July 8, 1911.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
75 
FISHING WITH MULBERRIES IN 
KASHMIR. 
The word Kashmir brings back to my mind 
a flood of pleasant recollections of the nicest 
three months’ holiday I ever spent, but the recol¬ 
lections are of a visit paid nearly thirty years 
ago, and in that time great changes have doubt¬ 
less occurred, and are still occurring, and it is 
quite possible that a form of sport that afforded 
us considerable amusement then may have com¬ 
pletely fallen into disuse. Even at that time the 
condition of things in Kashmir was rapidly 
changing. In the year I was there I overheard 
an officer belonging to one of the native Indian 
regiments complaining bitterly of the manner 
in which prices had risen since his last visit a 
year or two before, and that "now housekeep¬ 
ing in this country offered few attractions for 
a poor soldier who wished to economize.” The 
matter of complaint was that after much bargain¬ 
ing only 250 eggs were offered him for one 
rupee, and he had always been accustomed to 
get at least a hundred more at that price. Pos¬ 
sibly now a similar expenditure, except in far- 
distant places, well out of the beaten track, will 
only produce a very limited assortment, with 
genuine antiques probably predominating, or they 
may possibly by now have established an egg 
trust. 
The number of travelers in Kashmir was 
limited, and it used to be necessary to obtain 
official permission to visit those regions. But 
there are exceptions to every rule, and as mat¬ 
ter of fact I went in without a pass, and there 
were no complaints. Srinagar, the capital, is 
quite a short journey from Murri—a hid station 
on the borders of Kashmir, close to Rawal Pindi. 
The journey is made in a tonga drawn by two 
ponies, fresh animals being provided at every 
stage, an excellent road having been constructed 
between the two places. In my time the jour¬ 
ney occupied several days, depending on the 
rapidity in which the intervening stages were 
negotiated. This again depended on the num¬ 
ber of coolies or mules available for the trans¬ 
port of the baggage, which, as it invariably in¬ 
cluded a tent, was as a rule considerable. On 
this occasion I and my companion traveled in a 
leisurely fashion, riding one stage and walking 
the next each day, suiting our method of pro¬ 
gression to the length of the march in front of 
us. There is nothing like traveling to test 
friendship. The old road to Srinagar has wit¬ 
nessed the dissolution of many friendships, un¬ 
able to withstand the severity of the trial. 
We, however, parted with sincere regret on 
both sides, I am glad to think. But who could 
quarrel with Cedric the Sapper, the gallant gen¬ 
tleman, the charming and cheery companion? 
Poor old chap! I think of him now—sleeping 
soundly under the South African veldt, beloved 
by all and universally regretted. 
The old road wound along the.Jhelum River, 
a rushing snow-fed torrent, and in places high 
up and overhanging the river we occasionally 
would have been very glad if there had been 
a little more road. One evening I had started 
late on my pony, and darkness caught me in a 
very nasty place. At last I had to dismount 
and feel my way along the edge of the path, 
until finally I was afraid to venture any further, 
as I could not see an inch in front of me, the 
thick overhanging trees shutting out all the light. 
The prospect of spending the night there, espe¬ 
cially as rain was threatening, was dismal in 
the extreme. My native groom had preceded 
me, and it struck me it was just possible he 
might also have got stuck up near by. So with¬ 
out any conviction, I up'ifted my vocie and 
yelled out: “Abdul!” “Ha, sahib!” (“Yes 
sir!”) said a quiet voice at my elbow. That, 
however, nearly sent me over the edge of the 
path. Apparently he had been able to get just 
as far as I had reached, and thought I had seen 
him sitting there. 
After recovering from the unexpected shock, 
a brief council of war evolved a scheme. He 
had a box of dubbin, and by sacrificing some of 
his raiment he was able to construct a rough 
torch. As soon as it was lit, he fled before me, 
illuminating the path, and I galloped after him 
until it burnt out. When most of the dubbin, 
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