Kashmir by Sir Younghusband Francis Edward (paper ebook reader .txt) ๐
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KOTWAL FROM THE FOREST ABOVE KANGAN, SIND VALLEY
Still, in spite of the exertion and in spite of the disappointment, a day like this on the mountain-side is felt as one of the days in which one lives. The air was fresh and bracing. There was something both soothing and inspiring in the quiet of the mountains and the immense distances before me. Far away to the south majestic clouds and snowstorms were sweeping along the snowy range of the Pir Panjal. Beneath was the placid river wending its tortuous way through the peaceful valley. On one hand would be seen angry storm-clouds rolling threateningly across with numerous sun-rays piercing through and lighting up the serpentine course of the river. On the other, emerging from the black masses, would appear the sunlit snowy range, not hard, defined, and clear, and rooted on earth, but to all appearances hung from the heavens like an ethereal transparency.
Hour after hour I alternately feasted on the changing scenes displayed across the valley, and with my field-glasses searched the mountain-side for bara-singh. When evening closed in I returned to camp, where business kept me on the following day, but on the day after I again rode out while it was yet dark. As the first faint signs of dawn appeared I began the ascent of the mountain with the shikaris. The heavens were clear and cloudless. The bluey-black of the sky imperceptibly faded into grey. The mountain slowly turned from grey to brown as we steadily worked upward. The reposeful stillness which is the characteristic charm of the mountains was only broken by the cheerful chuckle of the chikor, or the occasional twitter of a bird calling to its mate. Then as we reached the summit of a ridge, and I looked out through the greys and browns, a sudden thrill struck through me as, all unexpectedly, my eye lit on the long flush of rosy pink which the yet unrisen sun had thrown upon the distant mountains, and which was the more pronounced and striking because their skyey background and their base was still the grey of night. Not often does one see a range of rosy mountains. And even now the effect lasted for a short time only. For rapidly a faint blue drowned the grey. The sky grew bluer and bluer. The valley became filled with light. But, alas! the rosy pink that had flushed the snowy summits faded imperceptibly away to barren whiteness. The whole long range of mountains showed themselves out with admirable clearness, but distinctly rooted in the unromantic brown of the valley.
ABOVE THE CAMPING-GROUND, SONAMARG, SIND VALLEY
By seven we were at the summit of the mountain with the sun now shining full upon us, the air crisp and frosty-the very ideal of young and vigorous day. We marched steadily along the ridge searching the hollows on either side for stag, but all we saw was a boar breaking the ice in a pool on the ridge to get a morning drink. At length we halted for refreshment and rest still on the summit of the ridge with the most beautiful valley on earth spread out in all its loveliness 3000 feet below, and the heavenly snowy range bounding the horizon from end to end before us. Just faintly the sounds from some village below would be wafted to us through the clear still air. But otherwise we seemed serenely apart from the noisy turmoil of humanity; and bathed in the warm noonday sunlight I was able to drink in all the spirit of the loveliness around me.
And there came upon me this thought, which doubtless has occurred to many another besides myselfโwhy the scene should so influence me and yet make no impression on the men about me. Here were men with far keener eyesight than my own, and around me were animals with eyesight keener still. Their eyes looked on the same scene as mine did, and could distinguish each detail with even greater accuracy. Yet while I lay entranced with its exquisite beauty the keen-eyed shikaris, the animals, and the soaring eagle above me, might have been stone blind for all the impression of beauty it left upon them. Clearly it is not the eye, but the soul that sees. But then comes the still further reflectionโwhat may there not be staring me straight in the face which I am as blind to as the Kashmir stags are to the beauties amidst which they spend their entire lives? The whole panorama may be vibrating with beauties man has not yet the soul to see. Some already living, no doubt, see beauties that we ordinary men cannot appreciate. It is only a century ago that mountains were looked upon as hideous. And in the long centuries to come may we not develop a soul for beauties unthought of now? Undoubtedly we must. And often in reverie on the mountains I have tried to imagine what still further loveliness they may yet possess for men.
From clambering over the high mountains in search of a solitary stag to sitting in a boat in the middle of a lake with thousands of ducks incessantly swishing round, is only one other example of the variety of scene and interest which Kashmir affords. There was just time before the end of the season for a final duck shoot, and eight of us rode or drove out six miles from Srinagar to the famous Hokrar Ghat, "jheel," which the Maharaja had so kindly placed at the disposal of the Resident for the season.
THE KAJNAG FROM SOPUR, EARLY SPRING
We meet at the edge of the lake and draw lots for the numbered butts. The shikaris, boatmen, and boats are awaiting us, and as soon as we have decided where each is to go, and have fixed a time to cease shooting as an interval for lunch, and to give the ducks time to settle again for the further shooting in the afternoon, we embark each on a light shallow skiff with our guns, cartridges, and tiffin, and glide out through a narrow channel in the reeds to the open water beyond.
Hokrar is right in the centre of the valley, and from the lake a complete elliptical ring of snowy mountains can be seen. The nearest and most conspicuous peak is Haramokh, 16,903 feet, and 24 miles distant. From this the eye ranges from peak to peak to the Khagan range 70 miles distant in the extreme west of the valley; then along over the Kaj Nag mountains separated by the gorge of the Jhelum River valley from the Pir Panjal range, which forms the southern boundary of the valley with Gulmarg, 24 miles distant, on its southern slopes. Then traversing the whole length of the Pir Panjal range from the highest point, Tatakute, 15,524 feet, the eye falls to the depression over which lies the Banihal Pass, and rising again meets the Kishtwar range 65 miles distant, closing in the valley on the east, from whence the eye wanders on snowy ranges till Haramokh in the north again is met.
The day was another of glorious sunshine, and in the noonday sun the southern range was bathed in dazzling light, the northern showed up sharp and clear with the sun's rays beating straight upon it, while the distant ranges right and left faded away in haze and dreamland. Soft woolly clouds floated along the mountain-sides. A sharp, crisp air freshened one up and broke the water into dancing glittering ripples on which innumerable duck were bobbing up and down.
Here we shot for a couple of hours before tiffin, and afterwards till evening closed in. It was not one of the great shoots like we have in the autumn, and which I will describe later, but was none the less enjoyable, and being the last of the season each made the most of it.
KOTWAL FROM NEAR THE DAL DARWAZA
At the end of March I visited Harwan, a very favourite spot, once the abode of a famous Buddhist saint, and now best known as the site of the reservoir for the water-supply of Srinagar and of the tanks for trout-breeding. Rain had fallen in the night, and heavy clouds hung overhead with only occasional glimpses of intensely clear blue sky between them. But spring was now clearly advancing. The great chenar trees, two and three centuries old, were still bare, but the willows were showing fresh young leaves; the apricot trees were covered with clouds of blossom, pink and white. The mountain-sides were dotted with white wild cherry and pear and apple in full bloom; the ground was often white like snow with the fallen petals; the young hazel-nut leaves gave freshness to the mountain-side; and near at hand were violets, anemones, and cuckoo flowers. The air was rich with the scent of the fruit trees. Swarms of bees were humming around them; butterfliesโtortoise-shell, clouded yellow, and cabbage-whiteโfluttered in the sunshine; and the lively twittering of birdsโbulbuls, goldfinches, wagtails, and titsโgave yet one further evidence of the awakening spring.
Each spot in Kashmir one is inclined to think the most beautiful of allโperhaps because each in some particular excels the rest. Certainly Harwan has many fascinations of its own. Rising sheer behind was a mountain crowned with dark precipices overhung by heavy clouds through which pierced the snowy summit. Clear crystal streams rushed along the valley with a cheery rustling sound. In the middle distance lay the placid Dal Lakeโon the far side overshadowed by the Hari Parbat fort. The main valley was interspersed with village clumps of fresh willow, clouds of fruit blossom, and majestic chenars. In the far distance lay the snowy ranges of the Pir Panjal, the Kaj Nag, and Khagan; and facing round again to the north rose the striking Mahadeo peakโrocky, bold and precipitous, and pine-clad to near the summit.
And one of the further attractions of Kashmir is not only that each spot is so different from the other, but that each spot has a different aspect every day. Bright days are the more numerous, but dull days also have no less striking attractions. The day after our arrival at Harwan was still and heavy; the whole sky was overhung with clouds, though they were high above the mountains, and even the most distant ranges showed up with unusual clearness white and distinct against the grey monotone sky. The stillness and the heavy cloud evidently portended a storm, and in the afternoon the distant horizon grew darker and darker. The snowy mountains were gradually obscured from view. Then the middle distance became black and threatening. At the same time on the mountain craigs behind heavy clouds imperceptibly settled down, and the great cliff grew darker and darker. Blackness seemed to grow all round, and the mountain summits with the angry clouds upon them looked more and more sombre and threatening. Meanwhile all was still and noiseless. Then suddenly out of the stillness came a rush of air. The poplar trees bent like whips. The long shoots of the willow trees lashed
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