Beyond the green, tree-studded levels to the south, the range of the Pir Panjal spread wide its array of dazzling peaks, while on the right towered the mountains which enclose the Sind Valley, culminating in the square-headed mass of Haramok. In the clear air the snows seemed quite close, although we knew that the snow-line was really some three thousand feet above the level of the valley.
A day like this, as we sit on the little roof of our floating home watching the silent river unfold its shining curves, goes far to obliterate the memory of the fuss and worry inseparable from the exodus from Srinagar. After lunch we tied up for a while, and I took my gun on shore to try and pick up a few of the duck that dotted the waters of the little lakes or jheels which lay flashing amid the hillocks beyond the river banks. The shores of these being perfectly bare and open, it was obviously impossible to escape the keenly observant eyes of the duck, which appeared, unlike all other birds in Kashmir, to retain their customary wariness.
Crouching low amid the furrows of a newly-ploughed field, I sent the shikari with a knot of natives to the far side of the water, whence they advanced in open line, splashing and shouting.
Presently, with much fuss and indignant quacking, a cloud of duck rose, and, circling after their fashion, as though reluctant to quit their resting-place, gave me several chances of a long shot before, working high into the air, they departed with loud expostulation to some quieter haunt.
Later in the afternoon we tied up to the bank for the night near a large jheel, where we all landed, Charlotte to try a rifle which she had borrowed, and I, if possible, to slay a few more duck, while Jane sat peacefully on a bank and enjoyed the glorious sunset.
The bag having been swelled by the addition of another dozen “specimens”—obtained by the same manoeuvres as before—we strolled back to our ships in the luminous dusk, visions of roast “canard” floating seductively before our mental vision.
There proved to be several varieties of duck among the countless flocks which I saw, notably mallard, teal, pochard, and shoveller. Likewise there were many coots, while herons, disturbed in their meditations by the untoward racket, flapped heavily away with disgusted squawks.
Jane is getting along remarkably well with her Hindustani. I have just found her diary, and hasten to give an extract:—
“Woke up very early; much bitten by pice. Tom started off to try and shoot a burra sahib, as he hears and hopes they’ve not yet shed all their horns.”
“He really looked very nice in his new Pushtoo suit, with putty on his legs and chaplains on his feet…. His chickory walked in front, carrying his bandobast.”