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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



THE START FOR KASHMIR! 



Photograph from William Jessop 



If variety is the spice of life, a half-starved horse, a "one-hoss shay" tonga, and a 

 Kashmir mountain road form a rare combination. Anything may happen and almost every- 

 thing does (see text below). 



packed huge bedding rolls,' rain cloaks, 

 tiffin baskets, and cameras. 



The gentlemen and the remainder of 

 the twenty-nine varieties, including two 

 boxes of tinned provisions, occupied the 

 tongas, which, for their size, are marvels 

 of capacity. They are two-wheeled vehi- 

 cles capable of accommodating four per- 

 sons, each two sitting back to back, and 

 boxes are stowed under the seats and 

 under the feet, while bedding rolls and 

 lighter articles are tied to the sides and 

 on the top. 



THROUGH A COUNTRYSIDE RESEMBLING 

 PENNSYLVANIA 



At last, about 9 o'clock, all the numer- 

 ous details were arranged and we were 

 off for Tret, 25 miles on the way and our 

 next stopping place. The first 10 miles 

 were across a level valley, with green 

 grain patches and plowed land stretching 

 back to the hills on either side. It might 

 have been a country scene in part of my 

 own Pennsylvania, except for the thatched 

 mud huts and the eastern dress of the 

 natives. 



Further along the road enters low hills 

 and the view is pleasantly varied. 



As we went careering along the road 

 mile after mile, around bends, up hill and 

 down hill, the light tops swayed, the 

 wheels creaked, and at times the harness 

 gave way, so that we often wondered 

 whether our journey would be completed 

 without serious mishap. It was, how- 

 ever, in spite of the fact that a passing 

 tonga caught the wheel of our landau in 

 too close an embrace and loosened the 

 iron from its hub. 



The accident caused us the loss of a 

 precious hour or more while the drivers 

 tinkered it to hold with rope. Plenty of 

 rope and five-gallon kerosene tins will 

 carry one through almost any crisis in 

 India. 



Three miles from Tret the main ascent 

 begins and we climbed a spur of pine- 

 clad hills to the dak-bungalow, 4,000 feet 

 above sea-level. 



Dak-bungalows are rest-houses built 

 by the government and situated every 

 12 or 15 miles along roads away from 

 the railway. They vary in size from two 

 to five or six rooms and are in charge of 

 a care-taker. Those on much-traveled 

 highways also have caterers, and meals 

 can be ordered at short notice for a small 



