_Monday, September_ 18.--It was impossible to get our boats up the river
yesterday, so I spent the day sketching amidst the most picturesque, but
horribly smelly, part of the town; much quinine in the evening seemed
desirable as a counterblast to possible malaria.
The sunsets lately have been really magnificent; the poplars and chenars,
darkly olive, reflected in the flooded fields against a red gold sky, in
the foreground the black silhouettes of the armada.
The days are almost too hot, but the nights are cool and delicious, and
the mosquitoes are only noticeable for a brief period of sinful activity
about sundown, after which the wicked cease from troubling and the weary
are at rest.
At half-past ten this morning we set sail; that is to say, we hired nine
extra coolies and a second shikara to tow, and advanced on Srinagar.
Hesketh's boat, being the lighter, kept well ahead (here let me note that
"bow" in that boat is quite the prettiest girl we have seen in Kashmir,
and the minx knows it!), but we had good men, and worked along slowly and
steadily up the main river, the side canals being all choked by broken
bridges and such like. We crept past the Amira Kadal, or first bridge,
about two o'clock, and tied up for lunch, revelling in the most perfect
pears, peaches, and walnuts. As a rule the Kashmir fruit is disappointing;
abundant and cheap certainly, but not by any means of first-rate quality.
Strawberries, cherries, apricots, melons, and grapes might all be far
better if properly cultivated, and scientifically improved from European
stock.
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