The maximum temperature in the shade was 55 and in the sun 104, and the minimum temperature was 31.

On March 17th the willow trees had acquired a distinct tinge of green, as also had the gra.s.s. Wild hyacinths (blue-bells) and yellow crocuses were well out. The maximum temperature was 68 in the shade and 110 in the sun, and the minimum was 32.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE RESIDENCY AND CLUB, SRINAGAR]

On the same day in the previous year the maximum was 56 and the minimum 35, and four days later there was snow.

By March 20th the apricot blossoms were in full bloom. Willow trees were in half-leaf. Garden hyacinths, daffodils, Crown Imperials, and English primroses were just beginning to bloom; and greengages were in blossom.

By the end of March the maximum temperature had reached 75 in the shade and 125 in the sun, while the minimum stood at 40. This, however, was an exceptionally warm March.

By April 1st the garden was exquisitely beautiful. The willows were now well out, and in all the charm of fresh young spring foliage.

Apricots and peach trees formed little clouds of delicate pink and white dotted lightly over the garden, and not too dense to hide the glories of the snowy mountains in the background. The tall pear trees were nearly in full bloom. A few of the pinky-white apple blossoms were just appearing. The May leaves were showing a tinge of green.

Chenar leaves were just appearing. The mulberry leaf-buds were beginning to burst. Catkins were hanging from the poplars. Rose leaves were fully out. The gra.s.s had nearly turned from brown to green. Iris buds were showing a tinge of purple. Hyacinths were well out, and Crown Imperials and daffodils in full bloom.

On April 3rd the first of the pretty little wild tulips striped white and pink appeared, and on the following day the first of the large dark purple irises and two or three large white irises came into bloom. Heavy rain fell, and on the 5th the gra.s.s was entirely green.

On that day the pears were in full blossom. Two of the magnificent scarlet Kashmir tulips, which are a joy to any garden, came into blossom, and two English tulips also came out. Rose-buds were beginning to form. The maximum temperature was 59 and the minimum 42. On April 7th the first columbine came into bloom, and on the 9th the first shrike appeared.

Now followed a deluge of rain. On the 12th 2 inches fell. By the morning of the 13th 1465 inches had fallen since January 1st, in comparison with a normal fall of 106 inches. And, most unexpected of all, on the night of 12th-13th snow fell! The maximum temperature was only 50 and the minimum 33. In a single night all the lovely delicate peach blossoms, the crowning glory of the Kashmir spring, were withered up, and for the moment we seemed plunged back once more to winter.

But April 15th was one of Kashmir's most lovely days. The poplars were now in fresh light foliage. May was in full leaf. Irises were plentiful. Several columbines were in bloom. Both the Kashmir and English tulips were well out; and the strawberries were in blossom. On this day, too, I saw a flight of green parrots with long yellow tails in the garden.

The first rose bloomed on April 17th, a white climber whose name I do not know, growing on the south verandah. Last year the first did not appear till the 26th.

May came into bloom on April 24th, and on the 25th a scarlet poppy and a white peony blossomed. For some days then the weather had been exceptionally warm, the maximum rising to 80 in the shade and 129 in the sun, and the minimum to 51.

The first golden oriole appeared on the 26th--exactly the same date as that on which it appeared last year. The golden orioles have a glorious deep liquid note which thrills through the whole garden. Two or three pairs always settle there, and all day long their brilliant yellow plumage is seen flashing from tree to tree.

Three days later another brilliant visitant appears, the paradise fly-catcher. He has not the beautiful note of the golden oriole, nor such striking plumage. But he has exceedingly graceful form and movements. He has a very long, wavy, ribbony tail, like a paradise bird, and the two or three pairs of them which yearly settle in the garden may be seen at any hour undulating through the foliage or darting swiftly out to catch their prey.

By May 1st the magnificent chenar trees were in full leaf. Mulberry, horse-chestnut, and walnut were also well in leaf. The roses were coming into bloom--numerous Marechal Neil, and a beautiful single pink rose--the sinica anemone--a few of Fortune's yellow, and many tea-roses. The May trees were in full blossom. The bank on the south side of the garden was a ma.s.s of dark purple and white irises, and of an evening when the sunlight glancing low along its length caused each flower to stand out in separate state, became a blaze of glory.

Another beauty of this season were bushes of what is generally known as Indian May, with long slender stalks bent gracefully downward like a waterfall of snowy flowers. Stock was in full bloom. Pansies were out in ma.s.ses. Both the English and Kashmir lilac were in blossom, and the columbines were in perfection. I had had out from Barr & Sons a number of varieties, and the success was remarkable. The Kashmir soil and climate seem to suit columbines, and varieties from every part of the world, deep purple, light mauve, white, mauve and white, pink and red of many different graceful forms, came up luxuriantly. They were one of the successes which gladden an amateur gardener's heart.

The maximum in the shade was 60, in the sun 122, and the minimum 48.

The first strawberries ripened a week later. The first horse-chestnuts came into blossom on May 10th, and on that date the single pink rose, sinica anemone, on the trellis at the end of the garden, was in full bloom and of wondrous beauty; a summer-house covered with Fortune's yellow was a dream of golden loveliness; I picked the first bloom of some English roses which a kind friend had sent out, and which had been planted in a special rose garden I had made for them--William Shean, Mrs. Ed. Mauley, Mrs. W. J. Grant, and Carmine Pillar; and we had our first plateful of strawberries.

A light mauve iris, a native of Kashmir, now came into bloom; geraniums and some lovely varieties of Shirley poppy which I had obtained from Mr. Luther Burbank, the famous plant-breeder of California, began to blossom; and roses of every variety came rapidly on till the garden became a blaze of colour.

The first of some remarkably beautiful delphiniums--some a deep blue, some sky blue, and some opalescent--which I had also obtained from Luther Burbank appeared in bloom on May 17th.

A spell of hot weather now set in, and on May 21st the maximum temperature rose to 84 in the shade and 134 in the sun, and the minimum to 54.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE TAKHT-I-SULIMAN, FROM THE RESIDENCY GARDEN]

By May 25th the roses were at their maximum of beauty. The sweetly-scented and delicately-coloured La France roses were at perfection. Rich bushes of General Jacqueminot, of John Hopper, of the pink rose of Kashmir, and of many other kinds whose names I do not know, formed great ma.s.ses of colour against the soft green leaves and the plentiful foliage of the chenar trees. William Alan Richardson climbed over the trellises. The Shirley poppies gave every deep or delicate shade of red and pink. Sweet-peas were in full bloom, and of them also I had had a marvellous variety from England. Pinks and carnations were coming rapidly on. A mauve and yellow iris had appeared. Luther Burbank's delphiniums formed welcome patches of real true blues in the herbaceous border round the lawn. The light and graceful gypsophylis and phlox were in bloom; gladioli were just coming out; and the horse-chestnut trees were all in gorgeous blossom.

Early in June the gladioli, Canterbury bells, pinks, sweet-williams, and foxgloves were in full bloom, and the sweet-william especially gave ma.s.ses of beautiful and varied colour. The temperature now rose to 88 in the shade and 135 in the sun, and the minimum to 54. On June 10th, carnations, phlox, and Eschscholtzia were in full bloom.

And by June 15th, though many of the best roses had pa.s.sed over two beautiful climbers which I had obtained from home, Dorothy Perkins and Lady Gay were in full blossom, and the delicate pink and graceful form of the latter were especially lovely. Geraniums and fuschias were now fully out, and ma.s.ses of tall hollyhocks in many different shades of colour were most effective. A few cannas and some lilies also came into bloom.

By the end of June apricots were ripe. Petunias and dahlias were out, and a few columbines still remained in bloom. The temperature had now gone up to 94 in the shade and 142 in the sun, and the minimum to 62; and early in July it rose to 97 in the shade, which is about as hot as it ever becomes in the valley.

On returning to Srinagar on September 7th I found the bed of scarlet salvias giving brilliant patches of colour and most effectively lighting up the garden. The autumn crop of roses was beginning, though the blooms were not so fine as the spring crop. Geraniums, fuschias, asters, cannas, zinnias, gallardia, and verbena were in abundance; stock and phlox were still out, and the hibiscus bushes were in full bloom. Burbank's delphiniums were also having a light second bloom.

The maximum in the shade was 81 and in the sun 128, and the minimum 52. The rainfall to date from January 1st was 274 inches in comparison with a normal fall of 217 inches.

By the beginning of October last year cosmos was blooming luxuriantly.

Christmas roses were in full blossom, and the first chrysanthemum appeared. During the month these blossomed in great beauty and became the chief attraction in the garden. Towards the end of the month and beginning of November the great chenar trees gradually a.s.sumed the gorgeous autumn colouring. The Virginian creeper on the porch turned to every rich hue of red and purple. Then the glories of the garden slowly vanished away. The leaves fell from the trees. The frost turned the turf brown. On December 1st there were still a few brave remnants of the summer splendour--a few tea-roses, stocks, phlox, wallflower, chrysanthemums, carnations, petunias, gallardia, nasturtiums, salvia, snapdragons, and one or two violets. But the temperature was now 25 at night, and the maximum in the day only 54, and these too soon disappeared, and the only consolation left was the clearer view of the mountains of which the absence of foliage on the trees allowed. Thus ends the story of a garden's glory.

CHAPTER V

GULMARG

What will be one day known as the playground of India, and what is known to the Kashmiris as the "Meadow of Flowers," is situated twenty-six miles from Srinagar, half-way up the northward-facing slopes of the Pir Panjal. There is no other place like Gulmarg.

Originally a mere meadow to which the Kashmiri shepherds used to bring their sheep, cattle, and ponies for summer grazing, it is now the resort of six or seven hundred European visitors every summer. The Maharaja has a palace there. There is a Residency, an hotel, with a theatre and ball-room, post office, telegraph office, club, and more than a hundred "huts" built and owned by Europeans. There are also golf links, two polo grounds, a cricket ground, four tennis courts, and two croquet grounds. There are level circular roads running all round it. There is a pipe water-supply, and maybe soon there will be electric light everywhere. And yet for eight months in the year the place is entirely deserted and under snow.

Like Kashmir generally, Gulmarg also is said by those who knew it in the old days to be now "spoilt." With the increasing numbers of visitors, with the numerous huts springing up year by year in every direction, with the dinners and dances, it is said to have lost its former charms, and it is believed that in a few years it will not be worth living in. My own view is precisely the opposite. I knew Gulmarg nineteen years ago, and it certainly then had many charms. The walks and scenery and the fresh bracing air were delightful. Where now are roads there were then only meandering paths. What is now the polo ground was then a swamp. The "fore" of the golfer was unknown. All was then Arcadian simplicity. Nothing more thrilling than a walk in the woods, or at most a luncheon party, was ever heard of.

And, doubtless, this simplicity of life has its advantages. But it had also its drawbacks. Man cannot live for ever on walks however charming and however fascinating his companion may be. His soul yearns for a ball of some kind whether it be a polo ball, a cricket ball, a tennis ball, a golf ball, or even a croquet ball. Until he has a ball of some description to play with he is never really happy.

So now that a sufficient number of visitors come to Gulmarg to supply subscriptions enough to make and keep up really good golf links, polo grounds, etc., I for my part think Gulmarg is greatly improved. I think, further, that it has not yet reached the zenith of its attractions. It is the Gulmarg of the future that will be the really attractive Gulmarg, when there is money enough to make the second links as good as the first, to lay out good rides down and around the marg, to make a lake at the end, to stock it with trout, and to have electric light and water in all the "huts," and when a good hotel and a good club, with quarters for casual bachelor visitors, have been built.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ON THE CIRCULAR ROAD, GULMARG]

All this is straying far from the original Arcadian simplicity, but those who wish for simplicity can still have it in many another valley in Kashmir--at Sonamarg, Pahlgam, or Tragbal, and numerous other places, and the advantage of Gulmarg is that the visitor can still if he choose be very fairly simple. He can go about in a suit of puttoo. He need not go to a single dance, or theatrical performance, or dinner-party, or play a single game. He need not speak to a soul unless he wants to. He can pitch his tent in some remote end of the marg, and he can take his solitary walks in the woods; _but_, if after a while he finds his own society is not after all so agreeable as he had thought, if he feels a hankering for the society of his fellows, male or female, and if he finds the temptation to play with some ball is irresistible, then just under his nose is every attraction. He can indulge his misanthropic inclinations at will, and at a turn in those inclinations he can plunge into games and gaiety to his heart's content.

The main charm of Gulmarg will, however, always remain the beauty of its natural scenery and the views of the great peak, Nanga Parbat, 26,260 feet above sea-level, and 80 miles distant across the valley.

The marg or meadow itself is a flowery, saucer-shaped hollow under a mountain 13,000 feet high, and bounded by a ridge directly overhanging the main valley of Kashmir. It is 8500 feet above sea-level, open and covered with flowers and soft green turf, but on all sides it is surrounded by forests of silver fir interspersed with spruce, blue pine, maple, and a few horse-chestnuts, and the great attraction is that through this forest of stately graceful firs the most superb views may be had, first over the whole length and breadth of the vale of Kashmir, then along the range of snowy mountains on the north, and as a culminating pleasure, to the solitary Nanga Parbat, which stands out clear and distinct above and beyond all the lesser ranges, and belonging, so it seems, to a separate and purer world of its own. And there is the further attraction in the Gulmarg scenery that it is ever changing--now clear and suffused in brilliant sunlight, now the battle-ground of monsoon storms, and now again streaked with soft fleecy vapours and bathed in haze and colour. No two days are alike, and each point of view discloses some new loveliness.

Round the outside of the ridge runs what is known as the circular road. It has the advantage of being perfectly level, and is fit for riding as well as walking. Except the road through the tropical forests near Darjiling, along which I rode on my way to and from Tibet, and which runs for miles through glorious tropical vegetation, by immense broad-leaved trees with unknown names, all festooned with creepers and lighted with orchids; by great tree ferns, wild bananas, and a host of other treasures of plant life, and through which glimpses of the mighty Kinchinjanga, 28,250 feet, could be caught,--except that I know of no other more beautiful road than this along the ridge of Gulmarg.

[Ill.u.s.tration: IN THE FOREST]

From it one looks down through the wealth of forest on to the valley below, intersected with streams and water-channels, dotted over with wooded villages, and covered with rice-fields of emerald green; on to the great river winding along the length of the valley to the Wular Lake at its western end; on to the glinting roofs of Srinagar; on to the snowy range on the far side-valley; and, finally, on to Nanga Parbat itself.

And never for two days together is this glorious panorama exactly the same. One day the valley will be filled with a sea of rolling clouds through which gleams of sunshine light up the brilliant green of the rice-fields below. Above the billowy sea of clouds long level lines of mist will float along the opposite mountain-sides. Above these again will rise the great mountains looking inconceivably high. And above all will soar Nanga Parbat, looking at sunset like a pearly island rising from an ocean of ruddy light.

On another day there will be not a cloud in the sky. The whole scene will be bathed in a bluey haze. Through the many vistas cut in the forest the eye will be carried to the foot-hills sloping gradually towards the river, to the little clumps of pine wood, the village cl.u.s.ters of walnut, pear, and mulberry, the fields of rice and maize, to the silvery reaches of the Jhelum, winding from the Wular Lake to Baramula, to the purply blue of the distant mountains, then on to the bluey white of Nanga Parbat, sharply defined, yet in colour nearly merging into the azure of the sky, and showing out in all the greater beauty that we see it framed by the dark and graceful pines in which we stand.

And this forest has no mean attractions of its own, of which to my little girl the chief were the white columbines. Here also are found purple columbines, delphiniums, what are known as white slipper orchids, yellow violets, balsams, mauve and yellow primulas, potentillas, anemones, Jacob's ladder, monkshood, salvias, many graceful ferns, and numerous other flowers of which I do not pretend to know the name.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FROM THE CIRCULAR ROAD, GULMARG]

The Residency is situated on the summit of the ridge above the circular road, and from it can be seen not only Nanga Parbat (through a vista cut in the trees) and the main valley, but also a lovely little side-valley known as the Ferozepur nulla. Looking straight down two thousand feet through the pine trees we see a mountain torrent whose distant rumbling mingles soothingly with the sighing of the pines. Brilliant green meadows, on which a few detached pine trees stand gracefully out here and there, line the river banks. Steep hill-sides, mostly clad in gloomy forest, rise on either hand, but relieved by many patches of gra.s.sy sun-lit slope. The spurs become a deeper and deeper purple as they recede. The openings in the forests become wider higher on the mountain-side where the avalanches have scoured them more frequently. Higher still the forest-line is pa.s.sed, and the little stream is seen issuing from its source among the snow-fields and flowing over enticing gra.s.sy meadows. Above the glistening snow-fields rises a rugged peak of the Pir Panjal which, when it is not set against a background of intense blue sky, is the b.u.t.t of raging storm-clouds.