CHAPTER X.

TO THE SHAYAK.

27th July. There was considerable delay occasioned by the coolies coming late, and the jemadar not appearing. Neither did the expected guide from Bella Shah appear; and the tattoo provided for me was such a feeble animal that I scorned to bestride him. Having decided to leave my own nags to be fresh for my return, I had been led to expect better things by the jemadar, he having declared that the thanadar would furnish me with horses like my own.

Without waiting for the jemadar, I gave the word to be off, not disliking being compelled to resort to my usual means of locomotion, my legs; and hardly had we left the enclosure than we were entangled in fields, amid the partitions of which the path was lost. An unwilling guide, in the person of a villager whom we appropriated 'sans ceremonie,' conducted us out of the fields to a plain much-worn track, when, concluding that our way was straight before us, I permitted him to abscond. On we trudged, and had made some way, when shouts behind us attracted our notice, and, stopping, we saw a man pursuing. He was one I have omitted to mention as having been provided by the jemadar as agreed, being competent to shew the shooting grounds in the Lobrah district. He fully corroborated the jemadar's statement of the quantities of game to be there met with, ibex, shâpu, and nâpu; and he seemed delighted at the idea of taking service, enforcing upon the shikarries the necessity of taking lots of powder, lead, and the moulds. This looked well. He now overtook us, and told us we were in the wrong path, and must cross a rough hill to get to the right one.

This done, we pursued our way, and had again to look back to ascertain why we were assailed behind by shouts. It was my sepoy with a horse, the one sent by the thanadar on the first day. Putting Mooktoo up, I walked on. We stopped to examine some of the singular altar-like buildings so numerous in this country, around the urnlike top of which were piled a number of the horns of the wild sheep--why, is beyond me; unless they were offerings of successful hunters. Here we were again overtaken by a queer-looking individual who announced himself as Abdool, the man engaged as guide by Bella Shah. He looks a likely chap; quietly sent the other man, whose name is Tar-gness, to the rear, and took upon himself the duties of guide.

A gradual, but rough and fatiguing, ascent brought us to our halting place on the mountain-side, whence we were to climb the summit on the morrow. It is a melancholy spot--only a few stones heaped on one another, as a shelter for travellers or shepherds--distinguishing it from the surrounding waste of rocks and stones. But there is a beautiful clear stream at hand.

I was just at the end of my breakfast, when a stir took place, and, looking about, a score or so of laden horses appeared descending from a slope close by, headed by their owner, a Yarkand merchant, whom we hastened to greet, and to overwhelm with questions. He was a jolly, good-humoured old man, of a ruddy countenance, and readily entered at large into conversation, detailing his journey, the obstacles met with, &c. First of all, the yâk were met with in great herds two or three days' journey beyond the Karakorum. Of this there was no doubt. But there was a band of freebooters, some two hundred strong, somewhere on the Yarkand road, lying in wait for merchants. He had evaded them; but he did not know what had befallen other merchants who were to leave Yarkand about the same time: of them he had heard nothing. He gave us most valuable information of the road to follow, the places to halt at, and certain spots where the yâk would certainly be found; in describing which he mentioned one at the ziarat, or shrine, erected where the marble and alabaster were quarried, with which Shah Jehan, and other of the Mogul emperors, constructed the magnificent edifices, palatial and sepulchral, which still adorn Delhi and Agra, to the astonishment and admiration of all. This was news to me, as I had fancied that the place whence this material had been procured was quite unknown. It is an interesting spot to visit, let alone the yâk there frequenting. The old gentleman told me he had some gold coins bearing the stamp, and date corresponding, of Alexander the Great. These he had got at great expense, and I understood him expressly for some saheb in the Punjab where he is going.

I bought some felt nambas of him to serve as blankets for my servants and shikarries, and for myself, paying 1. 8 rupees Cos. each, and two rupees for a red one of superior fabrique, but damaged. I endeavoured to deal with him for a couple of his ill-conditioned, raw-backed, galled tattoos, intending to send them to Leh to pick up and gain condition by my return, and take on my own with me. The unconscionable old chap, on my pointing out two, asked two hundred rupees for one, and three hundred for the other. I said, a deal was out of the question. After a time I offered him one hundred rupees for the two, through the shikarries. No; he wouldn't think of it. Well, his team went on, he having to remain till my servants came, to be paid for the nambas. Thinking how pleasant it would be to have my own hard-conditioned nags with me--perchance, to pursue thereon some wounded yâks--I called Subhan, and directed him to offer one hundred and fifty rupees for the two; but the obstinate old man would not accept the offer. This was an outside price for the animals, if in condition for work; so I made no further attempt to persuade the reluctant proprietor to part with his quads. He had long to wait for his rupees: but on the arrival of my servants, having paid him, I offered him a rupee, 'backsheesh,' he having given me some dried fruit. At this he demurred, and actually needed remonstrance to make him accept. Then, with many polite salaams, he went on his way.

My khansamah and the shikarries had blundered sadly about arrangements; for, although they knew that there was no village, no supplies or wood here, they had not taken care to ascertain that due provision had been made for our necessities, trusting all to the jemadar without enquiring at starting. Messengers had been despatched, but night approached without their returning; and Abdoolah was warming me some food by the scanty fire some horse-dung, chips, and bits of matting afforded, when a portion of wood arrived, and in the course of an hour the other things. The night was very cold, a violent hailstorm having burst upon us in the afternoon.

28th July. We got off by 5 A.M., Phuttoo on the horse, and Mooktoo, who complained of severe headache, on a tattoo ridden yesterday by Abdoolah. The ascent of the mountain was most arduous, the natural difficulties being much increased by the difficulty of respiration. All suffered much from this. The mountain being extremely steep and rugged, the path necessarily running into innumerable zigzags to render the ascent at all practicable was cumbered with sharp stones, as was the entire mountain-side. Indeed, this is the characteristic of the range. From summit to base these mountains are thickly covered with fragments crumbled from their massive bodies, which by the action of the weather, intense frosts, &c. are splintered up and strewn with the débris, as though the stone breakers had been busily at work all over the surface, not leaving a square yard vacant. Many a time had I to pause for breath ere the summit was reached; and we had some snow hard-frozen to cross, covering the whole northern face of the mountain, at the base of which was a small lake, formed by the melted snow filling a basin. The descent was more abrupt than the ascent, but except that the snow was hard and slippery, it was much easier to accomplish. Heavy rain set in below, which was hail and sleet above. I was glad to be out of that.

We met a train of laden yâks, the property of my merchant friend of yesterday, whose name, by the way, is Nassir Khan. A jolly, ruddy, round-faced young man, quite plebeian-English in appearance, was in charge of them; and, in reply to queries from Abdool and myself, he assured us that the yâk and other game abounded where Nassir Khan had told us. Joyfully commenting on the coincidence of testimony we jogged on, and halted at a stone shed, where by a fire smoking was a Yarkandi, left behind to tend two of Nassir Khan's disabled horses. This man also gave us, and others who followed, similar glowing accounts of the quantities of yâk met with near the Karakorum, himself getting quite excited by the recollection of them.

The sun now shone out, and finding our destination, Karbong, still some miles off, I determined to breakfast; after which I mounted the nag, preceded by Abdool and Phuttoo, leaving poor Subhan, just come up and quite knocked up, to repose, and Kamal to attend him. I rode slowly on, the road execrable, and passed herds of yâk and flocks of sheep. The sun came out, and seemed to take vengeance on us for having hitherto escaped him; the rays, reflected from the white sandy soil and stones, not only roasted, but blinded one. We passed a horrid idol, the head of some deity, rudely moulded in clay, of hideous features painted red, occupying a niche in one of those altar-buildings, the tops of which were piled with wild sheeps-horns; and the bushy tails of the yâk were waving thereon, suspended from poles. Some fresh flowers were deposited in the niche before this ugly demon--a recent devotional offering.

At last we reached Karbong, a few scattered stone houses in irrigated fields in a valley of stones, or rather on the slopes of the mountain, the valley lying apparently further on, where huge mountains, rounded and abrupt, not in a range, but individual masses, presented their curved outlines rapidly inclining downwards to depths shut out from view. I had hoped for a somewhat level country, but as yet it is, if possible, more mountainous, and of huger masses than ever.

On arrival I took especial care of my horse, getting him lots of grain and grass of which he stood much in need. I could find no shelter from the sun, but a namba spread on sticks, which was better than nothing. Subhan came in after some time, better after his repose: he could give no intelligence of Mooktoo and the others. My three servants next came, all right, Abdoolah telling me with a grin, that he had left Mooktoo and the Cashmere coolies, five of them, on the top of the mountain, blubbering. This afforded him much amusement. These Cashmiries are certainly wretched cowardly creatures--no energy about them, once in difficulties.

All came in towards evening, when Abdoolah quizzed them unmercifully. Mooktoo complaining much, I determined to physic him, and gave him three Peake's pills at night. Abdoolah, the hard-hearted, scouts the idea of fever, asserting his ailment to be the result of eight days' idleness and good living; and this is my opinion too. To-morrow being Sunday offers an acceptable day of rest to all parties.

I sent off a messenger with an order written by the village gyalpo, at the dictation of Phuttoo, assisted by Abdool, the guide, to the thanadar's son, directing him to provide everything requisite in tattoos, food, &c., for a month's excursion to the Karakorum. He is at present two stages off, at Diskit. I desired the stock to be gathered at Chanloong, five stages off, and the last village on our route. Here I paid off and dismissed the Leh coolies who tendered their salaam, apparently thankful for their payment and release.

I have now the satisfaction of having accomplished one of the greatest difficulties in my way. Abdool says there is another awkward mountain to cross at Sassar, but that the Karakorum pass is not difficult, though long and tedious. We ought to reach the pass in twelve days now: it generally occupies fifteen with laden animals to or from Leh.

29th July. Sunday. I allowed the day to open fully ere I turned out, after having enjoyed a good night's rest. The mountains are truly grand and majestic, as viewed from this spot; and during the changing effects of a humid atmosphere they presented some magnificent pictures. Again I longed to be able truly to depict them.

The three Peake's pills having had no effect on Mooktoo, I gave him two more; nor did this additional motive power produce any result, yet he says he feels much better. A messenger passed through, bearing instructions from the thanadar to his son to take care that my wishes were attended to, and no trouble given me--very civil, indeed, of the old gentleman.

I have nothing particular to note of the day, but may remark how soon a man left to himself, without the aids and influences of Christian ministry and communion, becomes listless and indifferent in religious observances, and neglects the appointed means for the strengthening and refreshing of his soul. We need the stimulus of the example and offices of others, and especially those of the Church, to keep us up to the standard of vital Christianity.

30th July. I arose at earliest dawn, wishing, if possible, to reach the next camp ere the sun should attain his full power. The path led down a narrow valley, threading some ravines, and penetrating some remarkable defiles, then passing over table lands, until we stood looking down upon the river Shayak and its valley, which lies at right angles to that down which we had come, the distance some six miles. The Shayak's course here I judge to be N.W. A small hamlet with its green crops greeted our sight from the eastern side; all else was bare rock and barren slopes. I had hoped for better things.

We turned to the left, following the river's course, but high up on the rocky mountain-side overhanging it, and, plunging down a deep gorge, came upon Kalsar, our destination, placed as usual by a stream, and looking cool and inviting with its fruit trees, and green crops, and beautiful clear water. We were guided to a nice bit of ground in a small orchard shaded by peach or apricot trees, very large, and one fine walnut tree. I enjoyed the comfort of the foliage after the three days without a tree, and sat down to breakfast enjoying the 'dolce far niente' thoroughly after my exercise. We were three hours and a half on the road without a halt; so I suppose, allowing for the ups and downs which were continual, we must have come about ten miles.

31st July. The morning being cloudy, and my tent under the shade of the walnut tree, I did not notice the first blush of dawn. We got off at a quarter to five. A difficult climb immediately awaited me, the ascent abrupt and the path deep in sand. Nevertheless I got on famously, finding myself, both to-day and yesterday, in excellent working order, and in good wind. I put Mooktoo, still ailing, on the horse. After an hour's travelling over a plateau intersected with deep ravines we descended to the bed of the Shayak, along which the path now led in a direction due west. A level waste of sand had now to be crossed, its width occupying the valley or river-bed, some three-quarters of a mile in width here; its length interminable as the river, perhaps, which here was a rapid turbid stream of forty or fifty yards in width, depth unknown. On the other side was a village in a small spot of cultivation recovered from the surrounding waste. There was a decided improvement in the scenery, the mountains falling back as the valley extended, giving good distances. Had the valley, or river-bed, been full of water, when it would have had the appearance of an extensive lake, the scene would have been magnificent. But the flat waste of sand destroyed it.

We had to quit the sand, and ascend a steep, rugged spur of the mountain, immediately under the foot of which the river rushed, making a bend S.W. Then down again we went, and had to toil over a good three miles of sand and shingle, our halting place always in view, but seeming never attainable. We crossed a beautiful clear stream, a bit more shingle, and then up a slope to the village of Diskit, a straggling place on a stony plateau looking down on the valley, here some mile and a half wide. Opposite is a valley partly revealed, down which, from the northward, flows another stream, tributary to the Shayak. Up that stream our route lies.

The gopal came to pay his respects, bringing some fruit--very small apricots, about the size of a marble and insipid. I learned to my sorrow that the river was impassable at present, and had been so the last three days. The sun was very hot, and but little shade was afforded by the ragged peach trees. The thanadar's son came to offer his salaam, also bringing fruit--apricots, peaches, and nectarines, all very small and unripe, also some cherries of the colour of greengage. He assured me that the river was impracticable, but might possibly be passable in three or four days. He made difficulties at first about horses; but on Abdoolah speaking somewhat sharply and authoritatively, quoting the thanadar's assurances, the young man gradually softened his objections, and after a time promised that everything should be ready for me, but pointed out that the state of the river was unfavourable, as all communication with the villages on the other side was cut off. He proposed that I should take shelter in a house which, however, when inspected by Buddoo, was reported too dirty and offensive for my occupation: so I turned into a small paddock instead, finding tolerable shelter under a large peach-tree, the trunk of which, I should say, was three feet in diameter. I could not remain in my tent, the heat was so great; so I sat under the tree, where it was more endurable.

It had been agreed that I should inspect the river to-morrow morning with the thanadar's son who promised to have four or five horses ready this evening: but nothing further than reports of their being on the way eventuated, and from this and other significant indications I am of opinion that, under all the superficial demonstrations of anxiety to assist me on my way, runs a strong reflux of concealed opposition. But, if so, I think I can either turn it aside, or surmount it. This delay is vexatious, as I have not a day to spare. I must try and recover the day lost by a double march or two, which will be easy enough as I purpose mounting all my attendants.

It was a beautiful sunset; such as I have not seen for a long time, having been for the most part so closely shut in by mountains as to have had no view whatever of the declining sun; and, moreover, were there distances, there has been usually too little vapour for effect. To-night good distances and a cloudy sky lent their aid to the mountainous landscape. The huge rugged mountains, softened in the subdued evening light, suffused with mellow glowing tints, were certainly arrayed to the best advantage--their massive proportions and gaunt nakedness toned down into pleasing harmonies of form and colour. Long I sat gazing, admiring, and musing--long after all beauty of external landscape had vanished, but enjoying mental visions of charms surpassing even the reality, now faded into the past--when Buddoo broke in upon my reveries with the lantern, and in obedience to the mandate I was soon ensconced in my canvas nutshell, in which confined space I was soon made very sensible of the true littleness of myself and my sphere.

1st August. A cloudy morning--which was welcomed as conveying an increased chance of an early abatement of the floods: because, the sun's powers being intercepted and diminished, the snows on the distant lofty mountains, on the solvency of which the state of the river depends, would be subject to a much reduced action of that consuming orb.

Some wretched tats were sent by the than's son, for which I abused the gopal who brought them; and perceiving it to be necessary to assume a more commanding tone, when the above-mentioned official sent his salaam by a sepoy, I returned him a sharp rebuke which operated favourably, as the sepoy soon returned with explanations and assurances of every effort being made to comply with my desires; that active trustworthy men had been sent to ascertain the state of the river, and orders for horses had been despatched in all directions. Notwithstanding, I thought it advisable to adopt precautionary measures to ensure a true report of the river's condition, so sent off the shikarries on the tattoos to examine it thoroughly up and down; who after some hours absence returned, and stated confidently that the water was going down fast, and that the river would be easily forded to-morrow. They had crossed many mullahs into which it was divided, and had gone through much hard work. They were proud of their performances, exhibiting their wet clothes, and helping each other to exaggerate their aquatic feats. Much pleased with the information, I gave orders for the move on the morrow at 10 A.M., considering that the water would be at its lowest about 11.

The thanadar junior came to pay his respects, and received the news of the river being passable without placing much reliance on it, cautioning us to avoid risking the lives of any of the people. I had a long talk with him. He appeared reconciled to the necessity of forwarding my plans, and promised every assistance. He had with him a brown spaniel, a good looking dog, which was given him, he said, by Colonel Markham, whose promising career was so suddenly cut short, when to human apprehension he appeared to be just at the attainment of a soldier's highest ambition, having been called for from India, it is supposed, to succeed to the command of our army before Sabastopol. He travelled through this country from Kulu through Leh some seven years ago--it must have been just before that summons to the Crimea--and then made this present. I looked with much interest upon this relic of a man whose fate was so remarkable.

Numerous coolies are in attendance, and all things arranged for the morrow's enterprise.

2nd August. Notwithstanding my repeated directions fully explained that we should not start early, the whole camp was astir earlier than usual, everything packed, tats saddled and bridled, coolies ready, and all waiting in expectation of the word, 'March.' This was at 6 A.M. I sat reading, and took no notice for some time, but did at last call Abdoolah, and remind him of the hour fixed for departure, and the reasons, as before given. Then the coolies were dismissed for a time. Now ensued a loud and angry quarrel between Phuttoo and Mooktoo, in the heat of which the former ass threatened the other with bringing his influence with the Maharajah to bear, and having him put in prison; upon which Mooktoo chaffed him with great effect. Phuttoo's conceit is outrageous.

I started between eight and nine, and found the space to traverse to the river much greater than I had imagined--quite three miles, perhaps four--and for the most part over shingle. The river was here divided into many streams, varying from fifty to a hundred yards in width, the current being strong. I had formed no idea of the volume of water from the glimpse of the river I had gained higher up. All the coolies stripped. Four or five men with poles preceded us, sounding; then I followed, and then came the shikarries mounted, with two men to each tattoo, and, far behind, my servants also mounted, and the coolies. An amusing scene took place with my little dog who had swam one or two minor streams, and followed me into a larger, where the current was very strong. A native tried to get hold of him, but the little fellow growled and bit at him viciously, swimming away bravely. The man then put his stick over him to draw him towards him: this he resisted, and was completely submerged. After several unsuccessful attempts the man succeeded in subduing and capturing the poor half-suffocated Sara who made a gallant fight; but the man, the stick, and the water combined were too much for him. The two former opponents bore marks of his vigorous resistance. He then quietly submitted to be conveyed by Subhan in front of him, following my every move with wistful eyes, and trembling violently with excitement.

My little nag had never encountered such a flood, and was quite bewildered by the glare and the rapid passage of the rushing waters; and I had much ado to guide him, ever giving way to the current. Abdool, the guide--not so on this occasion--preceded me, exhibiting in his nude state a sad specimen of legs, spindle-shanks, which were ill calculated for this arduous work: and the poor fellow was obliged to stop in mid-stream, supporting himself with difficulty by his stick. My horse, thus checked, turned aside and got into deep water, but I recovered and held him together: then, passing Abdool, he stuck to the shikarries who kept with their supporters all together. It was hard work, and certainly not without danger, as a stumble would have sent man and horse down the flood.

We thus fought our way on, crossing some score of these streams; in one of which, the widest--I should think two hundred yards across--I got into difficulties. By taking a lower course than the guide had done, I bungled into a sand-bed--quicksand--but my little nag exerted himself vigorously. The shikarries and others were vociferating loudly, 'kubber dar;' as if that was any good when we were in the thick of it. We struggled to firmer ground, and then got to a high bank of shingle with bushes on it. I had hoped that the main stream was crossed, but to my vexation found the great difficulty still to be overcome. A mighty flood swept by, which if we could get over, the passage was virtually accomplished. But was it fordable?

We now saw a party, horse and foot, on the other side making their way towards us. They, too, were brought up by the formidable volume of turbid water rushing between us. We were within hail of each other, but any words indistinguishable, and they were not to be induced by any sign to tempt their fate by showing us the way over. Things now came to a dead-lock. The river guide funking--and no wonder--moved here and there, up and down, making as though he were desperately in earnest, but ever recoiling from the main rush of the torrent. The servants and coolies now arrived all safe, after some few narrow escapes, as Abdoolah informed me--the Cashmiries, poor creatures! of whom there were five, having to be held up in the water, even when without loads: they lost their heads and legs immediately. What despicable poltroons they are! I am confident that my three Punjabies would 'leather' the three shikarries and five coolies combined; though of them Abdoolah is the only one of true 'grit.' He is a first-rate fellow, rough and ready, honest and plucky.

I followed the guide, going up the river, then descending on a bank which divided the main current, the water flowing over it in diminished strength. I was in great hopes we were about to triumph, as we now neared the opposite party; but on reaching the tail of the bank we found the two currents there united which, sweeping roaring through a deep channel of a hundred yards wide, again effectually opposed us. I could have pushed my horse through swimming; and perhaps the tats with the shikarries might have got safe through, though very doubtful: but the coolies and baggage, never. We, therefore, retraced our weary, watery way, and again took downwards below the aforesaid bank, and got into the main stream; but our bewildered guide again retreated.

He and others much amused me by their idea of sounding the depth--just taking stones, and pitching them in, with the notion of judging the depth by the splash and sound; and this in a roaring flood. I now looked upon the passage to day as hopeless, for we had now tried up and down a mile in length; but the goose of a guide still rushed wildly about, entering the water where he could have no real intention of going on: so I hailed Abdoolah from the depth in which I was floundering to beat a retreat, and with Subhan, my only adherent, turned backward--a most disagreeable alternative. I could not halt on that bank in the middle of the waters, though apparently safe, as I know the dangers and uncertainties of floods in mountain regions. And to fight our way back, over ground it had cost such exertions to win, was most disheartening.

Another party of horse and foot had joined mine on the bank, the young relative of Ahmet Shah and attendants, who I forgot to mention came to pay his respects to me, being at Diskit detained by the flood from proceeding on to the Lobrah district of which he is kardar. He is a most prepossessing young man in physiognomy and manner, and is going to his district principally on my account, to aid my arrangements. It was now half-past twelve; and the flood's might, augmented as usual at this time of day by the melted snow, cut off our retreat, so I was the more anxious for my party and effects to hasten their movements, and saw with vexation that there they stuck, like Asiatics, irresolute on the bank. But, seeing me resolutely fighting my way back, they at last got under weigh, and, I am glad to say, all got back safe and sound, men and baggage. The latter had narrow escapes; four coolies, becoming bothered and frightened, lost their way in the middle of the current of one of the biggest channels, and had to be rescued.

I settled down again in my former ground, giving directions for further examination of the river to-morrow; but am resolved not to attempt the passage again, till some one has actually crossed. The delay is very vexatious, but I must endeavour to make up for it by expedition. If I get my extension of leave, it will not matter in the least; but should that be unattainable, I shall have to ride, night and day, through Roopschoo and Kulu from Leh to save my distance. But I must get to these Karakorum mountains, whatever may betide.

We saw numerous trees and pieces of timber remnants of the bridge once spanning the river somewhere above this, which was carried away some months since by the floods. The thanadar junior is here, I believe, to reconstruct it; but that will be a most difficult job from the distance the timber will have to be brought. There is stone enough and to spare; but they are not architects good enough to make use of it. Yet their houses are fairly put together of stone and sun-brick, but the stone rough certainly. They could never form a durable arch, even if they contrived tetes-de-pont, and piers. And now to wait as patiently as may be the subsidence of the waters.

3rd August. Cloudy and showery. I was informed that men had been sent to get information of the state of the river, and in the evening they returned, stating there was little or no change since yesterday. There was rain in the evening, and a heavy storm apparently bursting over the mountains east of us.

4th August. Again a cloudy day. I sent off Phuttoo and Subhan with the Lobrah man, Tar-gness, to get news of the river, and employed the morning in writing. About 2 P.M. Subhan returned with the welcome news of the waters having subsided, and Phuttoo and Tar-gness having gone across to the other side to the village of Lanjoong, he hastening back to give me the information: he said also, that he had marked down some wild fowl in the watery meadows. I despatched my letters carefully sewn up in a bit of sheepskin, being assured that they would be safely delivered at Sirinuggur, under cover to the Baboo; then took gun and shot, and went with Subhan after the ducks which we soon found, and I knocked down one, and wounded another, but, unfortunately, we could not get either. We tried all about, and saw others, but could not get near them, so, after an hour and a half's fruitless endeavours, returned in heavy rain.

5th August. Sunday. A cloudy morning. I took a ramble before breakfast, and enjoyed it much, finding more beauty than I thought the place possessed, but could not select a site that satisfied me for a sketch. The scene is too extended for any view that would include the principal features. There is a picturesque lama monastery high above the village on the mountain; but the village itself is such a scattered, stony, tumble-down place as to defy a definite representation. The valley, looking either way, when lighted, is beautiful--the mountains of fine and varied forms. The effects this morning were very striking, as the fitful gleams of sunshine, struggling through the heavy clouds, threw their shifting light here and there. Looking west, a considerable expanse of rich cultivated plain occupies the valley; east, all is sand and shingle.

I scrambled up the rock over the village, and thence contemplated the scene below me, and did not omit to turn my grateful heart to the adorable Creator of the beauties around me. I wandered leisurely among the rough winding field-tracks; and so came back crossing the brawling rivulet which dashes in several rocky channels through the village. There was no news from over the river; but the gopal came to obtain his dismissal, being ready to start. With many injunctions and oft-repeated warnings from my various followers, by which the poor man, from his perplexed visage, must have been sorely bothered, he withdrew about 11 A.M.

Tar-gness made his appearance, reporting the road to be 'chungy,' that is, comfortable. Phuttoo remained, and I fancy, from observations I so understood, is exercising an assumed authority to a great extent, as I thought he would. I hope to get well across early to-morrow morning, and then proceed on some six miles to a village called Chamseen. It appears that the gopal of this village is the actual kardar of Lobrah, and Ahmet Shah's relative the government moonshi.

After dinner I was talking with the shikarries about the roads and which way we should return, and we discussed the possibility of a road, marked in my map as leading from Kopalu to the Yarkand road, being practicable. A native of Kopalu told us he believed there was a path, but that it was a very difficult one, quite impracticable for horses; but that it was only five or six days from the Karakorum to Kopalu. This would suit me capitally, if we could but get sure information, and make fitting arrangements. Then I should save fifteen days or so of a dismal and uninteresting road. Abdool, guide, sitting with the others, amused us all much by the vehemence with which he denounced the project of this route, declaring it to be terrible, both from its natural obstacles and supernatural; relating how two Bhooties were mysteriously killed by evil spirits who overwhelmed them with sand and stones. He further stated that 'shaitan' himself inhabited those regions, and assailed travellers, tooth and nail: and, while spinning this marvellous yarn, he illustrated it by action and gestures in a truly ludicrous manner. He has a very comical 'phiz' at all times; and when he takes off a large slouching felt hat he wears, leaving his queer comical-shaped cranium (closely shaved) bare, and in excitement indulges in involuntary grimace, he is a certain antidote to melancholy. He is a valuable adherent, always busy at something; even immediately after a long day's march he bustles about, and seems never to think of rest or refreshment. How different from the lazy Cashmiries!

Orders were issued for an early start, as I wish to make up for lost time, and, having crossed the river, to push on another stage.