A BLOOD FEUD. 109 



plains exchanging turbans, they retired to 

 rest amongst their hosts. In the dead of 

 night they were massacred almost to a man, 

 one alone escaping to tell the tale. An old 

 man still lives in Jalah, who being a boy 

 at the time, relates the story, and adds, 

 that when the sons and relatives of those 

 who had been murdered grew up, and came 

 to man's estate, they started to avenge the 

 treacherous deed. On reaching the top of 

 the pass, one of the loftiest and most dan- 

 gerous in the Himalayas, the first man who 

 attempted to cut the snow and ice on the 

 other side to form a path, slipped and fell ; 

 the old man describes him as hanging for 

 a moment, and then shooting downwards 

 like lightning, disappearing for ever from the 

 eyes of his horror-struck companions, who 

 considering it a bad omen, turned back, 

 abandoning their design. They still talk of 

 going over, and would, I believe, do so even 

 after this lapse of years, if they had a leader 

 •upon whom they could depend. But that is 

 not likely to be the case, and I should think 



