ay decidedly wet; but,
in spite of the hospitable blandishments of our kind hosts, we were most
anxious to get on, as, having arranged with the Smithsons to go into the
Astor district to shoot, it was most important to reach Srinagar before
the first of April--the day upon which the shooting passes were to be
issued to sportsmen in rotation of application. Knowing that only ten
passes were to be given for Astor, and that several men were ahead of me,
I felt that we were running it somewhat fine to leave only three days for
the journey.

General Woon, who knew Kashmir well, did his very best to dissuade us from
attempting the passes into Astor, reading to us gloomy extracts from his
journal, and pointing out that it was no fit country for a lady in early
spring.

He did much to shake our enthusiasm, but still I felt we must do our best
to "keep tryst" with the Smithsons. So, on Tuesday, we sent on the heavy
luggage in two ekkas which Sabz Ali had procured, the two others being
only hired from Hassan Abdal to Abbotabad.

Sabz Ali had pointed out that, although he himself was a wonderful man,
and could do almost, if not quite, everything, a second servant would be
greatly to our (and his) advantage. So, acting on my permission, he
engaged one Ayata--a gentle person of a sheep-like disposition, who did
everything he was told, and nothing that he was told not to, during our
sojourn in Kashmir.

[1] Robertson's _India_, Appendix.

CHAPTER IV

ABBOTABAD TO SRINAGAR

Dismal tidings came in of floods and storms on the Hassan Abdal road. The
river had swollen, and both men and beasts had been swept away while
trying to cross. Undeterred, however, by such news, even when backed by
warnings and persuasions from our friends, we set forth in the rain
yesterday morning. The prospect was not cheerful--a grey veil of cloud lay
over all the surrounding hills, here and there deepening into dark and
angry thunder-clouds. The road was desperately heavy, but the General had
most kindly sent on a pair of mules ahead, and, with another pair in the
shafts, our own nags took a holiday as far as Manserah.

The weather grew worse. It rained very heavily and thundered with great
vigour, and as we straggled up the deeply-muddied slope to the dak
bungalow at Manserah we felt somewhat low; but we did not in the least
realise what was before us!

Our road had lain through fairly level plains, with low cuttings here and
there, where th