October 1.—Busily employed to-day in packing away our possessions, and making final arrangements for again taking the road.
Paid a visit to Saifula Baba, the shawl merchant, whose dignity was considerably upset by a cold in his head, and bought a few specimens [[266]]of his trade, though not sufficient to raise his spirits entirely above the influenza. The approaching winter, and the evacuation of the territory by the principal rupee-spending community, seemed a source of great unhappiness to the sun and silver-loving natives.
Their houses seem but badly adapted to keep out cold, and their efforts at heating them are frequently attended by the burning down of a whole nest of their wooden habitations.
Their chief means of artificial warmth seems to be an earthenware jar covered with basket-work, which each native possesses and carries about with him wherever he goes.
This, which is called a Kangree, is filled with charcoal, and, as the Cashmeerians squat down upon the ground, they tuck it under their long clothes, where, until they again rise, it remains hidden from sight, and forms a hot-air chamber [[267]]under their garments.[1] Among other artists I discovered a native painter, rather an uncommon trade in these parts, from whom I obtained some original designs, illustrating, with uncommon brilliancy, the very common ceremonies of Hindoo and Mahomedan Shadees, or marriage processions, and other manners and customs of native life.
After getting together everything we required for the road, and clearing out the whole of our possessions, much to the inconvenience of several large standing armies of fleas, we finally took our departure in two boats, manned by twelve boatmen, and started for Baramoula, on the road to Muree and the plains.
October 2.—After making but little progress during the night, we discovered in the morning that our boats were rather too large for the river, in its present weakly and reduced state. Every ten minutes we found ourselves aground upon the sand and mud, and the cooking boat behind us followed our example, while the river ahead showed no prospect whatever of deepening. [[268]]The Manjees, under the circumstances performed wonders in the nautical manœuvring line. Jumping overboard incessantly, they called upon Peer Dustgeer, their favourite patron saint, to aid them in their difficulties, and shrieked and screamed till the whole place resounded with their cries.
Sometimes the saints were stony-hearted, probably not being in a humour to be shouted at, and then the entire body of silky-skinned darkies would set to work, laughing and shouting, to clear away the bar of sand. Their paddles forming in this operation, very effective substitutes for spades and shovels, with much difficulty we reached the lake, and about nine o’clock arrived at Baramoula.
