along. The mess provided some camp
tables, and most of us managed to bring a camp stool, so we were in the
height of luxury. After dinner a pipe or two, and then we turned in; we
generally managed to get some grass to put under our blankets, but if we
didn't, I don't think it made much difference; we were all young, and
used to sleeping out on the hillside after game, frequently above the
snow line, so it was no new experience. If it rained or was cold, we
generally managed to get into a hut; these are remarkably strongly
built, good stone walls, and thick, flat, wooden roofs with a mud
covering, a hole in the middle of the floor for the fire, and a hole in
the roof for the smoke--at least that was what we supposed was the idea,
but the smoke generally preferred to remain inside.

There were also other discomforts of a minor nature. For instance, the
cows and goats used to take it as a personal matter if you objected to
their sharing the room with you; they were big enough, however, to catch
and turn out, but there were other occupants of a more agile nature,
armies of them, whom it was hopeless to try and eject; we suffered so
much from their pleasing attentions that we generally preferred to sleep
outside, weather permitting.

Our second march was to a village called Suigal in the Punyal district,
governed by Raja Akbar Khan, a jolly old chap who came out to meet us on
the road; he lives in a castle on the left bank of the river, which is
here crossed by one of the highest and longest rope bridges in the
country. In spite of his size, he is a very good polo player, as are all
his family, some of whom were shut up in the Chitral Fort with Dr.
Robertson. He now offered his services and those of his people to
Government, which Colonel Kelly accepted, and the old man retired very
pleased, to rejoin us later on. At Suigal we managed to get all the
troops under shelter, as it was still raining, and it was now the second
day that they had been wet through.

The next day the rain had luckily stopped, and towards noon the sun came
out, and everybody's dampened spirits cheered up. We marched that day to
Hoopar Pari, making a double march instead of halting at Gurkuch. Pari
means a cliff--and the camping ground is a horrid little place shut in
by high cliffs close to the bed of the river. There is no village near.
It is a desolate place at the best of times, and when there is any wind
blowing, it is like camping in a draught-