A DESOLATE GRAVEYARD. 63 



by a. Itlow from a bear's paw, and yet the man was still 

 alive ami well ! 



A bear rarely bites when he attacks any one, but 

 strikes with his forearm, which digging for roots, climb- 

 ing trees, &c, has endowed with tremendous muscular 

 power. The rive projecting (daws, hard and sharp as 

 steel, and some two inches long, make a frightful weapon, 

 and as he generally rises on his hind legs and strikes at 

 the face, the wound he inflicts is terrible, even if death 

 does not immediately ensue. 



We continue our way through rice fields, till we pass 

 the last little village in the Chingam valley, and then, 

 after a short ascent, stop for the night at a most beautiful 

 camping ground, entirely shut in by mountains. But in 

 spite of its beauty by day, it is rather an eerie spot after 

 dark. There is only a deserted cowshed near, the habita- 

 tion of the herdsmen during the summer months. But 

 they bury their dead around, and, strolling about at 

 twilight, I came on a tiny graveyard just above our tents. 

 And these Mussulman tombs are so desolate ! Just a 

 rough shape of earth with a bit of rock to-mark the head, 

 and a few sticks laid around. There is no wall or en- 

 closure of any kind, and when one suddenly comes on 

 a little grave-heap in these wild desolate ravines, it in- 

 voluntarily evokes thoughts of murders, suicides, and their 

 attendant ghosts. 



