I believe more travellers arrived later,
for--although, thanks to Sir Amax Singh and good luck, we gained a good
start at Baramula--now the tongas are beginning to roll in and the plot to
thicken.
I cannot think where the last arrivals bestowed themselves--not on the
roof, I trust, for a thunderstorm, accompanied by the usual vigorous
squall of wind, fell upon us during the night, and raged so furiously that
I was greatly relieved to see the Lancer's little tent still braving the
battle and the breeze in the morning.
We had a long day before us, so started in good time to make the tedious
ascent to Murree. It rained steadily, and a cold wind swept down the river
valley as we began to make our slow way up the long, long hill.
I never knew milestones so extraordinarily far apart as those which mark
the distance between Kohala and Murree. There are twenty-five of them,
distributed along a weary winding road which extends without an apparent
variation of gradient from Kohala to the Murree cemetery. The rise from
the river level to Murree is 5000 feet, and this, in a heavy landau over a
road often deep in red mud, is a heavy strain on equine endurance and
human patience.
We had a fresh pair of horses waiting for us half-way up the hill, but they
proved absolutely useless, being obviously already dead tired and quite
unable to drag the carriage through any of the muddier places even with
every one but the invalid on foot.
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