The road to Rainawari seemed curiously devious.  A Kashmiri track seldom shies at a hill, but pursues its way, heedless of gradient, for its objective; but this path imitated a corkscrew in its windings, and reduced us to the utmost limit of our patience before, passing through a small village whose dull-coloured houses were enlivened with gorgeous festoons of scarlet chilies, we climbed a steep little hill and found ourselves upon a park-like lawn or clearing, and facing the cluster of rough wooden shanties which compose the Rainawari forest bungalow and its outhouses.  Behind the huts the densely-wooded hill drops sharply to where a stream of good and pure water riots among the maidenhair and mosses.

A large and inquisitive company of apes came up from the wood to take stock of us, and I sat for a long time watching them as they played about quite close to me, feeding, chattering, and quarrelling, entirely unconcerned by the presence of their human spectator.

Friday, October 6.—­All Tuesday was spent in honking bear in the lower woods which stretch far towards the Pohru.  The high hills which rise above, covered with jungle, are said to be too large to work, and I can well believe it!  For the first drive I was posted on a steep bank overlooking a most lovely little hollow, where the shafts of sunlight fell athwart the grey trunks and heavy green masses of the pines, lighting up the yellow leaves of the sumachs till they glowed like gold, and casting a flickering network of strong lights and shadows among the tangled mazes of undergrowth.  A happy family of magpies, grey-blue above, with barred tails and yellow beaks, flitted about in restless quest, their constant cries being the only sound which broke the peaceful stillness, until the faint and distant sound of shouts and tom-toms showed that the first act of the farce had begun.

Towards the end of the third beat, while I was drowsily digesting tiffin, and, truly, not far from napping, I was electrified by the report of a rifle, followed by yells and a second shot!  The beaters redoubled their shouts, and the tom-tommers seemed like to burst their drums.

My shikari, writhing with extreme excitement, hissed, “Baloo, sahib, baloo!” and began aimlessly running to and fro, apparently hoping to meet the bear somewhere.  It was truly gay for a few minutes, but as nothing further occurred, and the beaters grew very hoarse with their prodigious efforts, I hurried on to Walter’s post to learn what had happened.

A bear had suddenly come out of the cover some 40 yards off, and stood to look.  The Colonel missed it, whereupon it dashed forward, passing within a few yards of him, and he missed it again.  It departed at top speed across some open ground behind him, and gained the great woods which stretch away to the Kaj-nag, and never shall we see that bear again!  The Colonel was much disgusted, and if language—­hot, strong, and plenty of it—­could have slain that bear, he would have dropped dead in his tracks.