f i n
apart, the whole geography of the city was mapped out,
I could trace my path of the previous day and understand
the devious waterways of the city and the lovely
green lanes—where barges were carts—of the Dal
Lake, and make up my mind which was to be my
itinerary for the afternoon’s expedition I promised
myself. I came down the east side of the hill, or rather
after following for some way a track on the northern
slope, circled it to the eastward, joining the Gupcar
road where the spur, of which the Takht is an offshoot,
has been cut through to improve the connection between
Srinagar and its pretty suburb on the shores of the
lake. Here various houses for European visitors have
been built, and there are also many for those whose
business keeps them all the year here. -
The hour was too early for formal calling, so 1 left
the pretty houses and gardens of Gupcar just showing
on my right, and turned away round the foot of the hdl
along a path, so narrow in places that there was hardly
space between the mountain’s rocky base and the lake
waters for the pedestrian. In other parts, where there
is sufficient open ground, vines are much grown, and they
climb the tall poplars and mulberries, sending long,
swinging trails from side to side, forming exquisite
screens of greenery. Hops, too, grow here, and the
factories are close by in which the raw produce is transferred
into excellent liquids, beer, wines, and liqueurs
(cherry and apple brandy). Though the day was young,
I should not have regretted the appearance of some
samples, for my expedition had, on the whole, been a
warm one, and close down by the lake I found the heat
very trying after the cooler regions I had been marching
in. The thickets of cluster roses and heads of blue salvia,