1889-90-] <^ District in the Himalayas. 285 



They form the bulk of the community, and include almost all 

 those who own land and farm it. (3.) The Domes, which in- 

 cludes the tailors, shoemakers, blacksmiths, workers in the 

 iron and other mines, and, in short, everybody except the 

 priests and the agriculturists. It is quite absurd the con- 

 tempt with which Brahmins and Eajpoots look down upon 

 Domes. They actually hate and despise them. In every 

 village there are two wells, one for the Brahmins and Eaj- 

 poots, the other for the Domes ; and in olden times it was 

 a capital crime for a Dome to take water from the well 

 which belonged to the higher classes. Even yet, the Domes 

 must build their houses at a distance from the cluster of 

 Brahmin and Ptajpoot houses. Under our Government some 

 few Domes have become rich, and have built themselves good 

 houses. Seeing such a house always makes a Brahmin or 

 Eajpoot very angry. I was often told that our Government 

 spoilt the Domes, and that it was a disgrace to the British 

 Government that such wretches should be able to accumulate 

 money, and actually live in better houses than Eajpoots. 

 Physically, the Domes are inferior to the Eajpoots, and they 

 are possibly of non-Aryan origin — at all events, they have 

 less Aryan blood in their veins than the Eajpoots have. 

 Among themselves, the Eajpoot inhabitants of Gurhwal — in 

 other words, the bulk of the population — are an amiable, 

 kindly, and singularly honest race of people. Theft is almost 

 unknown, crimes of violence are rai'e, and there is very little 

 immorality. Year after year, generation after generation, they 

 plough their fields, sow and reap their rice and mandua, and 

 herd their cows, buffaloes, goats, and sheep — keeping them 

 near the village all winter, and driving them in the summer 

 to pasture in the high hills, just as is done in the Alps and 

 in N'orway. The annual migration in spring, from the village 

 near the river to the kharak on the mountain-top, and back 

 again to the village in autumn, is the great incident in Gurh- 

 wal life. It breaks the monotony, and gives a romantic 

 colour to their rural life. Nobody is fonder of flowers than 

 a Gurhwali. He is seldom seen without a flower stuck in 

 his hair above his ear ; and when herding his cattle, he is often 

 singing to himself some village song, or playing on a pipe 

 made of the rinfjal bamboo (Arundinaria falcata). There are 



