CHAPTER XII.

Marked change in the Vegetation -- Bridge over Chenab -- Pargwal -- Description of Chenab valley -- Asdhari -- Chatargarh -- Road turns up valley of Butna -- Vegetation of Chenab valley -- Chishot -- Snow-beds -- Camp at 10,500 feet -- Ancient moraines -- Glacier -- Camp at 11,500 feet -- Rapid ascent along glacier -- Camp on moraine, at 14,600 feet -- Change of weather -- Ascent towards pass over glacier -- Cross Umasi La -- Descent -- Immense glacier -- Encamp in Tibet, at 13,800 feet -- Open valley of Zanskar -- Padum -- Great change of climate -- and in vegetation.

As a great part of my baggage and some of my servants did not reach camp till after dark, in the evening of the 12th of May, I halted on the 13th. I was encamped in a very narrow valley, on both sides of which lofty mountains rose very abruptly. The spurs which projected into this ravine were all of very peculiar configuration, their northern face being uniformly quite precipitous, while to the south, though still steep, they were green and sloping. I ascended on the southern slope of the spur, nearest to my tent, to a height of perhaps 1500 feet, without obtaining any extensive view of the valley of the Chenab, though I afterwards found that I was not more than two miles in a direct line from that river, but that the rocky mountains right and left, retaining their elevation till they were close to it, completely interrupted the view in every direction, except directly down the ravine, where a small portion of the snow-topped mountains beyond the river was visible.

[Sidenote: VEGETATION OF CHENAB VALLEY. _June, 1848._]

From the great elevation of the mountains which I had just crossed, I was prepared to find a marked change in the aspect of the vegetation, and I was not disappointed. The steep slopes were covered with a most luxuriant herbage, above two feet in height. A tall panicled _Rheum_ was very common, and numerous _Umbelliferæ_, _Silene inflata_, _Geranium_, and _Pteris aquilina_ were abundant. The most remarkable plant, however, from the extreme quantity in which it occurred, was an Asphodelaceous plant (_Eremurus_, Bieb.), the long scapes of which, from four to five feet in height, covered the hill-sides in countless myriads. These scapes were clothed, for nearly half their length, with a profusion of elegant white flowers, very slightly tinged with a pale yellowish green. I met, during the day, with most of the characteristic plants of the Kunawar flora; as instances, I may mention _Ephedra_, _Dictamnus_, _Rosa Webbiana_, _Dianthus_, and _Scutellaria orientalis_. The arboreous vegetation was much the same as on the other side of the pass. The right side of the ravine was well clothed with pines, of all the four ordinary species; the left side was usually bare, the northern faces of the spurs, which are generally wooded, being too precipitous, but in the hollows there were a few small clumps of trees, principally pine, walnut, and sycamore.

[Sidenote: VALLEY OF CHENAB _June, 1848._]

On the 14th of June I resumed my journey. The ravine in front was pronounced by my guides impracticable, and, as I afterwards saw, not without reason, as it gained the Chenab by running down an almost precipitous rocky slope between 1200 and 1500 feet in height. The road ascended the steep hills to the right rather abruptly, inclining to the north at the same time, till it gradually wound round the northern angle of the mountain range which formed the side of the ravine, when I found myself looking down on the valley of the Chenab from a height of about 3000 feet above the bed of the river. Unfortunately the day was foggy, with a light drizzling rain, or no doubt the view would have been magnificent. After rounding this rocky angle, the road ran parallel to the Chenab, but in a direction contrary to its course, and continued to rise very gently among shady forests, with scattered patches of snow. I conjectured at the time that an immediate descent was prevented by precipices below; and I afterwards ascertained from the opposite side of the river that such was the case. After about a mile and a half an extremely abrupt descent commenced, at first through dense forest, but afterwards among numerous fields and scattered houses, constituting a large village between 8000 and 9000 feet in elevation. Fruit-trees were abundant, principally walnut, of which there were many magnificent trees. The crops of wheat were not yet in ear.

[Sidenote: PARGWAL _June, 1848._]

Below the village lands the road entered a forest of deodar, and continued to descend rapidly. The deodars continued nearly to the river, a few hundred feet only at the lowest part being covered with high brushwood, principally consisting of _Fothergilla_. The Chenab (or Chandrabhaga, as it is always called in the mountains) is a noble-looking, rapid stream, running through a deep rocky channel. It is crossed at a considerable height above the water by a good and substantial wooden bridge, from which the course of the valley could be seen both up and down, to a considerable distance; and in both directions the river flows between lofty ranges of mountains, generally very rocky and precipitous, and often finely wooded. I did not determine the elevation of the bed of the river, but believe that it may safely be stated to be about 7000 feet. After crossing the Chenab the road ascended very abruptly to the village of Pargwal, in which I encamped, at an elevation of about 8500 feet. On the lower part of the ascent the forest was much more luxuriant than on the opposite side, and than it usually is on slopes facing the south: this was caused by the great depth and narrowness of the ravine through which the river flowed.

This day's march was rendered unpleasant by rain, which commenced about seven A.M., and continued to fall steadily till near sunset; the sky being completely overcast, and the day nearly calm. It was, however, very gentle, so that the quantity which fell during the day was beyond a doubt much less than would have fallen with constant rain for an equal length of time in the outer ranges of mountains, where no snowy range is interposed to stop the rain-clouds. It did not rain again while I continued in the valley; still one day's experience would of itself be quite insufficient to warrant any conclusion, were it not that the inhabitants describe the climate as tolerably dry. Their account is, that the rains continue lightly at intervals for about a month from the middle of June, after which they cease entirely. I have already pointed out that the climate of lower Kunawar is precisely the same in character, and these two valleys are equally similar in situation with respect to the mountain ranges.

[Sidenote: DESCRIPTION OF CHENAB VALLEY. _June, 1848._]

I had reached the Chenab at a point a good deal higher up than Chatargarh, from which place the most frequented road into the Zanskar valley turns to the north. There is, I believe, another pass a good deal more to the eastward, the road to which leaves the Chenab not far from the place where I crossed it; but I was informed that it is at all times extremely difficult, and that the season was still too early to attempt it. I therefore proceeded, on the 15th and 16th of June, down the right bank of the Chenab, through an exceedingly mountainous country, and generally at a great height above the stream, but with frequent descents to cross lateral torrents. The mountains to the north were generally crested with snow, and dipped very abruptly to the river. The north-west face of each ridge was invariably precipitous, so that all the descents along the road were abrupt, rocky, and difficult. Many villages were met with in the valley, and much cultivation usually high up on the sides of the mountains. Poplars (_P. nigra_ and _alba_) and apricots were commonly planted, but the favourite fruit-tree seemed to be the walnut. I did not see any vines cultivated. On both days the scenery was extremely fine, varying with every turn of the valley; at times the view from the top of the scarped precipices, which were frequent, was of the grandest possible description. The south side of the valley, where not absolutely precipitous, was covered with forest, most frequently of pine; and on the north side, on which the road lay, though the upper parts were often bare and grassy, or only covered with brushwood, yet the banks of the river were usually well wooded, and all the ravines, which were deep and shady, were filled with a dense forest of deodar, horse-chesnut, hazel, sycamore, birch, and _Fothergilla_, with many other trees. _Pinus Gerardiana_, which may be looked upon as more characteristic of a moderately dry climate than any other tree, inasmuch as it will not flourish where the rains are at all heavy, was extremely common. On the 16th a great part of the road lay through an extensive wood, of a species of oak (_Q. Ilex_), which I had only before seen in Kunawar, where it is not uncommon.

On the 15th I encamped at the village of Asdhari, at an elevation of 8800 feet, and nearly 2000 feet above the river. On the 16th my halting-place was Shol, a large village close to the Chenab, with an extensive tract of cultivation, quite bare of trees, except a few cherries. The elevation of my tent was here about 6900 feet: it was not more than fifty feet above the river. Opposite the village, on the south bank of the river, under a cliff which screened it from the rays of the sun, there was a very large patch of snow.

[Sidenote: CHATARGARH. _June, 1848._]

The early part of my march of the 17th was still along the Chenab, through fine shady forest, for about three miles, rising to the height of about 1000 feet, and again descending close to the water's edge. The road then continued nearly on a level with the stream, and became very rocky and difficult, planks of wood or rough bridges being laid in some places from rock to rock to effect a passage. Below this narrow rocky part of the channel the valley widened out on the north side into an open sandy plain, watered by a large tributary stream, descending from the north. Close to this stream lay the small fort of Chatargarh, the residence of the Thannadar of the valley, and of a small garrison of soldiers. The Butna, which here joins the Chenab, and up which my road lay, is a large impetuous stream. I crossed it a short way above the fort, by a good bridge, and, following its right bank for about two miles through oak forest, encamped at the village of Liundi.

The flora of the valley of the Chenab, as far as my road lay along it, continued to agree in most respects with that of Kunawar. As I descended the river, there were some indications of an approach to the vegetation of the outer Himalaya; but the number of species belonging to that flora which appeared was not great. A _Zizyphus_ common in the lower Sutlej and in Kashmir, the common pomegranate, and a shrubby _Desmodium_, were those noted. This gradual transition in the character of the vegetation occurs equally in Kunawar; and as both the Sutlej and the Chenab commence their course in an arid climate, and enter the plains under the full influence of the rains, it is quite in accordance with what might be expected to happen. The change is in both valleys extremely gradual, and appears to be directly proportional to the diminished elevation of the mountains which run parallel to the rivers on the south.[19]

[Sidenote: BUTNA VALLEY. _June, 1848._]

On the 18th of June my road again lay up the valley of the Butna, usually close to the stream, partly through bare country, with scattered bushes of _Zizyphus_ and _Daphne_, but mostly through very beautiful forest of oak, alder, horse-chesnut, and ash. The river varied much in character; but for the most part it flowed with great rapidity over a rocky channel, and in one place formed a cataract of some size. More than once, however, and always above the most rapid parts, it was tranquil, though still swift, and flowed between gravelly islands. The hills on both sides were steep and lofty, and after the first two miles, patches of snow occurred in every ravine. I passed several villages and a good deal of cultivation, and encamped at Chishot, at about 8200 feet above the level of the sea.

[Sidenote: ASCENT OF BUTNA VALLEY. _June, 1848._]

Next day, at starting, the road lay through pine-forests for about two miles, the elevation rapidly increasing. At about that distance, there was a very long rapid or cataract, with a fall of several hundred feet within a space of 150 or 200 yards. At the lower end of the rapid, the river disappeared under a snow-bed, which formed an arch across it from bank to bank. Above, the stream was wide and tranquil, and the pine-forest ceasing, the road entered an open valley, with much cultivation around the village of Himor. Along the water-courses by which the lands of this village were irrigated, there was a good deal of swampy ground, in which grew _Parnassia_, _Polygonum viviparum_, an _Orchis_ not unlike _O. latifolia_, a _Triglochin_, and some _Carices_, all Kunawar species. Beyond the village, the valley continued open and bare, but was very rocky, and covered with large boulders. There was no wood, except in the ravines, which were occupied by groves of poplar (_P. ciliata_) and walnut; a few trees of the same and of birch being scattered over the hill-sides. No oak or Gerard's pine was seen during the day. The herbaceous vegetation on the open sunny banks was very luxuriant, and the species were mostly the same as I have recorded in a similar situation, and at the same elevation, on the 13th, after descending from the Sach pass. I must except the _Eremurus_, then so abundant, which was here entirely wanting. There were also a few novelties. Large tracts were covered with a tall fern (_Pteris aquilina_?). After passing through the cultivated lands of a second village, and crossing some snow-beds, the road entered a wood of stunted deodars, and, turning to the left, proceeded up the more northerly of two ravines, into which the valley here divided. That to the south, which in direction was a continuation of the valley, was filled with forest, but the one up which the road turned was steep and stony, and contained only a few scattered trees of birch, hazel, and poplar. After a march of about eight miles, I encamped on an open level spot, where there were a few fields, and one or two huts, at present uninhabited, at an elevation of 10,500 feet.

[Sidenote: VIEW OF THE GLACIER. _June, 1848._]

On the 20th, I proceeded further up the same valley, ascending gently but steadily. The valley was open and bounded on both sides by steep rocky mountains, those on the right partially wooded with birch, on the other side quite bare. Behind, beyond the point from which I had the day before turned abruptly to the left, rose a lofty snowy peak, very steep and rocky; in front, only a very small portion of the snowy range which I was rapidly approaching could be seen. The stream was for the most part covered with snow, and the road crossed numerous snow-beds. At first, the hill-sides were rounded and covered with vegetation, but very soon the road became rocky, and was covered as yesterday with enormous boulders, evidently indicative of a former glacier. These were all gneiss, which rock also occurred _in situ_, as had been the case ever since I had left Chatargarh, where it replaced the clay-slate, which had been common on the banks of the Chenab. After walking for about two miles among these huge masses of rock, I suddenly emerged into open country, and, after descending a few feet, entered a level plain, nearly two miles in length and at least half a mile in width, partly covered with snow stretching down from the ravines on each side. This plain appeared to have been at one time the bed of a small lake; and as its lower end was crossed by an evident moraine, it seems probable that a glacier had at some former period crossed the valley and dammed up the channel of the stream. Small groves of willow of two distinct species, one twelve to fifteen feet high, the other not above two or three, were scattered over this plain. The surface, where free from snow, was usually grassy, and near the lower end very swampy. The snow had evidently very recently covered the whole surface, as few plants were yet in flower, except a bright blue gentian in the marshy parts, and a viscid _Cerastium_ on the gravel. A species of rhubarb was abundant on the banks surrounding this plain, and its acid leaf-stalks were eagerly eaten by the men who carried my luggage. The road traversed the whole length of this level tract, and, at its upper end, crossed two low ridges of boulders, evidently moraines. Beyond these lay another plain, much more barren and desolate-looking than the previous one, the greater part being still covered with snow. Those parts from which the snow had melted were gravelly, with scarce a vestige of vegetation. I encamped on the last bare spot of this plain, close to extensive snow-beds, from below which the stream flowed, and about a mile from the end of a large glacier which filled up the end of the valley, but was cut off abruptly at the commencement of the open plain. The elevation of my tent was 11,400 feet. The plain on which I was encamped was surrounded on all sides by lofty mountains, all extremely steep and rugged. Those to the south and east were covered with snow to the very base, but to the north little or no snow was visible, the hills close at hand rising so abruptly that they entirely excluded the view of the ranges behind. The southern slopes from the base to the height of about 1000 feet were covered with birch-trees, still quite leafless, except a few on the edge of the plain, which were beginning to throw out buds, the snow having melted round their roots.

On the 21st of June I continued my journey over the snow-bed close to which I had encamped, in the direction of the end of the glacier. While still several hundred yards distant from it, the road turned abruptly to the left, ascending a very steep stony hill, which formed the side of a lateral ravine descending from the north. When I had ascended a few hundred feet, I obtained an excellent view of the glacier which occupied the valley below. Its surface, from the great slope of the valley, was extremely irregular, and to all appearance quite impassable, from the numerous fissures which traversed it in every direction, and the irregular pinnacles of ice which rose above its surface. It was terminated abruptly by a perpendicular cliff, which projected more in the centre than on the sides, and was much and deeply fissured both horizontally and perpendicularly. The glacier was in parts covered with masses of boulders and gravel, on which lay a sprinkling of snow in small patches. The lateral moraines were well marked, being much higher than the surface of the glacier, and separated by a deep fissure from the rocky wall of the valley. Immediately in front of the termination of the glacier, the surface of the plain was free from snow; numerous boulders of large size were scattered over it, and large masses of ice, evidently fragments of the glacier, lay among them.

[Sidenote: ASCENT TOWARDS BARDAR PASS. _June, 1848._]

The ascent of the lateral ravine continued steep, sometimes over rock, often over what appeared to be an ancient moraine, and now and then over grassy sward, adorned with numerous alpine plants in full flower. Among these was a little _Iris_, which I had seen the day before in fruit, _Podophyllum_, _Fritillaria_, and a pretty rose-coloured _Pedicularis_. There were a few stunted bushes of birch on the first part of the ascent, but they were soon left behind. After ascending about 1500 feet, I passed a singular-looking little circular plain, perhaps half a mile in diameter, still covered with snow. The road lay on the left of this plain over a hill of boulders. It now ascended very rapidly, and soon reached another glacier, the termination of which was extremely oblique, being prolonged much further on the right or south-east side of the ravine than on the other. The slope of the valley was so extremely abrupt, that the surface of the glacier was fissured in a most extraordinary manner; and it was still partially covered with snow. The road ascended over the moraine which lay between the glacier and the wall of the valley, generally at a great height above the level of the ice. In the crevices of the stones one or two plants still lingered: _Primula minutissima_ was in flower, and a little _Sedum_ and a dwarf willow (_S. repens_, L.) were beginning to expand their buds. My day's march amounted to about five miles, and I encamped upon the moraine on a level piece of ground just large enough to hold my tent, and close to the glacier. The temperature of boiling water indicated an elevation of about 14,600 feet. All around was snow and ice, except one steep sloping bank facing the south, on the most sheltered corner of which my baggage porters established themselves. On this bank vegetation had already made considerable progress: at least a dozen species were in flower, of which the most abundant were a rose-coloured _Polygonum_, a _Potentilla_, and _Ranunculus_, and, most abundant of all, a beautiful blue _Gymnandra_.

The surface of the glacier opposite to my tent was much covered with debris, and many large boulders were imbedded in the ice, which was very much fissured, rising into sharp pinnacles. As the day advanced, it was traversed by numerous rills of water, and the sound of falling stones was heard in every direction.

I had hitherto been extremely fortunate in weather, considering the season; but just at sunset, a few light clouds having first appeared in the south horizon, the sky became suddenly overcast, and light snow began to fall. Very little fell during the night, but at daybreak on the 22nd of June, just as I was preparing to start, it began to snow rather heavily. I had unfortunately no choice but to proceed. The place in which I was encamped was not at all adapted for a resting-place during a heavy fall of snow; and arrangements had already been made for the relief of the baggage porters who had come with me, by a party of Zanskaries at the top of the pass on this day.

[Sidenote: LARGE GLACIER. _June, 1848._]

The first part of the ascent lay up the moraine parallel to the glacier, and was extremely steep for nearly 1000 feet of perpendicular elevation, up to the top of the very abrupt ravine in which I had been encamped. Beyond this, the valley widened considerably; and as its slope was now very gentle, the glacier was quite smooth, and the path lay over its surface, which was covered by a considerable layer (five or six inches) of last winter's snow, as well as by a sprinkling of that which had fallen during the night. The ice was a good deal fissured, but in general the fissures were not more than a few inches in width; a few only were as much as two feet. The road continued for two or three miles over the surface of the glacier, which gradually widened out as I advanced. Its upper part was expanded into an icy plain of great width, bounded by a semicircular arch of precipitous rocks, except where three ravines descended into it, down which three narrow glaciers flowed to contribute a supply of ice to the vast mass in the bay. On the smooth ice below, central moraines were very visible, and could be distinctly traced to the rocks by which the three smaller glaciers were separated. A great part of these central moraines were covered with snow; but now and then an immense detached boulder of gneiss was seen, supported by a column of clear blue ice, veined with horizontal white bands, by which it was raised high above the surface of the glacier, and the snow which covered it.

[Sidenote: SUMMIT OF PASS. _June, 1848._]

The three branches which united to form this grand sea of ice were very steep, and consequently much fissured and fractured. The road lay up that to the right, ascending by the moraine to the left of the glacier, the surface of the ice being quite impracticable. This ascent, which I estimated at the time to amount to at least 1000 feet, was exceedingly steep and laborious, as beneath a thin layer of fresh snow it was covered with hard frozen snow, on which the footing was quite insecure. On attaining the summit of this steep ascent, I found the surface of the glacier much more smooth, the inclination of the bed of the ravine having suddenly changed; it was now, however, covered with a layer of snow several feet thick, which probably tended to render small inequalities of surface unobservable. I was now in a wide valley or basin, the rocky hills on both sides rising precipitously to a height of from 200 to 1000 feet above the level of the snow. After perhaps two miles of gradual ascent, these rocky walls gradually closing in united in a semicircle in front, and the road passed through a gorge or fissure in the ridge, to the crest of which the snow-bed had gradually sloped up. This fissure, which was not more than two feet in width, was the pass, but when I reached it, snow was falling so thickly that I could not see ten yards in any direction. I therefore remained only long enough to ascertain that the boiling-point of water was 180·3°, indicating an elevation of at least 18,000 feet.

The commencement of the descent was very rapid down a narrow gorge, into which the fissure at the top widened by degrees. The fresh snow, which had fallen to the depth of at least a foot, was quite soft and yielding, so that great caution was required. After four or five hundred yards, the slope became more gradual and the ravine considerably wider. The road was now evidently over the surface of a glacier. The mountains on both sides were extremely rocky, rugged, and precipitous. Each lateral ravine brought an additional stream of ice to swell that in the central one; and on each lateral glacier there was a moraine which had to be crossed. Further on, the slope again increasing, the road left the surface of the glacier, and ascended the moraine by its side. This was at first covered with deep snow, both old and fresh; but as I advanced I found the old snow only in patches, but covered with a layer of new. At last I reached a point at which the snow melted as it fell, and not long after the glacier stopped abruptly, a considerable stream issuing from beneath the perpendicular wall by which it terminated.

[Sidenote: IMMENSE GLACIER. _June, 1848._]

Beyond the end of the glacier the valley continued very steep. It was several hundred feet across, and covered with loose stones of various sizes, over which the stream ran in a wide shallow channel. Lower down, the bed of the rivulet became contracted and rocky, and I crossed to its right bank over a natural bridge consisting of one large stone, ten or twelve feet long, which had fallen so as to lie across the rocky channel. Advancing a few paces beyond this bridge, I suddenly found myself at the end of the ravine, and overlooking a wide valley many hundred feet below, filled by an enormous glacier descending from the left. This glacier was completely covered with a mass of debris, which entirely concealed the ice, and from its enormous dimensions must have had a very distant source. I had no means at the time of determining with accuracy either its width or depth, nor do I find any estimate of it (except in superlatives) in my notes made on the spot; I cannot, therefore, at this distance of time, venture to give any exact dimensions: I can only say that it much exceeded in size any that I have before or since had an opportunity of seeing.

It was just at the termination of the upper ravine that the first traces of vegetation were observed: till reaching this point the rocks and gravel had been quite bare. The first plant observed was _Primula minutissima_; the only other in flower was a large purple-coloured _Crucifera_ (a species of _Parrya_), but leaves of several others were beginning to expand.

[Sidenote: ZANSKAR. _June, 1848._]

The road did not descend at once into the large valley, but, turning abruptly to the right, ran parallel to the glacier but high above it on the rocky mountain-side, for nearly a mile, gradually descending so as to reach the bottom of the valley just as the glacier ended. The valley beyond its termination was wide and stony, and I encamped among a number of very large boulders about half a mile further on. The elevation of my camp was 13,800 feet, so that I had descended upwards of 4000 feet from the top of the pass. I found that the inhabitants on the two sides of the pass knew it by different names, those of Padar, on the south, calling it the Bardar pass, while to the Zanskaries it is known as Umasi La.

The morning of the 23rd of June was bright and clear, but intensely frosty. The valley in which I was encamped was enclosed by lofty mountains covered with much snow, though on the level ground there were only a few patches. The road lay down the valley, which soon became narrow and stony, and the descent somewhat rapid. The ground was at first quite bare, and devoid of any sort of vegetation, except here and there on the bank of the stream, where, close to the water's edge, a small patch of green was occasionally to be seen. The narrowest parts of the ravine were occupied by large snow-beds, entirely covering the rivulet, but at intervals the valley widened out into a gravelly plain. After about a mile, some vegetation began to appear, and after four or five miles it became plentiful. The banks of the stream, in the wide and gravelly parts, were fringed with dwarf willows just bursting into leaf. _Primula minutissima_ was plentiful in the crevices of the stones, and I met with many plants scattered about, of which none but the very earliest were yet in flower. Two or three species only could be identified with the plants of the Indian side of the pass; the majority were quite different. _Lithospermum Euchromon_ of Royle, and the _Parrya_ first seen the day before, were among the commonest species; several other _Cruciferæ_ were also seen, as well as a _Gentiana_, one or two _Astragali_, a species of _Meconopsis_, a small _Gagea_, _Ephedra_, and _Nepeta glutinosa_. Species of _Artemisia_, _Cynoglossum_ and other _Boragineæ_, of _Polygonum_ and _Rheum_, though not in flower, were recognizable, but the greater number of plants were only beginning to vegetate. As I descended, a few shrubs of _Lonicera hispida_ and of _Rosa Webbiana_ (the Tibet rose) were met with, but all very stunted.

[Sidenote: VALLEY OF ZANSKAR. _June, 1848._]

The valley continued to descend, and the snow soon receded to some distance up the mountain-sides. At last I came to a single habitation, a little monastery inhabited by one Lama, and built under the precipitous rocks on the left side of the valley. A very small patch of cultivation lay on the bank of the stream just below it; the corn was not more than two or three inches high. A little further on, the road suddenly turned into a much larger and more open valley, watered by a considerable stream, which ran through a wide, open, gravelly channel, from which long and very slightly inclined gravelly slopes extended on both sides to the base of the mountains. The stream proved to be the western branch of the Zanskar river. To the north-westward of the point where I entered its valley, its upward course was visible for eight or ten miles, all the way through an open gravelly plain. Several villages and a good deal of cultivation were seen in that direction, on the slopes descending from the mountains.

My road lay to the eastward down the valley, partly through cultivated lands, partly over barren gravelly or stony plains, and often over grassy meadows on the banks of the river. Wheat, barley, and peas were the crops cultivated, all only a few inches in height. Round the fields and on the banks of the water-courses a luxuriant herbage was beginning to spring up, which contrasted strongly with the sterility of the stony plains. The fields were quite flat and generally unenclosed, the valley being too level to require terracing; small canals conducted water for irrigation to every field. The villages were all small and bare, and during the day I saw only a single tree--a small poplar--in a garden or enclosure at one of the last villages through which I passed, before halting for the day. I encamped, after a march of at least twelve miles, near the village of Markim, on a fine grassy plain close to the river, the banks of which were lined by a few bushes of _Myricaria_ and _Hippophaë_. The elevation of my tent was 12,100 feet.

In the valley of the Chenab the prevailing rock had everywhere been clay-slate, but where I turned up the valley of the Butna it was replaced by gneiss, which continued to form the whole mountain-mass on both sides of the Umasi pass, so far as I could infer the nature of their structure from the boulders brought down by glaciers. On the earlier part of this day's journey, the gneiss gave place again to mica-slate and clay-slate; but in the wide valley, where no rock was seen _in situ_, the boulders were all composed of gneiss, and had probably, therefore, been transported from the upper part of the mountains.

[Sidenote: PADUM. _June, 1848._]

On the 24th of June I continued my journey to Padum, which is considered the capital of Zanskar. My road lay still east, down a wide, open plain. The mountains on the north side of the valley were not to appearance very lofty, and were merely tipped with snow; those to the south were much higher and had a great deal of snow, which, however, did not come within perhaps 1500 feet of the plain. There was no snow in the plain itself, which had a width of from two to four miles. Cultivated tracts were frequent, occurring wherever water was easily procurable for irrigation, but the greater part of the surface was dry, barren, and stony, producing scarcely any herbage. The river ran through a wide, gravelly bed, and was divided into numerous channels. It was often fringed with low jungle of _Myricaria_ and _Hippophaë_, two shrubs which, though not entirely confined to Tibet, are most abundant in every part of that country up to nearly 14,000 feet, in the gravelly beds of streams. In some places the banks of the stream were very low and swampy, and covered with turf. About half-way down the plain the different branches of the river united into one, which ran with a swift impetuous current over the boulders which formed its bed, the melting of the snow on the mountains having brought down a very large body of water. At this point it was crossed by a rope-bridge, leading to a large village on the left bank. A little further on I passed through a considerable village, with extensive cultivated lands, and a large well-built monastery, in which, I believe, Csoma de Körös resided while in Zanskar. The road then made a considerable detour to the south, to the base of the mountains, to reach a bridge over a lateral stream now so much swollen as to be unfordable. After crossing this stream by a good wooden bridge, the road entered an open grassy plain sloping imperceptibly from the mountains towards the river, at the south-east angle of which lay the town or village of Padum.

Padum, which was at one time the principal place in Zanskar, is, though now much decayed, still considered as such, probably both from its central situation and from the garrison of Gulab Singh's troops being established near it. It is built on a low hill lying at the south-east corner of a wide open plain which surrounds the junction of two large streams which here unite to form the Zanskar river. Of these, one descending from the south runs through a rocky and barren country, which contains, I was informed, but few and small villages. It is that to which Moorcroft, who crossed it near its source, has given the name of Zanskar; and as it appears to the eye the larger stream of the two, it will probably be found entitled to retain the name, although the district watered by the western branch, which runs gently through an open country, is much more fertile and populous. The junction of these two streams takes place four or five miles north of Padum. The plain is partly low and partly a platform nearly a hundred feet above the level of the rivers.

[Sidenote: CLIMATE OF ZANSKAR. _June, 1848._]

Entirely secluded by lofty ranges of snowy mountains from the approach of any moisture-bringing winds, the valley of Zanskar has an absolutely Tibetan climate. Tree vegetation is entirely wanting, and the mountains and plains are dry, barren, and desolate. At the same time, from the dryness of the summer, the powerful influence of the sun induces here, as elsewhere in Tibet, a much milder climate than prevails at an equal elevation within the influence of the periodical rains, for in no part of the Indian portion of the mountains does any cultivated valley exist at an elevation of 12,000 feet above the level of the sea. The extent of open country is more considerable in this portion of the Zanskar valley than elsewhere in the basin of the Indus. Villages also are frequent, particularly in the lower part, and the cultivated lands of many of them are extensive. The alluvial platforms are of great extent, and so nearly level, that no terracing is required for purposes of irrigation. On this account, and from the total want of fences, the appearance of the plain is remarkable, and very different from that usual around Tibetan villages. At the period of my visit, the crops were only a few inches in height, and the whole population were busy in the fields, irrigating them and keeping out straggling cattle. The inhabitants, in appearance, manners, and mode of life, are the same as those of Ladak; their language and religion too are the same, as far as I could learn.

[Sidenote: VEGETATION OF ZANSKAR. _June, 1848._]

The change of climate was, as a matter of course, accompanied by an almost total change of vegetation, which had assumed entirely the Tibetan character. Scarcely more than a fourth, on a rough estimate, of the species observed, were the same as grew on the Indian side of the pass. Of these, a very few were cosmopolitan or widely-diffused plants. Such were _Thymus Serpyllum_, _Plantago Asiatica_, _Taraxacum_, _Veronica biloba_, _Medicago lupulina_, and _Polygonum aviculare_ or a closely-allied species. The greater number were species of the dry climate, which, from being capable of bearing a certain quantity of moisture, vegetate also in the first valleys on the opposite side of the pass, though quite incapable of living under the full influence of the rains: as instances, I may mention _Rosa Webbiana_, _Myricaria_, _Hippophaë_, _Ephedra_, _Aquilegia Moorcroftiana_, and several _Astragali_.

Excluding both these classes, more than two-thirds of the plants were entirely different from those which flourish on the Indian side. The season was early spring, so that a great part of the vegetation was still dormant, but it was making rapid strides under the influence of a powerful sun, particularly in the neighbourhood of the town of Padum, which appeared to be the warmest nook in the valley. The dry, barren tracts, which constitute the greater part of the surface, produced numerous, generally dwarf species of _Boragineæ_ and _Cruciferæ_. Three _Potentillæ_ were common, one of them _P. anserina_. Near the river there was a more luxuriant vegetation. Rank species of _Heracleum_, _Astragalus_, _Scrophularia_, _Matthiola_, and _Eurotia_ were coming into flower under the shelter of walls and bushes. In richer soil a species of _Hyoscyamus_, with pale yellow trumpet-shaped flowers (_Belenia_ of Decaisne), was common, while around the fields grew species of _Geranium_, _Cynoglossum_, _Nepeta_, and _Astragalus_. Except a little _Poa_, no grasses were yet in flower, but several small _Cyperaceæ_ formed dense patches of turf. The meadows close to the edge of the river were invariably swampy, and had a peculiar vegetation of their own, consisting of two species of _Triglochin_, a white-flowered _Taraxacum_, a little _Primula_, _Ranunculus Cymbalaria_, and _Glaux_, with _Hippuris_ and _Utricularia_ in the pools of water.

FOOTNOTES:

[19] A species of vine was very common in the forests, climbing to a great height on the trees, which very closely resembled the common cultivated vine, from which it is not, I think, specifically distinct. At the same time, my specimens are scarcely distinguishable from _Vitis Indica_, L., a species of the plains of India, not uncommon in hot jungles, even at a considerable distance from the foot of the mountains.