106 AFOOT THROUGH THE 



CHAPTER IX 



What is so sweet and dear 

 As a prosperous morn in May, 

 The confident prime of the day, 

 And the dauntless youth of the year, 

 When nothing that asks for bliss, 

 Asking aright is denied ; 

 And half of the world a bridegroom is, 

 And half of the world a bride ? 



W. Watson. 



A long, hot march, mitigated by many flowers and mulberries 

 I am offered food, mental and physical, by a holy man 

 Rice growing, and the benefits of widowhood The knife 

 that was lost is found, and my crew rejoice. 



AFTER my easy afternoon at Kangan I was ready to 

 start extremely early for one of the longest marches 

 that I accomplished while in Kashmir. I believed that 

 sixteen miles would have brought me to the Manasbal 

 Lake, but twenty-two was nearer the correct distance, 

 and that was the length given by the natives, who seldom 

 over-estimate marches. The first miles were passed 

 over rapidly on paths among glorious thickets of the 

 great yellow jessamine that filled the air with its heavy 

 sweetness, and bushes of hamamelis, while a rich 

 undergrowth of myriad-tinted roses scented the air 

 with their fresh aromatic smell, as different from 



