94 RIFLE AND SPEAR WITH THE RAJPOOTS. 



We stopped for luncheon in a little garden where there 

 was a large orange tree covered with yellow fruit, although 

 white traces of last night's frost still remain in the 

 shade. Here we change coolies, and all down the mountain 

 side we hear a wild sort of singsong call for the others to 

 come in. 



The irritation from the spear grass was intolerable. 

 Our clothes were full of sharp points, and my homespun 

 spats studded with little spear-heads much as a porcupine 

 carries its quills. I was very glad to sit wrapped in an 

 ulster, whilst the ayah did her best to pull what looked 

 like hundreds of fine needles out of the garments in which 

 I had been walking. 



Further on we cross a river ; and waiting on the bridge 

 find a poor man dragging himself along on his hands, and 

 quite unable to walk. He told us that during the summer 

 he was out on the mountains herding sheep, and slept with 

 his family in one of the lean-to shanties supported by big 

 trunks of trees, which the shepherds build on the hill-side. 

 This fell in during the night, killing one of his children, 

 and injuring his own leg. Alan thinks he has broken the 

 thigh. The poor fellow had been waiting for us here since 

 yesterday. He heard a sahib was coming, and hoped to 

 get some medicine to cure him. It was so dreadful to 

 be unable to do anything. There is a hospital at Chamba, 

 and we offered to have him carried there, but he would 



