A TRAMP IN THE DARK 7 



It was fast growing dark, and, what was worse, the coolies 

 had not halted at Kanzalwan, but had gone on three miles 

 farther to the village of Bagtor — the birching seemed to 

 have inspired them with perpetual motion. We hurried 

 on for Bagtor, but the darkness soon obliged us to go 

 slowly, for the path in one place went over a plain so wet 

 and boggy that I floundered over it in growing ill-humour. 

 A dense forest of pines on the left increased the gloom, 

 and little rivulets of snow-water had to be jumped every 

 ten minutes : the rushing Krishganga was on the right, a 

 good distance below, and the path often led along the 

 edge of the steep slope that overhung the river. A slip, 

 and I should have rolled down to the river — perhaps into 

 it. A twinkling light in the distance was a welcome sight, 

 but it turned out to be only a pine-torch in the hands of a 

 little boy thoughtfully sent out by the good old lambardar 

 (head-man of the village) to guide me. 



We reached Basjtor at 9 p.m. The tent was behind with 

 some lagging coolies, so I spread my bedding on a thick 

 layer of hay, and something to eat and a glass of whisky 

 soon put me in good spirits. I had been on the march from 

 five in the morning, and it was now nine o'clock, so I was 

 not particular as to how I got my rest. 



Early next morning I was on the tramp again along the 

 left bank of the Krishganga, a lovely stream amid splendid 

 scenery. The whole valley looked as if it contained game, 

 from the rocky ridges above the right bank to the undulat- 

 ing slopes that fell gently to the path I travelled. Sharafa 

 informed me that the forests about Bagtor were certain 

 finds for stags during September and October. They begin 

 to " call " as they start from their summer quarters in the 

 valleys on the right bank of the river about the 15th 

 September, and take about three weeks to reach the wooded 

 slopes on the Kashmir side. The best plan is to reach 





