Very early next morning we left Dunna for Maira. The path zigzagged down through a wooded brae, and became altogether lost among huge boulders as we approached the river we had to cross. The ascent on the opposite side was steep and rugged. Clouds which had been collecting threatened a storm, and wild gusts of wind foretold rain. We got into the barradurrie, and settled ourselves comfortably. The distant thunder rolled grandly through the mountains above and around us. The elements seemed to be collecting forces for a grand attack at night, and when the darkness came the storm burst upon us, flash succeeded flash in rapid succession, and the thunder pealed forth its mighty voice; the wild wind shrieked through our mud-formed house, and drove the rain and hail into our innermost rooms. The doors and window-shutters banged about in a mad jubilee of diabolical glee. After committing all sorts of havoc, the drunken furies flew before the gale, and the peaceful stars peeped out from the blue heavens, while the waning moon shone sadly on the wearied earth. Still, in the now quiet scene, we could hear the far-off thunder echoing through the high mountains of Cashmere. These sudden storms are very grand. The next morning broke bright and fine, and, as we rode away, the fresh perfume was sweet to us who had left the burning plains so lately. We rode through wooded, park-like scenery, aptly described by an Irish assistant-surgeon we met as ‘quite like a domain.’ Instead of Fenians to annoy the dwellers, there are leopards which destroy the poor Cashmerian wood-cutters. A day or two previous to our arrival, a shepherd had been killed. Our way led up the mountain, and then through woods; our path descended to a river which flows along the valley. High up on the hill on the opposite side was Chikar, the end of that day’s march. Before crossing the river, we passed through many rice-fields, which, as they resemble wet bogs, are not pleasant places to ride in. Numerous cheerful-looking peasants were engaged planting bunches of green grass in rows in the wet and muddy ground. After climbing the steep mountain, we arrived at Chikar, quite ready for the ‘doctor,’ a combination of milk, eggs, and rum beat up together, which M’Kay always had prepared for us, and which seemed to increase our enjoyment of a later breakfast. During the day we sat out on the flat roof of the barradurrie, whence the view was magnificent. In the distance we could see a far-off snowy range, while nearer was a splendid panorama of mountains cultivated at their base, with the rocky summits lost in snow and impenetrable clouds. Every now and then a great dark shadow would skim across the mountain-side, then fade away, and the bright sun would light up the green grass on hill and dale. Faintly borne on the breeze were the voices in the valley beneath, while soaring high in the air a royal eagle would pause for a moment, then swoop away and be lost to our sight.