With the Connaught Rangers

by Edward Herbert Maxwell

Medical science is in a very backward state in Cashmere. A surgeon we met at one of the halting-places told us that he had been entreated by the head man of the district to come and see his daughter, who was suffering from a disease of the eye. Our friend went at once to the house, and found the poor girl in a terrible state. A native practitioner had taken out her eye, and, having stuffed up the place with wool, had left Nature to complete a cure, aided by a cloud of flies. The wretched girl was suffering agonies under this treatment, the whole side of her face being a mass of inflammation. Dr. —— trusted that the measures he had taken would save her life. As it came on to rain in the night, our tents were wet in the morning, but fortunately our other set of tents had been sent on the night before. We had a long and fatiguing march up and down hill, through rice fields, and over so-called bridges. The bridges consist of two stout logs, roughly fastened together with planks, with no parapets, and with gaps of several feet between, which made the crossing of a rapid stream a service of real danger to the horses and of most questionable pleasure to pedestrians.

After a tremendous climb we came to scenery which recalled home to our memories. We were hundreds of feet above the Jhellum, whose voice sounded faint and far in the depths below us. For some miles our road lay through park land: fine trees waved overhead, ferns nestled at their roots, and the grass glittered in the sunlight, each blade weighed down by a drop of the last night’s storm. A pair of eagles were teaching their young ones to fly; higher and higher they soared in the blue sky, till our eyes ached watching them. The sun was high in the heavens when we found ourselves at the barradurrie of Chikoti.

Welcome sight! this white-washed house of rest, and still more welcome the ‘doctor,’ which M’Kay had ready for us. M’Kay never seemed tired. Her scons were always ready for breakfast. I do not know how we should have got on without them, for we had no bread; but as long as we had M’Kay’s scons we wished for nothing else, and, as we ate them, we marvelled how she had strength to come such marches and do her work so untiringly. True she had a dandy to be swung along in, but, if her coolies were lazy, she used to lose patience, get out, and run along the steep mountain path, with the swiftness and ease a childhood spent in a Highland home had given her. Her bearers, for very shame, would trot along behind her, either grumbling at this newly-developed eccentricity in the ‘belattee memsahib,’ or grinning at her remarkable appearance, as she skipped along from rock to rock, a tiny mug, in which she concocted the ‘doctor,’ strapped on behind her waist, also any article of dress my wife would require immediately on arrival. When her pack was opened, the objects she had elected to carry were slippers, brushes, comb, and sponge-bag—all ready for her mistress.

We slept the sleep of the weary that night. Four o’clock came too soon, but we never gave ourselves any time to think of the miseries of early rising, for every mile traversed before the sun climbed the mountains and shone down on us was worth very much. There was not light to see a white horse as we came into the cold morning air; the stars were still out, and only a faint streak in the east showed us that daylight was coming. How very enjoyable those early morning break-neck rides and walks were, the fresh, exhilarating mountain breeze giving us spirits to meet difficulties which in the plains would have seemed insurmountable, the air fragrant with the breath of roses, jessamine, and sweet brier, growing in thick and wild luxuriance. The scenery was very grand; but this was the most fatiguing of all the marches. We scrambled, struggled, climbed to the top of a rugged, precipitous path only to descend again, and, having crossed a river, we ascended to the plateau on which the Fort of Oree is situated. Built by the Sikhs, it is now garrisoned by the troops of the Maharajah.

The barradurrie is near the fort, and is a two-storied house more than usually tenanted—by fleas. As we sat out in the verandah, we were attracted by the sound of a tom-tom, and in a short time appeared some twenty faqueers, who halted in front of where we were seated, and proceeded to bivouac. These faqueers are so-called holy men; they wear no clothes, and their long and tangled locks are covered with ashes, and their faces painted all sorts of colours. A more disgusting sight than one of these men can hardly be imagined, but a detachment, such as were now before us, had a grim kind of comicality. One of them more hideous than the others possessed a queer-looking umbrella, which he planted in the ground, and then extended himself at full length—the picture of a loathsome animal. We were glad when these dreadful creatures marched away again to the sound of their monotonous music.

There is a curious rope-bridge near Oree; two ropes parallel to each other span the deep gully formed by steep rocks on each side of the river. A chair is pulled across, in which the traveller sits and gazes beneath him at the roaring waters, prepared to engulf him if the rope were to break. Happily our way lay alongside, not across, the Jhellum.

What a lovely ride we had next morning! There were rough ups and downs at first, but then came forests of deodars, through the breaks of which the snow-covered mountains showed sharp and clear against the deep blue sky. Mighty cliffs rose sheer up to our right in some places, while the Jhellum on our left roared and thundered in its narrow passage over huge rocks with such violence that it was impossible to hear ourselves speak. My wife was riding in front, and, as she turned a corner, her horse shied to the right. A weird-looking little man, with no garments on at all, and his head anointed with cinders, was seated on the ground in a shallow cave formed by a rock, thrumming on a native banjo, with a huge cat clinging to his shoulder. He looked very uncanny, and took no notice of us, but seemed quite contented with his surroundings. We were informed that he was a very holy faqueer, who had lived there summer and winter for many years, and that every passer-by gave him something. So we added a few pice to his store.

Further on a long string of large monkeys were turning somersaults disagreeably near to the high cliffs edge; but their glee seemed unending, and they raced away above us, springing from branch to branch, and moving the forest as by a partial breeze. We came to an old ruin called Pandee Ghur, covered with ivy and buried among the dense forest.

Still further on there is a splendid ruined temple called Bhumiar, which is stated to be one of the finest specimens of a familiar kind of architecture in Cashmere. At certain times of the year numerous Hindoo pilgrims come to visit it. Perhaps the detachment of faqueers we saw at Oree may have been returning from the pilgrimage. A thunderstorm which came on hurried our proceedings, and the thunder rolled grandly as we arrived at Naoshera.

Our halting-place for the night was in the barradurrie, close to the rapid Jhellum. Here we got good-sized fish, which were caught in the most primitive manner. A crooked pin fastened to a string and baited with a mulberry, was quite enough to ensure a good plate of fish. I must not forget to mention that the mulberries were in great abundance, and, when we were in Cashmere, formed the staple article of food for the lower classes. But the peasants are not particular, and devour fruit, nowise careful whether the peaches, apples, or melons be ripe or not.