MUN—LUDHKONG—TOUCHING FRIENDSHIP OF MULE AND PONY—NIAGZU.
The road for the first couple of miles was fairly good over rising
ground when the lake first came into sight, and an extensive view
permitted the taking of several bearings to distant hills. The lake
looked blue, clear, and inviting, bounded on the further side by a fine
range of mountains running into snow-capped peaks.
Besides obtaining a view of the lake, we also saw our flock of sheep,
which had left Shushal the day previously, and very shortly overtook
them. We were surprised and somewhat disheartened at finding the
condition they were in. Two of them were already being carried in the
arms of the shepherds, which will at once prove that our mutton was not
of the fattest description. The remainder of the flock were going along
so weakly that it seemed doubtful whether we should see any of them
again. This disaster was a great blow to our commissariat arrangements.
We had at one time even reckoned that our sheep might carry loads of
about fifty or sixty pounds, but finding that would be impracticable,
we decided to drive them along with us day after day, keeping them as
a reserve, only making use of them when our own supplies began to run
short and game was scarce. But now two of them were knocked up after
going only a couple of miles. At this time of the year, sheep are
naturally in poor condition, for they have picked up but scanty feeding
during the winter months.
On this morning there was a strong north wind blowing in our teeth as
we rode on ahead of our caravan, and after five more miles followed the
sandy, stony shore of the lake.
As we were anxious not to be too far away from our caravan, we sought
a sheltered nook by the edge of the lake, and, dismounting, allowed
our ponies to graze on the little grass that grew close by, while we
ourselves, seizing the opportunity, pulled out the kettle from our
saddle-bags and soon had the water boiling for our breakfast. The kettle
might as well have remained where it was, for here we learnt our first
lesson in regard to many of the lakes of these regions, so pleasing to
the eye, but deceptive as to their use. Our tea was so brackish as to
defy any attempt at drinking it.
In the meantime our baggage had passed by, so we rode on over somewhat
heavy and stony ground to overtake them, and before nightfall reached
Mun, a small village with some cultivation around it, forming a kind of
oasis in this stony, sandy country. We found here a good serai wherein
to put our animals for the night, and a room for ourselves and men.
There was no more transport to be had here, but the usual supplies being
plentiful, we gave our animals two pounds of grain each and as much
bhoussa as they could eat.
The following morning, although we were able to better arrange the
loads, yet there was nothing satisfactory about them. Still favoured
with the north wind we continued along the shore of the lake. Thus far
we had found the water absolutely devoid of life, but after twelve miles
we came to the end of the lake, and found there the only inhabitants
living on it, a few gulls and a single Brahmini duck. At this spot,
too, the place is called Kaba, and there is another more direct road
branching off to the left to Leh.
Three more miles over deepish sand brought us to Ludhkong, the end of
our march. This was the last place where any kind of supplies could
be got. There was no grain here, but we were able to get plenty of
bhoussa, some milk, sheep, goats, and a limited number of hired yak.
The place consisted of a few stone houses built by the banks of a small
fresh-water stream. Around on all sides were hills and snow-topped
mountains; the land was barren, for there was no grazing ground at all.
The baggage arrived in good time, and we were glad of the afternoon for
overhauling everything, doctoring our animals, and taking heights. We
had, besides, to make up our minds as to which way we were going next.
This was our great difficulty, and at first we could induce nobody
to show us. We knew passes would have to be crossed, but as to their
height, and as to water, grass, and camping grounds, we were in total
ignorance.
Towards evening we learnt that, should we decide to proceed further,
we could only go by one road and in this case should have to cross two
passes, and that we should find no grass or water until the third day
on arrival at Niagzu. This was certainly gloomy intelligence, and a
bad lookout for our mules and ponies. Here they were about to go three
days without grass or water before even they had crossed the frontier
into Tibet. How could they ever cross the whole of Tibet and China? It
was absolutely cruel to think of it. In addition to this, our hired
animals had only agreed to come with us as far as Ludhkong. The only
solution out of the difficulty was to persuade the owners of them to
come on further with us, and this they were unwilling to do, for none of
them relished three days without water and grass. By promise of higher
rewards we finally overcame their scruples, and with the assistance of
the Kadir who, by orders from the Wazir, had come all the way from Leh
to smooth matters for us, we were enabled to hire more yak at Ludhkong
itself, making a grand total of thirty-four hired animals. These were
to come with us to Niagzu. As to our sheep, we came to an agreement with
the men of Ludhkong, by which they were to take possession of our flock
of sheep, which were coming on behind us, and were to fit us out with a
fresh flock of sheep and goats, receiving an adequate remuneration for
the bargain.
Things now began to look rosier for us. We arranged to put full loads
on these hired animals and allow them to travel to Niagzu in their own
time, while we ourselves, putting small loads on some of our own animals
and none on others, would journey on in advance and cover the distance
as fast as possible.
We reckoned that by leaving Ludhkong early one morning we could reach
Niagzu the following evening. There we knew both grass and water were
plentiful, and our own animals, while awaiting the arrival of the hired
ones, would be fattening up and enjoying a rest. After seeing that all
was ready for an early start the next day, we turned in for the night
with light hearts.
On awakening the following morning, the first sight that greeted our
eyes was that of our original hired yak being driven back in a body
the way they had come, without any one attempting to stop them. It
was fortunate we had woken up in good time that morning, as we were
in time to prevent their straying far. We soon had them back again,
and to prevent further attempt at desertion, at once set about the
loading up of the two lots of transport. In spite of our instructions
and arrangements the previous night, there was considerable confusion,
and with the class of men we had to deal with, it was unavoidable. All
as usual seize upon the nearest animal to load it up with the baggage
nearest at hand, entirely regardless as to whether the load is suitable
in weight or size to the animal, or whether it is required to go on with
the party in advance. Until the muleteers were quite under our thumb,
it was impossible to make them do otherwise.
We carried a glass lantern to hold a candle, and being anxious to save
it from being broken, it was carried in the hand by one of the hired
yakmen, but as to one of our own muleteers carrying a lantern for a few
miles! why, he had never done such a contemptible thing in all his life,
and wasn't going to do it now!
To avoid the chance of our hired transport making a second attempt to
turn back, we left Shahzad Mir and Esau to bring them on, as well as our
two most reliable muleteers, Bakr Hadji and Shukr Ali, and after saying
good-bye to the Kadir who had done so much good service for us, and to
the kind people of Ludhkong, we started on our waterless march.
We soon took a turning half-right, over some good grazing land, and then
began an easy ascent of the Porandu Pass for about five miles. When we
had nearly reached the summit, we stopped to boil our kettle with some
snow at hand, and to have our breakfast. Below us we could see first
of all our own mules and ponies, while right away in the distance our
glasses showed us our flock of sheep and goats and our hired yak, and
Shahzad Mir with the man carrying the plane table.
It was not encouraging, after having crossed this pass, to find the
road bending still more round to the right, following the direction of
the shore of the Pangong Lake, and we calculated that if we continued
to zigzag in the way we had done since leaving Leh, we should stand a
chance of reaching China in two or three years' time.
Our muleteers manifested anything but a willing spirit. As we were
riding on ahead, we were annoyed to find the caravan had halted some way
back, of their own accord, and from their general demeanour we concluded
they were contemplating whether the journey they were about to launch
forth on was really good enough or not. We, too, halted; this seemed to
be a turning-point in their plans, for they soon began to move on again.
As we ascended the stony nullah, sleet began to fall, encouraging the
darkness before its due time, and compelling us to take the best shelter
we could find for the night. Close by we found a suitable place—a sudden
dip in the nullah bordered by heavy overhanging rocks, with a fair
stretch of level ground at their foot. Here we drove four stout pegs
into the ground, with strong ropes fastened to them, making two parallel
lines; to one of these lines we picketed the mules, and to the other the
ponies, with the exception of a certain black mule and a certain white
pony. This couple had lived together practically for all their lives; in
fact, at the time when we were buying our transport in Leh, we had to be
satisfied with taking both of them or none at all, for the merchant who
owned them was as fond of them as they were of one another, and rather
than see them separated he would lose the chance of making his profit
on one of them.
This remarkable pair also found a warm spot in our hearts, and we did
all we could to keep the white pony in health and strength. They always
marched together, grazed together, and were never apart. On one occasion
when the pony was showing signs of weakness, we decided to ride it,
for by dint of walking a good deal and stopping two or three times
during the march, in grassy spots, we managed to save our riding ponies
considerably, and, we thought, the black mule would manage without his
friend for a few hours; but nothing of the sort—as soon as we rode away
with the white pony, immediately after him came the black mule, load and
all. We felt more convinced than ever that should the white pony die at
any time from exhaustion, his faithful friend would soon follow after
him; this doubled our anxiety to keep up the strength of the white pony,
for he was in no way equal to the black mule. To tell now of the fate
of this dear old couple would, perhaps, be anticipating events.
Near our camp there was not a vestige of grass, so we had to fall back
upon our limited supply of bhoussa and grain. Of course the mules and
ponies had to go waterless, although we were able to collect sufficient
snow for the use of our men and ourselves.
We had already turned to our left again, and had ceased to follow the
Pangong Lake, but had continued to make a long ascent. On leaving our
encampment by the rocks, up, up we went; a blinding sleet blew in our
faces, making it hard to see more than a few yards. At the top of this
pass, which was called the Ann Pass, sickness from the unaccustomed
height in no way sweetened the temper of some of our men, and we found
no pleasure attached to the operation of finding out the height of this
pass with the hypsometer, with a temperature just about freezing-point.
We hurried down the other side of this comfortless pass, and for
the rest of the day marched along a rocky, stony pathway, amidst a
continuous snowstorm, when suddenly, on a bend to our left, the whole
aspect was entirely changed. The heavy clouds gave way to a warm and
genial sun. Thick brushwood and green grass replaced the sharply-angled
rocks and those countless loose stones that lay about everywhere, as
though they were a bore to themselves and to all others. A clear stream,
too, ran merrily through this pleasant spot. No wonder the kyang and
antelope had chosen this as one of their favourite districts to wander
into, and the hares had grown fat and multiplied.
[Illustration: ON THE BORDERS OF TIBET; OUR CAMP AT NIAGZU.]
At this stage we had come nearly forty-five miles from Ludhkong, and
this was Niagzu, a place well worthy of note, for it neither lies in
Ladakh nor in Tibet. We had thus reached the border of the land we
were anxious to traverse. Having pitched our camp, we looked forward
to the morrow with composed feelings. First of all, we knew our mules
and ponies would enjoy a complete day of rest and freedom, wandering
through the fresh green grass or by the clear, trickling stream. We
felt our success depended in no small measure upon their welfare. We
rejoiced, too, that thus far we had managed by tact to prevent our
men from turning back, and reckoned that, could we only manage to go
a little distance beyond the frontier, they would be in our hands and
not we in theirs. We had, in truth, overcome what we considered as
difficulties such as made us more sanguine for the future. The day we
waited at Niagzu for the arrival of our hired yak was an ideal one,
when much could be done in rearranging the loads we had with us for the
continuation of the journey. The numerous hares, too, afforded sport and
provender for ourselves and our men. How anxious they were to hallal
this small game in the orthodox manner, little dreaming that a few
months later hunger would cause all these religious scruples to be put
aside and forgotten for the time being!
While waiting here we experienced our first annoyance with relation to
the straying of animals by night. Although at Niagzu we enjoyed good
shelter, grass, and water, yet on the following morning few animals were
in sight, and it was midday before they were all recovered. We almost
dreaded to think of what would happen should we chance to halt where
there was no grass, and where we intended marching early the next day.
They would quite naturally wander during the night to an indefinite
distance. Our chain hobbles, though most effective, and with which we
had been so pleased, were at a discount with our men, for they hated an
innovation, and infinitely preferred a long search of some miles after
a strayed mule to the two minutes' work necessary to fasten on securely
one of our chain hobbles.
We learnt from some of the hired yakmen, who had travelled still further
inland to collect salt, that there was another pass of considerable
height to cross over before we should have journeyed very far east of
Niagzu. Such being the case, it was evident that the trial of crossing
a high pass so early in our expedition without hired assistance would
be most detrimental to the well-being of our transport, loaded as they
would have to be up to the brim. We determined, therefore, to bring
forward every inducement in persuading some of the owners of the hired
yak to lend us their animals as far as the other side of this pass.
The day following our arrival at Niagzu there was no sign of our baggage
at all, but the day after this, about noontime, our anxiety was relieved
at seeing some of the laden yak just turning the corner to come up the
Niagzu valley. From the higher ground above our tents a fine view down
the whole of the valley was obtained, as well as of the range of snow
mountains far away in the distance. The transport came in by driblets,
as also did the flock of sheep, and it was quite clear that these latter
would not last out for many more marches.
The day on which our yak arrived chanced to be a Sunday, so we were
glad to be compelled to rest on that day. We clearly foresaw that in
future, Sunday or no Sunday, we should be forced by circumstances to
waste no single day. This last Sunday of rest was in consequence doubly
appreciated, and it was some months before we were enabled to enjoy
another.