JULY 10th.--To Mozufferabad nine miles, but apparently much more, such a
bad fatiguing march. I got away with the first grey of the dawn and
after a mile's tramp began the ascent of the Doabbuller pass, three and
a half miles long and very steep, so steep that I could often touch the
ground with my hands without stooping much. This was terribly exhausting
and I had to make many halts to recover my breath. Then began a rough
descent along the side of a mountain torrent and afterwards over its
bed, which is a narrow gorge between high hills. This walking was very
rough and difficult; the path being covered with great stones and often
undistinguishable. Indeed it was no path at all, only the ground
occasionally a little trodden. Through the stream, backwards and
forwards _innumerable_ times we went. I found that my feet, though naked
except where covered by the straps of the sandals, were able to take
care of themselves, and avoid contusion almost without the help of my
eyes. Then I came to a large and rapid river called the Kishun-gunga
crossed by a rope bridge. Let me describe the bridge. Three or four
leather ropes about one inch in diameter tied into a bundle to walk
upon, three feet above this, a couple of ropes, two feet apart, the
upper ropes connected to the lower one at intervals of four or five
yards by stakes.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25