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.

[Sidenote: SILDANG VALLEY.

_August, 1847._]

The night we spent at Tranda was stormy, with thunder and heavy

showers of rain, but the morning of the 13th 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.

[Sidenote: EASTERN BOUNDARY OF KULU.

_August, 1847._]

Nearly opposite Nachar, the district of Kunawar, which had hitherto

been confined to the south bank of the Sutlej, extends to both sides

of the river; the province of 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.

[Sidenote: DESCENT TOWARDS THE SUTLEJ.

_August, 1847._]

For this reason the main road or highway through Kunawar crosses to

the right bank of the Sutlej, a short way above Nachar. At starting,

therefore, on the 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.

[Sidenote: WANGTU BRIDGE.

_August, 1847._]

At the point where the bridge has been thrown across, the river Sutlej

has an elevation, by the determination 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.

[Sidenote: WATERFALL.

_August, 1847._]

In spite of the considerable elevation which the Sutlej valley had now

acquired, a number of plants of tropical 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.

[Sidenote: CHEGAON.

_August, 1847._]

After regaining the river, the road ran along its bank, or on low

spurs not more than a few hundred feet above it, 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.

[Sidenote: GERARD'S PINE.

_August, 1847._]

Next day our journey was a short one, not more than five and a half

miles, to the village of Miru. It began by 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.

[Sidenote: MIRU.

_August, 1847._]

Beyond the crest of the ridge, from which the view into the Sutlej

valley, and towards the mountains across the 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.

[Sidenote: VEGETATION OF KUNAWAR.

_August, 1847._]

Jacquemont, in the valuable journal of his tour in India, which has

been published by the French Government, 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.

[Sidenote: QUERCUS ILEX.

_August, 1847._]

_Pinus Gerardiana_ produces a very large cone, containing, like the

stone-pine of Europe, eatable nuts, 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.

[Sidenote: VIEW OF THE SUTLEJ.

_August, 1847._]

On the morning of the 16th of August, we proceeded to Rogi, eight and

a half miles. On leaving Miru the road 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.

[Sidenote: BURANG PASS.

_August, 1847._]

A little more than two miles from Miru, the road descended to pass a

stream, which was crossed in two 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.

[Sidenote: VEGETATION.

_August, 1847._]

The elevation we had now attained was higher than any previous part of

our journey, being 200 feet above the 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_).

[Sidenote: ROGI.

_August, 1847._]

From the crest, the remainder of the road consists of a succession of

short ascents and descents, along the face 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.

[Sidenote: CHINI.

_August, 1847._]

As soon as this rocky projection was passed, the road descended

rapidly, but over good level ground for half a 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.

[Sidenote: KASHBIR.

_August, 1847._]

A little further we passed the small village of Kashbir, consisting of

two or three houses only; beyond which a 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.

[Sidenote: PANGI.

_August, 1847._]

From Chegaon to Pangi we had passed through the finest and most

fertile part of Kunawar, which is, 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.

[Sidenote: ROCKS OF KUNAWAR.

_August, 1847._]

During the journey from Simla, I had been able to acquire very little

information regarding the geology of 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.

[Sidenote: ASCENT TOWARDS

THE WERANG PASS.

_August, 1847._]

At daybreak we were on foot, preparing for the ascent. The morning

was, as usual for some days past, thickly foggy, and a heavy dew had

fallen during the night. At 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.

[Sidenote: DESCENT FROM

THE WERANG PASS.

_August, 1847._]

From the crest of the pass, the descent to Lipa was long and steep,

the distance being about five miles. At about 500 feet or rather more

(of perpendicular height) below 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.

[Sidenote: LIPA.

_August, 1847._]

In the valley of Lipa I met with a species of caper, apparently the

same which I had collected at Rampur 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.

[Sidenote: ASCENT TOWARDS

THE RUNANG PASS.

_August, 1847._]

On the next ridge beyond this little green spot, the ascent continued

steep, over loose shingly soil, among scattered trees of deodar, and

occasionally a fine tree of _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.

[Sidenote: THE RUNANG PASS.

_August, 1847._]

The first half-mile of the ascent to the pass was very gentle, till we

passed round the hollow of the valley 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.

[Sidenote: VEGETATION.

_August, 1847._]

I spent a considerable time on the top of the pass, and by close

searching, in the crevices of the stones, 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.

[Sidenote: SUNGNAM.

_August, 1847._]

Sungnam is one of the principal places of Kunawar, dividing with

Kanam, which we did not visit, the claim 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.

FOOTNOTES:

[5] I have carefully compared, since my return to England, a great

many specimens of the Himalayan _Picea_, and am sorry to be obliged to

dissent from the opinion of their distinctness, which has been

expressed by many excellent observers. Great variations occur in

length of leaf, which is either green on both sides, or very glaucous

below. All have notched leaves, but the notch varies much in depth and

form. There are also differences in the form of the cones and the

shape of the scales. The long green-leaved state is that of the moist

Himalaya; in the driest regions the very short glaucous-leaved form

occurs. There are, however, among the specimens collected by Wallich,

Strachey, and myself, so many intermediate forms of leaf, that I feel

satisfied that all must be considered states of one species, varying,

like most _Coniferæ_, with climate and other accidental circumstances.

[6] I have now no doubt that the whole of this descent was over an

ancient glacier moraine, but I was not at the time familiar with

glaciers or their moraines by personal experience; and though on this

and other similar occasions my notes show that I was much puzzled by

the numerous transported blocks, the idea of this explanation did not

suggest itself to me till I had an opportunity of seeing the

connection of such phenomena with actual moraines.

Western Himalaya and Tibet A Narrative of a Journey Through the Mountains of Northern India During the Years 1847-8 · 第 3 / 15 章