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The state of Kashmir is at the top of the Indian subcontinent, it has occupied an important place since prehistoric and historical times. Even after independence, the state of Kashmir has become the epitome of political turmoil. For this reason, I think we should all know the archeological, ethnographic, cultural and the background of Kashmir history from ancient times to present.
What is the book about- Agnigarbha Kashmir
The discussion content of this book started from the third millennium BC in the third century. And the book is written with deep devotional practice. In this
An impressive chapter in the book is Jesus Christ in India. This chapter of the book provides new insights into the events leading up to the death of Jesus Christ.
Kashmir Problem – Background Kashmir was a princely state being ruled by Hari Singh at the time of the partition. It was originally sold to the Dogra family by the British Raj. Kashmir being a Muslim majority was believed to be a part of Pakistan after people were to decide their fate. But the people were oppressed by the ruler.
*Readers can collect more book about the Kashmir issue- Kashmir 65- Ananda Bazar Partika Sankalan
The book- ‘Agnigarbha Kashmir’ is written with profound scholarship. And the book will be specially appreciated to readers who interested in the Kashmir issue.
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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Kashmir, by Sir Francis Edward Younghusband The Project Gutenberg eBook, Kashmir, by Sir Francis Edward Younghusband,Illustrated by E. MolyneuxThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away orre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online atTitle: KashmirAuthor: Sir Francis Edward YounghusbandRelease Date: May 7, 2012 eBook #39642Language: EnglishCharacter set encoding: ISO-8859-1.START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KASHMIR.E-text prepared by Melissa McDanieland the Online Distributed Proofreading Team(http://www.pgdp.net). KASHMIRUNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUMEBURMABy R. Talbot Kelly, R.B.A., F.R.G.S.Containing 75 Full-page Illustrations incolour facsimile.INDIABy Mortimer MenpesText by Flora Annie SteelContaining 75 Full-page Illustrations incolour facsimile.A. BLACK, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W.AGENTS AmericaThe Macmillan Company64 & 66 Fifth Avenue, New YorkAustralasiaThe Oxford University Press205 Flinders Lane, MelbourneCanadaThe Macmillan Company of Canada, Ltd.St.
Martin's House, 70 Bond Street, TorontoIndiaMacmillan & Company, Ltd.Macmillan Building, Bombay309 Bow Bazaar Street, CalcuttaGermany, Austria-Hungary, Russia,Scandinavia, andGerman SwitzerlandBrockhaus and Pehrsson16 Querstrasse, Leipzig. APPROACH TO SRINAGARThe country with which one is most apt to compareit is, naturally, Switzerland.
And Switzerland,indeed, has many charms, and a combination oflake and mountain in which, I think, it excelsKashmir. But it is built on a smaller scale.There is not the same wide sweep of snow-cladmountains.
There is no place where onecan see a complete circle of snowy mountainssurrounding a plain of anything like the lengthand breadth of the Kashmir valley, for the mainvalleys of Switzerland are like the side valleys ofKashmir. Breviarium romanum 1962 edition of the joy full. And above everything there is notbehind Switzerland what there is at the back ofKashmir, and visible in glimpses from the southernside,—a region of stupendous mountains surpassingevery other in the world.By these Himalayan regions only, by themountains of Baltistan and Hunza, and by thoseunequalled mountains seen from Darjiling, canKashmir be excelled. There indeed one seesmountain majesty and sublimity at their veryzenith. And with such as these Kashmir cannotcompare. But it possesses a combination of quietloveliness and mountain grandeur which has afascination all its own. If one could imagine thesmiling, peaceful Thames valley with a girdle ofsnowy mountains, he would have the nearestapproach to a true idea of Kashmir it is possibleto give.
He would not expect the stern ruggednessand almost overwhelming majesty of themighty mountains beyond Kashmir. But hewould have the tranquil beauty and genial lovelinesswhich to some are even preferable.Of this, my collaborator's pictures will give atrue and vivid impression, though every artist allowsthat it is impossible to give in a single picturethe broad general effect of those wide-flung landscapesand of the snowy ranges stretching from onehorizon to another. For that impression and forthe varying effect of spring and autumn, of winterand summer, dependence must be on the pen alone.Which is the most lovely season each mustdecide for himself. In the spring we think thespring the most exquisitely beautiful.
In theautumn we say that nothing could exceed thecharm of the brilliant autumn tints. But as itis in the spring that most visitors first arrive, andas it is the real beginning of the year, there willbe some advantage in commencing in that seasonthe delicate task of describing Kashmir.In the first week in March I drove into Kashmir,—thislast year, fortunately, in fine weather. Inother years at this season I might not havebeen so fortunate, and the reader must take thispossibility of drenching rain, of muddy roads,and dangerous landslips into account. For thatpurpose, however, there is no need to offer aid tohis imagination, as rainy days are much the sameall the world over.
THE LAND OF ROSESThe long drive from the Railway Station atRawal Pindi, 196 miles from Srinagar, wasnearly ended. We had steadily ascended thevalley of the Jhelum, with the river continuallydashing past us on the left, a strong impetuousstream now being turned to useful ends, firstly,in generating electric power near Rampur, andsecondly, in irrigating millions of acres in theplains of the Punjab below. We had passedthrough the peaceful deodar forest on either sideof Rampur, and the splendid limestone cliffswhich rise precipitously from them. Just beyondwe had passed massive ruins of the so-calledBuddhist, but really Hindu temple, dating about700 a.d. All the country had been blanketedwith snow; the hill-sides forested with thousandsof Christmas trees glistening in the brilliant sunshine,and the frozen road had been rattling underthe ponies' feet.
When gradually the narrow valleyopened out. The enclosing hills widened apart.The river from a rushing torrent became as placidas the Thames, with numerous long-prowed boatsgliding smoothly downward. MOUTH OF THE SIND VALLEYAgain, when at length Srinagar, the capitalof Kashmir, was reached, and I was back in mymuch-loved garden, still other signs of spring'sarrival were evident. Violets, pansies, wallflowers,narcissus, crocuses, and daisies were out. A fewgreen blades were showing through the browngrass. Rose leaf-buds were bursting.
In onegarden near a few apricot blossoms had actuallybloomed. SUNSET ON THE WULAR LAKESuch signs are usually the presage of unpleasantweather. But in the present case rain did not fall;and this was fortunate, for I had gone into campto shoot a bara-singh, the famous Kashmir stag.Rising at four on the following morning, and, assoon as I had had a hurried breakfast, mounting ashaggy, naughty little pony captured in the fightingin Tibet, I followed the shadowy form of a shikaribestriding a still more diminutive country pony.Most of the clouds of the previous day haddisappeared. The wind had died down, and thestars were shining out with that clear brillianceonly seen amidst the mountains and in the desert.There was a sharp, bracing feeling in the air—notthe same stinging cold I had felt when riding alongthis road at night in January, but strong andinvigorating. We stumbled along on our poniesacross fields and by paths which only a native coulddetect.
At each village dogs howled dismally atus, but not a soul was astir. We graduallyapproached the dark outlines of the mountains,and near their base, while it was still pitch dark,we were joined by other shikaris who, like stageconspirators and with bated breath, explainedwhere a stag had been seen on the previous day.I had then to dismount and walk; steadily andsilently we ascended the mountain-side, and bysunrise were 3000 feet above the valley. Theshikaris were now visible, and like their class hardand keen-looking, clearly used to living on mountain-sidesin cold and heat, and to be ever peering intodistances. The head shikari was a grey, grizzled,old-looking man, though I daresay he was reallynot over fifty; hard and tough, and very graveand earnest—for to him all else in the world is play,and shikar is man's real work in life. Residents,no doubt, have some employments to amuse themselveswith in ordinary times; but when the realbusiness of life has to be done they come to him,and he takes them gently in hand like littlechildren, and shows them the haunts of theKashmir stag, his habits, where he wanders, andhow to pursue him.
DAWN IN THE NULLASo now I put myself humbly in charge of theshikaris, for I make no pretence to be a sportsman.They thereupon proceed to whisper togetherwith profound earnestness and dramatic action.They point out the exact spot where, on theprevious afternoon, a stag was seen. They pickup little tufts of his hair brushed off, as theysay, in fighting. They show his footsteps in thesoft soil and on patches of snow. And they arefull of marvellous conjectures as to where he canhave gone.
But gone he has, and that was themain fact which no amount of whispering couldget over.So on we went along the mountain-side, andnow through deep snow, for we were on a northward-facingslope of an outlying spur—and allslopes which face northward are wooded, whilesouthward-facing slopes are bare. The explanationwas evident. For on the latter slopes the sun'srays fell directly and almost at right angles, andin consequence fallen snow quickly disappears:while on the northern slopes the sun's rays onlyslant across the surface; the snow remains muchlonger; the moisture in the soil is retained;vegetation flourishes; trees grow up; they intheir turn still further shade the snow, and withtheir roots retain the moisture. And so as anet result one side of a mountain is clothed indense forest, and on the other there may not be asingle tree. Thus it is that on the southernside of Kashmir, that is, on the northward-facingslopes of the Pir Panjal range, there is, as atGulmarg, dense and continuous forest, while on thenorthern side of the valley, on the slope of the hillthat consequently faces southward, there is noforest except on the slopes of those subsidiaryspurs which face northward.We followed the tracks of the stag through thispatch of forest, mostly of hazels, the shikarispointing out where the stag had nibbled off theyoung leaf-buds and bark which seem to form thestaple food of the deer at this time of year.
Atlast we came to another shikari who said he hadseen the stag that very morning. But I suspect thiswas merely a form of politeness to reinspire mylagging hope, for though I went down and up andalong the mountain-side, and spent the whole daythere, I saw no stag. Once we heard a rustlingamong the leaves, and hope revived, but it wasmerely a troop of monkeys. A little later aboar shuffled out; and again, on a distant spur,disporting himself in the sunshine, we saw a bear;but no stag. KOTWAL FROM THE FOREST ABOVE KANGAN, SIND VALLEYStill, in spite of the exertion and in spite of thedisappointment, a day like this on the mountain-sideis felt as one of the days in which one lives.The air was fresh and bracing.
There was somethingboth soothing and inspiring in the quiet ofthe mountains and the immense distances beforeme. Far away to the south majestic clouds andsnowstorms were sweeping along the snowy rangeof the Pir Panjal. Beneath was the placid riverwending its tortuous way through the peacefulvalley. On one hand would be seen angry storm-cloudsrolling threateningly across with numeroussun-rays piercing through and lighting up theserpentine course of the river. On the other,emerging from the black masses, would appear thesunlit snowy range, not hard, defined, and clear,and rooted on earth, but to all appearances hungfrom the heavens like an ethereal transparency.Hour after hour I alternately feasted on thechanging scenes displayed across the valley, andwith my field-glasses searched the mountain-sidefor bara-singh. When evening closed in I returnedto camp, where business kept me on the followingday, but on the day after I again rode out while itwas yet dark. As the first faint signs of dawnappeared I began the ascent of the mountain withthe shikaris.
The heavens were clear and cloudless.The bluey-black of the sky imperceptibly fadedinto grey. The mountain slowly turned from greyto brown as we steadily worked upward. Thereposeful stillness which is the characteristic charmof the mountains was only broken by the cheerfulchuckle of the chikor, or the occasional twitter ofa bird calling to its mate. Then as we reachedthe summit of a ridge, and I looked out throughthe greys and browns, a sudden thrill struckthrough me as, all unexpectedly, my eye lit on thelong flush of rosy pink which the yet unrisen sunhad thrown upon the distant mountains, and whichwas the more pronounced and striking becausetheir skyey background and their base was still thegrey of night.
Not often does one see a range ofrosy mountains. And even now the effect lastedfor a short time only. For rapidly a faint bluedrowned the grey.
The sky grew bluer and bluer.The valley became filled with light. But, alas!the rosy pink that had flushed the snowy summitsfaded imperceptibly away to barren whiteness.The whole long range of mountains showed themselvesout with admirable clearness, but distinctlyrooted in the unromantic brown of the valley. ABOVE THE CAMPING-GROUND, SONAMARG, SIND VALLEYBy seven we were at the summit of themountain with the sun now shining full upon us,the air crisp and frosty-the very ideal of youngand vigorous day. We marched steadily along theridge searching the hollows on either side for stag,but all we saw was a boar breaking the ice in apool on the ridge to get a morning drink.
THE KAJNAG FROM SOPUR, EARLY SPRINGWe meet at the edge of the lake and drawlots for the numbered butts. The shikaris, boatmen,and boats are awaiting us, and as soon aswe have decided where each is to go, and havefixed a time to cease shooting as an interval forlunch, and to give the ducks time to settle againfor the further shooting in the afternoon, weembark each on a light shallow skiff with ourguns, cartridges, and tiffin, and glide out througha narrow channel in the reeds to the open waterbeyond.Hokrar is right in the centre of the valley,and from the lake a complete elliptical ring ofsnowy mountains can be seen. The nearest andmost conspicuous peak is Haramokh, 16,903 feet,and 24 miles distant. From this the eye rangesfrom peak to peak to the Khagan range 70 milesdistant in the extreme west of the valley; thenalong over the Kaj Nag mountains separated bythe gorge of the Jhelum River valley from thePir Panjal range, which forms the southernboundary of the valley with Gulmarg, 24 milesdistant, on its southern slopes.
KOTWAL FROM NEAR THE DAL DARWAZAAt the end of March I visited Harwan, avery favourite spot, once the abode of a famousBuddhist saint, and now best known as the siteof the reservoir for the water-supply of Srinagarand of the tanks for trout-breeding. Rain hadfallen in the night, and heavy clouds hung overheadwith only occasional glimpses of intensely clearblue sky between them.
But spring was now clearlyadvancing. The great chenar trees, two and threecenturies old, were still bare, but the willowswere showing fresh young leaves; the apricottrees were covered with clouds of blossom, pinkand white. THE LULL BEFORE THE STORM, DAL LAKEWhen next I visited Harwan in the middleof May spring had given way to early summer.The mountain-sides were dotted over with clumpsof yellow barberry and wild pink roses; clematiswas in bloom, and honeysuckle was trailingfrom the trees. On the ground were large wildgeraniums, the big purple iris, white dead nettle,yellow potentillas, strawberry blossom, tom-thumbs,clover, ferns, speedwell, and primulas. The rocksby the stream were often covered with ivy andoverhung by sprays of pink roses. While on themountain-sides, on the northward-facing slopes,the wild apricot, cherry, and wych hazel, and inthe valley bottom willow, mulberry, and walnutwere in full leaf.
And among the birds were nowgolden orioles, wagtails (white and yellow), kingfishers,herons, water-robins, buntings, grey tits,wren warblers, paradise fly-catchers, bulbuls,thrushes, redstarts, pigeons, doves, and shrikes.The morning was cloudy and misty, but againwith special beauties of its own. Long streaksof mist were drifting along the mountain-sides,all at precisely the same level. Mahadeo, 15,000feet, was at first quite clear and lighted by the sun.Then a mist drifted towards it, and rapidly, but byalmost imperceptible increase, the cloud envelopedit. Light misty clouds swirled about the mountainas currents and counter-currents seized them.Anon the mist in great part cleared away, andMahadeo was seen peering through the clouds, boldand supernaturally high.
Then the peak and allthe mountain-sides were enveloped in dark heavyclouds, rain fell, and there seemed every prospectof a wet and gloomy day. But all unexpectedlyrifts again appeared, and Mahadeo was once moreseen rising composedly above the clouds, the younggreen foliage standing out distinct and bright, andeach rock sharp and well defined. And so, hourafter hour, the struggle between cloud and sunshine,between good and evil continued, it beingimpossible to tell at any moment which was morelikely to prevail. The clouds seemed settling down,then a glint of sunshine was seen high on someupland lighting the fresh green grass and somestray shepherd hut.
Finally wet prevailed, and themist settled lower and lower on the valley, therain poured down and a seemingly regular rainyday set in. But there was fascination yet inwatching the mists floating along the mountains,forming and dispersing, enshrouding and revealingthe mountain peaks; and the green of the littlevalley showed up greener than ever. The mountain-sides,usually so brown, were seen to be tinged witha delicate shade of green. The poplars, mulberries,and chenars at the mouth of the valley had eachtheir own especial tint. The rice-fields showed upin brilliant emerald. ABOVE LIDARWAT, LIDAR VALLEYYet after it had appeared to settle down for awhole day's rain the mists suddenly cleared awayfrom the mountain.
The sun broke through theclouds and showed up the rounded higher spurs withthe soft, downy brown of an Oriental carpet, andthe higher peaks stood out sharp and clear. Anhour later long level lines of mist appeared andswiftly grew thicker, the whole mountain fromone level upward was once more enveloped in cloudwhich thus gained the final victory.Harwan village itself at this time of year wasstrikingly picturesque. It was enshrouded inmassive clumps of chenar foliage, below whichwere the lighter shades of the willow, mulberry, andwalnut, and the straight, graceful, white-trunkedpoplars piercing through. Here and there ahorse-chestnut in full flower lit up the foliage,and most beautiful of all were the patches of tallirises—dark purple, mauve, and white—which nowsurrounded the village. Numerous water-coursesrushing through the village lands gave brightness,cheeriness, and a sense of coolness; while thecrowing of cocks, the twittering of the birds, thelowing of cattle, and the neighing of the poniesgrazing on the rich green grass in the valley bottom,and the distant calls of the shepherd boy to theflocks of sheep and goats on the mountain, gavefurther animation to the scene. And whether itwas more entrancing now, or three weeks laterwhen the irises were over, but when it was wreathedin white roses, it would be difficult to say.
Irisesand roses are the two especial beauties of Kashmirvillages and Kashmir lanes and hedgerows. AndI would not like to positively state which was themore beautiful—the rich clumps of mauve andpurple irises surrounding the village with warmthand colour in the spring, or the clustering wreathsof roses, white and pink, brightening the villagelands and hedgerows in the summer. SPRING IN KASHMIRThis is the valley especially reserved for thesport of Viceroys, and here it was that in the autumnof 1906 the Maharaja entertained Lord Minto.And well do I remember the intense relief ofthe Viceroy as he turned into the valley and left allceremonials and State business behind, and felt thathere at least he was in a haven of rest and naturalenjoyment. The air was clear and bracing, thesky cloudless, and the evening sun throwing longsoothing shadows up the valley. Who could feel acare while he fished or hunted stag in a valleywith more than the beauty and with all the freshnessof his native land?I have said so much about Harwan and theDachigam valley as they are typical of the prettiestparts of rural Kashmir and the side-valleys, but Imust now return to the description of Srinagar andthe main valley itself and go back to where weleft it in the spring.
On April 1st, the chief gloryof the Kashmir spring, peach trees were in fullblossom, and forming in the landscape little cloudsof the purest and most delicate pink, and giving itan exquisite touch of light and colour. The tallerand larger pear trees were snow-white masses.The pink-tinged apple blossoms, the chenar, andwalnut leaves were just appearing, and the poplarand mulberry leaves showed faint symptoms ofbursting. We were in the first, most delicate flushof early youthful spring.A mile from Srinagar, on the way to Gupkarand the Dal Lake, the road passes over a gapbetween the Takht-i-Suliman and the range to thenorth.
This spot is well known as 'The Gap';and as it is perhaps a hundred feet above the valleylevel an extensive view is obtained, on the one hand,over the great vale of Kashmir to the snowy PirPanjal range in the background on the south, andon the other hand to the Dal Lake, Haramokh,and the mountain range, close by on the north.There were very few days when either in themorning or evening I did not visit this spot, andhardly ever did I see the same view. Everyday there seemed some fresh beauty; and whichday in spring, and whether the days in spring weremore beautiful than the days in autumn, I couldnever satisfy myself. On April 1st, looking southward,there was first on the sloping foreground analmond orchard with a sprinkling of trees inwhite and pink blossom and the remainder inyoung leaf. Then in the valley bottom wereclumps of willows in the freshest yellowy green;light green wheat-fields; bunches of chenar treesnot yet in leaf; broad reaches of the placid riverglistening in the sunshine, with numerous boatsgliding gracefully on its surface; and away over thevalley were little clusters of villages, with the landgradually rising to that range of snowy mountainswhich forms the culminating touch of beauty inevery Kashmir scene.
ON THE DAL LAKE IN SPRINGLooking in the opposite direction from the Gaptowards the Dal Lake was a less extensive, butscarcely less attractive scene. On the foregroundof the gentle slopes towards the lake were tall peartrees in fresh white bloom dotted prettily among thefields of new green wheat. Away to the left wasan orchard of peach in the purest and lightest ofpink. Little hamlets nestled among the fruit trees;and immediately beyond them stretched the still,clear lake reflecting in its mirror surface the gracefulwillows and chenar trees by its edge, and the mountainranges by which it was encircled. As it seemedfloating in its midst lay the famous Isle of Chenarsmirrored again in its glassy surface.
By its shorestretched the renowned Moghal gardens—theNishat Bagh and the Shalimar Bagh—with theirgrand avenues of chenars sloping to the water'sedge. Above the far border rose a mountain ridgestill clothed in snow; above that again the loftyHaramokh; and away in the extreme distance laythe fairy Khagan snows, while on the whole scenethere swam a purple-bluey haze, growing more purpleand more blue the more distant it fell, and givingto all a softening sense of peace and ease.
Fortenderness of restful beauty this scene is not excelled.So far the weather had been exceptionally fineand warm for the season, and the rainfall to datefrom the commencement of the year had beenthree inches below the normal; but now a wet spellset in such as one has to expect in the spring inKashmir, which is always very uncertain. OnApril 12th there were 2¾ inches of rain. The totalfor the year now exceeded the normal by fourinches. The river rapidly rose ten feet, flooded allthe low-lying fields, and seriously threatened theEuropean quarter; and, finally, snow fell inSrinagar itself. The maximum temperature in theshade rose to only 50° while the minimum atnight fell to 33°. It is always the exceptionalwhich happens—in weather at any rate. So thismust not be expected every year.
But somethingelse exceptional will occur whatever year we choose,and there is little use in describing a normal year,for no such year ever comes in real life.On the road into Kashmir very serious breakswere made by the rain and by the melting snow andthe mud floods which it brought down. Wholestretches of road were completely carried away andwiped out of existence. Bridges were broken;and so dangerous were the falling boulders, thatone European was knocked straight into the JhelumRiver and drowned, and several natives werebadly injured.
ENTRANCE TO THE MAR CANALYet another attractive spot near Srinagar isthe site of the original city founded by Asoka atPandrathan, three miles distant on the Islamabadroad. Here at the end of a spur running downfrom the mountains and jutting out to meet abend in the river, stands the remains of an immensemonolith lingam on the levelled edge of the spur,eighty feet or so above the river. Immediatelybeneath is a majestic bend of the river, and oneApril evening when I visited the sight I lookedout from the raised plateau up two glisteningreaches, bordered by fresh green grass and overhungby graceful willows and poplars in theirnewest foliage. The wheat-fields on the oppositebank were a brilliant emerald, and the fields ofglowing yellow mustard and young linseed interspersedwith scarlet poppies gave a relievingtouch of colour. All the valley was dotted overwith picturesque hamlets half-hidden in clumps ofwillow and over-towering chenar trees. Therecent floods gave a lake-like appearance to themiddle distance. On the right the temple on theTakht-i-Suliman formed a graceful feature in thescene; and from there completely round the semicircleto the distant left stretched the dreamysnowy mountains, hazy immediately under the sun,but white and distinct when the evening sunstruck full upon them.
A more fitting site forworship could hardly be found.In full summer the Kashmir valley is, perhaps,in its least interesting condition. The snow hasnearly melted from the mountains. They are oftenhidden by heat-haze or dust.
The fruit blossomsare all over. The yellow mustard and the bluelinseed in the fields have gone to seed. The greenof the trees has lost its freshness; and the prevailingtones are heavy greens and browns. Theweather too is sultry. The thermometer rises to95° or 97° in the shade.
A heavy, lethargic feelingoppresses one. Mosquitoes appear in swarms.And by the end of June every one who can fleesto Gulmarg, to Pahlgam in the Lidar valley, toSonamarg in the Sind, to Gurais and to thenumerous other cool mountain resorts. THE TEMPLE, CHENAR BAGHBut early in September the valley renews itscharms and visitors return. The atmosphere hasbeen freshened and cooled by the rains which,though they fall lightly in the valley itself, are oftenheavy on the surrounding mountains. The riperice-fields show an expanse of green and yellowoften two or three miles in extent.
The villages,dirty and untidy at close quarters, it is true, butnestling among the chenars, willows, poplars,walnuts, and mulberries, show as entrancing islandsamidst the sea of rice. Ponies browse among themarshes up to their knees in water; and groups ofcattle graze along the grassy edge of the streamsand water-ducts.The sun is still powerful in the daytime, and thesky usually bright and clear. But the monsoonwill often make a few final efforts.
One such dayI note when voluminous masses of cloud rolled upfrom behind the Pir Panjal to a height of twenty-fiveor thirty thousand feet, their westward edgesaglow from the setting sun, and showing clear anddistinct against the background of pinky light bluesky, while the great main volume remained dark,heavy, and sombre, with now and then a spit oflightning flashing out, and on the far side, awayfrom the setting sun, threatening tentacles stretchedout across the valley in unavailing effort to reachthe mountains on the northern side. Under thesemighty monsoon masses even the great mountainslooked dwarfed and puny. RUINS OF LALLA ROOKH'S GARDENS, LAKE MANASBALThe great broad reaches in the river, glisteningin the sunlight and fringed with the rich autumnalfoliage, were superlatively beautiful. Shadipur, atthe junction of the Sind River, where there is alittle temple on an island and hoary old chenarsdrooping over it to the water's surface, was a dreamof all that is most lovely. And the ManasbalLake, so fresh and deep and clear, set like a jewelamong the mountains, with clumps and avenues ofthese same red and purple foliaged trees upon itsedge, and reflecting in its surface the white snowyrange of the distant Pir Panjal, was the supremegem of all Kashmir.
All these are beauties whichone cannot describe, for whatever one may say,the reality must ever remain more beautiful thanthe picture. But perhaps by the unison of penand brush some faint impression of the lovelinessof a Kashmir autumn may yet have been conveyed.This season to the sportsman also is the mostenjoyable. For now come in the duck and geesefrom far-away Siberia, halting here for a time inthe lakes and marshes on their way to India.
Ihave already described a duck-shoot in spring. Inthe autumn there is still finer shooting, for theduck have come in fresh and are in greaternumbers than on their return journey. A LADAKI IN SUMMER COSTUMEAfter 1891 I did not see Shukar Ali forseventeen years, for my travels never took me tothat frontier again. But I heard of him fromDr. Sven Hedin who employed him in Tibet,and who told me of the wonderful tales which theimaginative Shukar Ali related of the journeys wehad made together. And last summer the dearold man suddenly appeared at the Residency.He had heard that I was now Resident, and hadwalked 240 miles across the mountains to see me,and he presented himself wearing the identical coatI had given him seventeen years ago. He keptjumping up and down, first kissing my feet, thentouching my coat, then salaaming, and all the timeejaculating an unceasing flow of speech, callingme by every affectionate term.
Then from undernumerous folds of his clothing he produced awooden bowl, a bag full of sweets, a pair of goathorns for my wife and myself, and a marvellouscollection of showy-looking stones which he hadpicked up in Tibet for my little girl.He remained with me for a few weeks.I gave him something to keep him comfortableat home, but which I am sure in his goodnature he will let his relations squeeze out of him,and then I sent him off back to Ladak. But beforehe left I asked the Maharaja to give him an orderexempting him from service in his village. HisHighness, with his usual kindness, readily acceded.An order was made out with the Maharaja's ownsignature attached, and at a garden-party at theResidency Shukar Ali was had up and presentedwith the order. His Highness addressed him ina most kindly manner, and on the followingday presented him in Durbar with a shawl ofhonour.Poor Shukar Ali left with many tearful farewellexpressions, and a few weeks later I receivedfrom him the following letter:—.
MARKET BOATS ON THE MAR CANAL, SRINAGARPerhaps Srinagar never looks more beautiful thanin the fulness of spring towards the end of April,when the Maharaja arrives from Jammu and entershis summer capital by boat. On such occasionsthe Resident and his staff, all the State officials,and many of the Europeans resident in Srinagar, goby boat to meet His Highness some distance belowthe city. The Maharaja arrived this year on themost perfect day in spring. Before the time ofhis arrival the river was alive with craft of everydescription, from the Resident's state barge ofenormous length, and manned by about fifty rowersdressed in scarlet, to light shikaras, and even twomotor boats. As we emerged from the townthe banks on either side were covered with freshgreen grass. The poplars and some magnificentchenar trees overhanging the river were in theirfreshest foliage.
And coming up a long reach ofthe broad glistening river was the Maharaja'sflotilla, with their long lines of red and of blueoarsmen giving colour to the scene.The two flotillas joined and slowly made theirway through the city. On either side were piledup masses of wooden houses, some low, some high,some leaning to one side, some to the other,—nonestraight and no two alike. All were crowded withpeople craning at the windows to see the procession.From many hung shawls, the distinctivedecoration of the city for state occasions. Andmost striking and most beautiful feature of all,and only to be seen at this time of year and inKashmir, the earth-covered roofs were now coveredwith fresh green grass, with delicate mauve irises,and in some few cases with the gorgeous scarletKashmir tulip. ABOVE THE FIFTH BRIDGE, SRINAGARThe sixth and most of the other bridges ofSrinagar are built up on piers of crossed horizontallogs of wood. They occupy much of the riverway, but are very distinctive, and harmonise mostpicturesquely with the wooden houses of the city.They were all crowded with people. And on thebanks near one were assembled many hundreds ofschool-boys carrying small flags, which they wavedas the Maharaja passed, and shouted 'Eep, eep, ra!Eep, eep, ra!'
Continuously for many minutes inimitation of the British cheer. Mottoes of welcomewere stretched across the houses in places, someinvoking long life for the King-Emperor, and othersexpressing loyal wishes for the Maharaja. Betweenthe third and fourth bridges are the shops of mostof the chief bankers and merchants, big, handsome,picturesque buildings of small bricks and woodwork,with semicircular balconies jutting out overthe river and pretty carved and lattice-workwindows.
MOSQUE OF SHAH HAMADAN, SRINAGARThe Jama MasjidThe largest and most striking, though not themost beautiful, of the Mohamedan buildings inSrinagar is the Jama Masjid, which was built bythe Emperor Shah Jehan. It is constructed ofwood throughout, and is in the form of a squareenclosing a courtyard. The main building, ofcourse, faces Mecca. Here there is a forest ofpillars all of single deodar trees, and remarkablefor their height and grace. A staircase leads onto the roof, from which a good view over the seaof mud-roofed houses of Srinagar may be obtained.Taken as a whole the building is not veryremarkable. The graceful steeples, of the stylecharacteristic of Kashmir, in the centre of eachface are worthy of note. But all is in disrepairand neglected, and is hardly worthy of a city ofover a hundred thousand Mohamedans.Shah Hamadan MasjidA more beautiful building than the JamaMasjid is the graceful Mosque of Shah Hamadan,situated close upon the river, and a very favouriteobject for artists and photographers.
It also isbuilt of wood with pointed steeple, beautifullycarved eaves and hanging bells, like most of theMohamedan structures in Kashmir.Other BuildingsScattered throughout the city are othermosques of much the same style of architecture.There are also several Hindu temples of the usualtype, and not especially characteristic of Kashmir.Dr. Neve's HospitalConspicuous above the European quarter standthe group of buildings known all over Kashmiras Dr. Neve's Hospital, a mission hospital which,with Mr.
Biscoe's School, is the most sincerelyappreciated of all the efforts which Europeanshave made for the welfare of the Kashmir people.Last year no less than 22,735 new out-patientswere treated, and the total number of visitsamounted to 56,280. 1764 in-patients, of whom476 were females, were also treated; and 5038surgical operations were performed. Sometimesover 200 out-patients, and on a few days over 300out-patients, were treated in a single day. Thesefigures speak for themselves. They show theconfidence the people now have in the wonderfulinstitution and the steady practical good it isdoing.
The heads of the hospital are the brothersDrs. Arthur and Ernest Neve; and they areassisted by Dr. Rawlence, Miss Neve, MissRobinson, Mr. Wilson, and 54 native assistantsand servants.
A HINDU TEMPLE, SRINAGARThe hospital was founded in 1865 by Dr.Elsmie, who for many years had uphill work instarting the institution, but at length gained theconfidence of the people and of the late Maharaja.Dr. Downes succeeded Dr.
Elsmie, and carriedthe work forward. Neve took it up.In that year 10,800 new patients were treated;there were 23,393 visits, and 1418 operationswere performed. Year by year since then thegood work has progressed. The original mud-buildingshave gradually been replaced by thepresent solid masonry structures. And the steadygrowth of the number of in-patients, and thereadiness with which even upper-class womenremain in the hospital, testify to the confidencewith which the institution is now regarded. Itis now renowned through all the north of India,and is a splendid testimony to the steady,thorough, and persevering work of two self-sacrificingmen.The Takht-i-SulimanThe most conspicuous object in the neighbourhoodof Srinagar is the Takht-i-Suliman, a hillexactly a thousand feet above the valley plain, andsurmounted by an ancient Hindu temple.
Bothfor the sake of the view over the valley, up thereaches of the Jhelum, and down on to the DalLake and the city of Srinagar immediately at thefoot, and also to see the older temple even nowfrequented by pilgrims from all over India, a climbto the summit is well repaid.The temple is believed to have been dedicatedto Jyesthesvara, a form of the god Siva. It was atone time thought that it was built 220 b.c., but itis now believed by the best authorities that whilethe massive basement and stairs are remains of anancient building (possibly Gopaditya's, as Dr. Steinthinks), the present superstructure may be of laterdate. The roof is certainly modern, but the templeas a whole probably belongs to the same period asthe other temples in Kashmir.It is of the typical Hindu plan of a squarewith recessed corners, and is built like all theancient Kashmir temples of massive blocks ofstones. IN THE MAR CANAL, SRINAGARPandrathanThree miles up the river from Srinagar is the siteof what is very probably the original city of Srinagarfounded by Asoka.
The name of Pandrathan nowgiven to the village is identified with the Puranadhisthana,or 'ancient capital' of the records, andthis has been presumed to be the same as Srinagarfounded by Asoka, the Buddhist king. But of thiscity nothing now remains, and the picturesquetemple there is of later date.
It was built by theminister Meruvad-dhana in the beginning of thetenth century, and dedicated to Vishnu.The Dal LakeThe Dal Lake, with the canal leading into it,and the various gardens on its shores, is one of thechief attractions of the neighbourhood of Srinagar.It is always lovely, but perhaps at no season morebeautiful than early in May. Passing through thelock known as the Dal Darwaza, we glide throughchannels of still, transparent water hedged in byreeds and willows.
On the right rises the Takht-i-Sulimanimmediately out of the lake. In frontare the snowy ranges bordering the Sind valley.Numerous side-channels branch off and intersect.The shores are covered with market gardens.Country boats laden with their produce continuallypass, usually propelled by some old man or womansquatting at the extreme prow, and balancing himor herself there with extraordinary confidence andskill. Numerous kingfishers of brilliant sky-blueplumage flash across the water; and gorgeousyellow-golden orioles dart from tree to tree.Clumps of noble chenar trees with the Kashmirchalet houses are grouped along the banks, andoften overhang the mirror waters.
Orchards ofquince trees with their delicate pink and whiteblossom and fields of brilliant yellow mustard linethe shores. Cows and their calves, sheep and theirlittle lambs, graze on the fresh green grass; andpretty but dirty little children, geese and goslings,ducks and ducklings, dabble in.