22 AFOOT THROUGH THE 



carried ashore to his camp, where ended for ever 

 all conflict with contrary winds and tides, and a career 

 of curious interest and conscientious effort. As I 

 returned from my late stroll, Assiza was trolling out 

 in a full, fresh voice a sad little song, pinging a dismal 

 little accompaniment of minor chords and strangely 

 broken arpeggios. 



LOVER'S LAMENT. 



I would have taken golden stars from the sky for your necklace, 

 I would have shaken rose-leaves for your rest from all the rose trees, 



And you had no need ; the short, sweet grass sufficed for your slumber, 

 And you took no heed for such trifles as gold or a necklace. 



There is an hour at twilight, too heavy for mem'ry, 



There is a flower that I fear for your hair had its fi*agranee. 



I would have squandered yoiith for you, and its hope and its promise, 

 Before you wandered careless, away from my useless passion. 



But what is the use of my speech ? since I know of no words to recall you, 

 I am praying that time may teach you your cruelty, not me forgetfuluess. 



Finding it hopeless to combat the melancholy sugges- 

 tions of the surroundings and the sad wail of my 

 retainer's music, I concluded to retire, and trust to the 

 morrow for some cheering influence. 



In the early morning my boatmen punted me across 

 to the other side of the creek, where we had been the 

 night before, past some islands with dimly-seen relics 

 of former great rulers, to a quiet little resting-place 

 beneath the village of Bandipura, now an important 

 place, being the starting-point for the Gilgit route. 

 Transport ponies are stabled here ready for the relief, 



