One

Dak Bangalow,
Skardu. Baltistan
Aug 2nd 1895
My Dear Stafford,
You being about the greatest traveller of the family, and fond also of reading of travel, I think you might be more interested to hear first hand from me some account of my journey with Dr Arthur Neve to Hunza. You must excuse shabby writing as I haven’t a table to write upon. Having come down from Nil Nág with Albert on Friday 9th, and seen him off for Siálkot on Saturday. I spent Sunday with the Neves, being busy most of the day making final preparations for our journey.
At 12 o’clock on Monday 12th Dr Neve started in a doongah (large travelling boat), having all our things on board, and picked me up at the Sheikh Bagh Ghá. We were accompanied by Dr and Mrs Adams, C.M.S. people, who were starting for a trip up the Sind Valley. As we passed down the river through the city, we were accosted as usual by silver and other merchants, running their boats alongside, wanting to shew us their wares.
(Pictures of the city, from the river and of the chief Hindu Temple, from paintings by Miss Ada Barclay)


We travelled all together in the Adams’ doongha, and spent a lazy and pleasant day, and a warm one too, just floating down stream, the boatman doing hardly more than just keeping the boast straight with their paddles. After passing under the seven bridges of the city, and the innumerable boats passing up and down the river, the people washing themselves and their clothes in the ghats, women filling their water pots, and little boys sliding down the mud banks with their back sludge at the bottom, we came out into the open country and wound slowly along a few miles from the grass-covered mountain spurs which bound the vale on the north east. To the west on our left the river was bounded some 20 miles away by the long jagged crest of the Pir Punjál range, rising to 10,000 feet above the level of the vale. About 5 o’clock in the evening the Adams’ boat turned off up a side stream to the Sind Valley. So we didn’t see any more of them.

Before dinner Neve and I walked a mile or two along the bank through the thick iris plants, and saw the usual golden sunset. In the spring, the irises made a wide carpeting of blue, but were now flowerless and about 2 feet high.
On turning in for the night, we each suspended our mosquito bags from the roof of the boat and tried to sleep, but on account of the heat, and the mosquitoes that found an entrance, and the noise of those that didn’t, we neither of us got to sleep till about 3am. The boatmen too, in crossing part of the Woolar Lake got into some very shallow water amongst thick weeds, and for a long time were hauling the boat about trying to find the deep channel.. At 5.30 we woke up to find ourselves drawn up with many other boats on the canal which runs from the Woolah through some flat country to Bandipur. We were now beset by swarms of mosquitoes, and while we were dressing, the men put some fire pots (kangris) filled with smouldering cow dung windward and so to smoke them away. Neve sent off a note to Capt Codrington, the assistant Gilghit Transport officer, for the ponies that had been promised us, and after Choti Hazir (the journal has no explanation as to what this is, but from the context I suppose it is a pre-breakfast snack - ST-B) he went to see about them, and brought back five mules on which our baggage was loaded, a job that took about an hour and a half, so we didn’t get started till nearly 10 o’clock. A blazing hot 5 mile walk up the valley brought us to the foot of the 4000ft ascent to Tragbal, our destination for that day. There we waited for the mules, which were very slow in coming, and for breakfast which we didn’t get till one o’clock.
The road ascends the mountain spur in mile long zig zags, but went straight up the Kud, a very perspiring climb of 2½ hours. Tragbal is just a camping place at the edge of thick forest, and on the shoulder of the spur of which we had come. A wonderful view from here. The whole of the Vale of Kashmir with the Woolar Lake in the near distance, and the Pir Punjál range in the far, lies stretched out beneath us. Steep pine slopes face us across the Erin Nullah, reaching up to the rocky summits of Mt. Hara Mûk (17000ft).

This night we were guests of Mr and Mrs Oliphant of the Kashmir Telegraph Service (Superintendent) who hospitably entertained us at dinner and breakfast and a tent, not to mention our much looked for tea on arrival.
The next morning, Wednesday 4th, had Choti Haziri at 6.30, packed and got the mules and baggage away about 9. A jolly fresh morning after rain at night. Pleasant sound of dogs, cocks, rooks etc. Light clouds floating along the sides of the green forest clad hills around. After breakfast with the Oliphants, we started off. The first 3 miles or so zig zagging up through pine forest, then out onto the grassy uplands towards the top of the Rajdiamgan Pass 11570 ft. Passed strings of camels and ponies carrying the supplies to Gilghit. There are some 80 camels and 800 ponies working the transport from Bandipur to Gilghit. It clouded up so there was not much view of the mountains.

Beyond the top, and descending, the flowers along the whole way were lovely. In some places the whole mountainside was yellow with ragwort, yellow potentilas. Further down, larkspur, columbine, crimson potentila, small pink and blue balsam. Here and there were white and red flowering thistles, light blue poppies, roses, purple loosestorfe (?) and masses of yellow balsam. We descended about 6 miles and then sat beside the stream to eat the eggs and bread and butter we had in our pockets, and to bathe our feet. This near the Gurais rest house
On again at 2.45 and about 4 miles down crossed the Zedhuska stream and followed the old road through the Kansilwan Merg - a lovely walk. Kept along the old track along the left bank of the Kishanganga River through forest where we found wild raspberries and blackcurrants.
The track came to and end, and entailed a rough clamber down to the road again, which we struck near the bridge, by which the road, which had followed up the further side of the river ,crossed back to the left bank. A fine view here from the bridge of Mnt Changa which Albert, Julian and I had tried to climb when we were at Gurais a few weeks ago. At about 7 o’clock we arrived at the bungalow of Mr Mitchell, who has charge of the Gilghit road. Mr and Mrs and two little girls live at Gurais all the summer, and have an enclosed meadow, kitchen garden, fowl houses etc.
They had two tents pitched and elegantly furnished for us. The next morning, Mitchell, Neve and I rode about 4 miles up the valley before breakfast to arrange with the lambadar (headman of the village) about our further transport. In the evening 2 ladies, officers’ wives, and a Colonel Unwin, who are staying at Gurais came in for badminton. It seemed rather odd being at an afternoon party and eating raspberries and cream in such an out of the way place.