The murg of Killun is too high up to be frequented as a camping-ground; supplies are very difficult to be got, everything having to be carried up from the bazaar which the Resident had got established for the necessaries of life at Gulmurg. Rain is more frequent there than lower down. But, all the same, it is a capital place for a picnic. We often dined with the Resident and his wife, whose camp was pitched high up on the green hill which overlooks on one side Gulmurg, and on the other the Happy Valley. Our departure after dinner on dark nights was remarkable, and like a triumphal procession. The ‘Gascon captain’ and the ‘Chokedar’ were both in attendance with blazing flambeaux of pine wood, which burn like lamps, owing to the liquid turpentine which they contain. One preceded us, armed to the teeth, while the other followed, with his head all wrapped up to keep out the cold air. Occasionally a difference of opinion arose between the rival light-bearers as to the correctness of the path to pursue. The ponies usually decided the question by taking a line of their own, and the joyful welcome of our four dogs proved that the log-fire we had been making for was the right one. We were struck by the absence of small birds. The woods are silent during the day, but at night large owls scream with a weird and mournful sound. Much as we were enjoying our life at Gulmurg, we felt, if we were thoroughly to explore the Valley of Cashmere, there was no more time to linger; so reluctantly the order was given to strike tents and to move on. We returned to Srinagur for a few days before starting again on another expedition. Great part of our time was passed in Summad Shah’s shawl-room, where we chose some beautiful shawls for friends at home and for my wife. Nothing combines lightness with warmth so perfectly as a chuddar--there is no more comfortable dressing-gown than a choga, the ordinary dress of a better-class native. Of course, we had an immense deal of bargaining to go through, but we had a fair idea of what we ought to give both for shawls and dressing-gowns. On the true Cashmerian principle of no business transaction being possible without ‘backsheesh,’ the chief man of our boat’s crew anxiously, and apparently as a matter of course, watched our purchases, he being entitled to a percentage on the same, and so also was my bearer. My wife, too, claimed that a something should be thrown in with the shawls, and Summad Shah presented her with a pretty silk many-coloured, hand-worked table-cover. I think all parties were satisfied. CHAPTER XIII. TRAVELLING IN CASHMERE.