rupees.


AUGUST 4th.--Marched back to Ganderbul, nine miles. Ganderbul is a very
small place, and the only object of interest I noticed, was a very old
bridge built of rough stones, standing now upon dry land, for the Scind
has left its former channel and runs one hundred yards to to the south
of it, three of the arches remain entire and connected, and at least
twelve others are either decayed or destroyed. This bridge is evidently
of very ancient date. On emerging from the Scind valley, I got a better
view of the vale than I have before had. It was a clear but cloudy
morning--one of those grey days when rays abound, and photographic
efforts are most successful--and every distant object was seen with
great distinctness. The snowy Pin Punjaul range, in its southern
boundary looked magnificent, rising abruptly from the level and
beautiful plain. On board the boat again, I continued the journey
towards Srenuggur. We had not been long afloat before a sudden squall
came down from the hills and blew the roof of the boat off; it took a
long time to repair the mischief, but fortunately all the matting was
blown on to the bank, it was eventually replaced and we proceeded
onwards in a tolerably direct line to the capital, ten miles distant.
But near sunset the wind increased again, and compelled us to take
refuge in a sheltered nook within a mile or two of Srenuggur, the fort
standing above us on the summit of a hill--imposing from its apparently
impregnable position--and there we remained all night.


AUGUST 5th.--Starting early, I soon arrived at the outskirts of the
town, and the boat entered a canal with houses on both sides. There was
some delay at a lock and great excitement in pushing over the fall