Fourteen Thousand Feet High 199 



It was colder, and rained steadily. Striking tents in 

 wet weather is rather a miserable business, and we were 

 considerably damped, mentally and externally, by the 

 time Lalla brought up a couple of boats below our 

 island, and had had all our stores and baggage 

 stowed away in the driest places these kishties can 

 boast of. 



The particular specimen he had selected for us was 

 very second-rate, and we only accepted it at all to 

 save time. It was farewell to the ponies for a long 

 while ; as they could not stand snow and rough 

 marches, we sent them back through Murree and 

 Rawal Pindi to Mian Mir by road. I forget now 

 how many weeks it took them to cover the distance, 

 but we found them safely arrived on our own return. 



Picture us once more afloat in a doongha, making the 

 best of our way down the Jhelum to Soper. Even 

 Kashmir is not all milk and honey, and we tasted of 

 the seamy side on this occasion. The matting which 

 covered the doongha hung down low and dark ; it 

 was only possible to stand upright in the middle ; the 

 front end was open, and the rain and wind beat in. 

 It was, in fact, like sitting in a funnel, bitterly cold. 

 We covered ourselves with all the available rugs and 

 blankets we possessed, and sat and shivered. A dirty 

 rag and some matting divided this part of the boat 

 from another dark place in our rear, in which I slept. 

 Beyond my partition, and behind a second rag and 

 matting, slept the boatmen, their wives and children. 

 S. lay down in the place we sat in. 



