The Columbus journal., 1908-10-07

Northward beyond the passes OF
Cashmere lies the land of Thibet
Cashmere might be called the buffer
state between India and that long
closed country of superstition whose
100000 inhabitants are still under
the sway of grand lamas.
Since the opening up of Thibet by
the expedition sent by the British gov
ernment under the command of Col
Younghusband some light of modern
civilization has penetrated through
these closed doors, but, unhappily,
owing to the influence of the Anglo.
Russian agreement, the gates have
clashed to again. However, very few
travellers enter Cashmere from the
toilsome northern passes of Lesser
Thibet They are difficult even for the
mountain mule to scale, SO steep and
sudden are the numerous sharp turns
and angles, utterly devoid of vegeta-
tion except coarse lichen; in winter
imbedded in ice and snow. and at all
seasons of the year wind-swept and
bleak. The fertile valleys, the hills
and streams of Cashmere, lying behind
this inhospitable, rocky barrier are a
paradise in comparison.
After journeying across the scorch-
ing plains of India in the close, hot
carriages of the Punjab railway to
Rawalpindi, the terminus, know of no
more refreshing experience than to
exchange there this mode of travel for
the tonga, or native coach, cross be-
tween a bullock wagon and an old
fashioned carry-all. As We were con-
veyed in this tonga, it's two shaggy
ponies yoked to the long pole, what
thrills pervaded us as we rushed he'll
ter skelter through the narrow defiles
and sharp turns of these mountain
valleys and uplands toward the Hima-
layas! For romantic, varied and
grand scenery, unique customs. a
ragged and picturesque population
Cashmere stands alone
Arriving at Srinagar and Fastening
to the river, suitable houseboats were
selected from among the numerous
craft tied to the trees on the banks of
the Jehlum. Within "a hours the
equipment of rowers, paddlers, cook
and dunga, or kitchen boat. was ready
for active service, and our memorable
journey through the Vale of Cashmere
began.
Passing under the antiquated
bridges spanning the Jehlum, many
strange sights were revealed, such as
bizarre and fantastic palaces. includ-
ing that of the maharajah of Jumnu
and Cashmere, with its square towers,
moat and dungeonlike, walled-in in
closure of the zenana. North of the
town is the towering hill. or Thaktf
Suliman, with its conical peak
crowned with a tiny mosque. The
bones of the holy man Suliman
rest within this shrine and the
faithful Mussulmans dwelling in
the valley make pilgrimages thither,
usually at the time of the full moon.
A sharp bend of the river led us to a
winding nullah, or narrow tributary.
A panorama of lovely views and green
vistas surprised us, and as twilight
approached we tied up for the night.
An early start next morning, ere
the rays of the sun grew too hot, with
a stiff pull upstream, brought US to
Martand. This now almost deserted
town, save for a few poverty-stricken
villagers, was once a populous city.
The sole remnants of its former great
ness are the ruins of an ancient tenn
pie originally dedicated to the sun.
Heaps of broken and twisted pillars,
scorched by earthquake and stained
by time, masses of stone torn from
their foundation. lie about. The mas
sive portico is still standing; also the
remains of a cloister of delicately-
carved columns. The worship must
have been Buddhistic. as the carvings
plainly reveal the benign features of
Buddha and the sacred bull. From the
eminence crowned by these ruins one
gets a splendid view of the Liddar val
Ry. at that time (ApriD. covered for