CHAPTER XIII.

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.

[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.