KASHMIR VALLEYS 45 



chagrin of the onlookers, and then mounting a tiny, 

 dainty tat with gaily-decorated saddle-cloth and saddle, 

 the high peak of which served excellently well as a 

 pommel, I wandered away under the shade of over- 

 arching trees to a forest glade some six miles away, 

 called Bawan. Soft carpet of velvety turf, countless 

 sparkling streams several of which feed a large tank 

 of sacred carp plentiful beds of watercress, giant 

 chenaar trees that gave a generous shade to all these, 



Group of Hanjis 



made up an ideal camping-ground, where, during the 

 long, hot afternoon, I rested, and one of the hanjis 

 (boatmen) trolled out songs in the old, old theme, with 

 the old, old metaphors. 



HAXJI'S LOVE SONG. 



You are my flower, and I would fain adore you 

 With love and golden gifts for all my days ; 



Burn scented oil in silver lamps before you, 



Pour perfume on your feet with prayer and praise. 



