Chapter 4 No.4

Hangarang ridge separates Kunawar from Piti-Ascent to Hangarang Pass-Alluvial deposit-Steep ascent-View of valley-Limestone rocks-Caragana versicolor, or Dama-Camp at 14,000 feet-Top of pass-View from pass-Vegetation of summit-Descent to Hango-Cultivation round the village-Luxuriant wild plants-Road to Lio-Crambe-Ravine of Piti river-Lio-Bridge over Piti river-Ascent to Nako-Nako-Cultivation of the village-Buddhist temple-Transported blocks-Chango-Changar-Stopped by villagers on Chinese frontier-Natural bridge-Kyuri-Alluvium-Clay deposit with shells-Lari-Ramifications of mountain ranges-Alluvi

al platforms-Pok-Dankar-Lara-Rangrig-Upper part of Piti-Climate-Saline exudations

The Hangarang ridge, as we may conveniently call that mountain range on which the pass of Hangarang is situated, forms the boundary between the districts of Kunawar and Hangarang. As this range terminates at or close to the point where the Sutlej is joined by the Piti river, this division is geographically convenient. It has also a marked physical signification, forming the absolute limit of the deodar and Gerard's pine; and indeed, if we except the juniper, of all tree vegetation.

On the 22nd of August, our party left Sungnam to ascend towards the Hangarang pass, encamping, as on the two previous occasions, on the upper part of the ascent, so as to get to the summit of the pass at an early hour next day. Our road lay up a narrow ravine, through which a small stream descended from the vicinity of the Hangarang pass, to join the Ruskalan immediately below Sungnam. We followed for a long time the course of this rivulet, so that the ascent was by no means fatiguing. A very few stunted deodars, and a single tree of Pinus Gerardiana, were the only trees met with. A little shrubby vegetation was now and then seen, consisting of an ash, rose, Colutea, Lonicera, and Spir?a. The banks of the ravine were everywhere composed of a conglomerate of angular stones, in general imbedded in soft clay, though the matrix was not unfrequently calcareous, and in several places even composed of crystalline carbonate of lime.

BEDS OF CONGLOMERATE.

August, 1847.

The hard calcareous conglomerates are, I think, of different origin from the clayey ones. Indeed, I was induced to believe from what I saw in the neighbourhood of Sungnam, and occasionally in other districts (as I shall have again occasion to notice), that the calcareous conglomerates, which only occur in the neighbourhood of the limestone formation, and therefore where calcareous springs are common, are formed by the infiltration of water containing lime among beds of loose shingle which have accumulated along the base of the steep hills. These calcareous conglomerates are quite local, never very extensive, and are often covered with an incrustation of lime, showing the continued existence of the calcareous springs, by the action of which I suppose them to have been formed.

ALLUVIAL CONGLOMERATE.

August, 1847.

The clay beds, on the other hand, are continuous and uniform in appearance. They vary much in thickness, but are on the whole much thicker and more remarkable in the upper part of the ravine, where (on the east side) a mass of clay, not less than five or six hundred feet in thickness, has accumulated, forming steep sloping or quite perpendicular banks, which at the top are worn away into pinnacles, and excavated into deep grooves and hollows, I presume by the action of melting snow. The fragments of rock which it contained were all angular, or at most a very little worn at the edges.

Five or six miles from Sungnam, the road left the course of the ravine, and began rapidly to ascend the steep spur which bounded it on the left. At first we followed a fissure in the clay conglomerate, which still had a thickness of nearly two hundred feet. Above, the ridge was rocky and very steep. When we had attained a sufficient height to overlook the valley by which we had ascended from Sungnam, I was able to estimate better than while in the ravine, the extent of the clay deposit. It was now seen to occupy both sides of the valley, and to be pretty equally diffused throughout, but certainly thicker on the left or eastern side,-in the upper part at least, for low down, just behind Sungnam, it capped a round sloping hill of considerable elevation to the right of the little streamlet and of the road. The valley did not narrow at the lower extremity, where it debouched into that of the Ruskalan, so much as to give any reason for supposing that it could have been closed by a barrier, so as to form a lake. Indeed, the absolute elevation of the conglomerate was so great at the upper end of the valley, that it would be necessary to suppose a barrier several thousand feet above the bed of the Ruskalan to produce such an effect. The greater thickness of the conglomerate in the upper part of the ravine, and the almost complete angularity of the fragments, were equally opposed to such a view. Nor was I able to form any probable conjecture as to the mode in which these accumulations had been formed.

ROCKS OF HANGARANG.

August, 1847.

In the earlier part of the day's journey, the rock, where exposed, was invariably clay-slate, not different in appearance from that which, commencing at Lipa, had been observed on every part of the Runang ridge. It dipped generally at a high angle, but was often much contorted. In the upper part of the ravine, thick beds of a hard cherty quartz rock alternated with the slate; and in the course of the last steep ascent, at an elevation of about 13,500 feet, the first limestone was observed. It was of a dark blue colour, very hard, coarsely stratified, and much veined with white calcareous spar. It seemed to dip at a high angle towards the north-east.

The ridge by which we ascended was quite bare of trees and exceedingly barren, producing very little vegetation of any sort, and no novelty, till we had almost attained an elevation of 14,000 feet. We then observed bushes of a species of Caragana (C. versicolor), the Dama of the Tibetans, a very curious stunted shrub, which is very extensively distributed at elevations which no other woody plants attain, and which, therefore, is much prized and extensively used as fuel. I had not met with it before, nor does it appear to extend at all into the wooded region of the Himalaya. We encamped on a flat piece of ground at 14,000 feet. Notwithstanding the elevation, the heat of the sun was very great during the day, but the evening and night were extremely cold.

HANGARANG PASS.

August, 1847.

Early next morning a short steep ascent of about 800 feet brought us to the top of the pass, which has an elevation of 14,800 feet above the sea. The Dama, in green patches from two to four feet in diameter, was abundant till near the summit. The pass occupies a hollow in the ridge, which rises considerably on both sides. To the north-west, on the northern exposure, there was at a short distance one small patch of snow, from which the pass and surrounding mountains were otherwise quite free. No remarkable difficulty of breathing was experienced by any of the party, except immediately after any exertion. The ascent was latterly so steep, that it was necessary to stop frequently to take breath, and the pulse was found to be very considerably accelerated when counted immediately after walking. There was, however, a great difference according to the individual; in one case it rose as high as 136; but a few minutes' rest restored it nearly to the usual standard.

At the crest of the pass, the rock was a hard bluish-grey limestone, traversed in every direction by numerous crystalline veins. I ascended the hill to the south-east, to an elevation of nearly 16,000 feet, which was within a few hundred feet of the summit. At that height it was composed of a mass of loose fragments of black slate, perfectly moveable, and so steep, that it was difficult to progress in an upward direction. Vegetation had almost disappeared; more, however, from the moveable shingly soil than from the elevation attained, for wherever a solid rock peeped out, straggling plants still lingered; the rhubarb, Biebersteinia, a minute saxifrage, and a yellow lichen, were the species which attained the greatest altitude.

The view from the summit of the pass, and the steep hill above it, was extensive, but very desolate. In the direction of our previous journey, the rounded outline of the Runang range bounded the view, but in front a much wider and more diversified extent of country was embraced. To the eastward, the lofty mountain of Porgyul was seen almost to its base; its upper part a magnificent mass of snow, the summit being upwards of 22,000 feet in height. To the north of Porgyul, where the valley of the Piti river allowed the distant mountains to be seen, a succession of ranges rose one beyond another, the furthest evidently at a great distance, and covered with heavy snow[7].

The vegetation at the summit of the ridge was even more scanty than on the Runang pass. There was, however, more novelty in species than I had met with there. A grass, several saxifrages, Potentill? and Seda, a little Thermopsis, an Anemone, and a beautiful Delphinium (D. Brunonianum, Royle), were the new species observed; and these, I believe, (as was indeed to be expected from the minuteness with which the country had been investigated by Dr. Royle's collectors,) were all previously described species.

HANGO.

August, 1847.

From the pass the descent was pretty steep all the way to Hango, a small village, elevated 11,500 feet. The road lay on the side of a ravine, keeping the hills on the left hand, and the channel of the stream on the right. The Dama, which had disappeared at the summit, was again plentiful on the northern slope; and a shrubby species of Potentilla, quite new to me, was exceedingly common. Otherwise, little change was visible. The road was good, but the hills were dry and stony.

The village of Hango, notwithstanding its great elevation, has a considerable extent of cultivation, though I think the corn was less luxuriant than at lower levels. The wheat was still green, and rather scanty, a good deal of a wild oat (perhaps Avena fatua) being mixed with it; but the barley was stronger and more productive. There was also a number of fields of Hordeum ?giceras, that curious awnless monstrous barley, which seems peculiar to the higher regions of Tibet, where it is very frequently cultivated. This grain was much further advanced than the wheat, being nearly ripe. The arable lands of Hango are nearly destitute of trees, a few willows being the only arboreous vegetation. They are abundantly supplied with water, circulating in copious rills among the different fields, which are disposed in terraces one above another, faced by walls about three feet in height. On the margins of the cultivation, stimulated by the moisture derived from the irrigation, there was a very abundant growth of shrubs, and of luxuriant herbaceous plants. The gooseberry, Hippopha?, and rose, were the shrubs, and several large Umbellifer?, one of which was closely allied to the Assaf?tida, a tall Thalictrum, a yellow-flowered Medicago, Verbascum Thapsus, two species of thistle, the common henbane, dock, mint, Plantago, and various species of Artemisia, were the most common herbaceous plants.

HANGO VALLEY.

August, 1847.

On the 24th of August we proceeded to Lio, a village on the right or west bank of the Piti river. The road crosses the small stream which runs past Hango, a little below the village, and gradually ascends the slope of the hill on its left bank. Close to the stream there is a bank of clayey alluvium, with stones, and traces of it may be seen at intervals for some distance down the valley, but it is nowhere of any great thickness. The hill along which the road lay was composed of a cherty sandstone of a light-blue colour, often nearly white; in fragments, and especially when pulverized, it was quite so; and being extremely brittle, the slopes were covered with fine white dust, the glare of which, in the bright sunshine, was very unpleasant. On this gravelly ascent the vegetation was equally scanty, and much the same in character as at moderate elevations on the two previous days; a large thistle, species of Artemisia, Chenopodiace?, and a spinous Astragalus, being the most abundant plants.

The road continued to ascend gently for about half a mile, rapidly increasing its height above the stream, which had a considerable slope. The next two miles were tolerably level, over a good but stony road, at an elevation a little under 12,000 feet. A species of Crambe, with a long fusiform root, smelling somewhat like a turnip, was common along this part of the road. The young leaves of this plant are used by the Tibetans as a pot-herb, and are said to be well-flavoured. A species of currant (R. glandulosum), with viscid, glandular, very aromatic-smelling leaves, was also met with; its fruit, now ripe, had a sweetish taste, but no flavour. It is a common Tibetan species, extending on the Indus as low down as 6500 feet.

THE PITI RIVER.

August, 1847.

An abrupt descent followed, of not less than seven or eight hundred feet, into a wide steeply-sloping valley, descending from the north to join that of Hango. On the surface of this hollow, the road passed among a multitude of large angular boulders of limestone, irregularly scattered over the surface. This limestone was much like that of the Hangarang pass, and as it nowhere occurred in situ on the road, the boulders must have come from the hills on the upper part of the lateral ravine. A small spring of water and a solitary willow marked the centre of the valley, beyond which the road again ascended slightly, till on rounding a corner, the Piti river came into view, at the bottom of a most remarkable rocky ravine. Full in front, just beyond the river, was a scarped rock of great height; it was of a dark grey colour, and was traversed in every direction by immense white veins. Round this precipice, which seemed to project beyond the general mass, the river swept in a deep curve, of which the convexity was towards me.

The mountains on the right bank of the river, which formed the termination of the range on which I stood, seemed not less steep than those opposite, for the road, instead of passing round them without change of level, rose rapidly as it turned to the left, till it had attained an elevation of at least 12,000 feet, at which height it wound among precipitous rocks of hard dark slate, covered with bushes of Ephedra, and scattered trees of Juniperus excelsa. When fairly round the rocky projecting range, the village of Lio was discovered more than 2000 feet below, in a narrow ravine, on the bank of a small stream descending from the north-west, and close to its junction with the Piti river. The descent was very abrupt, in a rocky ravine among large boulders, partly of slate, partly of granite. This rock occurred in thick veins in the clay-slate, most abundantly on the lower part of the precipices which rose on the left hand during the descent.

LIO.

August, 1847.

Lio, at an elevation of 9600 feet above the sea, is a considerable village, with a large tract of cultivation, disposed in terraces from three to six feet above one another. The crops of wheat and barley had been all cut, but there were many fields of buckwheat in full flower, and of millet (Panicum miliaceum) still quite green. Numerous apricot-trees, from which the fruit had long been gathered, were interspersed among the cultivated lands. Surrounded on all sides by very precipitous mountains, which reflect the sun's rays, Lio appears to enjoy a great amount of heat, and the weeds which bordered the corn-fields were rank and abundant, and included many species which had not been seen at the higher villages. Salvia glutinosa, almost the only remaining Simla plant, burdock, sow-thistle, lucerne, and melilot, were the commonest weeds. A little Cuscuta was common on these latter. No tree of any kind occurred in the valley, nor on the slopes on either side. Elevation could not be the cause of this, the height being much lower than the line of upper limit of tree vegetation in the outer Himalaya, and the temperature of the valley, as was evident from the kinds of grain cultivated, very much greater than it would have been at the same level, in the more rainy climates nearer the plains of India.

The ravine through which the Lio stream runs is narrow and rocky, and contains a great number of transported blocks of various sizes, scattered irregularly over the surface. Close to the village there is a curious isolated rock, separated by the stream from the mountain mass with which it has evidently once been connected.

CROSS THE PITI RIVER.

August, 1847.

On the 25th of August we crossed the Piti river, a little above Lio, and ascended to the village of Nako, on a very steep ridge, which descended from the great mountain Porgyul. After leaving the cultivated lands of Lio, which extend for half a mile from the upper part of the village, we ascended the right bank of the Piti river for nearly a mile, to a bridge, by which it is crossed. The river ran here in an extremely narrow ravine, precipitous mountains rising on either side. Its banks were steep, and covered with loose shingle, the débris of the precipices above. The stream is of considerable size, but much inferior to the Sutlej where we had last observed it close at hand, though I believe it is nearly as large as that river, at the point of junction of the two. The Piti runs in this part of its course with great rapidity, and is probably of considerable depth.

ASCENT TO NAKO.

August, 1847.

The bridge was situated at a bend of the river, where the rocky banks contract more than usual. It was similar in structure to that over the Sutlej at Wangtu, but much smaller, and in so dilapidated a state, that it could scarcely be expected to last another year. The ascent to Nako was throughout steep, the difference of elevation being about 2500 feet, and the distance not more than two miles and a half. When at a sufficient height above the narrow dell in which the Piti runs, a good view was obtained of the mountains by which we were surrounded, which rose on all sides in rugged precipices. The steepness of the cliffs allowed their geological structure to be well seen. The fundamental rock, wherever I saw it, appeared to be clay-slate, sometimes passing into chert or quartzy sandstone. This basal rock was everywhere traversed by innumerable veins of quartz and granite, which exhibited no signs of parallelism, but ramified in every direction. These veins were often of great thickness. Not unfrequently, indeed, the mass of granite much exceeded the slaty beds between which it was interposed; but its connection with other veins of more moderate size rendered it evident that it had been injected into the slate.

Behind the village of Lio a thick deposit of alluvial clay was discernible, which seemed to suggest the idea of the valley having formerly been a lake; and at no place where I had seen these clayey accumulations was this hypothesis so plausible, for the precipices south of the junction of the Lio stream, rose almost perpendicularly for more than 1000 feet above the Piti river, and approached so close to one another, that their disruption was at least a possible contingency.

The slopes, as we ascended, were covered with boulders of granite in countless profusion, and the vegetation was extremely scanty, Ephedra being the most abundant plant observed. On the upper part of the ascent the road crossed a little streamlet, which was conducted in an artificial channel to irrigate a few fields of wheat. The margins of this little stream, and a belt a few feet in width on both sides, where the ground was swampy, were covered with a dense thicket of Hippopha? and rose-bushes, among which grew thickly and luxuriantly a scandent Clematis, and Rubia cordifolia, mint, dock, and thistles. The number of species altogether was scarcely more than a dozen, but the brilliant green formed so delightful a contrast with the prevailing monotony, that what in a more fertile country would have been passed as a mere thicket of thorns, to my eyes appeared a most beautiful grove of graceful shrubs; and I lingered in the swampy ground, till I had traversed it repeatedly in every direction, and completely exhausted the flora.

NAKO.

August, 1847.

Nako is a smaller village than Lio, and from its elevation (12,000 feet) has no fruit-trees; but at the base of the cultivation, which is extensive, there was a copse of willows and poplars. The predominant crop was barley, now quite ripe, and being cut; the species was the common one, not H. ?giceras, but the ears were very short, and the return must, I should think, have been very small. There was abundance of water, which ran in every direction through the fields. The little streamlets had a narrow belt of green on their margins, consisting of small grasses, several gentians, and Potentill?, one of which I could not distinguish from P. anserina, a Polygonum very like P. viviparum, and, most remarkable of all, a small orchideous plant, which seemed to be a species of Herminium.

BUDDHIST TEMPLES.

August, 1847.

At Nako, we had a most satisfactory proof of the little estimation in which the lamas, or priests of the Buddhist religion, hold their religious buildings, the apartments furnished to us in the village being the different parts of the temple, surrounded with full-sized figures of the different incarnations of Buddha, in sitting posture, each with his hands in the position which is conventionally used to indicate the individual. The remarkable forms and system of the Buddhist religion, as practised in Kunawar and Ladak, have been so often and accurately described, that it would be useless for me to attempt to give any account of what I could, from want of previous knowledge, very imperfectly understand, and from my other occupations scarcely at all inquire into. The gradual transition, in ascending the Sutlej, from Hinduism to Buddhism, is very remarkable, and not the less so because it is accompanied by an equally gradual change in the physical aspect of the inhabitants, the Hindus of the lower Sutlej appearing to pass by insensible gradations as we advance from village to village, till at last we arrive at a pure Tartar population. The people of upper Piti have quite the Tartar physiognomy, the small stature and stout build of the inhabitants of Ladak, to whom also they closely approximate in dress. To what extent mere climatic influences may cause these differences, and how far they depend on an intermixture of races, I do not pretend to decide. It is impossible, however, to avoid being struck by the coincidence between these physical and moral changes in the human race, and the gradual alteration in the forms of the vegetable world, which are observable as we advance from a wet to a dry climate.

PORGYUL

August, 1847.

From Nako we proceeded, on the 26th of August, nearly due north, to Chango, about ten miles up the Piti valley. Nako is situated on the shoulder of the great mountain Porgyul, which rises to a height of 10,000 feet above that village, and Chango is at the very extremity of a long spur given off by that mountain further east: it is therefore separated from the Nako spur by a valley of considerable size, which descends abruptly towards the Piti river. Our road lay in a long sweep round the deep bay formed by this valley, at an elevation not lower than that of Nako, crossing in the most receding part a foaming torrent which descends from the perpetual snows of the mountain behind. Half a mile from Nako, and scarcely lower than that place, is a patch of cultivation, watered, as I was surprised to find, by a conduit brought more than a mile along the side of the hill from the stream which occupies the mid-valley; the water of which was collected into several ponds, one above another, in which it was kept in reserve till required for irrigation. The crops cultivated were buckwheat and a species of Brassica, both in flower. A number of poplars and willows were planted along the stream, but no fruit-trees.

ANGULAR BOULDERS.

August, 1847.

Beyond this cultivated tract, the road, till we reached Chango, was entirely barren. For several miles we continued to pass through a most extraordinary accumulation of transported blocks, scattered irregularly on the gently sloping sides of the mountains. They covered a very large area, and occurred in such almost incredible profusion, that the road seemed to lie in a hollow among fragments of rock on all sides. They were all angular; and at so considerable an elevation as 12,000 feet, I have now no hesitation in referring them to glacier action. The rock in situ was clay-slate, with copious granite veins, and the boulders were in general the same. In one place, however, a dark mica-slate, with large crystals of cyanite, was the predominating rock of the erratic blocks, which no doubt might have been traced to its source in the ravine above, as I nowhere saw it in situ during the day.

After passing the torrent which occupies the centre of the valley, the road very gradually approaches the Piti river, from which it had at first receded considerably. We could now observe that the mountains which overhung the river in this part of its course were much less precipitous, and the valley wider and more open, than around Lio. Alluvial beds of great thickness everywhere rested on the ancient rocks, assuming the most diversified forms, but in general thicker and higher on the sides of the hills, at some distance from the river, than in the centre of the valley. About a mile and a half from Chango, the road began to descend rather rapidly along a dry water-course filled with huge boulders. It then crossed a stream, which had cut for itself a very deep channel through the alluvial conglomerate, and ascended slightly to the village of Chango. Close to the last stream was a bed of very fine clay, which had a thickness of at least twenty-five feet, and did not appear to contain any stones, pebbles, or fragments of rock. This clay had quite a different appearance from the alluvial conglomerate, which covered it, without appearing to pass into it. It occurred extensively in several places in the neighbourhood of Chango, and had entirely the appearance of having been deposited in a very tranquil lake, while the alluvium which rested upon it, and, therefore, was of more recent formation, contained so many fragments of rock, all seemingly angular, that its origin could scarcely be assigned to deposition under water, unless under some very peculiar circumstances.

CHANGO.

August, 1847.

Chango is situated in the middle of an open, nearly level tract of considerable size, which slopes very gently towards the Piti river. The cultivation is extensive, water being more than usually abundant, so that much of the ground is swampy from its waste, and covered with tufts of a small Iris and a species of Equisetum. The barley had been all cut, as well as the beans, which are here grown to some extent. Buckwheat and rape-seed (a species of Brassica) were still in flower, and the millet quite green. Apricot-trees were still common, though the elevation of Chango is about 10,500 feet. The village lies nearly opposite to Shialkar, but separated from it by the Piti river, which, at the bridge of that place, is elevated exactly 10,000 feet above the level of the sea.

ZUNGSAM RIVER.

August, 1847.

A little way above Shialkar and Chango, two very considerable rivers unite to form the Piti river. The larger of these, descending from the north-west, is known by the same name. The other, which flows from the north-east, may be called the Parang river, by which name it is known in the upper part of its course; lower down, it seems to be usually called Zungsam. The direct road from Hangarang to the Indus lies up this river, which unfortunately flows for several days' journey through districts which are included within the Chinese frontier. It was our wish to proceed by the most expeditious route, and at the same time that nearest the line of boundary, to Hanle. It was, therefore, our object to effect, if possible, a passage up the Zungsam river, though, as we knew that Captain Gerard and M. Jacquemont had both been stopped upon the frontier, we had no reason to anticipate any more favourable result.

We therefore took, on leaving Chango, a north-easterly direction, proceeding, on the 27th of August, to a village on the left bank of the Parang or Zungsam river, called Changar, the same place which, by Gerard and Jacquemont, is named Changrezing. Leaving the cultivated lands of Chango, and crossing the stream which skirts the plain, we immediately commenced a steep zigzag ascent over a barren shingly road, to the heights which overhang the village to the north-east. After a very fatiguing climb of not less than 1300 feet, we attained the summit of the ridge, and advanced along it for some distance without much change of level, but still gradually ascending among low-topped gravelly hills. A very steep ascent followed to the summit of the pass, which was called Changrang La[8], and could not be much under 13,000 feet. The whole ascent was extremely barren, the arid slopes producing a minimum of vegetation. A fleshy Cruciferous plant, with a strong pungent taste not unlike horse-radish (Christolea of Decaisne in Jacquemont), a fine Nepeta (N. floccosa, Benth.), and a little Stipa, were the only novelties; and these, with the Ephedra, a little Lactuca, an aromatic species of Chenopodium (C. Botrys), the Tibetan Euphorbia, and a shrubby white-flowered spinous Astragalus, were almost all the plants observed.

CHANGAR.

August, 1847.

From the summit of the pass, the road descended abruptly into a deep ravine, which originated in a snowy mountain to the south. At the bottom of this ravine, between rocky precipitous banks, ran a considerable torrent, which was crossed by a very frail wooden bridge. Immediately after crossing, the road began to ascend rapidly, rising to an elevation only a few hundred feet lower than the pass from which we had descended, after which, half a mile of nearly level road brought us to our camp at Changar, a small village on a stony hill, of which only one house seemed habitable. A few fields of barley, not yet ripe, separated our tents from the village; these were irrigated by a small streamlet, whose source was a spring on the rocky hill-side a few hundred yards off, shaded by a few rose-bushes and a small clump of juniper-trees.

We remained one day stationary at Changar, to complete some arrangements which were required previous to our leaving the district of Hangarang; and on the 29th we proceeded to ascend the valley of the Zungsam river, intending, if no obstacles were offered, to follow its course and the regular road to Hanle; but in case of obstruction, which there was every reason to apprehend, to adopt the plan which had been already followed both by Gerard and Jacquemont, of crossing the river, encamping on its north bank, and proceeding in a westerly direction along the course of the Piti river to the Parang pass, in which direction we could effect a passage to Hanle without the necessity of entering on the territories under Chinese control.

BLACK CURRANT.

August, 1847.

Our road, for about three miles, was undulating, with rather a tendency to descend, but without any abrupt change of level. It lay along the gently sloping side of the ridge, and crossed a good many little ravines. To the right was the crest of the ridge; to the left, the valley of the Zungsam river, which was nearly 2000 feet below, the slope being very precipitous. In many of the ravines, where there was a stream of water, there was a dense jungle of shrubs, which contrasted strongly with the barrenness of the hills. A willow, rose, Lonicera, a shrubby Astragalus, an Artemisia, a Potentilla of large size, and a black currant, closely resembling that of our gardens, were the principal shrubs; and the herbaceous vegetation was the same as in similar places since entering the Tibetan region. The currant, which occurred here for the first time, was quite a new species: its ripe fruit was quite black, and had the size and flavour of the common black currant, with, however, a considerable degree of acidity.

About three miles from Changar, an abrupt descent led from the platform on which we had been travelling, to the level of the banks of the river, more than 1000 feet lower. The path by which we descended was steep, rocky, and difficult. The rock was still clay-slate, with granite veins. The granite in general very much exceeded in quantity the rock into which it had been injected, as was well seen on several precipitous cliffs along the course of the stream, in which the stratification of the slaty rock and the ramifications of the granite could be examined in detail. The banks of the river were adorned with a species of Myricaria, a small tree, with very delicate graceful foliage and beautiful rose-coloured flowers.

CHINESE FRONTIER.

August, 1847.

On reaching the small streamlet which forms the frontier of the Chinese dominions, we found, as indeed we expected, that there was no intention of permitting us to proceed by the direct road to Hanle; and all arguments to induce a compliance with our wish proving ineffectual, we agreed to take the route up the Piti river by Dankar, and were then permitted to proceed about a mile, to the village of Kyuri, where we encamped for the day. I have now no doubt that if we had resolutely advanced, no serious opposition to our progress would have been made; but our instructions were so precise that we should not have been justified in using the smallest degree of force, or incurring any risk of a collision.

To reach Kyuri[9], we crossed the Zungsam river by a very remarkable natural bridge, composed of an enormous block of granite, which has in some way been placed across the stream, at a spot where it is much contracted in width, flowing in a deep rocky fissure from fifteen to twenty-five feet in width, evidently of great depth. At this point a considerable number of boulders of large size are piled on both banks, of which the one that spans the channel is eighty-five feet in length and probably not less than forty in width and twenty in depth; it is placed obliquely across the stream, its left or southern extremity being lower, and inclined at so considerable an angle that the passage is one of some difficulty for horses and loaded cattle, though for men, with ordinary care, it is quite easy. The higher end is so much elevated above the surface on which it rests, that a rudely constructed stair of stones is necessary to enable travellers to descend.

KYURI.

August, 1847.

Our encamping ground at Kyuri was on a gently sloping barren plain, seven or eight hundred feet above the valley of the Zungsam, and was reached by a short steep ascent from the bridge. There was no cultivation; but about a mile to the east, a long sloping tract of alluvium interposed between the mountains and the river was covered with green fields, though it had only two houses and not a single tree. Alluvium abounded in every direction, forming steep sloping banks, often much worn away by running water, and occasionally from two to three hundred feet in thickness. The plain on which we were encamped was also of recent origin; it consisted of a fine clay, curiously worn into cliffs and narrow ridges. A few layers of fine sand were included in the clay, and by a careful search I found three or four small fresh-water shells in the clay, belonging to at least two species-one a Lymn?a, the other a Planorbis. The shells were, however, very scarce, and all found near one spot, nor did any other portion of the deposit seem fossiliferous. The clay was in front of and below our encampment, and was covered by coarse alluvial conglomerate.

THE ROAD REJOINS THE PITI VALLEY.

August, 1847.

The road up the valley of the Parang river being tabooed to us by the jealousy of the Chinese Government, it became necessary to make a very considerable détour, no practicable road being known in the mountains north of Piti, between that which we were thus prevented from following, and the Parang pass, to reach which we had to make five or six marches up the Piti river before turning to the north. On leaving Kyuri, on the 30th of August, we ascended gently on a bare gravelly hill for several hundred feet, and then proceeded for two miles to the westward, along the steep side of the mountain. The road was rocky and very barren, the caper and an Astragalus being almost the only plants seen. We then descended rapidly, so as to reach the bank of the Piti river, at the place where it makes its great bend and assumes a southerly direction. Here it is joined by the Giu (Gumdo of Jacquemont), a considerable stream, which has its source in the lofty and inaccessible range to the north. This torrent had excavated a deep channel in the alluvial beds, which were composed of alternations of coarse incoherent conglomerate and fine clay. In this ravine, which sheltered them from the bleak winds of the more exposed slopes, I found a luxuriant growth of shrubs; of which the commonest forms were the rose, ash, Colutea, Rhamnus, Myricaria, Capparis, Ephedra, and Artemisi?. As soon as the stream was passed, a steep ascent commenced, but the luxuriant vegetation at once disappeared, and the road was as barren, dusty, and stony as usual. We ascended only to descend again, and encamped on a small level spot forty or fifty feet above the Piti river, destitute of cultivation or inhabitants, but known to the people of the district by the name of Huling.

On our next day's journey, the country at first presented the same general character. The mountains along the road were lofty and rugged, and sloped steeply to the river. A mass of alluvial deposit generally rested on their bases, and the road lay at no great distance above the river, rising a few hundred feet to pass over the spurs, and again descending on their western sides. The steep slopes were in several places covered with an incrustation of hard angular breccia, with a calcareous matrix, the origin of which I conceive to have been the same as that of the breccia noticed in the vicinity of Sungnam. Across the river there was a considerable tract of level ground, covered with cultivation surrounding a small village, with a few poplar and willow trees; but the left bank, on which we travelled, was entirely barren. Nearly opposite this village, the bank of the river becoming steep and precipitous, we ascended about a thousand feet, and continued at that elevation till the difficulty was passed, after which we returned to the river-side. At this elevation two or three springs broke out on the steep face of the hill, and, trickling down among the rocks below, promoted the growth of a few willows and rose-bushes, and a small thicket of Hippopha?. Round the springs the ground was covered with a slight saline exudation.

LARI.

August, 1847.

The village of Lari, at which we encamped, is elevated 11,200 feet. It occupies a large extent of alluvial surface, sloping at a very small angle from the base of the mountains to the river, at a place where a stream issued from among the mountains. The cultivated lands are extensive, but very bare of trees when compared with the villages in Kunawar, or even in Hangarang. One apricot-tree only could be seen in the village lands, but there were still a few willows and poplars. The flora of the cultivated tracts had not altered. The little Iris, first seen at Chango, was very common, and the gentians, Potentill?, Astragali, and other small plants, were the same as had been common since crossing the Hangarang pass; the season, however, was so far advanced, that much of the luxuriant vegetation had withered away. The crops of wheat and barley were quite ripe, and had been partly cut; but a few fields of millet were still green.

MOUNTAINS OF PITI.

August, 1847.

In the neighbourhood of Lari, the Piti valley is considerably more open than lower down. It had, indeed, been gradually expanding since we joined it at Lio. The mountains now recede considerably from the river, a long sloping surface of alluvium being interposed, which is at one time largely developed on the north side of the river, in which case the southern spur generally projects. A little further on, the northern mountains send down a projecting spur, and an open tract is seen to the south. The mountains behind the alluvial platforms rise very abruptly, and present towards the plain, steep, almost perpendicular slopes, which, from the peculiar nature of the rock, a very fragile slate, are covered by a steeply-sloping mass of débris almost to the top. This talus, indeed, on some of the cliffs behind Lari, seems to rise to the very summit of the ridges.

It is not easy to convey an idea in words of the mode in which these mountains are arranged, unless it is recollected that it is an universal rule that all mountains are ramifications of an axis, giving off branches on both sides, and that each branch is again divided in a similar manner, till the ultimate divisions are arrived at. All mountainous districts are in this respect similar to one another, and differ principally in the proportion borne by the altitude to the superficial extent of the ranges of which they are composed. An examination of the map will show that the axis of the range which lies north of the Piti valley, passes through the Parang pass, and in fact occupies the midway between the Piti and Parang rivers, terminating in the great bend of the latter, to the east of its junction with the Piti. The whole of this range is of great altitude, and it seems to rise in elevation to the eastward, no passage being known further east than the Parang pass. The primary branches of this chain, descending towards the Piti valley, are separated by considerable tributaries which discharge themselves into that river. In general, these lateral streams have, in the lower part of their course, very rugged rocky channels, but they rise rapidly, and, at a distance of a few miles from the main river, their ravines expand into open valleys, three or four thousand feet above its level. The ramifications of the primary branches are, as might be expected, in their upper part concealed among the mountains, but those near their termination abut upon the main valley, in a series of ridges separated by little streamlets. We have, therefore, as we ascend the Piti river, not a wall of mountain, parallel to its course, but a succession of ridges, more or less perpendicular to it, all descending from a great elevation, and rapidly diminishing in height. The result is necessarily a great degree of irregularity, the width of the alluvial belt varying much, while the direction of the ridges, and of the cliffs by which they are bounded, is constantly changing.

ALLUVIAL PLATFORMS.

September, 1847.

Leaving Lari on the 1st of September, we continued our journey up the Piti valley. The road lay partly on the platforms of alluvial conglomerate, and partly over the steep shingly talus which rested on the hills where they were not separated by alluvium from the river. One alluvial plain, about two miles from Lari, was well cultivated with the usual crops, the barley being quite ripe, the wheat very nearly so, the oil-seed and buckwheat out of flower, and the millet, of which there were only a few fields, still green. The platforms of alluvium have, in general, an irregularly triangular form, the base resting on the river, the apex at the termination of a mountain ravine, down which a stream runs. This stream, instead of bisecting the platform, usually runs in a hollow channel on one side or other between the mountains and the alluvium, and is, where practicable, carried off in small artificial conduits for the purposes of irrigation. The platforms always slope gently from their apex to the river, and they are generally cut off in a cliff at the lower end. These cliffs always show marks of stratification, sensibly parallel to the river, and the pebbles which the alluvium contains, are (and have been for the last two days) usually rounded.

I ought not to omit to mention, that I use the word alluvium merely as a convenient mode of expression, without meaning to convey an idea of the mode in which these beds originate. No equally suitable word suggests itself, and the phenomena occur so frequently, that it is necessary to have some short expression by which to describe them. The origin of these alluvia is certainly very puzzling. At first sight, in any particular spot, the most natural suggestion is, that they have been deposited under water, and probably therefore in a lake. Their occurrence day after day, notwithstanding the greatest changes of altitude, their enormous thickness in many places, and the peculiar position in which they occur, soon dispel this idea, and throw the observer into a maze of doubt and difficulty, at last leading him to the conclusion, that no one cause is sufficient to explain the highly variable phenomena which he observes, and that a lengthened series of patient observations will be necessary before the subject can be understood. These observations have yet to be supplied, but I believe I shall best serve future observers, by detailing as fully as possible the points which attracted my attention, without attempting for the present to speculate upon the causes of the phenomena. The suggestions which I have to offer to the reader, will be best understood when I have detailed all the facts upon which they are founded.

It is especially necessary to distinguish between three forms of alluvium, all of which have already occurred in Piti. These are, first, the fine clay; secondly, the platforms, such as I have described in the last paragraph; and thirdly, the enormous masses, which are without any definite limits, and do not seem referable to any present valley system.

POK.

September, 1847.

We encamped at Pok, a large village nearly nine miles from Lari. Here we found again an extensive alluvial platform, covered with much cultivation; and on the mountain ravine above the village there was a considerable grove of young juniper-trees. A week or two before, I should have considered them as scattered trees; now they had quite the appearance of a forest, so bare had the country been since crossing Hangarang.

West of Pok, our journey of the 2nd of September was over the alluvial platform, which continued for two miles beyond the cultivation of the village, gradually contracting in width by the encroachment of successive spurs, which at last advanced close to the river. The road now ascended by a short steep path on the mountain-side, to a higher level. At the base of this ascent there were a great many angular masses of limestone, evidently transported from the valleys behind. These fragments were very numerous, and many of them of great size. They continued abundant during a great part of the day, but no limestone was seen in situ. I have not preserved any record of the exact position of these angular fragments with regard to the valleys behind, but I have little doubt that they will be found to be of glacial origin, such being certainly the case in many other similar instances. The limestone was very compact, of a blue or grey colour, and many of the fragments were almost full of coralline remains. I collected many fossiliferous specimens, which were afterwards despatched from Hanle to Simla by a messenger, on whom we thought we could rely, but they never reached their destination[10].

DANKAR.

September, 1847.

We encamped at Dankar, after travelling ten miles. This place is the principal village of the Piti valley, and is 13,000 feet above the level of the sea. The valley of the Piti is here very wide, and divided into numerous channels, which are separated by low gravelly islands, the whole width of the river being not less than half a mile. Here the alluvium is very highly developed, lying in patches on the face of the steep hills. The village of Dankar, though 1000 feet above the river, occupies both sides of a steep ridge entirely composed of alluvium. Nor is this its utmost limit; for several hundred feet above the houses, similar alluvial masses occur. These beds are not, however, continuous from these great elevations, down to the level of the river: they rest, on the contrary, on the ancient rocks, which are here very steep, and the clay may be seen in isolated projecting masses, capping the most prominent ridges[11].

RANGRIG.

September, 1847.

The village of Dankar is built on arid barren soil, but the cultivated lands stretch from about the level of the village almost to the river, on a very steep slope. Thickets of Hippopha? were scattered among the cultivation, where the ground was swampy; and notwithstanding the great altitude, the exposure being favourable, the crops seemed good, and the wild plants were more luxuriant than usual. One of the new species observed was a pretty gentian (G. Moorcroftiana, Wall.), interesting as having been one of the few plants sent from the Tibetan country by the unfortunate traveller whose name it bears. It is also a common species in the valley of Dras, in which, perhaps, Mr. Moorcroft's specimens were collected, unless, indeed, they were obtained in Piti by Mr. Trebeck, during his journey to that valley from Ladak.

Leaving Dankar on the morning of the 3rd of September, we ascended the heights behind the village to the side of the main ridge behind, along which we proceeded without change of level. The mountain was almost precipitous, and extremely barren, but commanded a fine view of the open flat plain of the Piti river, descending from the north-west; and of the course of the Pin, a large tributary which descends from the south-west, at the source of which there is a pass, by which it is possible to descend upon the Sutlej at Wangtu. The mountain range interposed between the Sutlej and Piti valleys was, from the elevation at which we now stood, seen to great advantage. These mountains are, indeed, in the terse words of Jacquemont, "d'une affreuse stérilité;" yet, in their varied outline, massive forms, and snow-sprinkled summits, there is no doubt a degree of grandeur, which produces a powerful impression.

At about a mile and a half from Dankar, during which we had, with the ridge, gradually approached the river, the road began to descend, and we at last reached the bank of the river, close to which, and sometimes even on its gravelly bed, we continued for several miles. Where the banks were lowest, and the gravel was moist, there were thickets of low shrubs, Hippopha?, Myricaria, Ribes, and willow; elsewhere, the gravel was barren and unproductive. We encamped at Lara, a village nine miles from Dankar, at which there were only two poplar trees, and a very small extent of arable ground. The wheat was ripe and very luxuriant, the ears being large and well filled.

On the 4th of September, we continued our progress up the Piti valley, which had quite the same aspect as on the day before, encamping on the left bank of the river, opposite to the village of Rangrig, on a desert spot among limestone rocks, at an elevation of 12,300 feet. Here we had attained our furthest limit in a north-westerly direction, our road now turning to the right, and ascending a considerable valley towards the Parang pass, in a direction which promised much novelty and interest, as it had only been traversed by one traveller, the unfortunate Trebeck, who, in the year 1822, travelled from Le to Dankar by this route. The further course of the Piti river, which, as we learn from Moorcroft's travels, was visited in 1822 by Captain Mercer, was afterwards surveyed by Captain Broome. It communicates with Lahul, which is the upper part of the valley of the Chandrabhaga or Chenab river, by the Kulzum pass, a depression in that great branch of the trans-Sutlej Himalaya, by which the waters of the Sutlej and its tributaries on the east, are separated from those of the Chenab and Beas.

During our journey through the district of Piti, the weather had been almost uniformly dry and serene, though we were now in the very height of the Indian rainy season. The only exception occurred while we were encamped at Changar, on the lower part of the Parang river, about the 29th of August, when the sky was for two days very cloudy, and on one night it rained gently for nearly half an hour. The clouds were, however, high, and never dense, and the unsettled state of the atmosphere was of very short continuance. While it lasted, it was accompanied by violent wind, very irregular in direction.

SALINE INCRUSTATIONS.

September, 1847.

In every part of Piti we found the margins of springs, and the grassy turf which grew on low swampy spots along the river, covered with a saline incrustation, in the form of a dry efflorescence, which encrusted the blades of grass. It appeared to be confined to the vicinity of water, the barren rocky tracts being destitute of it. This saline matter, as elsewhere in Tibet, consists of sesquicarbonate of soda, and, as a consequence of the abundance of that alkali, soda-producing plants were common, especially Chenopodiace?, among which the common Salsola Kali was very abundant.

PITI.

September, 1847.

The district of Piti, which was formerly almost independent, but paid tribute to, or exchanged presents with, all the Tibetan countries in its neighbourhood, namely, with Garu, Ladak, and Lahul, as well as with Kunawar, followed in 1846 the fortunes of Lahul in being transferred to British rule. It is a very thinly populated valley, the villages being small and distant, and the arable tracts of no great extent. The mountains on its southern border, by which it is separated from Kunawar, are so very elevated that they entirely intercept all access of humidity from the districts to the northward of them, and render the climate entirely rainless. The houses are in consequence very generally built of unburnt bricks, made of the fine lacustrine clay so common in the valleys, and their flat roofs are thickly covered with a layer of the same material.