Hangarang ridge separates Kunawar from Piti -- Ascent to
Hangarang Pass -- Alluvial deposit -- Steep ascent -- View of
valley -- Limestone rocks -- _Caragana versicolor_, or _Dama_
-- Camp at 14,000 feet -- Top of pass -- View from pass --
Vegetation of summit -- Descent to Hango -- Cultivation round
the village -- Luxuriant wild plants -- Road to Lio -- _Crambe_
-- Ravine of Piti river -- Lio -- Bridge over Piti river --
Ascent to Nako -- Nako -- Cultivation of the village --
Buddhist temple -- Transported blocks -- Chango -- Changar --
Stopped by villagers on Chinese frontier -- Natural bridge --
Kyuri -- Alluvium -- Clay deposit with shells -- Lari --
Ramifications of mountain ranges -- Alluvial platforms -- Pok
-- Dankar -- Lara -- Rangrig -- Upper part of Piti -- Climate
-- Saline exudations
The Hangarang ridge, as we may conveniently call that mountain range
on which the pass of Hangarang is situated, forms the boundary between
the districts of Kunawar and Hangarang. As this range terminates at or
close to the point where the Sutlej is joined by the Piti river, this
division is geographically convenient. It has also a marked physical
signification, forming the absolute limit of the deodar and Gerard's
pine; and indeed, if we except the juniper, of all tree vegetation.
On the 22nd of August, our party left Sungnam to ascend towards the
Hangarang pass, encamping, as on the two previous occasions, on the
upper part of the ascent, so as to get to the summit of the pass at
an early hour next day. Our road lay up a narrow ravine, through which
a small stream descended from the vicinity of the Hangarang pass, to
join the Ruskalan immediately below Sungnam. We followed for a long
time the course of this rivulet, so that the ascent was by no means
fatiguing. A very few stunted deodars, and a single tree of _Pinus
Gerardiana_, were the only trees met with. A little shrubby vegetation
was now and then seen, consisting of an ash, rose, _Colutea_,
_Lonicera_, and _Spiræa_. The banks of the ravine were everywhere
composed of a conglomerate of angular stones, in general imbedded in
soft clay, though the matrix was not unfrequently calcareous, and in
several places even composed of crystalline carbonate of lime.
[Sidenote: BEDS OF CONGLOMERATE.
_August, 1847._]
The hard calcareous conglomerates are, I think, of different origin
from the clayey ones. Indeed, I was induced to believe from what I saw
in the neighbourhood of Sungnam, and occasionally in other districts
(as I shall have again occasion to notice), that the calcareous
conglomerates, which only occur in the neighbourhood of the limestone
formation, and therefore where calcareous springs are common, are
formed by the infiltration of water containing lime among beds of
loose shingle which have accumulated along the base of the steep
hills. These calcareous conglomerates are quite local, never very
extensive, and are often covered with an incrustation of lime, showing
the continued existence of the calcareous springs, by the action of
which I suppose them to have been formed.
[Sidenote: ALLUVIAL CONGLOMERATE.
_August, 1847._]
The clay beds, on the other hand, are continuous and uniform in
appearance. They vary much in thickness, but are on the whole much
thicker and more remarkable in the upper part of the ravine, where (on
the east side) a mass of clay, not less than five or six hundred feet
in thickness, has accumulated, forming steep sloping or quite
perpendicular banks, which at the top are worn away into pinnacles,
and excavated into deep grooves and hollows, I presume by the action
of melting snow. The fragments of rock which it contained were all
angular, or at most a very little worn at the edges.
Five or six miles from Sungnam, the road left the course of the
ravine, and began rapidly to ascend the steep spur which bounded it on
the left. At first we followed a fissure in the clay conglomerate,
which still had a thickness of nearly two hundred feet. Above, the
ridge was rocky and very steep. When we had attained a sufficient
height to overlook the valley by which we had ascended from Sungnam, I
was able to estimate better than while in the ravine, the extent of
the clay deposit. It was now seen to occupy both sides of the valley,
and to be pretty equally diffused throughout, but certainly thicker on
the left or eastern side,--in the upper part at least, for low down,
just behind Sungnam, it capped a round sloping hill of considerable
elevation to the right of the little streamlet and of the road. The
valley did not narrow at the lower extremity, where it debouched into
that of the Ruskalan, so much as to give any reason for supposing that
it could have been closed by a barrier, so as to form a lake. Indeed,
the absolute elevation of the conglomerate was so great at the upper
end of the valley, that it would be necessary to suppose a barrier
several thousand feet above the bed of the Ruskalan to produce such an
effect. The greater thickness of the conglomerate in the upper part of
the ravine, and the almost complete angularity of the fragments, were
equally opposed to such a view. Nor was I able to form any probable
conjecture as to the mode in which these accumulations had been
formed.
[Sidenote: ROCKS OF HANGARANG.
_August, 1847._]
In the earlier part of the day's journey, the rock, where exposed, was
invariably clay-slate, not different in appearance from that which,
commencing at Lipa, had been observed on every part of the Runang
ridge. It dipped generally at a high angle, but was often much
contorted. In the upper part of the ravine, thick beds of a hard
cherty quartz rock alternated with the slate; and in the course of the
last steep ascent, at an elevation of about 13,500 feet, the first
limestone was observed. It was of a dark blue colour, very hard,
coarsely stratified, and much veined with white calcareous spar. It
seemed to dip at a high angle towards the north-east.
The ridge by which we ascended was quite bare of trees and exceedingly
barren, producing very little vegetation of any sort, and no novelty,
till we had almost attained an elevation of 14,000 feet. We then
observed bushes of a species of _Caragana_ (_C. versicolor_), the
_Dama_ of the Tibetans, a very curious stunted shrub, which is very
extensively distributed at elevations which no other woody plants
attain, and which, therefore, is much prized and extensively used as
fuel. I had not met with it before, nor does it appear to extend at
all into the wooded region of the Himalaya. We encamped on a flat
piece of ground at 14,000 feet. Notwithstanding the elevation, the
heat of the sun was very great during the day, but the evening and
night were extremely cold.
[Sidenote: HANGARANG PASS.
_August, 1847._]
Early next morning a short steep ascent of about 800 feet brought us
to the top of the pass, which has an elevation of 14,800 feet above
the sea. The _Dama_, in green patches from two to four feet in
diameter, was abundant till near the summit. The pass occupies a
hollow in the ridge, which rises considerably on both sides. To the
north-west, on the northern exposure, there was at a short distance
one small patch of snow, from which the pass and surrounding mountains
were otherwise quite free. No remarkable difficulty of breathing was
experienced by any of the party, except immediately after any
exertion. The ascent was latterly so steep, that it was necessary to
stop frequently to take breath, and the pulse was found to be very
considerably accelerated when counted immediately after walking. There
was, however, a great difference according to the individual; in one
case it rose as high as 136; but a few minutes' rest restored it
nearly to the usual standard.
At the crest of the pass, the rock was a hard bluish-grey limestone,
traversed in every direction by numerous crystalline veins. I ascended
the hill to the south-east, to an elevation of nearly 16,000 feet,
which was within a few hundred feet of the summit. At that height it
was composed of a mass of loose fragments of black slate, perfectly
moveable, and so steep, that it was difficult to progress in an upward
direction. Vegetation had almost disappeared; more, however, from the
moveable shingly soil than from the elevation attained, for wherever a
solid rock peeped out, straggling plants still lingered; the rhubarb,
_Biebersteinia_, a minute saxifrage, and a yellow lichen, were the
species which attained the greatest altitude.
The view from the summit of the pass, and the steep hill above it, was
extensive, but very desolate. In the direction of our previous
journey, the rounded outline of the Runang range bounded the view, but
in front a much wider and more diversified extent of country was
embraced. To the eastward, the lofty mountain of Porgyul was seen
almost to its base; its upper part a magnificent mass of snow, the
summit being upwards of 22,000 feet in height. To the north of
Porgyul, where the valley of the Piti river allowed the distant
mountains to be seen, a succession of ranges rose one beyond another,
the furthest evidently at a great distance, and covered with heavy
snow[7].
The vegetation at the summit of the ridge was even more scanty than on
the Runang pass. There was, however, more novelty in species than I
had met with there. A grass, several saxifrages, _Potentillæ_ and
_Seda_, a little _Thermopsis_, an _Anemone_, and a beautiful
_Delphinium_ (_D. Brunonianum_, Royle), were the new species observed;
and these, I believe, (as was indeed to be expected from the
minuteness with which the country had been investigated by Dr.
Royle's collectors,) were all previously described species.
[Sidenote: HANGO.
_August, 1847._]
From the pass the descent was pretty steep all the way to Hango, a
small village, elevated 11,500 feet. The road lay on the side of a
ravine, keeping the hills on the left hand, and the channel of the
stream on the right. The _Dama_, which had disappeared at the summit,
was again plentiful on the northern slope; and a shrubby species of
_Potentilla_, quite new to me, was exceedingly common. Otherwise,
little change was visible. The road was good, but the hills were dry
and stony.
The village of Hango, notwithstanding its great elevation, has a
considerable extent of cultivation, though I think the corn was less
luxuriant than at lower levels. The wheat was still green, and rather
scanty, a good deal of a wild oat (perhaps _Avena fatua_) being mixed
with it; but the barley was stronger and more productive. There was
also a number of fields of _Hordeum Ægiceras_, that curious awnless
monstrous barley, which seems peculiar to the higher regions of Tibet,
where it is very frequently cultivated. This grain was much further
advanced than the wheat, being nearly ripe. The arable lands of Hango
are nearly destitute of trees, a few willows being the only arboreous
vegetation. They are abundantly supplied with water, circulating in
copious rills among the different fields, which are disposed in
terraces one above another, faced by walls about three feet in height.
On the margins of the cultivation, stimulated by the moisture derived
from the irrigation, there was a very abundant growth of shrubs, and
of luxuriant herbaceous plants. The gooseberry, _Hippophaë_, and rose,
were the shrubs, and several large _Umbelliferæ_, one of which was
closely allied to the _Assafoetida_, a tall _Thalictrum_, a
yellow-flowered _Medicago_, _Verbascum Thapsus_, two species of
thistle, the common henbane, dock, mint, _Plantago_, and various
species of _Artemisia_, were the most common herbaceous plants.
[Sidenote: HANGO VALLEY.
_August, 1847._]
On the 24th of August we proceeded to Lio, a village on the right or
west bank of the Piti river. The road crosses the small stream which
runs past Hango, a little below the village, and gradually ascends the
slope of the hill on its left bank. Close to the stream there is a
bank of clayey alluvium, with stones, and traces of it may be seen at
intervals for some distance down the valley, but it is nowhere of any
great thickness. The hill along which the road lay was composed of a
cherty sandstone of a light-blue colour, often nearly white; in
fragments, and especially when pulverized, it was quite so; and being
extremely brittle, the slopes were covered with fine white dust, the
glare of which, in the bright sunshine, was very unpleasant. On this
gravelly ascent the vegetation was equally scanty, and much the same
in character as at moderate elevations on the two previous days; a
large thistle, species of _Artemisia_, _Chenopodiaceæ_, and a spinous
_Astragalus_, being the most abundant plants.
The road continued to ascend gently for about half a mile, rapidly
increasing its height above the stream, which had a considerable
slope. The next two miles were tolerably level, over a good but stony
road, at an elevation a little under 12,000 feet. A species of
_Crambe_, with a long fusiform root, smelling somewhat like a turnip,
was common along this part of the road. The young leaves of this
plant are used by the Tibetans as a pot-herb, and are said to be
well-flavoured. A species of currant (_R. glandulosum_), with viscid,
glandular, very aromatic-smelling leaves, was also met with; its
fruit, now ripe, had a sweetish taste, but no flavour. It is a common
Tibetan species, extending on the Indus as low down as 6500 feet.
[Sidenote: THE PITI RIVER.
_August, 1847._]
An abrupt descent followed, of not less than seven or eight hundred
feet, into a wide steeply-sloping valley, descending from the north to
join that of Hango. On the surface of this hollow, the road passed
among a multitude of large angular boulders of limestone, irregularly
scattered over the surface. This limestone was much like that of the
Hangarang pass, and as it nowhere occurred _in situ_ on the road, the
boulders must have come from the hills on the upper part of the
lateral ravine. A small spring of water and a solitary willow marked
the centre of the valley, beyond which the road again ascended
slightly, till on rounding a corner, the Piti river came into view, at
the bottom of a most remarkable rocky ravine. Full in front, just
beyond the river, was a scarped rock of great height; it was of a dark
grey colour, and was traversed in every direction by immense white
veins. Round this precipice, which seemed to project beyond the
general mass, the river swept in a deep curve, of which the convexity
was towards me.
The mountains on the right bank of the river, which formed the
termination of the range on which I stood, seemed not less steep than
those opposite, for the road, instead of passing round them without
change of level, rose rapidly as it turned to the left, till it had
attained an elevation of at least 12,000 feet, at which height it
wound among precipitous rocks of hard dark slate, covered with bushes
of _Ephedra_, and scattered trees of _Juniperus excelsa_. When fairly
round the rocky projecting range, the village of Lio was discovered
more than 2000 feet below, in a narrow ravine, on the bank of a small
stream descending from the north-west, and close to its junction with
the Piti river. The descent was very abrupt, in a rocky ravine among
large boulders, partly of slate, partly of granite. This rock occurred
in thick veins in the clay-slate, most abundantly on the lower part of
the precipices which rose on the left hand during the descent.
[Sidenote: LIO.
_August, 1847._]
Lio, at an elevation of 9600 feet above the sea, is a considerable
village, with a large tract of cultivation, disposed in terraces from
three to six feet above one another. The crops of wheat and barley had
been all cut, but there were many fields of buckwheat in full flower,
and of millet (_Panicum miliaceum_) still quite green. Numerous
apricot-trees, from which the fruit had long been gathered, were
interspersed among the cultivated lands. Surrounded on all sides by
very precipitous mountains, which reflect the sun's rays, Lio appears
to enjoy a great amount of heat, and the weeds which bordered the
corn-fields were rank and abundant, and included many species which
had not been seen at the higher villages. _Salvia glutinosa_, almost
the only remaining Simla plant, burdock, sow-thistle, lucerne, and
melilot, were the commonest weeds. A little _Cuscuta_ was common on
these latter. No tree of any kind occurred in the valley, nor on the
slopes on either side. Elevation could not be the cause of this, the
height being much lower than the line of upper limit of tree
vegetation in the outer Himalaya, and the temperature of the valley,
as was evident from the kinds of grain cultivated, very much greater
than it would have been at the same level, in the more rainy climates
nearer the plains of India.
The ravine through which the Lio stream runs is narrow and rocky, and
contains a great number of transported blocks of various sizes,
scattered irregularly over the surface. Close to the village there is
a curious isolated rock, separated by the stream from the mountain
mass with which it has evidently once been connected.
[Sidenote: CROSS THE PITI RIVER.
_August, 1847._]
On the 25th of August we crossed the Piti river, a little above Lio,
and ascended to the village of Nako, on a very steep ridge, which
descended from the great mountain Porgyul. After leaving the
cultivated lands of Lio, which extend for half a mile from the upper
part of the village, we ascended the right bank of the Piti river for
nearly a mile, to a bridge, by which it is crossed. The river ran here
in an extremely narrow ravine, precipitous mountains rising on either
side. Its banks were steep, and covered with loose shingle, the
_débris_ of the precipices above. The stream is of considerable size,
but much inferior to the Sutlej where we had last observed it close at
hand, though I believe it is nearly as large as that river, at the
point of junction of the two. The Piti runs in this part of its course
with great rapidity, and is probably of considerable depth.
[Sidenote: ASCENT TO NAKO.
_August, 1847._]
The bridge was situated at a bend of the river, where the rocky banks
contract more than usual. It was similar in structure to that over the
Sutlej at Wangtu, but much smaller, and in so dilapidated a state,
that it could scarcely be expected to last another year. The ascent to
Nako was throughout steep, the difference of elevation being about
2500 feet, and the distance not more than two miles and a half. When
at a sufficient height above the narrow dell in which the Piti runs, a
good view was obtained of the mountains by which we were surrounded,
which rose on all sides in rugged precipices. The steepness of the
cliffs allowed their geological structure to be well seen. The
fundamental rock, wherever I saw it, appeared to be clay-slate,
sometimes passing into chert or quartzy sandstone. This basal rock was
everywhere traversed by innumerable veins of quartz and granite, which
exhibited no signs of parallelism, but ramified in every direction.
These veins were often of great thickness. Not unfrequently, indeed,
the mass of granite much exceeded the slaty beds between which it was
interposed; but its connection with other veins of more moderate size
rendered it evident that it had been injected into the slate.
Behind the village of Lio a thick deposit of alluvial clay was
discernible, which seemed to suggest the idea of the valley having
formerly been a lake; and at no place where I had seen these clayey
accumulations was this hypothesis so plausible, for the precipices
south of the junction of the Lio stream, rose almost perpendicularly
for more than 1000 feet above the Piti river, and approached so close
to one another, that their disruption was at least a possible
contingency.
The slopes, as we ascended, were covered with boulders of granite in
countless profusion, and the vegetation was extremely scanty,
_Ephedra_ being the most abundant plant observed. On the upper part of
the ascent the road crossed a little streamlet, which was conducted in
an artificial channel to irrigate a few fields of wheat. The margins
of this little stream, and a belt a few feet in width on both sides,
where the ground was swampy, were covered with a dense thicket of
_Hippophaë_ and rose-bushes, among which grew thickly and luxuriantly
a scandent _Clematis_, and _Rubia cordifolia_, mint, dock, and
thistles. The number of species altogether was scarcely more than a
dozen, but the brilliant green formed so delightful a contrast with
the prevailing monotony, that what in a more fertile country would
have been passed as a mere thicket of thorns, to my eyes appeared a
most beautiful grove of graceful shrubs; and I lingered in the swampy
ground, till I had traversed it repeatedly in every direction, and
completely exhausted the flora.
[Sidenote: NAKO.
_August, 1847._]
Nako is a smaller village than Lio, and from its elevation (12,000
feet) has no fruit-trees; but at the base of the cultivation, which is
extensive, there was a copse of willows and poplars. The predominant
crop was barley, now quite ripe, and being cut; the species was the
common one, not _H. Ægiceras_, but the ears were very short, and the
return must, I should think, have been very small. There was abundance
of water, which ran in every direction through the fields. The little
streamlets had a narrow belt of green on their margins, consisting of
small grasses, several gentians, and _Potentillæ_, one of which I
could not distinguish from _P. anserina_, a _Polygonum_ very like _P.
viviparum_, and, most remarkable of all, a small orchideous plant,
which seemed to be a species of _Herminium_.
[Sidenote: BUDDHIST TEMPLES.
_August, 1847._]
At Nako, we had a most satisfactory proof of the little estimation in
which the lamas, or priests of the Buddhist religion, hold their
religious buildings, the apartments furnished to us in the village
being the different parts of the temple, surrounded with full-sized
figures of the different incarnations of Buddha, in sitting posture,
each with his hands in the position which is conventionally used to
indicate the individual. The remarkable forms and system of the
Buddhist religion, as practised in Kunawar and Ladak, have been so
often and accurately described, that it would be useless for me to
attempt to give any account of what I could, from want of previous
knowledge, very imperfectly understand, and from my other occupations
scarcely at all inquire into. The gradual transition, in ascending the
Sutlej, from Hinduism to Buddhism, is very remarkable, and not the
less so because it is accompanied by an equally gradual change in the
physical aspect of the inhabitants, the Hindus of the lower Sutlej
appearing to pass by insensible gradations as we advance from village
to village, till at last we arrive at a pure Tartar population. The
people of upper Piti have quite the Tartar physiognomy, the small
stature and stout build of the inhabitants of Ladak, to whom also they
closely approximate in dress. To what extent mere climatic influences
may cause these differences, and how far they depend on an
intermixture of races, I do not pretend to decide. It is impossible,
however, to avoid being struck by the coincidence between these
physical and moral changes in the human race, and the gradual
alteration in the forms of the vegetable world, which are observable
as we advance from a wet to a dry climate.
[Sidenote: PORGYUL
_August, 1847._]
From Nako we proceeded, on the 26th of August, nearly due north, to
Chango, about ten miles up the Piti valley. Nako is situated on the
shoulder of the great mountain Porgyul, which rises to a height of
10,000 feet above that village, and Chango is at the very extremity of
a long spur given off by that mountain further east: it is therefore
separated from the Nako spur by a valley of considerable size, which
descends abruptly towards the Piti river. Our road lay in a long sweep
round the deep bay formed by this valley, at an elevation not lower
than that of Nako, crossing in the most receding part a foaming
torrent which descends from the perpetual snows of the mountain
behind. Half a mile from Nako, and scarcely lower than that place, is
a patch of cultivation, watered, as I was surprised to find, by a
conduit brought more than a mile along the side of the hill from the
stream which occupies the mid-valley; the water of which was collected
into several ponds, one above another, in which it was kept in reserve
till required for irrigation. The crops cultivated were buckwheat and
a species of _Brassica_, both in flower. A number of poplars and
willows were planted along the stream, but no fruit-trees.
[Sidenote: ANGULAR BOULDERS.
_August, 1847._]
Beyond this cultivated tract, the road, till we reached Chango, was
entirely barren. For several miles we continued to pass through a most
extraordinary accumulation of transported blocks, scattered
irregularly on the gently sloping sides of the mountains. They
covered a very large area, and occurred in such almost incredible
profusion, that the road seemed to lie in a hollow among fragments of
rock on all sides. They were all angular; and at so considerable an
elevation as 12,000 feet, I have now no hesitation in referring them
to glacier action. The rock _in situ_ was clay-slate, with copious
granite veins, and the boulders were in general the same. In one
place, however, a dark mica-slate, with large crystals of cyanite, was
the predominating rock of the erratic blocks, which no doubt might
have been traced to its source in the ravine above, as I nowhere saw
it _in situ_ during the day.
After passing the torrent which occupies the centre of the valley, the
road very gradually approaches the Piti river, from which it had at
first receded considerably. We could now observe that the mountains
which overhung the river in this part of its course were much less
precipitous, and the valley wider and more open, than around Lio.
Alluvial beds of great thickness everywhere rested on the ancient
rocks, assuming the most diversified forms, but in general thicker and
higher on the sides of the hills, at some distance from the river,
than in the centre of the valley. About a mile and a half from Chango,
the road began to descend rather rapidly along a dry water-course
filled with huge boulders. It then crossed a stream, which had cut for
itself a very deep channel through the alluvial conglomerate, and
ascended slightly to the village of Chango. Close to the last stream
was a bed of very fine clay, which had a thickness of at least
twenty-five feet, and did not appear to contain any stones, pebbles,
or fragments of rock. This clay had quite a different appearance from
the alluvial conglomerate, which covered it, without appearing to pass
into it. It occurred extensively in several places in the
neighbourhood of Chango, and had entirely the appearance of having
been deposited in a very tranquil lake, while the alluvium which
rested upon it, and, therefore, was of more recent formation,
contained so many fragments of rock, all seemingly angular, that its
origin could scarcely be assigned to deposition under water, unless
under some very peculiar circumstances.
[Sidenote: CHANGO.
_August, 1847._]
Chango is situated in the middle of an open, nearly level tract of
considerable size, which slopes very gently towards the Piti river.
The cultivation is extensive, water being more than usually abundant,
so that much of the ground is swampy from its waste, and covered with
tufts of a small _Iris_ and a species of _Equisetum_. The barley had
been all cut, as well as the beans, which are here grown to some
extent. Buckwheat and rape-seed (a species of _Brassica_) were still
in flower, and the millet quite green. Apricot-trees were still
common, though the elevation of Chango is about 10,500 feet. The
village lies nearly opposite to Shialkar, but separated from it by the
Piti river, which, at the bridge of that place, is elevated exactly
10,000 feet above the level of the sea.
[Sidenote: ZUNGSAM RIVER.
_August, 1847._]
A little way above Shialkar and Chango, two very considerable rivers
unite to form the Piti river. The larger of these, descending from the
north-west, is known by the same name. The other, which flows from the
north-east, may be called the Parang river, by which name it is known
in the upper part of its course; lower down, it seems to be usually
called Zungsam. The direct road from Hangarang to the Indus lies up
this river, which unfortunately flows for several days' journey
through districts which are included within the Chinese frontier. It
was our wish to proceed by the most expeditious route, and at the same
time that nearest the line of boundary, to Hanle. It was, therefore,
our object to effect, if possible, a passage up the Zungsam river,
though, as we knew that Captain Gerard and M. Jacquemont had both been
stopped upon the frontier, we had no reason to anticipate any more
favourable result.
We therefore took, on leaving Chango, a north-easterly direction,
proceeding, on the 27th of August, to a village on the left bank of
the Parang or Zungsam river, called Changar, the same place which, by
Gerard and Jacquemont, is named Changrezing. Leaving the cultivated
lands of Chango, and crossing the stream which skirts the plain, we
immediately commenced a steep zigzag ascent over a barren shingly
road, to the heights which overhang the village to the north-east.
After a very fatiguing climb of not less than 1300 feet, we attained
the summit of the ridge, and advanced along it for some distance
without much change of level, but still gradually ascending among
low-topped gravelly hills. A very steep ascent followed to the summit
of the pass, which was called Changrang La[8], and could not be much
under 13,000 feet. The whole ascent was extremely barren, the arid
slopes producing a minimum of vegetation. A fleshy Cruciferous plant,
with a strong pungent taste not unlike horse-radish (_Christolea_ of
Decaisne in Jacquemont), a fine _Nepeta_ (_N. floccosa_, Benth.), and
a little _Stipa_, were the only novelties; and these, with the
_Ephedra_, a little _Lactuca_, an aromatic species of _Chenopodium_
(_C. Botrys_), the Tibetan _Euphorbia_, and a shrubby white-flowered
spinous _Astragalus_, were almost all the plants observed.
[Sidenote: CHANGAR.
_August, 1847._]
From the summit of the pass, the road descended abruptly into a deep
ravine, which originated in a snowy mountain to the south. At the
bottom of this ravine, between rocky precipitous banks, ran a
considerable torrent, which was crossed by a very frail wooden bridge.
Immediately after crossing, the road began to ascend rapidly, rising
to an elevation only a few hundred feet lower than the pass from which
we had descended, after which, half a mile of nearly level road
brought us to our camp at Changar, a small village on a stony hill, of
which only one house seemed habitable. A few fields of barley, not yet
ripe, separated our tents from the village; these were irrigated by a
small streamlet, whose source was a spring on the rocky hill-side a
few hundred yards off, shaded by a few rose-bushes and a small clump
of juniper-trees.
We remained one day stationary at Changar, to complete some
arrangements which were required previous to our leaving the district
of Hangarang; and on the 29th we proceeded to ascend the valley of the
Zungsam river, intending, if no obstacles were offered, to follow its
course and the regular road to Hanle; but in case of obstruction,
which there was every reason to apprehend, to adopt the plan which had
been already followed both by Gerard and Jacquemont, of crossing the
river, encamping on its north bank, and proceeding in a westerly
direction along the course of the Piti river to the Parang pass, in
which direction we could effect a passage to Hanle without the
necessity of entering on the territories under Chinese control.
[Sidenote: BLACK CURRANT.
_August, 1847._]
Our road, for about three miles, was undulating, with rather a
tendency to descend, but without any abrupt change of level. It lay
along the gently sloping side of the ridge, and crossed a good many
little ravines. To the right was the crest of the ridge; to the left,
the valley of the Zungsam river, which was nearly 2000 feet below, the
slope being very precipitous. In many of the ravines, where there was
a stream of water, there was a dense jungle of shrubs, which
contrasted strongly with the barrenness of the hills. A willow, rose,
_Lonicera_, a shrubby _Astragalus_, an _Artemisia_, a _Potentilla_ of
large size, and a black currant, closely resembling that of our
gardens, were the principal shrubs; and the herbaceous vegetation was
the same as in similar places since entering the Tibetan region. The
currant, which occurred here for the first time, was quite a new
species: its ripe fruit was quite black, and had the size and flavour
of the common black currant, with, however, a considerable degree of
acidity.
About three miles from Changar, an abrupt descent led from the
platform on which we had been travelling, to the level of the banks of
the river, more than 1000 feet lower. The path by which we descended
was steep, rocky, and difficult. The rock was still clay-slate, with
granite veins. The granite in general very much exceeded in quantity
the rock into which it had been injected, as was well seen on several
precipitous cliffs along the course of the stream, in which the
stratification of the slaty rock and the ramifications of the granite
could be examined in detail. The banks of the river were adorned with
a species of _Myricaria_, a small tree, with very delicate graceful
foliage and beautiful rose-coloured flowers.
[Sidenote: CHINESE FRONTIER.
_August, 1847._]
On reaching the small streamlet which forms the frontier of the
Chinese dominions, we found, as indeed we expected, that there was no
intention of permitting us to proceed by the direct road to Hanle; and
all arguments to induce a compliance with our wish proving
ineffectual, we agreed to take the route up the Piti river by Dankar,
and were then permitted to proceed about a mile, to the village of
Kyuri, where we encamped for the day. I have now no doubt that if we
had resolutely advanced, no serious opposition to our progress would
have been made; but our instructions were so precise that we should
not have been justified in using the smallest degree of force, or
incurring any risk of a collision.
To reach Kyuri[9], we crossed the Zungsam river by a very remarkable
natural bridge, composed of an enormous block of granite, which has in
some way been placed across the stream, at a spot where it is much
contracted in width, flowing in a deep rocky fissure from fifteen to
twenty-five feet in width, evidently of great depth. At this point a
considerable number of boulders of large size are piled on both banks,
of which the one that spans the channel is eighty-five feet in length
and probably not less than forty in width and twenty in depth; it is
placed obliquely across the stream, its left or southern extremity
being lower, and inclined at so considerable an angle that the passage
is one of some difficulty for horses and loaded cattle, though for
men, with ordinary care, it is quite easy. The higher end is so much
elevated above the surface on which it rests, that a rudely
constructed stair of stones is necessary to enable travellers to
descend.
[Sidenote: KYURI.
_August, 1847._]
Our encamping ground at Kyuri was on a gently sloping barren plain,
seven or eight hundred feet above the valley of the Zungsam, and was
reached by a short steep ascent from the bridge. There was no
cultivation; but about a mile to the east, a long sloping tract of
alluvium interposed between the mountains and the river was covered
with green fields, though it had only two houses and not a single
tree. Alluvium abounded in every direction, forming steep sloping
banks, often much worn away by running water, and occasionally from
two to three hundred feet in thickness. The plain on which we were
encamped was also of recent origin; it consisted of a fine clay,
curiously worn into cliffs and narrow ridges. A few layers of fine
sand were included in the clay, and by a careful search I found three
or four small fresh-water shells in the clay, belonging to at least
two species--one a _Lymnæa_, the other a _Planorbis_. The shells were,
however, very scarce, and all found near one spot, nor did any other
portion of the deposit seem fossiliferous. The clay was in front of
and below our encampment, and was covered by coarse alluvial
conglomerate.
[Sidenote: THE ROAD REJOINS
THE PITI VALLEY.
_August, 1847._]
The road up the valley of the Parang river being tabooed to us by the
jealousy of the Chinese Government, it became necessary to make a very
considerable _détour_, no practicable road being known in the
mountains north of Piti, between that which we were thus prevented
from following, and the Parang pass, to reach which we had to make
five or six marches up the Piti river before turning to the north. On
leaving Kyuri, on the 30th of August, we ascended gently on a bare
gravelly hill for several hundred feet, and then proceeded for two
miles to the westward, along the steep side of the mountain. The road
was rocky and very barren, the caper and an _Astragalus_ being almost
the only plants seen. We then descended rapidly, so as to reach the
bank of the Piti river, at the place where it makes its great bend and
assumes a southerly direction. Here it is joined by the Giu (Gumdo of
Jacquemont), a considerable stream, which has its source in the lofty
and inaccessible range to the north. This torrent had excavated a deep
channel in the alluvial beds, which were composed of alternations of
coarse incoherent conglomerate and fine clay. In this ravine, which
sheltered them from the bleak winds of the more exposed slopes, I
found a luxuriant growth of shrubs; of which the commonest forms were
the rose, ash, _Colutea_, _Rhamnus_, _Myricaria_, _Capparis_,
_Ephedra_, and _Artemisiæ_. As soon as the stream was passed, a steep
ascent commenced, but the luxuriant vegetation at once disappeared,
and the road was as barren, dusty, and stony as usual. We ascended
only to descend again, and encamped on a small level spot forty or
fifty feet above the Piti river, destitute of cultivation or
inhabitants, but known to the people of the district by the name of
Huling.
On our next day's journey, the country at first presented the same
general character. The mountains along the road were lofty and rugged,
and sloped steeply to the river. A mass of alluvial deposit generally
rested on their bases, and the road lay at no great distance above the
river, rising a few hundred feet to pass over the spurs, and again
descending on their western sides. The steep slopes were in several
places covered with an incrustation of hard angular breccia, with a
calcareous matrix, the origin of which I conceive to have been the
same as that of the breccia noticed in the vicinity of Sungnam. Across
the river there was a considerable tract of level ground, covered with
cultivation surrounding a small village, with a few poplar and willow
trees; but the left bank, on which we travelled, was entirely barren.
Nearly opposite this village, the bank of the river becoming steep and
precipitous, we ascended about a thousand feet, and continued at that
elevation till the difficulty was passed, after which we returned to
the river-side. At this elevation two or three springs broke out on
the steep face of the hill, and, trickling down among the rocks below,
promoted the growth of a few willows and rose-bushes, and a small
thicket of _Hippophaë_. Round the springs the ground was covered with
a slight saline exudation.
[Sidenote: LARI.
_August, 1847._]
The village of Lari, at which we encamped, is elevated 11,200 feet. It
occupies a large extent of alluvial surface, sloping at a very small
angle from the base of the mountains to the river, at a place where a
stream issued from among the mountains. The cultivated lands are
extensive, but very bare of trees when compared with the villages in
Kunawar, or even in Hangarang. One apricot-tree only could be seen in
the village lands, but there were still a few willows and poplars. The
flora of the cultivated tracts had not altered. The little _Iris_,
first seen at Chango, was very common, and the gentians, _Potentillæ_,
_Astragali_, and other small plants, were the same as had been common
since crossing the Hangarang pass; the season, however, was so far
advanced, that much of the luxuriant vegetation had withered away. The
crops of wheat and barley were quite ripe, and had been partly cut;
but a few fields of millet were still green.
[Sidenote: MOUNTAINS OF PITI.
_August, 1847._]
In the neighbourhood of Lari, the Piti valley is considerably more
open than lower down. It had, indeed, been gradually expanding since
we joined it at Lio. The mountains now recede considerably from the
river, a long sloping surface of alluvium being interposed, which is
at one time largely developed on the north side of the river, in which
case the southern spur generally projects. A little further on, the
northern mountains send down a projecting spur, and an open tract is
seen to the south. The mountains behind the alluvial platforms rise
very abruptly, and present towards the plain, steep, almost
perpendicular slopes, which, from the peculiar nature of the rock, a
very fragile slate, are covered by a steeply-sloping mass of _débris_
almost to the top. This talus, indeed, on some of the cliffs behind
Lari, seems to rise to the very summit of the ridges.
It is not easy to convey an idea in words of the mode in which these
mountains are arranged, unless it is recollected that it is an
universal rule that all mountains are ramifications of an axis, giving
off branches on both sides, and that each branch is again divided in a
similar manner, till the ultimate divisions are arrived at. All
mountainous districts are in this respect similar to one another, and
differ principally in the proportion borne by the altitude to the
superficial extent of the ranges of which they are composed. An
examination of the map will show that the axis of the range which lies
north of the Piti valley, passes through the Parang pass, and in fact
occupies the midway between the Piti and Parang rivers, terminating in
the great bend of the latter, to the east of its junction with the
Piti. The whole of this range is of great altitude, and it seems to
rise in elevation to the eastward, no passage being known further east
than the Parang pass. The primary branches of this chain, descending
towards the Piti valley, are separated by considerable tributaries
which discharge themselves into that river. In general, these lateral
streams have, in the lower part of their course, very rugged rocky
channels, but they rise rapidly, and, at a distance of a few miles
from the main river, their ravines expand into open valleys, three or
four thousand feet above its level. The ramifications of the primary
branches are, as might be expected, in their upper part concealed
among the mountains, but those near their termination abut upon the
main valley, in a series of ridges separated by little streamlets. We
have, therefore, as we ascend the Piti river, not a wall of mountain,
parallel to its course, but a succession of ridges, more or less
perpendicular to it, all descending from a great elevation, and
rapidly diminishing in height. The result is necessarily a great
degree of irregularity, the width of the alluvial belt varying much,
while the direction of the ridges, and of the cliffs by which they are
bounded, is constantly changing.
[Sidenote: ALLUVIAL PLATFORMS.
_September, 1847._]
Leaving Lari on the 1st of September, we continued our journey up the
Piti valley. The road lay partly on the platforms of alluvial
conglomerate, and partly over the steep shingly talus which rested on
the hills where they were not separated by alluvium from the river.
One alluvial plain, about two miles from Lari, was well cultivated
with the usual crops, the barley being quite ripe, the wheat very
nearly so, the oil-seed and buckwheat out of flower, and the millet,
of which there were only a few fields, still green. The platforms of
alluvium have, in general, an irregularly triangular form, the base
resting on the river, the apex at the termination of a mountain
ravine, down which a stream runs. This stream, instead of bisecting
the platform, usually runs in a hollow channel on one side or other
between the mountains and the alluvium, and is, where practicable,
carried off in small artificial conduits for the purposes of
irrigation. The platforms always slope gently from their apex to the
river, and they are generally cut off in a cliff at the lower end.
These cliffs always show marks of stratification, sensibly parallel to
the river, and the pebbles which the alluvium contains, are (and have
been for the last two days) usually rounded.
I ought not to omit to mention, that I use the word _alluvium_ merely
as a convenient mode of expression, without meaning to convey an idea
of the mode in which these beds originate. No equally suitable word
suggests itself, and the phenomena occur so frequently, that it is
necessary to have some short expression by which to describe them. The
origin of these alluvia is certainly very puzzling. At first sight, in
any particular spot, the most natural suggestion is, that they have
been deposited under water, and probably therefore in a lake. Their
occurrence day after day, notwithstanding the greatest changes of
altitude, their enormous thickness in many places, and the peculiar
position in which they occur, soon dispel this idea, and throw the
observer into a maze of doubt and difficulty, at last leading him to
the conclusion, that no one cause is sufficient to explain the highly
variable phenomena which he observes, and that a lengthened series of
patient observations will be necessary before the subject can be
understood. These observations have yet to be supplied, but I believe
I shall best serve future observers, by detailing as fully as possible
the points which attracted my attention, without attempting for the
present to speculate upon the causes of the phenomena. The suggestions
which I have to offer to the reader, will be best understood when I
have detailed all the facts upon which they are founded.
It is especially necessary to distinguish between three forms of
alluvium, all of which have already occurred in Piti. These are,
first, the fine clay; secondly, the platforms, such as I have
described in the last paragraph; and thirdly, the enormous masses,
which are without any definite limits, and do not seem referable to
any present valley system.
[Sidenote: POK.
_September, 1847._]
We encamped at Pok, a large village nearly nine miles from Lari. Here
we found again an extensive alluvial platform, covered with much
cultivation; and on the mountain ravine above the village there was a
considerable grove of young juniper-trees. A week or two before, I
should have considered them as scattered trees; now they had quite the
appearance of a forest, so bare had the country been since crossing
Hangarang.
West of Pok, our journey of the 2nd of September was over the alluvial
platform, which continued for two miles beyond the cultivation of the
village, gradually contracting in width by the encroachment of
successive spurs, which at last advanced close to the river. The road
now ascended by a short steep path on the mountain-side, to a higher
level. At the base of this ascent there were a great many angular
masses of limestone, evidently transported from the valleys behind.
These fragments were very numerous, and many of them of great size.
They continued abundant during a great part of the day, but no
limestone was seen _in situ_. I have not preserved any record of the
exact position of these angular fragments with regard to the valleys
behind, but I have little doubt that they will be found to be of
glacial origin, such being certainly the case in many other similar
instances. The limestone was very compact, of a blue or grey colour,
and many of the fragments were almost full of coralline remains. I
collected many fossiliferous specimens, which were afterwards
despatched from Hanle to Simla by a messenger, on whom we thought we
could rely, but they never reached their destination[10].
[Sidenote: DANKAR.
_September, 1847._]
We encamped at Dankar, after travelling ten miles. This place is the
principal village of the Piti valley, and is 13,000 feet above the
level of the sea. The valley of the Piti is here very wide, and
divided into numerous channels, which are separated by low gravelly
islands, the whole width of the river being not less than half a mile.
Here the alluvium is very highly developed, lying in patches on the
face of the steep hills. The village of Dankar, though 1000 feet above
the river, occupies both sides of a steep ridge entirely composed of
alluvium. Nor is this its utmost limit; for several hundred feet above
the houses, similar alluvial masses occur. These beds are not,
however, continuous from these great elevations, down to the level of
the river: they rest, on the contrary, on the ancient rocks, which are
here very steep, and the clay may be seen in isolated projecting
masses, capping the most prominent ridges[11].
[Sidenote: RANGRIG.
_September, 1847._]
The village of Dankar is built on arid barren soil, but the cultivated
lands stretch from about the level of the village almost to the river,
on a very steep slope. Thickets of _Hippophaë_ were scattered among
the cultivation, where the ground was swampy; and notwithstanding the
great altitude, the exposure being favourable, the crops seemed good,
and the wild plants were more luxuriant than usual. One of the new
species observed was a pretty gentian (_G. Moorcroftiana_, Wall.),
interesting as having been one of the few plants sent from the Tibetan
country by the unfortunate traveller whose name it bears. It is also a
common species in the valley of Dras, in which, perhaps, Mr.
Moorcroft's specimens were collected, unless, indeed, they were
obtained in Piti by Mr. Trebeck, during his journey to that valley
from Ladak.
Leaving Dankar on the morning of the 3rd of September, we ascended the
heights behind the village to the side of the main ridge behind, along
which we proceeded without change of level. The mountain was almost
precipitous, and extremely barren, but commanded a fine view of the
open flat plain of the Piti river, descending from the north-west; and
of the course of the Pin, a large tributary which descends from the
south-west, at the source of which there is a pass, by which it is
possible to descend upon the Sutlej at Wangtu. The mountain range
interposed between the Sutlej and Piti valleys was, from the elevation
at which we now stood, seen to great advantage. These mountains are,
indeed, in the terse words of Jacquemont, "d'une affreuse stérilité;"
yet, in their varied outline, massive forms, and snow-sprinkled
summits, there is no doubt a degree of grandeur, which produces a
powerful impression.
At about a mile and a half from Dankar, during which we had, with the
ridge, gradually approached the river, the road began to descend, and
we at last reached the bank of the river, close to which, and
sometimes even on its gravelly bed, we continued for several miles.
Where the banks were lowest, and the gravel was moist, there were
thickets of low shrubs, _Hippophaë_, _Myricaria_, _Ribes_, and willow;
elsewhere, the gravel was barren and unproductive. We encamped at
Lara, a village nine miles from Dankar, at which there were only two
poplar trees, and a very small extent of arable ground. The wheat was
ripe and very luxuriant, the ears being large and well filled.
On the 4th of September, we continued our progress up the Piti valley,
which had quite the same aspect as on the day before, encamping on the
left bank of the river, opposite to the village of Rangrig, on a
desert spot among limestone rocks, at an elevation of 12,300 feet.
Here we had attained our furthest limit in a north-westerly direction,
our road now turning to the right, and ascending a considerable valley
towards the Parang pass, in a direction which promised much novelty
and interest, as it had only been traversed by one traveller, the
unfortunate Trebeck, who, in the year 1822, travelled from Le to
Dankar by this route. The further course of the Piti river, which, as
we learn from Moorcroft's travels, was visited in 1822 by Captain
Mercer, was afterwards surveyed by Captain Broome. It communicates
with Lahul, which is the upper part of the valley of the Chandrabhaga
or Chenab river, by the Kulzum pass, a depression in that great branch
of the trans-Sutlej Himalaya, by which the waters of the Sutlej and
its tributaries on the east, are separated from those of the Chenab
and Beas.
During our journey through the district of Piti, the weather had been
almost uniformly dry and serene, though we were now in the very height
of the Indian rainy season. The only exception occurred while we were
encamped at Changar, on the lower part of the Parang river, about the
29th of August, when the sky was for two days very cloudy, and on one
night it rained gently for nearly half an hour. The clouds were,
however, high, and never dense, and the unsettled state of the
atmosphere was of very short continuance. While it lasted, it was
accompanied by violent wind, very irregular in direction.
[Sidenote: SALINE INCRUSTATIONS.
_September, 1847._]
In every part of Piti we found the margins of springs, and the grassy
turf which grew on low swampy spots along the river, covered with a
saline incrustation, in the form of a dry efflorescence, which
encrusted the blades of grass. It appeared to be confined to the
vicinity of water, the barren rocky tracts being destitute of it. This
saline matter, as elsewhere in Tibet, consists of sesquicarbonate of
soda, and, as a consequence of the abundance of that alkali,
soda-producing plants were common, especially _Chenopodiaceæ_, among
which the common _Salsola Kali_ was very abundant.
[Sidenote: PITI.
_September, 1847._]
The district of Piti, which was formerly almost independent, but paid
tribute to, or exchanged presents with, all the Tibetan countries in
its neighbourhood, namely, with Garu, Ladak, and Lahul, as well as
with Kunawar, followed in 1846 the fortunes of Lahul in being
transferred to British rule. It is a very thinly populated valley, the
villages being small and distant, and the arable tracts of no great
extent. The mountains on its southern border, by which it is separated
from Kunawar, are so very elevated that they entirely intercept all
access of humidity from the districts to the northward of them, and
render the climate entirely rainless. The houses are in consequence
very generally built of unburnt bricks, made of the fine lacustrine
clay so common in the valleys, and their flat roofs are thickly
covered with a layer of the same material.
FOOTNOTES:
[7] The distant snowy mountains seen from the top of the Hangarang
pass are probably those due north of Zungsam and east of the Parang
pass, which Major Cunningham, from some angles obtained on our
journey, estimated (I believe, but quote from memory) at nearly 24,000
feet.
[8] La, in Western Tibet, seems to mean always a _pass_. To the
eastward it is often translated _mountain_.
[9] Jacquemont writes this name _Khiri_. I follow the orthography
which I find in my notes made at the time.
[10] This limestone will, I believe, turn out to be the counterpart of
the limestones of Silurian age, which form one of the most interesting
results of the labours of Captain R. Strachey, in Kumaon and Garhwal.
[11] A very excellent sketch of the fort and village of Dankar, by Mr.
Trebeck, is given in Moorcroft's Travels, in which the appearance and
position of the alluvial masses is well represented.