AUGUST 13th.—­Marched back to Islamabad, seven miles, by another road, as I first visited the ruins of Martund, a temple built (so the legend goes) ages ago by “gin men” or demons of gigantic stature.  These are really grand ruins, whether position, site, or architecture be considered.  They stand on an open plain, on the summit of a ridge, from which is a fine view of the surrounding mountains, which are much higher than in the western part of Kashmir.  In the centre is a large block, containing several rooms, the huge stones of which it is built being elaborately carved.  There are many niches containing figures, but the defacing hand of time has sadly marred them.  On two sides of this building and only a few feet distant from it rise a couple of wings, and the whole is enclosed by a stone screen, perforated by trefoil arches, and having on its inner side a row of fluted columns.  In the middle of the south side of the screens is the main entrance, the pillars of which are very tall.  Vigne, classes these ruins among the finest in the world, and perhaps he is right.  At Islamabad there are several bungalows provided for visitors, and I went into one of them, having first cleared it of the “fakirs”—­who are here too.  These bungalows stand by tanks in which are tame fish, as at Burven.  A spring issues from the hill side, just above them.  Two men of the 7th Hussars, Walker and Verschoyle, occupied another, and I breakfasted with them.  Adjoining the tanks is a small pleasure garden, with some buildings which are inhabited by the Maharajah when he visits Islamabad.  The place reminds me more of a tea garden in the New Road, than the resort of Royalty.  The water from the tanks escapes under the front bungalow forming a pretty cascade.  Dined and passed the evening with the other fellows.

AUGUST 14th.—­To Atchebul, six miles.  This is a charming spot.  It is a pavilion and garden built—­if my memory serves me—­by the Emperor Shah Jehan, for his wife; at its upper end rises a hill covered with small deodars and other trees, and from the foot of this hill four springs gush forth from crevices in the rock.  The volume of water is very large, and it is conveyed into three tanks at different levels.  These tanks are connected by broad canals lined with stone, and at the extremity of each canal is a fine waterfall.  There are also two lateral canals which run through the whole length of the gardens, from the boundary of which the water escapes in three cascades, the centre one from the tanks being the largest.  In the middle tank are twenty-five fountains, which were turned on for my benefit; only seventeen of them play, and the best jets are not more than six feet high.  In the centre of this tank stands a pavilion which I now inhabit.  Its walls are of wooden trellis work, and the ceiling is divided into panels on which are painted in many colours the everlasting shawl pattern; it looks as though the floor-cloth had been placed on the ceiling by mistake.  Along the foot of the