A hornet flies in and settles on my hand, then a large
beetle comes with a buzz and a thud against me, making me start. Sundry
moths, small flies, and beetles, are playing innocently round the flame.
In half an hour I shall be able to make a fair entomological collection
but as I neither (Ha! I've killed the hornet) desire them in my hat
dead, nor in my bed alive, I must put out the light, give up writing,
and smoke in darkness.
JULY 14th.--To Shadera, twelve miles walked all the way. The road worse
than ever, and for the last mile actually dangerous, as it passed along
the edge of a deep precipice, and was only a foot wide and considerably
out of the horizontal, so that a single false step would have been
fatal. Road continued same character all the way along, though much
above the tortuous and noisy Jhelum, and its ups and downs were the
roughest, longest, and most trying, I have yet experienced. I am pleased
to know that the remaining two marches will be, in the words of my
Coolies over "uch'-cha rasta," a good road. It remained cloudy and
threatening the greater part of the way, and a little rain fell, but
eventually the sun shone, though great masses of "cumuli" continue to
hang about. This is a small village completely shut in by three huge
hills standing very close together.
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