A PILGRIMAGE TO AMERNATH 



541 



Great was our relief to learn that it was 

 only a pack pony that had died. 



No doubt the owner felt badly enough, 

 as it was half his living, and we were 

 sorry for his loss ; but our sympathy 

 would have been greater had he treated 

 the animal with more care. The second 

 day out from Pahlgam on this trip we 

 learned to our dismay that no food had 

 been brought for the horses, although 

 money was given for the purpose before 

 we left. 



The syces were even too lazy much of 

 the time to lead the animals to water be- 

 fore we started in the mornings, trust- 

 ing to luck that we would let them drink 

 at the first running stream. They rarely 

 troubled to relieve the animals of their 

 saddles after a hard day's journey, until 

 they were made to do so, sometimes by 

 no gentle means. So long has the Kash- 

 miri been accustomed to rough treatment 

 that he pays little attention to a quiet 

 command, if it happens to be contrary to 

 his own desires. 



How those ponies ever lived for four 

 days on the short grass, most of it dry 

 at that time of year, will always be a 

 mystery. 



At Tanin, on the way back, the first 

 point from which a bazaar was accessi- 

 ble, the servants were told that they could 

 have no food until some had been bought 

 for the horses, and that they should be 

 fed in our presence. Knowing that we 

 were very angry and fearing that their 

 baksheesh might be lessened, they walked 

 two extra miles and brought back in tri- 

 umph a bag of ground grain. This was 

 mixed with water and roiled into cakes. 



Never shall I forget the sight that fol- 

 lowed. The ponies were lined up on 

 the grass in the light of our camp fire, 

 with the portion of food for each in front 

 of it, and we stood guard until the last 

 morsel had disappeared, thus satisfying 

 ourselves that the starved little beasts 

 had had one proper meal, and that it had 

 not been stolen by their keepers. 



After the trip was over, the man who 

 lost his pony was paid for it. We re- 

 membered what Westerners are too 

 prone to forget, that these Eastern serv- 

 ants are just grown-up children, with 

 about the same amount of judgment and 

 foresight. We dared give no intimation 

 beforehand of our intentions, however, 



or more casualties among the pack ani- 

 mals would have followed. 



In a roundabout way we learned from 

 the head syce that a good pack pony was 

 worth about four sheep ; but he added 

 scornfully, "This one was old and ready 

 to die ; two sheep would buy it." 



As we had paid Rs. 2-8-0 for a sheep, 

 we decided Rs. 5/- would be sufficient 

 compensation. Judging from the smiles 

 of pleasure with which this sum (equiva- 

 lent to $1.60) was received, our valua- 

 tion was correct. At any rate, the be- 

 reaved owner went away satisfied, which 

 is rare with that class in India. 



THE LAST FIVE MILKS TO AMERNATH 



From Punjitarni to Amernath is five 

 miles, the last three of which must be 

 traveled on foot. For the first two miles 

 the path winds around the hillside, beside 

 the stream we had crossed to reach our 

 camp. 



As we looked up we could see a num- 

 ber of snow-bridges, and our way led 

 past the spot where one had been carried 

 away. The wall to our right still re- 

 mained intact, a perpendicular surface, 

 like purest marble, 30 feet high. Blue 

 flowers very like our hepaticas grew here 

 and there along the roadside. 



Presently the path became too steep for 

 our ponies, and we left them on the lower 

 slope of the hill, to be happy with what 

 grass they could find, until our return. 



Now it was our turn to work, for our 

 winding path could be traced up the al- 

 most perpendicular side of this spur, 

 more than 500 feet to the top. 



I had to take the climb in short stages, 

 with many rests, on account of the fear- 

 ful pumping of my heart. To none of 

 the party was it play, at 13,000 feet. 

 From the top, looking back, was a mag- 

 nificent pile of mountains, the central one 

 a sharp ridge, descending at each side in 

 long, bare, rocky slopes, while to the left 

 and right rose snow-capped peaks. 



The path followed the hill to the right 

 for some time, then that to the left across 

 snow-fields, over loose stones, among 

 which the trail was almost lost, and 

 finally up the last steep ascent over rock 

 masses to the entrance of the cave 



The snow-fields interested us greatly 

 They were masses of snow, drifted in 

 from the winter storms, over the streams. 



