Western Himalaya and Tibet Part 18

[Sidenote: VALLEY OF DRAS.

_April, 1848._]

On the 6th of April, I entered the Dras valley, and encamped at Ulding Thung, where there were still a few patches of snow. On the 7th, I marched to Hardas, ten miles. Here, at about 9000 feet, spring had scarcely commenced. The fruit-trees showed no signs of vitality; and though the fields had been ploughed, the grain had not yet begun to vegetate. The valley of the Dras river begins to expand at the village of Bilergu, four or five miles above Ulding. As soon as there is enough of level s.p.a.ce, beds of conglomerate, and more rarely of fine clay, appear along the river. Round the village of Bilergu, the poplars, willows, and apricots are as numerous as in the valley of the Indus; but beyond it, the inclination of the valley is considerable, and at Hardas there were but few trees. Above Bilergu the quant.i.ty of snow increased considerably, and the contrast between the sides of the valley was very striking: at Hardas, the shady slope was quite white, while that facing the south had only a few patches of snow.

On the 8th of April, I marched to Karbu, eight miles. As I advanced, I found much more snow; but the road was in general free, except in the ravines where snow-slips had descended. On the latter part of the day, these were universal in all the ravines, and were frequently of great depth, and so soft as to be difficult to cross: on the least deviation from the beaten path, I sank to the middle at every step. These avalanches were cut off abruptly by the river, forming cliffs of snow fifteen or twenty feet high, in which the structure and development of the ma.s.s by successive slips, alternating with falls of snow, could be distinctly made out. One or two of them still crossed the river, which flowed below the bridge of ice. Three miles below Karbu, the granite, which had been the rock ever since entering Dras, was replaced by a peculiar slate, apparently magnesian, and perhaps hornblende slate, pa.s.sing into or containing beds of a coa.r.s.e sandstone.

At Karbu, where I was detained a day, the Thannadar not having expected me so soon, and my porters not being ready, the weather was very unsettled, and in the evening, and during the nights of the 8th and 9th of April, there was a good deal of rain, especially on the 9th. The wind during the storm was very irregular in direction. The ground was still covered to the depth of more than a foot with snow.

The morning of the 10th was gloomy, but as the day advanced the clouds broke, and the afternoon was bright and beautiful, with a gentle air down the valley.

[Sidenote: FORT OF DRAS.

_April, 1848._]

On the 11th of April I reached the fort of Dras. For the last ten miles the snow lay continuously, and two or three feet deep, but there was always a clear path. The temperature being much above the freezing-point, the thaw proceeded rapidly. A good deal of _Prangos_, which is evidently a common wild plant (as it is also in many parts of Kashmir), was seen; the withered inflorescence projecting through the snow. I observed it also very abundantly in the hay, which is preserved in the villages, and seems to consist of all the plants of the meadows cut indiscriminately, and not of _Prangos_ alone, as I had erroneously imagined.

[Sidenote: MATEN.

_April, 1848._]

My former journey having terminated at Dras, the road in advance was new to me; but the whole country being still covered with snow, I could see little of the nature of the surface. The fort of Dras is about 10,000 feet above the sea: it is situated in an open, nearly level plain of some width, skirted by low hills. The higher mountains, which are several miles distant on both sides, are very steep. Several villages are scattered over the plain, at some distance from the fort, which stands alone, on the bank of a little stream, just before it joins the Dras river. Beyond Dras, the road to the pa.s.s having scarcely been used, there was no beaten path. In the morning the snow was hard and firm, and even in the afternoon, notwithstanding the warmth of the midday sun, the foot did not sink more than three or four inches. The depth of snow increased rapidly as I advanced. Two miles above the fort the plain contracts into a narrow valley, and the channel of the river becomes very rocky; the stream is also very rapid, and the slope of its bed evidently considerable. The valley again expands around the village of Pain Dras. Immediately beyond this I crossed the river on a bridge of snow, at least forty feet thick, which covered the river for more than a hundred yards. This snow-bed, which was continuous with the general level of the surface, was to all appearance quite solid. After a march of ten miles I encamped at Maten, the last village of Dras, a small group of stone huts half a mile from the river on its eastern bank, and immediately at the base of a very steep scarped mountain, which rises in precipices several thousand feet above the village. Maten I estimated, from the boiling-point of water, to be 10,700 feet above the sea.

[Sidenote: ZOJI Pa.s.s.

_April, 1848._]

On the 13th of April I crossed the pa.s.s into Kashmir, starting, as the distance was said to be considerable, at about half-past two o'clock in the morning. The evening before had been dull, with irregular squalls of wind, so that the weather did not promise very favourably. It was very dark and quite calm at two A.M., and when I started it snowed slightly, but not enough to induce me to stop, as I hoped it would cease with daylight. Unfortunately, on the contrary, it increased rapidly, and by four o'clock was snowing heavily, and continued to do so till the afternoon. There was no wind, and the air was very mild, so that I suffered no inconvenience from cold. The surface of the snow, even in the morning, was a little soft, the cloudy night having prevented it from freezing. After four o'clock it snowed so heavily that the acc.u.mulation of fresh snow soon amounted to several feet, and we sank above the knee at every step. There was scarcely any slope, the road appearing quite horizontal. Before daylight my guides managed to lose their way, and we wandered for more than half an hour puzzled by our own footsteps. The compa.s.s was of no use, as I did not know the direction in which we ought to proceed, nor was it till after dawn that we recovered the road.

[Sidenote: VALLEY OF THE SIND RIVER.

_April, 1848._]

After daylight there was no improvement in any respect, as the heavy snow completely obscured the view. The leaders of the party, however, seemed to recognize the outlines of the hills, as they held their course without hesitation. The valley was quite full of snow, which completely covered all irregularities of surface. The river was often quite covered by the ma.s.s of snow for distances of more than a furlong without interruption. Our path often crossed it; and, latterly, for several miles before gaining the crest of the pa.s.s, the stream was completely concealed.

About noon the snow fell more lightly, and we could see around. The width of the valley was from half a mile to a mile, and steep mountains rose on both sides to a considerable height, the peaks being, I should think, at least 16,000 feet. Patches of willow and juniper were seen on the sides of the hills. Still the road was to appearance quite level. The valley made several bends, and we turned finally to the right, before gaining the crest of the pa.s.s, to which there was a barely perceptible rise.

The descent was at first gradual, but soon became very steep, down a bank of snow, which filled the whole of a narrow ravine. The rocky walls on either side were at first bare, but soon became sprinkled with birch and pine. For two thousand feet below the summit of the pa.s.s the descent was uninterrupted, till I reached the banks of the Sind river, which flows through the northernmost valley of Kashmir, and is separated from the main valley by a lofty range of mountains.

Here, on a level s.p.a.ce separated by a little stream from pine-forest, I found a log-hut buried up to the roof in snow, which was heaped up round the building, probably from having been thrown off the roof. The snow at Baltal--for so this first halting-place on the Kashmir side of the Zoji pa.s.s is called--was not deep, probably little more than what had fallen during the day.

[Sidenote: DETENTION AT BALTAL.

_April, 1848._]

My whole party took possession of the log-hut; but not liking the smoke which, in an instant, filled it, so that there was no seeing across its width, I had a s.p.a.ce cleared for my tent. It rained smartly in the evening, but soon after dark it again began to snow, and long before morning I was awoke by the cracking of the ridge-pole of my tent, which had given way under the pressure of a foot and a half of snow. Had it fallen at once I should probably have been buried till morning, as I was too distant to make myself heard, and had to rise to summon a.s.sistance, to move my bed into the log-hut.

All day on the 14th it snowed unceasingly, and my people would not continue the journey; but on the 15th it was fair, and I gladly made a move, as the log-hut of Baltal was a most uncomfortable resting-place.

The road lay along the Sind river, which ran to the south-west, through a deep but rather open valley, only partially wooded. The forest consists partly of pines, partly of deciduous-leaved trees. Of these I could recognize birch, poplar, and willow, which formed the ma.s.s of the woods, but there were no doubt many others. The pines were princ.i.p.ally _Pinus excelsa_; silver fir and spruce also occurred, but I saw no deodar nor Gerard's pine. The trees grew in well defined ma.s.ses of forest, separated by much open ground, in the level plain which skirted the river on the south side of the valley; on this side they also rose high on the mountains, but the slopes on the north side were bare.

[Sidenote: SONAMARG.

_April, 1848._]

Seven or eight miles from Baltal, I found an uninhabited house, at a place called Sonamarg[17], where a bridge crosses the Sind river. Snow had been continuous all the way, diminis.h.i.+ng in depth as we descended the river. A mile or two before reaching Sonamarg, the stream approaches close to the mountains on the north side of the valley, barely leaving a pa.s.sage for the road, which for some distance skirted the base of steep cliffs. In one of the ravines which here furrowed the mountain slopes, I had an opportunity of seeing the descent of an avalanche. While crossing the ravine I was warned by the sound that a snow-slip was approaching, but had abundance of time to retreat to a place of safety before it came near. When the avalanche came into sight, the ravine, which was narrow and deep, was completely filled by b.a.l.l.s of snow of various dimensions, which continued to flow past for several minutes. The snow-slip terminated in the river, which was speedily blocked up for two-thirds of its width with an immense acc.u.mulation of snow.

At Sonamarg the Sind river bends abruptly towards the south, and enters a rocky gorge, down which its stream advances with great rapidity, over a steeply inclined bed, very rocky and much interrupted by rapids. Leaving Sonamarg on the morning of the 16th of April, I crossed the river, and after a mile and a half of level ground bare of trees, still covered with snow, I entered a thin forest of pine and silver fir, which continued to the entrance of the gorge. The silver fir (_Picea Webbiana_) was a fine straight tree, with short horizontal or drooping branches, and its leaves were very variable in length.

When I had fairly entered the narrow gorge of the river, I found that it was in many places still blocked up with snow, which had descended in avalanches down the narrow ravines, and had acc.u.mulated in the bed of the stream. We crossed the river three times on snow-beds. From the rapidity of the descent, however, the climate changed rapidly. After four or five miles there was no snow, except in ravines, where it had acc.u.mulated in avalanches, and at last even these had almost entirely melted away. Still snow lay in patches on the right bank of the river, in the village of Gagangir, at which I halted for the day; and on the left bank, which faced the north, and was therefore in shade, snow still covered the whole surface down to the bank of the river.

[Sidenote: GAGANGIR.

_April, 1848._]

At the village of Gagangir the Sind river resumes its south-westerly direction, and its valley becomes more open, and the descent of its bed less abrupt. The elevation of the village is about 7900 feet above the level of the sea, so that the descent from Sonamarg is probably not less than a thousand feet in a distance of nine miles--a very considerable fall. On the latter part of the day's journey, a very considerable change was observable in the aspect of the vegetation.

Birch and willow continued common throughout, but were mixed latterly with many other trees and shrubs, all of which were beginning to show symptoms of vitality. The hazel (_Corylus lacera_) and a species of _Viburnum_ were in full flower, both still devoid of leaves; a few herbaceous plants were also in flower in open places, the most abundant of which were a species of _Colchic.u.m_, remarkable for its bright orange-coloured flowers, and a pretty little rose-purple _Corydalis_, very closely allied to, if not the same as, a species of eastern Europe. Still the general aspect of the country was very wintry, as there were few pines, and the forest was therefore quite bare of leaves, while the signs of progress, though evident on a near inspection, did not attract attention in the general view.

[Sidenote: SIND VALLEY.

_April, 1848._]

At Gagangir, which is the first village of Kashmir by the route along which I was travelling, I was enabled to relieve my Dras porters, who had accompanied me so far. The discharge and payment of these men occupied me a great part of the 17th of April; and as the day was rainy I did not leave Gagangir till the 18th, when I marched to Gond, seven miles. The road still followed the course of the Sind river, which I crossed twice during the day. The width of the valley was considerable all along, with much arable land, and a good many villages in ruins on both sides. The mountains on the right hand were uniformly bare of trees, and often rocky; on the left they were well wooded to the summit, the forest being most dense above. Early in the day several of the ravines were still full of snow; and on the shady side a good deal lay in patches. Further on, the snow in the valley had quite disappeared, but on the mountain slopes there was still plenty. As I advanced the cultivated land increased in extent, and the appearance of the valley became exceedingly picturesque, the centre being occupied by a broad belt of fields and orchards, while the hills on both sides rose abruptly to a great elevation. The fruit-trees were princ.i.p.ally walnuts, apples, and apricots. Groves of poplar occurred occasionally along the river, but I saw no birch during the day. Many more spring plants were in flower than on the previous day; _Cruciferae_ were the prevailing family, but I also collected species of _Nepeta_ and _Gagea_, and a pretty little tulip. On the latter part of the march, a small shrubby species of _Amygdalus_ was very abundant; and _Fothergilla involucrata_ of Falconer, a plant of the natural order _Hamamelideae_, which was just bursting into flower, formed a dense coppice on the hills on the north bank of the river.

Though the greater part of the plants was new to me, still I recognized a number of species which occur in the valley of the Indus.

_Juniperus excelsa_ was common in rocky places, and the _Ribes_ and rose were the same as those common at Iskardo.

[Sidenote: VEGETATION.

_April, 1848._]

On the 19th, the road still followed the course of the Sind river, now a rapid torrent, much swollen by the heavy rains, flowing through an open valley. A good deal of level ground was interposed between the mountains and the stream, and was laid out in terraced fields evidently adapted for rice cultivation, but now quite bare. I met with many very interesting plants. _Tussilago Farfara_ was abundant, growing in gravelly places along the river. In shady woods a species of _Hepatica_, with a small white flower, first discovered by Dr.

Falconer, was common. In more sunny places a _Primula_ and _Androsace_ were in full flower. On open sandy soil a species of the curious Siberian genus _Ceratocephalus_ was a very striking novelty. On the higher hills there was still dense forest of _Pinus excelsa_, spruce, silver fir, and deodar, mixed with yew and _Juniperus excelsa_, and with many deciduous-leaved trees, few of which were recognizable.

After travelling twelve miles I encamped at Gangan, which is elevated about 6000 feet.

Next day I remained stationary; but on the 21st I continued my journey to Ganderbal, nine miles further and close to the point where the Sind valley expands into the open plain of Kashmir. As I advanced, the valley gradually widened, and turned more to the south. There were several platforms, or steppes, as it were, of nearly level arable land, one above another, and below them the river flowed through a wide stony plain. The mountains on the right, high and snow-topped, receded to a considerable distance; those on the left gradually diminished in elevation, became less covered with forest, and at last terminated in low ranges of hills covered only with brush-wood. The road was extremely pretty. At first it lay along the right bank of the river, through fine underwood, and among beautiful meadows, which skirted the bank of the stream; it then crossed to the left bank, and, ascending the lower hills, entered a fine wood, in which apricot, pear, and cherry trees, all bursting into flower, were common, and to all appearance wild, though they had probably spread into these woods from the neighbouring villages. Latterly we emerged upon a somewhat elevated platform sloping to the south, covered with bushes and many fruit-trees, with here and there a village, and a great deal of cultivated ground. Where the Sind valley joined the plain of Kashmir, it was several miles in width, and evidently richly cultivated. The expanse of the plain of Kashmir was much greater than I had antic.i.p.ated; the mountains on its south side, which were still covered with snow, were in sight, but at a considerable distance.

Above Gond the valley of the Sind river is very poorly inhabited, and deserted villages and abandoned cultivation showed that the population is diminis.h.i.+ng. The lower part of the valley, however, is very populous. The villages are numerous and large, and the houses good: they are usually built entirely or partially of wood, with high sloping roofs, which are either thatched or covered with wood. The cultivated lands all rest upon platforms or banks of alluvium, which are probably a.n.a.logous to those of the Tibetan valleys, though, as they are generally faced by sloping banks covered with bush-jungle, their structure is not so easily determined as that of the platforms of that more barren country.

[Sidenote: PLAIN OF KASHMIR.

_April, 1848._]

On the morning of the 22nd of April, after following the base of the low hills for half a mile, till the last projecting point had been rounded, I entered the valley of Kashmir. This "celebrated valley" did not at all come up to the expectations which I had formed from previous descriptions, and from the appearance of the termination of the valley of the Sind river. The first impression was one of considerable disappointment. It was by no means well wooded, and the centre of the valley along the river, being very low, had an unpleasant swampy appearance. The road to the town, which is about ten miles from Ganderbal, led over an elevated platform. There were several villages, and plane, willow, and fruit trees were scattered here and there, though far from abundantly. The platform was in general covered with a carpet of green, now spangled with myriads of dandelions and other spring flowers. The mountains on the left, which at first were very low, gradually rose in elevation, and were throughout rugged and bare. As I approached the town I mounted an elephant, which formed a part of the _cortege_ sent, according to the usual oriental etiquette, to receive an expected visitor; and I consequently saw the town to much better advantage than I should have done had I ridden through it on my little Ladak pony. Pa.s.sing completely through the city, I was conducted to the Sheikh Bagh, a garden on the banks of the Jelam, at its eastern extremity, in a pavilion in the centre of which I took up my quarters.

[Sidenote: CITY OF KASHMIR.

_April, 1848._]

The town of Kashmir is apparently of great extent, and seems very densely populated. Its length is much greater than its width, as it is hemmed in between the Jelam on the south and a lake on the north. The princ.i.p.al part of the town is on the north side of the Jelam, but a large suburb occupies the opposite bank, surrounding the Sher-Garhi, or fortified palace of the ruler of the country. The streets are in general so narrow, that there are but few through which an elephant can pa.s.s; and the houses, which have mostly several stories, are built with a wooden frame-work, the lower story of stone and those above of brick. There are no buildings of any great note; and the elaborate account of Moorcroft renders it unnecessary to enter into any detail.

The river is crossed by many bridges, all built of deodar-wood.

[Sidenote: PLAIN OF KASHMIR.

_April, 1848._]

The province or country of Kashmir consists of an extensive plain, surrounded on all sides by lofty mountains. It is the valley of the river Behat, or Jelam, which is separated from that of the Chenab on the south, by rugged and often snowy ranges, and from the basin of the Indus on the north, by the main axis of the Western Himalaya, which, originating in the peaks of Kailas, separates the basins of the Sutlej and the Chenab from that of the Indus. The mountains which surround the plain of Kashmir are very lofty. Those on the north are for the most part bare and rugged on their southern face, while those which lie to the south appear from the plain to be magnificently wooded with forests of pines and deciduous-leaved trees, descending almost to their base. On both sides of the valley the mountains rise above the level of perpetual snow, but those on the north side are considerably more lofty than the others. Numerous transverse valleys penetrate into these mountains, which are well cultivated in their lower parts, and, higher up, present superb mountain scenery. On the south side of the valley, many pa.s.ses, varying in elevation from 10,000 to 14,000 feet, lead across the main chain to the Chenab valley and the plains of India. To the north there are only two frequented routes, that by the Garys pa.s.s towards Hasora and Deotsu, and that by the valley of the Sind river towards Dras. At the eastern end of the valley a high pa.s.s leads across the mountains to the valley of Wardwan, from which travellers can reach Kargil and the Indus on the left, and Kishtwar in the valley of the Chenab on the right.

The flat country or alluvial plain of Kashmir, which is 5300 feet above the sea, is about fifty miles in length, and not more than ten or twelve miles wide. It commences close to Islamabad, where the last spurs of the mountains at the east end of the valley disappear; and terminates at Baramula, where the ranges, branches of the opposite mountain chains, again advance close to the bank of the river. It is traversed in its whole length by the river Jelam, which rises at the east end of the valley, and winds from one side of the plain to the other, at one time was.h.i.+ng the base of the northern hills, at another receding to a considerable distance from them. The Jelam flows with a tranquil stream, and, being navigable throughout the whole of the level country as far up as Islamabad, for boats of considerable burden, is the great highway for the traffic of the country, in which, notwithstanding its being perfectly level, wheel-carriages are unknown. At Islamabad it is a very small stream, but it gradually enlarges, by additions from both sides, as it descends. Near the town of Kashmir it is from fifty to a hundred yards wide, often very deep, and in few places fordable, even at the driest season.

[Sidenote: LACUSTRINE STRATA.

_April, 1848._]

The plain of Kashmir has evidently at one time been the bed of a lake, a deposit of fine clayey and sandy strata, more rarely partially indurated into a soft sandstone rock, occupying a great part of the surface. Soft pebbly conglomerate is also occasionally met with, and an indurated conglomerate, containing water-worn pebbles, occurs in many places in the lower course of the Sind river. This lacustrine formation forms elevated platforms, which are from fifty to one hundred and fifty feet or more above the level of the river. In many places, both on the Jelam and along the lateral streams which descend from the mountains to join it, the beds of clay have been removed by aqueous action. In such places the plain has a lower level, often very little above the surface of the river, and is covered with rice-fields or with marshy lands, undrained and not under cultivation.

[Sidenote: LAKE OF KASHMIR.