As we passed through a village, the little naked children rushed forth clapping their hands and shouting: ‘Ho! tomasha wallah. Ho!’ To be taken for a party of travelling jugglers increased the delight, but not the dignity of the wanderers. Before daylight the march was begun, and when morning broke we had left the low land, and were beginning the ascent of the real mountains. A slight shower brightened everything. The note of the cuckoo, so home-like and sweet, the fir-trees refreshed by the rain, the balmy, bracing morning air, all made our hearts rejoice. We toiled up through pine forests, among which were many fine deodars blasted by lightning. We arrived in due time at Baba-murchi, where we were met by two of my brother officers, who were looking out for us, and welcomed us with the intelligence, ‘We have breakfast ready for you,’ a most satisfactory meeting. Need I say how we appreciated the meal provided for us by these two kind friends, one of whom now rests in his grave in India; but we were longing for news of the outside world, not having met anyone in our brief halt at Srinagur. They told us of rumours of disturbances among the hill tribes near Peshawur, always an anxious report for officers on leave, as, if anything serious breaks out, it means recall to the plains. However, the air of Cashmere makes one look on the bright side of things, and it was with wills resolved thoroughly to enjoy our holiday as long as it lasted that we got on our horses and proceeded on our way. For two or three miles our road continued ascending through pine forests, but at length, like ‘Lord Lovel’s brier-er-r, It couldn’t get high-er-r,’ so we began the short descent to the Vale of Gulmurg. Gulmurg means the ‘meadow of flowers,’ and in few places in the world except Cashmere could such a pleasant spot be found. The long, narrow green valley, on whose sweet grass many mares and foals were grazing, is traversed by a clear stream of pure water. On each side of the valley are high broad banks, on which grow lofty deodars. On one side the bank goes up, still covered with pines, till it joins the hill behind it, and then it rises upward and upward till it reaches the line where the snow always lies. In snug nooks above the valley were to be found various tents. Gulmurg is the most favourite resort for the less adventurous visitors to Cashmere. It was a pretty sight, for the encampments were many, and each one had some decoration, either of arbours or flags, to enliven the scene.