OVER THE PIR PUNCHAL. 293 



When my trusty friend Eamzan took leave of me for the 

 last time, I think the regret was mutual, for tears filled the old 

 man's eyes as I bade him good-bye. There never lived a better 

 shikaree or cragsman in Cashmere than old Eamzan Mir. 



My return to the Punjab was over the Pir Punchal pass 

 and through the Poonch hills. This route is lovely almost 

 throughout, but perhaps the most strikingly beautiful part 

 of it lies between the villages of Poshiana and Barumgulla, 

 a distance of about eight miles, on the south side of the 

 pass. There the path leads along the bottom of a wild 

 tortuous defile, which is so narrow and rocky that the rapid 

 torrent that courses down it has to be constantly crossed 

 and recrossed by innumerable little temporary bridges formed 

 of rough tree-stems. At every turn a perfect study for an 

 artist presents itself. Not even in Canada during the " fall " 

 did I ever see anything that surpassed the harmoniously 

 blended masses of colouring which were here presented by 

 the gorgeous autumnal-tinted deciduous foliage, the dark ever- 

 green pines, and the moss and lichen covered crags on the 

 precipitous flanking heights. Here and there small cascades 

 splashed and tumbled over the rocks, and, picturesquely 

 situated close to Barumgulla, there is a really fine one, 

 with a considerable volume of water and a fall of at least 

 a hundred feet. But I am forgetting that this is now be- 

 coming a well-beaten track of tourists. 



Such as I have attempted to describe was hangul-shooting 

 at that time in Cashmere. Since then, I am told, the late 

 Maharajah Eunbeer Sing took to profusely decorating his 

 palatial halls with stags' horns. The traffic in them, too, has 

 of late years become much more extensive. And formerly, 

 when the slaughter of a bovine animal was considered a capi- 

 tal offence in Cashmere, hangul skins were used for making 

 the accoutrements of the soldiers, and this may be the case 

 even now. At all events, the deer have decreased in numbers, 

 and the sportsman may have to go farther afield to find them. 



