About half a mile from Buramula we
obtain the first view of the Vale of Kashmir, but not an extensive one,
as it is obstructed on either side by low hills. However, what is seen
is very pretty. A large level plain traversed by a broad smooth river
which has now lost its tortuous zig-zag course and bounded by the
everlasting snows covering the main backbone of the Himalayas. At the
head of the valley stands the quaint looking town of Baramula surrounded
by hills on all sides but one, embowered in trees and intersected by the
Jhelum, across which there is a good wooden bridge. The houses have
mostly an upper story, and are built of wood with gabled roofs. The
streets are narrow and roughly paved, and I regret to say are not more
pleasant to the nostrils than are those of other Indian towns. The
bridge built of deodar wood, beams of which are driven into the bed of
the river, and then others laid horizontally upon them, each row at
right angles to and projecting beyond the layer beneath, till a
sufficient height has been reached, six of these and two stone piers
form the buttresses of the bridge and a broad pathway of planks connects
them. The march was a fatiguing one on account of its length, and I used
the dandy freely. I shall however discard it altogether for the future.
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