He remained with me for a few weeks. I gave him something to keep him comfortable at home, but which I am sure in his good nature he will let his relations squeeze out of him, and then I sent him off back to Ladak. But before he left I asked the Maharaja to give him an order exempting him from service in his village. His Highness, with his usual kindness, readily acceded. An order was made out with the Maharaja's own signature attached, and at a garden-party at the Residency Shukar Ali was had up and presented with the order. His Highness addressed him in a most kindly manner, and on the following day presented him in Durbar with a shawl of honour.

Poor Shukar Ali left with many tearful farewell expressions, and a few weeks later I received from him the following letter:—

All this, however, is a digression, and I have to describe the normal modes of travel of the present day. Srinagar is 196 miles distant from the railway at Rawal Pindi, and is connected with it by a good cart-road—good, that is in its normal condition, but excessively bad after heavy rain, when at places the whole mountain-side slides down with the road into the river. The usual mode of conveyance is a tonga, a very common form of vehicle in the Indian "hills." It has two wheels, is drawn by a pair of ponies, has four seats back to back, and carries a mountain of luggage piled up on the splash-boards and on the roof. The ponies, when the season is not crowded and the road is good, gallop at full speed, and are changed every five or six miles. In the full part of the season, which generally coincides with the heaviest fall of rain, with much beating, pulling, and shouting they can scarcely be induced to reach a trot, and may think themselves lucky if they find a change at the end of their stage.

Other means of conveyance for which extra charge is made are landaus and victorias. These, though more comfortable, are heavier for the ponies, and are more difficult to manipulate over bad places in the rainy season.

Spare baggage and servants can be brought up in the ordinary Indian ckka which, with one pony without changes, takes six to eight days to reach Srinagar; or in bullock carts which take fourteen days.

Tongas will take two, three, four or more days according to the length of the day, the nature of the road, and the disposition of the traveller. The tonga carrying the English mail, travelling almost continuously, covers the distance in thirty-six hours. In the long summer days travellers, starting early, can accomplish the journey in two days.

Every fourteen miles or so is a dak bungalow, where for the payment of one rupee a furnished room is provided, and on further payment meals may be obtained at any time, but "bedding" must always be taken, as nothing but the bare bed is provided.

The stages from Rawal Pindi (1790 feet) at which these bungalows may be found, are:—

The road is usually open all the year round except in January, February, and part of March, when it is liable to be blocked by snow over the Murree hill and between Rampur and Baramula. In such emergencies the alternative route by Abbotabad may be used, and the traveller must make up his mind to walk the few miles of bad road near Rampur.

Instead of going all the way by road, boat may be taken at Baramula for Srinagar. This, though longer, is much more comfortable and enjoyable. The time occupied is from two to three days.

At Srinagar there is no dak bungalow, but an hotel—Nedou's—which is open the whole year round. Srinagar is the central starting-point for all expeditions. Here house-boats, dunga-boats, camp equipage, and all the paraphernalia of Kashmir travel may be obtained, and shikaris and servants engaged. House-boats are not indigenous to Kashmir. They were introduced by Mr. M. T. Kennard some twenty years ago, but now they may be numbered by hundreds. Some are permanently occupied by Europeans, who live in them nearly the whole year round for years together, but most are let out at from Rs. 70 to Rs. 100 per mensem for the season. In midsummer they are hot abodes, but they form a most convenient and luxurious mode of travel. Each would contain, probably, a couple of sitting-rooms with fireplaces, bedrooms, and bath-rooms, and with a cook-boat attached for cooking and servants, the traveller launches forth complete, and either drifts lazily down the river to the many attractive spots along its banks, and to the Wular Lake, or else is towed upwards to Islamabad. The house-boat likewise forms a very convenient base from which short expeditions into the mountains can be made.

Dungas and dunga house-boats are not so luxurious and commodious as the fully developed house-boat; but they are lighter, they travel quicker, and they go up shallow tributaries where the larger boat would stick. They are also less expensive. The former have only loose matting for walls; the walls of the latter are wooden.

For getting about the river in Srinagar itself the still lighter shikara or ordinary paddle-boat is used, paddled by two to eight men according to the size. House-boats and dunga house-boats require a crew of six to twelve men. Dungas carry a family in the stern who work the boat. Paddles, poling, and hauling are the means of progression.

Quite good shops for European stores and articles are now springing up in Srinagar. Cox & Co. and the Punjab Banking Co. have branches there, and Cockburn's Agency do every kind of agency work, engage boats and servants, and let out tents, camp furniture, etc. There are also many respectable native firms who do the same—of whom, perhaps, the best is Mohamed Jan, because he does not pester and importune the visitor in the way that most others do, and really render life in Srinagar intolerable.

There is a large choice of expeditions from Srinagar to points of interest, which will be described in detail in a later chapter. First in the immediate vicinity there are picnics to be made to the Dal Lake, to the two Moghal gardens,—the Nishat Bagh and the Shalimar Bagh,—and to the beautiful camping ground of the Nasim Bagh. These are expeditions which can be made in a single afternoon if necessary.

Of more remote tours the favourites are:—up the river to Islamabad and the beautiful Achibal spring and garden; to the clear crystal springs of Vernag, one of the many sources of the Jhelum; to the famous ruins of Martand which occupy the grandest site for a temple of any in the world; to the Lidar valley, Pahlgam, the Kolahoi glacier, and the caves of Amar Nath. Islamabad is the starting-point for both the Lidar valley and Martand, and here the house-boat may be left. Islamabad, thirty-four miles distant, may also be reached by a road which, though unmetalled, is in dry weather quite good. I have left Srinagar in a motor car at 8.45, have spent over an hour going round Islamabad, have eaten lunch under the glorious chenar trees at Bijbehara, and have been home again at Srinagar by 3.15 the same afternoon.

Down the river are equally delightful tours to be made. At Shadipur, at the junction of the Sind River with the Jhelum River, there is a charming grassy camping-ground under chenar trees. Ganderbal is a few miles higher up the Sind River, and forms the base for expeditions to (1) the Wangat ruins and the Gangarbal Lake, an exquisite torquoise-coloured sheet of water reposing immediately beneath the great cliff and glaciers of the Haramokh mountain; and (2) the beautiful Sind valley with its grand mountain scenery, and the charming camping-ground of Sonamarg (the golden meadow) also under towering mountain masses and close to glaciers. Up this valley also lies the road to the Zoji-La Pass on the far side of which branch off roads to Baltistan, on the one hand, with its fine ibex-shooting ground, immense glacier region, and K², the second highest mountain in the world; and on the other to Ladak with its Buddhist monasteries perched on any inaccessible rocky pinnacle that can be found, and Leh, the meeting-place of caravans from Lhasa and from Central Asia—a most quaint and picturesque little town embedded among bare, sun-baked mountains which has been the starting-point of two journeys I have made across the dreary, lofty Karakoram Pass (18,500 feet) to Turkestan and to the Pamirs.

From Shadipur, at the junction of the Sind with the Jhelum, the next expedition to be made is to the Wular Lake and Bandipur, from whence ascends immediately the long and numerous zigzags to Tragbal, a favourite camping-ground amid the pines, and to the Tragbal Pass (12,600 feet), from whence a magnificent view of Nanga Parbat (26,600 feet) may be seen, though I am bound to say that I have never seen it myself in spite of having crossed the Pass six times on the way to, or returning from, Gilgit and the Hunza frontier which lies in this direction. It is by this route, too, that sportsmen proceeding to shoot markhor in Astor, or ibex and bear in Tilail and Gurais, make their way, as also the few who obtain permission to shoot Ovis Poli on the Pamirs. For myself the Tragbal and Bandipur have many welcome associations, for it is here that I have finished two great exploring expeditions, and on a third occasion returned there after a stay of two and a half years hard service on the Hunza and Chitral frontier. It is impossible to convey the delicious sense of relief the traveller feels in descending from the Pass, in leaving behind all the rigors of severe mountain travel and intense cold, and with each easy step downward feeling the air growing warmer and warmer, and at length reaching the lake throwing himself into an armchair in a comfortable house-boat, and then gliding smoothly over the placid lake with the evening sunlight flooding the beautiful valley, and a soothing sense suffusing him at difficulties surmounted, at hardships past, and at present relaxation of body, mind, and purpose.

SRINAGAR AND NEIGHBOURHOOD

Entering now into greater detail, first among the places of interest to be described must be Srinagar, the City of the Sun, the capital of the country, and the dwelling-place of 120,000 inhabitants. From both the sanitary and the æsthetic point of view I am always disappointed that Srinagar was not placed either on the plateau of Pariansipura in the centre of the valley, or on the plateau just above Pampur on the west. The former was chosen by the great king Lalataditya for the site of his capital, of which the ruins remain to this day. It is a karewa just opposite the junction of the Sind River with the Jhelum, high and dry above all floods and marshes. And it stands well away from the mountain ranges on either hand, right out in the centre of the valley, so that all the higher peaks and the complete circle of snowy mountains may be seen. A nobler site could not be found. The Pampur plateau has the like advantage of being high and dry and healthy, and of being sufficiently raised above the ordinary level of the valley to command views right over the fields and marshes and wooded hamlets; and it also immediately overhangs the river, and commands a view of the most picturesque reaches in its course.

Either of these sites would have been preferable to the present low-lying situation amid the swamps, so muggy in summer and so chill in winter. Yet this site has attractions of its own, and built as it is on either side of the river, with canals and waterways everywhere intersecting it, and with the snowy ranges filling the background of every vista, the city of Srinagar must be ranked among the most beautiful in the East, and in its peculiar style unique.

The distinguishing feature is the combination of picturesque but rickety wooden houses, of mosques and Hindu temples, of balconied shops, of merchants' houses and the royal palaces with the broad sweeping river and the white mountain background.

Perhaps Srinagar never looks more beautiful than in the fulness of spring towards the end of April, when the Maharaja arrives from Jammu and enters his summer capital by boat. On such occasions the Resident and his staff, all the State officials, and many of the Europeans resident in Srinagar, go by boat to meet His Highness some distance below the city. The Maharaja arrived this year on the most perfect day in spring. Before the time of his arrival the river was alive with craft of every description, from the Resident's state barge of enormous length, and manned by about fifty rowers dressed in scarlet, to light shikaras, and even two motor boats. As we emerged from the town the banks on either side were covered with fresh green grass. The poplars and some magnificent chenar trees overhanging the river were in their freshest foliage. And coming up a long reach of the broad glistening river was the Maharaja's flotilla, with their long lines of red and of blue oarsmen giving colour to the scene.

The two flotillas joined and slowly made their way through the city. On either side were piled up masses of wooden houses, some low, some high, some leaning to one side, some to the other,—none straight and no two alike. All were crowded with people craning at the windows to see the procession. From many hung shawls, the distinctive decoration of the city for state occasions. And most striking and most beautiful feature of all, and only to be seen at this time of year and in Kashmir, the earth-covered roofs were now covered with fresh green grass, with delicate mauve irises, and in some few cases with the gorgeous scarlet Kashmir tulip. A more beautiful object than that of a little mosque on the edge of the river with its chalet-like roof covered with this blaze of scarlet, its graceful spire tapering skywards, its tassel-like bells of brass suspended from the corners all set in a group of overshadowing chenar trees, with the snowy ranges in the far distance, the clear blue sky above and the spring sunshine bathing all in warmth and light, it would be hard indeed to find outside Kashmir.

Beyond the seventh bridge is the Yarkand serai, filled with the Tartar-featured Yarkandis from Central Asia, in whose garb I myself arrived in Srinagar twenty-one years ago, and fully as dark as they from many months' exposure to the sun and snow.

Above this is the first neat, well-constructed buildings—the Zenana hospital built and supported by the State, and now lined by the medical and nursing establishment come out to welcome the Maharaja.

The sixth and most of the other bridges of Srinagar are built up on piers of crossed horizontal logs of wood. They occupy much of the river way, but are very distinctive, and harmonise most picturesquely with the wooden houses of the city. They were all crowded with people. And on the banks near one were assembled many hundreds of school-boys carrying small flags, which they waved as the Maharaja passed, and shouted "Eep, eep, ra! Eep, eep, ra!" continuously for many minutes in imitation of the British cheer. Mottoes of welcome were stretched across the houses in places, some invoking long life for the King-Emperor, and others expressing loyal wishes for the Maharaja. Between the third and fourth bridges are the shops of most of the chief bankers and merchants, big, handsome, picturesque buildings of small bricks and woodwork, with semicircular balconies jutting out over the river and pretty carved and lattice-work windows. Near the third bridge is the fine Shah Hamadan mosque of an almost Norwegian type of architecture, built of wood with a tall taper spire and handsome hanging ornaments from the eaves. Beyond the third bridge is the chief Hindu temple, of quite a different order of architecture, built of stone—and, as along the whole embankment of the river, with the great stone blocks from the temples and cities of ancient Hindu times.

And so the procession up the river continues, through the avenue of houses, mosques, and temples; past rows of grain barges and house-boats tethered to the shores; past the curious wooden bathing-boxes, under the old-style wooden bridge; past flights of steps leading to the water's edge and crowded with people mostly, it is sad to say, in dull brown or the dirtiest white, but sometimes in gay orange-green or purple; past the old residence of the Governors and the new villa of Sir Amar Singh till the Maharaja's palace is reached, where the procession finally halts while all the hundreds of little boats which had followed in rear swarm round the palace steps. The Resident then takes leave, the Maharaja ascends into his palace, and the Resident and the European community proceed still farther up the river to the European settlement in the area known as the Munshi Bagh.

The palace, though large, is disappointing. It is not what one would have expected on such a site. Even the native portion is not handsome, and on to this has been tacked an ugly European edifice. A great chance has been thrown away, and one can only hope that time will either tone down the present ungainliness or remove it altogether, and erect a building more worthy of the rulers and of the beautiful country which they rule.

Then the last, or rather, as it is commonly known, the first bridge is passed, over which lies the main road from Rawal Pindi and Baramula to Srinagar and the Munshi Bagh; and beyond this are passed more villas, then the State Hospital and the Museum on the right and various State buildings on the left, including the old Guest House in which were entertained Sir Henry Lawrence and John Nicholson. Beyond is clear of the town, and along the "Bund" or embankment, which forms a lovely walk by the water-edge, has now arisen a series of smart European buildings—the missionaries' quarters, the Punjab Bank, Parsi shops, the Post Office, the Residency clerks' quarter and office, and then the Residency itself, a regular English country-house; and beyond it a tidy little Club, the second Assistant Resident's quarters, the Parsonage, the Church, and a line of houses each in its own snug and pretty little garden, the residences of British officials in the employ of the Kashmir State. The whole Bund is overshadowed by great chenar trees and willows, and both sides of the river are lined with house-boats. A thousand feet immediately behind rises the Takht-i-Suliman with the graceful Hindu temple on its summit, and behind this again the great ranges with snow still lying low upon them.

Behind the Bund lie many other modern houses, including Nedou's hotel, and on the slopes of the Takht and towards Gupkar many English villas are springing up—all in much the same style, built of brick and cross-beams of wood with gable roofs. There are also tennis courts and a croquet and badminton grounds round the Club, and on the open plain golf links, a polo ground, and a cricket ground. Srinagar is indeed a gay place for the summer months, with games going on every day, dances nearly every week, dinners, garden parties, and picnics.

The Jama Masjid

The largest and most striking, though not the most beautiful, of the Mohamedan buildings in Srinagar is the Jama Masjid, which was built by the Emperor Shah Jehan. It is constructed of wood throughout, and is in the form of a square enclosing a courtyard. The main building, of course, faces Mecca. Here there is a forest of pillars all of single deodar trees, and remarkable for their height and grace. A staircase leads on to the roof, from which a good view over the sea of mud-roofed houses of Srinagar may be obtained.

Taken as a whole the building is not very remarkable. The graceful steeples, of the style characteristic of Kashmir, in the centre of each face are worthy of note. But all is in disrepair and neglected, and is hardly worthy of a city of over a hundred thousand Mohamedans.

Shah Hamadan Masjid

A more beautiful building than the Jama Masjid is the graceful Mosque of Shah Hamadan, situated close upon the river, and a very favourite object for artists and photographers. It also is built of wood with pointed steeple, beautifully carved eaves and hanging bells, like most of the Mohamedan structures in Kashmir.

Other Buildings

Scattered throughout the city are other mosques of much the same style of architecture. There are also several Hindu temples of the usual type, and not especially characteristic of Kashmir.

Dr. Neve's Hospital

Conspicuous above the European quarter stand the group of buildings known all over Kashmir as Dr. Neve's Hospital, a mission hospital which, with Mr. Biscoe's School, is the most sincerely appreciated of all the efforts which Europeans have made for the welfare of the Kashmir people. Last year no less than 22,735 new out-patients were treated, and the total number of visits amounted to 56,280. 1764 in-patients, of whom 476 were females, were also treated; and 5038 surgical operations were performed. Sometimes over 200 out-patients, and on a few days over 300 out-patients, were treated in a single day. These figures speak for themselves. They show the confidence the people now have in the wonderful institution and the steady practical good it is doing. The heads of the hospital are the brothers Drs. Arthur and Ernest Neve; and they are assisted by Dr. Rawlence, Miss Neve, Miss Robinson, Mr. S. Wilson, and 54 native assistants and servants.

The hospital was founded in 1865 by Dr. Elsmie, who for many years had uphill work in starting the institution, but at length gained the confidence of the people and of the late Maharaja. Dr. Downes succeeded Dr. Elsmie, and carried the work forward. In 1881 Dr. Neve took it up. In that year 10,800 new patients were treated; there were 23,393 visits, and 1418 operations were performed. Year by year since then the good work has progressed. The original mud-buildings have gradually been replaced by the present solid masonry structures. And the steady growth of the number of in-patients, and the readiness with which even upper-class women remain in the hospital, testify to the confidence with which the institution is now regarded. It is now renowned through all the north of India, and is a splendid testimony to the steady, thorough, and persevering work of two self-sacrificing men.

The Takht-i-Suliman

The most conspicuous object in the neighbourhood of Srinagar is the Takht-i-Suliman, a hill exactly a thousand feet above the valley plain, and surmounted by an ancient Hindu temple. Both for the sake of the view over the valley, up the reaches of the Jhelum, and down on to the Dal Lake and the city of Srinagar immediately at the foot, and also to see the older temple even now frequented by pilgrims from all over India, a climb to the summit is well repaid.

The temple is believed to have been dedicated to Jyesthesvara, a form of the god Siva. It was at one time thought that it was built 220 b.c., but it is now believed by the best authorities that while the massive basement and stairs are remains of an ancient building (possibly Gopaditya's, as Dr. Stein thinks), the present superstructure may be of later date. The roof is certainly modern, but the temple as a whole probably belongs to the same period as the other temples in Kashmir.

It is of the typical Hindu plan of a square with recessed corners, and is built like all the ancient Kashmir temples of massive blocks of stones.

Pandrathan

Three miles up the river from Srinagar is the site of what is very probably the original city of Srinagar founded by Asoka. The name of Pandrathan now given to the village is identified with the Puranadhisthana, or "ancient capital" of the records, and this has been presumed to be the same as Srinagar founded by Asoka, the Buddhist king. But of this city nothing now remains, and the picturesque temple there is of later date. It was built by the minister Meruvad-dhana in the beginning of the tenth century, and dedicated to Vishnu.

The Dal Lake

The Dal Lake, with the canal leading into it, and the various gardens on its shores, is one of the chief attractions of the neighbourhood of Srinagar. It is always lovely, but perhaps at no season more beautiful than early in May. Passing through the lock known as the Dal Darwaza, we glide through channels of still, transparent water hedged in by reeds and willows. On the right rises the Takht-i-Suliman immediately out of the lake. In front are the snowy ranges bordering the Sind valley. Numerous side-channels branch off and intersect. The shores are covered with market gardens. Country boats laden with their produce continually pass, usually propelled by some old man or woman squatting at the extreme prow, and balancing him or herself there with extraordinary confidence and skill. Numerous kingfishers of brilliant sky-blue plumage flash across the water; and gorgeous yellow-golden orioles dart from tree to tree. Clumps of noble chenar trees with the Kashmir chalet houses are grouped along the banks, and often overhang the mirror waters. Orchards of quince trees with their delicate pink and white blossom and fields of brilliant yellow mustard line the shores. Cows and their calves, sheep and their little lambs, graze on the fresh green grass; and pretty but dirty little children, geese and goslings, ducks and ducklings, dabble in the water, and all tell of the rich abundant life now bursting into being.

Rounding a turn in the canal a graceful Hindu temple is seen forming the end of a reach, and on its steps leading to the edge of the water and reflected in it are picturesque groups of women, most of them indeed in the dull brown which they wear with lamentable frequency, but some of them also in bright greens and yellows which furnish the needed touch of colour to the scene.

Some hundreds of yards farther on we pass under an old bridge with a pointed arch of quaint artistic design of Moghal times. Numerous grain boats of enormous size are congregated here; and half a mile farther the channel gradually opens out, and at length we emerge on to the open lake itself.

The water is so still and so clear that the reflections of the surrounding mountains are seen as in the most polished mirror. The reflected mountain is as sharp and distinct as the mountain itself. The luxuriant plant growth from the bottom and the numerous fishes are seen as in clear air. On the far shores of the lake the stately avenues of the Nishat and Shalimar Baghs approach the water's edge. Above them rise high mountain cliffs. Graceful boats glide smoothly over the glassy surface of the lake—some the bearers of market produce, some occupied by fishermen, and a few filled with holiday-makers enjoying thoroughly the beauty of the scene, and giving expression to the enjoyment in songs and music.

May is not the season for the lotus, so that one additional attraction is lacking; but in July and August, when the lotus is in full bloom, the lake itself, though not the shores and setting, is at perfection. The lotuses are as large as the two hands joined together, of a delicate pink, and set on the water in hundreds. In the midst of their graceful leaves they add a beauty to the lake which attracts multitudes from the city.

Gliding on beyond the lotuses we pass the famous Isle of Chenars with its magnificent trees and grassy velvet banks; we pass a little promontory with another huge chenar tree growing out right over the water, and giving shelter to a house-boat comfortably ensconced beneath its shade; and then we reach the widest and most open portion of the lake. In the distance, towards the Sind valley, well-wooded villages cover the lower slopes of the mountains inclining towards the lake, and away in the farthest westward distance the Khagan snows are faintly traced.

From here to the Nishat or Shalimar Baghs we would bear off to the right. To the Nasim Bagh we bear to the left, and closing in to the southern shore pass a picturesque village by the side of the lake with chalet-like house, a handsome ziarat, a background of chenar trees and long lines of steps, generally crowded with people, leading to the water's edge. In about an hour's row from the start at the Dal Darwaza the Nasim Bagh is reached.

Nasim Bagh

The Nasim Bagh is a series of avenues of glorious chenar trees crossing one another at right angles, and each avenue about three hundred yards in length. Under these is soft, fresh green grass, and the whole is raised twenty or thirty feet above the water. There are no flower gardens, but the site makes a perfect camping-ground, and many house-boats anchor here in the summer.

Looking out from the shade of the chenars we see straight across the lake the Shalimar Bagh with the Dachigan valley behind it, and the snowy Mahadeo Peak towering above. From the opposite side of the Bagh, looking away from the lake, there are views over the Kashmir valley to the snows of the Pir Panjal and of the Khagan range. And round the edges were clumps of large white and purple irises.

In the autumn the Nasim Bagh is more beautiful still, for then the chenars are in all the richness of their autumn foliage, and a more perfect camping or picnic spot man could hardly wish for.

The Shalimar Bagh

On the north-east corner of the Dal Lake, and approached by a canal about a mile in length, with banks of soft green turf, and running between an avenue of chenars and willows, is the Shalimar Bagh, or royal garden, the favourite resort of the Moghal Emperor Jehangir and his wife, the famous Nurmahal, for whom the Taj at Agra was built as a tomb. The gardens can also be reached by a beautiful road along the shores of the lake, nine miles from the city of Srinagar.

The situation is not so beautiful as the site of the Nishat Bagh, for it is almost on a level, and is surrounded by a high wall. But it is only in comparison with the Nishat Bagh that it can suffer disparagement, and anywhere else than in Kashmir it would be hard to find a more beautiful garden than the Shalimar on an autumn evening, when the great avenue of chenar trees is tinged with gold and russet, when the lofty mountains which rise behind it take on every shade of blue and purple, and the long lines of fountains running through the avenue sparkle in the sunshine.

The garden is remarkable too for a pavilion, with exquisitely carved pillars of black marble. It is set in a tank in which play numbers of fountains, and round the borders of the tank are massive chenar trees. The total length of the garden is 600 yards, and it is arranged in four terraces, on three of which are pavilions. Except for the pavilion with marble pillars and the water channel, the garden is in a state of ruin; but Mr. Nichols of the Archæological Department Survey has attempted to reconstruct its former outlines. There is a tradition that the garden was originally larger than the present walled enclosure, and there are found along the canal which connects it with the Dal Lake the ruins of masonry foundations, which mark either the beginning of the old garden or the site of a pavilion within it. Causeways and channels probably extended across the garden with tanks and platforms.

The garden was in the strictest sense a formal garden, and in making his recommendation for its restoration, Mr. Nichols enlarges on the artificiality which is the charm of a formal garden. Appreciation of a formal garden requires, he thinks, an acquired taste, but the Moghals certainly understood such matters. They were quite right in selecting trees of formal growth, and planting them on geometrical lines, the essence of a good garden being that it should form a pleasing intermediate step between the free treatment which Nature lavishes on hills and plains, field and forest, and that necessarily artificial object—a building made by the hand of men.

Such are Mr. Nichols' ideas, for which there is a good deal to be said. But some may also think that when a once formal garden and formal buildings have already fallen into ruin and returned as it were to nature, there may be less need to restore the formality, and that to fall in with the ways of Nature may be the best method of adding to the existing beauty of the garden. In any case the improvement of the turf, the removal of modern hideosities of buildings, and the replacing of the makeshift fountains by fountains of really tasteful design, would greatly improve this beautiful garden.

The Nishat Bagh

The Nishat Bagh is decidedly the favourite garden in Kashmir, though it has no building so fine as the pavilion with the black pillars in the Shalimar Bagh. Its situation on the rising ground sloping up from the Dal Lake, backed by a range of mountains immediately behind, and with views far over the water and over the valley to the distant snowy mountains, gives it an advantage over every other garden, and its beauty in spring-time when the Kashmir lilac and the fruit trees are in blossom, when the chenars are in young leaf and the turf in its freshest green, I have already described.[1] In the autumn it is scarcely less beautiful in a different way. Then the chenars are in a gorgeous foliage of gold and purple. Day after day of brilliant sunshine and cloudless sky give a sense of security of beauty, and no more perfect pleasure-ground could be imagined.

The pavilion at the entrance, though affording from its upper story a striking view of the garden right up the line of waterfalls and fountains, and on to the mountains which hang over the garden, is a modern structure and is not beautiful in itself. It is a thousand pities, indeed, that this most superb site has not been made use of to construct a really beautiful pavilion on the lines of that in the Shalimar Bagh. On the higher terraces are the foundations of other pavilions and massive stone throne-like seats which indicate the fuller beauties of the Moghal times.

On the topmost terrace is a beautiful clump of magnificent chenar trees and a wide extent of soft green turf—an ideal spot for picnics and garden-parties. And it is from this point that can be seen the most beautiful and extensive views through the avenue of chenar trees, over the fountains and waterfalls, on to the glassy lake and the distant snowy ranges.

Parihasapura

A very little known but very accessible and particularly interesting spot is the site of the ancient city of Parihasapura, the modern Paraspur, situated two and a half miles south-west of Shadipur, and stretching from there on a karewa, or raised plateau, to the Srinagar and Baramula road. There is not much left now above ground, for numbers of the massive blocks of stone of which the city and temples were built have been taken away ages ago to build the temples of Patan close by, and, alas! also to metal the Baramula road. But the outlines of the walls may still be traced sufficiently well to attest the grand scale on which the city was built; and we know from records that it was built by the same great king Lalataditya, who erected the temple of Martand in the eighth century.

According to a passage in the Rajatarangini the king Lalataditya erected five large buildings: (1) a temple of Vishnu Parihasakesava with a silver image; (2) a temple of Vishnu Muktakesava with a golden image; (3) a temple of Vishnu Mahavaraha with an image clad in golden armour; (4) a temple to the god Govardhanadhara with a silver image; (5) the Rajavihara or monastery with a large quadrangle and a colossal statue of Buddha in copper, which indicate that in ancient times there must have been a large and important Buddhist settlement. The same king is also said to have erected a stone pillar 54 cubits high with an image of Garuda on the top.

CHAPTER IV

THE RESIDENCY GARDEN

Among the beauties of Kashmir the Residency Garden must surely not be omitted. The Maharaja has provided for the Residency one of the most charming houses in India—a regular English country-house. And successive Residents, in my case aided by Mr. Harrison and Major Wigram, have striven to make the garden worthy of the country and the house. Here grows in perfection every English flower. The wide lawns are as soft and green as any English lawn. All the English fruits—pears, apples, peaches, apricots, plums, greengages, cherries, walnuts, mulberries, gooseberries, currants, raspberries, and strawberries—grow to perfection and in prodigious quantities; and the magnificent chenar and innumerable birds add a special charm of their own.

Perhaps a record of the cycle of the birds and flowers will give an idea not only of the beauties of the garden, but of the climate of the valley.

Early in March the garden beauties begin to develop. The turf is then still quite brown and the trees leafless, but on March 8th, when I returned to Srinagar this year, violets, pansies, wall-flowers, narcissus, crocuses, and daisies were all in flower. Daffodils, hyacinths, stock and a few carnations were in bud. Columbine and larkspur leaves were sprouting. Peas and broad beans sown in November were a few inches high. And of the trees, willow leaf-buds were just bursting and showing a tinge of fresh light yellow green, and one apricot tree was nearly bursting into blossom. Of birds there were thrushes, minas, bulbuls, sparrows, crows, kites, blue-tits, hoopoes, and starlings; and of butterflies, a few tortoise-shell and cabbage-whites.

The maximum temperature in the shade was 55° and in the sun 104°, and the minimum temperature was 31°.

On March 17th the willow trees had acquired a distinct tinge of green, as also had the grass. Wild hyacinths (blue-bells) and yellow crocuses were well out. The maximum temperature was 68° in the shade and 110° in the sun, and the minimum was 32°.