MARMAI AND ITS INHABITANTS ii 



When I arrived it was in possession of women and children 

 only — not a man was visible, and such an assortment of old 

 hags it has never been my misfortune to see together. One 

 old lady attracted the attention of my party at once ; she 

 grew a beard of which no man need have been ashamed — 

 neither was she ; the beard was dominated by a hooked 

 nose, and the furrows in her face held, I should say, a 

 century of dirt. The old woman was so much out of the 

 common that the curiosity of even my fagged coolies was 

 excited, and everyone went round the corner to have a 

 good stare at her — each returning with an amazed look 

 which dissolved in a broad grin and loud guffaw as his dull 

 comprehension grasped the sublimity of the dame's ugliness. 

 Three or four young women were comely, and, but for the 

 hereditary dirt, would have been pleasant to look at. 

 They wore a curious woollen hood, a broad metal button 

 at the point, and a loose woollen sack down to their heels. 

 This is their full costume. The dress is worn till it rots 

 away from the wearer's person — a process of denudation 

 that was in progress in the garments of the fair ones 

 before me. 



No man being visible, and time being a consideration, 

 active measures were resorted to. A burly Kashmiri 

 dakwala (letter-carrier), belonging to a gentleman shoot- 

 ing in Astur, who was accompanying my party, was most 

 useful, as former experience had familiarised him with the 

 proper modus operandi in such circumstances. He at first 

 gently appealed to the women to say where the men were : 

 they answered energetically, and in full chorus, that all 

 the adults were away ; the Makadam (head-man) had gone 

 to one village, the Kotwal (village watchman) to another. 

 The dakwala looked incredulous, but, to avoid hurting the 

 feelings of the ladies, did not express himself — he simply 

 dived into the huts and made search. He was unsuccess- 



