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In tact, we were not too warm in the car. The day before. Virginia had been surprised to note what she took to be the extraordinary incidence of pregnancy among Kashmiri women. Then, by some chance, she learned her mistake. Most ot the women were not pregnant but merely holding under their voluminous woollen cloaks the little pots of burning charcoal enclosed in wicker baskets with which Kashmiris of both sexes and all ages keep warm in winter. There was one of these braziers in the car. but as it sat between the two men on the front seat it did not do us much good.
Soon after leaving the temple, the road began to climb quite sharply. Though in fair condition it was a typical mountain road. Soon it was under a few inches of snow. Below us a sizeable stream came tumbling down over a rocky bed. In front and on both sides of us, at no great distance. rugged mountains rose steeply into the clouds.
In an hour or so we reached Pahalgram, a simple little mountain resort, strung out along the road and built, it seemed, mainly of wood. The admirable little guidebook we bought later in Srinagar confirmed our impression that Pahalgam is strictly a summer resort. Even then, most of the “breathtaking trips” it offers take several days and. of course, require camping equipment and professional guides.
But we were not the only visitors that February day. The dining room of the little hotel to which Mr. Nirash led us was pretty busy. Whether or not there were others, its popularity would have been explained by the excellence of the food. Without fuss or ceremony, our conductor showed that he was indeed a Brahmin. He took a cup of tea with us but ate his, lunch at a separate table across the room.
As we left the hotel, snow was falling. There were
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