et
out of the valley the better for our pleasure, if not for our health.

We have been greatly exercised as to how best dispose of the time until
September, for, during the months of July and August, the heat in the
valley is very considerable, and every one seeks the higher summer
retreats. The Smithsons suggested an expedition to Leh, which would,
undoubtedly, have been a most interesting trip, but which would in no wise
have spared us in the matter of heat. Had we started about this time for
Leh we should have reached our destination towards the end of July, and
would therefore have found ourselves setting out again across an arid and
extremely hot country on the return journey somewhere about the middle of
August.

The game did not seem to be worth the candle, and the Smithsons themselves
shied at the idea when it was borne in upon them that there would be
little or no shooting to be done _en route_.

The alternatives seemed to lie between Gulmarg, where most of the beauty
and fashion of Kashmir disports itself during the hot weather, Sonamarg,
and Pahlgam.

Sonamarg, from description, seemed likely to be quiet, not to say dull, as
a residence for two months. One cannot live by scenery alone, and even the
loveliest may become _toujours pate de l'anguille._

Pahlgam suffered in our eyes from the same failing, and our thoughts
turned to Gulmarg. Here, however, a difficulty arose. It is a notoriously
wet place. We heard horrid tales of golf enthusiasts playing in waders,
and of revellers half drowned while returning from dinners in neighbouring
tents.

We thought of rooms in Nedou's Hotel, but our memories of this hostelry in
Srinagar were not altogether sweet, and we did not in the least hanker
after a second edition; moreover, every available room had been engaged
long ago, and it was extremely doubtful, to say the least of it, if the
good Mr. Nedou could do anything for us. The prospect of a two-month
sojourn in a wet tent wherein no fire could ever be lighted, and in which
Jane pictured her frocks and smart hats lying in their boxes all crumpled
and shorn of their dainty freshness, was far from enticing!

Tent existence, when one lives the simple life far from the madding crowd,
clad in puttoo and shooting-boots, or grass shoes, is delightful; but tent
life in the midst of a round of society functions--golf, polo, with their
attendant teas and dinners--was not to be thought of without grave
misgiving.

So