Marked change in the Vegetation -- Bridge over Chenab --
Pargwal -- Description of Chenab valley -- Asdhari --
Chatargarh -- Road turns up valley of Butna -- Vegetation of
Chenab valley -- Chishot -- Snow-beds -- Camp at 10,500 feet --
Ancient moraines -- Glacier -- Camp at 11,500 feet -- Rapid
ascent along glacier -- Camp on moraine, at 14,600 feet --
Change of weather -- Ascent towards pass over glacier -- Cross
Umasi La -- Descent -- Immense glacier -- Encamp in Tibet, at
13,800 feet -- Open valley of Zanskar -- Padum -- Great change
of climate -- and in vegetation.
As a great part of my baggage and some of my servants did not reach
camp till after dark, in the evening of the 12th of May, I halted on
the 13th. I was encamped in a very narrow valley, on both sides of
which lofty mountains rose very abruptly. The spurs which projected
into this ravine were all of very peculiar configuration, their
northern face being uniformly quite precipitous, while to the south,
though still steep, they were green and sloping. I ascended on the
southern slope of the spur, nearest to my tent, to a height of perhaps
1500 feet, without obtaining any extensive view of the valley of the
Chenab, though I afterwards found that I was not more than two miles
in a direct line from that river, but that the rocky mountains right
and left, retaining their elevation till they were close to it,
completely interrupted the view in every direction, except directly
down the ravine, where a small portion of the snow-topped mountains
beyond the river was visible.
[Sidenote: VEGETATION OF CHENAB VALLEY.
_June, 1848._]
From the great elevation of the mountains which I had just crossed, I
was prepared to find a marked change in the aspect of the vegetation,
and I was not disappointed. The steep slopes were covered with a most
luxuriant herbage, above two feet in height. A tall panicled _Rheum_
was very common, and numerous _Umbelliferæ_, _Silene inflata_,
_Geranium_, and _Pteris aquilina_ were abundant. The most remarkable
plant, however, from the extreme quantity in which it occurred, was an
Asphodelaceous plant (_Eremurus_, Bieb.), the long scapes of which,
from four to five feet in height, covered the hill-sides in countless
myriads. These scapes were clothed, for nearly half their length, with
a profusion of elegant white flowers, very slightly tinged with a pale
yellowish green. I met, during the day, with most of the
characteristic plants of the Kunawar flora; as instances, I may
mention _Ephedra_, _Dictamnus_, _Rosa Webbiana_, _Dianthus_, and
_Scutellaria orientalis_. The arboreous vegetation was much the same
as on the other side of the pass. The right side of the ravine was
well clothed with pines, of all the four ordinary species; the left
side was usually bare, the northern faces of the spurs, which are
generally wooded, being too precipitous, but in the hollows there were
a few small clumps of trees, principally pine, walnut, and sycamore.
[Sidenote: VALLEY OF CHENAB
_June, 1848._]
On the 14th of June I resumed my journey. The ravine in front was
pronounced by my guides impracticable, and, as I afterwards saw, not
without reason, as it gained the Chenab by running down an almost
precipitous rocky slope between 1200 and 1500 feet in height. The road
ascended the steep hills to the right rather abruptly, inclining to
the north at the same time, till it gradually wound round the northern
angle of the mountain range which formed the side of the ravine, when
I found myself looking down on the valley of the Chenab from a height
of about 3000 feet above the bed of the river. Unfortunately the day
was foggy, with a light drizzling rain, or no doubt the view would
have been magnificent. After rounding this rocky angle, the road ran
parallel to the Chenab, but in a direction contrary to its course, and
continued to rise very gently among shady forests, with scattered
patches of snow. I conjectured at the time that an immediate descent
was prevented by precipices below; and I afterwards ascertained from
the opposite side of the river that such was the case. After about a
mile and a half an extremely abrupt descent commenced, at first
through dense forest, but afterwards among numerous fields and
scattered houses, constituting a large village between 8000 and 9000
feet in elevation. Fruit-trees were abundant, principally walnut, of
which there were many magnificent trees. The crops of wheat were not
yet in ear.
[Sidenote: PARGWAL
_June, 1848._]
Below the village lands the road entered a forest of deodar, and
continued to descend rapidly. The deodars continued nearly to the
river, a few hundred feet only at the lowest part being covered with
high brushwood, principally consisting of _Fothergilla_. The Chenab
(or Chandrabhaga, as it is always called in the mountains) is a
noble-looking, rapid stream, running through a deep rocky channel. It
is crossed at a considerable height above the water by a good and
substantial wooden bridge, from which the course of the valley could
be seen both up and down, to a considerable distance; and in both
directions the river flows between lofty ranges of mountains,
generally very rocky and precipitous, and often finely wooded. I did
not determine the elevation of the bed of the river, but believe that
it may safely be stated to be about 7000 feet. After crossing the
Chenab the road ascended very abruptly to the village of Pargwal, in
which I encamped, at an elevation of about 8500 feet. On the lower
part of the ascent the forest was much more luxuriant than on the
opposite side, and than it usually is on slopes facing the south: this
was caused by the great depth and narrowness of the ravine through
which the river flowed.
This day's march was rendered unpleasant by rain, which commenced
about seven A.M., and continued to fall steadily till near sunset; the
sky being completely overcast, and the day nearly calm. It was,
however, very gentle, so that the quantity which fell during the day
was beyond a doubt much less than would have fallen with constant rain
for an equal length of time in the outer ranges of mountains, where no
snowy range is interposed to stop the rain-clouds. It did not rain
again while I continued in the valley; still one day's experience
would of itself be quite insufficient to warrant any conclusion, were
it not that the inhabitants describe the climate as tolerably dry.
Their account is, that the rains continue lightly at intervals for
about a month from the middle of June, after which they cease
entirely. I have already pointed out that the climate of lower Kunawar
is precisely the same in character, and these two valleys are equally
similar in situation with respect to the mountain ranges.
[Sidenote: DESCRIPTION OF
CHENAB VALLEY.
_June, 1848._]
I had reached the Chenab at a point a good deal higher up than
Chatargarh, from which place the most frequented road into the Zanskar
valley turns to the north. There is, I believe, another pass a good
deal more to the eastward, the road to which leaves the Chenab not far
from the place where I crossed it; but I was informed that it is at
all times extremely difficult, and that the season was still too early
to attempt it. I therefore proceeded, on the 15th and 16th of June,
down the right bank of the Chenab, through an exceedingly mountainous
country, and generally at a great height above the stream, but with
frequent descents to cross lateral torrents. The mountains to the
north were generally crested with snow, and dipped very abruptly to
the river. The north-west face of each ridge was invariably
precipitous, so that all the descents along the road were abrupt,
rocky, and difficult. Many villages were met with in the valley, and
much cultivation usually high up on the sides of the mountains.
Poplars (_P. nigra_ and _alba_) and apricots were commonly planted,
but the favourite fruit-tree seemed to be the walnut. I did not see
any vines cultivated. On both days the scenery was extremely fine,
varying with every turn of the valley; at times the view from the top
of the scarped precipices, which were frequent, was of the grandest
possible description. The south side of the valley, where not
absolutely precipitous, was covered with forest, most frequently of
pine; and on the north side, on which the road lay, though the upper
parts were often bare and grassy, or only covered with brushwood, yet
the banks of the river were usually well wooded, and all the ravines,
which were deep and shady, were filled with a dense forest of deodar,
horse-chesnut, hazel, sycamore, birch, and _Fothergilla_, with many
other trees. _Pinus Gerardiana_, which may be looked upon as more
characteristic of a moderately dry climate than any other tree,
inasmuch as it will not flourish where the rains are at all heavy, was
extremely common. On the 16th a great part of the road lay through an
extensive wood, of a species of oak (_Q. Ilex_), which I had only
before seen in Kunawar, where it is not uncommon.
On the 15th I encamped at the village of Asdhari, at an elevation of
8800 feet, and nearly 2000 feet above the river. On the 16th my
halting-place was Shol, a large village close to the Chenab, with an
extensive tract of cultivation, quite bare of trees, except a few
cherries. The elevation of my tent was here about 6900 feet: it was
not more than fifty feet above the river. Opposite the village, on the
south bank of the river, under a cliff which screened it from the rays
of the sun, there was a very large patch of snow.
[Sidenote: CHATARGARH.
_June, 1848._]
The early part of my march of the 17th was still along the Chenab,
through fine shady forest, for about three miles, rising to the height
of about 1000 feet, and again descending close to the water's edge.
The road then continued nearly on a level with the stream, and became
very rocky and difficult, planks of wood or rough bridges being laid
in some places from rock to rock to effect a passage. Below this
narrow rocky part of the channel the valley widened out on the north
side into an open sandy plain, watered by a large tributary stream,
descending from the north. Close to this stream lay the small fort of
Chatargarh, the residence of the Thannadar of the valley, and of a
small garrison of soldiers. The Butna, which here joins the Chenab,
and up which my road lay, is a large impetuous stream. I crossed it a
short way above the fort, by a good bridge, and, following its right
bank for about two miles through oak forest, encamped at the village
of Liundi.
The flora of the valley of the Chenab, as far as my road lay along it,
continued to agree in most respects with that of Kunawar. As I
descended the river, there were some indications of an approach to the
vegetation of the outer Himalaya; but the number of species belonging
to that flora which appeared was not great. A _Zizyphus_ common in the
lower Sutlej and in Kashmir, the common pomegranate, and a shrubby
_Desmodium_, were those noted. This gradual transition in the
character of the vegetation occurs equally in Kunawar; and as both the
Sutlej and the Chenab commence their course in an arid climate, and
enter the plains under the full influence of the rains, it is quite in
accordance with what might be expected to happen. The change is in
both valleys extremely gradual, and appears to be directly
proportional to the diminished elevation of the mountains which run
parallel to the rivers on the south.[19]
[Sidenote: BUTNA VALLEY.
_June, 1848._]
On the 18th of June my road again lay up the valley of the Butna,
usually close to the stream, partly through bare country, with
scattered bushes of _Zizyphus_ and _Daphne_, but mostly through very
beautiful forest of oak, alder, horse-chesnut, and ash. The river
varied much in character; but for the most part it flowed with great
rapidity over a rocky channel, and in one place formed a cataract of
some size. More than once, however, and always above the most rapid
parts, it was tranquil, though still swift, and flowed between
gravelly islands. The hills on both sides were steep and lofty, and
after the first two miles, patches of snow occurred in every ravine. I
passed several villages and a good deal of cultivation, and encamped
at Chishot, at about 8200 feet above the level of the sea.
[Sidenote: ASCENT OF
BUTNA VALLEY.
_June, 1848._]
Next day, at starting, the road lay through pine-forests for about two
miles, the elevation rapidly increasing. At about that distance, there
was a very long rapid or cataract, with a fall of several hundred feet
within a space of 150 or 200 yards. At the lower end of the rapid, the
river disappeared under a snow-bed, which formed an arch across it
from bank to bank. Above, the stream was wide and tranquil, and the
pine-forest ceasing, the road entered an open valley, with much
cultivation around the village of Himor. Along the water-courses by
which the lands of this village were irrigated, there was a good deal
of swampy ground, in which grew _Parnassia_, _Polygonum viviparum_, an
_Orchis_ not unlike _O. latifolia_, a _Triglochin_, and some
_Carices_, all Kunawar species. Beyond the village, the valley
continued open and bare, but was very rocky, and covered with large
boulders. There was no wood, except in the ravines, which were
occupied by groves of poplar (_P. ciliata_) and walnut; a few trees of
the same and of birch being scattered over the hill-sides. No oak or
Gerard's pine was seen during the day. The herbaceous vegetation on
the open sunny banks was very luxuriant, and the species were mostly
the same as I have recorded in a similar situation, and at the same
elevation, on the 13th, after descending from the Sach pass. I must
except the _Eremurus_, then so abundant, which was here entirely
wanting. There were also a few novelties. Large tracts were covered
with a tall fern (_Pteris aquilina_?). After passing through the
cultivated lands of a second village, and crossing some snow-beds, the
road entered a wood of stunted deodars, and, turning to the left,
proceeded up the more northerly of two ravines, into which the valley
here divided. That to the south, which in direction was a continuation
of the valley, was filled with forest, but the one up which the road
turned was steep and stony, and contained only a few scattered trees
of birch, hazel, and poplar. After a march of about eight miles, I
encamped on an open level spot, where there were a few fields, and one
or two huts, at present uninhabited, at an elevation of 10,500 feet.
[Sidenote: VIEW OF THE GLACIER.
_June, 1848._]
On the 20th, I proceeded further up the same valley, ascending gently
but steadily. The valley was open and bounded on both sides by steep
rocky mountains, those on the right partially wooded with birch, on
the other side quite bare. Behind, beyond the point from which I had
the day before turned abruptly to the left, rose a lofty snowy peak,
very steep and rocky; in front, only a very small portion of the snowy
range which I was rapidly approaching could be seen. The stream was
for the most part covered with snow, and the road crossed numerous
snow-beds. At first, the hill-sides were rounded and covered with
vegetation, but very soon the road became rocky, and was covered as
yesterday with enormous boulders, evidently indicative of a former
glacier. These were all gneiss, which rock also occurred _in situ_, as
had been the case ever since I had left Chatargarh, where it replaced
the clay-slate, which had been common on the banks of the Chenab.
After walking for about two miles among these huge masses of rock, I
suddenly emerged into open country, and, after descending a few feet,
entered a level plain, nearly two miles in length and at least half a
mile in width, partly covered with snow stretching down from the
ravines on each side. This plain appeared to have been at one time the
bed of a small lake; and as its lower end was crossed by an evident
moraine, it seems probable that a glacier had at some former period
crossed the valley and dammed up the channel of the stream. Small
groves of willow of two distinct species, one twelve to fifteen feet
high, the other not above two or three, were scattered over this
plain. The surface, where free from snow, was usually grassy, and near
the lower end very swampy. The snow had evidently very recently
covered the whole surface, as few plants were yet in flower, except a
bright blue gentian in the marshy parts, and a viscid _Cerastium_ on
the gravel. A species of rhubarb was abundant on the banks surrounding
this plain, and its acid leaf-stalks were eagerly eaten by the men who
carried my luggage. The road traversed the whole length of this level
tract, and, at its upper end, crossed two low ridges of boulders,
evidently moraines. Beyond these lay another plain, much more barren
and desolate-looking than the previous one, the greater part being
still covered with snow. Those parts from which the snow had melted
were gravelly, with scarce a vestige of vegetation. I encamped on the
last bare spot of this plain, close to extensive snow-beds, from below
which the stream flowed, and about a mile from the end of a large
glacier which filled up the end of the valley, but was cut off
abruptly at the commencement of the open plain. The elevation of my
tent was 11,400 feet. The plain on which I was encamped was surrounded
on all sides by lofty mountains, all extremely steep and rugged. Those
to the south and east were covered with snow to the very base, but to
the north little or no snow was visible, the hills close at hand
rising so abruptly that they entirely excluded the view of the ranges
behind. The southern slopes from the base to the height of about 1000
feet were covered with birch-trees, still quite leafless, except a few
on the edge of the plain, which were beginning to throw out buds, the
snow having melted round their roots.
On the 21st of June I continued my journey over the snow-bed close to
which I had encamped, in the direction of the end of the glacier.
While still several hundred yards distant from it, the road turned
abruptly to the left, ascending a very steep stony hill, which formed
the side of a lateral ravine descending from the north. When I had
ascended a few hundred feet, I obtained an excellent view of the
glacier which occupied the valley below. Its surface, from the great
slope of the valley, was extremely irregular, and to all appearance
quite impassable, from the numerous fissures which traversed it in
every direction, and the irregular pinnacles of ice which rose above
its surface. It was terminated abruptly by a perpendicular cliff,
which projected more in the centre than on the sides, and was much and
deeply fissured both horizontally and perpendicularly. The glacier was
in parts covered with masses of boulders and gravel, on which lay a
sprinkling of snow in small patches. The lateral moraines were well
marked, being much higher than the surface of the glacier, and
separated by a deep fissure from the rocky wall of the valley.
Immediately in front of the termination of the glacier, the surface of
the plain was free from snow; numerous boulders of large size were
scattered over it, and large masses of ice, evidently fragments of the
glacier, lay among them.
[Sidenote: ASCENT TOWARDS
BARDAR PASS.
_June, 1848._]
The ascent of the lateral ravine continued steep, sometimes over rock,
often over what appeared to be an ancient moraine, and now and then
over grassy sward, adorned with numerous alpine plants in full flower.
Among these was a little _Iris_, which I had seen the day before in
fruit, _Podophyllum_, _Fritillaria_, and a pretty rose-coloured
_Pedicularis_. There were a few stunted bushes of birch on the first
part of the ascent, but they were soon left behind. After ascending
about 1500 feet, I passed a singular-looking little circular plain,
perhaps half a mile in diameter, still covered with snow. The road lay
on the left of this plain over a hill of boulders. It now ascended
very rapidly, and soon reached another glacier, the termination of
which was extremely oblique, being prolonged much further on the right
or south-east side of the ravine than on the other. The slope of the
valley was so extremely abrupt, that the surface of the glacier was
fissured in a most extraordinary manner; and it was still partially
covered with snow. The road ascended over the moraine which lay
between the glacier and the wall of the valley, generally at a great
height above the level of the ice. In the crevices of the stones one
or two plants still lingered: _Primula minutissima_ was in flower, and
a little _Sedum_ and a dwarf willow (_S. repens_, L.) were beginning
to expand their buds. My day's march amounted to about five miles, and
I encamped upon the moraine on a level piece of ground just large
enough to hold my tent, and close to the glacier. The temperature of
boiling water indicated an elevation of about 14,600 feet. All around
was snow and ice, except one steep sloping bank facing the south, on
the most sheltered corner of which my baggage porters established
themselves. On this bank vegetation had already made considerable
progress: at least a dozen species were in flower, of which the most
abundant were a rose-coloured _Polygonum_, a _Potentilla_, and
_Ranunculus_, and, most abundant of all, a beautiful blue
_Gymnandra_.
The surface of the glacier opposite to my tent was much covered with
debris, and many large boulders were imbedded in the ice, which was
very much fissured, rising into sharp pinnacles. As the day advanced,
it was traversed by numerous rills of water, and the sound of falling
stones was heard in every direction.
I had hitherto been extremely fortunate in weather, considering the
season; but just at sunset, a few light clouds having first appeared
in the south horizon, the sky became suddenly overcast, and light snow
began to fall. Very little fell during the night, but at daybreak on
the 22nd of June, just as I was preparing to start, it began to snow
rather heavily. I had unfortunately no choice but to proceed. The
place in which I was encamped was not at all adapted for a
resting-place during a heavy fall of snow; and arrangements had
already been made for the relief of the baggage porters who had come
with me, by a party of Zanskaries at the top of the pass on this day.
[Sidenote: LARGE GLACIER.
_June, 1848._]
The first part of the ascent lay up the moraine parallel to the
glacier, and was extremely steep for nearly 1000 feet of perpendicular
elevation, up to the top of the very abrupt ravine in which I had been
encamped. Beyond this, the valley widened considerably; and as its
slope was now very gentle, the glacier was quite smooth, and the path
lay over its surface, which was covered by a considerable layer (five
or six inches) of last winter's snow, as well as by a sprinkling of
that which had fallen during the night. The ice was a good deal
fissured, but in general the fissures were not more than a few inches
in width; a few only were as much as two feet. The road continued for
two or three miles over the surface of the glacier, which gradually
widened out as I advanced. Its upper part was expanded into an icy
plain of great width, bounded by a semicircular arch of precipitous
rocks, except where three ravines descended into it, down which three
narrow glaciers flowed to contribute a supply of ice to the vast mass
in the bay. On the smooth ice below, central moraines were very
visible, and could be distinctly traced to the rocks by which the
three smaller glaciers were separated. A great part of these central
moraines were covered with snow; but now and then an immense detached
boulder of gneiss was seen, supported by a column of clear blue ice,
veined with horizontal white bands, by which it was raised high above
the surface of the glacier, and the snow which covered it.
[Sidenote: SUMMIT OF PASS.
_June, 1848._]
The three branches which united to form this grand sea of ice were
very steep, and consequently much fissured and fractured. The road lay
up that to the right, ascending by the moraine to the left of the
glacier, the surface of the ice being quite impracticable. This
ascent, which I estimated at the time to amount to at least 1000 feet,
was exceedingly steep and laborious, as beneath a thin layer of fresh
snow it was covered with hard frozen snow, on which the footing was
quite insecure. On attaining the summit of this steep ascent, I found
the surface of the glacier much more smooth, the inclination of the
bed of the ravine having suddenly changed; it was now, however,
covered with a layer of snow several feet thick, which probably tended
to render small inequalities of surface unobservable. I was now in a
wide valley or basin, the rocky hills on both sides rising
precipitously to a height of from 200 to 1000 feet above the level of
the snow. After perhaps two miles of gradual ascent, these rocky walls
gradually closing in united in a semicircle in front, and the road
passed through a gorge or fissure in the ridge, to the crest of which
the snow-bed had gradually sloped up. This fissure, which was not more
than two feet in width, was the pass, but when I reached it, snow was
falling so thickly that I could not see ten yards in any direction. I
therefore remained only long enough to ascertain that the
boiling-point of water was 180·3°, indicating an elevation of at least
18,000 feet.
The commencement of the descent was very rapid down a narrow gorge,
into which the fissure at the top widened by degrees. The fresh snow,
which had fallen to the depth of at least a foot, was quite soft and
yielding, so that great caution was required. After four or five
hundred yards, the slope became more gradual and the ravine
considerably wider. The road was now evidently over the surface of a
glacier. The mountains on both sides were extremely rocky, rugged, and
precipitous. Each lateral ravine brought an additional stream of ice
to swell that in the central one; and on each lateral glacier there
was a moraine which had to be crossed. Further on, the slope again
increasing, the road left the surface of the glacier, and ascended the
moraine by its side. This was at first covered with deep snow, both
old and fresh; but as I advanced I found the old snow only in patches,
but covered with a layer of new. At last I reached a point at which
the snow melted as it fell, and not long after the glacier stopped
abruptly, a considerable stream issuing from beneath the
perpendicular wall by which it terminated.
[Sidenote: IMMENSE GLACIER.
_June, 1848._]
Beyond the end of the glacier the valley continued very steep. It was
several hundred feet across, and covered with loose stones of various
sizes, over which the stream ran in a wide shallow channel. Lower
down, the bed of the rivulet became contracted and rocky, and I
crossed to its right bank over a natural bridge consisting of one
large stone, ten or twelve feet long, which had fallen so as to lie
across the rocky channel. Advancing a few paces beyond this bridge, I
suddenly found myself at the end of the ravine, and overlooking a wide
valley many hundred feet below, filled by an enormous glacier
descending from the left. This glacier was completely covered with a
mass of debris, which entirely concealed the ice, and from its
enormous dimensions must have had a very distant source. I had no
means at the time of determining with accuracy either its width or
depth, nor do I find any estimate of it (except in superlatives) in my
notes made on the spot; I cannot, therefore, at this distance of time,
venture to give any exact dimensions: I can only say that it much
exceeded in size any that I have before or since had an opportunity of
seeing.
It was just at the termination of the upper ravine that the first
traces of vegetation were observed: till reaching this point the rocks
and gravel had been quite bare. The first plant observed was _Primula
minutissima_; the only other in flower was a large purple-coloured
_Crucifera_ (a species of _Parrya_), but leaves of several others were
beginning to expand.
[Sidenote: ZANSKAR.
_June, 1848._]
The road did not descend at once into the large valley, but, turning
abruptly to the right, ran parallel to the glacier but high above it
on the rocky mountain-side, for nearly a mile, gradually descending so
as to reach the bottom of the valley just as the glacier ended. The
valley beyond its termination was wide and stony, and I encamped among
a number of very large boulders about half a mile further on. The
elevation of my camp was 13,800 feet, so that I had descended upwards
of 4000 feet from the top of the pass. I found that the inhabitants on
the two sides of the pass knew it by different names, those of Padar,
on the south, calling it the Bardar pass, while to the Zanskaries it
is known as Umasi La.
The morning of the 23rd of June was bright and clear, but intensely
frosty. The valley in which I was encamped was enclosed by lofty
mountains covered with much snow, though on the level ground there
were only a few patches. The road lay down the valley, which soon
became narrow and stony, and the descent somewhat rapid. The ground
was at first quite bare, and devoid of any sort of vegetation, except
here and there on the bank of the stream, where, close to the water's
edge, a small patch of green was occasionally to be seen. The
narrowest parts of the ravine were occupied by large snow-beds,
entirely covering the rivulet, but at intervals the valley widened out
into a gravelly plain. After about a mile, some vegetation began to
appear, and after four or five miles it became plentiful. The banks of
the stream, in the wide and gravelly parts, were fringed with dwarf
willows just bursting into leaf. _Primula minutissima_ was plentiful
in the crevices of the stones, and I met with many plants scattered
about, of which none but the very earliest were yet in flower. Two or
three species only could be identified with the plants of the Indian
side of the pass; the majority were quite different. _Lithospermum
Euchromon_ of Royle, and the _Parrya_ first seen the day before, were
among the commonest species; several other _Cruciferæ_ were also seen,
as well as a _Gentiana_, one or two _Astragali_, a species of
_Meconopsis_, a small _Gagea_, _Ephedra_, and _Nepeta glutinosa_.
Species of _Artemisia_, _Cynoglossum_ and other _Boragineæ_, of
_Polygonum_ and _Rheum_, though not in flower, were recognizable, but
the greater number of plants were only beginning to vegetate. As I
descended, a few shrubs of _Lonicera hispida_ and of _Rosa Webbiana_
(the Tibet rose) were met with, but all very stunted.
[Sidenote: VALLEY OF ZANSKAR.
_June, 1848._]
The valley continued to descend, and the snow soon receded to some
distance up the mountain-sides. At last I came to a single habitation,
a little monastery inhabited by one Lama, and built under the
precipitous rocks on the left side of the valley. A very small patch
of cultivation lay on the bank of the stream just below it; the corn
was not more than two or three inches high. A little further on, the
road suddenly turned into a much larger and more open valley, watered
by a considerable stream, which ran through a wide, open, gravelly
channel, from which long and very slightly inclined gravelly slopes
extended on both sides to the base of the mountains. The stream proved
to be the western branch of the Zanskar river. To the north-westward
of the point where I entered its valley, its upward course was visible
for eight or ten miles, all the way through an open gravelly plain.
Several villages and a good deal of cultivation were seen in that
direction, on the slopes descending from the mountains.
My road lay to the eastward down the valley, partly through cultivated
lands, partly over barren gravelly or stony plains, and often over
grassy meadows on the banks of the river. Wheat, barley, and peas were
the crops cultivated, all only a few inches in height. Round the
fields and on the banks of the water-courses a luxuriant herbage was
beginning to spring up, which contrasted strongly with the sterility
of the stony plains. The fields were quite flat and generally
unenclosed, the valley being too level to require terracing; small
canals conducted water for irrigation to every field. The villages
were all small and bare, and during the day I saw only a single
tree--a small poplar--in a garden or enclosure at one of the last
villages through which I passed, before halting for the day. I
encamped, after a march of at least twelve miles, near the village of
Markim, on a fine grassy plain close to the river, the banks of which
were lined by a few bushes of _Myricaria_ and _Hippophaë_. The
elevation of my tent was 12,100 feet.
In the valley of the Chenab the prevailing rock had everywhere been
clay-slate, but where I turned up the valley of the Butna it was
replaced by gneiss, which continued to form the whole mountain-mass on
both sides of the Umasi pass, so far as I could infer the nature of
their structure from the boulders brought down by glaciers. On the
earlier part of this day's journey, the gneiss gave place again to
mica-slate and clay-slate; but in the wide valley, where no rock was
seen _in situ_, the boulders were all composed of gneiss, and had
probably, therefore, been transported from the upper part of the
mountains.
[Sidenote: PADUM.
_June, 1848._]
On the 24th of June I continued my journey to Padum, which is
considered the capital of Zanskar. My road lay still east, down a
wide, open plain. The mountains on the north side of the valley were
not to appearance very lofty, and were merely tipped with snow; those
to the south were much higher and had a great deal of snow, which,
however, did not come within perhaps 1500 feet of the plain. There was
no snow in the plain itself, which had a width of from two to four
miles. Cultivated tracts were frequent, occurring wherever water was
easily procurable for irrigation, but the greater part of the surface
was dry, barren, and stony, producing scarcely any herbage. The river
ran through a wide, gravelly bed, and was divided into numerous
channels. It was often fringed with low jungle of _Myricaria_ and
_Hippophaë_, two shrubs which, though not entirely confined to Tibet,
are most abundant in every part of that country up to nearly 14,000
feet, in the gravelly beds of streams. In some places the banks of the
stream were very low and swampy, and covered with turf. About half-way
down the plain the different branches of the river united into one,
which ran with a swift impetuous current over the boulders which
formed its bed, the melting of the snow on the mountains having
brought down a very large body of water. At this point it was crossed
by a rope-bridge, leading to a large village on the left bank. A
little further on I passed through a considerable village, with
extensive cultivated lands, and a large well-built monastery, in
which, I believe, Csoma de Körös resided while in Zanskar. The road
then made a considerable detour to the south, to the base of the
mountains, to reach a bridge over a lateral stream now so much swollen
as to be unfordable. After crossing this stream by a good wooden
bridge, the road entered an open grassy plain sloping imperceptibly
from the mountains towards the river, at the south-east angle of which
lay the town or village of Padum.
Padum, which was at one time the principal place in Zanskar, is,
though now much decayed, still considered as such, probably both from
its central situation and from the garrison of Gulab Singh's troops
being established near it. It is built on a low hill lying at the
south-east corner of a wide open plain which surrounds the junction of
two large streams which here unite to form the Zanskar river. Of
these, one descending from the south runs through a rocky and barren
country, which contains, I was informed, but few and small villages.
It is that to which Moorcroft, who crossed it near its source, has
given the name of Zanskar; and as it appears to the eye the larger
stream of the two, it will probably be found entitled to retain the
name, although the district watered by the western branch, which runs
gently through an open country, is much more fertile and populous. The
junction of these two streams takes place four or five miles north of
Padum. The plain is partly low and partly a platform nearly a hundred
feet above the level of the rivers.
[Sidenote: CLIMATE OF ZANSKAR.
_June, 1848._]
Entirely secluded by lofty ranges of snowy mountains from the approach
of any moisture-bringing winds, the valley of Zanskar has an
absolutely Tibetan climate. Tree vegetation is entirely wanting, and
the mountains and plains are dry, barren, and desolate. At the same
time, from the dryness of the summer, the powerful influence of the
sun induces here, as elsewhere in Tibet, a much milder climate than
prevails at an equal elevation within the influence of the periodical
rains, for in no part of the Indian portion of the mountains does any
cultivated valley exist at an elevation of 12,000 feet above the level
of the sea. The extent of open country is more considerable in this
portion of the Zanskar valley than elsewhere in the basin of the
Indus. Villages also are frequent, particularly in the lower part, and
the cultivated lands of many of them are extensive. The alluvial
platforms are of great extent, and so nearly level, that no terracing
is required for purposes of irrigation. On this account, and from the
total want of fences, the appearance of the plain is remarkable, and
very different from that usual around Tibetan villages. At the period
of my visit, the crops were only a few inches in height, and the whole
population were busy in the fields, irrigating them and keeping out
straggling cattle. The inhabitants, in appearance, manners, and mode
of life, are the same as those of Ladak; their language and religion
too are the same, as far as I could learn.
[Sidenote: VEGETATION OF ZANSKAR.
_June, 1848._]
The change of climate was, as a matter of course, accompanied by an
almost total change of vegetation, which had assumed entirely the
Tibetan character. Scarcely more than a fourth, on a rough estimate,
of the species observed, were the same as grew on the Indian side of
the pass. Of these, a very few were cosmopolitan or widely-diffused
plants. Such were _Thymus Serpyllum_, _Plantago Asiatica_,
_Taraxacum_, _Veronica biloba_, _Medicago lupulina_, and _Polygonum
aviculare_ or a closely-allied species. The greater number were
species of the dry climate, which, from being capable of bearing a
certain quantity of moisture, vegetate also in the first valleys on
the opposite side of the pass, though quite incapable of living under
the full influence of the rains: as instances, I may mention _Rosa
Webbiana_, _Myricaria_, _Hippophaë_, _Ephedra_, _Aquilegia
Moorcroftiana_, and several _Astragali_.
Excluding both these classes, more than two-thirds of the plants were
entirely different from those which flourish on the Indian side. The
season was early spring, so that a great part of the vegetation was
still dormant, but it was making rapid strides under the influence of
a powerful sun, particularly in the neighbourhood of the town of
Padum, which appeared to be the warmest nook in the valley. The dry,
barren tracts, which constitute the greater part of the surface,
produced numerous, generally dwarf species of _Boragineæ_ and
_Cruciferæ_. Three _Potentillæ_ were common, one of them _P.
anserina_. Near the river there was a more luxuriant vegetation. Rank
species of _Heracleum_, _Astragalus_, _Scrophularia_, _Matthiola_, and
_Eurotia_ were coming into flower under the shelter of walls and
bushes. In richer soil a species of _Hyoscyamus_, with pale yellow
trumpet-shaped flowers (_Belenia_ of Decaisne), was common, while
around the fields grew species of _Geranium_, _Cynoglossum_, _Nepeta_,
and _Astragalus_. Except a little _Poa_, no grasses were yet in
flower, but several small _Cyperaceæ_ formed dense patches of turf.
The meadows close to the edge of the river were invariably swampy, and
had a peculiar vegetation of their own, consisting of two species of
_Triglochin_, a white-flowered _Taraxacum_, a little _Primula_,
_Ranunculus Cymbalaria_, and _Glaux_, with _Hippuris_ and
_Utricularia_ in the pools of water.
FOOTNOTES:
[19] A species of vine was very common in the forests, climbing to a
great height on the trees, which very closely resembled the common
cultivated vine, from which it is not, I think, specifically distinct.
At the same time, my specimens are scarcely distinguishable from
_Vitis Indica_, L., a species of the plains of India, not uncommon in
hot jungles, even at a considerable distance from the foot of the
mountains.