National Institute of Informatics - Digital Silk Road Project
Digital Archive of Toyo Bunko Rare Books

> > > >
Color New!IIIF Color HighRes Gray HighRes PDF   Japanese English
0055 Sand-Buried Ruins of Khotan : vol.1
Sand-Buried Ruins of Khotan : vol.1 / Page 55 (Color Image)

New!Citation Information

doi: 10.20676/00000234
Citation Format: Chicago | APA | Harvard | IEEE

OCR Text

 

CHAP. r.]   UP THE JHELAM VALLEY   3

arrange for the supply of many articles of equipment, both personal and scientific. The tents which I had ordered from the Cawnpore Elgin Mills ; the galvanised iron water-tanks, made at Calcutta workshops, that were to serve in the desert ; the stores of condensed food, the photographic outfit, and the semi-arctic winter clothing which I had indented for from London—all were slowly moving up to Srinagar, whence my little expedition was to start.

But only in Kashmir itself, and not in over-civilised Calcutta, was it possible to complete my practical preparations. So I could not entirely suppress a feeling of unholy joy when an increase of plague, or rather the fear of it, caused Calcutta colleges to be closed some weeks in anticipation of the usual summer vacation. On the 10th of April I was free to escape northward. It was a source of satisfaction to me that on the day of my departure I was able personally to take leave of the late Sir John Woodburn, Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, and to express my deep gratitude for all the kind help and interest with which he had furthered my undertaking.

The week I spent in Lahore in order to pick up various portions of my outfit and to supervise their despatch passed rapidly amid old friends and surroundings dear to me. After Calcutta the Punjab spring appeared still comparatively cool. All the same I enjoyed as keenly as ever the invigorating change to the fresh air of the hills when the Tonga carried me from Rawalpindi first to the fir-covered heights of Murree, and then along the Jhelam Valley up towards Kashmir. Often had I done this journey along the ancient Hydaspes, where it rushes down towards the plains in an almost uninterrupted succession of rapids and cataracts, but never so early in the year. Whether it was the sight and fragrance of the shrubs still in blossom along the road, or the glittering caps of snow still lying on many of the higher spurs, or simply the prospect of a year's explorations, never had this drive of nearly two days appeared to me so enjoyable.