Hesketh was reduced to despair; after two months in bed, this could not
but be a trying journey under the most favourable circumstances, and the
prospect as held out by his pessimistic bearer was pretty gloomy--no boats
available, and no signs of our doungas.
I pushed on to the break in search of my shikari, whom I had sent on by
pony early in the morning, and soon found that estimable person, who is
not really the blithering idiot he looks!
In the first place, he had appropriated the only two shikaras he could
find, and our baggage was already being stowed in them; secondly, he had
discovered both Juma and Ismala, our Mangis, who reported the doungas
moored below Parana Chaum, about four miles away over the flooded fields.
This was good news, and we ate a cheerful lunch under a tree densely
populated by jackdaws.
The Maxwells got away somehow in search of their house-boat, which was
supposed to have left Baramula some days ago. They started cheerfully, but
vaguely, down the Spill Canal, and we trust they found their ark somewhere!
Promising to send back a boat for the Baines, we paid and dismissed
coolies and ponies, and paddled away over the flood water. The country was
simply a vast lake, the main road merely marked by a dense row of poplars.
Trees rose promiscuously out of the calm and sunlit water, wisps of maize
and wreckage clinging to their lower boughs. Presently the road showed in
patches, a broad waterfall breaking it every here and there as the
imprisoned waters from above sought the slightly lower channel of the
Jhelum.
Pages:
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223