y placed the forest bungalows of the Lolab at
our disposal; but, as they all lie on the other side of the valley, we are
obliged to camp every night. We have been working along the north side
of the Lolab, as the shikari is full of bear "khubbar," and as long as the
weather remains fair we really do not much care where we go! Skirting the
foot of the wooded ridge on our right, and with the flat and populous
levels of the valley on our left, we marched along a good path shaded in
many places by the magnificent walnuts and snowy fruit-trees for which the
Lolab is justly famed, until, crossing the Pohru by a rickety bridge, and
toiling up a hot, bare slope, we reached Kulgam, nestling at the foot of
the hills.

After tiffin and a short rest we set forth up the nullah behind the
village to look for (need I say?) a bear. The gradient was stiff, as usual,
and the path none too good. Feeling that our laborious climb deserved to
be rewarded by, at any rate, the sight of game, and Ahmed Bot having sent
a special message to the Lumbadhar at Kulgam directing him to keep the
nullah quiet, we were justly incensed when, having toiled up some couple
of thousand weary feet, we met a gay party of the _elite_ of Kulgam
prancing down the hill with blankets stuffed with wild leeks, or some such
delicacy.

Ahmed Bot showed reckless courage. Having overwhelmed the enemy with a
vituperative broadside, he fell upon them single-handed, tore from them
their cherished blankets, and spilt the leeks to the four winds.

I expected nothing less than to be promptly hurled down the khud, with
Jill after me, by the six enraged burghers of Kulgam. But no. They simply
sat down together on a rock, and blubbered loud and long; we sat down
opposite them on another rock and laughed, and laughed--tableau!

On Friday I went for a delightful walk through the pine and deodar forests,
the ostensible objective being, of course, a bear. Putting aside all ideas
of sport, I gave myself up to the simple joy of mere existence in such a
land; noting a handsome iris with broad red lilac blooms, which I had not
seen before; listening to the intermittent voice of the cuckoo, and
pausing every here and there to gaze over the fair valley, backed by its
encircling ranges of sunlit mountains.

The chota shikari is a youth of great activity, both mental and physical.
He almost wept with excitement on observing the mark of a bear's paw on a
dusty bit of path. He said it was a