3rd October. To Tazgan: a long and very rough march, the path hanging on the mountain side over the torrent descending a narrow valley which leads to the pass of Soonamurgh. Some patches of cultivation with two or three huts here and there on either side—evident signs of increased fertility of soil—are now discernible. Straggling bushes, some stunted fir trees, and many deformed, limb-twisted junipers, dot the sides of the mountains, which are broken into stupendous ranges of magnificent forms, and shew bright tints in the watercourses seaming their declivities, where rank grasses and thick-growing shrubs find suitable soil and moisture. Other coarse herbage also gives a pleasant hue of green, though now yellowing, to the general surface—all being a prelude to the coming beauties of Cashmere.
The halting place is by a sort of warehouse for the deposit of the Maharajah's merchandise in transit, who I find is the principal merchant of his realms, speculating largely in all produce, and exercising a monopoly of tea and pasham, chiefly imported from Las; yet, not to be called a speculation, because he must always make immense profits, as he pays no dues, fixes his own prices, and forces sales on his unwilling but submissive subjects. Thus he always ensures a winning game.
4th October. On turning out, I found that many coolies had deserted. They were engaged to complete this day's march to Dras. I thought there was something amiss last night, as the fellows kept up a jabbering uproar long after I had turned in. Leaving the energetic Abdoolah and the sepoy to extract other 'slavies' from the few houses straggling in the neighbourhood—which must shelter a population of forty or fifty, I imagine, exclusive of women and bairns—I stepped out quickly to the tune of the crackling ice and crisp ground under me. The scenery was similar to that of yesterday, except that more open levels were met with, and the path much improved. The valley widened, admitting a considerable extent of grassy undulations and flats as we neared Dras—a large maidan, boasting a fort of the usual form, in good repair and of unexceptionable whitewash. A large enclosure serves for camping. A jemadar and some twelve sepoys are here. Enquiring about my last letter forwarded, I learned to my vexation that it had only left Dras three days; so I arranged to send in Kamal by tattoo dâk to Sirinuggur, where he will probably arrive a day sooner than the so-called post, and rejoin me the other side Soonamurgh. The traps arrived in good time, coolies having been provided.
5th October. The people all astir unusually early, long before dawn. I turned out by moonlight—a severe frost, and so fine and fresh—and tramped away merrily over the frosty, ringing ground, and crossed many an ice-bound stream; and after some eight miles or so, during which I had left all my followers far behind, I reached a hamlet called Pendras, and sending for the head man (mukadam) requested fresh milk and firewood, shewing a 'jo' as the compensation, which I always find assists my vocal appeals admirably, and invariably succeeds in obtaining the trifles I require. After a bit, Mooktoo and others came up; and then, on again. Ere long a signal from Subhan, close behind me, brought to notice three fowl below us in the river, a duck and two teal. I stole down upon them, and dropped the duck as it neared the opposite bank, and the two teal with the other barrel. Further on I spied half a dozen teal across the river. We rode down to cross at a shallow, when a couple of ducks rose, and, having gone down stream, returned and were passing high over head, when aiming well forward I fired and down whirled the leader, falling into some bushes. On reaching him I found Sara already in full possession. I thought the teal seen were still undisturbed. Syces, Subhan, and moonshi came up and reported them still visible from above; so, cautiously stealing to the place, I found three remaining, and waiting till their dabbling brought them together knocked them all over. Sara, at the discharge, rushed into the stream, and dragged a struggling victim to shore. 'Sha-bash! Sara.'
We had a stiff pull up a hill abutting into the valley, at the base of which two streams, issuing severally from deep narrow gorges, united; and following up the course of that on our right hand, high up above it, we wound along many a bend and turn. The mountains on our left were now well clothed with birch woods stretching downwards. Rich heavy growth of vegetation is now general from rocky summit to base, and the watercourses are distinguishable by the bright emerald tint of their grasses, diminishing in brilliancy outwardly, the colouring gradually assuming a yellowish hue as it recedes from the water. The foliage, generally, has now assumed a yellow hue from the effects of the severe frosts; and some of the more sensitive shrubs already glow in the deepest tints of orange, portions here and there showing like broad red stripes down the mountain; so vivid is the colour, and the whole effect of outline and detail is enchanting. Feasting my eyes on these lovely scenes, I suddenly became aware of an unusual object on one of those emerald slopes. A moment for the eye to dwell, and I was convinced, and shouted, "Balloo, balloo." There was the first bear. He was far away—high up on the other side the river.
Now descending a bit, we came to three stone huts at the foot of an enormous glacier, whence issued a torrent from eastward. Our further route lay up the prolongation of the valley we were ascending, southward. But our day's march was terminated. The bear was on the opposite mountain-side, straight across; and lying down I watched its movements, not thinking it worth while to undergo the fatigue of an attempt on him, from the open character of the ground, and the extreme probability of his soon returning satiated to his lair. Still he grubbed, and now and again ascending a rise to reconnoitre returned to his repast. I dozed: woke up, and there he was still. And so the parties remained till the arrival of Mooktoo who bore the spyglass. Through this I now inspected the distant beast, and found it a very large one. Very soon he moved off; and, after patiently following his eccentric movements, I marked him down, behind a jutting rock high up on the mountain. Summoning Phuttoo and Mooktoo, I made my own bunderbus for the assault; rode Mooktoo across the river, and was obliged to ascend the mountain by a gulley to windward of the bear's retreat, but hoped, by getting above, to weather on him. It was hard work getting up—the grass very slippery, and I had only common shoes on. We reached right over the spot I thought Bruin occupied; closely examined the rock I thought he harboured by; but of him we saw nothing. Nor could we get a glimpse of him elsewhere; so, supposing he had withdrawn unobserved, we prepared for our difficult descent, in which we were engaged, Phuttoo assisting my sliding feet, when he uttered an exclamation, and, following his eye, I saw the dust flying, as the bear, till now in a fast snooze, scuttled off. Phuttoo handed me the Whitworth, and, luckily, the brute turned round on a rise far above us to have a look at the disturbers of his repose. That moment of curiosity was fatal; as, taking advantage of the glimpse of him, I sent a bolt into his neck, and staggered him. Growling savagely, he made his way some little distance, and climbed on to a prominent piece of rock—a fine mark, about a hundred and fifty yards off. Phuttoo, quickly loading, handed me the rifle, and the discharge of its contents brought Bruin from his lofty perch. Mooktoo, who was far above us, made for the spot, and dragging the carcase from a cleft in which it had lodged, it came spinning and rolling, over and over, on to a snowdrift in a ravine. I hastened to inspect it—a fine large female, in full fur, and fat as butter. I resolved to pack off all the traps, and wait till the skin and fat were brought in, in the morning.
6th October. All the baggage off, and Mooktoo with two coolies gone for the spoils, I sat by the fire two hours at least ere the skinning party returned; then off immediately, and crossed several snowdrifts—the valley narrow with a gradual, almost imperceptible ascent. We had arrived at an extensive mass of snow over which ran the path, when Subhan, as I was crossing it, pointed out some wild fowl on a frozen pool below. They were far off, and rose wild. As they squattered over the ice, I fired both barrels and dropped one bird, a duck; then crossed the snow, and scrutinising the stream saw wild fowl in a bend under some overhanging snow; crawled up and dropped five of them—a duck, a widgeon, and three teal.
We continued our route, crossing over to the other side on an enormous mass of snow filling the ravine—no longer a valley—and bridging the torrent. A sharp climb up, then a gradual ascent, and we were on the top of the pass, though not on the top of the mountain. A view of transcendent magnificence and beauty opened upon us. Every conceivable form and colour of loveliness in landscape seemed here united. The mountains, opening out into valleys and dells clad in the richest verdure, with foliage of infinite variety—only, perhaps, rather too general a tint of yellow—stretched in ranges on either hand far away back, giving beautiful distances with their infinite shades of blue. Close at hand, their savage rugged crests, riven and split into all imaginable forms of pinnacle and peak, here and there a snow-covered mass more level separating them, frowned overhead. Lovely peeps downward to the torrent glistening below were offered through the vistas of the foliage. Indeed, all was seen from out a frame, and from under a canopy, of bright foliage. While from below was wafted up a delicious fresh fragrance of rich and abundant vegetation, giving an idea of teeming fertility, but all of nature's wildest. I felt that had I done nothing more in this long excursion than just bring myself to this spot to feast upon these charms of nature, I had been amply repaid.
I had dismounted, and now descended, the way running down in short sharp zigzags, the declivity on this side being of great length and extremely steep. Pausing, now and again, on some prominence to gaze out upon the glorious picture around, thus I went down my way rejoicing into a fine grassy vale: then mounted and rode some ten miles along it, with an occasional stretch of intervening pine woods to cross—the mountains on either side glorious; those on the left more thickly timbered. Luxuriating in such scenery—so widely different from that recently quitted—I reached our halting place, a sweet spot, a level turf close by a river, over which is thrown a rude but picturesque bridge. A straggling hamlet being hard by, a few acres of cultivation, irregular and unfenced, are spread around, the grain now in sheaves. The valley has opened out into an expanse of downs; but lofty mountains, mostly covered to their summits with vegetation or timber, overlook and shut it in. One remarkable mountain, richly clad below, but his hoary summit bare rock broken into countless pinnacles, stands as a gaunt sentinel over the hamlet.
I was charmed with so delightful a spot for a bivouac, and determined to halt to-morrow (Sunday), though I should have to send for provisions, that is, flour. Subhan went off on his tat to visit a shepherd on a neighbouring mountain, and obtain reliable information of shikar. He returned after my dinner, the moonshi Suleiman with him, who had taken a fancy to accompany him on foot. The shepherd declared he had heard the bellowing of a stag for the last four or five nights, and had seen several hinds with one enormous stag in their midst a few days since; and that there was a pool with a well-trodden track to it, where these animals passed constantly. Coming back Suleiman, having started before Subhan, encountered a bear midway. It was now dusk, and, being unarmed, he had fled amain. Subhan, just seeing him from an eminence going at top speed, and disappearing in the distance, could not imagine what possessed him. Poor Suleiman had evidently exerted himself. He was streaming with perspiration—his long locks in great disorder. He is too short and stout for continued speed without disagreeable consequences. I had a little fun with him, which he enjoyed too. The shepherd had promised to come to camp early in the morning, and bring further intelligence of the voices of the night.