Rope bridge across Zanskar river -- Tongde -- Zangla -- Road
leaves Zanskar river -- Takti La -- Nira -- Bridge over Zanskar
river -- Singhi La -- Phutaksha -- Wandla -- Lama Yuru -- Cross
Indus river -- Kalatze -- Nurla -- Saspola -- Nimo -- Le --
Pass north of Le -- Small glacier -- Kardong -- Kalsar --
Vegetation -- Diskit -- Passage of Shayuk river -- Upper Nubra
-- Vegetation of Nubra -- Hot spring at Panamik.
[Sidenote: TONGDE.
_June, 1848._]
I remained at Padum two days, to make inquiries as to the road and
arrangements for porters and supplies. On the 27th of June, I
commenced my journey towards the Indus. The road lay down the valley
of Zanskar, crossing the eastern branch of that river opposite the
town of Padum, by a rather insecure-looking rope-bridge, high above
the stream, which was deep, rapid, and muddy. The rope, as is usual in
Tibet, was formed of willow twigs. After crossing this bridge, I
followed the right bank of the stream in a north-easterly direction,
principally over dry, desert, stony plains, considerably elevated
above the river. These high banks were composed of fine clay, which
was occasionally quite pure, but more frequently contained numerous
fragments of a black slate rock. These were especially abundant where
lateral ravines descended from the mountains, while in the
intervening spaces the clay was comparatively free of them. The same
black slate cropped out _in situ_ in several places along the bank of
the river; and from the numerous boulders everywhere scattered over
the surface of the platform, it appeared to be the prevailing rock in
the mountains on the right. The platforms usually terminated abruptly,
being either scarped or sloping very steeply towards the river. A
strip of low, wet, grassy ground, which was more or less covered with
_Hippophaë_ jungle, was generally interposed between the cliffs and
the river. When this was absent, the steep slopes were barren till
close to the water's edge. On the left bank of the river, after the
first two miles, the table-land sank, an extensive low plain forming a
tongue of land between the two branches. On this low land, close to
the eastern river, and about two miles from the town of Padum, lay the
fort occupied by the military force of the valley: a small square,
with four round bastions. After marching nine or ten miles, I encamped
at a small village called Tongde, among undulating clay hills, by
which the view of the river and valley was excluded. Nearly opposite,
a mile or two below the junction of the two rivers, was Karsha, at
present the largest town in Zanskar: it lies in a ravine at a
considerable distance from the river, and, from the steepness of the
slope on which it is built, presents rather an imposing appearance.
The level tract intervening between the town and the river was covered
with cultivation.
[Sidenote: ZANGLA.
_June, 1848._]
On the 28th, I continued along the valley, but in a more northerly
direction than the day before. The lofty snowy range to the south-west
was now finely seen, forming a semicircle of rocky peaks behind
Padum. The road lay again over dry plains, partly stony, partly hard
clay; even the banks of the river were dry and stony, without a
vestige of turf. The only species worthy of note which occurred during
the day, in addition to the plants common on these barren tracts, was
_Oxytropis chiliophylla_: it was very scarce at the beginning of the
march, but before I had reached half-way it had become so abundant
that at a distance the ground appeared of a bright red colour, from
the immense abundance of its flowers. Several villages were passed on
the road, and two considerable streams, both of which had excavated
deep ravines in the loose conglomerate of which the plateau was
formed. On the latter part of the march, the mountains which formed
the right side of the valley approached close to the river, leaving no
passage along the bank, so that the road made a short steep ascent
over loose shingly debris and rocky ground, and continued for more
than a mile along the face of the ridge. After that distance, it
descended to a grassy, saline, very swampy plain, close to the river.
I encamped at the village of Zangla, which lies at the base of the
mountains, on the upper part of a steep stony slope, extending down to
the river.
The alluvial platforms during this day's journey were generally of
great thickness. This was especially the case around Tongde, where the
clay formation formed considerable hills; and on the latter part of
the march, where the mountains advanced nearly to the stream. Here
high banks of clay were accumulated on the ridges, and were
frequently, as in many other parts of Tibet, worn into fantastic
shapes by the melting of the snow. Near Zangla, too, detached masses
were seen clinging to the sides of the mountains, at considerable
heights, in positions which indicated great denudation.
[Sidenote: THE ROAD LEAVES
THE VALLEY OF ZANSKAR.
_June, 1848._]
The result of my inquiries at Padum had been, that the lower part of
the course of the Zanskar river (which I had hoped I might be able to
follow to its junction with the Indus) was so rocky and difficult as
to be impracticable, and that at the present season, when the torrents
were all swollen by the melting snow, the only practicable road to the
Indus lay through the mountains, at a distance from the river. I was
now approaching the point where the road entered the mountains, and
could already see that the fine open valley through which I had been
travelling was soon to have an end. At Zangla it had become sensibly
narrower, and the mountains on both sides, still tipped with snow,
were extremely rocky and rugged.
The earlier part of the march of the 29th of June was still parallel
to the river, partly over table-land, at other times through a dense
jungle of _Hippophaë_, which covered its low banks, as well as several
islands in its channel. After about four miles, the road turned
suddenly to the right, and, leaving the valley altogether, commenced a
rapid ascent on the steep slope of the mountain. From the point at
which the road turned off, the Zanskar valley ahead could be seen to
narrow rapidly, by the closing-in of the mountains. A turn in its
direction, at the distance of four or five miles, hid the further
course of the river from view, but the steep scarped mountains, which
seemed to rise almost perpendicularly from its bed, left no doubt of
the difficult nature of the country through which it ran.
The first part of the ascent was very steep and bare. A prickly
_Statice_, in dense round tufts, made its appearance after the first
few hundred feet, accompanied by another very common Tibetan plant,
which had not been met with in the open plain, a species of _Cicer_,
described by Bentham as _C. microphyllum_, if indeed the Siberian _C.
Soongaricum_ be not the same species. This plant is remarkable, not
only for a very viscid exudation, but also for its peculiar strong
aromatic and pungent odour, which, except that it is very much more
powerful, a good deal resembles that of its cultivated congener _C.
arietinum_, the well-known _gram_ of Upper India. It also recalls to
mind the smell of the common black currant, which, however, is more
aromatic and less pungent and acidulous. On the lower part of the
ascent the prevailing rock was limestone, of a dark bluish-grey
colour, extremely hard, containing many white veins and crystals of
calcareous spar; it closely resembled the limestone of the Hangarang
pass, and, like it, alternated with hornstone and cherty quartz rock,
and with finely laminated slates.
[Sidenote: MOUNTAINS ON RIGHT BANK
OF ZANSKAR RIVER.
_June, 1848._]
On leaving the bare slope, the road entered a narrow ravine, and
continued to ascend rapidly along the bank of the streamlet which
trickled down it. The ravine was full of loose angular stones, and had
on both sides high rocky precipices of limestone and slate. Close to
the little rivulet, a willow, a _Lonicera_, and a rose grew in great
plenty among the loose stones, forming a dense bushy mass of green,
six or eight feet high, which contrasted strongly with the barrenness
of the shingle remote from the water, and of the rocky walls on either
side. The ascent was rapid, and ere long, as the elevation increased,
the shrubby vegetation disappeared, and the only plants which grew
among the loose fragments of slate were a few small alpine species:
_Anemone_, _Corydalis_, _Thermopsis_, and _Androsace_, were the genera
to which these hardy plants belonged. In the crevices of the rocks, a
large fleshy-leaved saxifrage, of the subgenus _Bergenia_, was common:
it was a different species from either of the two hitherto described
from India, as well as from _S. crassifolia_ of Siberia, and was
particularly interesting as a connecting link between these two
floras. Further on, the ascent became more gentle; a few small patches
of snow were passed, and soon after, the road ascended a very steep
and shingly slope after the north side of the ravine, to the crest of
a ridge, the elevation of which I estimated at about 15,500 feet.
The top of the ridge was rounded, and had more soil, and, as a
consequence, more vegetation, than the stony dell below. Several
plants of the valley reappeared, particularly _Lithospermum Euchromon_
and a species of _Cynoglossum_, both of which seem to have a wide
range in altitude. A few new species of _Cruciferæ_ and _Astragalus_
were obtained on the ridge. There was a very good and extensive view
to the north, of mountain behind mountain, all bare and desolate; but
in every other direction ridges close at hand intercepted the view.
The most distant ridge had much snow on it, and appeared very
elevated: I supposed it to be that between the Zanskar river and the
Indus. After leaving the ridge, the road gradually descended towards
the north, down a ravine full of fragments of slate: the hills on both
sides were low and rounded. On the descent, _Caragana versicolor_, the
_Dama_ of the Tibetans, occurred very plentifully; it is, however, in
general, much less common in the north-west parts of Tibet than
further to the south, where it is very luxuriant. Following the course
of the ravine, after a considerable distance, I observed bushes of
willow and _Lonicera_ to appear in the dry channel, and almost
immediately afterwards a little water was found trickling down it, so
that I was enabled to encamp, after rather a fatiguing march, at an
elevation of about 13,700 feet.
[Sidenote: NARROW RAVINE.
_June, 1848._]
Next day I continued to descend the ravine. The hills were now
considerably higher and more rugged than in the upper part, and were
faced by cliffs of a clayey conglomerate, partly soft, but often
indurated. A rapidly decaying yellowish slate, in highly inclined
strata, was seen occasionally in the bed of the river. The stream was,
as usual, fringed by willow and _Lonicera_; and a species of poplar,
forming a small tree, occurred frequently. There was scarcely a single
vestige of vegetation on the mountain-sides. After descending about
two miles, I reached a large ravine, the slope of which was much more
gradual. The banks were still composed of clay conglomerate, which
rose in lofty precipices on both sides; after about three miles,
however, this disappeared, and the ravine became very narrow and
rocky. The road was now very rugged, ascending high on the
mountain-side, and then descending to cross the stream. The limestone
cliffs, which here approached within ten or twelve feet of one
another, were marked with horizontal undulating grooves, perhaps
indicative of the former existence of a glacier in this spot. As I
advanced, after crossing to the right bank of the stream, the road
became still more rocky and difficult, till at last the ravine in
front became quite impracticable. I now turned suddenly to the right,
and entered a narrow passage with perpendicular walls of rock, down
which ran a very small streamlet. In this dark shady dell, which was
so narrow that the light of the sun could not possibly reach the
bottom, there were several large patches of snow. The ascent was at
first rapid, but after a mile and a half the slope became more gradual
and the ravine considerably wider. The usual shrubs then appeared on
the water's edge, close to which I encamped, after a march of perhaps
nine miles, at about 13,600 feet, very nearly the same elevation as
the place from which I had started in the morning, and in an equally
desert situation. The whole march was exceedingly barren, and without
any cultivation or village. A few small bushes of juniper (_J.
excelsa_) were met with about half-way, for the first time during my
present journey.
[Sidenote: TAKTI PASS.
_June, 1848._]
On the 1st of July, I continued the ascent of the ravine, which was
still extremely barren and stony, except in the immediate vicinity of
the stream, where the usual vegetation of willow and _Lonicera_
continued plentiful. A few birch-trees were seen on the road-side.
After following the ravine for nearly two miles, I reached a point at
which it divided into two branches. The luggage porters took that to
the right, which was said to be easier, but longer, while my guide led
me to the left, up a steep ravine, which, after a few hundred yards,
contracted to a mere fissure three to six feet in width, with very
lofty rocky walls, and full of loose shingle. In several places, large
masses of hard smooth ice had to be passed, which, from the steepness
of the slope, proved no easy task, and would certainly have been
almost an impossibility for loaded men. After passing through this
fissure, which, as usual, opened out in its upper part, the road
turned to the left up a long steep shingly hill-side, to the top of
the ridge, which was rounded. While in the ravine I saw no plants; but
on the shingly ascent a number of alpine species made their
appearance. One of the first was an _Anemone_, but by far the most
abundant was a yellow species of _Thermopsis_, which was in full
flower, and seemed to thrive best among loose stones. A small
_Veronica_, with bright blue flowers, occurred several times on the
ascent.
The pass over this ridge is called Takti La. Its elevation was,
according to my observation of the boiling-point of water, 16,360
feet. The mountains to the right and left, rising perhaps 1500 feet
higher than the pass, obstructed all view. Behind, the landscape was
shut in by a lofty snowy mountain, not a mile off; and in front, part
of the same snowy range which I had observed from the ridge two days
before, was visible. There was a good deal of vegetation at the top,
which was in part swampy round a small spring, where probably the snow
had only recently melted. The plants were all alpine: _Biebersteinia
odora_, a well-known North Asiatic form, was very common, with
several _Ranunculaceæ_ and _Cruciferæ_, and one or two species of
_Polygonum_.
[Sidenote: NIRA.
_July, 1848._]
On the steep shingly ascent which faced the south, I had met with no
snow till close to the top, when I saw a few very small patches. On
leaving the top of the pass, the road continued to run along the side
of the mountain on the left hand, nearly level for about a mile. As I
got more fully on the north face, I found snow lying in large patches,
which were melting rapidly; and when fairly on the northern slope, I
found that, though very steep, it was covered by a continuous bed of
snow from the very crest down to about 15,500 feet, as near as I could
guess. The view to the north, which, from the pass itself, had been
very limited, was now extensive. The range in front was everywhere
tipped with snow, and the road up to its crest, with the pass by which
I was to cross it, were distinctly visible. Between this range and
that on which I stood was interposed the deep ravine of the Zanskar
river, the course of which could be traced for a long way, though from
the precipitous rocks through which it ran, the stream itself could
not be seen.
I find it extremely difficult to describe in an adequate manner the
extreme desolation of the most barren parts of Tibet, where no
luxuriant forest or bright green herbage softens the nakedness of the
mountains, but everywhere the same precipices, heaps of rocks, and
barren monotonous deserts meet the eye. The prospect now before me was
certainly most wonderful. I had nowhere before seen a country so
utterly waste. At the great elevation on which I stood I completely
overlooked the valley, and the two or three villages which I
afterwards found to exist were either seen as mere spots, or concealed
by ranges of hills. Directly in front, across the Zanskar river, a
rocky precipice, worn and furrowed in every direction, and broken into
sharp pinnacles, rose to the height of at least 2000 feet, overhanging
a deep ravine, while to the right and left mountain was heaped upon
mountain in inextricable confusion, large patches of snow crowning the
highest parts.
From the edge of the snow I descended rapidly to the village of Nira.
On the earlier part of the descent, the ground was soft and miry from
the recent melting of the snow, which still lay in the more shady
parts in large patches. A bright yellow _Ranunculus_, with numerous
petals, and the pretty _Lloydia serotina_ were plentiful close to the
snow. Further down, the road was extremely stony, and the descent very
abrupt, but towards the end I followed the course of a small
streamlet, the margins of which were skirted by a belt not more than a
foot in width of vividly green turf. The village of Nira, in which I
encamped, was 12,900 feet above the level of the sea: its cultivated
lands were extensive, and both in the village and on the hills around,
juniper-trees of considerable size were common.
[Sidenote: CROSS ZANSKAR RIVER.
_July, 1848._]
[Sidenote: YULCHUNG.
_July, 1848._]
On the 2nd of July I crossed the Zanskar river to the village of
Yulchung (13,700 feet). At Nira, besides the usual crops of barley,
there was a good deal of buckwheat, which was just above ground. The
fields were bordered, as usual, by a rank vegetation. A _Nepeta_, very
like _N. Sibthorpiana_, was quite new to me, and a tall erect
_Wahlenbergia_, with very large pale greenish-blue flowers, and
coarse, somewhat fetid leaves, was very abundant, just coming into
flower; the rest of the plants observed were the same as in the upper
part of Zanskar. The stream which ran by the village had in some
places spread out into a marshy meadow, in which a large pink-flowered
_Cardamine_ or _Dentaria_ occurred plentifully, with _Orchis
latifolia_? a white _Juncus_, and many common plants.
Below the village the descent was bare and stony, and extremely abrupt
the whole way down to the river; the Tibetan rose was in full flower
on the road-side. The river did not come into sight till it was close
at hand, the bottom of the ravine through which it flowed being narrow
and rocky. A common wooden bridge, without side-rails, forty or fifty
feet above the surface of the water, was thrown over at the narrowest
part, where the stream was hemmed in by high rocky walls, and was, I
think, not more than forty feet broad. The current was rapid, and the
water much discoloured. The course of the river at the bridge was
easterly, but below, after a slight bend to the south of east, the
valley seemed to take a more northerly direction, and above the bridge
it came from the south-west. The banks of the river did not seem to be
at all practicable, and I was informed that it was only when the river
was frozen that travellers could proceed down it to Le. Accounts
differed much as to the length of time required for the journey, and I
could not discover that any of my party had ever travelled it, so that
I presume the route is not very much frequented.
Immediately after crossing the river, a long, steep, utterly barren
ascent commenced over stones and shingle. A deep ravine, with a small
stream at the bottom, lay to the right of the road, beyond which were
the lofty rugged precipices which had been so conspicuous from the
heights the day before. At about 13,000 feet I gained the summit of a
projecting ridge, which rose, a little to the right, into a rocky
peak, and then sank abruptly down to the ravine. The road then dipped
into a hollow filled with large boulders and fragments of rock,
perhaps of glacial origin, and rose again more gradually to a second
ridge, in the hollow beyond which lay the village at which I had
determined to encamp, its lowest houses overhanging the deep ravine on
the right. The elevation not being materially different from that of
Nira, the plants of the cultivated grounds were the same. _Potentilla
anserina_ was very plentiful, and remarkably luxuriant.
The rocks during the ascent were chiefly a very hard but very brittle
quartz or schist, alternating with loose crumbly slates, and a little
limestone. I diverged a little from the direct road, to visit an iron
mine, and to see the process of smelting. The ore was yellow ochre,
occurring in a breccia-looking conglomerate situated on the flanks of
a steep narrow ravine. There were two smelting furnaces, built of
stone, of a conical shape, three feet in height, and about six inches
in diameter at the top. The fuel employed was charcoal, and no flux
was mixed with the ore.
[Sidenote: SINGHI PASS.
_July, 1848._]
On the 3rd of July, I crossed Singhi La, the pass which I had seen so
distinctly on the 1st. The ascent commenced at once from the village
of Yulchung, over dry rounded hills, at the same time receding
considerably from the deep ravine on the right. No rock _in situ_ was
visible on the earlier part of the ascent, the hills being entirely
covered with coarse gravel and small stones, among which a spinous
_Astragalus_ and a species of _Polygonum_ were the predominant plants;
a glabrous _Artemisia_, a little _Euphorbia_, and the prickly
_Statice_, were also frequent. After about 1000 feet of ascent, plants
of the alpine zone began to appear. Afterwards the ascent was more
gentle, over similar ground, till I attained an elevation of about
15,000 feet; at which height the road was for some distance nearly
level, winding round a deep bay or hollow in the mountains, with high
hills rising on the left hand, and the deep ravine still on the right.
Several small streams were crossed, and many alpine plants seen, all
familiar to me, except a species of rhubarb, which grew among the
shingle in considerable quantity, and which is probably an undescribed
species.
After completing the circuit of the deep bay, the ascent recommenced,
but was not at all rapid, till within a few hundred yards of the top,
when a short steep pull occurred. On the latter part of the ascent,
from the loose, stony nature of the soil, vegetation was very scanty;
and at the top, which was rounded, there was absolutely none. The
elevation was 16,500 feet. Several large patches of snow occurred on
the south side when close to the top, but not continuously. The view
was extensive to the south, embracing a considerable portion of the
great snowy range north of the Chenab, which, from the great elevation
of the spot on which I stood, as well as of the intermediate ranges,
and from the much smaller quantity of snow on its northern face,
looked much less imposing than it does when viewed from the Indian
side. Right and left were huge rocky peaks, and in front the view was
obstructed by mountains close at hand, except to the north-west, in
which direction a long gently-sloping valley was visible, running
between two steep ridges, along which, I was informed, the next day's
journey lay. From the top of the pass I attempted to form an estimate
of the height of the neighbouring ranges, taking the quantity of snow
as a guide, and it appeared to me that they were in general between 19
and 20,000 feet, a few isolated peaks only exceeding that altitude.
Such guesses, however, are necessarily extremely vague.
Quartzy rock, slate, and limestone, alternated during the ascent; and
near the summit of the pass the limestone evidently contained organic
remains, perhaps coralline, though the traces were not sufficiently
distinct to enable me to decide the point. The fossils were not
observed _in situ_, but the angular fragments in which they occurred
did not appear to have been transported from any distance.
On the north side of the pass a snow-bed commenced at the very crest,
down which the descent was very steep for a few hundred yards. The
snow was very soft, and was rapidly melting, but it possibly covered a
permanent mass of ice, as it terminated abruptly, and the valley at
its base was wide and but little inclined, with only a few patches of
snow. The ground near the snow was swampy, owing to the rapid thaw.
Here a little sweet-scented _Primula_ was abundant, with one or two
more alpine plants. The road followed the course of a wide arid
valley, descending very gently. Two species of rhubarb were common,
and a dwarf willow fringed the margins of the stream.
[Sidenote: PHUTAKSHA.
_July, 1848._]
As I advanced, the valley gradually narrowed, and on the right high
precipitous rocks ere long overhung the stream, so that I crossed to
the left bank, and, instead of keeping on the bottom of the valley,
proceeded horizontally along the hill-sides. A little further on, the
stream, which had hitherto had a north-west course, turned suddenly to
the north, and entered an extremely narrow rocky ravine, which to all
appearance was quite impassable. Here the road turned abruptly to the
left, and ascended to cross a low ridge. On attaining the summit an
open valley was seen 1000 feet below, which at its lower extremity
contracted into a fissure precisely similar to that just described;
and as the two ravines were only separated by a narrow rocky ridge,
which rose to the north into a high cliff, there can be no doubt that
the two streams joined a mile or two below. Descending gradually into
the valley, I encamped at the village of Phutaksha, at an elevation of
about 14,300 feet.
[Sidenote: LACUSTRINE CLAY.
_July, 1848._]
Notwithstanding its great elevation, the valley of Phutaksha was
partially cultivated. The fields formed a narrow belt parallel to the
stream, along which they extended almost up to 15,000 feet, but the
crops were scanty. The wild plants of the borders of the cultivated
land were the same as those common in Zanskar, and grew with great
luxuriance along the margins of the irrigation streamlets. Alluvial
boulder clay was common in the valley; and I saw also a great deal of
the fine cream-coloured clay, which I have elsewhere noticed as being
probably of lacustrine origin. The occurrence of this clay at an
elevation of upwards of 14,000 feet is rather uncommon, and here, as
well as elsewhere, appears to be accompanied by such a conformation of
the mountains as to render the former existence of a small lake
probable. Below Phutaksha, as I have already observed, the ravine of
the little stream is exceedingly narrow and rocky, and as likely as
any other part of Tibet to have been blocked up by alluvial deposits
so as to form a lake.
On the 4th of July my road lay up the valley. The banks of the little
stream were lined with most beautiful green turf, producing all the
characteristic plants already mentioned. I took the right-hand branch
of two which here united, and, on looking up the other, observed that
the snow-line on the northern slope of the mountains, at its head, was
very considerably above the level at which I stood; its height, where
lowest, seemed to be about 16,000 feet. In one small side-ravine there
was an incipient glacier. After leaving the cultivated lands the
valley became extremely stony and barren, fragments of a brittle
limestone rock being everywhere scattered about. The vegetation
changing to that of the alpine zone, several new species of
_Astragalus_ and _Phaca_ were collected. Following the streamlet
almost to its source, the road afterwards ascended to the top of a
steep ridge, elevated probably a little more than 16,000 feet; this
ridge was rocky, or covered with shingle of a dark slate, which had
succeeded to the limestone. The yellow _Thermopsis_ was almost the
only plant which grew on the summit, from which I had a fine view of
the pass crossed the day before, and of the range of mountains I had
left; but to the north there was no distant view, the valley bending
abruptly to the right.
[Sidenote: HANUPATA.
_July, 1848._]
From the top of the pass I descended rapidly along a deep valley,
generally at some height above the stream, to the village of Hanupata,
elevated 13,100 feet. This valley was throughout barren and stony, and
became very narrow in the lower part. _Dama_ was very plentiful, but
otherwise there was little novelty in the vegetation, except along the
bank of the stream in its upper part, where I made a rich collection
of small alpine species. A large-flowered _Aster_, a white
_Pyrethrum_, and a little _Pedicularis_, were the new species
obtained. In the lower part of the valley willow and _Lonicera_ as
usual appeared; and when close to Hanupata, I met with a shrubby
species of _Labiatæ_ (perhaps a _Ballota_) which is an extremely
common plant in the valley of the Indus from 7000 to 14,000 feet, but
seems never to occur far from that river.
[Sidenote: WANDLA RAVINE.
_July, 1848._]
On the 5th of July I proceeded down the same valley to Wandla, a
distance of about eleven miles. The fields of Hanupata occupied only a
narrow strip along the bank of the stream, the sides of the valley
being steep and rocky. The crops were much further advanced than any I
had hitherto seen; the barley in particular was very luxuriant, and
one field was already in ear. Along the margins of the field there was
the same rank herbage as usually occurs in similar situations. Lucerne
and melilot, both seemingly the common European species, were very
plentiful. Poplars and willows were cultivated; and I observed some
large juniper-trees. Beyond the cultivation the valley became very
narrow. The bed and banks of the stream were gravelly, and on the
latter grew a dense thicket of _Myricaria_, _Hippophaë_, willow, and
rose. After two or three miles there was not left space even for
these, the mountains coming so close together that in many places
there was not room to pass between them and the water. The current was
too rapid for fording, so that it repeatedly became necessary to
ascend to a considerable height in order to effect a passage. One of
these ascents was not much less than 1000 feet perpendicular, up a
narrow lateral ravine, and then over a very steep bank of loose
shingle, descending again with great abruptness to the water's edge.
The road also crossed the stream several times.
In one place I observed a very remarkable natural tunnel, where the
stream flowed below a solid mass of conglomerate rock, which formed an
arch obliquely across it. The conglomerate was exceedingly hard, and
rested on both sides on very soft friable slate, by the excavation of
which, by the action of the stream, the tunnel appeared to have been
formed. The original channel of the stream was still visible six or
eight feet higher than its present level a little to the right. The
ravine continued narrow and rocky for nearly seven miles, but during
the last two of these the road lay high upon the mountain-side, and
was tolerably level and good. Near the end the valley became wider,
and several small patches of cultivation appeared, with a few
apricot-trees; and a double yellow rose was planted near some of the
houses. The last mile of the day's journey was entirely through very
rich and luxuriant cultivation, which was further advanced than any I
had yet seen.
[Sidenote: WANDLA.
_July, 1848._]
The elevation of Wandla is only 11,000 feet, and the heat of the sun
was very oppressive. On the latter part of the march, many plants of
the Indus valley which were familiar to me from my journey of the year
before, but which I had not seen during my present visit to Tibet,
made their appearance. _Echinops_ and _Nepeta floccosa_, _Mulgedium
Tataricum_, a large and handsome yellow _Corydalis_, _Capparis_, and
numerous _Chenopodiaceæ_ were abundant. The leaves of _Tussilago
Farfara_ were common along the water-courses; in the corn-fields a
little viscid _Cerastium_ (_Lepyrodiclis_) was only too plentiful. By
far the most conspicuous plant was the rose (_R. Webbiana_), which, in
the rich and well-watered soil of the cultivated plain, grew most
luxuriantly, forming dense almost spherical bushes, many of which were
at least fifteen feet high, as much in diameter, and bushy down to the
ground. They were now in full bloom, and the foliage was almost
entirely concealed by the profusion of bright red flowers.
I was obliged to remain a day at Wandla, owing to the serious illness
of one of my servants, who, though a native of a mountainous country,
had suffered much more on the high passes than any of the inhabitants
of the plains of India, and was now so much exhausted as to be unable
to move. On the 7th, however, I proceeded towards the Indus, not a
little glad to be at last within a day's journey of that river, as I
was considerably later than I had originally calculated, not having
made allowance for the very rugged nature of the country between
Zanskar and Le.
[Sidenote: LAMAYURU.
_July, 1848._]
The valley of Wandla, I was informed, contracted again into a rocky
ravine a very little way below the village. This ravine was not quite
impracticable, but the stream had to be forded very frequently; and as
it was at least four feet deep, I was recommended to follow another
route, a little more circuitous, but free of difficulty. For the first
mile I proceeded up an open valley, which joined at a right angle from
the west that which I had descended on the 5th. I then turned to the
right up a very sterile ravine, with much saline efflorescence; in a
few places a small streamlet trickled among the stones, but for the
first part the channel was quite dry, the water filtering underneath
the gravel. The sides of the ravine were bare and shingly and without
vegetation, except at the entrance, where a _Corydalis_, thistle, and
one or two other plants occurred sparingly. On the most stony parts
_Güldenstädtia cuneata_, Benth., was common, and here and there in the
gravelly channel was a bush of _Myricaria_ (not _M. elegans_, but a
smaller and much less handsome species). After a gentle ascent of
about two miles, I gained the head of the ravine, and crossing a stony
ridge not high enough for alpine plants, descended another valley on
its north side, which, though at first if possible more barren than
the ascent, soon became somewhat green with willow-bushes and the
ordinary plants. After descending perhaps a thousand feet, I reached
an extensive tract of cultivation, just above which, in another
ravine, lay the village and monastery of Lamayuru, of which a
circumstantial account has been given by Moorcroft[20]. At this place,
I joined the road from Kashmir by Dras to Ladak, which has been
repeatedly traversed by European travellers, and is particularly
described in Moorcroft's Travels.
[Sidenote: INDUS VALLEY.
_July, 1848._]
[Sidenote: KALATZE.
_July, 1848._]
Below this village the valley contracted, and was for some distance
full of immense masses of lacustrine clay; lower down it became a
narrow rocky ravine. The road descended with great rapidity till I
reached the Wandla stream, which I had left in the morning; it was
afterwards less steep, following the banks of that river through a
winding rocky valley to its junction with the Indus, which was not
seen till close at hand. The valley of the Indus, where I entered it,
was very barren, with bare rugged mountains on both sides. A stony
platform of alluvial conglomerate usually intervened between the
mountains and the river, over which my road lay for about three miles
up the river, to a good wooden bridge, defended on the north side by a
small, very indifferent fort. By this bridge I crossed to the right
side of the river, and a mile further on reached the village of
Kalatze (or Kalsi, as it is commonly pronounced), at which I encamped.
In the lower part of the Wandla ravine, the clay-slate rock became
much indurated, and alternated with a very hard conglomerate, the
matrix of which had a semi-fused appearance, while the pebbles which
it contained were all rounded. This rock is very similar to, and
probably identical with, that of the Giah ravine north of the Tunglung
pass, and of the upper Indus. A modern conglomerate, with an indurated
sandy and calcareous matrix, in horizontal beds, rested unconformably
upon the more ancient rock, but afforded no indications by which I
could form an opinion of its exact age.
[Sidenote: VEGETATION OF VALLEY OF INDUS.
_July, 1848._]
The elevation of my tent at Kalatze I made to be 10,400 feet; but I
was encamped at the highest part of the village, and the bed of the
river was not much above 10,000 feet. The cultivated lands, which are
very extensive, lie on the top of a thick platform of alluvium,
through which the river has excavated a deep broad channel. The lands
of the village slope gradually from the base of the mountain to the
edge of the cliff overhanging the river, and the fields are made into
level terraces by walls of stones from three to six feet in height.
Numerous streams of water are conducted through the fields for
irrigation, upon which cultivation in Tibet entirely depends. The
crops had an appearance of great luxuriance: they consisted of wheat
and barley (both in full ear, the latter even beginning to turn
yellow), buckwheat, peas, and oil-seed (_Brassica Napus_). Fruit-trees
were abundant, chiefly apricots; but there was no deficiency of
apples, pears, walnuts, and mulberries. Along the water-courses and on
the edges of the fields grew plenty of wild plants, many the same as
occur everywhere in Tibet, but, from the diminished elevation,
numerous novelties were observed. A _Clematis_, with dingy
brownish-orange flowers, straggled over bushes; a shrubby _Ballota_
and a _Perowskia_ covered the walls; _Iris_, _Capsella_, _Veronica
biloba_ and _agrestis_, _Lamium amplexicaule_, _Mentha_, _Potentillæ_,
_Plantago Asiatica_, _Thalictrum_, and numerous other plants grew
along the water-courses; while in the fields among the corn the weeds
were much the same as are common in Europe and in the plains of India
in the cold season; _Vaccaria_, _Silene conoidea_, _Stellaria media_,
_Malva rotundifolia_, and _Convolvulus arvensis_ being plentiful.
[Sidenote: NURLA.
_July, 1848._]
On the 8th of July, I marched to Nurla[21], about eight miles up the
valley of the Indus. After leaving Kalatze, the whole day's journey
was quite barren, the road usually lying on the top of an alluvial
platform. Just beyond Kalatze, a large stream had cut a deep ravine
through the platform, showing it to be composed of large incoherent
water-worn stones, mixed with gravel and clay. The mountains on both
sides were steep, rocky, and bare. The vegetation on these platforms
was scanty: _Boragineæ_ and _Chenopodiaceæ_ were the two prominent
orders; _Nepeta floccosa_, a little _Hyoscyamus_, _Güldenstädtia_, a
large and handsome _Corydalis_, a _Matthiola_, and several
_Astragali_, _Cruciferæ_, and _Artemisiæ_, were also prevalent. Of
grasses, _Stipa_ was the most common, but several sub-tropical forms
were observed, which were interesting and somewhat unexpected. A
species of _Cymbopogon_, and an _Andropogon_ allied to _A. Ischæmum_,
grew among rocks close to the river. In similar places I met with two
species of _Vincetoxicum_, one a twiner, and the other erect;
_Tribulus_, too, was common on the most barren spots. At Nurla, the
cultivated lands are very extensive: the crops and fruit-trees as at
Kalatze; some of the barley was nearly ripe. The common bean seemed a
good deal cultivated, usually intermixed with wheat; _Lathyrus
sativus_ was also a common crop[22].
Behind the village of Kalatze, rounded hills of moderate elevation
were capped with incoherent beds of sand and boulders of considerable
thickness, horizontally stratified; similar beds, sometimes indurated
into a soft sandstone rock, occurred at intervals throughout the day.
Boulders of granite were abundant in the alluvium and on the surface
of the platforms, derived, I believe, from the axis of the chain
separating the Indus from the Shayuk. These transported masses of
granite were not observed anywhere between lower Zanskar and the
Indus; it may therefore, I think, be inferred that the superficial
alluvium (which, where the two occur together, generally covers the
lacustrine clays) has been deposited since the present river system
was in full operation, and is not, as I at one time conjectured,
analogous to the drifts of Europe. The ancient rocks between Kalatze
and Nurla were alternations of friable slate with indurated
conglomerate and grey sandstone.
[Sidenote: SASPOLA.
_July, 1848._]
Between Nurla and Saspola, to which place (eleven miles) I marched on
the 9th, the valley of the Indus was narrower than before, as well as
more rocky. The rock was chiefly grey sandstone. The road frequently
ascended to some height in places where the banks of the river were
too rugged to permit a passage. On the 10th of June I proceeded to
Nimo, ten miles further. At Saspola the road leaves the banks of the
Indus, to ascend a barren valley, among hills of loose conglomerate.
At first, the banks of the little stream were green and turfy; but
after about a mile I entered a dry stony ravine, along the bed of
which the road gradually ascended. The rocks were clay-slate,
conglomerate, and sandstone, and all the hills were capped with modern
alluvial clay conglomerate. Granite boulders occurred abundantly, and
marks of the action of water were seen on the rocks far above the
reach of the present streams. At the summit, which must have been
nearly 1000 feet above the Indus, I emerged suddenly upon a wide and
open gravelly plain. To the right, a number of low hills concealed the
course of the Indus; to the left, the mountain range had receded to
some distance, and could be seen to be here and there tipped with
snow. The road lay for several miles over this barren plain, which was
entirely alluvial, descending afterwards very abruptly into a deep
flat-bottomed hollow, excavated out of the soft conglomerate by a
considerable stream. In this hollow, quite concealed till close at
hand, was the village of Bazgo, with a long narrow strip of
cultivation along the margin of its stream. Following the course of
this valley till near the Indus, I then ascended its left bank, and
emerged upon another extensive alluvial platform, high above the
river, but parallel to it. At the east end of this platform was the
village of Nimo, the termination of my day's journey.
[Sidenote: NIMO.
_July, 1848._]
From this place my journey of the 12th brought me to Le, about twelve
miles. About a mile above Nimo the Indus is joined by the Zanskar
river. The valley where the two rivers unite is very rocky and
precipitous, and bends a long way to the south. The road to Le does
not follow the river, but ascends among gravelly ravines behind the
village, and emerges on a wide open plain, which, as on the previous
march, is interposed between the northern range of mountains and the
present channel of the Indus. The height of this plain above the river
was at least 1000 feet; it was lowest in the centre, sloping up not
only towards the mountains to the north, but to a range of
round-topped hills of moderate elevation, which overhung the valley of
the Indus, sinking on their south face very abruptly down to the
river. The higher mountains were chiefly granite, with a few
interposed beds of slate dipping at a high angle. The granite
exhibited the usual tendency of that rock to decay in spheres, or
rather in irregular-shaped masses with rounded angles.
In proceeding along this plain, the road at first rose almost
imperceptibly, but after two miles I reached the highest part of it,
from which it sloped down towards the east. From this point the course
of the Indus in front of Le, and to the south-east for many miles, was
finely seen. The river runs through a wide valley, but the range of
mountains to the north sends down many rugged spurs, which, in the
shape of low rocky hills, advance close to the river. On the south or
left bank, on the contrary, a wide, open, gently-sloping plain extends
to a considerable distance. From the highest level of the plain a long
gradual descent brought me to the Indus, to which it was necessary to
descend in order to get round one of the spurs just referred to. It is
here a tranquil but somewhat rapid stream, divided into several
branches by gravelly islands, generally swampy, and covered with low
_Hippophaë_ scrub. The size of the river was very much less than it
had been below the junction of the river of Zanskar, the latter
appearing to contribute considerably more than half the amount of
water. At the point of the low spur lay the village of Pitak, on an
isolated hill, surrounded by extensive deposits of cream-coloured
lacustrine clay. From this village there is a gradual ascent of about
four miles to the town of Le, which is built on a low hill at the
upper corner of a wide open valley.
[Sidenote: PITAK.
_July, 1848._]
The bed of the Indus at Pitak, below Le, has an elevation of about
10,500 feet above the level of the sea, but the town is at least 1300
feet higher. Its sheltered situation, in a hollow surrounded by hills,
and facing the south, compensates to a certain extent for this
increase of elevation; still the crops are very much inferior to those
on the banks of the Indus. There are but few trees, the apricot being
the only fruit-tree cultivated, and it does not seem to thrive. Water
is plentiful in the valley, and is conveyed through the cultivated
lands in deeply-cut canals or trenches, faced with walls of stone.
Natural meadows of tall grasses, intermixed with luxuriant lucerne and
melilot, are common along the banks of the river, especially above the
town.
[Sidenote: LE.
_July, 1848._]
The vegetation in the vicinity of Le scarcely differed from that of
the Indus at Kalatze. The most abundant families of plants were
_Chenopodiaceæ_, _Labiatæ_, and _Artemisiæ_, which covered the barren
and stony tracts; the _Boragineæ_, so abundant throughout Tibet in
early spring, had already quite dried up and disappeared. In the
meadows tall species of _Thalictrum_, _Silene_, and _Heracleum_, were
coming into flower, and in swamps _Veronica Beccabunga_ and
_Anagallis_, _Limosella_, and a yellow _Pedicularis_, were the most
abundant plants.
At Le I had the pleasure of meeting Captain Strachey, who had spent
the winter there, and had returned shortly before my arrival, from an
exploring journey to the eastward. After a week's stay I set out for
Nubra on the 19th of July, crossing the lofty chain separating the two
rivers by the pass directly north of Le, which, during the summer
months, presents no difficulty, and is therefore preferred as being
the most direct. The pass is distinctly visible from the town of Le,
to which it appears very close, though the distance is at least ten or
twelve miles. I did not attempt to cross it the first day, but
encamped as far up on the southern face as I conveniently could, so as
to reach the top early in the morning. At starting, the road lay for
about three miles through an open valley, partly cultivated, and with
a good deal of swampy ground. Higher up, the valley contracted into a
barren ravine, with a narrow strip of green along the margin of the
stream. About half-way, the road left the bottom of the valley, and
for the remainder of the march I proceeded along the bare side of the
mountain, ascending very rapidly. There was a striking change in the
vegetation as the height increased. On the lower slopes _Cicer_ and
_Statice_ were abundant, with several _Astragali_; on the latter part
of the ascent many alpine plants were observed, belonging to the
genera _Corydalis_, _Elsholtzia_, _Potentilla_, and _Draba_. A very
small violet was extremely plentiful in the crevices of the rocks, and
among stones, after I had reached 15,000 feet. I encamped at about
15,700 feet, on a level piece of ground, a few hundred feet above the
bottom of the valley.
[Sidenote: PASS NORTH OF LE.
_July, 1848._]
On the 20th I crossed the pass, starting about sunrise. The morning
was intensely frosty, and the stones and vegetation near the water
were encrusted with ice. The path lay close to the stream, ascending
somewhat rapidly among the green turf which grew along its margin, in
which I found many little alpine plants, among which, a large-flowered
_Aster_ and a small poppy with still unexpanded flowers were the most
conspicuous. The last part of the ascent was extremely steep, among
immense angular granite boulders, with here and there a little snow in
the crevices. Here a most elegant sweet-scented species of _Primula_
was common, so firmly fixed in the frozen mud, that I could with
difficulty procure a specimen. Except in very small patches, there was
no snow till within two hundred yards of the top of the ascent, for
which distance it was continuous, but very soft, and evidently melting
rapidly. The crest of the pass was a narrow ridge of large spheres of
granite, seemingly quite detached from one another, but which had
probably been formed on the spot they now occupied by the peculiar
decay characteristic of that rock.
The continuation of the ridge on both sides was for some distance
very little more elevated than the pass itself, the height of which
was 17,700 feet. To the south, the view was very extensive, embracing
a great extent of snowy mountains, with numerous lofty peaks, as well
as a part of the Indus valley, and the town of Le, immediately below;
to the north it was much more limited, as hills close at hand
completely excluded all distant view, except directly in front, where
one snowy peak could be seen a long way off, evidently beyond the
Shayuk.
On the north side of the pass snow commenced at the very top, and
continued for at least 1200 feet of perpendicular height. The descent
for this distance was extremely steep, over a snow-bed, which appeared
to cover an incipient glacier. About 1200 feet below the top I came to
a small oval-shaped lake, completely frozen over; a little higher up I
had passed a small bare piece of rock projecting through the snow, and
perhaps thirty feet long, on which the beautiful blue-flowered _Nepeta
multibracteata_, Benth., had already put forth its flowers. Beyond the
frozen lake the descent became at once much more gentle, and was
partially free of snow. The path lay over a vast accumulation of
angular stones, which appeared to have fallen from the rocks above.
Many parts of the valley were swampy, evidently from recently melted
snow, and in such places the _Primula_, noticed on the ascent,
occurred in great abundance, its scapes rising to the height of six to
eight inches, and bearing large globes of deep rose-coloured flowers.
Among the loose stones _Nepeta multibracteata_ was common. About three
miles from the top I passed the end of an exceedingly well-marked
moraine, which must have been deposited by a glacier at a time when,
from increased cold, these masses of ice stretched down much further
than they do at present. The remainder of the descent was again more
abrupt, but very bare, stony, and uninteresting. A single tree of
_Juniperus excelsa_ grew in one of the ravines, and below 14,000 feet
a species of berberry, with very small leaves, was common on dry stony
ground. I encamped at the small village of Kardong, at 13,500 feet.
The cultivation round this village was on a level plain without any
terracing.
[Illustration: Metamorphic rocks. Alluvium. Stream. Alluvium.
Metamorphic rocks.]
[Sidenote: KARDONG.
_July, 1848._]
[Sidenote: ALLUVIAL PLATFORMS.
_July, 1848._]
On the 21st I proceeded to Karsar, a village on the bank of the Shayuk
river, distant about nine miles. A few hundred feet above the village
of Kardong the alluvial boulder clay had begun to occur in the valley,
and around the village, which occupied the end of a lateral ravine, it
was already very thick. From Kardong to the Shayuk this alluvium
continued in great quantity, forming elevated platforms, sloping very
gently from the mountains, and faced by steep, often quite
perpendicular cliffs. Where lateral ravines joined the main valley
the alluvium was deeply excavated by the little streams which
traversed them, and the road descended abruptly by steep and curiously
winding paths down the cliffs of clay, and among piles of boulders, to
re-ascend to the platform beyond the stream. Such a ravine, of great
depth, occurred just below Kardong. After crossing it the road lay
over the surface of the clay platform, which was nearly level, and
consequently at an increasing height above the bottom of the Kardong
valley, which rapidly diminished in elevation. This platform was
extremely barren, and quite devoid of water. Here and there isolated
rocky masses rose up through the alluvium. The rock was peculiar,
being very hard, and, as it were, porphyritic, with a black,
basaltic-looking matrix, quite homogeneous, in which numerous white
specks were diffused. In hand specimens and boulders, and even on a
near view of the hills, this rock appeared quite an igneous rock, but
when an extensive section was exposed, it could be seen to be
distinctly stratified.
[Sidenote: KARSAR.
_July, 1848._]
When within a short distance of the Shayuk valley, though still high
above it, the road turned to the left, and, leaving the alluvial
platform, proceeded among rugged rocky hills, in a direction parallel
to that river, at the same time descending somewhat rapidly to a
platform of modern lacustrine clay and conglomerate, which filled up
the whole of a deep recess in the mountains facing the Shayuk, to a
thickness of at least 1000 feet. The village of Karsar, at which I
encamped, lies in a deep ravine, excavated out of the clay formation
by a considerable stream, on both sides of which, for nearly a mile,
there is a belt of cultivation, very narrow where the stream issues
from the mountains, but gradually widening as it descends. Owing to
the sheltered situation, from the great height of the cliffs of clay
on both sides, the crops were exceedingly luxuriant, and fruit-trees
were plentiful, principally apples and apricots. Some very fine
walnut-trees also occurred.
From the same cause the herbaceous vegetation was particularly rich,
and I met with many species which were new to me. The banks of the
stream, from the point where it issued from among the mountains, were
everywhere bordered by large bushes of _Myricaria elegans_, now
adorned with masses of sweet-scented rose-coloured flowers. In the
lower part of the village-lands there were shady plantations of poplar
and willow, which seemed to be occasionally irrigated, in order that
they might produce a rich natural pasture. In these groves _Euphrasia
officinalis_, species of _Gentiana_, _Ranunculus_, _Potentilla_, and
_Carum_ grew most luxuriantly; a tall but very small-flowered
_Pedicularis_ was also very common. No less than three species of
_Orchideæ_ occurred, a family which more than any other dislikes
dryness: these were _Orchis latifolia_, an _Epipactis_, and an
_Herminium_. Many of the weeds of the cultivated fields were also new
and interesting: a _Hypecoum_, an _Elsholtzia_, and some species of
_Polygonum_, were those I particularly noted.
[Sidenote: LACUSTRINE DEPOSIT.
_July, 1848._]
The lacustrine formation of Karsar consists mostly of very pure white
clay, horizontally stratified; but at the lower end of the ravine,
where it is about to expand into the open plain of the Shayuk, a
tolerably solid but still very friable sandstone, the strata of which
were also quite horizontal, occurred under the clay. I saw no
fossils, but when the clay is examined with care, they will probably
be occasionally detected. At all events, as this clay formation is at
least a thousand feet thick, if we take into consideration the open
nature of the whole valley of Nubra, there can be no doubt that it
must have been deposited from the same waters with the very similar
clay which I found at Tertse, in lower Nubra, in October, 1847, and
that it is therefore lacustrine. If this be admitted, it seems
impossible to escape from the conclusion, that the deposits in the
Kardong valley, (of which I have given an imaginary section in page
398,) though different in appearance, belong to the same lake. Now,
these attain an elevation of 13,500 feet and upwards, as they commence
above Kardong: the level of the surface of the Nubra lake can
therefore hardly have been less than 14,000 feet; so that it must have
extended up the Tanktse valley, almost as far as the low pass by which
that district is separated from the Pangong lake.
[Sidenote: DISKIT.
_July, 1848._]
From Karsar, I marched on the 25th of July, down the valley of the
Shayuk, to Diskit. The earlier part of the road, after ascending
abruptly out of the Karsar ravine, lay over the clay platform, which
was perfectly flat; but after about four miles, it descended nearly to
the level of the river, whose wide gravelly plain now extended on the
south side to the very foot of the mountains, the lacustrine beds
having been entirely removed. The plain was traversed by several small
streamlets, apparently derived in a great measure from the river, the
water of which seemed to sink among the gravel and sand of its bed,
and to spring up again at a distance from the main channel. One of
these streams ran at the extreme edge of the plain, close under the
cliffs, which here rose almost precipitously to a great height. Its
banks were very saline, and in the neighbourhood of Diskit a great
part of the plain was encrusted with soda.
The cultivated lands of the village, which is of considerable size,
lie on a sloping bank, rising rather steeply out of the plain. Many
apricot-trees grow among the houses, some of which were large enough
to afford a shade under which a tent could be pitched. The vegetation
was in general the same as at Karsar, but a white-flowered _Allium_
was new, as well as a species of _Chloris_, which was abundant in the
pastures. A very small _Cyperus_, which grew in the water-courses,
appeared to be a dwarf state of a species common in the plains of
India, and, with the _Chloris_, which is a tropical grass, was
interesting as an indication of the considerable heat of the summer
climate in the valley of the Shayuk, notwithstanding its great
elevation.
[Sidenote: PASSAGE OF SHAYUK RIVER.
_July, 1848._]
The village of Diskit is almost exactly opposite the place where the
Nubra river joins the Shayuk from the northward. In October, 1847, I
had crossed the Shayuk five or six miles above Karsar, and descended
along its right bank, but during the hot months this route is not
practicable, as there are no bridges, and the river is too deep to be
forded anywhere except just at its junction with that of Nubra, where
the wide gravelly plain of the Shayuk expands to its greatest
diameter, and the river is divided into numerous branches.
The greater part of the 26th of July was occupied by the passage of
the Shayuk, which was both tedious and difficult, the river being now
nearly at its greatest height. The first branch was nearly two miles
from Diskit, the intervening gravelly plain being partly swampy, with
a few bushes of _Hippophaë_, _Tamarix_, and _Myricaria_. There were
four large branches to be crossed, besides several of smaller size.
Nearly a mile of sand separated the last large branch from the
remainder, and the ford was a most intricate one, each branch being
crossed obliquely and at a different point from the adjacent ones. The
united breadth of all the streams could not, I think, have been less
than half a mile. The velocity of the water was so great, that though
the depth nowhere, I think, exceeded three and a half feet, and was
more usually about two and a half, people on foot appeared to have the
utmost difficulty in retaining their footing, and the loaded men had
to be supported by one or two without loads on each side. In the more
difficult parts, two men placed themselves on each side of my horse's
head, to guide him in the proper road, and two more at each stirrup to
give him support in case of need. When in the centre of the current,
where, from the necessity of keeping my eye on the horse's motions, I
had to look at the water, I found it impossible to avoid a feeling of
giddiness, and an impression that horse and rider were being hurried
upwards with extreme velocity in a direction contrary to the stream.
These very rapid portions, however, were never more than ten or twenty
yards broad; the remainder was more moderate and shallower.
[Sidenote: LYAKJUNG.
_July, 1848._]
After safely effecting the passage with all my party and baggage, I
proceeded about a mile over loose sand, and encamped at the village of
Lyakjung, situated at the border of the low plain of the river, at the
point of union of the two valleys. The Shayuk valley is visible from
this place as far as the large village of Hundar, about ten miles, the
river running throughout that distance through a wide gravelly plain,
but with high rocky mountains on both sides.
[Sidenote: VALLEY OF NUBRA.
_July, 1848._]
From the 27th of July till the 9th of August, I remained in the valley
of Nubra, the necessary preparations for my further journey, which was
to be entirely through an uninhabited country, requiring considerable
time. During this interval, I moved from place to place in the valley,
which is well inhabited and rather pretty. The river is in the hot
months very large and rapid, and has its origin, no doubt, in the
great snowy mountains to the north. I crossed it twice a little above
the town of Chirasa, and found its current quite as strong as that of
the Shayuk, and in many places as deep, but its breadth was
considerably less. In one of the channels, a lad, carrying a light
bundle, was carried away by the stream, and rolled over repeatedly in
the water, after being separated from his load, before he was picked
up by a number of men who hastened to his assistance. The difficulty
of crossing was much increased by numerous quicksands, which made it
necessary to proceed by a tortuous path, and which were evidently very
liable to shift, as the guides proceeded very cautiously, and more
than once abandoned a ford on finding the footing insecure.
The general appearance of the valley of Nubra is very agreeable, and
superior to that of any other part of Tibet at the same elevation. The
villages are well wooded, with orchards of apricot-trees, and with
poplars and willows, which are either planted in rows, or scattered
irregularly in meadows on the skirts of the cultivated lands: the
willows, when not pollarded, attain a large size, and afford an ample
shade. The fields are carefully enclosed with walls, or hedges of
_Hippophaë_, or with a fence of the dead branches of that plant. Green
and shady lanes, bordered by high _Hippophaë_ hedges, full of
_Clematis_ and rose-bushes, lead through the village lands. The crops
are chiefly wheat and barley, with a few fields of millet (_Panicum
miliaceum_), buckwheat, and rape. There is also much pasture,
particularly along the little streams, and in fields near the river,
which are often swampy.
The beauty of the cultivated tracts is much enhanced by the utter
sterility of the drier parts of the plain, which are either gravelly
or stony, and utterly barren, except that occasionally from some
peculiarity of soil or position there is a considerable extent of
clayey soil not low enough to be swampy, but not remote from water,
covered with short turf much encrusted with soda. These grassy plains
are more common in the upper part of the district, and are perhaps
connected with springs containing carbonate of soda in solution[23].
[Sidenote: VEGETATION OF NUBRA.
_August, 1848._]
Except from the more advanced period of the season, the flora of
Nubra differed but little from that of Le. Species of _Artemisia_,
_Labiatæ_, and _Chenopodiaceæ_, were now in full flower on the more
desert and stony tracts, in which a shrubby _Lycium_ (which is not
found on the Indus) was also common. _Chenopodiaceæ_ had become
extremely plentiful, and belonged to many different genera: shrubby
species of _Eurotia_ and _Caroxylon_ were common, but the greater
number were herbaceous, and belonged to the genera _Chenopodium_,
_Ambrina_, _Salsola_, _Echinopsilon_, and Corispermum. A species of
thistle grew on barren soil, particularly where the ground was saline;
on the salt soil, _Glaux_, a little _Crucifera_, and a _Polygonum_
were the most abundant plants. _Mulgedium Tataricum_, a _Galium_ (very
like _G. Aparine_), and a scandent species of _Vincetoxicum_, were
frequent in hedges; and species of _Mentha_, _Erodium_, _Epilobium_,
_Lepidium_, and _Matthiola_, all common plants at Le, being now in
full flower, attracted notice more than at an earlier period. A very
tall species of grass (_Melica?_) in large and elegant tufts, often
six feet high, was one of the most ornamental plants in the valley;
while as uncommon forms I may enumerate a prickly _Sophora_,
_Orobanche_, _Parietaria_, and in ponds a little _Utricularia_,
closely resembling a European species.
A small-leaved elm, which is common near Tagar, is apparently
wild,--at least it is not acknowledged by the inhabitants as a
cultivated tree. I have not observed this tree elsewhere in Tibet, but
Mr. Vigne mentions that he met with an elm in the mountains between
Shigar and Khapalu. It appears to be the same with a species common in
the forests of the lower valleys of Kashmir.
[Sidenote: HOT SPRINGS.
_August, 1848._]
About a mile from the large village of Panamik are the hot springs
formerly visited by Moorcroft. They are two in number, and spring from
the rocky mountain-side, about a hundred yards from the edge of the
plain. The temperature of the water in the spring which I tried was
170·5°. It was faintly sulphurous both in taste and smell, but not
perceptibly saline, and deposited a thick calcareous incrustation on
everything within its reach.
To the south of Panamik the rocks of Nubra are chiefly black slate,
but transported blocks of granite are everywhere common, and at that
village the latter rock descends to the level of the river, and
continues to form the whole mass of the mountains on the left side of
the valley as far as I continued along it. On the right side there
were indications of stratification on the steep sides of the
mountains, and, from the colour, the rock there appeared to be partly
granite and partly metamorphic slate.
FOOTNOTES:
[20] Travels, vol. ii. p. 11.
[21] Written, I believe, _Snurla_, as Le is written _Sle_, and Nimo,
_Snimo_, the initial letter being in all three mute. Many similar
instances might be given, silent initial letters occurring very
commonly in the written language of Tibet. It admits of much doubt
whether the best mode of spelling be according to the pronunciation,
or as the words are written: I have preferred the former, as less
likely to mislead.
[22] I do not know whether or not to attribute to this plant a
remarkable disease which, on my return down the Indus in September, I
found in the village of Saspola. At least thirty people in that
village, of all ages from a full-grown man to an infant, and of both
sexes indifferently, had been attacked with paralysis within the last
two years. The palsy was confined to the lower extremities, and
differed much in degree. The sufferers were in other respects the most
healthy and good-looking portion of the inhabitants. The people
themselves were quite at a loss to assign a cause for this
extraordinary affection, and, except in some article of diet, I was
unable to think of any.
[23] This view has been suggested to me by Dr. R. D. Thomson, who has
paid much attention to the chemical contents of springs, and is at
present engaged in examining the saline matters which I brought with
me from Tibet.