The High Lands of the Great Continent (_continued_)—The Oriental
Table-Land and its Mountains.
THE Oriental plateau, or table-land of Tibet, is an irregular four-sided
mass stretching from S.W. to N.E., enclosed and traversed by the highest
mountains in the world. It is separated from the table-land of Persia by
the Hindoo Coosh, which may be considered as the western prolongation of
the Himalaya, occupying the terrestrial isthmus between the low lands of
Hindostan and Bucharia.
The cold dreary plateau of Tibet is separated on the south from the
glowing luxuriant plains of Hindostan by the Himalaya, which extends
from the eastern extremity of the Hindoo Coosh in Cabulistan to about
the 95th meridian, where it joins the immense mountain-knot which
renders the south-western corner of the table-land and the Chinese
province of Yun-nan one of the most elevated regions on the earth. On
the west, the table-land has its limits in the chain of the Bolor or
Beloot Tagh, the “Cloudy Mountains,” the Tartash Tagh of the natives, a
transverse range which detaches itself from the Hindoo Coosh nearly at a
right angle about the 72d degree of E. longitude, and, pursuing a
northerly direction, forms magnificent mountain-knots with the diagonal
chains of the table-land, and is the watershed between the valley of the
Oxus and Chinese Tartary. It descends in a succession of tiers or
terraces through the countries of Bokhara and Balkh to the deep cavity
in which the Caspian Sea and the Sea of Azoff lie, and forms, with the
Western Ghauts, the Solimaun range, and the Ural, a singular exception
to the general parallelism of the Asiatic mountains. Two narrow
difficult passes lead over the Beloot Tagh from the low plains of
Bucharia and Independent Tourkistan to Kashgar and Yarkand, on the
table-land in Chinese Tartary. The north-eastern edge of the table-land
is bounded by the Khing-han Mountains, a serrated granitic chain running
from south to north, which separates the plateau of Mongolia from the
country of Mantchouria, and joins the Yablonoi branch of the Altaï at
right angles about the 55th degree of north latitude. Little more is
known of the south-eastern boundary of the table-land than that it is a
mass of exceedingly high mountains. In fact, between the sources of the
Brahmapootra and the Altaï chain, nearly 1,000,000 of square miles of
the Chinese empire is covered with mountains.
The table-land itself is crossed longitudinally from west to east by two
great chains. The Kuenlun, or Chinese range, begins about 35° 30ʹ N.
lat. at the mountain-knot of Tsung-lin, formed by the Hindoo Coosh and
Himalaya, and, running eastward, it terminates about the 110th meridian,
but probably covers a great part of the western provinces of China with
its branches. The Thian-shan, or “Celestial Mountains,” lie more to the
north; they begin at the Bolor or Beloot Tagh, and, running along the
42d parallel, sink to the desert of the Great Gobi about the centre of
the plateau, but, rising again, they are continued under the name of
Shan-Garjan, which runs to the north-east and ends on the shores of the
Japan Sea. The Thian-shan is exceedingly volcanic, and, though so far
inland, pours forth lava, and exhibits all the other phenomena of
volcanic districts.
Tibet is enclosed between the Himalaya and the Kuen-lun; Tungut, or
Chinese Tartary, lies between the latter chain and the Thian-shan, or
Celestial Mountains; and Zungary, or Mongolia, between the Celestial
range and the Altaï. The meridional chain of the Bolor encloses Chinese
Tartary on the west; and Mongolia, which is entirely open on the west,
is shut in on the east by the Khing-han range, also running from south
to north. The Himalaya and Altaï ranges diverge in their easterly
courses, so that the table-land, which is only from 700 to 1000 miles
wide at its western extremity, is 2000 between the Chinese province of
Yunnan and the country of the Mantchou Tonguses.[28]
Of all these vast chains of mountains the Himalaya, and its principal
branch the Hindoo Coosh, are best known; though even of these a great
part has never been explored, on account of their enormous height and
the depth of snow, which make it impossible to approach the central
ridge, except in a very few places.
The range consists of three parts: the Hindoo Coosh, or Indian Caucasus,
which extends from the Paropamisan range in Afghanistan to Cashmere; the
Himalaya, or Imaus of the ancients, which stretches from the valley of
Cashmere to Bhotan; and, lastly, the mountains of Bhotan and Assam—the
three making one magnificent unbroken chain.
The Hindoo Coosh, which has its name from a mountain of great height,
north of the city of Cabul, is very broad to the west, extending over
many degrees of latitude, and, together with the offsets of the Beloot
Tagh, fills the countries of Kafferistan, Koonduz, and Budakshan. From
the plains to the south it seems to consist of four distinct ranges
running one above another, the last of which abuts on the table-land,
and is so high that its snowy summits are visible at the distance of 150
miles. A ridge of stupendous height encloses the beautiful valley of
Cashmere, to the east of which the chain takes the name of Himalaya,
“the dwelling of snow.” From the great mountain-knot of Tsung-lin, the
Himalaya no longer maintains its direct easterly course, but makes a
vast arch to the south of 300 miles, which extends to the Brahmapootra,
varying in breadth from 250 to 350 miles, and occupying an area of
600,000 square miles.[29]
The general structure of the Himalaya is very regular: the first range
of hills that rise above the plains of Hindostan is alluvial, north of
which lies the Tariyani, a tract from 10 to 30 miles wide, 1000 feet
above the sea, covered with dense pestilential jungle, and extending
along the foot of the range. North of this region are rocky ridges 5000
or 6000 feet high. Between these and the higher ranges lie the peaceful
and well-cultivated valleys of Nepaul, Bhotan, and Assam, of
inexhaustible fertility, interspersed with picturesque and populous
towns and villages. Though separated by mountain-groups, they form the
principal terrace of the Himalaya between the Sutlej and Brahmapootra.
Behind these are mountains from 10,000 to 12,000 feet high, flanked by
magnificent forests; and, lastly, the snowy ranges rise in succession to
the table-land.
The principal and most elevated chains are cut by narrow, gloomy ravines
and transverse dusky gorges, through which the torrents of melted snow
rush to swell the rivers of Hindostan. The character of the valleys
becomes softer in the lower regions, till at last the luxuriance of
vegetation and beauty cannot be surpassed. Transverse valleys, however,
are more frequent in the Hindoo Coosh than in the Himalaya, where they
consist chiefly of such chasms filled with wreck as the tributaries of
the Indus and Ganges have made in bursting through the chain.
The mean height of the Himalaya is stupendous. Captain Gerard and his
brother estimated that it could not be less than from 16,000 to 20,000
feet; but, from the average elevation of the passes over these
mountains, Baron Humboldt thinks it must be under 15,700 feet. Colonel
Sabine estimates it to be only 11,510 feet, though the peaks exceeding
that elevation are not to be numbered, especially at the sources of the
Sutlej; indeed, from that river to the Kalee, the chain exhibits an
endless succession of the loftiest mountains on earth; forty of them
surpass the height of Chimborazo, one of the highest of the Andes, and
several reach the height of 25,000 feet at least. So rugged is this part
of the magnificent chain, that the military parade at Sabathoo, half a
mile long and a quarter of a mile broad, is said to be the only level
ground between it and the Tartar frontier on the north, or the valley of
Nepaul on the east. Towards the fruitful valleys of Nepaul and Bhotan
the Himalaya is equally lofty, some of the mountains being 28,000 feet
high; but it is narrower, and the descent to the plains excessively
rapid, especially in the territory of Bhotan, where the dip from the
table-land is more than 10,000 feet in ten miles. The valleys are
crevices so deep and narrow, and the mountains that hang over them in
menacing cliffs are so lofty, that these abysses are shrouded in
perpetual gloom, except where the rays of a vertical sun penetrate their
depths. From the steepness of the descent the rivers shoot down with the
swiftness of an arrow, filling the caverns with foam and the air with
mist. At the very base of this wild region lies the elevated and
peaceful valley of Bhotan, vividly green, and shaded by magnificent
forests. Another rapid descent of 1000 feet leads to the plain of the
Ganges.
The Himalaya still maintains great height along the north of Assam, and
at the Brahmapootra the parent stem and its branches extend in breadth
over two degrees of latitude, forming a vast mountain-knot of great
elevation. Beyond this point nothing certain is known of the range, but
it or some of its branches are supposed to cross the southern provinces
of the Chinese empire, and to end in the volcanic island of Formosa.
Little more is known of the northern side of the mountains than that the
passes are about 5000 feet above the plains of Tibet.
The passes over the Hindoo Coosh, though not the highest, are very
formidable: there are six from Cabul to the plains of Turkistan; and so
deep and so much enclosed are the defiles, that Sir Alexander Burnes
never could obtain an observation of the pole-star in the whole journey
from Barmeean till within thirty miles of Turkistan.
Most of the passes over the Himalaya are but little lower than the top
of Mont Blanc: many are higher, especially near the Sutlej, where they
are from 18,000 to 19,000 feet high; and that north-east of Khoonawur is
20,000 feet above the level of the sea—the highest that has been
attempted. All are terrific, and the fatigue and suffering from the
rarity of the air in the last 500 feet is not to be described. Animals
are as much distressed as human beings, and many die; thousands of birds
perish from the violence of the wind, the drifting snow is often fatal
to travellers, and violent thunderstorms add to the horror of the
journey. The Niti Pass, by which Mr. Moorcroft ascended to the sacred
lake of Manasa, in Tibet, is tremendous; he and his guide had not only
to walk barefooted, from the risk of slipping, but they were obliged to
creep along the most frightful chasms, holding by twigs and tufts of
grass, and sometimes they crossed deep and awful crevices on a branch of
a tree, or on loose stones thrown across. Yet these are the
thoroughfares for commerce in the Himalaya, never repaired nor
susceptible of improvement from frequent landslips and torrents.
The loftiest peaks being bare of snow gives great variety of colour and
beauty to the scenery, which in these passes is at all times
magnificent. During the day, the stupendous size of the mountains, their
interminable extent, the variety and sharpness of their forms, and,
above all, the tender clearness of their distant outline melting into
the pale blue sky, contrasted with the deep azure above, is described as
a scene of wild and wonderful beauty. At midnight, when myriads of stars
sparkle in the black sky, and the pure blue of the mountains looks
deeper still below the pale white gleam of the earth and snow-light, the
effect is of unparalleled solemnity, and no language can describe the
splendour of the sunbeams at daybreak streaming between the high peaks,
and throwing their gigantic shadows on the mountains below. There, far
above the habitation of man, no living thing exists, no sound is heard;
the very echo of the traveller’s footsteps startles him in the awful
solitude and silence that reigns in these august dwellings of
everlasting snow.
Nature has in mercy mitigated the intense rigour of the cold in these
high lands in a degree unexampled in other mountainous regions. The
climate is mild, the valleys are verdant and inhabited, corn and fruit
ripen at elevations which in other countries—even under the equator—
would be buried in permanent snow.
It is also a peculiarity in these mountains that the higher the range
the higher likewise is the limit of snow and vegetation. On the southern
slopes of the first range, Mr. Gerard found cultivation 10,000 feet
above the sea, though it was often necessary to reap the corn still
green and unripe; while in Chinese Tartary good crops are raised 16,000
feet above the sea. Captain Gerard saw pasture and low bushes up to
17,009 feet; and corn as high as even 18,544 feet, which is 2784 feet
higher than the top of Mont Blanc, and 1279 feet above the snow-line in
the province of Quito under the equator. Birch-trees with tall stems
grow at the elevation of 14,068 feet, and the vine and other fruits
thrive in the valleys of these high plains. The temperature of the earth
probably has some influence on the vegetation: as many hot springs exist
in the Himalaya at great heights, there must be a source of heat below
these mountains, which in some places comes near the surface, and
possibly may be connected with the volcanic fires in the central chains
of the table-land. Hot springs abound in the valley of Jumnotra; and as
it is well known that many plants thrive in very cold air if their roots
are well protected, it may be the cause of pine-trees thriving at great
elevations in that valley, and of the splendid forests of the deodar, a
species of cypress that grows to gigantic size even in the snow.
According to Captain and Mr. Gerard, the line of perpetual congelation
is at an elevation of only 12,981 feet on the southern slopes of the
Himalaya; while on the northern side, or rather on the peaks which rise
above the table-land, the limit is 16,620 feet; but the mean height of
the table-land of Tibet, and the relative elevation of the line of
perpetual snow on the two declivities of the Himalaya, require to be
better investigated. The greater elevation of the snow-line on the
northern side is the joint result of the serenity of the sky, the less
frequent formation of snow in very cold dry air, and the radiation of
heat from the neighbouring plains, which, being so near, have much
greater effect on the temperature than the warmer but more distant
plains on the south. There are fewer glaciers in the Asiatic mountains
than might have been expected from the great mass of snow; they are
chiefly on the Thibetian side of the Himalaya, and on the Kuenlun. There
is a very large one at the source of the Indus, and another at the
source of the Ganges, on the southern face of the Himalaya.
Various secondary chains of great length detach themselves from the
eastern extremity of the Himalaya, or rather the vast knot of mountains,
near the sources of the Brahmapootra, in the Chinese province of
Yun-nan, which is a terra incognita; their origin, therefore, is
unknown. But in Upper Assam they run cross to the equatorial system of
Asiatic mountains, and, extending in a southerly but diverging
direction, they spread like the spokes of a fan through the countries
east of the Ganges and the Indo-Chinese peninsula, leaving large and
fertile kingdoms between them. The Birmano-Siamese chain is the most
extensive, reaching to Cape Romania, at the southern extremity of the
Malay peninsula, the most southerly point of the Asiatic continent; it
may be traced through the island of Sumatra parallel to the coast, and
also in the islands of Banca and Biliton, where it ends.
Another range, called the Laos-Siamese chain, forms the eastern boundary
of the kingdom of Siam, and the Annamatic chain, from the same origin,
separates the empire of Annam from Tonquin and Cochin China.
These slightly diverging lines of mountains yield gold, silver, tin of
the best quality and in great plenty, almost on the surface, and
precious stones, as rubies and sapphires. Mountains in low latitudes
have nothing of the severe character of those in less favoured climes.
Magnificent forests reach their summit; spices, dyes of brilliant tints,
medicinal and odoriferous plants, clothe their declivities; and in the
low grounds the fruits of India and China grow in perfection, in a soil
which yields three crops of grain in the year.
The crest of the Himalaya is of stratified crystalline rocks, especially
gneiss, with large granitic veins, and beds of quartz of huge magnitude.
The zone between 15,000 and 18,000 feet above the level of the sea is of
Silurian strata; granite is most frequent at the base, and probably
forms the foundation of the chain. Strata of comparatively modern date
occur at great elevations. The sedimentary formations, prevailing also
on the acclivities of the Alps and Apennines, show that the epochs of
elevation in parts of the earth widely remote from one another, if not
simultaneous, were at least not very different. There can be no doubt
that very great geological changes have taken place at a comparatively
recent period in the Himalaya, and through an extensive part of the
Asiatic continent.
The Altaï mountains, which form the northern margin of the table-land,
are unconnected with the Ural chain: they are separated from it by 400
miles of a low marshy country, part of the steppe of the Kirghiz, and by
the Dalaï mountains, a low range never above 2000 feet high, which runs
between the 64th meridian and the left bank of the Irtish. The Altaï
chain rises on the right bank of that river, at the north-west angle of
the table-land, and extends in a serpentine line to the Pacific, south
of the Gulf of Okhotzk, dividing the high lands of Tartary and China
from the wastes of Asiatic Siberia. Under various names, its branches
skirt the north-west side of the Gulf of Okhotzk, and thence stretching
to Behring’s Straits, it ends at Eastern Cape, the most eastern
extremity of the old continent, the whole length of the chain being 4500
miles. The breadth of this chain varies from 400 to 1000 miles, but
towards the 105th meridian it is contracted to about 150 by a projection
of the desert of the Great Gobi. Its height bears no proportion to its
length and breadth. The Altaï, the only part of the chain properly so
called, can only be regarded as a succession of terraces of a swelling
outline, descending by steps from the table-land, and ending in the
promontories of the Siberian plains. There are numerous large lakes on
these terraces and in the valleys, as in the mountain systems of Europe.
The general form of this part of the chain is monotonous from the
prevalence of straight lines and smooth rounded outlines—long ridges
with flattened summits, or small table-lands not more than 6000 feet
high, which rarely attain the line of perpetual congelation: snow,
however, is permanent on the Korgon table-land, 9900 feet above the sea,
supposed to be the culminating point of this part of the chain. These
table-lands bear a strong resemblance to those in the Scandinavian
mountains in baldness and sterility, but their flanks are clothed with
forests, verdant meadows, and pastoral valleys.
East of the 86th meridian this region of low mountains splits into three
branches, enclosing longitudinal valleys for 450 miles. The Sayansk and
Zongnou mountains, which are the northern and central branches, form a
mountain-knot nearly as large as England, which projects like a huge
promontory on the Siberian plains[30] west of Lake Baikal, and is
celebrated for the richness of its mines. The third branch, which is the
Ulangomula, lies south of Lake Oubsa. The principal part of the Baikal
group is 500 miles long, from 10 to 60 wide, high and snow-capped, and
said to be without glaciers. It flanks lake Baikal on the north, the
largest of Alpine lakes, so embedded in a knot of mountains, partly
granitic, partly volcanic, that rocks and pillars of granite rise from
its bed. The mountains south of the lake are but the face of the
table-land; a traveller ascending them finds himself at once in the
desert of Gobi, which stretches in unbroken sadness to the great wall of
China.
The Daouria mountains, a volcanic portion of the Altaï, which borders
the table-land on the north-east, follow the Baikal chain; and farther
east, at the sources of the Aldan, the Altaï range takes the name of the
Yablonnoi Khrebet, and stretches south of the Gulf of Okhotzk to the
coast of the Pacific opposite to the island of Saghalian; while another
part, 1000 miles broad, fills the space between the Gulf of Okhotzk and
the river Lena, and then, bending to the north-east, ends in the
peninsula of Kamtchatka. Between the western end of Lake Baikal and the
Yablonnoi Khrebet the mountain-chains are parallel, and extend from the
W.S.W. to the E.N.E., which is the general direction of the high lands
in the most easterly regions of Asia.
A great part of the Altaï chain is unknown to Europeans; the innumerable
branches that penetrate the Chinese empire are completely so: those
belonging to Russia abound in a great variety of precious and rare
metals and minerals—silver, copper, and iron. In the Yablonnoi range,
and other parts, there are whole mountains of porphyry, with red and
green jasper; coal is also found; and in a branch of the Altaï between
the rivers Obi and Yennissei there are mines of coal which, having been
set on fire by lightning, have continued to burn for more than a
century. The Siberian mountains far surpass the Andes in the richness of
their gold mines. The eastern flank of the Ural chain, and some of the
northern spurs of the Altaï, have furnished a vast quantity of gold, but
a region as large as France has lately been discovered in Siberia
covered with the richest gold alluvium, lying above rocks abounding in
that precious metal. The mines of the Ural and Altaï are situated
principally in metamorphic rocks, adjacent to the greenstones, syenites,
and serpentines that have caused their change; and as the same formation
prevails throughout the greater part of the Altaï and Aldan chains
almost to Kamtchatka, there is every reason to believe that the whole of
that vast region is auriferous: besides, as many of the northern offsets
of the Altaï are particularly rich, it may be concluded that the
southern branches in the Chinese empire are equally so. Thus, Southern
Siberia and Chinese Tartary form an auriferous district, probably
greater in area than all Europe, which extends even to our dominions in
Hindostan, where the formations containing gold are unexplored.[31]
The sedimentary deposits in this extensive mountain-range are more
ancient than the granite, syenite, and porphyries: consequently these
igneous rocks have not here formed part of the original crust of the
globe. Rocks of the Palæozoic series occupy the greater part of the
Altaï, and probably there are none more modern. There are no volcanic
rocks, properly speaking, ancient or modern, west of the Yenissei, but
they abound to the east of that river, even to Kamtchatka, which is full
of them.
The physical characters and the fossil remains of this extensive
mountain system have little relation with the geological formations of
Europe and America. Eastern Siberia seems even to form an insulated
district by itself, and that part between the town of Yakoutzk and the
mouth of the Lena appears to have been raised at a later period than the
part of Siberia stretching westward to the Sayansk mountains; moreover,
the elevation of the western part of the Altaï was probably
contemporaneous with that of the Ural mountains.[32] On the whole, the
chains in the direction of parallels of latitude in the Old Continent
are much more numerous and extensive than those in the meridians; and as
they lie chiefly towards the equator, the internal forces that raised
them were probably modified by the rotation of the earth.
The table-land of Tibet is only 4000 feet above the sea towards the
north, but it rises in Little Tibet to between 11,000 and 12,000 feet.
The Kuen-lun, the most southerly of the two diagonal mountain-chains
that cross the table-land, begins at the Hindoo Coosh, in latitude 35°
30ʹ, being, in fact, a branch of that chain, and extends eastward in two
branches, which surround the lake Tengri-Nor, and again unite in the
K’han of eastern Tibet. The most southerly of the two branches, known as
the Ice Mountains, or Kara-Korum of the natives, maintains a curved
course parallel to the Himalaya, and then bends north towards the
Kuen-lun, which pursues a more direct line across the table-land. Chains
more or less connected with these form an elevated mountain plain round
Lake Koko-Nor, nearly in the centre of the table-land, from whence those
immense mountain-ranges diverge, which render the south-western
provinces of China the most elevated region on earth. The country of
Tibet lying between the Himalaya and the Kuen-lun consists of rocky
mountainous ridges, extending from N.W. to S.E., separated by long
valleys, in which flow the upper courses of the Brahmapootra, Sutlej,
and Indus. According to Mr. Moorcroft, the sacred lake Manasa, in Great
Tibet, and the surrounding country, is 17,000 feet above the sea, which
is 1240 feet higher than Mont Blanc. In this elevated region wheat and
barley grow, and many of the fruits of Southern Europe ripen. The city
of H’Lassa, in eastern Tibet, the residence of the Grand Lama, is
surrounded by vineyards, and is called by the Chinese the “Realm of
Pleasure.” There are some trees in this country; but the ground in
cultivation bears a small proportion to the grassy steppes, which extend
in endless monotony, grazed by thousands of the shawl-wool goats, sheep,
and cattle. There are many lakes in the table-land: some in Ladak
contain borax—a salt very useful in the arts, found only here, at Monte
Cerboliti in Tuscany, and in one of the Lipari islands.
In summer the sun is powerful at mid-day, the air is of the purest
transparency, and the azure of the sky so deep that it seems black as in
the darkest night. The rising moon does not enlighten the atmosphere, no
warning radiance announces her approach, till her limb touches the
horizon, and the stars shine with the distinctness and brilliancy of
suns. In southern Tibet the verdure is confined to favoured spots; the
bleak mountains and high plains are sternly gloomy—a scene of barrenness
not to be conceived. Solitude reigns in these dreary wastes, where there
is not a tree, nor even a shrub to be seen of more than a few inches
high. The scanty, short-lived verdure vanishes in October; the country
then looks as if fire had passed over it, and cutting dry winds blow
with irresistible fury, howling in the bare mountains, whirling the snow
through the air, and freezing to death the unfortunate traveller
benighted in their defiles.
Yarkand and Khotan, provinces of Chinese Tartary, which lie beyond the
two diagonal chains, are less elevated and more fertile than Tibet; yet
it is so cold in winter that the river Yarkiang is frozen for three
months. They are watered by five rivers, and contain several large
cities; Yarkand, the most considerable of these, is the emporium of
commerce between Tibet, Turkistan, China, and Russia. Gold, rubies,
silk, and other productions are exported.
The Tartar range of the Thian-Shan is very high; the Bogda Oola, or
“Holy Mountain,” near Lake Lob, its highest point, is always covered
with snow, and it has two active volcanoes, one on each side. This range
runs along the 42d parallel of north latitude, forming at its western
extremity a mountain-knot with the Beloot Tagh, in the centre of which
lies the small table-land of Pamer, 15,600 feet high, called by the
natives the “Roof of the World.” Its remarkable elevation was first
described by the celebrated Venetian traveller Marco Polo, six centuries
ago. The Oxus originates in a glacier of the Pooshtee Khur, a peak of
the Beloot Tagh near the plain of Pamer; the lake Sir-i-Kol is here the
source of the river of Yarkand; and the Kokan also rises in the same
plain, which is intensely cold in winter, and in summer is alive with
flocks of sheep and goats. Snow lies deep on the Thian-Shan range in
winter, yet little falls on the plains on account of the dryness of the
air. There are only two or three showers annually on these mountains,
for a very short time, and the drops are so minute as scarcely to wet
the ground, yet the streams from them suffice for irrigation.
Zungary, or Mongolia, the country between the Thian-Shan and the Altaï,
is hardly known, further than that its grassy steppes, intersected by
many lakes and offsets from the Altaï, are the pasture-grounds of the
wandering Kirghiz.
The remarkable feature of the table-land is the desert of the Great
Gobi, which occupies an area of 300,000 square miles in its eastern
extremity, interrupted only by a few spots of pasture and low bushes.
Wide tracts are flat, and covered with small stones or sand, and widely
separated from one another are low hills destitute of wood and water;
its general elevation is 4220 feet above the sea, but it is intersected
from west to east by a depressed valley aptly named Shamo, or the “Sea
of Sand,” which is also mixed with salt. West from it lies the Han-Hai,
the “Dry Sea,” a barren plain of shifting sand blown into high ridges.
Here, as in all deserts, the summer sun is scorching, no rain falls, and
when thick fog occurs it is only the precursor of fierce winds. All the
plains of Mongolia are intensely cold in winter, because the hills to
the north are too low to screen them from the polar blast, and, being
higher than the Siberian deserts, they are bitterly cold; no month in
the year is free from frost and snow, yet it is not deep enough to
prevent cattle from finding pasture. Sandy deserts like that of the
Great Gobi occupy much of the country south of the Chinese branches of
the Altaï.
Such is the stupendous zone of high land that girds the old continent
throughout its whole length. In the extensive plains on each side of it
several independent mountain systems rise, though much inferior to it in
extent and height.