There were formerly seven forts at Tshamūgar. A convention had been made between the Rajah of Gilgit and the Rajah of Skardo, by which Tshamūgar was divided by the two according to the natural division which a stream that comes down from the Batkôr mountain made in that territory. The people of Tshamūgar, impatient of the Skardo rule, became all of them subjects to the Gilgit Rajah, on which Sher Shah Ali Shah, the ruler of Skardo, collected an army, and crossing the Makpon-i-shagaron[38] at the foot of the Haramûsh mountain, came upon Tshamūgar and diverted the water which ran through that district into another direction. This was the reason of the once fertile Tshamūgar becoming deserted; the forts were razed to the ground. There are evidently traces of a river having formerly run through Tshamūgar. The people say that the Skardo Rajah stopped the flow of the water by throwing quicksilver into it. This is probably a legend arising from the reputation which Ahmad Shah, the most recent Skardo ruler whom the Guraizis can remember, had of dabbling in medicine and sorcery.[39] CHILASI SONGS. [The Chilasis have a curious way of snapping their fingers, with which practice they accompany their songs, the thumb running up and down the fingers as on a musical instrument.] 10. CHILASI. Tù hùn Gítshere bódje sòmmo dímm bamèm Mèy shahínni pashalóto dewà salám dáute Rás; Aje góje bómto méy dùddi aje nush Hargìnn Zúe déy mo bejómos Samat Khánay sóni mó báshémm tutàk Mùugà deyto; mó dabtar dèm 11. A. Tshekòn thónn; tikki wéy nush, oh Berader Adòn; thōn; madéy nush; ey Berader B. Hamírey tshûki, púki thàs, palútos Ni rátey ló ne bĕy, oh Berader! The last word in each sentence, as is usual with all Shín songs, is repeated at the beginning of the next line. I may also remark that I have accentuated the words _as pronounced in the songs_ and not as put down in my Vocabulary. _Translation._ MESSAGE TO A SWEETHEART BY A FRIEND. You are going up to Gitshe, oh my dearest friend, Give my compliment and salute when you see my hawk. Speak to her. I must now go into my house; my mother is no more And I fear the sting of that dragon,[40] my step-mother— Oh noble daughter of Samat Khan; I will play the flute And give its price and keep it in my bosom. The second song describes a quarrel between two brothers who are resting after a march on some hill far away from any water or food wherewith to refresh themselves. _Younger brother._—Am I to eat now, what am I to say, there is, oh my brother, neither bread nor water. Am I to fetch some [water] what am I to say, there is no masak [a water-skin], oh my brother! _Elder brother._—The lying nonsense of Hamir (the younger brother) wounds me deeply (tears off the skin of my heart). There will be no day to this long night, oh my brother! 12. THE TRANSITORINESS OF THIS WORLD.