ourselves on the bank, the stepping-stones were no more, but only here and
there we saw the shoulders of huge rocks which doggedly threw aside the
flying foam of a fair-sized river. It was obviously impossible to cross
except by deep wading, but, being unwilling to own defeat, I yelled to a
brown native on the far bank, and made signs that he should come and do
beast of burthen. He, however, stolidly shook his head, pointed to the
water, and then to his chest, and finally we sadly and wrathfully toiled
back to the road we had so lightly left, and expended all our energies on
attracting the notice of the carriage, which, having crossed the bridge,
was crawling along the opposite face of the nullah, and when, after a hot
three miles, we once more embedded ourselves amongst the cushions with a
sigh of relief, we swore off short cuts for the future.

We had been warned at Uri that there was a "bad place" at Mile 73, and
sure enough, on rounding a bend, we came upon the familiar mass of
semi-liquid red earth and a pile of boulders heaped across the road, the
khud side of which had entirely given way. The usual crowd of coolies was
busily engaged in trying to clear the obstruction by means of toothpicks
and teaspoons.

We quitted the carriage with a celerity engendered of much practice, and,
having crossed the obstacle on foot, sat down to await the coming of our
conveyance.

It seemed perfectly marvellous that the heavy vehicle could be safely got
over a jagged avalanche of earth and rock piled some eight or ten feet
above the roadway, and having an almost sheer drop to the river entirely
unguarded for some hundred yards, where the retaining parapet and even
some of the road itself had gone.