rely perplexed, and almost at our wits' end, the Gordian knot was cut by
our being offered a small hut which had been occupied by a clerk in the
State employ, now absent, and which the Resident most kindly placed at our
disposal for a merely nominal rent. Needless to say we gratefully accepted
the offer, in spite of the assurance that the hut was of very minute
dimensions.

_Sunday, July_ 2.--Yesterday we toiled hard in the heat to get everything
in train for a move to Gulmarg. Subhana, that excellent tailor and
embroiderer, arranged to have all our heavy luggage sent up to meet us on
the 10th, and from him, too, we arranged for the hire of such furniture as
we might require, for we knew that the hut was bare as the cupboard of
nursery fame.

This morning we set off down the river to keep tryst with the Smithsons at
Gangabal, where we hope to meet them about the 5th on their way back from
Tilail. The usual struggle with the crew resulted, also as usual, in our
favour, and we got right through to Gunderbal at the mouth of the Sind
River, where we now lie amid a flotilla of boats whose occupiers have fled
away from the sultriness and smelliness of Srinagar in search of the cool
currents, both of air and water, which are popularly supposed to flow down
the Sind.

As Jane and I returned from a visit to the post-office along a sweltering
path among the rice-fields, from which warm waves of air rose steaming
into the sunset, we failed to observe the celebrated and superior coolness
of Gunderbal'

_Thursday, July_ 6.--The lumbadhar of Gunderbal, in spite of his
magnificent name, is a rascal of the deepest dye. He put much water in our
milk, to the furious disgust of Sabz Ali, and he failed to provide the
coolies I had ordered; I therefore reported him to Chattar Singh, and sent
my messengers forth, like another Lars Porsena, to catch coolies.

This was early on Tuesday morning, and a sufficient number of ponies and
coolies having been got together by 5.30, we started.

I may here note that, owing to a confusion between _Gunderbal_ (the port,
so to speak, of the Sind Valley, and route to Leh and Thibet) and
_Gangabal_, a lake lying some 12,000 feet above the sea behind Haramok,
our arrangement to meet the Smithsons at Gangabal was altered by a letter
from them announcing their imminent arrival at Gunderbal! This was
perturbing, but as the mistake was not ours, we decided not to allow
ourselves to be baulked of a trip for