Chapter XIV (2)

Before leaving Sassar, I visited the glaciers which descend into the valley of the Shayuk, a little to the north of that place. The path at first lay along the high platform on which I was encamped, which was precipitous towards the Shayuk; it afterwards descended to the level of the river, close to which I travelled for some distance over enormous boulders. The bluff ends of two glaciers were seen high above at the top of the precipitous alluvial bank, and after a walk of upwards of three miles, I arrived at a most superb glacier, which, descending a broad and deep valley in the mountains, and latterly in the alluvial platform, entered the bed of the Shayuk at the bottom of a deep bend, and fairly crossed the river, which flowed out below the ice. On the opposite side of the river, the mountains were precipitous a few hundred feet from the water's edge, but the stream of ice did not extend to the foot of the precipice, but stopped a very few feet up the opposite bank. I could of course only see the position of the ice at the edge of the glacier: how far it extended in the centre I could not tell.

The glacier was extremely rugged, being covered with huge sharp pinnacles of ice, and I was obliged to ascend a long way parallel to its side before I could find a place where it could be crossed. Near its lower extremity it rose high above the surface of the plain, and sloped rapidly down to the river: its sides were there scarped and inaccessible, but higher up it lay in a deep hollow in the alluvial conglomerate. A moment's reflection showed how impossible it was for clay and boulders to resist the friction of such an enormous mass; still I was much pleased to observe the glacier buried, as it were, in a groove of its own forming, from the light which was thereby thrown on the origin of the many broad, shallow, flat-bottomed valleys which occasionally occur in the modern alluvial and lacustrine formations in all parts of Tibet, as for instance at Karsar in Nubra, and at Bazgo below Le. An ancient moraine, deposited at a period when the glacier must have been much more bulky than it now is, skirted the edge of the high bank of alluvium, and prevented the ice from being seen till close at hand, and then only by mounting on the top of the pile of boulders. Down this moraine, which on the face towards the glacier was extremely steep and perhaps sixty feet high, I descended to the surface of the present moraine. The descent required great caution, many of the blocks being loose and easily displaced. When I had reached the surface of the glacier, the passage was not difficult. About a quarter of its width on each side was occupied by blocks of stone; the centre was almost entirely ice, extremely irregular, and here and there a little fissured. The pathway, which was only marked by the footsteps of two men whom I had sent the day before to select a place for crossing, at one time ascended to the top of a ridge of ice, at another descended into a deep hollow. At the time I crossed (about eleven A.M.) numerous streams of water had begun to flow in furrows on the surface of the ice. The whole width was close upon half a mile, and on the north side I ascended a steep moraine similar to that which I had previously descended.

From the top of the bank on which the moraine rested, a second glacier came in sight at the distance of a mile. My exploring party reported that they had been unable to find a point at which this glacier could be crossed, and as from the appearance of the mountains behind I felt certain that after crossing it I should only arrive at a third, I did not long persevere in trying to find a passage, but descended to its extremity in order to see whether or not I could walk round it, as it did not appear to enter the water. At the bottom of the valley it spread out in a fan-shaped manner to the width of at least a mile; perhaps indeed much more, for as I failed in getting round it, I was unable to ascertain precisely. At its south-east corner, where it was nearly a hundred yards from the river, a considerable stream, white with suspended mud, was rushing out from beneath an arched vault of ice, even before sunrise. To avoid fording this icy stream, the margins of which were thickly frozen, I crossed with a good deal of difficulty an angle of the end of the glacier. On its surface I found several small moraines, which had sunk down into grooves ten or fifteen feet deep, and had therefore been invisible from outside. Further progress on the ice was stopped by cliffs which were not accessible without ladders, so that I had to descend to the bank of the Shayuk. I walked along between the ice and the river, till my advance was stopped by the glacier fairly projecting into the water in such a manner that I could not see anything of what lay beyond. The icy wall being quite inaccessible, I could not get upon the surface of the glacier to attempt to advance in that way, nor could I ford the river, which was very deep.

The terminal cliff of the glacier varied in height from fifteen to thirty feet, and a talus of large stones lay in front, evidently deposited by it. Indeed, while I was there I saw several small stones which projected from the face of the cliff, drop out by the melting of the ice in which they were imbedded. Many cavities were seen in the ice, from which large stones must have dropped out no longer ago than the day before, and the stones which corresponded in size to them were seen lying close at hand. Before I left the front of the glacier, the heat of the sun having become considerable, rapid thaw had commenced; rills of water trickled down its face in every direction, and the sound of falling stones was to be heard on all sides. Now and then a report as loud as that of a cannon was heard, caused, as I supposed, by the fall of a very large boulder from one of the smaller glaciers, which stopped abruptly at the top of the high cliff of alluvium.

Before quitting finally these magnificent glaciers, I ascended to a height on the mountain-side in order to see whether or not there was any lake in sight corresponding to that laid down, from information, by Mr. Vigne as Nubra or Khundan Chu. The mountains were very steep and stony, and were covered above 16,000 feet with snow, which had fallen in a storm a few days before; I did not, therefore, get up to any great elevation, probably not beyond 16,500 feet, but at that height I could see nothing of the river beyond the second glacier, though its course through the mountains could be traced distinctly enough. It is, however, highly improbable that any permanent lake exists. Such could, I think, only be formed by the stoppage of the river by a glacier, an obstruction which could only be temporary, and would inevitably be followed by a terrific inundation, such as is known repeatedly to have devastated the valley of the Shayuk.

[Sidenote: RETURN TO LE.
_August, 1848._]

It had been my original intention, on my return from Karakoram, to follow the course of the Shayuk all the way from Sassar to Nubra, but on my return to the former place after visiting the pass, I found that there was no probability of the road along the river being practicable for at least three weeks, the depth of the stream, which requires frequently to be forded, being still much too great; I was therefore reluctantly compelled to return by the same route as that by which I had reached Sassar. Early in September, I found the crops in Nubra ripe, the barley being mostly cut; buckwheat and a few fields of millet, however, were still quite green. The Shayuk had very considerably diminished in size: one branch which in July had been three feet deep was quite dry on the 6th of September. On the 11th of that month I crossed the pass above Le, the state of which was a good deal altered. The little lake, which on the 20th of July was still frozen over, was now free of ice, nor was there any snow, except a very few small patches, below the steep snow-bank on the northern side. The snow, which had covered this steep descent, had melted away, exposing a mass of ice, which was not crossed without a good deal of difficulty and some little risk. Loaded cattle were unable to get to the top of the pass till the afternoon. The snow on the south face had almost entirely gone.

I reached Le just in time to escape some very unsettled weather, during which snow fell on the mountains down to about 13,000 feet. This was ushered in by very high wind, blowing in gusts from all points of the compass. Heavy clouds formed, but always high: on the 14th there was a good deal of thunder, and during the following night a smart shower of rain, which lasted about an hour.

The inhabitants were busy with the operations of harvest. A coarse knife or rude sickle was employed to cut the wheat and barley as close to the ground as possible; they were then tied into large bundles, each sufficient for one load, which were carried (usually by women) to the threshing-floors, not without considerable loss, from the ripeness of the ears and the great bulk of the loads, which were rubbed against every obstacle, particularly the narrow walls of the pathways between the fields. The grain was trodden out of the ear by cattle and asses, all muzzled, on small threshing-floors made of clay beaten hard. It was then winnowed, by being gently shaken out of flat vessels held as high as possible above the ground.

On the 15th of September I left Le for Kashmir. For five days my route was the same as that by which I had travelled in July. On the fourth day I reached Kalatze on the Indus, and on the 19th of September I encamped at the village of Lama-Yuru, close to which the road from Zanskar joins that along which I proposed to travel towards Dras. In the valley of the Indus a great part of the vegetation was already destroyed by the night frosts; _Chenopodiaceæ_ were now the most numerous family, and these were rapidly ripening their seeds. In the narrow ravine of the Wandla river, on the ascent to Lama-Yuru, I found a few plants indicative of lower and hotter regions than those in which I had lately been travelling: a little wiry _Lactuca_ with decurrent leaves, a spathulate-leaved _Statice_, and a small _Hyoscyamus_, all plants of the neighbourhood of Iskardo, were those which I noted.

[Sidenote: PHATU PASS.
_September, 1848._]

On the 20th of September I crossed the Phatu pass, stated by Moorcroft to be 14,000 feet above the sea, but which Major Cunningham has ascertained to be only about 13,500 feet. The discrepancy is probably owing to some error in Moorcroft's manuscripts, from which the elevations given in his work were calculated by Professor Wilson. In the neighbourhood of Lama-Yuru lacustrine clay occurs in great abundance, and the ascent to the summit of this pass was gentle, up a gravelly valley, which was full of alluvium, almost to the very summit. The pass did not nearly attain the elevation requisite for alpine vegetation, still the flora was a good deal altered; two large-flowered thistles, _Caragana versicolor_, and several species of _Umbelliferæ_ were observed, none of which had occurred in the hills to the north of the Indus; the prickly _Statice_ was also common, but the _Chenopodiaceæ_ of the Indus valley had entirely disappeared. The descent along the Kanji river to Karbu, at which I encamped, was long and gradual, down a wide valley skirted by gently sloping hills, which, at some distance on the left, rose into high mountains, but on the right attained only a moderate elevation, the Indus being at no great distance. Alluvium occurred throughout the descent, latterly indurated into a coarse conglomerate.

[Sidenote: NAMIKA PASS.
_September, 1848._]

From Karbu I marched on the 21st to Molbil, crossing the Namika pass. The previous night had been very threatening, with violent wind, and at daybreak all the hills around were covered with snow; it was still snowing slightly, but none lay in the valley, and before nine o'clock it cleared, and the remainder of the forenoon was tolerably fine. For two miles I followed the banks of the Kanji river; afterwards the road turned to the left to ascend a clayey valley, to the rounded summit of a ridge separating that river from the Pashkyum on the left. The pass has been determined by Major Cunningham, who crossed it in October, 1847, to be 12,900 feet above the sea. The descent was long, but not rapid after the first mile. The upper part was desert, but lower down villages were frequent and cultivation extensive. At first the rocks were clay-slate, but these were replaced in the lower part by a hard limestone; alluvium was everywhere plentiful, forming, near Molbil, table-topped platforms of indurated conglomerate, horizontally stratified, and faced towards the stream by scarped cliffs. The afternoon was again stormy, and a good deal of rain fell during the night.

[Sidenote: PASHKYUM.
_September, 1848._]

Next day I made a long march to Pashkyum, following the course of the river of that name. The descent was very gradual, and the road varied much in character, the valley being sometimes open, at other times narrow and rocky. The villages increased in numbers as the elevation diminished, and latterly for several miles cultivation was continuous. Pashkyum is not more than 8600 feet above the sea, and accordingly the season was much less advanced than it had been three and four thousand feet higher, the weather being much milder, and the summer heat no doubt much more considerable than in the neighbourhood of Le. The crops had long been cut, except the buckwheat, the fields of which were however quite ripe; the plants were being plucked up by the roots and laid down separately in the fields to dry, previous to removal to the threshing-floor.

A remarkable change had taken place in the appearance of the country during this day's journey. The banks of the river were frequently shaded with immense willows, and the trees of the cultivated lands were numerous and of great size. Many new forms of plants were also seen, though the general character of the flora was unaltered. Shrubby _Artemisiæ_ were extremely plentiful, and the _Perowskia_, _Ballota_, _Echinops_, and _Iris_ of the Indus valley were very abundant. The new plants were all species of Kashmir or Iskardo, such as _Verbascum Thapsus_, _Lappa_, _Valeriana_, _Swertia_, and _Gentiana Moorcroftiana_. _Trifolium repens_ and _fragiferum_ grew in the pastures close to the river, and tropical species of _Setaria_ and _Amaranthus_ were common weeds in the corn-fields.

[Sidenote: SINGULAR SANDSTONE FORMATION.
_September, 1848._]

In the immediate neighbourhood of Pashkyum the rocks consist of coarse-grained grey or white sandstones, often containing small water-worn pebbles, and alternating with dark crumbling pyritiferous shales. These rocks, which dip to the east or south-east, at an angle of not more than 15°, rise on the north side of the valley to the summit of a long sloping ridge, which appears to overhang the Indus. As these sandstones and shales contained, so far as I could observe, no fossils, their age is a matter of complete uncertainty. They were quite independent of the modern lacustrine formation, patches of which, perfectly horizontally stratified, and therefore unconformable to the other, were seen in several places resting on the sandstone. These sandstones perhaps reach as far as the Indus, but I was not able to determine how far they extended to the southward, in which direction high and rugged mountains, now covered with snow, skirted the valley at a distance of a few miles.

[Sidenote: KARGIL.
_September, 1848._]

On the 23rd of September, I followed the Pashkyum river to its junction with that of Dras. Crossing, at starting, to the left bank of the river, the road lay for a mile through cultivated lands; it then ascended to a platform of alluvium, which blocked up the valley, while the river disappeared in a narrow ravine far to the right. Five miles from Pashkyum, I descended very abruptly from this elevated plain, to the village of Kargil, where the Pashkyum river is joined by a large stream from Suru, called by Moorcroft the Kartse; which I crossed by a good wooden bridge, close to a small fort, occupied by a Thannadar with a small party of soldiers. The cultivated lands of Kargil, which is elevated about 8300 feet, are extensive and well wooded; but immediately below, the valley becomes narrow and rocky, and continues so for more than a mile, till the stream joins the Dras river. Nearly due south of Kargil the stratified rocks of the mountains are replaced by igneous rocks, and the point of contact of the two is well marked on the precipitous face of a lofty peak. At first the igneous rock was dark and resembling greenstone, but it soon changed to granite, which, as I had observed in April, occurs everywhere in the valley of Dras, below Karbu.

I encamped on the right bank of the Dras river, about a mile above the village of Hardas. Henceforward my route was the same as I had travelled in April. On the 24th I travelled to Tashgong, and on the 25th I arrived at Dras. In most parts of the valley I found a great deal of alluvium, but I saw none of the fine clay which is characteristic of the purely lacustrine strata above the village of Bilergu, where I had observed it in April. Gravelly conglomerate was everywhere the prevailing form,--sometimes indurated, but generally soft and shingly. Most of these deposits were unstratified, but distinct stratification was far from uncommon. The alluvium often capped low hills in the open valley many hundred feet above the bed of the river, and it was observed at frequent intervals in every part of the valley, from the junction of the Pashkyum river to Dras itself.

[Sidenote: ALLUVIUM OF DRAS.
_September, 1848._]

The great extent and remarkable forms of alluvium which I had seen in the district through which I had travelled, between Kalatze and Dras, induced me to note with care the position and composition of the alluvial beds of the Dras valley. The known low elevation of the Zoji pass, between Dras and Kashmir, which is only 11,300 feet above the sea, made the great extent and continuity of these deposits very remarkable, and with difficulty explicable, unless on the supposition of the existence of a series of lakes separated from one another by extensive accumulations of alluvium, now to a great extent removed by denudation. The lacustrine clays of lower Dras, about Ulding, appear continuous with those of the Indus valley about Tarkata, but the clays of Pashkyum, which are separated from them by a very thick mass of alluvium, which occupies that part of the Dras and Pashkyum rivers immediately above the junction of the two, may have been deposited in an isolated lake. Further east again, at Lamayuru, there are beds of pure clay as high as the summit of the Zoji pass, so that the alluvial beds of the upper part of the Phatu ridge must have separated the lake in which these were deposited from the more western waters, which (it may be conjectured) at the same time covered the whole of the valley of Molbil and Pashkyum.

The vegetation of Dras was still very Tibetan, but transitional forms were becoming frequent. The _Chenopodiaceæ_ (except _Eurotia_) had all disappeared, but _Artemisiæ_ and _Umbelliferæ_ were very abundant. The new forms were all Kashmirian, and indicated a considerable increase of humidity: a small white-flowered balsam was observed not far from Hardas, and _Prunella_, _Thymus Serpyllum_, an _Achillea_, _Senecio_, _Galium_, and _Silene inflata_ were all seen below the fort of Dras. At that place the harvest was but just over; indeed, a field or two of wheat were still uncut.

[Sidenote: MATEN.
_September, 1848._]

On the 26th of September, I marched to Maten, along a road which, in April, had been entirely covered with deep snow. Part of the road was rocky, but in general the valley was open. During this day's journey, a very great change took place in the vegetation. Hitherto, Kashmirian plants had been the exception, the greater part of the species being Tibetan; to-day the reverse was the case, most of the plants seen being those common in the comparatively moist climate of Kunawar, or species new to me, but belonging to families or genera which inhabit a more humid climate than Tibet. Groves of dwarf willows lined the banks of the stream, and nearly sixty species of plants not observed in Tibet were collected during the day. _Vitis_, _Aconitum_, _Hypericum_, _Vernonia_, a prickly juniper, _Convallaria_, and _Tulipa_, may be selected as illustrative of the greatness of the change, which was particularly interesting from its suddenness. Numerous Tibetan forms no doubt still lingered, but principally such as extend into Kashmir. At Maten the barley was still uncut, notwithstanding that it is upwards of a thousand feet lower than Le, at which place harvest was nearly over at the time of my departure.

[Sidenote: ZOJI PASS.
_September, 1848._]

There can be no doubt that the sudden alteration in the character of the vegetation is due to the great depression in the chain separating Tibet from Kashmir, at the Zoji pass, which is far below the usual level of the lowest parts of these mountains. The access of a great amount of humidity, which would have been condensed if the moisture-bringing winds had been obliged to pass over a lofty chain, makes the autumn partially rainy, and frequently cloudy, thereby diminishing the action of the sun's rays, and lowering the mean temperature of the summer.

On the 27th of September, I crossed the pass of Zoji La, which had now a very different aspect from that which it had presented in April. From Maten the road lay up a wide open valley with a scarcely perceptible ascent, generally along the edge of a small stream, but occasionally on the slope of the hill-sides. The valley was flat and often swampy; but the mountains on both sides, more particularly on the left, were high and abrupt, not unfrequently precipitous. On that side there were in most of the ravines large patches of snow, and in one there was a fine glacier, which stopped abruptly within a hundred yards of the main valley. Latterly a few patches of snow lay even in the open valley. The vegetation was almost entirely Kashmirian, not more than six or seven out of about 110 species being otherwise; the hill-sides were covered with brushwood, at first of willow and prickly juniper, but latterly principally of birch.

Five or six miles from Maten, the main branch of the stream was found to descend from a narrow ravine on the left, at the head of which there was perhaps a glacier. In the valley along which the road lay, there was scarcely any water in the bed of the stream, and about a mile further on, without any increase in the inclination, I came to a large patch of dirty snow, beyond which there was a very evident slope to the southward. The boiling-point of water here indicated an elevation of 11,300 feet. A few hundred yards further, I arrived at a large pond (it could hardly be called a lake), into which a very small rill of water was trickling from the north, while from the opposite end a stream ran towards the south. This little lake was not, as I had expected, on the crest of the pass, but undoubtedly on the Kashmirian side of it.

[Sidenote: BALTAL.
_September, 1848._]

Beyond the lake, the descent became steep, and the valley contracted into a rocky ravine, full of snow, under which the little stream disappeared. The road was at first on the left side of the valley, but crossed on the snow at the commencement of the contracted part, and ascended rather abruptly a steep hill on the right through a very pretty grove of birch. The top of this steep ascent is usually considered by travellers as the pass, and is the place to which the name Zoji La properly belongs. The point of separation of the waters must of course, for geographical purposes, be considered as the actual pass, but this ridge, which, if not actually higher, is at all events on a level with it, and has in addition a steep ascent on both sides, has not unnaturally had that honour assigned to it. On reaching the shoulder of the ridge, the valley of Baltal came in sight, presenting, in the words of Moorcroft, "as if by magic, a striking contrast in its brown mountains and dark forests of tall pines to the bare rocks and few stunted willows to which we had so long been accustomed." The sight of a forest is certainly a great source of gratification to a traveller who has been long in Tibet; but the pleasing effect of the view from the Zoji pass is not owing merely to contrast; as the traveller looks down upon the bed of Sind river, more than 2000 feet below, and the forest in the valley is not too dense, but interspersed with open glades, while beyond rise high mountains tipped with snow. I do not think that I have anywhere in the Himalaya seen a more beautiful scene than that which then lay before me; but the effect was enhanced by the recollection of the appearance of the same spot in April, when the whole landscape was covered with snow, and I descended from the summit of the pass on a snow-bank which filled up the now inaccessible ravine, on account of which I was obliged to make a long detour. The descent was extremely abrupt, through a pretty wood, down to a log hut built for the accommodation of travellers a few hundred yards from the river, at an elevation of 9,200 feet.

The flora of the Sind valley at Baltal was very rich: the forest consisted chiefly of pine, poplar (_P. ciliata_), birch, and sycamore, intermixed with underwood of _Ribes_, _Berberis_, _Viburnum_, _Lonicera_, and _Salix_. The herbaceous vegetation had all that excessive luxuriance which characterizes the subalpine forests of the Himalaya at the end of the rainy season. Gigantic _Compositæ_, _Labiatæ_, _Ranunculaceæ_, and _Umbelliferæ_ were the prevailing forms. There were several large patches of snow in the bed of the lateral torrent which descended from Zoji La, as low down as the log hut; and it was not a little curious to observe, that in spots from which the snow had only recently melted, the willows were just beginning to expand their buds, and the cherry, rhubarb, _Thalictrum_, _Anemone_, _Fragaria_, and other plants of early spring, were in full flower.

[Sidenote: KASHMIR.
_October, 1848._]

In descending the Sind valley towards Kashmir, my route was the same by which I had travelled in April. The mountains on the left were extremely precipitous and heavily snowed, and in a ravine a little below Sonamarg a glacier descended almost to 9000 feet. The lower part of the valley was one sheet of cultivation, chiefly of rice, which was almost ripe. In the neighbourhood of Kashmir, where I arrived on the 5th of October, the season of vegetation was almost at an end; species of _Nepeta_, _Eryngium_, _Daucus_, _Centaurea_, _Carpesium_, and several _Artemisiæ_ being the most remarkable of the herbaceous plants remaining. In the lake there were vast groves of _Nelumbium_ leaves, but the flowers and fruit were both past; _Salvinia_ was everywhere floating in great abundance; while the other aquatic plants were species of _Bidens_, _Stachys_, _Mentha_, _Scutellaria_, _Hippuris_, and _Typha_, all European or closely resembling European forms.

Besides rice, which constitutes the staple crop of the valley, the principal grains cultivated in autumn appeared to be different kinds of millet, and a good deal of maize; Indian species of _Phaseolus_ also were common, now nearly ripe. The wheat and barley, which are much earlier, were already above ground. I saw a few fields of _Sesamum_ (the _Til_ of India), and in drier spots a good deal of cotton, which was being picked by hand, but appeared a poor stunted crop, much neglected.

On the high platforms between Pampur and Avantipura the saffron was in flower, and its young leaves were just shooting up. This crop seems a very remunerative one to the Raja, who retains the monopoly in his own hands, compelling the cultivators to sell the produce to him at a fixed price. The bulbs are allowed to remain in the ground throughout the year, and continue in vigour for eight or ten years, after which the produce diminishes so much in quantity that the beds are broken up, and the bulbs separated and replanted. The flowers are picked towards the end of October, and carried into the town of Kashmir, where the stigmas are extracted.

Another very important product of Kashmir is hemp, which grows spontaneously along the banks of the river, forming dense thickets often twelve and fifteen feet in height, and almost impenetrable. It is only used in the manufacture of an intoxicating drink, and for smoking; and the plant is preserved entire, in store-houses, in the town of Kashmir, till required for consumption.

From Kashmir I proceeded towards the plains of the Punjab by the same route by which I had travelled in May. During my absence in Tibet, the second Sikh war had broken out, and as it was then at its height, it was not easy to reach the British territories. I was therefore detained a good while, first in Kashmir, and afterwards at Jamu, and did not reach Lahore till the 16th of December.

FOOTNOTES:

[24] Two months later, Captain Strachey ascended the Nubra valley till stopped by this glacier, which appears to be on a still more gigantic scale than those of the Shayuk to the eastward.

[25] Excellent specimens of this singular alpine plant, each tuft of which must, I think, represent the growth of centuries, may be seen in the Museum of the Royal Gardens at Kew, collected by Dr. Hooker in Eastern Tibet.

[26] I have no conjecture to offer regarding the age or nature of this very remarkable rock.

[27] The itinerary of Mir Izzet Ullah shows that at the time of his journey from Le to Yarkand the direct road up the Shayuk was still open.