Leave Valley of Piti river -- Kibar -- Cultivation above 14,000
feet -- Vegetation of mountains -- Rocky gorge -- Encampment at
17,000 feet -- Parang Pass -- Snow-bed and glacier -- First
plants at 16,500 feet -- Parang valley -- Gorge leading to
Chumoreri Lake -- Kiang, or wild horse -- Chumurti --
Remarkable grassy plain -- Lanak Pass -- Granite boulders --
Plants above 18,000 feet -- Undulating hilly country -- Hanle
plain -- Vegetation -- Monastery of Hanle.
Our last occupation in the valley of the Piti river was to make the
necessary arrangements for the transport of our baggage through the
deserts which were to be traversed before we should again arrive at
inhabited tracts. The principal part of our effects were carried by
men, but our party was so large that it was not easy to provide
porters for the necessary amount of food during a journey of a week in
an uninhabited country. A motley group of ponies, asses, and yaks
therefore formed part of the train which accompanied us into the
desert country between Piti and the Indus.
Three miles north-west of our encamping ground opposite Rangrig, we
left the Piti river on the morning of the 5th of September, turning up
the valley of a considerable stream which here joined the main river.
The platform of alluvium on which we had been travelling continued
for about half a mile up the lateral valley, and was covered with
large boulders of angular fragments. The rock was limestone, the same
as had occurred everywhere since leaving Lara. A little village called
Ki, and a large monastery, situated on a curious, seemingly isolated,
conical hill above the village, were passed on the right hand. Soon
after, the ascent became rapid on a steep ridge to the east of the
stream, and the Piti valley was completely shut out from view as we
got in among the mountains. The ridge by which we ascended was barren
and stony, and produced little vegetation. A curious broad-leaved
_Allium_ was the only novelty. We continued to ascend along the stream
till we reached the village of Kibar, at which we encamped, at an
elevation of 13,800 feet, in a narrow valley surrounded on all sides
by lofty mountains.
[Sidenote: KIBAR.
_September, 1847._]
Kibar is rather a pleasing-looking village, remarkable for its houses
being all built of stone, instead of the mud or unburnt brick so
commonly used in the valley of Piti. It is situated on the summit of a
limestone rock, on the right bank of the stream. Our tents were on a
patch of green-sward on the opposite bank, separated from the village
by a deep ravine. Crossing this on the morning of the 6th, we ascended
the slope of the hill above the village, among cultivation which rose
on the hill-side fully 300 feet higher. Except one field of oil-seed,
the crops were all barley, which was ripe, and partly cut: it was
apparently very poor, being thin and deficient in ear. After leaving
the cultivation, we continued to ascend on the ridge, till we attained
an elevation of nearly 15,000 feet, at which height the road wound
round the sides of hills, without any considerable change of level,
for two or three miles. It was still early morning, and the air was
very frosty. Every little rill was covered with a thick coating of
ice, and some small swamps which we passed were crisp with frost.
[Sidenote: VEGETATION.
_September, 1847._]
Notwithstanding the considerable elevation, I noticed but little in
the vegetation different from that common in Piti. The forms were by
no means so alpine as on the passes between Kunawar and Hangarang,
though the elevation was greater than on any of these. It was probably
owing to the aridity of the climate that the flora, at elevations of
15,000 feet, instead of being composed of delicate alpine plants, was
much the same as it had been 4000 feet lower. The rose, the common
_Rhamnus_ of Piti, a little shrubby _Potentilla_, a spinous
_Astragalus_, and several _Artemisiæ_, were the common shrubs, and two
species of rhubarb grew abundantly on the dry hills above Kibar. The
_Dama_, which shuns the level country, the _Allium_ first observed the
day before, and _Lamium rhomboideum_ of the Hangarang pass, were
almost the only striking plants observed; all the others were those of
the ordinary flora of the dry hills and gravelly plains of the Piti
valley. It is necessary, of course, in comparing this vegetation with
that of the passes, to recollect that we were here in a valley, on
slopes surrounded on all sides by lofty ridges, not on the summit of a
range overlooking everything around, or only surpassed a very little
by the continuation of the same ridge; so that the temperature of the
summer months must be considerably higher than on the more exposed
though less elevated passes.
[Sidenote: ROCKY GORGE.
_September, 1847._]
Further on, the road descended rapidly to the stream, which flowed in
a rocky gorge, through which we held our course for three miles. A few
willows, and stunted shrubs of _Myricaria_, occurred on the descent,
and the willow was found occasionally on the banks of the stream in
the gorge, which was enclosed by high and steep limestone rocks on
both sides. These gradually contracted as we advanced, but again
expanded at the point where we encamped, which was close to the bank
of the stream. The ravine being now more open, we could see the hills
to better advantage, and were struck with astonishment at the
desolation by which we were surrounded. We were, in truth, in a
wilderness of rocks, which to the south closed together, so as to shut
in the ravine by which we had ascended. High walls of cliffs rose on
either hand to an elevation of at least 1500 feet, displaying a
natural section of a multitude of strata, which seemed to be repeated
again and again in a succession of beds of limestone and slate. The
elevation of our encampment was 14,800 feet.
On the 7th of September, the wish of our guides and porters according
with our own, we did not cross the Parang pass, which was still five
miles distant, and nearly 4000 feet above us, but contented ourselves
by ascending to the highest water, perhaps 1500 feet below the summit.
We ascended on a steep shingly ridge to the right of the stream where
we had passed the night. Tufts of _Lamium rhomboideum_ grew among the
loose shingle, but no other plant seemed to vegetate in such an
ungenial soil. When we had passed from the shingle, which was confined
to the base of the ascent, the ridge was dry and gravelly, with tufts
of _Dama_ and of a species of nettle. Above 16,500 feet, the spur was
rocky and uneven, and some alpine vegetation was observed, for which I
conjecture that the melting of the snow had probably supplied
moisture, as lower down the sterility had been complete. About fifteen
species were collected, two _Potentillæ_, _Biebersteinia odora_, a
_Lychnis_, a little tufted saxifrage, and species of _Nepeta_,
_Artemisia_, _Gnaphalium_, _Saussurea_, _Allardia_, _Polygonum_,
_Rheum_, _Blitum_, one grass, and a fern. Three or four lichens grew
on the stones, and I obtained one specimen of a moss without
fructification. The _Allardia_, a pretty little rose-coloured flower,
with an agreeable smell, was the only new species; all the others were
already familiar to me. They grew in the crevices of the rocks, in
extremely small quantity, struggling as it were for existence against
the unfavourable circumstances to which they were exposed.
[Sidenote: ASCENT TOWARDS
THE PARANG PASS.
_September, 1847._]
A stony ravine, elevated about 17,000 feet, was the place selected for
our encampment. A small stream, supplied by a patch of snow a little
way above, trickled down under the angular gravel. The ascent had been
extremely fatiguing, because almost without intermission, and we were
glad of rest on reaching that elevation. During the day, however, I
ascended a ridge of rugged rocks, which rose above our tents to a
height of more than 500 feet, being desirous of ascertaining to what
elevation I should find vegetation. An _Alsine_ was common among the
gravel, with two small plants which were not in a determinable state;
and on the rocks, to the highest level to which I succeeded in
ascending (probably 17,600 feet), the little _Allardia_ continued to
occur occasionally. The ridge afforded a good view of the mountains
round. The range to the north, which we had still to cross, lay in a
semicircle behind; to the east was the continuation of the ridge by
which we ascended; and a deep hollow lay to the west. Rugged rock
everywhere met the view. The slates which alternated with the
limestone were so very brittle that they everywhere formed piles of
angular fragments, which filled all the hollows, and formed a sloping
talus against every precipice. The view was one not to be forgotten,
its desolation far surpassing any conception of waste and utter
barrenness which I could have formed.
During the whole day I was never free from a dull headache, evidently
caused by the great elevation. Rest relieved it, but the least
exertion brought it back again. It continued all evening, as long as I
was awake, and still remained in the morning of the 8th, when I rose
soon after daybreak to prepare for the journey. A few paces took us
beyond the shingly ravine in which we had been encamped, and the
remainder of the ascent was throughout over loose angular fragments,
the _débris_ of the cliffs on the right. Under the latter we passed,
winding round the side of the semicircular bay, till we got to about
its centre, when the ascent became excessively steep and toilsome. The
exertion of raising the body was very fatiguing, and the last few
hundred yards were only accomplished after many pauses. A few large
patches of snow lay in hollows along the road; but up to the very
crest of the pass there was no trace of perpetual snow, nor even any
continuous snow-bed.
[Sidenote: THE PARANG PASS.
_September, 1847._]
The summit of the Parang pass is a narrow ridge, covered with large
blocks of stone. To the north lay a large field of snow, sloping
downwards at a very gentle angle. In this direction the view was
limited within two miles by steep rugged mountains, which closed in on
both sides. To the right and left also, the pass was overlooked by
ridges close at hand. The only direction in which a distant view was
obtained was south, where the mountains beyond the Piti river were
beautifully seen: from the great elevation at which we stood, their
summits were everywhere in view; their elevation was surprisingly
uniform, and the whole range was capped with snow. The mountains close
at hand presented much the same appearance as I had seen from the
rocks above our encampment the day before.
[Sidenote: GLACIER.
_September, 1847._]
I reached the summit of the pass, which has an elevation of 18,500
feet, at a quarter before eight in the morning. At that time the
temperature was 28°; and a cold southerly wind blew with considerable
violence, making us seek the shelter of the blocks which lay around. A
small red lichen, (_Lecanora miniata_,) on the fragments of rock, was
the only vegetable production I observed. After an hour's rest, we
commenced the descent over the snow-bed, proceeding towards a gap
which was visible in the mountains. The snow was hard frozen, and
crisp under the feet. Descending steadily without any fatigue, we were
soon evidently on a snow-covered glacier. A few fissures were passed,
but mostly not above a few inches wide, and none that we could not
with ease step over, the widest not exceeding two feet. At a distance
of about a mile and a half from the crest, the mountains, which on
both sides surrounded the snow-bed in the form of a circle, had so
much approached to one another, that they formed a narrow valley,
down which the snowy mass continued in the form of a rugged glacier.
We now left the surface of the ice, and proceeded along the stony side
of the ravine, with the glacier on our left hand, and steep limestone
rocks on our right. Blocks of limestone strewed our path as we
descended, and numerous small fragments of the same rock covered the
edge of the glacier.
About three miles from the summit of the pass the glacier terminated
abruptly in a bluff precipice, the height of which was more than 100
feet. Little rills of water were, at the time we passed (9½ A.M.),
trickling from every part of the surface, and a small streamlet ran
along the edge of the glacier under an arch of ice. The structure was
here very evident: broad white bands, and narrower ones of a dirty
colour, from the earthy matter which they had absorbed, ran parallel
to the slope of the ravine, the arches or loops (so well explained by
Professor Forbes in his delightful work on the glaciers of the Alps)
being drawn out to a great length.
At the termination of the glacier, we descended from the steep
mountain-side, along which we had hitherto travelled, to the flat
plain, the continuation of the surface on which the glacier rested. On
this descent the first vegetation appeared at an elevation of about
16,500 feet. Two small grasses, _Biebersteinia odora_, a _Lychnis_,
and a little villous _Astragalus_, were the plants observed: they grew
in the crevices of the rock, and scarcely rose above the ground. None
of the species were different from those collected in the mountains of
Piti.
[Sidenote: THE PARANG VALLEY.
ITS VEGETATION.
_September, 1847._]
When we had reached the middle of the valley, so as to be exactly in
face of the glacier, we found that a large stream issued from a
vaulted cavity at its termination. For some hundred feet the stream
ran among large masses of ice, as if the glacier had very recently
extended further, and had melted away irregularly, leaving these
masses standing. Leaving the glacier, we still followed the valley,
which was confined on both sides by steep cliffs. We kept close to the
stream, walking over its gravelly bed, and I collected a few more
plants as I descended; none, however, new to me. A little _Nepeta_,
four species of _Potentilla_, a _Gnaphalium_, several grasses and
_Carices_, and a very small fern, were the species. About three miles
from the end of the glacier we found our tents pitched on a small
plain, connected with a lateral ravine, and covered with tufts of
_Dama_, and a little species of _Alsine_ in flat tufts, which was
quite new to me. The elevation of our encampment was 16,000 feet.
We followed the course of the valley into which we had thus descended,
for three days, without meeting with any inhabitants, and through so
uniform a country, that it is unnecessary to detail each day's
journey. Rugged and rocky mountains, of moderate elevation,
principally limestone, bounded the view on both sides. In front we
seldom saw more than a few miles; and behind, the view was in general
equally limited, though occasionally we could see, up a lateral
valley, the peak of a snowy mountain. The valley was almost invariably
wide and level, once or twice only interrupted by projecting ridges of
low rocks advancing to its centre. Low platforms of alluvium, like
those of Piti, occupied the wider parts, their upper angles resting
(as in Piti) on the opening of lateral ravines, while their bases were
cut into cliffs by the stream.
During these three days we descended from 16,000 to about 14,800 feet.
The surrounding mountains were quite barren and desolate. The gravelly
plains were covered with tufts of _Dama_ and of the curious tufted
_Alsine_, which formed dense flattened hassock-like masses, of
considerable size. The soil was very saline, and as we descended it
gradually became more so. In the earlier part of the descent, the
alpine forms were the same as those to the south of the Parang pass,
and the plants were few in number and much scattered. Lower down,
however, more novelty was met with. A little willow was the first
shrubby plant, and was followed by _Ephedra_, _Myricaria_, and
_Hippophaë_, all much stunted. Still lower there were large patches of
green-sward along the stream, generally swampy, and always covered
with a saline incrustation. _Artemisiæ_, _Astragali_, _Gentianæ_, and
_Potentillæ_, were the commonest forms, with a number of saline
plants, chiefly _Chenopodiaceæ_, which abounded on the lowest spots.
On the 11th, the last of these three days, the vegetation had quite
lost its alpine character, notwithstanding that the elevation was
still 15,000 feet. No _Biebersteinia_ was seen, and the little species
of _Potentilla_, _Alsine_, _Saxifraga_, _Cruciferæ_, and _Parnassia_,
were no longer met with. The large _Hyoscyamus_ of Piti (_Belenia_ of
Decaisne) had made its appearance, with tall _Artemisiæ_, a
_Clematis_, a rank-growing _Corydalis_, _Cicer Soongaricum_, and other
plants in no way alpine. I was much surprised to observe so complete
a change in so moderate a descent, and very much interested to find
that the alpine flora had so completely disappeared. I regret that I
am as yet unable to give my results in more perfect form, the
necessary comparison and determination of the species collected still
remaining to be done.
[Sidenote: CHUMORERI.
_September, 1847._]
During our descent we had gradually taken a more easterly course, and
on the 11th our direction was nearly due east. On this day we passed
the gorge in the mountains, up which the road turns to the Chumoreri
lake, by which Mr. Trebeck had travelled to and from Ladakh. This
would have been our most direct route to Le, but we were desirous of
visiting the more eastern districts, so as to reach the Indus as soon
as possible. The mountains in this gorge suddenly lowered; a wide
gravelly plain sloped gently up to a low ridge, which did not appear
to rise higher than two or three hundred feet above the level of the
Parang river. Beyond this ridge, on the assurance of our guides,
confirmed by Major Cunningham, who had on a former occasion travelled
along the Chumoreri lake as far as its southern extremity, lies the
lake, without any more considerable elevation separating it from the
Parang river.
It is much to be regretted that the late period of the season, and the
other important objects which we had to accomplish, should have
prevented us from crossing this narrow neck of land. It would probably
have thrown much light upon the question of the origin and nature of
the salt lakes, which are, as is well known, scattered over Tibet,
Central Asia, and Siberia. The Chumoreri lake has certainly no outlet,
but from the nature of the surrounding mountains, everywhere steep
and lofty, there can be no doubt that at one period its waters were
discharged at its south end by the narrow valley which we saw from the
south side of the Parang river[12]. An accurate determination of the
height of the separating ridge above the present surface of the lake,
a careful examination of the configuration of the surface at its
southern end, and an analysis of the water, which is described as
sufficiently brackish to be unpleasant though not absolutely
undrinkable, would certainly enable conclusions to be drawn as to the
nature of the cause which has lowered the level of the waters of the
lake, and so put an end to its discharge.
[Sidenote: WILD HORSE.
_September, 1847._]
In the plain which sloped gently upwards from the Parang river towards
the Chumoreri lake, we saw for the first time a Kiang, or wild horse,
but at too great a distance to enable his shape and appearance to be
distinctly made out; and the river, which was interposed between us,
prevented our approaching nearer. We afterwards frequently saw these
animals, but from their extreme wariness, and the open nature of the
country, we were never fortunate enough, notwithstanding repeated
trials, to get within gunshot distance of them. They appear to abound
at elevations between 14,000 and 16,000 feet, on the open undulating
tracts on the summits of the mountain ranges, and to avoid valleys and
rocky districts, where they would be liable to surprise.
[Sidenote: THE PARANG VALLEY.
_September, 1847._]
To the eastward of the former outlet of the lake, the valley of the
Parang river was more contracted than it had been in any previous part
of its course. Rocky hills, projecting from the southern mountains,
advanced so close to the river, that no passage was practicable along
their base, and the road several times ascended several hundred feet
to cross these ridges. This obstruction was, however, but temporary,
lasting only for a few miles, beyond which the valley expanded into a
very wide plain, extending for five or six miles in an easterly
direction, by about half that distance from north to south. The
borders of this wide expanse were very low platforms, almost
horizontal, and not more than from six to ten feet above the river.
The middle portion was a plain of gravel, scarcely higher than the
level of the stream, and evidently occasionally submerged. Here the
river bends rapidly round towards the south-east. The district at
which we had now arrived is called Chumurti, and about eight or ten
miles to the east of our encampment on the 11th of September, is a
village or assemblage of tents called Chumur, from which we obtained a
supply of porters, to relieve the party who had accompanied us from
Piti. Here also, in accordance with the instructions we had received
on leaving Simla, Captain Strachey left us, with the intention of
following the course of the Parang river, as far as he conveniently
could, and then turning to the left across one of the passes of the
great trans-Sutlej chain to the Indus. Major Cunningham and myself, on
the other hand, proposed to proceed by the direct, and equally
unknown, route to Hanle, and thence to visit the Indus, and proceed to
Le.
[Sidenote: THE PARANG RIVER.
_September, 1847._]
The Parang river, whose source is in the mountains immediately north
of the Parang pass, has, as we have seen, at first a northerly
direction, but gradually bends more and more to the eastward and
southward, and finally has a nearly south-west course, where it joins
the Piti river, nearly opposite Shialkar. Its source, as well as its
confluence with the Piti river, are within the British territory; but
the most important, because the most populous, part of its course lies
within the Chinese border. The boundary of the Chinese district runs
nearly from north-east to south-west, passing a little to the west of
Rodok, and crossing the Indus at the village of Chibra, where Mr.
Trebeck was stopped in his attempt to penetrate up the Indus; thence a
little south of Haule, and across the course of the Parang river. It
then bends more towards the south, and again crosses the Parang at the
point where we were stopped in the end of August, whence its direction
is nearly due south as far as Nilang, on the Jahnavi branch of the
Ganges.
The Parang river being a tributary of the Sutlej, by crossing the
great chain at the Parang pass we had not reached the Indus valley,
but had descended into a lateral valley still connected with the
drainage of the Sutlej. The great line of watershed between the Indus
and Sutlej lay still before us. This chain, which is the prolongation
of Kailas, must be called the trans-Sutlej Himalaya, unless the name
Himalaya be restricted to the chain south of the Sutlej, in which case
the mountains of Lahul, Kishtawar, and Kashmir, would lose their claim
to that appellation.
[Sidenote: ASCENT TOWARDS
LANAK PASS.
_September, 1847._]
Towards this chain, which we were to cross by the Lanak pass, we
commenced our journey on the morning of the 12th of September. Our
road lay across the Parang river, which flowed in several channels
among the wide expanse of gravel which here formed its bed. The
morning was bitterly cold, and the water almost icy, to the great
discomfort of our porters. The largest stream was perhaps twenty-five
feet wide and two and a half deep, with a moderately rapid current.
After crossing the river we took a northerly direction, leaving the
valley or plain of the Parang river, and ascending an open, almost
level valley, bounded by low hills. The mountains on the left, which
were interposed between our route and the Chumoreri lake, were the
most rugged in sight. In the centre of the plain was the channel of a
stream, very shingly, but without water, along which, or on alluvial
banks only a few feet higher, we gradually advanced. The level of our
camp on the Parang river had been 14,800 feet; and from this we were
now gradually but imperceptibly rising. The hills on either hand were
rounded and low, but increased in height as we receded from the Parang
river. The soil was very barren, and showed many indications of salt.
Scattered plants of _Salsola_ were common, with _Christolea_, a pretty
Cruciferous plant, with purple flowers and fleshy wedge-shaped leaves,
tasting strongly of horse-radish, which has been described by Decaisne
from specimens collected by Jacquemont in Piti. A little white
_Alyssum_, which I had not previously met with, was also very common.
Four miles from the Parang river we reached a flat grassy plain of
considerable extent, with deep black soil, in which meandered a very
slowly running stream, perhaps twelve feet wide, which seemed to have
an outlet by an open valley on our right, and to join the Parang some
miles to the east of where we left it. A great part of this plain was
swampy, the turf rising in little knolls, but round the edges and in
all the higher parts it was covered with a thick incrustation of white
efflorescent salt. To the north and east, low gently-sloping hills as
barren as ever rose from the edge of the green plain; and in the
north-east corner, close to the foot of the hills, a large fountain,
discharging copiously clear tasteless cold water, was evidently the
source of the stream which flowed over the plain. The grassy turf
produced a considerable number of plants, not a few of which were new
to me. An _Umbellifera_, an _Aster_ with large purple flowers, a
_Saussurea_, and two species of _Pedicularis_, one with white, the
other with yellow flowers, were very common, as were also a species of
_Triglochin_, a white _Juncus_, several _Carices_, and three or four
very beautiful grasses. In the shallow water of the pools scattered
over the plain, a species of alga was common, floating without
attachment. It was a broad foliaceous green plant, and has been
determined by the Rev. M. J. Berkeley to be a species of _Nostoc_,
closely allied to, if not identical with _N. commune_, a species which
occurs in all parts of the globe.
After crossing this plain, and stopping to rest by the fountain, we
began to ascend the long slopes of the hills, partly on a level ridge,
partly along the wide sloping valleys by which the low hills were
separated. Both hills and plain were frightfully arid, the aspect of
the country being of an uniform grey colour; and coarse gravel, with
scattered stones of larger size, everywhere covered the surface. The
ascent was very inconsiderable till towards the end of the day's
journey. The distance travelled was about ten miles, and we encamped
at about 15,800 feet, on the left bank of a small stream which
descended from the north, the borders of which were swampy and covered
with green turf, in which the common plants of the country occurred,
such as little gentians, _Ranunculi_, _Parnassia_, several _Polygona_
and _Potentillæ_, _Carices_, and grasses. On the west bank of the
stream was a low ridge of clay-slate rocks, while on the right and in
the valley was a heap of granite boulders; no doubt an ancient
moraine, for the fragments were piled on one another to a great
height, and rose far above the stream as well as the ordinary level of
the plain.
[Sidenote: LANAK PASS.
_September, 1847._]
On the 13th of September we crossed the Lanak pass, which lay before
us at a distance of about five miles. From our encampment the
mountains appeared easy of access and rounded in outline, and we
commenced the ascent by a nearly level walk across the gravelly plain.
After a mile and a half we rejoined the stream, and kept along it for
a little way. Its banks were green with a narrow belt of turf; and the
bed was often rocky, the rock being still clay-slate, notwithstanding
the granite boulders everywhere scattered about. The edges of the
stream were frozen, spiculæ of thin ice adhering to the herbage. The
vegetation was quite alpine, the elevation being certainly above
16,000 feet. A _Delphinium_, which seemed the same as the _D.
Brunonianum_ of the Hangarang pass, a little yellow saxifrage, and a
white-flowered species of the same genus, which I believe to be the
Scottish alpine _S. cernua_, an entire-leaved yellow _Ranunculus_, a
_Pedicularis_ with purple flowers, and some grasses, were the most
remarkable plants observed.
After a mile, we left the ravine and ascended to the open
gently-sloping ground on its left, still rising sensibly as we
advanced. The surface was, as usual, dry and gravelly, and _Oxytropis
chiliophylla_ and a little _Stipa_ were almost the only plants. We
continued nearly parallel to the ravine, and crossed it again a little
further on. It was now dry, and its steep stony banks were covered
with bushes of _Dama_. Still gradually ascending, we crossed the same
ravine a third time, where its bed was upwards of 17,000 feet. There
was again no water visible, but the ground was still moist, the
streamlet probably, as is very general in these arid regions,
trickling under the surface among the loose gravel. The little alpine
nettle, which I had first found on the northern spurs of Porgyul, near
Changar, and again on the southern face of the Parang pass, was here
common, as were two species of _Alsine_, which formed dense tufts. A
little saxifrage and the _Delphinium_ were also still observed, but
all the other plants had disappeared.
Leaving the ravine for the last time, we continued the ascent, which
became steeper as we advanced. A rounded ridge lay to our right hand,
and we rose nearer and nearer to its crest. Fragments of granite,
piled on one another in increasing numbers, covered the steep slopes.
Rock _in situ_ was only to be seen in one place; it was still
clay-slate, containing a good deal of mica. The top of the pass was
nearly level for several hundred yards, and covered with boulders,
principally of granite, but a few of quartz and of a trappean rock,
quite black and homogeneous. The outline of the mountains was
generally rounded, and they rose gradually in both directions above
the pass, which had an elevation of 18,100 feet. The view, both
towards the direction in which we had come and that in which we were
proceeding, was rather extensive, but from the prevailing uniformity
of outline and colour it was more striking than beautiful. There were
no trees or villages, no variation of surface greater than an
occasional grey rock, but everywhere the same dreary sterile
uniformity. Nothing could be seen of Lake Chumoreri, which lies at
least fifteen miles westward, and is surrounded by mountains,
everywhere (except in the direction of the former outlet) higher than
that on which we stood.
The occurrence of great accumulations of boulders, of a rock different
from that which occurs _in situ_ on the very summit of the pass, was
quite conformable to what I had observed on some of the passes between
Kunawar and Hangarang. It was not, however, on this account the less
puzzling, nor was it till I crossed the Sassar pass, in August, 1848,
that I could at all conceive in what way it was to be explained. On
this pass, as I shall afterwards relate in detail, a glacier occupies
the crest of the pass, descending from higher mountains to the north,
and presenting a bluff termination in two directions.
On the summit of the pass I collected specimens of three phenogamous
plants, probably nourished by a recently melted patch of snow; for
though there was none on the pass itself, nor on the descent on
either side, a steep mountain, half a mile to the right, in a due
northern exposure, was still covered with snow to at least five
hundred feet below the level of the pass. The small quantity of snow
seen in the distant view was very remarkable, and the more so as there
was no indication of diminished elevation; ridge rising beyond ridge,
and peak behind peak, to the utmost limits of view. The three plants
which were observed were a little _Arenaria_ or _Stellaria_, and two
Cruciferous plants, one of which only was in fruit. A red lichen, the
same as that seen on the Parang pass, covered the stones.
The descent from the Lanak pass was at first gentle, but very soon
became steep, to the bottom of a valley in which a small stream of
water was running, derived, I suppose, from some small snow-beds in a
lateral ravine out of sight, for it almost immediately disappeared
under the gravel. Soon after leaving the crest of the pass, we came
upon clay-slate rock finely laminated, and dipping south-south-west at
a high angle. The valley by which we descended gradually contracted
into a rocky ravine, at last very narrow, with high precipitous walls,
and full of large boulders. We encamped for the night at its junction
with a large stream descending in a rocky dell from the west. Around
our camp, on both sides of the stream, there was an outbreak of
greenstone, which had upheaved the clay-slate rocks.
On the 14th of September we proceeded along the stream close to which
we had encamped the day before. High mountains, whose summits could
not be seen from the bottom of the narrow ravine, rose on both sides.
The rock on both banks was clay-slate, much altered by heat, often
very hard, and with numerous quartz veins; no more greenstone was
observed. The stream, copious when we started, gradually disappeared
as the ravine widened, and water soon lay only in pools along the
gravelly bed. Boulders of granite were abundant all along. After three
miles the ravine opened into a wide gravelly plain, skirted by rounded
hills of considerable elevation, to which the alluvial platforms
sloped very gently on both sides. _Christolea_, a little shrubby
_Artemisia_, and a small _Stipa_, were the plants which grew among the
gravel.
[Sidenote: UNDULATING COUNTRY.
_September, 1847._]
After about a mile and a half, the direction of the plain trending to
the south more than was suited to our purpose, we turned to the left,
to cross the ridge which ran parallel to it on the north-east. A long
gravelly plain, sloping almost imperceptibly upwards, led us to the
summit of the ridge, which was not more than two or three hundred feet
above the plain we had left. From this pass, for such it was, though
an insignificant one, an open valley, skirted on both sides by low
rounded hills, ran to the north-east for nearly five miles. The
appearance of the country was very remarkable. The hills were all very
gentle in slope, and quite rounded in outline, so that the surface was
almost undulating. It required reflection on the fact that we were
traversing a tract in which the bottoms of the valleys were from
15,000 to 15,500 feet above the level of the sea, to make us aware of
the very mountainous nature of the country we were passing through,
which was, if any part of Tibet (which I have seen) may be so called,
the _Table Land_ north of the Himalaya. The height of the mountains,
too, was in fact greater than we had at first been inclined to
believe, the gentleness of the slopes making us think the ridges
nearer than they really were, and therefore leading to a false
estimate of their height. In general they were from 1000 to 2000 feet
in height, and their summits therefore from 16,000 to 17,000 feet
above the level of the sea.
[Sidenote: OPEN VALLEYS.
_September, 1847._]
The open valley along which we now proceeded was remarkable in another
point of view. It was quite waterless, and seemed hemmed in on both
sides by hills, so that its drainage must take place in the direction
of its long axis; at least, no lateral depression could be perceived
on either side. About a mile from its eastern end, this plain was
lower than in any other part. We had been descending along it from
west to east, and we could see that beyond that point it rose gently
to the eastward. The surface of the lowest part was covered with a
hard shining white clay, without any of the fine gravel which abounded
elsewhere. A few tufts of an _Eurotia_ were the only plant which it
produced. It was evident that the winter snows which fall on this
isolated spot, when melted in summer, finding no exit, form a small
lake, till they completely disappear by evaporation.
[Sidenote: HANLE PLAIN,
ITS VEGETATION.
_September, 1847._]
After crossing this low clayey tract, we ascended gently for nearly a
mile in an easterly direction, when the valley terminated very
abruptly and unexpectedly in a precipitous descent of four or five
hundred feet, the clay-slate rocks emerging suddenly from beneath the
gravel at the very edge of the precipice. The road descended in a
narrow gorge, which had apparently been worn by aqueous action in the
almost perpendicular cliff. On emerging from this gorge, we found
ourselves on the border of a very extensive perfectly level tract,
seemingly surrounded by hills, and approaching in shape to a circle,
though its outline, from projecting ranges of hills, was very
irregular. The margins of this plain were dry and gravelly; the
centre, as seen from a distance, was green, but in many places
encrusted with a saline efflorescence.
Skirting this plain, which lay on our right, while ranges of hills,
separated by wide gravelly valleys, occupied the left, we reached
Hanle, a Buddhist monastery inhabited by about twenty lamas, built on
the summit of a steep hill which rises abruptly out of the plain. We
encamped in a ravine at the foot of the hill on which the monastery is
built, in which the tents of the wandering population are erected when
they bring their flocks into this neighbourhood.
The plain of Hanle, which is not, I think, less than six or eight
miles in diameter, resembles very much that curious flat tract which
we passed on the 12th of September, on the south side of the Lanak
pass; it is, however, much larger in dimensions. Several streams, very
tortuous and sluggish, wind over its surface. These were frequently
three feet or more in depth, and contained multitudes of small fish,
usually about six inches in length, but growing to eight or ten inches
at least. They were a species of carp. We tried to eat them, but,
though sweet and well-tasted, the bones were so numerous and
troublesome that we relinquished the attempt. We were much interested
at the occurrence of fish at an elevation of 14,300 feet, a height at
which, _à priori_, it would scarcely have been expected that they
would have existed.
The surface of the plain was very saline, and, where not swampy,
covered with coarse grasses and _Cyperaceæ_. It was very uneven,
hummocks or knolls being scattered over the surface, which made
walking very difficult. These, I presume, were caused by the gradual
growth of plants, which, in process of time, formed heaps in spots not
covered by water during the melting of the snow in spring. In some
parts there were extensive patches of _Dama_. A species of _Elymus_
and a _Blysmus_ were very abundant. The ground in the vicinity of the
streams was swampy, and the coarse grasses of the drier parts were
replaced by little _Potentillæ_, _Glaux maritima_, _Taraxacum_,
_Aster_, and a number of Chenopodiaceous plants. In the running waters
a _Potamogeton_ and _Ranunculus aquatilis_ were plentiful. The
streams, which must, I believe, as in the case of the plain of the
12th, principally derive their supply from springs which break out on
the edge of the flat country, all converge to a point at the
north-east end of the plain, and, uniting into one, continue their
course down an open valley in a northerly direction towards the Indus.
As no section of the bed of this remarkable plain is anywhere to be
seen, it is not possible to form an estimate of the depth of its boggy
soil, or of the nature of the subjacent deposit. It can scarcely be
doubted that it has at one time been a lake, which has been gradually
silted up; but it is not easy to conjecture the length of time which
has elapsed since it became dry land, in the absence of any knowledge
of the nature and contents of the deposits which occur beneath the
surface. As an outlet for the waters of the plain exists to the
northward, we may infer that the waters of the lake were always fresh.
We remained two days at Hanle, to effect a change of porters, a matter
which cannot be accomplished in a hurry in an almost uninhabited
country, without unnecessary hardships on individuals. There is no
settled population except the monks or lamas; a few stone huts without
roofs, which were scattered about the foot of the rock, having no
tenants. To the east of the monastery, on the border of the plain,
watered by an artificial channel brought with considerable labour from
the river, we observed two or three small fields. The grain, which was
barley, had been cut and carried away, so that harvest at Hanle was
over. The view from the top of the monastery was extensive, as we
overlooked the whole plain to the south, and the valley of the Hanle
river on the east. The mountains were highest to the east, where a
very lofty, steep, and irregular range, with a good deal of snow in
some places, separated Hanle from the Indus. To the south and west,
the mountains, though high, were rounded.
The rock on which the monastery is built is wholly igneous, but varies
from a coarse-grained granite, rapidly decaying, to a dark-coloured
greenstone, with large crystals scattered through it. Close to the
foot of the hill, the clay-slate was in a few places visible,
considerably altered by igneous action, as was to be expected from its
proximity to the greenstone.
FOOTNOTES:
[12] I state these facts on the authority of Major Cunningham. Captain
H. Strachey visited this district in 1848, and will, I hope, soon make
public his observations. He has ascertained that the surface of the
lake is 15,200 feet above the level of the sea.