comparison with the great Indian continent. The Indian 
 sheets, on the other hand, were executed some forty or fifty years 
 ago. As far as the Himalayas are concerned they could never 
 have been intended for anything else than sketch maps, where, in 
 one season, a single European surveyor was set to fill in the details 
 of a vast number of square miles of mountainous country, a few of 
 the chief peaks of which alone had been triangulated. Working 
 in this hurried way, it was quite impossible even to visit many of 
 the valleys delineated ; the leading peaks only could be ascended 
 by the surveyor, from which the country below was sketched in to 
 the best of his ability. Another difficulty arose from the fact that 
 the maps had to be sent home to England to be engraved, so that 
 those to whom this important work was entrusted had absolutely 
 no personal cognisance of the nature of the ground they were set 
 to draw, while they were completely out of touch with the 
 surveyors themselves, who alone could have helped them. 
 
 Under such difficulties as these, the wonder is that these maps 
 are as good as they prove to be. They have done their duty for 
 the last forty years, and if the modern traveller, as is only natural, 
 wishes for a more detailed and expensive survey, surely he can 
 ask for it without disparaging the men who, forty years ago, 
 did the best they could with the little money at their command. 
 The want of money, in map-making as in everything else, is the 
 root of all evil, and any one who could devise a means by which 
 the surveyor's work could be more speedily brought into the hands 
 of the public, would deserve the thanks of the Government, as 
 well as those of impatient travellers. 
 
 After a cup of tea with Mr. Senior we saw our baggage trans- 
 
 F
 
 66 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 ferred to the shoulders of the new set of kuhs (for the march from 
 Chaui ends here), and then pushed on up the narrow valley, which 
 was too much enclosed on either side to give one any idea of the 
 surrounding country. The snows that we had so much admired 
 coming up the valley, we were told by Mr. Senior, were not the 
 main range after all, but a spur running out from it, separating 
 the Manikarn from the Malauna valley, and the highest peak of 
 which, Papidarm, is just upon 18,000 feet. 
 
 Needless to say, the weather continued quite perfect, and the 
 crisp alpine air, as we made our way up the gorge, blew with ever- 
 refreshing sweetness in our faces. Just before reaching Manikarn 
 the valley closes quite in, and the Parbati comes tumbling down the 
 ravine in a series of beautiful falls, which send the spray in white 
 clouds high into the air. A rough wooden bridge leads across to 
 the right bank of the river here, and as soon as we got to the head 
 of the gorge the quaint little cluster of brown houses and temples 
 known as Manikarn burst suddenly into view. Wedged in on both 
 sides by enormous precipitous hills, there is scarcely foundation room 
 for the fifty or sixty houses that compose the village ; nor are they 
 left here in peace, for the roaring torrent disputes the possession 
 of even this little narrow strip with them. A curious feature is 
 the deep dark shadow cast all day long over the village by the 
 immense heights opposite, a shadow that only disappears for a 
 short hour at sunset, when the light streams straight up the 
 narrow valley. As we approached the village a strange smell 
 of sulphur everywhere filled the au-, while the steam rose all 
 about in clouds from the numberless boiling springs that here 
 bubble out of the ground. A most curious and original little 
 place altogether, and one well worthy of a visit even to those 
 travellers who have no sins to wash away in its steaming pools. 
 
 We marched straight to the little bungalow — a long, low, white- 
 washed building, innocent of windows, which stands within a few 
 paces of the torrent ; and soon were endeavouring to dispel some of 
 the gloomy chill of the rooms by kindling the blazing logs on the
 
 MANIKARN
 
 CHAP. Ill MANIKARN 67 
 
 hearth. Long before we had unpacked our kit and changed our 
 things, the sun had set behind the high hills, and the sudden Eastern 
 darkness had fallen like a pall upon the little mountain village. 
 As we stepped out on to the verandah into the chill night air, the 
 stars sparkled in all their brilliance along the narrow strip of black 
 sky which forms the roof of this confined gorge, while the roar of 
 the torrent immediately before us was so deafening that with diffi- 
 culty could we hear each other speak. A strange mystery seemed 
 to be floating in the air — the mystery of the respect paid by thou- 
 sands of weary pilgrims to this sacred spot. How many poor 
 creatures, before now, had made their long journey up here, perhaps 
 from the farthermost part of the great continent, burdened with 
 some great sorrow, and, though tired and footsore, yet lay down on 
 this their first night in the happiness of having attained their goal, 
 and in full and faithful hope of the blessings to be derived on the 
 morrow from a bathe in the sacred water. The faint aromatic smell 
 of the villagers' fires, wafted up upon the evening air, seemed like 
 the incense to the shrine where countless wayfarers had, to the 
 best of their simple ability, fulfilled the beautiful words, " Come 
 unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give 
 you rest." 
 
 The spirit of the place even penetrated to the phlegmatic Nainu, 
 for as he prepared my bed he broke out, " Has the Sahib seen the 
 water ? It is so hot that even the hand cannot be held in it. 
 Without doubt. Sahib, this is a very good place, for there is no 
 need of buying wood with pice. Flour, rice, pulse, chupattis, all 
 things can be cooked in this water, and there is no need of fire. 
 To-morrow we will cook our food in the water that the Nag has 
 made hot, but Eam Jas says that the water will not cook the food 
 of Badulla and Abdurrahman, because they are Mussulmans. The 
 place is indeed good for Hindu people, and surely the Sahib will 
 be pleased to stay here the morrow." 
 
 It was well that we decided to wait here a day, for when the 
 morrow came, the god-despised Badulla and Abdurrahman were the
 
 68 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 only servants to be found, so we ate our breakfast in peace, and 
 then sallied out in search of adventures. 
 
 In the fresh morning air the steam from the hot springs rose 
 everywhere in white clouds as we strolled along the bank of the 
 torrent. The chief source seems to be at the lower end of the 
 village, where the boiling water is conducted to various rough baths 
 formed by digging square pits in the ground and banking them round 
 with stones ; but there are so many of these bubbling, boiling 
 streams flowing down just here into the glacier torrent below, that 
 it is difficult to find out how many separate springs there are. In 
 the village itself there are several other sources, which feed the 
 covered bath enjoyed by the women and the better classes ; but 
 the most sacred place seems to be just under a red flag close by 
 the edge of the torrent, where only the higher castes are allowed 
 to go. 
 
 Here we found some of our errant ones. Eam Jas, the Brahmin, 
 who when clothed and in his right mind occupied the some- 
 what humble position of coat-carrier to us, " sat by the side of the 
 bubbling water " in the centre of an admiring crowd. His raiment 
 consisted of his black elf-locks hanging down his bare back and a 
 small pocket-handkerchief where most needed. In his hands he 
 held a book — upside down, for he could not read — in which he was 
 so absorbed that the bystanders no doubt imagined him already 
 half-way to heaven. A little farther on, Nainu and Anandi, also 
 in the airiest of costumes, were crouching over a steaming pool, 
 into which they had cast their little bags of rice, which was being 
 cooked for their morning meal. 
 
 " Nainua, how is the water this morning ? " " Bara achchha, 
 Sahib, see how hot it is. Does the Sahib know where the hot 
 water comes from ? No, Sahib, the people here tell other words, 
 that Parbati (the goddess) once did bathe here in the river 
 with Mahadeo, and as she laid her earrings upon the bank, Nag 
 (the serpent god) did come and steal them, carrying them to his 
 home beneath the earth. Mahadeo was then very angry, and made
 
 CHAP. Ill OUR SERVANTS AND THE HOT SPRINGS 69. 
 
 much complaint, until the gods also were angry, and with one 
 accord threatened Nag unless he gave back the jewels. Then Nag 
 snorted with rage, blowing the earrings out of his nostrils, wliere 
 he had hidden them, with such force that they flew through the 
 earth to Parbati again, and from the holes they made ever since 
 the hot water has come. The words must be true, Sahib, for see 
 here is one of the holes." 
 
 We walked on, looking for a good place from which to photo- 
 graph the \dllage ; but so confined was the space that it was with 
 great difficulty that we found a ledge to stand the camera on. We 
 visited the covered baths on our way back through the village, 
 and found them to be large enclosed sheds built over a square of 
 steaming water. They were not altogether inviting, for in addition 
 to the sulphur there was a strong human smell about them, which 
 hung in the hot and heavy vapour that rose everywhere from the 
 surface of the water. Everything was damp and clammy, dripping 
 with the condensed steam, so that it was a relief to get into the 
 fresh air again. 
 
 On returning to the bungalow, to our intense astonishment we 
 met a stranger in our chaprassis' uniform, who sahimed in a grave 
 and reverent fashion. " Gracious heavens, it's the jemadar ! " we 
 exclaimed, unable to control our laughter. " jemadar ji, what 
 have you been doing to yourself ? " But no answering smile came 
 back from his grave face, for he was in sober earnest. "Sahib 
 salam ! The Presence remembers that a year ago my brother, the 
 son of my mother, being very ill, died, and then in my grief I 
 vowed that no knife should cut my hair or my beard until my 
 sorrow should be past. Now, Protector of the Poor, in this holy 
 place I have laid my sorrow down, for I have bathed in the water, 
 and will mourn no more for my brother who is dead." The jemadar 
 had indeed transformed himself. Yesterday his thick black beard 
 and moustache and his flowing hair gave him a rough unkempt 
 look, hiding almost all his features ; to-day he stood before us, with 
 his head and face clean shaven, almost painful in his nakedness !
 
 70 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 Poor old jemadar, he seemed in general to take life rather sadly, for 
 he was given to very few words, and a smile scarcely ever passed 
 his lips. 
 
 We came to the conclusion that if we stayed here much longer 
 our servants would all turn into saints and fly away to a land 
 where they would no longer have to serve the Sahib, so we gave 
 orders that they were to be ready next morning for another march 
 up the valley. 
 
 We heard from the neghi that the path beyond this would 
 not admit of the ponies being taken ; we therefore decided to 
 leave them here with their saises, together with everything that 
 we could possibly spare, so as to march as hght as possible. We 
 knew that we would be obliged to return to Manikarn and could 
 then pick up all that we had left behind. 
 
 It was with great difficulty, however, that our six men tore 
 themselves away next morning, seeming to consider us very 
 heartless for not allowing them another day to idle here ; but we 
 were inexorable and insisted on their starting before us, with the 
 fifteen kulis with whom the neghi had provided us. 
 
 Immediately on leaving Manikarn we scrambled over a small 
 chff which shuts the village in at its upper end, and descended 
 again into the narrow valley, up which we continued for the whole 
 day's march. It was quite a relief to get out of the little sunless 
 village, buried in the shade of its immense cliff, and to find our- 
 selves in this beautiful sunny valley. Here at last we had reached 
 the true alpme scenery, and nothing in Nature could be more 
 charming than this nine-mile march between Manikarn and Pulga. 
 Here was the picturesque village standing on a knoll, surrounded 
 by its terraced fields and shaded by a clump of magnificent 
 deodars ; here were the vast pine-woods sweeping down the steep 
 mountain side into the very torrent rushing below ; here could be 
 seen the alps and rocky precipices above ; while at the head of the 
 valley, in the clear atmosphere, glistened the dazzling snow-fields 
 never yet defiled by man's feet. An hour's walking brought us
 
 CHAP. Ill 
 
 THE UPPER PARE ATI VALLEY 
 
 71 
 
 to Uchieh village, in the neighbourhood of which are the best 
 silver mines in the valley, but these we had not time to visit ; and 
 then the path, which had laboriously climbed to this height, 
 dropped again with great rapidity until it reached the torrent 
 itself, which just had before seemed so far below. 
 
 The neghi, who had come with us, stopped here to superintend 
 the rebuilding of a small timber bridge which had been swept 
 away in the last melting of the snows. Some half a dozen men were 
 very leisurely dragging the logs into their places, a somewhat heavy 
 job, for they had no appliances of any kind to assist them. 
 Except at this spot where the bridge was washed away, I think it 
 would have been possible to have got our ponies along the road as 
 far as Pulga. In one or two places, however, rocks overhang the 
 path, which would prevent any large pony passing, but possibly 
 these too might be successfully negotiated by removing the pony's 
 saddle, to enable him to scrape underneath. But a pony would 
 not be of any great assistance 
 on this march, for the path so 
 continuously rises and falls that 
 very little of it could be done 
 with any comfort on horseback. 
 It is rather a tiring march, as a 
 whole, on foot, for as the torrent 
 continually flows through narrow 
 gorges, the path with provoking 
 regularity is forced to climb over 
 them in a series of gigantic 
 steeplechases. We passed con- 
 tinually large flocks of sheep and 
 goats returning from their sum- 
 mer on the high alps whence the 
 first falls of snow had driven 
 them. The sheep were not unlike the lop-eared Bergamesque 
 animals that are met with so often in Southern Switzerland, and 
 
 THE TAIL OF THE FLOCK
 
 72 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 the shepherd who walked at the tail of the flock urging on his 
 charges with sharp whistles, invariably had his bosom full of the 
 latest additions to the herd who were as yet too young to brave 
 the perils of a Kulu path. 
 
 About half-way another village is seen picturesquely hanging 
 to the opposite mountain side, a cluster of brown chalets 
 surrounded by terraced fields ; but beyond this no habitations are 
 seen until we reach Pulga, which is the highest village in the 
 valley. A good hour's walk through a well-wooded ra\dne along 
 the banks of the rushing torrent brought us at last to a more 
 open space, where Pulga lies a few hundred feet up, on the left 
 bank, surrounded by magnificent deodar forests. The glorious 
 snows here burst upon us all round as we hurried across the 
 sangha bridge, which, stepping from boulder to boulder, carries 
 the path across the water up to the village above. We raced 
 at our best speed up the steep path to catch the last of the 
 setting sun, and as we reached the first houses, the immense 
 snowy mass appeared at the head of the nala, just above us. 
 It almost took one's breath away to see the great mountain 
 towering so close, 11,000 feet above us, for up to now we had 
 marched through such confined valleys that we had little idea of 
 our near approach to the snows. 
 
 The sun had already, at half-past three, dropped behind the 
 high ridge above the village, and threw a shadow over the 
 picturesque wooden chalets and homely farms that made up the 
 foreground ; the dark pines rose in steep tiers on either side of the 
 nala, forming a V, within whose arms rose the great white mountain, 
 glistening and sparkling in the sun like a thousand diamonds. 
 The whole shape and appearance of the scene recalled to us the 
 Jungfrau from the lower Lauterbrunnen valley, except that here 
 we were much closer to the snows. 
 
 We gazed for a long tune at the great glaciers and pure snow- 
 fields, every detail of which was sharply defined in the clear 
 atmosphere, and watched the ever-lengthening shadows cast their
 
 PULGA
 
 CHAP. Ill THE PULGA GLACIERS 73 
 
 purple veils across the white expanse. Then we went up through 
 the village into the pine-woods, where the Forest Bungalow stands 
 somewhat shut out from the beautiful views that surround it. 
 The chowkidar brought the key of the well-built little house, and 
 we were soon trying to make ourselves comfortable and keep out 
 the cold by piling logs upon the hearth. It was an extremely 
 chilly evening, for Pulga is 7200 feet above the sea and it w^as the 
 middle of November, besides which the squirrels had filled the 
 bungalow chimneys with their nests, so that the smoke poured in 
 volumes out into the room. We tried in turn all the fire remedies 
 that we had learnt in our youth, first stuffing wet handkerchiefs 
 into our mouths, then as the tears streamed down our cheeks, 
 lying upon the floor to get the clearer air, only to find that in this 
 somewhat uncomfortable position the draught nearly blew our 
 heads off". Finally we retired discomfited, and shivered on the 
 verandah, while Badiilla carried out the smoking logs and with 
 many anathemas threw them on the ground outside ; and as soon 
 as the atmosphere of the room regained something of its pristine 
 purity and chilliness, we returned and sought to warm ourselves, 
 internally at least, by swallowing some soup that Abdurrahman 
 now laid upon the table for our dinner. 
 
 We had sent for a man who was supposed to know the 
 mountains about here from being the best hunter in the village, 
 and after dinner a little dark thick -set fellow appeared, who 
 answered to the name of Jakhi. He was dressed in the ordinary 
 woollen pantaloons and blanket tunic of the country, and expressed 
 himself willing to lead us wherever we wished. After a long 
 conversation with him, in which he frequently stated his opinion 
 that it was too late in the year to go on to the higher grounds, we 
 agreed that he should take us up next day to the alp above the 
 forest, from which point at any rate we would get a clear view of 
 the surrounding snows. 
 
 We had the usual difficulty here in buying a sheep for our 
 men, none of the well-to-do villagers caring to part with theirs.
 
 74 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 and it was only on our reminding the neghi that he was bound to 
 supply the required animal in return for our rupees, that a miser- 
 able specimen was produced for our inspection. A primitive 
 balance was then made by hanging a pole by its middle to the 
 branch of a tree, from one end of which the sheep was suspended, 
 while from the other, most happy-go-lucky weights were hung, in 
 the form of large stones, which were said by the vendors without 
 fear of contradiction, to be of the specified weights. These occa- 
 sions are made great functions of ; all the servants collecting in a 
 circle, in the anticipation of getting a free meal, while the villagers, 
 on their side, assemble to throw every difficulty in the way of a 
 settlement of the bargain. Every one has his word to say as to the 
 merits and demerits of the unfortunate beast which is the centre 
 of attraction, the servants indeed having little scruple in looking 
 the gift horse very narrowly in the mouth. We wished our 
 people to have one good feed at any rate, before starting for the 
 higher ground where the cold would be great ; but it is, in reality, 
 a doubtful benefit to give meat to natives. They are so unac- 
 customed to the digestion of it, that a sudden and somewhat liberal 
 supply is apt to upset even the most robust of them ; for when 
 called upon next morning to exert themselves, they approach with 
 downcast countenances, announcing to the Protector of the Poor 
 that they have a pain in what, for want of a more polite phrase, 
 we must call the Usual Place. 
 
 Next morning saw us start up into the forest with lighter 
 hearts and lighter baggage, as we had again reduced "the 
 necessaries " in order to take as few kulis as possible on to the 
 high ground ; for it was settled that they should stay with us to 
 fetch wood and water, and as we had no tent to offer them, they 
 would have to make the best of it and sleep out in the open. 
 
 Jakhi led the way up a narrow path, zigzagging through the 
 splendid trees, and ever mounting higher and higher. The morning 
 was a heavenly one, with rather a keener and drier feeling in the air 
 than is usual in Switzerland at these heights, and perhaps owing
 
 CHAP. Ill 
 
 A HIGH GAMP 75 
 
 to the rarity of the atmosphere, the sun beat somewhat fiercely 
 down on us whenever we crossed an open glade. Our men were 
 in excellent spirits, the hardy villagers making light of their 
 somewhat heavy burdens as they stepped from rock to rock with 
 their grass-shod feet, or mounted steadily up the more slippery 
 pine-needle-strewn forest path, and frequently the forest resounded 
 with their merry laughter. We saw but little all the morning, for 
 the trees shut out all distant views, but by the lie of the ground 
 we made out that Jakhi was taking us up the steep ridge that 
 forms the left bank of the Pulga nala. 
 
 After about two hours' steady ascent, we halted to examine some 
 fresh tracks of bears which had evidently been digging there that 
 morning. The Himalayan black bear, so well known by the white 
 crescent on his chest, though a night feeder, is frequently to be 
 met with in the daytime, especially in November, when he is 
 searching the forests for acorns, which, with the wild raspberries 
 and any summer fruit, form his chief vegetable food. 
 
 We told the kulis, therefore, to continue quietly up the ridge, 
 making as little noise as possible, while we, taking our rifles, 
 followed Jakhi down into the ravine up which we went, in the 
 hopes of coming across any bear that the kulis above might have 
 disturbed. Fortune, however, did not favour us, and after a hard 
 scramble we emerged out of the upper limit of the forest on to a 
 brown knoll ; and there straight opposite us, not a mile away across 
 a ravine, stood the great snowy mass with its hanging glaciers 
 pouring like waterfalls from the icy basins above. 
 
 We almost shouted for joy as we rushed to the top of the 
 knoll, for here we were indeed amongst the snows at last ; and it 
 did not take us long to decide to camp on this spot, at any rate for 
 the night, at this height of 10,200 feet, for the forest was only 
 half a mile below us, from which the kulis could get as much wood 
 as they liked, while Jakhi knew of a spring that was not frozen 
 down in the ravine below us. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the beauty of the scene around us. The
 
 76 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 snow-covered ridges came down to within a few hundred feet 
 above us. The whole of an immense snow mountain rose to a 
 height of 18,000 feet just across the head of the Pulga nala in our 
 front. Below us was the blue depth of the Parbati valley, at the 
 head of which stood a great rocky cone, marked on the map as 
 M4 19,000 feet. On the opposite side of the Parbati, facing us 
 like a great wall, were the buttresses of Papidarm, whose jagged 
 peaks rose in fantastic shapes out of the upper snow slopes which 
 were supported in turn by the cliffs underneath. 
 
 Long before we had drunk our fill of this glorious amphitheatre, 
 the men had pitched our tents and the kulis were bringing up 
 dry logs from the forest below in preparation for the coming night ; 
 for as soon as the sun dropped over the ridge above, we knew that 
 we should be dependent on the fire for any warmth in the place. 
 We spent the short remaining dayliglit in the photographer's 
 unfailing resource of overhauling our kit and seeing that 
 all was in order, for it is only by continual attention to these 
 details that the many unforeseen dangers to the negatives can 
 be with certainty avoided. 
 
 Night closed in with wonderful rapidity, and after our evening 
 meal we strolled out, away from the glare of the camp fire before 
 our tent, to try and impress the position we were in on our 
 feeble memories. Wrapped as we were in our sheepskin coats, the 
 marvellous stillness of the air prevented us from feeling any cold 
 at all. Everything around was full of the mystery of night. Our 
 great white mass of eternal snow, though scarcely visible in the 
 bright starlight, stood like a giant above us, seeming to crush 
 us into insignificance by the vastness of his ghostly presence. The 
 distant roar of the many torrents, set free from his glaciers by the 
 day's hot sun, rose up from the ravine below out of the intense 
 stillness. It was difficult, when standing here surrounded by the 
 whole majesty of Nature in the heart of the Himalayas, seemingly 
 so far removed from all earthly surroundings, to realise that we 
 still held in our hands a line that bound us to the hurrying and
 
 CHAP. Ill MADHO'S SHIRT TAILS 77 
 
 bustling civilisation, with all the narrowness and littlenesses which 
 form so great a part of modern life. 
 
 We turned to walk down to our men, who were gathered round 
 an immense fire of their own, and whose animated discussion on 
 the price of flour showed that, in spite of a square meal off 
 the Pulga sheep, all was yet well. With true Christian charity, 
 we had stripped ourselves of any garments that we could spare 
 for the benefit of our servants, whose wardrobe is necessarily some- 
 what scanty. My contribution was a pair of woollen stockings to 
 Nainu, and to Madho, the old camera-carrier, a flannel shirt. Never 
 was virtue more its own reward, for Madho ever after wore the 
 garment in native fashion, with the tails hanging down outside his 
 pyjamas, and as my name was emblazoned on these extremities, I 
 continually felt the same pride that fills the Mayor of Little 
 Peddlingtoii, who, in erecting a statue in his market-place to the 
 Queen, has added his own name beneath that of Her Gracious 
 Majesty. 
 
 We slept soundly that night in spite of the extreme cold, which 
 froze the milk we had brought up into a solid mass, and which 
 covered the ground with glistening hoar-frost ; but it was a long 
 time before the servants thawed enough to start their usual 
 occupations next morning. 
 
 Natives are frequently abused for their inability to stand cold, 
 but often little allowance is made for the very scanty provision of 
 warm clothing that they possess. A woollen tunic and a woollen 
 pair of pyjamas, with a single blanket, are considered ample for a 
 servant, when the master is glad of all the thick clothes he possesses, 
 with the addition of his warm bedding at night. The kulis after 
 all had the best of it, for they had all retired to a shepherd's cave 
 in the rocks below for the night, the entrance to which they 
 closed by a huge fire, which, if it did nothing else, must have 
 covered them with a layer of smoke sufficient to keep out any 
 possible cold. 
 
 We left the camp standing that day, while Jakhi took us for
 
 78 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 an expedition up a ridge which stood out against the sky-line 
 above us. It was with great difficulty that we could make our 
 way up in places, for the ground was at a very steep angle, and the 
 fresh-fallen snow had thawed during the day only to freeze again 
 into a smooth surface of ice. On such ground as this the 
 " steigeisen," which can at once be fixed on to the heels of 
 one's boots, and which are common in Tirol, would have been 
 invaluable. 
 
 The views all round were most extensive and magnificent, 
 every detail, even at an immense distance, being clearly defined 
 in the pure atmosphere. We made rather poor progress over the 
 bad ground, and as we saw no hopes of getting a more extended 
 view by mounting higher, we turned, after reaching a height of 
 11,800 feet by our aneroid. In descending we took another way, 
 down into a nala, where, in the rhododendron scrub, St.G. had a 
 long shot at a musk-deer. It was a source of continual regret to 
 me not to be on this high ground in the early summer, when all 
 the alpine flowers carpet the ground in such profusion. The 
 rhododendrons here were the large broad-leaved kind, the back of 
 whose leaves are of red-brown velvet. They grow in bushes about 
 as high as one stands, in great masses on the mountain side above 
 the level of the forests, and in the spring-time it must indeed be a 
 splendid sight. Unlike the common rhododendron which grows in 
 England, and which covers the lower Himalayas with forest trees, 
 these bushes that grow on the higher ground have much larger and 
 more single bell-shaped flowers, almost of the consistency of wax. 
 Jakhi told us they grew here both in white and red varieties. 
 
 It is difficult to say which time of year would be the best for 
 a tour in the Himalayas. In the spring the weather is very un- 
 certain, snow still falling at times on the higher ground. In early 
 summer all the flowers are to be found, but no distant views are 
 to be seen on account of the great haze which spreads up from the 
 hot plains below and envelops everything. Then come the rainy 
 months of June, July, and August, and it is not until September
 
 CHAP. Ill 
 
 IVE TURN BACK 79 
 
 that the weather settles down to its exquisite and uniform 
 serenity. So that perhaps September and October may be con- 
 sidered the best months ; but, alas ! the flowers have by this time 
 all gone, and it is then too late for any expeditions which entail 
 any prolonged stay near the higher glaciers. 
 
 We got back to camp in the afternoon, and were glad to throw 
 ourselves on our beds and have recourse to art, in the shape of a 
 solitary novel that we had brought with us, after our long day 
 with Nature. 
 
 Next morning, as there was nothing further to be done, we ran 
 down through the forest, and were at Pulga again by lunch-time. 
 We had had it in our minds to continue up the uninhabited valley 
 for another march, to an alp called Thakur Tua, at the junction of 
 the Eatti Eoni and Panda Sao nalas, which form the head waters 
 of the Parbati where they issue from the glaciers ; Jakhi was also 
 anxious to take us for a march up the Tose nala, which joins the 
 Parbati opposite Pulga, to a grazing ground called Samsi, at the 
 foot of the Tose Nal glacier, where he promised us ibex. But 
 while we were pondering over these alternatives, a message arrived 
 which altered all ovir plans, as it entailed St.G.'s presence, in con- 
 nection with his work, in the Kulu valley. There was no help 
 for it, so after settling with the neghi about kulis to take us back 
 to Manikarn on the morrow, we strolled down to look round the 
 village. 
 
 It needed only a single look to be struck by the well-to-do 
 comfort of these highlanders. Well-built stone and wood houses, 
 constructed of the splendid timber growing in the forest at their 
 very doors, granaries full to overflowing with the harvest, ample 
 yards into which the cattle are driven in the evening on their 
 return from the day's grazing, were to be seen everywhere. Well- 
 dressed, bonny-looking women leant over their balconies, or stopped 
 their heavy labour of thrashing the grain to crack a joke with us, 
 while their husbands passed in, carrying great loads of grass on 
 their backs from the hills above. Children played about every-
 
 80 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 where, or rather followed us in idle ciiriositj, in no way unlike 
 their Western contemporaries. Everything betokened such ease 
 and plenty in this lovely surrounding, with its fine climate, that 
 we came to the conclusion that many worse places were to be 
 found in the world than Pulga, the highest village in the Mani- 
 karn valley. 
 
 We had a delightful walk down the valley next day, only 
 varied by an exciting hunt after a troop of tutrialas, or pine 
 martens, that we observed drinking in the torrent below. The 
 rapidity with which these little creatures can make their way up- 
 hill, leaping from rock to rock, is surprising. Their fur in winter 
 is a beautiful black-brown on the back, with yellow verging to 
 white under the belly, and if a sufficient quantity could be got, a 
 very handsome rug might be formed by sewing them together. It 
 is difficult to shoot them, however, in any great numbers, for, like 
 all these animals, they roam more frequently at night ; but there 
 is no great difficulty in catching a sufficient quantity if traps are 
 systematically set for the purpose. 
 
 That night I slept again in the steamy little rooms of the 
 Manikarn bungalow, and next morning St.G-. and I parted, he 
 riding away down the valley, taking with him most of the servants 
 and baggage and my pony, while I stayed behind, for I had made 
 up my mind to cross the Eashol and Malauna Passes, and so 
 descend into the Upper Kulu valley. 
 
 The day was spent in getting my things into a more portable 
 shape, for two high passes had to be crossed, and my object was to 
 have as little to carry as possible. My party consisted of myself, 
 Nainu, and Madho, Badiilla to cook, and Anandi the Gurhwali 
 chaprassi, whom St.G. kindly lent to me, and who was invaluable 
 in superintending everything on the march. Carrying a tent for 
 myself and a small one for the servants, I found I could not do 
 with less than ten kulis, especially as their loads had to be con- 
 siderably lightened for these hard marches. The neghi promised 
 to send a man on to Ptashol that afternoon, to warn them there
 
 ■•^1'
 
 CHAP. Ill A GYMKHANA AT MANIKARN 81 
 
 that men would he wanted to take nie on to Malauna on the 
 following day. 
 
 In the Manikarn bungalow there is a small brick-lined pit 
 forming the bath-room, into which, by damming a little channel 
 outside by means of some sods, the boiling stream can be con- 
 ducted. That night I cleansed myself bodily and spiritually by 
 descending into this Pool of Siloam, which Nainu had filled for me 
 during the day. The water was still almost unbearably hot, and 
 the whole proceeding was rather suggestive of snakes and toads as, 
 by the dim light of a candle, I groped my way down the dark 
 steps into the steamy, slimy pit. However, there is no doubt that, 
 with the help of Hindu Providence and a good cake of soap, the 
 Manikarn water is very efficacious in relieving one of superfluities 
 of all kinds. 
 
 My surprise was unbounded in the course of my afternoon's 
 stroll, when, on turning the corner of a chalet in this alpine 
 village, I came upon a game of cricket in full swing ! I could 
 hardly believe my eyes. Yet there it was, with bats roughly 
 cut from an old plank, the regulation three stumps of rather 
 unorthodox lengths, and a ball made up of a hard lump of rag. 
 It was the Manikarn school (I won't say "eleven," for I don't 
 suppose there was that number of boys in the school altogether) 
 spending their half-holiday in the enjoyment of the noble game. 
 The ground, it is true, was not large, for the clilis rose steep on 
 one side and the torrent roared fiercely on the other ; but a few 
 square yards of level ground had been squeezed in between two 
 chalets, and there the game proceeded with much vigour, one of 
 the fielders spending most of his time on the shingle roofs, that 
 always afforded a safe run from a well -placed hit. The game 
 had, no doubt, been taught by some Assistant Commissioner to 
 the teacher, and he, in coming up here to this out-of-the-way 
 village, had brought it witli him, to the great delight of the boys. 
 
 It is pleasant to notice the care that is given to stimulate such 
 rational amusements for young India. In no country in the world 
 
 G
 
 82 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 do the boys stand more in need of the open manliness that is fostered 
 by honourable competition in outdoor games, and I could not help 
 wisliing that the young Englishman who, at some time or other, 
 started the game in Kulu, had been present ; he would have been 
 amply rewarded for the time and trouble he had given in sowing 
 the seed, in the sight of it growing and jflourishing up in this odd 
 distant corner of the world. 
 
 Having found the sporting element of Manikarn thus gathered 
 together, we extemporised a " gymkhana," and spent the remainder 
 of the afternoon in races, long jumps, high jumps, with two-anna 
 pieces as prizes. The hundred yards course was indeed not quite 
 level, for it consisted of a race to bring me a leaf off a bush that 
 grew some sixty yards up the steep cliff; but at the word " Jao ! " 
 they were all off. Grown men, lads, and urchins — up they went 
 in less time than it takes me to write it, leaping from rock to rock 
 like a lierd of chamois, as nimble as cats ; and as for their descent, 
 there seemed only a cloud of dust and a shower of stones down 
 the mountain side, out of which the eager winner darted forward 
 and thrust the leaf into my hands amidst the shouts of the excited 
 villagers. 
 
 I made an easy start next mornuig, for the march to Eashol 
 village was no great one. The kulis were already off under Anandi's 
 care when the servants and I started on the little path that leads 
 down the narrow valley on the right bank of the Parbati to the 
 village of Chilaul. Thus far it is a dehghtful walk of a couple of 
 hours with varied ups and downs; now passing along terraced 
 fields and again descending to the torrent's bank, from which we 
 disturbed a fine otter in passing. I pulled up at Chilaul, and 
 while eating my sandwiches, and resting preparatory to tackling 
 the steep ascent to Eashol, which lies some 2500 feet straight above, 
 Nainu brought word that a covey of grey partridges were feeding on 
 one of the terraces near, so, taking my gun, I sent the men round 
 to drive them towards where I posted myself, and soon the 
 cliffs around were echoing with loud reports, which somewhat
 
 CHAP. Ill PLENTIFUL GAME 83 
 
 startled the village maidens, who had been unaware of my approach. 
 The birds scattered, and I was lucky enough to get one out of 
 the drive and to pick up another which happened to pitch in 
 the ravine up which the path to Rishol took us. 
 
 Game was very plentiful here, for my toil up the steep and 
 stony path was frequently interrupted by excursions after the black 
 kallidge pheasant. There were evidently no village shikaris about 
 here, since the birds, when pursued actively enough to make them 
 rise at all, simply fluttered up into a bush out of arm's reach, and 
 from there complacently surveyed the excited sportsman, as much 
 as to say, " Look here, old fellow, play the game ; you surely are not 
 goincr to be such a cad as to touch me if I don't choose to run." 
 With a good spaniel to flush the birds, an excellent day's sport 
 might be got here, for there was plenty of game, and that without 
 going any distance off the path to look for it. 
 
 After shooting a couple of brace for the pot, the servants 
 seemed to think they had enough to carry, so we struggled on 
 for another hour, until suddenly the little village appeared just 
 above us, and in another fifteen minutes I was standing on a narrow 
 terraced platform in front of two picturesquely carved wooden 
 chalet temples. The good people had swept it clean for me, and 
 soon had my tents pitched, and then I had time to look round. 
 
 As I had been coming up the steep climb with my face to the 
 hill all the way, [ had not taken nnich notice of what was behind 
 me, but now as I stood on the little terrace in front of my tent, 
 one step from which would have landed me far down into the ravine 
 below, I could see far, far down beneath me a strip of the I*arbati 
 valley almost lost in the soft blue haze of the evening light ; to 
 the right was the bold wooded bluff that shut in the view on this 
 side, while across the deep abyss rose a beautiful great mountain, 
 the snow on which was growing pink and the shadows opal-coloured 
 in the setting sun. 
 
 But it was not a time to admire scenery, for from every rock 
 almost in the neighbourhood came the " chuck-chck-chck " of the
 
 84 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 cock chikor partridge, shouting defiance to his rival; so, stuffing 
 my pockets full of cartridges and calling Xainu to bring the gun, 
 I was soon scrambling up the steep mountain side in full pur- 
 suit of the many coveys. In spite of the exhaustion caused by 
 steeplechasing over narrow terraced fields which cover the hill- 
 side here in six-foot steps, I had the best half-hour's sport with 
 the chikor that I had anywhere in the Himalayas. The birds were 
 plentiful and fiew to no great distance, and all too soon the short 
 twilight made us turn our steps back to the picturesque brown 
 cluster of houses clinging to the steep hillside, where the lights of 
 the evening fires had already begun to twinkle. 
 
 The neghi came to salam and to tell me that he would now return 
 to Manikarn, as this was the end of his beat ; and he introduced 
 the lumbadtir, who declared that the kulis would be ready next 
 morning without fail, and that grass, milk, and wood were all at my 
 service in plenty. The villagers in this quaint little place were 
 especially civil and considerate, and I heard no objection made even 
 to the servants, who, finding the god was spending a night out, had 
 taken possession of one of his temples behind me, where they made 
 themselves exceedingly at home with the large bundles of hay 
 they found in the loft. 
 
 I knew I had a long day's work before me next day, but beyond 
 the fact that I had first to go over the Eashol Pass and then down 
 to the Malauna torrent and from there up to the village of that 
 name, I covild gather nothing from the lumbadar — who, however, 
 confessed that the path was in rather a bad state, but declared 
 that, hearing the day before that I was coming, he had sent a man 
 at once to put it in order ! 
 
 With a long march ahead of you, you can never make a mistake 
 in starting too early, but, in spite of every effort, I found it im- 
 possible to get everything packed and started before half- past 
 eight next morning. The tents are still wet with dew ; breakfast 
 has to be cooked, and the pots and pans litter the ground up to the 
 last moment ; the bed has to be taken to pieces, and that receptacle
 
 CHAP. HI THE BASHOL PASS 85 
 
 for all forgotten articles, the bedding-roll, has to be made up. All 
 these things combine, and each adds its little delay, so that it was 
 later than I wished when Anandi started with the kulis, and we 
 followed them out of the little ^■illage of pleasant recollections. 
 The lovely fresh morning put good heart into the men as they 
 breasted the hill straight away, but I noticed that before half an 
 hour was passed, all joking had ceased and they reserved their breath 
 for the more serious work of getting their loads to the top of the 
 pass. Indeed, the track was of the steepest ; in places rough steps 
 in the rock took us in a bee-line upwards, and in others, where it 
 was too steep even for this, we had recourse to little zigzags, so 
 short as to make one almost giddy with the continual turning. In 
 this way we continued up the bare mountain side for two hours, 
 until we got on to a little ridge which ran down from the pass 
 itself, and where we halted a little to allow the kulis to come up. 
 Anandi was having no light work in getting them along, for they 
 could not pass a single projecting rock without giving way to the 
 temptation of resting their back load upon it. From here we had 
 another 1500 feet of the same steep angle, up which we made but 
 slow progress. 
 
 It was now eleven o'clock, and the sun was streaming down in 
 all its heat on our backs, not a particle of wind stirred the thin 
 air, and, though we were still lower than 10,000 feet, I began to 
 feel the effects of the rarefied atmosphere very nmch. Every few- 
 minutes I had to halt w^ith beating heart, and gasp for breath. 
 As long as no exertion was made no inconvenience whatever was 
 felt, but the inability to continue any effort was very distressing. 
 Judging by my own experience, this question of rarefied air does not 
 depend altogether on the altitude but rather on the atmospheric 
 conditions at the time being. The distress seems to be mostly 
 occasioned by the absolute stillness and want of circulation in the 
 attenuated air one breathes, combined with the intense fierceness 
 of the sun, which meets with little resistance in the dryness of the 
 atmosphere through which it passes. On the INIalauna Pass, on
 
 86 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 the following day, where we were more than 2000 feet higher, 
 we experienced no discomfort whatever, and I attributed this 
 entirely to the strong fresh breeze that blew all that day in our 
 faces. 
 
 There is no doubt that the difficulties arising out of the heat of 
 the sun, combined with the extreme dryness and stillness of the 
 air, will always have to be reckoned with in any ascents in the 
 Higher Himalayas, 
 
 At last, however, in spite of the many halts, we reached the 
 little gap in the sharp ridge which forms the pass at the height 
 of 10,670 feet, and looked over into the deep Malauna valley 
 into which we were going to descend. The view was limited by 
 the high rocks of the ridge on which we stood, but looking back 
 we could get an idea of the immense depth in the drop down into 
 the Parbati valley from wliich we had come, while away above it 
 stood the beautiful group of Pulga snows, sharp and clear, forming 
 a long and jagged ridge opposite to us. I stayed only long enough 
 to take some photographs, and then ran down after the kulis 
 through the snow which lay thick on the ground on the farther 
 and shady side of the mountain. 
 
 Some little way down we got our first view of the solitary 
 Malauna village, which stands here cut off from all the world, and 
 which is approachable only by the way we had come, or by de- 
 scending from the summit of the Malauna Pass, that hangs 4000 
 feet almost perpendicularly above the clustering chalets. Prom 
 where we stood we looked with interest at the great wall up 
 which we would have to go on the morrow ; and though the 
 path itself cannot be seen in the photograph, it zigzags straight 
 up the ravine, which may be observed lying in the shadow just 
 to the right of the Adllage, the pass itself being at the very top of 
 the gully. 
 
 The kulis found it easier going down than up, and with the 
 start they got while I was taking my photograph, kept well ahead 
 of me as I ran down the little path through the pine forest, which.
 
 Malauua Pas 
 
 MALAUNA VILLAGE FROM THE RASHOL PASS
 
 CHAP. Ill MALAUNA VILLAGE 87 
 
 in 2500 feet of fall, brought us to a somewhat rickety wooden bridge 
 that was here thrown across the torrent ; seven hundred feet of 
 steady rise then took us up to the village of Malauna itself. 
 
 I had been warned that I should find the Malauna folk quarrel- 
 some, and as soon as I arrived, several individuals, one of whom 
 turned out to be the neghi of the place himself, approached and 
 addressed us in loud rough voices, in a language that none of us 
 could understand, but by their gestures we made out that they did 
 not wish us to enter their village, so to avoid trouble we followed 
 their directions and endeavoured to find a level piece of ground 
 large enough to pitch the tents on, above the houses. 
 
 There is something mysterious about this lonely little colony 
 of human beings, for they know not themselves from whence they 
 came, but buried here in this narrow valley, they keep themselves 
 entirely aloof from their neighbours over the mountains. Though 
 they dress much as do the other inhabitants of Kulu, they have 
 quite a different type of face, somewhat Jewish in appearance, 
 with a prominent nose and weak, narrow chin. Their language 
 also is totally distinct, which is a proof of their almost complete 
 isolation for some centuries, since it is inconceivable that they 
 could have come from anywhere but from the plains below. They 
 have, indeed, a tradition of the Emperor Akbar's kindness to them ; 
 but beyond this it is most difficult to learn anything of them, for 
 they are most densely ignorant and incapable of giving information. 
 They don't seem, however, to lack of this world's goods, for the 
 houses are well built and there is an air of prosperity about the 
 whole village and its surroundings. 
 
 Seeing that we had not come to give him any trouble, the 
 somewhat evil -looking neghi became less surly, although our 
 conversation was limited to shouts on his part and gesticulations 
 on mine, and I went down with him to see the lower village, in 
 which is an open space, surrounded by curiously carved chalet 
 temples. In this square sat a crowd of men spinning wool with 
 their hands, and shouting at each other with loud rough voices,
 
 88 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 whicli gave one the impressiou of ceaseless quarrelling. They 
 would not let me go into the temples, and seemed to consider the 
 whole of the square rather sacred, so I sent Nainu for the " picture 
 hox " and explained to the neghi as well as I could, by means of 
 arm-waving, that I wished to immortalise him. He must have 
 got some inkling as to my meaning, for he took up a position in 
 the middle of the square in as stiff and unnatural a posture as 
 the most ardent photographer could have wished for. 
 
 The temples were picturesque in design and covered with 
 rough carving and pendent ornaments. It seems strange that so 
 little is known of these queer people who have thus for so long 
 lived out of the world. 
 
 I had told the servants to make no difficulties, but, except for 
 the noisy shouting in the village which was kept up nearly all 
 night, the people gave us no trouble and the night passed without any 
 disturbance. I lay awake for a long time listening to a solitary jackal 
 who w^andered restlessly about uttering his mournful " pi-a-o " (for 
 all the world Hke the mewing of a large cat) ; while the inevitable 
 accompaniment of all these alpine villages could be heard in the 
 ceaseless roar of the torrent far below, rising up through the still 
 night air. 
 
 It was nearly nine o'clock next morning before the things were 
 packed ready for the kuhs, but we got away at last and soon 
 settled down to a monotonous ascent of 4000 feet. Some idea of the 
 scale on which everything is made in this country may be gathered 
 from the fact that this 4000 feet was up one single straight ravine, 
 which appeared from the Rashol Pass opposite simply to be a little 
 scratch in the mountain side I Our progress was again slow, for 
 the little stony track mounted as steep almost as the stones would 
 lie, and even the kulis sat down frequently to rest. We pushed 
 on steadily, however, and after tlie third hour had passed we 
 knew we must be getting near the top of the nala. A cold wind 
 swirled round us in a somesvhat threatening manner, giving us 
 the unusual feeling of unsettled weather; but on the whole we
 
 CHAP. Ill VIEJF FROM THE MALAUNA PASS 89 
 
 welcomed it, for it fanned our lungs, and took away a great deal 
 of the breathlessness from which we had previously suffered. 
 
 Two or three snow slopes brought us at last to the top of the 
 ridge, where, with great satisfaction at having accomplished our 
 mounting, we halted to look round. No words can give an idea of 
 the vastness of the panorama. It is so big that the individual 
 mountains look dwarfed, and one longs for a little concentra- 
 tion. I put up the camera with the inevitable disappoint- 
 ment at the poorness of the result, for where the eye fails to 
 take in a panorama there is but little chance of success for 
 the lens. 
 
 Over the edge of the snow in front of us was the deep cleft at 
 the bottom of which the Malauna torrent flowed 5000 feet below. 
 Straight opposite, looking as if you could reach it with your arm, 
 stood the immense buttress of Papidarm, over which we had come 
 yesterday,^ and beyond which lay the deep trench of the P;irbati 
 valley, with the Pulga snows in the far distance. Nearer, and to 
 the left, are the jagged peaks of Papidarm itself (18,000 feet) ; while 
 at the head of the Malauna valley lies the Malauna glacier, 
 descending from a circle of snowy cones. Looking along the 
 broken and rocky ridge on which we stood, we could see the great 
 snowy domes of Deotiba, a giant who raises his head over 
 20,000 feet above the sea ; while farther to the left, facing N.W., 
 rose the innumerable snowy peaks of Bara Baghal, over wliieli 
 some ominous storm-clouds were collecting. The Kulu valley, 
 between us and the Baghal Mountains, we could not see, for it lies 
 some distance off, deeply embedded in the pine forests, which cover 
 the hills below us on this side in a dense mass. 
 
 Standing here at this height of 12,200 feet, on what seemed 
 but a little ridge in the surrounding hills, it was difticult to 
 believe that we were not much below the height of the summit 
 of the Jungfrau, and that if that beautiful mountain could have 
 
 ^ The Rashol Pass is tlic right-hand of the two litth' i;aps in tho niidilh' ridge 
 seen in the photogi-aph from the Malanna Pass.
 
 90 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 been dropped down here, it would scarcely have commanded notice 
 in the vastness of the surrounding panorama. 
 
 The gusty wind was bitterly cold, and I packed up my photo 
 kit in haste to follow the kulis, who had got a good start of us. 
 I believe there is an easier track to the left along the ridge, l^ut 
 as it is somewhat longer, it is needless to say the kulis avoided it, 
 and went straight down the mountain side. We had an extremely 
 disagreeable hour until we got into the forest, for this northern 
 side of the mountain w^as deep in snow, which, having melted some- 
 what in the hot sun, had again frozen into smooth sheets of ice, 
 so that in places we were at a loss almost how to proceed. Not 
 expecting ice, I had only my leather sandals on, which afforded 
 little or no foothold on the slippery surface. How the kulis got 
 down is to this day a marvel to me, for we never caught them 
 up ; but their grass-covered feet must have held well to the ice, 
 for not one single man fell, in spite of the top-heavy burdens with 
 which their backs were loaded. 
 
 I was in some anxiety about my precious camera, for old 
 Madho, in spite of many years' wanderings in these mountains,^ on 
 several occasions involuntarily descended some of the slopes in 
 a sitting position, much to the detriment of his only pair of nether 
 garments. Nainu was really invaluable ; he took off his shoes to 
 give himself a better foothold, planted himself firmly at the worst 
 places, and was able to give me a hand in crossing every awkward 
 slope, or with the help of his alpenstock to lower me into a place 
 of safety. We made our way into the head of a ravine where the 
 rocks projected through the ice, and down which we were able to 
 make somewhat better progress," and I was not at all sorry to 
 
 1 Madho was the only member of oiu- party who had been on this ground before, 
 having previously crossed this pass in company with Colonel Tanner of the Survey 
 of India. 
 
 - Though I experienced no especial pain at the time, the roughness of this piece 
 of the march must have been considerable, for my feet, which were hard with much 
 walking, were much knocked about, and I subsequently lost the nails of both gi-eat 
 toes.
 
 FROM THE SUMMIT OF THE MALAUNA PASS. 12.200 F'
 
 CHAP. Ill END OF A LONG MARCH 91 
 
 step at last on to the hard frozen ground, where we could relieve 
 our cramped limbs by stepping out briskly. 
 
 We found a little track down the nala, and were soon follow- 
 ing the stream in its descent through the forest. Nainu whiled 
 away the long march of some nine miles down to Nagar with end- 
 less stories of the difficulties he had encountered on the Baspa Pass 
 and the wonders of the Nilung valley near Gangutri, the source 
 of the Ganges, whither he had once been sent in search of butter- 
 flies. The mind of a hill man is an extremely undeveloped article, 
 but one cannot help being struck by Natiu'e's eternal law of the 
 fitness of things, and the suitability of these simple children of 
 hers to the peaceful though limited conditions under which they 
 are born and bred. 
 
 Pulig village was the first sign of life we came to, and then 
 another long tramp down through the forest brought us to the 
 wooden chalets of Eamsu, where for the first time we began to 
 see the wide Kulu valley opening below us. We could not wait 
 here long, however, for it was already five o'clock, and we had still 
 a good hour's walk before we got down to Nagar. Evening closed 
 in apace, and it was quite dark by the time we groped our way 
 down the stony path on to the little terrace above the pointed 
 temple, where I found camp already pitched. 
 
 "Salam, Sahib; it is well that the Sahib has arrived," 
 came a soft voice out of the dark. " Anandi, is it you ? How 
 long have you been here ? " " It is half an hour since the 
 Presence's servants arrived. All things have come without loss, 
 and the kulis are ready. Sahib." And while Anandi held the 
 lantern, 1 walked along the line of shaggy -haired kulis, and 
 presented each with the hardly earned eight annas, which sent 
 him away happy after his nine hours' march over a pass 12,200 
 feet high. 
 
 I was too tired to do anything but pull off my clothes and my 
 chapplis, and tumble into the bed I found ready in my tent, from 
 which point of vantage I reflected on the happiness of having
 
 92 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 accomplished a long tramp, and the pleasing prospect of again 
 sitting on the "White Eat's back, until good Badulla brought in 
 his savoury messes, and best of all a bundle of letters which 
 Tuarsu, the sais, had brought up the valley from the post-office 
 for me. 
 
 KULU CHAK.MAK OR STRIKE-LIGHT
 
 CHAPTEK IV 
 
 The Upper Beas valley, into which we had now descended, and 
 which is known as Kulu proper, is at Nagar perhaps a mile wide ; 
 and seen from the village, which stands at a fair height up on the 
 hillside, the beautiful cultivated slopes stretch in great profusion 
 as far as the eye can reach, both up and down the valley. Pretty 
 villages are dotted here and there amidst these fields, and the 
 dark pine -woods sweep in long lines down the steep mountain 
 sides, forming bays and promontories in this sea of plenty. 
 
 It is indeed a land flowing with milk and honey, and it looked 
 none the less inviting to us after our stay in the wilder mountains. 
 Nagar itself, as well as its surroundings, bears the stamp of pros- 
 perity, and its situation at the foot of the pine-woods, overlooking 
 the valley below, shows at any rate great taste on the part of the 
 old Eajas who used it as their capital some three hundred years ago. 
 At present it is but one of the many prosperous villages of the 
 valley, the study of which always presents a scene of homely peace 
 and comfort. 
 
 The Kulu zamindar's house is generally solidly built of grey 
 dressed stone in the shape of a square, and is strengthened as well 
 as relieved in colour by the brown wooden beams that tie every 
 few courses together. A wooden balcony, running sometimes 
 completely round the upper story, projects most picturesquely 
 from the stone walls, and is often the subject of much skill and 
 attention in its ornamentation, especially where in the better
 
 94 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part r 
 
 houses it is arched in by columns and panelled with elaborately 
 designed wood-carving. It is here that the bright colours of the 
 women's dresses are to be seen passing to and fro, as with a laugh 
 they only half hide themselves from the stare of a stranger who 
 stops to admire the scene. Great flat stones cover the roof, on 
 which may be seen the golden heaps of drying corn, or a profusion 
 of millet almost smothering the whole m its warm embrace. 
 Every available shelter is piled up with the fruits of the year, 
 while the bees fly in and out of the holes left for them in the walls 
 with a busy hum. 
 
 Nor are the inhabitants of the house themselves less occupied. 
 The men have gone out in the morning, in charge of the little 
 black oxen, and are cultivating the terraced fields on the upland 
 above their home, with the primitive wooden plough that they 
 have carried up upon their shoulders. On the flat terrace beside 
 the house two laughmg girls, half-smothered in the mass of straw, 
 are pounding with heavy pole the hard-grained rice, to the accom- 
 paniment of a crooning song ; while alongside their brother follows 
 the patient bullocks, who circle round a rude mill, formed by an L- 
 shaped beam, the short end of which revolves laboriously in a large 
 hollow stone, expressing the oil from the kernels of the peaches 
 and apricots which he from time to time throws in. Children, 
 the same all the world over, play about, getting in every one's way, 
 until recalled by their mother, who stops her household work on 
 the balcony above to lean over and rebuke them. 
 
 As the day draws on, the other members of the household return, 
 driving, perhaps, the cattle from the alps above, or returning from 
 the dark forest with loads of firewood piled in kiltas^ on their backs, 
 a task which the strong, well-built girls are fully able to share with 
 the men. The whole is as bright and prosperous a scene of peasant 
 life as one could wish to see, and though no doubt he too, like 
 most of us, is troubled with the cares of life, yet we could not help 
 
 ^ These kiltas are in shape exactly like the baskets carried by the Swiss on their 
 backs.
 
 CHAP. IV NAGAR ZAMINDAES 95 
 
 thinking that, outwardly at any rate, the Ivuhi zaniincl;ir must be 
 reckoned as one whom the gods delight to please. 
 
 The spot where my camp was pitched was on the little terrace 
 in front of the conical-roofed temple, round which, forming a sort 
 of amphitheatre, the terraced ground rose in steep steps to the fine 
 deodar forest which surrounded us. To-day the place was cheerless 
 enough, for the Bara Baghal storm had burst upon us during the 
 night, driving in wintry gusts the mist-laden atmosphere up from 
 the valley below, and saturating our tents with the pitiless rain. 
 
 It is on this very spot, however, that quite a different scene is 
 enacted on a May morning, when the sound of the distant drumming, 
 accompanied by ear-piercing trumpet blasts, announces the approach 
 of the village gods to take part in the Nagar mela, or fair ; for to- 
 day is a Kulu holiday, and every one in the neighbourhood, from 
 hill above and vale beneath, must don their best clothes and 
 hie together to the festival. On every path are to be met brightly 
 dressed groups of women in all colours, and men gaily adorned with 
 flowers, hastening to the rendezvous, for the mela is dear to the 
 Kulu heart. As the morning wears on the crowd increases about 
 the little temple, for religion is mixed up with their pleasure, and 
 it is a field-day for the Brahmins, who sit at the receipt of custom, 
 impressing with no great difticulty the ignorant peasants with 
 their sanctity and virtue. Suddenly amidst the hubbub is heard 
 a renewed tomtoming as, headed by several men blowing dis- 
 cordant blasts upon great curved trumpets, another village con- 
 tingent arrives, escorting its deity. The latter arrangement con- 
 sists in a sort of chair carried on the shoulders of two men by long 
 poles. The chair is covered with trappings of all sorts, on which 
 are arranged many silver masks of rough workmanship, the whole 
 being much bedecked with flowers. There is apparently a fashion 
 in gods as well as in most things, for there is little variety to be 
 seen in the appearance of any of these village patrons, except that 
 a richer village may perhaps afford a gold mask or two, and express 
 its religious fervour by an additional clamour of trumpets and drums.
 
 96 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 The god, having been carried round through the admiring crowd, is 
 then unceremoniously relegated to a back seat, and deposited in the 
 row of fellow-deities who have also come here to grace the day with 
 their presence, but who now command but little reverence or respect. 
 
 By midday the scene is most brilliant, and the noise of the 
 drumming and piping deafening. The little arena is crowded with 
 men standing in long lines dancing a sort of slow shuffle to the 
 encouraging strains of the musicians. Aimlessly and without any 
 seeming purpose, like all native dances, they keep it up by the 
 hour — to the great interest, however, of the thronging bystanders. 
 A booth or two have been run up, and cover the stalls of sweet- 
 meats, which find eager buyers in the women and children. Even 
 the Eai of Kulu himself has come up from Sultanpur, and under 
 his immense umbrella sits hour after hour, a willing spectator. 
 
 But by far the greatest attraction are the rows upon rows of 
 women who sit round upon the terraces, filling the little amphitheatre 
 witli a Ijlaze of bright colouring, right up even to the dark shade 
 of the pine forests above. Dressed in all colours, they wear the 
 soft woollen blanket dress, in which white and red, grey and brown, 
 with a great fondness for checks, largely predominate. Bright - 
 coloured handkerchiefs are tightly tied round their heads, for to-day 
 every one has put on her cleanest and her best, and fully intends to 
 captivate all those who come within her reach. The amount of 
 jewelry worn is simply amazing, and is no small proof of the very 
 easy circumstances in wdiich these peasants must live. Scarcely a 
 single woman is to be seen without her silver necklace and her large 
 hooped earrings ; while the olive-brown skins and handsome faces of 
 most of them are almost hidden under the heavy weight of silver, 
 with ^vhich are mingled strings of red coral and frequently a 
 green turquoise or two. Taken as a whole, the women are very 
 good-looking, with clean-cut features and large eyes, and when seen 
 thus dressed out in their holiday attire, the close-fitting blanket 
 dress well setting off their finely-shaped figures, no brighter picture 
 could be desired.
 
 CHAP. IV NAGAR FAIR 97 
 
 A little native dancing goes a long way with ns Westerns, and 
 one cannot but wonder at the idle way the women sit still the 
 whole day long, looking down npr»u the monotonous evolutions of 
 the men below. But they see and are seen, and the consciousness 
 of the part they play in contributing to so pretty a picture, no 
 doubt makes the day a happy one to them. 
 
 After all they are but intensely ignorant children, and having 
 no idea of any intellectual pleasures, the mela is the only form 
 of social gathering that relieves them from the daily drudgery in 
 the fields, or the dull routine of work at home, and as such it is 
 welcome to all. 
 
 It would be well, however, if the melas ended at sundown, for 
 by this time the frequent drafts of lugri, a wretched spirit which 
 is distilled from rice, have inflamed the passions of the men, and 
 with the increasing excitement, the fun grows boisterous. Torches 
 are lit, and by their glare the revel is continued far into the night, 
 with all the evil consequences of free intercourse of the sexes 
 imder such circumstances. Dazzled by the light, the noise, the 
 music, it can cause but little surprise that the women, with no 
 home ties as we know them to bind them, wander off with their 
 lovers into the dark forest, where, in the warm night, the tall 
 deodars spread their sheltering branches over them. 
 
 Much has been said in condemnation of these gatherings, and 
 rightly so, for the evil results that arise from their abuse are 
 as bad for the men as for the women ; but it is ditticult to see 
 where the remedy is to come from as long as the present ignorance 
 and weakness of moral restraint continue to exist in the valley, 
 the causes of which no doubt lie in the want of consideration given 
 to the marriage tie. 
 
 Boys and girls are sometimes betrothed in their youth, but as 
 a rule it is not until he is grown up that a man begins to look 
 round in search of a wife. He is not then troubled by any 
 romantic feelings in his choice, but goes straight to where he 
 considers he can get the best article for the money, and offers the 
 
 H
 
 98 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 father of the fair one a sum to compensate him for the loss of the 
 labour of his daughter ; most likely the girl's consent is not asked, 
 but she no doubt views the case philosophically, seeing that she 
 must work for somebody ; a few presents are given by the bride- 
 groom to the bride's relations, and the affair is then completed by 
 the girl following her husband to his cottage. 
 
 Of course in cases of this kind married happiness must be a 
 lottery, and it is indeed not looked for, for the remedies are always 
 at hand. The man knows that he can carry on his intrigues with 
 any other woman he prefers, without any loss to himself; and his 
 wife, brought up in a home with the example of her parents' 
 infidelity constantly before her eyes, sees little harm in choosing 
 a lover from the many that offer, knowing full well that the last 
 person to object will be her husband, for should she leave him, he 
 would only be obliged to spend some thirty rupees in buying 
 another wife to supply her place, while she, on the other hand, 
 would be welcomed back by her family, as an additional worker in 
 the ancestral fields. 
 
 In Kuram, as will be seen later, they manage these things 
 better, for there they supplement women's fidelity by a lock and 
 key, and conjugal rights are insisted upon at the point of the 
 sword ; but here in Kulu, it must be admitted, things are rather 
 at a deadlock, for in the absence of education and any moral fibre, 
 they have not even the courage to fight for the possession of their 
 wives — a form of virile energy which was considered legitimate and 
 praiseworthy even in England, before the emancipation of women 
 taught us the error of our ways. 
 
 I was lucky indeed to get over the Malauna Pass on the day I 
 did, for the weather broke with the heavy storm, and I might have 
 been imprisoned at Malauna by the deep snow that now fell on 
 all the mountains round, the cold from which made us realise 
 that we were still nearly 6000 feet above the sea. 
 
 The days, however, w^ere passed pleasantly enough in exploring 
 the fertile valley of the Beds, where the busy winter cultivation was
 
 A KULU LADY
 
 CHAP. IV NAGAR CASTLE 99 
 
 in full swing. Fruits of all kind grow here to such perfection 
 that several Europeans who have settled in the valley ha\-e 
 seriously turned their attention to growing it for the Simla market. 
 Apples, pears, peaches, apricots, quinces, all thrive and grow in a 
 way that could not be believed had not one seen the trees ; but in 
 spite of this abundance of Nature, the cost of transport of the 
 fruit on men's backs over the ten marches to Simla is almost 
 prohibitive, especially as owing to the perishable nature of the 
 crop it has all to be packed in double kiltas or baskets, between 
 which hay is wedged in order to soften the blows that it receives 
 at the hands of the rough kulis. A few tea gardens are still in 
 existence, but for some reason or other they have not had the 
 success that has attended the neighbouring Kangra plantations, 
 and the area is not extending. 
 
 Nagar Castle, the residence of the Assistant Commissioner, 
 which looks down upon this prosperous valley, is an interesting 
 old block of grey stone buildings, quite unfortified, and having the 
 appearance rather of a large, rambling, English country-house. It 
 was probably built about the middle of the seventeenth century, 
 and was used as the palace of the Rajas of that day, until they 
 moved the capital to Sultanpur, when it fell, as most native 
 buildings do, into disuse and disrepair. Now again it has become 
 the seat of government (in a country where one man represents 
 that authority), and its fine rooms have been modernised by the 
 addition of glass windows and balconies. 
 
 It is an interesting old place, though of no great architectural 
 pretensions, and its commanding situation overlooking the valley 
 gives it a more imposing appearance than it perhaps deserves. 
 I wandered through the old courtyards, now silent, womlering 
 what it could have been like in the former days of the native court, 
 when dark eyes looked down from the windows above, and the 
 serai was crowded by the Ilaja's motley retinue. Tlie glories of 
 the East were, no doubt, never at any time to be found up here in 
 the mountains, for they are only bred in the heavy air of the sun-
 
 100 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 stricken plains below, where the heat has dried up all effort, 
 and where the weary eye is attracted only by a wanton blaze of 
 colour. 
 
 The weather now became so wet and cold that I turned my 
 steps down the valley and rode some twelve miles down to 
 Sultanpur, the White Eat being a pleasant change after Shank's 
 mare. It is a beautiful bit of road the whole way, passing through 
 the rich cultivation that fills the wide bed of the open valley. 
 About half-way the road crosses the Beas and continues along the 
 fiat river-bed beneath the shade of some of the finest alders I have 
 ever seen, which quite equalled English elms in size. The villages 
 lie mostly on the slopes of the hills above, so that comparatively 
 few are seen in the day's march, but numerous colonies of Ladakhis 
 are met with, encamped in their brown tents on the flat ground 
 beside the river. These people come over the Eotang Pass in the 
 autumn to trade, bringing borax and salt, and evidently find the 
 banks of the Beds a more comfortable winter abode than their 
 own lofty and inhospitable valleys. 
 
 As you ride up to a cluster of the dark widely-spreading tents, 
 you are greeted by the loud barking of numerous sheep-dogs, 
 whose evil looks and shaggy coats give them more the appearance 
 of half-bred wolves. The noise brings the inhabitants to the doors 
 of the tents, and you are welcomed with a smile that but scarcely 
 conceals the unmitigated hideousness of its owner. The type is 
 distinctly Chinese ; the small sloping eyes peer out above the 
 prominent cheek-bones, the thick lips, especially in the older women, 
 hang in a coarse repulsive way, while the narrow chin gives the 
 whole face a weak and irresolute appearance. But they are an 
 easy-going, good-natured people, and manage very well to conceal 
 their roughness under a certain instinct of hospitality which is not 
 often found amongst natives who perhaps outwardly are more 
 inviting. Some of the men wear their hair in pig-tails, but the 
 straight black locks of the women, very much of the quality of 
 horse hair, hang in an unkempt fashion over their greasy shoulders.
 
 N AINU'S TASTE 
 
 101 
 
 NAINU S FANCY 
 
 a suggestive harbour for creeping things innumeralDlc. They never 
 wash : what more need be said ? 
 
 There is no accounting for tastes, however, for on our ap- 
 proaching a moon-faced damsel whose features were so small as to 
 be scarcely discernible in the 
 dirt on her cheeks, Nainu was 
 smitten with love at first sight, 
 and whispered to me, " Sahib, 
 these women are more beauti- 
 ful than any we have yet seen, 
 and this one is surely the fairest 
 of all," — from which I gathered 
 the comforting assurance that 
 Nainu and I at any rate would 
 never be rivals. 
 
 The only interesting thing 
 that I could see about them 
 was a red flush on the girls' cheeks, which showed even through 
 the superimposed layer of mother earth, and the rough but artistic 
 necklaces which some of the women wore. These consisted of 
 strings of coral beads along which, at mtervals of a couple of 
 inches, were strung alternate lumps of amber and green turquoise 
 of a size equal to a large walnut. Even at the risk of getting 
 more than I bargained for, I tried to buy a necklace of this kind 
 off' one of Nainu's beauties ; but no, she would not sell it, no, not 
 for many rupees. When asked why, she also said that she could 
 not replace the coral if she parted with this ; so it would be well 
 next time that one conies up here to bring a string or two in 
 one's pocket wherewith to satisfy these dusky ladies. 
 
 The men, seeing there was money to be made, with a far keener 
 eye to business than the Kulu folk, produced little bags of turquoises, 
 very few of which, however, were without large Haws. In size 
 they varied from one's little finger nail to somewhat larger than one's 
 thumb nail, and being of a greeny blue in colour, they appeared to
 
 102 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 me far more beautiful than the sky-blue ones so common in Europe. 
 I do not know where these turquoises come from, but evidently 
 they must find them in the country north of the Himalayas, for 
 few Ladakhi and Thiljetan women are without them, wearing, as 
 they do, on their heads a broad leather strap closely studded with 
 them. The price asked for these stones seemed to me considerable, 
 but possibly this was because the Sahib bought in person. 
 
 It was quite a new sensation to find myself nearing a town 
 again, if indeed Sultanpur is big enough to bear the weight of so 
 great a name ; but as it is the capital of a country, and has a 
 Eaja, a palace, a paved alley and a bazar, I suppose we must 
 give it its due. It is well situated on a spur of the hill between 
 the Beds and the Siybari stream which here joins in from the 
 right, and is compactly built, though not surrounded by any walls. 
 We rode up from the river-bed into the town, and passed down 
 the narrow " High Street," which was lined with the little shops 
 one sees all over India, and peopled by the enterprising Punjabi 
 merchants, in whose hands all the trade of the valley lies. The 
 paving was clean and well swept, though of course in the absence 
 of all wheeled traffic the streets were extremely narrow. Once 
 through the town, the wide bed of the Sivbari has to be crossed, 
 and the farther bank mounted, on the top of which is a large, flat, 
 grass-covered space known as the maidtin or plain. 
 
 There is nothing these hill men admire so much as a maidan. 
 They go to see it as we go to see a mountain, and loud were the 
 servants' expressions of joy at the unusual sight of a quarter of a 
 mile of flat grass. We put up at the comfortable Dak Bungalow, 
 ordered dinner, walked to the post-office, bought stamps, and in 
 general treated ourselves to all the luxuries of ci\dlisation that 
 Sultanpur could afford. 
 
 The palace of the Eai of Kulu is at the lower end of the town, 
 and though large and rambling, has not many architectural features 
 worth noticing. The Eai is now only the titular ruler of the comitry, 
 but is still looked up to by the people as their lord and master.
 
 STREET IN SULTANPUR
 
 CHAP. IV S UL TA NP UR 1 03 
 
 Great mourning was still hanging over Sultanpur, for a couple of 
 years before the dread cholera liad swept through the valley, carry- 
 ing off hundreds of victims, including even one of the few Europeans 
 that reside here. Terror reigned supreme, every one who could 
 escape fled, and to make the disorganisation more complete, just 
 about this time the Eai himself — an excellent and much-respected 
 man — was carried off by small-pox. 
 
 I heard that the scene in the palace was most distressing as 
 the poor man lay dying, for on these occasions the Brahmins 
 exert to the full the power they have over their superstitious flock, 
 and they seized the occasion to extract from the poor heart-broken 
 Eani a fresh supply of gifts and donations to appease the angry 
 god. After the Kai's death an event occurred which illustrates 
 the dark sides of Oriental life. Among the Eai's household was an 
 extremely pretty slave-girl of the Rani's, a child of only twelve, 
 very gentle and modest by nature, who, being one of the 
 younger ones of the household, always kept behind the Eani 
 on all occasions. One morning she was found in one of the rooms 
 lying dead, with her throat cut. It was given out that she had 
 killed herself to do honour to her dead lord and master. Whether 
 this was so or not will never be known, but it seems unlikely that 
 so young a child should have committed such an act. It is much 
 more probable that she was murdered by the Brahmins' orders, 
 who hoped thereby to fan the religious devotion for self-immolation 
 on the part of widows. 
 
 There is no doubt that the Government would not hesitate to 
 hang any Brahmin if found guilty, to the first tree, but in cases 
 of this kind it would be quite impossible to get evidence; the 
 influence and power held by the priestly caste is so great, and the 
 superstitious belief in their virtue so strong, that few natives could 
 ever be got to believe a Brahmin guilty of such a crime, even 
 though they saw it with their own eyes, much less would they 
 accuse him of it openly, in a court of law. 
 
 The Government has quite enough to do without end^arking on
 
 104 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 such fruitless chases as these, and, wisely perhaps, abstains from 
 the attempt, for stories from time to time come out in the courts 
 of law which give an extraordinary picture of a native's capacity 
 for bearing witness, a fact that he himself admirably expresses in 
 his proverb : " Great is the justice of the white man — greatei' 
 the power of a lie." 
 
 The Eai of Kulu, though not a ruler, holds a sort of hereditary 
 dukedom, and with it as much of a court and appanage as his some- 
 what slender means will allow. He can only marry a girl with 
 " royal " blood in her veins, and should he wish to do so he 
 receives a proposal from the girl's father offering his daughter in 
 marriage. In the case of a rich girl the father can command the 
 Rai to come to his house with as many followers and attendants 
 as he considers due to his daughter's position. On the Eai's 
 approach with some two or three hundred followers he is received 
 in great state, presents are exchanged, and the marriage is com- 
 pleted by a curious ceremony in which the bridegroom walks seven 
 times round the bride. 
 
 It is the custom then for the liani to be accompanied to her 
 new home by a suite of several girls, tlie daughters of any villagers 
 whom her father has influence enough to impress, though in some 
 instances, if they are beautiful, he has to pay for them ! These 
 girls become a part of the Eai's household, and are from time 
 to time supplemented by new purchases of the Eani's, whom she 
 presents to her lord and master. 
 
 The late Eai had two Eanis, the elder and the younger, and 
 some sixteen of these girls, and being a most kind and enlightened 
 man, they were very well treated by him, often accompanying 
 their lord (in closed conveyances) on the occasions of his visits to 
 the Ganges, to bathe in the sacred water. 
 
 The Eani has a room of her own and her food is cooked for her 
 by a Brahmin, while the girls all live happily together in a big 
 upper room with glass windows on all sides, where they sleep at 
 night on mattresses placed in rows along the walls, each being
 
 CHAP. IV THE RAPS HOUSEHOLD 105 
 
 covered with a clean white durri on which the occupant's name is 
 careftilly embroidered ! In the daytime the mattresses are rolled 
 up and put away, and each girl cooks her own food in little rooms 
 set aside for the purpose. The Eai's bed stands in the middle of 
 the room, and he spends his time partly here and partly with 
 the Eanis, without apparently exciting any jealousy in tliis 
 well-ordered household. 
 
 The simplicity of the whole arrangement may be gathered from 
 the fact that these " ladies-in-waiting " receive as pay each eighty 
 pounds of grain a month, two pieces of homespun, and two pairs 
 of shoes a year, while one anna (about a penny) is given her a 
 month as pocket-money ! The girls always dress in the homespun 
 cloth of the country, the Eanis alone wearing the richer coloured 
 muslins. 
 
 No doubt some people would urge that the position of these 
 girls is nothing more nor less than slavery, but slavery is such a 
 wide word and covers so many varied conditions of life, that it may 
 be said to include almost every phase, since no one is quite his 
 own master. In spite of the horror that this name implies to the 
 average Briton, as a matter of fact in the East, domestic slavery 
 only becomes an evil when those in subjection begin to desire to 
 change their life, which they very rarely wish to do, for they accept 
 dependence and subjection with no different feelings from those of 
 a Western girl in a humble state of life, who is obliged to earn 
 her living by service. 
 
 In considering the position of these girls who belong to the house- 
 hold of a Eaja, it must be remembered that they acquire a status 
 that has been held in honour ever since the days of Solomon. Their 
 life of ease and comfort, with ample provision of food and clothing, 
 their freedom from all care under the protection of an indulgent 
 master, must be contrasted with the alternative offered to tlioin l3y 
 remaining at home. In the latter case they would make a 
 mariage de convcnance — in other words, be sold by their father for 
 a few rupees to some young peasant. A life of toil and drudgery
 
 106 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 PART I 
 
 would then commence, in which " home life " as we know it, 
 would most probably be embittered by the infidelity of the husband 
 and by her own intrigues, with an old age of neglect and want as 
 a consummation. Of the two, the latter picture presents quite as 
 many features of slavery as the former, with the addition also of 
 hard labour for life. 
 
 During my stay at Sultanpur I was anxious to get some of the 
 silver jewelry worn Ijy the women, and went frequently to the 
 dark alleys in the town where the silversmiths sit in their little 
 open shops at their work. As is the custom of the country, they 
 had nothing ready made, in spite of the fact that almost every man. 
 
 SILVER PINS OF THE KULU DRESS (3 natural Size) 
 
 let alone woman, in the streets wore a silver necklace of some sort. 
 They had no specimens, and simply told me that if I left the 
 rupees, they would make them into anything I desired. As no 
 man or woman will sell the jewelry they possess, not even for 
 double its value, having no need of money, it was impossible to get 
 it otherwise than by having it made. 
 
 After some difficulty I was able to persuade a woman to lend 
 me a pair of pretty earrings she was wearing, and having borrowed 
 one of the rough enamelled necklaces of a man, I had these copied 
 in the bazar ; and by great good fortune one of the silversmiths 
 happened to be making a chain ornament for some damsel's head, 
 and this he willingly also repeated for me. Almost the best silver 
 work I obtained, was that made for me by the carpenter in one of 
 the villages ; it showed great taste as well as fine execution, which
 
 CHAP. IV KULU HARVEST 107 
 
 is somewhat rare in Kulu, for the best silversmiths are said to 
 come from the neiolibouring Kan<i;ra. 
 
 Tlie chief fair, or mela, in Kulu is held annually on the Sultan- 
 pur maidan in October, and is the cause of assembly of a great 
 number of people from the valley ; and though it is a semi-religious 
 holiday, at which over one hundred village gods have been known 
 to be present, yet it is in a great measure the chief market of Kulu, 
 the maidan being covered with booths, while large flocks of sheep 
 are brought down from the mountain sides and find a ready sale to 
 buyers, who drive them down to the plains for killing. But at this 
 season of the year the great maidan is empty, save for the presence 
 of a curious little temple on wheels which is used as the chariot 
 of the god at the fairs, and is untenanted except by a stray bullock 
 or pony, to whom it affords but a scanty grazing. 
 
 After a few days at Sultanpur, I started again and marched 
 down the pleasant valley some ten miles to Bajaora, where I hoped 
 to meet my brother again. The road follows the right bank of the 
 Beas through the same cultivation as above the capital, though 
 as we get lower down the flat valley-bed loses all its mountain 
 character, and the greater heat is shown in the different ajjpear- 
 ance of the villages. The wooden chalets have disappeared, and 
 the little thatched mud houses have replaced them, while a high 
 screen of reeds surrounds each little compound, affording shade and 
 privacy to the inmates. As we rode along through the fertile 
 valley the regular beating of the tomtom and the minor wail of a 
 pipe near a little hamlet drew us away from the path, and we came 
 upon the autumn signs of plenty. 
 
 On a flat, clean -swept piece of ground lay a great heap of 
 orange maize cobs, which were being thrashed by the vigorous 
 strokes of four strong men in time to the strains afforded by some 
 strolling musicians, who, in return for a few handfuls of grain, had 
 come to encourage by voice and sound the labour of the day. The 
 yellow crop stood close at hand, and was being cut down by some, 
 others lopping off the cobs, while two old crones paced backwards
 
 108 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 and forwards carrying the severed heads to the ever-increasing heap. 
 The little hamlet half buried in the heaps of straw, the rich valley 
 stretching away to the uplands in the blaze of morning light, the 
 golden grain, the measured beat in time to the wild strains of the 
 musicians, whose red turbans threw in a dash of colour — all made up 
 a picture of a harvest-home which needed no additional decoration. 
 
 These lucky peasants get two crops off their land a year, at the 
 cost of but little manure ; for the soil is good, and with the hot sun, 
 tempe 'ed by frequent irrigation, there is little to check the promise 
 of an p.bundant growth. The wheat is off the ground by June, but 
 the soil is given no rest. Immediately the ploughing begins again, 
 in preparation for the summer rice crop. The ground is made 
 quite level, no rollers being used, but a rough Hat board, on which 
 a man stands to add his weight, is drawn by bullocks across the 
 little field. When all is prepared, the water is let in upon the soft 
 ground, which it thoroughly saturates, until it lies to a depth of 
 about six inches on the top. 
 
 In the meantime the rice seed has been sown in little nurseries, 
 and has quickly shot up, and is ready for transplanting. Thus far 
 the men have done the work. Now is the women's turn. 
 
 The neighbours all are summoned and cheerfully come to render 
 the annual service of mutual assistance, for which no pay is taken, 
 though the owner provides them with their homely meals. Musi- 
 cians are got together, and soon the rows of laughing girls with 
 kilted skirts are standing up to their knees in mud and water, 
 planting the bright green shoots in the soft ground at their feet. 
 It must be hard labour, this stooping all day long in the hot sun, 
 but the work goes on merrily to the weird sound of the music and 
 the drum. The singers chant of love, always however in the minor 
 key, to the running commentary of the light-hearted girls, who 
 emphasise each point with many a joke upon their comely neigh- 
 bours, while the bystanders lose no opportunity of throwing in a 
 rough jest to raise the colour in the cheeks of the girls before them. 
 Captain Harcourt in his Government report has given such a

 
 CHAP. IV BICE PLANTING 1U9 
 
 picturesque, as well as exact, account of this scene that I cannot do 
 better than conclude with his own words : — " Towards evening, 
 when the workers are pretty well wet through, and one would 
 think the toil (and very severe toil it is) would result in fatigue, 
 the spirits of the party rise and the more playful members of the 
 fair sex commence slyly throwing water on those near ; this is 
 returned, but usually in the wrong direction, and soon all are 
 busily engaged in pelting each other, till struggles for supremacy 
 occur, and, with a shout of laughter, the weakest go bodily into the 
 water. Sometimes a more than usually audacious damsel advances 
 to the bank, and before the spectators can be aware of her inten- 
 tions, one of them, possibly the owner of the field, is dragged from 
 his place of safety and water is poured down his neck, to the 
 delight of the bystanders, who, however, have to be careful that 
 their turn does not come next." 
 
 As I rode into Bajaora I met St.G., who had finished his work, 
 and we were soon comfortably sitting on the verandah of the little 
 bungalow discussing our past adventures and future plans. He 
 told me that he was obliged to go back to Simla, and that he 
 intended to return a different way from which we had come ; that 
 by crossing the Dolchi Pass into Mandi and going from thence to 
 Bilaspur we should march through the lower hills, and so avoid 
 the cold that was beginning to make itself felt. This route woukl 
 take us back to Simla in ten marches, and, as it was new gnnuid 
 to me, I decided to accompany him. 
 
 We spent a fortnight at Bajaora, passing our time mostly in the 
 pursuit of the black partridge, that at one time were to be fountl 
 here in good numbers, but which are now rather shot out owing 
 to the persistent harrying they have received from some of the 
 residents in the valley. 
 
 Our preparations for our new march were soon made, and, 
 having obtained some mules from Sultanpur, we started one 
 morning, in rather uncertain weather, up the road that leads up 
 the mila behind Bajaora.
 
 no LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 The Englishman's hand had agam been at work here, for \vhile 
 our kuKs followed the bed of the ravine straight up to the pass, 
 we spent some hours winding in and out of valleys and spurs 
 on a gradient so gentle that even a well-laden four-wheeler might 
 have trotted up it with ease. By degrees we rose and obtained a 
 last look down into the Kulu valley, as we got into the rhodo- 
 dendron forest at Kandi, the top of the pass. 
 
 The ihododendrons here are some of the best in the Himalayas, 
 and among the glorious blaze of crimson are also to be found many 
 white ones. No more beautiful sight can be imagined than one of 
 these rhododendron forests in April and May. The trees, some 
 twenty-five to thirty feet high, when seen from above, are one mass 
 of large crimson flower-balls, which, contrasted with the dark-green 
 foliage, give the mountain side the appearance of one vast flower- 
 bed. I looked in vain to see if I could find anything especial in 
 the soil which made these trees gi'ow to so fine a size, but in general 
 the ground seemed rather poor in quality, and there was no trace 
 of the sandy peat that we associate with these trees in our gardens. 
 
 We slept the night at the bungalow on the top of the pass — a 
 cold and somewhat dreary night after the late rains. A few steps 
 along the path next morning took us to the little gap which 
 forms the Dolchi Pass, at the height of 6700 feet. A last ghmpse 
 is obtained here over the forest, of the Kulu valley lying far down 
 below, above which rose up some fine snow-peaks, now wreathed 
 in the clouds of a winter storm. 
 
 Lookmg forwards over Mandi, a most curious sight is seen in 
 the endless, herring-boned, bare, red ridges, which rise in lines one 
 above the other. As all these slopes face south-east, scarcely a tree 
 is to be seen upon them, and the appearance of this sea of brown 
 hills is truly monotonous. There was nothing to keep us here, so 
 we ran down the long and winding road that took us to Kataula. 
 
 I can never pass a tomtom without an inclination to go and 
 see what " devilment " is up, and as we descended to the low gTOund, 
 the monotonous thud of the drums enticed me down to a hamlet,
 
 ;,f ^*^^JK
 
 CHAP. IV THE MARCH BACK HI 
 
 where I found no one less than the village god himself out for an 
 airing. The erection consisted of a sort of small round table 
 surrounded by an orange and white striped drapery. Over the 
 table was an umbrella-shaped canopy of red and white lappets, 
 while on the table itself, embedded in many orange and white 
 flowers of the jessamine kind, lay the silver mask of the deity with 
 several other silver charms and tokens ; a silver stick stood beside 
 the table, and in front of it a little brasier with smoking incense. 
 There is something maddening in the beating of these tomtoms, for 
 the noise is always redoubled on the approach of any Sahib, as if to 
 stir the god himself up to the realisation of the fact of the white 
 man's arrival. Probably in this case some one had been ill in the 
 cottage, and the visitation was made to drive out the evil one, for 
 the Brahmin sat immovable (except for the instant that the lens 
 cap was taken off !) beside the door, while the peasants squatted 
 in a circle in simple adoration. 
 
 We got into Kataula somewhat early, and only regretted that 
 we had not loitered on the way, for the bungalow that was to be 
 our home for the night was, without exception, the most uninviting 
 construction we had yet come across, and its situation on a bare, 
 treeless flat is in keeping with its architectural beauties. Any boy 
 of ten with a blunt axe and a wooden spade would, I am sure, have 
 had no difficulty in turning out a more suitable human habitation. 
 
 Next day we continued down the stream we were on, until it 
 reaches the Ul river, a large tributary of the Beds, which we crossed on 
 a fine iron suspension bridge that the Eaja of Mandi has had built. 
 
 The march is not an interesting one, but for variety we could 
 not help being amused at the antics of an immense crowd of monkeys, 
 who were being scared from the fields on the hillside across the river 
 by the shouts of the angry villagers. Skipping down the steep 
 bank, stopping now and again to watch if the pursuer was in real 
 earnest, they escaped across the torrent below us, leaping from 
 boulder to boulder in some magnificent bounds. The monkey is a 
 spoilt child, for his semi-sacred character in the eyes of the natives
 
 112 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE i-art i 
 
 causes his ravages amongst the crops to be patiently borne, while in 
 towns where he cannot help himself, an excellent system of outdoor 
 relief causes him to be supplied with the necessaries of life ; and w^hen 
 in his abundance he becomes unbearably impertinent, the muni- 
 cipality of the great Government itself undertakes a raid upon the 
 offenders and, catching them in numbers, deports them in a special 
 train, personally conducted, to the jungles, where they are set free. 
 
 This troop, having escaped the shouts and the stones of the 
 villagers by crossing the stream, sat down to amuse themselves, con- 
 scious that they were out of harm's way. They are quaint beasts. 
 As we watched them, one old fellow, as if proud of his agility, ran 
 up to the very top of a sapling and there, just like a child, swung 
 himself backwards and forwards as if on a trapeze, while the crowd 
 Ijelow gazed up at him in wondering admiration, encouraging him 
 with ceaseless chatter. As soon as he got down, another, jealous 
 of the applause, flew up the tree and repeated the performance, with 
 even greater success, until a bullet from my little rifle flying just 
 over his head caused him to spring at one bound into the arms 
 of the astonished crowd below, and in a minute they had all 
 disappeared up the rocks into the scrub. 
 
 From the Ul river a good path leads up a steep ridge, from the 
 top of which a fine view is obtained of the Beas valley below in 
 which the town of ]\landi lies, our evening's camp. The whole 
 country about here is very much like the Apennines, and has, I 
 fancy, much the same climate. Everything has a dry and burnt- 
 up look : the trees are poor, the hillsides being covered with a 
 good deal of scrub, but there is a fair amount of field cultivation 
 in the valley bottoms. Such country needs the morning and 
 evening light to make it attractive, for any beauty of tint or 
 colour is lost in the strong midday glare. 
 
 As we approached Mandi, plenty of evidence that we had left 
 British territory and entered a native state was to hand in the well- 
 cared-for roadside temples, and the well-built stone platforms at the 
 base of the spreading pepul trees, those restmg-places so dear to the
 
 CHAP. IV A CONTRAST AT MANDI 113 
 
 native heart. Each spring by the roadside was carefully walled in, 
 affording clear cool water to the passers-by, while in a niche above 
 the water sat the hideous, fat-bellied, elephant-headed Ganush giving 
 his blessing to the thirsty traveller. 
 
 This sort of rule appeals to the native, I imagine, much more 
 than does the cold justice of the English regime. Their native Eaja 
 oppresses them, no doubt, at times very hardly, but when he is in 
 a good humour he appeals to their hearts by spoiling them a little ; 
 and if he neglects the more useful ways of spending the money of 
 the state, he atones for it in their eyes, by lavishing it now and 
 again upon some popular fancy. The English Jitij, on the other 
 hand, cannot go in for fancies, but keeps all its money for roads 
 and railways, irrigation and education, and such-like prosaic works, 
 which, however useful in the long-run, do little to bring personal 
 comfort to Ram Buksh as he plods, at a very gentle pace, along the 
 path of life. 
 
 Mandi is a wonderfully pretty little tow^n, built just where the 
 Suketi river joins the Beas in a deep green pool. A fine iron 
 suspension bridge (the Eaja's " Victoria Jubilee " ofl'ering) joins the 
 banks of the Beds, while a row of pointed-roofed Hindu temples, 
 with steep broad flights of steps down to the river, adds to tlie 
 picturesque appearance of the place as you come in from the north. 
 When this bridge was being built by Captain Hoskyns, lI.E., who 
 was lent to the Eaja for the purpose, it caused a great sensation in 
 the neighbourhood, the natives declaring that it would be im- 
 possible to build a bridge from bank to bank. After some little 
 delay, however, a couple of light wire ropes were stretched across, 
 higli above the river, from which a few single planks were slung, 
 in order to facilitate the passing across of the suspension cables 
 which were to form the bridge. Captain Hoskyns, having to absent 
 himself for a few days just at this time, returned to find the hill 
 men making full use of this light and airy structure, imagining 
 that the Sahib's work was done ; their only complaint to him being 
 that they could not get their sheep to cross it ! 
 
 I
 
 114 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 The little streets of the town were well paved and well swept, 
 though their narrowness reminded us again that we were still in 
 a wheel-less country. We passed through a rather picturesque 
 open market-place, well thronged with people, one side of which 
 is overshadowed by the Eaja of Mandi's palace, the older part of 
 which is rather a tumble-down native erection, to which has been 
 added a newer building of very doubtful European architecture, 
 adorned with much painting and colour. The Eaja is by all 
 accounts a most enlightened little man, as well as terribly orthodox, 
 for the East is a country of strong contrasts, and while standing on 
 the iron "Victoria Jubilee" Bridge you can gaze into the deep green 
 pool below and see the great mahseer swimming lazily along which 
 bears the soul of the Eaja's late lamented grandfather in his 
 capacious bosom. 
 
 Civilisation has certainly extended to the Mandi bungalow, 
 which actually numbers amongst its attractions curtains to the 
 windows. Here we met Lieutenant Eyder, E.E., who was survey- 
 ing in the neighbourhood, and who came in to see St.G. about his 
 work. He was the third European we had seen since we left 
 Simla more than two months before, and on these occasions one 
 morally embraces the new-comer as a man and a brother; the 
 fatted calf was killed in the shape of our last tin of salmon, and 
 we dined merrily in the somewhat gloomy magnificence of the 
 Mandi bungalow. St.Gr. got away early next morning, while I 
 went back through the town to take a photograph of the river 
 with the bathing ghats. On crossing the bridge I met a Ladakhi, 
 who was wearing one of the curious necklaces of large turquoises, 
 blocks of amber, and coral beads roughly strung together. I 
 urged him to sell it to me, but as he asked the absurd sum of 
 forty rupees for it I passed on, hoping that when I returned from 
 taking my photographs, I might find him in a more reasonable frame 
 of mind. However, with the characteristic disregard for money of 
 the natives, he had not waited the quarter of an hour that I was 
 away, and in spite of a lengthened search he was nowhere to be
 
 CHAP. IV SUGAR MILLS IN SUKET 115 
 
 found. I mention this to show the extreme difficulty of making 
 any purchase in India, unless one is staying for a lengthened 
 time in a place and can devote the time necessary for a " deal." 
 
 Our road was now to take us from Mandi on the Beas over 
 the low watershed to Bilaspur on the Sutlej, with a night at 
 Suket and one at Dihr on the way. I had rather a long march 
 to catch up St.G., and as soon as I had got through the town 
 again, I mounted the White Eat and, leaving Nainu to follow 
 with the sais, cantered along the excellent path leading almost on 
 a level up the narrow Suketi valley. Numbers of huge mahseer 
 lay basking in the clear pools of the stream below the road, for 
 they are all unmolested owing to the presence among them of the 
 Eaja's lamented relative. I could not help, however, somewhat 
 irreverently dropping a stone on to the back of one huge monster, 
 much to his astonishment and indignation. 
 
 After a few miles of this narrow valley, the road runs out into 
 a wide flat basin with hills some 3000 feet above us all round. 
 It is a sudden change to all the characteristics of the low country. 
 Open flat fields, thatched villages clustering under the tall clumps 
 of waving bamboos, groves of bananas, and the inevitable sugar- 
 mill, round which two pairs of oxen wander sleepily to the tune 
 of the creaking wooden wheels, until the driver infuses new life 
 into the machine by a twist of the bullocks' tails. It is a primitive 
 affair, the sugar-cane being pressed between two wooden rollers 
 while the clear liquid is caught in a pot beneath. This is then 
 boiled until the heavy brown sugar is left at the bottom. I took 
 a photograph of the mill at work, and gladdened Nainu's and 
 Madho's hearts by buying, for four annas, a huge cannon-ball of 
 the black sugar for them, which certainly weighed as heavy as 
 lead. 
 
 I overtook St.G., and found him eating his lunch in the shade 
 of a clump of bamboos, while the smoke of the pipe of peace curled 
 up from the group of servants hard by. It is from here that a 
 road branches off to the west to Unuh, passing by the Eewalsir
 
 116 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 Lakes, which are the goal of so many pilgrims. These are small 
 sheets of water lying in the hollows of the mountains, and are fed 
 by the rain that falls into the little basin, the most curious feature 
 about them being the celebrated floating islands, which are worked 
 by the Brahmins in attendance to the advantage of their pockets 
 as well as to the wonder of the pilgrims. As far as we could see 
 they were really floating, and probably consisted of a mass of 
 wooden debris on which enough soil had collected to orow grass 
 and a few sedgy plants. The Brahmins had stuck sticks into 
 them, from which red streamers hung and fluttered in the wind as 
 the little islands slowly drifted about with the passing breezes. 
 We tried to see if the Brahmins controlled these movements by 
 means of strings, and also whether they had made the islands 
 artificially themselves, but apparently neither was the case ; still 
 no doubt whenever he gets the chance the good Brahmin does his 
 best to assist Nature in sustaining what must be to him a fine 
 source of income. Some Thibetans who were here on a pilgrimage, 
 were going through a strange performance. They made the circuit 
 of the entire lake by measuring their lengths upon the ground in 
 repeated prostrations ; standing where their heads had reached, 
 they threw themselves flat on their faces, only to repeat the pro- 
 cess again and again. If the path to their heaven is a difficult one, 
 surely these good gentlemen must almost have reached the goal by 
 this time, for I can imagine no sort of progression more wearisome 
 and disheartening than this. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when we rode up to the bunga- 
 low at Bhojpur, another forlorn tumble-down building standing in 
 the middle of a bare piece of ground. 
 
 One is constantly coming across traces in India of bygone 
 pretensions reduced to a most sorry plight. Possibly they are the 
 old-fashioned luxuries that served the Jos Sedleys of former days, 
 which have indeed been kept alive, though lamentably fallen 
 from their high estate. In this case we groped our way into 
 the musty, dilapidated rooms, disturbing a family of rats that
 
 CHAP. IV THE KOTWAUS OFFERING 117 
 
 seemed the only tenants, and threw ourselves into a couple of 
 chairs, most magnificent as to their backs of green and gold, but 
 alas ! totally wanting in seats, the cane bottoms having long since 
 disappeared. 
 
 We were now in the little native state of Sukct, a fact of which 
 we were reminded by the announcement of the arrival of the 
 Kotwal, a sort of Lord Mayor of the village. He comes riding up 
 on his white horse — which, judging by his uneasiness, he has 
 evidently mounted for the first time in our honour — accompanied 
 by a retinue of some half a dozen followers and some servants 
 carrying baskets. The whole turn-out is very oriental, without 
 any of the magnificence. 
 
 He dismounts respectfully at a distance, marshals his under- 
 lings, and approaches, bending low. " Salam Sahib, Sahib salam." 
 " Salam, Kotwalji. How is His Highness the Eaja ? " " The Eaja 
 Sahib sends his salams, Protector of the Poor, and places every- 
 thing at the Presence's feet." A pause ensues, in which the 
 Kotwal shifts uneasily from foot to foot, while " the Presence " 
 thinks of a suitable answer, and turns over a couple of rupees in 
 his pocket, wondering whether they will satisfy the great man. 
 The Kotwal, however, breaks the embarrassing silence by beckon- 
 ing to the scantily clad servants, who approach and lay at our feet 
 some four or five baskets, containing a few pounds of rice, flour, a 
 pot of ghee (clarified butter), a ball of sugar, a couple of chickens, 
 and some vegetables. " The Raja Sahib has gone out hunting, 
 Protector of the Poor ; but sends these poor offerings to the Pre- 
 sence. The Sahib will be pleased to accept them ? " 
 
 The well-known rule in India is, that no Government official 
 is allowed to take anything from a native ; but in these out-of-the- 
 way parts one cannot well refuse these customary dalis, or pres- 
 ents of fruit, without giving offence ; so the sad-faced jemadar, 
 who has been watching attentively in anticipation of a free meal, 
 is called, and the baskets are handed over to him for the use of 
 the men.
 
 118 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 The conversation then becomes more easy, and the Kotwal re- 
 lates a long-winded story in which it appears, while hunting in the 
 hills near, that had it not been for his prowess and his cleverness 
 in shooting at the critical moment, the Eaja's life might have l^een 
 in danger, owing to the attack of a great, great boar, so immense 
 a one never having before been seen ! At last the good man 
 retires, the jemadar announces that everything is "thik," which 
 is the native for "all right," and we sit down after our long 
 march to the cook's most excellent dinner, on the gold-backed, 
 bottomless chairs. 
 
 It is again a somewhat monotonous march, down a long narrow 
 valley enclosed by low hills, from Bhojpur to Dihr on the Sut- 
 lej, though the change to the lowland vegetation is interesting. 
 Bananas, bamboos, and wide-spreading mangos tell of the heat in 
 summer, for one is here only some 1800 feet above the sea. Our 
 march was only enlivened by some excursions off the road after 
 black partridge, to whose presence the dogs now and then called 
 our attention ; and after some four hours we came to the summit 
 of a low ridge and saw before us the wide flat valley of the Sutlej, 
 backed up by the hills opposite. 
 
 AYe were soon down at the new Dihr bungalow, which had 
 only just been bviilt on a low cliff overlooking the wide shingle 
 bed of the great river. Water always has an immense attraction 
 for me, and I at once made my way down over the quarter of a 
 mile of rough shingle which separated me from the ferry that here 
 plies backwards and forwards over the dark-green swirling stream. 
 
 The great boat lay idly moored to the bank, and the old ferry- 
 man squatted before his little reed house, conversing with his 
 fellows, and enjoying his evening pipe after the day's work, for 
 the sun was sinking and no more travellers would come to cross 
 that day. Only an old fisherman stood at the water's edge casting 
 his net in the time-immemorial way of the East. A flat circular 
 net some eight feet across, loaded with iron w^eights all round the 
 edge, and held from the centre by a light rope, is gracefully whirled
 
 / ] .■: ;.. .S■*A■•^^ 
 
 
 
 V.I'' 
 
 \ . ■ y •. 

 
 CHAP. IV AN OLD FERRYMAN 119 
 
 round the head and cast over the shallow water in a great flat disc. 
 There it falls with a splash over any unsuspecting fish that may 
 be lying sunning themselves, and entangles them in their efforts 
 to escape. 
 
 Needless to say, though we watched him for some time in the 
 evening light, he was not successful in landing any. There ought 
 to be a proverb, " The watched fisherman catches nothing." 
 
 We turned to the old ferryman and asked him about the 
 possibility of floating down the river on senais to Bilaspur, our 
 next march, as an alternative to toiling along the dusty road. He 
 stopped drawing at his hubble-bubble, and stood up with an effort 
 to his thin old limbs. " It is as the Sahib pleases. I have no bed 
 whereon the Sahib may sit, but I will send to the village, if per- 
 chance one may be found. Senais we have, and this man who is 
 my brother, and another, will go with the Sahib, so that there be 
 not trouble. Yes, Sahib, at this season of the year, because there 
 is little rain, the water in the great river is low, and there will 
 be danger in passing the rapids where the water is broken. The 
 Presence will then be pleased to land and go on foot until the water 
 is good again. But in the rainy season, as the Sahib can see, when 
 the water is up over all these stones, there is no difficulty, and 
 Bilaspur can be reached before the sun begins to fall in the heavens." 
 
 Next morning we were down at the ferry in good time, and 
 while they were getting the senais ready, we watched the huge 
 flat-bottomed ferry-boat being brought across. St.G. said that he 
 would go on, as he doubted the possibility of my making much 
 progress down the river, and, getting into the boat with our horses, 
 was soon swept across to the other side, while I sat down to wait. 
 
 The great ferry-boat had time leisurely to go and return, and 
 then was made fast to the bank. Some peasants with a buffalo 
 and donkey, who had been patiently basking in the sun on the 
 bank awaiting their turn, now summoned up courage, and 
 scrambled headlong into the boat. No sooner had they settled 
 themselves comfortal)ly, than over the wide shingle bed in a
 
 120 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 cloud of dust came the long line of the Sahib's mules, the cook- 
 ing-pots rattling noisily on their backs as they jogged over the 
 rough stones. They were headed by the tall Anandi, who was 
 in charge of the baggage this day. His first proceeding was to 
 jump into the boat and with voice and arm bodily to remove 
 the animals and the bewildered peasants, while our mules congre- 
 gated in a great circle on the bank above, lost in admiration at 
 the stubbornness of the donkey who for a long time resisted all 
 Anandi's efforts. The peasants, seeing their animals put ashore, 
 followed philosophically, and squatted down quite happily on the 
 bank again, taking it all as a matter of course. 
 
 What matter indeed to them ? They were journeying from one 
 village to another, and the Sutlej was a great river to cross. 
 They had waited patiently for some hours, until those boatmen 
 who were so wonderfully skilled in taking the huge ship across, 
 were ready, and a pipe of tobacco as they sat on the bank con- 
 templating the river was but a natural solace. At last all is ready, 
 and they make up their minds to embark, and think, no doubt, 
 with satisfaction that the curtain has dropped on the first act. But 
 no : a long string of mules, which must belong to some great man, 
 appears in sight, headed by a well-dressed, brass-badged officer, 
 whose commands must be obeyed. Who are they, poor peasants, 
 to stand in the way of a Sahib's retinue ? And so out they bundle 
 and sit down complacently to wait for another start as they watch 
 with wonder the vigorous efforts of the men, who with force and 
 abuse pack the great boat full of mules. Then, when all is ready, 
 the grass rope is cast ashore and the hea's^' boat is towed by three 
 men slowly up the stream in the back eddies for some fifty yards, 
 when with a jump the boatmen board her, seize the big oar, and, 
 to the melody of the boatman's song, sweep the lumbering craft 
 out into the rapid stream, w^here, after a few minutes' struggle in 
 the boiling water, it drifts peacefully into a sandy haven on the 
 farther side, and is again made fast. 
 
 AMiile I lazily watched these proceedings, the senais were
 
 CHAP. IV 
 
 THE SUTLEJ FERRY AT DIHR 
 
 121 
 
 being brought down to the bank — those wonderful skins, which for 
 all the world resemble some antediluvian animals, but which are 
 nothing more than the hides of the harmless buffalo, removed from 
 the body without cutting, which have been inflated through one 
 of the hind legs, and which are universally used in the East as a 
 means of crossing the rivers. 
 In using them the men them- 
 selves simply balance their 
 bodies by lying across the in- 
 flated skin, using a paddle in 
 their hands and propelling 
 themselves along sideways 
 with their feet ; but for the 
 Sahib, who is unaccustomed to such acrobatics, a bed is laid across 
 two skins, whereon he sits, the whole being guided by two men, who, 
 each floating on his own seuai, 
 grasp the bed legs at each 
 end, steering and paddling 
 with their feet. 
 
 How old this method is, 
 may be seen by these tracings 
 from an ancient Assyrian 
 
 relief at Khorsabad, wdiere the men are observed blowing out the 
 skins, and then steering a raft by floating on them, exactly as they 
 do at the present day. 
 
 The motion as one dashes down the rapids is most exhilarating, 
 not to say exciting, for as the raft draws only some three inches of 
 water, the great black boulders, which are plainly seen in the clear 
 water, and over which one flies at lightning speed, are literally 
 only a few inches beneath one. It is a series of mad rushes, with 
 intervals of peaceful floating down the long deep pools, in wdiich 
 the ^stillness around is broken only by the gentle splashing of the 
 men's feet as they paddle swiftly forward. 
 
 In the quieter reaches of the river I had a few shots at some
 
 122 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 duck and teal, which seemed not to notice my approach in this 
 silent manner; and then, owing to a succession of wearisome 
 " portages " across the rough shingle beds to avoid some bad rapids, 
 I dismissed the men after floating about half-way to Bilaspur, and 
 scrambling up on to the path above, continued on foot with Naiuu. 
 
 Bilaspur, the capital of the little native state of that name, lies 
 almost hidden in the trees on the high bank of the Sutlej, where 
 it takes a sharp bend. The small white -washed houses are so 
 scattered about in the dark-green foliage that no idea is obtained 
 of the size of the little town* and we marched through it on to the 
 big open maidan almost without realising its presence. This is 
 indeed not a country of industries which gather men into crowded 
 spots, but here, where every one lives by the produce of the land, 
 the hamlet is found a more convenient unit than the town. 
 
 We were sorry that tlie Eaja, a boy of fifteen, was away shoot- 
 ing, for he is a nice little fellow and a most keen lawn-tennis 
 player. He has been brought up under English influence more or 
 less, and shows it in the active life he leads, and in his love of 
 games. There are two great attractions in Bilaspur. One is the 
 flat piece of ground known as the maidan, and the other is a 
 carriage and pair in which the Eaja drives round and round it, to 
 the great admiration of the inhabitants of his wheel-less realm. 
 This great honour was paid to us too at the Raja's request, so 
 St.Gr. and I were driven solemnly round and round this enlarged 
 circus, drawn by a prancing overfed pair of horses, until our souls 
 sighed for paper hoops and the crack of the ring-man's whip. 
 
 The Ptaja's palace is an imposing great stucco building of arches 
 and domes, and for the accommodation of travellers he has built a 
 very nice little two-storied bungalow on the high bank above the 
 river, the upper rooms of which have been devoted to his studies. 
 The lower rooms we found very comfortably arranged, and as soon 
 as it was dark, the smell of Badiilla's excellent roast mutton saved 
 Abdurrahman the trouble of announcing that our evening meal 
 was ready.
 
 

 
 CHAP. IV A BOLD THIEF 123 
 
 In India one dines d la Bnsse, and as the cook-house is always 
 at a distance, and side-boards not always plentiful, our roast leg 
 was deposited upon the floor of the verandah outside our door ; 
 hence, by the light of a candle, Abdurrahman brought St.G. some 
 luscious slices, upon which after our long day's march my gaze 
 rested in fond anticipation. There was, however, a vast shp be- 
 tween the mutton and the lip on this occasion, for in the man's 
 momentary absence a wretched pariah dog, which no doubt had 
 been lying in wait, pounced upon it out of the darkness, and with 
 one bound carried off Badulla's chef-d'ceuvre into the black night ! 
 It was but poor satisfaction to me to hear the thieves quarrelling 
 for hours long behind the bungalow, and I can only trust that the 
 severe stomach-aches which these half-starved beasts must have 
 had after this surfeit of solid meat, were a warning to them not to 
 meddle with other people's dinners in future. 
 
 Next morning we continued our march, and leaving the low 
 Sutlej valley behind us, began our long climb up on to the higher 
 ground again. The absence of forest makes the country here very 
 ugly, the bare hillsides being at the best but clothed with scrubby 
 bushes and hideous cactus-like euphorbias, from which oozed a 
 white sticky milk at every thrust of our alpenstocks. 
 
 It is a long six hours' pull up the four thousand feet of rise to 
 the little Namoli bungalow, which stands on a sharp ridge over- 
 looking an immense depth on both sides. The architect must 
 evidently have appreciated the situation, for the opposite ends of 
 the empty room were all glazed with windows, and through the 
 numerous chinks in these the chilly evening wind now blew in gusts, 
 as we sat impatiently waiting for the arrival of the mules, witli uiir 
 few comforts of civilisation on their backs. The sun had long set 
 behind the distant ranges, and the short twilight had turned to 
 dark, before the usual clatter of the pots and pans told that the 
 belated ones had arrived. 
 
 The path next day continued along this high level, rising 
 slightly in the course of some seven miles to cross the ridge on to
 
 124 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part i 
 
 the head waters of another river. The views to our left were very 
 pretty at starting, looking across a deep, wide, broken valley, the 
 spurs of the hills l^eing richly cultivated in many cases, while the 
 little white hamlets dotted about here and there caught the early 
 rays of the morning sun. To our surprise, near the top of the 
 ridge, after sundry alarums and excursions, the dogs flushed out 
 of some thick scrub a couple of large birds, one of which St.G, 
 bagged, and which turned out to be a peahen, whose presence was 
 quite unexpected at this height of over four thousand feet. 
 
 It is a long tramp of some seven miles more from the top of 
 the watershed down to the little town of Erki, whose Eaja's big 
 castle on a spur above his capital has more pretensions to pictur- 
 esque architecture than almost any place we had yet seen. As 
 we sat in the verandah of the bungalow, overlooking the houses, 
 and watching the Eaja's two elephants being solemnly exercised up 
 and down the open square, they brought to us a poor boy whose 
 leg had been very badly bitten and torn by a dog some days 
 before. It was little wonder that the wound had made no progress 
 in healing, for besides the infallible remedy of rubbing the palm of 
 his hand with a round stone, the wise man of the village had 
 smeared the boy's leg with some clotted mess which looked for all 
 the world like curry powder. "We had the wound well washed in 
 warm water, and then applied that unfailing remedy boracic acid 
 ointment on a piece of clean linen, giving the boy a fresh supply 
 wrapped in a leaf, to be applied a few days later under the same 
 conditions. 
 
 The natives, with unbounded faith, expect every white man 
 they meet to cure them of all ills, real and imaginary ; it is there- 
 fore very advisable to carry with one a good supply of simple 
 remedies which can be given in all cases without harm, and which, 
 when swallowed with an unlimited amount of faith, often work 
 wonders.-^ It is customary to say that natives have no idea of the 
 meaning of the word gratitude, so it is worth mentioning that this 
 
 ^ See Appendix D.
 
 FROM NAMOL
 
 CHAP. IV THE LAST OF THE HIGH (iROUND 125 
 
 boy's father, hearing a fortnight after this that some travellers 
 were passing Erki on their way to Simla, came and begged them t(.) 
 take a grateful message of thanks to the unknown Sahibs at Simla, 
 to announce that the wound was quite healed again. By a curious 
 coincidence these travellers stayed with us on theii- arrival, and in 
 relating the story, unconsciously delivered the message to us. 
 
 From Erki to Simla is a double march of some seventeen m- 
 eighteen miles, which entails difficulties with the kulis, unless 
 arrangements are made for a new supply at Sukrar, a place about 
 half-way ; so we decided to camp at that spot, in a somewhat 
 desolate little nala, where we slept rather uneasily in our tents, on 
 account of the presence in the jungle a little higher up the ravine 
 of one of the Eaja of Dhamin's elephants. This animal, in the 
 somewhat inconsequent way that elephants do, had got off his 
 balance, killed his mahout the day before, and retired to the jungle 
 solitude, where he defied all comers. He was good enouo-h, huw- 
 ever, to leave us undisturbed, and after a long toil uphill, we next 
 day marched into the Jutog bazar, where the familiar sound of 
 the artillery bugles on the hill above disagreeably recalled to us 
 the facts that our clothes were torn and dusty and that our boots 
 sadly needed polishing if we wished to hold up our heads again in 
 this civilised region. 
 
 Four miles more took us to Simla, where the world of fiishion 
 had been happily consoling themselves during our altsence, and 
 where the yoke of civilisation sat somewhat heavily on us after 
 our delightfully free life in the mountains. 
 
 Nothing can come up to the pleasure of such a march through 
 the Himalayas. Healthy for mind and body, there is food in 
 abundance for varied interests; while the continued life in the 
 open air at these high elevations brings with it an exhilarating 
 feeling of the greatness of God's world, which is almost lost sight 
 of in the pressure of our narrow and confined struggle for exist- 
 ence in this nineteenth centurv.
 
 INTERMEZZO 
 THE SUB -HIMALAYAS
 
 INTEEMEZZO 
 
 A FEW weeks' stay was more than enough at Shnla, for a summer 
 resort in the winter season loses much of its raison d'etre. During 
 mostof the time I was busy developing and repacking my photographs 
 and making preparations for my journey to the the N.W. frontier ; 
 but as I was not due there for another month, I determined to 
 march through the hills from Simla to Dehra Diin, where by the 
 kindness of Messrs. Mackinnon I had been promised some shooting. 
 There are two ways from Simla to Dehra — the one, which may be 
 called the upper road, vid Eagu and Mudhaul, which wanders up 
 and down the high ground ; and the other or lower road, skirting 
 the hills through the native state of Sirmiir, which passes through the 
 Kyarda Dun into Dehra Dim. I had received an invitation from 
 the Eaja of Sirmiir, whom I had previously met in Simla, to visit 
 him at his capital, N.4han ; and as I hoped to have St.G.'s company 
 during his inspection of his men, who were working among the low 
 hills in this direction, I chose the lower road, and our preparations 
 were soon made. 
 
 In order to be able to part whenever his work compelled 
 St.G. to leave me, we each made our separate arrangements, and 
 I sold myself body and soul to a cook who contracted to keep me 
 alive (tinned provisions excepted !) for the modest sum of Es. 1.8 a 
 day. St.Gr. kindly lent me Abdurrahman, who with Nainu, my 
 sais, and a camera -carrier made up my retinue. Four mules, 
 engaged at Simla for twelve annas (Is.) each a day, made me 
 independent as to transport. 
 
 K
 
 130 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE inter- 
 
 Our servants aud baggage therefore having been sent on three 
 days ahead, St.G. and I, one mornmg early, walked up to the Simla 
 Tonga office, and there climbed into the two ekhas that we had 
 engaged to run us down the forty miles of the fine Kalka road to 
 Dagshai, at which point we were to overtake our men, and leaving 
 the high-road, were to strike off to the eastward across the hills. 
 We chose native ekhas as a means of conveyance instead of the 
 more lordly post -tongas partly for economy's sake, for a tonga 
 can only be engaged for the whole distance to Kalka, while we 
 wished to stop some seventeen miles short of it, and partly because 
 on a beautiful bit of road like this, all downhill, a swift- trotting 
 ekha pony does his best to make one forget the absence of springs 
 to the vehicle and the somewhat uncomfortable seat upon which 
 one is perched. 
 
 It was amusing to notice the change of behaviour of the natives 
 towards us owing to our having adopted this humble means of con- 
 veyance, for on this much frequented high-road it is expected of the 
 Sahib that he should confine himself to the tonga ; so mistaking us 
 for " walayati kulis," as they call Tommy Atkins,^ they treated us 
 accordingly. Xo one we met on the road made the usual pretence 
 of getting out of the way for us, and we were contemptuously 
 scowled at by the drivers of the lumbering native carts, who almost 
 pushed us off the road ; and it was only by the forcible application 
 of my fist to the driver's back, as he sat on the shaft just in front 
 of me, that I could convince him of the necessity of using the 
 usual third personal pronoun, instead of the disrespectful " thou " 
 with which he mvariably addressed me. 
 
 It will be a long time before the native fully understands the 
 fine distinctions of modern civilisation; at present he still pays 
 more respect to the coat than to its wearer. 
 
 We rattled down the fine road, which in its many windings has 
 much in common with the Swiss Alpine highways, to Solan, where 
 
 ^ Mr. Atkins is the only European member of the genus non-Sahib with whom 
 the native is acquainted.
 
 MEZZO A MONOTONOUS MENU 131 
 
 we stopped an hour for lunch in the excellent Dak Bungalow in order 
 to rest the ponies. A long rise, which rather told on the speed of 
 the little animals, took us then to the top of the ridge, and after 
 another speedy descent we pulled up at five o'clock by the way- 
 side, and found our ponies waiting for us, to take us up the steep 
 half-hour's climb to Dagshai, where the long, low barracks of the 
 cantonment lined the crest of the bare ridge against the evening sky. 
 
 After a night in the Military Works bungalow, we shook of!" the 
 dust of civilisation from our feet once more, and struck out in a 
 south-easterly direction along the little stony path which, as usual 
 in the Himalayas, clings where it is possible to the crests of the 
 ridges. We marched for two days along this ground at a level of 
 about 5000 feet above the sea, now over the bare brown hillside 
 and now through scrubby forest of pines, rhododendrons, and ever- 
 green oaks, stopping only to scour any likely-looking glen for the 
 kallidge pheasant, which is to be found here in abundance, and 
 which consequently figured so frequently in our daily menu, that 
 for variety's sake we were driven to adopt the fashion of Con- 
 tinental hotels and christen the homely bird with the fine-sounding 
 names of poulet, poularde, pintade, faisan, dindon, and dindonneau. 
 
 At a place called Sarhan we left the high ground and plunged 
 down into the deep narrow valley of the Jalar, down which we 
 marched for three days more to Satibagh. 
 
 The track led down the enclosed valley, where the wretched 
 mules suffered much. At one time the stony track would scramble 
 up the steep hillside, through scrub and tangled thorn bushes, only 
 to drop again as steeply into some deep ndla which here joined the 
 main stream. In crossing this the mules would frequently fall 
 amongst the slippery boulders and lie helplessly in the water, 
 until all hands had relieved them and carried the soaking loads 
 across to the farther bank. To add to our discomforts, the rain 
 now began to descend with a force that precluded any feeble 
 attempts on our part to keep it out. Everything seemed awash, 
 from the running water -course under our feet to the dripping
 
 132 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE ixter- 
 
 leaves overhead, which poured shoots of water down our hacks as 
 we passed underneath them. Progress was very slow, for the men 
 had continually to put down their loads to help on the mules. 
 
 Just before reaching Mypur village on the second day, we forded 
 the Jalar, the water of which was now up to our ponies' bellies. 
 As we plunged into the rushing torrent the rain came down in sheets, 
 until the water fairly leapt and hissed around us ; while opposite, 
 under a rock, we overtook a number of our unfortunate men who 
 were vainly endeavouring to keep under cover. A diversion to 
 their misery, however, was created by the stumbhng of one of the 
 mules, whereby my cook's large bundle was deposited in the stream, 
 to the intense dehght of the other servants ; for on the previous day 
 this somewhat lordly individual had had the laugh on his side as 
 he accompanied us to carry our lunch, the others walking alone 
 having missed the path and gone some miles out of their way. 
 
 The wretchedness of encamping on wet ground under wet tents 
 with wet baggage need not be gone into ; and it was after twelve 
 o'clock next day before we could collect the dripping things 
 together again and find the necessary kulis to carry them on to 
 Satibagh. It was no use our waiting, however, so we pushed on 
 down the valley with a few necessaries, leaving the tents to come 
 on as soon as possible under Anandi's charge. At Mypur there 
 were two fine waterfalls, no doubt somewhat swollen by the rains, 
 but still forming at any time a series of fine cascades over some 
 cliffs. They were all the more noticeable as they were the only 
 waterfalls that we came across in all our wanderings in the 
 Himalayas. The absence of cliffs and the drier atmosphere 
 no doubt account for their being so rarely met with. It was 
 late that evening when we descended to the junction of the Jalar 
 with the Giri river, at whicli point, under a grove of magnificent 
 mango trees which spread their dark branches over the little ruined 
 shrine, lies the encamping ground of Satibagh. We were glad to 
 sit round a fire which the men at once made, and warm ourselves, 
 for the rain had made the air feel very chilly and it was a long wait
 
 MEZZO SATIBAGH 133 
 
 ill the dark until the baggage amved. But the longest lane has a 
 turning, and at last the encouraging shouts of the mule-drivers, 
 "Shabash,bahadur!" ("Well done, my conqueror !"),tothe stumbling 
 mules, and the tinkle of the bells, told us they were not far off, 
 and soon they emerged out of the black darkness into the fitful 
 glare of our fire. Lamps were lit at once, and in a short time all 
 were busy pitching tents, until a late dinner at 9.30 sent us to bed 
 tired but satisfied. 
 
 It was a most delightful rest next day to wake up and find all 
 the glories of an Indian winter morning before us — the wonderful 
 stillness of the air, fresh and crisp though warmed by a blaze of 
 morning sun, the sense of budding Nature all around after the late 
 rains ; even the fine Giri, in his wide shingle bed just below our 
 tents, seemed to sparkle with the enjoyment of it all ; while the 
 blue smoke of the little village on the farther bank curled up from 
 amongst the thatched cottages as lazily as befits this indolent East. 
 
 We took advantage of this change in the weather to turn camp 
 inside out, and soon the whole of our worldly possessions might have 
 been seen hanging out to dry, while Naiiiu and Eaganathu busied 
 themselves baling the superfluous water from out of our gun-barrels. 
 St.G. took his rod and started off to try for mahseer in the pools 
 of the river, I being reduced to that somewhat common form of 
 employment in camp, the sewing on of buttons. 
 
 Buttons certainly belong to a higher state of civilisation than 
 befits camp life, for they are awkward things for the uninitiated to 
 begin upon. There is no doubt that the fact that a button has 
 more than one hole is a distinct deterrent from a state of celibacy. 
 The proceeding commences as the needle goes down through the hole 
 with wonderful ease, but nothing will persuade it to come up again in 
 the proper place. In vain you try, it will come up and bump against 
 the button ; more readily still it will come up and prick the finger 
 that you imagined was miles away ; and at last, when it is good 
 enough to find a hole to come up through at all, lo and behold it is 
 the same hole down which the wretched thin"; went ! The man
 
 134 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE inter- 
 
 who invents a practical shirt button with only one hole in it, will 
 deserve a gold medal and the thanks of all bachelors on vellum. 
 
 I was still employed at this miniature game of tilting at the 
 ring, when St.G-. came back and said that it was no good fishing, for 
 the worthy natives had seized the opportunity of the flood water 
 to float down timber in such quantities that it was impossible to 
 throw a line ; so we took our guns instead, and wandered ofl" 
 through the thick Ber jungles, whose thorny bushes cover a great 
 part of the flat river-bed. 
 
 The red iiing\e-fo\v\ (Gallusferrugineus) abounds in these dense 
 thickets, which are just to his liking, and though it is difficult to 
 get this beautiful little game-cock out of his hiding-place in the 
 middle of the day, yet in the mornings and evenings he may be met 
 with wandering about outside, picking and scratching the ground in 
 search of food. We spent four happy days in this delightful spot, 
 pursuing the inhabitants of the jungles about, until our hands and 
 clothes were nearly torn to pieces by the thorny trees that grow 
 everywhere in this warm climate, for Satibdgh is not more than 
 2000 feet above the sea. We considered a peacock, three or four 
 jungle-fowl, a pheasant or two, and a hare a fair bag for a long 
 day's sport, for in these rough countries one has to work hard for 
 one's shots. 
 
 We paid a visit also to the sacred lakes of Eanka, which lie in 
 a secluded little valley about a mile from the farther side of the 
 Giri. These small sheets of water, buried in semi-tropical vegeta- 
 tion, are visited in the summer by thousands of pilgrims, who, if 
 they have eyes for anytliing else but the holiness of the spot, must 
 assuredly be struck by the extreme beauty of the placid waters, 
 which reflect the overhanging branches and here and there a 
 stately pahn on their mirror-like surface, that is only broken by 
 the splashing of the numerous wild-fowl of all sorts which here 
 find a safe haven of refuge. Mallard and teal, pintail and pochard, 
 sheldrake and shovellers, and many others whose names we did 
 not know, swam about tamely before us, conscious of the security
 
 MEZZO RANK A LAKES 135 
 
 afforded them by the sacredness of the place. There is no village 
 at the lakes themselves, but a temple with some bathing-steps, and 
 the small court-house of the tehsildar, stand by the water's edge. 
 The insanitary state of the ground, however, where the pilgrims 
 camp on approaching this sacred spot, is another reminder that it 
 is " only man that is vile " amid a scene of such exquisite natural 
 beauty. 
 
 We could have spent another week at Satibdgh very happily, 
 but St.G. had to go off to see some of his men's work ; so we 
 reluctantly gave the order to load the mules, who also must have 
 been sorry to quit this spot of ease and plenty. 
 
 Crossing the Jaldr river again, we climbed the hillside opposite, 
 up a rugged path that brought us up the 2000 feet to the top of 
 the ridge. These sub-Himalayan hills are covered with a thick 
 vegetation of the scrubby order, which in winter is not very in- 
 teresting, but when we passed through them again a few months 
 later, in April, a glorious mass of colouring was to be seen every- 
 where. On the higher slopes the crimson rhododendrons carried 
 all before them, lighting up the sombre forests with their blaze, 
 while down below, in the hot valley bottoms, the magnificent 
 scarlet sprays of the numerous pomegranate trees seemed all the 
 more brilliant in contrast to the glossy dark-green of their leaves. 
 
 We camped that night at the top of the ridge, from which a 
 fine view is obtained of the low country towards the plains, and 
 next day marched a few miles along the ridge till we reached 
 the white -washed little temple of Jmta, which forms such a 
 striking landmark to the country all around. Here to our sorrow 
 my brother and I had to part at last, with many vows of meeting 
 again in these valleys a few months later, when we hoped the rivers 
 would be in better order for fishing. St.G. and his men continued 
 along the ridge back towards Simla, while I with regret made my 
 way alone, with my small following, down the rough path towards 
 the little town of Ndhan, which was prettily situated in the liroken 
 ground some 1100 feet below. I approached the little capital of
 
 136 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE inter- 
 
 the Sirmur state in some uncertainty where to camp, and as I 
 walked up through the hilly streets, which contained some large 
 white offices well shaded with trees, I asked the passers-by the 
 way to the bungalow which I had been told was here. On arri\dng 
 there I found the Eaja's gorgeous scarlet -clothed chaprassi, a 
 jemadar or officer of his forces, and a clerk who salamed low, all 
 of whom on the Eaja's behalf placed themselves at my disposal and 
 informed me that I was to consider myself His Highness's guest. 
 It was rather embarrassing suddenly to have this greatness thrust 
 upon one, for I was not accustomed to be waited upon by such splen- 
 did creations in scarlet and gold ; but I made the best of it — to the 
 delight of my servants at any rate, who saw in the arrangement a 
 few days of idleness and free rations — and was ushered into the 
 spacious bungalow, which was an excellent one in all respects save 
 that the mud roof had fallen in only a week or two previously, and 
 after the manner of the country was still lying where it fell, giving 
 the floors of some of the rooms the appearance of a ploughed field. 
 It is a great thing in the East to be punctihous about etiquette, 
 so I got rid of one of the scarlet gentlemen, who shadowed my 
 movements everywhere, by sending him with my salams to the 
 Raja to ask His Highness when it would please him to see me ; and 
 on the following morning, attended by Nainu in his Sunday best 
 — now alas ! sadly tattered and torn by our wanderings — I walked 
 out to the Eaja's handsome Italian villa, which stands on a small 
 hill about half a mile from the town. It is a well-built house, 
 standing in a pretty garden in which is a fine fountain that does 
 not play, with large flights of stone steps somewhat overgrown 
 with weeds leading up to the entrances. I was kindly received 
 by the Eaja without any state, in one of the rooms which was 
 comfortably furnished in European style, and spent an hour very 
 pleasantly with him alone. He is a middle-aged man of the good 
 and quiet type, well educated but rather heavy, though perhaps 
 in this respect he was handicapped by the English, which he spoke 
 in a somewhat slow and measured way. As rulers go, he is one of
 
 c " -« 
 
 A HILL MAIDEN
 
 MEZZO WESTERN GIVILISA TION ON EASTERN SUBJECTS 1 3 7 
 
 the better kind, for he at any rate spends his money on estimable, 
 even if rather unpractical objects, and has erected quite a large 
 foundry and several workshops in Nahan, which are managed for 
 him by an English engineer — the only remunerative product of 
 which, however, seemed to be a small iron sugar-mill to crush the 
 cane, thereby displacing the cumbrous and antiquated wooden 
 arrangements everywhere in use by the natives. 
 
 Eajas often, in their initiation into Western civilisation, show 
 an extraordinary variety of tastes in their development of the 
 disease. One, after his country has been carefully nursed for him 
 during his long minority by the British Government, will, on suc- 
 ceeding to his patrimony, become a jockey, associate with grooms, 
 and squander the money of his state in extravagant horse-racing. 
 Another, preferring the bottle, will consume all the fire-water 
 within his reach, until he is reduced in his mountain home to 
 cheering his flagging spirits with Worcestershire Sauce. A third 
 will develop the sporting mania, and surpass the most up-to-date 
 subaltern in the loudness of his checks, in the smartness of his 
 slang, and the swiftness of his polo ponies. All of which things 
 point not so much to an inherent vice in the native character, as 
 to the difficulty they have in the East of assimilating Western 
 ideas in due proportion. 
 
 The good Eaja of Sirmiir's tastes, however, lie in the more 
 orthodox direction of government by means of forms, tables, and 
 returns ; and when on leaving he asked me if he could do any- 
 thing for me, and I begged for permission to shoot in his State, 
 he graciously accorded this to me in the shape of a large printed 
 " Game License," on which all the animals, both feathered and 
 furred, that the bearer was permitted to shoot in His Highness's 
 territory, were classified in columns in such an exact and scientific 
 way, that I trembled to think that for the last ten days we had 
 been shooting away at them, quite regardless of the existence of 
 this great legal sanction. 
 
 I stayed three days at Ndhan, on one of wliich I watched a
 
 138 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE inter- 
 
 game of football played on the maidau. The game has been 
 started by the Raja's energetic English doctor, who is one of the 
 three Englishmen resident in the place, and was played with great 
 eagerness, even the Eaja's two grown-up sons — the elder of whom 
 is Lord Chief Justice, and the younger Commander-in-Chief of the 
 state — joining in, in a way that made one admire the native's 
 extraordinary capacity for rolling democracy and the feudal system 
 into one. Only the other day I saw a man throw himself on the 
 ground at St.G.'s feet, craving pardon for some trivial offence ; and 
 here just such another tumbles his Commander-m-Chief, his Eaja's 
 own son, over, in the all-levelling game of football. 
 
 From the Nahan bungalow, which is on the brow of the hill, 
 one gets a lovely view to the south over the flat plains of India, 
 stretching far away to the distant horizon. These had been 
 freshened up by the late rain, that even now threatened to descend 
 again from the black clouds above. The Kyarda Dun is a broad 
 valley lying about a thousand feet below ISTahan, between the low 
 Siwalik range and the Himalayas, and into this new country we 
 now marched, leaving the hills behind us. It was a great change 
 to find ourselves amongst the wide stretches of cultivation, now 
 brilliantly green with the young wheat, or yellow with the plenti- 
 ful crop of mustard. Alternating with this cultivated ground are 
 large patches of forest, mostly of sal trees — a valuable wood, whose 
 broad leaves afford a dense shade to the thick jungle -growth 
 beneath them. The road is a wide earthen track leading through 
 this pretty, homely country ; hamlets of little mud, grass-thatched 
 huts are dotted about, giving an air of peace and abundance to the 
 scene. 
 
 This was a most unusually wet winter, for the rain came on 
 again in torrents, making our camp at Kolar a wet one, and 
 causing us to delay a day at Majra, where we took shelter in the 
 large, rambling, pretentious bungalow, which turned out to be 
 truly a forlorn abode. The rooms were extensive and lofty, and a 
 noble colonnade supported the front verandah ; but the glory had
 
 MEZZO THE KYARDA DUN 139 
 
 long since departed, for the columns were bent and cracked with 
 age, and scarcely supported the thatched roof, through the rents 
 in which the rain streamed pitilessly down on to the mud floors of 
 the rooms. I pitched my tent in the main room, to keep out the 
 wet, and the servants, by lighting wood fires on all the hearths, 
 endeavoured to dry off some of the damp and musty smell that 
 pervaded the place. 
 
 But winter rains in India are not persistent, and next morning, 
 as if to apologise for its late remissness, the sun shone out with 
 renewed brilliancy, causing the whole landscape to sparkle in the 
 delicious freshness. While our wet tents were drying, Nainu and 
 I, armed with gun and rifle, not to mention the Eaja's great 
 game license, sallied forth for a walk through the jungle, and soon 
 came across the black francolin partridge in the tall brown grass, 
 and some peacocks picking up their food near the edges of the 
 cultivation. 
 
 Before we got home I had a snap shot at a cheetal stag 
 {Axis maculata), and bagged a smaller hog deer {Axis porcinus) ; 
 but in order to shoot successfully in this kind of country, one 
 needs to be elevated above the surrounding cover on an elephant's 
 back, for the grassy jungle is so high that on foot one can see but 
 little. I think it is not at all unlikely also that wild animals are 
 very sensitive through their feet to the vibrations of the earth 
 caused by man's tread, for no matter how noiselessly one walks 
 in the jungle, its inhabitants will mostly move off' at man's 
 approach long before he comes into sight, whereas they will bear 
 the close approach of an elephant, whose footsteps they know, 
 undismayed. 
 
 A traveller gets philosophical about time in India, where the 
 methods of delay are reduced to a fine art, but unless one has 
 become quite deadened as to its loss, it must be admitted that one is 
 often exasperated beyond endurance. I had a long march from 
 Mcijra, and wished to get well across the Jumna before evening, 
 with an hour or two's rest in the heat of the day, so orders were
 
 140 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE inter- 
 
 given to Nainu that we were to start next morning at six, which 
 orders were duly passed on to the mule-drivers. 
 
 Now the Punjabi mule-driver is a champion waster of time, even 
 in this country of procrastination. I awake, then, at seven, after 
 a night's rest in all the forlorn magnificence of the Majra bungalow, 
 and stand upon the verandah. No one is moving, only a pair of 
 pretty little grey-striped squirrels are gambolling on the grass in 
 the morning sun, while the inevitable crow lazily caws in the tree 
 overhead. "Abdurrahman." No answer. Louder, "Abdurrahman." 
 A sleepy answer from the recesses of the little cook-house across 
 the lawn, " Your Highness." " Bring tea." " Very well, your 
 Highness " ; and half an hour later, when I am dressed, tea is 
 brought. 
 
 At eight o'clock Nainu begins to roll up the tents, and my 
 things are packed into the mule-trunks. 
 
 By the time I have breakfasted nine o'clock has arrived. 
 Losing patience, I send for the mule-men, whose answer is that 
 they " are just coming." 
 
 9.15. The mule-men are to be seen aimlessly wandering about 
 near the picketed mules, each carrying a bit of rope or a salita — 
 the blanket in which they sew up the load. 
 
 9.20. Boiling over, I rush out to them with a stick. " Why are 
 you not ready, sons of pigs ? " " All is now prepared, Sahib, 
 we are ready to start." The mules look on unblushingly at 
 these barefaced lies : they have heard them before. However, my 
 presence, and a harmless torrent of English expletives, has an 
 enlivening effect, and they move a trifle faster, and carry two 
 ropes instead of one. I walk back to the bungalow hopelessly, 
 where Nainu is carrying out the boxes on to the verandah. 
 
 The mule-men now leave the mules, and come to arrange the 
 loads, which have to be wrapped and sewn up in the salitas before 
 they can be thrown over the beasts' backs. Although this is the 
 twelfth day out, you would imagine that the mule-men had never 
 seen the loads before : each in turn is lifted, weighed, and put down
 
 MEZZO MULE-DRIVERS' PROCRASTINATIONS 141 
 
 again ; and at 9,45 scarcely any progress has been made, — until; 
 convinced of the futility of leaning any longer upon such broken 
 reeds, I send Nainu, who is looked upon as a marvel of energy, to 
 do their work for them, and they gladly leave the matter to him. 
 
 At last, with the help of Abdurrahman and Abdulla, the cook, 
 the loads are got ready by about ten, and with much mutual 
 encouragement the mule -men shoulder their long poles, and file 
 off after their charges, and in the end reach their destination 
 without further mishap, — unless, indeed, the mules fall upon some 
 bad piece of road, or get frightened, as they did on this day, and 
 kick off their loads at the sight of the Eaja's long string of 
 elephants, that they met returning from the river Jumna. 
 
 I rode off after them through this pretty flat Kyiirda Diin, 
 upon which the crops of this bountiful wet season promised an 
 abundance for the villagers, whose life in their little grass huts 
 has nothing in common with that of the hill men, but is completely 
 that of the peaceful agriculturist of the plains. 
 
 At Paonta I picked up a few new kulis that the tehsildar had 
 kindly got for me, and then marched three miles up the Jumna 
 to the ferry at Eajghat, which took me across into the British 
 territory of Dehra Diin. 
 
 The change from the native state could at once be seen in the 
 engineer's hand on the roads and in the neat and tidy forest- 
 officers' bungalows about. I camped that evening near the Public 
 "Works Department bungalow, and looked out over the pretty 
 country towards the Asan rivei', where I had spent some very 
 happy days ten years previously. The same jagged points of the 
 Siwaliks, the same sal forests, and the same rushing torrent in 
 which we had fished, seemed but little changed in the years that 
 had passed. 
 
 Next day I pushed on to Eajawalla, to which place the Mac- 
 kinnons had most kindly sent their two elephants for my use, and 
 where I met many old friends, among whom was the faithful old 
 Biru, now grown grey, and the shikari Nathii, whom I had a year or
 
 142 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE inter- 
 
 two before escorted over Woolwich Arsenal under very different 
 conditions, on his visit to England. 
 
 Sapri, Monii, and others whom I remembered as little black 
 pot-bellied urchins, who used to excel with their pellet bows, had 
 now grown into lithe young men, Sapri having even taken unto 
 himself a wife, and reproduced his former self in miniature. 
 I was made warmly welcome by them all, and as Nainu was 
 amongst his " brothers " again, I felt as if it was quite a " home- 
 coming." 
 
 I intended spending a week here, awaiting the arrival of a 
 shooting-party that the Mackinnons had got up, so on the following 
 morning, ISTathii having come to tell me that the elephants were 
 ready, I sallied out and found the two huge beasts resting under 
 a tall clump of bamboos, where they stood philosophically munch- 
 ing the grass, which they plucked with their trunks from time to time 
 from the ground at their feet. The larger had a howdah on her back, 
 from which I was to shoot, while the smaller animal carried only a 
 mattress pad, upon which the game was to be strapped when shot. 
 At the command of her mahout, the big one, with the slow delibera- 
 tion that characterises every movement of an elephant, spreads her 
 legs out forwards and kneels down, and while Nainu holds her tail up 
 for a stirrup, I scramble up with difficulty over her hind-quarters and 
 climb into the howdah ; gun and rifles are handed up, Nathii and 
 Nainu join me, and then after being violently thrown backwards and 
 forwards as the elephant rises, I find myself standing in the howdah 
 with my head some fifteen feet above the ground, looking down on the 
 scene that seems an immense distance Ijelovv. Sapri has scrambled 
 up on to the pad elephant, and we move off with that slow and sway- 
 ing motion down the path which leads through the green cultiva- 
 tion about the little hamlet, to the wide jungle-covered bed of the 
 Soarna. Pea-fowls rise in numbers all around, the long tails of the 
 cock birds trailing gracefully after them as they fly away. These 
 beautiful birds are to be found here in numbers both morning 
 and evening, when they come out to scratch about among the
 
 MEZZO DEHBA DUN 143 
 
 villagers' crops, and I have counted as many as sixty at a time in 
 the fiat cultivated fields below the bungalow. 
 
 The whole of this part of the Dun, except where there are 
 patches of cultivation, is what is called forest country in India. 
 This consists here in stretches of sal trees — a straight-growing tree 
 pole with few horizontal branches, but whose broad round leaves 
 give a density to the growth. All through this forest country, 
 wherever a break in the trees allows of it, the tall pampas-like grass, 
 now brown with the winter's dryness, has grown up, often to a 
 height of ten or twelve feet, forming large fields of dense cover for 
 the game that shelters in it. 
 
 It can easily be imagined that one can do but little shooting 
 on foot in such a country as this, and an elephant is as much a 
 necessity as a comfort for a day's sport here. The general flat 
 lie of the ground is broken frequently by gullies or water-courses, 
 quite dry at this time of year, which are known by the universal 
 name of ncclas, and which, being mostly full of a tangled mass of 
 grass and bushes, afford an excellent place of retirement to the 
 larger game during tlie heat of the day. 
 
 We filed in silence down the steep bank into the broad bed of 
 the now waterless Soarna river, whose shingly course is almost 
 lost amidst the wide islands of tall grass, on which the thorny Ber 
 trees and acacias grow in a thick scrub. Into this tangled jungle 
 we plunge, the pad elephant taking a course parallel to us, some 
 eighty yards on our left, where from time to time she is visible as 
 she emerges out of the thick into the open. Not a sound is heard 
 but the continued swish, swish, as with slow and steady steps 
 the elephant ploughs her way through this sea of grass, twisting 
 and turning hither and thither, now to avoid a group of trees, now 
 to tread out an especially thick clump of grass which reaches 
 almost above her head. 
 
 If a camel is the " ship of the Desert," surely an elephant may 
 be well described as the " ship of the Jungle " ! 
 
 As I stand leaning; over the howdah with nothinii in front of
 
 144 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE inter- 
 
 me, for the mahout is well below and the elephant's neck is short, 
 I feel as if I was looking over the bows of a ship at sea — the wide 
 expanse before me, the slow swaying motion, the deep look down, 
 the hissing noise of the dry grass rustling against the elephant's 
 feet, increasing almost to a surge as she ploughs into the thick 
 waving stalks, and then the silent calm of her measured tread in 
 the open, while all the time, never increasing her pace, never 
 stopping, she moves ahead with that effortless deliberation that 
 seems to render her progress irresistible. 
 
 The elephant is a fascinating animal to observe, for his small 
 and expressionless eye gives not the slightest clue to what is pass- 
 ing within his brain, while all his movements betray an intelli- 
 gence and docility that constantly appeal to one's admiration. No 
 one ever heard of an elephant stumbling, for he gives you the 
 impression of moving with only one leg at a time while he holds 
 on with the other three ! With regular and well-considered steps 
 he will make his way over any imaginable ground, now lowering 
 himself steadily down an almost precipitous bank, only to climb 
 with equal deliberation up the opposite one. Again he picks his 
 careful way through the great boulders that strew the river-bed, 
 and then forces his way through the densest forest on the other 
 side, pausing only to wrench off with his trunk an overhanging 
 bough, or to break down a tree as thick as one's thigh, by placing 
 his foot against it, and bearing slowly on it with his weight, until 
 with a crash it gives way and leaves a path clear for the passage. 
 
 All these things and many others he seems to do out of his 
 own intelligence, but as a matter of fact, though nothing is said, 
 every movement is directed by the mahout as he sits astride of the 
 short neck ; for with his knees concealed under the elephant's 
 huge ears, he conveys by pressure all his wishes and directions to 
 the docile beast. 
 
 The interest is intense as one is thus silently carried into the 
 very home of the wild animals, as any step may reveal the expected 
 game. Every eye is strained to catch sight of the looked-for forms.
 
 MEZZO IN THE DUN JUNGLES 145 
 
 Then as the elephant brushes through the tall grass, or parts the 
 sal saplings in his way, suddenly Nathii behind me whispers 
 " Dutt, dutt " ; and as Bhagan the mahout silently stops the 
 elephant, he points through the trees, where with much difficulty 
 I make out the heads of some alarmed cheetal standing for a 
 moment. " Madi'n " (females), adds Nathii, as they bound away 
 showing their graceful forms in their headlong flight over the 
 tufted grass. Again and again this happens, for it is quite remark- 
 able what a number of hinds one sees for every stag. The noble 
 stag at home, indeed, treats his female relatives to very scant pro- 
 tection, being always the first to disappear and the last to venture 
 when there is danger about. 
 
 On we go in our search, now wading into an especially thick 
 clump of grass, when a headlong rush from under his very feet 
 causes the elephant to give a shrill trumpet of alarm, and I get 
 half a glimpse of something black which tells me that a drove of 
 pig are flashing through the grass at lightning speed. A snap shot 
 at these, or maybe at a single hog deer (so called from the pig- 
 like way he bolts through the grass), is all one gets. Following 
 the direction the cheetal have gone, the whirr of a black partridge 
 getting up just in front makes me hastily put down my rifle and 
 seize my gun. Another quarter of a mile through the thick trees as 
 we circle round to try and head the deer we had noticed, when "Dutt, 
 dutt" again stops the elephant, and I get in a shot through the thick 
 trees at the place where I see the horns of a stag above the cover. 
 
 One has to get used to shooting from an elephant's back, for 
 though seeming to stand still yet he is always moving, gently 
 swaying to and fro. 
 
 "Lugga, Sahib ! Mail, mail, Bhagan jaldi " (" Hit, Sahib ! Hurry 
 on, Bhagan "), calls Nathu as the elephant, urged on by Bhagan, 
 crashes at a shuttling pace through the trees in the direction of 
 the wounded deer. The pad elephant, attracted by the shot, has 
 approached, and Sapri has already slipped to the ground, is walking 
 before us parting the long grass with his hands and picking up 
 
 L
 
 146 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 the traces of blood in a most marvellous way. A hundred yards 
 farther on we find the panting stag, and Bhagan, slipping down from 
 his perch, rushes forward just in time to perform the Mohammedan 
 ceremony of Halal, by cutting the animal's throat as he utters the 
 words "Bis millah " ("In the name of God") ; for meat is not fit food 
 for the follower of the Prophet unless the life is taken in this way. 
 The pad elephant is now brought up and with some difficulty 
 
 
 coaxed near, for in spite of their stanch courage many are timid at 
 the sight of blood ; but at last the deer is slung upon its back and 
 tied with ropes, and off' we go again, halting only in the middle of 
 the day when the sun is hot, to eat our lunch of cold meat and 
 chapattis under the shade of a big tree, while the men squat on the 
 ground in a circle round the few burning sticks they have kindled, 
 and pass the consoling pipe of tobacco from hand to hand. 
 
 Perhaps the whole afternoon may be spent in looking for a
 
 MEZZO ELEPHANT'S DOCILITY 147 
 
 stag in vain, and though tigers' footprints are continually seen on 
 the little sandy forest paths, we looked without success for that 
 prince of beasts himself. So we turn our steps homewards, beating 
 through the brown grass beside the stony bed of the Soarna, where 
 the peacocks fly up from their evening stroll, affording pretty shots. 
 An old bird is dry and tough, but the young ones are well-flavoured 
 and excellent eating. 
 
 I get home about five o'clock, and am glad to stretch my legs 
 after standing all day in the howdah, when the insatiable Sapri 
 approaches and begs me to come while he beats the bank along 
 the edge of the river-bed for jungle-fowl ; and in a few minutes I 
 am running on ahead, looking up at the steep jungle-covered bank, 
 while Sapri, Nainu, Monu, and all the little black imps of the 
 place are making the air hideous with shouts and stones as they 
 drive the pea-fowl and jungie-fowl out of the sheltering bushes. 
 
 Of an evening I stroll out and watch the homely life of these 
 simple people, — the little boys exercising their hunting instincts 
 in shooting at small birds with their pellet bows with marvellous 
 skill; while the mahout's children, little mites whose long 
 black elf-locks formed almost their sole clothing, made always a 
 pretty picture as they played fearlessly with the huge elephants, 
 one little girl sitting in the curved trunk of the great beast as he 
 good-naturedly swung her backwards and forwards in answer to 
 her shrill demands. 
 
 A week of this pleasant and interesting life passed all too quickly, 
 and I hurried into Dehra to join my friends the Mackinnons, who 
 with true Indian hospitality had taken the great trouble to collect 
 a number of elephants together for a week's shooting in the 
 Eastern Dun. 
 
 The amount of organisation and care required to get up a suc- 
 cessful shooting camp is often little realised by those who are asked 
 to share in the sport. It is not easy to get together even fifteen 
 elephants, for the owners of these useful animals are few and far 
 apart, and it is difficult to get the loan of them all at the same
 
 148 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE inter- 
 
 time. Sufficient cainp equipage has to be got together ; provision 
 of food has to be made both for the shooters and for the army of 
 followers ; the camp has to be pitched where there is fodder and 
 water for the elephants ; and if the spot is out of the way, a post 
 has to be established to get letters and necessaries from head- 
 quarters. All these things and a thousand others entail an amount 
 of care and trouble that no one who has not been behind the 
 scenes can realise ; but in India such trouble is lightly undertaken 
 by those who unselfishly delight in giving pleasure to others; and to 
 this fact, no doubt, is due the happy recollections that every one has, 
 whose good fortune it has been to journey thither in search of sport. 
 
 Our camp was first pitched at Eaiwala on the Ganges, a few miles 
 above Hardwar ; and those of the party who did not fish were out 
 every day in the jungles of the Eastern Diin, where our long line of 
 thirteen elephants swept over a large strip of country at each beat. 
 Amongst our party was the Eaja Eanbir Singh, whose father was 
 one of the chiefs of the Punjab when we conquered it, and who, on 
 our taking over the country, was pensioned. The Eaja now lives 
 in Dehra, and is known everywhere as one of the best sportsmen 
 as well as one of the most courteous and unassuming gentlemen of 
 the district. He has all the pleasant manner and disposition that 
 is so characteristic of the Sikhs ; and though on the whole, owing 
 to bad weather setting in, we were not very fortunate in our sport, 
 yet it was a pleasure I often enjoyed, in being on the elephant next 
 to the Eaja, to see the sportsmanlike way he brought down his game. 
 
 We shot towards Kans Eao, and though the Eaja, who knows 
 every inch of the ground, took us to all the most likely places for 
 tiger, yet we were not fortunate enough to come across one.^ 
 
 ^ That there are tigers about here was proved in a sad way only a few months 
 after our visit to the neighbourhood. The Raja and an English friend of his, who 
 had many years l)eeu resident in the Diin, A^ere staying at Kans Rao, and one 
 morning the Englishman, who was an old and well-tried hunter, taking with him 
 only a single native, started oif early and made his way to the high ground of the 
 Siwalik range in the hopes of stalking a stag sambur at da}'break. Being unsuccessful, 
 he was retracing his stejis, when he heard at no great distance tlic loud piu-ring of a
 
 MEZZO TIGERS AT KANS RAO 149 
 
 Still we had fair sport among the pig and the cheetal and the par- 
 tridge, while our bags sometimes included such curiosities as por- 
 cupines, and once a low grey-backed animal looking like a cross 
 between a badger and a sloth, whose proper place in natural history 
 none of us knew. 
 
 The shooting and the fishing went on for ten days, when the party 
 broke up, and after a flying visit to Mussoorie, I had to think about 
 starting for tlie frontier, for in such pleasant company time was 
 slipping by, 
 
 I got rid of all my men except Nainu, who happily had 
 little idea of the journey that was before him ; and after the 
 usual preparation of condensing my baggage to a minimum, I said 
 good-bye to my kind friends, and started off on our forty-five miles' 
 drive to Saharunpur to catch the train that was to carry us off to new 
 scenes and new faces, to a country which, though in the same pro- 
 vince of the Punjab, was as different from that in which I had been 
 spending the last four months as one could find in the world. 
 
 tiger, and on cautiously approaching the spot he found a male and female tiger play- 
 ing together in the open, and so occupied were they with each other that he was able 
 to approach within fifteen yards of them unnoticed. He could not resist the tempta- 
 tion of so easy a shot and fired. One tiger moved oft', but the other, apparently un- 
 wounded, turned sharply round, and springing upon the unfortunate man, seized him 
 by the thigh and carried him oft" into the thick cover, where it proceeded to maul 
 him. His native attendant's account was that he found his master after a short 
 search in a dying condition, and was asked Ijy him to go at once to the Raja for helj). 
 This the man did, finding the Raja fishing near Kans Rao. The Raja very wisely at 
 once ordered his elephant to be got ready, and accompanied by tlie man, went up to 
 the scene of the accident, where, however, they had some difficulty in finding the 
 exact spot. While searching al)Out, tlie tiger, which liad evidently been watching 
 them for some time, to their intense surprise, sprang suddenly out of a thicket on to 
 the elephant's hindquarters. The Raja was unable to fire owing to his nearly l)eing 
 thrown out of the howdah by tlie violent struggles which the elephant made in its 
 endeavour to free itself from the brute that was clawing it. At last tlic plucky animal 
 succeeded in shaking off the tiger, and then stood firm for a moment, while the Raja 
 sent a bullet through it, which killed it on the spot. Not far off, the body of the 
 unfortunate Englishman was found. The tiger had apparently not returned to him 
 after killing him.
 
 Sketcli Map of 
 
 PART OFTHE 
 
 ffl EMAIL ATA^ 
 
 SIR country .shaded. Plains white. 
 Jleights in feet. 
 Auth.
 
 PAET II.-KURAM
 
 CHAPTEE I 
 
 The green plains of India are left far behind, the cities embowered 
 in trees and teeming with hot life have disappeared from off the 
 surface of the earth, while all the morning we have been passing 
 through a most extraordinary broken and barren stony desert of 
 low hills, cut up by deep ravines ; and now all heads crane out of 
 the windows as the train slowly crawls into the little wayside 
 station of Attock. Even the hot midday sun cannot lull the 
 excitement which one feels at reaching the Indus at last, and 
 stepping across that great natural boundary between India and 
 Central Asia. 
 
 The train pulls up at the unpretentious platform just at the 
 commencement of the great bridge, and we dash out with quite 
 unnecessary haste, for, as the good-natured guard reminds us, we 
 are still in the East, and Indian trains are in no liurry to start 
 again without ample warning. 
 
 We run down the steep rough path to the strip of sand on the 
 river's edge, and there before us flows the Indus in great brown 
 swirls, looking very sullen and deep, as if in no pleasant humour 
 at being confined between these narrow cliffs after wantonly 
 spreading at its ease over the flat country above. A noble river 
 even at this time of the year when it is at its lowest. And there, 
 hanging high above our heads, in fine contrast too, is the great 
 iron railway bridge, which, regardless of the river's temper or 
 power, stands firmly astride of it, a striking if peaceful eml^lem of
 
 154 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 England's hold upon India. The bridge itself is of the ordinary 
 straight-girder type, on high latticed iron columns, startmg from a 
 masonry foundation. The whole of the difficulty in the construction 
 of this great work, the main artery, so to speak, of the X.W. frontier 
 traffic, must have been in these foundations, for they have to with- 
 stand a rise of some sixty feet of water during the rains, when the 
 river comes boiling down with an almost immeasurable force. 
 
 One gets a good view also of the bridge after the train has 
 slowly rumbled across, and has run up the opposite bank until 
 abreast of the old Attock ferry with Akbar's picturesque fort com- 
 manding it. There is always plenty of ancient history attaching 
 to a ford or ferry, and Attock has been for centuries one of the 
 gates of India. The still more ancient road, however, from 
 Afghanistan to India crossed the Indus some twenty-five miles 
 below Attock, at Nilab, and it was probably at this place that Alex- 
 ander and his army were ferried over. Possibly also a testimony 
 to the former greatness of Nilab — the words mean " blue water " — 
 lies in the fact that to this day all the profession of boatmen on 
 the Kabul river and the Indus are called Nilabis. 
 
 The train loiters along slowly enough for one to get an 
 admirable view of the country, it being even on record that the 
 sporting subaltern lets his fox-terrier out for a run at one station 
 and picks him up at the next, for happily the iron horse has suited 
 his temper to his surroundings, and has adopted a gentle trot in 
 the place of the bustling gallop that we Westerns are so accustomed 
 to in railway travelling. 
 
 The Valley of Peshawur now opens out in a large basin, some 
 thirty miles across, and the \'iew is tyj)ical of this part of the world. 
 High rugged mountains surround the flat basin, brown in middle 
 distance and blue in the far-off ranges of Buner and Swat, with 
 the snow-capped peaks of the Chitral country away to the north, 
 almost fading into the opal haze of the Indian sky. Tlie valley 
 looks barren enough — stones and dry earth in abundance, with 
 scarcely a tree ; for here we have to deal with a country where water
 
 CHAP. I A PESEAWUR RAILWAY STATION 155 
 
 does not come to the land by nature and art has to be resorted to 
 to supply the want, the average annual rainfall being only some 
 fifteen inches (about half that of England), while the heat in 
 summer is intense. About once every five or six years, however, 
 the heavens are bountiful, and an abundant winter rain sends every 
 man out to plough the moistened ground and throw in his wheat 
 and barley seed. The whole valley then is transformed suddenly 
 into one bright sheet of green, and " the desert blossoms abundantly 
 as the rose." 
 
 The train dawdles leisurely along the flat open country, the 
 only incongruous feature in the landscape being the neat and tidy 
 railway stations at which we pull up every ten minutes. Here 
 we learn from the orthodox white board with the orthodox black 
 letters that this part of Central Asia is called Jehangira Eoad, the 
 next ISTaoshera, and then Pabbi. Strangely out of place also on 
 the neat conventional platform is the surging, hurrying crowd, 
 that always is to be seen at an Indian railway station. Where 
 they are going to and why, as the Afghan himself would say, Allah 
 'alim (God alone knows). But here they are in masses — old men 
 in tattered garments with heavy bundles on their shoulders, the 
 burly peasant wrapped in his dirty postin or sheepskin coat, timid 
 women dragging children after them and vainly endeavouring to 
 keep up with their hurrying lords. Here come two strapping 
 young fellows six feet high at least, elbowing their way through 
 the crowd, evidently young Pathan sepoys from the regiment near. 
 They wear no uniform off duty, but their loose white cotton 
 trousers, like full skirts, are spotlessly clean. A dark cloth 
 tightly-fitting tunic covers their lithe bodies, and a wonderful 
 turban, with one long end behind falling to the waist, sets off 
 their round chubby boyish faces. A finishing touch of swagger to 
 these young bloods is the black curl or love-lock, which they wear 
 carefully plastered against their cheeks just in front of their ears. 
 
 The crowd surges to and fro up and down the platform, vainly 
 seeking room in the already crowded train ; now tuml^ling in
 
 156 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 their confusion into a first-class carriage, only to be pulled out 
 ])y the hind leg again l)y the angry guard. Truly the train 
 is no respecter of persons, and at last they are all bundled 
 in somewhere and somehow, and on we go to have the scene 
 repeated ten minutes later at the next station. It is like a scene 
 in a play, only the game is in earnest to the bewildered Oriental. 
 
 Soon the irrigated green fields and the fine clumps of trees tell 
 us that we are nearing Peshawur, and in the evening light we 
 catch glimpses of the dusty red mud walls of the big fort and the 
 confused mass of houses of the city. The crowds swarm out of the 
 train only to be lost in the greater crowd on the platform, and the 
 train, now empty except for two or three Sahibs and their attendants, 
 steams slowly on to the Peshawur cantonment, the end of all 
 things and the last railway station on the line towards the un- 
 known future. 
 
 As all the world knows, we hold India ultimately by the sword, 
 though some are ignorant enough for their own purposes to blink 
 at the fact ; and though we live in the cantonment at some dis- 
 tance, surrounded by well-swept roads, gardens, racket courts, 
 perambulators, and other signs of civilisation, yet almost within 
 hail of us lies the great seething city of Peshawur, which probably 
 contains a greater number of blackguards per square inch than any 
 other town of its size. But, in the pride of your white face, quite 
 forgetting the regiments drilling on the l^urning parade-ground in 
 the cantonments, or, for the matter of that, the lives of such men 
 as Mackeson, Fulford, and Adams (the latter cut down on this 
 very spot), you walk as carelessly through the Kabul Gate as you 
 would through Bond Street, and satisfy your curiosity by wander- 
 ing idly through the crowded bazars and narrow alleys of the city 
 at your will. 
 
 And what a crowd it is — sombre and dark in colour, but mth 
 a bewildering number of types : Jewish-looking Afghans, black- 
 haired Khattaks from the Indus, sleepy -looking Persian merchants, 
 here and there the face of a Tartar, who has come from Bokhara
 
 CHAP. I PESHAJFUB CITY 157 
 
 with his camels laden with carpets; Afn'dis from the Khyber, 
 Yusufizais from the valley, and a host of others. But how unlike 
 " India " here ! One instinctively feels that all are men, and there 
 is no salaming, but one has to draw oneself up an inch or two 
 taller as in passing by they take your measure in their bold, 
 straight stare. Happily they know, better than the innocent 
 traveller does, that if they touched a hair of his head the arm of 
 the Sirkar (as wielded by the Deputy and Police Commissioners) 
 would fall swiftly and heavily on the whole street. 
 
 The inhabitants of the city have evidently always been of a 
 class who have needed a strong hand. The kindly relations of the 
 governors and the governed, even in the time of the Mogul Empire 
 in the 17th century, are expressed in the well-known lines that 
 Kipling has noticed : 
 
 Pa sabab da Zaiimano Hakimdno, 
 Pekhor, wa gor, \va or, 
 Drewarali yau di. 
 
 (On account of the tyrannous governors, Peshawur, the grave, and hell-fire, all 
 
 three are one.) 
 
 Then the Sikhs conquered the city and had their turn. Avitabile, 
 a Neapolitan in the Sikh service, who was governor of I'eshawur for 
 some years, found it necessary to hang his criminals from the walls 
 of the Gor Katri in the face of the v/hole city. And now, as the idle 
 traveller leans over those very parapets, nothing looks more peaceful 
 than the brown mass of house-tops spread out before him ; here the 
 white domes of a small mosque peeping out, there the dusty red walls 
 of the Fort showing between the trees. In the foreground some 
 women and children are spending their day upon the tiat liouse- 
 tops below, and in the background, across the twelve-mile stretch 
 of flat desert, rise the brown hills of Afghanistan and the Khyber. 
 The city, like most in the East, is intensely interesting ; and 
 though there is no architecture worthy of the name, there are 
 many picturesque corners, notably under one huge tree in the 
 bazar, where the money-changers sit with piles of coins spread out
 
 158 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 before them — coins of all sorts, from Greco-Bactrian silver pieces 
 which still survive the long gone dynasties, to the new rupees from 
 the Kabul mint. 
 
 The eye, however, is delighted with the thronging mass of 
 picturesque life, the strings of camels and donkeys. Here a heated 
 bargain between a buyer and seller attracts as idle a crowd as 
 does a fallen cab-horse in Piccadilly ; there a crowd of Salvation 
 Army proportions follows some wildly posturing Hindu dancers to 
 the rhythm of strange music and clashmg cymbals ; while to and 
 fro flows the endless stream of passers-by of all sorts, from the 
 swago-ering young Pathans, walking boldly hand in hand, to the 
 timid Government babu, with now and then the figure of a woman 
 wrapped from head to foot in her white linen biirka. 
 
 No one who has been in India can go away without having 
 experienced the graceful hospitality of the country ; and after an 
 uncomfortable night in a so-called hotel, I found myself established 
 in the delightful bungalow of the General commanding. Sir Henry 
 Collett, to whose kindness I, as well as many others, owe many 
 pleasant reminiscences. 
 
 Of course no one can go to Peshawur without having a 
 look at the Khyber, It is a matter easily arranged, for on 
 Tuesdays and Fridays the pass is, in official parlance, "open." 
 The dog-cart is ordered, and a pleasant drive of twelve miles in 
 the crisp dry morning air, over a flat stony desert, brmgs us 
 to Jamriid Port, at the edge of the plain and at the mouth of the 
 Khyber. These frontier forts are just such as children delight to 
 make out of mud, and I looked on this one with envious eyes. 
 Their smooth mud walls have a round tower at each corner, and 
 the keep rises in tiers above the outer waU, with the conventional 
 flagstaff on the highest point, from which the dear old Union Jack 
 hangs lazily down in the still an-. Here at last we are really on 
 the frontier, and one step will take us across it. Groups of wild- 
 looking men of the Khyber Ptifles stand about in their long black 
 military greatcoats, with Snider rifles in their hands, and the
 
 CHAP. I KHYBER ARRANGEMENTS 159 
 
 escort that has been provided for us of a couple of sowars of a 
 native cavalry regiment stand by their horses. Colonel Warburton, 
 who has charge of the pass, welcomes us with the assurance that 
 he is only too glad to see as many visitors to his pass as can come, 
 for, as he says, the more the Afridis get used to seeing people 
 coming and going the better. The fact is that the old system of 
 leaving these wild tribes to their own devices has been given up 
 as a failure. We used to wait until they had accumulated a 
 sufficient number of murders and robberies and raids on the more 
 peaceful dwellers in the valley, to exhaust the patience of the long- 
 suffering authorities. Then an expedition was ordered ; with great 
 difficulty troops were marched up into the stony mountains; a 
 few long shots were exchanged, a village or two burnt; and 
 as nothing was to be seen of the inhabitants, we retired ; medals 
 were then handed round, and the bill came to many lacs of rupees. 
 Now a wise Government says to the tribes, " Look here, my friends, 
 we will pay you first on condition that you are good afterwards ; 
 but understand, should you misbehave in any way, we won't trouble 
 ourselves to ask who has done it, but we simply stop the allowance 
 of the tribe in whose district the outrage is committed, as a fine." 
 Now an Afridi, at any rate in his own estimation, as much as 
 any other man, must live. His country grows only stones, and his 
 precarious existence is eked out by selling in Peshawur, in the 
 winter, scanty bundles of firewood collected off his barren hills. 
 So their chief occupation has come to be thieving and robbing. 
 Captain James in his interesting report says of them : " Expertness 
 in thieving is the sole characteristic which leads to distinction 
 among the Zakha Khel Afridis on the south entrance to the Khyber 
 Pass. It is a virtue which maidens seek in their future husbands, 
 and mothers fondly look to for their new-born babes. Every male 
 child is consecrated, as it were, at his birth to crime ; a hole is dug 
 in the wall similar to those made by burglars, and the infant is 
 passed backwards and forwards through it with the words, ' Glial 
 shah, glial shah, ghal shah,' ' Be a thief, be a thief, be a thief
 
 160 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part it 
 
 They are the principal enactors of the daring crimes formerly per- 
 petrated in the Pesha^vur cantonments, but by no means confine 
 themselves to these, but rob the Bangashes of Kohat as well as 
 the Khulils on the Peshawur-Attock road, and no other tribe is 
 safe from their depredations. It is also related of this tribe that, 
 being without a ziarat, or place of pilgrimage, in their own borders, 
 and being thus compelled to resort to the territories of their more 
 fortunate neighbours, they seized and killed the first worshipful 
 subject who came in theu' way. The unlucky man was a Khattak, 
 and as he answered all requirements he was slain. Stones were 
 heaped over him, and in a few days the Zakha Khel were proudly 
 paying their devotions at the grave of ' their own ' Pir, or Spiritual 
 Lord ! " 
 
 It will easily be understood that it would be an expensive 
 business to pay such men as these to be quiet every day of the week ; 
 so the arrangement has been come to, that for such and such sum 
 paid to them by the Government they are to behave like Christians 
 on Tuesdays and Fridays. They therefore do their throat-cutting, 
 pillaging, robbing on five days of the week (Sundays included), 
 but on the remaining two sit quietly on the hill-tops, no doubt with 
 watering mouths watching the rich caravans of laden camels, and 
 now and then the British tourist, passing to and fro in the narrow 
 valley below. If a shot is fired, that part of the tribe in whose 
 division of the road the shot was fired, gets Es. 1000 stopped out 
 of its allowance next quarter-day — 500 of which go to Government, 
 and 500 to the lucky man fired at. 
 
 This arrangement is business-like, and with the help of the 
 Khyber Eifles — a useful body enlisted from the tribes themselves 
 and ably commanded by Mahomed Aslam Khan, who garrison Ali 
 Masjid and other forts in the pass — it works well. 
 
 It will thus be seen that a ride through the dreaded Khyber 
 is under present arrangements an easy and interesting, as well 
 as a possibly lucrative, way of spending a day. 
 
 A very well laid out, though stony, road leads from Jamnid over
 
 ^k^ 
 
 ■^>.'' 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■"a::.>i
 
 CHAP. I ALI MASJID 161 
 
 a ridge, and then drops down into the Khyber valley just before 
 reaching Ali Masjid Fort, which stands well on the top of a hill, in 
 the centre of the pass, just where it is most closed in. I certainly 
 had imagined, and I think it is a common impression, that the 
 celebrated Khyber Pass is a romantic " gorge " shut in by '■' cliffs " 
 on both sides rising to stupendous heights, but the photograph on 
 the opposite page will give a better idea of this the narrowest 
 part of the valley. There is no " gorge," nor are there " cliffs " 
 here. It is rather, as the photograph shows, a narrow, barren 
 valley, with steep stony mountains on either side — the whole 
 devoid of vegetation, except for a small evergreen bush that grows 
 between the stones. Still it is very impressive, as being the only 
 gate into India that is at all practicable on this part of the 
 frontier, and the romance of its past associations with the 
 disastrous retreat in 1841 still clings to it.^ 
 
 The mountains are very sparsely inhabited ; not more than one 
 or two villages are seen in the six miles' drive from Jannud to 
 Ali Masjid, and the only living things that catch your eye are 
 the two sentries of the Khyber Eitles, who occupy every hill-top 
 over the road, and present arms to the white faces passing below. 
 It is a wild and rugged scene, inhospitable to the last degree as a 
 human habitation, and one would need an Afridi's lungs to be 
 able to do any good on such hills as these. 
 
 Ali Masjid, which derives its name from the little white mosque 
 that was built some 600 years ago at the foot of the steep hill on 
 which the fort stands, probably by some Tiirki invaders, was once a 
 famous and powerful stronghold, but has had to bow its head before 
 the long-range cannon and far-shooting rifle of modern times ; and 
 its walls still bear the marks of the shot from the guns of the 
 
 ^ Curiously enough the massacre of our troops in this retreat has no real connection 
 with the Khyber Pass. It took place in the Kluird Kabul and Lataband Passes, the 
 last stand being at Gandamak, some sixty miles from the western end of the Khj'ber 
 Pass itself, tlie sole survivor reaching Jalalabad, which itself is forty miles beyond 
 the Khyber. 
 
 M
 
 162 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 British battery that forced the pass in the war of 1878. Now it is 
 but a post of the Khyber Eifles, and a goal for the British tourist 
 to visit, from the walls of. which he can conveniently solve the 
 whole of the " Afghan question " to his own satisfaction. 
 
 A fine caravan of some 200 camels, on its way to Kabul, 
 slowly straggled along the road below us, as we sat on the walls 
 of Ali Masjid ; and were it not for the heavy tolls exacted by the 
 Amir, a fine trade might be done with Afghanistan by this route. 
 As it is, tlie light tolls levied by the English on passing goods 
 almost cover the cost of the Khyber Rifles. 
 
 AVhile at Peshawur the colonel commanding the 28th Punjab 
 Infantry was kind enough to get up a " Kliattak dance " of the 
 Khattaks in his regiment. They are a tribe that live on the west 
 bank of the Indus no great distance from Kohat, and are celebrated, 
 like other highlanders, for their sword dances. A huge bonfire 
 was made on an open plain, and after dinner we all walked there 
 through the starry night, and found a tent pitched and chairs put 
 for us to sit on, for like most Eastern dances it is a long business. 
 A great crowd of natives and Sepoys, the latter not in uniform, 
 stood round in an enormous circle, tlieir faces lit up by the flare 
 of the fire and their big turbans and flowing trousers made more 
 picturesque by the weird light. Then began the inevitable 
 tomtom, drummed with the palms of the drummers' hands, a 
 dull thud to the shrill but monotonous melody of a reed-pipe 
 such as the Italian inffcrari use. Following the music, in a long 
 single-file procession, marching with slow and hesitating step in 
 exact time to the drum, came the Khattak Sepoys, dressed in their 
 white skirt-like trousers to the ankles, with bare feet, a dark tunic 
 of some sort fitting closely to their active forms. Their big dark 
 pagris, one end of which hangs down their backs, made them look 
 all the taller, big men though they were. 
 
 After circling the fire in a wide ring, for there were some sixty 
 dancers, the measure increased in time, and the steps became 
 quicker, as they stooped first to one side and then with a sudden
 
 CHAP. I A KHATTAK DANCE 163 
 
 twist again to the other, gesticulating with their arms and 
 clapping their hands together now and again, in time to the music. 
 Gradually the music warms up, the drums beat faster, and the 
 pipes become wilder, while the men answer with leaps and cries. 
 Suddenly a rush is made for the swords which lie in a heap on 
 the ground, each man seizes one in his hand, and the long 
 procession again slowly circles the fire with spasmodic jerky 
 step, twisting and turning and stamping the ground in strict 
 time to the music ; a sort of " engaging the enemy " first on one 
 side and then on the other, until the air is full of twisting men, 
 their skirts flying out, their swords flashing wonderfully in every 
 direction, the music gradually working them up to the quickest 
 step. 
 
 Then out of the line came flying first one and then another, 
 executing a very graceful ims scul. Skimming over the ground 
 with invisibly small steps, waving a sword in each hand round 
 their heads, they pirouetted and executed feats of agility, no doubt 
 to show off their fighting activities, feats which were applauded by 
 the ever-increasing wild cries of their companions, until in the 
 climax of excitement they finally threw themselves down before 
 the maddened musicians, their heads being surrounded by a sort of 
 halo of flashing swords lit up by the glare of the fire, the flames 
 of which leapt high into the sky owing to the plentiful libations 
 of Baku petroleum, lavishly poured on by the enthusiastic 
 attendants. 
 
 A strange wild sight indeed, which gives one an idea how close 
 one is to the edge of civilisation as one sits there comfortably in 
 an arm-chair in one's dress clothes and patent leather shoes. 
 
 While at Peshawur I was fortunate enough to get the Govern- 
 ment's permission to join the Kuram force, where my friend 
 Merk was at that moment engaged in extending the British 
 Empire, and I called on Mr. Hastings, the chief of the Peshawur 
 Police, who was kind enough to give me the help that is always 
 so willingly extended in India.
 
 164 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 My arrangements were soon made, for instead of going back 
 by train to Eawal Pindi, and returning thence by train and road 
 to Kohat, a zigzag journey, I wanted tu ride from Peshawur through 
 the Kohat Pass, direct to Kohat, and so accomplish a long-wished- 
 for journey through that point of the enemy's country between 
 the Peshawur and Kohat districts that I have so often contem- 
 plated on maps, sticking out obstinately as it does into British 
 territory. 
 
 I was told that the road was bad, but that a lightly-loaded 
 ekha covld get through. So on the evening of the 5th of March I 
 called Nainu, whose ideas of the greatness as well as the wicked- 
 ness of this world were increasing in proportion to the distance he 
 travelled from his beloved Himalayas, and gave him my final in- 
 structions that my luggage was to be put on three ekhas, and that 
 he was to start with it at six o'clock next morning, punctually, in 
 order to get it through the forty miles to Kohat in the day. He 
 seemed about as cheerful as a country child would be on being 
 told to find its way alone across London, but I comforted him by 
 telling him that I should be coming along the same road a few 
 hours later, and would pay the necessary funeral obsequies to 
 liis corpse. Poor Nainu, the mild Hindu pahari, I expect, often 
 had some wild nightmares in this rough Mohammedan country. 
 
 Next morning at nine, owing to Mr. Hastings' kind arrange- 
 ments, Syud Mahomed Amir, the dapper commandant of the 
 Border Military Police, drove up to the bungalow in his dog-cart, 
 and after a cordial God-speed from the General, I started on the 
 twenty-miles' level drive to Ainiul Chabiitra. A heavy fog and 
 drizzling rain, which seemed strangely out of place in this dry 
 country, made the earthen roads very bad going, and I soon began 
 to have my doubts as to the progress of Nainu and the baggage, for 
 even our pony was only able to pull us a great part of the way at 
 a walk. Long before the fog lifted we had left I'eshawur and its 
 green cultivation far behind, as the Mi'r Sahib and I whiled away the 
 time, he telling me stories about the country, and I endeavouring
 
 AT THE GATE OF ALI MASJID FORT
 
 CHAP. I AN ARITHMETICAL PROBLEM 165 
 
 to enlighten him as to the difference between the East and the 
 West ; but it is rather trying to one's Hindustani to be suddenly 
 thrown into conversation with a native gentleman, in which " dps " 
 and the third personal pronoun predominate to an extraordinary 
 degree ; but by dint of filling up every pause in the conversation 
 with them, I trust he did not think I was disrespectful enough to 
 wish to tutoycr him. 
 
 All too soon the expected sight of the three black specks on 
 the broad open plain was seen, and before long we were up to 
 Nainu and the three struggling ekhas. The wretched ponies looked 
 dead beat, the wheels were clogged with mud, Nainu was walking 
 with his shoes in one hand, pushing the ekha with the other, while 
 the wild-looking driver on the other side adjured the pony with 
 voice and arm to make another effort. The end of the " made 
 road " was some four miles farther on ; time, midday ; and still 
 twenty-four miles to Kohat. Inwardly my mind went back to 
 my schoolboy days. If an ekha takes six hours to travel sixteen 
 miles along a " made road," how many hours would the same take 
 to do twenty-four miles over the Kohat hills ? Multiply the 
 answer by the number of ekhas, three, and the product gives the 
 time when I expected to see my baggage again. 
 
 However, sympathy witli misfortune is in many cases direct 
 discouragement, so I waved my hand in a friendly way to Nainu, 
 and called to him that he would find the guard ready to take him 
 through the pass a few miles farther on, and drove away. 
 
 Aimul Chabutra, the Kesting-place of Aimul (though why he 
 chose such a place to rest in " God alone knows "), is a little mud 
 fort standing alone, just at the base of the hills where a narrow 
 valley comes out. It is surrounded on all sides by stones and sun, 
 and, from its appearance, looks as if it had never known the mean- 
 ing of such words as water and shade. 
 
 It is one of the posts of that excellent force, the Border 
 Military Police, to whose care is confided the peace of the actual 
 frontier. Some half a dozen of them turned out and stood at
 
 166 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 attention as theii' commandant drove up, and a native bedstead 
 was brought out for me to sit on while I partook of some very- 
 sugary and milky tea, that was however veiy refreshing in the 
 scorching sun. After eating my bread and meat and bidding the 
 courteous Mir Sahib good-bye, I got on a horse belonging to one 
 of the police, and, accompanied by a mounted trooper, rode across 
 the frontier, that invisible line which is always coloured so prettily 
 on the maps. 
 
 The road lies up the bed of a river, which in this case was not 
 much more stony than the surrounding hills. The valley is quite 
 narrow and flat-bottomed, absolutely barren except in some corners 
 near the widely scattered villages, where a field or two is irrigated 
 with water from some invisible source. 
 
 The Kohat Pass has lost its value since the railway has been 
 made from IJawal Pindi to Khiishalgarh on the banks of the Indus. 
 Pindi has thus replaced Peshawur as the base of Kohat, and the 
 pass is now only occasionally used by travellers as a means of 
 communication between the two districts. Much the same style 
 of affairs exists on this road as on the Khyber. The Jowakis and 
 Adam Khels loot, rob, and murder all round, but, as they put it, 
 " Sarah zidrat dai " — the road is a sanctuary — and they are left to 
 their own devices as long as nothing happens to disturb its 
 inviolability. The usual promenades have been made from time to 
 time over their detestable hills, a few villages burnt and towers 
 blown up, in poor satisfaction for their accumulated sins, and then 
 things settle down for another spell of quietness. 
 
 It is perhaps too hard to judge these wild Afridis by Western 
 standards. Their country is so poor that they cannot live at peace 
 and multiply. Their scanty sustenance is eked out by what they 
 can loot from the traveller or from a neighbour a trifle better off 
 than themselves, and this, instead of being a crime in their eyes, is to 
 them an honourable and, indeed, almost the only profession open to 
 them. The morality of it, after all, is quite as high as that of the 
 successful stock-jobber who picks the pocket of his less wide-awake
 
 1 
 
 
 LOOKING DOWN THE KHYBER PASS FROM ALI MASJID
 
 CHAP. I THE KOHAT PASS 167 
 
 opponent, for the Afri'di is at any rate prepared to risk his life in 
 the process. These Pathans have their good qnahties, too, as well as 
 their bad. They are hospitable to a degree, and are a cheerful and 
 happy people whose lot is, as the world goes, a hard enough one. 
 
 One meets but few human beings as one rides along over the 
 rough stones at a walking pace, and the miles grow longer and 
 longer under the burning midday sun, which is here shut in by the 
 steep and stony hills. The villages, being built of the rough round 
 boulders which are scattered everywhere over the country, would 
 scarcely be noticed were it not for the towers which ornament 
 as well as defend them ; and it was with great pleasure that I 
 came upon Khani Ghari, the " half-way house," where I changed 
 my guard for another. The people of the village, wild, dirty -looking 
 ruffians, came out and hospitably offered me shelter and milk, but 
 my conversation with them was limited, as they understood no 
 Hindustani and their Pushtu was worse than Greek to me. It is 
 impossible to look at these tribes without thinking of their alleged 
 Jewish connection. An interesting story tells that the Afghans 
 themselves trace their descent from Sarul (Saul), the son of Kais 
 (Kish), of the tribe Ibn Yami'n (Benjamin). Their accounts of 
 Sarul's doings are very much what we know of Saul from the 
 Bible. Such stories as his search for his father's asses, his visit to 
 the witch at Endor, occur in their ancient books. According to 
 their account Sariil had two sons, Barakiah and Iramia (Jeremiah), 
 both of whom were born in the same hour of different mothers, but 
 both of the tribe of Lawi (Levi). After Sariil's death on tlie battle- 
 field, Barakiah and Iramia succeeded to high honours under iJaud 
 (David). Barakiah had a son named Assaf, and Iramia one called 
 Afghana, and these two flourished during the reign of Suleman 
 (Solomon). It was Afghana who superintended the building of the 
 Bait-ul-Mukadas, or Temple of Jerusalem; and when the latter was 
 sacked by Bakhtun-nasr (Nebuchadnezzar), the numerous tribe 
 of Afghana was driven from Sham (Palestine), took refuge in 
 Kohistan, and centuries later spread eastward over Afghanistan.
 
 168 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 It is supposed also that the tribes about the Khyber were the last 
 to resist the spread of Mohammedanism from the west, for a well- 
 known Afghan couplet, after extolling the virtues of Umr, Osman, 
 and Ali, concludes with the words : " Whoever denies one of these 
 is much worse than the bear, the pig, and the Jew of the Khyber." ^ 
 
 The physical appearance of these people, too, strangely accords 
 with our Jewish type as found in Galicia. They have also many 
 old customs that the Jews had, notably the sending away of a 
 scapegoat or calf in times of severe pestilence into the desert after 
 the mullahs have laid their hands on its head.^ Also the customs 
 of punishment by death from stoning, dividing land by lot, the 
 necessity of the younger brother marrying the widow of his elder 
 brother, prevail among them. 
 
 It is more probable, however, that after the Captivity the ten 
 tribes were planted by their conquerors as far away on the eastern 
 borders of Persia as possible, and that here they came into contact 
 with the Duranis, who are the pure Afghans, and who were, at 
 that time, nomads. Possibly the aristocracy of these nomads 
 intermarried with the Jews, and so derived their traditions, for 
 physically the type of the Durdni most nearly resembles the Jew 
 as found in Palestine at the present day. The Pushtii language, 
 again, bears no trace of any Semitic dialect whatever, and there is 
 no doubt that many of the customs of these Pathan tribes are 
 strongly defined as purely Aryan. So that whatever the composi- 
 tion of their blood may be, it without doubt contains a large pro- 
 portion of Aryan element. 
 
 The sun was beginning to get low before any change came to 
 my trooper and myself as we rode alone along this stony winding 
 valley, and my chief food for reflection at any unusually large 
 boulder was, " I wonder how Nainu will get past that." At last 
 the road suddenly leaves the river-bed, and turning sharp to the 
 left, zigzags up a short steep rise to the top of the pass, from 
 where, immediately Ixdow, the basin of Kohat is seen, the small 
 1 Dr. Belle^v. - James' Report.
 
 CHAP. I KOHAT AT LAST 169 
 
 station planted in the middle, nestling prettily in its bower of 
 green trees. A steep winding path down and a quick gallop a 
 couple of miles over the flat, to stretch my stiffened legs, brought 
 me into the straggling little station, where the bugles of the 
 Punjab Infantry there quartered gave a friendly welcome, and that 
 excellent institution, the Government Dak Bungalow, soon sheltered 
 my weary person from a storm that now swept down from the hills. 
 
 I had time to stroll out to make my arrangements for the morrow 
 hj going to the civil officer of the station, who delegated my needs 
 to his chaprassi, who passed them on to the ekha chaudri, who 
 ordered two ekhas to take me to Hangu the next day. Truly this 
 is a country of middlemen, 
 
 Hangu, I learnt, was twenty-six miles off, so the two ekhas 
 were to stay the night with me at the Dak Bungalow there, and 
 take me on the thirty-eight miles farther to Thull next day, A 
 good meal of " muttin charp and kdrhi bath " brought a long day 
 to an end, and just as I was getting into bed at ten o'clock, I 
 heard, to my surprise, shouting and the jingling of ekhas outside. 
 " Ohe Nainud, is that you ? " and as I looked out into the dark 
 night, there actually were my three ekhas ! How they got there, 
 to this day I do not know. ISTainu told me that all the ekhas 
 had to be unloaded four times, and the baggage carried on the 
 men's backs, in order to get them over the worst places ; and as 
 he remarked, " O Protector of the Poor, the roads in this country 
 are very bad," I did not venture to contradict him, but gave him 
 a cake of tobacco and told him to get to sleep, which I fancy he 
 speedily did, with true Eastern philosophy. 
 
 The ekhas for this journey of sixteen hoiirs over the worst 
 imaginable road, or rather track, got 6 rupees 4 annas (about 7 
 shillings) each, and the drivers went away happy. 
 
 Next morning I was away early, for I heard that the lieutenant- 
 governor was about to arrive, and when the gods come down upon 
 earth, we poor mortals are apt to fare badly. So it was witli a 
 light heart that I escaped from Kohat with a jingling ekha under
 
 170 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 me, to the sound of the booming of guns which announced the 
 great man's entry at the other end of the station. 
 
 When on the frontier one does so much ekha-driving, that a 
 few of the merits and demerits of this wonderful production of the 
 East may here find a place. First, then, the only merit it has is, 
 that it cannot come to grief — for the reason that it is entirely 
 made of pieces of wood, tied together with rope and string, and 
 any breakage only requires a fresh piece of string to tie it together 
 again. It is difficult to know which demerit to begin with, for as 
 the miles pass by they seem to multiply so rapidly. At the start 
 you don't notice that there are no springs, for the sweeper has just 
 been along the mall, and has carefully swept off every pebble. It 
 is true that it strikes you as rather a poor arrangement to have to 
 stretch out your legs flat along the bamboo shaft beside the driver, 
 who occupies rather a prominent position almost in your lap, but 
 there is no help for it, unless native-wise you like to sit on them. 
 Also the inordinate number of pillows and supports that are 
 required to prop up your back are certainly rather a trouble to 
 arrange, but after all they keep their place as long as you sit still. 
 So we fly out of the station exhilarated by the quick trotting and 
 in the happiest frame of mind. But the lazy sweeper, confound 
 him ! has not continued his efforts to any great distance, and 
 the rude bump over the first stone reminds you that there are 
 no springs to the cart, the second, immediately after, disturbs the 
 carefully arranged pillows, while a third causes the back of the ekha 
 inconsiderately to knock your helmet over your eyes. However 
 it is as well to be good-humoured, and the difficulty is easily 
 remedied by taking off" your helmet and putting on a cap. The 
 pillows then being rearranged, a fresh start is made. After a few 
 minutes you begin to realise that you have been sitting for half an 
 hour on a flat seat with your legs stretched straight out on a level. 
 You draw them up and sit with your knees in your mouth, but in 
 doing so the pillows become loosened, and again show a wish to 
 fall out of the ekha. After carefully rearranging these as well as
 
 CHAP. I 
 
 THE ORIENTAL EKHA 
 
 171 
 
 the bumping and jolting ekha will allow, the brilliant sun begins to 
 beat down on your head, and you think of putting on your helmet 
 again, but find that in this position there is no room for it under 
 the covering of the ekha ; and so you move to readjust yourself, 
 and one of the pillows falls out on to the dusty road, and has to be 
 recovered by the driver, while tliere is a pause for bad language. 
 
 A FRONTIER JOURNEY 
 
 About midday you begin to cease to take any interest in your 
 surroundings, and your attention is fixed on clutching the pillows, 
 water-bottle, revolver, helmet, and other accessories of travel, while 
 you are tossed about in the ekha box like a schoolboy in a blanket ;. 
 and just as you are beginning to grow used even to this pleasing 
 motion, an extra big stone bumps you up in the air again, and your 
 head comes into violent contact with the wooden bars of the ekha 
 covering ! 
 
 And yet one survives it all and drives into Hangu alive.
 
 172 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 though not perhaps in love and charity with all men, least of 
 all the man who invented ekhas. 
 
 The road was along the frontier up a pretty cultivated valley 
 now green with patches of wheat, irrigated from the stream. The 
 big, brown, stony Samana Eange is close by on your right, and low, 
 but equally stony, hills shut in the left, but there is nothing 
 especially remarkable in the monotonous drive except that the 
 road is fairly good. Hangu has derived some fictitious interest 
 by having been the base of operations m the last Samana-Miranzai 
 expedition. "When not serving for this useful purpose, it consists of 
 a Dak Bungalow, a tidy little square stone battlemented and loop- 
 holed fort, inside of which is the treasury, the jail khana full of 
 villainous -looking marauders, and the Assistant Commissioner's 
 office ; for Hangu is the summer residence of that official, whose 
 winters are spent in a still more exciting place called Thull. 
 
 One cannot but feel struck again by the work done by these 
 young Assistant Commissioners. Young boys straight from an 
 English public school, with only the stamp of the Indian Civil 
 Service examination upon them to distinguish them from their 
 fellows, are sent out to India, and after but a few years' experience, 
 find themselves on the frontier, in some such place as Hangu or 
 ThuU. Here they practically have the burden of the Empire on 
 their backs, for they are responsible, in the first instance, for the 
 peace and welfare of perhaps the most inflammable border of the 
 whole of the Queen's dominions. 
 
 It is true that some sixty miles off this solitary boy can fall 
 back upon his Deputy Commissioner, but in practice the peace 
 and order, progress and advancement of an area perhaps as large 
 as Yorkshire, depend upon the energy and abihty, the tact and 
 savoir /aire of this boy. In a great measure his word is law. 
 Taking his line from his chief, the Deputy Commissioner, he carries 
 out his ideas with a freedom and power that no other profession 
 can offer. He combines in himself all the lower administrative 
 and judicial functions, except where the cases are too serious ; these
 
 CHAP. I THE SUPPORTERS OF THE EMPIRE 173 
 
 he refers to his chief. He is in practice engineer-in-chief, road- 
 maker, educational inspector, policeman and Minister for Foreign 
 Affairs. He is a small emperor, in fact, whose subjects are a wild 
 and but half-tamed lot, and whose neighbours across the border are 
 ever on the watch to catch him tripping. But by his tact, and 
 above all his personality, this boy makes his influence everywhere 
 felt, and spreads the light that, one is proud to feel, can shine out 
 of an Englishman's face. 
 
 His solitary life can hardly be pictured. For two or three 
 years he will be alone at Thull and Hangu, amidst a waste of 
 barren stones, which are baked to fire heat by the summer sun, 
 and chilled by winter frosts. Scarcely ever does he see a white 
 face, except for a day or two's run to Kohat, a small garrison town 
 some sixty miles off, which to him is a reminder that " England, 
 home and beauty " do still exist, somewhere in the far-off distance. 
 
 It is his work, however, and above all, the responsibility that 
 makes him feel a pride in the visible success of his work, that 
 keep him going ; and the consciousness that he is the only white 
 face among all his darker surroundings gives him a standard below 
 which he feels he cannot afford to fall. 
 
 It is to the credit of the English name that, among the many 
 boys who are sent out to India to fight our battles of peace 
 there, so few fall below what is expected of them. That India is 
 the brightest jewel in our Queen's crown is surely in a great 
 measure due to her 1100 Indian Civil Servants, who control the 
 welfare and destinies of her 260,000,000 duslvy subjects. 
 
 And yet we are told that all men are equal ! I could only wish 
 for the exponent of this plausible doctrine a year's residence in 
 Thull, where his surroundings would speedily convince him that 
 Superiority and Inferiority are the upper and nether millstones 
 between which his Equality would soon be ground to powder. 
 
 Away again next morning from Hangu — for twelve hours at 
 Hangu is enough for us who are not Assistant Commissioners — 
 and along the wide, open, treeless valley ; the same features as
 
 174 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 yesterday, only with less cultivation. Not more than three or 
 four villages are seen in the whole of the thirty-eight miles' drive, 
 and the passers-by on the road are few and far between. Now 
 and again a rough-looking peasant is seen scratching the ground 
 with his primitive wooden plough, drawn by a pair of small and 
 stunted black bullocks ; but otherwise there is little of interest 
 and little to be seen. 
 
 At one little walled village on the road we stopped to feed the 
 ponies, and I was soon surrounded by a crowd of village urchins 
 and urchinesses, who were made supremely happy by some handfuls 
 of Huntley and Palmer's mixed biscuits, a tin of which I had open 
 in the ekha ; while the empty tin itself, with its coloured label, no 
 doubt now adorns the " drawing-room mantelpiece," as a work of 
 beauty and art, in the mud house of the headman of Surozai village. 
 
 Thull appeared to retreat as fast as we advanced, and the journey 
 seemed endless and the bumps infinite over the stony track, until 
 at last we were rattling down a long straight clearing on the stony 
 and scrubby slope, which the driver told me was the avenue 
 approach to Thull. At last the little mud fort came into sight, 
 and though it figures always in such beautiful big print on the maps 
 of India, the whole of it could be conveniently put into a corner of 
 Trafalgar Square without in any way inconveniencing the traffic. 
 However, these were gala days for Thull ; for our relations with our 
 neighbours being strained, a whole company of native infantry was 
 encamped at its gate, so that there was much coming and going. 
 The fort inside is not more imposing than outside ; a line of little 
 huts for some 100 men of a native infantry regiment, and an office 
 or two and small detached quarters for the Assistant Commissioner 
 when there, filled the whole area. One or two wretched saplings 
 ill requited the care spent upon them in trying to make them 
 grow ; and the native sentry at the gate stood apathetically on 
 guard over this important piece of Government property. 
 
 Thull e^^.dently owes its greatness not to itself but to its 
 position. Though we nominally took over this country after the
 
 CHAP. I ARRIVAL AT BILANDKHEL 175 
 
 Sikh wars in 1848, yet we never administered it in any way until 
 1878, when during the last Afghan war a road was made from 
 Kohat to Thull. Since then, lying as it does just at the mouth 
 of the Kuram valley, Thull has had an importance thrust upon it ; 
 for though you scarcely notice it, across the wide stony river-bed 
 from the fort an unusual collection of stones indicates the presence 
 of the city of Thull, the county town of the Kuram Turis. This 
 poor-looking village is one of the chief Turi towns, for being at the 
 mouth of their valley, all their communications with the outer 
 world must pass through it. 
 
 At the fort I found an orderly and some ponies waiting for 
 me, with a message from Merk to tell me to come on a further 
 four miles down the main valley to Bilandkhel camp. Accordingly 
 after getting directions from the orderly — whom I left to bring on 
 Nainu and my baggage, whose ekha had lagged behind — I mounted 
 and rode down alone to the ford across the Kuram river, which 
 here flows out of the Kuram valley, a rapid, tumbling mountain 
 stream some forty yards across at the ford. 
 
 Following a track down the open valley, which is sparsely 
 covered with thorny bushes, I soon came to a straiglit and cleared 
 track, at the end of which I could see the long white line of the 
 tents of the camp. 
 
 The sun was getting low as I cantered towards the camp, and 
 on meeting Merk and Colonel Brownlow of the 1st Punjab In- 
 fantry, who were walking towards me, I was greeted with the truly 
 British welcome of " What the devil are you doing here witliout 
 a guard ? " from my anxious friend, who was responsible for my 
 safety ! The llict was that I had left British territory behind in 
 crossing the Kuram river, and as a Havildar of the mountain 
 battery had been cut up a few evenings previously on this bit of 
 road, strict orders had been given that no one was to leave camp 
 without a guard. I was, however, soon forgiven my sins in the 
 kindly welcome I received from all, and Avas duly installed again 
 in the comforts of a " Kabul tent."
 
 176 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 Darkness falls apace in this country of no twilight, and as I 
 stood quietly at my tent door that evening, the charm of the 
 novelty and the poetry of the surroundings stole over me. The 
 stars shine brilliantly down on the camp out of the black sky 
 overhead. The cavalry trumpets sound out clear in the still night 
 air. The bagpipes of the 1st Punjab Infantry are playing before 
 the mess tent. The rows of cavalry horses and transport mules 
 are munching away at their grass. The fires of the pickets on 
 the hill above shine down their protection upon us ; while nearer 
 the sentries' tramp is heard steadily pacing up and down the 
 thorn hedge, which surrounds the whole camp. Far away up 
 the valley the signal lamp on Thull fort is flashing its messages 
 through the darkness to us, almost as quickly as one could speak, 
 and forming a thread, as it were, in our communications with India, 
 with Europe, with England, and with home, along which one's 
 thoughts fly from out of this strange new world to those one cares 
 for so far away.
 
 CHAPTEE II 
 
 The presence of the camp at Bilandkhel was due to one of those 
 moves in the political game of chess that is continually being played 
 upon the frontier. Moves and countermoves are carried out with 
 such skill on both sides that an intimate knowledge of the methods 
 of the game is necessary to the onlooker, if he wishes to follow 
 the process with any degree of intelligence. It is far beyond the 
 scope of these pages to enter into such considerations. Suffice it 
 to say, that the lane from Kohat to the top of the Kurani valley is 
 a long and narrow one, in which there is a sharp turning just 
 where Thull is situated. 
 
 The mud village of Bilandkhel, which lies a few miles off just 
 at this spot, though outwardly innocent and unpretending, is 
 locally somewhat important as the gathering -place of the many 
 discordant elements in the neighbourhood, and on this occasion, 
 owing no doubt to the thunder in the air, it began to fester. Those 
 turbulent rascals the Wazi'rs, encouraged secretly by their more 
 powerful friends at a distance, pushed themselves forward to such 
 a degree, that it was found necessary on our side to apply a 
 poultice to the spot in the shape of a small force of all arms, 
 to soothe the inflammation. That the political officer in charge 
 was a Hakim as well as a Hakim, was proved by the success 
 of the treatment ; for after sitting quietly there for three months, 
 the camp eventually withdrew, with no further complications 
 than a few shots fired and the loss of the doctor's bottle of 
 ink, which was stolen by one of the marauders of the country. 
 
 N
 
 178 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ir 
 
 Even this insult was avenged by the exaction of a fine of Es. 70 
 from the offender's family ; and as the thief, imagining a bottle 
 stolen from the doctor's tent must be medicine, had drunk it to 
 ward off future illnesses, he was considered to have sufficiently 
 expiated his crime. 
 
 It is a new experience for a civilian to find himself in a camp 
 on active service, and there is a seriousness about it that gives a 
 raison d'Stre to the order and precision that reign everywhere. 
 The even rows of white tents, the straight lines of picketed horses, 
 the wide, level, cleared roads, all give you the impression that 
 within everything is in its place, ready to be utilised any moment 
 it may be required. The thick thorn hedge that has been piled 
 up round the camp, at the openings in which the sentries pace up 
 and down, gives a secure as well as a tidy look to the whole ; while 
 the pickets on the hills round form an outer fringe of protection 
 which afford you, as it were, a little breathing space, and take 
 away the confined feeling that a small camp is apt to convey. 
 
 The force at Bilandkhel was half of the Kurani escort of Mr. W. 
 Merk, C.S.I., chief political officer detailed to Kuram, and consisted 
 of tlie 1st Punjab Infantry under Colonel Brownlow, one squadron 
 of the 5th Punjab Cavalry, and two guns of the Peshawur mountain 
 battery under Captain F. Birch, the whole under the command of 
 •Colonel Turner, C.B. These all Ijelong to the celebrated Punjab 
 Frontier Force — the P.F.F., or " l*iff'ers," as they are called in the 
 vulgar tongue. This force is another reminder of how much bigger 
 " India " used to be before the days of railways, for it is a special 
 force, raised in 1849, of ten infantry, five cavalry regiments, and 
 four mule mountain batteries of six guns each ; these, wdth the 
 small mixed force of " Guides," were detailed under their own 
 general (and until 1886, under the direct orders of the Lieutenant- 
 Governor of the Punjab) to guard the north-west frontier from 
 Kashmir to Sind. Though the railway has now brought them 
 under the orders of the Commander-in-Chief, they, with the j)ride of 
 their past distinguished service behind them, are jealous of their
 
 k 
 
 i
 
 CHAP. II THE PUNJAB FRONTIER FORGE 179 
 
 individuality, and are still kept to their special work. Their head- 
 quarters are dotted at even distances all down the frontier from 
 north to south — Abbottabad, Hoti ]\Iurdan, Kohat, Bannu, Dera 
 Ismail Khan, Dera Ghazi Khan, and Eajanpur ; while the very fron- 
 tier itself, which as a rule runs along- the foot of the hills, is watched 
 by outposts from these headquarters, generally some fifty men 
 under a native officer. The native officers by this means acquire 
 the necessary self-reliance by being put in these independent com- 
 mands, where they have to use their own judgment and tact. 
 Each regiment is complete with its own transport, and is ready 
 to move, literally at a moment's notice, either to meet a border raid 
 of the tribes, or to go on active service across the frontier. 
 
 The Punjab Frontier Force is in a way a picked force, whose 
 readiness and elasticity make them specially fitted for the rough 
 work of all sorts that falls to their lot, as their long and brilliant 
 record of service testifies. At the same time their work is hard 
 and trying. Excepting Abbottabad, which is a small sub-hill- 
 station, the other headquarters are mostly dry and dreary spots 
 enough, long distances away in a wild, lonely, and barren country, 
 where the heat in summer burns with a fire that almost makes the 
 stones red-hot, and where life is interesting chiefly from its hard 
 work and freedom, in a country wliich is far more like Central 
 Asia than the India of our imagination. 
 
 I was most kindly received by the officers in camp, and soon 
 fell into the routine of camp life. Every one was busy all the 
 morning at their work. The cavalry were out raising the dust on 
 a piece of open ground on one side of the camp, while the long line 
 of infantry went through their evolutions on the other. Inside 
 camp one could roam about as one pleased through the long lines 
 of tents, and I mostly spent my mornings taking photographs of 
 some of the men — fine, big, strapping sepoys, who were as eager as 
 children to have their pictures taken. Then my wanderings would 
 take me round to our corner of the camp, where Merk, the political 
 officer, sits enthroned on an old camp chair at the door of liis tent.
 
 180 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ri 
 
 In front of him is spread a large Persian carpet, on which sit, 
 all huddled together in the blazing sun, a number of wild-looking 
 ruffians, maybe a Jirga, an assembly of leading men of one of 
 the tribes, come down from the hills to discuss the future with 
 him. 
 
 The principal men sit in front, the less influential crowding 
 round the outskirts ; but in truth, to an unaccustomed eye, there is 
 not much to choose between them, either for beauty or squalor, wild- 
 ness or evil looks. Dressed in sober-coloured cotton and woollen 
 coats with loose trousers, the dirt on which has made them much 
 the colour of the earth they sit on, with aquiline noses and deep- 
 set hawk-hke eyes, their unkempt shaggy brown beards set oft' by 
 their large dull-coloured pagris, any one of them would make as 
 good a villain in the play as no doubt he is in earnest on his 
 native heath. Yet there is a certain dignity of manner about them. 
 One feels they are at any rate men, and that, according to their 
 own lights, there are even certain refinements of blood amongst 
 the front rows. 
 
 " Salam, sakim aleikum," comes from their guttural voices as 
 they approach the tent door. " Peace to you. Sahib ; are you well ? 
 are you fresh ? is your health good ? " 
 
 " Be seated, well-born ones. May you too prosper ; you 
 are welcome here." After these polite inquiries business is com- 
 menced, both sides as a rule making long speeches and arriving 
 slowly and with dignity at their different points. 
 
 " See here now, Sahib, what can we do ? The Sirkar says 
 that we are no longer to levy tolls, as we have ever done on passers 
 up and down the valley. How can we live ? We are a poor Ijut 
 free people ; what will you do for us ? " 
 
 " Why should we do anything for you, my friends ; how are we 
 beholden to you ? You have raided and robl^ed, and much innocent 
 blood has been shed. You know that the Sirkar will not allow 
 this. Still, if for the future you cease this raiding, I will perhaps 
 ask the Sirkar to give you the same grants they did in compensa-
 
 
 
 mfn 
 
 
 " '• f i '"' ■■'■ - ! 
 ■'•"' '^ ''' 1 '
 
 CHAP. II PEACE OR JVAE—A JIRGA I 181 
 
 tion during the last war with the Aim'r of Kabul. What say you 
 to this, men of sense ? " 
 
 " Oh no," shouts some wild blood from the back rows, " what 
 satisfied us then won't content us now ; we are free to do as we like 
 and will fight for our rights." And as they all sit there eagerly 
 leaning forward, some thirty or forty of them, each grasping his long 
 rifle in his hand, they look wild and ready enough for mischief. 
 
 " All right," answers Merk, laughing, " we are quite ready and 
 will be only too glad to fight you ; you see, we have nothing else to 
 do here ! There are the regiments, there are the little guns, go and 
 take a good look at them yourselves ! " For a few moments their 
 wild eyes flash angrily, and heated words betoken the coining storm, 
 until j\Ierk breaks in. 
 
 " Stop now, greybeards and nobly-born ones, cease this 
 child's talk and be men. See we are both at the bottom of the well 
 together : you cannot get away from us nor we from you. If you 
 want to fight, please yourselves and your blood be upon your heads, 
 but remember that the man who lights a fire against his own walls 
 must not be surprised if his house is burnt down ; and you know too 
 your saying that ' it is not well to sit down to eat corn-stalks in 
 company with an elephant.' Be sensible, then, and take what the 
 Sirkar may offer you." 
 
 After much talking they rise and troop off to a solitary tree 
 outside the camp, under whose scanty shade from the blazing sun 
 they sit all the afternoon discussing the matter ; the young ones 
 of course wishing to run the risks, while the old ones counsel 
 prudence. In the evening they return and the Jirga is resumed. 
 Each man has his say in this open democratic assembly, any one 
 at the back chiming in with what he considers an opportune 
 word. Now the conversation is excited. Now there is a general 
 laugh as Merk chaffs one who has put in his word with more 
 eagerness than logic ; for he is fluent enough in their Pushtu 
 language to be quite a match for them in the proverbs and similes 
 they so dearly love.
 
 182 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part it 
 
 In the end they agree, and part with expressions of goodwill, 
 the ceremony winding up with a sudden and reverent hush as 
 they bow their heads and mutter a few words in prayer for a 
 blessing on the interview. Then as they all disappear, the chief 
 one, an old fellow with an evil countenance and long black beard, 
 dyed red in places, comes back to the tent and squats on the 
 ground beside Merk's chair. With anxious glances at me, as I sit 
 on the bed, he whispers what he considers his secret remarks 
 about the interview and its probable consequences. 
 
 The whole scene is typical of this country where all men are 
 unequal — the wild number of excital^le Easterns, each grasping 
 his rifle and ready to spill blood like water; the single Western 
 sitting before them in his cricketing flannels, laughing and 
 smoking his cigarettes, with never a pistol or guard at his side, 
 but quite conscious all the time that he is the better man. 
 
 The mess bugle brought us all together again at lunch, the total 
 number, including the colonel commanding and the whole of his 
 "brilliant staff'," being fourteen, of whom four, belonging to the 
 cavalry and artillery, had a separate mess, a tent pitched some fifty 
 yards off — an excellent arrangement which enabled you to have the 
 pleasure of " dining out " even at Bilandkhel. There was little 
 to do in the afternoons, for the sun was hot, and it required some 
 of the sportsman's energy to walk down the stony valley followed 
 by a guard of a couple of sepoys, on the chance of getting a stray 
 shot at a chikor partridge as he rose oft" the barren ground. Our 
 usual occupation was to take a constitutional along the straight 
 cleared path towards Thull, to the picket of four men of the 5th 
 Punji'ib Cavalry, who stood picturesquely beside their horses all day 
 long, guarding the road since the killing of the artillery havildar. 
 This promenade of three miles, followed as we were solemnly by our 
 guard, was a truly monotonous proceeding, in which we met and greeted 
 other couples on a like errand, as if we had not seen them for ages. 
 
 One afternoon we walked through the village of Bilandkhel. 
 Entering through a hole in the wall under one of the many towers.
 
 CHAP. 11 FOOTBALL IN CAMP 183 
 
 we wandered down some dirty lanes only a few feet wide, for wheeled 
 traffic is of course unknown in the country. Shut in by rough walls 
 of mud and stone, one sees little or nothing ; occasionally an open 
 door gives one a glimpse into a dirty yard where the ground is 
 pounded into mud by a lean bullock or two. Everything is of the 
 poorest description. The dwelling-rooms are little better than clean- 
 swept mud sheds, and there is a total absence of architecture. Only 
 in one spot did we come across any signs of life, and that was an 
 open space where a few Hindus displayed some articles for sale in 
 several tumble-down-looking sheds. Here the garrison of some 
 fifty men of the 1st Punjab Infantry who had been detailed to 
 hold the village were to be found, mostly off duty, and conse- 
 quently without uniforms. We picked our way back through the 
 mud and dirt, and were glad to get ovit of such unsavoury quarters. 
 
 Coming back to camp there was always the football to watch, 
 for the Sikhs are great players, and both at Sangina camp up the 
 valley and here football was played with great zest nearly every 
 afternoon on the parade-ground, both by the younger European 
 officers and by the Sikhs. Surely no better training could be had 
 for faithfulness in a tight corner, in time of need, than the friendly 
 rivalry and tussle between officers and men before a goal. Loud 
 were the cries of "Shabash,shabash,chowkidar!" ("Well done,w%atch- 
 nian ! ") from the excited onlookers all round the ground, as the 
 goal-keeper successfully met the rush of the eager subaltern and 
 kicked the ball away. 
 
 The Sikhs and Pathans are about equal in numbers in these 
 regiments, and each have their good and bad qualities. Both 
 are fine, tall, well-built men, the Sikh perhaps the more powerful 
 of the two, while tlie Pathan has greater physical endurance and 
 agility. The Sikhs have very pleasant and handsome faces, rather 
 round in shape, with small well-cut noses. Their custom of never 
 cutting their beards, but twisting them up instead in a neat black 
 roll on either cheek, gives them a smart and soldierly appearance. 
 In character they are often almost bovine in their stupidity.
 
 184 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 Being all of the yeoman class and dwellers in the plains, they are 
 full of sturdy self-respect, resolute, obedient, and always under 
 control. Their lighting qualities are too well known to need 
 comment, and arise no doubt from their solid and steady courage 
 and their contempt for death ; but they are wanting in the initiative 
 and dash that go to make up a perfect soldier. They have 
 cheerful and agreeable natures, and nothing could have been more 
 pleasant and well-bred than the manners of the Sikh native officers 
 I met, most of whom had been promoted from the ranks. They 
 struck me as being very like Italians in their unselfconscious, 
 respectful bearing, which made one's intercourse with them at once 
 easy and unconstrained. They were like children in their delight 
 at having their photographs taken ; and when I met some of them 
 again, some months later, at a railway-station far off in India, 
 they rushed up to me with warm greetings, and were full of 
 regrets that when their pictures were taken in Kuram, owing to 
 their being on active service, they had not with them the smart 
 black-leather, silver-mounted cross-belts which they then wore! 
 Nice, simple, outspoken fellows, as naive and as vain as children, 
 and as brave as lions in a scrimmage, what better type can one 
 get for a soldier ? 
 
 The Pathans, on the other hand, are highlanders whose training 
 and traditions have been totally different. 
 
 Bred in their wild stony mountains under the fanatical in- 
 fluence of Mohammedanism, they are very impatient of all control 
 from their own people ; but when they take service with us they 
 fight well even against their own tribesmen in time of war, though 
 they find it much harder to submit to the bonds of discipline when 
 encamped in peace-time at the foot of their own hills. They are 
 very intelligent as a whole, but are consumed with intense arro- 
 gance and vanity, and are bloodthirsty to a degree that often 
 amounts to homicidal mania. Though liable from sudden panics 
 to lose their heads, when excited they are recklessly brave and 
 fight with great dan. Against these somewhat numerous bad
 
 CHAP. II SIKHS AND PATHANS 185 
 
 qualities must be set their physical and mental energy, their 
 cheerfulness, their great personal loyalty to those to whom they 
 have given their allegiance and friendship. They are excellent 
 marksmen and born skirmishers, and for a successful dash, especi- 
 ally in their own wild mountains, they are almost unequalled. 
 
 The Sikh indulges in a hearty contempt for the Pathan — a 
 feeling which the latter as warmly reciprocates ; but they get along 
 very well together in their different companies of the regiment, 
 and class quarrels very rarely occur. The comparison of the Sikhs 
 to the Germans and the Pathans to the French is not altogether 
 an ill-suited one, and socially it is much easier for the English 
 officer to mix with the former than the latter. For the Sikhs and 
 ourselves have a common love for games and athletics, whereas 
 the Pathan takes no part in either, and looks upon the Sikhs and 
 Punjabis who appear in a semi-nude condition at these competitions 
 as men utterly without shame and honour. 
 
 Our evenings were enlivened by the excellent pipers both of 
 the 1st P.I. and of the mountain battery. Natives take wonderfully 
 kindly to bagpipes, both as performers and listeners. Any High- 
 land regiment might have been proud to possess such excellent 
 performers as the mountain battery had, and it was amusing to see 
 the pride with which these fine fellows strutted up and down to 
 the time of their inspiriting music. Most of the airs they played 
 were Scotch, but now and tlien the popular frontier inarch of 
 " Zakhmi" issued somewhat weirdly from the pipes.^ This Peshawur 
 mountain battery is indeed a credit to its commander, Captain 
 F. Birch, RA., who is well known for the pride he takes in 
 his men. All liuge fellows, mostly Punjabi Mussulmans, it was 
 always an interesting sight to watch them march out to practice. 
 The battery here on active service was turned out as spick-and- 
 
 ^ This well-known march is of Pathan origin, and was composed by a celebrated 
 musician named Miro. The words "Zakhmi pa gham kkhenast yam," etc. 
 ("Wounded with grief I sit, pierced by the dagger of love," etc.) convey sentiments 
 that are not confined solely to the East.
 
 186 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 i^ '^i S' ?">, >v~(.'^ ^' 
 
 ■4'*>**=, 
 
 W^ i f I ■■' • 
 
 span as for a general's inspection. The mules (a relief set always 
 
 accompany the gun -carriers) are fine 
 ^t'-^ I? (4^; -.^.^ ^^^ big animals, sleek and fat yet in excel- 
 
 lent condition for scrambling down the 
 stony ravines and up banks which try 
 severely the wind and limb of their 
 two-legged leaders. 
 
 They are armed with the long 
 muzzle -loading gun, which, in order 
 to lessen the load for each mule, is 
 made in two parts that screw together, 
 the wheels, trail, and axles being carried 
 on the backs of three more. At the 
 word of command, in less tune than it 
 takes to write it down, with a sudden 
 clatter the mules are relieved of their 
 burdens, the disjointed pieces of the 
 i guns and gun-carriages seem to fall 
 together, and the row of long, fierce- 
 , looking little pieces are ready to send 
 ! their shells off" with an accuracy that 
 the frontier tribes by experience know 
 only too well. A deputation of one of 
 the tribes even came one day into our 
 camp to beg the loan of a few shots 
 against their enemy, offering 150 rupees 
 for each shot that we would fire for 
 them ; while the gunners themselves 
 almost venerate the cannon in their 
 devotion to them, one native officer 
 coming out regularly every morning 
 to saliim to them and pat them affec- 
 tionately as his children as they 
 stood in a row before the guard !
 
 1 '■ ■ *^' w^
 
 CHAP. II A FALSE ALARM 187 
 
 The incidents in a camp in an enemy's country where there 
 are no enemies, are few and far between, and one is grateful for 
 excitement of any kind. One night as we sat at dinner in the 
 mess tent, our eyes dazzled by the brightness of the row of 
 kerosene lamps that stood on the table before us, a noise of gallop- 
 ing horses almost like thunder, mingled with the shouts of men, 
 suddenly broke out, and we all started to our feet. In the 
 momentary pause of expectation one of the youngsters called out 
 " An attack ! " and in an incredibly short time we were all outside ! 
 Blmded by the glare of light inside the tent, I stood for the 
 first moment in utter darkness, wondering how long it would be 
 before the expected Afghan knife was buried up to its hilt in 
 my unresisting body ! I cannot say that I felt like Casablanca, 
 or that any equally noble sentiments crossed my mind ; I only 
 thought it was confoundedly dark and wished some one would take 
 the bandage off my eyes ! The noise continued for a minute or 
 two more and then quieted down, and we all returned laughing 
 to our dinner on hearing that a sais had carelessly set fire to the 
 grass in the cavalry lines, and that the horses had taken fright. 
 Luckily they did not break loose, and still more luckily the sentries 
 did not fire, or the whole camp would have been under arms, 
 sending volleys into the hard rocks around. 
 
 That night later, as I lay in my tent, I was awakened by the 
 sentries firing, and I sat up awhile in bed and waited for the 
 development of events, but as nothing further happened, I turned 
 over and went to sleep again. The firing at night was of somewhat 
 frequent occurrence, but in the darkness few of the marauders or 
 marauders' shadows are ever hit. There was an opening in the 
 thorn hedge close by my tent, at which a sentry was posted, who 
 used to cause me some amusement. " Halt ! who go there ? " was 
 invariably his sharp challenge. " Friend." " Pass, friend ; all's 
 well." Then, falling back on his more voluble Hindustani, he 
 continued, " What manner of man are you ? What the devil are 
 you doing here ? "
 
 188 LIGHTS AND SHADES VF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 One soon, however, gets used to the noises in camp at night, 
 and sleeps undisturbedly tlirough some and pays little heed to 
 the others. 
 
 Though the nights were still cold, yet being already the middle 
 of March, the sun burnt fiercely down during the day out of the 
 cloudless Eastern sky ; and the only people who really appreciated 
 his presence were the signallers, who were continually flashing with 
 the heliograph to Gulistan, a post on the Samana range, about thirty 
 miles back towards India. The little mirror on the top of the distant 
 mountain looks like a sparkling diamond, and the native signallers 
 read the messages, repeating the English letters as they come with 
 wonderful rapidity, though of course they don't understand their 
 meaning. A native seems to have no difficulty in learning to imitate 
 anything ; where he fails is in originality of resource. The faithful 
 Nainu too, who masked his crass stupidity by the facility with 
 which he learnt what was shown him, mechanically repeating it, 
 exhibited some of his native character here by never moving out of 
 my tent in camp. Not even the bagpipes or a Khattak dance of 
 the sepoys or the cheers of the football players aroused his curiosity. 
 He was quite happy to sit quietly near his food supplies. When 
 remonstrated with, he simply showed that to him at any rate 
 novelty had no charm. 
 
 As owing to the course of high politics there appeared no 
 chance of the camp being able to move, Merk and I decided to 
 march up the Kuram valley, where he had business to do, and join 
 the remaining half of his escort, who were encamped at Sangina. 
 Preparations did not take long, for on active service everything is 
 always ready for a move. Our baggage was put upon camels, and 
 my precious photographic plates, which had tried every sort of 
 conveyance in India, experienced a new motion in the slow swing 
 of the " ship of the desert." They marched off ahead of us under a 
 guard of sixteen sepoys, with a native non-commissioned officer, 
 and soon were lost to sight in the scrul^by flat stretching up 
 towards Thull.
 
 CHAP. II DEPARTURE FROM BILANBKHEL 189 
 
 Later in the day, in the hot sun, Merk and I rode out of 
 camp with a couple of sowars of the 5th Punjab Cavalry and a 
 guard of several wild-looking ruffians perched upon their shaggy 
 ponies, who were some day to blossom into mounted Turi 
 militiamen.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 A GLANCE at the map at the end of this vokinie will show the 
 position of the Kuram valley better than words can describe it. 
 Roughly, it is a long narrow valley, some eighty miles from end 
 to end, with a sharp bend to the south about half-way down it at 
 Sadda village. The upper half is a more open basin, some five or 
 six miles across, and has on the north side of it the stupendous 
 line of the Safed Koh range, which, shutting it in like a wall, rises 
 to a height of nearly 16,000 feet, or 10,000 feet above the valley 
 itself. The south side of this basin is composed of lower, broken, 
 and stony hills. From Sadda down to Thull, where the Kuram river, 
 so to speak, strikes British territory, the valley is much narrower, 
 and for a few miles above Thull is quite shut in by steep and barren 
 mountains, which give the approach to the valley a desolate appear- 
 ance as well as a dangerous character. 
 
 Our interest in the valley w^as brought about by the fact that 
 it is one of the two roads by which Kabul can be approached from 
 the east. As is well known, it was by this valley that General 
 Roberts advanced on Kabul, and in December 1878 forced 
 the Afghan position at the Peiwar Kotal. After the successful 
 termination of the Afghan War, in spite of our assurances to the 
 Turis to the contrary, the valley was evacuated by British troops, 
 and the Turis were granted the blessings of Home Rule, which 
 was indeed a polite way of getting rid of an obligation that the 
 Government found it inconvenient to carry out.
 
 CHAP. Ill TURI FACTIONS 191 
 
 It needed no great foresight to realise the consequences. In 
 a country of mountains and stones, the possessors of the 
 valley and water are naturally the objects of envy, and the Turis 
 in their valley again became the centre of interest to the wild and 
 hungry tribes in the mountains all round them. Danger is sup- 
 posed to rally the threatened together, but even this was denied 
 the unhappy Turis, owing to the conditions under which they 
 lived. A bold, reckless, and vigorous race, still conscious of their 
 conquest of Kuram from the Bangashes, they are proud of their 
 position. Like all Pathans, they are intensely democratic. No 
 Turi can bear to see another Turi put in a position of authority 
 over him, and they are eaten up by family, village, and clan feuds 
 and factions. 
 
 Now while all the surrounding hill clans — Zaimushts, Mangals, 
 Muqbils, Wazi'rs, Orukzais — are Sunni Mohammedans, the Turis 
 alone are Shiahs, and as such, hold in particular veneration the 
 Syud families, who are the descendants of the daughter of Mahomet 
 and Ali. Ali thus, to the Shiahs, has a semi-divine character, and 
 owing to this every Syud with the sacred blood in his veins is 
 considered almost to have some of the divine attributes of his 
 ancestor. Each Turi, therefore, considers himself bound to be 
 the Murid, or disciple, of some Syud or other, whom he looks to 
 as his Pir, or spiritual head. The whole of the valley is, in con- 
 sequence, split up into two great semi -religious factions — the 
 Drewanclis, who follow the lead of the Syuds whose head is Syud 
 Abbas of Ahmedzai, and the Midn Murids, or those whose spiritual 
 lord is Mir Akbar of Shakadarra. 
 
 The Drewandis, though numerically the stronger, are so con- 
 tinually at variance, caballing and quarrelling amongst themselves, 
 that the weaker Mian Murids are able to hold their own ; and 
 while the attention of the spiritual leaders of the Mian Murids is 
 much concentrated on increasing their personal following, the Drew- 
 andi ideas may be described as rather more liberal and national. 
 
 Every Turi is thus under the religious influence of one Syud
 
 192 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 family or other, and is educated to a partisan life, in which 
 the general good is always subordinated to individual advantage. 
 The Afghan governors, who ruled the country up to 1878, natur- 
 ally exploited this mass of Pathan and spiritual faction for their 
 own benefit, playing at first with one family and then with another, 
 pitting clan against clan, faction against faction, until the whole 
 of Kurani was a hotbed of intrigue, and the Turis lost all sense of 
 . unity in the violence of party spirit. 
 
 These were the conditions of life when General Eoberts with 
 his army marched through and occupied the valley at the end of 
 1878 ; and with this excellent education we left them, a year and a 
 half later, to the delights of self-government. 
 
 The inevitable took place : anarchy broke out, and every Turi 
 did what was right in his own eyes. The people split up into a 
 thousand different factions, quarrelled amongst themselves, and 
 the absence of any constituted authority gave full opportunity for 
 the unbridled play of intestine faction. 
 
 Upon this interesting scene the spectators on the hills round 
 could not look down long unmoved. It is a moot question whether 
 the Turis first raided uphill or their neighbours obeyed the laws 
 of gravity and swooped down on the valley. At any rate, for ten 
 years the raiding and counter-raiding went on. Probably not 
 many lives were lost, for the Pathan loves a long shot, and his 
 jezaHs do not carry very far ; but life and property were both about 
 as insecure as they could Ije made, even in this country where 
 might is right. The best men in the valley, who still retained 
 sense enough to look ahead, struggled vainly against the strong 
 current which was sweeping their clan to destruction. This 
 state of affairs soon produced the man able to take advantage of it. 
 
 Up in the mountains, on the right-hand side as you go up, 
 there lived a humble person employed as a miller's watchman, a 
 Zaimusht of the Zaimushts, whose broad, thick-set frame betokened 
 him to be a man of great endurance, and whose powerful but evil- 
 looking face proved him to be a man of far greater intelligence than
 
 CHAP. Ill A PATH AN BOB ROY 193 
 
 his neighbours. He adopted the most paying as well as the most 
 honourable profession of his country, and became a thief. By the 
 success of his robberies he soon gained a pre-eminence amongst the 
 young bloods of his clan. The proceeds of his robberies gave him 
 wealth, and the daring with which he carried them out soon 
 collected a band of admirers round about .him, who were ready 
 under his leadership to augment their scanty incomes at the 
 expense of others. Chikkai — for by this nickname he is universally 
 known — soon made himself useful to those who had grudges against 
 their neighbours, by letting himself out as a hired assassin ; and 
 this Eob Eoy with his armed following, was always ready to take 
 his share, and more than his share too, in other people's quarrels. 
 
 In the Zaimusht hills there is a rich village called Chinarak, 
 which, after the manner of the country, was divided against itself. 
 Chikkai, ever ready to play the part of the disinterested friend, 
 took the part of the weaker side, and helped them to drive out 
 their more powerful rivals. This being done, he had little trouble 
 in soon getting rid of his new friends, and, settling himself in their 
 place, found himself one of the leading gentlemen of the Zaimusht 
 clan, owner of the rich village of Chinarak, with a devoted follow- 
 ing of some 80 to 100 well-armed men. As was only natural, the 
 Zaimusht hills soon became too small for him, and he began to fly 
 higher ; but though the stage was greater, the play was the same. 
 
 On the south side of the Kuram valley lay the Afghan district 
 of Khost, which at this time was also in trouble. Nur Mahomet, 
 a cousin, and enemy, of the Kabul Amir's, was in rebellion, and 
 Chikkai, ever ready to help the oppressed, marched across into 
 Khost, and assisted Niir in driving out the Amir's representative 
 and establishing himself in his place. As soon as this was done, 
 Chikkai turned round and, with equal readiness, helped the Amir's 
 troops to turn out Nur Mahomet and recover their position in 
 Khost, whereby he gained great favour at Kabul, besides spreading 
 his influence as a successful king -maker, and as leader of the 
 Sunni clans round Kuram. 
 

 
 194 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 Meanwhile the Tuiis were lighting amongst themselves, Chikkai 
 keeping the pot boiling by alternately with great impartiality 
 assisting one side and then the other. The Mian Murid faction, in 
 their jealonsy of the Drewandis, played into Chikkai's hands ; and 
 after much fighting, the Simni Bangashes, Zaimushts, and Wazirs 
 in 1891 drove the Drewandi Turis out of Lower Kuram, the Mian 
 Murid Turi villages in that part of the valley looking quietly on. 
 These latter, however, did not gain much by their disloyalty to 
 their Druwandi brothers, for the Sunnis inmiediately turned upon 
 them also, and driving them out, became the possessors of the 
 whole of the lower valley from Thull to Sadda. The Turis now 
 saw that their only chance was to rally, and, with the united 
 forces of the clan, they made a desperate onslaught on the Sunnis. 
 The Sunnis fought Ijravely, but were put to flight, and the Turis 
 reoccupied the lower valley, looting and burning all the Sunni 
 villages there. 
 
 Even then the Turis could not hold together. In a few days 
 they began to quarrel. The Upper Kuram men retired with their 
 plunder to the upper valley, and the Lower Kuram Turis, finding 
 themselves left unsupported, evacuated the valley, into which the 
 Sunnis again immediately poured. The usual retaliation began. 
 Turi villages were sacked and burnt, their mosques were defiled, 
 their lands laid waste, and Chikkai assumed the role of governor 
 of Lower Kuram. 
 
 Not content with this success, the Sunni clans next year began 
 to press on the Upper Kuram basin, and made every effort to effect 
 a lodgment therein ; but owing to the continued and resolute stand 
 of the Turis at Sangina, the Sunnis were never able to advance 
 farther than Sadda. 
 
 Hemmed in by their enemies on all sides, the leading Turis 
 now saw that their only hope of escaping national extinction lay 
 in coming under the protection of a power that was strong enough 
 to save them. Years before they had appealed to the British for 
 protection, and failing us, had fallen back on the Afghans ; now
 
 
 
 '^^ '•^- •?] V.' ^ V .■.*■■ H X V V. ^ 
 
 i"' ri >''*^„V '.■'•'^^■ ■.J'l i*% ■ *■■ 
 
 .<54 ..* 

 
 CHAP. Ill THE END OF THE DISCORD 195 
 
 again they appealed to us, and, happily, this time with success. 
 The Amir of Kabul, in his own interests, threw no difficulties in 
 the way, and Mr. Merk, who has had such great experience on 
 the frontier, was sent into tlie valley with a sufficient force to 
 make his will respected, and a new era dawned upon Kuram, 
 Thus ended the ten years of Home Rule. 
 
 Naturally the first matter to settle was Chikkai. Merk got 
 him to come and see him, and in a long interview explained to 
 Chilvkai his own position, a good deal more clearly than Chikkai 
 understood it himself. Cecil Rhodes has said that, in his experi- 
 ence, he has never yet met a man who could not be " squared." 
 Self-interest is, no doubt, a powerful argument, and if you can put 
 the alternatives clearly enough before a man, he will generally 
 choose what is most advantageous to himself. This Merk did to 
 Chikkai very plainly. He had, after all, much to lose and little 
 to gain by showing enmity to us. If he remained friendly to us, 
 and submitted to our wishes, he was told that, on his own ground 
 at any rate, he would be left to keep the position he had won for 
 himself ; the alternative was, of course, to quarrel with us and be 
 " smashed " for his pains. Like a wise man, he chose the former, 
 and has since kept honourably to his bargain. 
 
 Into this valley then, so long the scene of trouble and turmoil, 
 Merk and I now rode. Skirting the stony village of Thull, which 
 lies direct in the mouth of the Kuram valley, our little party 
 advanced, consisting as it did of ourselves, followed by Nainu 
 carrying my gun, and a Turi burdened with my camera-case ; the 
 rear being closed in by two sow;irs of the 5th Punjab Cavalry and 
 our band of half a dozen wild irregulars. 
 
 It was now noon, and the midday sun beat fiercely down on 
 us, being reflected from the barren rocky hills out of which the road 
 is here cut. This is the old road made in the last war, fifteen 
 years ago, and never since touched ! The fact of its existence at 
 all, let alone its fair condition, is a testimony to the hardness of 
 the ground and the absence of rain, that destroyer of man's works.
 
 196 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 Beyond the fact that it was covered with loose stones, it was still 
 almost passable for wheeled traffic, though no wheel has ever 
 scored it since the last gun rumbled back to India after the war. 
 
 The heat did not improve our tempers, and this entrance to 
 the valley is narrow and confined. The stony river-bed below the 
 road has traces of cultivation where possible, but there is not much 
 soil here, and the ground is chiefly grazed over by the Wazirs and the 
 Ghilzais, who drive their flocks down from the higher mountains 
 in winter, into these more sheltered valleys. It is a lonely ride ; 
 even for this thinly-inhabited country we met but few people, and 
 on the face of it it is a No-man's Land, Turi, Zaimusht, Wazir, 
 and Bangash, all raid over it, in the happy consciousness that no 
 local witnesses can fix the responsibility of the foray on them. 
 
 Towards three o'clock in the afternoon, as we jogged along, we 
 saw a crowd in the distance ahead of us, whom we took to be men 
 engaged in building a tower, as a military post on the road ; but on 
 coming up to them a rush was made towards us, and Merk was 
 soon surrounded by a thronging mass of wild and angry ruffians, 
 every one of whom was shouting at his neighbour and appealing to 
 Merk to justify him. The long jezails waved in the air like a forest 
 
 AFGHAN SILVER-MOUNTED KNIFE 
 
 of swaying masts, and the murderous Afghan knives offered them- 
 selves ready to each man's hand. I sat on my pony, looking on at 
 it all with all the unconcern of ignorance, while Merk dismounted, 
 and handing his pony to one of our Turi guards, stood in the 
 middle of the crowd, pouring oil upon the troubled waters. When 
 it is a case of fifty to one, nonchalance is about the best weapon 
 to be armed with ; so I got off my pony, and after inspecting the 
 site of the tower which was to be built here to shelter the new
 
 CHAP. Ill THE PRICE OF BLOOD 197 
 
 Turi levies, tried to photograph Merk and his sateUites. The 
 angry storm rose and fell, and no doubt scores of eager watchers, 
 hiding like wolves in the rocky hills around us, awaited anxiously 
 the issue, ever ready to swoop down and join the fray ! 
 
 Life is cheap here ; 360 rupees, at Is. 2d. each, is the price of 
 blood when paid for; but bills here are seldom paid, and the 
 account runs on for generations, being kept open by long shots 
 from behind a rock, or a stab in the dark from a more silent knife. 
 
 I waited patiently for the result, which is almost inevitable 
 when an able white man has to do with Asiatics, and soon mounted 
 my pony and rode oft' behind Merk, who was accompanied by a 
 band of the leading men of each party, one on either side of him, 
 whom he had ordered to accompany him to our night's camp some 
 five miles farther on. Man is but mortal, and even a Pathan finds it 
 hard to keep up his eloquence and his anger while he is walking 
 about six miles an hour on a hot afternoon, and I noticed that 
 Merk's heels did not allow the pace to slacken. By the time we 
 had got to camp, though physically considerably heated, they had 
 decidedly cooled down mentally, and the matter could be settled 
 to the satisfaction of all parties, while the followers who were left 
 behind dispersed, leaving the matter in the hands of their leaders. 
 It was the old story. Every quarrel in the East is over zan, zar, 
 ya zamin (women, money, or land) ; and as there were no women 
 within miles of the spot, and still less wealth or money about the 
 dreary waste, the quarrel must needs turn on the grazing rights 
 over this No-man's Land. The Wazirs, coming down from their 
 hills, had driven their tiocks over these stones, which the Bangashes 
 declared were theirs ; and the Zaimushts, ever glad to get a dig at 
 their enemies the Wazi'rs, joined in the argument — which, Ijut for 
 our arrival, would have certainly been ended by bloodshed and the 
 discomfiture of the weakest party on the ground. After sitting in 
 solemn conclave before his tent, Merk delivers judgment, on the 
 basis of the status qvo ante, and every one is pleased and feels that 
 great is the wisdom of the Hakim.
 
 198 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 This bit of road between Tludl and Mandnri has always borne 
 a bad name for the above-mentioned reasons, and until the 
 Wazirs on the south have been taught a lesson,-^ it will be more or 
 less in the power of any evilly-disposed ruffian to make his kill 
 and escape over the hills with his booty undetected. It was just 
 here that in 1879 Lieutenant Kinloch of the Punjab Cavalry, 
 riding along with a couple of sow^ars of his regiment, was shot 
 from out of the dwarf palm that lines the road on either side 
 witli tliick low cover. As Kipling puts it : 
 
 A scrimmage on a Border Station — 
 
 A canter down some dark defile — 
 
 Two thousand pounds of education 
 
 Drops to a ten -rupee jezail — 
 
 The Crammer's boast, the squadron's pride. 
 
 Shot like a rabbit in a ride. 
 
 One sword-knot stolen from the camp 
 Will pay for all the school expenses 
 Of any Kuram valley scamp 
 Who knows no word or moods and tenses, 
 But, being blessed T\-itli perfect sight, 
 Picks off our messmates left and right. 
 
 The sun was getting low and the heavy clouds looked threaten- 
 ing as we rode up over a low spur, on the top of which, command- 
 ing the road, was a small post of thirty men of the 2nd Punjab 
 Infantry. A picturesque little walled enclosure stuck against the 
 side of the hill, from the top of which the sentry looked down upon 
 the river below and the country around. 
 
 The post all turn out, the guard and sentries alone being in 
 uniform, but all stand at attention with their rifles in their hands 
 and belts over their shoulders. The old Sikh subadar in command 
 comes out and begs us to halt, while he offers us some very sweet 
 milky tea that he has had prepared for us. Just below us in a 
 
 ^ Since this was written the late punitive expedition into AVazlristan has been 
 successfully carried through, and tlie hoped-for result may be consequently realised.
 
 CHAP. Ill SCOTCH HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF 199 
 
 small basin, surrounded by rather a fine outline of rocky hills, we 
 see the village of Mandiiri — a square, walled block, with its protect- 
 ing tower, near to which stand the white tents of our little camp, 
 where the men are already cooking their evening meal and the line 
 of picketed mules are whinnying for their allowance of chopped 
 straw and grain. Merk with his following hurries on, while I stop 
 to take a photo of the little post and to drink the subadiir's sweet 
 tea, which is, however, welcome after our ride in the hot sun. 
 
 I had just time to canter into our little camp, when the heavy 
 drops began to fall, and the sentries pacing up and down in front of 
 our tents had, I am afraid, a somewhat damp and dreary night of it. 
 
 Next morning we cried halt, partly because the rain in the 
 night had saturated our tents, but principally because Merk's 
 arrival had gathered together numbers of villagers who had com- 
 plaints to make, claims to settle, and petitions to urge ; for he had 
 taken over the government of the valley as he found it, and was 
 running it on native lines — an entirely new departure and one 
 which holds out great promise for the future. 
 
 Formerly, owing to our ignorance of the frontier tribes, we 
 found great difficulty in dealing with them personally, while they, 
 on their side, looked on us with equal fear and distrust. History 
 repeats itself, and like conditions produce like results all the 
 world over, though the colouring may be different. A close 
 parallel exists between the relations of the Highlanders and Low- 
 landers in Scotland between the years 1680 and 1745 and our own 
 north-west frontier at the present day. The raids of Rob Eoy, the 
 intrigues of Fergus Maclvor, find an exact counterpart in every 
 Pathan clan across the border ; and in almost every body of 
 Border Military Police is to be found a Galbraith of Garschatta- 
 chin, a Lowland khan with friends and connections in the High- 
 lands across the frontier. 
 
 The Indian Government was wont to conduct its negotiations 
 with its highland tribes by means of leading native gentlemen, who 
 lived on the frontiers, and who, from long residence on the spot, had
 
 200 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 intimate knowledge of, and frequent dealings with, the tribes across 
 the border. These gentlemen were employed l)y the Government 
 as middlemen. The Government dealt with them and they with 
 the tribes. As was only natural, these chiefs frequently used 
 their position of intermediary to forward their own private ends 
 and those of their friends on both sides of the border, frequently to 
 the detriment of both the Government and the tribes concerned. 
 A common form of their procedure was to raise a storm on the 
 border, and then to get credit with the Government for allaying it. 
 They fished in troubled waters, and it was not to their interest 
 that the waters should be unruffled. 
 
 In 1877 a very serious raid of this kind was made into the 
 Peshawur valley from the hills across the border, in which many 
 of the unfortunate villagers were killed. This was distinctly 
 traced to the incitement of Ajjab Khan, a leading native gentleman, 
 who happily in this case met his reward on the gallows in Peshawur. 
 Even quite lately also the Miranzai expedition was, no doubt, greatly 
 1)rought about by the difficulty of dealing with the tribes through 
 middlemen. 
 
 It was impossible, however, that this system of ignoring the 
 sensibilities of the surrounding tribes, and of treating them to the 
 cold and impersonal justice that the English love so much, should 
 continue. Happily our exclusiveness has broken down, and more 
 intimate relations have been established, to the mutual advantage 
 of both parties. As we got to know the frontier highlanders better, 
 the time came for the abolition of the middleman, and British 
 officers with an intimate knowledge of the Pushtu language were 
 appointed to the direct charge of the frontier. Under these officers 
 a special border force, called the Border Military Police, was raised 
 from men living on both sides of the border. This force, directly 
 under the control of its British officers, deals immediately with the 
 clans, who thus at once come into contact with English ideas of 
 justice and straight dealing, and much of the mutual distrust dis- 
 appears ; while the Government has, through these officers, its hand
 
 i 
 
 J 
 
 5;( fr-
 
 CHAP. Ill A NEW ADMINISTRATION 201 
 
 upon the pulse of the feverish highlanders, and is the first to 
 become aware of any coming trouble. 
 
 Across the frontier too, in Kuram, as before mentioned, a new 
 system has been started by Merk which, without doubt, has a great 
 future before it in the control of these wild countries, which are 
 so eminently unsuited to the heavy harness of a "Western adminis- 
 tration. Speaking of the frontier, it is rather difficult to define 
 what the word means. It is easy to paint a red line on a map, 
 but in practice the white man carries the frontier in his pocket, 
 and it is only when the heavy foot of British administration is put 
 down that the native begins to realise that a change has come 
 over the land. British administration to him, looking at it 
 from his microscopic point of view, means first of all discomfort. 
 The new broom, in the form of the mass of native subordinates, 
 begins to sweep, and before it sweeps clean a cloud of dust is raised. 
 He cannot understand the rigid Western laws, with all their techni- 
 calities, in spite of the earnest endeavours of an active police to 
 enlighten him. Living in a barren country, he fails to appreciate 
 the strict land -revenue system of the new administration, and 
 above all, wild, free-born mountaineer that he is, he resents his 
 loss of liberty among the host of small native of&cials who follow 
 in the white man's train, and who fatten on every land into which 
 they are introduced. 
 
 From the British point of view also these trans -frontier 
 countries are totally incapable of supporting the cost of such an 
 administration. There is little or no " trade," and the sparse popu- 
 lation eke out a scanty subsistence either as nomad pastoralists or 
 as the cultivators of small plots of irrigated ground. Recognising 
 these facts in Kuram, Merk has wisely gone straight to the root of 
 the matter, and has started an administration according to the 
 Oriental method of personal government, instead of that of a sys- 
 tem. In other words, the people are governed entirely according 
 to their own laws and customs, in so far as these do not come into 
 violent contact with Western ideas of morality and justice. In
 
 202 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 cases where they do, tliey are modified by the will of the British 
 officer administering tlie valley, until they are more in harmony 
 with our accepted traditions. 
 
 It is an Oriental system, with a British head. The people are 
 left as much as possible to themselves, while the controlling 
 influence of the British officer, though permeating the whole, is 
 exercised only where necessary, and even then, if possible, through 
 their own jirgas or councils. The result is that the standard of 
 peace and security is sufficiently high ; rights and obligations are 
 secured and carried out to the satisfaction of all parties concerned ; 
 while this form of administration, by doing away with the hordes 
 of native subordinates, is infinitely cheaper, and far more popular, 
 because, intensely democratic as they are, the Pathans under it 
 practically govern themselves. 
 
 Carrying out these ideas then, Merk sat at tlie door of his 
 tent at Mandiiri most of our day's halt there, with his native 
 clerk beside him, his two tall Yusuffzai orderlies, one on each side, 
 and the motley mass of dirty and tattered ragamuffins, who in this 
 country represent the light and leading of the people, in a crowd in 
 front of him. The only alternative to fighting is the jirga, or 
 council of elders, and cases of every kind are tried before them, and 
 judgment given with a wonderful amount of shrewd common-sense. 
 A case in point occurred here. Two men were murdered a few 
 nights before, and the relatives of the victims came to Merk and the 
 jirga, and accused a man of the crime. Now every one present 
 knew that the accused had committed the murder, but the Shariat, 
 or Mohammedan law, requu'es two witnesses. If there are no wit- 
 nesses the law allows a man to clear himself of the charge by an 
 oath upon the Kordn, As in this case the prosecutors could produce 
 no reliable evidence, the accused offered to clear himself by the oath. 
 The jirga, while bound to accept the oath, have still a weapon in 
 their hands to use against notorious liars. A man whose oath is 
 disbelieved can be called upon, after tlie old Anglo-Saxon fashion, 
 to supply compurgators, or men that will swear to the credibility
 
 CHAP. Ill COMPURGATORS 203 
 
 of the party taking the oath. So the jirga in this case, while 
 professing to be convinced by the accused's oath, rnled that he 
 should bring seventy men to swear with him ! These he had to 
 produce by the end of the week, and on the appointed day he 
 appeared with his strange retinue, who one and all swore that he 
 was a good man and true and that he was innocent of the crime ! 
 We heard afterwards that he had to pay each of these men five 
 rupees to come, as their oaths were false, so that he was practically 
 fined Es. 350, the price of blood being actually Es. 360 ! The law 
 was thus vindicated, the guilty punished, and both prosecutors and 
 accused had an honourable escape from a blood feud, which would 
 otherwise have been incumbent upon them. 
 
 Nothing is more remarkable in this country than the way the 
 guilt or innocence of a man is well known to all his neighbours. 
 Killing is frequent, but when a man is killed every one in the village 
 knows who has done it, and by fining the whole village in punish- 
 ment for an outrage as they do, the Government without doubt 
 brings the guilt home to the authors of the crime. 
 
 We spent the afternoons in long tramps through the dwarf 
 palm, which here clothes the stony hillsides in grey patches, in 
 search of the black partridge — that uncertain bird which is never 
 to be found at home when most wanted. Our guard made excel- 
 lent beaters as they forced their way through the tough growth. 
 Surely a fortune is before the lucky man who turns this mazre, or 
 dwarf palm, to account. The fibre of the leaves is intensely tough, 
 and even in its undressed state the natives make plaited ropes and 
 nets of it that are quite equal in strength to hemp. 
 
 We did not get many birds, for the black partridges had 
 shifted, and we could not go up on the hills to look for their 
 cousin the chikor, but a good day's sport can be got in Kuram if 
 you know where to go for it. Higher up in the mountains ourial, 
 the wild sheep, and markhor, the splendid goat, are to be found, 
 and no doubt when the country gets more settled these will be 
 duly looked up by the keen sportsman.
 
 204 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 The rain came down again in torrents late in the afternoon, 
 and made us turn our faces again towards camp, and as we 
 splashed along the road, we were surprised to see a number of 
 men riding towards us. These turned out to be none other than 
 the redoubtable Chikkai himself, riding at the head of a band of 
 some twenty-five or thirty dirty and ragged retainers. He had come 
 down to see Merk, hearing that he was on his way up the valley. 
 Chikkai, who, as far as personal appearance and dress is con- 
 cerned, was in no way to be distinguished from his followers, dis- 
 mounted from his well-made Waziri mare at a little distance, and 
 came to meet us with the usual greeting, " Salam aleikum " (" Peace 
 be with you "), which was answered by us with " Wa aleikum 
 salam " (" And unto you be peace ") ; and then, as the conversation 
 between him and Merk continued in the incomprehensilile Push- 
 tu, I had time to examine this man who had caused so much 
 trouble in these parts. A broad thick-set fellow, with a powerful 
 and active-looking body, dressed in most ordinary dirty clothes, 
 which, no doubt from policy, were in no way different from those 
 of his followers. He wore the loose dust-coloured trousers and 
 linen shirt of the country, the latter pleated at the Imck 
 almost like a kilt, and on his feet were the common grass sandals. 
 His face was as rugged as his clothes — strong, but with an evil, 
 hunted expression, which, however, quite disappeared when he 
 addressed his followers, whom he treated like dogs. A man's 
 quality in this country is judged much by the arms he carries, 
 and Chikkai's beautiful Winchester repeater and finely-worked 
 Afghan knife alone raised him above his retainers, who all carried 
 Martini-Henry and other rifles that had no doubt at some time 
 been in the hands of the Punjiib garrisons, before they had been 
 carried off" across the frontier hj the ever-watchful Pathan thieves.^ 
 
 ^ The business of rifie-stealing is a line art in India, and is practised with much 
 success ; for while I was in Kurani, the competitors in the camp of the National 
 Rifle Association, even so far down country as Cawnpore, awoke on the morning of 
 the prize firing to find eight of their match rifles gone from their tents !
 
 CHAP. Ill A VISIT FROM ROB ROY 205 
 
 Chikkai was most amiable during his interview with ]\Ierk, 
 but it was without regret that we saw this assassin and his cut- 
 throat followers ride off before nightfall, while an extra sentry or 
 two was ordered out, to enable our little camp to sleep all the 
 sounder ; and after dinner, as I made my way across to my tent 
 through the dark night, all was peaceful enough — the munching 
 of the baggage-mules, the tread of the sentries, and the bubbling 
 of the hookahs being the only earthly sounds, while above, the 
 heavens sparkled with all the blaze of a frosty Eastern night.
 
 CHAPTEE IV 
 
 The never-failing delight of an early Eastern morning sent us on 
 our way from Manduri with light hearts. The rain had given an 
 unwonted softness to the dry air, which the hot sun had not yet 
 had time to dispel. Everything seemed bright and keen and fresh, 
 and our ponies even were quite skittish as they plunged into the 
 somewhat swollen waters of the Kuram river, which we here forded. 
 Our picturesque Turis rode in front, hunching their knees up almost 
 to their chins as the rushing waters swirled nearly to the horses' 
 bellies; while behind us Nainu, divesting himself of his nether 
 garments and handing my gun to one of the cavalry sowars, waded 
 across, holding on to the horseman's stirrup. 
 
 The camp and baggage with its escort kept along the road on 
 the right-hand side of the valley, while we crossed the river to beat 
 out the patches of cover which afforded such good shelter to the 
 partridges. The valley began to open out a little, and the frequent 
 villages gave the country a peaceful look, which, however, the in- 
 variable defensive tower and high mud wall surrounding them 
 belied. From here upwards, in the flat bed of the valley wherever 
 the levels allow, the precious water is brought from the Kuram 
 river in irrigating channels and spread over the fertile soil, which 
 only needs water to make any crop do well upon it. Many of the 
 villages showed signs of the late burnings and pillagings, though 
 in truth, as the country is almost absolutely devoid of architecture, 
 the rebuilding of the mud walls does not entail any great labour.
 
 CHAP. IV A TURI GAME 207 
 
 and the fact that a village has been sacked adds no more than 
 another degree to the general poverty and dilapidation of its 
 appearance. 
 
 The people were acknowledging the peace that had come over 
 the valley by digging the fields with their long-handled, heart- 
 shaped spades, stopping only to watch our party ride by with the 
 indifferent curiosity that peasants of all countries show to any 
 novelty. 
 
 We got off our horses now and again, and taking our guns, 
 waded through the dwarf palm, getting a few shots at the black 
 francolins and seeing a hare or two, which we scandalised our 
 friends, the Shia Turis, by shooting ; for owing to the fact that 
 their venerated ancestor, Ali, kept hares as pets, these animals lead 
 a life of happy immunity in a Shia country. 
 
 We sat in the shade of a village wall to eat our lunch, and 
 watched with interest a curious game the boys and men were 
 playing here. They had got hard-boiled eggs, coloured just like 
 the familiar German " Easter egg," and each man, holding his egg 
 in his hand, tapped the end of it against his opponent's egg, the 
 victor being he whose egg was not broken in. Many were the 
 ai'tifices used to gain a victory, and on our examining some of the 
 eggs, one young scoundrel with a twinkle in his eye, showed us his 
 champion, which, though outwardly having every appearance of a 
 coloured egg, must from its weight have been some sort of stone — 
 an egg that would have battled even Columbus himself. 
 
 We questioned some of the young men about the positions of 
 the villages in the valley, and it is significant of the insecurity of 
 the district during the last ten years that none of the young men 
 in Kurani know anything about the country more than four or five 
 miles from their villages. The old men still remember an era of 
 peace previous to this, when their movements were less restricted. 
 Any merchants or travellers through the valley were simply escorted 
 from village to \dllage, and with true military instinct, the young 
 Turis took good care to remain always within reach of their supports.
 
 208 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 The question of escorts has obtained quite a different meaning in 
 the East from what we are accustomed to give it. While an escort 
 is everywhere in these wild countries necessary to protect the weak 
 from the strong, you can practically insure yourself against any 
 loss by paying a premium to the clan whose happy hunting-ground 
 you are traversing. They give you a policy, in the shape of a 
 nominal guard, which is recognised by any marauder. Should the 
 village under whose protection you are be a strong one, it may be 
 that a little girl even will be considered sufficient, and in answer to 
 a remonstrance an old Pathan once said proudly to us, " Why, my 
 friend, if one of our dogs was tied up here, no one would dare 
 touch you " ! 
 
 We clambered up the bare hillside after lunch, to inspect some 
 old ruins on a knoll above the river. Traces of a large work, 
 whose walls were built of immense well-cut stones, are here visible, 
 though little of it is now standing ; such signs of wealth and power 
 recall a time when a vastly different condition of things from the 
 present nnist have existed here. The natives know nothing about 
 it, but from coins found at Alizai, on the opposite side of the river, 
 it is no doubt the work of the Ghazni kings, who nourished about 
 the tenth and eleventh centuries, and who built the fort probably 
 to command the cross-roads here, from Kabul to India through the 
 valley, and from Hangu to Khost across the hills. 
 
 Scrambling down over the rough stones, we rejoined our ponies 
 and continued up the valley, where the Turis pointed out to us, 
 with pride, a village which had a few months before been the 
 scene of great heroism. Chikkai, with his allies, was conquering 
 the country, and had carried all before him except this village, 
 which bravely held out until they had nothing left to eat. To his 
 credit be it said, quarter was offered by Chikkai if a surrender 
 was made ; but tliough the majority of fighters on both sides had 
 known each other from infancy, the villagers refused to give in, 
 and the tower in which they made their last stand was burned 
 over their heads. The instinct of chivalry is buried deep down in
 
 CHAP. IV PATH AN CHIVALRY 209 
 
 these rouorh mediceval warriors, the uncouthness of whose exteriors 
 is probably not greater than was that of the knights of King 
 Arthur's Eound Table, though modern romance has clothed the 
 latter in the silks and satins of nineteenth-century civilisation. 
 
 Only last year Chikkai was going to pay a visit to his 
 neighbours the Orukzai, but as he suspected treachery, he begged 
 that hostages might be given, and accordingly two sons of one of 
 the Orukzai chiefs were sent to him. As soon as Chikkai got them 
 into his power, he seized the boys and threatened them with death 
 unless their father drove out some enemies of Chikkai's who had 
 claimed and obtained the hospitality of the Orukzais. The boys, 
 nothing daunted, thereupon sent to their father a message, begging 
 him on no account to accede to Chikkai's wishes, for that they would 
 gladly die rather than that the name of the Orukzai hospitality 
 should be disgraced. Wild and rough though they are, there is no 
 doubt that the Pathans, in common with most mountaineers, have a 
 highly-strung fibre running through some what uncouth personalities. 
 
 We forded the river back again and got on to the road, a 
 short mile taking us into our camp at Marukhel. Just before 
 reaching the village a short rise brought the whole line of the 
 Safed Koh into view — a glorious white range of mountains some 
 15,000 feet high, the extreme left-hand peak, Sikaram, being even 
 as high as Mont Blanc. This range, almost overhanging the 
 Upper Kuram basin, is undoubtedly the most beautiful feature of 
 the valley. The glistening snowy mass, hanging in the blue air, is 
 an incessant delight to the eye wearied with the dry and treeless 
 country. The whole way up the lower valley glimpses are caught 
 of it here and there ; while, once the Upper Kuram basin is 
 reached, it stands like a wall before one. Looking at the vast 
 snow-fields, it is almost impossible to realise that only a few small 
 patches can last through the heat of the summer sun. But as the 
 snow melts, masses of alpine fiowers spring out of the high pastures, 
 and the shepherds drive their flocks of sheep and goats up the deep 
 ravines on to the green hillsides above, where they graze the short 
 
 p
 
 210 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 summer through, until the autumn storms warn them to seek again 
 shelter lower down. This great range is otherwise quite uninhabited. 
 The Turi is no admirer of scenery, and there is little to tempt him 
 away from his cultivated fields by the river-side. Now and then 
 an enterprising hunter clambers over the rocky slopes in search 
 of ourial, and still more rarely a devotee makes his way to the 
 sacred summit of Sikaram, but otherwise solitude reigns over the 
 whole. 
 
 OUR BAGGAGE 
 
 "We pushed on next day to reach Sangina, where the remaining 
 half of the Kuram force was encamped, passing the many-towered 
 villages which here dot the valley all along. The people were 
 civil enough, coming out often to greet Merk as we rode by, now 
 with a complaint and now with a welcome, while the children, 
 with little on them but a few rags, poured out of the village gates 
 to satisfy their curiosity. 
 
 As we neared the big village of Sadda, the sound of artillery- 
 fiiing and shells l)ursting at the camp l:)eyond made us ride up a 
 low hill to reconnoitre. Continuing, however, we were somewhat 
 relieved Ijy meeting Lieutenant Molesworth bringing in the two
 
 f'^'^J'M
 
 CHAP. IV THE PALACE AT SANGINA 211 
 
 guns of his mountain battery from practice, and soon came to a 
 picket of the 2nd Punjab Infantry guarding the watering-place and 
 ford over the stream that here joins the Kuram river. Here a 
 bridge of faggots had been built across the water, from which a soft 
 road was made over the terraced fields into the little basin behind 
 the village of Sangi'na, in which the camp lay hidden — a sheltered 
 nook off the main valley, down which the bitter wind sweeps 
 almost every winter's afternoon. 
 
 We were kindly greeted as usual as we rode through the 
 straight lines of tents to the upper end of the camp, where the 
 politicals reigned supreme. As an honoured guest, I was put up 
 in " the palace " which that man of peace, the chief political officer, 
 had caused to be built as a sign of the permanency of our occupa- 
 tion ! It consisted of a square stone and mud hut, ten feet by eight, 
 a mud floor, a flat mud roof, through which the rain leaked, no 
 windows, and a door which had been cut out of a huge deodar tree 
 with an axe. Never was I lodged in such a cold and dismal abode. 
 The warm sun outside even made no impression on it. However, it 
 had the advantage of being dark enough to develop photographs 
 in, and it was soon arranged satisfactorily for that purpose, and 
 was no doubt the first " photographic studio " with whicli the 
 valley had been honoured. 
 
 Sangina, being the headquarters of the occupying force, was a 
 much larger camp than that at Bilandkhel, and lay snugly sur- 
 rounded by high stony hills, being cut off also from the main 
 valley by the picturesque towered village of the same name, which 
 crowned a low hill. A constant stream of camels brought up sup- 
 plies from Thull, and there was much movement always on the 
 parade-ground, which formed one side of the little basin. The 
 weather was again gloriously fine after the late rains, and the air 
 was none the less keen from o\u- being some 4000 feet above the 
 sea ; for though the road up the valley seems le\el enough, it is in 
 fact rising steadily all the way. 
 
 My mornings were, as usual, busily occupied with photography,
 
 212 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 the Sikh native officers, as at Bilandkhel, expressing a childish delight 
 at having their pictures taken. I was again favourahly impressed 
 by these men. The happy, friendly dispositions, the well-bred court- 
 eous manners, and a bright geniality that they possess, make it 
 much easier to get on with them than with their more reserved and 
 silent Pathan comrades. The relations of the English and the native 
 officers of the 2nd Punjab Infantry were here also of the most 
 friendly description. If the mornings were strictly devoted to drill 
 and musketry, the afternoons always brought round a keen game of 
 football, when the parade-ground was covered with a rushing and 
 excited crowd headed by Lieutenant Elsmie, who often met his 
 match in a very fast little Sikh during the varying fortunes of the 
 game. If the Sikh is a good man to fight, he is equally ready to 
 play you either at football, wrestling, jumping, or any other sporting 
 competition ; and with his pagri knocked off, his long black hair 
 and beard streaming wildly in the wind, he looks the picture of 
 keen activity as he careers over the ground. 
 
 While we have been watching the players, who are encouraged 
 by the shouts and cries of the long line of sepoys, dressed in their 
 yellow tanned sheepskin postins, standing round the ground, the 
 sun has dropped behind the hill, and the heavy dusk falls suddenly 
 over all. Silently, before the guard-tent close behind us, the night 
 pickets of some thirty men have formed up, and have been inspected 
 by their officer, while the buglers of the regiment line up alongside 
 of them. " Attention ! " rings out into the growing darkness, and 
 the double line stand immovable in their long black greatcoats, 
 with bayonets fixed. There is a pause while the bugles are raised, 
 and then, in perfect time, clear into the still night air sounds the 
 beautiful call — 
 
 :^ „ =fri *~T~? — fc^* — '~ m. m \- m ^5 — I r S— I ^ ■ , - * J . * ^- ■ 
 
 J \_ .FL ^ ^ 1 1 < g -.^e * j 1 * H — -1 * ^ ^ — '
 
 CHAP. IV AN EVENING PRAYER 213 
 
 — which is repeated again and again by the echoing hills around, 
 until the last soft C has faded away into the night, and the tramp 
 of the pickets alone is heard as they march off to their respective 
 posts on the rocks above. It is like an evening prayer to the 
 protecting Deity. 
 
 But we have to hurry off, for the football is over and the mess 
 bugle has long since gone, and I have to cross the whole camp 
 before I can reach my " palace," where Nainu is waiting with soap 
 and water to make me fit to appear at the mess of the hospitable 
 2nd Punjab Infantry. 
 
 The usual camp routine was going on here, and every one was 
 busy during the mornings ; but owing to the Turis in this part of 
 the valley being much more peaceably disposed than the Wazfrs 
 at Bilandkhel, we were allowed much more liberty, and if accom- 
 panied by a guard, were free to go where we liked in the neigh- 
 bourhood. Just at the corner, where the valley takes the sharj) 
 bend and only half a mile from the camp, lay the big village of 
 Sadda — a picturesque, if dirty, conglomeration of mud and stones. 
 From the outside nothing is seen of the houses, for the high wall 
 shuts them all in ; but the many towers, which are built of wood 
 filled in with sun-dried brick plastered over with mud, give the 
 village an imposing look. In this country, where there are so few 
 signs of men's skill in raising buildings, one's eye rests with 
 pleasure on the ornamented loopholes of these towers, many of 
 which show signs of great care and taste in their construction. 
 
 Accompanied by Nainu carrying my camera -case, and two 
 orderlies, I made sundry excursions to Sadda, and found the people 
 friendly enough — which is surprising when one considers how little 
 they could have understood what I meant when I planted the
 
 214 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ir 
 
 camera on its legs and, putting my head under a black cloth, 
 begged them to stand still ! In the village itself there is absolutely 
 nothing to photograph. The narrow alleys are as usual hedged 
 in on both sides by mud and stone walls, with now and then an 
 opening through them into a muddy yard, flanked by rough sheds, 
 which seem to be used at once by the cattle and their owners. 
 Walking round the outside of the village, I came at last upon a 
 picture in this pictureless country. 
 
 An irrigating channel had been brought round from the streams 
 above, and the fall was used here to turn the wheels of two corn- 
 mills. 
 
 The water-mills all over this part of the world are sacred to the 
 women. It is they who carry the corn thither in baskets on their 
 heads, grind it, and carry it home again. The mills thus become 
 the centres round which the love stories play. Assignations are 
 made here, and if the ardent lover is bold enough, he carries off 
 the loved one as she returns in the dusk with her load gracefully 
 poised upon her head. 
 
 The construction of these mills is curiously enough the same as 
 those in Kulu ; the water is brought down in a straight shoot, and 
 impinges upon wooden blades set out at an angle from the vertical 
 shaft which carries and revolves the upper mill-stone. A small 
 shed protects the w^omen from the noonday sun, as they sit gossip- 
 ing on the open floor beside the spinning-wheels, while the water 
 that has done its work gushes out from under the floor in a 
 sparkling stream that is refreshing, even to look at, in this dry 
 and barren country. 
 
 Into this dove-cot I suddenly pounced, to the consternation of 
 the timid ladies. Those whose retreat was open made haste to fly, 
 while those who were cut off drew their sober-coloured shawls 
 across their faces to hide, I am afraid I must confess, their not too 
 attractive features. 
 
 It is the next worse thing to being blind for a traveller to be 
 ignorant of the language of the country where his wandermgs take
 
 CHAP. IV A PHOTOGRAPHER'S TRIALS 215 
 
 him. A few laughing words, a joke, in Pushtu, would have put 
 these good ladies quite at their ease ; as it was I am sure they only 
 attributed it to my shocking manners that I immediately put my 
 head into a black box and told the orderly to tell them that I 
 would not hurt them, if only they would sit still and not be 
 afraid. 
 
 Happily there were very few men of their village about, or the 
 attention thus paid to them by a Sahib might have been disconcert- 
 ing to them ; ]3ut with patience on my part and curiosity on theirs, 
 the matter was satisfactorily arranged, with the result of the picture 
 on the opposite page. The small arched building above the mill 
 is the village mosque. 
 
 Happily for Job, photography was not invented in his day, for 
 the patience required to get such unstable elements as the sun, 
 Eastern women, running water, and Kuram wind to remain still 
 together for even a couple of seconds, would have sorely tried him. 
 "When to these are added the photographer's minor cares, of his 
 shutter, his stops, his exposures, his levels, his plates, it is always a 
 marvel to me how his back is broad enough to support the burden ! 
 
 Sportsmen were plentiful in Sangina camp, and we diligently 
 tramped the valley with our guns, for some swampy, irrigated ground 
 just below Sadda formed a famous lodging-place for snipe. The 
 best of this excellent shooting was over before I reached the valley, 
 but a good day's sport could be got, as well as, alas ! many cartridges 
 thrown away, in trying to get the better of these erratic birds. 
 The fishermen too were not idle. Captain Nicholls, the brigade- 
 major, an indefatigable sportsman, spent as much of his time as 
 he could spare trying the merits of spoon bait, Chilwa, and frogs 
 with great success ; for, whisper it not abroad, the Kuram river is 
 one of the best of mahseer preserves, and before I left the valley 
 I saw a thirty -five pounder brought to bank. 
 
 While in camp at Sangina I made the acquaintance of a gentle- 
 man to whose kindness I owed nuich of my pleasure in Kuram. 
 The Shahzada Sultan Jan, CLE., is a descendant of Ahmedshah,
 
 216 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 the first king of Afghanistan, whose dynasty was supplanted by 
 the present Barukzais. In the convulsion of the Kabul disaster 
 in 1841, the Shahzada's father and his household had to fly from 
 Kabul, and took refuge in the British district of Kohat, where 
 they have ever since been one of the leading families, and one 
 most conspicuous for their loyalty. When the mutiny of '57 broke 
 out, the Shahzada, then a young man, raised a troop of cavalry, 
 and went through the whole of the campaign with great distinc- 
 tion. On his return from the wars the young prince entered the 
 civil administration, in which he has served ever since, rendering 
 most excellent service in the many expeditions that have taken 
 place on the frontier. His intimate knowledge of the people and 
 the country are of great value, and during the last war, when the 
 Afghan district of Khost was occupied, he was left there as governor 
 of Matiin — a position from which he had to be hastily rescued just 
 in time to escape being massacred by a large and powerfvil combina- 
 tion of the tribes. He is a man greatly beloved by the people 
 and thoroughly trusted by every one. He is known affectionately 
 by all English otiicers on the frontier as " the Prince," while his 
 perfect manners, his breeding, and courtesy, combined with his 
 gentle modesty, have made him an universal favourite. Here in 
 Kuram he was Merk's political assistant, and no doubt by his 
 tact and ability helped to bring many a matter to a successful 
 issue. 
 
 It is a real pleasure in a country where one sees almost nothing 
 but the servant class, and now and then a member of an effete 
 and emasculated nobility, to come across such a true specimen of 
 a native gentleman. The Shahzada's tent was pitched close to 
 mine in the camp, and he was mostly to he seen sitting in judg- 
 ment at his door, wdth a crowd of the tatterdom of the country 
 squatting on the ground before him. 
 
 The other member of our political corner was Captain Dallas, 
 who was in command of the newly-raised Turi Militia.^ It was 
 
 ^ An almost exact parallel to the Indian Border Military Police and the Kuram
 
 -■?ai;S^-'
 
 CHAP. IV THE BIRTH OF A REGIMENT 217 
 
 amusing to see these men being broken in and mouthed Hke colts. 
 The majority had not yet got their uniforms or rifles, and wore the 
 dress and carried the long flint-locks of the country, but upon 
 them was already devolving the responsibility for the peace of 
 the district. The squad of them here illustrated were marched 
 up by Captain Dallas to have their pictures taken. They were 
 under the command of their jemadar, the good-looking boy in 
 uniform, who was none other than the nephew of Chikkai liimself, 
 and who lisped the newly -learnt English words of command 
 with a half-shamefaced, blushing smile ! Fine big healthy men 
 all of them, enlisted on the spot, they are capable of being made 
 into excellent soldiers as soon as they have learnt the necessary 
 self-control and self-respect. At present they garrison small posts 
 in different parts of the valley, while their headquarters were at 
 Baleshkhel, just opposite Sangina ; and they lately evinced their 
 military spirit, on the occasion of some troops being moved up the 
 valley to turn out a party of Afghans who had cut off the water 
 from the irrigating canals, by sending in word from the outposts, 
 that if there was to be any fighting with their hereditary enemies, 
 it was their intention to be present, with or without the necessary 
 orders ! 
 
 There is no doubt about the personal courage of these frontier 
 tribes, from whom such a number of recruits are enlisted into our 
 native infantry regiments. They are inured to fighting from theii' 
 boyhood, life is given and taken with little heed on either side, 
 and it is only the want of capable leaders that has prevented 
 them ever being a really powerful combination. They are too 
 democratic in spirit to render implicit obedience for long to any 
 
 Levies is to be found in the raising of military companies in the Highlands of 
 Scotland, at the beginning of last century. These were for the protection of the 
 country against evildoers. Among these companies were the Sidier Dhu, or Black 
 Soldiers, out of whom the celebrated regiment of The Black Watch was formed. Just 
 in the same way, without doubt, the Border Military Police, the Khyber Rifles, the 
 Zhob Levies, the Kuram Militia, and the various other local irregular corps, will, 
 fifty years hence, be found amongst our best fighting regiments.
 
 218 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ir 
 
 one of their own class: and it is only when they are brought under 
 the guidance and leadership of an Englishman from outside, that 
 they learn to forget their differences in their obedience to him, 
 and so develop their full value as a fighting material. Those 
 who were at the battle of Ahmed Khel know that the 2nd 
 Punjabis can stand when others run, and their grizzled old suba- 
 dar-major is a type of a north-west frontier soldier. A tall, thin 
 Shinwarri from the Khyber, his long sparse grey beard hanging 
 almost to his waist, active and supple, his bright eyes peer out of 
 his hollowed cheeks with no look of a man of peace — nor has he 
 been bred up in the school of peace. 
 
 Wali Khan, as is so often the case, inherited a blood feud at 
 his birth, and grew up with the duty of vengeance upon him, and 
 while a lad his movements at home were never free from the 
 constant anxiety. Like many others, he took service with us in 
 order to escape this harassing life, and enlisted in the 2nd Punjab 
 Infantry. His visits to his wife at home, however, when on 
 furlough, were always by stealth, and he had to travel by night 
 and across country to avoid his ever-watchful enemies, who would 
 have been only too glad to catch him thus alone on the road if 
 they could. 
 
 Some ten years ago these wretches, in disappointment at not 
 getting hold of Wali Khan himself, seized his son, a promising lad, 
 and imprisoned him in one of their towers. The next news that 
 Wali Khan heard was that this favourite son had been brutally 
 murdered by having his throat cut. 
 
 This preyed so upon his mind that he never rested until he 
 had got a revolver and the best sporting rifle that he could purchase 
 from England ; for at that time the restrictions upon selling arms 
 to Pathans were not as strict as they are now. Every furlough 
 that he could obtain, Wali Khan crossed the frontier and stole up 
 into his mountains to stalk his enemies, and, with an almost 
 religious fervour, to avenge his boy's death. Many were his 
 escapes. On one occasion he was met by a woman, who begged
 
 CHAP. IV A BLOOD FEUD 219 
 
 him not to go to his home by a certain road, for that his enemies 
 knew of his coming, and were there lying in wait for him. Wali, 
 profiting by this information, vvaited nntil nightfall, and then made 
 his way over the hills to the very track where his enemies were ex- 
 pecting him, and there hid himself in some rocks to await them. He 
 never moved for the whole of next day, till at last his opportunity 
 came, and he saw two men making their way back on the path 
 below him. They had got tired of lying in ambush for him, and 
 thinking that he must haxe gone by another road, were returning 
 to the village. Wall's rifle-shot echoed through the silent hills, and 
 waiting only to see that his man had fallen, he hurriedly made his 
 escape back to British territory. The man was only wounded, how- 
 ever, and Wali later told his friends in camp how an unaccountable 
 evil fortune frustrated all his efforts. " I have hit my man twice, 
 I have broken his arm, and have shot him in the leg, so that he 
 goes lame, but the man still lives." At last fortune favoured Wali, 
 and he returned after one leave of absence with his mind at rest, 
 for he had avenged his boy's death; but of course by killing 
 his man he had reopened the feud, and his village became an 
 impossible home for him. He had few friends there and many 
 enemies, for he had been a loyal soldier to the Government, and by 
 his help many a deserter and many a stolen rifle had been recovered 
 from across the border. Age, too, was beginning to tell against 
 such a life of incessant hardship ; so with his f-a vings, which were 
 considerable for a man of his rank, he bought some land near 
 Peshawur, and thither transplanted his wife and his remaining 
 son, and is now enabled to visit his home under the security of the 
 British cTgis. 
 
 Such blood feuds as these are characteristic of the country,'^ and 
 have done much to bring about the present Pathan institutions, 
 though it is difficult to trace their origin. They are strictly con- 
 fined to agnates, or relatives on the male side, and often continue for 
 two or three generations, sometimes blazing up, and then again 
 
 ' See Appendix E.
 
 220 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 lapsing into quiet for a few years, only to break out afresh. Should 
 such feuds spread and involve, as they often do, the whole clan, 
 the leading men and the mullahs, seeing the danger of such dissen- 
 sion, interfere and compose the quarrel, after which all honour in 
 killing is lost ; for the whole affair is a matter of honour, and it is 
 considered a chivalrous thing to have lost one's life in such a feud, 
 though the means taken to get rid of the enemy are not such as 
 we should esteem highly. But inasmuch as a tally is kept of the 
 number of deaths on each side, there is great advantage in killing 
 your opponent secretly, while the fact that the feud is often carried 
 on by the retainers on both sides tends to spread rather than to 
 limit the quarrel. 
 
 Brought up under such circumstances, it is only natural that 
 the Pathan has developed his characteristical contempt of death, 
 and has learnt to look upon life as a serious thing while it lasts ; 
 and there is no doubt that many of the young men enlist in our 
 regiments in order to escape the life of unrest and anxiety that 
 these constant feuds entail upon them at home. 
 
 Every Pathan male owns his share in the property of the 
 whole clan, and in any new conquest or move of the clan he will 
 always be entitled to his share ; hence every male is known and 
 registered in the memories of the leading men of a clan, who have 
 the faculty for genealogy immensely developed and can remember 
 the members of each family for generations. " Peace to you, 
 much on the father's side ! " is the greeting to a stranger ; " whence 
 come you ? " " Sahib, I am an Orukzai." " Among the Orukzais 
 who are you ? " "I am a Massuzai." " Good ; among the Massuzais 
 of what kind are you ? " "A Mastal Khel, Sahib." " Of the Mastal 
 Khels to which house do you l^elong, man of good birth ? " " To 
 the Mirbaz Kor, Sirkar 1 " " In the Mirbaz Kor who was your 
 grandfather ? " " Malik Abdulla Nur " will be his reply, in the 
 pride of possessing an ancestor who was well known. 
 
 Any man can sell his birthright in a clan, but as the possession 
 of land is necessary to give him a political status and a voice in
 
 
 TOWER IN THE VILLAGE OF SADDA
 
 CHAP. IV WOMAN'S VALUE 221 
 
 the jirga or council of the tribe, it is seldom done. Though of 
 course Pathans differ in worldly prosperity, yet they are all 
 socially equal in blood, and can intermarry, though in truth 
 marriage to them is rather the " taking unto himself" of a wife by 
 the man. For the women are for the whole of their lives in manu 
 viri, the absolute property of their male owner for the time being. 
 While unmarried, girls are the saleable property of their father, 
 and in the event of his death, they are at the disposal of their 
 nearest male relative. On their marriage, women pass out of their 
 own family into that of their husband, and should he die, they 
 become the property of their sons, or if childless, then the property 
 of their husband's nearest male relative. 
 
 Thus an enterprising son frequently sells his widowed mother to 
 an eligible buyer, and with the proceeds himself invests in a wife. 
 
 Women in consequence have, besides their other charms, an 
 intrinsic market value — which of course fluctuates, as other com- 
 modities do, with the desire of the buyer ; but ^:>e(/AZas, or virgins, 
 are considered cheap at Es. 100, while an average price is Es. 
 250 ; if, however, the buyer be a khan or leading man, as much 
 as two, three, or even four thousand rupees is asked for by the 
 happy guardian of the damsel. 
 
 The poorer classes seldom can afford the expense of more than 
 one wife, and marriages are usually determined by considerations 
 of family and money. A man acquainted with both liimilies will 
 go to the bride's father, mention the suitor's name, and ascertain 
 for what consideration he will part with his fair daughter. In this 
 happy country it is usual for the father to object to overtures for 
 a younger daughter while he still has an elder unmarried one in 
 the house, showing that here, as elsewhere, elderly unmarried ladies 
 are a drug in the market. 
 
 The amount fixed by the father will vary according to what he 
 thinks the suitor will give. It will include a sum of money for 
 expenses, another for jewels, while a certain quantity of rice and 
 butter is stipulated for to satisfy the hungry marriage guests.
 
 222 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 The hao-o-ling that goes on on both sides is conducted with great 
 spirit, the father extolling the beauties and virtues of his unseen 
 daucrhter with a zeal worthy of a proverb. When the terms are 
 agreed upon and the money has been paid down by the bridegroom, 
 the betrothal is considered made, and the imam may perform the 
 ceremony. 
 
 The happy bridegroom now for the first time appears on the 
 scene, and, accompanied by a band of friends, all armed with 
 swords and guns, makes his way through the narrow alleys of the 
 village to the bride's house, where he is received by her friends with 
 showers of mud and stones from the housetops, which before now 
 have caused death ! 
 
 Undeterred by this somewhat unwelcome reception, he forces 
 his way into the house, feeing liberally all the servants, whose 
 palms are open ready to partake of their share in this festal occasion, 
 and there receives his bride, who is shut up in an enclosed litter ! 
 This is carried off by his friends and the procession is re-formed, 
 the bridegroom leading the way to his home mounted on his 
 scraggy pony, his friends celebrating their victory in capturing the 
 damsel by repeatedly letting off their flint-locks. The feasting is 
 then carried on for another night, after which, for the first time, the 
 bridegroom has leisure to ascertain if his bride is all that she has 
 been described. 
 
 These facts sound somewhat bald, but differ after all in no great 
 measure, especially from the woman's point of view, from many of 
 our mariages cle convenance, though we doubt much if our modern 
 young gentleman would care thus to " buy a pig in a poke." We 
 profess pious horror at the revolting idea of a pasha buying a wife 
 abroad, while in the same breath we congratulate our friends upon 
 a " well-arranged " marriage at home. 
 
 However, if the Pathans have their mariages de convenance, 
 thev have the necessary accompaniments too in the frequent elope- 
 ments. The morality of the women is protected by walled villages 
 and towers, but that their feelings are warm is proved by the con-
 
 CHAP. IV PA THAN ROMANCE 223 
 
 stant risk of death incurred by the lovers in carrying off the 
 women on whom they have set their hearts. This is no light 
 matter, for unless the husband can be satisfied by the payment to 
 him of the woman's market value, plus a compensation for his 
 injured honour, the lover will have to suffer the penalty of death if 
 caught. If he escapes to another village he will not be received, 
 as by protecting him they would incur a blood feud with the in- 
 jured man's village. He becomes, in consequence, an outlaw and 
 wanderer in a country where strangers are looked upon with sus- 
 picion, and until his family have stepped in and healed the breach, 
 he cannot return to enjoy his birthright among his own people. 
 Natural selection breaks out as strongly in Kuram as elsewhere, 
 and the old Latin Grammar quotation, Naturam expellas furca, 
 tariien usque recurret, still holds good in spite of the locks and 
 bolts of the Turi lord and master. 
 
 In spite of this apparently inferior position occupied by the 
 women, there is no doubt that they greatly influence- the men by 
 their encouragements, as well as by their taunts. For a Moham- 
 medan country they have a great deal of liberty, and are allowed to 
 go about everywhere unveiled. In riding along the road or shoot- 
 ing across the cultivated land, one frequently passed close to them 
 as they weeded their fields near their villages. They showed no 
 signs of shyness, but greeted one with the usual salutation of " Starai 
 ma sha " (" May you never grow weary ") ; and one's answer, " Kor di 
 abad" ("May thy house be prosperous "), sealed the friendly greeting; 
 nor did any of the men about seem to resent their women's liberty. 
 
 After a week or two of this pleasant life in camp at Sangi'na, 
 we began to make our preparations for our march farther up the 
 valley. In camp life these do not entail any great loss of time, for 
 one's baggage is already reduced to a minimum in order to be port- 
 able, and in one's small mule-trunks there is only one place for 
 each thing and each thing must go into its place. 
 
 My preparations, however, always entailed the consideration of 
 the photographic impedimenta, and a decision had to be made as to
 
 224 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 what was absolutely necessary to take with me and what I could 
 safely leave behind. 
 
 "With ]\Ierk's help I engaged a Turi, who, for the consideration 
 of Ks. 4 a week,^ agreed to carry my knapsack camera-case behind 
 me wherever I went. He was without doubt one of the most 
 villainous-looking men I have ever met. His black shaggy locks 
 fell from under a dirty piece of cotton, which, wrapped round his 
 head, served as a turban ; a sparse black beard and cut moustache 
 partly covered his red sun-scorched face, from out of which two 
 evil-looking bloodshot eyes and a nose of a hue belying his strict 
 adhesion to the laws of the Prophet, peered with evil expression. 
 I never knew him well enough to get at his name, but on one 
 occasion, when he was absent for a few days, he suppHed his 
 brother for the work, who ran him very close in good looks. An 
 old blanket, which, like his tattered woollen clothes, had long since 
 hidden its original colour under a layer of mother earth, served 
 him as both day-gown and night-gown, while the whole of his 
 toilet was held together by a powerful and pungent human odour 
 of a kind that is only to be attained by many a month's abstention 
 from water. 
 
 To this day my camera-case is tainted with Turi. 
 
 However, he was a fine big athletic and willing fellow, and the 
 way that he kept up with my pony in marches of twenty miles over 
 the stony, trackless country, with a load of thirty pounds on his 
 back, was admirable ; and it was only when I found him one day, 
 in his excess of zeal, inside my tent endeavouring to make my bed, 
 that I had to delicately insinuate to him that, as the tent was so 
 small, I thought that Xainu alone would be sufficient to attend 
 to its internal economy. 
 
 It was arranged that Merk was to come with us, and Captain 
 Dallas, having his militia posts to \'isit, came also with his body- 
 guard of mounted militia orderlies. Merk had received an invita- 
 
 1 This high paj- shows the greater independence of these frontier people. Nainu's 
 services were reckoned at Ks. 10 a month.
 
 CHAP. IV 
 
 TURI CAMERA-CARRIER 
 
 225 
 
 tion to pay a visit to Mir Akbar, the leader of the Mian Murid 
 taction of the Turis, whose village, Shakadara, lay up on the lower 
 slopes of the Safed Koh, some six miles to the northward of 
 Sangina camp, and which from its detached situation was said to 
 be interesting and picturesque. So it was agreed that we should 
 send our camp with the escort up the valley to the firs-t march. 
 Sultan, and riding off ourselves with some orderlies, should visit 
 Shakadara on our way.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 The morning, as usual, was clear and delightfully crisp as we 
 three, accompanied by the usual guard of a couple of Cavalry 
 sowars and some half-dozen of Captain Dallas's mounted flint-lock 
 warriors, rode down through the broad avenues of the camp, past 
 the lines of picketed battery mules and white horses of the cavalry ; 
 and as we crossed under the quaint little Sangina village on its 
 hill, which from its external appearance faintly recalls some of the 
 mediaeval Italian walled towns, the inevitable pariah dogs rushed 
 down the slope to bark a farewell. 
 
 On our way down over the terraced cultivation to the river 
 long strings of mules met us coming up from the water, and at 
 the slender bridge itself we had to wait for a convoy of sleepily- 
 moving camels, who with slow and slouching steps were bringing 
 stores up from the distant base at Kohat. 
 
 Once over the river, we turned to the left up the valley and 
 kept up the old track made during the last war, which here runs 
 through the flat cultivated river-bed. It is difficult to convey an 
 exact impression of this frontier country, for though the whole of 
 it may be described as a stony, barren, treeless wilderness, yet 
 wherever man has brought water, the fields are green with rich 
 crops, and the water-courses are bordered by graceful willows, with 
 here and there a fine plane ; but this cultivation is so artificial that 
 you can literally stand with one foot on a green wheat-field and 
 the other on the desert, which may extend without a break for
 
 CHAP. V UPPER KURAM 227 
 
 twenty miles. Thus as long as we kept along the river we rode 
 over a fertile soil, cultivated with great care and dotted every half 
 a mile or so with square fort-like villages, which prove the pros- 
 perity of the Turis in spite of the many disturbances that have 
 lately occurred. 
 
 After a mile or so of this, however, we turned off to our right, 
 and clambering up a steep bank some thirty feet high, found our- 
 selves on a vast, open, stony slope, running right up in one even 
 gradient to the foot of the great snowy range some five miles off. 
 There is nothing to break the long lines, nothing to catch the eye. 
 The dry, barren earth is covered with a gigantic gravel, between 
 the stones of which grows a low, thorny scrub, with here and there 
 patches of the dwarf palm, whose grey-green leaves form the only 
 variety in the widely-stretching brown and sunburnt expanse. 
 Straight in front of us, rising like a wall, towers the Safed Koh 
 range, some 11,000 feet above us, the upper half of which is white 
 with fields of dazzling snow, resting on a base of dark pine trees 
 which sweep down the ridges until they almost reach the slope we 
 are on. 
 
 Mountains never appear their full height when looked at from 
 underneath, and there was indeed little beauty in the scene, but the 
 extent of the landscape and the solitude of the desert are very 
 grand and imposing, for, as I looked around, our little band and its 
 accompaniment of half a dozen wild-looking Turis, with their loose 
 clothes fluttering in the wind and their long-barrelled flint-locks 
 slung over their shoulders, seemed to be the only living things in 
 this vast and stony area. 
 
 The distance seemed interminable, for the horses, picking their 
 way, could not go out of a slow walk. Now we had to find a path 
 down into a narrow ravine, cut deep into the general slope, only 
 to climb up the other side — a proceeding which taxed our horses 
 severely as, half walking, half sliding, they descended in a shower 
 of stones, only to scramble up the farther bank panting with 
 the exertion.
 
 228 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 Our rise, though gradual, had been at a steady rate, and on 
 turning to look back we could see the whole of the Upper Kuram 
 basin lying open below us, the river like a silver thread stretching 
 away up the valley, backed up by the brown hills that line its 
 farther bank. 
 
 At last we seemed to he getting near the mountains, and our 
 guide pointed out a dark clump of trees in a ravine on the hillside as 
 the situation of Shakadara. On nearing this cleft we were greeted 
 by several shots, and looking towards them, saw Mir Akbar's two 
 sons with several followers, who had descended to welcome us and 
 lire a salute in our honour from their long jezciils. The usual greet- 
 ings, " Peace be with you ! " " How is your health ? " " Is your 
 father well?" "I hope you are not tired," passed, as, mounting their 
 horses, the young men guided us up the narrow boulder-filled ravine. 
 After half a mile of this, we came to a place where the ravine 
 split into two, and on the point between the two, some hundred 
 feet or so above the bed, clustered the little mud and stone Ikjuscs 
 of the village. Truly a rat-trap for the unwary to be caught in ! 
 
 As the hill rises again straight up behind the village, the only 
 approach to it is by a narrow winding path up the clitt' which is 
 formed of conglomerate, from the ravine bed below. We dismounted 
 in the ravine, and leaving our horses there in charge of one of our 
 sowjirs, walked up the zigzag path, all the villagers crowding the 
 fiat housetops to look down upon so strange a sight as the inva- 
 sion of three Sahiljs. At the tumble-down wooden gate of the 
 village stood the holy man himself, surrounded by his rough- 
 looking followers — a dignified handsome man in flowing robes, 
 with a full Ijrown beard. Xothing could have l^een more courteous 
 than his manner, and he led us through tlie narrow, nniddy alleys 
 between the dilapidated sheds which in this country answer to the 
 name of houses, with all the grace of a grand seigneur bowing you 
 tlirough his domain and chateau. ]\Iany were the compliments 
 paid to each other l)y ]\Ierk and Mir Akbar, in true Oriental 
 politeness, as we made our way througli the little streets and
 
 CHAP. V A VISIT TO SHAKADARA 229 
 
 courts to the great man's house, which in no respect differed from 
 the other hovels of the village. 
 
 Arrived at the courtyard, three rough native beds were placed 
 for us to sit on, but the heat of the sun soon made us pull them 
 into a sort of open shed which formed one side of the building. 
 Here carpets were spread before us, and we sat in state, all the 
 little courtyard before us full of wild-looking fellows squatting on 
 the ground, while children in all states of cUshahilU and rags 
 swarmed about everywhere and clambered up on to the roofs of 
 the houses round to get a better view of the proceedings. ]Mir 
 Akbdr and his sons of course sat on the carpet nearest to us, and 
 the conversation was carried on between Merk and them, while 
 Dallas kindly interpreted the chief points for my benefit. The 
 people were greatly excited and the conversation was animated, for 
 that very morning shortly before our arrival the Chakmannis, a 
 clan living over the mountain, had raided down and carried off* a 
 lad who was shepherding a flock at no great distance from the 
 village — a fact which was somewhat gruesomely impressed on us 
 by the mournful wailing of his poor mother, which continued most 
 of the time we were in Shakadara. 
 
 Merk had drilled us in the coming events, by telling us that, 
 we should have to partake of Mir Akbar's hospitality, that we 
 would probably be very ill after it, and that if by some good for- 
 tune the indigestion should cause us to eructate, we should not 
 hide our faces in shame but fearlessly pay Mir Akbar that greatest 
 compliment to the excellence of his cooking ! So after the usual 
 asseverations on our part that we did not want any food, we yielded 
 to Mir Akbar's pressing, and passed into a dark windowless room, 
 where some carpets were again spread ; and wdiile we three sat on a 
 bedstead on one side, the holy man sat on the ground opposite, 
 his two sons attending on us. First some tea was brought to us in 
 little Eussian cups — dreadfully sweet stuff, diluted with a large 
 quantity of goat's milk which only our long and hot ride enabled us 
 to gulp down. Then, with nnich pressing that we would do him the
 
 230 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 honour to eat something in his house, Mir Akbar beckoned to a 
 follower, who brought some water in a long-necked brass Persian 
 vessel, and we, coached by Merk, held out our right hands over a 
 basin, while the servant poured some water over them. 
 
 This was evidently the grace before meals. 
 
 One of the sons then passed backwards and forwards into the 
 women's apartments, where the food was being cooked, taking good 
 care to squeeze himself through as narrow a space as possible and 
 to close the door at once. I don't know whether it was to prevent 
 our being captivated, or out of fear of the women losing their hearts 
 by a stray glance, that all sight of them was thus denied to us. 
 With many whisperings, however, some eight or ten big trays of 
 brass were passed in, and set upon the carpet before us, each loaded 
 up with eatables. In the centre a huge pile a foot high of pillau — 
 a dish composed of greasy rice, boiled chicken, almonds and raisins 
 — was laid ; then trays of curries, trays of vegetables swimming in 
 butter, and several of sweetmeats, and one strange compound of 
 some sort of grain mixed up with honey and butter, not at all bad 
 in spite of its deadly appearance. A dish of kabobs also appeared 
 — long thin sticks of wood with little lumps of roasted mutton 
 and fat alternately strung upon them — and last but not least, an 
 immense cone of snow, looking like the top of Sikaram itself, was 
 placed before us. All these dishes, though not at all bad to taste, 
 were, owing to their richness, eminently qualified to give us that 
 indigestion that was to express our full hearts, as well as stomachs, 
 to our excellent host. 
 
 Our difficulties commenced with the opening of the repast. 
 Without knife, fork, spoon, or plate, we were asked to use our right 
 hands only, for it is bad manners to touch food with one's left. 
 To break myself in, I began with the kabobs, which were easy 
 enough, for Mir Akbi'ir, with many expressions of goodwill, held 
 the stick towards me, off which I pulled the lumps of meat and 
 put them into my mouth ; but the moral courage required to plunge 
 one's hand first into some honey, then into some curry, with now
 
 CHAP. V AN ORIENTAL DINNER 231 
 
 and then a dip into the snow and the buttery vegetables, was al- 
 most more than we could command without flinching. However, 
 we floundered on, stuffing our mouths with whatever came to hand, 
 to hide our laughter from the grave Turis sitting opposite to us, 
 but all the time feeling convinced that the man who can eat greasy 
 rice with his fingers, without depositing the greater part of it on 
 his best shirt-front, not to mention up the sleeve of his coat, may 
 consider himself a juggler of the highest order. Luckily we found 
 salvation in the Pathan bread that was handed to us, big flat brown 
 cakes, which we used as plate, spoon, and table-napkin in turn. 
 
 The meal at last over, fresh water was brought and poured over 
 our hands, very ineffectually cleansing them from the greasy traces, 
 while tea was again handed round. We felt quite sorry that our 
 poor friends opposite could touch nothing of this lavish feast, but 
 this being the month of Eamazan, in which the Eoza is kept, no 
 good Mohammedan can allow any meat or drink to pass his lips 
 from sunrise to sunset — often a very trying thing in this hot 
 country with the frequent long marches.^ 
 
 The floor was then cleared, and the servants brought in and 
 laid before us a pile of stufts — Kabul coats, silk brocades (some of 
 them handsome enough), two dried ourial skins from the Safed 
 Koh, and an old brass helmet, formerly used by the Afghan cavalry. 
 These Mir Akbar, with many apologies for the poorness of his 
 offering, begged us to accept — a thing which of course Merk, 
 with many compliments as to their unheard-of beauty, declined ; 
 but I, not being officially employed, was allowed to carry off as a 
 souvenir the old brass helmet and a pair of ourial horns. 
 
 The crowd outside, in the meantime, was growing anxious to 
 satisfy their curiosity, and were with difficulty kept back from 
 the door, while Mir Akbar whispered to Merk his plans for 
 
 ^ It was a curious sight a few weeks later, when travelling by rail in India, to 
 see the train empty itself at the first station we stopped at after the sun had set. 
 The water-carrier was almost mobbed by the thirsty Mussulmans in their endeavour 
 to quench their thirst after the long day's fast.
 
 232 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE tart ii 
 
 making a raid upon the Chaknuinnis in order to avenge the boy's 
 deatli, and a scheme was drawn up by which, with the assistance 
 of some guns and ammunition from us, he was to carry war into 
 the enemy's country. 
 
 Then we were again taken round all the points of view in the 
 village, the distant Kuram river far down below us glittering 
 like a silver thread in the afternoon sun. Having taken a 
 photograph of Mir Akbar, I told him that in England people would 
 look at his picture, and I would point out to them, " This is the 
 great Mir Akbar of Shakadara " ; to which he replied that my 
 condescension was great, that he was my slave, that all I saw was 
 mine — houses, land, and men. Eather an embarrassing possession 
 to have suddenly thrust upon one. 
 
 As we made our way down the cliff we stopped repeatedly, in 
 true Oriental fashion, to beg him not to come any farther, while 
 he on his side expressed the impossibility of seeing us go off alone ; 
 and so with many compliments we mounted our horses and rode 
 away, accompanied for a mile or two by his sons, whom we at last 
 persuaded to return to their home. 
 
 We heard afterwards that the very next morning a party of 
 Chakmannis, no doubt in retaliation for our visit to Shakadara, 
 came over the mountain, and after shooting dead a wretched wood- 
 cutter, who had wandered from the village, and badly wounding 
 another with their knives, had escaped over the pass again before 
 the Shakadara people could organise a pui'suit ! Such is the 
 respect for life in this country ! 
 
 It was getting dusk before we got down to the river again and 
 struck the track up the valley ; and there was just light enough 
 for us to have a smart gallop over the stones after a fox which 
 Victor, Dallas's little fox-terrier, put up before us. A few miles 
 along the road brought us into camp at Sultan, where the fires 
 were already lighting up the dark figures grouped around them, 
 and the night sentries paced to and fro before our tents, 
 
 Xext morning, to our regret, an orderly galloped in with a
 
 IP 
 
 r 

 
 CHAP. V DECOY DUCKS 233 
 
 message to Merk which necessitated his starting back at once 
 to Bilandkhel, to arrange about the withdrawal of our troops from 
 there, as the Amir had at last agreed to leave that dreary spot 
 alone in peace. So he turned his steps back, while Dallas and I, 
 taking our guns, proceeded to wade through the flooded rice fields 
 all day in search of snipe. These terraced fields are won from 
 the great stony desert by little irrigation cuts, taken from the 
 river all down its course, and afford a delightful contrast to the 
 great brown waste all around. An amusing feature all along the 
 river are the numberless small ponds, made by raising a little dam 
 and filling the space with water from an irrigation channel. In 
 these ponds the water is about a foot deep, and nearly every one 
 of them has its group or two of wild ducks upon it. These are 
 most cleverly and naturally made by the people. A tiny mound of 
 earth is made in the pond, just reaching to the water's level ; on 
 this a flat, grey, oval stone from the river is laid for the duck's 
 breast, a little brown mud is then smeared upon it for the back, into 
 which a stick with a cow-dung head upon it is stuck, while a tail 
 of the same material is pinched up into that perky look so peculiar 
 to the mallard. The position and grouping of these ducks, often 
 half hidden in the rushes, is so wonderfully realistic, that though 
 almost every pond has its group, one can never look at them 
 without a momentary inclination to put one's gun to one's shoulder. 
 The people use them as decoys, and in the early morning from 
 behind the banks lie pointiii.u their long flint-locks at the unwary 
 wild birds, who have dropped from their flight overhead to join 
 their less active fellows sitting on the water. With a prolonged 
 " fiz " and a bang, some fifteen square junks of lead are scattered 
 across the pond, and the eager " sportsman " splashes through the 
 shallow water to pick up his spoil. 
 
 These long jezails or flint-lock muskets, by the way, are curious 
 things, and in this country of no arts have received, in common 
 with other arms, the only attempt at decoration that there is to 
 be found. The curiously-bent stocks have often a Persian pattern
 
 234 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 PART II 
 
 of brass and mother-of-pearl inlaid into them, while bands of 
 silver ornament the barrel. Strangely enough, the flint-locks all 
 have the ancient Government mark of a crown and a figure upon 
 them, and without doubt most of those now in use all over 
 Afghanistan began their lives in the Peninsular campaign and at 
 Waterloo, and drifted to our army in India, where, on the intro- 
 duction of the Enfield rifle, they were sold to the natives, who 
 
 AN OLD "brown BESS ' LOCK IN A NEW SETTING 
 
 picked out the locks and adapted them to their own long-l)arrelled 
 weapons. The pistol barrels, too, are in many cases really 
 beautifully inlaid with silver, and are handed down from father to 
 son as the most valuable possessions. 
 
 We made our way leisurely up the river, shooting on most 
 days, until we came to the village of Ahmedzai, where we had the 
 pleasure of meeting the Shahzada again. He was here settling 
 some cases in conjunction with Syud Abbas, the leader of the 
 Drewandi faction of Turis, and as we made our way through the 
 village gate they both came out to meet us, Syud Abbas doing us 
 the honours of his village, and taking us to his house, which, 
 ha\'ing been formerly built as the residence of the Afghan governor 
 of the day, was the only one which I saw in all Kuram that had 
 any pretensions to architecture, though here too there was an utter 
 absence of what we consider comfort. The Shahzada was, as usual, 
 most kind about helping me to get photographs of the people, and
 
 lliu SliHhzada 
 
 Syud Abbas 
 
 AT THE GATE OF AHMEDZAI 
 
 J-r
 
 CHAP. V SYUD ABBAS 235 
 
 to him I am indebted much in this way. The \dllagers became 
 quite interested in the process, and a look through the camera 
 at their friends caused unbounded astonishment and dehght, and 
 with many a laugh and a joke, they willingly grouped themselves 
 into as " unphotographical " positions as I could suggest to them. 
 
 We were now right in the middle of Upper Kuram — a wdde, 
 stony, treeless basin some fifteen miles across, along the south 
 edge of which the Kuram rivei' runs, leaving the rest a gentle 
 slope up to the foot of the great Safed Koh range. There is, in 
 truth, nothing beautiful or picturesque in this country ; everything, 
 like its inhabitants, has a hard and rough look. The vast stretches 
 of barren waterless country so far outweigh the little patches of 
 irrigated cultivation, that the general impression one gets of 
 " Central Asia " is inhospitable in the extreme ; while the snowy 
 range, cold, dreary, and uninhabited, here blocking in all the 
 northern side, is only softened when the long rays of the setting 
 sun suffuse its hard bleakness with pink and opal streaks. This 
 is essentially the home of the Turis, and Syud Abbas, though 
 somewhat sleepy-looking, is a fitting leader of the clan. He is 
 the best tent-pegger in Kuram, and in one of the fights with 
 Chikkai he went out under fire, to bring in one of his wounded 
 men, with a courage that would have earned him a V.C. in our 
 service. 
 
 Shut in thus as they are on all sides by Nature, cut off from 
 all their Sunni neighbours in religion, they have been thrown 
 much upon themselves ; and in spite of their private feuds and the 
 detestable Mian Muri'd-Drewandi discord, they are much more 
 to each other than to their surrounding neighbours. They are 
 not connected with any other tribes like the A\''azirs or the 
 Afridis are, for they can look to no other clan with a common 
 ancestor for sympathy and aid. Though life is gi^■en and taken 
 with great recklessness it is true, yet for a Pathan people there is 
 far less of the tenacious bloodthirstiness and morose fanaticism 
 than is to be found amongst the clans to the north of them : while
 
 236 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 amongst themselves they are kindly and hospitable, ready for a 
 joke, as easily pleased as angered, and their open and easy nature 
 is in strong contrast to that of their surrounding Sunni neighbours. 
 
 Unlike the Sunnis', too, are their religious observances. The 
 call to prayer is seldom heard in a Turi village, and tliey use the 
 few mosques they possess rather as rest-houses than places of 
 worship. Kerbela and not Mecca is the object of their pilgrimages, 
 and in the place of fanaticism and intolerance they have a distinct 
 leaning towards Christians, owing to the well-known fact of a 
 Christian ambassador from the Byzantine Emperor to the Arabs 
 having l:)een killed at the battle of Kerbela while fighting on the 
 side of the sons of Ali, the beloved ancestor of the Shias. This 
 Christian martyr is even to this day extolled in the sermons of 
 the Syuds during the Mohurram before the weeping crowds, the 
 earnestness of whose lamentations for Hassan and Hussein is 
 frequently sliown by the bleeding backs of the men and the 
 inflamed faces of the women — self-torture inflicted in their 
 religious enthusiasm. 
 
 To us they were friendly in the extreme, and there is no doubt 
 that Syud Abbas realises that only benefits can come from the 
 British occupation of the valley, which has given them peace, with- 
 out, thanks to the new and popular form of administration, taking 
 away from them any of their cherished customs or institutions. 
 
 The only strangers we met in these parts were several large 
 caravans of the nomad Ghilzais, who visit Kuram every winter, 
 passing through it in the autumn and spring. They bring their 
 flocks down to the valley to escape the cold on the higher ground, 
 and thus have become in a way the vassals of their Turi lords. 
 Each section, in return for their lord's protection and permission to 
 graze over his lands, renders him service of various kinds, which has 
 become fixed through long custom — ma;- be the payment of a 
 certain quantity of dry curds, or one per cent of the flock, or a 
 donkey-load of wool. 
 
 These Ghilzais are an Afghan tribe ' vvhose origin seems rather
 
 CHAP. V THE GHILZAIS 237 
 
 doubtful ; but from the fact that Kilichi is the Turki. word for 
 swordsman, it is probable that they were the mercenaries of the 
 old kings of Ghazni, who, intermarrying with Afghan women, 
 founded the tribe of Ghilzais. Ibn Batuta, a traveller in the 12th 
 century, mentions that he found a nomad tribe, called Ghaluji, 
 speaking Turki in the neighbourhood of Ghazni, and to this day 
 the official Afghan way of writing the name of the Ghilzai tribe is 
 Ghaleji, so that likely enough this theory is a correct one. 
 
 One day, out shooting, a number of them passed me, and I got 
 my Turi guard to ask them to stop, as I wished to photograph 
 them ; but they were rather turbulent and impatient, and mostly 
 refused to wait, no doubt considering that this performance was 
 not included in their vassal service to the Turis. Wild, pictur- 
 esque-looking men and women they were, with numbers of ragged 
 children of all sizes playing about like young kids amongst the 
 donkeys heavily laden with the family goods. 
 
 In this caravan, too, I saw an instance of maternal affection on 
 the part of an old she-donkey, who, in addition to an immense 
 bundle on her back, carried also her few-days-old progeny. The 
 little fellow, scarcely able to walk, had been stuck into one of the 
 folds of her pack by her master, from out of which his black woolly 
 head and long soft ears peeped in the most interested way on the 
 new world around him, while his fond mother continually bent 
 her head round as she walked along, to lick his white nose and to 
 reassure herself of his safety. 
 
 My time in Kuram was now drawing to a close, and I wished 
 to push on to Shalozan and Peiwar before turning my steps down 
 the valley. On the following day, therefore. Captain Dallas and 
 I, accompanied by the Shahzada and Syud Abbas, started from 
 Ahmedzai to ride to Shalozan — a distance of some thirteen miles, 
 across as dreary a waste as it has ever been my lot to see ; for, on 
 leaving the river behind, not a blade of grass is to be observed 
 until the little dark patch of fruit-trees at Shaloz;in, seen from 
 so many miles otf, has l)een reached. Still the great circle of
 
 238 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 mountains around is impressive. Straight in front, now close to 
 us, towers the snowy peak of Srkaram some 10,000 feet above us, 
 being the extreme left-hand peak of the long white range, almost 
 as lofty as himself, that stretches far away to the right. To our 
 left a long spur runs from Sikaram himself in bold outline right 
 down to the river, and it is across this spur that the road to Kabul 
 passes over the Peiwar Kotal, where General Roberts fought his 
 celebrated battle in 1878. It is to avoid the long detour of the 
 river that the road crosses this pass and joins the valley again 
 beyond at Ali Khel, and to this position the Afghans had retired 
 on the advance of our force up the valley in that year. Naturally 
 a strong one, where in a short two miles the track rises 2000 feet 
 to the top of the pass, the Afghans had strengthened the position by 
 placing their guns cleverly on the spurs, and filling the pine-woods 
 which lined either side of the ravine with their sharp-shooters. From 
 six o'clock in the morning until past one o'clock in the day General 
 Cobbe attacked this position in front, without being able to make 
 any impression upon it ; and it was only owing to General Roberts' 
 clever turning movement that the Afghans, finding themselves 
 threatened in the rear, retired and allowed the pass to be occupied. 
 General Roberts had led four regiments during the night up the 
 stony Spin Gawai ravine, which leads to a gap in the crest between 
 the Peiwar Kotal and the steep slopes of Sikaram. The Afghans 
 had fortified and occupied this pass also, but were surprised m the 
 dark cold December morning by the sudden appearance of the 5th 
 Gurkhas and 72nd Highlanders, who, after a tiresome and difficult 
 night march, clambered up the steep mountain-side unnoticed, 
 until they were within some fifty yards of the first Afghan picket 
 lining a breast-work of fallen trees. A short and sharp fight in the 
 dark drove the enemy from stockade to stockade, and by the time 
 that the grey dawn broke, our troops had gained the crest and 
 driven the Afghans into the surrounding woods. General Roberts, 
 after a rest, pushed his men on down the ravine towards Ali Khel, 
 thus getting behind the Peiwar Kotal, whereupon the Afghans,
 

 
 CHAP. V PEIWAR KOTAL 239 
 
 finding their position there untenable, retired. Thus it was in 
 the Spin Gawai ravine that the battle of the Peiwar Kotal was 
 fought and won. 
 
 As we rode across the open waste towards Shalozan, the village 
 of Peiwar, some five miles off at the foot of the gap in the ridge, 
 was lit up by the sun's rays, and it was with much regret that I 
 was unable to obtain permission to ride up to the top of the pass ; 
 but just at this time our relations with the Amir were rather 
 strained owing to the Bilandkhel affair, and it was considered 
 advisable not to come into contact with the outpost of his troops 
 which held the summit.
 
 CHAPTEE Vr 
 
 It was with one of those wonderful surprises which are 
 common enough in the East that w^e rode into Shalozan, stepping 
 out of the dry desert into a lovely English coppice in spring. The 
 village, unKke all others we had seen, without walls, lies scattered 
 in a long bower of trees, which are fed by the life-giving water that 
 here comes rushing in a torrent straight down from the snows of 
 Sikaram. Every lane is the bed of a little stream, which is diverted 
 here and there into the green orchards with fruit-trees of all sorts 
 — walnuts festooned with vines, almond trees bursting forth in 
 all the beauty of their pinlv blossoms, peaches and plums ; while 
 through the brown winter leaves that cover the ground sprout 
 up the launches of blue violets and little wild red and yellow 
 tulips.^ 
 
 We rode up through the village accompanied by a number of 
 the inhabitants, and soon found our camp — which, as usual, had 
 been sent on ahead with a guard of twenty sepoys — pitched in a 
 delightful g-rove of walnuts, while all around stood the Turis 
 watching with great curiosity the wondrous details of a Sahibs' 
 camp, often encroaching until they were driven off by the impatient 
 soldiers. 
 
 It was like finding oneself in a new world, and it is no wonder 
 that Shalozan has got the name of the Garden of Kuram. On a 
 hot summer's day it must truly be a retreat for the weary, and 
 
 ^ Tulipa dellata.

 
 CHAP. VI THE GARDEN OF KURAM 241 
 
 even now, though the weather was still cold, we felt sheltered 
 from the wind by the dense growth of trees. 
 
 Lying as it does in the very north-west corner of Kuram, 
 Shalozan is protected from its enemies on all sides, except the 
 south, by the huge uninhabited mountains that rise immediately 
 behind it, and it has consequently a less warlike appearance than 
 any other place in the valley ; while to the south the open desert 
 stretches away to the Kuram river, and would give ample notice 
 of any advancing foe. The climate, though cold in winter, is 
 delightful, for it is sheltered from the bitter winds that blow 
 down the valley, while its height above the sea (6000 feet) will 
 always prevent its summer heat from being too oppressive. No 
 wonder that all through Afghanistan its praises are sung, not only 
 for its natural beauties, but also for its fair women. 
 
 Sang i Maulana, ab i Zeran, 
 
 Bad i Kuram, dukhtar i Shalozan,^ 
 
 as the saying here is for the noteworthy things in the valley. 
 The Amirs of Kabul — which, as the crow flies, is only fifty-five 
 miles off — have always been accustomed to get the fairest members 
 of their harems from here, the present Amir himself being the 
 grandson of a woman of this village. 
 
 Some day this will no doubt be one of the most popular hill- 
 stations of the Punjab, while with better communications and the 
 spread of irrigation an immense quantity of fruit will be able to 
 be carried down to the dwellers in the hot plains below. The 
 latitude is only a little to the south of that of Malta, and the 
 climate is such that any English fruit will grow here to perfection, 
 with the addition of the best of grapes. 
 
 We had another reminder of England next day in the con- 
 tinued rain that fell without ceasing, sweeping down from the 
 cloud-wreathed mountains above until our little camp was nearly 
 
 ^ stone of Maulana, stream of Zeran, 
 Wind of Kuram, daughters of Shalozan. 
 R
 
 242 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 flooded out, which set all the men to the work of digging trenches 
 round the tents in the vain attempt to get rid of the water. I 
 spent the day in writing, but towards evening Dallas and I were 
 able to get out for a walk through the lanes all running with 
 water, and to gather Imnches of violets from under the dripping 
 trees. The Turis evidently appreciate flowers, for every young lad 
 who imagined that he had charms enough to captivate a lady-love, 
 added to them by sticking a bunch of the little red and yellow 
 tulips in his turban. 
 
 Next morning we, accompanied by the leading men and a 
 motley retinue of hangers-on, went out to see, and were first led 
 up tlie hillside to the Ziurat or Saint's Tomb — a poor little 
 building in itself, but with a beautiful view over the flat-topped 
 houses of the village embowered in the mass of trees, to the vast 
 plain of the Kuram valley stretching away down to Sangina some 
 thirty miles distant. 
 
 Then we retraced our steps and were led mto the bazar, the 
 Eegent Street of Shalozan. These were the only " shops " we had 
 seen in Kuram, and consisted merely of open sheds. Xeither was 
 there much variety in them, for they were all making the same 
 things — guns, the only saleable commodity apparently in this 
 warlike country. 
 
 It was interesting to see the men at work. The finished article, 
 when lying on the gTound at a few yards' distance, had every 
 appearance of the Enfield rifle, from which it was copied ; but on 
 taking it up, the crude sunplicity of the work could be fully realised : 
 the metal was roughly hammered into shape and then scratched 
 over with a file. The barrels were made in short lengths of about a 
 foot; a square iron rod being wrapped round a central mandrel, which 
 was then withdrawn and the whole heated and roughly welded. 
 Three or four of these tubes were then joined together, but as they 
 had no tool to bore out the l^arrel, a square rimer was inserted, 
 which, being turned round, scraped oft' any too prominent lumps 
 on the inner surface ! Still every detail of the English rifle, from
 
 ip^
 
 CHAP. VI NAINU'S PURCHASE 243 
 
 the sights to the sling loops, was as carefully imitated as their 
 coarse tools would allow them. The price asked for these guns 
 was five Kabuli rupees or four Indian ones ! 
 
 Nainu was enchanted. He had at last found something to 
 stir his admiration. " Sahib," he whispered to me, " never have I 
 seen such beautiful rifles and so cheap ! If the Protector of the 
 Poor would only grant his permission ? No, Sahib, the police in 
 Hindustan will not take it away from me : see, the Sahib shall say 
 that it is his rifle ; and when I come to Dehra I will take it to my 
 village in the Tiri state, and all men will envy me. The Sahib 
 says that these rifles are bad and will go broken ; but see, there is 
 a man here who has one which has already killed three men, which 
 he will give for only six rupees " ! " Very well, my dear Nainu ; but 
 if you ever fire it off I can assure you that it will kill a fourtli " ; 
 and accepting this feeble joke as my consent, he duly brought the 
 murderous weapon to my tent that evening. Nainu, by the way, 
 nearly got locked up, a week or two after this, for firing this 
 blunderbuss near the camp at Sangina without the commanding 
 oflicer's permission ! 
 
 From the bazar we went to the school, where some thirty boys 
 and men were gathered together under a teacher sent up by j\Ierk 
 at the request of the Turis a month before. 
 
 Up to this time the only means of education open to the Turis 
 consisted in frequenting the mosques, and spelling out the Koran in 
 a monotonous sing-song voice — a sight which is to be seen in every 
 Mohammedan village, where the shrill droning of these " Seekers 
 after Knowledge," as they are called, sounds almost like a swarm of 
 locusts ; but already the new order has begun, and here we found in 
 a shed, scarcely, however, worthy of a London board -school, the boys 
 sitting round their master, an eager-looking young Mohammedan 
 from Peshawur. He evidently had his hands full, for the Turi boys 
 were not accustomed to much discipline, but crowded round us 
 without the slightest shyness, eager to show off their proficiency. 
 
 A bed was brought and we sat down, Dallas beginning the
 
 244 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 examination. The show boys were trotted out, and read fluently 
 out of illustrated picture-books (supplied from India) simple Persian 
 tales — for Persian is the French of Central Asia and the official 
 language in Afghanistan, just as Hindustani is the official language 
 in British territory. 
 
 Then the small boys brought out their Hindustani books, getting 
 through their pages with but little stumbling, the teacher telling 
 us that he had no complaint to make on the score of their dullness. 
 After this we tried arithmetic. They had no slates, only pieces 
 of wood chalked over, on which they wrote the Persian figures 
 with a stick of charcoal, and did sums of addition and subtrac- 
 tion for our edification. The whole gave one the impression of 
 great quickness of mind in these sharp little fellows, who looked 
 quite turbulent enough, when not occupied with their books, to 
 have made things very uncomfortable for any one who crossed 
 them. 
 
 I was anxious to give them some money for prizes, but the 
 teacher begged us not to do so, for he explained that they would 
 fight bitterly for the possession of it after school, having as yet 
 evidently no respect for the trial by competitive examination. 
 So a sheep was bought, and divided amongst these young wolves, 
 on the principle that what they had eaten, could alone not be taken 
 from them by force. 
 
 There is a magnificent clump of chinars, or Oriental planes, in 
 Shalozan — really immense trees. Dotted about the valley, nearly 
 every village has its chinar, which has the same sort of character 
 as the pepul tree has to the Hindu. They are generally planted by 
 the side of an irrigation cut, and grow into stately shapes, it being 
 considered wicked to cut them in any way. As we stood under this 
 big clump, Syud Abbas, pointing to the broken bough above our 
 heads (which can be seen in the photograph), told us the story of 
 his father, Badshah Gul's, death. Two years before, his father was 
 staying at the house of a friend where a drooping limb of a chinar 
 had grown so as to cause every one to stoop on entering. Badshah
 
 CHAP. VI SHALOZAN PLANE TREES 245 
 
 Gill, being a practical man and not given to superstition, got per- 
 mission to cut it off, and thus was able to enter the house without 
 bowing his proud head. Three weeks afterwards, as he was sitting 
 in council with the elders of Shalozan under these big trees, suddenly 
 without warning the heavy branch above, breaking off, fell crash- 
 ing down on Badshah Gul, killing him on the spot. A strange 
 coincidence, which naturally confirmed the devout Turis in their 
 respect for the chinars. 
 
 I had come now as far as British influence had made itself 
 felt, and as April was now well advanced, I had to think about 
 getting back to India ; so with many regrets at having to leave 
 this charming spot, Dallas and I mounted our ponies one morning 
 and rode through the flowering orchards out on to the great bare 
 stony flat. We had given orders for the camp to march down the 
 valley direct to Shoblan, while we ourselves with a few men, instead 
 of going back to the river as we had come, kept along close under 
 the Safed Koh. The whole force of the Kuram wind was blowing 
 this day. Though we had our sheepskin posti'ns on all day and 
 there was never a tree to shade us from the burning sun, the bitter 
 cold wind seemed almost to whistle through us. The men felt it 
 intensely, many losing the skin off their faces, and Nainu registered 
 this as one of the many black days in this wicked country. 
 
 The Safed Koh rises straight up here on our left without any 
 intervening ridges, and the face of the range is only broken by deep 
 ravines and gullies which cut through the scanty pine-woods on 
 the lower slopes. At the mouths of these short valleys, where the 
 streams issue, villages have been built to take advantage of the 
 water, and the ground around is cultivated. Maulana is the first 
 passed, nestling in its little bower of trees, and some miles farther 
 on, Zenin. In winter-time all intercourse with the other side 
 of the Safed Koh is stopped, but in summer communication is 
 not unfrequent between Kuram and Ningrahar, the name of the 
 Afghan country on the other side of the passes. The shepherds 
 who then drive their flocks up the narrow paths are ready guides
 
 246 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 to the few travellers wishing to make their way to Jellalabad, l3ut, as 
 usual in this country, no merchant could make this journey unless 
 conducted by friends who, no doubt in return for an ample con- 
 sideration, would insure him against pillage and robbery by the 
 numerous border raiders. As on the Scottish Borders in the old 
 days, the people on both sides of this great range are acquainted 
 with each other, and though remaining outwardly friends, are always 
 ready to make a foray if the chances of lifting a flock or two are 
 favourable, and fortune favours the strong in this country. 
 
 The villages of Zeran, surrounded too by their fruit-trees, are 
 prettily situated at the mouth of a glen, out of which flows an 
 excellent stream. I tried in vain to take some photographs this 
 day, but the wind was so strong that I feared to put my camera 
 up, lest it should be blown away. Up on the Safed Koh above us, 
 great wreaths of snow, like clouds of smoke, were blown from 
 every peak ; and we hurried on to Shobhin, glad at last to get into 
 the shelter of our cosy tents, which were pitched under the lee of 
 the high mud village wall. 
 
 Here we were delighted to meet Merk again, who, having 
 settled matters with the Kabul Khel Wazi'rs near Bilandkhel, 
 had hurried back to Upper Kurani, in order to settle the site of 
 the new cantonment and fort which are to be the headquarters of 
 our future force occupying the valley. 
 
 He agreed to come with us for an excursion to Kirman, a 
 valley running out of the Saf^d Koh a few miles to the north of 
 us. "We were anxious to see if we could discover any traces of the 
 former occupation of the valley by the early Mohammedan con- 
 querors, who in the tenth century established a mint here, many 
 coins being found in this neighbourhood with the impress of the 
 Kirman mint upon them in the letters KRMX — from which we 
 gathered that in those early days it must have been a place of 
 great importance. 
 
 "VVe shifted camp next morning to the picturesque little fort-like 
 village of Tezdna, in a basin of the hills, above which the snow
 
 CHAP. VI RUINS AT KIRMAN 247 
 
 peaks shone out clear in the nioniing sun. A ride of a few miles 
 up the narrow valley brought us to the edge of the Chaknianni 
 confines, and dismounting, we were carried across the rushing 
 little torrent on the broad backs of our Turis. After a steep climb 
 for half an hour over the huge boulders, we reached a knoll, which 
 the natives pointed out as the site of a place they had heard was 
 once famous. 
 
 The ground was covered with huge boulders, which lay here 
 only rather more thickly than on the other slopes of the hill ; 
 but on one side of the knoll there stood the remains of a wall of 
 immense stones carefully dressed and laid upon each other, very 
 much of the same character as the ruins we had previously visited 
 farther down the valley opposite Alizai. Whether these ruins 
 had any connection with the era of the Kirman mint it is im- 
 possible to say, but it is difficult to imagine how any prosperous 
 collection of human habitations could ever have existed in such an 
 inhospitable and out-of-the-way spot. 
 
 On our way back to camp we passed under the picturesque, 
 border village of Kanda, which, perched on a rock over the river, 
 is typical of the unsettled state of the country. Across the face of 
 the cliff on which it stands, the water is carried in wooden troughs 
 to irrigate a little flat patch of ground that has been won from 
 the surrounding rocks, and which provides a scanty sustenance to 
 the villagers above. The other object of interest here is the Ziarat 
 or Shrine of Fakhr-i-iilam, a holy man who received this title of 
 the "Pride of the World" as a reward for his good deeds. It prob- 
 ably is the oldest building in Kuram, and has most likely stood 
 for over 600 years — a long time in a country where the constant 
 lootings and burnings of successive conquerors destroy all trace 
 of permanency in buildings. 
 
 It is one of the very few pieces of architecture in Kuram, and 
 even as such is poor in design and execution. The inner dome is 
 hidden by a flat roof that has been built round it, and the frescoes 
 with which it is ornamented are more Hindu in design than
 
 248 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 Mohammedan, and are somewhat crude in colouring. The whole is 
 in that dilapidated condition which is almost universal in the case 
 of monuments in the East, and which is partly due to a religious 
 dislike to altering a sacred building in any way, and more to 
 the general flourishing condition of the local " anti-restoration 
 societies." 
 
 Tliis shrine, being the oldest and certainly the most ornamental 
 in Kuram, ought, if the people had any religious inclination in 
 this way, to have had at least the same attention paid to it as the 
 Hindu temples in India have to theirs ; but as a matter of fact it 
 has a dead-world look, and the old mullah with his long white 
 beard who received us, looked more like a hermit than the priest 
 of a living religion. He did not seem to have any objection to my 
 wandering about with my camera, and even himself stood im- 
 movable at the gate of the shrine for a most unconscionably long 
 exposure, which the setting sun obliged me to give ! A fine old Scotch 
 fir, and the rushing water of an irrigation channel just outside the 
 gate, before which stood a spreading walnut tree, ga^'e a picturesque 
 look to the otherwise forlorn appearance of the place ; while the 
 group of people who by this time had flocked out of the little 
 walled village near to watch our movements, gave an animation 
 to the scene which it lacked on our arrival. 
 
 If the Parsi's can satisfy themselves with sun-worship, surely 
 this would have been the country to start a rehgion of the water- 
 god ; for this commodity is the source and fountain of all nourish- 
 ment, as well as of all beauty, and it alone supphes the food for the 
 people, as well as the grateful shade under which they can sit to 
 eat it. 
 
 However, pleasant as was the rushing water of Kirman with 
 its copses of blossoming fruit-trees and green terraces, happy as 
 was the companionship of the kind friends whose little camp I was 
 sharing, yet my free time had drawn to its close, and next morning 
 my plans compelled me to ride off alone across the open desert, 
 which in some twenty miles would Ijriug me back to Sangina.
 
 CHAP. VI LAST DAYS 249 
 
 Nainu had already started back, taking all my baggage with him 
 under an escort that was going down to Thull ; and I had given him 
 instructions to meet me at Khushalgarh railway-station on the 
 Indus, some 150 miles distant. He was quite incapable of getting 
 there by himself, I knew, but Merk most kindly sent one of his 
 orderlies with him, in whose hands I could safely leave everything. 
 The Assistant Commissioner had been written to, to have two ekhas 
 sent to Thull for the use of Nainu, the orderly, and the baggage, 
 and in these they were to proceed via Hangu and Kohat to 
 Khushalgarh — stages of thirty-eight, twenty-six, and thirty-one 
 miles respectively ; and as I had given them three days from Thull 
 to accomplish this in, I expected to overtake them at Khushalgarh 
 in time to catch the train that leaves there at nine o'clock in the 
 morning for Eawal Pindi. By travelling down with the mail the 
 whole way from Sangina, I could thus do in two and a half days 
 what would take them five, an arrangement that, besides giving me 
 three more days in Kuram, took me over the rough part of the 
 journey in the shortest time — a thing always to be desired. 
 
 So the last evening came, and as Merk and I, sitting wrapped 
 in our sheepskin postms in his comfortable little Kabul tent, 
 imbibed our after-dinner whisky and water, we drank to our 
 happy past and the successful future of the Kuram valley. If it 
 has lived through some troublous times, surely a bright future is 
 before it now that it has come definitely under British influence. 
 India is a great collection of countries and races. The wisdom and 
 resource of the governors of India have often been tried, but it is 
 with pride that one can say that they have never yet been found 
 wanting. The fact that such utterly different types of the human 
 race as the Burman, the Eajput, the Sikh, and the Tamil, the 
 Bengali and the Pathan all flourish and thrive under one beneficent 
 administration, is a proof, which needs no words to emphasise it, 
 that the system of government is as sound as the men are able who 
 carry it out. Force and elasticity are its watchwords. The just 
 appreciation of the fact that it is the duty of the white race to
 
 250 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 spread its superior civilisation, is the driving power. In the East, 
 where from time immemorial the weak have been oppressed l)y the 
 strong, it is absolutely necessary for the Government, if it wishes to 
 be just, to be the strongest of all. The elasticity is found in the 
 capacity the English rulers have always shown in working on the 
 spot, with the best tools they can command ; and, while bearing 
 in mind the high end they have in view, they have always with 
 ready resource adapted the rules and the regulations to the wholly 
 different conditions in which their work may lie. The Government 
 thus sits far above all these different peoples, holding the scales of 
 justice equally above all. Long may it be before we abdicate this 
 position, won with such noble labour. " India for the Indians " 
 has a plausible sound to some minds, but before this can be realised 
 the lion must be taught to lie down with the lamb, the Pathan 
 with the Bengali, and the Sikh with the Burnian — a consummation 
 devoutly to be wished for, no doubt, but which even a blind man 
 can see is still far remote. 
 
 I was up early in the glorious morning, which still had little 
 of the softness of spring about it, and soon had my limited kit 
 packed. Merk was going to move camp that day, for he was off to 
 inspect the site of the new station at Parachinar, just below 
 Maulana, so the sound of packing was going on all round. Tent- 
 pegs were being knocked out of the hard ground, and tents folded 
 up ; the baggage-mules squealed their remonstrances to the loading, 
 while the camels groaned and gurgled as each huge bundle was 
 thrown across them by the guard; every one was busy getting 
 ready to start. As I stand with Merk exchanging a few last 
 words the servants bring us our revolvers, the native ofi&cer conies 
 to announce that my sowars are ready, and at last with another 
 hearty farewell to Merk, I ride off with my two men of the 5th 
 Punjab Cavalry, and am soon out of sight as I descend into the 
 wide stony bed of the Kirman stream. There are no hedges or 
 ditches in this country to stop you, so I rode in a straight line 
 across the stony flat, bearing rather to the right, until in some
 
 CHAP. VI SANGINA AGAIN 251 
 
 miles I joined the road running along the river, down which I kept 
 for some distance, till I reached a ford at the village of Yaki'ibi, 
 which took me to the Sangina side of the river and saved me a mile 
 or two's detour by the bridge below the camp. The narrow and 
 rough track leads on this side of the river over some wild rocky 
 and broken ground, till you suddenly drop out of a little ravine 
 on to the upper end of the camp. It was about three o'clock when 
 I got in, hot and thirsty, and on riding up to the politicals' tents, 
 I found Dallas sitting in judgment, but not too busy to come to 
 my assistance. 
 
 We walked together down to the other end of the camp, wliere 
 the post-office babu reigned supreme in the tent that did duty fur 
 receiving and despatching Her Majesty's mails. A dak ekha had 
 been started on the Thull- Sangina road, and I was to share its 
 fortunes to-morrow with the driver, so the seat was " booked for 
 His Honour," as the babu officially noted, and I had time for a last 
 walk down to the parade-ground, where the football was again in 
 full swing. 
 
 A last dinner in the mess of the ho^itable 2nd P.L, and with 
 many thanks on my part and good wislies on theirs, I stumbled in 
 the dark through the innumerable tent - ropes to the " palace," 
 where the political sentry — one of the new Turi militiamen — duly 
 challenged. He seemed quite happy that he had done his duty in 
 accomplishing thus much, for I never heard any one answer him, 
 and he never pursued the argument any farther ! 
 
 The sun had not risen over the hill next morning when Dallas' 
 Servant came and called me, and after a somewhat hasty toilet, I 
 swallowed some tea and bundled my scanty wardrobe into my 
 valise, which we carried down to the place where the ekha was 
 standing ready. A couple of Turi sowars, sitting bunched up on 
 their ragged ponies to keep out the cold, with nothing but the 
 muzzles of their Sniders appearing out of their voluminous wraps, 
 stood by ready to escort us. With a farewell wave to Dallas and 
 a fiendish blast of a bugle from the driver, Her Majesty's mails got
 
 252 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 under weigh, and soon we were rolling and pitching over the stony- 
 billows and earthy hollows. However, a dak ekha is an instrument 
 of torture that spares neither age nor sex, and as I was in for 
 thirty-eight miles of it before I could get out at Thull, there was 
 nothing for it but to sit well down in the saddle. 
 
 The hot sun came over the hill as we clattered past Sadda and 
 continued straight down the valley past the familiar snipe jhil and 
 the towers of Darani village. The road is passable when it follows 
 the terraced earthen ground, it is endurable when the pony climbs 
 the stony hillside at a walking pace, but when gravity and the 
 driver's whip compel the machine down a slope of small boulders at 
 
 PISTOL WITH SILVER-INLAID BARREL 
 
 about nine miles an hour, body and soul can scarcely^ hold together. 
 I remained conscious as far as Alizai, the " half-way house," where 
 we changed ekhas, and where the kind old Shahzada had come to 
 bid me farewell. He was working in this part of the valley, and 
 hearing that I was coming down, had waited to meet me. I was glad 
 to have the opportunity of seeing him again, and of thanking him 
 for his many kindnesses to me. Knowing my taste for curiosities, 
 he brought me a pistol beautifully inlaid on the Ijarrel with silver, 
 as a specimen of the work of the valley. With the exception of 
 these inlaid pistols and the jezails, which from their long l^arrels 
 and curved stocks are curiosities, there is little or nothing of 
 interest to be brought away from Kuram. It is possible that the 
 women have silver jewels of some sort, but as these are only made
 
 CHAP. VI A ROUGH DRIVE 253 
 
 to order, one never has an opportunity of seeing them anywhere. 
 I took the precaution of getting a Turi to discharge the pistol at a 
 safe distance from me, for, needless to say, every weapon is kept 
 loaded in this country where they may be needed at any moment. 
 After stretching my cramped legs before Alizai, and bidding a 
 hearty farewell to the Prince, I climbed into my box again and we 
 proceeded. I will draw a kindly veil over the rest of this drive, 
 and only mention that I was in a terribly bruised condition of mind 
 and body when we drove at last into the camp at Thull and I was 
 greeted by my Bilandkhel friends, who had moved up here and 
 were now encamped under the walls of the fort pending further 
 developments. 
 
 Colonel Brownlow very kindly allowed me the use of a tent of 
 his for the night, where I turned in thankfully after a pleasant 
 dinner at the mess. I heard here, rather to my dismay, that 
 owing to the ekhas not having been sent up from Kohat in time, 
 Nainu had left Thull only that very morning ! So I looked for- 
 ward to picking them up on the road, especially as, owing to 
 some late showers, the earthen track was very sticky. 
 
 I was still in my tent at half-past four next morning, hastily 
 swallowing some eggs that Colonel Brownlow's servant brought 
 me by the light of a candle, when the dak bugler, standing beside 
 the fort above, blew his mournful blasts into the cold grey morning 
 to call my attention to the fact that he was ready. It was not 
 much past five when I stumbled in the dusk across the wide dry 
 stony bed of the river, which lay between the camp and the fort, and 
 clambered up the steep bank to where the dak driver stood, a 
 black silhouette against the lighter sky. After yesterday's ex- 
 perience this Thull-Kohat road seemed like a billiard-table, and, 
 taught by bitter experience, I had learnt the positions in which rest 
 could be found for a few moments, and religiously adopted each in 
 succession. 
 
 It is wonderful how these rough ekha ponies get over the 
 ground, and travelling with the mail-bags in this way, you change
 
 254 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 ekhas every twelve miles — a journey that seems nothing to them. 
 By eleven o'clock I had done thirty-eight miles, and drove up to 
 Hanjru dclk bungalow in tune for a late breakfast ; and, after an 
 hour's rest there, started again and reached Koliat, twenty-six miles 
 farther on, by three o'clock. At Hangu I heard that Nainu and the 
 baggage had spent the night there, and had started on some four 
 or five hours before I reached it ; and, to my delight, I found on my 
 arrival at Kohat that they were not there, so tliat they must l)e 
 still ahead of me. 
 
 The mail tonga, the strong, low, two-wheeled cart of India, 
 drawn by a pair of horses abreast, only leaves Kohat bungalow at 
 four o'clock in the morning to catch the nine o'clock train at 
 Khushalgarh on the Indus, so that I could throw myself on a bed for 
 a good sleep before going on again. A visit overnight to the post- 
 office had secured my place in the tonga, and as I had telegraphed 
 on to the bungalow at Khushalgarh to have breakfast ready for 
 me, I had nothing to do next morning but to get up at the blast 
 of the dilk bugle and grope my way to the tonga which stood at 
 the door. 
 
 I have heard that ice yachting is exciting, and the -nearest 
 thing I can imagine to it is a tonga drive on a dark morning, with- 
 out lights and with a pair of good, jibbing, galloping ponies. After 
 the usual preliminary difficulties about getting the ponies to start, 
 we sailed down the broad Kohat road at a furious gallop. The 
 white gate pillars of the bungalows could just be made out as we 
 dashed by in the dark ; the noise of the tonga, the pole of which 
 Ijy the jerking cracked the pole chains in time to the ponies' strides, 
 made it impossible to hear anything. Driving there was none : the 
 ponies knew the road, and knew that they had to go five miles to 
 their stopping-place, and they ivcnt, never for a moment slacken- 
 ing the pace. The driver, powerless to guide or control his steeds, 
 spent all his energies in prolonged blasts on his bugle, which, 
 with the thunder of the tonga, effectually scared every Living thmg 
 off' the road, so that the course was clear, and nothing checked us
 
 *^ .^-ii' ♦■v,r■ 
 
 
 y . ^ . t 
 
 
 ; ,t. i! 
 
 ■\ ' ;:
 
 CHAP. VI A TONGA RECORD 255 
 
 until the ponies stopped dead, and we realised that another five 
 miles was over ; a new pair of ponies being brought out to repeat 
 this performance over and over again. In one of these mad gallops 
 I became aware that we had got off' the road in the dark, and were 
 taking a short cut across country ; but the pace never slackened 
 for a moment, and by some good fortune we were still right side 
 uppermost when the ring of the ponies' feet on the hard metalled 
 track announced that we had found our way on to the road again. 
 
 The grey still day was breaking over the hot dry land as we 
 neared the low line of hills which borders the Indus at a distance 
 of some five miles, and reached a large village, where we again 
 changed ponies. Up to this point, some fifteen miles from Kohat, 
 we had raced two ekhas with four natives on each, who had kept 
 company with us the whole way ! We galloped past them when 
 once under weigh, but during the few minutes that we halted 
 to change horses their brave ponies invariably passed us again, 
 bowling along at a hard swinging trot. When we drove off from the 
 village the owners of the plucky little beasts were walking them 
 up and down to cool them, as is their custom always on finishing 
 a journey. 
 
 A long ascent through these low red treeless hills at only a 
 slightly diminished pace brought us to the top of the rise, and 
 away before us stretched the almost limitless plains of India, which 
 faded away into the haze that presaged the scorching heat of the 
 coming day. The Indus itself could not be made out, for it runs 
 here in a deep, narrow bed. I had promised the driver an addition 
 to his wages if we got in in time for breakfast, and he certainly 
 intended to earn it, as we raced down the long five miles to the 
 river. The road is kept in splendid order, and we swept along at 
 a royal speed. It was exactly seven o'clock when we pulled up at 
 the Khushalgarh bungalow, having left Kohat at twenty minutes 
 past four — thirty-one miles in two hours and forty minutes. The 
 Kohatis pride themselves on their tonga service, but I think they 
 cannot often do better than this.
 
 256 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE part ii 
 
 After a good rest and a well-earned breakfast we made our way 
 down the river, which here flows in a deep and narrow channel with 
 high, steep, red-earth banks. A most curious-looking place. The 
 mud houses of the village high up on the right bank, the little 
 railway -station on the same level on the opposite shore, with the 
 great bridge of boats spanning the river deep down between them ; 
 the huge steel hawsers that strengthen the bridge, stretched 
 from cliff to cliff, looking like spiders' webs hung across the abyss. 
 
 The tonga rumbled slowly down the zigzag road to the water, 
 and then across the creaking, swaying bridge, past the huge country 
 carts drawn by the patient bullocks, and up to the station standing 
 in the desert on the other side. On the platform stood Nainu and 
 Ghunni the orderly, salaming and smiling. " How on earth did 
 you get here, Xainu ? " " It was the Sahib's orders that we should 
 be here ; all the baggage is safe." Each pony had drawn an ekha, 
 two men, and a hundredweight of baggage ninety-five miles in 
 two days ! 
 
 Nainu was in delight at seeing a train again. "Sahib, that 
 Kuram is a bad country and the people are altogether wicked. 
 Never more will we visit it. Sahib. Last night even, as we were 
 passing a village, the ponies going very slow, for they were very 
 tired, the budmashes came out and threw stones at us, hoping to 
 drive us away ; but Ghunni fired quickly with his rifle at them, and 
 they fled." " How many men were killed in the battle, Nainu ? " 
 " Nay, Sahib, do not laugh, it was no battle ; but what I say is 
 true talk : the people of this country are altogether bad men and 
 wicked " ; and with that he proceeded to stow my baggage into 
 the raihvay-carriage, with the complacent satisfaction that he was 
 at last on his way home again. 
 
 The engine whistles and the train drags itself slowly out into 
 the burning desert, and as we sit in this comfortable product of 
 nineteenth-century civilisation, rumbling back towards "India" 
 with its teeming millions, we have time to think over the wild 
 media; val highlanders that we have only just left behind.
 
 INDIA AGAIN 
 
 257 
 
 Here my journey, as far as the reader is concerned, is over. 
 Smart soldierly Pindi, the hot stifling days at Lahore throbbing 
 with its countless life, Delhi in May surrounded by its fiery plains 
 — all these belong to another story. It is only hoped that this short 
 description of two valleys less frequently visited by travellers may 
 have some interest, as showing only one of the many contrasts 
 that meet the eye, the ear, and the brain in that great empire of 
 ours we know as India. How superficial is this account of these 
 two peoples no one knows better than the author ; but he will feel 
 more than rewarded if he has enabled those who are obliged to 
 stay in England, to gain in however slight a measure, a clearer 
 insight into that vast dependency, the safety as well as the peace 
 and progress of which depends ultimately upon their intelligent 
 appreciation of their responsibilities. 
 
 KURAM SILVER AMl'LET
 
 APPENDIX A 
 
 The following photographic notes, it is hoped, may be of use to those 
 who wish to take their camera with them to distant countries. 
 
 „.„ The first consideration must always be the size of the 
 
 plate to be used. The more certain a man is in his results, 
 the larger the plate he can take, naturally will give him the finest picture. 
 It is worth while, for instance, for Signor Sella, whose most exquisite 
 Alpine photographs so far surpass all others, to take with him to the 
 Caucasus 120 15x12 plates, for he knows he will bring back 120 good 
 negatives, and the extra weight and difiiculty of carriage involved in using 
 these large plates is amply repaid by the perfection of the result. I would, 
 then, always advise any one aiming at high results to take with him the 
 largest plates that he can ; and the size of his plates will depend then, first 
 upon his confidence in himself to produce good results, and secondly upon 
 the equally important question of carriage. 
 
 ^ . In journeys oft' the beaten track one's means of transport 
 
 always consist of either mule carriage or kulis, and the loads 
 have often to be made up so that they are capable of being carried either 
 by one or the other as they may offer. A mule in the Himalayas will carry 
 160 lbs., and a kuli 50 lbs., the former costing 12 annas a day (say Is.), while 
 the latter are paid 4, 5, or 6 annas a day, according to the length of the march. 
 Mules, consequently, are rather cheaper, and as they are hired fur a fixed 
 period, they relieve one of the daily bother of engaging kulis. Against these 
 advantages you have to set the facts that the mule can go only where there is 
 a mule road ; secondly, that you carry many more of the precious eggs in one 
 basket ; and, thirdly, that on the rough hill paths kuli carriage is mucli 
 safer than mule carriage. Never once did I see any of tlie wild hill men 
 ever falter or stumble on the worst of paths, and his load on his back was 
 as carefully carried as himself ; w'aereas the frequent siglit of the string of 
 mules staggering down a steep hillside, bumping their loads against over- 
 hanging rocks, plunging over the slippery boulders as they fonled the stream 
 and scrambling in rushes up the stony opposite bank, was a picture that 
 often made one tremble for the fate of one's plates.
 
 260 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 -r,.. Many will say, Why not avoid all this by carrying cellu- 
 
 loid films instead of glass plates \ and I must confess that, 
 after my own experience, I find it extremely difhcult to give any definite 
 reason, except that I fancy, and it may be only a fancy, that on the whole there 
 is less liability to error in working with glass jjlates. My experience in this trip 
 was confined to six dozen films and eighteen dozen plates. The weight of the 
 former is 4 lbs., the weight of six dozen of the latter 27 lbs. The films require 
 no packing : they are most easily taken out of their envelopes one by one, as 
 required, exposed, and put back with the same ease ; whereas the hours spent 
 by night in one's tent after a long day's march, taking plates out of the 
 slides, numbering, packing away in their paper wrapping and boxes, unpack- 
 ing the fresh plates (which are always required in broken numbers), and 
 filling the slides, will never be forgotten. It used to take me two hours to 
 get this properly done, and yet, in spite of all this, when it comes to 
 developing the negative in the dark room, I am always hopeful of better 
 results from a plate than from a film. The chief practical difficulty with a 
 film is the want of a really' good film-carrier which, while simple and easy 
 to use, will keep the film absolutely flat. After searching in vain for this in 
 London, I went without any carrier, simply trusting to the dryness of the 
 Indian air to keep the emulsion side of the film concave, while a thin sheet 
 of wood backing (such as was formerly used in Eastman paper negative-carriers) 
 nij)ped the edges of the film against the rebates of the slide and pressed it 
 flat. A detail must, however, here be noted — that the single spring, as fitted 
 to most metal dividing flaps of the dark slides, must be removed, as its 
 pressure will bulge out the thin wood backing and the film in the centre, 
 and springs on each edge, to press against the rebate of the slide, must be 
 substituted. 
 
 This arrangement Avill answer in a dry climate with sizes up to whole- 
 plate, though, in spite of special care being given to putting the films in 
 quite flat, two or three of my film negatives were much sjjoilt owing to the 
 buckling of the film throwing certain portions of the emulsion out of focus. 
 I used glass plates as a rule for the most difficult and delicate scenes, and the 
 films (which were more rapid) for strong and close subjects ; and, though I 
 fancied that the films were less successful in the difficult subjects, yet I must 
 admit that many of them are quite as beautiful in detail and delicacy as 
 those on glass, and, given a good film-carrier, there ought to be no reason 
 why a well-coated film should not equal a well-coated glass plate. 
 
 The size of the plates that I took was whole-plate ; perhaps the most 
 suitable all-round size, though, as I said before, I regret sometimes, in view 
 of the negatives that I brought back, that I did not take a larger size. 
 
 The number of plates to be carried is the next considera- 
 (^ucmti y oj ^-^j^^ J jjjg^jg ^ rough guess, and took with me two gross — 
 one gross of Wratten's ordinary (a plate which never fails in 
 its high standard of excellence for all landscape work), and half a gross each 
 of Edwards's XL (orange label) celluloid films and Edwards's XL plates. 
 I used the latter for all figure and close subjects, it being a j^late to which 
 I had always been accustomed, and of which I never had any cause to com-
 
 APPENDIX A 261 
 
 plain. This was a rough guess, but it turned out fairly correct, as of the lot, 
 only one dozen Wratten's were broken while being carried on a mule, and one 
 dozen of each kind were left in India on my return, I not having required 
 them. I found that, though in the Himalayas I took pictures of every- 
 thing that I thought would be interesting, to give a complete idea of the 
 country, the number of plates I exposed in one day never exceeded eight, 
 and the average over three months' marching was under two a day. 
 
 ~ I will now endeavour to give some idea of the details of the 
 
 kit I used, and which, speaking from experience, I may say I 
 found complete in every respect. I took a whole-plate camera of Chapman's 
 (Manchester), which I have had in continual use for eight years, having used 
 it out yachting in Scotland, in the plains of Italy, and in the mountains of 
 Switzerland. It is of the simplest construction, having no especial struts, 
 and is not brass-bound, and, though it will not carry a heavy lens when racked 
 out to eighteen inches in a high wind (what camera will ?), yet not one single 
 picture of the 250 I have taken in India has been spoilt by any break-down 
 or shake in the camera or its three double-backs. The camera design has 
 one fault, in that the bellows do not rise and fall with the rising front, and 
 in extreme cases the corners of the picture are cut off when a wide-angle 
 lens is used. AVhen, however, one has to put up and take down the camera 
 so constantly on the march, simplicity and absence of all fancy springs, 
 stays, and screws are the things one values most, providing no efficiency is 
 .sacrificed thereby. Certainly this camera, with its three double-backs, speaks 
 well for the soundness of first-class English work, lieing still practically as 
 good as new, while it has never in any way been repaired since I had it. 
 
 „,. , The only addition I made to my kit was to get three more 
 
 double slides, numbered from 7 to 12, which fitted tight into 
 a tin velvet-lined box. This Avas carried by my gun-bearer, always slung over 
 one shoulder by a strap, and was only used to contain Edwards's rapid 
 plates or films, the slow plates always being in slides 1 to 6 in the camera-case. 
 I was thus always ready for either landscape or figure subject as it came. 
 
 „, , On a march of this kind the portability of the camera legs 
 
 is not a necessity. Before leaving London I looked every- 
 where for a strong, simple set of legs, with a single sliding joint. Not finding 
 anything suitable, I fell back on my old ones, which, though theoretically 
 weak, yet were strong enough to stand the keen winds on the high passes 
 without shaking. The legs were always carried ready fixed to the triangle, 
 with their joints slid in to reduce them to half their length, the whole being 
 carried on the top of the camera-case as it rested knapsack-like on the man's 
 back. In this way I could erect the legs at once, put on the camera, and I 
 found from eight to ten minutes' halt was all that was necessary to get a picture. 
 
 T Of lenses I took three — an eight-and-a-half-inch focus 
 
 Dallmeyer landscape, a twelve-inch Eoss's rapid synnuetrical, 
 and an eighteen-inch Swift's landscape. All were fitted with carriers to go 
 into the same flange on the camera front, and all were bayonet-jointed, so 
 that they required only a quarter turn to screw them home. Much as wide- 
 angle lenses destroy the artistic sense of a picture, the eight-and-a-half-inch
 
 262 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 lens is a necessity for all mountainous countries. The angles from the heights 
 to the depths are so enormous, that frequently one can get no picture on one's 
 plate at all unless a wide angle is included. The rapid symmetrical remains 
 the most useful all-round lens, and a long-focus 18-inch lens enables you to 
 take many a beautiful and effective picture of distant mountains, embracing 
 as it does an angle much more nearly resembling that which is taken in by 
 one's eyes. All my lenses were fitted with iris diaphragms, and the slight 
 extra expense will be amply i"epaid in the saving of time these little con- 
 veniences effect. I used a shutter of my own making, but any time-and- 
 instantaneous shutter, such as Thornton-Pickard's, w'ill do, though without 
 doubt it is an advantage to have one's shutter behind the lens. Each lens was 
 carried in a little chamois leather bag, difierently coloured, so that the men, in 
 opening the camera-case, were always able to hand me out the one I required. 
 
 „ ■ riT ,1 Last, but not least, comes the focussing cloth, which should 
 
 Focussing Cloth. . „,.',. , .' ,,.,., ° , .' ,. 
 
 be of tiim white mackintosh, lined with some thin non-slippery 
 
 cloth. The white colour keeps off the great heat of the sun's rays at high 
 altitudes, and often prevents the heating of the camera and condensing of the 
 damp on the cold lens. The mackintosh is an excellent cover to the camera, 
 and, if buttons and loops are sewn on the front edges, in rainy weather the kuli 
 can take it out of the camera-case, and throwing it over the whole knapsack, 
 can, by buttoning it in front round his neck, use it as a complete waterproof 
 for the camera-case on his back and himself. 
 
 Weialt "^^^^ whole kit in the camera-case, including the six plates 
 
 and the camera legs, made uj) a load of 23 lbs., which is a fair 
 weight for a man who marches behind you all day. The other three double- 
 backs, filled, in their tin case, weighed 7 lbs., and were, as mentioned above, 
 carried by my gun-bearer. Both these men were permanently engaged, and 
 became soon experts at helping me to set up and pack away the camera, the 
 gun-bearer going even so far as to pick up an idea of posing the villagers 
 naturally in the picture — always a work of some difficulty, for, needless to say, 
 the natives' idea is always to stand in a row, at attention, facing the camera. 
 In no country, however, are figure subjects easier than in India ; the patience 
 of the natives far exceeds one's own, and they \vill stand any length of time 
 immovable if carefully posed. Even with the w'ilder Pathans across the 
 frontier, I had no difficult}' in photographing either them or their villages ; 
 they seemed only surprised that the operation was over so soon, and a peep 
 through the camera, under the focussing cloth, was the greatest reward to them. 
 Vieir-Vier ^ made for myself a small view -meter, consisting of a 
 
 small frame of brass, the opening of which was in the pro- 
 portion of 8| to 6|. Through, and at right angles to the longest side, ran 
 a stiff" well -fitting brass wire, the end of which was held against the bone 
 just under the eye. By sliding the frame along the wire, which was marked 
 in three places for the three lenses I used, the different angle on the land- 
 scape which each lens would embrace was shown at a glance, so that, by the 
 time the camera was on its legs, I knew which lens would be required. 
 This view-meter I always carried loose in my pocket, and I found it an 
 invaluable time-saver.
 
 APPENDIX A 263 
 
 p ■, . For tlie sea journey to India all my plates were packed as 
 
 the boxes came from the makers, on edge, in two tin-lined cases, 
 each holding about nine dozen plates. This kept the weight of each case 
 down to 50 lbs. I made a depoc of these in India, and took wath me on the 
 march as many plates as I required, packing some four or five of the makers' 
 boxes in each yakdan, or wooden mule-trunk, filling the intervening spaces 
 with clothes. By keeping the weight of each yakdan below 50 lbs. it can 
 either be carried by a kuli or by mule. The most important packing was, 
 however, the repacking after exposure. In order to be quite safe in this 
 respect, I had prepared, at the kind suggestion of Signor Sella, whose great 
 experience in the Caucasus made his advice invaluable, a number of whole- 
 plate cut sheets of Rives's plain paper. These were dipped in a weak solu- 
 tion of Nelson's gelatine, in w^hich enough chromate of alum was mixed to 
 render the solution a pale greenish colour. The solution must be weak enough 
 not to glaze the paper when dry. Exposed plates, packed face to face with 
 this paper between them, will keep an indefinite time, and those I have ex- 
 posed six months ago when unpacked develop as freshly as if only just exposed. 
 It is a long business packing away exposed plates. It is most difficult to 
 get a dozen Wratten's plates, with all their paper wrappers, back into the 
 cardboard boxes again. It can be done, however, and it is worth while 
 expending every effort to pack the exposed plates carefully once for all. A 
 grooved light-tight wooden box, to hold one dozen plates, will be found the 
 greatest help, so that a whole dozen may be opened at once, worked through 
 the slides as required, numbered, and put back into the box. As soon as the 
 w'hole dozen is worked through, repack all of them, at one operation, 
 into their cardboard boxes. If only one rapidity of plate is carried, one 
 wooden box will suffice ; but each rapidity of plate requires its own box, which 
 had better, for convenience' sake, be painted a different colour. I wrapped 
 each cardboard box, when thus filled with a dozen exposed plates, in brown 
 paper, and then in a sheet of that most excellent Indian Momjiima (cheap 
 waxed calico, bought in every bazar), which is a good waterproof. Each dozen 
 plates had a label on the outside of the box, with the numbers corresponding 
 to those in the exposure-book. I had no difficulty, in this way, in finding 
 those that I wished to develop first. Finally, on my return to India from 
 across the border, I packed all the boxes of exposed plates again in the tin- 
 lined cases in which they came out, and, for safety's sake, inclosed each of these 
 small heavy cases in a larger packing-case, hay being well stuffed between 
 the two. 
 
 I will conclude with this advice. Aim at uniformity of result, which 
 can only be acquired by constant attention to the smallest details. Nothing 
 is so disheartening as the discovery on development, that the most wisheil 
 for negative has been spoilt through some trifling neglect or other. Secondly, 
 let those who go out to bring back a series of photographs of a new country 
 not confine their pictures only to the prettiest subjects, but endeavour to 
 take every landscape that is characteristic, even though it be ugly. For 
 instance, all Central Asia (including in this Afghanistan and our own north- 
 west frontier) is a vast barren, stony desert, in which, here and there where
 
 264 LIGHTS AND SHADES OF HILL LIFE 
 
 there is irrigation, you find green and fertile valleys, cultivation, fruit-trees 
 of all sorts, many of which bowers remind you of an English coppice. One 
 is tempted to pick out these refreshing Itits, to leave alone the twenty miles' 
 march over the barren, stony waste, and so bring back to England a number 
 of pictures which convey the idea that Central Asia is a veritable Garden of 
 Eden. In landscapes, as often as possible, get some of the natives of the 
 country to make a foreground, making them look away from the camera, and 
 stand or sit in their natural attitudes. A group of such figures will always 
 localise a picture, add the human interest, and throw back the distance in 
 your landscajje by making a bold foreground. 
 
 Nothing can add to the interest of travel so much as the \vise use of a 
 camera. It makes you observe so much more the characteristics of the 
 country ; it takes you oft' the beaten track in search of something more 
 novel ; it is an excellent passport into native villages and corners, for, 
 children-like, they are all interested in the " picture man," and in return for 
 a few kind words they do all they can to ofter assistance ; and, finally, it is 
 the best school of all for patience, without which a photographer is no 
 photographer.
 
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 APPENDIX C 
 
 The following kit was found necessary for one person on a six weeks' march 
 into the Himalayas, and may perhaps serve as a guide to others ; — 
 
 2 homespun Norfolk 
 
 jackets. 
 
 1 pair of slippers. 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 knitted Cardigan. 
 
 1 helmet. 
 
 
 
 1 sailor's blue knitted jersey. 
 
 2 cloth caps. 
 
 
 
 3 white flannel shirts, with collars. 
 
 1 thick overcoat. 
 
 
 
 3 pairs of flannel trousers. 
 
 1 mackintosh cape. 
 
 
 
 4 merino jerseys. 
 
 4 blankets. 
 
 
 
 6 pairs of woollen socks. 
 
 1 pillow. 
 
 
 
 3 pairs of cotton socks. 
 
 1 waterproof sheet, to cover 
 
 aedding. 
 
 2 pairs of putties. 
 
 4 towels. 
 
 
 
 2 pairs of boots. 
 
 Sponge, brush, shaving kit, soaf 
 
 , belt, 
 
 1 pair of tennis shoes. 
 
 writing materials, looking-g 
 
 ass. 
 
 The following stores were taken fo 
 
 r one person : — 
 
 
 
 Bread 10 loaves 
 
 Cheese 
 
 
 1 tin 
 
 Onions 
 
 
 
 2 seers 
 
 Kopp beef-tea 
 
 
 
 
 4 Lins 
 
 Potatoes 
 
 
 
 12 ,, 
 
 Corn-flour . 
 
 
 
 
 1 tin 
 
 Rice 
 
 
 
 12 ,, 
 
 Cocoa . 
 
 
 
 
 2 tins 
 
 Flour . 
 
 
 
 10 ,, 
 
 Sago . 
 
 
 
 
 1 tin 
 
 Sugar . 
 
 
 
 5 ,, 
 
 Corned beef . 
 
 
 
 
 3 tins 
 
 Tea 
 
 
 
 n „ 
 
 Mustard 
 
 
 
 
 1 tin 
 
 Soda . 
 
 
 
 1 bottle 
 
 Salt . 
 
 
 
 
 1 bottle 
 
 Biscuits 
 
 
 
 3 tins 
 
 Pepper. 
 
 
 
 Candles 
 
 
 
 4 lbs. 
 
 One salted hump of beef. 
 
 
 
 Oatmeal 
 
 
 
 3 tins 
 
 "Whisky 
 
 
 3 bottles 
 
 Butter . 
 
 
 
 1 tin 
 
 Hatchet, matches, rope, Ian 
 
 tern, sewing 
 
 Marmalade . 
 
 
 
 1 tin 
 
 things, duster, medicine, anmiunition. 
 
 Minimum number of kulis require 
 
 d for the above : — 
 
 
 
 Light drill double fly tent and some ; 
 
 3egs 
 
 1 kuli. 
 
 Servant's pal and remaining pegs . 
 
 
 1 
 
 ,j 
 
 All the tent poles and camp bed . 
 
 
 1 
 
 ,, 
 
 4 kiltas of stores, etc. 
 
 
 4 
 
 ,, 
 
 Kit and bedding . 
 
 
 1 
 
 ,, 
 
 Light wooden tub containing books, 
 
 etc., writing materials, rifle 
 
 
 
 in case 
 
 
 1 
 
 ,, 
 
 Servant's kit, hatchet, and some amn 
 
 lunition 
 
 1 
 
 " 
 
 Tindal, or hea 
 
 Iman 
 
 10 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 hikari carryir 
 Chansamah (c 
 
 g gun 
 3ok) 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 13 in all.
 
 APPENDIX D 
 
 MEDICINES FOUND TO BE MOST NEEDED 
 
 Bottle of quinine, or 5-grain quinine tabloids. 
 
 4 boxes of Cockle's pills. 
 
 1 bottle of clilorodyne. 
 
 Dover's powder in 5-grain tabloids. 
 
 Camphor, opium, and capsicum pills. 
 
 1 lb. tin of boracic acid ointment. 
 
 1 bandage, soap plaster, linen, 1 pair of scissors. 
 
 1 tin of corn-flour. 
 
 1 tin of sago.
 
 APPENDIX E 
 
 A CURIOUS instance of the strong duty that is imposed by blood feuds upon 
 the relatives of the deceased man is related by Mr. Forbes-Mitchell in his 
 interesting lieminiscences of the Mutiny. It is well known that the necessity 
 of inflicting punishment for the Cawnpore massacres during the mutiny of 
 1857 fell upon Brigadier-General Neill, who arrived upon the scene while 
 the blood of the 210 women and children still saturated the floor and the 
 walls of the house in which they were slaughtered under circumstances of 
 most flendish cruelty. The times called for a corrpspondingly severe 
 retribution, for it was General Neill's wish to show the natives, once and for 
 all, that butchers of women and children would be unrelentingly stamped 
 out by a process which should be as odious to them as their deeds were to 
 Englishmen. 
 
 Now amongst those who were caught at Cawnpore was one Safar Ali, of 
 the 2nd Regiment of light cavalry. He was tried by General Neill's orders, 
 found guilty of participating in the massacre, and before he was hanged, 
 was compelled under the lash to clean up a portion of the floor which he 
 had stained with innocent blood. On the gallows Safar Ali adjured every 
 Mussulman in the crowd to carry the news of his death to his infant son, 
 Mazar Ali by name, who was in his home at Rotliak in the Punjab, and to 
 beg him to avenge his father's death on General Neill or his descendants. 
 
 The message was ap])arently never delivered. General Neill was himself 
 killed in the fighting a short time afterwards, and the matter seemed to have 
 been completely forgotten. 
 
 When the boy Mazar Ali grew up, he took service in the Central India 
 Horse, in which, by a most curious coincidence, the son of General Neill was 
 also an officer ; and the year 1887, just thirty years after the above-mentioned 
 tragic events, found Major Neill in command of his regiment at Augur, in 
 which Mazar Ali was a faithful and loyal trooj^er. 
 
 Suddenly one morning, without any apparent motive. Major Neill was 
 shot down on parade by sowar Mazar Ali. Nothing was elicited at the 
 trial of Mazar Ali, who was in due course condemned and executed for the 
 murder of his commanding officer. Since then Mr. Forbes-Mitchell, by 
 careful inquiries on the spot, has been able to ascertain that shortly before 
 the murder, Mazar Ali was visited by a fakir, or holy mendicant, who for
 
 APPENDIX E 269 
 
 the first time made him aware of Major Neill's relationship to General Neill, 
 and also communicated to him his father's dying message calling upon him to 
 avenge his death. 
 
 Mazar Ali then, overcome with his religious duty of vengeance, carried 
 out his father's injunctions in implicit obedience. 
 
 Mr. Forbes-Mitchell was able to secure also the following leaflet printed 
 in Urdu, which was circulated amongst the descendants of Safar Ali, inciting 
 them to vengeance and purposing to be Safar All's dying imprecation : — 
 
 " Mahomet Prophet, be pleased to receive into Paradise the soul of 
 your humble servant, whose body Major Bruce's Mehtur police are now 
 defiling by lashes, forced to lick a space of the blood-stained floor of the 
 slaughter-house, and hereafter to be hanged, by the order of General Neill. 
 And, Prophet, in due time inspire my infant son, Mazar Ali of Rothak, 
 that he may revenge this desecration on General Neill and his descendants." 
 
 THE END 
 
 Printed by R. & R. Clakk, Limited, Edinburgh.
 
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