332 Account of a visit to tlie Shrine of Sakhi Sarwar. [No. 4. 



of lightning. There was no remedy but to make for a small clump 

 of trees, which fortunately happened to be within a short distance ; 

 and with the shelter afforded by the ample blanket of the Police 

 horseman — A Ranker Afghan-— who with myself in the middle and 

 my four Beliich guides with our horses huddled together in a line — ■ 

 those on the right and left, holding the ends of the blanket, and 

 each holding it over his own head — we managed to hold out for some 

 time, until the blanket got wet through, when the storm luckily 

 passed off; and we again went on at a brisk pace to make up for 

 lost time, as night was fast approaching. 



The road became more stony and more difficult as we advanced, 

 from the streams of water and the increasing darkness, which was 

 only at times relieved for a moment by a vivid flash of lightning, 

 very often disclosing our dangerous proximity to a ravine or water- 

 course. However we succeeded in reaching the end of our journey 

 (Sakhi Sarwar at that time of night appearing a very strange look- 

 ing place) without further accident at about half-past 7 o'clock ; 

 and I was heartily glad to get into my snug tent, where I found 

 the tea things on the table, and the kettle singing for tea — 



" The very winds that sigh or roar — 



The leaves that rustle dry and sear — 

 The waves that beat upon the shore— 

 They all are music to your ear : 



It was of use 



To Orpheus — 

 He charmed the fishes in the say ; 



So every thing 



Alive can sing — 

 The kettle even sings for tap /" 



April \0th. — On getting up this morning and looking out, I find 

 I was not deceived in the idea entertained last evening as to Sakhi 

 Sarwar's being a strange-looking place. The town as it may be 

 termed— a collection of flat-roofed mud houses about five hundred 

 in number — is situated on a tongue of land to the left, near the 

 entrance of the Dalanah Pass ; and is surrounded by bare and rug- 

 ged hills on all but the western side. The place just below the 

 town to the north where the Fair is held is rather open. It is the 

 dry bed of a mountain stream, which flows only in the winter 



