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Ganderbul is a very small place, and the only object of interest I noticed, was a very old bridge built of rough stones, standing now upon dry land, for the Scind has left its former channel and runs one hundred yards to to the south of it, three of the arches remain entire and connected, and at least twelve others are either decayed or destroyed. This bridge is evidently of very ancient date.
Westward Ho! is my cry; let the gorgeous East with its money bags, its luxuries, and its many hours of idleness, remain for those who are content to exchange home-ties and the enjoyment of life for dreary exile and too often untimely death, who will sell their minds and bodies for the price of rupees. AUGUST 4th. Marched back to Ganderbul, nine miles.
It was slow work rowing against the strong current, but we presently emerged into a great lake entirely covered with high rushes except where a winding channel was cut for the boats, and here progression was slower still as the rope had to be abandoned, and the pole called into requisition, so that it was nearly dark when we reached Ganderbul.
Sreenuggur seen in the distance at the extremity of a mountainous spur, with the Fort and Soloman's Throne, standing upon two elevated rocks. Within a few miles of Ganderbul the lake became clear, and presented a fine expanse of water, but with so many shallows, that our course was very tortuous. Having travelled twenty miles, we are now only five miles from Manusbul.
Ganderbul stands at the opening of the Scind valley, but it was too late to take any observations when I arrived; so I must wait until my return. JULY 28th. A march of nine miles up the valley to Kungan, taking with me as before only four coolie loads of baggage; my boatman accompanies me. Met Scott, of the 88th, three or four miles from Ganderbul, the first European I have seen since the 12th.
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