In the search, we passed through orchards and gardens
innumerable, and finally decided upon a grove of magnificent sycamores
on the river bank, where we laid out our table just as the sun went
down. Within view was a picturesque old wooden bridge, on the mossy
tree-formed piles of which the bushes were growing, as if quite at
home, and hanging gracefully over the flowing river.
JULY 13. -- Found ourselves at sunrise at the end of our boat journey,
bathed in the river, and started for Islamabad, about half a kos off.
On the bank we found three other travellers encamped, and leaving them
fast asleep, we pushed ahead and took possession of the baraduree. This
we found a charming little place in a garden, full of ponds of sacred
fish, with old carved stones scattered about, belonging to the Hindoo
mythology. Through one corner of an upper tank a stream of crystal
water flowed in from the mountain which rose perpendicularly behind
it -- the water welling up from below in a constant and abundant
stream.
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