The new era. (Walden, Colo.) 1906-19??, 1908-10-22
C4JA7ZRE K0ZIlZB0AT

camps are pitched in these se-
questered hooks, but we tarried not,
until we reached Shadipore. strag-
Cling village, once the center of the
cashmere shawl industry.
Let us enter one of the rickety
houses or shops where shawl weaving
is carried on. Crowded in this smoke
begrimed place, it's mud floor worn In
to hollows. are five old looms tied
up with bits of string and adorned
with cobwebs A cows horn, polished
by long usage, serves as beam pin.
Before the looms are seated a dozen
or more ragged men and boys. They
handle the many colored bobbins deft-
~ A pattern of the fabric lies before
them, marked out with a piece of
soiled paper. For this work they re-
ceive from four to eight annas day.
equivalent to eight and sixteen cents
of cur money. The master of the shop
squats on the floor, smoking his hook
ah, or long pipe. He rises at our ap-
proach, salaams and proceeds to
show his goods. They are good enough
of their kind. but the fineness of the
old time shawl is wanting, and as for
the coloring, aniline dye is stamped
all over it. The artisans who under
stood how to use the beautiful vege-
table dyes and weave the lovely pat
terms of our grandmothers' shawls
have long since been lying in the hum
Bile graveyard close by the purling
stream that rushes from the mountain
In midsummer the Jehlum is swol-
len from the melting SHOWS of the
mountains. The river overfows its
banks and the currents are very
strong. Taking advantage of favor.
able moment, we were carried swift
ly down to Srinagar. Diminishing the
% natives who had poled and towed
the boats for weeks, sometimes up to
their waists In water. four strong
mounshies, or rowers, were selected
for the trip to Dahl lake. On the
shores of this lovely and exquisite
sheet Of water. hidden within Its leafy
glades and well wooded shores, are
the remains OF the beautiful marble
palaces Of the mogul rulers. Their
names are lost in oblivion, but in the
gardens, palaces and foundations
which they erected still stand to de-
light the eye of the traveller. AS we
glide swiftly along, flocks of sheep
and cattle. ruined mosques and mon
asteries on the hillside form de-
lightful picture. In the reeds and
rushes numerous water fowl make
their home. Above us fit birds Of
beautiful plumage. their liquid notes
filling the air. The eagle and hawk
are there, but keep out of range of the
rifle. Queer native craft drift by, la
den with produce from artificial and
natural gardens on these waterways
Aquatic plants of the lily family float
on the surface of the water; the To-
tus, with its large, green leaf, sug-
gests the dreamy frame of mind. The
mountains that look down on us are
faithfully mirrored in the clear depths
of the lake. So potent is the witch
cry of the scene that for the moment
we almost believe that Pan might play
his pipe, or that we ourselves are of
the stuff that dreams are made o."
The aroma of coffee being prepared
by our faithful servant, Rustum, and
the call to tiffin dispel all these pleas
ant fancies and recall us to the sub
stantial facts of life. After tiffin, fol-
lowed by brief siesta, we are rowed
to Shalimar, and this was the Palace
of Delight" where the lovely Nourma-
hal. or Light of the Palace" other
wise known and immortalized by
Thomas Moore as Lallah Rookh, lived
and loved her Prince Feramorz. 'Tis
very old world place. The foun-
tains are long since silenced. A Sc.
ries of terraces, furnishing charming
vistas. and some good frescos on the
ceilings Of the crumbling apartments
still remain. The place is secluded,
the garden neglected, the sweet scent
ed rose Of Cashmere twines round the
broken lattice. The branches of tho
grand old trees are filled with innu.
merable feathered songsters. A flock
Of black crows seems to keep guard
over the place. A faint scent of box
wood pervades the air. recalling re
long ago, and the clinging sense OF
some sweet personality like spirit of
poesy or everlasting youth invests the
tangled garden and ruined palace of
dear old Shalimar.
Reluctantly we turned our backs on
the lovely scene, and were rowed
back in the beauty Of the sunset
through the winding nullahs, with a
most distinct and never to be forgot
ten picture Of lovely Dahl lake firmly
printed on our mental vision.
Rawalpindi was reached on the nth
day after leaving Srinagar, and we
were once more at the terminus of
the Punjab railway. Thus ended our
memorable trip to Cashmere.
II you do things As they should be
done. there will be NO duns due you.