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Title: Western Himalaya and Tibet

Author: Thomas Thomson

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The Project Gutenberg eBook, Western Himalaya and Tibet, by Thomas
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ISKARDO.
From the South.

Pl. I.
J. W. del. W. L. Walton, Lithog. Printed by Hullmandel & Walton.

WESTERN HIMALAYA

AND

TIBET;
A NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY THROUGH THE
MOUNTAINS OF NORTHERN INDIA,

DURING THE YEARS 1847-8.

BY
THOMAS THOMSON, M.D., F.L.S.,
ASSISTANT SURGEON BENGAL ARMY.

LONDON:
REEVE AND CO., HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN.

1852.

PRINTED BY
JOHN EDWARD TAYLOR, LITTLE QUEEN STREET,
LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS.

PREFACE.

On the termination of my journey in Tibet, I submitted to the Indian
Government a detailed report of my observations in that country. It was my
original intention to request the permission of the Court of Directors to
publish this report in the form in which it was drawn up; but after my return
to England, this plan was, at the suggestion of friends, abandoned for that
now followed.
At the time of my appointment to the Tibet Mission, my attention had not
been specially directed to the Himalaya, but I have since had many
opportunities of studying that chain of mountains. My first definite
impressions of Himalayan geography were received from my fellow-
travellers, Major Cunningham and Captain Henry Strachey. The latter
gentleman had just completed one of the most adventurous journeys ever
made in the Himalaya; and Major Cunningham's knowledge of the
geography of Northern India is so accurate and extensive, that the delay in
the publication of his map, although caused by the devotion of his leisure
time to other branches of research, is a subject of deep regret to all who
know its value. More recently I have had the good fortune to travel in the
Eastern Himalaya with Dr. Hooker, and it was a source of great gratification
to me, when we met, to find that in studying these mountains at opposite
extremities of the chain, the results at which we had arrived were almost
identical.
My botanical collections, which were very extensive, have as yet been only
roughly assorted, and the names of plants given in the present work are
chiefly derived from a careful comparison of specimens with the Hookerian

Herbarium at Kew,—a collection which, as is well known to Botanists, both
from its extent and from the liberality with which it is thrown open to
students of that science, occupies in this country the place of a national
collection.
The heights of places given in the work have been derived from very
various sources. Those in the earlier part are chiefly from the extremely
accurate observations of the Gerards; for others I have to thank my fellow-
travellers; but the greater number are calculated from my own observations
of the boiling-point of water, and do not therefore pretend to great accuracy.
Still the thermometer which I used (by Dollond) was a very good one, and
comparisons with barometric observations, or with known heights, have
given such results as satisfy me that at considerable elevations it may be
depended upon to within three or four hundred feet as an extreme error.
The orthography of oriental proper names is a question of great difficulty,
and grave objections may be urged against any system which has been
proposed. If each European nation represents the sound of the vowels and
variable consonants after the mode which prevails in its own language, then
proper names must be translated, as it were, when rendered from one of
these languages into another; whereas, if the mode of spelling the names
remain fixed, then the value of the letters must be different in the majority
of the languages from that which usually prevails. For purely popular
purposes the former method would probably be the most judicious; and the
English language has peculiar facilities for rendering oriental sounds, in
consequence of its possessing the open sound of u, as in but, which is
wanting in other European languages, though so common in Arabic,
Persian, and Hindee, and all cognate tongues.
A uniform mode of spelling, however, has so many advantages, that I have
been induced to give it a preference; but it will be seen that in a few
instances, where the popular mode of spelling has become familiar, and as it
were a portion of the English language, as in the words Punjab, Jumna,
Sutlej, Kussowlee, and a few others, I have not had courage to carry out the
rule.
For the plates which accompany the work I have to thank Mr.
Winterbottom, who very kindly permitted me to select from a series of

sketches those which I thought most suitable. This was not an easy task; but
in the two views of the neighbourhood of Iskardo I found so faithful a
representation of the extremely rugged scenery of the Tibetan mountains,
contrasted with the level plain of Iskardo, and the lacustrine strata of the
neighbourhood, that no more desirable illustrations for a journey in Tibet
could be conceived. The little vignette, too, though it does not represent any
part of the country through which I travelled, is precisely similar to many
ravines in Rondu, and serves to show that the Gilgit valley is quite the same
in general appearance with that district. I was more particularly desirous of
introducing this sketch, from the very faithful representation it contains of
the alluvial platforms which skirt the streams in every part of Tibet.
The map is founded principally upon Mr. Arrowsmith's large map, and his
name is its best guarantee. The districts round the Pangong lake are taken
from a sketch given to me by Captain H. Strachey, and the whole of the
eastern part has been revised by him. A great part of the course of the
Shayuk has been laid in by Mr. Arrowsmith from my own rough survey,
while the little-known district between Jamu and Zanskar, which I was not
competent to survey, has been rendered as nearly as possible from the notes
which I had made of the length and direction of my marches.
The sketch of the district between Nubra and the Karakoram pass, which
will, I hope, be found useful as an illustration of that part of my journey, has
been prepared for me by Dr. Hooker, from a rough draft of my survey,
assisted by verbal explanations.
In conclusion, I have to add, that for the correction of the press, during
which process many asperities by which the manuscript was disfigured
have disappeared, I have to thank my kind friends, Dr. and Mrs. Hooker.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
Page
Appointment to a Mission about to proceed to Tibet—Leave Firozpur for
Simla—Approach to the Mountains—Appearance of Himalaya from
Plains of India—Kalka—Ascent to Kussowlee—Vegetation of
Plainward Face—Origin of Kussowlee Ridge—Climate and Vegetation
of Kussowlee—Aspect of inner ranges—Road from Kussowlee to
Simla—Sabathu—Cross Gambar River—Haripur—Tropical
Vegetation of Basin of Gambar—Steep Ascent to Simla—its extent
and situation—its Vegetation—Oak-forest—Pines—Flora of Spring
Months—of Rainy Season—View from Peak of Jako—Structure of
Mountain Ranges 1

CHAPTER II.
Leave Simla—Mahasu Ridge—Pine Forest—Summit of Mahasu—
Vegetation of Northern Slope—Fagu—Theog—Mattiana—Cultivated
Valley—Nagkanda—Ascent of Hattu—Forest of Pine and Oak—
Vegetation of Summit—View from top of Mountain—Plainward
slopes bare of forest, while those facing the interior are well wooded—
Cultivation at 9500 feet—Descent from Nagkanda towards Sutlej—
Damp shady Ravine densely wooded—Kotgarh—Cultivation—Rapid
Descent—Change of Climate—Tropical Vegetation—Rampur—
Swing-bridge—Diurnal fluctuations in level of River—Gaora—
Serahan—Tranda—Western boundary of Kunawar 29

CHAPTER III.
ildang river—Fine grove of Deodars—Nachar—Fruit-trees—Vine seen
for first time—Boundaries of Kulu and Kunawar—Cross Sutlej at
Wangtu bridge—Vegetation of bare rocky valley—Waterfall—
Chegaon—Pinus Gerardiana—Miru—Absence of rain—Alteration of
vegetation—Quercus Ilex—Rogi—Willow and Poplar—Chini—
Cultivated Plain—Kashbir—Pangi—Camp at upper level of trees—
Junipers—Werang Pass—Alpine Vegetation—Birch and
Rhododendron—Granite Boulders—Lipa—Alluvial Deposits—
Encamp at 12,500 feet—Runang Pass—Vegetation very scanty—
Stunted Forest—Sungnam 63

CHAPTER IV.
Hangarang ridge separates Kunawar from Piti—Ascent to Hangarang
Pass—Alluvial deposit—Steep ascent—View of valley—Limestone
rocks—Caragana versicolor, or Dama—Camp at 14,000 feet—Top of
pass—View from pass—Vegetation of summit—Descent to Hango—
Cultivation round the village—Luxuriant wild plants—Road to Lio—
Crambe—Ravine of Piti river—Lio—Bridge over Piti river—Ascent
to Nako—Nako—Cultivation of the village—Buddhist temple—
Transported blocks—Chango—Changar—Stopped by villagers on
Chinese frontier—Natural bridge—Kyuri—Alluvium—Clay deposit
with shells—Lari—Ramifications of mountain ranges—Alluvial
platforms—Pok—Dankar—Lara—Rangrig—Upper part of Piti—
Climate—Saline exudations 96

CHAPTER V.
Leave valley of Piti river—Kibar—Cultivation above 14,000 feet— 130
Vegetation of mountains—Rocky gorge—Encampment at 17,000 feet
—Parang Pass—Snow-bed and glacier—First plants at 16,500 feet—
Parang valley—Gorge leading to Chumoreri Lake—Kiang, or wild
horse—Chumurti—Remarkable grassy plain—Lanak Pass—Granite

boulders—Plants above 18,000 feet—Undulating hilly country—
Hanle plain—Vegetation—Monastery of Hanle

CHAPTER VI.
Descend Hanle river—Unsettled weather—Encamp on banks of Indus—
Upper course of Indus—Pugha ravine—Forest of Myricaria trees—
Borax plain—Hot springs—Borax lakes of Eastern Tibet—Sulphur
mine—Pulokanka Pass—Salt lake—Lacustrine clays with shells—
Ancient water-mark—Rupchu—Tunglung Pass—Fall of snow—
Alluvial conglomerate—Giah—Narrow ravine—Miru—Upshi—Indus
valley—Marsilang—Richly cultivated plain of Chashut—Bridge over
Indus—Le—Buddhist edifices 155

CHAPTER VII.
Departure from Le—Sabu valley—Pass between Le and Nubra—Snow
—Encamp at 15,500 feet—Digar—Valley of Shayuk—Alluvium—
Populus Euphratica—Tsatti—Nubra river—District of Nubra—
Villages—Irrigation—Saline soil—Isolated rocks—Chirasa—Panamik
—Lower Nubra—Platforms of Alluvium—Traces of a great flood—
Unmaru—Kuru—Great contraction of valley—Mountain pass of
Waris—Boghdan ravine—Chorbat—Mahommedan population—
Villages—Outburst of granite—Siksa—Khapalu—Open plain of
Khapalu—Junction of Shayuk and Indus—Nar—Iskardo plain—
Description of Iskardo—Aqueduct—Fort—Lacustrine clay formation
—Vegetation 187

CHAPTER VIII.
Leave Iskardo in the direction of Kashmir—First march through snow to 223
Turgu—Lacustrine clay—it extends into narrow valleys beyond Nar—
Gol—Junction of Indus and Shayuk—Parkuta—Tolti—Kartash—
Extensive lacustrine deposits—Tarkata—Road turns up the Dras river
—Ulding Thung—Fall of snow—Hardas—Karbu—Continued snow—
Dras—Find pass in front shut by deep snow—Obliged to return to

Iskardo—Rafts and rope-bridges on Indus—Elæagnus and Apricot
apparently wild—Winter at Iskardo

CHAPTER IX.
Leave Iskardo for Rondu—Insurrection in Gilgit—Koardu—Kamar—
Enter narrow part of Indus valley—Difficult road—Range of
mountains south of Indus—Description of Rondu—Thawar—
Avalanches—Alluvium—Swing-bridge—Villages—Juniper—Pinus
excelsa—Rocks—Vegetation—Return to Iskardo—Agriculture of
Balti—Game of Chaugan—Chakor hunting—Shigar valley—Journey
towards Kashmir—Dras valley—Karbu—Dras fort—Maten—Cross
pass into Kashmir—Baltal—Valley of Sind river—Sonamarg—
Gagangir—Gond—Gangan—Ganderbal—Enter main valley of
Kashmir—Town of Kashmir—Description of Kashmir—Lacustrine
formation—Trap hills—Lake—Climate—Vegetation 248

CHAPTER X.
Environs of Kashmir—City lake—Gardens of Shalimar and Dilawer
Khan—Pampur—Avantipura—Platforms of lacustrine clay—
Mountain of Wasterwan—Ancient city—Clay, with shells and
fragments of pottery—Ancient temple imbedded in clay—Lakes
caused by subsidence—Islamabad—Shahabad—Vegetation—Vernag
—Banahal Pass—Valley of Banahal—Tropical vegetation—Pass
above Chenab Valley—Nasmon—Jhula, or Swing-bridge—Balota—
Ladhe ke Dhar—Katti—Fort of Landar—Mir—Kirmichi—Tertiary
sandstones—Dhuns—Seda—Jamu 285

CHAPTER XI.
Leave Jamu to return to Tibet—Lake of Sirohi Sar—Vegetation of lower
hills—Dodonæa—Ramnagar—Garta—Dadu, on a tributary of the
Chenab—Camp at 10,000 feet—Badarwar—Padri pass—Descend a
tributary of the Ravi—and ascend another towards the north—Sach
Joth, or pass—Snow-beds—Camp in Chenab valley 315

CHAPTER XII.
Marked change in the Vegetation—Bridge over Chenab—Pargwal—
Description of Chenab valley—Asdhari—Chatargarh—Road turns up
valley of Butna—Vegetation of Chenab valley—Chishot—Snow-beds
—Camp at 10,500 feet—Ancient moraines—Glacier—Camp at 11,500
feet—Rapid ascent along glacier—Camp on moraine, at 14,600 feet—
Change of weather—Ascent towards pass over glacier—Cross Umasi
La—Descent—Immense glacier—Encamp in Tibet, at 13,800 feet—
Open valley of Zanskar—Padum—Great change of climate—and in
vegetation 342

CHAPTER XIII.
Rope bridge across Zanskar river—Tongde—Zangla—Road leaves
Zanskar river—Takti La—Nira—Bridge over Zanskar river—Singhi
La—Phutaksha—Wandla—Lama Yuru—Cross Indus river—Kalatze
—Nurla—Saspola—Nimo—Le—Pass north of Le—Small glacier—
Kardong—Kalsar—Vegetation—Diskit—Passage of Shayuk river—
Upper Nubra—Vegetation of Nubra—Hot spring at Panamik 367

CHAPTER XIV.
tart for Karakoram—Steep ascent out of Nubra valley—Meet a party of
Merchants from Yarkand—View from summit of pass—Rapid torrent
—Large glacier—Steep moraines—Alpine vegetation—Numerous
glaciers—Lakes—Glacier on crest of Sassar pass—Sassar—Cross
Shayuk river—Murgai—Limestone rocks—Ascend Murgai Valley to
16,800 feet—Singular limestone formation—Open plain above 17,000
feet—Re-cross Shayuk river—Karakoram pass—Return to Sassar—
Glaciers of Sassar—Return to Le—Start for Kashmir—Lamayuru—
Phatu pass—Kanji river—Namika pass—Molbil—Pashkyum—Kargil
—Dras—Zoji pass—Kashmir—Lahore—Completion of journey 408

CHAPTER XV.

General description of Tibet—Systems of mountains—Trans-Sutlej
Himalaya—Cis-Sutlej Himalaya—Kouenlun—Four passes across
Kouenlun—Boundaries of Western Tibet—Height of its mountain
ranges and passes—Climate of Tibet—Clouds—Winds—Snow-fall—
Glaciers—their former greater extension—Elevation to which they
descend—Snow-level—Geology—Lacustrine clay and alluvium 456

MAP of the MOUNTAINS OF
NORTHERN INDIA. to illustrate
Dr. Thomson's Travels in
Western Himalaya and Tibet.

Dr. Thomson's Route is coloured
Red.

Drawn & Engraved by John Arrowsmith.

View larger image (2.4 MB)

WESTERN HIMALAYA
AND

TIBET.

CHAPTER I.
Appointment to a Mission about to proceed to Tibet—Leave Firozpur for Simla—Approach to the
Mountains—Appearance of Himalaya from Plains of India—Kalka—Ascent to Kussowlee—
Vegetation of Plainward Face—Origin of Kussowlee Ridge—Climate and Vegetation of
Kussowlee—Aspect of inner ranges—Road from Kussowlee to Simla—Sabathu—Cross Gambar
River—Haripur—Tropical Vegetation of Basin of Gambar—Steep Ascent to Simla—its extent and
situation—its Vegetation—Oak-forest—Pines—Flora of Spring Months—of Rainy Season—View
from Peak of Jako—Structure of Mountain Ranges.

In the month of May, 1847, while with my Regiment at Firozpur on the
south bank of the Sutlej, I received intimation that Lord Hardinge, at that
time Governor-General of India, had appointed me a member of a mission
which he had determined to despatch across the Himalaya Mountains into
Tibet; and I was directed to proceed without delay to Simla, from which
place the mission was to start, as soon as the necessary arrangements could
be completed.
I left Firozpur on the evening of the 20th of May, and travelling only at
night, on account of the extreme heat, I arrived at the foot of the hills, on
the morning of the 24th. The greater part of the road was through a
perfectly level country, and nearly parallel to the Sutlej, but without
following its sinuosities. During a part of the last night's journey, I travelled
among low hills, partly composed of loose sand and boulders, partly of clay
and sandstone. The road enters this tract by an open valley, bounded on
both sides by hills, which on the left are low and rounded. On the right they
are scarped towards the plains, as well as towards the valley up which I
travelled, and the strata of which they are composed, dip towards the
Himalaya. The valley is traversed by a little stream descending from the
mountains, one of the tributaries of the Gagar or Markanda, that remarkable
river, which runs in a south-west direction, as if about to join the Indus, but
ultimately loses itself in the sands of the Bikanir desert.
When viewed from the plains of India, at a distance
APPEARANCE OF sufficient to enable the spectator to see the most
HIMALAYA FROM
THE PLAINS OF elevated part of the chain, the Himalaya appear to form
INDIA. several distinct parallel ranges on the horizon, rising in
May, 1847.
succession one behind another. The most distant of
these is covered with perpetual snow, while the other
two, usually called the middle and outer ranges, have the usual blue-grey
tint of distant mountains. From very great distances in the plains, the most
remote of these three apparent ranges is alone visible; and as the traveller
advances towards the base of the mountains, the others rise in succession
above the horizon.
The optical deception, in consequence of which, masses of mountains of
every configuration resolve themselves into ranges perpendicular to the line
of sight, as soon as the eye is so far removed that the outline of the different

parts becomes indistinct, has given to our maps many mountain-chains,
which a nearer inspection proves to have no existence. As a good instance
of this, I may mention the Suliman range, west of the Indus, which, though
laid down in all our maps as a mountain belt, parallel to and skirting the
plain country, behind which no mountains at all are represented, evidently
consists of a series of ranges, almost perpendicular to the Indus, and
separated from one another by considerable rivers. The sources of these
rivers lie far back, and the north and south axis from which they spring,
separates all the tributaries of the Indus from a succession of streams, which
run in a south-westerly direction, and appear to terminate, without reaching
the sea, in the low and flat country of Seistan and western Beluchistan.
At distances of between sixty and thirty miles from the base of the
Himalaya, the three parallel chains are well seen. On a nearer approach, the
lower and outer mountains by degrees become more distinct, and subtend a
greater angle, so as at last to conceal the more distant portions of the chain.
At the same time, the uniformity of outline by which they had been
characterized, insensibly disappears. Ridges become visible in the face
presented to the eye, which, as the traveller continues to advance, become
developed into projecting spurs, separated from the general mass by wide
valleys, previously quite undistinguishable. On a still nearer approach, the
elevation continuing to increase, the extent of range embraced by the eye is
gradually lessened, till at last, when we arrive at the base of the mountains,
a single valley with its bounding ranges of low hills is alone visible, the
giant masses, so conspicuous from a greater distance, being no longer to be
seen.
The low sandy or sandstone hills, which form the outskirts of the Himalaya,
are not, on the road from Firozpur to Simla, anywhere of greater elevation
than a few hundred feet. A few miles beyond the entrance, the valley, which
has a considerable slope, widens as it approaches the more lofty mountains,
and the sandstone cliffs are replaced by rounded hills, probably of a more
ancient rock, covered with soil and vegetation.
At the very base of the steep mountains is situated the
KALKA. village of Kalka, at which, as it is the termination of
May, 1847.
palankin travelling, travellers in general stop, to arrange
for the continuance of their journey. Situated close to the source of the little

stream which I had been following since I had entered the hilly country, and
surrounded on all sides by low hills, Kalka has an elevation of perhaps 2000
feet above the level of the sea, or 1000 feet above the plain on the outside of
the sandstone hills.
The general aspect of the low hills around Kalka is barren and uninviting; it
was especially so at the season of my visit, when the great heat had
scorched the herbaceous vegetation, and all nature had a burnt-up
appearance. The subtropical valleys are not here, as farther to the east along
the base of the mountains, filled with dense forest. They are in general bare,
a few scattered trees only appearing here and there. In the level part of the
valley, at the very entrance, where the soil was still of some depth, Acacia
Arabica and Butea frondosa, the most prevailing trees of the plains beyond,
were frequent; but the stony water-courses contained little but a bamboo,
and the hill-sides were covered with scattered bushes of the more ordinary
shrubs of the plains of Northern India, and presented few features of
interest.
Immediately on leaving Kalka, a long and steep ascent
ASCENT TO commenced, continuing for about ten miles, to the
KUSSOWLEE.
May, 1847. military post of Kussowlee, which occupies the crest of
the ridge overlooking the Kalka valley, and can be seen
throughout the greater part of the ascent, overhanging the winding road,
which has been constructed along the side of the mountain. The elevation of
Kussowlee is about 6500 feet, an altitude at which the climate in the
Himalaya is perfectly temperate, so that during the ascent a traveller from
the plains of India meets with a complete change of climate, a change, too,
which in the month of May, the period of my visit, is particularly grateful,
the heat below being most oppressive and disagreeable.
As the elevation increases, the view from the road becomes more extensive.
The low ranges of hills to the south and west, which had obstructed the
view, are by degrees overtopped, and the plains beyond become visible.
Soon after leaving Kalka the road crosses a low ridge, and enters a receding
bay, or steeply sloping valley beyond, at the upper extremity of which, all
along the crest, are seen the houses of Kussowlee. Winding round this
valley, and continuing to rise, the stream in its centre is crossed about
midway, and the ascent continues on the spur which forms its western

boundary. This ridge is crossed close to the point where it is given off by
the main range, and the road, winding round its most projecting part, enters
a fir-wood, and, turning back very abruptly in an opposite direction,
proceeds eastward along the northern face of the Kussowlee range.
The plainward face of this range, along which the road
VEGETATION. from Kalka ascends, is quite devoid of forest. The
May, 1847.
lower part is covered with scattered jungle, to use a
most expressive Indian word, of small shrubs, almost all of forms common
in the plains. Carissa and Adhatoda are the most common, with Rottlera
tinctoria, a plant which does not extend far into the plains, and a scandent
leguminous shrub, apparently a species of Mucuna. Around the few houses
which occur on the ascent, the bamboo occurs planted, as well as the
mango, and other common cultivated trees of the Indian plains. At an
elevation of about 4000 feet, an alteration in the vegetation begins to be
perceptible. The thin jungle of plain shrubs disappears, the few shrubs
which still occur, are generally scattered bushes of Hamiltonia, Nyctanthes,
Prinsepia, Scutellaria, and Rubus, but the slopes are usually bare and
grassy. Ferns and mosses appear in the crevices of the rocks, and the first
individuals of those species which predominate in the temperate zone, are
found in shady spots where they are sheltered from the sun. At the same
elevation Euphorbia pentagona makes its appearance. This tree, which is
confined to the hottest and driest slopes of the Himalaya, is remarkable for
its peculiar shape, its thick fleshy five-angled branches, and its milky juice.
It is nowhere to be met with in the plains of Upper India, but is common
throughout the subtropical belt of the Himalaya from Kamaon westward.
A glance at the map will serve to show that the great
ORIGIN OF Himalayan mountain range, dividing the waters of the
KUSSOWLEE
RIDGE. Sutlej from those of the Jumna, holds a nearly due east
May, 1847. and west course in its middle part, but that at its
western extremity it bends round to the south, and
terminates in the Indian plain, not far from the town of Nahan, and that
(among many others) the Kussowlee ridge is a branch from it, running in a
north-westerly direction, and separating the waters of the more western
branch of the Gambar, from the small tributaries of the Gagar, which find
their way to the plains on the left hand.

The ridge upon which the station of Kussowlee is built, nowhere attains an
elevation exceeding 7000 feet. It is very narrow, and often rocky and
precipitous immediately below the crest on the plainward face, which dips
very suddenly. The inner slope is somewhat less abrupt, and is covered from
the summit to perhaps 1000 feet below it, with an open forest of a species
of fir (Pinus longifolia), which, in general appearance and mode of growth,
much resembles the Scotch fir, but is distinguished by the very great length
of its leaves. The barracks for the troops and the houses of the residents are
scattered over the northern slope, or perched on the narrow summit of the
ridge.
The shrubby and herbaceous vegetation which occurs scattered among the
fir-wood, is so markedly different from that which prevails at the base of
the mountains, and during the greater part of the ascent, that the traveller
appears suddenly transported into a new world. Instead of those tribes of the
vegetable kingdom which abound in the torrid zone, all the forms which
now meet the eye are characteristic of a temperate climate. The moderate
elevation of the range, and its proximity to the plains, tend to lessen the
rapidity of the diminution of temperature; and as the greater part of the
ascent lies on a bare sunny slope, the tropical flora extends towards the
summit, much farther than it does on ranges which rise higher, and are
clothed with shady forest. During the ascent, therefore, the traveller, though
often struck with the appearance of new forms, is still accompanied by
many species familiar to him as natives of tropical jungles, but on passing
to the northern face of the spur, the temperate region is at once entered, and
most of the tropical forms disappear.
As soon as the crest of the first slope of the Himalaya
VIEW FROM has been gained, the eye is naturally directed towards
KUSSOWLEE.
May, 1847. the mountains beyond, in order to ascertain their
appearance and position, when viewed at a diminished
distance and from so much more considerable an elevation than had
previously been the case. Nor will the view from Kussowlee in favourable
weather disappoint the traveller who is desirous of meeting with beautiful
scenery. Immediately to the north lies a deep ravine, and beyond a single
ridge is the wide valley of the Gambar, with numerous mountain spurs,
which, from their comparatively lower level, are not prominently brought
into view. To the south-east the main range dips abruptly to a level, nearly

1000 feet below what it attains in the station of Kussowlee itself, but again
rises into the finely wooded hill on which has recently been built the
Lawrence Asylum. Still further to the south are deep dells, with bare and
rugged slaty mountains, scarcely at all wooded. In the months of May and
June, when the atmosphere is generally extremely hazy, the prospect is
limited to the ranges more immediately in the vicinity; but occasionally
even in these months, as well as in the dry intervals of the rainy season, and
during the delightful autumn weather which follows the termination of the
rains, a much more distant prospect is opened, stretching far up the valley
of the Sutlej, to the snow-clad peaks which, on either hand, hem in that
river.
In the direction of the plains of India, the view is also very remarkable. The
Kussowlee ridge so completely overtops the hills which intervene between
it and the level country, that from its summit they interfere very little with
the commanding view of the interminable flat which, like the ocean,
stretches as far as vision extends. In the usual state of the atmosphere,
especially in the hot season, a dense haze overhangs the plains, and entirely
obscures their more distant parts; but in the cold season, as well as at day-
break in summer, and especially after heavy rains, the misty vapours are
entirely dissipated, and distant objects are defined with extreme precision.
Perhaps the most striking, because the most unexpected part of the view of
the inner Himalaya, from Kussowlee, lies in the great depth of the valleys in
the interior, and the distance of the next elevated range, of which the
appearance of the mountains from the plains of India affords no indication.
The extreme narrowness of the ridge, and the suddenness of the descent on
both sides, is also very remarkable, and has, as already remarked, a very
sensible effect on the climate, the heat of the lower mass being conveyed
upwards, while the small extent of the knife-edge-like ridge, which rises
above 6000 feet, exposes a minimum surface to the refrigerating influences
of a rarefied atmosphere.
The distance from Kussowlee to Simla is by the road
ROAD TO SIMLA. about thirty miles, though in a direct line the two places
May, 1847.
are not much more than half that distance apart. The
road descends from Kussowlee almost to the level of the plains, crossing
the Gambar at an elevation of a little less than 3000 feet, and ascends to

Simla by following the ridge which runs parallel to that river on its right
bank, the source of the Gambar being immediately below Simla. It would
indeed be possible to reach Simla, by following the crest of the ridge,
without descending at all into the valley of the river; but for this purpose it
would be necessary to follow the Kussowlee ridge so far to the southward,
in order to reach its junction with the main range, that the length of the
journey would be very much greater than that now followed. The road,
therefore, only keeps the ridge for a very short distance, or as far as the
"col," or lower part immediately north of Kussowlee, which is quite bare of
trees. It then turns abruptly to the left, descending on the north face of a
spur, at first in a winding manner, afterwards for a short distance along a
shady ravine, and finally through a good deal of cultivation, at an elevation
of between 4000 and 5000 feet, to a considerable stream which runs
towards the north to join the Gambar. The greatest part of the descent is
bare of trees, except along the banks of the little stream, which are covered
with a belt of wood. The cultivated lands are extensive, occupying a flattish
terraced slope, such as is of very general occurrence in the mountains, the
fields being adapted for the growth of rain crops, principally of rice, with a
few fields of ginger and cardamoms.
After reaching the stream just mentioned, which is
SABATHU. crossed by a ford, a suspension bridge, for which the
May, 1847.
piers are partly built, having never been erected, the
road continues to descend parallel to it towards the north, passing under the
military station of Sabathu, which, at the elevation of 4200 feet, occupies
the crest of the ridge immediately to the east of the little river, a very short
distance before its junction with the Gambar.
After passing Sabathu the road turns to the right, round the projecting ridge
of the range, and descends rapidly to the valley of the Gambar river, which
is crossed by a good suspension bridge at an elevation of 2700 feet above
the level of the sea. It then ascends by a steep and laborious path to Haripur,
a small village about 500 feet above the bed of the river. The Gambar river,
where the road crosses it, flows through a narrow rocky ravine, somewhat
picturesque, but quite devoid of trees. This, however, is not the general
character of the river-bed, which is frequently wide, with a broad gravelly
channel, and sloping though often rather steep mountains on either side.
There is occasionally even a strip of flat land, capable of cultivation along

the banks; and where such is the case, the water of the river is carried off in
artificial channels, for the purpose of irrigation.
After attaining the crest of the ridge, and passing through the village of
Haripur, the road follows the ridge parallel to the river Gambar, nearly all
the way to Simla, not always on the very crest or top, which would entail a
great many unnecessary ascents and descents, but generally a little on one
side or other of the hill, as circumstances may render most convenient; at
one time ascending rather steeply, but more generally rather gently as far as
Sairi, the last stage on the way to Simla, beyond which the road is pretty
level, nearly to the bottom of the mountain on which Simla stands.
The valley of the river Gambar may be regarded as an excellent specimen
of a smaller Himalayan river, draining a large extent of country, and
discharging its waters independently into the plains, though not, like the
first-class rivers, deriving its origin from the snowy mountains. The
southern border of the basin of the Gambar, is of course the main chain of
the South Sutlej Himalaya; and the whole of the country between the Jutog
spur, which leaves that chain at Simla, and the Kussowlee ridge, the origin
of which I have already detailed, is drained by the Gambar and its
tributaries. This includes an extent of country of not less than 1000 square
miles, the bounding ranges of which have, throughout the greater part of
their extent, an elevation varying from 8000 to about 6000 feet. Both the
Kussowlee and Jutog ranges dip at last rather abruptly, so that it is only
during a very short distance that they are below the last-mentioned
elevation. This elevation, which is quite temperate, is however by no means
that of the whole superficies of the basin, the bed of the river having, at its
débouchure into the Sutlej, an elevation of not more than 2000 feet, and
rising very gently till near its source immediately below Simla. The lateral
ridges, which traverse the basin in every direction, are in general less
elevated; not exceeding 5000 feet in their upper part, and sinking to 3000 or
even lower, so that the mean elevation of the whole basin cannot be
estimated, I should think, higher than 3500 feet.
Such being the case, it is not surprising that the general
BASIN OF appearance of the vegetation should be tropical, and
GAMBAR
VEGETATION. closely approximate to that of the low hills on the very
May, 1847. exterior of the Himalaya. This is in general the case.

The hills, which are generally grassy, and, though steep and frequently
stony, rarely rocky or precipitous, are quite devoid of forest, or even
brushwood, except in a few shady nooks with a northern exposure, and
favourably situated with respect to moisture; the shrubby vegetation being
thin and scattered. This total want of forest, is unquestionably caused by the
dryness of the climate during the greater part of the year, which is to a
certain degree increased beyond what it would otherwise be, by the
proximity of the surrounding mountain ranges, to which a large proportion
of the rain-clouds are no doubt attracted.
In the shady ravines north of Kussowlee, where there is the greatest
approach to forest, a species of laurel is the most conspicuous tree. On the
more exposed hills, Falconeria insignis and Euphorbia pentagona occur,
scattered as small trees, and one small wood of Ægle marmelos is passed
close to the village of Haripur. The most common shrubs are Adhatoda
Vasica, Carissa, and Zizyphus Jujuba, species universal in the plains of
upper India; Colebrookea oppositifolia, Grislea, Bergera, Roylea and
Bœhmeria nivea, all species which are throughout the north-west Himalaya,
characteristic of the lower and drier parts of the outer ranges. Two Labiate
shrubs, Plectranthus rugosus and Meriandra strobilifera, are particularly
abundant on the slopes between Haripur and Sairi, and strongly mark the
aridity of the climate.
The herbaceous vegetation, being principally of annual growth, approaches
still more closely to the plains types. At the season of my journey in May,
the extreme drought had dried up almost all the smaller plants, but during,
and immediately after the rainy season the herbage is very luxuriant. The
steep slopes are then covered with a uniform herbage of tall grasses, which
is in many places cut and preserved for hay, by the inhabitants of the
scattered villages in the valleys. The most prevailing grasses are a tall
sweet-scented Cymbopogon and Heteropogon contortus. A species of
Kalanchoë, a large and conspicuous plant, with thick fleshy leaves, is very
common, and the superb Gloriosa or Methonica is by no means rare.
On the highest ridges in the valley, at elevations of 5000 feet and upwards,
there are frequent approaches to the temperate flora, the shady slopes on
northern exposures being frequently covered with small patches of
brushwood, containing species of Berberis, Rubus, Spiræa, etc., and

numerous herbaceous species, of forms common at Simla. These, however,
are quite exceptional, though no doubt with a very little more humidity the
shrubby vegetation would rapidly extend, and under its shelter many small
plants would be able to grow, which are now, when they attempt to
vegetate, destroyed by the scorching heat of the sun.
It must also not be forgotten, that notwithstanding the general tendency to a
tropical flora, the natural result of the low elevation and great aridity of
these hills, a portion of the vegetation even at the lowest levels consists of
plants of European forms, such as characterize the temperate vegetation of
the Himalaya. I do not here refer to what may be called the cold-weather
vegetation of the plains of north-western India, at which season, the
temperature of the air approaching to that of the summer of the temperate
zone, a considerable number of European plants make their appearance in
corn-fields and along the banks of water-courses; as, for example, Veronica
Anagallis and agrestis, Anagallis, Medicago, Melilotus, Potentilla supina,
Juncus bufonius, Arenaria serpyllifolia, Heliotropium Europæum, and many
others. These naturally occur at the same season, in the low valleys among
the hills, in similar situations. The circumstance to which I desire to advert,
is the occurrence at very low levels among the mountains, during the hot
and rainy seasons, of species belonging to genera characteristic of
temperate climates, and which therefore are the prevailing forms at
considerable elevations on the Himalaya. As instances, I may adduce the
occurrence in the valley of the Gambar, at elevations not exceeding 3000
feet, of species of Thalictrum, Fragaria, Rosa, Rubus, Berberis, &c., &c.
This remarkable fact has been ascribed by Jacquemont[1] to the obscure
influence of the mountains; and as the genera just enumerated never occur
in the plains of Upper India, it appears evident that the mountainous nature
of the country must be viewed as an essential element in the reasons for
their descent. These, with some others which also occur at low levels in the
Himalaya, appear to be in all parts of the continent of India those genera of
temperate climates, which descend to the lowest altitudes. Some of them
were found by Dr. Hooker on Parasnâth, a hill in upper Behar, the elevation
of which does not exceed 4000 feet; and they are all natives of moderate
elevations on the Nilgherries and in Ceylon, as well as on the Khasya
mountains in eastern Bengal.

The ridge which runs from Haripur to Sairi, parallel to
ASCENT TO the river Gambar, is a branch from the Jutog spur,
SIMLA.
May, 1847. nearly north of Simla, a ridge which is given off by the
main South Sutlej chain in Simla itself, and which runs
SIMLA. directly north to the Sutlej river. The road, after
May, 1847. following this ridge till within a few miles of Simla,
leaves it on the left hand, to descend into a small stony
ravine; after crossing which it mounts abruptly a very steep spur, ascending
at least 1500 feet to gain the crest of the ridge, and enter Simla at its north-
western extremity.
The hill station of Simla, which was originally selected as a sanatarium, or
suitable residence for the servants of Government, or other Europeans,
whose health had been impaired by disease, or by too long residence in a
tropical climate, has of late years, in consequence of the political state of
north-western India, and of the increasing number of retired officers, and of
gentlemen unconnected with the public service, who have made it their
residence, become a place of great importance. Besides an extensive bazaar
or collection of shops, which may now almost be designated a small native
town, Simla contains nearly 400 houses, scattered along the crest of
different mountain ranges. Its situation is a most favourable one, on the
main range of mountains south of the Sutlej river, at a point where a
massive peak rises to a height of 8100 feet, and on the nearest part of the
ridge to the plains of India, which is sufficiently elevated, well wooded, and
situated favourably with regard to water. The greater part of the station is
built on the main range, partly surrounding the peak of Jako, and partly on
the ridge running north from it, at an elevation of about 7000 feet, as far as
a smaller culminating point of the range, which is by the inhabitants named
Prospect Point. At this point the main range turns sharply to the west, and
the station is continued for nearly a mile on a spur which runs towards the
north, passing through the station of Jutog. From the scattered position of
the houses, the extent of Simla is much more considerable than the bare
statement of the number of houses might lead one to suppose. The northern
ridge extends almost four miles, and the circuit of Jako, by the principal
road, which is from 500 to 1000 feet below the summit, measures five
miles.

In consequence of the sudden elevation of the mountain range at the place
where Simla has been built, there is a most complete and surprising change
in the vegetation and general appearance of the scenery. During the last
ascent on the road from the plains this is sufficiently perceptible, although
from the great ravages which the proximity of so large a population has
made in the oak woods, only a few stunted bushes are now left on the
southern exposure. Between the plains and Simla the hills are totally devoid
of trees, but immediately on gaining the top of the ridge on which the
station is built, we enter a fine forest, which covers all the broader parts of
the range, especially the slopes which have a northern aspect, stretching
down on these in many places to the bottom of the valleys, fully 2000 feet.
The nature of the forest varies a good deal with the
OAK FOREST. exposure and with the quality of the soil. By far the
May, 1847.
greater part consists of an oak and a rhododendron,
both small evergreen trees, rarely exceeding thirty or
PINES OF SIMLA.
May, 1847. forty feet, with wide-spreading arms and rugged twisted
branches. A species of Andromeda is also very
common, and a holly, an Euonymus, Rhamnus, and Benthamia, are the other
more common trees, if we except the Coniferæ, of which four species occur.
Of these, Pinus longifolia is common at the western or lower extremity of
the station, and prevails, to the exclusion of any other tree, on the dry sunny
spurs which run towards the south, at elevations from 7000 to 5000 feet.
This species is, of all the Indian pines known to me (except its near ally P.
Khasyana), that which is capable of enduring the most heat, and at the same
time the greatest variation in amount of moisture; as it is found at elevations
of not more than 1000 feet above the level of the sea, equally in the hot
humid valleys of Sikkim, where it enjoys a perpetual vapour-bath, and on
the dry sandstone hills of the upper Punjab, on which rain hardly ever falls.
It is only, however, at low elevations, where the mean temperature is high,
that it is capable of supporting a great amount of humidity, for in the damp
climates of the Himalaya it is entirely wanting, except in the deepest
valleys; and even in the drier districts it is always observed to select the
sunnier, and therefore warmer exposures. Its upper limit is usually about
7000 feet above the level of the sea, though on Jako at Simla a few stunted
trees rise as high as 7700 feet.

Pinus excelsa is also a very common species at Simla, particularly on the
southern face of Mount Jako, which is the highest part of the ridge. Abies
Smithiana, the third coniferous tree, is exceedingly rare, a few trees only
occurring in a shady ravine facing the west; while the deodar, the fourth
species, is common on the southern and western slopes of Jako, above 7000
feet; and again in shady groves at the bottom of the valleys on both sides of
the ridge, as low as 5000 feet. This beautiful tree, the cedar of the Indian
mountains, seems limited to the western half of the Himalayan range,
extending from the most westerly part of Nipal, as far as the mountains of
Affghanistan. It was first described by Roxburgh from specimens sent to
him from Kamaon, at a time when the western Himalaya was almost
inaccessible to Europeans, under the name by which it is known to the
inhabitants of that province, as well as in Kashmir. It is, however, singularly
enough, not known by that name in the Simla hills, where it is called Kélu;
another conifer, Cupressus torulosa, a rare tree in the district, having
usurped the name, as well as the sacred character, of deodar.
In the thick woods of Simla, a large white monkey, the Langúr of the
natives, is very common. These animals move about in large flocks, in
which may be seen individuals of all sizes and ages, and seldom remain
more than a few hours in one place. They are in constant motion, leaping
from bough to bough and from tree to tree, chattering constantly; and,
notwithstanding their great size, are in general harmless, though ready
enough to defend themselves if assailed.
The forest extends in parts close up to the peak of Jako, which has an
elevation of 8130 feet. The very summit, however, which is a short flat
ridge, and a considerable part of the east and south face, are bare and
grassy, or covered with scattered shrubs. The more common shrubby forms
of the vegetation of the temperate zone, are Salix, Rosa, Rubus, Lonicera,
Viburnum, Berberis, Indigofera, and Prinsepia, all, except the two last,
quite European. Indigofera forms a remarkable exception, and one well
worthy of note, as the genus is a very tropical one, although its shrubby
species are particularly abundant throughout the whole of the western
Himalaya. These shrubby species, however, constitute a particular section
of the genus, very distinct in habit, and in the large size and bright colour of
the flower, from the more ordinary forms, and they are confined to the drier
parts of the mountains, being quite wanting in the humid climate of

Darjeeling and Khasya, and almost entirely so in the mountains of the
Peninsula.
The herbaceous vegetation of the spring months quite
VEGETATION OF corresponds, in the temperate nature of its forms, with
THE SPRING
MONTHS. what has been found to be the case with the trees and
May, 1847. shrubs; but during the rainy season, as has been well
pointed out by Dr. Royle in his valuable essay on the
distribution of Himalayan plants, this is much less markedly the case. At the
commencement of spring, in April (for March is still too cold for much
vegetation), the weather being generally bright, though with occasional
heavy showers, the earliest flowers are species of Viola, Fragaria,
Geranium, Veronica, Valeriana, and dandelion. From April, as summer
advances, the temperature gradually rises, till towards the end of June,
when the rainy season commences. These months are generally dry, and if
no rain falls the heat is sometimes considerable, the thermometer rising as
high as 80° in the shade. Still the flora is almost entirely temperate, the
early spring plants being succeeded by many others of European families,
principally Ranunculaceæ, Rosaceæ, Labiatæ, Stellatæ, Polygonaceæ,
Epilobiaceæ, Primulaceæ, etc. I can scarcely enumerate a single spring
flowering plant which does not belong to an European family, unless Arum
be an exception, which it can hardly be considered, the flowers only being
displayed during May and June, while the leaves do not make their
appearance until after the rainy season has commenced. Few species are,
however, identical with those of Europe, except Stellaria media, Cerastium
vulgatum, Taraxacum officinale, Verbascum Thapsus, Thymus Serpyllum,
and Poa annua.
The rainy season generally commences about the 20th
FLORA OF RAINY of June, or between that date and the end of the month,
SEASON.
July, 1847. and continues till the middle or end of September, with
occasional intermissions, rarely exceeding a week at a
PEAK OF JAKO. time. During the rains the atmosphere is exceedingly
July, 1847. moist, dense fogs usually prevailing when rain does not
fall. The rain-fall is probably more considerable at
Simla than in the lower ranges, which are nearer the plains, for it has been
observed that ranges of 7-8000 feet (which are generally for this reason
well wooded), attract much moisture, and the peak of Jako and other parts

of Simla are frequently observed from the stations of Sabathu and
Kussowlee, to be covered with dense clouds or mist, at times when at the
latter places the weather is bright and clear.
The commencement of the rainy season is the signal in the mountains, as it
is very universally throughout India, wherever that season is well marked,
for the appearance of a very vigorous and luxuriant growth of plants of
annual growth, the seeds (or rootstocks) of which had been lying dormant in
the soil awaiting the access of heavy rain. At Simla, as elsewhere in the
temperate region of the Himalaya, we find at this season numerous species
of Balsams, Acanthaceæ, Orchideæ, and Labiatæ, several Gentians and
Cichoraceæ, a great many grasses and Cyperaceæ, and species of
Parnassia, Drosera, Pedicularis, Roscoea, Dipsacus, Thalictrum, Urtica,
etc., etc. Some of these are quite European genera, while others, as
Roscoea, are interesting as belonging to orders whose maxima occur in very
humid climates. The Labiatæ of the rainy season are mostly species of
Plectranthus and Elsholtzia, both quite Indian genera, and very extensively
distributed in mountainous districts. Balsams are quite an Indian order, and
they seem everywhere, as has already been remarked by Dr. Royle and by
Dr. Wight, to abound in humid shady places, either in dense forest or on the
stony banks of mountain streams, in the drier districts only during the rainy
season, but in more humid countries more or less throughout the year. The
Orchideæ of Simla are entirely terrestrial, the dryness and cold of the winter
months being greater than are compatible with the occurrence of epiphytical
species of this natural order, and for the same reason, I presume,
Melastomaceæ, so abundant in the Eastern Himalaya, are quite wanting.
Among the many advantages of situation by which Simla is characterized,
one of the most fortunate is its position on a part of the mountain range
which lies transversely to the ordinary direction of the chain, so that the
view towards the plains of India, as well as up the Sutlej valley, is very
much more extensive than would be obtained, had the station been situated
in a less favourable position. This advantage is further enhanced by the
sudden rise in elevation of the chain, which enables a resident at Simla to
overlook in the direction of the plains the continuation of the range which
would otherwise obstruct the view. Towards the interior of the mountains,
this advantage is not possessed by Simla; for the ridge of Mahasu, which
rises 1000 feet higher than the peak of Jako, obscures at least half of the

snowy range, the view being limited in that direction to the course of the
valley of the Sutlej, and to the mountains north of that river.
With all these advantages of situation, the view from
VIEW FROM THE the peak of Jako is one of the most agreeable and
PEAK OF JAKO.
July, 1847. diversified, which occur in any part of the Himalaya;
although, from the rather too level top of the mountain,
and the intrusion of the forest almost to the very summit, the whole
panorama cannot be embraced at once. Immediately under the eye are the
numerous spurs and ridges covered with scattered houses, and the deep
ravines which terminate the steep slopes below the station; towards the
plains, the whole valley of the Gambar is seen, with the stations of Sabathu
and Kussowlee, the church and esplanade of the former appearing low
down almost within a stone's throw, while the brilliant white of the houses
of Kussowlee, more nearly on a level with the eye, sparkle in the sunbeams.
The ridge of Kussowlee in one place excludes the view of the plains, but to
the right they may be seen stretching away in the distance, and only
recognizable at last by the track of the Sutlej river, which, from the very
remarkable curve close to its exit from the mountains, may be traced as far
as vision can extend, a distance of 116 miles[2]. To the north a valley
stretches from Simla as far as the Sutlej river, distant about fifteen miles, so
direct that the greater part of it is seen, though the river itself is concealed.
East of north a long partially wooded ridge, about four miles distant at its
nearest point, running parallel to the valley just mentioned, excludes the
view of the nearer part of the Sutlej valley; but the lofty ranges north of that
river, covered with dense forest, and backed by masses of brilliant snow,
close in the view in that direction. Due east lies the Mahasu ridge, covered
on the Simla slopes with a dense forest of deodar; and to the south, across
the valley of the Giri, towards which numerous rugged ridges run, is the
mountain called the Chor, the highest peak of the range which separates the
Giri from the Tons, the crest of which is upwards of 12,000 feet in height.
From the peak of Jako, the serpentine course of the range, which prevails
universally throughout the Himalaya, may be well traced, as the eye of the
spectator, following the direct course of the ridge, can observe numerous
turns in its course, each of which, from the great foreshortening, appears
much more abrupt than it really is. At each curve the range rises into a peak,
while the intermediate portions are lower and excavated into "cols" or

passes. In the concavity of each bend of the range is situated the head of a
valley, numerous small spurs dividing the different ravines which unite to
form it; while on the convex side, from the high portion of the ridge, is
given off a branch of the range, forming a separation between two adjacent
valleys, each of which occupies a concavity in the main range of mountain.
On my arrival at Simla on the 25th of May, I found that Major A.
Cunningham, of the Bengal Engineers, and Captain Henry Strachey, of the
66th Regiment N.I., were to be my fellow-travellers, the former having
been appointed the head of the mission. As Captain Strachey had to travel
from Dinapore, it was evident that some time would elapse before he would
arrive at Simla, nor was it till the beginning of August that the completion
of the necessary preliminaries rendered it possible for us to commence our
journey. I took advantage of this delay to make myself as far as possible
acquainted with the physical features and vegetation of the surrounding
country, though the necessary preparations for the approaching journey
occupied a good deal of time, and the commencement of the rainy season
rendered travelling difficult, and even out-of-door exercise unpleasant. I
have already attempted to convey an idea of the general physical aspect of
the scenery, which, after a short residence has made one familiar with the
structure of the ridges, appears very simple. Situated on the dividing range,
by which the waters of the Giri, a tributary of the Jumna, on the left, are
separated from those of the tributaries of the Sutlej on the right, the
spectator looks into two of the immense basins into which the Himalaya is
divided by transverse ranges running parallel to the great rivers; and after a
short time he finds that the chaos of mountains, which at first perplexed the
eye and confused the mind, gradually resolves itself into a definite shape,
each ridge being capable of being referred to its parent, and that in its turn
to a branch of the main chain. From his commanding position he can also
see that the main range is generally more elevated than its branches, and
that each chain, by a succession of sudden sinkings, diminishes in elevation,
each peak being lower than its predecessor. Nowhere in the wide tract of
country visible is there the least approach to a system of parallel ridges,
such as is indicated by the distant view of these mountains. On the contrary,
it is seen that the great ranges are, though very irregularly, perpendicular to
the general direction of the mountain mass, and that it is only the shorter
spurs which have a general uniformity of direction.

Nor could I find in the structure of the mountains
STRUCTURE OF around Simla any confirmation of the view entertained
THE MOUNTAIN
RANGES. by Humboldt of the sudden elevation of the Himalaya
July, 1847. out of a vast fissure in the external crust of the earth.
However plausible such a view might appear when the
Himalaya is contemplated as a whole (on a map), without any portion of its
extent being under the eye, I found it, on the spot, quite impossible to
conceive in what way, after such a sudden elevation, any power in the least
analogous to existing forces could have excavated out of the solid rock
those numerous valleys, so various in direction, so rugged in outline, and so
vast in dimensions, which now furrow the mountain mass.
On the contrary, the conclusion has been forced upon me that these
mountains have emerged extremely gradually from an ocean, of the
existence of which, at very various levels, the most evident traces are, I
think, discoverable. The present configuration of the surface must, I do not
doubt, have been given to it during periods of rest, or of very slow
elevation, the action of the sea upon submerged rocks being so very
superficial that no denudation takes place at any great depth. During the
period of emergence of the Himalaya, from the great length of the present
valleys, which extend between parallel ranges far into the interior, the coast
must have borne a strong resemblance to that of Norway at the present day,
numerous promontories projecting far into the sea, and separated from one
another by narrow and deep bays.
The geological structure of the Himalaya between
GEOLOGY. Simla and the plains is not easily discovered by the
cursory observer. The general basis of the mountains is
clay-slate, occasionally very micaceous, passing into a coarse sandstone,
but here and there limestone occurs interstratified. The dip is extremely
variable, and the rocks, whatever their age, are evidently highly
metamorphosed. The tertiary formations, so well illustrated by Falconer and
Cautley, extend all along the base of the mountains, and penetrate in some
places far into the valleys, for certain rocks in the neighbourhood of
Sabathu have been indicated by Major Vicary, which appear to be of the
same age, or perhaps of a still older tertiary epoch.

CHAPTER II.
Leave Simla—Mahasu Ridge—Pine Forest—Summit of Mahasu—Vegetation of Northern Slope—
Fagu—Theog—Mattiana—Cultivated Valley—Nagkanda—Ascent of Hattu—Forest of Pine and
Oak—Vegetation of Summit—View from top of Mountain—Plainward slopes bare of forest, while
those facing the interior are well wooded—Cultivation at 9500 feet—Descent from Nagkanda
towards Sutlej—Damp shady Ravine densely wooded—Kotgarh—Cultivation—Rapid Descent—
Change of Climate—Tropical Vegetation—Rampur—Swing-bridge—Diurnal fluctuations in level
of River—Gaora—Serahan—Tranda—Western boundary of Kunawar.

On the 2nd of August, 1847, every necessary preparation having been
completed, and the officers of the mission having received the instructions
of the Governor-General to proceed to Ladakh, and thence to take severally
such direction as they should consider most conducive to the increase of our
knowledge of these countries, Major Cunningham, Captain Strachey, and
myself left Simla.
The route selected as most eligible, in order to reach
DEPARTURE FROM Hangarang and Piti, to which we had been instructed in
SIMLA.
August, 1847. the first place to proceed, lay up the course of the Sutlej
river, through Kunawar. The advanced period of the
season, at which almost constant rain might be expected, rendered the river
route, on which at most stages tolerable shelter is obtainable, preferable to
that by the Pabar valley, and the Bruang (or Borendo) pass, which otherwise
we should have preferred, from its passing through a more elevated tract of
country.
From Simla the first day's journey towards the interior of the mountains is
usually to Fagu, a distance of fourteen miles. Here, and for several stages
farther, as far as the road lies through British territory, there are houses
(bungalows, as they are termed in India) provided by Government for the
accommodation of travellers, upon the payment of a small fixed sum per
diem. Though often in bad repair, and therefore very uncomfortable in rainy
weather, these houses (which occur also between Simla and the plains) are a
very great convenience, as they enable tourists to dispense with the carriage
of tents.
The difficulty of making a start, from the small number of porters
procurable for our baggage, was so great that it was some time after dark

before I reached the Fagu bungalow, in the midst of an extremely heavy fall
of rain, which had commenced about sunset, after a fair though lowering
day. The road from Simla to Fagu follows throughout the course of the main
range, not always on the very crest of the ridge, but seldom at any great
distance from it. After passing round the peak of Jako, it turns northward,
and descends abruptly about 500 feet, to a low part of the ridge, elevated
about 6800 feet, and quite bare of trees, the micaceous slaty rock being in
many places exposed. The ridge continues in a direction for nearly four
miles, varying very little in level, only one short and rather steep ascent
occurring to a peak where a spur branches off to the south, beyond which
the road again slightly descends. About half-a-mile to the north of this little
ridge, on the slope of the hill below the road, there is a small cluster of trees
of Cupressus torulosa, a species of cypress, one of the rarer conifers of the
Himalaya; the most favourite situation of which seems to be on very steep
mountains in the interior, at elevations of from seven to nine thousand feet.
It was found abundantly by Major Madden[3] on Shali, a peak twenty miles
east of Simla, and it appears to extend thence west as far as Simla, where it
occurs in several places on hot, dry, and very bare rocky hills, as low as six
thousand feet.
About four miles from Simla, a sudden increase in the elevation of the
range takes place, and at the same time it turns abruptly towards the south-
east. The road ascends the steep face of the ridge, in a series of zigzags,
rather steeply, with a deep ravine on either hand, that to the right bare, while
on the left there is first a thicket of rose and willow bushes, and further on
an oak-wood, of a species (Quercus floribunda of Wallich) different from
that common at Simla, and indicative of greater elevation, though here
growing with Rhododendron and Andromeda, common Simla trees. When
near the top of the ascent, the road bends rapidly to the right, keeping on the
south face of the ridge, and passing under but close to a small house, built
on the very crest of the ridge, at an elevation of about 8000 feet. Close to
this bungalow, which occupies a most excellent site, forest commences, and
the road runs for a mile through fine trees of deodar and spruce (Abies
Smithiana), generally on the very crest of the ridge, looking down towards
the east into a deep and broad valley. Right across this valley, north-east,
rises the remarkable peak of Shali, a bold rocky mass sloping gently to the
south, while to the north, which seems to overhang the Sutlej valley, it is cut

off very abruptly. This highly beautiful mountain, the termination of a
northerly spur, given off close to Mattiana, is hardly visible from Simla, its
top only being seen from some of the more northerly houses.
From an elevation of about 8000 feet at its north-west
MAHASU RIDGE. end, the Mahasu ridge rises, at first gradually, to at least
August, 1847.
9000 feet, and as it is throughout well wooded, the road
along it is extremely beautiful. On the earlier part of the ridge, the forest
consists chiefly of pine, P. excelsa and Abies Smithiana being abundant, and
more especially the deodar, which, on the slope facing the west, may be
seen in the greatest profusion, thousands of young trees springing up in
dense masses, on the slopes which have been bared by the axe, or still more
destructively by the fires of the hill-men.
After about five miles of what, in the Himalaya, may be called tolerably
level road, another sudden ascent follows, the road inclining rather to the
northern slope of the mountain, and entering a dense forest of large massive
pines, intermixed with two species of sycamore, and a fine cherry, which
relieve the otherwise too gloomy foliage of the coniferous trees. A
magnificent climbing vine, which attaches itself to the tallest trees, rising in
light green coils round their trunks, and falling in graceful festoons from the
branches high over head, adds much to the elegance of the scene, and
renders it, in the expressive words of Griffith, who was familiar with the
rich vegetation of the humid forests of the Eastern Himalaya, the only true
Himalayan forest of the western mountains.
On this ascent the road rises to about 9000 feet, the
SUMMIT OF crest of the Mahasu ridge being, according to Captain
MAHASU.
August, 1847. Herbert, 9200 feet. The large size and dense shade of
the trees, and the abundance of Abies Smithiana, of the
sycamore, and of the gigantic vine, give the forest a totally different
appearance from that of Simla, and the undergrowth presents also a
considerable amount of novelty; a species of currant, a fine Spiræa,
Indigofera atropurpurea, and fine species of Rosa and Rubus, forming
thickets under the tall trees. This forest, indeed, from its dense shade, and
great humidity, exhibits a much greater contrast to the ordinary temperate
vegetation of the Himalaya, than is usually observed below 9000 feet, at

which elevation the upper temperate, or subalpine vegetation, begins fairly
to predominate over that which is prevalent from 5000 to 9000 feet.
On reaching the summit of the steep ascent, the road again gains the crest of
the ridge, which consists of a succession of rounded knolls, covered with
grass, and quite bare of trees, the forest rising almost, but not quite, to the
top. On the very summit of one of the first of these knolls, is a small
wooden shrine or temple, of a form common in the hills; the top of a
mountain, or the summit of any very steep ascent, being usually selected as
a proper spot for the erection of a sacred building by Indian mountaineers,
in whose superstition every hill and grove is tenanted by supernatural
beings.
The steep ascent on the northern shoulder of Mahasu,
POTATO from 8000 feet, and even lower, to above 9000 feet, is
CULTIVATION.
August, 1847. the great seat of the potato cultivation in the
neighbourhood of Simla. The steepest slopes seem to be
preferred for this purpose, if they have only a sufficiency of soil, which is
very light, loose, and stony. The undergrowth of shrubs is cleared away
entirely on the spot where potatoes are planted, but the pine forest is only
partially thinned, the tall straight trunks allowing of a free circulation of air
below, while the thick branches above afford the amount of shade requisite
for the crop. The potatoes are planted in rows in May; and, early in June,
when the plants have attained a height of a few inches, the soil is earthed up
round their stems in low ridges. The rains commence in the latter part of
June, and during their continuance nothing is done to the crop, beyond
keeping it clear of weeds. The steepness of the slope seems to afford a
sufficient drainage to prevent any injury from the great rain-fall and
constant humidity. The growth of the plants is exceedingly luxuriant, the
foliage being tall and bushy. By the middle of October, or after the close of
the rains, the potatoes are dug and ready for market, supplying not only the
station of Simla, but being despatched in great quantities to the plains of
India, where the potato is only cultivated as a winter crop, and where,
therefore, during the cold months, none are otherwise procurable.
On the very summit of the Mahasu ridge, there are a few trees of Quercus
semicarpifolia, the alpine oak of the western Himalaya, an European-
looking and partially deciduous species, and of Picea Webbiana, or

Pindrow, the silver fir of the Indian mountains, a dark sombre-looking pine,
abundant in the forests of the interior. These trees may be adopted as the
characteristics of the subalpine zone, in every part of which, from 9000 to
about 12,000 feet, which is the highest limit of tree vegetation in the
Western Himalaya, they abound. On Mahasu they are entirely confined to
the crest of the ridge, and form no part of the forest below.
The descent from the top of Mahasu to the Fagu
FAGU. bungalow, is at first abrupt, the road leaving the ridge to
August, 1847.
enter the forest on the northern face, and winding down,
after a few hundred yards of bare stony slope, among dense forest, among
which it continues for a couple of miles, rising at last rather steeply to the
crest of the ridge at the point where it resumes a northerly direction. Here
the bungalow of Fagu has been built, at an elevation of 8200 feet, at the
very base of the steep mountain ridge behind, which rises abruptly, to a
height of six or seven hundred feet. The bungalow faces the north-east, and
commands a most superb view of the snowy range beyond the Sutlej, with
occasional glimpses of the Jumno-Gangetic snows on the right hand.
On my arrival at Fagu, in the midst of a pelting fall of rain, I found the
bungalow already occupied by my fellow-travellers, and before a bright and
comfortable fire I soon forgot the discomfort of my wet ride, which indeed
was not to be complained of, as it was only what might fairly have been
expected in the middle of the rainy season. The confusion among our
baggage, however, was so great, from its arriving irregularly and being set
down hurriedly by the drenched porters, anxious to escape as soon as
possible to shelter, that it was not without difficulty I procured the
necessary change of clothing.
The morning of the 3rd of August was densely foggy, but without rain, and
it was unanimously decided that it would be advisable to push on to the
next stage, Mattiana, a distance of fifteen miles. Our anticipations of fair
weather were unfortunately disappointed, for it began to rain heavily before
ten o'clock, and continued to do so with little intermission till nearly two,
when it cleared, and the remainder of the day was fine.
The whole day's journey lay along the ridge, which
GIRI VALLEY. scarcely fell below 7500 feet, and nowhere rose above
August, 1847.

9000 feet. Fagu is situated immediately above the valley of the river Giri, a
large mountain stream, the most western tributary of the Jumna. A road
across the Jumnetic valleys to Massuri descends abruptly towards that river,
descending more than 5000 feet in little more than five miles, and crossing
the river by a bridge at an elevation of 3000 feet. The mountains to the
right, which dip into the valley of the Giri, are bare of forest, with a good
deal of cultivation in small terraced fields on the steep sunny slopes, while
scattered houses, scarcely collected into villages, are seen here and there
among the fields. On the left hand, again, the deep valley which runs
towards the Sutlej is full of forest, not rising however to the ridge, which is
bare, or lined only with scattered jungle of Indigofera, Desmodium, Spiræa,
roses, and brambles. It seems to be a constant rule that the depressions of
the ridges are bare and open, while the more elevated portions are covered
with forest. Probably the cause of this is the greater humidity of the higher
slopes, which attract the rain-clouds, while the lower ranges are dry. The
currents of air which sweep up the valleys may also in part be the cause of
the bareness of the ridges opposite their summits.
At Theog, nearly eight miles from Fagu, there is a fort
THEOG. belonging to a Rana, or hill chieftain, and a small
August, 1847.
village, with a good many fields. The cultivation at this
great elevation, for the fields reach to at least 8000 feet, is principally of
barley, which is sown in early spring, and reaped in the beginning or middle
of June, according to the season. Beyond Theog the road rises a little, and is
covered with brushwood on the left hand, but bare on the right. The highest
part of the road is about two miles beyond Theog, and has an elevation of
about 9000 feet. The northern face of this hill is prettily wooded with the
holly-leaved oak, and covered with numerous large angular boulders, whose
origin is rather difficult to explain. After passing this little hill the ridge
sweeps round to the left in a semicircle, ascending very gradually and
gently to a low ridge, from the crest of which the bungalow of Mattiana
comes into sight, at a distance of nearly two miles, the whole of which is a
gentle descent. The latter part of the road has a direction nearly due north,
and the bungalow is situated in a very commanding position on the top of a
little eminence, a quarter of a mile from the village, which occupies the
slope of the hill facing the south-east, at a considerably lower level. The
hills on both sides of the bungalow, which has an elevation of 8200 feet, are

extremely steep, and descend at least 2000 feet. The valley on the left,
tributary to the Sutlej, is well wooded, but that on the right is rather bare,
with only a little wood here and there in the ravines, and on the more shady
exposures.
The slopes below Mattiana are covered with numerous
MATTIANA. scattered houses and a good deal of cultivation. A little
August, 1847.
rice is grown during the rains, but the principal crops
are barley and some wheat, sown in spring and reaped before the
commencement of the rains. The opium poppy, also a spring crop, is
cultivated to some extent in the lower part of the valley. It is sown in early
spring, and the opium is gathered in June.
On the morning of the 4th of August we resumed our journey, proceeding as
far as Nagkanda, about thirteen miles. Nagkanda, like Mattiana and Fagu,
lies exactly on the crest of the main range, south of the Sutlej, and it is
possible to proceed to it by a footpath along the ridge. The ascent, however,
immediately north of Mattiana, where the ridge rises suddenly to nearly
10,000 feet, is so steep, rocky, and difficult, that it is quite impassable for
horses, and so nearly for loaded men, that a more easy, though somewhat
longer road is always preferred. I have more than once walked from
Nagkanda to Mattiana by the upper road, and found it quite easy on foot,
and so very beautiful as to be well worth a visit. The ascent from Mattiana
is exceedingly steep, and facing nearly due south, very bare, stony, and
barren; but when the higher portion of the ridge has been gained, the
remainder of the road lies through beautiful forest, with much fine scenery
—the earlier part steep and rocky, the remainder nearly level, till the last
descent, and generally on the north face of the range.
On our present journey, however, we took the usual
VALLEY BEFORE road, which descends from Mattiana to the valley
MATTIANA.
August, 1847. immediately on the east, crosses it, and passes over a
long spur on its eastern side, into another valley, the
head of which is immediately below Nagkanda, to which place the road
ascends, at last very steeply. The ravine immediately below Mattiana is
crossed at an elevation probably a little above 6000 feet, as the trees of the
temperate region, such as the holly-leaved and woolly oak, Andromeda, and
Rhododendron, continue to the very bottom of the descent; and Pinus

excelsa is common on the eastern slope, a little way above the stream,
which descends very abruptly, like all the hill torrents near their sources,
along a rocky channel, filled with large boulders. On the banks of the little
stream there were a few trees of an Acacia, common in the lower forests,
which Mr. Bentham considers a hairy variety of the Albizzia Julibrissin of
western Asia. I observed also a Laurel, an Olive, Rhus, and the common
Toon (Cedrela Toona), all indicative of the commencement of a subtropical
vegetation, which no doubt must be abundant on its banks a very few miles
further down. Few of the plants observed in the valley were different from
those common around Simla; a species of Caragana, a Leguminous genus
abundant in Siberia, and in the interior and more dry parts of the Himalaya,
was perhaps the most interesting.
The ascent from the ravine was well wooded in its lower part with oak and
pine. A few trees of a very handsome poplar (P. ciliata), a tall widely-
branching large-leaved tree, occurred in its lower part, as did also
Benthamia fragifera, and a yew, apparently undistinguishable from the
common European species. The upper part of the ascent was bare and
grassy. The spur is a steep one, descending rapidly from the main range, and
the road winding round its shoulder does not ascend beyond 7000 feet, but
as soon as it has gained the eastern face continues nearly level, gradually
approaching the centre of the valley, and winding along the hill-sides
among numerous villages. The slopes are generally bare; here and there in
the hollows or recesses along the lateral streamlets there is some very fine
forest.
The appearance of this valley is considerably different
CULTIVATED from that of any of those nearer to the plains. The
VALLEY.
August, 1847. population is considerable, and collected into villages,
some of which occupy the lower part of the valley, and
are surrounded by a good deal of cultivation and numerous walnut and
apricot trees, the latter of which are said, in autumn, frequently to tempt the
bears from the forest, to indulge in what to them is a grateful feast. The
ripening of the apricot in a valley, among forest, at an elevation of 7000
feet, indicates an undoubted diminution of the rain-fall. Very little change,
however, is observable in the wild vegetation till the upper part of the last
steep ascent, when a number of species make their appearance which are
strangers to the more external ranges. A species of hazel, as a tree, and

Lappa, Achillea, Leonurus, Cheiranthus, and Rumex acetosa, as herbaceous
plants, may be mentioned as instances, as also a lax-paniculate Polygonum,
with elegant panicles of white honey-scented flowers.
Nagkanda bungalow, elevated 9300 feet above the level
NAGKANDA. of the sea, is situated on a depression of the main range,
August, 1847.
where it has a direction from west to east. The ridge to
the west, towards Mattiana, is elevated little more than 10,000 feet, while to
the east rises the peak of Hattu to a height of 10,674 feet, by the
determination of the trigonometrical survey. Here the range has approached
nearer to the Sutlej, now distant only about twelve miles, than at any point
since leaving Simla. The valley of the Sutlej being only 3000 feet above the
level of the sea, while the mountains directly opposite rise to 12,000 feet,
the scenery is of the grandest description. The river itself is nowhere visible,
the descent being so abrupt at the bottom that the intervening spurs entirely
conceal it.
The northern slope of the ridge on which Nagkanda stands, is occupied by a
very deep valley, bounded by two long spurs, which run towards the Sutlej.
The whole of this valley is occupied by dense forest, a great part of which is
pine, especially on the upper part of the deep receding bay which runs up
nearly to the top of Hattu, the sides of which are covered with a dense
sombre forest of Picea Webbiana (Pindrow).
On the 5th of August, a portion of our baggage, which
ASCENT OF had been left at Fagu two days before, from a
HATTU.
August, 1847. deficiency of porters, not having arrived at Nagkanda, it
became necessary to halt, in order to give it a chance of
reaching us. The day was fortunately fine, and we availed ourselves of the
opportunity to ascend Hattu, Captain Strachey taking with him his
barometers, to verify their accuracy by the trigonometrically determined
height of this mountain, which was one of the stations of the Himalayan
survey by Captain Herbert. As the top of the mountain is only about 1500
feet above the Nagkanda bungalow, and the distance is nearly five miles,
the ascent is an easy one. The first mile is nearly level, and bare of wood on
the ridge, though the forest on both sides rises within a few feet of the crest,
which is bordered by brushwood. As soon as the ascent commences, the
ridge becomes covered with forest, at first principally pine, spruce and

silver fir (Picea) being the principal species. Yew is also very common,
forming a fine tall tree, and the few non-coniferous trees are chiefly the
alpine oak, sycamore, and cherry. The road, which at first ascends a western
spur, by degrees winds round to the face of the mountain, and finally
ascends to the summit from the east. The wood on the upper part is entirely
oak, and more open than the pine forest lower down. The top of the
mountain is steep and bare towards the east, for about five hundred feet,
with precipitous rocks thirty or forty feet high towards the west, below
which the slope is exceedingly steep and rocky in that direction.
The continuation of the main range towards the east is at first lower than the
peak of Hattu some 600 or 700 feet, but rises again to another peak within a
mile. A long spur or ridge to the south-west is, however, for nearly two
miles, within a few feet of the same height as the summit of Hattu, and rises
at about that distance into a point, which probably rather exceeds it. It then
sinks rapidly towards the Giri river, the most easterly branch of which has
its source in the ravine on the eastern face.
On the top of Hattu there are the remains of a square
TOP OF HATTU. building, with very thick walls, I believe of native
August, 1847.
origin, and intended as a sort of fort, which, however,
from the want of water, must have been quite untenable. It is now in ruins,
its interior being filled with a wilderness of hemp, nettles, Galium Aparine,
dock and other coarse plants. The grassy slopes of the summit are covered
with a luxuriant herbage of Potentillæ, Labiatæ, Gentianaceæ, Epilobium,
Polygonum, and Anemone, while a few stunted bushes of Quercus
semicarpifolia, a simple-leaved Pyrus, and a willow, are the only shrubby
vegetation. The forest, however, rises close to the base of the cliffs on the
western face, and contains all the species common on the ascent of the
mountain, the vegetation of the summit being in no respect peculiar, not
even in early spring exhibiting any truly alpine plant. The mountain
bamboo, a graceful small species of Arundinaria, which is extremely
abundant in the woods of the upper temperate and subalpine zones, adorns
the rocky hollows close to the summit.
In every direction except south, and along the ridge to
VIEW FROM the east, the view from the top of Hattu is very
HATTU.
August, 1847. extensive, as it overlooks all the peaks in the immediate

vicinity. To the north the mountains of Kulu, which separate the valley of
the Sutlej from that of the Beas, and from the upper Chenab, are most
beautifully seen, their peaks rising above one another from west to east, till
they enter the region of perpetual snow. Towards the plains, in clear
weather, the view must be superb; but in that direction there is so generally
a hazy state of the atmosphere, that though I have ascended Hattu four
times, I have never been fortunate enough to obtain a favourable day.
In looking back from the summit of Hattu towards Simla and the plains, it
may be observed that the country is well wooded, though when viewed
from Simla or the heights of Mahasu the same mountains had appeared
almost bare. This diversity in the aspect of the country, according to the
direction from which it is seen, is due to the ridges being well wooded on
one face, and bare of trees on the other. The plainward face is never, except
under very exceptional circumstances, at all wooded, while the northern and
eastern slopes are generally covered with forest. Probably the more direct
influence of the sun, and the action of the strong winds which generally
blow up the valleys towards the interior of the mountains, act in
concurrence in drying the atmosphere, and checking the growth of trees on
the southern and western faces of the ridges.
The shrubby and herbaceous vegetation of Hattu is exceedingly luxuriant.
The more open glades of the forest are filled with an undergrowth of tall
balsams, annual-stemmed Acanthaceæ, Dipsacus, Compositæ (among
which the beautiful Calimeris is very abundant), while in the drier pine-
forest a graceful little bamboo occurs, often to the exclusion of every other
plant. It grows in dense tufts, eight or ten or even twelve feet high, the
diameter of the stem not exceeding a quarter of an inch. The currant of the
Mahasu ridge is also common, with many of the same shrubs which are
there abundant. The ridge close to Nagkanda is much drier, and has fewer
peculiar plants; the resemblance to the Simla flora being there very
remarkable.
On the southern slopes of this ridge, at elevations equal
CULTIVATION. to that of Nagkanda bungalow, and even higher, in
August, 1847.
some places as high as 9500 feet, there are considerable
patches of cultivation. Barley is probably the spring crop, but during the
rains a good deal of buckwheat is cultivated. This plant will not thrive in the

very humid regions, and is therefore indicative of a drier climate than that
of Simla; indeed, even the occurrence of cultivation at such an elevation,
during the rainy season, satisfactorily proves the existence of a more
moderate rain-fall and greater warmth than on the peaks nearer the plains,
as for instance on the Mahasu ridge, on which, except the potato, no
cultivation whatever is attempted during the rains, though there are a few
fields of wheat or barley in one spot as high as 8000 feet.
Our missing loads having arrived at Nagkanda on the
DESCENT evening of the 5th of August, we resumed our journey
TOWARDS THE
SUTLEJ. on the morning of the 6th, marching to Kotgarh, ten
August, 1847. miles. At Nagkanda we finally left the main range, and
began to descend towards the valley of the Sutlej,
SHADY RAVINE. following, at the commencement of our journey, a spur
August, 1847. which runs from immediately west of the bungalow
directly towards the river. After about four miles we
quitted this spur to descend into the valley on the right, after crossing which
we ascended to Kotgarh, situated on a long spur descending from the peak
of Hattu. The early part of the descent was very abrupt, through a forest of
large pines, principally P. excelsa and spruce (Abies Smithiana). Some trees
of the latter measured upwards of seventeen feet in circumference.
Sycamore and cherry were also common in the forest, and a good many
trees of Corylus lacera, the hazel of the north-west Himalaya, were
observed. The trees were festooned with the gigantic vine already noticed in
the Mahasu forest. After the first two hundred feet of descent, the forest was
less dense, and chiefly pine. Rhododendron arboreum commenced about
1000 feet below Nagkanda, and was soon followed by the holly-leaved oak,
and a little lower by Q. incana, the common hoary oak of Simla; and by the
time we had got down to 7000 feet, the vegetation was quite similar to that
of Simla. At a little below this elevation, the road leaves the crest of the
ridge, which may be seen to continue in a northerly direction, partly bare
and partly pine-clad, and descends rapidly to the bottom of the deep ravine
on the right. Soon after leaving the ridge we entered thick forest, and at the
bottom of the ravine two considerable streams are crossed within a very
short distance of one another, at an elevation of about 5500 feet, the lowest
level to which we descended during the day's journey. Along the banks of
these streams, which have a considerable inclination of bed, the forest is

very dense and shady. Few of the trees are coniferous, nor do oaks in this
part of the Himalaya select such moist localities. Lauraceæ of several kinds,
the horse-chesnut, alder, and hornbeam (Carpinus viminea), with Toon and
Celtis, are the prevailing trees.
The streams which the road here crosses descend from different parts of the
ridge of Nagkanda. They occupy the bottom of deep ravines, and are in
their whole course densely wooded. These ravines are, in their upper part
especially, extremely steep and rocky, often with precipitous walls, and
scarcely practicable even on foot. The denseness of the forest is principally
due to their northern exposure, and to the consequent more equable
temperature and greater humidity. They contain many trees not previously
observed on the journey from Simla, though all of them, I believe even the
horse-chesnut, occur in the very similar steep rocky ravines below Fagu.
The alder is a common tree at 4-5000 feet in the north-western Himalaya,
always in valleys and on the banks of streams.
In this shady forest I collected a considerable number of plants which do
not occur at Simla. A scandent Hydrangea, the loosely-adhering bark of
which separates in long rolls like that of the birch, and is used as a
substitute for paper, was seen twining round the trunks of trees. I observed
also a fine Calanthe, and abundance of Adenocaulon, a remarkable genus of
Compositæ, which, till Mr. Edgeworth discovered a species in the
Himalaya, was only known as a native of South America. In the thickest
part of the forest in this ravine, I was also fortunate enough to meet with a
few specimens of Balanophora, which here probably attains its western
limit. All these plants are abundant forms in the most humid parts of Nepal
and Sikkim, and their presence may, I think, be regarded as indicative of a
more equable temperature throughout the year than prevails in the more
open parts of the Sutlej Himalaya. The range of mountains on which
Nagkanda stands certainly intercepts a great deal of moisture during the
rainy season, and therefore makes the valleys on its northern aspect less
humid at that period of the year. This would appear to be more than
counterbalanced by the effect of the dense forest in keeping up moisture and
preventing radiation during winter, for the cold and dryness of that season
seem to have a much greater effect in determining the cessation of the
forms characteristic of the eastern Himalaya, than the diminished rain-fall
during the three months of the rainy season.

After crossing the stream at the bottom of the valley,
KOTGARH. the road advances in a northerly direction, at first
August, 1847.
gradually ascending through fine shady woods, but
afterwards, turning to the right, mounting rapidly by very abrupt zigzags, up
a bare dry hill-side, to the Kotgarh ridge. Here we took up our quarters for
the night, in a house the property of Captain P. Gerard, a little above the
village of Kotgarh, at an elevation of about 7000 feet, in a fine grove of
Pinus excelsa.
Kotgarh, a large village, and the seat of an establishment of missionaries,
was at one time a military post, and is interesting to the Himalayan traveller,
from the fact of the detachment here stationed having been long
commanded by one of the brothers Gerard, whose labours in these
mountains, geographical and meteorological, are so well known. It has,
however, long been abandoned as a military station, the peaceable state of
the hill population rendering it unnecessary to keep a garrison in these
mountains.
Captain Gerard's house, in which we spent the night, is
CULTIVATION. elevated several hundred feet above the upper part of
August, 1847.
the village of Kotgarh, which occupies the steep face of
the ridge directly overlooking the valley of the Sutlej. One reach of the river
is visible from the front of the house, and the deep roar of the rapid stream
was distinctly audible, notwithstanding that we were still 4000 feet above it.
On the morning of the 7th of August we resumed our journey, descending
abruptly through the village of Kotgarh to the Sutlej. At first the pine-forest
which surrounded our night quarters, accompanied us down the steep hill-
side. It was intermixed with a few scattered deodars; and the shrubby and
herbaceous vegetation was in all its features identical with that of Simla.
Soon, however, the descent was on a bare hill-side, and after reaching the
village, the road, inclining to the right or east, kept nearly level for about a
mile, passing through much cultivation, in terraced fields on the slopes. The
crops were Kodon (Eleusine Coracana) and a cylindrical-headed Panicum,
both grains commonly cultivated in the plains of India. There were also
many fields of Amaranthus and Chenopodium. The first of these is
occasionally cultivated in all parts of the hills, its bright red inflorescence,
in autumn, tinging with flame the bare mountain slopes. The Chenopodium
was new to me as a cultivated grain, and is particularly interesting from its

analogy with the Quinoa of South America. It is entirely a rain crop, and
grows very luxuriantly, rising to a height of six or eight feet, with a
perfectly straight stout very succulent green stem, and large deltoid leaves,
either pale green or of a reddish tinge, and covered with grey mealiness.
The seeds, which are extremely small, are produced in great abundance on
all the upper part of the plant, and are ripe in September.
For about a mile after leaving the village of Kotgarh,
DESCENT TO THE the descent was trifling, but the remainder of the road to
SUTLEJ.
August, 1847. the Sutlej was very steep, so that the change in the
vegetation was sudden, commencing just at the point
where Quercus incana disappeared; before which few plants indicating heat
occurred. The want of wood, no doubt, assisted the rapidity of the change,
for the heat soon became considerable. In the course of the descent, I noted
all the new forms as they occurred; but the exact order in which each
individual species makes its appearance, depends so much upon accidental
and unimportant circumstances, and is so likely to be affected by errors of
observation, unless many series are obtained in different aspects of the same
slope, that it would lead to no advantage to enumerate the species as they
were met with. Nearly 1000 feet above the bed of the river, or at an
elevation of about 4000 feet, the vegetation had become quite subtropical,
species of Mollugo, Polanisia, Corchorus, Leucas, Euphorbia,
Microrhynchus, and the ordinary grasses and Cyperaceæ of the plains,
being the common weeds. The descent continued very abrupt, the heat
increasing rapidly, till the road reached the bank of the Sutlej, at the village
of Kepu, which occupies a flat piece of land overhanging the river.
Having commenced our day's journey before daybreak,
VALLEY OF THE in order to complete the march before the extreme heat
SUTLEJ.
August, 1847. had commenced, we stopped here to breakfast, under
the shade of a fine mango-tree. The neighbourhood of
the village was well cultivated, with extensive rice-fields and a fine grove
of tropical trees—mango, Ficus Indica and religiosa, Melia Azedarach and
Azadirachta, Grewia, oranges, and plantains. Our late residence in a cool
climate made us feel the heat much, though the temperature at nine in the
morning was not much more than 80°. After breakfast, we continued our
journey up the valley, to Nirt or Nirat, a distance of six or seven miles, and

next day we reached Rampur, the capital of Basehir, twelve miles further,
and still in the Sutlej valley.
The district of Basehir is an independent hill state, governed by a rajah,
whose dominion also extends over Kunawar; it commences a very little
north of Kotgarh, and occupies the south side of the river Sutlej and the
mountain slopes above it, as far east as the confines of Kunawar. The valley
of the Sutlej, in the western part of Basehir, from Rampur downwards, has
an elevation of little more than 3000 feet, Rampur (140 feet above the bed
of the river) being 3400 feet above the level of the sea[4]. The river, at the
season of our journey, which was the height of the rains, at which time it is
at its largest, is an impetuous torrent, of great size, but very variable in
breadth, foaming along over a stony bed, with generally very precipitous
rocky banks, and filled with large boulders. During the rainy season it is
extremely muddy, almost milky, and deposits in tranquil parts of its course a
considerable amount of white mud. The valley is generally very narrow,
with steep bare hills on either side, quite devoid of trees and covered only
with a few scattered bushes and long coarse grass. In the bays or recesses
on the mountain-sides, between the terminations of the rocky spurs which
descend to the river, the valley is often filled with a hard conglomerate rock,
the cement of which is calcareous, evidently (geologically) of very recent
origin. These patches of conglomerate are flat-topped, and often scarped
towards the river, and are frequently 200 feet and more in thickness. They
differ in degree of consolidation only from ordinary alluvial deposit, so that
they appear to owe their preservation from the denuding effects of river
action, to the calcareous matter, which has cemented the pebbles and sand
into a solid rock.
The road follows throughout the course of the river,
VEGETATION.
August, 1847.
rising sometimes 200-300 feet, to pass over rocky
spurs; at other times it lies on the surface of the boulder
conglomerate, and more rarely close to the river. Here and there is a small
village, with a few rice-fields, but the greater part of the valley is utterly
sterile. Like the valleys of the outer Himalaya, that of the Sutlej here
exhibits a curious mixture of the ordinary vegetation of the plains, with
forms which point out the mountainous nature of the country. The whole
flora is strongly characteristic of a dry soil and an arid climate. The
mountain ranges to the west and south, no doubt, intercept a good deal of

rain; and the lofty mountains, 10-12,000 feet in height, which, on the right
and left, rise rapidly from the river, appropriate to themselves a great part of
the moisture which reaches the valley. We may, therefore, in the absence of
direct meteorological observations, infer, from the physical structure of the
valley, and from the nature of its vegetation, that its climate is drier than
that of the valleys at the base of the Himalaya.
The Sutlej valley cannot, of course, be properly compared with the base of
the mountains farther east, where luxuriant forest covers all the slopes; but
when contrasted with the Pinjor valley, or the low hills above Kalka, it is
only on a careful comparison that a difference is to be observed, and then,
perhaps, more by the absence of forms abundant in them than by any
marked addition of new ones. The ordinary shrubs of the Sutlej, at 3000
feet, are Adhatoda Vasica, Carissa edulis, Colebrookea, Rottlera tinctoria,
and some species of Bœhmeria, all characteristic of the outer hills, and the
two first common plains plants. The remarkable Euphorbia pentagona is
also common. Butea, Ægle, and Moringa do not occur, nor are there any
bamboos. Flacourtia sepiaria, Capparis sepiaria, and Calotropis, which are
three of the commonest plants of the plains, were also not observed. A large
white-flowered caper (Capparis obovata, Royle) and a glabrous Zizyphus
were the most remarkable new forms. The herbaceous vegetation differed
scarcely at all from that of the plains, consisting chiefly of species which,
during the rainy season, spring up in the lightest and driest soils.
Mountain plants were only occasional, and mostly such as at Simla descend
on the dry grassy slopes into the valleys: a berberry and bramble (Rubus
flavus), Plectranthus rugosus, which is a grey and dusty-looking shrub,
Melissa umbrosa, Micromeria biflora, a little Geranium, Ajuga parviflora, a
Galium, Senecio, Aplotaxis candicans, and one or two Umbelliferæ. They
did not, however, amount to a twentieth part of the whole vegetation, and
the aspect of the flora was quite subtropical. A little Eriophorum, which is
everywhere common in arid places at the base of the Himalaya, from Assam
to the Indus, was frequent in the crevices of the rocks. Ferns were very
scarce, only two or three being observed.
The town of Rampur is a considerable place, on a small
RAMPUR. level tract of ground, about a hundred feet above the
August, 1847.
bed of the river Sutlej, which it overhangs. The houses

are substantially built, in the form of a square, with an open space in the
centre; they are mostly one-storied, and have steeply-sloping slated roofs.
The town has a good deal of trade with Tibet, principally in shawl wool,
and is the seat of a small manufacture of white soft shawl-cloths. The river
is here crossed by a rope suspension-bridge, of a kind very common in the
lower valleys, which has often been described. It consists of nine stout
ropes, which are stretched from one side of the river to the other. The width
of the Sutlej at the bridge, according to Captain Gerard, by whom it was
measured, is 211 feet.
During our stay at Rampur, Major Cunningham directed my attention to the
alteration of the level of the river at different periods of the day, from the
variable amount of solar action on the snows by which it is fed. This effect
he had noticed on his former visit to the mountains, and we had frequent
opportunities of observing it during our journey. At Rampur the diurnal
variation was not less than three or four feet, the maximum being, I believe,
during the night or early in the morning. In the immediate vicinity of snow,
the streams are highest in the afternoon, but as the distance increases the
period of greatest height becomes by degrees later and later.
Except on our two first days' journey, we had been extremely fortunate in
weather since leaving Simla. The day of the 8th was very cloudy and
oppressive, and the 9th, on which we remained stationary at Rampur to
make arrangements with the Rajah for our further progress through Basehir
and Kunawar, was rainy throughout. The rain, however, was light, and did
not prevent the Rajah from visiting us in the afternoon, impelled, I suppose,
by a desire to see our apparatus and arrangements for travelling. We were
lodged in an excellent upper-roomed house of his, overhanging the Sutlej,
and not far from his own residence, which lies at the east end of the town,
and externally is quite without beauty, presenting to view nothing but a
mass of dead walls. The Rajah seldom remains during the hot season at
Rampur, as he has a second residence at Serahan, twenty miles up the river,
and 7000 feet above the level of the sea, in which he usually spends the
summer, though during 1847, for some reason or other, he remained during
the greater part of the year at Rampur.
On the morning of the 18th of August we resumed our
ANCIENT RIVER- journey. Our direction still lay up the valley of the
CHANNEL.

August, 1847. Sutlej, and for the first three miles the road kept parallel
to the river, ascending occasionally a few hundred feet
to cross spurs, when the immediate margin of the Sutlej was too rocky and
precipitous to allow of a passage. This was not unfrequently the case, and
after a few miles the river-bank became so rugged and difficult, that the
road left it, to ascend a long ridge, descending from the mountain range to
the south. The early part of the road, from the many views of the river
rushing over its rocky bed, often among immense boulders, and from the
general boldness of the mountain scenery, was, though bare of forest, very
striking. Frequently the road overhung the river, which ran through a
narrow rocky ravine many hundred feet below. At other times, it lay over
the surface of the flat platforms which occupied the valley, and in several
places curious excavations were noticed on the rocky surface, as if the river
had formerly flowed over higher levels. One of these ancient channels was
so very remarkable, that it could not be overlooked. The rocky banks on
either side were at least a hundred feet apart, and the large water-worn
boulders, with occasional rugged pointed rocks which filled the bed,
conveyed unmistakeably the conviction that we were walking over an
ancient river-bed, though the elevation could not be less than 150 feet above
the present level of the river.
Three miles from Rampur the road began to ascend a
ASCENT TOWARDS long spur in a south-east direction. After we had
GAORA.
August, 1847. ascended a few hundred feet, the course of the river
could be seen on the left among precipitous rocks, quite
impracticable. The ascent was through a well-cultivated tract, the base of
the hill and lower slopes being covered with fields of rice, still only a few
inches high. The road ascended rapidly, through villages with numerous
fruit-trees. At first, the vegetation continued the same as in the valley, and
the hills were bare, except close to the village. Within a thousand feet of the
base, the cultivation ceased, and the road entered a wood of scattered firs,
mixed after a little with the common oak (Q. incana). At about 5000 feet
the steep lateral spur joined the ridge, and the road turned to the eastward,
and continued along the steep sides of the ridge, which overhang the valley
of the river 2000 feet below. The Sutlej was well seen, running among bare
rocky hills, the pine-wood being confined to the upper parts of the steep
slopes.

Had we continued our course along this ridge, it would in time have
conducted us to the crest of the main range south of the Sutlej, the same
which we had left at Nagkanda to descend into the Sutlej valley. It would
have been necessary for this purpose to ascend to a height of between
12,000 and 13,000 feet, and to proceed to a considerable distance south; our
object, however, being to keep along the river as nearly as possible, it
would not have suited our purpose to ascend so far, and the road only left
the banks of the Sutlej on account of the difficult nature of the ground in the
bottom of the valley. We found, therefore, after continuing a mile or two on
the steep slope of the ridge, that the road again began to descend, not
exactly towards the Sutlej, but to the bottom of the ravine or dell, by which
the spur on which we had ascended was separated from that next in
succession to it.
As far as the beginning of the descent the hill-side had
GAORA. been bare, or only clothed with scattered pine-wood,
August, 1847.
but as soon as the eastern slope was gained, and the
descent commenced, the slopes became well wooded with Rhododendron
and Oak. The descent was probably not more than 1000 feet, perhaps
scarcely so much, as the ravine sloped very abruptly to the Sutlej; on the
lower part of the descent, and on the bank of the stream, the wood was
principally alder, and a few subtropical grasses and Cyperaceæ marked the
commencement of the vegetation of the lower region, while a valerian, a
Hieracium, a species of Datisca, and an Arundo or allied grass, were the
new species of plants observed; of these, perhaps the Datisca alone
markedly indicated an approach to the interior Himalaya. After crossing the
ravine the road ascended abruptly up a well-wooded slope, on the northern
face of a steep spur, to the village of Gaora, at which, for the first time since
leaving Simla, we encamped, no house being available for our
accommodation. The morning had been fair, though dull, but soon after our
arrival at Gaora it began to rain, and continued to do so all the afternoon.
Gaora is situated, according to Captain Gerard, about 3000 feet above
Rampur; but from the appearance of the vegetation, and a comparison with
known heights on both hands, we estimated the elevation of our
encampment to be not more than 5500 feet, so that probably Captain
Gerard's observations refer to some more elevated point.

On resuming our journey on the morning of the 11th of
MANGLÂD August, we continued the ascent of the spur on which
VALLEY.
August, 1847. the village of Gaora is situated, which is well wooded
with the ordinary trees of the temperate zone of the
Himalaya. There were a few rice-fields on the hill-side on cleared places
above 6000 feet, and some orange-trees in the villages at about the same
elevation; from both of which facts, more sun-heat and less rain during
summer may be inferred, than in similar elevations on the outer Himalaya,
where neither rice nor oranges occur so high. A little way higher up, the
forest changed its character, the holly-leaved oak, the deodar, and the
spruce, being the common trees, among which the road continued for four
or five miles, without much change of level, when the forest ceased, and the
road, after continuing for a short time at about the same level, descended
abruptly to the ravine of the Manglâd river, a considerable stream, now
swollen into a furious torrent, which rushed with impetuosity down its steep
rocky bed. A great part of the descent was bare, over crumbling mica-slate
rocks.
The vegetation in the bottom of the glen showed, as on former occasions,
indications of a low elevation, but presented no novelty, except in the
occurrence of Melia Azedarach, apparently wild. I have occasionally
noticed this tree in the interior of the Himalaya, always at an elevation of
between 4000 and 5000 feet, and invariably in the drier valleys of the
mountains, but it is so commonly cultivated in India, that its occurrence can
scarcely be regarded as a proof of its being indigenous, especially if we
consider that it is a rare circumstance to find it in even an apparently wild
state. I do not, however, know that it has a greater claim to be considered a
native of any part of the world.
The ascent on the east side was long, steep, and
SERAHAN. fatiguing, up well-wooded slopes. At about 6000 feet, a
August, 1847.
single tree of Hippophaë conferta, with nearly ripe
fruit, was observed near a spring, and a few hundred feet higher the road
gained the ridge, and continued for a mile and a half of very gentle ascent,
on a broad, nearly level mountain-side, to Serahan, through beautiful forest
of oak and pine. Serahan, the summer residence of the Basehir Rajah, is
pleasantly situated at an elevation of 7000 feet above the level of the sea, on
the northern slope of the mountain range, surrounded on all sides by pine-

forest. The village is small, and occupies the lower margin of an open glade
of considerable extent, on which there is a good deal of cultivation, of the
same plants as I have noted at Kotgarh. The latter part of our march had
been through heavy rain, which continued all the evening, and the greater
part of the night, but we were fortunate enough to find an empty house,
capable of sheltering our servants and baggage, as well as ourselves.
Besides the Hippophaë, which I noted on the ascent from Manglâd, several
plants appeared on this day's journey, which served to chronicle a gradual
alteration in the flora, notwithstanding that the forest-trees and general
character continued generally the same. Of these, the most interesting, by
far, was a plant discovered by Mr. Edgeworth, in the same tract of country,
and by him described as Oxybaphus Himalayanus, a species of a genus
otherwise entirely South American. It is a rank-growing, coarse, herbaceous
plant, with tumid joints, and a straggling dichotomous habit, and has small
pink or rose-coloured flowers, covered with a viscid exudation. It grows in
open pastures and in waste places near villages, and is an abundant species
throughout the Kunawar valley.
On the morning of the 12th of August we marched to
TRANDA. Tranda, along the mountain-side, winding a little with
August, 1847.
its sinuations, and occasionally descending to cross the
little streamlets which furrow its side, and separate the lateral ridges from
one another. The road lay through beautiful forest, and as the day was fine
we obtained at intervals a succession of superb views, of the deep and well-
wooded valleys below, and the rugged mountains north of the Sutlej. The
forest-trees were still the hoary and holly-leaved oak, with deodar and
spruce, though in the more shady woods along the streams, the horse-
chesnut, and a fine glaucous-leaved laurel, were common. The shrubby and
herbaceous vegetation was in general character the same as in the denser
woods of Simla, the new species being still quite exceptional.
It soon became necessary to descend, in order to gain a place on the next
range in succession to the eastward, so as not to leave the river at too great a
distance. Forest continued to the bottom of the descent, which showed no
signs of tropical vegetation, and was therefore not to so low a level as those
of previous days. The remainder of the day's journey consisted of a
succession of ascents and descents, mostly long and fatiguing, with

occasionally half a mile nearly level. Many of the steeper parts were very
rocky and rugged, so difficult that artificial steps were required to make
them practicable, and even with their aid a horse could scarcely pass. The
greater part of the road lay through forest, and two considerable streams
were crossed besides the one on the early part of the march. From the last of
these a long and very laborious ascent led to the crest of the Tranda ridge,
on the very top of which we halted for the night in a log hut, built for the
accommodation of travellers, in the midst of a fine forest of deodar-trees.
The Tranda ridge has, till near its termination, an elevation of upwards of
8000 feet, and projects boldly forward towards the Sutlej, dipping at last
extremely abruptly to the river. The Sutlej is here thrown to the north, in a
sharp bend, and runs through a deep gloomy ravine. This ridge, therefore,
more lofty and abrupt than any farther west, is considered as the
commencement of Kunawar; and the valley to the eastward, as far as the
Wangtu bridge, is generally called Lower Kunawar, to distinguish it from
the upper and drier parts of that district. The rise of the bed of the river is so
gradual, that the transition of climate takes place at first by almost
insensible gradations; but as soon as the spurs retain a height of 8000 feet
till close to the Sutlej, they exercise a powerful influence upon the climate,
and the vegetation and physical aspect of the country change with great
rapidity.

CHAPTER III.
Sildang river—Fine grove of Deodars—Nachar—Fruit-trees—Vine seen for first time—Boundaries
of Kulu and Kunawar—Cross Sutlej at Wangtu bridge—Vegetation of bare rocky valley—
Waterfall—Chegaon—Pinus Gerardiana—Miru—Absence of rain—Alteration of vegetation—
Quercus Ilex—Rogi—Willow and Poplar—Chini—Cultivated Plain—Kashbir—Pangi—Camp at
upper level of trees—Junipers—Werang Pass—Alpine Vegetation—Birch and Rhododendron—
Granite Boulders—Lipa—Alluvial Deposits—Encamp at 12,500 feet—Runang Pass—Vegetation
very scanty—Stunted Forest—Sungnam.

The night we spent at Tranda was stormy, with thunder
SILDANG VALLEY. and heavy showers of rain, but the morning of the 13th
August, 1847.
was bright and beautiful, enabling us to see from our
elevated position on the ridge, a single snow-peak, far to the eastward, in
Kunawar. At the commencement of the day's march, the road receded from
the Sutlej into a deep mountain bay, densely wooded with deodar and pine
(Pinus excelsa). A few trees only of spruce and horse-chesnut occurred.
After a mile, passing round a projecting spur, a fine view was obtained of
the river Sutlej at the bottom of a deep ravine, and of the mountain range
north of the river, now in several places covered with heavy snow. A little
farther on, the road descended very abruptly along the face of rugged and
precipitous rocks, to the valley of the Sildang river, a large stream which
was crossed in two branches by two very indifferent wooden bridges. The
Sildang valley, at the point where the road crosses it, has been stated by
Gerard to be elevated 5800 feet above the level of the sea. It is a larger
stream than any of those yet crossed since leaving Rampur, and its ravine is
beautifully wooded. The ascent to the east was gentle, through woods of
oak and pine, and after rising a few hundred feet, the road continued nearly
level for some miles, with the Sutlej in sight below. A large village was
passed on the latter part of the march, with many temples evidently of old
date, and situated in a grove of very large deodar-trees, several of which
were upwards of twenty feet in circumference. One large tree with a
flattened trunk, as if formed by the union of two, measured, at five feet
from the base, thirty-five and a-half feet round. This grove was evidently of
great age, and probably consisted of old trees, at the time the village was
founded, and the temples were built under its sacred shade.
Nachar, at which we took up our quarters for the night, is a very large
village, by far the most considerable yet passed, with many good houses,
much cultivated land, and great numbers of fine fruit-trees. Walnuts,
peaches, apricots, and mulberries, were all common; and I saw one grape-
vine, which bore a good many bunches of fruit. The crops cultivated were
chiefly millet and buckwheat, with a good many fields of Amaranthus and
Chenopodium. The fruit-trees were evidently, from their numbers and
luxuriance, a very valuable part of the possessions of the inhabitants; and it
was very interesting to meet with the vine, though only in small quantity,
and evidently not yet in a thoroughly suitable climate. The elevation of the

village, which occupied a great extent of the hill-side sloping down towards
the Sutlej, now close at hand, was nearly 7000 feet.
Nearly opposite Nachar, the district of Kunawar, which
EASTERN had hitherto been confined to the south bank of the
BOUNDARY OF
KULU. Sutlej, extends to both sides of the river; the province of
August, 1847. Kulu, which had hitherto occupied the northern bank,
being bounded on the east by the mountain-chain which
separates the waters of the Beas river from those of the Piti, a tributary of
the Sutlej. By this very lofty chain, the villages on the north side of the
Sutlej, to the east of the point now reached, are entirely cut off from the
valley of the Beas, and naturally become connected with the district
immediately opposite to them, with which alone they have an easy
communication. Kulu, till the campaign of 1846, had belonged to the
Punjab; but one of the results of the Sikh war, in that year, was the transfer
of that district to British rule, so that the Sutlej, in its lower course, no
longer served as a boundary between hostile states. In Kunawar, the north
side of the river is the most important, because it is more populous and
fertile than the south, not only from its more favourable exposure, but
because the chain to the south of the Sutlej continues to increase in
elevation as it proceeds eastward, while that on the north becomes gradually
lower as it advances towards the confluence of the Sutlej and Piti rivers.
For this reason the main road or highway through
DESCENT Kunawar crosses to the right bank of the Sutlej, a short
TOWARDS THE
SUTLEJ. way above Nachar. At starting, therefore, on the
August, 1847. morning of the 14th of August, we began to descend
towards the river. For about a mile and a half the
descent was very gentle, through a good deal of cultivation. There were
many fruit-trees, but very little natural wood; a few horse-chesnut trees
were observed, and occasionally a scattered deodar, spruce, or pine. On the
earlier part of the road the pines were P. excelsa, but lower down that tree
gave place to P. longifolia. After a mile and a half, the descent became more
rapid, over a rocky and bad road, which continued to the bridge, distant
three miles from Nachar. On the bare, arid, and rocky hills between Nachar
and the river, several very striking novelties were observed in the
vegetation; but as the road had for several days been at a higher level, and
generally among dense forest, it is not improbable that many of these new

plants may occur on the lower parts of the hills, in the immediate vicinity of
the river, further to the westward. The new species were in all about six in
number, of which three—two species of Daphne and an olive—were very
abundant, and therefore prominent features in the appearance of the country.
At the point where the bridge has been thrown across,
WANGTU BRIDGE. the river Sutlej has an elevation, by the determination
August, 1847.
of Captain Gerard, of 5200 feet above the level of the
sea. Its bed and the banks on both sides are very rocky and bare, and the
width of the stream not more than seventy feet. The bridge is of that kind
called by the mountaineers sanga, which means a wooden bridge or bridge
of planks, contrasted with jhula, a rope-bridge. On the left bank the pier of
the bridge is formed by an isolated rock, separated from the rocky banks by
an ancient bed of the river, now quite dry, but worn smooth by the action of
the current. This former channel is stated by Gerard to have been blocked
up by a fall of rocks from above; previous to which occurrence, the isolated
rock must have stood as an island in the centre of the stream. The
construction of the bridge is singular, but simple, and only adapted for very
little traffic. Six stout trunks of trees are laid alongside of one another on
the pier, so that the end towards the river is a little higher than the other;
above these are placed in succession two similar layers of trunks, each
projecting several feet beyond the one below it, and the whole of these are
kept in position by a substantial stone building, through which the roadway
runs. A similar structure on the opposite bank narrows the distance to be
spanned, at the same time that it affords support to the central portion of the
bridge, which consists of two strong pine-trees fifty feet in length, placed
about two feet apart, and supporting stout cross planking. The whole forms
a bridge quite strong enough to support foot-passengers or lightly laden
horses, the only purpose for which it is required.
In spite of the considerable elevation which the Sutlej
WATERFALL. valley had now acquired, a number of plants of tropical
August, 1847.
character occurred in the neighbourhood of the Wangtu
bridge. These were mostly common grasses and Cyperaceæ, Polycarpæa
corymbosa, Achyranthes aspera, and a few other species, all common
mountain-plants at low elevations, which here, from the great heat caused
by the lessened rain and the concentration of the sun's rays, at the bottom of
a deep bare valley, surmounted on both sides by mountains 10,000 feet

above its level, enjoy a congenial climate. They are, however, confined to
the most exposed places, and to the lower levels only. A few rugged pine-
trees are scattered on the steep rocks, both Pinus excelsa, which does not
descend quite to the base of the hills, and Pinus longifolia, which has here
reached nearly its eastern limits, the elevation of the river-bed soon
becoming greater than that at which it will grow. Close to the Wangtu
bridge, on the right bank, a considerable stream joins the Sutlej from the
north, and is crossed by the road not far from its junction with the great
river. The lower part of this tributary exhibits a succession of fine rapids
and a waterfall, now much swollen by the melting of the snow; and which,
notwithstanding the want of trees and consequent bareness of the
accessories, formed a picture such as often greets the eye of the traveller in
the alpine districts of Himalaya, but which no amount of repetition renders
less grand and magnificent. Captain Gerard has, in his little 'Tour in
Kunawar,' described this torrent in strong language, which showed that he
felt the beauty of the scene. For this he has been condemned by
Jacquemont, who sneeringly says that he describes it "comme si c'était le
Niagara," an expression which induced me to turn on the spot to Gerard's
book, so that I can testify to the accuracy and absence of exaggeration of his
description.
After crossing this stream, the road ascends the spur which runs parallel to
it, to an elevation of about 1000 feet above the Sutlej, but only to descend
again to its banks, the ascent being caused by the impracticable nature of
the rocky banks of the river. The spur was bare of trees, but with scattered
brushwood, in which the olive and white Daphne, observed on the descent
from Nachar, still abounded, with several other novelties, among which a
Clematis, Silene, Stellaria, and Selaginella, all previously-described
Kunawar species, were the most remarkable. Several of the grasses of the
plains of India, such as a Panicum (perhaps P. paludosum), Eleusine Indica,
and Heteropogon contortus, occurred on the hot dry pastures among the
rocks, up to above 6000 feet. The rock was everywhere gneiss, but varied
much in appearance and texture, and contained many granite veins.

After regaining the river, the road ran along its bank, or
CHEGAON. on low spurs not more than a few hundred feet above it,
August, 1847.
through a dry treeless tract, till about two miles from
the end of the day's journey, when a long steep ascent led to Chegaon, a
large village situated on a stream with steep rocky banks, the houses as
usual being surrounded with fruit-trees. Here we encamped after a march of
at least fourteen miles, at an elevation of 7000 feet above the level of the
sea, or nearly 1800 feet above the valley of the Sutlej.
Next day our journey was a short one, not more than
GERARD'S PINE. five and a half miles, to the village of Miru. It began by
August, 1847.
a rapid ascent for two miles to the crest of the ridge,
advancing all the time towards the Sutlej, which wound round the base of
the steep spur 2000 feet below. The ascent was bare (as the slopes facing
the west generally are), and the hill-side almost precipitous; but as soon as
the crest of the ridge, at an elevation of about 8000 feet, had been gained,
scattered trees appeared of a species not previously seen. This was P.
Gerardiana, the pine of Kunawar and the other dry regions of the Western
Himalaya, from the back parts of Garhwal (where it has been seen by Dr.
Jameson) to the valleys of the Upper Chenab. The first trees met with were
small, and in appearance quite distinct from P. longifolia and excelsa, being
more compact, with much shorter leaves and a very peculiar bark, falling
off in large patches, so as to leave the trunk nearly smooth.
Beyond the crest of the ridge, from which the view into
MIRU. the Sutlej valley, and towards the mountains across the
August, 1847.
river, was superb, the road on the east slope again
receded from the river, entering an oak-wood, through which it continued
nearly level for more than a mile, but soon began to descend slightly
towards the stream, which ran at the bottom of a deep ravine, down to
which the road plunged abruptly, to ascend again as steeply on the other
side; after which a steep ascent of upwards of a mile led to Miru, a large
village in which we encamped, at an elevation of 8500 feet.
At this delightful elevation, in a climate where the periodical rains of the
Himalaya are scarcely felt, embosomed in extensive orchards of luxuriant
fruit-trees, and facing the south, so that it has the full benefit of the sun's

rays to mature its grain-crops, Miru is one of the most delightful villages of
Kunawar, being rivalled only by Rogi and Chini, beyond which the climate
becomes too arid for beauty. The crops at Miru, both of grain and fruit,
were most luxuriant, and the vine thrives to perfection. The principal
vineyards, however, are lower down, at elevations of between 6000 and
7000 feet, at which level the sun has more power in autumn to ripen the
grape.
The scenery around Miru is indescribably beautiful, as it almost overhangs
the Sutlej 3000 feet below, while beyond the river the mountain-slopes are
densely wooded, yet often rocky and with every variation of form. A single
peak, still streaked with snow, but too steep for much to lie, rises almost due
opposite; behind which the summits of the chain south of the Sutlej rise to
an elevation of upwards of 18,000 feet.
At Miru we found that we had completely left the rainy region of the
mountains, and henceforward the weather continued beautiful. The change
had been very gradual. At Serahan we had heavy rain; a rainy night at
Tranda was succeeded by a brilliant day, till the afternoon, when it rained
smartly for an hour. The next day was again fine, and at Miru, though the
afternoon was cloudy, and a heavy storm was visible among the mountains
across the Sutlej, only a few drops of rain fell. The transition from a rainy to
a dry climate had thus been apparently very sudden, four days having
brought us from Serahan, where the periodical rains were falling heavily, to
a place at which there were only light showers. This was in part, of course,
accident. Fine weather may, perhaps, have set-in in the interval in all parts
of the mountains. In very rainy seasons, when the rain-fall in the outer
Himalaya is considerably above the mean, heavy showers extend into
Kunawar, at least as far as Chini; and careful meteorological observations
would probably show that the transition of climate is a very gradual one, the
snowy mountains and the great spurs which run towards the Sutlej
collecting and condensing, as they increase in elevation, more and more of
the moisture which is brought by the south-east winds from the Bay of
Bengal.
Jacquemont, in the valuable journal of his tour in India,
VEGETATION OF which has been published by the French Government,
KUNAWAR.
August, 1847. has observed that the passage of the ridge between

Chegaon and Miru may be considered as producing a marked change in the
vegetation. This change, as we have seen during our journey up the Sutlej,
had long been going on, though very gradually and almost insensibly.
Several circumstances combine to make the transition appear at this point
more sudden than a careful calculation of the number of new species will
prove to be the case. It is the first wooded ridge on the north side of the
Sutlej over which the road passes, and it rises higher than any other part of
the route east of Nagkanda. A considerable effect is also produced by
several new arboreous or shrubby species making their appearance, as well
as by the fact that the new forms, which day by day have insensibly been
increasing in number, have at last begun to form a prominent feature in the
country.
I find among my notes a list of all the species of plants which came under
my observation during the walk from Chegaon to Miru. Their number is
rather above 150 species, of which number about 120 are common Simla
plants. Of the remaining thirty, eleven were quite new to me, ten had
occurred only the day before, and nine had been common for some days
past. These numbers convey a very different idea of the amount of change
from that produced at the time, but the latter must be admitted to be very
fallacious, the eye of the botanist being so naturally attracted by novelty, to
the utter disregard of what is common, that it is difficult to preserve the
degree of attention requisite to observe properly.
Pinus Gerardiana produces a very large cone,
QUERCUS ILEX. containing, like the stone-pine of Europe, eatable nuts,
August, 1847.
of an elongated oblong form, which, when roasted like
chesnuts, are agreeable to the taste, though with a little flavour of
turpentine. This tree has been repeatedly tried in the rainy districts of the
Himalaya, but will not succeed, a dry climate being essential to it. Besides
Gerard's pine, a new species of oak was the most conspicuous tree, forming
a thick dry wood on western exposures. This oak, the only species of the
genus which grows in the interior of Kunawar, is the Quercus Ilex. The
specimens which I collected quite agree with the European plant, and
belong to that form of the evergreen oak, which has been called Q. Ballota.
The same tree is common in some parts of Affghanistan, where it is called
Balút. A small graceful ash was also common, and species of Stellaria,
Lychnis, Dianthus, Herniaria, Cruciferæ, Senecio, and Valeriana, which,

with several Chenopodiaceæ and Artemisiæ, were the new species
observed.
On the morning of the 16th of August, we proceeded to
VIEW OF THE Rogi, eight and a half miles. On leaving Miru the road
SUTLEJ.
August, 1847. at first ascended gradually through a pretty wood of
deodar and Gerard's pine. The common pear-tree of the
Himalaya, and many of the more ordinary Simla shrubs, species of
Desmodium, Indigofera, Spiræa, Buddleia, and Plectranthus, were common
under the shade of the pine-forest. As the elevation increased, the trees
gradually diminished in number, and the road continued to rise along the
side of a rocky hill, with only a few scattered deodars. A very pretty reach
of the Sutlej now came into sight. The river was broader than usual, and
seemed to flow with a gentle stream along an even bed, without interruption
from rocks. Opposite the junction of the Miru tributary, which was in sight
at the end of the reach, the Sutlej was particularly wide, and its channel was
divided into several branches, which enclosed a number of gravelly islands,
immediately beyond which the stream again contracted in width, and
resumed its usual rocky character.
From the top of the steep ascent, which must have exceeded 9000 feet in
elevation, the road continued along the side of the hill, without much
change of level. The slopes were nearly bare, a few trees of the deodar and
Gerard's pine only occurring occasionally. The latter tree was more
common, and larger than the day before. It is a compact small tree, with
much-twisted ascending branches, and a mottled grey bark, quite smooth
from the decortication of the outer layers. It bore abundance of large
pendulous cones, the size of a small pine-apple, still quite green.
A little more than two miles from Miru, the road
BURANG PASS. descended to pass a stream, which was crossed in two
August, 1847.
branches. Immediately afterwards another long ascent
commenced, at first steep and bare, with a western exposure, then more
gradual through an open wood of deodar and Pinus excelsa. The highest
elevation attained was almost 11,000 feet, and close to the summit a most
superb view was seen to the south. The valley of the Sutlej was not in sight,
but the whole course of the Baspa, except its junction with the Sutlej, and a
great extent of fine snowy range beyond, were beautifully seen. The Burang

or Borendo pass, elevated 16,000 feet, which leads from the Baspa valley to
the upper part of the Pabar or Tons river, a branch of the Jumna, was very
conspicuous, with many large patches of grey dirty-looking snow on the
hills near it, but its summit seemingly bare. At the highest elevation attained
the face of the hill was a mass of precipitous rocks. A fine peak, which had
long been visible across the Sutlej, was now almost opposite. This
mountain, the termination of the range to the east of the Baspa river, when
viewed from the west and north-west, has the appearance of a vast
precipice, rocky and bare of trees, commencing within little more than a
thousand feet of the Sutlej. The north-east face, which comes into view for
the first time from the heights above Miru, is covered throughout with
magnificent forest, rising to an elevation considerably higher than that at
which I stood.
The elevation we had now attained was higher than any
VEGETATION. previous part of our journey, being 200 feet above the
August, 1847.
peak of Hattu. A cold westerly wind was blowing up the
valley of the Sutlej, evidently bringing a good deal of moisture along with
it, for thin wreaths of mist were occasionally condensed, for a few minutes
obscuring the distant view, and then melting again into transparent vapour.
The vegetation was less different from that below, than I had expected, and
much more luxuriant than I could have supposed, with nothing of an alpine
character. Many of the species were identical with those of Nagkanda and
the crest of Hattu; but there was no bamboo, nor any of the Acanthaceæ, so
common in the more shady and humid forest further east. Balsams,
however, were abundant and large, Potentillæ, Salvia nubicola, and Nepetæ,
Polygona, Achilleæ, Gnaphalia, and several species of Pedicularis and
Ophelia, formed a thick and rank growth. The most remarkable forms
observed were Astragaline, of which several species, one a spinous
Caragana, were abundant. A pretty little Veronica and Bupleurum, and
several new Cichoraceæ, were also collected, as well as an Orobanche,
parasitical upon the roots of the common thyme (Thymus Serpyllum).
From the crest, the remainder of the road consists of a
ROGI. succession of short ascents and descents, along the face
August, 1847.
of a very rocky hill, till within a mile of Rogi, when it
descends very abruptly down the side of a rugged ravine to that village,
which, though elevated 9000 feet, lies low down on the mountain-side, and

has the appearance of being in a hollow. At Rogi we found the grapes quite
ripe, and extremely abundant, but all from vineyards at lower levels. The
commonest grape is globular, and of a deep, nearly black colour; but many
varieties are cultivated. The apricots were also ripe, and had been gathered
from the trees. The flat tops of the houses were now covered with them,
drying in the sun. They are split up the middle and dried, the stones being
taken out. In this state they keep well, and form a considerable article of
export to India. Peach and walnut trees are also common at Rogi, and I saw
a few apple-trees. A species of willow, which, in shape of leaf and general
appearance, closely resembles a common English willow (Salix alba), is
commonly planted along with a glabrous poplar, a small, rather spreading
tree, which is frequent throughout Tibet, and seems to be the balsam poplar
of Siberia and North America. The English henbane (Hyoscyamus niger)
abounds in waste places. This also is a common Tibetan plant, and extends
into the drier valleys of the Himalaya, such as Kunawar and Kashmir, but
not into the outer mountains, where the periodical rains are heavy.
On the 17th of August we proceeded to Pangi, nine miles farther, passing on
the road the village of Chini, the largest inhabited place and most fertile
tract of Kunawar, of which it may therefore be considered the capital. From
Rogi we had to make a considerable ascent to regain the road, that village
lying lower than the direct route from Miru. The ascent lay first through the
cultivated lands of the village, and afterwards through open wood. After
regaining the road, the ascent continued through a gloomy forest of large
deodar-trees for about a mile, terminating at about 10,000 feet of elevation,
at which height, turning round a corner on the crest of the ridge, we found
ourselves on the upper part of a precipitous cliff, which descends sheer
down to the Sutlej. Unfortunately the morning was very misty, a dense fog,
condensed from the steadily blowing west wind, enveloping everything, till
after ten o'clock, by which time we had long passed the precipitous part of
the road. We were told, however, that the cliff was absolutely impracticable
below, and, indeed, even where we passed, no little engineering skill was
displayed, as the road led along the face of an absolute precipice, on ledges
scarcely three feet broad, or just as often over wooden planking, supported
at intervals by large upright pieces of timber, whose resting-places were
invisible in the dense mist by which we were surrounded.

As soon as this rocky projection was passed, the road
CHINI. descended rapidly, but over good level ground for half a
August, 1847.
mile, through a forest of deodar, in which some of the
trees were of large size, one of them measuring nineteen feet eight inches in
circumference. At the bottom of this descent, after passing a projecting
rocky ridge, the village of Chini came in sight, straggling along the side of a
sloping hill. Chini occupies the most level, and therefore the most fertile,
valley in Kunawar. The village is prettily situated among deodar-trees,
while below, and on either side of it, the slopes are disposed in a succession
of terraces, some of them of considerable extent, richly cultivated with
wheat, barley, and buckwheat. Through this fertile tract, the road was quite
level, winding among the stone enclosures of the fields, and often bordered
on both sides by grassy pastures, or patches of beautiful green turf, where
the little rills, which served to irrigate the fields, had overflowed their
banks, and converted the flat land into swampy meadows. Near Chini, we
passed a single vineyard of small extent, at an elevation of 7000 feet, the
fruit still quite unripe, though for several days we had been plentifully
supplied with ripe grapes from the lower vineyards. The vines are supported
by erect poles, about four feet high, placed about three feet apart, and
connected by horizontal ones laid across them, on which the vines twine.
A little further we passed the small village of Kashbir,
KASHBIR. consisting of two or three houses only; beyond which a
August, 1847.
pleasant forest of deodar and Gerard's pine was entered,
quite dry, and almost devoid of undergrowth; a few bushes of Daphne,
occasionally a small ash-tree, two or three stunted oaks, and quantities of
withered grass and dried-up Artemisia, being the only plants observed.
Everything looked arid, notwithstanding the eastern exposure, and showed
strikingly the rapid change of climate which was taking place. Some of the
trees of Pinus Gerardiana, which seemed to thrive more in this arid wood
than further west, were between fifty and sixty feet in height, and one of the
largest of them which I noticed was nearly twelve feet in circumference.
Through this forest the road continued nearly level, till it reached a ravine,
on the opposite bank of which was situated the village of Pangi. A very
steep descent of half a mile brought us to the stream; and an ascent of more
than a mile, in the course of which we rose about 1000 feet vertically,
terminated the day's journey. Pangi is a large village, 9000 feet above the

level of the sea, with much cultivation and magnificent orchards of apricots,
peaches, and walnuts.
From Chegaon to Pangi we had passed through the
PANGI. finest and most fertile part of Kunawar, which is,
August, 1847.
however, by no means confined to the north bank of the
Sutlej; many large villages having been seen on the opposite side of the
valley, with almost as much cultivation as those through which we had
passed. The communication across the Sutlej is kept up by paths which lead
through the lower cultivation and vineyards to the bank of the river, which
is spanned in several places by rope-bridges, one of which only, we saw at a
distance. During these three days' journey, the weather was most beautiful,
and we could never sufficiently admire the ever-changing beauties of the
scenery, which, probably, for variety and magnificence, is nowhere
surpassed. The great peak of Raldang, a culminating point of the south
Sutlej Himalaya, lies nearly opposite to Chini, and, from a great part of the
Kunawar valley, is a prominent feature from almost every point of view. It
forms a rugged rocky mass, and the ravines on its slopes are filled with
large masses of snow, the lowest beds at this season of a dirty grey colour,
and evidently still rapidly receding under the influence of the powerful
autumn sun. No glaciers were anywhere in sight.
We were now about to enter upon a very troublesome part of our journey,
the crossing of the various ridges which are given off by the mountain range
north of the Sutlej, at the great bend of that river where it is joined by the
almost equally large Piti river, from the north. These long ranges, given off
by an axis 18,000 feet in height, slope at first gently towards these rivers,
but at last dip extremely abruptly into the enormous ravine, at the bottom of
which the Piti and Sutlej rivers run. Occasionally a rugged and difficult
footpath may be found to lead among these precipices, by frequent steep
ascents and descents, at no great distance above the river. These paths are
always most laborious, and often very dangerous, and the usual road into
the valley of the Piti river leads across the higher part of all these ridges,
where they are no longer precipitous, but slope at a gentle inclination.
During the journey from Simla, I had been able to
ROCKS OF acquire very little information regarding the geology of
KUNAWAR.
August, 1847. the valley of the Sutlej; the quantity of forest, and the

rapidity with which we travelled, being unfavourable to the determination
of the nature of the rocks. In the earlier part of our journey argillaceous
schist, often highly micaceous, predominated. In Kunawar, from Wangtu
eastward, gneiss and mica-schist were almost the only rocks which I
observed. These appeared to alternate again and again as we advanced, but I
obtained no certainty regarding their relative position. Veins of granite
occurred occasionally in the gneiss, especially at Wangtu, and probably,
from the number of boulders, the axis of the range north of the Sutlej is
composed of granite.
Behind Pangi is the Werang ridge, crossed by the pass of that name at a
point where its height is 13,200 feet above the sea. This ridge, as will be
seen by the map, separates the valley east of Pangi from that of Lipa, the
next in succession to the eastward, through which a large tributary flows to
join the Sutlej. From Pangi to Lipa, the distance, though considerable, is not
too much for an active man to accomplish in one day. It would, however,
have been a very long march, allowing of no delay on the way, or on the top
of the pass. We therefore divided the distance into two days' journey,
ascending on the 18th of August to the upper limit of tree vegetation on the
west side of the ridge, and leaving the remainder of the ascent and the
whole descent for the next day.
At daybreak we were on foot, preparing for the ascent.
ASCENT TOWARDS The morning was, as usual for some days past, thickly
THE WERANG
PASS. foggy, and a heavy dew had fallen during the night. At
August, 1847. starting we ascended gently through a dry pine-wood,
towards the face of the mountain ridge of which Pangi
occupies the western slope. This ridge, like that above Rogi, on the previous
day's journey, is very precipitous towards the Sutlej; and the road leads
among rocks, and sometimes over planks of wood, ascending gradually as
we advanced. After about a mile and a half, rounding the most projecting
part of the ridge, we began to recede from the Sutlej on the eastern slope of
the range, along the western side of a beautifully wooded open valley, at the
bottom of which ran a large rapid stream, evidently descending from snow.
Without descending at all, we continued to advance for a mile and a half
through fine forest, till we nearly met the stream, which we crossed after a
slight abrupt descent. Immediately after crossing, a steep fatiguing ascent of
not less than three miles commenced, continuing, with scarcely any

intermission, till we reached the spot selected for our encampment,
inclining all the way in the direction of the course of the stream, and
therefore towards the Sutlej; so that when we stopped, we almost
overlooked that river, and had a fine view of the peak of Raldang, covered
with a dazzling coat of fresh snow.
The forest at the base of this ascent was principally composed of deodar and
Gerard's pine. The former continued abundant till within a quarter of a mile
of the top, when it suddenly disappeared. Pinus Gerardiana gradually
diminished in number during the ascent, and at last disappeared about the
same time as the deodar. Pinus excelsa was not seen at the bottom, and was
scarce on the earlier part of the ascent, but became more abundant as we
increased our elevation, and was the only tree seen round our encampment.
At this point the trees were straggling and distant, but very tall and
luxuriant, being well sheltered by rocks. Above our encampment, which
was, according to Captain Strachey's barometer, 11,800 feet, there were
only a very few stunted trees on a rocky ridge behind. Excepting in the
occurrence of a few new species of Astragalus and Artemisia, now quite
typical forms, the vegetation during the greater part of the ascent was the
same as on the higher levels east of Miru, and it was only above 11,000 feet
that any considerable change was observed. Here three species of juniper
made their appearance, all stunted bushes, though one of them was J.
excelsa, which, in more favourable circumstances, grows to a small tree.
The second species was J. squamosa, a depressed shrub, with rigid twisted
branches, and the third was undistinguishable from the common juniper of
Europe. A thorny species of Ribes, very like the common gooseberry, a
strongly scented Labiate, Dictamnus Himalayanus, several Compositæ, one
of which was a large-flowered thistle, and European-looking Junci and
grasses, were all observed above 11,000 feet. A beautiful Rose (R.
Webbiana) was common all the way from the stream.
During the ascent, after crossing the ravine, the rock was throughout gneiss,
passing sometimes into a curious dark slaty rock. It was often very fine-
grained; and in one place a granite vein was observed, entirely without
stratification, and about a foot thick. Throughout the ascent the surface was
strewed with erratic blocks of granite, evidently transported from a
distance.

The slope below our camp, for several hundred feet, was cultivated with
barley, but the crops were indifferent. Lower down, the mountain-side was
too steep to admit of tillage. There were no houses, the fields being the
property of the inhabitants of a village a long way below, to the east of
Pangi.
The morning of the 19th, before sunrise, was a good deal clearer than the
two last had been, but mist began to collect soon after sunrise, and did not
entirely disappear for about two hours. Immediately after starting, the last
trees of Pinus excelsa were left behind, and the ascent to the crest of the
pass was gentle, over rough stony ground, covered with tufts of juniper, a
shrubby Artemisia, and Pteris aquilina. The pass, which has an elevation of
13,200 feet, occupies a low part of the ridge, the slope to the left descending
gently, but rising again into a sharp rocky peak, five or six hundred feet
higher. The crest of the pass is a vast mass of loose rocks, and the slopes of
the hill on the right are likewise covered with a mass of fragments. These
angular boulders are all granite, none of which occurs in situ; the rocks
throughout the ascent, so far as I could observe, being gneiss and mica-
slate, the latter in one place containing large crystals of cyanite in great
abundance.
In the crevices of the loose stones which covered the pass, a very luxuriant
vegetation was found; the same plants grew on the hill to the right, and
were especially abundant among its rocky recesses. The forms were, for the
first time on our journey, quite alpine, very few of the plants being even
shrubby, while the great majority were small herbs. A willow, a very small
Rhododendron, and Andromeda fastigiata, were almost the only shrubby
plants, and the majority of forms were those common on the Alps of
Europe, and comprised species of Astragalus, Stellaria, Anemone,
Ranunculus, Meconopsis, Saxifraga, Sedum, several Umbelliferæ,
Pedicularis, Gentiana, Gnaphalium, Dolomiæa, Saussurea, Artemisia,
Ligularia, Morina, Galium, Valeriana, and many others. I added to my
collection in all about thirty new species in a very short time. I had,
however, never before been at so great an elevation in the Himalaya, so that
almost every plant I met was new to me.
The view from the top of the pass was only remarkable for its barrenness. In
the direction we had ascended, the prospect was not striking; and to the

north-east, the valley in advance and hills beyond were almost bare,
scattered bushes and very little forest being visible. The wind blew over the
pass from the Indian side, and continued throughout the day to blow on our
backs strongly as we descended.
From the crest of the pass, the descent to Lipa was long
DESCENT FROM and steep, the distance being about five miles. At about
THE WERANG
PASS. 500 feet or rather more (of perpendicular height) below
August, 1847. the pass, the first tree, a large birch, stood quite alone,
with a stout erect trunk. A little further down, a small
grove of the same trees was passed, in which every individual had its trunk
bent in the direction of the slope, probably by the weight of the winter's
snow. No birches had been seen on the south face of the pass, nor did the
dwarf Rhododendron and little Andromeda appear till the summit had been
gained, though they were abundant on the northern face. Rhododendron
campanulatum was the next plant observed, forming bushes four or five
feet in height, and growing in large green patches, along with the willow,
which I had found on the top, and the same rose common on the southern
side. About 1200 feet below the summit, that is, about 12,000 feet above the
sea, pine-trees commenced—Pinus excelsa and Picea making their
appearance together, the deodar not till a considerably lower level had been
reached. The trees of silver fir were small, with smaller and shorter leaves
than the common tree of the forests in the outer Himalaya, and were
therefore the true Picea Webbiana of Royle, the more common long-leaved
form being the Picea Pindrow of that author[5].
At an elevation of 11,000 feet, at a rough estimate, we passed the first
deodars, and at the same height cultivation commenced. The first fields
were wheat, now nearly ripe. With the cultivation many plants of lower
elevation began to appear, which had disappeared on the upper part of the
mountain, but many were missed which had been common, and the general
aspect of the vegetation was strikingly altered, the diminution affecting at
once the number, the abundance, and the luxuriance of the plants. Juniper
was frequent till some time after the first corn-fields were passed, and
Gerard's pine was common on the lower part of the descent. Throughout the
whole distance from the crest to the Lipa stream, the road lay along a
ravine, which was very rough and uneven, and covered with numerous and
often very large boulders of granite[6] scattered irregularly over the surface

of the valley. Towards the end of the day's march, we reached the Lipa
stream, which was of large size; and we continued along its right bank,
through a dry fir-wood, till close to the village, when we crossed by a
substantial wooden bridge to enter Lipa, which is situate on a flattish piece
of ground on the left bank of the stream, and very little above its level. It is
a small village, with some cultivation, and a rather odd-looking little
temple, close to which are two fine trees of Juniperus excelsa, the sacred
juniper of the Kunawarees and Tibetans. We were accommodated with a
room close to the temple, which afforded us sufficiently comfortable
quarters.
At the back of the village a thick bank of alluvial clay was observed resting
on the rocks behind, and vast masses of the same extended up the valley for
a considerable distance. This was the first occurrence of a very common
feature of Tibetan valleys, so common as to be almost universal; and as I
shall have many opportunities of referring to it again, and shall find it
necessary to try to give some explanation, or rather to attempt some
conjectures as to its cause, I shall only here pause to observe that the first
time of its occurrence coincided with the first entrance into an extremely
dry climate; the passage of the Werang ridge having effected a greater
change in the aspect of the country than had been seen during very many
previous days—the change from luxuriant forest, not indeed to treelessness,
but to thin and stunted woods.
In the valley of Lipa I met with a species of caper,
LIPA. apparently the same which I had collected at Rampur
August, 1847.
on the Sutlej, on hot rocky places close to the river, but
which had not been met with in the intermediate parts of the journey. This
little prickly shrub I afterwards found to be a common Tibetan plant, which
(like most of its tribe) prefers the hottest and driest exposures, expanding its
large white blossoms on dry stony ground, or among rocks where hardly
any other plant will vegetate.
Lipa is situated at no great distance from the Sutlej, at an elevation of 8000
feet above the level of the sea. The next range to the eastward is that of
Runang, separating the Lipa valley from that of the Ruskalan, on which is
situated the village of Sungnam. As in the former instance, we divided the
passage into two days' journey, encamping on the 20th of August at an

elevation of 12,500 feet. The road began to ascend as soon as we left Lipa.
At first we took the direction of the stream, gradually rising along the face
of a rocky hill composed of a dark clay-slate, which had now taken the
place of the gneiss of the lower part of the Sutlej; but turning to the left, to
ascend the ridge, as soon as its crest had been gained. The surface was
everywhere barren and dried up. A few scattered pine trees occurred at
intervals, but nothing approaching to forest, and the parched stony ground
was quite destitute of any covering of turf or of herbaceous vegetation in
sufficient quantity to attract the notice of the general observer. The ascent
on the ridge was steep and uninterrupted; but as the general direction of the
day's journey was down the range, or towards the Sutlej, we had to pass
from one ridge to the next in succession, across the ravine by which the two
were separated. Here the road was nearly level, and took a long curve in the
receding hollow of the hill, turning round a belt of green which occupied
the middle of the hollow.
On the left hand, above the road, there was not a trace of verdure in the
ravine; but just below the road a small spring burst out from the stony
ground. For three or four yards the banks of the little streamlet were quite
bare, but at about that distance from its source they were fringed with
luxuriant marsh plants, Veronica Beccabunga and Anagallis, rushes, and
several kinds of grasses, which gradually increased in abundance. Within a
hundred yards of its origin a thicket of willows bordered the stream, and a
rich vegetation grew under their shade. From this it would appear that the
barrenness of the country cannot be ascribed to any fault of temperature or
of altitude, but solely to the deficiency of moisture.
On the next ridge beyond this little green spot, the
ASCENT TOWARDS ascent continued steep, over loose shingly soil, among
THE RUNANG
PASS. scattered trees of deodar, and occasionally a fine tree of
August, 1847. Pinus Gerardiana; a spinous Astragalus, and several
species of Artemisia, formed almost all the scanty
vegetation. Higher up there was, in one place, a good view of the Sutlej to
the south-east, with a very lofty snowy mountain beyond. A little further on,
the pines ceased to grow, and no tree but juniper was seen, the vegetation
becoming more and more wretched in appearance, though the same
Astragalus and Artemisiæ predominated. Above 12,000 feet, two or three
alpine species made their appearance; these were a Polygonum, a

Mulgedium, and a little shrubby Potentilla. Except these, however, not one
of the numerous alpine forms observed on the Werang pass two days before
were to be seen.
We encamped at an elevation of 12,500 feet on the north-east slope of the
ridge, overhanging a deep wide valley, in which there were several patches
of cultivation still green, at an elevation which I estimated at about 1000
feet below the level of our tents. By this wide valley, (in the lower part of
which, on its east side, is the village of Kanam,) we were still separated
from the central range on which the Runang pass is situated. The hills all
round had a desolate aspect. They were rounded in outline, and appeared
quite smooth and destitute of herbage, excepting large dark-green patches
of juniper, by which they were mottled. A single stunted tree of Pinus
excelsa stood within a short distance of our encampment, and four or five
hundred feet lower was a small grove, apparently of birch. During the
afternoon a furious west wind blew without intermission. The morning had
been quite calm, but before noon the wind had begun to blow, and gradually
increased in violence till late in the afternoon; after dark it became calm.
The next morning was clear, with scarcely any wind, but the mountains
above us were partly shrouded in mist. For the first time during our journey
we had Zobos furnished for the conveyance of our tents. These animals,
which are mules between a Yak bull and Indian cow, are intermediate
between the two, having most of the peculiarities by which the Yak is
distinguished, though in a much less degree. Their colour varies much,—
black, white, and iron-grey being all common. They have coarse long
shaggy hair, much shorter than in the Yak, a stout rounded body, and the tail
has a small tuft at the end, quite similar in miniature to that of the Yak.
These mules are exceedingly common in Upper Kunawar and Hangarang,
and are much preferred as beasts of burden to the Yak, being more docile,
and less sensitive to climatic influences.
The first half-mile of the ascent to the pass was very
THE RUNANG gentle, till we passed round the hollow of the valley
PASS.
August, 1847. which lay below our encampment. The hill-sides were
covered with stones, among which grew a few tufts of
thyme, a large-leaved saxifrage, a yellow Scorzonera, a curious Polygonum,
and an Oxyria, the same in appearance with that of the Alps of Europe. Two

or three little rills of water trickled across the road, but their margins had no
trace of green. The remainder of the ascent was more rapid, but nowhere
fatiguing, and I reached the top about 9 A.M. Nothing can be conceived more
dreary and bare than the aspect of the pass and the mountains all around.
The hills, which at a distance appeared smooth and rounded, were now seen
to be covered with loose stones piled upon one another, in the crevices of
which a few plants found an attachment for their roots. The elevation was
about 14,500 feet, but there was no appearance of snow. To the north-east a
wide and straight valley ran from the crest, at the end of which, far below
and perhaps eight miles off, was seen the village of Sungnam, beyond
which another lofty range of equally rounded mountains, apparently
smooth, ran parallel to that on which I stood. On this range, at a level, to the
eye sensibly the same as that of the Runang pass, an evident track indicated
the pass of Hangarang, over which lay the continuation of our journey.
I spent a considerable time on the top of the pass, and
VEGETATION. by close searching, in the crevices of the stones,
August, 1847.
especially on the hill which rose to the south-east, I
succeeded in collecting a considerable number of species of plants, though
very much fewer than on the Werang pass two days before. From our
morning's camp to the top of the pass the whole number of species which I
met with was only forty-six, not half of which were observed on the
summit. The number gathered on the former pass was nearly three times as
great. It must not be forgotten, however, in comparing the two ranges, that
the Werang pass is 1300 feet lower than that of Runang, and ought
therefore, independent of climate, to be more productive. The species which
were observed for the first time on the summit of the Runang pass were not
more than six, and were all forms which I have since found to be abundant
throughout the higher parts of Tibet. A little willow, creeping among the
stones, and scarcely more luxuriant than Salix herbacea, was the only
shrubby plant. The others were Oxytropis chiliophylla, Biebersteinia odora,
a Draba, Lamium rhomboideum of Bentham, and a species of rhubarb, of
which I found only a few leaves and one or two panicles, from which the
ripe fruit had nearly fallen away.
The descent from the pass to Sungnam was even more barren and desolate
than the other side. The valley was open and almost straight, and the slope
gradual. Till nearly half-way not a drop of water occurred on the road, and

for miles almost the only vegetation on the hill-sides was an erect branched
Polygonum, never more than a foot in height. At an elevation of about
10,000 feet, a few deodars occurred, all miserably stunted in height, though
often with trunks of considerable diameter. Gerard's pine, and the ash of
Tibet, also appeared a little lower, but in very small numbers. During the
greater part of the descent, the white houses of Sungnam were in sight, to
all appearance at the end of the valley down which we were proceeding; but
when near the bottom, we discovered that we were still separated from them
by a wide and level plain, that of the Ruskalan river. On the opposite side of
this plain, on the side of a hill just sufficiently high to terminate the vista
down the valley by which we descended from the pass, stands the town of
Sungnam; while the cultivated lands, which form a wide belt, scarcely
higher than the level of the river, were entirely out of sight till we arrived
close to the precipitous bank parallel to the river. Here the descent was
abrupt to the bed of the Ruskalan. The bank was alluvial, with enormous
boulders, and was covered with tufts of Ephedra, a remarkable leafless
plant with rod-like branches, which is abundant in every part of northern
Tibet, especially in the driest and hottest exposures. It extends also
occasionally into the partially rainy district, being found in Kunawar nearly
as far west as the bridge of Wangtu.
Sungnam is one of the principal places of Kunawar,
SUNGNAM. dividing with Kanam, which we did not visit, the claim
August, 1847.
to be the principal seat in the Sutlej valley of the
Buddhist religion. It contains numerous temples and monasteries, with also
a considerable industrial population. Cultivation occupies a great part of the
valley, and extends up the course of the stream to a considerable distance.
The level tract along the river has in many places a breadth of nearly a
quarter of a mile, and the town occupies a ridge on the mountain side, to
which a gently-sloping road leads from the bridge by which we crossed the
Ruskalan.
The elevation of Sungnam above the level of the sea is 9000 feet. Still the
vine thrives well, the steep slopes facing the river being covered with
vineyards: the grapes were not yet ripe. The principal fruit-trees are apricots
and apples. Willows and poplars are also frequent in the village; a new
species of the latter being for the first time observed, with leaves white and

downy underneath, which appears in no way to differ from Populus alba,
the common white poplar of Europe.

CHAPTER IV.
Hangarang ridge separates Kunawar from Piti—Ascent to Hangarang Pass—Alluvial deposit—Steep
ascent—View of valley—Limestone rocks—Caragana versicolor, or Dama—Camp at 14,000 feet
—Top of pass—View from pass—Vegetation of summit—Descent to Hango—Cultivation round
the village—Luxuriant wild plants—Road to Lio—Crambe—Ravine of Piti river—Lio—Bridge
over Piti river—Ascent to Nako—Nako—Cultivation of the village—Buddhist temple—
Transported blocks—Chango—Changar—Stopped by villagers on Chinese frontier—Natural
bridge—Kyuri—Alluvium—Clay deposit with shells—Lari—Ramifications of mountain ranges—
Alluvial platforms—Pok—Dankar—Lara—Rangrig—Upper part of Piti—Climate—Saline
exudations

The Hangarang ridge, as we may conveniently call that mountain range on
which the pass of Hangarang is situated, forms the boundary between the
districts of Kunawar and Hangarang. As this range terminates at or close to
the point where the Sutlej is joined by the Piti river, this division is
geographically convenient. It has also a marked physical signification,
forming the absolute limit of the deodar and Gerard's pine; and indeed, if
we except the juniper, of all tree vegetation.
On the 22nd of August, our party left Sungnam to ascend towards the
Hangarang pass, encamping, as on the two previous occasions, on the upper
part of the ascent, so as to get to the summit of the pass at an early hour
next day. Our road lay up a narrow ravine, through which a small stream
descended from the vicinity of the Hangarang pass, to join the Ruskalan
immediately below Sungnam. We followed for a long time the course of
this rivulet, so that the ascent was by no means fatiguing. A very few
stunted deodars, and a single tree of Pinus Gerardiana, were the only trees
met with. A little shrubby vegetation was now and then seen, consisting of
an ash, rose, Colutea, Lonicera, and Spiræa. The banks of the ravine were
everywhere composed of a conglomerate of angular stones, in general

imbedded in soft clay, though the matrix was not unfrequently calcareous,
and in several places even composed of crystalline carbonate of lime.
The hard calcareous conglomerates are, I think, of
BEDS OF different origin from the clayey ones. Indeed, I was
CONGLOMERATE.
August, 1847. induced to believe from what I saw in the
neighbourhood of Sungnam, and occasionally in other
districts (as I shall have again occasion to notice), that the calcareous
conglomerates, which only occur in the neighbourhood of the limestone
formation, and therefore where calcareous springs are common, are formed
by the infiltration of water containing lime among beds of loose shingle
which have accumulated along the base of the steep hills. These calcareous
conglomerates are quite local, never very extensive, and are often covered
with an incrustation of lime, showing the continued existence of the
calcareous springs, by the action of which I suppose them to have been
formed.
The clay beds, on the other hand, are continuous and
ALLUVIAL uniform in appearance. They vary much in thickness,
CONGLOMERATE.
August, 1847. but are on the whole much thicker and more remarkable
in the upper part of the ravine, where (on the east side)
a mass of clay, not less than five or six hundred feet in thickness, has
accumulated, forming steep sloping or quite perpendicular banks, which at
the top are worn away into pinnacles, and excavated into deep grooves and
hollows, I presume by the action of melting snow. The fragments of rock
which it contained were all angular, or at most a very little worn at the
edges.
Five or six miles from Sungnam, the road left the course of the ravine, and
began rapidly to ascend the steep spur which bounded it on the left. At first
we followed a fissure in the clay conglomerate, which still had a thickness
of nearly two hundred feet. Above, the ridge was rocky and very steep.
When we had attained a sufficient height to overlook the valley by which
we had ascended from Sungnam, I was able to estimate better than while in
the ravine, the extent of the clay deposit. It was now seen to occupy both
sides of the valley, and to be pretty equally diffused throughout, but
certainly thicker on the left or eastern side,—in the upper part at least, for
low down, just behind Sungnam, it capped a round sloping hill of

considerable elevation to the right of the little streamlet and of the road. The
valley did not narrow at the lower extremity, where it debouched into that
of the Ruskalan, so much as to give any reason for supposing that it could
have been closed by a barrier, so as to form a lake. Indeed, the absolute
elevation of the conglomerate was so great at the upper end of the valley,
that it would be necessary to suppose a barrier several thousand feet above
the bed of the Ruskalan to produce such an effect. The greater thickness of
the conglomerate in the upper part of the ravine, and the almost complete
angularity of the fragments, were equally opposed to such a view. Nor was I
able to form any probable conjecture as to the mode in which these
accumulations had been formed.
In the earlier part of the day's journey, the rock, where
ROCKS OF exposed, was invariably clay-slate, not different in
HANGARANG.
August, 1847. appearance from that which, commencing at Lipa, had
been observed on every part of the Runang ridge. It
dipped generally at a high angle, but was often much contorted. In the upper
part of the ravine, thick beds of a hard cherty quartz rock alternated with the
slate; and in the course of the last steep ascent, at an elevation of about
13,500 feet, the first limestone was observed. It was of a dark blue colour,
very hard, coarsely stratified, and much veined with white calcareous spar.
It seemed to dip at a high angle towards the north-east.
The ridge by which we ascended was quite bare of trees and exceedingly
barren, producing very little vegetation of any sort, and no novelty, till we
had almost attained an elevation of 14,000 feet. We then observed bushes of
a species of Caragana (C. versicolor), the Dama of the Tibetans, a very
curious stunted shrub, which is very extensively distributed at elevations
which no other woody plants attain, and which, therefore, is much prized
and extensively used as fuel. I had not met with it before, nor does it appear
to extend at all into the wooded region of the Himalaya. We encamped on a
flat piece of ground at 14,000 feet. Notwithstanding the elevation, the heat
of the sun was very great during the day, but the evening and night were
extremely cold.
Early next morning a short steep ascent of about 800
HANGARANG feet brought us to the top of the pass, which has an
PASS.
August, 1847. elevation of 14,800 feet above the sea. The Dama, in

green patches from two to four feet in diameter, was abundant till near the
summit. The pass occupies a hollow in the ridge, which rises considerably
on both sides. To the north-west, on the northern exposure, there was at a
short distance one small patch of snow, from which the pass and
surrounding mountains were otherwise quite free. No remarkable difficulty
of breathing was experienced by any of the party, except immediately after
any exertion. The ascent was latterly so steep, that it was necessary to stop
frequently to take breath, and the pulse was found to be very considerably
accelerated when counted immediately after walking. There was, however,
a great difference according to the individual; in one case it rose as high as
136; but a few minutes' rest restored it nearly to the usual standard.
At the crest of the pass, the rock was a hard bluish-grey limestone, traversed
in every direction by numerous crystalline veins. I ascended the hill to the
south-east, to an elevation of nearly 16,000 feet, which was within a few
hundred feet of the summit. At that height it was composed of a mass of
loose fragments of black slate, perfectly moveable, and so steep, that it was
difficult to progress in an upward direction. Vegetation had almost
disappeared; more, however, from the moveable shingly soil than from the
elevation attained, for wherever a solid rock peeped out, straggling plants
still lingered; the rhubarb, Biebersteinia, a minute saxifrage, and a yellow
lichen, were the species which attained the greatest altitude.
The view from the summit of the pass, and the steep hill above it, was
extensive, but very desolate. In the direction of our previous journey, the
rounded outline of the Runang range bounded the view, but in front a much
wider and more diversified extent of country was embraced. To the
eastward, the lofty mountain of Porgyul was seen almost to its base; its
upper part a magnificent mass of snow, the summit being upwards of
22,000 feet in height. To the north of Porgyul, where the valley of the Piti
river allowed the distant mountains to be seen, a succession of ranges rose
one beyond another, the furthest evidently at a great distance, and covered
with heavy snow[7].
The vegetation at the summit of the ridge was even more scanty than on the
Runang pass. There was, however, more novelty in species than I had met
with there. A grass, several saxifrages, Potentillæ and Seda, a little
Thermopsis, an Anemone, and a beautiful Delphinium (D. Brunonianum,

Royle), were the new species observed; and these, I believe, (as was indeed
to be expected from the minuteness with which the country had been
investigated by Dr. Royle's collectors,) were all previously described
species.
From the pass the descent was pretty steep all the way
HANGO. to Hango, a small village, elevated 11,500 feet. The
August, 1847.
road lay on the side of a ravine, keeping the hills on the
left hand, and the channel of the stream on the right. The Dama, which had
disappeared at the summit, was again plentiful on the northern slope; and a
shrubby species of Potentilla, quite new to me, was exceedingly common.
Otherwise, little change was visible. The road was good, but the hills were
dry and stony.
The village of Hango, notwithstanding its great elevation, has a
considerable extent of cultivation, though I think the corn was less luxuriant
than at lower levels. The wheat was still green, and rather scanty, a good
deal of a wild oat (perhaps Avena fatua) being mixed with it; but the barley
was stronger and more productive. There was also a number of fields of
Hordeum Ægiceras, that curious awnless monstrous barley, which seems
peculiar to the higher regions of Tibet, where it is very frequently
cultivated. This grain was much further advanced than the wheat, being
nearly ripe. The arable lands of Hango are nearly destitute of trees, a few
willows being the only arboreous vegetation. They are abundantly supplied
with water, circulating in copious rills among the different fields, which are
disposed in terraces one above another, faced by walls about three feet in
height. On the margins of the cultivation, stimulated by the moisture
derived from the irrigation, there was a very abundant growth of shrubs,
and of luxuriant herbaceous plants. The gooseberry, Hippophaë, and rose,
were the shrubs, and several large Umbelliferæ, one of which was closely
allied to the Assafœtida, a tall Thalictrum, a yellow-flowered Medicago,
Verbascum Thapsus, two species of thistle, the common henbane, dock,
mint, Plantago, and various species of Artemisia, were the most common
herbaceous plants.
On the 24th of August we proceeded to Lio, a village
HANGO VALLEY. on the right or west bank of the Piti river. The road
August, 1847.
crosses the small stream which runs past Hango, a little

below the village, and gradually ascends the slope of the hill on its left
bank. Close to the stream there is a bank of clayey alluvium, with stones,
and traces of it may be seen at intervals for some distance down the valley,
but it is nowhere of any great thickness. The hill along which the road lay
was composed of a cherty sandstone of a light-blue colour, often nearly
white; in fragments, and especially when pulverized, it was quite so; and
being extremely brittle, the slopes were covered with fine white dust, the
glare of which, in the bright sunshine, was very unpleasant. On this gravelly
ascent the vegetation was equally scanty, and much the same in character as
at moderate elevations on the two previous days; a large thistle, species of
Artemisia, Chenopodiaceæ, and a spinous Astragalus, being the most
abundant plants.
The road continued to ascend gently for about half a mile, rapidly
increasing its height above the stream, which had a considerable slope. The
next two miles were tolerably level, over a good but stony road, at an
elevation a little under 12,000 feet. A species of Crambe, with a long
fusiform root, smelling somewhat like a turnip, was common along this part
of the road. The young leaves of this plant are used by the Tibetans as a pot-
herb, and are said to be well-flavoured. A species of currant (R.
glandulosum), with viscid, glandular, very aromatic-smelling leaves, was
also met with; its fruit, now ripe, had a sweetish taste, but no flavour. It is a
common Tibetan species, extending on the Indus as low down as 6500 feet.
An abrupt descent followed, of not less than seven or
THE PITI RIVER. eight hundred feet, into a wide steeply-sloping valley,
August, 1847.
descending from the north to join that of Hango. On the
surface of this hollow, the road passed among a multitude of large angular
boulders of limestone, irregularly scattered over the surface. This limestone
was much like that of the Hangarang pass, and as it nowhere occurred in
situ on the road, the boulders must have come from the hills on the upper
part of the lateral ravine. A small spring of water and a solitary willow
marked the centre of the valley, beyond which the road again ascended
slightly, till on rounding a corner, the Piti river came into view, at the
bottom of a most remarkable rocky ravine. Full in front, just beyond the
river, was a scarped rock of great height; it was of a dark grey colour, and
was traversed in every direction by immense white veins. Round this

precipice, which seemed to project beyond the general mass, the river swept
in a deep curve, of which the convexity was towards me.
The mountains on the right bank of the river, which formed the termination
of the range on which I stood, seemed not less steep than those opposite, for
the road, instead of passing round them without change of level, rose
rapidly as it turned to the left, till it had attained an elevation of at least
12,000 feet, at which height it wound among precipitous rocks of hard dark
slate, covered with bushes of Ephedra, and scattered trees of Juniperus
excelsa. When fairly round the rocky projecting range, the village of Lio
was discovered more than 2000 feet below, in a narrow ravine, on the bank
of a small stream descending from the north-west, and close to its junction
with the Piti river. The descent was very abrupt, in a rocky ravine among
large boulders, partly of slate, partly of granite. This rock occurred in thick
veins in the clay-slate, most abundantly on the lower part of the precipices
which rose on the left hand during the descent.
Lio, at an elevation of 9600 feet above the sea, is a
LIO. considerable village, with a large tract of cultivation,
August, 1847.
disposed in terraces from three to six feet above one
another. The crops of wheat and barley had been all cut, but there were
many fields of buckwheat in full flower, and of millet (Panicum miliaceum)
still quite green. Numerous apricot-trees, from which the fruit had long
been gathered, were interspersed among the cultivated lands. Surrounded on
all sides by very precipitous mountains, which reflect the sun's rays, Lio
appears to enjoy a great amount of heat, and the weeds which bordered the
corn-fields were rank and abundant, and included many species which had
not been seen at the higher villages. Salvia glutinosa, almost the only
remaining Simla plant, burdock, sow-thistle, lucerne, and melilot, were the
commonest weeds. A little Cuscuta was common on these latter. No tree of
any kind occurred in the valley, nor on the slopes on either side. Elevation
could not be the cause of this, the height being much lower than the line of
upper limit of tree vegetation in the outer Himalaya, and the temperature of
the valley, as was evident from the kinds of grain cultivated, very much
greater than it would have been at the same level, in the more rainy climates
nearer the plains of India.

The ravine through which the Lio stream runs is narrow and rocky, and
contains a great number of transported blocks of various sizes, scattered
irregularly over the surface. Close to the village there is a curious isolated
rock, separated by the stream from the mountain mass with which it has
evidently once been connected.
On the 25th of August we crossed the Piti river, a little
CROSS THE PITI above Lio, and ascended to the village of Nako, on a
RIVER.
August, 1847. very steep ridge, which descended from the great
mountain Porgyul. After leaving the cultivated lands of
Lio, which extend for half a mile from the upper part of the village, we
ascended the right bank of the Piti river for nearly a mile, to a bridge, by
which it is crossed. The river ran here in an extremely narrow ravine,
precipitous mountains rising on either side. Its banks were steep, and
covered with loose shingle, the débris of the precipices above. The stream is
of considerable size, but much inferior to the Sutlej where we had last
observed it close at hand, though I believe it is nearly as large as that river,
at the point of junction of the two. The Piti runs in this part of its course
with great rapidity, and is probably of considerable depth.
The bridge was situated at a bend of the river, where the
ASCENT TO NAKO. rocky banks contract more than usual. It was similar in
August, 1847.
structure to that over the Sutlej at Wangtu, but much
smaller, and in so dilapidated a state, that it could scarcely be expected to
last another year. The ascent to Nako was throughout steep, the difference
of elevation being about 2500 feet, and the distance not more than two
miles and a half. When at a sufficient height above the narrow dell in which
the Piti runs, a good view was obtained of the mountains by which we were
surrounded, which rose on all sides in rugged precipices. The steepness of
the cliffs allowed their geological structure to be well seen. The
fundamental rock, wherever I saw it, appeared to be clay-slate, sometimes
passing into chert or quartzy sandstone. This basal rock was everywhere
traversed by innumerable veins of quartz and granite, which exhibited no
signs of parallelism, but ramified in every direction. These veins were often
of great thickness. Not unfrequently, indeed, the mass of granite much
exceeded the slaty beds between which it was interposed; but its connection
with other veins of more moderate size rendered it evident that it had been
injected into the slate.

Behind the village of Lio a thick deposit of alluvial clay was discernible,
which seemed to suggest the idea of the valley having formerly been a lake;
and at no place where I had seen these clayey accumulations was this
hypothesis so plausible, for the precipices south of the junction of the Lio
stream, rose almost perpendicularly for more than 1000 feet above the Piti
river, and approached so close to one another, that their disruption was at
least a possible contingency.
The slopes, as we ascended, were covered with boulders of granite in
countless profusion, and the vegetation was extremely scanty, Ephedra
being the most abundant plant observed. On the upper part of the ascent the
road crossed a little streamlet, which was conducted in an artificial channel
to irrigate a few fields of wheat. The margins of this little stream, and a belt
a few feet in width on both sides, where the ground was swampy, were
covered with a dense thicket of Hippophaë and rose-bushes, among which
grew thickly and luxuriantly a scandent Clematis, and Rubia cordifolia,
mint, dock, and thistles. The number of species altogether was scarcely
more than a dozen, but the brilliant green formed so delightful a contrast
with the prevailing monotony, that what in a more fertile country would
have been passed as a mere thicket of thorns, to my eyes appeared a most
beautiful grove of graceful shrubs; and I lingered in the swampy ground, till
I had traversed it repeatedly in every direction, and completely exhausted
the flora.
Nako is a smaller village than Lio, and from its
NAKO. elevation (12,000 feet) has no fruit-trees; but at the base
August, 1847.
of the cultivation, which is extensive, there was a copse
of willows and poplars. The predominant crop was barley, now quite ripe,
and being cut; the species was the common one, not H. Ægiceras, but the
ears were very short, and the return must, I should think, have been very
small. There was abundance of water, which ran in every direction through
the fields. The little streamlets had a narrow belt of green on their margins,
consisting of small grasses, several gentians, and Potentillæ, one of which I
could not distinguish from P. anserina, a Polygonum very like P. viviparum,
and, most remarkable of all, a small orchideous plant, which seemed to be a
species of Herminium.

At Nako, we had a most satisfactory proof of the little
BUDDHIST estimation in which the lamas, or priests of the
TEMPLES.
August, 1847. Buddhist religion, hold their religious buildings, the
apartments furnished to us in the village being the
different parts of the temple, surrounded with full-sized figures of the
different incarnations of Buddha, in sitting posture, each with his hands in
the position which is conventionally used to indicate the individual. The
remarkable forms and system of the Buddhist religion, as practised in
Kunawar and Ladak, have been so often and accurately described, that it
would be useless for me to attempt to give any account of what I could,
from want of previous knowledge, very imperfectly understand, and from
my other occupations scarcely at all inquire into. The gradual transition, in
ascending the Sutlej, from Hinduism to Buddhism, is very remarkable, and
not the less so because it is accompanied by an equally gradual change in
the physical aspect of the inhabitants, the Hindus of the lower Sutlej
appearing to pass by insensible gradations as we advance from village to
village, till at last we arrive at a pure Tartar population. The people of upper
Piti have quite the Tartar physiognomy, the small stature and stout build of
the inhabitants of Ladak, to whom also they closely approximate in dress.
To what extent mere climatic influences may cause these differences, and
how far they depend on an intermixture of races, I do not pretend to decide.
It is impossible, however, to avoid being struck by the coincidence between
these physical and moral changes in the human race, and the gradual
alteration in the forms of the vegetable world, which are observable as we
advance from a wet to a dry climate.
From Nako we proceeded, on the 26th of August,
PORGYUL nearly due north, to Chango, about ten miles up the Piti
August, 1847.
valley. Nako is situated on the shoulder of the great
mountain Porgyul, which rises to a height of 10,000 feet above that village,
and Chango is at the very extremity of a long spur given off by that
mountain further east: it is therefore separated from the Nako spur by a
valley of considerable size, which descends abruptly towards the Piti river.
Our road lay in a long sweep round the deep bay formed by this valley, at
an elevation not lower than that of Nako, crossing in the most receding part
a foaming torrent which descends from the perpetual snows of the mountain
behind. Half a mile from Nako, and scarcely lower than that place, is a

patch of cultivation, watered, as I was surprised to find, by a conduit
brought more than a mile along the side of the hill from the stream which
occupies the mid-valley; the water of which was collected into several
ponds, one above another, in which it was kept in reserve till required for
irrigation. The crops cultivated were buckwheat and a species of Brassica,
both in flower. A number of poplars and willows were planted along the
stream, but no fruit-trees.
Beyond this cultivated tract, the road, till we reached
ANGULAR Chango, was entirely barren. For several miles we
BOULDERS.
August, 1847. continued to pass through a most extraordinary
accumulation of transported blocks, scattered
irregularly on the gently sloping sides of the mountains. They covered a
very large area, and occurred in such almost incredible profusion, that the
road seemed to lie in a hollow among fragments of rock on all sides. They
were all angular; and at so considerable an elevation as 12,000 feet, I have
now no hesitation in referring them to glacier action. The rock in situ was
clay-slate, with copious granite veins, and the boulders were in general the
same. In one place, however, a dark mica-slate, with large crystals of
cyanite, was the predominating rock of the erratic blocks, which no doubt
might have been traced to its source in the ravine above, as I nowhere saw it
in situ during the day.
After passing the torrent which occupies the centre of the valley, the road
very gradually approaches the Piti river, from which it had at first receded
considerably. We could now observe that the mountains which overhung the
river in this part of its course were much less precipitous, and the valley
wider and more open, than around Lio. Alluvial beds of great thickness
everywhere rested on the ancient rocks, assuming the most diversified
forms, but in general thicker and higher on the sides of the hills, at some
distance from the river, than in the centre of the valley. About a mile and a
half from Chango, the road began to descend rather rapidly along a dry
water-course filled with huge boulders. It then crossed a stream, which had
cut for itself a very deep channel through the alluvial conglomerate, and
ascended slightly to the village of Chango. Close to the last stream was a
bed of very fine clay, which had a thickness of at least twenty-five feet, and
did not appear to contain any stones, pebbles, or fragments of rock. This
clay had quite a different appearance from the alluvial conglomerate, which

covered it, without appearing to pass into it. It occurred extensively in
several places in the neighbourhood of Chango, and had entirely the
appearance of having been deposited in a very tranquil lake, while the
alluvium which rested upon it, and, therefore, was of more recent
formation, contained so many fragments of rock, all seemingly angular, that
its origin could scarcely be assigned to deposition under water, unless under
some very peculiar circumstances.
Chango is situated in the middle of an open, nearly
CHANGO. level tract of considerable size, which slopes very
August, 1847.
gently towards the Piti river. The cultivation is
extensive, water being more than usually abundant, so that much of the
ground is swampy from its waste, and covered with tufts of a small Iris and
a species of Equisetum. The barley had been all cut, as well as the beans,
which are here grown to some extent. Buckwheat and rape-seed (a species
of Brassica) were still in flower, and the millet quite green. Apricot-trees
were still common, though the elevation of Chango is about 10,500 feet.
The village lies nearly opposite to Shialkar, but separated from it by the Piti
river, which, at the bridge of that place, is elevated exactly 10,000 feet
above the level of the sea.
A little way above Shialkar and Chango, two very
ZUNGSAM RIVER. considerable rivers unite to form the Piti river. The
August, 1847.
larger of these, descending from the north-west, is
known by the same name. The other, which flows from the north-east, may
be called the Parang river, by which name it is known in the upper part of
its course; lower down, it seems to be usually called Zungsam. The direct
road from Hangarang to the Indus lies up this river, which unfortunately
flows for several days' journey through districts which are included within
the Chinese frontier. It was our wish to proceed by the most expeditious
route, and at the same time that nearest the line of boundary, to Hanle. It
was, therefore, our object to effect, if possible, a passage up the Zungsam
river, though, as we knew that Captain Gerard and M. Jacquemont had both
been stopped upon the frontier, we had no reason to anticipate any more
favourable result.
We therefore took, on leaving Chango, a north-easterly direction,
proceeding, on the 27th of August, to a village on the left bank of the

Parang or Zungsam river, called Changar, the same place which, by Gerard
and Jacquemont, is named Changrezing. Leaving the cultivated lands of
Chango, and crossing the stream which skirts the plain, we immediately
commenced a steep zigzag ascent over a barren shingly road, to the heights
which overhang the village to the north-east. After a very fatiguing climb of
not less than 1300 feet, we attained the summit of the ridge, and advanced
along it for some distance without much change of level, but still gradually
ascending among low-topped gravelly hills. A very steep ascent followed to
the summit of the pass, which was called Changrang La[8], and could not be
much under 13,000 feet. The whole ascent was extremely barren, the arid
slopes producing a minimum of vegetation. A fleshy Cruciferous plant, with
a strong pungent taste not unlike horse-radish (Christolea of Decaisne in
Jacquemont), a fine Nepeta (N. floccosa, Benth.), and a little Stipa, were the
only novelties; and these, with the Ephedra, a little Lactuca, an aromatic
species of Chenopodium (C. Botrys), the Tibetan Euphorbia, and a shrubby
white-flowered spinous Astragalus, were almost all the plants observed.
From the summit of the pass, the road descended
CHANGAR.
August, 1847.
abruptly into a deep ravine, which originated in a
snowy mountain to the south. At the bottom of this
ravine, between rocky precipitous banks, ran a considerable torrent, which
was crossed by a very frail wooden bridge. Immediately after crossing, the
road began to ascend rapidly, rising to an elevation only a few hundred feet
lower than the pass from which we had descended, after which, half a mile
of nearly level road brought us to our camp at Changar, a small village on a
stony hill, of which only one house seemed habitable. A few fields of
barley, not yet ripe, separated our tents from the village; these were irrigated
by a small streamlet, whose source was a spring on the rocky hill-side a few
hundred yards off, shaded by a few rose-bushes and a small clump of
juniper-trees.
We remained one day stationary at Changar, to complete some
arrangements which were required previous to our leaving the district of
Hangarang; and on the 29th we proceeded to ascend the valley of the
Zungsam river, intending, if no obstacles were offered, to follow its course
and the regular road to Hanle; but in case of obstruction, which there was
every reason to apprehend, to adopt the plan which had been already
followed both by Gerard and Jacquemont, of crossing the river, encamping

on its north bank, and proceeding in a westerly direction along the course of
the Piti river to the Parang pass, in which direction we could effect a
passage to Hanle without the necessity of entering on the territories under
Chinese control.
Our road, for about three miles, was undulating, with
BLACK CURRANT. rather a tendency to descend, but without any abrupt
August, 1847.
change of level. It lay along the gently sloping side of
the ridge, and crossed a good many little ravines. To the right was the crest
of the ridge; to the left, the valley of the Zungsam river, which was nearly
2000 feet below, the slope being very precipitous. In many of the ravines,
where there was a stream of water, there was a dense jungle of shrubs,
which contrasted strongly with the barrenness of the hills. A willow, rose,
Lonicera, a shrubby Astragalus, an Artemisia, a Potentilla of large size, and
a black currant, closely resembling that of our gardens, were the principal
shrubs; and the herbaceous vegetation was the same as in similar places
since entering the Tibetan region. The currant, which occurred here for the
first time, was quite a new species: its ripe fruit was quite black, and had the
size and flavour of the common black currant, with, however, a
considerable degree of acidity.
About three miles from Changar, an abrupt descent led from the platform on
which we had been travelling, to the level of the banks of the river, more
than 1000 feet lower. The path by which we descended was steep, rocky,
and difficult. The rock was still clay-slate, with granite veins. The granite in
general very much exceeded in quantity the rock into which it had been
injected, as was well seen on several precipitous cliffs along the course of
the stream, in which the stratification of the slaty rock and the ramifications
of the granite could be examined in detail. The banks of the river were
adorned with a species of Myricaria, a small tree, with very delicate
graceful foliage and beautiful rose-coloured flowers.
On reaching the small streamlet which forms the
CHINESE frontier of the Chinese dominions, we found, as indeed
FRONTIER.
August, 1847. we expected, that there was no intention of permitting
us to proceed by the direct road to Hanle; and all
arguments to induce a compliance with our wish proving ineffectual, we
agreed to take the route up the Piti river by Dankar, and were then permitted

to proceed about a mile, to the village of Kyuri, where we encamped for the
day. I have now no doubt that if we had resolutely advanced, no serious
opposition to our progress would have been made; but our instructions were
so precise that we should not have been justified in using the smallest
degree of force, or incurring any risk of a collision.

To reach Kyuri[9], we crossed the Zungsam river by a very remarkable
natural bridge, composed of an enormous block of granite, which has in
some way been placed across the stream, at a spot where it is much
contracted in width, flowing in a deep rocky fissure from fifteen to twenty-
five feet in width, evidently of great depth. At this point a considerable
number of boulders of large size are piled on both banks, of which the one
that spans the channel is eighty-five feet in length and probably not less
than forty in width and twenty in depth; it is placed obliquely across the
stream, its left or southern extremity being lower, and inclined at so
considerable an angle that the passage is one of some difficulty for horses
and loaded cattle, though for men, with ordinary care, it is quite easy. The
higher end is so much elevated above the surface on which it rests, that a
rudely constructed stair of stones is necessary to enable travellers to
descend.
Our encamping ground at Kyuri was on a gently
KYURI.
August, 1847.
sloping barren plain, seven or eight hundred feet above
the valley of the Zungsam, and was reached by a short
steep ascent from the bridge. There was no cultivation; but about a mile to
the east, a long sloping tract of alluvium interposed between the mountains
and the river was covered with green fields, though it had only two houses
and not a single tree. Alluvium abounded in every direction, forming steep
sloping banks, often much worn away by running water, and occasionally
from two to three hundred feet in thickness. The plain on which we were
encamped was also of recent origin; it consisted of a fine clay, curiously
worn into cliffs and narrow ridges. A few layers of fine sand were included
in the clay, and by a careful search I found three or four small fresh-water
shells in the clay, belonging to at least two species—one a Lymnæa, the
other a Planorbis. The shells were, however, very scarce, and all found near
one spot, nor did any other portion of the deposit seem fossiliferous. The
clay was in front of and below our encampment, and was covered by coarse
alluvial conglomerate.

The road up the valley of the Parang river being
THE ROAD tabooed to us by the jealousy of the Chinese
REJOINS THE PITI
VALLEY. Government, it became necessary to make a very
August, 1847. considerable détour, no practicable road being known
in the mountains north of Piti, between that which we
were thus prevented from following, and the Parang pass, to reach which
we had to make five or six marches up the Piti river before turning to the
north. On leaving Kyuri, on the 30th of August, we ascended gently on a
bare gravelly hill for several hundred feet, and then proceeded for two miles
to the westward, along the steep side of the mountain. The road was rocky
and very barren, the caper and an Astragalus being almost the only plants
seen. We then descended rapidly, so as to reach the bank of the Piti river, at
the place where it makes its great bend and assumes a southerly direction.
Here it is joined by the Giu (Gumdo of Jacquemont), a considerable stream,
which has its source in the lofty and inaccessible range to the north. This
torrent had excavated a deep channel in the alluvial beds, which were
composed of alternations of coarse incoherent conglomerate and fine clay.
In this ravine, which sheltered them from the bleak winds of the more
exposed slopes, I found a luxuriant growth of shrubs; of which the
commonest forms were the rose, ash, Colutea, Rhamnus, Myricaria,
Capparis, Ephedra, and Artemisiæ. As soon as the stream was passed, a
steep ascent commenced, but the luxuriant vegetation at once disappeared,
and the road was as barren, dusty, and stony as usual. We ascended only to
descend again, and encamped on a small level spot forty or fifty feet above
the Piti river, destitute of cultivation or inhabitants, but known to the people
of the district by the name of Huling.
On our next day's journey, the country at first presented the same general
character. The mountains along the road were lofty and rugged, and sloped
steeply to the river. A mass of alluvial deposit generally rested on their
bases, and the road lay at no great distance above the river, rising a few
hundred feet to pass over the spurs, and again descending on their western
sides. The steep slopes were in several places covered with an incrustation
of hard angular breccia, with a calcareous matrix, the origin of which I
conceive to have been the same as that of the breccia noticed in the vicinity
of Sungnam. Across the river there was a considerable tract of level ground,
covered with cultivation surrounding a small village, with a few poplar and

willow trees; but the left bank, on which we travelled, was entirely barren.
Nearly opposite this village, the bank of the river becoming steep and
precipitous, we ascended about a thousand feet, and continued at that
elevation till the difficulty was passed, after which we returned to the river-
side. At this elevation two or three springs broke out on the steep face of the
hill, and, trickling down among the rocks below, promoted the growth of a
few willows and rose-bushes, and a small thicket of Hippophaë. Round the
springs the ground was covered with a slight saline exudation.
The village of Lari, at which we encamped, is elevated
LARI. 11,200 feet. It occupies a large extent of alluvial
August, 1847.
surface, sloping at a very small angle from the base of
the mountains to the river, at a place where a stream issued from among the
mountains. The cultivated lands are extensive, but very bare of trees when
compared with the villages in Kunawar, or even in Hangarang. One apricot-
tree only could be seen in the village lands, but there were still a few
willows and poplars. The flora of the cultivated tracts had not altered. The
little Iris, first seen at Chango, was very common, and the gentians,
Potentillæ, Astragali, and other small plants, were the same as had been
common since crossing the Hangarang pass; the season, however, was so
far advanced, that much of the luxuriant vegetation had withered away. The
crops of wheat and barley were quite ripe, and had been partly cut; but a
few fields of millet were still green.
In the neighbourhood of Lari, the Piti valley is
MOUNTAINS OF considerably more open than lower down. It had,
PITI.
August, 1847. indeed, been gradually expanding since we joined it at
Lio. The mountains now recede considerably from the
river, a long sloping surface of alluvium being interposed, which is at one
time largely developed on the north side of the river, in which case the
southern spur generally projects. A little further on, the northern mountains
send down a projecting spur, and an open tract is seen to the south. The
mountains behind the alluvial platforms rise very abruptly, and present
towards the plain, steep, almost perpendicular slopes, which, from the
peculiar nature of the rock, a very fragile slate, are covered by a steeply-
sloping mass of débris almost to the top. This talus, indeed, on some of the
cliffs behind Lari, seems to rise to the very summit of the ridges.

It is not easy to convey an idea in words of the mode in which these
mountains are arranged, unless it is recollected that it is an universal rule
that all mountains are ramifications of an axis, giving off branches on both
sides, and that each branch is again divided in a similar manner, till the
ultimate divisions are arrived at. All mountainous districts are in this respect
similar to one another, and differ principally in the proportion borne by the
altitude to the superficial extent of the ranges of which they are composed.
An examination of the map will show that the axis of the range which lies
north of the Piti valley, passes through the Parang pass, and in fact occupies
the midway between the Piti and Parang rivers, terminating in the great
bend of the latter, to the east of its junction with the Piti. The whole of this
range is of great altitude, and it seems to rise in elevation to the eastward,
no passage being known further east than the Parang pass. The primary
branches of this chain, descending towards the Piti valley, are separated by
considerable tributaries which discharge themselves into that river. In
general, these lateral streams have, in the lower part of their course, very
rugged rocky channels, but they rise rapidly, and, at a distance of a few
miles from the main river, their ravines expand into open valleys, three or
four thousand feet above its level. The ramifications of the primary
branches are, as might be expected, in their upper part concealed among the
mountains, but those near their termination abut upon the main valley, in a
series of ridges separated by little streamlets. We have, therefore, as we
ascend the Piti river, not a wall of mountain, parallel to its course, but a
succession of ridges, more or less perpendicular to it, all descending from a
great elevation, and rapidly diminishing in height. The result is necessarily
a great degree of irregularity, the width of the alluvial belt varying much,
while the direction of the ridges, and of the cliffs by which they are
bounded, is constantly changing.
Leaving Lari on the 1st of September, we continued our
ALLUVIAL journey up the Piti valley. The road lay partly on the
PLATFORMS.
September, 1847. platforms of alluvial conglomerate, and partly over the
steep shingly talus which rested on the hills where they
were not separated by alluvium from the river. One alluvial plain, about two
miles from Lari, was well cultivated with the usual crops, the barley being
quite ripe, the wheat very nearly so, the oil-seed and buckwheat out of
flower, and the millet, of which there were only a few fields, still green. The

platforms of alluvium have, in general, an irregularly triangular form, the
base resting on the river, the apex at the termination of a mountain ravine,
down which a stream runs. This stream, instead of bisecting the platform,
usually runs in a hollow channel on one side or other between the
mountains and the alluvium, and is, where practicable, carried off in small
artificial conduits for the purposes of irrigation. The platforms always slope
gently from their apex to the river, and they are generally cut off in a cliff at
the lower end. These cliffs always show marks of stratification, sensibly
parallel to the river, and the pebbles which the alluvium contains, are (and
have been for the last two days) usually rounded.
I ought not to omit to mention, that I use the word alluvium merely as a
convenient mode of expression, without meaning to convey an idea of the
mode in which these beds originate. No equally suitable word suggests
itself, and the phenomena occur so frequently, that it is necessary to have
some short expression by which to describe them. The origin of these
alluvia is certainly very puzzling. At first sight, in any particular spot, the
most natural suggestion is, that they have been deposited under water, and
probably therefore in a lake. Their occurrence day after day,
notwithstanding the greatest changes of altitude, their enormous thickness
in many places, and the peculiar position in which they occur, soon dispel
this idea, and throw the observer into a maze of doubt and difficulty, at last
leading him to the conclusion, that no one cause is sufficient to explain the
highly variable phenomena which he observes, and that a lengthened series
of patient observations will be necessary before the subject can be
understood. These observations have yet to be supplied, but I believe I shall
best serve future observers, by detailing as fully as possible the points
which attracted my attention, without attempting for the present to speculate
upon the causes of the phenomena. The suggestions which I have to offer to
the reader, will be best understood when I have detailed all the facts upon
which they are founded.
It is especially necessary to distinguish between three forms of alluvium, all
of which have already occurred in Piti. These are, first, the fine clay;
secondly, the platforms, such as I have described in the last paragraph; and
thirdly, the enormous masses, which are without any definite limits, and do
not seem referable to any present valley system.

We encamped at Pok, a large village nearly nine miles
POK. from Lari. Here we found again an extensive alluvial
September, 1847.
platform, covered with much cultivation; and on the
mountain ravine above the village there was a considerable grove of young
juniper-trees. A week or two before, I should have considered them as
scattered trees; now they had quite the appearance of a forest, so bare had
the country been since crossing Hangarang.
West of Pok, our journey of the 2nd of September was over the alluvial
platform, which continued for two miles beyond the cultivation of the
village, gradually contracting in width by the encroachment of successive
spurs, which at last advanced close to the river. The road now ascended by a
short steep path on the mountain-side, to a higher level. At the base of this
ascent there were a great many angular masses of limestone, evidently
transported from the valleys behind. These fragments were very numerous,
and many of them of great size. They continued abundant during a great
part of the day, but no limestone was seen in situ. I have not preserved any
record of the exact position of these angular fragments with regard to the
valleys behind, but I have little doubt that they will be found to be of glacial
origin, such being certainly the case in many other similar instances. The
limestone was very compact, of a blue or grey colour, and many of the
fragments were almost full of coralline remains. I collected many
fossiliferous specimens, which were afterwards despatched from Hanle to
Simla by a messenger, on whom we thought we could rely, but they never
reached their destination[10].
We encamped at Dankar, after travelling ten miles. This
DANKAR.
September, 1847.
place is the principal village of the Piti valley, and is
13,000 feet above the level of the sea. The valley of the
Piti is here very wide, and divided into numerous channels, which are
separated by low gravelly islands, the whole width of the river being not
less than half a mile. Here the alluvium is very highly developed, lying in
patches on the face of the steep hills. The village of Dankar, though 1000
feet above the river, occupies both sides of a steep ridge entirely composed
of alluvium. Nor is this its utmost limit; for several hundred feet above the
houses, similar alluvial masses occur. These beds are not, however,
continuous from these great elevations, down to the level of the river: they
rest, on the contrary, on the ancient rocks, which are here very steep, and

the clay may be seen in isolated projecting masses, capping the most
prominent ridges[11].
The village of Dankar is built on arid barren soil, but
RANGRIG.
September, 1847.
the cultivated lands stretch from about the level of the
village almost to the river, on a very steep slope.
Thickets of Hippophaë were scattered among the cultivation, where the
ground was swampy; and notwithstanding the great altitude, the exposure
being favourable, the crops seemed good, and the wild plants were more
luxuriant than usual. One of the new species observed was a pretty gentian
(G. Moorcroftiana, Wall.), interesting as having been one of the few plants
sent from the Tibetan country by the unfortunate traveller whose name it
bears. It is also a common species in the valley of Dras, in which, perhaps,
Mr. Moorcroft's specimens were collected, unless, indeed, they were
obtained in Piti by Mr. Trebeck, during his journey to that valley from
Ladak.
Leaving Dankar on the morning of the 3rd of September, we ascended the
heights behind the village to the side of the main ridge behind, along which
we proceeded without change of level. The mountain was almost
precipitous, and extremely barren, but commanded a fine view of the open
flat plain of the Piti river, descending from the north-west; and of the course
of the Pin, a large tributary which descends from the south-west, at the
source of which there is a pass, by which it is possible to descend upon the
Sutlej at Wangtu. The mountain range interposed between the Sutlej and
Piti valleys was, from the elevation at which we now stood, seen to great
advantage. These mountains are, indeed, in the terse words of Jacquemont,
"d'une affreuse stérilité;" yet, in their varied outline, massive forms, and
snow-sprinkled summits, there is no doubt a degree of grandeur, which
produces a powerful impression.
At about a mile and a half from Dankar, during which we had, with the
ridge, gradually approached the river, the road began to descend, and we at
last reached the bank of the river, close to which, and sometimes even on its
gravelly bed, we continued for several miles. Where the banks were lowest,
and the gravel was moist, there were thickets of low shrubs, Hippophaë,
Myricaria, Ribes, and willow; elsewhere, the gravel was barren and
unproductive. We encamped at Lara, a village nine miles from Dankar, at

which there were only two poplar trees, and a very small extent of arable
ground. The wheat was ripe and very luxuriant, the ears being large and
well filled.
On the 4th of September, we continued our progress up the Piti valley,
which had quite the same aspect as on the day before, encamping on the left
bank of the river, opposite to the village of Rangrig, on a desert spot among
limestone rocks, at an elevation of 12,300 feet. Here we had attained our
furthest limit in a north-westerly direction, our road now turning to the
right, and ascending a considerable valley towards the Parang pass, in a
direction which promised much novelty and interest, as it had only been
traversed by one traveller, the unfortunate Trebeck, who, in the year 1822,
travelled from Le to Dankar by this route. The further course of the Piti
river, which, as we learn from Moorcroft's travels, was visited in 1822 by
Captain Mercer, was afterwards surveyed by Captain Broome. It
communicates with Lahul, which is the upper part of the valley of the
Chandrabhaga or Chenab river, by the Kulzum pass, a depression in that
great branch of the trans-Sutlej Himalaya, by which the waters of the Sutlej
and its tributaries on the east, are separated from those of the Chenab and
Beas.
During our journey through the district of Piti, the weather had been almost
uniformly dry and serene, though we were now in the very height of the
Indian rainy season. The only exception occurred while we were encamped
at Changar, on the lower part of the Parang river, about the 29th of August,
when the sky was for two days very cloudy, and on one night it rained
gently for nearly half an hour. The clouds were, however, high, and never
dense, and the unsettled state of the atmosphere was of very short
continuance. While it lasted, it was accompanied by violent wind, very
irregular in direction.
In every part of Piti we found the margins of springs,
SALINE and the grassy turf which grew on low swampy spots
INCRUSTATIONS.
September, 1847. along the river, covered with a saline incrustation, in the
form of a dry efflorescence, which encrusted the blades
of grass. It appeared to be confined to the vicinity of water, the barren rocky
tracts being destitute of it. This saline matter, as elsewhere in Tibet, consists
of sesquicarbonate of soda, and, as a consequence of the abundance of that

alkali, soda-producing plants were common, especially Chenopodiaceæ,
among which the common Salsola Kali was very abundant.
The district of Piti, which was formerly almost
PITI. independent, but paid tribute to, or exchanged presents
September, 1847.
with, all the Tibetan countries in its neighbourhood,
namely, with Garu, Ladak, and Lahul, as well as with Kunawar, followed in
1846 the fortunes of Lahul in being transferred to British rule. It is a very
thinly populated valley, the villages being small and distant, and the arable
tracts of no great extent. The mountains on its southern border, by which it
is separated from Kunawar, are so very elevated that they entirely intercept
all access of humidity from the districts to the northward of them, and
render the climate entirely rainless. The houses are in consequence very
generally built of unburnt bricks, made of the fine lacustrine clay so
common in the valleys, and their flat roofs are thickly covered with a layer
of the same material.

CHAPTER V.
Leave Valley of Piti river—Kibar—Cultivation above 14,000 feet—Vegetation of mountains—Rocky
gorge—Encampment at 17,000 feet—Parang Pass—Snow-bed and glacier—First plants at 16,500
feet—Parang valley—Gorge leading to Chumoreri Lake—Kiang, or wild horse—Chumurti—
Remarkable grassy plain—Lanak Pass—Granite boulders—Plants above 18,000 feet—Undulating
hilly country—Hanle plain—Vegetation—Monastery of Hanle.

Our last occupation in the valley of the Piti river was to make the necessary
arrangements for the transport of our baggage through the deserts which
were to be traversed before we should again arrive at inhabited tracts. The
principal part of our effects were carried by men, but our party was so large
that it was not easy to provide porters for the necessary amount of food
during a journey of a week in an uninhabited country. A motley group of
ponies, asses, and yaks therefore formed part of the train which
accompanied us into the desert country between Piti and the Indus.

Three miles north-west of our encamping ground opposite Rangrig, we left
the Piti river on the morning of the 5th of September, turning up the valley
of a considerable stream which here joined the main river. The platform of
alluvium on which we had been travelling continued for about half a mile
up the lateral valley, and was covered with large boulders of angular
fragments. The rock was limestone, the same as had occurred everywhere
since leaving Lara. A little village called Ki, and a large monastery, situated
on a curious, seemingly isolated, conical hill above the village, were passed
on the right hand. Soon after, the ascent became rapid on a steep ridge to the
east of the stream, and the Piti valley was completely shut out from view as
we got in among the mountains. The ridge by which we ascended was
barren and stony, and produced little vegetation. A curious broad-leaved
Allium was the only novelty. We continued to ascend along the stream till
we reached the village of Kibar, at which we encamped, at an elevation of
13,800 feet, in a narrow valley surrounded on all sides by lofty mountains.
Kibar is rather a pleasing-looking village, remarkable
KIBAR. for its houses being all built of stone, instead of the
September, 1847.
mud or unburnt brick so commonly used in the valley
of Piti. It is situated on the summit of a limestone rock, on the right bank of
the stream. Our tents were on a patch of green-sward on the opposite bank,
separated from the village by a deep ravine. Crossing this on the morning of
the 6th, we ascended the slope of the hill above the village, among
cultivation which rose on the hill-side fully 300 feet higher. Except one
field of oil-seed, the crops were all barley, which was ripe, and partly cut: it
was apparently very poor, being thin and deficient in ear. After leaving the
cultivation, we continued to ascend on the ridge, till we attained an
elevation of nearly 15,000 feet, at which height the road wound round the
sides of hills, without any considerable change of level, for two or three
miles. It was still early morning, and the air was very frosty. Every little rill
was covered with a thick coating of ice, and some small swamps which we
passed were crisp with frost.
Notwithstanding the considerable elevation, I noticed
VEGETATION. but little in the vegetation different from that common
September, 1847.
in Piti. The forms were by no means so alpine as on the
passes between Kunawar and Hangarang, though the elevation was greater
than on any of these. It was probably owing to the aridity of the climate that

the flora, at elevations of 15,000 feet, instead of being composed of delicate
alpine plants, was much the same as it had been 4000 feet lower. The rose,
the common Rhamnus of Piti, a little shrubby Potentilla, a spinous
Astragalus, and several Artemisiæ, were the common shrubs, and two
species of rhubarb grew abundantly on the dry hills above Kibar. The
Dama, which shuns the level country, the Allium first observed the day
before, and Lamium rhomboideum of the Hangarang pass, were almost the
only striking plants observed; all the others were those of the ordinary flora
of the dry hills and gravelly plains of the Piti valley. It is necessary, of
course, in comparing this vegetation with that of the passes, to recollect that
we were here in a valley, on slopes surrounded on all sides by lofty ridges,
not on the summit of a range overlooking everything around, or only
surpassed a very little by the continuation of the same ridge; so that the
temperature of the summer months must be considerably higher than on the
more exposed though less elevated passes.
Further on, the road descended rapidly to the stream,
ROCKY GORGE. which flowed in a rocky gorge, through which we held
September, 1847.
our course for three miles. A few willows, and stunted
shrubs of Myricaria, occurred on the descent, and the willow was found
occasionally on the banks of the stream in the gorge, which was enclosed by
high and steep limestone rocks on both sides. These gradually contracted as
we advanced, but again expanded at the point where we encamped, which
was close to the bank of the stream. The ravine being now more open, we
could see the hills to better advantage, and were struck with astonishment at
the desolation by which we were surrounded. We were, in truth, in a
wilderness of rocks, which to the south closed together, so as to shut in the
ravine by which we had ascended. High walls of cliffs rose on either hand
to an elevation of at least 1500 feet, displaying a natural section of a
multitude of strata, which seemed to be repeated again and again in a
succession of beds of limestone and slate. The elevation of our encampment
was 14,800 feet.
On the 7th of September, the wish of our guides and porters according with
our own, we did not cross the Parang pass, which was still five miles
distant, and nearly 4000 feet above us, but contented ourselves by
ascending to the highest water, perhaps 1500 feet below the summit. We
ascended on a steep shingly ridge to the right of the stream where we had

passed the night. Tufts of Lamium rhomboideum grew among the loose
shingle, but no other plant seemed to vegetate in such an ungenial soil.
When we had passed from the shingle, which was confined to the base of
the ascent, the ridge was dry and gravelly, with tufts of Dama and of a
species of nettle. Above 16,500 feet, the spur was rocky and uneven, and
some alpine vegetation was observed, for which I conjecture that the
melting of the snow had probably supplied moisture, as lower down the
sterility had been complete. About fifteen species were collected, two
Potentillæ, Biebersteinia odora, a Lychnis, a little tufted saxifrage, and
species of Nepeta, Artemisia, Gnaphalium, Saussurea, Allardia,
Polygonum, Rheum, Blitum, one grass, and a fern. Three or four lichens
grew on the stones, and I obtained one specimen of a moss without
fructification. The Allardia, a pretty little rose-coloured flower, with an
agreeable smell, was the only new species; all the others were already
familiar to me. They grew in the crevices of the rocks, in extremely small
quantity, struggling as it were for existence against the unfavourable
circumstances to which they were exposed.
A stony ravine, elevated about 17,000 feet, was the
ASCENT TOWARDS place selected for our encampment. A small stream,
THE PARANG
PASS. supplied by a patch of snow a little way above, trickled
September, 1847. down under the angular gravel. The ascent had been
extremely fatiguing, because almost without
intermission, and we were glad of rest on reaching that elevation. During
the day, however, I ascended a ridge of rugged rocks, which rose above our
tents to a height of more than 500 feet, being desirous of ascertaining to
what elevation I should find vegetation. An Alsine was common among the
gravel, with two small plants which were not in a determinable state; and on
the rocks, to the highest level to which I succeeded in ascending (probably
17,600 feet), the little Allardia continued to occur occasionally. The ridge
afforded a good view of the mountains round. The range to the north, which
we had still to cross, lay in a semicircle behind; to the east was the
continuation of the ridge by which we ascended; and a deep hollow lay to
the west. Rugged rock everywhere met the view. The slates which
alternated with the limestone were so very brittle that they everywhere
formed piles of angular fragments, which filled all the hollows, and formed
a sloping talus against every precipice. The view was one not to be

forgotten, its desolation far surpassing any conception of waste and utter
barrenness which I could have formed.
During the whole day I was never free from a dull headache, evidently
caused by the great elevation. Rest relieved it, but the least exertion brought
it back again. It continued all evening, as long as I was awake, and still
remained in the morning of the 8th, when I rose soon after daybreak to
prepare for the journey. A few paces took us beyond the shingly ravine in
which we had been encamped, and the remainder of the ascent was
throughout over loose angular fragments, the débris of the cliffs on the
right. Under the latter we passed, winding round the side of the semicircular
bay, till we got to about its centre, when the ascent became excessively
steep and toilsome. The exertion of raising the body was very fatiguing, and
the last few hundred yards were only accomplished after many pauses. A
few large patches of snow lay in hollows along the road; but up to the very
crest of the pass there was no trace of perpetual snow, nor even any
continuous snow-bed.
The summit of the Parang pass is a narrow ridge,
THE PARANG covered with large blocks of stone. To the north lay a
PASS.
September, 1847. large field of snow, sloping downwards at a very gentle
angle. In this direction the view was limited within two
miles by steep rugged mountains, which closed in on both sides. To the
right and left also, the pass was overlooked by ridges close at hand. The
only direction in which a distant view was obtained was south, where the
mountains beyond the Piti river were beautifully seen: from the great
elevation at which we stood, their summits were everywhere in view; their
elevation was surprisingly uniform, and the whole range was capped with
snow. The mountains close at hand presented much the same appearance as
I had seen from the rocks above our encampment the day before.
I reached the summit of the pass, which has an
GLACIER. elevation of 18,500 feet, at a quarter before eight in the
September, 1847.
morning. At that time the temperature was 28°; and a
cold southerly wind blew with considerable violence, making us seek the
shelter of the blocks which lay around. A small red lichen, (Lecanora
miniata,) on the fragments of rock, was the only vegetable production I
observed. After an hour's rest, we commenced the descent over the snow-

bed, proceeding towards a gap which was visible in the mountains. The
snow was hard frozen, and crisp under the feet. Descending steadily without
any fatigue, we were soon evidently on a snow-covered glacier. A few
fissures were passed, but mostly not above a few inches wide, and none that
we could not with ease step over, the widest not exceeding two feet. At a
distance of about a mile and a half from the crest, the mountains, which on
both sides surrounded the snow-bed in the form of a circle, had so much
approached to one another, that they formed a narrow valley, down which
the snowy mass continued in the form of a rugged glacier. We now left the
surface of the ice, and proceeded along the stony side of the ravine, with the
glacier on our left hand, and steep limestone rocks on our right. Blocks of
limestone strewed our path as we descended, and numerous small fragments
of the same rock covered the edge of the glacier.
About three miles from the summit of the pass the glacier terminated
abruptly in a bluff precipice, the height of which was more than 100 feet.
Little rills of water were, at the time we passed (9½ A.M.), trickling from
every part of the surface, and a small streamlet ran along the edge of the
glacier under an arch of ice. The structure was here very evident: broad
white bands, and narrower ones of a dirty colour, from the earthy matter
which they had absorbed, ran parallel to the slope of the ravine, the arches
or loops (so well explained by Professor Forbes in his delightful work on
the glaciers of the Alps) being drawn out to a great length.
At the termination of the glacier, we descended from the steep mountain-
side, along which we had hitherto travelled, to the flat plain, the
continuation of the surface on which the glacier rested. On this descent the
first vegetation appeared at an elevation of about 16,500 feet. Two small
grasses, Biebersteinia odora, a Lychnis, and a little villous Astragalus, were
the plants observed: they grew in the crevices of the rock, and scarcely rose
above the ground. None of the species were different from those collected
in the mountains of Piti.
When we had reached the middle of the valley, so as to
THE PARANG be exactly in face of the glacier, we found that a large
VALLEY. ITS
VEGETATION. stream issued from a vaulted cavity at its termination.
September, 1847. For some hundred feet the stream ran among large
masses of ice, as if the glacier had very recently

extended further, and had melted away irregularly, leaving these masses
standing. Leaving the glacier, we still followed the valley, which was
confined on both sides by steep cliffs. We kept close to the stream, walking
over its gravelly bed, and I collected a few more plants as I descended;
none, however, new to me. A little Nepeta, four species of Potentilla, a
Gnaphalium, several grasses and Carices, and a very small fern, were the
species. About three miles from the end of the glacier we found our tents
pitched on a small plain, connected with a lateral ravine, and covered with
tufts of Dama, and a little species of Alsine in flat tufts, which was quite
new to me. The elevation of our encampment was 16,000 feet.
We followed the course of the valley into which we had thus descended, for
three days, without meeting with any inhabitants, and through so uniform a
country, that it is unnecessary to detail each day's journey. Rugged and
rocky mountains, of moderate elevation, principally limestone, bounded the
view on both sides. In front we seldom saw more than a few miles; and
behind, the view was in general equally limited, though occasionally we
could see, up a lateral valley, the peak of a snowy mountain. The valley was
almost invariably wide and level, once or twice only interrupted by
projecting ridges of low rocks advancing to its centre. Low platforms of
alluvium, like those of Piti, occupied the wider parts, their upper angles
resting (as in Piti) on the opening of lateral ravines, while their bases were
cut into cliffs by the stream.
During these three days we descended from 16,000 to about 14,800 feet.
The surrounding mountains were quite barren and desolate. The gravelly
plains were covered with tufts of Dama and of the curious tufted Alsine,
which formed dense flattened hassock-like masses, of considerable size.
The soil was very saline, and as we descended it gradually became more so.
In the earlier part of the descent, the alpine forms were the same as those to
the south of the Parang pass, and the plants were few in number and much
scattered. Lower down, however, more novelty was met with. A little
willow was the first shrubby plant, and was followed by Ephedra,
Myricaria, and Hippophaë, all much stunted. Still lower there were large
patches of green-sward along the stream, generally swampy, and always
covered with a saline incrustation. Artemisiæ, Astragali, Gentianæ, and
Potentillæ, were the commonest forms, with a number of saline plants,
chiefly Chenopodiaceæ, which abounded on the lowest spots.

On the 11th, the last of these three days, the vegetation had quite lost its
alpine character, notwithstanding that the elevation was still 15,000 feet. No
Biebersteinia was seen, and the little species of Potentilla, Alsine,
Saxifraga, Cruciferæ, and Parnassia, were no longer met with. The large
Hyoscyamus of Piti (Belenia of Decaisne) had made its appearance, with
tall Artemisiæ, a Clematis, a rank-growing Corydalis, Cicer Soongaricum,
and other plants in no way alpine. I was much surprised to observe so
complete a change in so moderate a descent, and very much interested to
find that the alpine flora had so completely disappeared. I regret that I am as
yet unable to give my results in more perfect form, the necessary
comparison and determination of the species collected still remaining to be
done.
During our descent we had gradually taken a more
CHUMORERI. easterly course, and on the 11th our direction was
September, 1847.
nearly due east. On this day we passed the gorge in the
mountains, up which the road turns to the Chumoreri lake, by which Mr.
Trebeck had travelled to and from Ladakh. This would have been our most
direct route to Le, but we were desirous of visiting the more eastern
districts, so as to reach the Indus as soon as possible. The mountains in this
gorge suddenly lowered; a wide gravelly plain sloped gently up to a low
ridge, which did not appear to rise higher than two or three hundred feet
above the level of the Parang river. Beyond this ridge, on the assurance of
our guides, confirmed by Major Cunningham, who had on a former
occasion travelled along the Chumoreri lake as far as its southern extremity,
lies the lake, without any more considerable elevation separating it from the
Parang river.
It is much to be regretted that the late period of the season, and the other
important objects which we had to accomplish, should have prevented us
from crossing this narrow neck of land. It would probably have thrown
much light upon the question of the origin and nature of the salt lakes,
which are, as is well known, scattered over Tibet, Central Asia, and Siberia.
The Chumoreri lake has certainly no outlet, but from the nature of the
surrounding mountains, everywhere steep and lofty, there can be no doubt
that at one period its waters were discharged at its south end by the narrow
valley which we saw from the south side of the Parang river[12]. An accurate
determination of the height of the separating ridge above the present surface

of the lake, a careful examination of the configuration of the surface at its
southern end, and an analysis of the water, which is described as
sufficiently brackish to be unpleasant though not absolutely undrinkable,
would certainly enable conclusions to be drawn as to the nature of the cause
which has lowered the level of the waters of the lake, and so put an end to
its discharge.
In the plain which sloped gently upwards from the
WILD HORSE. Parang river towards the Chumoreri lake, we saw for
September, 1847.
the first time a Kiang, or wild horse, but at too great a
distance to enable his shape and appearance to be distinctly made out; and
the river, which was interposed between us, prevented our approaching
nearer. We afterwards frequently saw these animals, but from their extreme
wariness, and the open nature of the country, we were never fortunate
enough, notwithstanding repeated trials, to get within gunshot distance of
them. They appear to abound at elevations between 14,000 and 16,000 feet,
on the open undulating tracts on the summits of the mountain ranges, and to
avoid valleys and rocky districts, where they would be liable to surprise.
To the eastward of the former outlet of the lake, the
THE PARANG valley of the Parang river was more contracted than it
VALLEY.
September, 1847. had been in any previous part of its course. Rocky hills,
projecting from the southern mountains, advanced so
close to the river, that no passage was practicable along their base, and the
road several times ascended several hundred feet to cross these ridges. This
obstruction was, however, but temporary, lasting only for a few miles,
beyond which the valley expanded into a very wide plain, extending for five
or six miles in an easterly direction, by about half that distance from north
to south. The borders of this wide expanse were very low platforms, almost
horizontal, and not more than from six to ten feet above the river. The
middle portion was a plain of gravel, scarcely higher than the level of the
stream, and evidently occasionally submerged. Here the river bends rapidly
round towards the south-east. The district at which we had now arrived is
called Chumurti, and about eight or ten miles to the east of our encampment
on the 11th of September, is a village or assemblage of tents called Chumur,
from which we obtained a supply of porters, to relieve the party who had
accompanied us from Piti. Here also, in accordance with the instructions we
had received on leaving Simla, Captain Strachey left us, with the intention

of following the course of the Parang river, as far as he conveniently could,
and then turning to the left across one of the passes of the great trans-Sutlej
chain to the Indus. Major Cunningham and myself, on the other hand,
proposed to proceed by the direct, and equally unknown, route to Hanle,
and thence to visit the Indus, and proceed to Le.
The Parang river, whose source is in the mountains
THE PARANG immediately north of the Parang pass, has, as we have
RIVER.
September, 1847. seen, at first a northerly direction, but gradually bends
more and more to the eastward and southward, and
finally has a nearly south-west course, where it joins the Piti river, nearly
opposite Shialkar. Its source, as well as its confluence with the Piti river, are
within the British territory; but the most important, because the most
populous, part of its course lies within the Chinese border. The boundary of
the Chinese district runs nearly from north-east to south-west, passing a
little to the west of Rodok, and crossing the Indus at the village of Chibra,
where Mr. Trebeck was stopped in his attempt to penetrate up the Indus;
thence a little south of Haule, and across the course of the Parang river. It
then bends more towards the south, and again crosses the Parang at the
point where we were stopped in the end of August, whence its direction is
nearly due south as far as Nilang, on the Jahnavi branch of the Ganges.
The Parang river being a tributary of the Sutlej, by crossing the great chain
at the Parang pass we had not reached the Indus valley, but had descended
into a lateral valley still connected with the drainage of the Sutlej. The great
line of watershed between the Indus and Sutlej lay still before us. This
chain, which is the prolongation of Kailas, must be called the trans-Sutlej
Himalaya, unless the name Himalaya be restricted to the chain south of the
Sutlej, in which case the mountains of Lahul, Kishtawar, and Kashmir,
would lose their claim to that appellation.
Towards this chain, which we were to cross by the
ASCENT TOWARDS Lanak pass, we commenced our journey on the morning
LANAK PASS.
September, 1847. of the 12th of September. Our road lay across the
Parang river, which flowed in several channels among
the wide expanse of gravel which here formed its bed. The morning was
bitterly cold, and the water almost icy, to the great discomfort of our
porters. The largest stream was perhaps twenty-five feet wide and two and a

half deep, with a moderately rapid current. After crossing the river we took
a northerly direction, leaving the valley or plain of the Parang river, and
ascending an open, almost level valley, bounded by low hills. The
mountains on the left, which were interposed between our route and the
Chumoreri lake, were the most rugged in sight. In the centre of the plain
was the channel of a stream, very shingly, but without water, along which,
or on alluvial banks only a few feet higher, we gradually advanced. The
level of our camp on the Parang river had been 14,800 feet; and from this
we were now gradually but imperceptibly rising. The hills on either hand
were rounded and low, but increased in height as we receded from the
Parang river. The soil was very barren, and showed many indications of
salt. Scattered plants of Salsola were common, with Christolea, a pretty
Cruciferous plant, with purple flowers and fleshy wedge-shaped leaves,
tasting strongly of horse-radish, which has been described by Decaisne
from specimens collected by Jacquemont in Piti. A little white Alyssum,
which I had not previously met with, was also very common.
Four miles from the Parang river we reached a flat grassy plain of
considerable extent, with deep black soil, in which meandered a very slowly
running stream, perhaps twelve feet wide, which seemed to have an outlet
by an open valley on our right, and to join the Parang some miles to the east
of where we left it. A great part of this plain was swampy, the turf rising in
little knolls, but round the edges and in all the higher parts it was covered
with a thick incrustation of white efflorescent salt. To the north and east,
low gently-sloping hills as barren as ever rose from the edge of the green
plain; and in the north-east corner, close to the foot of the hills, a large
fountain, discharging copiously clear tasteless cold water, was evidently the
source of the stream which flowed over the plain. The grassy turf produced
a considerable number of plants, not a few of which were new to me. An
Umbellifera, an Aster with large purple flowers, a Saussurea, and two
species of Pedicularis, one with white, the other with yellow flowers, were
very common, as were also a species of Triglochin, a white Juncus, several
Carices, and three or four very beautiful grasses. In the shallow water of the
pools scattered over the plain, a species of alga was common, floating
without attachment. It was a broad foliaceous green plant, and has been
determined by the Rev. M. J. Berkeley to be a species of Nostoc, closely

allied to, if not identical with N. commune, a species which occurs in all
parts of the globe.
After crossing this plain, and stopping to rest by the fountain, we began to
ascend the long slopes of the hills, partly on a level ridge, partly along the
wide sloping valleys by which the low hills were separated. Both hills and
plain were frightfully arid, the aspect of the country being of an uniform
grey colour; and coarse gravel, with scattered stones of larger size,
everywhere covered the surface. The ascent was very inconsiderable till
towards the end of the day's journey. The distance travelled was about ten
miles, and we encamped at about 15,800 feet, on the left bank of a small
stream which descended from the north, the borders of which were swampy
and covered with green turf, in which the common plants of the country
occurred, such as little gentians, Ranunculi, Parnassia, several Polygona
and Potentillæ, Carices, and grasses. On the west bank of the stream was a
low ridge of clay-slate rocks, while on the right and in the valley was a heap
of granite boulders; no doubt an ancient moraine, for the fragments were
piled on one another to a great height, and rose far above the stream as well
as the ordinary level of the plain.
On the 13th of September we crossed the Lanak pass,
LANAK PASS. which lay before us at a distance of about five miles.
September, 1847.
From our encampment the mountains appeared easy of
access and rounded in outline, and we commenced the ascent by a nearly
level walk across the gravelly plain. After a mile and a half we rejoined the
stream, and kept along it for a little way. Its banks were green with a narrow
belt of turf; and the bed was often rocky, the rock being still clay-slate,
notwithstanding the granite boulders everywhere scattered about. The edges
of the stream were frozen, spiculæ of thin ice adhering to the herbage. The
vegetation was quite alpine, the elevation being certainly above 16,000 feet.
A Delphinium, which seemed the same as the D. Brunonianum of the
Hangarang pass, a little yellow saxifrage, and a white-flowered species of
the same genus, which I believe to be the Scottish alpine S. cernua, an
entire-leaved yellow Ranunculus, a Pedicularis with purple flowers, and
some grasses, were the most remarkable plants observed.
After a mile, we left the ravine and ascended to the open gently-sloping
ground on its left, still rising sensibly as we advanced. The surface was, as

usual, dry and gravelly, and Oxytropis chiliophylla and a little Stipa were
almost the only plants. We continued nearly parallel to the ravine, and
crossed it again a little further on. It was now dry, and its steep stony banks
were covered with bushes of Dama. Still gradually ascending, we crossed
the same ravine a third time, where its bed was upwards of 17,000 feet.
There was again no water visible, but the ground was still moist, the
streamlet probably, as is very general in these arid regions, trickling under
the surface among the loose gravel. The little alpine nettle, which I had first
found on the northern spurs of Porgyul, near Changar, and again on the
southern face of the Parang pass, was here common, as were two species of
Alsine, which formed dense tufts. A little saxifrage and the Delphinium
were also still observed, but all the other plants had disappeared.
Leaving the ravine for the last time, we continued the ascent, which became
steeper as we advanced. A rounded ridge lay to our right hand, and we rose
nearer and nearer to its crest. Fragments of granite, piled on one another in
increasing numbers, covered the steep slopes. Rock in situ was only to be
seen in one place; it was still clay-slate, containing a good deal of mica. The
top of the pass was nearly level for several hundred yards, and covered with
boulders, principally of granite, but a few of quartz and of a trappean rock,
quite black and homogeneous. The outline of the mountains was generally
rounded, and they rose gradually in both directions above the pass, which
had an elevation of 18,100 feet. The view, both towards the direction in
which we had come and that in which we were proceeding, was rather
extensive, but from the prevailing uniformity of outline and colour it was
more striking than beautiful. There were no trees or villages, no variation of
surface greater than an occasional grey rock, but everywhere the same
dreary sterile uniformity. Nothing could be seen of Lake Chumoreri, which
lies at least fifteen miles westward, and is surrounded by mountains,
everywhere (except in the direction of the former outlet) higher than that on
which we stood.
The occurrence of great accumulations of boulders, of a rock different from
that which occurs in situ on the very summit of the pass, was quite
conformable to what I had observed on some of the passes between
Kunawar and Hangarang. It was not, however, on this account the less
puzzling, nor was it till I crossed the Sassar pass, in August, 1848, that I
could at all conceive in what way it was to be explained. On this pass, as I

shall afterwards relate in detail, a glacier occupies the crest of the pass,
descending from higher mountains to the north, and presenting a bluff
termination in two directions.
On the summit of the pass I collected specimens of three phenogamous
plants, probably nourished by a recently melted patch of snow; for though
there was none on the pass itself, nor on the descent on either side, a steep
mountain, half a mile to the right, in a due northern exposure, was still
covered with snow to at least five hundred feet below the level of the pass.
The small quantity of snow seen in the distant view was very remarkable,
and the more so as there was no indication of diminished elevation; ridge
rising beyond ridge, and peak behind peak, to the utmost limits of view. The
three plants which were observed were a little Arenaria or Stellaria, and
two Cruciferous plants, one of which only was in fruit. A red lichen, the
same as that seen on the Parang pass, covered the stones.
The descent from the Lanak pass was at first gentle, but very soon became
steep, to the bottom of a valley in which a small stream of water was
running, derived, I suppose, from some small snow-beds in a lateral ravine
out of sight, for it almost immediately disappeared under the gravel. Soon
after leaving the crest of the pass, we came upon clay-slate rock finely
laminated, and dipping south-south-west at a high angle. The valley by
which we descended gradually contracted into a rocky ravine, at last very
narrow, with high precipitous walls, and full of large boulders. We
encamped for the night at its junction with a large stream descending in a
rocky dell from the west. Around our camp, on both sides of the stream,
there was an outbreak of greenstone, which had upheaved the clay-slate
rocks.
On the 14th of September we proceeded along the stream close to which we
had encamped the day before. High mountains, whose summits could not be
seen from the bottom of the narrow ravine, rose on both sides. The rock on
both banks was clay-slate, much altered by heat, often very hard, and with
numerous quartz veins; no more greenstone was observed. The stream,
copious when we started, gradually disappeared as the ravine widened, and
water soon lay only in pools along the gravelly bed. Boulders of granite
were abundant all along. After three miles the ravine opened into a wide
gravelly plain, skirted by rounded hills of considerable elevation, to which

the alluvial platforms sloped very gently on both sides. Christolea, a little
shrubby Artemisia, and a small Stipa, were the plants which grew among
the gravel.
After about a mile and a half, the direction of the plain
UNDULATING trending to the south more than was suited to our
COUNTRY.
September, 1847. purpose, we turned to the left, to cross the ridge which
ran parallel to it on the north-east. A long gravelly
plain, sloping almost imperceptibly upwards, led us to the summit of the
ridge, which was not more than two or three hundred feet above the plain
we had left. From this pass, for such it was, though an insignificant one, an
open valley, skirted on both sides by low rounded hills, ran to the north-east
for nearly five miles. The appearance of the country was very remarkable.
The hills were all very gentle in slope, and quite rounded in outline, so that
the surface was almost undulating. It required reflection on the fact that we
were traversing a tract in which the bottoms of the valleys were from
15,000 to 15,500 feet above the level of the sea, to make us aware of the
very mountainous nature of the country we were passing through, which
was, if any part of Tibet (which I have seen) may be so called, the Table
Land north of the Himalaya. The height of the mountains, too, was in fact
greater than we had at first been inclined to believe, the gentleness of the
slopes making us think the ridges nearer than they really were, and
therefore leading to a false estimate of their height. In general they were
from 1000 to 2000 feet in height, and their summits therefore from 16,000
to 17,000 feet above the level of the sea.

The open valley along which we now proceeded was
OPEN VALLEYS. remarkable in another point of view. It was quite
September, 1847.
waterless, and seemed hemmed in on both sides by
hills, so that its drainage must take place in the direction of its long axis; at
least, no lateral depression could be perceived on either side. About a mile
from its eastern end, this plain was lower than in any other part. We had
been descending along it from west to east, and we could see that beyond
that point it rose gently to the eastward. The surface of the lowest part was
covered with a hard shining white clay, without any of the fine gravel which
abounded elsewhere. A few tufts of an Eurotia were the only plant which it
produced. It was evident that the winter snows which fall on this isolated
spot, when melted in summer, finding no exit, form a small lake, till they
completely disappear by evaporation.
After crossing this low clayey tract, we ascended gently
HANLE PLAIN, ITS for nearly a mile in an easterly direction, when the
VEGETATION.
September, 1847. valley terminated very abruptly and unexpectedly in a
precipitous descent of four or five hundred feet, the
clay-slate rocks emerging suddenly from beneath the gravel at the very edge
of the precipice. The road descended in a narrow gorge, which had
apparently been worn by aqueous action in the almost perpendicular cliff.
On emerging from this gorge, we found ourselves on the border of a very
extensive perfectly level tract, seemingly surrounded by hills, and
approaching in shape to a circle, though its outline, from projecting ranges
of hills, was very irregular. The margins of this plain were dry and gravelly;
the centre, as seen from a distance, was green, but in many places encrusted
with a saline efflorescence.
Skirting this plain, which lay on our right, while ranges of hills, separated
by wide gravelly valleys, occupied the left, we reached Hanle, a Buddhist
monastery inhabited by about twenty lamas, built on the summit of a steep
hill which rises abruptly out of the plain. We encamped in a ravine at the
foot of the hill on which the monastery is built, in which the tents of the
wandering population are erected when they bring their flocks into this
neighbourhood.

The plain of Hanle, which is not, I think, less than six or eight miles in
diameter, resembles very much that curious flat tract which we passed on
the 12th of September, on the south side of the Lanak pass; it is, however,
much larger in dimensions. Several streams, very tortuous and sluggish,
wind over its surface. These were frequently three feet or more in depth,
and contained multitudes of small fish, usually about six inches in length,
but growing to eight or ten inches at least. They were a species of carp. We
tried to eat them, but, though sweet and well-tasted, the bones were so
numerous and troublesome that we relinquished the attempt. We were much
interested at the occurrence of fish at an elevation of 14,300 feet, a height at
which, à priori, it would scarcely have been expected that they would have
existed.
The surface of the plain was very saline, and, where not swampy, covered
with coarse grasses and Cyperaceæ. It was very uneven, hummocks or
knolls being scattered over the surface, which made walking very difficult.
These, I presume, were caused by the gradual growth of plants, which, in
process of time, formed heaps in spots not covered by water during the
melting of the snow in spring. In some parts there were extensive patches of
Dama. A species of Elymus and a Blysmus were very abundant. The ground
in the vicinity of the streams was swampy, and the coarse grasses of the
drier parts were replaced by little Potentillæ, Glaux maritima, Taraxacum,
Aster, and a number of Chenopodiaceous plants. In the running waters a
Potamogeton and Ranunculus aquatilis were plentiful. The streams, which
must, I believe, as in the case of the plain of the 12th, principally derive
their supply from springs which break out on the edge of the flat country, all
converge to a point at the north-east end of the plain, and, uniting into one,
continue their course down an open valley in a northerly direction towards
the Indus.
As no section of the bed of this remarkable plain is anywhere to be seen, it
is not possible to form an estimate of the depth of its boggy soil, or of the
nature of the subjacent deposit. It can scarcely be doubted that it has at one
time been a lake, which has been gradually silted up; but it is not easy to
conjecture the length of time which has elapsed since it became dry land, in
the absence of any knowledge of the nature and contents of the deposits
which occur beneath the surface. As an outlet for the waters of the plain

exists to the northward, we may infer that the waters of the lake were
always fresh.
We remained two days at Hanle, to effect a change of porters, a matter
which cannot be accomplished in a hurry in an almost uninhabited country,
without unnecessary hardships on individuals. There is no settled
population except the monks or lamas; a few stone huts without roofs,
which were scattered about the foot of the rock, having no tenants. To the
east of the monastery, on the border of the plain, watered by an artificial
channel brought with considerable labour from the river, we observed two
or three small fields. The grain, which was barley, had been cut and carried
away, so that harvest at Hanle was over. The view from the top of the
monastery was extensive, as we overlooked the whole plain to the south,
and the valley of the Hanle river on the east. The mountains were highest to
the east, where a very lofty, steep, and irregular range, with a good deal of
snow in some places, separated Hanle from the Indus. To the south and
west, the mountains, though high, were rounded.
The rock on which the monastery is built is wholly igneous, but varies from
a coarse-grained granite, rapidly decaying, to a dark-coloured greenstone,
with large crystals scattered through it. Close to the foot of the hill, the clay-
slate was in a few places visible, considerably altered by igneous action, as
was to be expected from its proximity to the greenstone.

CHAPTER VI.
Descend Hanle river—Unsettled weather—Encamp on banks of Indus—Upper course of Indus—
Pugha ravine—Forest of Myricaria-trees—Borax plain—Hot springs—Borax lakes of Eastern
Tibet—Sulphur mine—Pulokanka Pass—Salt lake—Lacustrine clays with shells—Ancient water-
mark—Rupchu—Tunglung Pass—Fall of snow—Alluvial conglomerate—Giah—Narrow ravine
—Miru—Upshi—Indus valley—Marsilang—Richly cultivated plain of Chashut—Bridge over
Indus—Le—Buddhist edifices.

On the 17th of September we left Hanle, en route to Le. Our road lay down
the left bank of the river by which the waters of the lake-plain are
discharged into the Indus. The valley through which it flowed was open and
level, and its slope imperceptible. On the left lay a low range of hills, an
irregular mass increasing much in width, as well as in height, as we
proceeded northwards, the Hanle extremity being the termination where it
slopes into the plain. On the right, a very lofty range, some of the peaks of
which were certainly not less than 21,000 feet in elevation, ran parallel to
our course, separating the open valley of the Hanle river from the Indus.
The width of the valley varied from one to three miles.
HANLE RIVER. The stream was very winding, crossing from side to
September, 1847.
side, and often pressing the road close to the spurs of
the range on the left. The range on this side was principally clay-slate, with
occasional outbreaks of trap, which had in many places converted the
stratified rock into a hard red or green jasper. From the immediate
proximity of the igneous rock the stratified masses were very much
contorted, and no regular dip was observable.
Saline efflorescence occurred everywhere in great quantity in the vicinity of
the stream; as a consequence, Chenopodiaceous plants were more than
usually abundant, and I collected at least three species of that family which
I had not previously observed. The banks of the stream were everywhere
bordered by a belt of green herbage, more or less broad, in which the usual
species of Ranunculus, Gentiana, Pedicularis, Juncus, Cyperaceæ, and
grasses were common. Glaux maritima also occurred abundantly. Two other
European plants were found in the swamps along the course of the river,
which were very interesting as a proof of the extremely European nature of
the flora: these were Hippuris vulgaris and Limosella lacustris. Towards the
end of the day's journey, Caragana versicolor (Dama) became very
common, covering a large extent of surface, and growing to a much greater
size than I had ever before seen, with an upright stem nearly six feet in
height. I could scarcely persuade myself that the species was the same as
the little depressed shrubs which grew on the passes further south. Two
species of Myricaria, both of which I had seen in Piti, also reappeared
during the day, so that we were evidently approaching a lower level and
more genial climate.

Banks of alluvial conglomerate occurred on the sides of the valley, in the
spaces between the projecting spurs of the range on the left hand, on the
latter part of the day. The beds were distinctly stratified and very sandy,
more or less full of rounded stones, and often passing into pure sand, which
was interstratified with the coarser beds. The day was very cloudy and
threatening, and a few drops of rain fell for the first time since the 29th of
August, the weather during the whole of that interval having been brilliant
and quite dry. We encamped eleven miles from Hanle, on a gravelly plain
close to the river.
Dining the night the weather did not improve, but continued very cloudy,
and on the morning of the 18th the mountains on the right side of the valley
were covered with snow, down to within 1500 feet of the plain. The wind
blew strongly from the northward, and the day, which was still very cloudy,
was bitterly cold, and, to our feelings, extremely uncomfortable. We
continued to follow the course of the Hanle river, passing over long gravel
flats, which alternated with turfy saline meadows. Several low spurs from
the mountains on the left, which projected far into the plain, making the
river bend much to the right, were crossed as we proceeded. About ten
miles from our morning's camp, we left the course of the river, which
turned to the right and entered a rocky mountain gorge, while our road kept
its northerly direction. An open valley led us to the crest of a low ridge of
trap and slate, from which a very long stony monotonous valley descended
to an extensive plain covered with fine mud and saline exudation, on which
the only vegetation was a few tufts of Suæda and coarse grass. Crossing this
plain, on which the dry clay was in many places deeply cracked and
fissured, as if it had till within a short time been under water, or at least
swampy, we encamped, at an elevation of 13,800 feet, on the banks of the
Indus, here a muddy torpid stream, without any apparent current, about four
feet deep and twenty or twenty-five feet wide. There was, however, another
channel, separated from that on which we were encamped by a small island.
So sluggish was the stream at the point where we joined
RIVER INDUS. it, that we were for a long time uncertain in which
September, 1847.
direction the current was flowing; and though we were
prepared to find the Indus at the end of our day's journey, the river on
whose banks we were encamped was so much less than our anticipations,
that we were very unwilling to be convinced that we had really arrived at

the great river, to which we had so long looked forward as one of the most
interesting objects of our journey. The island in the centre of the channel
was a bank of very fine sand or mud, on which large flocks of wild-fowl
were resting; it was very little elevated above the surface of the water,
which must frequently, I should think, rise sufficiently to cover it. The bank
on which we were encamped, though rather higher, was not more than four
feet above the water; it was quite vertical, and composed of fine clay,
without any intermixture of stones or gravel.
The course of the river Indus, from its source to Le, has
UPPER COURSE OF hitherto been less known than any other part in Tibet;
THE INDUS.
September, 1847. but as Captain Strachey, a month or two after our visit,
descended along it from the Chinese frontier, as far as
Le, the unknown portion is now very much reduced. It rises in the
mountains north of the lakes of Mansarawer and Rawan Rhad, and runs in
general towards the north-east. Moorcroft has described its appearance at
Garu or Gartop, where it is a very insignificant stream; but the intervening
country is so little known, except by native report, that we can scarcely be
said to have an exact knowledge of the upper part of its course. There is in
some maps an eastern branch laid down, but of that we have no definite
information. From the arid and snowless nature of the country through
which it must flow, it is probably a very small stream, but its length may be
considerable.
Immediately above the open plain in which we joined the Indus, it would
appear to have a very rocky and rugged channel. Such, at least, was the
description given to us by our guides of the lower course of the Hanle river,
which we left only a few miles before it joined the Indus; and as the
mountains to the south-west appeared to close in very abruptly within a
very short distance of our encampment, we could not doubt that the open
and level plain which we found in this portion of the river's course was of
limited extent, and quite an exceptional feature in the character of the
country through which the Indus flows. From the great elevation and abrupt
slope of the range which runs parallel to the Hanle river on the east, there
can be no doubt that the spurs which it sends down on its north-east slope,
towards the Indus, must be bold and rocky; and though the hills on the left
bank of the Hanle river are much less elevated, yet they rise as they advance
to the eastward. The descent of this river too, though very gentle in the

upper part of its course, while its valley is broad, is probably very abrupt in
the last few miles, where its channel is rocky and its ravine narrow. The
elevation of its junction with the Indus is, I believe, about 13,800 feet above
the level of the sea.
On the 19th of September our road lay in a westerly
INDUS VALLEY. direction down the Indus. The weather was still
September, 1847.
extremely unsettled, the sky being cloudy and a violent
north or north-west wind continuing to blow in frequent gusts. No rain,
however, fell. The plain gradually narrowed as we advanced, and the
mountains on the left approached by degrees close to the river. Low grassy
plains, covered with a saline incrustation, quite dry, and without any
brushwood or tall herbaceous vegetation, skirted the river, the course of
which we followed very closely. Indeed, notwithstanding the considerable
diminution of altitude, the aspect of the valley of the Indus was more dreary
and barren than we had for some days been accustomed to. The rocky spurs
were quite bare; and even on the level tracts no vegetation was seen,
excepting on the very lowest banks, which were moistened by the river.
This utter sterility was no doubt due to the absence of lateral rivulets, the
hills which rose on our left hand being stony and steep, and not rising to a
sufficient elevation to be covered with perpetual snow, or to accumulate and
retain snow-beds in their ravines till a late period of the year.
The rock on the left-hand mountains during the day was quite different from
any that had hitherto occurred, being a conglomerate, with rounded stones
of various sizes, many of them granite. The matrix was of a very dark
colour, and generally extremely hard; more rarely it was a coarse sand,
crumbling to pieces. This conglomerate was everywhere stratified, the beds
dipping to the south-west, at an angle of about forty-five degrees. During
the day the river varied much in width, being seldom less than twenty-five
yards, and sometimes as much as eighty. The stream was generally very
gentle, not exceeding two miles an hour, except in a few rapids, and the
river was in most places fordable. We encamped on the left bank, in a place
where it was shallow and wide.
On the 20th of September we continued at first to follow the left bank of the
Indus, which gradually assumed a more northerly direction. The mountains
on both sides approached much more closely to the river than they had done

the day before, and those on the right continued extremely lofty. The river
now flowed more rapidly, and was often wider and more shallow; one rapid
was not less than 150 yards in width. Banks of alluvial clayey conglomerate
were usually interposed between the mountains and the river, forming cliffs
which attained not unfrequently an elevation of fifty feet. These were
separated by projecting spurs, over which the road passed wherever they
advanced so close to the centre of the valley as to prevent a passage along
the level plain. Some small streamlets were crossed during the day, and in
consequence the vegetation was at times more varied, and at the same time
more luxuriant, than it had been the day before. A few bushes of Myricaria
were seen on the bank of the river; and in the lateral ravines the ordinary
shrubs and herbaceous vegetation were common. The only new plant was a
species of Labiatæ, a coarse-growing under-shrub, probably a species of
Ballota.
The hard conglomerate of the day before did not again
PUGHA RAVINE. occur, various forms of clay-slate being the prevailing
September, 1847.
rock. The steep slopes were, however, very frequently
covered with a talus of angular fragments, which obscured the structure of
the lower portions of the mountains, at the same time that it revealed the
nature of the higher strata, which would otherwise have been inaccessible.
Red and green jaspery rocks, very hard and brittle, were abundant, with
various forms of greenstone, at times closely resembling syenite. These
were evidently the same rocks as had been met with in the neighbourhood
of Hanle, and along the river for some way below that town. Their
recurrence here, therefore, tended to confirm what had for some time
appeared to me to be the prevailing strike of these formations, namely, from
S.S.E. to N.N.W.
After following the course of the Indus for about eight miles, we turned
abruptly to the left, ascending a narrow gorge, in which a considerable
stream flowed from the south-west. The slope was, from the first,
considerable, and the course of the ravine very winding. Steep rocky cliffs
rose precipitously on both sides, and generally approached so close to one
another that their tops could not be seen. The channel of the stream was at
first stony and quite bare, but after a mile bushes of the Myricaria became
common, fringing the stream, but nowhere growing at any distance from it.
These gradually increased in size and abundance, and at our camping place,

three miles from the commencement of the ravine, they were generally
small trees, many of them not less than fifteen feet in height, with stout
erect trunks five or six inches in diameter.
The morning of the 21st of September was bright and clear, and intensely
frosty, the unsettled weather which had continued since our leaving Hanle
having quite disappeared. Our road still lay up the gorge, which had quite
the same appearance as on the previous day. High precipices, or very steep
banks, hemmed in the stream on both sides. Small trees of Myricaria still
continued abundant in the immediate vicinity of the water; elsewhere, all
was as desolate as ever. Some of these trees were not less than a foot in
diameter; the trunk was generally very short, often branching within a foot
of the base. At intervals there was a good deal of alluvium, partly in the
shape of coarse conglomerate, partly a fine micaceous sand, filling up the
recesses at the bends of the ravine. After three miles, the ravine suddenly
expanded into a narrow plain, the surface of which was irregularly
undulating, and completely encrusted with salt. As this plain was interesting
in consequence of the production of borax, we encamped on the bank of the
little stream about a mile from the end of the gorge, and remained stationary
the next day in order to examine the nature of the locality in which the
borax is found.
As the day's journey was a very short one, we arrived at
HOT SPRINGS. the salt plain by eight o'clock A.M. The air was still quite
September, 1847.
frosty. While our tents were being pitched on a dry
bank a little way above the stream, we proceeded to its bank, and were not a
little surprised to find the water quite tepid, notwithstanding the extreme
cold of the air. On procuring a thermometer, it was found to have a
temperature of 69°. Advancing up the stream, we found that numerous hot
springs rose on its banks, and sometimes under the water. The hottest of
these had a temperature of 174°. From these springs gas was copiously
evolved, smelling strongly of sulphur; and in their immediate
neighbourhood the water of the little river had a faintly sulphurous taste,
though elsewhere it was quite pure and good. The stream, which was
perhaps twenty feet wide, was usually rather deep. Dense masses of aquatic
weeds, chiefly species of Zannichellia and Potamogeton, grew in the water,
and along the margins their dead stems, mixed with mud, formed immense
banks, scarcely strong enough to bear the weight of a man, and yet

seemingly quite solid. A small crustaceous animal was common among the
weeds, but though I searched with care I could find no shells. The stream
was full of fish, which swarmed among the weeds, and darted backwards
and forwards in the tepid water in immense shoals. They were generally
about six inches in length, and appeared to my inexperienced eye to belong
to two or three species, all different from those which had been seen at
Hanle. In the hottest water of the hot springs I collected three species of
Conferva.
The existence of the tree Myricaria in the gorges
MYRICARIA between Pugha and the Indus, which had appeared to us
TREES.
September, 1847. at the time very remarkable, was fully explained by the
occurrence of the hot springs, and the consequent high
temperature of the water of the stream, and was peculiarly interesting as an
illustration of the influence of temperature upon vegetation. It may fairly be
considered, I think, as a proof, that arboreous vegetation does not cease at
great elevations in consequence of the rarefaction of the air, but only on
account of the diminution of temperature which usually accompanies
increased elevation. The trees of Myricaria, it must be observed, came
abruptly to an end with the ravine, none occurring on the open plain. We
cannot suppose that the trifling increased elevation caused their
disappearance; it seems probable that the narrow walls of the gorge, by
concentrating the heat, prevented its escape, and that, therefore, the
temperature was more elevated than in the open plain, where the action of
winds and free radiation combined to lower it. The occurrence of fish in the
water of Pugha, at an elevation of nearly 15,500 feet above the level of the
sea, is also very remarkable, and still more strikingly demonstrative of the
same fact, inasmuch as it would certainly not have been very surprising that
air at that elevation should, from its rarity, be insufficient for the support of
life in animals breathing by gills.
At the gorge, where the narrow ravine expands into the lake plain of Pugha,
the rock is clay-slate, but the hills which skirt the open plain are micaceous
schist, varying much in appearance, often with large crystals of garnet, and
crumbling rapidly to decay. On the surface of the plain lay many scattered
boulders of a peculiar kind of granite, evidently transported from a
considerable distance along the stream; and in all the central parts of the
plain, a very remarkable conglomerate in horizontal strata, consisting of

angular fragments of the surrounding rocks, cemented together by
calcareous matter, was observed.
The whole of the plain is covered, to the depth of
BORAX PLAIN. several feet at least, with white salt, principally borax,
September, 1847.
which is obtained in a tolerably pure state by digging,
the superficial layer, which contains a little mixture of other saline matters,
being rejected. There is at present little export of borax from Pugha, the
demand for the salt in Upper India being very limited, and the export to
Europe almost at an end.
It has long been known that borax is produced naturally
BORAX LAKES OF in different parts of Tibet, and the salt imported thence
TIBET.
September, 1847. into India was at one time the principal source of
supply of the European market. I am not aware that any
of the places in which the borax is met with had previously been visited by
any European traveller, but the nature of the localities in which it occurs has
been the subject of frequent inquiry, and several more or less detailed
accounts have been made public. These differ considerably from one
another, and no description that I have met with accords with that of the
Pugha valley. Mr. Saunders[13] describes (from hearsay) the borax lake
north of Jigatzi as twenty miles in circumference, and says that the borax is
dug from its margins, the deeper and more central parts producing common
salt. From the account of Mr. Blane[14], who describes, from the
information of the natives, the borax district north of Lucknow, and,
therefore, in the more western part of the course of the Sanpu, it would
appear that the lake there contains boracic acid, and that the borax is
artificially prepared by saturating the sesquicarbonate of soda, which is so
universally produced on the surface of Tibet, with the acid. At least, the
statement that the production of borax is dependent on the amount of soda,
leads to this conclusion. The whole description, however, (as is, indeed, to
be expected in a native account of a chemical process,) is very obscure, and
not to be depended upon. Mr. Saunders does not notice any hot springs in
the neighbourhood of the borax; but in the more western district described
by Mr. Blane, hot springs seem to accompany the borax lake as at Pugha.
It is not impossible that the three districts in which the occurrence of borax
has been noticed, which are only a very small portion of those which exist,

may represent three stages of one and the same phenomenon. The boracic
acid lake may, by the gradual influx of soda, be gradually converted into
borax, which, from its great insolubility, will be deposited as it is formed.
On the drainage or drying-up of such a lake, a borax plain, similar to that of
Pugha, would be left behind[15].
From Pugha, two roads towards Le were open to us. We might either return
to the Indus, and follow the valley of that river throughout, or proceed by a
more direct route across the mountains to join the road from Lake
Chumoreri to Le, by which Mr. Trebeck had travelled on his way to Piti. As
we knew that the Indus route would be surveyed by Captain Strachey, who
was desirous of following the course of the river as far as practicable, we
preferred the more mountainous road, and, therefore, on leaving our
encampment at Pugha, on the morning of the 23rd of September, we
continued to ascend the valley of the little stream, on the banks of which we
had been encamped. For the first two miles the plain was nearly level, and
similar in character to what has just been described, hot springs being
observed at intervals.
Two miles from our encampment, we stopped and
SULPHUR MINE.
September, 1847.
examined the spot whence sulphur is obtained, at the
base of the mountain slope on the north side of the
valley. Ascending a few feet over a loose talus of shingle, which skirted the
bottom of the hill, we found two narrow caverns in the slaty rock,
apparently natural, or only a little widened by art, roughly circular, and less
than three feet in diameter at the mouth. One of these caverns continued a
long way inwards, nearly horizontally, but it contracted considerably in
diameter, and was so dark that we could not penetrate far. The rock was
principally gypsum, interstratified with very friable mica-slate. Sometimes
the gypsum was amorphous and powdery, at other times in needles two or
three inches long, perpendicular to the strata of slate. The sulphur was in
small quantities, scattered among the gypsum, and was more abundant in
the lower beds. It was frequently in very perfect crystals, not, however, of
any great size.
The air which issued from these funnel-shaped apertures was very sensibly
warm, and had a strongly sulphurous odour. Unfortunately, we had not
anticipated the necessity for observing the temperature, which was not by

any means oppressive, and was only remarkable in contrast with the
extreme cold of the external air.
In the neighbourhood of the sulphur-pits, the hot springs along the course of
the stream were very numerous, evolving much gas. A little higher they
ceased altogether, and the upper part of the plain was without any springs,
as was evident from the quantity of ice by which it was covered. For more
than a mile it was a dead level, and very swampy; but afterwards the valley
became gently sloping and gravelly, the little stream being often hidden
under the pebbles. Large boulders of the same granite which we had
observed the day before, were scattered over the surface. The vegetation in
this valley was extremely scanty, a few scattered tufts of Dama, and some
shrubby Artemisiæ, were occasionally seen, but the herbaceous vegetation
had been almost entirely destroyed by the intense morning frosts, which had
for some time been of daily occurrence. On the latter part of the day's
journey the rock on the mountain-side changed from mica-slate to gneiss, of
which very lofty scarped cliffs rose abruptly on the right hand. We
encamped on a level spot, after ten miles of almost imperceptible ascent.
Next morning we continued to ascend the valley, which was now very
rugged, from masses of boulders, which were heaped one on another to a
very great thickness. The stream had cut for itself a narrow channel, nearly
a hundred feet in depth, the walls of which were entirely composed of huge
incoherent masses of rock, all more or less angular. A walk of three miles
brought us to the crest of the pass, which was nearly level and grassy for
about a mile; its elevation was about 16,500 feet. The pass (Pulokanka La)
is a very deep depression in the axis of the chain, which runs parallel to the
left bank of the Indus, separating the waters tributary to that river from
those which join the Zanskar river, some of the feeders of the latter
springing from the valleys on the western slopes of these mountains. The
hills right and left of the pass rise very boldly into rugged masses,
contrasting strongly with the level plain which constitutes the pass, in
which the watershed is scarcely perceptible.
From the pass the descent was considerably more
SALT LAKE. abrupt than the ascent had been. The valley to the right
September, 1847.
was bare and stony, watered by a small streamlet, which
had, as on the eastern face of the pass, cut a deep channel for itself among

boulders. On descending, we turned gradually to the right, and a lake by
degrees came in view, towards the southern extremity of which the road
advanced over undulating hills of fine clay, full of fresh-water shells, almost
entirely of one species of Lymnæa, of which the specimens were extremely
numerous. This lake is the Thogji Chumo of Mr. Trebeck, who travelled
along it on his journey from Le to Piti.
I was much surprised, and not a little pleased, to find
FOSSILIFEROUS that the clay-beds contained fossils; as, except on one
CLAYS.
September, 1847. occasion in Piti, where I found one or two specimens of
a small Planorbis, I had in vain sought in the clayey
beds for any trace of organized beings. Here, however, shells were in
prodigious abundance, and as the species was a large one, they were very
conspicuous. The clay formation was horizontally stratified, and quite
impalpable. The uppermost beds were at least a hundred feet above the
level of the lake; and as the valley by which we descended was in its lower
part almost horizontal, the lacustrine beds extended to a considerable
distance from the lake, forming a slightly undulating surface, over which
the road ran.
After reaching the banks of the lake, the road kept its eastern shore
throughout its whole length, which was about three miles, and we
encamped close to its north end, on the edge of a level salt plain. Our
elevation was about 15,500 feet. The margins of the lake, which was
intensely saline, were generally very shallow, and its banks often swampy,
and covered with saline plants, especially Chenopodiaceæ; a species of
Suæda, with cylindrical fleshy leaves, was especially abundant, growing in
the soft mud close to the banks of the lake. A Blysmus, several grasses, and
Ranunculus Cymbalaria were also common along the banks of the lake. No
shells could be seen in the water. The surrounding hills were not very lofty,
but often rose abruptly several hundred feet, and were in general rugged and
rocky. At the height of perhaps 150 feet above the lake, a weathered mark
could be traced on the face of the mountains, wherever they were rocky,
everywhere quite horizontal. This was most conspicuous from a distance,
and became indistinct on a near approach. It appeared to indicate, as I shall
hereafter show, the level of the surface of the lake at some former period.

On the morning of the 25th of September, our day's journey commenced by
rounding the north end of the lake, keeping at some distance from its
margin to avoid swamp. For about two miles from the northern end, the
ground continued almost level, and contained great masses of the lacustrine
clay quite horizontally stratified, and very little higher than the surface of
the water, but here quite without shells. A wide valley, rising gently towards
the north, lay beyond this level plain; but our road, passing across the end
of the lake, ascended another valley, which ran in a north-west direction
from its north-west corner. The slope of this valley was very gentle. It was
bounded by low undulating or rocky hills, on which, where the surface was
suitable, the same remarkable water-mark could be traced continuously, and
still, to all appearance, quite horizontal. The centre of the valley was
occupied by clay, at first non-fossiliferous, but a little further on containing
a great abundance of shells, the same as in the bed seen the day before. A
few specimens of a very small bivalve, seemingly a species of Cyclas, were
also met with; but they were so very rare, that they bore an infinitesimally
small proportion to the Lymnæa.
For several miles the ancient water-mark could be
ANCIENT WATER- traced along the sides of the hills, appearing to descend
MARK.
September, 1847. gradually, as the valley slightly rose in elevation. Beds
of clay continued to occupy the middle of the valley
FORMER OUTLET nearly as long as the water-mark remained visible. At
OF LAKE. last it disappeared where a depression on the left,
September, 1847. leading to the valley of Rukchin, seemed to indicate the
former drainage of the lake, at a time when its waters
occupied a much higher level, and contained in a living state the large
mollusca of which the shelly coverings still remain in such vast abundance
in the clay. As it was at the very edge of the lacustrine clay formation that
the shells were so abundant, while the masses of clay in the vicinity of our
encampment of the 25th, at the north-east extremity of the lake, were
without any, it would appear that the species was quite littoral, while in the
more central parts fine mud was deposited, without shells. The outlet was
indicated to me by Major Cunningham, who in a previous journey had
travelled along a part of the Rukchin valley in descending from the
Lachalang pass towards the salt lake. As it may fairly be inferred that the
lake was quite fresh at the time when it was inhabited by Lymnææ and

Cyclades, it is satisfactory to know that so very small an increase of the
height of the surface of the water, as about 150 feet, would be sufficient to
admit of its discharging its waters along the course of an open valley into
one of the tributaries of the Zanskar river.
Our road, after passing the ravine on the left, along which I suppose the
discharge of the lake at its original level to have been effected, turned still
more towards the north, and ascending an open valley to the right, crossed a
low col, or pass, and descended into a small basin surrounded by hills,
which was evidently at some former period the bed of a small lake, for it
was filled with pure fine clay, in which, however, I could not observe any
shells. From this plain we passed into another open valley, up which we
ascended in a northerly direction for five or six miles, encamping where the
mountains on both sides began to close in a circle. Throughout the day we
had been gradually but very gently ascending, and the height of our
encampment was probably about 16,500 feet. We were about two miles
from the Tunglung pass, a depression in the range parallel to the Indus, the
same ridge which we had crossed before descending to the salt lake. The
axis of the range had been very near us on the right hand since we had
crossed it on the 24th, and had sent down a succession of spurs, separated
by wide valleys, along which we had been travelling. These separating
ridges appeared usually to rise to an elevation of from one to two thousand
feet above the nearly level valleys which lay at their bases, and were,
though often rocky, less remarkably so than in many previous parts of our
journey.
The elevated country surrounding the sources of the
ASCENT TOWARDS Parang and Hanle rivers, and those of the more eastern
TUNGLUNG PASS.
September, 1847. branches of the Zanskar, as well as that encircling Lake
Chumoreri, constitutes as near an approach to what
Humboldt has denominated a knot (nœud) of mountains, as any part of the
Himalaya which I have visited; not that I conceive there is any reason to
suppose that we have in this part of the chain an intersection of two
mountain masses of different ages, to which cause the distinguished
geographer is disposed to assign those aggregations of mountains which he
has so designated. There is, however, as indicated by the origin of so many
considerable streams in a confined area, an extensive tract of highly
elevated land, in which the valleys have a very gentle slope, while the

surrounding mountains are not much elevated above them. The whole tract
is nevertheless eminently mountainous, if contrasted, not with the still more
rugged districts by which it is on every side surrounded, but with the hilly
districts of less alpine countries.
In the elevated district which we had been traversing since crossing the
Parang pass, there is little or no cultivation, a field or two at Hanle and at
the monastery on the banks of Lake Chumoreri (as I am informed by Major
Cunningham) being the only exceptions. The district, however, is much
frequented by a nomade population of shepherds, who, living in tents, move
about with their flocks as the abundance of food or their own caprice may
lead them. Clusters of black tents were now and then seen by us at intervals,
especially in Rupchu, by which name the districts round the salt lake are
known to the wandering inhabitants.
During the whole of the 25th of September, a furious north wind had
continued to blow, accompanied by a cloudy sky, and all the indications of
extremely unsettled weather, such as had been met with in the
neighbourhood of Hanle only a week before. It was evident that, as winter
approached, these periods of disturbance recurred more and more
frequently. This time the fury of the blast increased as the day advanced,
and after dark the cold in our tents was very severe. About 10 P.M. it began
to snow slightly, and at daybreak on the 26th the ground was covered with
snow to a depth of between two and three inches. As we had a prospect of
arriving in milder regions by diminishing our elevation during the day, we
hastened our departure as much as possible. A mile and a half of level
ground brought us directly under the pass, the ascent to which was at last
very steep. The road was very stony and rugged, but everything being
covered with snow a good deal deeper than on the open plain on which we
had encamped, we did not linger at the summit. The wind still blew strongly
from the north, driving in our faces the still falling snow, and opposing our
progress towards the crest, which was very rocky, being composed of a
mass of hard stratified quartz. The elevation of the summit was about
17,500 feet.
The descent from the pass was very rapid. After a few
TUNGLUNG PASS. paces, we were in a narrow and steep ravine, in which
September, 1847.
we continued to descend very abruptly, without

obtaining any view of the surrounding country. Three miles from the
summit, at perhaps 2000 feet lower level, snow ceased to lie on the ground,
but it continued to fall lightly till the afternoon. Large rounded tufts of an
Alsinaceous plant were common on the upper part of the descent,
conspicuous under the snow. Lower down, the remains of species of
Corydalis and Saussurea were discoverable in crevices of the rocks, the
only remains of the alpine vegetation. The rock on both sides was clay-
slate.
Continuing to descend rapidly, the ravine widened a little, and became filled
with a most extensive development of alluvial conglomerate, forming thick
masses, worn into pinnacles and fantastic shapes, like the similar deposits
above Sungnam in Kunawar. This was particularly conspicuous where a
lateral valley joined that along which we descended, a flat-topped
promontory of alluvium there projecting far beyond the primitive rocks.
After a descent of about 4000 feet of perpendicular
GIAH. height, we arrived at Giah, elevated 13,400 feet above
September, 1847.
the sea, not a little glad to be among houses, in a more
temperate region than it had been for some time our lot to travel in. We took
up our quarters in the upper room of a two-storied house, which had been
prepared for our reception, and willingly agreed to halt a day in order to
give time for arrangements, for a change of porters, and a rest to our
servants and guides. Giah will be recollected, by those acquainted with
Moorcroft's travels, as the place where he entered the Tibetan country, and
where he was for some time kept in considerable uncertainty as to the
nature of the reception he would meet with. Since that time the supremacy
of the Sikhs has entirely changed the state of the country; and though the
king (Gylpo) of Giah still exists, he does not even exercise a nominal
sovereignty, but lives a pensioner on the Sikh government, without power
and with a very limited income.
The influence of the Sikhs has, however, produced little change in the
character of the people, as their occupation of the country, except in Le
itself, and at one or two military posts, is entirely nominal, and only
maintained by the moral influence of their known superiority in resources
and military skill. The gumpa, or monastery, as in Moorcroft's time, crowns
a rocky hill on the right bank of the Giah stream, while the town, or more

properly village, on the left bank, is built on the steep alluvial banks high
above the stream. There was a considerable extent of cultivation round the
village, barley and peas being the chief crops; both had been cut, but were
still lying in small heaps in the fields. Notwithstanding the great elevation, a
number of poplar-trees, of the large cordate-leaved species (which seems
identical with P. balsamifera), occur in the village, several of which attain a
considerable size.
On the morning of the 28th of September we resumed
GIAH RAVINE. our journey towards Le. By crossing the Tunglung pass,
September, 1847.
we had again gained the eastern slope of the ridge
dividing the waters of the Zanskar from those of the Indus. The Giah stream
flows towards the latter river with a north-easterly course, and two marches
of little more than seven miles each, brought us to the banks of the Indus at
a village called Upshi. For the first mile after leaving Giah, the valley was
somewhat open, with steep banks of alluvial conglomerate; it then
contracted rather suddenly into a narrow ravine, with steep rocky walls,
composed of highly inclined strata of conglomerate and sandstone. Owing
to the diminished elevation, the vegetation was considerably more
recognizable than it had been for the last week, and several shrubby plants
were seen which had long been absent. Ephedra was common in the
crevices of the rocks, and the Tibetan rose and a small shrubby Lonicera
grew on the gravelly banks of the little stream.
At Miru, a considerable village where we encamped,
REMARKABLE the valley expanded into a little plain, filled as usual
GORGE.
September, 1847. with alluvium, and covered with cultivation. A few
poplar-trees occurred in the village. The ravine
contracted immediately below this place, and was, if possible, more narrow
and rocky than the day before, as the little stream had to be crossed not less
than four or five times in as many miles, on small wooden bridges of rough
planks. A very beautiful Labiate shrub, a species of Perowskia, with bright
blue flowers, which I afterwards found very abundant in the Indus valley
from 12,000 to 8000 feet, was here met with for the first time. Close to its
junction with the Indus, the ravine expanded into an open plain, well
covered with houses and enclosures, with scattered poplar and willow trees,
as well as a few apricots, and traversed by canals of irrigation conducted

from the little Giah rivulet. The Indus is here not more than forty feet wide,
flowing swiftly over large boulders, and quite unfordable.
Throughout the whole course of this very remarkable gorge by which we
descended from Giah, the rock continued to be conglomerate, alternating
with strata of sandstone and of a very friable slate. The conglomerate was
extremely hard, and generally of a dark brown colour. The matrix, which
had often a semi-vitrified appearance, was not less hard than the enclosed
stones, which were all rounded and very various in size and composition,
jasper rock, granite, and quartz being all seen. The sandstone which
accompanied the conglomerate varied much in colour, various shades of
red, brown, and green being predominant. It was also extremely hard. These
strata, which were highly inclined, often nearly vertical, were in general
well marked, in consequence of the beds of hard sandstone and
conglomerate being thrown out in relief by the more rapid decay of the soft
slates with which they alternated. The dip was everywhere very variable,
and several very distinct sections were displayed, where it was evident that
the strata were curved and sinuated. The curves observed were convex
below; the strike of the strata was nearly perpendicular to the general
direction of the ravine, or from north-west to south-east.
From Upshi, our course lay down the Indus valley in a
INDUS VALLEY. direction west of north. The width of the Indus, which
September, 1847.
was a rapid stream, varied from thirty or forty to a
hundred feet. Platforms of alluvium, almost level-topped, and often
attaining a thickness of a hundred feet, were interposed between the river
and the mountains, which, still composed of highly inclined strata of
conglomerate and its associated rocks, advanced in a succession of spurs
towards the centre of the valley. These platforms were quite bare of
vegetation, a few tufts of a prickly Echinops being the only plant worthy of
note which I observed. No villages were passed till we reached Marsilang,
at which we encamped after a journey of about ten miles. Here there was
very extensive cultivation on the surface of the platform, on both sides of a
deep ravine, cut in the alluvium by a considerable stream, which descended
from the west. The plantations of willow and poplar were very luxuriant.
The willows were planted in rows, and were frequently pollarded, their
twigs being in great demand for baskets and other useful purposes in so
treeless a country. When allowed to grow their full size, they spread much,

and attain a length of upwards of thirty feet. The cultivated willows of Tibet
are mostly European forms; Salix fragilis and S. alba are the most common.
The poplars are of two sorts: one a spreading tree with large cordate leaves,
which was first seen in Upper Kunawar, and is common in all the Tibetan
villages, up to the highest limit of tree cultivation; it is quite identical with
Populus balsamifera, which I cannot distinguish in the herbarium from P.
laurifolia, of Ledebour. The other, which I had not before seen in Tibet, was
a tall, erect, and slender tree, with much darker foliage and smaller leaves;
it seems, so far as my specimens enable me to decide, to be the common
black poplar (P. nigra) of Europe.
At Marsilang the Indus is crossed by a good wooden
MARSILANG. bridge, thirty-four paces in length, which enables its
September, 1847.
inhabitants to communicate with the large villages and
extensive cultivated tracts on the east bank of the river. As soon as we left
the cultivated lands of Marsilang, on the morning of the 1st of October, we
found ourselves again on a platform of alluvium; but after a few miles we
reached another village, with extensive cultivation, and on the latter part of
the day's journey passed through a succession of villages separated by
gradually shorter intervals of unprofitable and barren land. These cultivated
tracts were everywhere well irrigated; indeed, every spot, where irrigation
was easy of execution, seemed to be under cultivation. Each village had its
plantation of poplars and willows, not, however, so plentiful as at
Marsilang. The grain had everywhere been cut and housed, the operations
of harvest being seemingly quite at an end. The whole of this richly-
cultivated district is called Chashut.
Our journey of the 2nd of October was for about six miles through an
uninterrupted tract of cultivation, very little elevated above the level of the
river, the alluvial platforms being here of inconsiderable thickness. The
direction of the valley was also much more westerly, and the mountains on
both sides had receded considerably from the river, leaving an open plain of
five or six miles in width. Numerous irrigation channels intersected the
fields, which gradually, as we proceeded, united one to another, till at last
they all combined into one large and deep canal, by which the superfluous
waters were conveyed to the Indus. Crossing this canal, we reached the
river, which we crossed by a bridge twenty-five paces in length. A few
houses, and a small patch of cultivation, lay on the right bank of the river,

immediately beyond the bridge, but no extent of fertile country; low spurs
of rocky hills descending from the north, close down upon the Indus. After
crossing the bridge we turned up a wide and gravelly valley between two of
these ridges, the course of which we followed, ascending very gradually
among large boulders, strewed over the surface, for about three miles. We
then turned abruptly to the left, through a narrow ravine in the low granitic
hills by which the valley was on that side bounded. Emerging from this, we
entered a quite similar and parallel valley, and obtained our first view of the
town of Le, covering the top and slopes of a steep hill by which the valley
was apparently terminated, about two miles beyond the point at which we
entered it.
Le, the capital of the province of Ladak, and the most
LE. important place, and only town, of Western Tibet, is
September, 1847.
situated about three miles from the Indus, in the upper
part of an open valley, which rises gradually as it recedes from the river, so
that the town is rather more than 1200 feet above its level, or about 11,800
feet above the sea. The town occupies the slope, and surrounds the base of a
low spur, on the left or east side of the valley, while the centre and right side
are occupied by extensive tracts of cultivation, the fields rising in terraces
one above another, and watered by little rills drawn from a stream which
descends in the centre of the valley. The aspect of the town, which is very
peculiar, is faithfully represented in the frontispiece to the second volume of
Moorcroft's Travels, from a sketch by Mr. Trebeck.
In the neighbourhood of the town there are several small enclosures,
planted with poplar and willow trees, in one of which we pitched our tents.
These plantations were all young, a very fine garden of old trees having
been, it was said, destroyed at the time of the Sikh invasion. The governor
of Ladak, a deputy of Maharaja Gulab Singh, the ruler of Kashmir, to whom
the rule of Ladak has devolved as a dependency of the latter country, resides
in the town; but the detachment of troops, amounting to about 150 men,
who form the military garrison of the place, occupy a small square fort on
the west side of the valley, about a mile from the town of Le.
The peculiarities of the Buddhist religion, as practised in Tibet, which are
everywhere conspicuous in all parts of Ladak, are especially remarkable in
the capital. The principal monasteries in the neighbourhood of Le are at

some distance from the town in the vicinity of villages both up and down
the Indus; but religious edifices, of the many kinds which are everywhere so
common in Tibet, are seen all round Le in great numbers. Along the road by
which we approached the town, there is a very long building, of the kind
called Mané, extending for more than half a mile. It consists of two parallel
walls, twelve or fifteen feet apart, and nearly six feet high, the intervals
between which are filled up with stones and rubbish, and the whole covered
with a sloping roof, which rises at a gentle angle to the central ridge,
midway between the two walls. On the roof are laid large slabs of slate,
every one of which is covered with Tibetan letters, or more rarely with a
rude drawing of a temple. The words on these stones are (I believe,
invariably) a repetition of the mystical Buddhist prayer, from one of the
words of which these curious, and apparently useless, erections take their
name. The Mane seems one of the most indispensable accompaniments of a
Tibetan village, and they may occasionally be seen even in desert tracts; so
that the amount of labour which has been expended in their construction
must have been very great, some of the largest containing many millions of
repetitions of the words Om Mane Padme Hom. In the smaller villages they
are often very inferior in size, sometimes not more than twenty or thirty feet
in length, and three feet high. Every traveller has constant occasion to
notice that in passing these walls the Tibetans always leave them on the
right hand, considering it both wrong and unlucky to do otherwise; those
proceeding in contrary directions therefore take opposite sides.
Equally conspicuous in the environs of Le are the urn-
RELIGIOUS like buildings, called Chokten or Chosten, which are, I
EDIFICES OF
TIBET. believe, erected over the ashes of Lamas, or priests, and
September, 1847. are, therefore, in a country where a third or fourth part
of the male population adopt a monastic life,
particularly abundant. Long rows of these, consisting of twenty or more
urns of various sizes, may often be seen in conspicuous places above the
villages, forming, from the brilliant whitewash with which they are covered
when new, very prominent objects. Many of those near Le are of large size,
and ornamented with rude paintings of dragons and other mythological
animals of uncouth form.
The religion of Tibet, from the remarkable nature of its institutions and
ceremonies, has of late years attracted much attention; but as, from the

hurried nature of my journey, I had no opportunity of acquiring any
information regarding it which has not already been made public, it is not
necessary for me to dwell upon it at any length. Throughout the whole of
Western Tibet, the monasteries are very poor, in comparison with those in
the neighbourhood of Lassa, of which we read such gorgeous descriptions;
all their wealth in silver and gold having been plundered by the Sikhs,
during their short possession of the country as far east as Garu and
Taklakhar. Still the number of Lamas does not seem to have much
diminished, though they are more dependent upon the cultivation of the soil
than in Eastern Tibet, where some of the monasteries are said to contain
thousands of priests.
The town of Le is said to contain about 3000
LE. inhabitants. Many of the houses are very high, the
September, 1847.
former residence of the king containing seven stories.
They are usually built of unburnt brick, formed from the fine lacustrine clay
of the neighbourhood. The Sikh Thannadar has lately built for himself a
house of stone, but he found it necessary to bring lime from Nubra, a
distance of nearly forty miles, none being procurable so near in the valley
of the Indus. The timber used in the construction of the houses is all poplar
or willow, both of which are found to last a very long time in the arid
climate of Tibet. The beams are laid perhaps two feet apart, and covered
sometimes with small planking, but more generally with brushwood, over
which is laid a thick coating of clay, so as to form a flat roof, to which there
is usually access by a small stair or ladder.
The mountain ranges which bound the valley in which the town of Le is
situated, though not lofty, are very generally rocky and inaccessible. They
consist partly of distinctly stratified gneiss, but principally of a fine white
granite, which decays with great rapidity, and contains many irregular
nodules of an iron grey colour, much finer in the grain than the rest. The
width of the fertile plain of Chashut, over which I made the last two
marches down the Indus, had prevented me from ascertaining the nature of
the rocks on the mountains to the left, so that I cannot fix the exact point
where the granitic eruption comes in contact with the slates and
conglomerates of the Giah ravine.

CHAPTER VII.
Departure from Le—Sabu Valley—Pass between Le and Nubra—Snow—Encamp at 15,500 feet—
Digar—Valley of Shayuk—Alluvium—Populus Euphratica—Tsatti—Nubra river—District of
Nubra—Villages—Irrigation—Saline soil—Isolated rocks—Chirasa—Panamik—Lower Nubra—
Platforms of Alluvium—Traces of a great flood—Unmaru—Kuru—Great contraction of valley—
Mountain pass of Waris—Boghdan ravine—Chorbat—Mahommedan population—Villages—
Outburst of granite—Siksa—Khapalu—Open plain of Khapalu—Junction of Shayuk and Indus—
Nar—Iskardo plain—Description of Iskardo—Aqueduct—Fort—Lacustrine clay formation—
Vegetation.

While we were at Le there was a good deal of unsettled weather, and two
very slight falls of snow. On the 9th of October we had an opportunity of
observing an eclipse of the sun, which was welcomed by the inhabitants of
the town with a most discordant beating of drums, intended to frighten
away the demons who had taken possession of the sun. After a week's halt,
Major Cunningham and myself started in different directions; Major
Cunningham following the course of the Indus, and proceeding by Dras to
Kashmir, while I crossed the range of mountains to the north into the valley
of the Shayuk, and descended along that river to its junction with the Indus.
The mountain range which separates these two rivers barely rises into the
region of perpetual snow, a very few peaks only retaining any snow
throughout the year. It is therefore crossed by passes at the head of each
valley; but the pass nearest to Le having a small but very steep glacier on its
northern face, is difficult and dangerous in autumn, after the snow has
entirely melted from the surface of the ice. I was, therefore, recommended
to cross into Nubra, by a pass a few miles further east, at the head of the
valley of Sabu, which is separated from that in which the town of Le lies,
by a steep ridge of granite hills.
I left Le on the morning of the 11th of October. The
SABU VALLEY. road to the Sabu valley enters the granite range close to
October, 1847.
the town, ascending a narrow stony valley in an easterly
direction, and crossing by a short steep ascent a depression in the ridge, to
descend into a narrow ravine which has a south-east course into the Sabu
valley, up which the road led. The hills were very stony and bare, or
covered with the large Echinops of the Indus valley, of which the heads of
fruit were falling to pieces. I encamped for the night in the valley of Sabu,

which is very like that of Le, with pretty extensive cultivation, but few
trees.
Next day I crossed the pass. The ascent was very long
LAZGUNG PASS. and fatiguing, and, from the lateness of the season, very
October, 1847.
uninteresting. A cold bleak wind blew from the north in
strong gusts, and the sky was overcast with light clouds. The valley
contracted into a rocky ravine before the road left it to ascend rapidly the
steep mountain-sides, which were covered with masses of boulders, heaped
together in great confusion. The upper part of the ascent, which was very
steep, was covered with snow, which lay on the loose stones of the crest to
the depth of about a foot. It was late in the evening before I reached the top
of the pass, the distance being much greater than I had been led to
anticipate. The elevation of the summit, by the observations of Captain
Strachey, is about 18,300 feet.
On the north face of the pass snow lay thickly for two miles or rather more,
and more scantily for a mile further. As evening had begun to close before I
reached the summit, I hurried my descent as much as possible. Fortunately,
a great part of my baggage porters were in advance, but it had been for
some time quite dark before I reached a spot sufficiently free of snow to be
suitable for an encampment. The night was intensely cold, the sky being
clear; and next morning, at half-past six o'clock, the thermometer stood at
15°. At the same time I found that water boiled at 184°, indicating an
elevation of upwards of 15,500 feet.
In the morning I made a short march to the village of Digar, which I ought
to have reached the day before, had not the darkness prevented me. The
distance was not more than four miles, and the descent about 2500 feet,
Digar being rather more than 13,000 feet above the level of the sea. The
general direction of the valley in which I was encamped was north-east, and
it was surrounded on all sides by extremely rugged mountains, now much
covered with snow, down to about 14,000 feet. Throughout the descent, vast
piles of boulders, heaped one on another, and forming steep banks,
evidently moraines, occupied the flanks of the valley. The village of Digar,
though small, and possessing only two small trees, had a considerable
extent of cultivation, and seemed prosperous. It was situated on the left side
of the valley, or rather on the slope of the mountains on that side opposite a

lateral ravine, from which a stream of boulders had at one time descended.
The centre of the valley was much lower, being excavated out of the
alluvium which had once filled the whole.
On the morning of the 14th of October, I descended to
VALLEY OF the valley of the Shayuk, making a march of fifteen
SHAYUK.
October, 1847. miles to the village of Tsatti, on the right bank of that
river. The road skirted the steep stony hills on the left
side of the valley, parallel to the Digar stream, for about two miles,
descending rapidly, but still high above the bottom of the dell. The Digar
ravine, before reaching the Shayuk, joined a wider one which descends
from the south-east, and the united valley has a nearly due north direction.
As the road turned by degrees to the left, round a spur of the mountains, the
Shayuk valley came in sight, 1500 feet below. It was of considerable width,
and very stony, barren, and desolate. Mountains of black slate, very lofty
and rugged, in many places too steep for snow to lie, were seen to the north-
east, from among which the river appeared to issue into the more open tract
immediately below.
The road did not descend at once to the level of the river, but, turning
abruptly to the left, proceeded along a platform of alluvium, at least a
thousand feet in thickness, for more than a mile, before it descended, which
it did at last very abruptly down a steep sandy slope. The mass of alluvium
was, in many places, almost pure sand, but in general many pebbles and
boulders were mixed with it. Towards the river it presented scarped cliffs, in
which its composition was well seen.
The Shayuk, where I descended to it, flowed through a
POPULUS wide gravelly plain, varying in breadth from one to two
EUPHRATICA.
October, 1847. miles, and quite destitute of vegetation. Rocky spurs of
black slate and conglomerate, with many granite veins,
projecting from the mountains on the south, occasionally narrowed the
valley, while the recesses were generally filled with a mass of alluvium. The
river was occasionally divided into several branches. In some of the
recesses small trees of a peculiar species of poplar (P. Euphratica) were not
uncommon, growing in pure sand. This tree is remarkable for its extended
distribution. Originally discovered on the banks of the Euphrates, it has
been found by Griffith, and more recently by Dr. Stocks and others, to be

abundant on the banks of the Indus, in Sind and Multan. It occurs also at
intervals along the valley of the Indus, within the mountains, but appears to
be far from common, and to confine itself to hot sandy places. In several
parts of Nubra it is common enough, but only, so far as I have observed, on
the south side of the Shayuk. This poplar is also remarkable for the very
changeable shape of its leaves, which vary from broadly deltoid and
coarsely toothed, to narrow-linear and quite entire. The leaves of the full-
grown tree are generally broad and much toothed, while young plants have
very narrow leaves; the shoots of pollarded plants, which are common, the
tree being much used for fuel, are also narrow.
After proceeding parallel to the river for six or seven miles, I crossed to the
right bank. The stream was undivided, and about a hundred yards broad. It
had a considerable velocity, and was about three feet deep in the centre. Its
bed was full of large waterworn boulders and gravel, and the banks on both
sides were, for a great distance from the river, of similar structure, and so
little elevated above its surface, that a very slight rise of the water would
have been sufficient to submerge them.
From the village of Tsatti, at which I encamped on the 14th of October, I
followed the course of the Shayuk to its junction with a large stream
descending from the north, which, from the name of the district in which
the junction is situated, is commonly called the Nubra river. Thence I
ascended the latter stream for about twenty miles, with the intention of
making an attempt to penetrate to the north-east, across the mountains to the
Nubra Chu of Vigne; but the lateness of the season, and especially the
occurrence of several falls of snow, which extended down the mountain
slopes almost as far as the plain, induced me to place reliance on the
assurances of the people of the valley, that the difficulties of the road would
be quite insurmountable.
The district of Nubra includes the whole course of the
DISTRICT OF Shayuk river, from its great bend to the eastward of the
NUBRA.
October, 1847. point where I joined it below Digar, till it again
contracts nine or ten miles below the village of
Unmaru; and also the lower part of the valley of the Nubra river, as far up,
indeed, as population and cultivation extend. The place of junction of the
two rivers is elevated, according to my observation of the boiling-point of

water, about 10,600 feet above the level of the sea. This may be considered
as the mean elevation of the whole district; for the cultivated tracts nowhere
rise to any height above the bed of the rivers, which have everywhere a very
gentle and apparently uniform inclination.
The valley of the Shayuk is widest at the point of its
DESCRIPTION OF junction with the Nubra river. At this place the level
NUBRA.
October, 1847. plain, including the gently sloping alluvium on each
side, has a breadth of about six miles. The width of the
valley gradually diminishes as we recede from the centre, the mountains
encroaching more and more, till at last they hem in the river, leaving no
space for villages or cultivation, and the valley ceases to be inhabited. The
centre of the plain is uniformly occupied by a flat gravelly expanse, one to
three miles in width, scarcely raised above the surface of the river, which,
when flooded, covers a great part of it. On both sides of this gravelly bed,
low platforms of alluvium, in the form of triangles, with their apices resting
on the mountain ravines, slope very gently towards the base of mountains,
which rise abruptly and precipitously on both sides of the valley, to a height
of three or four thousand feet. Some of the more projecting spurs, even
where the width of the valley is greatest, advance so far into the open plain
as to abut upon the river and compel the traveller to ascend their slopes, in
order to cross them in travelling from village to village.
The gravelly plain over which the Shayuk flows, is usually quite devoid of
vegetation. A few scattered bushes of Tamarix and Myricaria appear,
indeed, near its junction with the Nubra river, but further up the gravel is
absolutely bare: in this it contrasts strongly with similar portions in the
valley of the Nubra river, which are densely wooded. The cause of this
difference seems to lie in the frequent floods which have, at different
periods, devastated the whole course of the Shayuk valley, from the glaciers
of Sassar. These floods, which appear to be due to the blocking-up of the
upper course of the river by the ice, have been most destructive to the
prosperity of the valley.
Throughout Nubra, the villages, with scarcely an
VILLAGES. exception, occupy the surface of the low platforms of
October, 1847.
alluvium which fill up the funnel-shaped terminations
of the ravines. In Tibet the size of the villages, and the extent of cultivation

by which they are surrounded, entirely depend on the supply of water and
on the facility with which it can be diverted from its bed for purposes of
irrigation; and as, in this district, the width and horizontality of the alluvial
tracts are very favourable to the industry of man, the villages are in general
large and surrounded with much cultivation. Indeed, a super-abundance of
water is in general indicated by the swampy banks of the irrigation canals,
as the water, oozing through the loose gravel of the platforms, produces a
dense jungle of Hippophaë scrub, which makes the cultivated tracts
conspicuous, even in winter, when the trees are bare of leaves and the fields
of crops.
This copious supply of water no doubt depends on the great elevation of the
surrounding mountains, which everywhere rise, if not above, yet almost to
the level of perpetual snow, which is about 18,000 feet, so that at the head
of each little stream there is either a glacier, or a snow-bed which does not
entirely melt till the latter end of autumn, affording therefore a nearly
perennial supply of water. Even in the hottest months slight falls of snow
are of occasional occurrence at all elevations above 16,000 feet; and as
every range rises much above that height, a small addition to the supply is
thus obtained.
The villages have generally a few fruit-trees, as well as a good many
poplars and willows, which yield almost the only timber the inhabitants can
command. The walnut and Elæagnus, both of which trees find their upper
limit in Nubra, are so extremely scarce that they are not available for such
purposes.
In most parts of Nubra the soil is very generally saline, the dry grassy plains
which are common on the banks of the streams being generally covered
with a copious efflorescence of carbonate of soda; while the abundance of
Salsolæ and other Chenopodiaceous plants on the dry alluvial plains, and
even on the rocky hills, seems to prove that the saline matter is not confined
to the immediate vicinity of water, or to the lowest levels, but is very
generally diffused over the surface.
The valley of the Nubra river, for upwards of twenty
VALLEY OF miles, is very similar in general character to that of the
NUBRA RIVER.
October, 1847. Shayuk. The same wide gravelly expanse occupies its

centre, forming a plain of one or two miles in width, through which the
river runs in many branches. A great part of this gravelly plain, particularly
on the right side of the valley, is covered by a dense thicket of Hippophaë,
extending continuously for four or five miles, usually impervious, except in
certain beaten tracts, and tenanted by vast numbers of hares. The gravel on
which this jungle grows is almost on a level with the river, so that it is very
generally swampy, and traversed here and there by little streamlets of water.
The Hippophaë is here a small tree, attaining a height of fifteen feet, with a
short thick trunk and stiff crooked spinous branches.
In several parts of the course of the Nubra river, low
CHIRASA. hills rise in the valley, isolated, or nearly so, from the
October, 1847.
mountain ranges behind, and forming, therefore, a
remarkable feature. On one of these, on the right bank of the river, is
situated the little fort and village of Chirasa, a considerable mass of houses,
of a class a little better than those usual in the district, and conspicuous
from their elevated position. The rock on which they stand is composed of a
hard porphyry, which has been injected from below, and has displaced the
black slate, which is the more usual rock in the lower part of this valley.
In the lower part of the ravine behind the town of Chirasa, the alluvium is
more extensively developed than usual in this valley, where aqueous action
seems in a great measure to have removed the accumulation of detritus,
which once, no doubt, occupied the whole valley. Beds of gravelly
conglomerate, at times passing into fine clay, may here be seen, at a height
of perhaps 1000 feet, on the mountain-sides in isolated patches, generally
faced by cliffs, in which a tendency to horizontal stratification is
observable.
The lower part of the Nubra valley is very fertile, and
NUBRA VALLEY. on the east side cultivation extends, with little
October, 1847.
interruption, from Tirit as far as Panamik, in a belt
varying in width from a few hundred feet to nearly a mile. The villages are
large, and seem populous. Many of the houses are very substantially built,
and the long sacred walls, called Mané, are numerous, and of great length
and size. Several watercourses, which are carried along the sides of the hills
at an elevation of several hundred feet above the cultivation, and are easily
recognizable by the fringe of Hippophaë bushes, which forms an

impenetrable belt along their margins, indicate a degree of industry and
energy very unusual in Tibet, where, however, the amount of cultivable land
is seldom sufficient to promise much reward to any extensive and elaborate
system of irrigation.
As the advanced period of the year rendered exploration at great elevations
scarcely practicable, and made it desirable to reach a lower level as soon as
possible, I did not remain more than a week in Nubra. On the 22nd of
October I started from Lyakjung, at the mouth of the Nubra river, towards
Iskardo, following the course of the Shayuk river. The district of Nubra
extends about thirty miles below the junction of the river of that name with
the Shayuk; but I found the level valley gradually to diminish in width as I
descended. On the 22nd of October I encamped at Hundar; on the 23rd, at
Tertse; and on the 24th at Unmaru, beyond which village there is no
cultivation, and the valley becomes extremely narrow. On the 25th of
October I reached an encamping ground called Kuru, at the termination of
the Nubra district, where the mountains, which for three days had gradually
been encroaching on the valley, completely closed in, and the river entered
a deep gorge, walled in on both sides by lofty and almost perpendicular
cliffs of black slate.
The general aspect of the lower part of Nubra requires
LOWER NUBRA. no particular description, as it presents much the same
October, 1847.
features as the other parts of the district. The mountains
on both sides of the valley are not less steep, barren,
FOSSIL SHELLS IN
THE CLAY. and inaccessible than elsewhere in Tibet. The alluvial
October, 1847. platforms, which were everywhere present, increased
remarkably in thickness as they diminished in size.
Widely spread out in the broadest parts of the valley, they were not more
than from twenty to forty feet thick where cut across by the river, and
sloped very gently. In the narrower parts of the valley they were often not
less than a hundred feet high along the river. In structure these platforms
varied much. The greater part certainly consisted of gravel and clay, quite
unstratified, but the lower beds were very frequently fine clay, or fine sand,
or alternations of these two. The superposition of the coarse beds to the fine
was nearly uniformly observed, though occasionally, above the fine clays,
alternations of gravel with thin beds of sand or clay were met with. In one
place, on the north side of the river, nearly opposite to the village of Tertse,

I found these beds to contain fresh-water shells. The fossiliferous bed was
elevated very little above the present level of the river, and was composed
of a fine somewhat sandy clay, stratified horizontally, and covered with
upwards of fifty feet of coarse conglomerate. The shells, which were all
small, were species of Planorbis and Lymnæa, apparently identical with
those afterwards found in the neighbourhood of Iskardo, but quite different
from those of the salt lake of Thogji.
The villages of Lower Nubra are not numerous, but some of them possess
very extensive cultivation. Hundar in particular, at the mouth of a large
ravine, by which a considerable tributary stream descends from the south
(at the source of which there is a pass across the range into the valley of the
Indus), is a very large village (probably the most populous in Nubra), with
very fine orchards of apricot-trees. Walnut, mulberry, and Elæagnus became
common at Unmaru, on the north bank of the river. Perhaps the gradual
narrowing of the valley may have a considerable effect in modifying the
climate, for the diminution of elevation is very inconsiderable, the river at
Kuru being nearly 10,300 feet above the sea, or not more than 300 feet
lower than the junction of the Shayuk and Nubra rivers.
In this part of its course, and at this advanced season, when the great
summer floods are over, the Shayuk appears to be everywhere fordable. It
is, however, a noble stream, with a rapid current; and is usually divided into
many channels. Above Hundar, where I forded it, one branch was not less
than 300 feet wide, and was from one to two feet deep. Opposite Tertse,
again, I found the stream running in seven branches, of which three were
from 100 to 150 feet wide, and had an average depth of about two feet,
increased in the centre to about three. The other branches were, however,
much smaller.
In several places between Hundar and Tertse, on the
GREAT FLOOD OF gravelly plain which skirted the river, I observed
THE SHAYUK.
October, 1847. manifest traces of a flood, consisting of such
rejectamenta as are usually seen deposited by swollen
streams, fragments of wood and twigs, straw, sheep's dung, and other light
materials, forming a bed two or three feet wide, continuous in many places
for hundreds of yards, at a distance of not less than half a mile from the
river. To my inquiries as to the nature of the flood which had deposited

these reliquiæ, the invariable reply was, that a great flood had taken place
five years before, by the bursting of a lake called Khundan Chu, at which
time the whole course of the river was devastated, and much destruction of
property, sometimes even life, ensued, particularly in the narrower parts of
the valley. In most parts of the world the preservation of such insignificant
vestiges of a flood for so long a period would have been impossible; but
here, where rain is almost unknown, and where the winter falls of snow
seldom exceed one or two inches, there are no disturbing causes which
could prevent them from remaining till carried away or altered in position
by another similar flood. I should, therefore, have had no difficulty in
attaching credence to the testimony of the inhabitants of the country, even
had I not, in my journey down the river, received the most abundant proofs
that the flood was everywhere well known, at least as far as Iskardo.
The vegetation of Lower Nubra had so entirely disappeared, that I could
form scarcely any idea of its character; but, as the general aspect of the
country was unaltered, I had no reason to look for any change. In the
gravelly bed of the river, bushes of Myricaria and Tamarix were common;
thickets of Hippophaë, loaded with very acid yellow berries, lined the
watercourses, forming an impenetrable barrier. Little bushes of Artemisia,
Lycium, Perowskia, and Ephedra, were also occasionally seen on the rocks,
but the herbaceous vegetation had quite withered away. In the villages, the
cultivated trees were also rapidly shedding their leaves; constant night
frosts, and frequent falls of snow on the mountain-sides, having so far
reduced the temperature that winter was evidently at hand.
Below the village of Unmaru, the width of the valley
NARROW GORGE. had so much diminished that many of the lateral spurs
October, 1847.
advanced close to the river. Several of these prominent
spurs consisted of trap rocks, various forms of basalt and greenstone
occurring, with not unfrequently veins of coarse serpentine. Stratified rocks,
however, still continued, but the hard black slate was often with difficulty
distinguishable from the basalt.
My encamping ground at Kuru was on the north side of the river, and close
to the gorge into which the Shayuk disappeared among rocks of black slate,
which rise almost perpendicularly from the river. A small tributary,
descending from the north, ran parallel and close to the rugged mountain

spur which formed the barrier of the valley; and immediately above, a deep
bay or recess in the mountains was entirely filled with beds of loose sand,
resting on the alluvial clay formation. The appearance of the place was
altogether most singular. Much of the light sandy beds were evidently of
very recent origin, probably referable to the great flood five years before, at
which time the waters, suddenly checked at the gorge, after having spread
out ad libitum in the open valley of Nubra, rose to a height of not less than
fifty feet above their usual level, and required several days to subside. The
beds of clay under the loose sand were all stratified, and were, no doubt,
referable to the same lacustrine formation as the fossiliferous beds observed
higher up the valley of the Shayuk.
From Kuru there is no road along the bank of the river,
WARIS RAVINE. the rocks being on both sides too precipitous to permit
October, 1847.
of a passage, and the river too deep to be forded. In
winter, when the river is frozen, travellers are able to continue their course
along its bed by proceeding on the ice in those places where the steepness
of the rocks obstructs the passage; but at other seasons it is necessary to
make a long détour, and to ascend a lateral ravine for eight miles before a
point is reached where the steep ridge is capable of being crossed. Leaving
Kuru on the morning of the 26th of October, I encamped at the village of
Waris, elevated 12,400 feet, among a few fields from which the crops had
long been cleared. The few huts which formed the village contained no
inhabitants, being abandoned, as soon as the harvest has been reaped and
housed, for the more temperate climate of the river valley.
The ravine by which I ascended from Kuru was very narrow and rugged.
The road generally lay at a considerable height on the steep slopes of the
hills, but three times crossed the stream; once by a natural bridge composed
of a huge mass of rock lying across a very narrow part of the stream, where
it had worn out in the solid rock a channel not more than from three to
twelve feet wide. The steep sloping banks of the ravine were usually
shingly and devoid of vegetation; but on the margin of the little stream there
were a good many shrubs, principally willows, and occasionally the
cordate-leaved poplar so commonly cultivated in the Tibetan villages,
which here appeared quite indigenous.

The geological structure of this rocky ravine was very intricate, from the
great mass of igneous rock, granite, greenstone, and amygdaloid, which
everywhere occurred. A very hard conglomerate, similar in character to that
of the upper Indus and of the Giah ravine, was also observed at intervals,
alternating with very highly metamorphic slates. After about five miles, the
road left the main ravine to ascend into a lateral branch, much more steep
than the former. Here masses of alluvial conglomerate of great thickness
rested on the sides of the mountains, many hundred feet above the bed of
the stream. During the day the weather had been very cloudy and
threatening, and a little snow fell in the afternoon at my encamping ground
at Waris.
During the night more snow fell, and on the morning of
PASS ABOVE the 27th it was four or five inches deep. From my camp
WARIS.
October, 1847. I ascended at once, very steeply, to the crest of the ridge
on the left, which I then followed in a succession of
undulations in a westerly direction. As soon as I had gained the summit, a
reach of the Shayuk was seen, distant perhaps a mile and a half, flowing
among steep black rocks, with here and there banks of gravel at the bends.
The view from the ridge was very striking, the dark colour of the rocks
below contrasting strongly with the snowy whiteness of the upper parts of
the mountains, which, on the south side of the Shayuk, rise very abruptly to
a height of perhaps 18,000 feet.
The summit of the ridge was not less than 14,700 feet above the sea. At this
elevation, the snow, on southern exposures, had, by eleven A.M., quite
melted, under the influence of a bright sun. Along the ridge, tufts of a
prickly Statice, still displaying the remains of flowers, were very common,
and a few stunted trees of juniper occurred at intervals. The descent from
the ridge was exceedingly abrupt (three thousand feet in less than a mile),
into a narrow valley, in which I encamped among the fields of a summer
village named Boghdan, now, like the one I had left in the morning,
deserted by its inhabitants, who had gone for the winter to the village of
Chulungka, nine miles distant, on the banks of the Shayuk. I was now in the
district of Chorbat, the ridge which I had just crossed being the boundary of
Nubra on the west.

The Boghdan ravine, though very narrow and tortuous,
BOGHDAN is well wooded with small trees of poplar and willow,
RAVINE.
October, 1847. and with shrubs, chiefly of Hippophaë and Myricaria.
These plants are entirely confined to the level bottom of
the ravine, forming a belt, ten or twenty feet wide, on each side of the little
stream. After a descent of three miles, I again joined the Shayuk, along
which a journey of four days brought me to Siksa, the principal village of
Chorbat, encamping on the way at the villages of Chulungka, Turtuk, and
Pranu.
The district of Chorbat is a dependency of the
DISTRICT OF government of Iskardo, which, like that of Le, is subject
CHORBAT.
October, 1847. to Kashmir. The desert country by which Nubra and
Chorbat are separated has, for the present, acted as a
barrier to the further extension eastward of the Mahommedan religion,
which is now universally that of the people of the whole of the Iskardo (or
Balti) district, as well as of Dras. On the Indus, and in the valleys south of
it, there is no uninhabited tract between the two, so that the Mahommedan
and Buddhist population are in direct contact. The result is, that
Mahommedanism is in that part gradually, though very slowly, extending to
the eastward.
In this part of its course the Shayuk river is in general very rapid, and is
hemmed in so closely by the mountains on both sides, that little space is left
for the accumulation of alluvium, except where considerable lateral streams
join the main river. The barrier by which Chorbat is separated from Nubra is
the most contracted part of the valley, and the general ruggedness by
degrees becomes less marked as we continue to descend the river. The
mountains, everywhere steep, rocky, and inaccessible, close in general to
within a quarter of a mile of one another, and their projecting spurs, at short
intervals, advance quite to the centre of the valley, forming deep bays,
either filled with sand or occasionally occupied by platforms of
conglomerate, on the top of which, where water is procurable, there is
generally a village. The river, winding from one side of its channel to the
other, washes the foot of each rocky spur, so that the road frequently quits
the level of the river to ascend abruptly the rocky hills, which are often so
steep as to be only accessible by means of scaffoldings of wood, propped up
against the face of the perpendicular cliffs by trunks of trees. Once or twice

the road lay at a great height above the river for several miles, without
descending at all to its level.
The channel of the Shayuk is generally formed of
BRIDGES. coarse gravel or large rolled stones, and immense
October, 1847.
boulders are everywhere scattered on the level banks.
The stream is rapid and deep, and the fall much more considerable than in
Nubra, Siksa being only about 9000 feet above the sea. It is nowhere in the
whole distance fordable; and as the villages lie alternately on opposite sides
of the river, I had occasion to cross it three times before reaching Siksa. In
every case a narrow and rapid part of the river is selected, the bridges being
composed of poplar trunks, stretching from bank to bank, with a light and
rude hand-rail of hurdles to give support. Opposite Turtuk, the bridge,
which rests upon piers projecting on each side eight feet into the river,
measures twenty-five paces, so that the river is not more than eighty feet
wide.
Where platforms of alluvium occupy the lateral ravines, they attain a very
great thickness, seldom less than two hundred feet, and occasionally at least
twice as much. They are generally cut off in steep cliffs by the river,
beautifully showing the structure of the alluvium. In the sections of these
masses of boulders and clay, I several times observed that the strata, instead
of being horizontal, were highest in the middle and sloped gently
downwards on either side. This would indicate, I think, a local origin of
these deposits, which probably commenced under water, close to a ravine
on the mountain-side, and gradually extended, by the addition of successive
layers, till they met similar accumulations, derived from the opposite side of
the valley.
In the upper part of the district of Chorbat, the villages
VILLAGES. are few and very insignificant, but lower down several
October, 1847.
are of great extent. Chulungka, the highest village,
consists of three or four houses, on a small platform about fifty feet above
the river. This village stood formerly on the low ground close to the
Shayuk, but the cultivable soil at the lower level was entirely swept away
by the flood of 1842, so that the inhabitants were obliged to change the
position of their houses. The first considerable village is Turtuk, on the
south side of the river. Pranu, on the north side, is remarkable for the great

extent of its cultivation, and for several isolated rocks, behind which the
alluvium has accumulated to a thickness of at least six or seven hundred
feet.
All the villages are surrounded by fine orchards of apricot-trees. Walnut and
mulberry trees are also common; and at Turtuk I saw a few vines; these
latter are, however, by no means generally cultivated in the district. Willows
are less frequent than in Nubra, but there are plenty of poplars. The black
poplar is the common species, but a white downy-leaved species (P. alba),
which is cultivated also in Kunawar, and which seems to be indigenous in
some of the Himalayan valleys south of Kashmir, occurs for the first time at
Turtuk. The fields are everywhere terraced, and water seems to be very
abundant.
A very remarkable outburst of granite commences at
ROCKS OF the junction of the Boghdan ravine with the Shayuk,
CHORBAT.
October, 1847. and continues as far as Siksa, altering the secondary
rocks so that they can scarcely be recognized. The
granite is frequently in great mass, and usually occupies the lowest part of
the valley, sending out gigantic veins or branches into the overlying slates,
which are often transformed into a coarse serpentine. The hard
conglomerate which is associated with the slate, seems the same as occurs
in Lower Nubra, so that probably the slates are also a continuation of the
same series, and the whole may even be connected with the conglomerates
and slates of the Giah valley and of the Indus below Le, the strike of which
to the N.W. or N.N.W. would carry them nearly in the direction of Chorbat.
Here the intrusion of the granite renders both dip and strike obscure, the
beds being frequently quite vertical.
From Siksa, close to which there is a small fort or castle
PLAIN OF on an isolated rock, a road leads across the Hanu pass
KHAPALU.
October, 1847. into the valley of the Indus. By this route Mr. Vigne
proceeded when he abandoned his intention of
penetrating by the Shayuk to Nubra, and it has since been crossed by
several travellers at different times. It is, indeed, a route very commonly
adopted in travelling from Iskardo to Le, as the lower part of the Shayuk is
more open and practicable than the Indus below the junction of the river of
Dras.

Below Siksa, the valley of the Shayuk continues narrow for eight or ten
miles. It then begins again to expand, and its width continues to increase as
far as Khapalu, which is situated near the centre of a wide plain similar to
that of Nubra, and, like that, coincident with the junction of a large river
from the north. It is certainly worthy of note, that it is always at the point of
junction of large tributaries that the valley of the Shayuk is widest, and that
the evidences of the former existence of lakes are most evident, while in the
intermediate parts of its course the valley is narrow and rugged, and shows
no certain indications of having been at any period lacustrine.
The great axis of the plain of Khapalu is from south-
MACHULU RIVER. east to north-west, in the direction of the river Machulu,
November, 1847.
which runs through a very open and wide gravelly
plain, apparently for a considerable distance. This stream, which is probably
at least as large as the Nubra river, has its source in heavily-snowed
mountains to the north. The general surface of the plain is gravelly, and its
appearance on the whole is so similar to that of Nubra that no detailed
description is necessary. The river divides in the open gravelly plain into
numerous branches, which separate to a considerable distance from one
another, and ramify very irregularly. There is not much alluvial
accumulation in this plain, except in the immediate vicinity of Khapalu,
where a very curious isolated rock of black slate rises abruptly in the middle
of the plain, its base being washed by one branch of the Shayuk, now (after
its junction with the Machulu) too deep to be forded. Behind this rock there
is an accumulation of alluvium, forming a steep ridge six or seven hundred
feet in height; which it is necessary to cross in travelling from Surmu to
Khapalu, as the abruptness with which the clay-slate rock rises out of the
water, completely prevents a passage along the margin of the river.
On the 2nd of November I forded the Shayuk a little below the village of
Abadan, where it runs in two branches, each about a hundred yards wide,
and with an average depth of about two feet. A little further down it is
joined by the Machulu, and it does not appear to be anywhere fordable in its
further course, even in winter, so that probably the influx of water brought
by that stream is very considerable. I did not, however, see the junction,
which is situated on the north side of the plain, quite out of the direct road
towards the town of Khapalu.

Where the valley is widest, the mountain ranges on both sides of the river
are well seen. The range south of the Shayuk rises close at hand into a very
steep mountain mass, now much snowed. A pass which leads from Khapalu
to Kartash was (I was informed) already shut up by snow, and impracticable
for travellers. To the north, up the wide valley of the Machulu, the
mountains are more distant, and the main chain of the Muztagh is evidently
fully in sight; the absence of hills close at hand allowing a considerable
extent of it to be seen; it was very heavily snowed. The nearest, and
apparently loftiest peak, bore N. 13 W. (Magn.) from Surmu.
The principal villages of this open tract are Surmu and
KHAPALU. Khapalu, both on the south side of the Shayuk, and
November, 1847.
separated from one another by a high alluvial ridge,
which rests on a bold scarped rock rising immediately out of the river.
Surmu has a very long and narrow tract of cultivation, skirting the gravelly
river-bed. It occupies the slopes of a projecting platform of alluvium of no
great height. In this village many fields, on a level with the river, have
evidently been destroyed by the flood of 1842, as fruit-trees were still
standing among the gravel and shingle of the river-beds. Khapalu, on the
other hand, which is situated at the point of junction of a considerable
stream, occupies the surface of a thick bed of alluvium of great extent,
sloping very steeply from the apex of the triangle in a recess among the
mountains to its base, which is formed by the Shayuk. The fort of Khapalu
is perched at a great height on a remarkable projecting scarped rock, just at
the mouth of the ravine behind the village. The cultivation has a width of
not less than two miles, and, as it abounds in fruit-trees, it must in summer,
when the fields are green and the trees are in leaf, be a place (for Tibet) of
considerable beauty. From the abruptness of the slope of the alluvial
platform, the terrace-walls of the fields are very high, often as much as six
feet. The fruit-trees are the same as those commonly cultivated in Nubra
and Chorbat; the elm and Elæagnus of Nubra are also common, as well as
the white poplar. At Khapalu there are also a few plane-trees, which do not
extend further east.
The Lycium of Nubra, which had entirely disappeared in the narrow and
rocky parts of the Shayuk, reappeared as soon as the valley spread out into a
gravelly plain, being common at Abadan, and abundant at Surmu and
Khapalu. A species of berberry, a genus wanting in the higher parts of the

Shayuk (except in the mountains, where a small alpine species is
occasionally seen), was found in Surmu. The species was apparently
identical with the common berberry of Europe, which extends even into the
drier valleys of the Himalaya. I also recognized a few other new plants—a
small, almost herbaceous Sophora was one of these, and, still more
remarkable, Peganum Harmala, a species which extends from the
Mediterranean flora as far east as the Punjab, and which indicates a very
considerable amount of summer heat.
The shrubby Hippophaë is still very plentiful, but, either from more careful
cultivation, or because the nature of the slopes prevents the formation of
swampy margins to the little irrigation streams, it does not spread to so
great an extent over the cultivated tracts, which, therefore, in the winter
season look considerably more bare than those around the villages of
Nubra.
The height of the bed of the Shayuk at Khapalu may be roughly estimated
at about 8000 feet, as the determination of the boiling-point of water at my
tent, which was high up in the village, gave an elevation of 8300 feet. I
arrived at Khapalu from Surmu on the 3rd of November, and remained there
during the 4th. The weather, which for some days had been very unsettled
and disagreeable, suddenly cleared up on the 2nd of November, and
continued for nearly a week very fine, the days being uniformly bright and
sunny, with a gentle wind blowing up the valley of the Shayuk. The
temperature in the sun was extremely agreeable, though the shade
maximum was never much higher than 50°. The nights were clear and cold,
the thermometer falling at Khapalu more than 14° below the freezing-point.
A little below Khapalu I found a number of people washing the sand of the
Indus for gold; but the produce seemed to be very trifling, and the work is
only carried on during winter, when labour is of no value for other
purposes. I purchased for a rupee (paying, I believe, a good deal more than
the value) the produce in gold-dust of one man's labour for three weeks. I
suppose, however, he only worked occasionally.
Below Khapalu the valley of the Shayuk again begins
BRAGHAR. to contract, but the open plain may be considered to
November, 1847.
extend for some way below the village of Braghar,

where a large tributary joins from the north, and to which place there is a
great deal of cultivation, especially on the right bank. Immediately below
Braghar, there is a remarkable saline grassy plain, very swampy, and
traversed by numerous small streamlets, in which a Chara and a linear-
leaved Potamogeton were abundant. Below this plain the mountain spurs
close in upon the river, contracting its channel very much, and frequently
preventing all passage along the bank. The narrow portion of the river
extends within a few miles of Iskardo, or for at least thirty miles of river
distance. Throughout this tract the valley is very similar to that between
Nubra and Chorbat. Villages are numerous, occupying very elevated
platforms, on which there is frequently luxuriant cultivation. In many of the
narrowest and most rugged places there is no passage along the river, and
the road crosses spurs of considerable elevation.
Between Kunes and Kuru the narrowness of the river is probably at its
maximum, as the road lies altogether along a ridge, elevated perhaps a
thousand feet, to which the ascents and descents are extremely abrupt.
Many parts of this ridge are capped with alluvium, which occurs in many
places along this part of the course of the Shayuk in very great quantity. The
largest village on this part of the river is Kiris, situated just above the
junction of the Shayuk and Indus, on a nearly level alluvial platform of
large size. Round Kiris there is a very extensive deposit of lacustrine clay,
very fine, and horizontally stratified. Good sections of this, sometimes at
least fifty feet in thickness, are exposed east of Kiris, not far from the
Shayuk. I did not observe any fossils; but in so cursory an inspection as I
was able to make, it is very probable that I may have overlooked them.
The junction of the Shayuk and Indus rivers takes place
JUNCTION OF a little way below Kiris. The Shayuk is considerably
SHAYUK WITH
INDUS. wider and more rapid than the Indus, but much less
November, 1847. deep, so that neither river so decidedly preponderates
over the other as to enable their relative size to be
determined at a glance. Probably the discharge of the two will be found
nearly equal. The direction of the united streams is the same as that of the
Shayuk, which the Indus joins nearly at a right angle.
The granitic and slate rocks of the district of Chorbat are continued
unaltered as far as the junction of the Indus and Shayuk. In many places the

granite so predominates as to form almost the whole mass of the mountains,
but more generally there is also a good deal of slate. The schists are of very
various appearance; a very hard black slate is the most common, but in
contact with and near the granite many portions of the slaty mass are quite
undistinguishable from gneiss. The direction and inclination of the dip vary
extremely. In general the granitic veins appear to be parallel to the strata of
schist, but instances are not unfrequent where vertical strata of schist are cut
through by horizontal veins of granite.
On the 9th of November I encamped at Kiris, and next
NAR. day I passed the junction of the Indus and Shayuk. The
November, 1847.
direction of the united streams soon becomes nearly
due north, and it flows for many miles through a very narrow ravine, along
which the road is of a most difficult nature, partly high on the mountains,
partly on platforms of alluvium, and occasionally over angular blocks of
rock, which are piled in enormous heaps along the banks of the river. At the
most northerly point of the river, where the ravine is narrowest, I passed
through the cultivated lands of the village of Nar, which extend for more
than two miles on the surface of an alluvial platform many hundred feet
above the bottom of the valley. Leaving this village, I continued to ascend,
and entirely lost sight of the Indus, which flowed to the south-west, while
the road kept winding among rocky hills, gradually ascending to the crest of
a low pass, among rocks of black slate, which entirely prevented me from
seeing the nature of the surrounding country. From the summit of the ascent
I descended gradually down a narrow valley, and emerging at last rather
suddenly on an open plain, I found myself in sight of the valley of Iskardo,
which presented to the eye an expanse of level ground much greater than I
had seen since leaving Khapalu, to which and to Nubra the district round
Iskardo bears a very close resemblance.
When the road entered the open country, at the north-east corner of the plain
of Iskardo, it lay for miles over loose sand, utterly barren, forming low
undulating hills, which rested upon a deposit of pure white clay. Three
miles from Iskardo, a spur from the northern mountains advances close to
the river, and the road skirting the latter is for a short distance rocky and
uneven. Soon, however, it again enters a tract of bare sand, which extends
as far as the ferry immediately above the town of Iskardo. The river, being
here unfordable, is crossed by means of a flat-bottomed boat.

The plain of Iskardo, which surrounds the junction of
ISKARDO. the Shigar river with the Indus, is nearly twenty miles
November, 1847.
in length, and has an average breadth of about five
miles. It is elevated about 7200 feet above the level of the sea. In its very
centre, on the south bank of the Indus, and opposite to the junction of the
Shigar river, an isolated rock of black slate rises to the height of nearly a
thousand feet, directly overhanging the Indus, parallel to which it stretches
for nearly a mile. It is faced on all sides by perpendicular cliffs, inaccessible
except at the west end, where a steep and difficult path leads to the summit,
which is a long narrow ridge.
The name Iskardo is a Mahommedan corruption of a Tibetan name Skardo,
or Kardo, as it is very commonly pronounced; but as the first-mentioned
name is most familiar to foreigners, and is likely to become universal, as
well from the inhabitants of the district being all Mahommedans, as from
the country being now subject to Kashmir, it is better, I think, to retain it,
than to attempt to substitute the more pure Tibetan pronunciation.

Pl. II.
J. W. del. W. L. Walton, Lithog. Printed by Hullmandel & Walton.

ISKARDO
From South-east of the Valley.

The mountains which surround the Iskardo plain rise at once with great
abruptness, and are very steep and bare. Those on the south side, derived
from the range which separates the Indus from the table-land of Deotsu, the
axis of which is not more than ten or fifteen miles distant, rise very abruptly
in rocky pinnacles, covered, at the time I reached the valley, with much
snow. Two spurs from this range run forward to the Indus, one five miles
east of Iskardo, the other about three miles to the west of it, dividing the
whole south side of the valley into three deep bays, each watered by a
considerable stream, whose source is in the southern mountains. The
mountains on the north side, the terminal spurs of two great branches of the
Kuenlun or Muztagh, which flank the Shigar river, are considerably lower,
but equally barren and desolate.
The river Indus traverses the open valley in an extremely winding course.
At one time it washes the base of the cliffs which terminate the projecting
mountain spurs; at another it flows between high banks of alluvial
conglomerate or of fine clay. Not unfrequently these clayey cliffs recede to
a considerable distance from the river, in which case the intervening space
is generally sandy. A small branch of the stream, at times little more than a
chain of pools, often runs close to the cliffs, indicating a former channel of
the river; and when this is the case, the low ground between the two
channels is often swampy and grassy.
The bed of the Indus in this part of its course is very little inclined, the
stream flowing in general very gently over a sandy bed, its surface quite
smooth and tranquil, occasionally only a little rippled in turning round a
projecting rocky spur, where its bottom is gravelly and the inclination
perhaps a little greater. Opposite Iskardo the Indus is even in the depth of
winter a noble stream, often more than 500 feet wide, and nine or ten feet
deep in the centre.
Iskardo occupies a nearly level plain of fine alluvial clay elevated fifty or
sixty feet above the river, and extending from the isolated rock which
overhangs the Indus towards the mountains on the south side of the valley.
To the right and left of the rocky hill, two small streams have excavated for
themselves out of the soft clay deep and wide ravines, which are covered
with coarse gravel, and are faced by more or less steep banks of clay or
sand. The surface of the platform on which all the cultivated ground lies is

watered by means of artificial canals, brought from a distance of nearly two
miles, from the point where the streams issue from among the hills.
The neighbourhood of the rock of Iskardo was doubtless selected as the site
of the principal town of the kingdom of Balti, from the advantages which it
afforded as a place of defence; and in the days of the independence of the
country a fortified palace occupied its eastern extremity, while the western
and more accessible end was apparently protected by a series of rude works.
The principal buildings of the palace seem to have been at the very base of
the rock. A mass of ruins, showing large blocks of well-hewn stone,
fragments of marble fountains, and some solid walls supporting terraces,
which appear at one time to have been gardens, alone remain to show the
former magnificence of the place. A mausoleum, raised to the memory of
the last independent king, Ahmed Shah, perched on a rock perhaps 300 feet
above the plain, is still untouched and uninjured.
An aqueduct or canal extends in a direct line from the palace towards the
mountains, a distance of at least a mile. It is an exceedingly massive work,
consisting of two walls raised perhaps fifteen feet above the level of the
plain, and built of very large blocks of hewn stone. The intervening space is
filled with earth. At present, a small conduit, a foot or so wide, brings all the
water which is required for the use of the inhabitants of Iskardo; but a very
large quantity might be conveyed along the aqueduct, and the work is so
strong and substantial that very little repair would be requisite to restore it
to its original condition.
The fortified post of the present rulers of the country is built on the margin
of the platform of alluvium, on the right bank of the little stream which
joins the Indus to the east of the rock of Iskardo, and is separated by a
hollow from the palace and the principal part of the village. It is built of
unburnt brick, and is extremely irregular in shape, with rounded bastions at
the angles.
The houses of Iskardo are very much scattered over a large extent of
surface, so that there is no appearance of a town; nor is the population in the
immediate neighbourhood of the rock so extensive as that of some of the
more remote villages in the valley, and especially of those on the banks of
the Shigar river, which are very richly cultivated. Many of the Iskardo

houses, however, are very good, being often of two stories, and built of
unburnt bricks in a framework of wood. Latticed windows, covered with
paper or small plates of mica, are also common. The roofs are all flat, and
covered with mud beaten hard.
The lacustrine clay formation occurs in great quantity
LACUSTRINE throughout the valley of Iskardo, and is nowhere seen
CLAY.
November, 1847. in greater perfection than in the immediate
neighbourhood of the town, where the cliffs facing the
Indus, and those along the little lateral streams which descend from the
south, exhibit an abundance of sections of these beds. The height of the
cliffs is very variable; but it is seldom less than thirty feet, and to the east of
the town is as much as a hundred feet. The clay formation varies much in
appearance, being most commonly a very fine unctuous cream-coloured
clay, stratified quite horizontally, but occasionally gritty and mixed with
numerous particles of mica. Now and then thin beds of sand and of small
waterworn pebbles alternate with the finer clays. In many places near the
rock of Iskardo, the beds are very irregular, undulating a good deal, and at
times exhibiting very remarkable flexures, as if the isolated rocky mass
(which must have once been under water) had formed eddies in the lake,
and prevented that regularity of deposition which is elsewhere so universal.
Fossils are very rare in these clays, but occurred in several different
localities. Close to Iskardo I once found a very few small specimens of a
Lymnæa and Planorbis, but after repeatedly searching carefully did not
succeed in obtaining any more. I was more fortunate in two places east of
Iskardo, where fresh-water shells are sufficiently common in one or two
thin seams of very fine clay, mixed with a good deal of apparently
vegetable matter. The great mass of the clay is, however, quite non-
fossiliferous.
The surface of the clay formation round Iskardo is very undulating, and is
often covered with masses of large boulders. Opposite two of the ravines
which penetrate the mountains on the southern side of the valley, two very
remarkable banks of boulders project forward into the valley. They consist
of very large fragments of rock, angular or more or less rounded, piled on
one another to a height of forty or fifty feet. They terminate abruptly, and
are, I think, evidently moraines.

On the very top of the isolated rock, in the middle of the Iskardo plain,
horizontal beds of coarse sandstone rest upon the hard clay-slate of which
the rock is composed. This sandstone crumbles with great ease in the hand,
the particles of which it is composed being very slightly coherent. These
beds, in which I could find no traces of shells or of vegetable remains, are
elevated at least 800 or 1000 feet above the level of the Indus. The
sandstone seems to cap the whole hill, but is exposed only in a few places,
being in a great measure covered by the loose drift or alluvium which has
been deposited above it.
The vegetation of Iskardo had so entirely disappeared,
VEGETATION. that I was able to form very little idea of its nature. A
November, 1847.
few shrubby species, and some withered fragments of
autumn flowering plants, alone remained. On the whole, I was struck with
the similarity of the few plants which I recognized with those of Nubra and
Le. Artemisiæ and Chenopodiaceæ were still abundant. Hippophaë was the
universal shrub along all the streamlets, and Lycium was common in sandy
places; a berberry (the same already seen at Khapalu) was also frequent.
The few novelties were Kashmir plants. Lycopsis arvensis, Prunella
vulgaris, a thistle, a species of Sium, some gentians, and Ranunculus
aquatilis, were the most Indian forms which I met with. From the
mountains I procured specimens of a juniper (J. excelsa), and of the alpine
birch of the Himalaya, which skirts the southern borders of the Tibetan
region, without extending into the driest parts of that country.

CHAPTER VIII.
Leave Iskardo in the direction of Kashmir—First march through snow to Turgu—Lacustrine clay—it
extends into narrow valleys beyond Nar—Gol—Junction of Indus and Shayuk—Parkuta—Tolti—
Kartash—Extensive lacustrine deposits—Tarkata—Road turns up the Dras river—Ulding Thung—
Fall of snow—Hardas—Karbu—Continued snow—Dras—Find pass in front shut by deep snow—
Obliged to return to Iskardo—Rafts and rope-bridges on Indus—Elæagnus and Apricot apparently
wild—Winter at Iskardo.

On the 2nd of December I left Iskardo, in the direction
UPPER PART OF of Kashmir, by way of Dras, all other routes being shut
ISKARDO PLAIN.
December, 1847. with snow. My first march was to Turgu, seven miles.
The ground was all the way covered with snow which
had fallen during the night, but it thawed a good deal during the day,
making the journey rather unpleasant. The road lay along the south bank of
the river, at first over the level platform of lacustrine clay, among large
boulders, which were scattered over its surface, but soon descending by a
narrow and steep footpath, on the face of the clayey cliff, to the level of the
river, to cross a deep bay, from which the clay formation has been entirely
removed, to a large village three miles from Iskardo, through the cultivation
of which the road ascended gradually, and proceeded on the barren stony
slopes behind. About five miles from Iskardo, a spur, from the mountain
range on the south, which abuts in a scarped cliff upon the river, has been
taken advantage of by the inhabitants to build a small gateway, through
which the road is made to run. The extreme steepness of the mountain mass
which lies to the south and east, makes it scarcely possible to approach
Iskardo along the south bank of the river from these directions, without
passing through this gateway, and, therefore, a small party of soldiers is
kept on this rocky pass by the Sikh rulers of the country. A species of
Daphne was very common on the rocky hills about this pass, apparently an
evergreen, as it was in full leaf in the midst of the snow. From the higher
parts of the road, and from the rocky pass which overhangs the river, there
is an extensive view over the barren sandy waste on the north bank of the
river. The lacustrine clay is, at this end of the valley, very thick and but little
excavated, forming cliffs which rise close to the river, which has, as it were,
worn for itself a narrow channel in the clay formation. The banks or cliffs
are of very different heights, and many of them consist of alluvial gravel
and boulders, overlying and quite obscuring the clays. Behind Turgu, and in
many places on the last part of the march, there are great masses of angular
fragments of rock piled into a steeply sloping mass, as if they had fallen
from the mountains behind, but so mixed with smaller fragments and with
gravel, that it seems probable that they were accumulated under water.
The next day's march, from Turgu to Gol, round the
WATERWORN great bend of the Indus, was entirely barren. On the
ROCKS.
December, 1847. western side of the curve several rocky spurs were

crossed, but after the road turns to the south it runs generally on the surface
of very elevated platforms of coarse alluvial debris, covered in many places
with enormous boulders, partly derived, in all probability, from the fall of
masses of rock from the cliffs above, but in more than one place so
curiously arranged, at the apertures of lateral ravines, as to be, I think,
almost certainly of glacial origin. Many of the large boulders which
occurred in the alluvium were observed to be much waterworn, spherical
cavities being worn out in them. Similar waterworn rocks were also seen in
situ at great heights above the river, in places to which no water has at
present access, and where it is difficult to understand in what way the effect
was produced. Behind the alluvial platforms, which are generally one or
two hundred feet above the level of the river, the mountains rise
precipitously, in cliffs of granite, which has now replaced the slate rocks of
Iskardo.
At the point where the river changes its direction from
EXTENT OF north to south-west, the mountains on the southern bank
LACUSTRINE
CLAY. advance quite to the river, and on the north side also
December, 1847. they approach very near. It would therefore, at first
sight, appear that the lake, in which the clay formation
of Iskardo has been deposited, had here terminated to the eastward, no clay
being seen in the narrow ravine above Nar, or near the river anywhere
between Nar and Gol. I had at first no doubt that I had reached the eastern
extremity of the lake; but some time after passing the most northerly point
of the ravine I observed a patch of very fine cream-coloured clay, quite
similar to the finest portions of the Iskardo formation, clinging in a
remarkable position on the flank of a very steep rocky cliff, not less than
1000 or 1200 feet above the river. Several other patches came into sight
soon after, all high up on the mountain-sides; one above the village of
Golochu, and others at intervals all the way to the junction of the Indus and
Shayuk. I cannot, therefore, doubt that the lake in which the clay beds of
Kiris were deposited, was the same as that which occupied the Iskardo
basin; nor does it seem easy to fix its exact boundaries. The great height of
the patches of clay, in the narrow channel above Nar, show that the depth of
the lake had been very considerable; and if we assume a depth of 1500 feet,
which seems necessary, and at the same time admit the arrangement of the
ancient rocks to have been the same as at present, we must either suppose

some great barrier to have existed in the narrow passage below Khapalu, or
must admit that the Khapalu lake was also continuous with that of Iskardo. I
did not, however, observe any beds of fine clay higher up than Kuru, in the
narrow part of the ravine of the Shayuk, which would warrant the drawing
such a conclusion; although vast masses of alluvium certainly abound there,
piled at great heights above the river. Is it possible that these may at one
time have been continuous, and have blocked up the whole valley, and that
the portions now seen capping ridges, whose origin is otherwise
inexplicable, are the last remnants of a continuous mass which occupied the
whole interspace? and if so, to what are we to ascribe the deposition of such
an enormous mass of alluvium-like accumulation?
To the eastward of the village of Gol the valley of the
JUNCTION OF Indus again becomes a little wider, an open sandy plain
INDUS WITH
SHAYUK. extending round the junction of the two rivers. The
December, 1847. cultivation round Gol is on a high platform of alluvium;
but the road descends, soon after leaving the village,
nearly to the level of the river, and continues over the low ground, skirting
the mountains of the southern bank, till it reaches the junction of the two
rivers, where it turns abruptly to the south, ascending the left bank of the
Indus, which runs nearly due north in a narrow rocky ravine. A bluff
projecting ridge of granite, sixty or eighty feet high, polished on the surface
by aqueous action, and of a brilliantly brown-black colour, so that the
nature of the rock is only discoverable by breaking it, here advances close
to the river, and is crossed by a steep sinuous path, eked out by flights of
steps, with wooden supports, where it would otherwise be impracticable.
The Indus is here very narrow and deep, and runs with an extremely rapid
current. The path, after crossing this ridge, again descends to the level of the
river. Even in this narrow ravine I was surprised to find the fine cream-
coloured clay of the lacustrine formation, similar to many of the beds of the
same deposit round Iskardo. It was here quite on a level with the river.
The mountains rise on both sides of the Indus very
INDUS VALLEY. abruptly, being almost always precipitous. From the
December, 1847.
narrowness of the valley the great elevation of these is
not seen, and the lesser height of those on the right bank of the Indus, which
form the termination of the chain separating that river from the Shayuk, is
not brought prominently to notice. For more than two miles, the ravine

continues very narrow, and several steep spurs are crossed. It then becomes
gradually a little wider, narrow platforms of conglomerate skirting the
stream, and changes its direction from nearly due south to south-east. The
right bank is stony and unproductive the whole way, but on the left there is
one small village, three miles from the junction of the Shayuk, and thence
after three miles of desert, a succession of small villages continuing with
little intermission on the surface of alluvial platforms as far as Parkuta, at
which I encamped. In one of the villages a good many small juniper-trees
were seen.
The lacustrine clay formation, though not continuous throughout the whole
of this day's march, may be traced in patches, with so little interval that its
former continuity cannot be doubted. The spots in which I observed its
presence in the narrow ravine were all close to the river, the low level of the
road not permitting an extended view of the higher slopes of the mountains.
Further up, however, patches were in my subsequent April journey seen at
considerable elevations, but in December the slopes were covered with
snow to within a thousand feet of the river. In several places the clay
formed cliffs, which rose perpendicularly from the Indus, and could be seen
to be covered with modern alluvium deposited during floods, just as the
ancient rocks are in other places. The clay appeared everywhere extremely
fine, without any intermixture of sand or micaceous grains. I saw no
appearance of fossils, which I think never occur in the very fine cream-
coloured clays, but seem always to accompany more sandy, or at least gritty
varieties, as if the influx of a small stream, and probably the proximity of
land, were requisite to the existence of testaceous mollusks; while the
central part of the lake, in which the very finest clays were deposited, was
quite devoid of them.
Parkuta is a very large village, three or four hundred
PARKUTA. feet above the river, occupying both slopes of a deep
December, 1847.
ravine cut in the thick mass of alluvium by a large
stream from the south. The alluvium is scarped towards the Indus, and a
low granitic hill, the cause of its accumulation to such a height, just rises
above the general surface of the platform. This is covered with a mass of
buildings, formerly the residence of the Rajah of Parkuta, a branch of the
same family who ruled at Iskardo, and dependent on them while that state
remained independent; he has, however, been removed by the Sikhs, and his

house is at present untenanted. The village is large, with extensive
cultivation, and many fine fruit-trees. Vines are plentiful, climbing over the
poplars.
On the 5th of December my day's journey carried me to
TOLTI. Tolti, a distance of twelve miles. The valley continued
December, 1847.
narrow, and the mountains rose precipitously on both
sides. On the early part of the march there were many villages, and much
cultivation on the left bank. The village of Urdi, three or four miles from
Parkuta, seemed very populous, and extended for a great distance along the
river. It was remarkable for an aqueduct supported on pillars of stone,
which crossed a ravine immediately above the village. At this spot the
cultivation terminated abruptly, and the alluvial platform was for more than
a mile, during which space it gradually narrowed by the encroachments of
the cliffs, covered with an accumulation of very large granitic boulders,
which seemed to have fallen on it from the mountains behind.
As I approached Tolti the valley of the Indus became
KARTASH. much more rugged and narrow. A long gentle ascent to
December, 1847.
a ridge more than a thousand feet above the bottom of
the valley, but which dipped abruptly to the river, occupied the latter part of
the march. At Tolti the belt of cultivation is very narrow, just skirting the
river on very narrow platforms of alluvium, which are irrigated by artificial
canals carried with considerable labour between the fields and the
mountains. Tolti was the most gloomy village which I had yet seen, the
precipitous mountains forming a circle all round it, and almost shutting out
the light of day. The bird's-nest fort in the ravine behind the village, perched
on the top of a rock (in a most untenable position, though probably well
suited for defence against sudden attack), accorded well with the gloomy
aspect of the place. The temperature was here considerably lower than in
the more open valley, as large patches of snow lay still unmelted in the
fields, though four days had elapsed since its fall. At Gol, two days before,
it had quite melted. On a bank a mile or two below Tolti, I saw a few trees
of Populus Euphratica, just recognizable by a few withered leaves which
still remained on the tree.
From Tolti, I made three marches to Tarkata, a small village on the Indus,
six miles below its junction with the river of Dras. The general aspect of the

valley of the Indus was but little changed in this distance, notwithstanding a
very long and remarkable bend of the river above Kartash, in which its
direction is to the eastward of north. From Tolti, the easiest road in an
upward direction crosses the Indus, and proceeds on the right bank; but to
avoid the labour of crossing, I suppose, my guides conducted me by a road
on the left bank. On this side, the lower part of the valley is so steep as to be
impracticable; and I found it necessary to ascend at once from Tolti on a
stony ridge, almost directly away from the river. The ascent was long and
fatiguing; the ridge being capped, in the same manner as that above Kunes
on the Shayuk, with masses of alluvium. The ridge was more than 1500 feet
above the river, and its upper part was covered with snow, through which
the path lay for four or five miles, after which it descended very abruptly to
the river, which had been in sight almost all the way, generally running
among precipitous rocks, but with a few villages scattered at intervals on
the northern bank. After regaining the bank of the river, the road was for
five or six miles nearly level, passing opposite the village of Kartash, with a
fort on a hill. Here still resides the Rajah Ali Sher Khan, the most intelligent
of the princes of Balti; though now past the prime of life, he still retains the
intelligence and kind hospitality for which he is so deservedly praised by
Vigne.

Kartash being situated at the northern or lower end of
INDUS VALLEY. the great bend of the Indus, and in an extremely narrow
December, 1847.
part of the ravine, is a most sombre-looking place. It is
possible, however, that in summer, when the villages are green with
cultivation and fruit-trees, the appearance of this and other places may be
less gloomy, and that, from having only seen this part of Tibet in the depth
of winter, I may be disposed to regard it in too unfavourable a point of view.
The abrupt and precipitous rise of the mountains on all sides must
undoubtedly tend strongly to modify the summer temperature, which, from
the want of rain, and the reflection from masses of bare rock, would
otherwise be oppressive. The fort seems to have some good buildings, and
to be kept in excellent order, and the village looked extensive and
prosperous.
All along the narrow ravine, from Tolti nearly as far as Tarkata, deposits of
alluvium were very extensively developed, not only in the valley of the
river, but at considerable heights on the ridges. There was, however, I
believe, none of the lacustrine clay, as contradistinguished from the coarser
alluvium. I speak here with considerable hesitation, as I find with regret that
I have not in my notes attended with sufficient care to the distinction
between the two, not having at the time sufficiently adverted to their
probably different origin. I am now disposed to think that in the narrow
ravine above Tolti was situated the barrier which bounded on the east the
lake basin of Iskardo, a vast inland sea, which must have extended thence in
a north-westerly direction as far as Rondu. This barrier, if my supposition
be correct, must have consisted of a mass of coarse drift or alluvium,
entirely blocking up the narrow ravine to a height of three thousand feet or
more above the present level of the Indus.
The mountains all along this ravine are extremely elevated, the peaks above
Kartash (from which a pass leads to Khapalu on the Shayuk) being, I should
think, not less than 18,000 feet. The bareness and desolation of their sides
exceeded anything I had seen since leaving Iskardo, and quite equalled the
most rugged parts of Tibet which I had yet visited. They consisted of large
masses of rock, split and fractured in every direction, often very
precipitous, without a vestige of soil, and with scarcely the slightest traces
of vegetation. Immense tracts, both along the river and on the slopes of the

ravines descending from the mountains, were covered with boulders or with
angular fragments of rock, strewed irregularly on the surface, or piled in
masses one on another. Granite formed the great mass of the mountains,
mixed with stratified rocks, which were always highly metamorphic, but
extremely variable in appearance, sometimes, though rarely, having the
appearance of ordinary gneiss. A singular porphyritic rock appeared (as
boulders) along the river in one place only.
About two miles west of Tarkata, the Indus resumes its more usual
direction, and, at the same time, its valley becomes somewhat more open,
the mountains, without any diminution of elevation, receding considerably
from the river. Their lower slopes present a very different aspect from those
in other parts of the Indus, being composed not of primitive rock, but of a
soft and almost incoherent sandstone, alternating irregularly and without
any definite order with boulder conglomerate, and fine clay. These beds,
which are very extensively developed on both sides of the river, around the
village of Tarkata, for some distance in both directions, attain a thickness of
at least six or seven hundred feet. They are, however, very irregular,
forming a succession of ridges separated by deep ravines or gullies, on the
sides of which fine sections of the strata are generally exposed, showing
them to be uniformly horizontal, and to consist of a great many alternations
of sand, clay, and drift. Above Tarkata, very fine clays were abundant.
The sandstone, of which a greater part of these curious
SOFT SANDSTONE deposits consists, is formed principally of coarse grains
ROCKS.
December, 1847. of quartz, which only cohere very slightly, and easily
crumble under pressure. It is quite similar in appearance
to the sandstone which occurs on the summit of the rock of Iskardo,
differing only in being very much more extensively developed than that is,
and in being associated and alternating with the very fine clays resembling
those which occupy the lower levels of the valley of Iskardo. The
sandstones of Tarkata did not appear to be fossiliferous, nor did I, in the
slight examination I was able to give them, discover any shells in the fine
clays in this neighbourhood. The general similarity, however, of these
deposits to the lacustrine clays of the Iskardo valley, makes it nearly certain
that their origin is similar, while the association of the sandstones and the
fine clays in the neighbourhood of Tarkata, renders it probable that I am

right in assuming the arenaceous beds of the summit of the rock of Iskardo
to be lacustrine.
Ever since leaving Iskardo, the weather had been very
FLOATING ICE. unsettled, but no more snow had fallen. The sky had
December, 1847.
been pretty generally overcast with light clouds, and
during the day the wind had almost invariably blown down the river,
generally with great violence, and, especially in the narrowest parts of the
valley, in furious gusts, against which it was most laborious to make any
progress. The mornings had been always frosty, but the temperature rose in
the middle of the day several degrees above 32°. On the 8th of December, a
sudden increase of cold seemed to take place, the temperature not rising
above the freezing-point. Large cakes of ice, which appeared early on the
morning of that day, floating down the river, indicated an evident
commencement of very severe weather in the upper part of its course, and
the descent of such masses of ice, in cakes of from one to ten feet in
diameter, tended very much to lower the temperature of all parts of the river
to which they extended. The elevation of Tarkata I found to be 7800 feet
above the sea.
The road from Iskardo to Kashmir leaves the valley of the Indus at the
junction of the river of Dras, and follows the course of that river almost to
its source. The lower part of the valley of Dras is a deep and narrow rocky
ravine, bordered by precipices of granite, which are so steep that the bottom
of the valley is quite inaccessible. In passing from the Indus into the valley
of Dras, the road crosses the granitic spur which separates the two rivers, at
an elevation of about 2000 feet above the Indus, ascending to this height
very rapidly along a steep spur, which recedes almost in a perpendicular
direction from that river. From the shoulder of this ridge, which was
elevated probably about 10,000 feet, the course of the Indus was visible for
some distance above the junction of the river of Dras. It appeared to be
hemmed in very closely by rocky mountain spurs. A good many patches of
fine lacustrine clay were in sight, on both banks.
From the same ridge, the view up the Dras valley was
VALLEY OF DRAS. very remarkable. The river of that name, which formed
December, 1847.
many deep pools and was partially frozen, ran at the
bottom of a deep gorge. On the right bank opposite to where I stood, a sheer

precipice rose nearly to a level with my eye. Between the ridge on which I
stood and the next in succession up the Dras valley, an open and shallow
valley, everywhere strewed with enormous blocks of granite, sloped gently
till it approached the brink of the almost perpendicular cliffs which
overhang the Dras river. Crossing this open valley, and the low spur beyond
it, I encamped at a small village called Ulding Thung, situated at the point
of junction of the Dras river, with a considerable tributary descending from
the west.
This little village occupies the gentle slope of a hill-side, but I encamped at
the lowest part of it, which was a small level plain surrounded by a number
of giant boulders, resting on the upper edge of a very steep slope, and
evidently, I think, of glacial origin. They were quite angular, and not less
than from twenty to thirty feet in length.
On the slope of the hill above my encampment at Ulding, the lacustrine clay
formation again occurred in great quantity. It was a very fine impalpable
clay, without fossils, and was here (as is not uncommon elsewhere) dug out
by the inhabitants for the purpose of extracting its salt, which is obtained in
a state of brine by simply washing the clay with water. The elevation of this
clay formation was probably a good deal more than 8500 feet, but not
greater than that of many of the hills and patches of similar deposit around
Tarkata in the valley of the Indus.
At daybreak on the morning of the 18th of December I found that between
three and four inches of snow had fallen during the night. It had ceased
snowing at that time; and during the day, which was stormy and often very
cloudy, no more fell. There was a good deal of thaw during the day, and
towards evening the snow, except in sheltered spots, was nearly melted. My
day's journey was about ten miles, to the village of Hardas, on the left bank
of the Dras river; passing about two miles before the end of the march the
river of Kargyl or Pashkyum, a very large stream which descends from the
south-east. During the earlier part of this day, the road was extremely bad. It
descended from Ulding abruptly to the level of the Dras river, to cross at its
point of junction a large tributary whose source is in the eastern slopes of
Deotsu. A succession of steep ascents and descents followed for four or five
miles, throughout which distance the ravine through which the river ran was
narrow and precipitous and quite without villages. Further up, the valley

widened a little, the mountains rose less steeply, and left narrow strips of
level ground along the margin of the stream.
Very early on the morning of the 11th of December, it
SNOW STORM. began again to snow, and continued with little
December, 1847.
intermission throughout the day. I marched ten miles to
Karbu, crossing the river three miles above Hardas, and keeping on the
right bank during the remainder of the day. I could see that the valley was
wider than the day before, but the incessant snow made the appearance of
the country undistinguishable. The margins of the stream were occasionally
fringed with bushes of poplar and willow. Karbu is a village high up a steep
lateral valley, with scattered groves of juniper on the sides of the hills above
the cultivation. By evening the depth of snow was about fifteen inches.
On the 12th of December, after marching five miles through a heavy fall of
snow to the village of Tashgang, crossing the river by a wooden bridge
close to the village, a violent storm of wind and snow-drift, blowing
directly down the valley, compelled me to halt for the night. The snow-
storm continued till about eight P.M., when the weather cleared, and the
night was clear and starlight. Next morning, the weather continuing fine, I
was able to proceed to Dras. The depth of snow had increased to about two
feet; and the labour of progressing through this depth of untrodden snow
was much increased by the shortness of the steps of the porters, treading
exactly after one another, so as to form pits in the snow, not more than a
foot apart, and alternately on the right and left.
I reached the Sikh fort at Dras, which was distant
DRAS. eleven miles, about two o'clock; the road was pretty
December, 1847.
level and the valley open, with low hills on either hand.
The depth of snow increased as I advanced, and was three feet in the plain
round the fort. Here I was greeted by the most unwelcome tidings, that my
advance so far was fruitless, the pass in front being blocked up with snow.
For this I was quite unprepared, having been led to believe that the road to
Kashmir in this direction was always open, and no hint having been given
me at Iskardo that my delay there might in the least prevent my reaching
Kashmir. The heavy snow-fall of the last three or four days seemed to have
been something quite unusual; and it had accumulated, as I was told, on the

pass to a depth which quite precluded all possibility of a passage for many
days to come.
Notwithstanding all these assurances, I should certainly have tried to
advance at least as far as Maten, had I not found at Dras one of the principal
inhabitants of Kargyl, who had returned the day before from that place,
after attempting in the morning to advance towards the pass, which is ten
miles further on, and being stopped by finding the snow ten and twelve feet
deep, and quite soft. After the assurances of this traveller, I should not have
been justified in taking so many porters across the pass, supposing them to
have acceded to my wishes to make the attempt; I therefore very reluctantly
gave up the idea of proceeding.
It then became a question what I should do. It might and would probably be
many weeks before the pass would be practicable for loaded men. To have
remained at Dras so long would have been impossible. The demands of my
party for fuel were found very difficult to supply, even for a day, the faggots
of brushwood, which alone are there available, being soon consumed, and,
therefore, unwillingly parted with; I therefore resolved to return to Iskardo,
and remain there till the return of spring should enable me to resume my
travels, and to visit the district further down the Indus, before crossing into
Kashmir.
My return journey, being from a severe to a milder
RETURN climate, was sufficiently agreeable. At first a succession
TOWARDS
ISKARDO. of bright and clear days reduced the temperature very
December, 1847. much. The thermometer fell to zero in the mornings,
and the frost throughout the day was intense. I was no
longer able to inhabit my tent, which I had continued to occupy up to the
period of my arrival at Dras, where, in the Sikh fort, I found, rather to my
surprise, a room, with a fire-place and chimney, allotted for my
accommodation by the kindness of the commandant. In descending again
towards the Indus, I took shelter in the villages, occupying, if possible, a
cow-house in preference to one used by the inhabitants. The houses are
generally built of waterworn stones, without cement, but plastered with
mud outside and inside. The roofs are flat; the rafters are unsawn trees or
branches of poplar, covered with willow twigs, over which is laid a thick
coating of mud. A hole in the centre of the roof serves for a chimney, the

fire being made in the centre of the floor. In some of the poorer villages the
houses were less elaborate, consisting merely of wattle-work of willow
twigs, covered with a thin coating of clay.
In the open plain below Dras I observed many withered
FROZEN stems of Prangos, the celebrated Umbelliferous plant
WATERFALLS.
December, 1847. so much valued by the inhabitants of Dras as a food for
their sheep, still bearing ripe seeds. Juniper, too, was
common, even along the bank of the stream. As I descended the river, I
found that a very few days had made a great change in the temperature. The
river was everywhere hard frozen, and all the little streams which ran down
the mountain-sides were coated with a thick shell of ice. More than once I
saw a waterfall with a covering, perhaps a yard in thickness, of clear blue
ice, under which the little streamlet could be distinctly seen. At Ulding,
though the cold was severe, I found the ground partially free of snow, so
that the amount of fall, at that distance from the central chain of mountains,
had been quite insignificant.
On the 19th of December, on which day I regained the valley of the Indus, it
was again snowing heavily, after an interval of exactly seven days. The
river was now entirely frozen over, and so solid, that one of my servants, a
native of India, losing his way in the snow-storm, instead of turning to the
left on arriving at the Indus, walked across the river to a village on the right
bank, without being aware that he had quitted the proper road.
Instead of keeping the left bank of the river, as I had done in my upward
course, I crossed it on the ice about three or four miles above the village of
Kartash, or Karmang, as it is also called, and kept on the north side till
within a mile of Tolti. About two miles below Kartash, there are a
succession of rapids in the stream, which extend, without much
intermission, considerably more than a mile, and must produce a very
considerable change in the elevation of its bed. The river was nowhere
frozen between Kartash and Tolti, the stream being too rapid to freeze
readily. In crossing to the left bank I made use of a raft of skins, which
consisted of a light frame-work of willow rods, six feet square, resting on
about a dozen inflated sheep or goat skins. This flimsy contrivance just
floated on the water when loaded with three or four people.

At Tolti and at Karmang are the only rope-bridges
ROPE BRIDGES. which I saw on the Indus, above Iskardo. The cables
December, 1847.
used in their construction are here made of willow
twigs, twisted into a thick rope. Seven such ropes on each side are
combined to form the parallel lateral cables, about a yard apart, from which
the road way of the bridge is suspended. These bridges are perfectly safe,
though, from their open structure, rather formidable to those who are not
accustomed to use them. The principle on which they are made is the same
as one which is in use in all the hill provinces of India, from the Khasya
mountains and Butan, as far west as the Indus; but the material differs with
each particular locality, cane being used in the most eastern parts, rope
(often of grass or Eriophorum) in the Western Himalaya; and in Tibet,
where even that material is not available, willow twigs are employed as a
substitute.
In many parts of the Indus valley, even in the most rugged and desolate
spots, I noticed, occasionally, trees of the Elæagnus and of apricot, growing
in rocky places along the river, where it was very evident that they had
never been planted. The Elæagnus is always conspicuous, even in mid-
winter, in consequence of the withered leaves remaining attached to the tree
instead of falling at the end of autumn. Occasionally, no doubt, the
occurrence of these trees was due to the former existence of villages in the
vicinity of the places in which they were observed, but they also seemed
sometimes to occur in places where no cultivation could ever have existed.
Their occurrence, however, must, I think, be considered purely accidental:
they were too few in number to be regarded as really indigenous; nor is it
surprising that these trees, which are so extensively cultivated round all the
villages of Baltistan, and so universally used as food by the inhabitants,
should occasionally vegetate at a great distance from their usual place of
growth.
I reached Iskardo on the evening of the 25th of
WINTER AT December, and succeeded, without difficulty, in hiring a
ISKARDO.
December, 1847. house sufficiently large to accommodate all my party.
As I remained stationary at this place for two months, I
was able to make some observations of the thermometer, and to watch the
state of the weather during the whole of that period. The elevation of
Iskardo above the level of the sea is about 7200 feet. Winter may be said to

have commenced on the 28th of November, on which day the first snow
fell. From that date, falls of snow recurred constantly at intervals, which
varied from two or three days to a week. The earlier falls were very slight,
not more than an inch or two in depth, but the quantity gradually increased,
until each fall was from four to six inches. The entire depth of the snow in
the middle of February, beyond which time the fresh falls were
insignificant, was from fifteen to eighteen inches.
After each fall of snow, the weather usually became bright and calm, with a
serene cloudless sky. The sun shone out brightly, and was agreeably warm
to the feel, while the temperature of the air rose nearly to, or a little above,
the freezing-point. In the earlier part of the winter, the snow melted rapidly,
and the ground in the open valley was generally nearly free of it before the
next fall. After the beginning of January, however, the cold increased, and
the snow lay permanently, except on the most sunny slopes. The sun
seemed to have much less power, and little thaw took place except on rocks
and beaten paths. The diminution in the quantity of snow by evaporation
was often considerable.
The greatest cold which was registered at Iskardo was at daybreak on the
8th of February, when Fahrenheit's thermometer stood at half a degree
above zero. The mean temperature at sunrise during the whole winter was
19½°, and that at two P.M. 33¾°. The mean temperature during the period
from the 28th of December to the 31st of January was 27½°, and from the
1st to the 24th of February 25¾°. The increase of cold was principally by
the depression of the night temperature, the mean highest temperature being
within a fraction of a degree the same during both periods.
On the first or second day of clear weather after a fall of snow, the
temperature in the morning was often very low, with abundant hoar-frost,
which, except at such times, was not seen at all. The surface of the plain
was covered with a dense fog, which remained till nearly noon before the
sun was able to dispel it. On the second or third day the sky would become
hazy, the sun being partly obscured by a thin stratum of cloud at a great
elevation. During the continuance of this haze, the temperature was always
more elevated than when the sky was clear. The hazy weather was once or
twice dissipated by violent winds, without any fall of snow on the open
plain; but more generally it increased gradually, till the sky was completely

and densely overcast, and snow began again to fall, perhaps most frequently
during the night.
During the greater part of the winter the snow was invariably in extremely
minute grains. It was not till the latter part of February, when spring was
rapidly approaching, that large flakes fell. I more than once observed the
phenomenon of small quantities of extremely fine-grained snow falling
when the sky was quite clear, and the air at the surface of the earth quite
motionless. During clear weather very little thaw took place, the cold
produced by radiation appearing to counteract the sun's action; at the same
time the snow diminished rapidly by evaporation, which was not the case
when the sky was overcast.
The fall of snow was evidently much less considerable in the open plain
than on the mountains round Iskardo. During the heavier falls, the snow on
the steep mountain slopes often slipped downwards. It was but rarely that
these avalanches were visible, but the noise of the snow in motion was
heard like distant thunder, often many times a day, and the bare spots which
it had left could be seen after the snow-storm had ceased. When the weather
was settled, the wind was in general very gentle, and blew up the valley of
the Indus; during snow-storms it was usually violent, and very irregular in
direction. The storms came mostly from the south-west, a moisture-bringing
upper current of air from that direction being condensed by the dry and cold
north wind.
My collections had accumulated to such an extent, and got into such
confusion, during five months of almost incessant travelling, that I was very
glad to have an opportunity of devoting some time to their arrangement, and
found, without difficulty, occupation for all my time during two months of
rest. The snow was never so deep as to prevent me from taking regular
exercise, so that I was soon familiar with all the roads in the neighbourhood
of the town, and examined the cliffs of clay in every direction in search of
fossils, without discovering (as I had some hopes of doing) any mammalian
remains. The communication with Le was open all winter; I was therefore
able to correspond with Captain Strachey, who, after examining the course
of the Indus from the Chinese boundary downwards, was spending the
winter there. By his assistance I succeeded in replenishing my store of tea
and sugar, both of which were exhausted. The sugar which I procured from

Le was very good, and the brick tea, though not superexcellent in quality,
was, in the absence of better, quite good enough for use. Other supplies I
had no difficulty in procuring at Iskardo, sheep and flour being abundant.
The wood supplied for fuel was almost entirely Elæagnus, no wild timber
occurring in the country.
The Thannadar of Iskardo, who is the deputy of Maharajah Gulab Singh of
Kashmir, is the governor of all Balti, but he rules by means of native
Mahommedan chiefs or rajahs. In some instances, where no opposition was
made to the Sikh invasion, the former ruler was allowed to retain his
position; in other cases a change was made. At Iskardo, Mahommed Shah,
the present Rajah, had been an exile in Kashmir, from being on bad terms
with his father. He is a feeble and sickly young man, without the energy of
his father, M. Vigne's host in Iskardo. The inhabitants of Balti, though
Tibetan in language and appearance, are all Mahommedans, and differ from
the more eastern Tibetans of Le (who call themselves Bhotias, or
inhabitants of Bhot) by being taller and less stoutly made. Their language, I
am told, differs considerably from that of Le, but only as one dialect differs
from another.

CHAPTER IX.
Leave Iskardo for Rondu—Insurrection in Gilgit—Koardu—Kamar—Enter narrow part of Indus
valley—Difficult road—Range of mountains south of Indus—Description of Rondu—Thawar—
Avalanches—Alluvium—Swing bridge—Villages—Juniper—Pinus excelsa—Rocks—Vegetation
—Return to Iskardo—Agriculture of Balti—Game of Chaugan—Chakor hunting—Shigar valley
—Journey towards Kashmir—Dras valley—Karbu—Dras fort—Maten—Cross pass into Kashmir
—Baltal—Valley of Sind river—Sonamarg—Gagangir—Gond—Gangan—Ganderbal—Enter
main valley of Kashmir—Town of Kashmir—Description of Kashmir—Lacustrine formation—
Trap hills—Lake—Climate—Vegetation.

It was not till the 25th of February that the approach of spring was
sufficiently decided to permit me to make a move with any chance of fair
weather. On that day I started from Iskardo, with the intention of making

eight or ten days' journey down the Indus in the direction of Rondu. The
district of Rondu may be understood to comprise the whole of the narrow
part of the Indus valley, from the western end of the Iskardo plain to the
great bend of that river, where it assumes a southerly direction. It is only
during the winter season that the route along the valley of the Indus is much
frequented, as it is quite impracticable for horses, and so very bad even for
travellers on foot, that the road over the passes towards Hasora is always
preferred in summer. At the season of my journey I had no option, the
passes being still covered with heavy snow.
Unfortunately for my objects, the inhabitants of Gilgit
KOARDU. had since the beginning of winter been in a state of
February, 1848.
open insurrection, and had besieged the garrison placed
by Gulab Singh in one of the forts of the valley. Attempts had been made by
the Thannadar of Iskardo to send a force to their relief, but the garrison of
that place was too weak to enable him to detach more than a very small
portion of it; and the forced levies of Balti men, collected in all the districts
of the country, had evidently no desire to fight against the more active
inhabitants of Gilgit and the robber tribes of the higher valleys of Hunza
and Nagyr. Large parties of fifty and a hundred were continually arriving
during the winter at Iskardo, and were as soon as possible despatched
towards the disturbed country; but the greater number of them, I was told,
managed to desert, and to return to their villages, or to hiding-places
elsewhere, long before the detachment arrived at the end of its journey.
Crossing the Indus in the ferry-boat, a little below the rock of Iskardo, my
road lay along the north bank of the river, through extensive tracts of
cultivation. There was much less snow on the surface of the fields in the
village of Koardu, the first through which I passed on the north bank, than
in the town of Iskardo, owing to the more favourable exposure. The
villagers were busy sprinkling a thin layer of earth over the snow to hasten
its melting. This village, which is about five miles distant from Iskardo, is
backed by very high masses of clay conglomerate and clay, forming very
irregular, often precipitous banks, resting on the ancient rocks behind. From
Iskardo these beds are very conspicuous, but in the village itself only a very
small portion can be seen at a time.

West of Koardu, a ridge of mica-slate, containing
KAMAR. abundance of garnets, advances close to the river,
February, 1848.
which here runs on the northern side of the valley. The
road up the valley skirts the base of this projecting spur, and then passes
over level platforms for about four miles. The level tracts were still covered
with snow, but in rocky places, and on all slopes facing the south, the
ground was quite bare. Four miles from Koardu I passed the very large
village of Kamar, the fields rising in terraces one behind another on a
steeply sloping platform, which skirts the plain for nearly two miles. Behind
the village, the same system of conglomerate and clay-beds, as at Koardu,
rises in steep banks.
About a mile beyond Kamar, which is the last village on the north side of
the Iskardo plain, the valley of the Indus contracts very suddenly, the
mountains closing in upon the river. The beds of lacustrine clay extend
without any diminution to the end of the open valley, and are covered, when
close to the mountains, by numerous boulders of all sizes, many of which
are of great dimensions. The fine clay at the termination of the open plain
appears to underlie a great mass of boulder conglomerate, which is
continued into the narrow part of the river valley.
Where the river passes from the open plain into the
ENTRANCE OF narrow ravine, the inclination of its bed seems
RONDU.
February, 1848. increased, and the rapidity of its motion becomes much
greater. This result is quite in accordance with what has
been observed in the Nubra and Khapalu plains. Indeed, narrow valleys are
so generally steeply sloping, and wide valleys so generally nearly level, that
it can scarcely be doubted that the inclination of the surface is in some way
connected with the width or amount of excavation of the valley.
For a mile or two beyond the end of the Iskardo plain, the mountains are
sufficiently far apart to allow of the interposition of a narrow platform of
conglomerate, over which the road runs. Soon, however, even this
disappears, and thenceforward, as far as I went, the Indus runs through a
narrow ravine of very uniform character. The mountains on both sides of
the river are extremely steep, and, so far as I could judge at so early a
season, almost uniformly rocky and precipitous. At distant intervals a small
platform of alluvium is interposed between the cliffs and the river, but much

more frequently precipices directly overhang the stream, or steep bare
rocks, only not absolutely precipitous, rise from its margin. It is but seldom
that the stony bed of the river or the alluvial platforms overhanging it,
afford a level road for a few hundred yards at a time. In general the path
continually ascends and descends over each successive ridge; the elevation
to which it is required to ascend to find a practicable passage, varying from
a few hundred to several thousand feet above the bottom of the valley. In at
least eight or ten places between Iskardo and Rondu, the path ascends or
descends by means of ladders placed against the face of a perpendicular
wall of rock, or crosses fissures in the cliffs by planks laid horizontally over
them. This road is therefore quite impracticable for beasts of burden or
horses, and is never used except in winter, when no other route is open to
the traveller.
As the road lies altogether on the north or right bank of
INDUS VALLEY. the Indus, the elevation and appearance of the
February, 1848.
mountains on that side cannot well be seen. This range
separates the Indus valley from that of Shigar, which is in no part of Rondu
more than twenty-five miles distant, and is crossed in several places by
passes at the head of the larger ravines. These passes being still blocked up
with snow, I could not cross them, nor ascertain their elevation, which is
perhaps nowhere less than fourteen or fifteen thousand feet, except at the
very eastern extremity of the ridge.
From the higher parts of the road, where it attained an elevation of eight and
nine thousand feet, the mountain ranges on the south of the Indus could be
well seen. They were covered with snow from base to summit, and in
general rose so very abruptly, that the nearer spurs completely concealed
from view the main range, except when a more open valley than usual
permitted the view to extend backwards. Occasionally very lofty peaks
were seen, which appeared to attain a height of at least eighteen or twenty
thousand feet; but, as the whole landscape was covered with snow,
distances could not be estimated with any accuracy. As the ridge to the
south of the Indus keeps very close to the river, it is probable that the
highest summits seen in that direction were situated beyond the valley of
Hasora.

The villages of Rondu are not numerous, and are of
VILLAGES OF very small extent; still every available spot seems to be
RONDU.
February, 1848. occupied by a small patch of cultivation. The platforms
are generally high above the river. In the lower part of
the district, where the lateral ravines are of greater length, they open out
above the very steep slope, by which they debouche into the Indus, into
gently sloping open valleys. The villages of Thawar and Murdu, being
situated in these open valleys, are much more extensive than any of those
close to the Indus. The fort of Rondu is on the left bank of the river, on a
platform perhaps two hundred feet above its level, nearly opposite the end
of the Thawar valley, and not far from the termination of a valley which
descends from the southern mountains, along which there is a road across a
pass to Hasora.
From Iskardo to Thawar, a large village in a lateral ravine on the north side
of the Indus, almost opposite to the fort of Rondu, the road distance is about
forty miles. As five days were employed in traversing this distance, the
average day's journey was only eight miles; and yet, from the difficult
nature of the road, all the marches appeared long, and were felt to be very
fatiguing. A great part of the road being at an elevation much more
considerable than that the Iskardo plain, I met with much snow on all the
higher parts of the mountains. In the valley of the Indus thaw made rapid
progress, and by the beginning of March, in favourable exposures, there
was no snow below 8000 feet.
The progress of the thaw occasioned constant
AVALANCHES. avalanches, the snow slipping from the steep sides of
March, 1848.
the ravines, and when once in motion, advancing with
constantly increasing momentum till it reached the lowest level. All day
long the mountains echoed with the sound of falling snow; the avalanches
were not often visible, as they took place in the ravines, but now and then
(where the ravines terminated in precipices) they were seen pouring in
cataracts of snow over the face of the cliffs. In each large ravine which
joined the Indus I found one of these gigantic avalanches, and was enabled
to see that they were composed of a congeries of balls of snow, varying in
diameter from one to six feet, and often containing fragments of rock in
their centre. Many of these snow-streams were not less than forty or fifty

feet thick. At the level of the Indus they were now very soft, and evidently
thawing rapidly.
In many parts of Rondu are to be seen very distinct indications of the
boulder conglomerate, by which the ravine was perhaps at one period
entirely filled; though from the very steep slopes of the mountains in most
places, there is not often a resting-place for it. The platforms on which the
villages are built are all formed of this alluvium, and are often covered with
transported blocks of vast size. Between Siri and Baicha I saw several
which were not less than sixty feet in length. In the upper part of the valley
of Thawar, which is more level than the ravines higher up the Indus, a great
accumulation of clay and boulders is seen attaining a height of at least 8000
feet above the level of the sea, as it forms hills a thousand feet above the
village, which is at least as much above the Indus.
The valley in which the village of Thawar is situated slopes gently towards
the Indus till near its termination, when it descends extremely abruptly
down a very steep inclined bank of boulders, which appears to block up the
whole of the end of the valley. The slope of this steep bank was so great that
it was only possible to descend by a very devious route. Between the lower
part of the cultivation and the commencement of the steep slope, the valley
was very irregular, and filled with heaps of boulders, forming long low
hills. The appearance of the mass of debris in this valley was very
remarkable, and had much the appearance of an old moraine deposited by a
glacier, which had extended as far as the end of the present cultivation, and
had shot forward the boulders by which it had been covered into the abyss
below.
The Indus is crossed by a swing-bridge of willow twigs,
BRIDGE OF which leads from the villages on the north bank to the
RONDU.
March, 1848. fort of Rondu. From Thawar I descended to this bridge,
in order to ascertain the boiling-point of water, so as to
get an approximation to the elevation of the bed of the river. It is thrown
across a remarkably contracted part of the river, where it flows between
perpendicular rocks rising several hundred feet out of the water, and the
path by which the bridge is reached from Thawar descends the scarped face
of the precipice by a succession of ladders.

From the boiling-point of water I estimated the elevation of the bridge,
which was more than a hundred feet above the river, at 6200 feet. This
would indicate a fall of about 1000 feet since leaving Iskardo, or, as the
river flows very tranquilly till it leaves the Iskardo plain, from the
commencement of Rondu, a distance by the road of twenty-nine miles, but
not, I should think, more than twenty along the course of the river, as the
road winds very much in crossing ridges. This is equivalent to a fall of
about fifty feet per mile, which, for a stream discharging so vast a volume
of water, is very considerable indeed, but not more than is indicated by the
general turbulent course of the river.
The villages of Rondu, though mostly small, have
CULTIVATED abundance of fruit-trees. The apricot is still the
TREES.
March, 1848. commonest of these; but there are also many fine
walnuts, and plenty of vines climbing up the trees, and
remarkable for the great size of their trunks. Willows are very common, and
two kinds of poplar, and now and then there occurs a plane-tree of
enormous girth and stature, which must, no doubt, afford a most welcome
shade from the rays of the too-powerful sun of summer, the heat of which,
in so deep and rocky a ravine, must be very oppressive. The willow and
poplar had already begun to show signs of vitality, the flower-buds being
almost ready to expand; the other trees seemed still quite inert.

All over the hills of Rondu the juniper[16] is rather common, and seemingly
quite at home both on the higher ridges, and in the bottom of the ravine
close to the river. It forms generally a low bush, but occasionally I saw
small trees, and once, in a level tract close to the river and near a village, a
considerable tree perhaps forty feet high. The young plants had made
considerable shoots, and were covered with longish acicular patent leaves,
very different from the short adpressed scaly leaves of the adult plant.
Rondu is remarkable for producing another Coniferous
PINE TREES.
March, 1848.
tree, indeed a true pine, namely, Pinus excelsa, which
occurs in small groves in several places on the south
side of the river, at elevations from eight to ten thousand feet above the sea.
It was first observed opposite the village of Siri, but is more plentiful above
the fort of Rondu. One or two trees occur close to the river, and on the north
side, so that I was enabled to get specimens and ascertain the species. The

occurrence of this tree must be considered to indicate a greater degree of
humidity than exists in the upper parts of the Indus valley, so that Rondu is
the place of transition between the Tibetan climate and that of the eastern
Punjab, into which the Indus passes at its point of exit from the mountains.
The mountains of Rondu contain much granite, which occurs in great mass
at the bridge opposite the fort. In this place the granite occupies the lower
part of the ravine, close to the river, while the higher parts of the mountains
are composed of gneiss or clay-slate, sometimes passing into sandstone, or
of a highly crystalline magnesian rock. The granite consists chiefly of
quartz and mica, the former, as well as the felspar, white, the mica black
and highly crystalline. The stratified rocks are always highly metamorphic,
and are shattered and dislocated by the intrusion of the granite to a very
great extent.
Below Thawar and the fort of Rondu, the valley of the
LOWER PART OF Indus continues extremely narrow and difficult, and
RONDU.
March, 1848. ceases to be inhabited at the village and fortified post of
Tok, at which place a few soldiers are stationed, to keep
up the communication with Gilgit, and to give notice of any incursions from
that side. Thence, as far as the mountain range which bounds the Gilgit
valley on the east, the valley is said to be quite desert. The disturbed state of
Gilgit had made me abandon my original intention of continuing my
journey in that direction; I therefore made only one march to the westward
of Thawar, and found the ravine, along which the river flowed, so barren
and uninteresting, that I did not consider it necessary to visit Tok, but
retraced my steps towards Iskardo, which I reached on the 11th of March.
I should have been glad to have had an opportunity of
VEGETATION OF observing the nature of the vegetation of the valley of
RONDU.
March, 1848. Rondu, but the season of the year was unfortunately not
favourable for that purpose. The cultivated plants were
not different from those of Iskardo, and much of the shrubby vegetation was
the same as that common higher up the Indus. An ash, of which the flowers
were just expanded, but which was still quite leafless, appeared a novelty;
but it was probably the same species which I had already collected in
Kunawar and Piti. The only subtropical plants of which I saw any traces,
were Linaria ramosissima, a shrubby Plectranthus, now leafless, but which

I guessed to be P. rugosus, and some withered stems of tall reedy grasses,
species of Saccharum and Erianthus. In summer, no doubt, many more
would have occurred, and a complete list of the plants of Rondu would be
of very great interest, as illustrative of the connection between the alpine
flora of Ladak, which passes into that of Siberia, and the vegetation of the
mountains of Affghanistan, the plants of which are in a great measure the
same as those of Persia and Asia Minor. There is also a transition through
this country, down the valley of the Indus, to a third flora, that of the hot dry
plains of the Punjab and of Sind, which extends with little variation along
the littoral districts of Beluchistan and Persia, into Arabia and Egypt.
On my return to Iskardo, I found the plain almost free from snow, a little
only remaining on banks facing the north. The mountains on the south side
of the valley were, however, still snow-clad to the very base, and the fruit-
trees had scarcely begun to show any signs of vegetation. Along the
watercourses there was more appearance of spring; a little gentian and
Hutchinsia were already in flower, and most of the spring plants had begun
to grow rapidly.
The return of spring set the whole population of the
AGRICULTURAL district to work in their fields; and both in Rondu and in
OPERATIONS.
March, 1848. the neighbourhood of Iskardo, I had an opportunity of
seeing the mode in which the processes of agriculture
are carried on. As soon as the ground is clear of snow, the manure, which
has been accumulated during the preceding year, consisting of the contents
of the cowhouse and stable, mixed with every sort of refuse, is carried in
small baskets to the fields, on which it is deposited in small heaps. It is then
spread uniformly over the surface by hand. Occasionally the field has had a
previous ploughing, but it is more usually just in the state in which it had
been left after the harvesting of the previous crop.
After the manure has been spread, it is ploughed into the land. The plough
is usually drawn by a pair of bullocks, and is formed entirely of wood, the
front part being blunted and hollow. The ploughshare, a sharp and hard
piece of wood, is passed through the hollow, beyond which it projects
several inches. This moveable piece of wood does the principal work, and is
easily replaced when it has sustained injury. After the ploughing, the seed is
sown broadcast, and the field is then harrowed. The harrow is a frame-work

of wood, weighted with stones, but without spikes; or a heavy board,
weighted; or occasionally only a thorny bush, with several large stones laid
upon it. It is generally drawn by one man, who assists its action by breaking
with his feet the clods which would otherwise be too bulky to be crushed by
it. The harrowing is repeated till the soil is reduced to a sufficient fineness,
an operation which is much facilitated by the dryness of the atmosphere.
The field is then laid out into small square beds, for convenience of
irrigation, and water is supplied to it at intervals throughout the summer.
About the middle of March, an assembly of all the principal inhabitants of
the district took place at Iskardo, on some occasion of ceremony or
festivity, the nature of which I have forgotten. I was thus fortunate enough
to be a witness of the national game of the Chaugan, which is derived from
Persia, and has been described by Mr. Vigne as hockey on horseback, a
definition so exact, as to render a further detail unnecessary. Large
quadrangular enclosed meadows for this game may be seen in all the larger
villages of Balti, often surrounded by rows of beautiful willow and poplar
trees.
About the same time, I was invited by the Thannadar of
CHAKOR Iskardo to be present at a hunting party, which he had
HUNTING.
March, 1848. arranged for the capture of the chakor, or painted
partridge, by surrounding a spot of ground, in which
these birds are numerous, with a ring of men, who, approaching from all
directions, gradually form a dense circle of perhaps a hundred yards in
diameter. When the partridges are disturbed by a horseman in this
enclosure, they naturally fly towards the living wall by which they are
surrounded. Loud shouts, and the beating of drums and waving of caps and
cloaks, turn them back, and they are driven from side to side, till at last,
exhausted with fatigue, and stupid from the noise and confusion, they sink
to the ground, and allow themselves to be caught by hand. The scene was a
very striking one. The spot selected was a deep dell, full of rocks, but
without trees. The sport, however, did not seem so successful as usual, six
or eight birds only being captured. The chakor is an extremely common bird
in all parts of the valley of the Indus, and indeed throughout Tibet. In
winter, when the hills are covered with snow, they are to be found in great
numbers close to the river, even in the immediate neighbourhood of the

villages; and in general, when approached, they lie very close among the
crevices of the stones.
Before finally leaving Iskardo, I devoted three days to a
SHIGAR VALLEY. visit to the valley of Shigar, which is watered by a very
March, 1848.
large tributary which joins the Indus opposite the rock
of Iskardo. The terminal ridges of the mountain ranges on both sides of the
Shigar river, advance close to the centre of the valley where the stream
enters the Indus. The road to Shigar from Iskardo, therefore, crosses low
hills of dark schistose rocks, winding among dry valleys which are
occupied by great masses of alluvium. A coarse sandstone, horizontally
stratified, formed beds of fifty feet thick, alternating with and capped by
beds of clay conglomerate containing numerous angular fragments. The
sandstone was very similar to that which I had previously seen on the top of
the rock of Iskardo, and rested upon thinner strata of a bluish-grey indurated
clay, quite non-fossiliferous, and different in appearance from any deposit
which I had seen in Tibet. These lacustrine strata occupied both sides of the
valley along which the road lay. From the summit of the low range of hills,
the road descended rapidly to the level of the cultivation of the Shigar plain.
The Shigar river flows through a wide gravelly channel in many branches;
and low, grassy, and swampy tracts skirt the stream. Fifty feet above these
are the platforms of alluvium, which extend along the left bank of the river
uninterruptedly for five or six miles, and vary in width from a quarter of a
mile to a mile or more. They are almost entirely covered with arable land,
formed into terraces which rise gradually one above another, and a
succession of small villages are scattered among the fields. Numerous little
streams descend from the mountains, and irrigation canals ramify in every
direction. Ploughing was the universal occupation of the villagers; and the
yellow flowers of Tussilago Farfara were everywhere seen expanding on
the clayey banks of the rivulets.
The fort of Shigar is close to the mountains on the east side of the valley,
where a considerable stream makes its exit from them. By this stream, Mr.
Vigne ascended to a pass on the high range to the eastward, and descended
upon the Shayuk at the village of Braghar. Where it terminates in the Shigar
plain, this valley is for a few hundred yards very narrow; but a little above
its entrance it widens considerably, and the flanks of the mountains are
covered with a great accumulation of the alluvial deposits, clinging to the

face of the rocks on both sides, certainly as high as a thousand feet above
the stream. The beds were sometimes, but rarely, stratified, and were very
variable in appearance. Coarse conglomerates, at one time with angular
boulders, at others, with rounded stones, alternated with coarse and fine
sand and finely laminated clays. No fossils of any kind were observed.
In summer, the discharge of the Shigar river, which descends from the
snowy masses of the Muztagh or Kouen-lun, must be immense, as
prodigious glaciers descend very low among the valleys of its different
branches. Up one of the streams a practicable road exists towards Yarkand
over an enormous glacier. I met with one or two people at Iskardo who had
traversed it; but it is now not at all frequented, being very unsafe, in
consequence of the marauding propensities of the wild Mahommedan tribes
who inhabited the Hunza valley. It was described to me as an exceedingly
difficult road, lying for several days over the surface of the glacier.
On the 31st of March, I left Iskardo for the last time. It
DEPARTURE FROM was expected that the pass between Dras and Kashmir
ISKARDO.
April, 1848. would be easily accessible by the time I should reach it.
My road as far as Dras was the same as that along
which I had twice travelled in December, and, except from the indications
of returning spring, was much the same as it had then been. The crops of
wheat and barley in the fields in the Iskardo plain were an inch or two high,
the buds of the apricot were just beginning to swell, and the willows had
almost expanded their flowers.
At Gol and Nar, where the valley is narrow and the heat therefore more
concentrated, the corn was considerably further advanced, and in some of
the apricot flowers the petals had begun to expand. Wild flowers had also
begun to vegetate: a violet was in flower on the banks of streamlets, as well
as a Primula and an Androsace. Above Parkuta, again, the season was more
backward. Large snow-banks, which had descended in avalanches, still
remained in all the larger furrows on the mountain-sides. The river had been
discoloured since the day I left Iskardo, and on the 4th of April, the day I
reached Kartash, it became very much so, and was said to be rising rapidly.
On the 6th of April, I entered the Dras valley, and
VALLEY OF DRAS. encamped at Ulding Thung, where there were still a few
April, 1848.

patches of snow. On the 7th, I marched to Hardas, ten miles. Here, at about
9000 feet, spring had scarcely commenced. The fruit-trees showed no signs
of vitality; and though the fields had been ploughed, the grain had not yet
begun to vegetate. The valley of the Dras river begins to expand at the
village of Bilergu, four or five miles above Ulding. As soon as there is
enough of level space, beds of conglomerate, and more rarely of fine clay,
appear along the river. Round the village of Bilergu, the poplars, willows,
and apricots are as numerous as in the valley of the Indus; but beyond it, the
inclination of the valley is considerable, and at Hardas there were but few
trees. Above Bilergu the quantity of snow increased considerably, and the
contrast between the sides of the valley was very striking: at Hardas, the
shady slope was quite white, while that facing the south had only a few
patches of snow.
On the 8th of April, I marched to Karbu, eight miles. As I advanced, I found
much more snow; but the road was in general free, except in the ravines
where snow-slips had descended. On the latter part of the day, these were
universal in all the ravines, and were frequently of great depth, and so soft
as to be difficult to cross: on the least deviation from the beaten path, I sank
to the middle at every step. These avalanches were cut off abruptly by the
river, forming cliffs of snow fifteen or twenty feet high, in which the
structure and development of the mass by successive slips, alternating with
falls of snow, could be distinctly made out. One or two of them still crossed
the river, which flowed below the bridge of ice. Three miles below Karbu,
the granite, which had been the rock ever since entering Dras, was replaced
by a peculiar slate, apparently magnesian, and perhaps hornblende slate,
passing into or containing beds of a coarse sandstone.
At Karbu, where I was detained a day, the Thannadar not having expected
me so soon, and my porters not being ready, the weather was very unsettled,
and in the evening, and during the nights of the 8th and 9th of April, there
was a good deal of rain, especially on the 9th. The wind during the storm
was very irregular in direction. The ground was still covered to the depth of
more than a foot with snow. The morning of the 10th was gloomy, but as
the day advanced the clouds broke, and the afternoon was bright and
beautiful, with a gentle air down the valley.

On the 11th of April I reached the fort of Dras. For the
FORT OF DRAS. last ten miles the snow lay continuously, and two or
April, 1848.
three feet deep, but there was always a clear path. The
temperature being much above the freezing-point, the thaw proceeded
rapidly. A good deal of Prangos, which is evidently a common wild plant
(as it is also in many parts of Kashmir), was seen; the withered
inflorescence projecting through the snow. I observed it also very
abundantly in the hay, which is preserved in the villages, and seems to
consist of all the plants of the meadows cut indiscriminately, and not of
Prangos alone, as I had erroneously imagined.
My former journey having terminated at Dras, the road
MATEN. in advance was new to me; but the whole country being
April, 1848.
still covered with snow, I could see little of the nature
of the surface. The fort of Dras is about 10,000 feet above the sea: it is
situated in an open, nearly level plain of some width, skirted by low hills.
The higher mountains, which are several miles distant on both sides, are
very steep. Several villages are scattered over the plain, at some distance
from the fort, which stands alone, on the bank of a little stream, just before
it joins the Dras river. Beyond Dras, the road to the pass having scarcely
been used, there was no beaten path. In the morning the snow was hard and
firm, and even in the afternoon, notwithstanding the warmth of the midday
sun, the foot did not sink more than three or four inches. The depth of snow
increased rapidly as I advanced. Two miles above the fort the plain
contracts into a narrow valley, and the channel of the river becomes very
rocky; the stream is also very rapid, and the slope of its bed evidently
considerable. The valley again expands around the village of Pain Dras.
Immediately beyond this I crossed the river on a bridge of snow, at least
forty feet thick, which covered the river for more than a hundred yards. This
snow-bed, which was continuous with the general level of the surface, was
to all appearance quite solid. After a march of ten miles I encamped at
Maten, the last village of Dras, a small group of stone huts half a mile from
the river on its eastern bank, and immediately at the base of a very steep
scarped mountain, which rises in precipices several thousand feet above the
village. Maten I estimated, from the boiling-point of water, to be 10,700
feet above the sea.

On the 13th of April I crossed the pass into Kashmir,
ZOJI PASS. starting, as the distance was said to be considerable, at
April, 1848.
about half-past two o'clock in the morning. The evening
before had been dull, with irregular squalls of wind, so that the weather did
not promise very favourably. It was very dark and quite calm at two A.M.,
and when I started it snowed slightly, but not enough to induce me to stop,
as I hoped it would cease with daylight. Unfortunately, on the contrary, it
increased rapidly, and by four o'clock was snowing heavily, and continued
to do so till the afternoon. There was no wind, and the air was very mild, so
that I suffered no inconvenience from cold. The surface of the snow, even in
the morning, was a little soft, the cloudy night having prevented it from
freezing. After four o'clock it snowed so heavily that the accumulation of
fresh snow soon amounted to several feet, and we sank above the knee at
every step. There was scarcely any slope, the road appearing quite
horizontal. Before daylight my guides managed to lose their way, and we
wandered for more than half an hour puzzled by our own footsteps. The
compass was of no use, as I did not know the direction in which we ought
to proceed, nor was it till after dawn that we recovered the road.
After daylight there was no improvement in any
VALLEY OF THE respect, as the heavy snow completely obscured the
SIND RIVER.
April, 1848. view. The leaders of the party, however, seemed to
recognize the outlines of the hills, as they held their
course without hesitation. The valley was quite full of snow, which
completely covered all irregularities of surface. The river was often quite
covered by the mass of snow for distances of more than a furlong without
interruption. Our path often crossed it; and, latterly, for several miles before
gaining the crest of the pass, the stream was completely concealed.
About noon the snow fell more lightly, and we could see around. The width
of the valley was from half a mile to a mile, and steep mountains rose on
both sides to a considerable height, the peaks being, I should think, at least
16,000 feet. Patches of willow and juniper were seen on the sides of the
hills. Still the road was to appearance quite level. The valley made several
bends, and we turned finally to the right, before gaining the crest of the
pass, to which there was a barely perceptible rise.

The descent was at first gradual, but soon became very steep, down a bank
of snow, which filled the whole of a narrow ravine. The rocky walls on
either side were at first bare, but soon became sprinkled with birch and
pine. For two thousand feet below the summit of the pass the descent was
uninterrupted, till I reached the banks of the Sind river, which flows through
the northernmost valley of Kashmir, and is separated from the main valley
by a lofty range of mountains. Here, on a level space separated by a little
stream from pine-forest, I found a log-hut buried up to the roof in snow,
which was heaped up round the building, probably from having been
thrown off the roof. The snow at Baltal—for so this first halting-place on
the Kashmir side of the Zoji pass is called—was not deep, probably little
more than what had fallen during the day.
My whole party took possession of the log-hut; but not
DETENTION AT liking the smoke which, in an instant, filled it, so that
BALTAL.
April, 1848. there was no seeing across its width, I had a space
cleared for my tent. It rained smartly in the evening, but
soon after dark it again began to snow, and long before morning I was
awoke by the cracking of the ridge-pole of my tent, which had given way
under the pressure of a foot and a half of snow. Had it fallen at once I
should probably have been buried till morning, as I was too distant to make
myself heard, and had to rise to summon assistance, to move my bed into
the log-hut.
All day on the 14th it snowed unceasingly, and my people would not
continue the journey; but on the 15th it was fair, and I gladly made a move,
as the log-hut of Baltal was a most uncomfortable resting-place. The road
lay along the Sind river, which ran to the south-west, through a deep but
rather open valley, only partially wooded. The forest consists partly of
pines, partly of deciduous-leaved trees. Of these I could recognize birch,
poplar, and willow, which formed the mass of the woods, but there were no
doubt many others. The pines were principally Pinus excelsa; silver fir and
spruce also occurred, but I saw no deodar nor Gerard's pine. The trees grew
in well defined masses of forest, separated by much open ground, in the
level plain which skirted the river on the south side of the valley; on this
side they also rose high on the mountains, but the slopes on the north side
were bare.

Seven or eight miles from Baltal, I found an
SONAMARG.
April, 1848. uninhabited house, at a place called Sonamarg[17],
where a bridge crosses the Sind river. Snow had been
continuous all the way, diminishing in depth as we descended the river. A
mile or two before reaching Sonamarg, the stream approaches close to the
mountains on the north side of the valley, barely leaving a passage for the
road, which for some distance skirted the base of steep cliffs. In one of the
ravines which here furrowed the mountain slopes, I had an opportunity of
seeing the descent of an avalanche. While crossing the ravine I was warned
by the sound that a snow-slip was approaching, but had abundance of time
to retreat to a place of safety before it came near. When the avalanche came
into sight, the ravine, which was narrow and deep, was completely filled by
balls of snow of various dimensions, which continued to flow past for
several minutes. The snow-slip terminated in the river, which was speedily
blocked up for two-thirds of its width with an immense accumulation of
snow.
At Sonamarg the Sind river bends abruptly towards the south, and enters a
rocky gorge, down which its stream advances with great rapidity, over a
steeply inclined bed, very rocky and much interrupted by rapids. Leaving
Sonamarg on the morning of the 16th of April, I crossed the river, and after
a mile and a half of level ground bare of trees, still covered with snow, I
entered a thin forest of pine and silver fir, which continued to the entrance
of the gorge. The silver fir (Picea Webbiana) was a fine straight tree, with
short horizontal or drooping branches, and its leaves were very variable in
length.
When I had fairly entered the narrow gorge of the river, I found that it was
in many places still blocked up with snow, which had descended in
avalanches down the narrow ravines, and had accumulated in the bed of the
stream. We crossed the river three times on snow-beds. From the rapidity of
the descent, however, the climate changed rapidly. After four or five miles
there was no snow, except in ravines, where it had accumulated in
avalanches, and at last even these had almost entirely melted away. Still
snow lay in patches on the right bank of the river, in the village of
Gagangir, at which I halted for the day; and on the left bank, which faced
the north, and was therefore in shade, snow still covered the whole surface
down to the bank of the river.

At the village of Gagangir the Sind river resumes its
GAGANGIR. south-westerly direction, and its valley becomes more
April, 1848.
open, and the descent of its bed less abrupt. The
elevation of the village is about 7900 feet above the level of the sea, so that
the descent from Sonamarg is probably not less than a thousand feet in a
distance of nine miles—a very considerable fall. On the latter part of the
day's journey, a very considerable change was observable in the aspect of
the vegetation. Birch and willow continued common throughout, but were
mixed latterly with many other trees and shrubs, all of which were
beginning to show symptoms of vitality. The hazel (Corylus lacera) and a
species of Viburnum were in full flower, both still devoid of leaves; a few
herbaceous plants were also in flower in open places, the most abundant of
which were a species of Colchicum, remarkable for its bright orange-
coloured flowers, and a pretty little rose-purple Corydalis, very closely
allied to, if not the same as, a species of eastern Europe. Still the general
aspect of the country was very wintry, as there were few pines, and the
forest was therefore quite bare of leaves, while the signs of progress, though
evident on a near inspection, did not attract attention in the general view.
At Gagangir, which is the first village of Kashmir by
SIND VALLEY. the route along which I was travelling, I was enabled to
April, 1848.
relieve my Dras porters, who had accompanied me so
far. The discharge and payment of these men occupied me a great part of the
17th of April; and as the day was rainy I did not leave Gagangir till the
18th, when I marched to Gond, seven miles. The road still followed the
course of the Sind river, which I crossed twice during the day. The width of
the valley was considerable all along, with much arable land, and a good
many villages in ruins on both sides. The mountains on the right hand were
uniformly bare of trees, and often rocky; on the left they were well wooded
to the summit, the forest being most dense above. Early in the day several
of the ravines were still full of snow; and on the shady side a good deal lay
in patches. Further on, the snow in the valley had quite disappeared, but on
the mountain slopes there was still plenty. As I advanced the cultivated land
increased in extent, and the appearance of the valley became exceedingly
picturesque, the centre being occupied by a broad belt of fields and
orchards, while the hills on both sides rose abruptly to a great elevation.
The fruit-trees were principally walnuts, apples, and apricots. Groves of

poplar occurred occasionally along the river, but I saw no birch during the
day. Many more spring plants were in flower than on the previous day;
Cruciferæ were the prevailing family, but I also collected species of Nepeta
and Gagea, and a pretty little tulip. On the latter part of the march, a small
shrubby species of Amygdalus was very abundant; and Fothergilla
involucrata of Falconer, a plant of the natural order Hamamelideæ, which
was just bursting into flower, formed a dense coppice on the hills on the
north bank of the river. Though the greater part of the plants was new to me,
still I recognized a number of species which occur in the valley of the
Indus. Juniperus excelsa was common in rocky places, and the Ribes and
rose were the same as those common at Iskardo.
On the 19th, the road still followed the course of the
VEGETATION. Sind river, now a rapid torrent, much swollen by the
April, 1848.
heavy rains, flowing through an open valley. A good
deal of level ground was interposed between the mountains and the stream,
and was laid out in terraced fields evidently adapted for rice cultivation, but
now quite bare. I met with many very interesting plants. Tussilago Farfara
was abundant, growing in gravelly places along the river. In shady woods a
species of Hepatica, with a small white flower, first discovered by Dr.
Falconer, was common. In more sunny places a Primula and Androsace
were in full flower. On open sandy soil a species of the curious Siberian
genus Ceratocephalus was a very striking novelty. On the higher hills there
was still dense forest of Pinus excelsa, spruce, silver fir, and deodar, mixed
with yew and Juniperus excelsa, and with many deciduous-leaved trees,
few of which were recognizable. After travelling twelve miles I encamped
at Gangan, which is elevated about 6000 feet.
Next day I remained stationary; but on the 21st I continued my journey to
Ganderbal, nine miles further and close to the point where the Sind valley
expands into the open plain of Kashmir. As I advanced, the valley gradually
widened, and turned more to the south. There were several platforms, or
steppes, as it were, of nearly level arable land, one above another, and
below them the river flowed through a wide stony plain. The mountains on
the right, high and snow-topped, receded to a considerable distance; those
on the left gradually diminished in elevation, became less covered with
forest, and at last terminated in low ranges of hills covered only with brush-
wood. The road was extremely pretty. At first it lay along the right bank of

the river, through fine underwood, and among beautiful meadows, which
skirted the bank of the stream; it then crossed to the left bank, and,
ascending the lower hills, entered a fine wood, in which apricot, pear, and
cherry trees, all bursting into flower, were common, and to all appearance
wild, though they had probably spread into these woods from the
neighbouring villages. Latterly we emerged upon a somewhat elevated
platform sloping to the south, covered with bushes and many fruit-trees,
with here and there a village, and a great deal of cultivated ground. Where
the Sind valley joined the plain of Kashmir, it was several miles in width,
and evidently richly cultivated. The expanse of the plain of Kashmir was
much greater than I had anticipated; the mountains on its south side, which
were still covered with snow, were in sight, but at a considerable distance.
Above Gond the valley of the Sind river is very poorly inhabited, and
deserted villages and abandoned cultivation showed that the population is
diminishing. The lower part of the valley, however, is very populous. The
villages are numerous and large, and the houses good: they are usually built
entirely or partially of wood, with high sloping roofs, which are either
thatched or covered with wood. The cultivated lands all rest upon platforms
or banks of alluvium, which are probably analogous to those of the Tibetan
valleys, though, as they are generally faced by sloping banks covered with
bush-jungle, their structure is not so easily determined as that of the
platforms of that more barren country.
On the morning of the 22nd of April, after following the
PLAIN OF base of the low hills for half a mile, till the last
KASHMIR.
April, 1848. projecting point had been rounded, I entered the valley
of Kashmir. This "celebrated valley" did not at all come
up to the expectations which I had formed from previous descriptions, and
from the appearance of the termination of the valley of the Sind river. The
first impression was one of considerable disappointment. It was by no
means well wooded, and the centre of the valley along the river, being very
low, had an unpleasant swampy appearance. The road to the town, which is
about ten miles from Ganderbal, led over an elevated platform. There were
several villages, and plane, willow, and fruit trees were scattered here and
there, though far from abundantly. The platform was in general covered
with a carpet of green, now spangled with myriads of dandelions and other
spring flowers. The mountains on the left, which at first were very low,

gradually rose in elevation, and were throughout rugged and bare. As I
approached the town I mounted an elephant, which formed a part of the
cortège sent, according to the usual oriental etiquette, to receive an
expected visitor; and I consequently saw the town to much better advantage
than I should have done had I ridden through it on my little Ladak pony.
Passing completely through the city, I was conducted to the Sheikh Bagh, a
garden on the banks of the Jelam, at its eastern extremity, in a pavilion in
the centre of which I took up my quarters.
The town of Kashmir is apparently of great extent, and
CITY OF KASHMIR. seems very densely populated. Its length is much
April, 1848.
greater than its width, as it is hemmed in between the
Jelam on the south and a lake on the north. The principal part of the town is
on the north side of the Jelam, but a large suburb occupies the opposite
bank, surrounding the Sher-Garhi, or fortified palace of the ruler of the
country. The streets are in general so narrow, that there are but few through
which an elephant can pass; and the houses, which have mostly several
stories, are built with a wooden frame-work, the lower story of stone and
those above of brick. There are no buildings of any great note; and the
elaborate account of Moorcroft renders it unnecessary to enter into any
detail. The river is crossed by many bridges, all built of deodar-wood.
The province or country of Kashmir consists of an
PLAIN OF extensive plain, surrounded on all sides by lofty
KASHMIR.
April, 1848. mountains. It is the valley of the river Behat, or Jelam,
which is separated from that of the Chenab on the
south, by rugged and often snowy ranges, and from the basin of the Indus
on the north, by the main axis of the Western Himalaya, which, originating
in the peaks of Kailas, separates the basins of the Sutlej and the Chenab
from that of the Indus. The mountains which surround the plain of Kashmir
are very lofty. Those on the north are for the most part bare and rugged on
their southern face, while those which lie to the south appear from the plain
to be magnificently wooded with forests of pines and deciduous-leaved
trees, descending almost to their base. On both sides of the valley the
mountains rise above the level of perpetual snow, but those on the north
side are considerably more lofty than the others. Numerous transverse
valleys penetrate into these mountains, which are well cultivated in their
lower parts, and, higher up, present superb mountain scenery. On the south

side of the valley, many passes, varying in elevation from 10,000 to 14,000
feet, lead across the main chain to the Chenab valley and the plains of India.
To the north there are only two frequented routes, that by the Garys pass
towards Hasora and Deotsu, and that by the valley of the Sind river towards
Dras. At the eastern end of the valley a high pass leads across the mountains
to the valley of Wardwan, from which travellers can reach Kargil and the
Indus on the left, and Kishtwar in the valley of the Chenab on the right.
The flat country or alluvial plain of Kashmir, which is 5300 feet above the
sea, is about fifty miles in length, and not more than ten or twelve miles
wide. It commences close to Islamabad, where the last spurs of the
mountains at the east end of the valley disappear; and terminates at
Baramula, where the ranges, branches of the opposite mountain chains,
again advance close to the bank of the river. It is traversed in its whole
length by the river Jelam, which rises at the east end of the valley, and
winds from one side of the plain to the other, at one time washing the base
of the northern hills, at another receding to a considerable distance from
them. The Jelam flows with a tranquil stream, and, being navigable
throughout the whole of the level country as far up as Islamabad, for boats
of considerable burden, is the great highway for the traffic of the country, in
which, notwithstanding its being perfectly level, wheel-carriages are
unknown. At Islamabad it is a very small stream, but it gradually enlarges,
by additions from both sides, as it descends. Near the town of Kashmir it is
from fifty to a hundred yards wide, often very deep, and in few places
fordable, even at the driest season.
The plain of Kashmir has evidently at one time been the
LACUSTRINE bed of a lake, a deposit of fine clayey and sandy strata,
STRATA.
April, 1848. more rarely partially indurated into a soft sandstone
rock, occupying a great part of the surface. Soft pebbly
conglomerate is also occasionally met with, and an indurated conglomerate,
containing water-worn pebbles, occurs in many places in the lower course
of the Sind river. This lacustrine formation forms elevated platforms, which
are from fifty to one hundred and fifty feet or more above the level of the
river. In many places, both on the Jelam and along the lateral streams which
descend from the mountains to join it, the beds of clay have been removed
by aqueous action. In such places the plain has a lower level, often very

little above the surface of the river, and is covered with rice-fields or with
marshy lands, undrained and not under cultivation.
The platforms of lacustrine clay are called, in Kashmir,
LAKE OF "karewah." They are often quite dry, and generally
KASHMIR.
April, 1848. uncultivated, but where water is procurable they are
highly cultivated, yielding luxuriant crops of wheat and
barley. A proper application of artificial irrigation would, I believe, make
the whole of these more elevated parts of the plain fertile, as the soil is
everywhere well adapted for the growth of corn. These karewahs generally
run parallel to the lateral streams which join the Jelam, and extend from the
base of the mountains till they are cut off by the river. There are, however,
in the upper part of the valley, several isolated patches, all horizontally
stratified, from which I infer that they had originally been continuous. One
of these, near Bijbeara, forms a table-topped hill of considerable extent,
surrounded on all sides by low land. Several low hills near Islamabad, also,
are evidently outlying patches of the same formation. The sands and sandy
clays of these platforms are usually quite non-fossiliferous; but I
determined the lacustrine nature of the strata by finding, on the flanks of
Takht-i-Suleiman, a hill near the town of Kashmir, and close to the city
lake, but at least thirty feet above its level, a bed of clay, which contained,
abundantly, shells of the genera Lymnæa and Paludina.
The main chain of the Himalaya, north of Kashmir, consists, where I
crossed it, by the Zoji pass north of Baltal, of metamorphic schist; and all
its branches, which descend towards the plain of Kashmir, seem to be
formed of the same rock. Along the north side of the valley, however, a
series of hills of trap rise, almost isolated, out of the plain. Ahathung, near
the Wulur lake, is, I believe, the most westerly of these, but I did not visit it,
and only infer its structure from its conical shape and from its similarity in
appearance to those further east. Near the town of Kashmir there are two of
these isolated hills, composed of an amygdaloidal trap: these are Hari-
Parbat, which is fortified, and Takht-i-Suleiman, which rises about eight
hundred feet above the plain. The former lies to the north-west, and the
latter on the north-east side of the town.
The lake or Dal of Kashmir lies to the north of the town, stretching from the
base of these two hills to the more lofty mountain range which bounds the

valley on the north. It is nearly circular and four or five miles in diameter,
but is only open in its northern half, the end nearest the town being
occupied by large islands, with narrow channels between them, in some of
which there is a good deal of current. Its waters are discharged into the
Jelam by a considerable stream, which, flowing from its south-east corner,
runs to the westward in a course nearly parallel to the southern margin of
the lake for nearly a mile, when it turns abruptly south to enter the Jelam in
the middle of the town of Kashmir. This stream is evidently an artificial
canal, and the embankment by which it is separated from the lake appears
to have been constructed in order to keep the surface of the latter higher
than it would naturally be. The stream at its point of exit from the lake
flows through a narrow canal of masonry, and has, when the Jelam is low, a
fall of several feet. A pair of flood-gates prevent the return of the stream in
times of flood, when the waters of the river are higher than those of the
lake.
The Wulur lake, below the junction of the Sind river with the Jelam,
appears to be similar in appearance to that close to the town, and, like it, to
owe its extent in part to artificial means. Its dimensions are, however, much
greater. There are several large marshy tracts in different parts of the plain,
which, by a little engineering, might also be converted into lakes: one in
particular, near Avantipura, is quite under water in spring, though in
summer and autumn it is only a swamp.
The climate of Kashmir is the same as that of the
CLIMATE OF interior valleys of the Himalaya, but modified by its
KASHMIR.
April, 1848. extreme western position, which brings it within the
influence of the spring rains which prevail in
Affghanistan and the countries on the lower mountain course of the Indus.
There are at least four months of winter; and in general a good deal of snow
falls. March and April are very rainy; the summer months mostly dry and
fine. The periodical rains of India cannot be said to extend into Kashmir;
but in July and August showers and thunder-storms are said to be frequent.
The spring and autumn are unhealthy seasons. In the former, the cold rainy
weather affects those who have already suffered from the malaria produced
by the action of a powerful sun on neglected swamps. The abandonment of
cultivation, in consequence of the long oppression of the country under a
foreign government, has been the cause of the increase of marshy ground.

The river in seasons of flood rises higher than the level of the lowest
portion of the alluvial land, and is only excluded (as in Holland) by means
of artificial works along the course of the river. By the omission to repair
these bunds, or dykes, a large extent of country which might be under
cultivation is left in a state of swamp.
There is no natural forest on any part of the open plain
VEGETATION OF of Kashmir, and the cultivated trees are not numerous;
KASHMIR.
April, 1848. the plane, poplar, and willow are all common, with
numerous fruit-trees, chiefly walnuts, apples, apricots,
cherries, and quinces. A mulberry is also common, the dried specimens of
which are in no way distinguishable from those of the common white
mulberry of Europe, with which I have compared it. The vines are trained
up the poplar-trees, rising to their very tops, and hanging down from their
summits. A species of Celtis, which is commonly planted around the town,
is, I think, the most tropical of all the Kashmirian trees, being common in
the warmer valleys of the outer Himalayas; it is, however, I think, Celtis
australis, L., a species which is a native of western Asia and eastern
Europe, and appears to find its eastern limit in the Himalaya.
At the time of my arrival in Kashmir, the fruit-trees were in full blossom;
the wild vegetation had, however, made very little progress, only the
earliest plants being in flower. The spring flora was eminently European in
character; not only the genera, but many of the species, being identical with
those of our own island. Cruciferæ were the most abundant natural order;
and, among many others, I collected Draba verna, Capsella, Erysimum,
Alliaria, Turritis glabra, and European species of Lepidium, Thlaspi,
Alyssum, and Sisymbrium. Other common forms were Lycopsis arvensis,
Lithospermum arvense, Myosotis collina, Scandix Pecten, Ranunculus
Philonotis, Anagallis arvensis, Euphorbia Helioscopia, and several species
of Veronica. None of the annual plants were Indian forms, though a few of
them were such as occur commonly in the plains in the cold season. The
shrubby vegetation was very limited: a Juniper (J. communis), a
Cotoneaster, Rubus, Rosa Webbiana, Zizyphus, Elæagnus, Daphne, and two
species of Berberis, were the most common. A few straggling trees of Pinus
excelsa, which grew on the northern face of the low hill called Solomon's
Throne, were the only pines which I saw in any part of the open valley.

CHAPTER X.
Environs of Kashmir—City lake—Gardens of Shalimar and Dilawer Khan—Pampur—Avantipura—
Platforms of lacustrine clay—Mountain of Wasterwan—Ancient city—Clay, with shells and
fragments of pottery—Ancient temple imbedded in clay—Lakes caused by subsidence—
Islamabad—Shahabad—Vegetation—Vernag—Banahal Pass—Valley of Banahal—Tropical
vegetation—Pass above Chenab Valley—Nasmon—Jhula, or Swing-bridge—Balota—Ladhe ke
Dhar—Katti—Fort of Landar—Mir—Kirmichi—Tertiary sandstones—Dhuns—Seda—Jamu.

During my stay in Kashmir, besides the necessary ceremonial of
complimentary visits, my chief occupation was visiting the principal places
in the vicinity. From my residence in the Sheikh Bagh I had easy access to
the river, as well as to the canal by which it communicates with the lake. A
broad road, three-quarters of a mile in length, shaded on both sides by very
fine poplar-trees, runs from the eastern end of the town, parallel to this
canal, as far as the hill called the Takht, at the foot of which is situated the
passage by which the lake discharges its waters into the canal. The weather
was very favourable, the spring rains having terminated a day or two before
my arrival. The Kashmiris are accomplished boatmen, a great part of the
population living upon the water; and as most of the conspicuous objects
around the town are only accessible by water, I gave pretty constant
employment to a boat's crew whom I hired during my stay.
My first visit was to the lake, and to the celebrated
LAKE OF gardens on its northern shore, which were the delight of
KASHMIR.
April, 1848. the emperors who made Kashmir their retreat from the
heat and cares of Delhi and Lahore. The southern part
of the lake is very shallow, and I sailed along narrow channels, which
separated large patches of tall reeds, among which a very narrow-leaved
Typha and an Arundo were the commonest plants. Three or four species of
Potamogeton were abundant in the lake, just coming into flower, but most
of the water-plants were only beginning to vegetate. I saw three or four
flowers of a water-lily (Nymphæa alba), and could just recognize Villarsia
nymphæoides, Menyanthes trifoliata, and Trapa, all of which had been
recorded by previous travellers as natives of Kashmir. I looked anxiously
for Nelumbium, but saw no signs of it, except the withered capsules of the
previous year, many of which I observed floating on the lake.

The gardens of Shalimar and of Dilawer Khan rise in a
GARDENS OF succession of terraces from the margin of the lake. They
KASHMIR.
April, 1848. are laid out in a stiff formal style, straight walks
crossing one another at right angles, and are irrigated
by means of straight water-courses, branching from a long canal which
passes down the centre, through a succession of ponds well built in
masonry, and provided with artificial fountains, which are made to play on
festivals and holidays. Pavilions of fine marble occupy the intersections of
the principal walks. Magnificent plane-trees form the chief ornament of
these gardens, which are now much neglected; straggling bushes and a
wilderness of weeds occupying all the less conspicuous parts, while the
main avenues alone are kept a little neat.
Although the chief beauty of the valley of Kashmir is undoubtedly the
magnificent girdle of snowy mountains by which it is surrounded, the
orchards and gardens, which are still numerous in the neighbourhood of the
capital, are charming spots, and the more so from the contrast which they
present with the barrenness of the surrounding country, and the absolute
ugliness of the swamps in the centre of the valley. Nor should it be
forgotten, when we compare the accounts given by early travellers with the
impressions made upon us by the present appearance of the valley, that
Kashmir is no longer in the same state as it was in the days of the emperors;
a long continuance of misrule, under a succession of governors, whose only
interest it has been to extract as much revenue as possible from the
unfortunate inhabitants, having produced the only conceivable result, in
abandoned cultivation, a diminished revenue, and an impoverished people.
On the 2nd of May I left the town of Kashmir, taking the route by the
Banahal pass, towards Jamu and the plains of India. As my road lay for
several days' journey along the course of the Jelam (or Behat, as it is always
called in Kashmir), I engaged boats for the transport of my servants and
baggage as far as Islamabad, travelling myself, however, generally by land
and on foot, in order to see the country. My first halting-place was Pampur,
seven miles from the town of Kashmir. After traversing the magnificent
avenue of poplars, which runs north-west from the town, the road winds
round the base of the Takht, the eastern face of which is only separated
from the Jelam by a low swampy tract, a few hundred yards in breadth. East
of the Takht a succession of rugged trap hills skirt the road, but beyond

these the more distant mountains are evidently stratified. The road was
grassy and quite level, and passed through much cultivation, the young
wheat and barley being dripping with a heavy dew which had fallen during
the night. A scarlet poppy and Adonis were common weeds among the corn.
Next day I travelled to Avantipura, seven miles further.
AVANTIPURA. The lacustrine formations, which had made their
May, 1848.
appearance on the bank of the river a little west of
Pampur, continued to occur more or less constantly as we proceeded
eastward, and the road traversed for some miles an elevated plain, quite
bare of trees, and only partially cultivated, while the remainder was covered
with grass. The surface of this plain was eroded by wide transverse valleys,
formed by little streams which ran towards the Jelam: these were flat, and
well cultivated, some of the wheat being already in ear. On the highest parts
of the platform the cultivation of saffron is carried on, in beds four or five
feet square, separated by deep ditches or furrows from one another. The
plant, which flowers in autumn, was now in full leaf.
Behind Avantipura lies a high mountain, called
ASCENT OF Wasterwan, rising to a height of 10,000 feet above the
WASTERWAN.
May, 1848. sea by the determination of Jacquemont, or 4700 feet
above the plain. It projects forward in an almost
isolated manner, though it is connected by a narrow ridge behind with the
general mass of the range on the north side of the valley. On the 4th of May
I ascended to the summit of this mountain, which I found to be entirely
formed of trap, partly homogeneous, and partly amygdaloidal. Several
gigantic Umbelliferæ, already in full flower, were abundant in the lower
parts of the open valley by which I ascended. One of these was Prangos
pabularia, which formed dense thickets four or five feet high. From this
open valley I got upon a sharp ridge, grassy below but very rocky above,
along which I proceeded almost to the top; but being stopped by a
precipice, I was obliged to enter a narrow rocky ravine, by ascending which
I managed to gain the summit, which was grassy and rounded, and covered
with a few patches of snow. On the northern face of the hill snow still lay in
great quantity. The view from the top was very fine, the day being in every
respect favourable: the greater part of the valley of Kashmir was seen
spread out far below, and a complete circle of snowy mountains bounded
the horizon. The mountains to the north were seen to be distinctly stratified.

The commonest plants on the ascent were a beautiful rose-coloured
Oxytropis, and a tulip (T. stellata), the flowers of which, when fully
expanded, spread out like a star. A few trees of Pinus excelsa were seen on
the upper part of the ridge; and in a hollow close to the top there were about
a dozen yew-trees. On the summit, though the vegetation was not generally
alpine, most of the plants of the middle zone extending to the very top,
there were many pretty little spring flowers, which did not extend far down.
A Primula, Pedicularis, Gentiana, Leontopodium, Corydalis, and
Callianthemum, were all in flower. On the northern slope of the mountain, a
wood of deciduous trees, still bare of leaves, commenced a few yards below
the summit. At first the trees were all birch, but lower down a cherry and
maple were mixed with it; the former with young leaves, and just-formed
racemes; the latter only recognizable by the last year's leaves, which
strewed the ground. A few horse-chesnut trees were also seen near the top.
The neighbourhood of the village of Avantipura is one
ANCIENT CITY OF of the most interesting places in which the lacustrine
AVANTIPURA.
May, 1848. strata of the Kashmir valley can be studied, as there is
distinct evidence of the existence in that place of
deposits much more recent than those which extend over the whole plain,
and which were therefore formed when the valley was occupied by a large
lake. Avantipura was formerly the site of a very large town, the capital, I
believe, of the kingdom; built in the shape of an amphitheatre in a deep
semicircular bay, enclosed by two low spurs, which project from the
mountain Wasterwan, which rises immediately behind.
The ruins of the ancient town are still visible, consisting of heaps of stones,
some of immense size, indicative of large buildings, but none of them
showing the slightest traces by which the shape or structure of the edifices
could be determined. These ruins extend all round the deep recess in the
mountains, and terminate below quite abruptly, without any apparent cause,
in a perfectly horizontal line along the mountain-side. The mountain behind
is an isolated peak, furrowed by numerous ravines, which are dry except
immediately after rain. The place would therefore appear singularly
inappropriate as the site of a large city, were there not, I think, sufficient
evidence that a lake existed in front of the town, the surface of which was
on a level with the horizontal line by which the ruins are abruptly
terminated.

The ruins of the ancient city stand upon the lacustrine
CLAY, WITH clay of the Kashmir plain, and are therefore posterior in
BROKEN POTTERY.
May, 1848. age to the period when the valley was occupied by one
large lake. Immediately in front of the ancient ruins,
between them and the small modern village of Avantipura, which is situated
on the banks of the Jelam, there occur beds of fine brown-coloured clay,
containing in great quantity fragments of pottery, with here and there small
pieces of charcoal and bone. In one place on the bank of a small ravine,
which then probably carried a streamlet into the lake, I found the clay to
contain, mixed with the broken pottery, numerous shells, some fresh-water
and some land species, and all the same as are common at the present day in
the river Jelam, or on the grassy hill-sides in the valley. The place where
these shells occur is fifty or sixty feet above the river.
The appearance of this evidently very modern deposit is exactly that which
would no doubt be exhibited, were the present lake close to the city of
Kashmir dried up, and a section of its bed exposed. This lake contains
abundance of shells, and in the neighbourhood of the town it is made the
receptacle of refuse of every kind, broken pottery being particularly
plentiful. In shallow places in the river, close to the town of Bijbehara, a
similar deposit is accumulating, valves of a Cyrena being found to some
depth in the fine mud, mixed with broken pots, charcoal, bones, and other
refuse.
The most remarkable fact connected with this very
TEMPLE recent lacustrine deposit is, that the ruins of an ancient
IMBEDDED. IN
LACUSTRINE temple exist on the plain above the Jelam, a little west
CLAY. of the modern village, partially buried in the clay. The
May, 1848.
upper parts of two temples, resembling in all respects
the ruins on the elevated platform at Martand, near
Islamabad, stand on the open plain, not far from the river, but perhaps
twenty feet above its level, and certainly far below the level to which the
clay containing pottery rises on the hill-sides. One of the temples is quite in
ruins, the immense blocks of which it is built being piled confusedly on one
another. The beautiful colonnade (exactly like that at Martand) by which it
is surrounded, is evidently quite uninjured in any way; but it is entirely
buried under the lacustrine clay, except a very small portion, consisting of
three pillars, which were exposed by Major Cunningham in 1847. These

three pillars may be seen in a cavity under the level of the present surface of
the ground, and the clay in which they were imbedded contains fragments
of pottery in profusion.
If these temples (the date of which I believe is approximately known to
antiquarians) were contemporaneous with the ancient town, they must have
been buried in the lacustrine silt at some period not very long subsequent to
their erection, if I am right in supposing a lake to have existed at the same
time with the town. Probably, therefore, they are anterior in age to the town,
as they are imbedded in such masses of pottery as could only have been
accumulated in the neighbourhood of a very dense population. Their present
appearance, I think, helps to explain the nature and origin of the many lakes
or marshy depressions which occur in all parts of the valley. It appears
evident that at Avantipura, at some period subsequent to the building of the
temples, a subsidence of the ground must have taken place during one of
the many earthquakes which are well known to have convulsed the Kashmir
valley. This subsidence, which must have been partial, and not co-extensive
with the valley, converted the ground on which the temples stood into a
lake. A fresh subsidence, or the gradual wearing away of the incoherent clay
strata lower down the river, must at last have drained the little lake, and left
the country round Avantipura in the state in which we now see it. Even now
a marsh partly under water during the spring months extends from
Avantipura for several miles up the river.
The occurrence of repeated partial subsidences in various parts of the
Kashmir plain appears to me the only way in which the general appearance
of the country can be explained. The abrupt, broad, and shallow depressions
between the different platforms are seemingly much too extensive to have
been formed by the trifling streamlets which now run along them, without
the assistance of volcanic action. The lakes, too, are deeper than the present
level of the river, a circumstance only explicable in an alluvial country on
some such supposition; and as it is well known that violent earthquakes
have at intervals convulsed this valley for many centuries, this mode of
explaining the phenomena becomes highly probable.
On the 5th of May I continued my journey to
BIJBEHARA. Islamabad, which is about eleven miles from
May, 1848.
Avantipura. The peak of Wasterwan is the termination

of a long mountain ridge, which separates two large
ISLAMABAD. valleys from one another. Immediately to the eastward,
May, 1848.
therefore, the mountains recede from the river, and the
road traverses a marshy tract, a great part of which, from the late heavy
rains, was still under water, while the remainder was laid out in fields,
prepared for the cultivation of rice. Further on, cliffs of lacustrine clay again
rose perpendicularly from the river. Several streams joined the Jelam from
both sides, some of them deep and sluggish, with straight banks like canals,
while others were almost as large as the main stream, and broad and
shallow, with a sandy bed and gently flowing current. Near Bijbehara, a
considerable village, with many timber-built houses and a substantial bridge
of deodar, the banks are beautifully wooded with shady trees. Above this
village the Jelam is much smaller, often shallow, and the banks lower,
though still eight or ten feet above the water, and not swampy, but either
fringed with willow and mulberry trees, or bare and covered with fields of
green corn, or of rape now in full flower. The bridge of Islamabad, which is
the limit of navigation, is nearly a mile from the town, which is a
considerable place, the next in importance to the capital, though very much
smaller. It lies on low ground close by the river, but immediately behind it a
long promontory of the lacustrine formation stretches back for several
miles, rising abruptly out of the finely cultivated and well-wooded valley on
the left, in steep, rugged cliffs, which are worn into irregular ravines by the
action of rain. These formations attain here a thickness of at least 150 feet,
and well deserve the particular attention of the geologist. The ancient
temple of Martand, the most perfect of its class of ruins in the valley, is
built on the upper and back part of this platform.
Leaving Islamabad, I crossed immediately one branch of the Jelam, which
descends from the west. It had already lost the tranquil character of the
stream lower down. There were pebbles in its bed, and it had a more rapid
current. After crossing this stream, the country was for some distance quite
flat, and entirely covered with rice-fields, now bare; some of them had been
ploughed, but most were still just as they had been left after harvest. They
were traversed by numerous ditches or canals for irrigation, in all of which
a proportion of fresh-water shells, chiefly Lymnææ, were seen. Further on,
the appearance of the country began to change: there were still plenty of
rice-fields, but they rose in steps one above another, and the water in the

irrigation canals flowed rapidly over pebbly beds. Crossing another branch
of the Jelam, which had a broad channel full of large boulders, but shallow
and easily fordable, the road began gradually to ascend a low range of hills
covered with grass and bushes where it was dry, but still laid out in rice-
fields wherever water was procurable. These hills, which are the
termination of a long range which descends from the snow-clad mountains
at the east end of the valley, are composed of a very hard limestone, the
strata of which are much bent, sinuated, and fractured. On the south side of
this ridge is the valley of Shahabad, which is watered by the principal
branch of the Jelam. It contains numerous villages, surrounded with fine
orchards, and its rice-fields are arranged in terraces. Water being plentiful,
the whole valley is cultivated with rice, and the district appears to be one of
the richest in Kashmir.
The general character of the vegetation continues the
SHAHABAD. same as further west, and the more advanced season
May, 1848.
enabled me to recognize a few common Himalayan
plants. The scandent white rose (R. Brunonis) was one of these, also
Lonicera diversifolia and a shrubby Indigofera. I also observed Viola
serpens, Thymus Serpyllum, Lactuca dissecta, and Fragaria Indica. Among
the rice-fields several plains plants occurred, such as Potentilla supina,
Convolvulus arvensis, Mazus rugosus, Salvia plebeia, and Marsilea
quadrifolia. Nor were the plants of a Tibetan climate altogether wanting, for
Rosa Webbiana was everywhere common, and a species of Myricaria grew
plentifully among the boulders on the banks of all the streams.
From Shahabad I made, on the 7th, a short march to
FOUNTAIN OF Vernag, a celebrated fountain near the bottom of the
VERNAG.
May, 1848. Banahal pass. Crossing the river, the road lay up the
open valley of the Jelam, still among rice-fields, rising
step by step behind one another, as the valley sloped upwards. Vernag lies
close to the mouth of a little lateral valley, up which our further course lay.
The fountain, which is built of marble, is large, contains many fish, and
supplies a considerable stream. It is the reputed source of the Behat or
Jelam, but the main branch of that river descends from the mountains a
good way further to the south-west. The hills on both sides of the Shahabad
valley are of limestone, the strike of which seemed to be west-south-west,
or nearly in the direction of the valley. It is very much indurated, and its

colour is bluish-grey; it has all the appearance of having been much altered
by heat. The dip appeared different on the opposite sides of the valley: on
the north it was east of north, on the other side southerly; the inclination of
the beds varied much, and they were often very much distorted. I did not
see any eruption of igneous rock on any part of the day's journey.
On the hills above Vernag there was a good deal of brushwood, consisting
chiefly of Fothergilla involucrata, two species of Viburnum, Cotoneaster,
Lonicera, and a few trees of Pinus excelsa, yew, and deodar. The opposite
hills were bare and grassy. In the forests of Kashmir (as was first pointed
out by Dr. Falconer) we do not find the oak, Andromeda, and
Rhododendron, which are so abundant at similar elevations in the outer
Himalaya. The appearance of the woods is, therefore, remarkably different,
as these trees, which, in the temperate zone of the mountains near the
plains, constitute almost all the forest, give the woods there a peculiar
character.
On the 8th of May I passed from the valley of Kashmir
BANAHAL PASS. into the basin of the Chenab, crossing the Banahal pass,
May, 1848.
the summit of which is not more than 10,000 feet above
the sea: it is a very narrow ridge, separating two deep valleys. Starting
through rice-fields, and passing at the upper limit of cultivation a few fields
of barley and rape, I soon entered brushwood, the same as on the hills
above Vernag. In the ravines on the left hand, snow descended below 7000
feet. Ascending rapidly on a ridge, the brushwood gave place to a fine wood
of maple, horse-chesnut, cherry, hazel, and elm, all just bursting into leaf.
The dip of the limestone rocks was exceedingly variable, at one time
southerly, at another northerly, but the strike was, I believe, the same as the
day before. The ascent continuing rapid, the shady side of the ridge was
soon covered with snow; but the road kept on the southern exposure, which
was sometimes bare of forest. Birch at last appeared among the other trees,
and, as the elevation increased, it began to predominate. About the same
time, the limestone gave place to a slaty rock, which was almost
immediately followed by an amygdaloid, which continued to the summit.
Both the slate and the limestone appeared to have been upheaved by the
igneous rock, and I thought the slate seemed inferior to the limestone.

On the upper part of the ascent the birch gradually became more and more
stunted; it was here almost the only tree, with the exception of a few
specimens of Picea Webbiana, at the limit of forest a little below the
summit. Here the hills were bare and rocky; but the forest did not cease on
account of elevation, because on the opposite hill, which had a northern
exposure, a shady wood, chiefly consisting of pines, rose to a level
considerably higher than that of the pass, which was a depression in the
ridge, considerably overtopped by the hills on both sides. The crest of the
pass was undulating, and covered with green-sward, among which a few
spring plants were in flower; these were a Corydalis, an Anemone, and
Primula denticulata. A large patch of snow occupied the northern slope, just
below the top.
The view from the summit would have been magnificent had the day been
more favourable; but a thick haze rested over the more distant parts of the
valley of Kashmir, as well as over the southern mountains in the direction
of the plains of India. The southern slope of the range on which I stood was
bare, scarcely even a bush being visible; and the Banahal valley, nearly four
thousand feet below, appeared as a perfectly level plain, covered with rice-
fields and scattered villages, marked by groves of trees. On the descent I
followed a very steep rocky ridge. About half-way down, the amygdaloid
was replaced by metamorphic slate, and for the remainder of the descent the
rocks were alternations of slate, very hard conglomerate, and quartz rock.
The dip of these strata was very variable, and on the face of several spurs, at
a little distance, sections were exposed, exhibiting enormous flexures. I saw
no limestone on the southern face of the pass, except in the valley of
Banahal, where there was a good deal of a horizontally stratified limestone,
very different in appearance from that on the other side, which, as it was
confined to the bottom of the valley, and was there very local, appeared to
be of much more recent origin.
After joining the Banahal river, the descent became
BANAHAL more gradual. At first, the valley was almost level and
VALLEY.
May, 1848. quite covered with rice-fields, all under water. The
villagers were busy ploughing, both bullocks and men
knee-deep in soft mud. Further on, the valley contracted, and cultivation
only occurred at intervals. In the narrower parts, the stream was fringed
with trees, but the hill-sides were still quite bare. Round the villages there

were very fine trees, chiefly walnut, horse-chesnut, and elms, with the
ordinary fruit-trees; but the plane and black poplar do not occur, nor are any
vines cultivated in the valley. The winter is said to be quite as severe as in
Kashmir; and the elevation, so far as I could determine it by the boiling-
point of water, is a little greater, the lower villages (in one of which I
encamped) being about 5500 feet, while the highest fields are about 6000
feet. In the woods, Fothergilla, cherry, sycamore, and horse-chesnut were
common, just as in Kashmir. The season was much further advanced than
on the north side of the pass, all these trees being fully in leaf, and the
horse-chesnut in flower. The greater part of the vegetation was identical
with that of Kashmir, but I saw many more species, probably only from the
more advanced state of the season. The Zizyphus and rose (R. Webbiana) of
Kashmir were still common, and the white poplar was wild along the banks
of the stream. I did not, however, see Daphne or Myricaria. In shady lateral
ravines an oak was frequent, the more interesting as I had seen none in
Kashmir; it was Q. floribunda, a species of the middle zone of the outer
Himalaya, which usually occurs at higher levels than Q. incana, and lower
than Q. semecarpifolia.
Though the river of Banahal is a tributary of the Chenab, yet the district has
always been considered as a dependency of Kashmir, from which it is only
a short day's journey distant, while for several days in descending towards
the Chenab, the country is almost uninhabited. Halting one day at Banahal
to change my porters, I made three marches to Nasmon, on the right bank of
the Chenab, following the course of the Banahal river during the first and
part of the second march, but afterwards leaving it, on account of its
increasing ruggedness, to cross the range on the left hand by a pass about
8000 feet above the sea, which overhangs the valley of the Chenab. The
bounding spurs which hem in the Banahal valley descend almost
perpendicularly upon the Chenab, and dip at last very abruptly to that river.
At first, large masses of snow were visible at the sources of all the lateral
valleys, but lower down the elevation was not sufficient, and the hills were
bare. After leaving the last village of Banahal, the bottom of the valley was
for some time level and covered with fine forest, consisting chiefly of
magnificent trees of Celtis, elm, and alder; the others were two species of
Acer, Fraxinus, Morus, Populus ciliata, and a willow. Fothergilla now
grew to a small tree, and Marlea made its appearance, the first indication of

an approach to a hot climate. Soon, the banks of the river became rocky,
and left no passage, so that the road ascended on the right bank, and lay at a
considerable elevation on the hill-sides, looking down upon a richly
wooded and often rocky glen. The hills were steep and generally bare, but
the ravines were often well wooded. Pinus excelsa occurred occasionally;
Quercus floribunda was common, and Q. lanata made its appearance.
Before leaving the Banahal river, I had got down to about 4000 feet,
meeting latterly with some familiar plants of the warmer zone: Pinus
longifolia formed dry woods, Cedrela Toona, a fig, Albizzia mollis, and last
of all, Dalbergia Sissoo. Still, most of the plants of the upper part of the
valley accompanied me throughout; even the hoary oak had not
disappeared, and the general appearance of the vegetation was very
different from what it would have been at the same elevation further east,
the plants of a hot climate being chiefly such as delight in a dry heat, and
are capable of enduring a considerable amount of winter cold, provided the
summer temperature be sufficiently elevated. It was evident that the
temperature was considerably lower than it would have been at the same
height in the Sutlej valley, and I drew the same inference with regard to the
humidity, from the appearance of a number of dry-climate plants; for
instance, a yellow spinous Astragalus, a Dianthus, and Eremurus, an
Asphodeleous genus common in Kunawar, and other dry valleys of the
Himalaya.
In the ascent of the lateral ravine, towards the pass
PASS ABOVE above Nasmon, I encountered, for the first time,
NASMON.
May, 1848. Rhododendron arboreum and Andromeda ovalifolia, the
two trees which, with the hoary oak, form the mass of
the Simla woods. The forest was now very fine, as I was on the northern
slope of the range. On the upper part of the ridge by which I ascended, there
was a grove of fine deodar-trees, and in the bottom of the dell a shady wood
of horse-chesnut and sycamore. I had now entered a zone in which the flora
was quite similar to that of Simla; Fothergilla being the only tree I
observed, which is not common in that district. And it was curious that it
was on the northern and most shady, as well as most humid exposure, that
this identity of flora became first remarkable, and that the same trees which
at Simla form the forests of the drier slopes and more exposed situations,
grew in this valley low down on the hill-sides, in the most sheltered spots.