With the Connaught Rangers

by Edward Herbert Maxwell

MARCH TO KOHALLA—CROSSING THE JHELLUM—ACCIDENT TO A BOAT—ASCENT OF THE DUNNA PASS—BARRADURRIES, OR REFUGES—TOMB OF A YOUNG CAVALRY OFFICER—SUDDEN STORM—CHICKAR—THE DOCTOR—AN EARLY START—WONDERFUL TOMASHA WALLA—BACKSHEESH—THE PEOPLE OF CASHMERE—HEAVY TAXATION—TREATY.

CHAPTER VIII.

Our next march was to Kohalla on the banks of the Jhellum. It is a pleasant ride down to the valley, and then through flowering shrubs and green fir-trees, and past high rocks till we arrived at the comfortable hotel, situated near the river. Across that foaming mass of troubled waters we had to pass, and then we should be in Cashmere; for the Jhellum divides the territory of the Maharajah from that of Great Britain.

There was only one way to proceed—in a flat-bottomed boat, which on inspection proved but a rickety craft. The horses and baggage crossed over in safety, and then our turn came. On entering the boat our confidence was not increased by finding a big hole in its side, which was stuffed with grass, and a large stone placed against the bundle to keep it safe!

The same performance was gone through as at Attack, on the Indus. Our boat was towed some distance up the river, and then cast off. We flew across, and made the opposite shore, some way down the stream, when, a rope being thrown, was caught by coolies, and we were hauled into smooth waters, and landed.

A fortnight after we had crossed, a brother officer, on his way to Cashmere, had passed this ferry, followed by his servants, horses, and baggage. The boat, cast off from the opposite shore, flew over the boiling, surging waters. The rope was thrown and caught by the coolies, but it was rotten, and the boat, with all its living contents, was swept away, the mad waters engulfing everything that was in this miserable old coble.

But now we are landed in the Maharajah’s country. The day was far spent when we managed to start our avant guard of coolies with tents and baggage. We decided, therefore, to advance only a few miles up the mountain to a level ground, where there was water and sufficient space to pitch our tents. The ascent of Dunna is not along green sides and grassy slopes, but in the dry bed of a winter’s torrent. Leaving the village where we had disembarked, the path proceeds for a short way along the level, and then straight up the stony course of the stream. My wife started on foot. With her Alpine staff in her hand, she bravely faced the hill. I rode as long as I could, but the scrambling, sliding pony was most disagreeable, so I was obliged to walk.

To describe our ascent is impossible, as no one can form an idea equal to it who has not attempted the Dunna Pass. Intensely hot in the valley, it became cooler as we scrambled and tumbled along the rocky path; and at length we arrived at the Dunna Dhuk, the only level site before reaching the top. The evening had closed in, but the moon rose clear and splendid from behind the lofty mountain up which we were toiling. The wild night-hawk’s shrill note echoed through the still, dark valleys, and the light and shadow deepened as the moon rose brighter and more glorious every minute. Our tents were pitched by our active servants on a kind of terrace formed for cultivation, and our dinner was nearly cooked before we had time to look about us. Our only light was the silvery moon.

We asked for milk, and one of our Cashmerian retainers proceeded a short distance, and, facing the valley, shouted our wants in a loud and prolonged call. The answer came, weird-like, from a long way off, and, in due course, rich milk was brought to us in abundance. It was very pleasant on that cool mountain side after the heat of the plains, and we soon retired to our Swiss cottage tent to seek the repose we had honestly earned.

It was strange to awake and find ourselves encamped on the hills in Cashmere; and, when M’Kay brought us our morning cups of tea, we were ready to begin another day’s march. The tents were struck and sent away, and the final orders given. My wife, as usual, faced the brae on foot, and I rode Silver Tail till I found it impossible. So I handed him over to my syce, greatly to the knowing one’s internal satisfaction.