CHAPTER VI.

Descend Hanle river -- Unsettled weather -- Encamp on banks of

Indus -- Upper course of Indus -- Pugha ravine -- Forest of

Myricaria-trees -- Borax plain -- Hot springs -- Borax lakes of

Eastern Tibet -- Sulphur mine -- Pulokanka Pass -- Salt lake --

Lacustrine clays with shells -- Ancient water-mark -- Rupchu --

Tunglung Pass -- Fall of snow -- Alluvial conglomerate -- Giah

-- Narrow ravine -- Miru -- Upshi -- Indus valley -- Marsilang

-- Richly cultivated plain of Chashut -- Bridge over Indus --

Le -- Buddhist edifices.

On the 17th of September we left Hanle, _en route_ to Le. Our road lay

down the left bank of the river by which the waters of the lake-plain

are discharged into the Indus. The valley through which it flowed was

open and level, and its slope imperceptible. On the left lay a low

range of hills, an irregular mass increasing much in width, as well as

in height, as we proceeded northwards, the Hanle extremity being the

termination where it slopes into the plain. On the right, a very lofty

range, some of the peaks of which were certainly not less than 21,000

feet in elevation, ran parallel to our course, separating the open

valley of the Hanle river from the Indus.

[Sidenote: HANLE RIVER.

_September, 1847._]

The width of the valley varied from one to three miles. The stream was

very winding, crossing from side to side, and often pressing the road

close to the spurs of the range on the left. The range on this side

was principally clay-slate, with occasional outbreaks of trap, which

had in many places converted the stratified rock into a hard red or

green jasper. From the immediate proximity of the igneous rock the

stratified masses were very much contorted, and no regular dip was

observable.

Saline efflorescence occurred everywhere in great quantity in the

vicinity of the stream; as a consequence, Chenopodiaceous plants were

more than usually abundant, and I collected at least three species of

that family which I had not previously observed. The banks of the

stream were everywhere bordered by a belt of green herbage, more or

less broad, in which the usual species of _Ranunculus_, _Gentiana_,

_Pedicularis_, _Juncus_, _Cyperaceæ_, and grasses were common. _Glaux

maritima_ also occurred abundantly. Two other European plants were

found in the swamps along the course of the river, which were very

interesting as a proof of the extremely European nature of the flora:

these were _Hippuris vulgaris_ and _Limosella lacustris_. Towards the

end of the day's journey, _Caragana versicolor_ (_Dama_) became very

common, covering a large extent of surface, and growing to a much

greater size than I had ever before seen, with an upright stem nearly

six feet in height. I could scarcely persuade myself that the species

was the same as the little depressed shrubs which grew on the passes

further south. Two species of _Myricaria_, both of which I had seen in

Piti, also reappeared during the day, so that we were evidently

approaching a lower level and more genial climate.

Banks of alluvial conglomerate occurred on the sides of the valley,

in the spaces between the projecting spurs of the range on the left

hand, on the latter part of the day. The beds were distinctly

stratified and very sandy, more or less full of rounded stones, and

often passing into pure sand, which was interstratified with the

coarser beds. The day was very cloudy and threatening, and a few drops

of rain fell for the first time since the 29th of August, the weather

during the whole of that interval having been brilliant and quite dry.

We encamped eleven miles from Hanle, on a gravelly plain close to the

river.

Dining the night the weather did not improve, but continued very

cloudy, and on the morning of the 18th the mountains on the right side

of the valley were covered with snow, down to within 1500 feet of the

plain. The wind blew strongly from the northward, and the day, which

was still very cloudy, was bitterly cold, and, to our feelings,

extremely uncomfortable. We continued to follow the course of the

Hanle river, passing over long gravel flats, which alternated with

turfy saline meadows. Several low spurs from the mountains on the

left, which projected far into the plain, making the river bend much

to the right, were crossed as we proceeded. About ten miles from our

morning's camp, we left the course of the river, which turned to the

right and entered a rocky mountain gorge, while our road kept its

northerly direction. An open valley led us to the crest of a low ridge

of trap and slate, from which a very long stony monotonous valley

descended to an extensive plain covered with fine mud and saline

exudation, on which the only vegetation was a few tufts of _Suæda_ and

coarse grass. Crossing this plain, on which the dry clay was in many

places deeply cracked and fissured, as if it had till within a short

time been under water, or at least swampy, we encamped, at an

elevation of 13,800 feet, on the banks of the Indus, here a muddy

torpid stream, without any apparent current, about four feet deep and

twenty or twenty-five feet wide. There was, however, another channel,

separated from that on which we were encamped by a small island.

[Sidenote: RIVER INDUS.

_September, 1847._]

So sluggish was the stream at the point where we joined it, that we

were for a long time uncertain in which direction the current was

flowing; and though we were prepared to find the Indus at the end of

our day's journey, the river on whose banks we were encamped was so

much less than our anticipations, that we were very unwilling to be

convinced that we had really arrived at the great river, to which we

had so long looked forward as one of the most interesting objects of

our journey. The island in the centre of the channel was a bank of

very fine sand or mud, on which large flocks of wild-fowl were

resting; it was very little elevated above the surface of the water,

which must frequently, I should think, rise sufficiently to cover it.

The bank on which we were encamped, though rather higher, was not more

than four feet above the water; it was quite vertical, and composed of

fine clay, without any intermixture of stones or gravel.

[Sidenote: UPPER COURSE OF THE INDUS.

_September, 1847._]

The course of the river Indus, from its source to Le, has hitherto

been less known than any other part in Tibet; but as Captain Strachey,

a month or two after our visit, descended along it from the Chinese

frontier, as far as Le, the unknown portion is now very much reduced.

It rises in the mountains north of the lakes of Mansarawer and Rawan

Rhad, and runs in general towards the north-east. Moorcroft has

described its appearance at Garu or Gartop, where it is a very

insignificant stream; but the intervening country is so little known,

except by native report, that we can scarcely be said to have an exact

knowledge of the upper part of its course. There is in some maps an

eastern branch laid down, but of that we have no definite information.

From the arid and snowless nature of the country through which it must

flow, it is probably a very small stream, but its length may be

considerable.

Immediately above the open plain in which we joined the Indus, it

would appear to have a very rocky and rugged channel. Such, at least,

was the description given to us by our guides of the lower course of

the Hanle river, which we left only a few miles before it joined the

Indus; and as the mountains to the south-west appeared to close in

very abruptly within a very short distance of our encampment, we could

not doubt that the open and level plain which we found in this portion

of the river's course was of limited extent, and quite an exceptional

feature in the character of the country through which the Indus flows.

From the great elevation and abrupt slope of the range which runs

parallel to the Hanle river on the east, there can be no doubt that

the spurs which it sends down on its north-east slope, towards the

Indus, must be bold and rocky; and though the hills on the left bank

of the Hanle river are much less elevated, yet they rise as they

advance to the eastward. The descent of this river too, though very

gentle in the upper part of its course, while its valley is broad, is

probably very abrupt in the last few miles, where its channel is rocky

and its ravine narrow. The elevation of its junction with the Indus

is, I believe, about 13,800 feet above the level of the sea.

[Sidenote: INDUS VALLEY.

_September, 1847._]

On the 19th of September our road lay in a westerly direction down the

Indus. The weather was still extremely unsettled, the sky being cloudy

and a violent north or north-west wind continuing to blow in frequent

gusts. No rain, however, fell. The plain gradually narrowed as we

advanced, and the mountains on the left approached by degrees close to

the river. Low grassy plains, covered with a saline incrustation,

quite dry, and without any brushwood or tall herbaceous vegetation,

skirted the river, the course of which we followed very closely.

Indeed, notwithstanding the considerable diminution of altitude, the

aspect of the valley of the Indus was more dreary and barren than we

had for some days been accustomed to. The rocky spurs were quite bare;

and even on the level tracts no vegetation was seen, excepting on the

very lowest banks, which were moistened by the river. This utter

sterility was no doubt due to the absence of lateral rivulets, the

hills which rose on our left hand being stony and steep, and not

rising to a sufficient elevation to be covered with perpetual snow, or

to accumulate and retain snow-beds in their ravines till a late period

of the year.

The rock on the left-hand mountains during the day was quite different

from any that had hitherto occurred, being a conglomerate, with

rounded stones of various sizes, many of them granite. The matrix was

of a very dark colour, and generally extremely hard; more rarely it

was a coarse sand, crumbling to pieces. This conglomerate was

everywhere stratified, the beds dipping to the south-west, at an angle

of about forty-five degrees. During the day the river varied much in

width, being seldom less than twenty-five yards, and sometimes as much

as eighty. The stream was generally very gentle, not exceeding two

miles an hour, except in a few rapids, and the river was in most

places fordable. We encamped on the left bank, in a place where it was

shallow and wide.

On the 20th of September we continued at first to follow the left bank

of the Indus, which gradually assumed a more northerly direction. The

mountains on both sides approached much more closely to the river than

they had done the day before, and those on the right continued

extremely lofty. The river now flowed more rapidly, and was often

wider and more shallow; one rapid was not less than 150 yards in

width. Banks of alluvial clayey conglomerate were usually interposed

between the mountains and the river, forming cliffs which attained not

unfrequently an elevation of fifty feet. These were separated by

projecting spurs, over which the road passed wherever they advanced so

close to the centre of the valley as to prevent a passage along the

level plain. Some small streamlets were crossed during the day, and in

consequence the vegetation was at times more varied, and at the same

time more luxuriant, than it had been the day before. A few bushes of

_Myricaria_ were seen on the bank of the river; and in the lateral

ravines the ordinary shrubs and herbaceous vegetation were common.

The only new plant was a species of _Labiatæ_, a coarse-growing

under-shrub, probably a species of _Ballota_.

[Sidenote: PUGHA RAVINE.

_September, 1847._]

The hard conglomerate of the day before did not again occur, various

forms of clay-slate being the prevailing rock. The steep slopes were,

however, very frequently covered with a talus of angular fragments,

which obscured the structure of the lower portions of the mountains,

at the same time that it revealed the nature of the higher strata,

which would otherwise have been inaccessible. Red and green jaspery

rocks, very hard and brittle, were abundant, with various forms of

greenstone, at times closely resembling syenite. These were evidently

the same rocks as had been met with in the neighbourhood of Hanle, and

along the river for some way below that town. Their recurrence here,

therefore, tended to confirm what had for some time appeared to me to

be the prevailing strike of these formations, namely, from S.S.E. to

N.N.W.

After following the course of the Indus for about eight miles, we

turned abruptly to the left, ascending a narrow gorge, in which a

considerable stream flowed from the south-west. The slope was, from

the first, considerable, and the course of the ravine very winding.

Steep rocky cliffs rose precipitously on both sides, and generally

approached so close to one another that their tops could not be seen.

The channel of the stream was at first stony and quite bare, but after

a mile bushes of the _Myricaria_ became common, fringing the stream,

but nowhere growing at any distance from it. These gradually increased

in size and abundance, and at our camping place, three miles from the

commencement of the ravine, they were generally small trees, many of

them not less than fifteen feet in height, with stout erect trunks

five or six inches in diameter.

The morning of the 21st of September was bright and clear, and

intensely frosty, the unsettled weather which had continued since our

leaving Hanle having quite disappeared. Our road still lay up the

gorge, which had quite the same appearance as on the previous day.

High precipices, or very steep banks, hemmed in the stream on both

sides. Small trees of _Myricaria_ still continued abundant in the

immediate vicinity of the water; elsewhere, all was as desolate as

ever. Some of these trees were not less than a foot in diameter; the

trunk was generally very short, often branching within a foot of the

base. At intervals there was a good deal of alluvium, partly in the

shape of coarse conglomerate, partly a fine micaceous sand, filling up

the recesses at the bends of the ravine. After three miles, the ravine

suddenly expanded into a narrow plain, the surface of which was

irregularly undulating, and completely encrusted with salt. As this

plain was interesting in consequence of the production of borax, we

encamped on the bank of the little stream about a mile from the end of

the gorge, and remained stationary the next day in order to examine

the nature of the locality in which the borax is found.

[Sidenote: HOT SPRINGS.

_September, 1847._]

As the day's journey was a very short one, we arrived at the salt

plain by eight o'clock A.M. The air was still quite frosty. While our

tents were being pitched on a dry bank a little way above the stream,

we proceeded to its bank, and were not a little surprised to find the

water quite tepid, notwithstanding the extreme cold of the air. On

procuring a thermometer, it was found to have a temperature of 69°.

Advancing up the stream, we found that numerous hot springs rose on

its banks, and sometimes under the water. The hottest of these had a

temperature of 174°. From these springs gas was copiously evolved,

smelling strongly of sulphur; and in their immediate neighbourhood the

water of the little river had a faintly sulphurous taste, though

elsewhere it was quite pure and good. The stream, which was perhaps

twenty feet wide, was usually rather deep. Dense masses of aquatic

weeds, chiefly species of _Zannichellia_ and _Potamogeton_, grew in

the water, and along the margins their dead stems, mixed with mud,

formed immense banks, scarcely strong enough to bear the weight of a

man, and yet seemingly quite solid. A small crustaceous animal was

common among the weeds, but though I searched with care I could find

no shells. The stream was full of fish, which swarmed among the weeds,

and darted backwards and forwards in the tepid water in immense

shoals. They were generally about six inches in length, and appeared

to my inexperienced eye to belong to two or three species, all

different from those which had been seen at Hanle. In the hottest

water of the hot springs I collected three species of _Conferva_.

[Sidenote: MYRICARIA TREES.

_September, 1847._]

The existence of the tree _Myricaria_ in the gorges between Pugha and

the Indus, which had appeared to us at the time very remarkable, was

fully explained by the occurrence of the hot springs, and the

consequent high temperature of the water of the stream, and was

peculiarly interesting as an illustration of the influence of

temperature upon vegetation. It may fairly be considered, I think, as

a proof, that arboreous vegetation does not cease at great elevations

in consequence of the rarefaction of the air, but only on account of

the diminution of temperature which usually accompanies increased

elevation. The trees of _Myricaria_, it must be observed, came

abruptly to an end with the ravine, none occurring on the open plain.

We cannot suppose that the trifling increased elevation caused their

disappearance; it seems probable that the narrow walls of the gorge,

by concentrating the heat, prevented its escape, and that, therefore,

the temperature was more elevated than in the open plain, where the

action of winds and free radiation combined to lower it. The

occurrence of fish in the water of Pugha, at an elevation of nearly

15,500 feet above the level of the sea, is also very remarkable, and

still more strikingly demonstrative of the same fact, inasmuch as it

would certainly not have been very surprising that air at that

elevation should, from its rarity, be insufficient for the support of

life in animals breathing by gills.

At the gorge, where the narrow ravine expands into the lake plain of

Pugha, the rock is clay-slate, but the hills which skirt the open

plain are micaceous schist, varying much in appearance, often with

large crystals of garnet, and crumbling rapidly to decay. On the

surface of the plain lay many scattered boulders of a peculiar kind of

granite, evidently transported from a considerable distance along the

stream; and in all the central parts of the plain, a very remarkable

conglomerate in horizontal strata, consisting of angular fragments of

the surrounding rocks, cemented together by calcareous matter, was

observed.

[Sidenote: BORAX PLAIN.

_September, 1847._]

The whole of the plain is covered, to the depth of several feet at

least, with white salt, principally borax, which is obtained in a

tolerably pure state by digging, the superficial layer, which contains

a little mixture of other saline matters, being rejected. There is at

present little export of borax from Pugha, the demand for the salt in

Upper India being very limited, and the export to Europe almost at an

end.

[Sidenote: BORAX LAKES OF TIBET.

_September, 1847._]

It has long been known that borax is produced naturally in different

parts of Tibet, and the salt imported thence into India was at one

time the principal source of supply of the European market. I am not

aware that any of the places in which the borax is met with had

previously been visited by any European traveller, but the nature of

the localities in which it occurs has been the subject of frequent

inquiry, and several more or less detailed accounts have been made

public. These differ considerably from one another, and no description

that I have met with accords with that of the Pugha valley. Mr.

Saunders[13] describes (from hearsay) the borax lake north of Jigatzi

as twenty miles in circumference, and says that the borax is dug from

its margins, the deeper and more central parts producing common salt.

From the account of Mr. Blane[14], who describes, from the information

of the natives, the borax district north of Lucknow, and, therefore,

in the more western part of the course of the Sanpu, it would appear

that the lake there contains boracic acid, and that the borax is

artificially prepared by saturating the sesquicarbonate of soda,

which is so universally produced on the surface of Tibet, with the

acid. At least, the statement that the production of borax is

dependent on the amount of soda, leads to this conclusion. The whole

description, however, (as is, indeed, to be expected in a native

account of a chemical process,) is very obscure, and not to be

depended upon. Mr. Saunders does not notice any hot springs in the

neighbourhood of the borax; but in the more western district described

by Mr. Blane, hot springs seem to accompany the borax lake as at

Pugha.

It is not impossible that the three districts in which the occurrence

of borax has been noticed, which are only a very small portion of

those which exist, may represent three stages of one and the same

phenomenon. The boracic acid lake may, by the gradual influx of soda,

be gradually converted into borax, which, from its great insolubility,

will be deposited as it is formed. On the drainage or drying-up of

such a lake, a borax plain, similar to that of Pugha, would be left

behind[15].

From Pugha, two roads towards Le were open to us. We might either

return to the Indus, and follow the valley of that river throughout,

or proceed by a more direct route across the mountains to join the

road from Lake Chumoreri to Le, by which Mr. Trebeck had travelled on

his way to Piti. As we knew that the Indus route would be surveyed by

Captain Strachey, who was desirous of following the course of the

river as far as practicable, we preferred the more mountainous road,

and, therefore, on leaving our encampment at Pugha, on the morning of

the 23rd of September, we continued to ascend the valley of the little

stream, on the banks of which we had been encamped. For the first two

miles the plain was nearly level, and similar in character to what has

just been described, hot springs being observed at intervals.

[Sidenote: SULPHUR MINE.

_September, 1847._]

Two miles from our encampment, we stopped and examined the spot whence

sulphur is obtained, at the base of the mountain slope on the north

side of the valley. Ascending a few feet over a loose talus of

shingle, which skirted the bottom of the hill, we found two narrow

caverns in the slaty rock, apparently natural, or only a little

widened by art, roughly circular, and less than three feet in diameter

at the mouth. One of these caverns continued a long way inwards,

nearly horizontally, but it contracted considerably in diameter, and

was so dark that we could not penetrate far. The rock was principally

gypsum, interstratified with very friable mica-slate. Sometimes the

gypsum was amorphous and powdery, at other times in needles two or

three inches long, perpendicular to the strata of slate. The sulphur

was in small quantities, scattered among the gypsum, and was more

abundant in the lower beds. It was frequently in very perfect

crystals, not, however, of any great size.

The air which issued from these funnel-shaped apertures was very

sensibly warm, and had a strongly sulphurous odour. Unfortunately, we

had not anticipated the necessity for observing the temperature, which

was not by any means oppressive, and was only remarkable in contrast

with the extreme cold of the external air.

In the neighbourhood of the sulphur-pits, the hot springs along the

course of the stream were very numerous, evolving much gas. A little

higher they ceased altogether, and the upper part of the plain was

without any springs, as was evident from the quantity of ice by which

it was covered. For more than a mile it was a dead level, and very

swampy; but afterwards the valley became gently sloping and gravelly,

the little stream being often hidden under the pebbles. Large boulders

of the same granite which we had observed the day before, were

scattered over the surface. The vegetation in this valley was

extremely scanty, a few scattered tufts of _Dama_, and some shrubby

_Artemisiæ_, were occasionally seen, but the herbaceous vegetation had

been almost entirely destroyed by the intense morning frosts, which

had for some time been of daily occurrence. On the latter part of the

day's journey the rock on the mountain-side changed from mica-slate to

gneiss, of which very lofty scarped cliffs rose abruptly on the right

hand. We encamped on a level spot, after ten miles of almost

imperceptible ascent.

Next morning we continued to ascend the valley, which was now very

rugged, from masses of boulders, which were heaped one on another to a

very great thickness. The stream had cut for itself a narrow channel,

nearly a hundred feet in depth, the walls of which were entirely

composed of huge incoherent masses of rock, all more or less angular.

A walk of three miles brought us to the crest of the pass, which was

nearly level and grassy for about a mile; its elevation was about

16,500 feet. The pass (Pulokanka La) is a very deep depression in the

axis of the chain, which runs parallel to the left bank of the Indus,

separating the waters tributary to that river from those which join

the Zanskar river, some of the feeders of the latter springing from

the valleys on the western slopes of these mountains. The hills right

and left of the pass rise very boldly into rugged masses, contrasting

strongly with the level plain which constitutes the pass, in which the

watershed is scarcely perceptible.

[Sidenote: SALT LAKE.

_September, 1847._]

From the pass the descent was considerably more abrupt than the ascent

had been. The valley to the right was bare and stony, watered by a

small streamlet, which had, as on the eastern face of the pass, cut a

deep channel for itself among boulders. On descending, we turned

gradually to the right, and a lake by degrees came in view, towards

the southern extremity of which the road advanced over undulating

hills of fine clay, full of fresh-water shells, almost entirely of one

species of _Lymnæa_, of which the specimens were extremely numerous.

This lake is the Thogji Chumo of Mr. Trebeck, who travelled along it

on his journey from Le to Piti.

[Sidenote: FOSSILIFEROUS CLAYS.

_September, 1847._]

I was much surprised, and not a little pleased, to find that the

clay-beds contained fossils; as, except on one occasion in Piti, where

I found one or two specimens of a small _Planorbis_, I had in vain

sought in the clayey beds for any trace of organized beings. Here,

however, shells were in prodigious abundance, and as the species was a

large one, they were very conspicuous. The clay formation was

horizontally stratified, and quite impalpable. The uppermost beds

were at least a hundred feet above the level of the lake; and as the

valley by which we descended was in its lower part almost horizontal,

the lacustrine beds extended to a considerable distance from the lake,

forming a slightly undulating surface, over which the road ran.

After reaching the banks of the lake, the road kept its eastern shore

throughout its whole length, which was about three miles, and we

encamped close to its north end, on the edge of a level salt plain.

Our elevation was about 15,500 feet. The margins of the lake, which

was intensely saline, were generally very shallow, and its banks often

swampy, and covered with saline plants, especially _Chenopodiaceæ_; a

species of _Suæda_, with cylindrical fleshy leaves, was especially

abundant, growing in the soft mud close to the banks of the lake. A

_Blysmus_, several grasses, and _Ranunculus Cymbalaria_ were also

common along the banks of the lake. No shells could be seen in the

water. The surrounding hills were not very lofty, but often rose

abruptly several hundred feet, and were in general rugged and rocky.

At the height of perhaps 150 feet above the lake, a weathered mark

could be traced on the face of the mountains, wherever they were

rocky, everywhere quite horizontal. This was most conspicuous from a

distance, and became indistinct on a near approach. It appeared to

indicate, as I shall hereafter show, the level of the surface of the

lake at some former period.

On the morning of the 25th of September, our day's journey commenced

by rounding the north end of the lake, keeping at some distance from

its margin to avoid swamp. For about two miles from the northern end,

the ground continued almost level, and contained great masses of the

lacustrine clay quite horizontally stratified, and very little higher

than the surface of the water, but here quite without shells. A wide

valley, rising gently towards the north, lay beyond this level plain;

but our road, passing across the end of the lake, ascended another

valley, which ran in a north-west direction from its north-west

corner. The slope of this valley was very gentle. It was bounded by

low undulating or rocky hills, on which, where the surface was

suitable, the same remarkable water-mark could be traced continuously,

and still, to all appearance, quite horizontal. The centre of the

valley was occupied by clay, at first non-fossiliferous, but a little

further on containing a great abundance of shells, the same as in the

bed seen the day before. A few specimens of a very small bivalve,

seemingly a species of _Cyclas_, were also met with; but they were so

very rare, that they bore an infinitesimally small proportion to the

_Lymnæa_.

[Sidenote: ANCIENT WATER-MARK.

_September, 1847._]

[Sidenote: FORMER OUTLET OF LAKE.

_September, 1847._]

For several miles the ancient water-mark could be traced along the

sides of the hills, appearing to descend gradually, as the valley

slightly rose in elevation. Beds of clay continued to occupy the

middle of the valley nearly as long as the water-mark remained

visible. At last it disappeared where a depression on the left,

leading to the valley of Rukchin, seemed to indicate the former

drainage of the lake, at a time when its waters occupied a much higher

level, and contained in a living state the large mollusca of which the

shelly coverings still remain in such vast abundance in the clay. As

it was at the very edge of the lacustrine clay formation that the

shells were so abundant, while the masses of clay in the vicinity of

our encampment of the 25th, at the north-east extremity of the lake,

were without any, it would appear that the species was quite littoral,

while in the more central parts fine mud was deposited, without

shells. The outlet was indicated to me by Major Cunningham, who in a

previous journey had travelled along a part of the Rukchin valley in

descending from the Lachalang pass towards the salt lake. As it may

fairly be inferred that the lake was quite fresh at the time when it

was inhabited by _Lymnææ_ and _Cyclades_, it is satisfactory to know

that so very small an increase of the height of the surface of the

water, as about 150 feet, would be sufficient to admit of its

discharging its waters along the course of an open valley into one of

the tributaries of the Zanskar river.

Our road, after passing the ravine on the left, along which I suppose

the discharge of the lake at its original level to have been effected,

turned still more towards the north, and ascending an open valley to

the right, crossed a low _col_, or pass, and descended into a small

basin surrounded by hills, which was evidently at some former period

the bed of a small lake, for it was filled with pure fine clay, in

which, however, I could not observe any shells. From this plain we

passed into another open valley, up which we ascended in a northerly

direction for five or six miles, encamping where the mountains on both

sides began to close in a circle. Throughout the day we had been

gradually but very gently ascending, and the height of our encampment

was probably about 16,500 feet. We were about two miles from the

Tunglung pass, a depression in the range parallel to the Indus, the

same ridge which we had crossed before descending to the salt lake.

The axis of the range had been very near us on the right hand since we

had crossed it on the 24th, and had sent down a succession of spurs,

separated by wide valleys, along which we had been travelling. These

separating ridges appeared usually to rise to an elevation of from one

to two thousand feet above the nearly level valleys which lay at their

bases, and were, though often rocky, less remarkably so than in many

previous parts of our journey.

[Sidenote: ASCENT TOWARDS

TUNGLUNG PASS.

_September, 1847._]

The elevated country surrounding the sources of the Parang and Hanle

rivers, and those of the more eastern branches of the Zanskar, as well

as that encircling Lake Chumoreri, constitutes as near an approach to

what Humboldt has denominated a knot (_noeud_) of mountains, as any

part of the Himalaya which I have visited; not that I conceive there

is any reason to suppose that we have in this part of the chain an

intersection of two mountain masses of different ages, to which cause

the distinguished geographer is disposed to assign those aggregations

of mountains which he has so designated. There is, however, as

indicated by the origin of so many considerable streams in a confined

area, an extensive tract of highly elevated land, in which the valleys

have a very gentle slope, while the surrounding mountains are not much

elevated above them. The whole tract is nevertheless eminently

mountainous, if contrasted, not with the still more rugged districts

by which it is on every side surrounded, but with the hilly districts

of less alpine countries.

In the elevated district which we had been traversing since crossing

the Parang pass, there is little or no cultivation, a field or two at

Hanle and at the monastery on the banks of Lake Chumoreri (as I am

informed by Major Cunningham) being the only exceptions. The district,

however, is much frequented by a nomade population of shepherds, who,

living in tents, move about with their flocks as the abundance of food

or their own caprice may lead them. Clusters of black tents were now

and then seen by us at intervals, especially in Rupchu, by which name

the districts round the salt lake are known to the wandering

inhabitants.

During the whole of the 25th of September, a furious north wind had

continued to blow, accompanied by a cloudy sky, and all the

indications of extremely unsettled weather, such as had been met with

in the neighbourhood of Hanle only a week before. It was evident that,

as winter approached, these periods of disturbance recurred more and

more frequently. This time the fury of the blast increased as the day

advanced, and after dark the cold in our tents was very severe. About

10 P.M. it began to snow slightly, and at daybreak on the 26th the

ground was covered with snow to a depth of between two and three

inches. As we had a prospect of arriving in milder regions by

diminishing our elevation during the day, we hastened our departure as

much as possible. A mile and a half of level ground brought us

directly under the pass, the ascent to which was at last very steep.

The road was very stony and rugged, but everything being covered with

snow a good deal deeper than on the open plain on which we had

encamped, we did not linger at the summit. The wind still blew

strongly from the north, driving in our faces the still falling snow,

and opposing our progress towards the crest, which was very rocky,

being composed of a mass of hard stratified quartz. The elevation of

the summit was about 17,500 feet.

[Sidenote: TUNGLUNG PASS.

_September, 1847._]

The descent from the pass was very rapid. After a few paces, we were

in a narrow and steep ravine, in which we continued to descend very

abruptly, without obtaining any view of the surrounding country. Three

miles from the summit, at perhaps 2000 feet lower level, snow ceased

to lie on the ground, but it continued to fall lightly till the

afternoon. Large rounded tufts of an Alsinaceous plant were common on

the upper part of the descent, conspicuous under the snow. Lower down,

the remains of species of _Corydalis_ and _Saussurea_ were

discoverable in crevices of the rocks, the only remains of the alpine

vegetation. The rock on both sides was clay-slate.

Continuing to descend rapidly, the ravine widened a little, and became

filled with a most extensive development of alluvial conglomerate,

forming thick masses, worn into pinnacles and fantastic shapes, like

the similar deposits above Sungnam in Kunawar. This was particularly

conspicuous where a lateral valley joined that along which we

descended, a flat-topped promontory of alluvium there projecting far

beyond the primitive rocks.

[Sidenote: GIAH.

_September, 1847._]

After a descent of about 4000 feet of perpendicular height, we arrived

at Giah, elevated 13,400 feet above the sea, not a little glad to be

among houses, in a more temperate region than it had been for some

time our lot to travel in. We took up our quarters in the upper room

of a two-storied house, which had been prepared for our reception,

and willingly agreed to halt a day in order to give time for

arrangements, for a change of porters, and a rest to our servants and

guides. Giah will be recollected, by those acquainted with Moorcroft's

travels, as the place where he entered the Tibetan country, and where

he was for some time kept in considerable uncertainty as to the nature

of the reception he would meet with. Since that time the supremacy of

the Sikhs has entirely changed the state of the country; and though

the king (Gylpo) of Giah still exists, he does not even exercise a

nominal sovereignty, but lives a pensioner on the Sikh government,

without power and with a very limited income.

The influence of the Sikhs has, however, produced little change in the

character of the people, as their occupation of the country, except in

Le itself, and at one or two military posts, is entirely nominal, and

only maintained by the moral influence of their known superiority in

resources and military skill. The gumpa, or monastery, as in

Moorcroft's time, crowns a rocky hill on the right bank of the Giah

stream, while the town, or more properly village, on the left bank, is

built on the steep alluvial banks high above the stream. There was a

considerable extent of cultivation round the village, barley and peas

being the chief crops; both had been cut, but were still lying in

small heaps in the fields. Notwithstanding the great elevation, a

number of poplar-trees, of the large cordate-leaved species (which

seems identical with _P. balsamifera_), occur in the village, several

of which attain a considerable size.

[Sidenote: GIAH RAVINE.

_September, 1847._]

On the morning of the 28th of September we resumed our journey

towards Le. By crossing the Tunglung pass, we had again gained the

eastern slope of the ridge dividing the waters of the Zanskar from

those of the Indus. The Giah stream flows towards the latter river

with a north-easterly course, and two marches of little more than

seven miles each, brought us to the banks of the Indus at a village

called Upshi. For the first mile after leaving Giah, the valley was

somewhat open, with steep banks of alluvial conglomerate; it then

contracted rather suddenly into a narrow ravine, with steep rocky

walls, composed of highly inclined strata of conglomerate and

sandstone. Owing to the diminished elevation, the vegetation was

considerably more recognizable than it had been for the last week, and

several shrubby plants were seen which had long been absent. _Ephedra_

was common in the crevices of the rocks, and the Tibetan rose and a

small shrubby _Lonicera_ grew on the gravelly banks of the little

stream.

[Sidenote: REMARKABLE GORGE.

_September, 1847._]

At Miru, a considerable village where we encamped, the valley expanded

into a little plain, filled as usual with alluvium, and covered with

cultivation. A few poplar-trees occurred in the village. The ravine

contracted immediately below this place, and was, if possible, more

narrow and rocky than the day before, as the little stream had to be

crossed not less than four or five times in as many miles, on small

wooden bridges of rough planks. A very beautiful Labiate shrub, a

species of _Perowskia_, with bright blue flowers, which I afterwards

found very abundant in the Indus valley from 12,000 to 8000 feet, was

here met with for the first time. Close to its junction with the

Indus, the ravine expanded into an open plain, well covered with

houses and enclosures, with scattered poplar and willow trees, as well

as a few apricots, and traversed by canals of irrigation conducted

from the little Giah rivulet. The Indus is here not more than forty

feet wide, flowing swiftly over large boulders, and quite unfordable.

Throughout the whole course of this very remarkable gorge by which we

descended from Giah, the rock continued to be conglomerate,

alternating with strata of sandstone and of a very friable slate. The

conglomerate was extremely hard, and generally of a dark brown colour.

The matrix, which had often a semi-vitrified appearance, was not less

hard than the enclosed stones, which were all rounded and very various

in size and composition, jasper rock, granite, and quartz being all

seen. The sandstone which accompanied the conglomerate varied much in

colour, various shades of red, brown, and green being predominant. It

was also extremely hard. These strata, which were highly inclined,

often nearly vertical, were in general well marked, in consequence of

the beds of hard sandstone and conglomerate being thrown out in relief

by the more rapid decay of the soft slates with which they alternated.

The dip was everywhere very variable, and several very distinct

sections were displayed, where it was evident that the strata were

curved and sinuated. The curves observed were convex below; the strike

of the strata was nearly perpendicular to the general direction of the

ravine, or from north-west to south-east.

[Sidenote: INDUS VALLEY.

_September, 1847._]

From Upshi, our course lay down the Indus valley in a direction west

of north. The width of the Indus, which was a rapid stream, varied

from thirty or forty to a hundred feet. Platforms of alluvium, almost

level-topped, and often attaining a thickness of a hundred feet, were

interposed between the river and the mountains, which, still composed

of highly inclined strata of conglomerate and its associated rocks,

advanced in a succession of spurs towards the centre of the valley.

These platforms were quite bare of vegetation, a few tufts of a

prickly _Echinops_ being the only plant worthy of note which I

observed. No villages were passed till we reached Marsilang, at which

we encamped after a journey of about ten miles. Here there was very

extensive cultivation on the surface of the platform, on both sides of

a deep ravine, cut in the alluvium by a considerable stream, which

descended from the west. The plantations of willow and poplar were

very luxuriant. The willows were planted in rows, and were frequently

pollarded, their twigs being in great demand for baskets and other

useful purposes in so treeless a country. When allowed to grow their

full size, they spread much, and attain a length of upwards of thirty

feet. The cultivated willows of Tibet are mostly European forms;

_Salix fragilis_ and _S. alba_ are the most common. The poplars are of

two sorts: one a spreading tree with large cordate leaves, which was

first seen in Upper Kunawar, and is common in all the Tibetan

villages, up to the highest limit of tree cultivation; it is quite

identical with _Populus balsamifera_, which I cannot distinguish in

the herbarium from _P. laurifolia_, of Ledebour. The other, which I

had not before seen in Tibet, was a tall, erect, and slender tree,

with much darker foliage and smaller leaves; it seems, so far as my

specimens enable me to decide, to be the common black poplar (_P.

nigra_) of Europe.

[Sidenote: MARSILANG.

_September, 1847._]

At Marsilang the Indus is crossed by a good wooden bridge, thirty-four

paces in length, which enables its inhabitants to communicate with the

large villages and extensive cultivated tracts on the east bank of the

river. As soon as we left the cultivated lands of Marsilang, on the

morning of the 1st of October, we found ourselves again on a platform

of alluvium; but after a few miles we reached another village, with

extensive cultivation, and on the latter part of the day's journey

passed through a succession of villages separated by gradually shorter

intervals of unprofitable and barren land. These cultivated tracts

were everywhere well irrigated; indeed, every spot, where irrigation

was easy of execution, seemed to be under cultivation. Each village

had its plantation of poplars and willows, not, however, so plentiful

as at Marsilang. The grain had everywhere been cut and housed, the

operations of harvest being seemingly quite at an end. The whole of

this richly-cultivated district is called Chashut.

Our journey of the 2nd of October was for about six miles through an

uninterrupted tract of cultivation, very little elevated above the

level of the river, the alluvial platforms being here of

inconsiderable thickness. The direction of the valley was also much

more westerly, and the mountains on both sides had receded

considerably from the river, leaving an open plain of five or six

miles in width. Numerous irrigation channels intersected the fields,

which gradually, as we proceeded, united one to another, till at last

they all combined into one large and deep canal, by which the

superfluous waters were conveyed to the Indus. Crossing this canal, we

reached the river, which we crossed by a bridge twenty-five paces in

length. A few houses, and a small patch of cultivation, lay on the

right bank of the river, immediately beyond the bridge, but no extent

of fertile country; low spurs of rocky hills descending from the

north, close down upon the Indus. After crossing the bridge we turned

up a wide and gravelly valley between two of these ridges, the course

of which we followed, ascending very gradually among large boulders,

strewed over the surface, for about three miles. We then turned

abruptly to the left, through a narrow ravine in the low granitic

hills by which the valley was on that side bounded. Emerging from

this, we entered a quite similar and parallel valley, and obtained our

first view of the town of Le, covering the top and slopes of a steep

hill by which the valley was apparently terminated, about two miles

beyond the point at which we entered it.

[Sidenote: LE.

_September, 1847._]

Le, the capital of the province of Ladak, and the most important

place, and only town, of Western Tibet, is situated about three miles

from the Indus, in the upper part of an open valley, which rises

gradually as it recedes from the river, so that the town is rather

more than 1200 feet above its level, or about 11,800 feet above the

sea. The town occupies the slope, and surrounds the base of a low

spur, on the left or east side of the valley, while the centre and

right side are occupied by extensive tracts of cultivation, the fields

rising in terraces one above another, and watered by little rills

drawn from a stream which descends in the centre of the valley. The

aspect of the town, which is very peculiar, is faithfully represented

in the frontispiece to the second volume of Moorcroft's Travels, from

a sketch by Mr. Trebeck.

In the neighbourhood of the town there are several small enclosures,

planted with poplar and willow trees, in one of which we pitched our

tents. These plantations were all young, a very fine garden of old

trees having been, it was said, destroyed at the time of the Sikh

invasion. The governor of Ladak, a deputy of Maharaja Gulab Singh, the

ruler of Kashmir, to whom the rule of Ladak has devolved as a

dependency of the latter country, resides in the town; but the

detachment of troops, amounting to about 150 men, who form the

military garrison of the place, occupy a small square fort on the west

side of the valley, about a mile from the town of Le.

The peculiarities of the Buddhist religion, as practised in Tibet,

which are everywhere conspicuous in all parts of Ladak, are especially

remarkable in the capital. The principal monasteries in the

neighbourhood of Le are at some distance from the town in the vicinity

of villages both up and down the Indus; but religious edifices, of the

many kinds which are everywhere so common in Tibet, are seen all round

Le in great numbers. Along the road by which we approached the town,

there is a very long building, of the kind called _Mané_, extending

for more than half a mile. It consists of two parallel walls, twelve

or fifteen feet apart, and nearly six feet high, the intervals between

which are filled up with stones and rubbish, and the whole covered

with a sloping roof, which rises at a gentle angle to the central

ridge, midway between the two walls. On the roof are laid large slabs

of slate, every one of which is covered with Tibetan letters, or more

rarely with a rude drawing of a temple. The words on these stones are

(I believe, invariably) a repetition of the mystical Buddhist prayer,

from one of the words of which these curious, and apparently useless,

erections take their name. The Mane seems one of the most

indispensable accompaniments of a Tibetan village, and they may

occasionally be seen even in desert tracts; so that the amount of

labour which has been expended in their construction must have been

very great, some of the largest containing many millions of

repetitions of the words _Om Mane Padme Hom_. In the smaller villages

they are often very inferior in size, sometimes not more than twenty

or thirty feet in length, and three feet high. Every traveller has

constant occasion to notice that in passing these walls the Tibetans

always leave them on the right hand, considering it both wrong and

unlucky to do otherwise; those proceeding in contrary directions

therefore take opposite sides.

[Sidenote: RELIGIOUS EDIFICES

OF TIBET.

_September, 1847._]

Equally conspicuous in the environs of Le are the urn-like buildings,

called Chokten or Chosten, which are, I believe, erected over the

ashes of Lamas, or priests, and are, therefore, in a country where a

third or fourth part of the male population adopt a monastic life,

particularly abundant. Long rows of these, consisting of twenty or

more urns of various sizes, may often be seen in conspicuous places

above the villages, forming, from the brilliant whitewash with which

they are covered when new, very prominent objects. Many of those near

Le are of large size, and ornamented with rude paintings of dragons

and other mythological animals of uncouth form.

The religion of Tibet, from the remarkable nature of its institutions

and ceremonies, has of late years attracted much attention; but as,

from the hurried nature of my journey, I had no opportunity of

acquiring any information regarding it which has not already been made

public, it is not necessary for me to dwell upon it at any length.

Throughout the whole of Western Tibet, the monasteries are very poor,

in comparison with those in the neighbourhood of Lassa, of which we

read such gorgeous descriptions; all their wealth in silver and gold

having been plundered by the Sikhs, during their short possession of

the country as far east as Garu and Taklakhar. Still the number of

Lamas does not seem to have much diminished, though they are more

dependent upon the cultivation of the soil than in Eastern Tibet,

where some of the monasteries are said to contain thousands of

priests.

[Sidenote: LE.

_September, 1847._]

The town of Le is said to contain about 3000 inhabitants. Many of the

houses are very high, the former residence of the king containing

seven stories. They are usually built of unburnt brick, formed from

the fine lacustrine clay of the neighbourhood. The Sikh Thannadar has

lately built for himself a house of stone, but he found it necessary

to bring lime from Nubra, a distance of nearly forty miles, none being

procurable so near in the valley of the Indus. The timber used in the

construction of the houses is all poplar or willow, both of which are

found to last a very long time in the arid climate of Tibet. The beams

are laid perhaps two feet apart, and covered sometimes with small

planking, but more generally with brushwood, over which is laid a

thick coating of clay, so as to form a flat roof, to which there is

usually access by a small stair or ladder.

The mountain ranges which bound the valley in which the town of Le is

situated, though not lofty, are very generally rocky and inaccessible.

They consist partly of distinctly stratified gneiss, but principally

of a fine white granite, which decays with great rapidity, and

contains many irregular nodules of an iron grey colour, much finer in

the grain than the rest. The width of the fertile plain of Chashut,

over which I made the last two marches down the Indus, had prevented

me from ascertaining the nature of the rocks on the mountains to the

left, so that I cannot fix the exact point where the granitic eruption

comes in contact with the slates and conglomerates of the Giah ravine.

FOOTNOTES:

[13] Turner's Tibet, p. 406.

[14] Phil. Tr. 1787, p. 297.

[15] I have made over all my specimens of the borax and other saline

products of Tibet to Dr. R. D. Thomson, of Glasgow, who is at present

engaged in examining them.

Western Himalaya and Tibet A Narrative of a Journey Through the Mountains of Northern India During the Years 1847-8 · 第 6 / 15 章