It must be difficult for the keepers to know to whom the different horses belong. Most of them are the property of the Maharajah, but some are not. I suppose they have a distinguishing mark. The Resident of Cashmere, Colonel Cracroft, was most prince-like in his ideas of hospitality. No one could be more courteous and kindly than were both he and his wife. They endeavoured in every way to promote our amusement and good-fellowship. A hearty welcome was given to everyone who was bid to their hospitable board. Cricket was established as well as archery; polo was also greatly patronised. Time flew gaily among the woods and flowers of Gulmurg. It was a pretty sight to see the care-takers of the innumerable mares and foals call their horses home at the fall of day by the sound of a long-prolonged cry which the guardians gave. A stampede ensued, and from hidden nooks and glens numbers of mares gallopped towards the man whose voice they knew. Some moved with a long stride, while others cantered quietly, followed by their little foals. From our green hill it was amusing to note the different manœuvres these wild horses went through. They formed up in troops, and changed front in a compact form. The place to which they had been called was not enclosed, but was at the entrance of the valley, and no straggling was allowed, owing to the dread of wild beasts. One day I saw a great number of vultures collected in the valley immediately in front of our position; with my glasses I could see that a poor little foal had died, and that its carcase was being devoured by these horrid foul scavengers of the East; but my disgust can be imagined when through the same glasses I saw Polly, the pug, enjoying herself quite as much as the gorged carrion crows. If there was not a row soon established at that detestable feast, it was not the fault of our servants, for the Gascon captain, chokedar, and syces, led on by M’Kay, charged down among these festive guests. Polly was seized, and washed, and rubbed, and if anyone had been ill, and wanted castor oil, Polly, if she could have spoken, would have informed any inquirers where most of the bottle had gone to. Polly was a very greedy little animal. At a croquet-party given by General Dunsford at Peshawur we were all deeply engaged showing our science at that now obsolete game, when, happening to turn round, I saw the pug on the table, surrounded by strawberries and sugar, which she did not appreciate, but up to the eyes in a large jug of cream, which had been provided by our hospitable host for his guests. On a knoll in the valley, across the clear running stream, a little church, constructed of deodars and green branches, had been erected. Here every Sunday a small congregation assembled, and it was very touching to join in the service in this far-off beautiful land. The clergyman was chaplain to the 79th Highlanders, and he took great interest in his little church in the vale.