When the fish was a size too
large to be trifled with, he first polished it off by rapping its head
on the boards. It is now sunset, and that bird is still feeding, and
probably the day will end without deciding whether his appetite or his
capacity is the larger. A native brought me a dish of excellent
apricots and mulberries--the mulberries especially good, and my garden
is celebrated for the best peaches in Kashmir.
JULY 27th.--Up the Jhelum again, past Sumbul with its deodar bridge
(similar to the others described with this exception, that the footway
appears to be built in imitation of the roof of a house sloping on
either side from a high central ridge, not the best form of bridge I
have seen, but variety is charming) to the entrance of the Scind river,
where a chenar stands in the middle of the stream, protected by a square
block of masonry. Tradition says this tree never grows. Near it is a
small island over grown with trees. Here we left the Jhelum and pursued
the course of the Scind which soon contracted into a narrow and rapidly
flowing river, its water derived from the snows, being very cold. It was
slow work rowing against the strong current, but we presently emerged
into a great lake entirely covered with high rushes except where a
winding channel was cut for the boats, and here progression was slower
still as the rope had to be abandoned, and the pole called into
requisition, so that it was nearly dark when we reached Ganderbul.
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