1889-90-] (i District in the Himalayas. 283 



village, a local poet of considerable reputation and great merit 

 was singing the praises of a lady named Dhana Barula, and 

 vowing that if she would not love him he would leave his 

 native hills and settle in Bareilly, — exactly like a Highland 

 poet threatening to leave Lochaber and go to settle in 

 Glasgow. 



Joshimut is the winter residence of the high priest of 

 Budrienath temple. Tlie temple is in the region of the eter- 

 nal snows, and has to be shut up in winter, so the high 

 priest has to go down to a palace, which stands about thirty 

 miles down the stream from the temple. The village is an 

 exceedingly beautiful one, built half-way between the river 

 and a great forest of hazel-trees {Corylus colurna), called 

 by the natives Kapasi. In the forest are quantities of the 

 beautiful Kapasi bird {Nucifraga hemispila). Like most hill- 

 men, the people of Joshimut have a good conceit of themselves 

 and their village, and are constantly quoting a rhyme, " There 

 is no water on earth like that of the Dandhara spring ; there 

 are no girls on earth like the girls of Joshimut." 



In Gurhwal, five great rivers and many smaller streams join 

 the main river, Alaknanda ; and at each of the great junctions, 

 called " preag," there is a sacred bathing-place much resorted 

 to by Hindoos, both natives of Gurhwal and pilgrims from 

 the plains. The five bathing-places are named going down 

 — Vishnupreag, Nandpreag, Kurnpreag, Euderpreag, and 

 Deopreag. The whole land is a network of big rivers, the 

 drainage coming into it from the east and west, as well as its 

 fair share from the north. In order to cross these many 

 rivers, the British have built a number of iron bridges, but 

 in most places, rivers have to be crossed by native bridges. 

 The most common of these is the jhula, which is made as 

 follows : two strong ropes are stretched across the river, and 

 a roadway is suspended from them. The traveller has to 

 walk on this roadway a long distance, with the roaring torrent 

 far below him. If he misses his foot and falls into the river, 

 he is certain to be drowned. The strongest swimmer would 

 perish in a torrent of ice-cold water, rushing along at a 

 furious pace. As a rule, if a man falls in he is never seen 

 again. The current sucks him in and he does not even once 

 rise to the surface, however good a swimmer he may be. 



