As we gazed on the river so near us, and watched the gondolas skimming past, we became aware that a crowd had assembled in front of our house. ‘Me papier-maché man--me show you fine things--_me come up_.’ ‘Me Soubona jeweller--very cheap--_me come up_.’ ‘Me leather man--me bring shot-bags, sandals--_me come up_.’ ‘Me shawl man--very fine, very cheap--_me come up_,’ and so on, the ‘me come ups’ becoming really alarming by the constant repetition of the words. So I assumed the attitude of a popular candidate for parliamentary honours and requested them to ‘retire till a future occasion,’ and, finding they were losing time, they vanished. Gradually the boats, riders, and pedestrians became fewer, night came on apace, and we were glad to say ‘Good night.’ Next morning we engaged a shikarrah, a miniature of the boat in which we had come up the river. It was thirty-six feet long, by three and a half wide, and one foot deep. Our shikarrah had a flush deck and awning. The crew consisted of six men, who propelled the boat with heart-shaped paddles. These craft, which are used by everyone like gondolas at Venice, seem to fly through the water. My wife and I reclined on rugs and pillows, and gave the word to proceed to Summud Shah, the great shawl-merchant. The entrance to this great man’s house is by a flight of stone steps, which are washed by the river. Through a fine gateway we passed into a courtyard, and then, ascending stairs, we were ushered into the shawl-room. Summud Shah received us arrayed in an ample gown, like a night-dress. He could not speak a word of English, but by his courteous actions seemed to say: ‘All I have is yours--if you pay me well.’ We were handed to chairs placed on a divan, and then business began. What a collection of magnificent shawls! But oh, how wearisome! Our host gave us Ladok tea, which is not unpleasant to the taste. Instead of cream, a slice of lemon floats in the cup. Summud Shah was the banker at Srinagur, and was most attentive to our wants during the whole of our stay in Cashmere. We saw two kinds of shawls. Those made by loom, and those by hand. Some time after this visit, we were wandering through a poor part of the town, when we observed a number of men with very weak eyes. Our guide informed us that these were workers of Cashmere shawls, and that the work they were engaged in was the cause of the weakness of their eyes, and in some of total loss of sight. We visited some of their houses, and found them occupied sewing the graceful patterns on small patches of canvas. When these are completed, they are all united together, and form the beautiful shawls, some of which we had been admiring. We were also told that, when the shawls were first introduced, the inventors were in the custom of ascending the hill above the town, from which there is a fine view of the Jhellum, winding and turning in the valley beneath, and that the tortuous pattern of the Cashmere shawls is a copy of the river’s windings.