KASHMIR VALLEYS 149 



to take me to the assistance of others in difficulty," and 

 he choked away at his little joke. " Truly the Mem- 

 sahib is adventurous, and where does she go to now ? " 

 I replied by pointing out the lake not far distant. " Rest 

 under the trees first till the sun is down; the Sahib 

 log get fever when the sun is hot. Have you heard a 

 song they sing down in the plains ? I heard it in the past 

 before I came back to rest in the Happy Valley." And 

 in curious quavering tones he chanted the following 

 song, and with an accent that showed he was no native 

 of the country : 



REGRET. 



straight white road that runs to meet 

 Across green fields the blue-green sea, 



You knew the little weary feet 

 Of my child-bride that was to be ? 



Her people brought her from the shore, 



One golden day in sultry June, 

 And I stood waiting at the door, 



Praying my eyes might see her soon. 



With eager arms wide open thrown, 



Now never to be satisfied, 

 Ere I could make my love my own, 



She closed her amber eyes and died. 



Alas ! alas ! they took no heed 



How frail she was, my little one, 

 But brought her here with cruel speed, 



Beneath the fierce, relentless sun. 



We laid her on the marriage bed, 



The bridal flowers in her hand, 

 A maiden, from the ocean led, 



Only, alas ! to die inland. 



