and solemn in their endless perspective.

Here a jangling note, out of tune and harsh, was struck by the dobie, with
whom we had a grave difference of opinion regarding the washing.

That gentleman having "lost by neglect" certain articles of my kit--to wit
sundry shirts and other garments--and having rendered others completely
_hors de combat_ by reason of his sinful method of washing, I decided to
"cut" three rupees off his remuneration.

This decision seemed to have taken from him all that life held of worth,
and he implored me to spare his wife, children, and home, all of whom
would be broken up and ruined if I were cruel enough, to enforce my awful
threat. Seeing that I was obdurate, being well backed by the infuriated
Jane, whose underwear showed far more lace and open work than nature
intended, the wretched dobie melted into loud and tearful lamentation, and
perched himself howling in the prow. This soon became so boresome that I
deported him to Hesketh's boat, where he underwent another defeat at the
hands of that irate Lancer, whose shirts and temper had suffered together;
finally the woeful washerman, still howling lugubriously, was landed on
the river bank, and we saw and heard him no more!

Down the gentle river we swiftly glided all day, while the Takht and Hari
Parbat grew smaller and bluer, and Srinagar lay below them invisible in
its swathing greenery.

Reaching Sumbal at sunset, we turned to the left down a narrow canal, and
soon the Wular lay--a sheet of molten gold--upon our right; and by the
time we had moored alongside a low strip of reedy bank, the glorious rosy
lights had faded from the snows of the Pir Panjal, and their royal purple
and gold had turned to soft ebony against the primrose of the sky.

A few hungry mosquitoes worried us somewhat before sunset, promising worse
to follow; but the sharp little breeze that came flickering over the Wular
after dark seemed to upset their plans, and send them shivering and hungry
to shelter among the reeds and rushes.

This morning we crossed the Wular, starting as the first pale dawn showed
over the eastern hills.

Before the sun rose over Apharwat, his shafts struck the higher snows and
turned them rosy; while the lower slopes, their distant pines suffused
with strong purple, stood reflected in the placid mirror of the lake.

"Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain tops with sovran eye,"

but seldom a more lovely on