&c., one bottle of brandy, to be reserved for medicinal use, a portable charpoy or bedstead, cane stool, a little crockery, knives and forks, cooking utensils, brass drinking cup for every purpose, a gingham umbrella with white cover, a dandy (previously described), solar topee, and light cap, tobacco, soap, and candles, a kookery, a stout alpen stock, a pass into Kashmir, and bag of money, and “voila tout.”  For carrying this baggage, I require two mules, and two Coolies, or when mules are not procurable, seven Coolies.  Four other Coolies man my dandy, and these men are going all the way with me.  Each Coolie receives four annas, or sixpence a day, and a mule costs eight annas.  Stopped under a “pepel tree” and sent some Coolies up it for the fruit, which was ripe.  This tree is the Indian fig, and the fruit is very small, not larger than marbles; and without much flavor.  The river is running a few yards from me, with a sound as of the surf on a rocky beach.  I hope ere long to hear the same pleasant music seated on the cliffs of the south coast of Guernsey.  Now my time in India is drawing to a close, I begin to think that it has not been altogether wasted, though I would not prolong it a day.  All I have seen and done within a period of three years (so much falls to the lot of few men to perform) must have had some effect upon my mind; at any rate, when safe at home again, I shall have much to talk of, many experiences to relate.  My dog Silly who accompanies me, was awfully done up towards the end of the march.  At last we came to a running stream in which he laid down and was much refreshed, before that his panting had become gasping though he kept up with us bravely, only lying down for a moment when we came to a little bit of shade—­not often met with, the last three or four miles.  For the last day or two, I have been almost continually in a cool, gentle perspiration, this is a great contrast to my state when at Peshawur, where my skin was always as dry as a bone, and I look upon that as a healthy symptom, I have had no headache since I left Bugnostan.

July 10th.—­To Mozufferabad nine miles, but apparently much more, such a bad fatiguing march.  I got away with the first grey of the dawn and after a mile’s tramp began the ascent of the Doabbuller pass, three and a half miles long and very steep, so steep that I could often touch the ground with my hands without stooping much.  This was terribly exhausting and I had to make many halts to recover my breath.  Then began a rough descent along the side of a mountain torrent and afterwards over its bed, which is a narrow gorge between high hills.  This walking was very rough and difficult; the path being covered with great stones and often undistinguishable.  Indeed it was no path at all, only the ground occasionally a little trodden.  Through the stream, backwards and forwards innumerable times we went.  I found that my feet, though naked except where covered by the straps of the sandals, were able to take care