w^ 
 
 a\ .on u 
 
 
 
 
 .-^^^ 
 
 /J<^ 
 
 
 .^' 
 
 V •• " ' /. -^ 
 
 N "Jl 
 
 
 
 
 > 7 ■> 
 
 ^' 
 
 * o\ 
 
 
 .iiV <p 
 
 ^^, 
 
 
 -; -^ 
 
 .•-^ 
 
 .^^ c 
 
 -^^■^' 
 
 'o » / 
 
 
 x^'"^- 
 
 
 S^"^. 
 
 
 '?^," 
 
 -/ 
 
 <f>^ .-^^ 
 
 ^^y- V' 
 

 
 
 if V 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 <■ ,0' 
 
 
Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive 
 in 2010 witin funding from 
 Tine Library of Congress 
 
 http://www.arcliive.org/details/abodeofsnowOOwils 
 
NOTE OF THE AMERICAN PUBLISHERS. 
 
 In presenting to the American public this edition 
 of Mr. Wilson's "Abode of Snow," the Publishers 
 deem it due to the author to explain that it has been 
 reprinted from the original articles as first issued in 
 " Blackwood's Magazine," and that it will be found to 
 differ in some few points from the volume published 
 in Edinburgh. Through a misunderstanding on their 
 part as to the plan of Messrs. Blackwood for the is- 
 suing of their edition, and the failure to reach them 
 of the full information concerning this, they had not 
 been made aware that any changes in his Magazine 
 material had been contemplated by the author, and 
 when word concerning these finally reached them, 
 their edition was already stereotyped and ready for 
 the printer. 
 
 They have added to this the author's preface, and 
 the Map and vignette title from the Edinburgh vol- 
 ume, and they plan to incorporate in future editions, 
 as far as practicable, such additions to his Magazine 
 papers as the author has found desirable. The articles 
 in the Magazine give, however, not only the complete 
 narrative, but a narrative which, carefully revised up to 
 the standard of " Maga," and certainly evincing no 
 want of literary finish, forms a work of permanent 
 value, possessing an exceptional freshness and novelty, 
 and one that will without ^question meet with the 
 hearty appreciation of many American readers. 
 
 New York, Sept., 1875. 
 
THE 
 
 Abode o^ Snow 
 
 Observations on a Tour from Chinese Tibet to 
 
 THE Indian Caucasus, through the 
 
 Upper Valleys of the 
 
 Himalaya 
 
 ANDREW WILSON 
 
 (reprinted from "Blackwood's magazine.") 
 
 ^f'^N, 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 4TH Ave. & 23D St. 
 
 1875 
 
IIS48S 
 
 8 7^ 
 
 ly Trawfei 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. 
 
 In the twenty-ninth chapter of this work, I have 
 fully explained how the phrase " Abode of Snow " is 
 a literal translation of the Sanscrit compound " Hima- 
 laya," and therefore forms an appropriate title for a 
 work treating of those giant mountains. The Abode 
 of Sno'wpar excellence is not in the Himalaya, or even 
 in the Arctic region, but (setting Saturn aside) in the 
 Antarctic region. Owing to the greater preponde- 
 rance of ocean in the southern hemisphere, the great- 
 est accumulation of ice is round the South Pole ; and 
 hence the not improbable theory that, when the ac- 
 cumulation has reached a certain point, the balance 
 of the earth must be suddenly destroyed, and this orb 
 shall almost instantaneously turn transversely to its 
 axis, moving the great oceans, and so producing one 
 of those cyclical catastrophes which, there is some 
 reason to believe, have before now interfered with 
 the development and the civilisation of the human 
 race. 
 
 How near such a catastrophe may be, and whether, 
 when it occurs, a few just men (and, it is to be hoped, 
 women also) will certainly be left in the upper valleys 
 of the Himalaya, I am unable to say; but it is well to 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 know that there is an elevated and habitable region of 
 the earth which is likely to be left undepopulated even 
 by such an event as that just alluded to. Whether 
 humanity will lose or gain by having to begin again 
 from the simple starting-point of- " Om mani padme 
 haun " {vide Chapter XXXV.) is also a subject on 
 which I feel a little uncertain ; but we may at least 
 hope that the jewel in the lotus will not be lost ; that 
 what has accrued to it from the efforts and the agony 
 of so many thousand years, of so many hundreds of 
 human generations, may pass over to the inhabitants 
 of a newly-formed earth. And when we come to con- 
 sider what the grand valuable results of this our awful 
 striving, our dread history, have been, most of what 
 we are given to boast of will have to be relinquished 
 as worthless, and we may, even as Christians, be glad 
 to take refuge in the comprehensive Lama prayer, " O 
 God, consider the jewel in the lotus. Thy will be 
 done." For, however appalling may have been the 
 amount of human crime and woe, however pitiable our 
 mistakes and ineffectual our struggles, there has ever 
 been a jewel in the rank lotus of human life — some- 
 thing beautiful in it which is not of it, yet is mysteri- 
 ously connected with, and hidden within, it. Viewed 
 in this light the Lama prayer has a touching signifi- 
 cance, and is not without a great lesson for us all. 
 
 But the Himalaya may have many visitors before 
 that other Abode of Snow turns things topsy-turvy, if 
 it ever do so ; and these, I hope, may find my book of 
 some service. It was not for them, however, that this 
 volume was written, but for those who have never 
 seen and may never see the Himalaya. I have sought, 
 in however imperfect a manner, to enable such readers 
 
PREFACE. vii 
 
 in some degree to realise what these great mountains 
 are — what scenes of beauty and grandeur they present 
 — what is the character of the simple people who dwell 
 among them — and what are the incidents the traveller 
 meets with, his means of conveyance, and his mode of 
 life. In attempting this I have had to struggle with 
 what a kindly critic has called " the utterly unknown," 
 and have been compelled, as a necessary part of the 
 enterprise, to make my pages bristle with names and 
 other words which are quite unfamiliar, and indeed for 
 the most part entirely new, to the ordinary English 
 reader — the very individual whose interest I want to 
 engage. It has also been necessary to introduce some 
 details of physical science, ethnology, archaeology, and 
 history ; but these have been subordinated to the gene- 
 ral aim of producing an intelligible idea of the region 
 described. Perhaps I may be excused for suggesting 
 that some little effort on the reader's part is also called 
 for, if indeed my labours are of any value, — which I 
 am by no means sure of. 
 
 If there were any merit at all in my journey it lay 
 only in the condition of body in which I commenced 
 it and carried it through, and in the determination 
 with which, despite serious discouragement, I pursued 
 what appeared to be a desperate remedy. My original 
 intention was only to visit Masuri and Simla, and have 
 a distant view of the Himalaya ; but the first glimpse 
 of the Jumnotri and Gangotri peaks excited longings 
 which there was no need to restrain, and I soon per- 
 ceived that the air of the hill-stations could be of no 
 use to me. So I set off from Simla, determined above 
 all things to keep as high up as I could, and to have a 
 snowy range between me and the Indian monsoon, 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 and then, so far as consonant with that, to visit as 
 many places of interest as possible. It probably 
 would have been better had I been able to take more 
 notes on the way ; but the great fatigue of the jour- 
 ney, and the strain arising from my being alone, were 
 rather too much for me ; and sometimes, for several 
 days at a time, I could do no more than note down 
 the name of the village where we camped, and the 
 temperature at day-break. 
 
 There are many subjects, especially relating to the 
 latter part of my journey, on which I wished to write 
 at length, but found it inexpedient to do so in order 
 not longer to delay the publication of this volume. As 
 it is, I feel deeply indebted for its having been written 
 at all to the encouragement, consideration, and ad- 
 vice of Mr. Blackwood, the Editor of the famous 
 Magazine which bears his name, and in which a great 
 part, but not the whole, of this narrative originally 
 appeared. From the outset he sympathised warmly 
 with my plan, and throughout he never failed to 
 cheer my flagging spirits with generous praise, not to 
 speak of other encouragement. Then he gave me a 
 great deal of admirable advice. There is nothing that 
 is commoner in this world than advice— nothing that 
 is showered down upon one with more liberal profu- 
 sion ; but there is nothing rarer than judicious, useful 
 advice, the first condition of which is sympathetic 
 appreciation of what one would be at ; and it was this 
 invaluable kind of advice which Mr. Blackwood freely 
 tendered, pointing out where the treatment of my 
 Subject required expansion, or aiding me by his 
 knowledge of the world and profoundly appreciative 
 literary taste. I am charmed to find that the lotus of 
 
« 
 
 PREFACE. vs. 
 
 literature contains such a jewel ; and I must say, also, 
 that both the Messrs. Blackwood did me essential, 
 service by the consideration they displayed when I 
 sent in my manuscript at unreasonable times, or al- 
 tered proofs unmercifully at the last moment. Prince 
 Bismarck said to Count Arnim that the business of the 
 Prussian Foreign Office could not be carried on if 
 every Embassy were to conduct itself in the way that 
 of Paris did ; and I am sure the business of Maga 
 could not be carried on at all if all its contributors 
 were to try its patience as I did. 
 
 I was much indebted also to an old friend — a genius 
 loci and yet a man of European celebrity — who at the 
 commencement of the appearance of my articles wrote 
 to me in terms of the warmest encouragement. It may 
 be that the favour with which the original articles ap- 
 pear to have been received may stand in the way of 
 success now that they are reproduced in book-form ; 
 so I may mention that, though long passages have 
 not been added to this reprint, yet very many short 
 ones have ; the interstices, so to speak, have been 
 filled up ; greater accuracy has been attained ; and the 
 whole work has been recast, and that into a form 
 which, I venture to believe, will make it more accept- 
 able to all readers; and I am led to hope that this 
 may be so, among other reasons, by the fact that an 
 American publishing house, G. P. Putman's Sons, 
 New York, has already prepared stereotyped plates 
 of my book, with a view to republication across the 
 Atlantic. 
 
 I feel some regret at not having been able either to 
 repress my outbreaks on the difficult subject of the 
 policy which ought to be pursued in governing India, 
 
X Preface, 
 
 or to enter into the question in a fuller and more 
 satisfactory manner than I have done ; but while that 
 subject la)f beyond the proper scope of this work, it 
 was one which the incidents of my journey naturally 
 led me incidentally to refer to. I shall now only 
 express my profound conviction, that if India were 
 more directly governed with an enlightened view to 
 our own national interests than it is at present, it 
 wouid be far better for the people of India ; that it is 
 the English in India, far more than the Bengal ryot, 
 the educated native, or the Indian Prince, who have 
 reason to complain of the British Raj ; and that, under 
 a superficial appearance of contentment and progress, 
 there are gathering forces, mostly powerless for good, 
 which may at any moment break forth with destruc- 
 tive fury, and are certain to do so whenever the ener- 
 gies of this country are more fully occupied else- 
 where. 
 
 It may be fancied that some of my descriptions of 
 what I encountered among the Himalaya are some- 
 what exaggerated, and especially, I understand, the 
 achievements of the little pony which carried me over 
 the great Shigri glacier. A lady writing to me on 
 this subject remarks: "Had I not known you to be 
 scrupulously .truthful — in fact, fastidiously careful in 
 the use of language, lest it might convey a shade of 
 meaning beyond the thought, opinion, or fact, you 
 wished to express — I might have regarded some of 
 your descriptions as exaggerated ; but I consider accu- 
 racy, both verbal (that is, in the use of words) and in 
 the statement of facts, to be one of your strong points 
 — barring and excepting in the making of promises 
 with respect to letter- writing." So I have carefully 
 
PREFACE. xi 
 
 reconsidered everything which might appear to bear 
 the marks of exaggeration, and, while finding almost 
 nothing to alter on that ground, have thought it best 
 to say nothing about one or two incidents which 
 might really appear incredible. I have only to add 
 on this subject, that the state of Himalayan paths 
 differs somewhat from year to year, according to the 
 amount of labour expended upon them, and the land- 
 slips which occur. 
 
 The map which accompanies this volume has been 
 based on a section of a large school-map of India by 
 the Rev. J. Barton, published under the direction of 
 Committees of the Society for promoting Christian 
 Knowledge and of the National Society. Mr. Trelaw- 
 ney Saunders, the Geographer to the East India Office, 
 has given this school-map his valuable aid in bringing 
 out clearly the various mountain ranges to the north 
 of India ; and I found, after examining many maps, 
 that no other which I could avail myself of would 
 serve so well as the basis of a small map which would 
 present at a glance the relative positions of the Panjab 
 plain, the Western Himalaya, the Hindu Kilsh, and 
 the Karakorum Mountains. It seemed to me of much 
 more importance to convey a general idea of that vast 
 and little-known district of mountainous country than 
 to present a detailed plan of my own route ; for only 
 those who are in, or are about to enter, the districts I 
 traversed, will have any object in following me from 
 stage to stage ; and they can do so much better in 
 Major Montgomerie's route-map and the five mile to 
 the inch sheets of the Trigonometrical Survey, than 
 in any map which it would be advisable for me to 
 prepare. At the same time, I have marked my route 
 
xii PREFACE. 
 
 carefully in the map which I present ; I have added 
 to it a large number of places which I visited, and 
 have altered the spelling in accordance with that of 
 my book. 
 
 That matter of spelling has caused no little trouble. 
 It may not be generally known in this country that 
 some years ago the Indian Government determined 
 that Indian names should be spelt, at least in all 
 official documents and publications, on one system. 
 The system is based on the Jonesian-Wilsonian system 
 of transliteration, as modified by the, oriental societies, 
 and has further been modified for practical purposes 
 by Dr. W. W. Hunter, the head of the Indian Statis- 
 tical Department. It partakes of the nature of a com- 
 promise, for accents are only used when specially 
 necessary, and not as marking intonation, but only as 
 indicating different vowel-sounds ; and in the lists 
 drawn up by Dr. Hunter they are used very sparingly, 
 and are omitted in some cases where they might; have 
 been added with advantage. I have followed these 
 official lists in most instances, and the simple rules to 
 be borne in mind in order to render their system of 
 spelling intelligible are that, — 
 
 1. The long d sounds broadly, as in almond. 
 
 2. The short a without an accent, has usually some- 
 what of a u sound, as the a in rural. 
 
 3. The % with an accent is like ee, or the i in ravine. 
 
 4. The u with an accent is like 00, or the u in bull. 
 
 5. The e has a broad sound, as the a in dare. 
 
 6. The sounds openly, as in note. 
 
 7. The at sounds as in- aisle, or the / in high. 
 
 8. The ail sounds like oit in cloud. 
 
 The most striking peculiarities of this system are 
 
PREFACE. xiii 
 
 the substitution of u for oo, of % for ee, and the expres- 
 sion of broad a by a. It totally ignores the genius of 
 the English language, and may be considered as an- 
 other instance of that subjection of England to India 
 which has been going on of late years. Another 
 objection to it is, that it is not thoroughgoing, and is 
 apt to land the a and the u sounds in hopeless confu- 
 sion ; while a third is, that it is liable to mislead from 
 its employment of accents in a different sense from 
 that which they have, except incidentally, in European 
 languages. But I doubt not these objections have 
 been duly considered by the promoters of the system, 
 and that they have followed the plan which seemed to 
 them best fitted to procure uniformity in the spelling 
 of Indian names, which is an end of so great impor- 
 tance that I have deemed it right to follow the Govern- 
 ment system of spelling, but not as a very advanced 
 or always strictly accurate disciple. I am afraid an 
 accent here and there has got on the wrong letter, and 
 I have sometimes continued the use of double letters; 
 but, in truth, to carry out this system with perfect 
 accuracy one would require not only to have the 
 names before one written in an Indo-Aryan language, 
 but also to be in the habit of dealing with them in 
 such a language. Suffice that I have sacrificed my 
 own comfort, if not also that of my readers, on the 
 Indian Government's linguistic altar. As one of the 
 first to do so in this country, I trust I may be excused 
 if my steps have occasionally tripped. When publish- 
 ing in the Magazine I used the word " Himaliya," but 
 that was only in order to break the usual custom of 
 pronouncing it " Himmalaya," and now. return to 
 what is the more strictly accurate form. 
 
xiv PREFACE. 
 
 One word more, and I have done. Like many other 
 men, I have written hundreds — I may say thousands 
 — of more or less insignificant articles in newspapers 
 and periodicals ; but, like the vast majority of my fel- 
 low-labourers in that department of literature, I have 
 sought to keep back my name rather than to thrust it 
 obtrusively before the public in connection with pro- 
 ductions which, however good or bad of their kind, 
 had no individuality or importance sufficient to war- 
 rant their being connected with any particular author. 
 That is the usual feeling of public writers in this 
 country ; but there is always some one insensible to it. 
 A few months ago one of those candid friends who are 
 the gentian and rhubarb of life, remarked to me : 
 " What a stupid article that is on the CUTTLE-FISH 
 
 which you have in ! I wonder you put your 
 
 name to it." Now the cuttle-fish is a denizen of the 
 ocean with which I am well acquainted, from its 
 toughness as an article of diet, it having been the 
 habit of my Hong-Kong butler to give me a curry of 
 it whenever he was displeased with me, adding, when 
 he saw my frown, the dubious consolation : " Eh ! No 
 likey? I tinkee he makee you likey to-mollow (to- 
 morrow) cully too muchee." But to write articles on 
 the cuttle-fish was, I knew, out of my line; and I 
 was shocked at having my name pointed out to me, 
 printed in full, at the bottom of such an article. At 
 first I cherished the hope that this was the work of 
 some practical humourist ; but found on inquiry, that 
 this alter ego, the cuttle-fish A. W., was a sad reality ; 
 that he had published several articles of the same 
 kind, and had as much title as myself to the name 
 lae byars. I know how vain it is to hope that any 
 
PREFACE. XV 
 
 pushing young Scotchman will consent to preach be- 
 hind a screen if he has any opportunity of doing so in 
 front of it; therefore I address no remonstrance or 
 request to the ichthyologist himself. But, would not 
 some Scotch University — say Aberdeen or Glasgow — 
 have the goodness to make a distinction between us 
 by conferring upon him the degree of D.D., LL.D,, 
 or whatever other high academical distinction his ar- 
 duous researches, into the character of the cuttle-fish 
 may justify? 
 
 London, July, 1875. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 TO THE HEIGHTS . . . • J tf « ft 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES • • « t ■ ^6 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH « 4 « JS 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CHINESE TARTARS ...•••• 131 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 HANGRANG, SPITI, AND TIBETAN POLYANDRY . • • I59 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS — THE ALPS AND HImAlIYA . I95 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ZANSKAR a • • • • ■ t.a 230 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 KASHMIR , » • . .'• « • 278 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SCENES IN KASHMIR ••••«• S'^ 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE AFGHAN BORDER . . . • • • 34° 
 
 k 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 TO THE HEIGHTS. 
 
 I HAVE heard of an American backwoodsman who, on 
 finding some people camping about twenty miles from 
 his log-cabin, rushed back in consternation to his wife 
 and exclaimed, " Pack thee up, Martha — pack thee up ; 
 it's getting altogether too crowded hereabouts." The 
 annoyance which this worthy complained of is very 
 generally felt at present ; and, go almost where he may, 
 the lover of peace and solitude will soon have reason to 
 complain that the country round him is becoming " alto- 
 gether too crowded." As for the enterprising and ex- 
 ploring traveller, who desires to make a reputation for 
 himself by his explorations, his case is even worse. 
 Kafiristan, Chinese Tibet, and the very centre of Africa, 
 indeed remain for him ; but, wherever he may go, he 
 cannot escape the painful conviction that his task will 
 ere long be trodden ground, and that the special corre- 
 spondent, the trained reporter, wnll soon try to obliterate 
 his footsteps. It was not so in older times. The man 
 who went out to see a strange country, if he were for- 
 tunate enough to return to his friends alive, became 
 an authority on that country to the day of his death, 
 
 A 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 and continued so for generations afterwards, if he had 
 only used his wits well. An accurate description of a 
 country usually stood good for a century or two, at 
 least, and for that period there was no one to dispute it ; 
 but the Khiva of 1872 is fundamentally different from 
 the Khiva of 1874; and could we stand to-day where 
 Speke stood sublimely alone a few years ago at Mur- 
 chison Falls, when he was accomplishing the heroic 
 feat of passing (for the first time in authentic history) 
 from Zanzibar to Cairo, through the ground where the 
 Nile unquestionably takes its rise, we should probably 
 see an English steamboat, with Colonel Gordon on 
 board, moving over the waters of Lake Victoria Nyanza. 
 For the change in the relations of one country with 
 another, which has been effected by steam as a means 
 of propulsion, is of a most radical kind ; and it proceeds 
 so rapidly, that by the time the little girls at our knees 
 are grandmothers, and have been fired with that noble 
 ambition to see the world which possesses the old ladies 
 of our own day, it will be only a question of money and 
 choice with them, as to having a cruise upon the lakes 
 of Central Africa, or going to reason with the Grand 
 Lama of Tibet upon the subject of polyandry. Any 
 one walking along the Strand may notice advertise- 
 ments of " Gaze's annual tour to Jerusalem, Damascus, 
 Nineveh, Babylon, the Garden of Eden," &c., &c. No 
 doubt that sort of thing will receive a check occasion- 
 ally ; there has been a refreshing recurrence, within the 
 last two months, of brigandage in Sicily and the Italian 
 peninsula, which may serve to create a vacuum for the 
 meditative traveller ; and if a party of Cook's tourists 
 were to fall into the hands of Persian or Kurdish 
 banditti, the unspeakable consequences would probably 
 put a stop to excursions to the Garden of Pklen for 
 some time to come ; but still the process would go 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 
 
 on, of bringing- together the ends of the earth, and of 
 making the remotest countries familiar ground. 
 
 Such a process, however, will always leave room for 
 books of travel by the i&w who are specially qualified 
 either to understand nature or describe mankind; and 
 there are regions of the world, the natural conformation 
 of which will continue to exclude ordinary travellers, 
 until we have overcome the difficulty of flying through 
 the air. Especially are such regions to be found in the 
 Himaliya — which, according to the Sanscrit, literally 
 means " The Abode of Snow " — and indeed in the whole 
 of that enormous mass of mountains which really 
 stretches across Asia and Europe, from the China Sea 
 to the Atlantic, and to which Arab geographers have 
 given the expressive title of " The Stony Girdle of the 
 Earth." It is to thQ loftiest valleys, and almost the 
 highest peaks of that range that, in this and two or 
 three succeeding chapters, I would conduct my readers 
 from the burning plains of India, in the hope of finding 
 themes of interest, if not many matters of absolute 
 novelty. I have had the privilege of discoursing from 
 and on many mountains — mountains in Switzerland 
 and Beloochistan, China and Japan — and would now 
 speak 
 
 " Of vales more wild and mountains more sublime." 
 
 Often, of late years, when thinking of again writing 
 and describing new scenes, the lines have recurrred 
 to me with painful force, which the dying Magician 
 of the North wrote in pencil by Tweedside — 
 
 *' How shall the wai-ped and broken board 
 Endure to bear the painter's dye? 
 The harp -with strained and tuneless chord, 
 How to the minstrel's skill reply?" 
 
 But the grandest mountains of the world, which have 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 restored something of former strength, may perhaps 
 suggest thoughts of interest, despite the past death- 
 in-hfe of an invalid in the tropics. There is a Hly {F. 
 cordatd) which rarely blossoms in India, unless watered 
 with ice-water, which restores its vigour, and makes it 
 flower. So the Englishman, whose frame withers and 
 strength departs in the golden sunlight but oppressive 
 air of India, finds new vigour and fresh thought and 
 feeling among the snows and glaciers of the Himaliya. 
 If the reader will come with me there, and rest under 
 the lofty deodar-tree, I promise him he will find no 
 enemy but winter and rough weather, and perhaps we 
 may discourse not altogether unprofitably under the 
 shadow of those lofty snowy peaks, which still continue 
 
 "By the flight 
 Of sad mortahty's earth-suUymg wing, 
 Unswept, unstained." 
 
 The change in modern travel has brought the most 
 interesting, and even the wildest, parts of India within 
 easy reach for our countrymen. Bishop Heber mentions 
 in his Journal that he knew of only two Englishmen — 
 Lord Valencia and Mr Hyde — who had visited India 
 from motives of science or curiosity since the country 
 "came into our possession. Even thirty years ago such 
 visits were unknown ; and the present Lord Derby was 
 about the first young Englishman who made our Indian 
 Em.pire a part of the grand tour. Nowadays, old ladies 
 of seventy, who had scarcely ever left Britain before, 
 are to he met with on the spurs of the Himaliya ; and 
 we are conveyed rapidly and easily over vast stretches 
 of burning land, which, a {t.v^ years ago, presented for- 
 midable obstacles to even the most eager traveller. On 
 the great routes over the vast plains of Hindusthan 
 there is no necessity now for riding twenty miles a day 
 from bungalow to bungalow, or rolling tediously in a 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 5 
 
 "palki gharri" over the interminable Grand Trunk Road. 
 Even in a well-cushioned comfortable railway apartment 
 it is somewhat trying to shoot through the blinding sun- 
 light and golden dust of an Indian plain ; and knowing 
 ones are to be seen in such circumstances expending 
 their ice and soda-water upon the towels which they 
 have wrapped round their heads. But we are compelled 
 to have recourse to such measures only in the trying 
 transition periods between the hot and cold seasons ; 
 because, when the heat is at its greatest, artificially- 
 cooled carriages are provided for first-class passengers. 
 Three days from Bombay and twenty pounds convey- 
 ance expenses will land the traveller at Masuri (Mus- 
 sooree),* on the outer range of the Himaliya ; and yet, 
 if he chooses to halt at various places by the way, 
 a single step almost will take him into some of the 
 wildest jungle and mountain scenery of India, 'among 
 
 * The spelling of Indian names is at present in a transition state, though 
 so much has been done to reduce it to one common standard that it is 
 expedient to follow that standard now, which is the official system of spell- 
 ing adopted by the Indian Government, and usually followed by Dr Keith 
 Johnston in his valuable maps. That system partakes of the nature of a 
 compromise, for accents are only used when specially necessary ; and in 
 the lists drawn up by Dr W. W. Hunter they are used very sparingly, and 
 are omitted in some cases where they miglit have been added with advan- 
 tage. I have followed these official lists in almost every instance, except in 
 using the word " Himaliya ; " and the simple rules to be borne in mind in 
 order to render their system of spelling intelligible are that — 
 
 1. The long a sounds broadl)^, as in almond. 
 
 2. The short a without an accent, has usually somewhat of a « sound, 
 as the a in rural. 
 
 3. The / with an accent is like ee, or the i in ravine. 
 
 4. The ?/ with an accent is like 00, or the it in bull. 
 
 5. The e has a broad sound, as the a in dare. 
 
 6. The o sounds openly as in note. 
 
 7. The ai sounds as in aisle,^r the i in high. 
 
 8. The au sounds like ou in cloud. 
 
6 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 the most primitive tribes, and to the haunts of wild ani- 
 mals of the most unamiable kind. Had the Bishop- 
 poet lived now, he might have sung, with much more 
 truth than he did fifty years ago — 
 
 " Thy towers, they say, gleam fair, Bombay, 
 Across the dark-blue sea ;" 
 
 for the schemes of Sir Bartle Frere, energetically car- 
 ried oat by his successor, Sir Seymour Fitzgerald, have 
 given that city the most imposing public buildings to be 
 found in the East — if we except some of the Moham- 
 medan mosques, with the palaces and tombs (for these, 
 too, are public buildings) of the Mogul Emperors — and in 
 other ways, also, have made it worthy of its natural 
 situation, and a splendid gate of entrance to our Indian 
 Empire. But half-Europeanised as the capital of Wes- 
 tern India is, within ten miles of it, in the island of Sal- 
 sette, at the little-visited Buddhist caves of Kanhari, the 
 traveller will find not only a long series of ancient richly- 
 sculptured cave-temples and monastic retreats, but also 
 the most savage specimens of animal and vegetable life, 
 in a thick jungle which often seems alive with monkeys, 
 and where, if he only remains over night, he would have 
 a very good chance of attracting the attention of the 
 most ferocious denizen of the Indian forest. Though the 
 locomotive bears him swiftly and smoothly up the in- 
 clines of the Thull Ghaut, instead of his having to cross 
 the Sahyadri range by a bridle-path, or be dragged 
 painfully by tortured bullocks at the rate of half a mile 
 an hour, as was the case only a few years ago; yet he 
 has only to stop at the picturesquely-situated bungalow 
 at Egutpoora, and wander a little way along the edge of 
 the great bounding wall of the Deccan, in order to look 
 down immense precipices of columnar basalt, and see 
 huge rock-snakes sunning themselves upon the bastions 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 
 
 of old Mardtha forts, and be startled by the booming cry 
 of the Entelius monkey, or by coming on the footprints of 
 a leopard or a tiger. And it may not be amiss, when 
 writing of the Western Ghauts, to point out the remark- 
 able parallelism, which has not before been noted, 
 between these mountains and the Himaliya, for it may 
 serve to make the contour of both ranges easily intel- 
 ligible. Both are immense bounding walls ; the one to 
 the elevated plains of the Deccan, and the other to the 
 still more elevated tableland of Central Asia. Carry- 
 ing out this parallel, the Narbada (Nerbudda) will be 
 found to occupy very much the same position as the 
 Indus, the Sutlej as the Tapti, and the Godaveri as the 
 Brahmaputra. All have their rise high up on their 
 respective tablelands ; some branches of the Godaveri 
 rise close to the sources of the Narbada, just as the Indus 
 and the Brahmaputra have their origin somewhere about 
 Lake Manasarovvar ; and yet the former rivers fall into 
 the sea on opposite sides of the Indian peninsula, just as 
 the two latter do. So, in like manner, the Tapti has its 
 origin near that of the Narbada, as the Sutlej rises 
 close to the Indus ; and if we can trust the Sind tradi- 
 tion, which represents the upper part of the Arabian Sea 
 as having once been dry land, there may have been 
 a time within the human era when the Tapti flowed into 
 the Narbada, as the Sutlej does into the Indus some way 
 above the sea. There is no mountain group in the High- 
 lands of Central India where the three southern rivers 
 rise quite so close together as do the three northern 
 rivers from the lofty and inaccessible Tibetan Kailas, but 
 still there is a great similarity in their relative positions ; 
 and it is only when we think of the Sahyadri and Hima- 
 liya as boundary walls that we can understand their 
 relations to the tableland behind them, and their terrific 
 fall to the low-lying land in front. 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 But there is no snow on the Sahyadri mountains, so 
 we must hurry on past Nasik, where there is a holy city 
 scarcely less sacred than Benares in the estimation of 
 the Hindus ; so holy is it, that the mere mention of the 
 river on which it stands is supposed to procure the for- 
 giveness of sins ; and the banks of this river are covered 
 by as picturesque ghauts and temples as those of the 
 Gangetic city. No traveller should omit stopping at 
 Nandgaum, in order to pay a visit to the immense series 
 of carved hills, of rock-temples and sculptured caves, 
 which make EUora by far the most wonderful and instruc- 
 tive place in India. If we have to diverge from the rail- 
 way line again into the upper Tapti valley, we shall find 
 that the basins of rich and once cultivated soil are covered 
 by dense jungle of grass and bamboo, full of tiger, bear, 
 bison, sambar and spotted deer, and inhabited, here and 
 there, by Kurkies and other aboriginal tribes, but having 
 a deadly climate during great part of the year. Ap- 
 proaching Khandwa on the railway, we see the ancient 
 and famous fort of Asirghar in the distance, rising 850 
 feet above the plain, and 23CO feet above the sea ; and 
 Khandwa itself, which has been built with the stones 
 from an old Jain town, is important now as a place where 
 the whole traffic of Central India to Bombay meets, and 
 as one terminus of a branch line of rail which takes into 
 the great native state of India, and the capital of the 
 famous Holkar. Here we enter into the Narbada valley, 
 and are soon between two notable ranges of mountains, 
 the Satpura and the Vindhya. Ten }'ears ago the Cen- 
 tral Provinces were described as " for the most part a 
 terra incognita; " and, though now well Icnown, the Pligh- 
 lands of Central India present abundance of the densest 
 jungle, full of the wildest animals and the most primitive 
 of men. In the early dawn, as the railway train rushes 
 along through the cool but mild air, are seen to the right 
 
rO THE HEIGHTS. 
 
 an irregular line of picturesque mountains covered with 
 thick jungle to their summits ; and the Englishman unac- 
 customed to India, who leaves the railway and goes into 
 them, will find himself as much out of his reckoning as 
 if he threw himself overboard a Red Sea steamer and 
 made for the Arabian coast. The Narbada, which is the 
 boundary between the Deccan and Hindusthan proper, 
 rises at Amartank, at the height of 5000 feet, in the 
 dominions of the painted Rajah of Rewa, who was cer- 
 tainly the most picturesque figure in the great Bombay 
 durbar two years ago. It enters the Gulf of Bombay at 
 the cotton town of Bharuch or Broach, and to the Eng- 
 lish merchant is almost the most important of the Indian 
 rivers. It is supposed that, in prehistoric times, its valley 
 must have been a series of great lakes, which are now 
 filled by alluvial deposits of a recent epoch ; and the 
 discovery of flint implements in its alluvium, by the late 
 Lieutenant Downing Sweeney, has indicated it as an 
 important field for the researches of the archaeologist. 
 Though its upper course is tumultuous enough, in deep 
 clefts through marble rock, and falling in cascades over 
 high ledges, it soon reaches a rich broad valley, con- 
 taining iron and coal, which is one of the largest grana- 
 ries, and is the greatest cotton field of India. Through 
 that valley it runs, a broad yellow strip of sand and 
 shinglej and it has altogether a course of about 800 
 miles, chiefly on a basalt bed, through a series of rocky 
 clefts and valley basins. 
 
 If the traveller has come straight from Bomba}', he 
 will feel inclined to halt at Jabalpur (Jubbulpore) after 
 hi,s ride of twenty-six hours ; but if his stay there be 
 only for a day, he will do well, after seeing the novelty 
 of a Thug school of industry, to hire a horse-carriage, 
 and drive on about ten miles to the famous and won- 
 derful Marble Rocks, where he Avill find a beautifully- 
 
lo THE ABODE OF SNOV/. 
 
 situated bungalow for travellers, and an old but by no 
 means worn-out Khansamah, who will cook for him a 
 less pretentious, but probably as good a dinner as he 
 would find in the hotels of Jabalpiir. The place I 
 speak of presents one of those enchanting scenes 
 which remain for ever vivid in the memory. The 
 Narbada there becomes pent up among rocks, and 
 falls over a ledge about thirty feet high, and then 
 flows for about two miles through a deep chasm below 
 the surface of the surrounding countr}^, cut through 
 basalt and marble, but chiefly through the latter. 
 The stream above its fall has a breadth of ico yards, but 
 in the chasm of only about 20 yards ; and the glittering 
 cliffs of white marble which rise above it are from 80 to 
 120 feet high, and are composed of a dolomite and 
 magnesian limestone. Such, briefly stated, are the con- 
 stituents of the. scene, but they are insufficient to explain 
 its weird charm. I went up between the Marble Rocks 
 in the early morn'ng in a boat, by moonlight, and floated 
 down in sunlight ; and as we moved slowly up that 
 romantic chasm, the drip of water from the paddles, and 
 the wash of the stream, only showed how deep the silence 
 was. A tiger had been doing some devastation in the 
 neighbourhood, and one of the boatmen whispered that 
 we might have a chance of seeing it come down to drink 
 at the entrance of the cleft, or moving along the rocks 
 • above, which of course made the position more interest- 
 ing. The marble walls on one side, which sparkled like 
 silver in the moonlight, reflected so white a radiance as 
 almost to illumine the shadow of the opposite cliff's; 
 but the stream itself lay in deeper shadow, with here 
 and there shafts of dazzling light falling upon it; and 
 above, the moonbeams had woven in the air a silvery 
 veil, through which even the largest stars shone only 
 dimlv. It did not look at all like a scene on earth, but 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 
 
 rather as if we were entering the portals of another world. 
 Coniing down in the brilliant sunlight, the chasm ap- 
 peared less weird but hardly less extraordinary. Large 
 fish began to leap at the dragon-flies which skimmed 
 over the surface of the water ; monke3'S ran along the 
 banks above, and chattered angrily at us ; many pea- 
 cocks also appeared above, uttering their harsh cries ; 
 and the large bees' nests which hung every here and 
 there from the Marble Rocks, began to show unpleasant 
 symptoms of life. Let every visitor to this place beware 
 how he disturbs these ferocious and reckless insects. 
 They are very large; their sting is very poisonous, and 
 they display a fury and determination in resenting any 
 interference, which makes them most formidable enemies. 
 Two Englishmen, I was told, were once floating through 
 the chasm, when a ball, which one of them had fired at 
 a peacock, slanted off" from the rock and unfortunately 
 happened to hit one of these nests. The consequence 
 was, that the bees immediately swarmed about the boat, 
 and stung one of its occupants, who was unable to swim, 
 so severely that he died from the effects. His com- 
 panion leaped into the stream and floated down with it; 
 but even then a cloud of bees followed him for a long 
 way, watching his movements, and immediately attacked 
 his face and every portion of his body which appeared 
 for an instant above the surface of the water. 
 
 Allahabad, the capital of the North- West Provinces, 
 has become one of the most important places in Lidia 
 from its position at the junction of two mighty rivers, 
 and as the centre of the railway communication between 
 Bombay, Calcutta, and the Panjab. It possesses a news- 
 paper, the Pioneer, which obtained great popularity all 
 over Lidia from the humour of its late editor, the Rev. 
 Julian Robinson ; and while its past is interesting from 
 its connection with the Lidian Mutiny and the stemming 
 
>2 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 of the tide of mutiny, the archaeologist will find in it 
 remains which are of great importance for the elucida- 
 tion of Indian antiquity. English travellers will also 
 find there the residence of the cotton commissioner, Mr 
 Rivett-Carnac, who is so well known by his great efforts 
 to enable India to meet the demands of Great Britain for 
 its products, by his activity in collecting information 
 of all kinds, and his extreme readiness in imparting it to 
 those who are happy enough to come in contact with him. 
 But we must proceed towards the Himaliya ; and in 
 order to do so at once, I shall say nothing here of Cawn- 
 pore and Lucknow,* Delhi and Agra. They have been 
 admirably described by several modern writers, but no 
 description can give an adequate idea of the mournful 
 interest excited by a visit to the two former, or of the 
 dazzling beauty of the Taj Mahal and the Pearl Mosque 
 of Agra. I shall only remark, that those who visit the 
 scenes of the Indian Mutiny may do well to inquire for 
 themselves into the true history of that dreadful out- 
 break, and not allow themselves to be deceived by the 
 palliating veil which such amiable writers as the late Dr 
 Norman Macleod have drawn over it. That history 
 has never been written ; and I was assured by one of 
 the special commissioners who went up with the first 
 relieving force from Allahabad, that the Government 
 interfered to prevent his publishing an account of it, 
 drawn from the sworn depositions which had been made 
 before him. It is right that the Angel of Mercy should 
 bend over the well at Cawnpore, and flowers spring 
 from the shattered walls- of the Residency at Lucknow; 
 but the lessons of the Mutiny are likely to be in great 
 part lost, if its unprovoked atrocities are to be concealed 
 
 * These are two names, the spelHng of which should have been left un- 
 alteied, even according to the Government's own views. 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 13 
 
 in the darkness to which every humane heart must desire 
 to relegate them. 
 
 Here, in the valley of the Ganges, we may be said to 
 be at the base of the Himaliya, though even from near 
 points of view they are not visible through the golden- 
 dust haze of an Indian March. This valley runs parallel 
 with the Stony Girdle for 1200 miles, itself varying from 
 80 miles in breadth at Monghir to 200 at Agra, and is 
 so flat as to suggest rather an immensely long strip of 
 plain than anything like a valley. Those who do not 
 think of venturing into the high and interior Himaliya, 
 but yet wish to have something like a near view of the 
 highest and grandest mountains in the world, will of 
 course direct their steps to one or more of the hill- 
 stations on its southern or south-western front, and each 
 of the more important of these is a place of departure 
 for the wilder and more inaccessible country behind. 
 A brief glance at these latter will serve to expose the 
 points from which the most interesting parts of the 
 Himaliya are accessible. 
 
 To begin from the east, Darjiling (Darjeeling) is the 
 great sanitarium for Bengal, and is usually the residence, 
 for some portion of the year, of the Lieutenant-Governor 
 of that province, and of his chief officers. A railway is 
 in course of construction, or is to be constructed, which 
 will greatly facilitate access to it. As it is, we have to 
 go eleven hours by rail from Calcutta, four hours in a 
 river steamboat, 124 miles in a dak gharri, bullock shig- 
 ram, or mail-cart, then fourteen miles on horseback, or 
 in a palanquin to the foot of the hills, and by similar 
 means of carriage up to the top of them, in order to 
 reach Darjiling. In the rains this is a horrible journey 
 to make ; and, except in the very hot season, the 
 miasma of the Terai, or jungle forest between Siligari 
 and Pankabarri, is so deadly that the traveller is always 
 
14 THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 advised to pass it by daylight — a proposal which in all 
 probability he will be glad to accede to, unless familiarity 
 with tigers and wild elephants has bred in him a due 
 contempt for such road-fellows. This makes Darjiling 
 not a very easy place to get at, and it has the additional 
 disadvantage of being exceedingly wet and cold during 
 the south-west monsoon — that is to say, from any time 
 in the end of June till the beginning of October ; but, 
 notwithstanding these drawbacks, it recommends itself 
 to the tourist who does not care to attempt tent-life in 
 the mountains, on account of its magnificent view of the 
 Himaliya, and its vicinity to the very highest peaks of 
 that mighty range. Gaurisankar, or Mount Everest, the 
 culminating point of the earth's surface, and which rises 
 to the height of 29,002 feet above the level of the sea, 
 is in Nepal, and is not visible from the hill-station we 
 speak of ; but it can be seen, when weather allows, from 
 an elevation only a day or two's journey from Darjiling. 
 Kanchinjanga in Sikkim, however, which is the second 
 highest peak in the world, and rises to the height of 
 28,150 feet, is visible from Darjiling; and no general 
 view of the Himaliya is finer, more characteristic, or 
 more impressive, than that- which we may have from the 
 Cutcherry hill at Darjiling, looking over dark range 
 after range of hills up to the eternal snows of Kanchin- 
 janga, and the long line of its attendant monarchs of 
 mountains. Unfortunately, Gaurisankar, the loftiest 
 mountain of all, is out of the reach of nearly all tra- 
 vellers, owing to our weakness in allowing Nepal to ex- 
 clude Englishmen from its territory ; but if any one is 
 very anxious to try Chinese Tibet, he will find one of 
 the doors into it by going up from Darjiling through the 
 protected state of Sikkim ; but whether the door will 
 open at his request is quite another matter, and if he 
 kicks at it, he is likely to find himself suddenly going 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 15 
 
 down the mountains considerably faster than he went 
 up them. Verbiun sat sapieniibus ; but if one could only 
 get through this door, it is a very short way from it to 
 Lassa, the capital of Tibet, and the residence of the 
 Grand Lama, which, possibly, is the reason why it is 
 kept so strictly guarded. 
 
 Gaurisankar, and the highest peaks of the Himaliya, 
 are on the border between Nepal and Tibet, and form a 
 group somewhat obtruding from the line of the main 
 range. It is provoking that the weak foreign policy of 
 the Indian Government — a policy, however, which has 
 been very much forced upon it from home — should 
 allow the Nepalese to exclude English travellers from 
 theii' territory, while at the same time we treat the 
 former as friendly allies, and heap honours upon Jung 
 Bahadur. To take such a line is always regarded in the 
 East as a proof of weakness, which indeed it is ; and the 
 best commentary upon its effects is the belief, every- 
 where prevalent in India, that the Nana Sahib is, or for 
 long has been, the protected guest of the Court of Kat- 
 mandu. This policy places about 500 miles of the 
 Himaliya out of the reach of the English traveller, 
 though these 500 miles contain the culminating point of 
 the whole range, the most splendid jewel in the Stony 
 Girdle of the Earth. There is another stretch of 500 
 miles to the east of Nepal, occupied by Bhotan, in which 
 also no European can travel, owing to the character of 
 the inhabitants and of the Government ; so that it is 
 only in the little narrowed strip of Sikkim that one can 
 get up at all to the main range of the eastern Himaliya ; 
 and thus we are practically shut out from a thousand 
 miles of the Himaliya — from a thousand miles of the 
 noblest mountains in the world, overlooking the Gangetic 
 valley and the conquered provinces of British India. 
 It follows from this, that the traveller who wishes to 
 
l6 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 enter among these giant mountains, and is not content 
 with a view of them, such as we have of the Oberland 
 Alps from the summit of the Righi, must of necessity 
 betake himself to the western Himaliya. It is true he 
 may. go up the Sikkim valley from Darjiling to the foot 
 of Kanchinjanga, but he is then confined to the narrow 
 gorges of the Testa and the Ranjit. Moreover, it is only 
 in summer that one can travel among the higher ranges, 
 and in summer, Sikkim is exposed to almost the full 
 force of the Indian monsoon, which rages up to the 
 snows of Kanchinjanga with a saturated atmosphere and 
 the densest fogs. Pedestrianism and tent-travelling in 
 such circumstances are almost out of the question ; and 
 as it is only when the traveller can get a snowy range 
 between himself and the Indian monsoon that he can 
 travel Avith any comfort, or even with safety, among the 
 Himaliya in summer, he must perforce betake himself to 
 their western section, if he desires to make acquaintance 
 with the interior and higher portions of that mighty 
 range. 
 
 Passing, then, over the 500 miles of Nepal, and casting 
 one longing look in the direction of Gaurisankar, we 
 come to Naini Tal or Nyni Tal, which is the sanitarium 
 of the North-West Provinces, as Darjiling is of Bengal, 
 and is visited every year by their Lieutenant-Governor 
 and a large portion of Allahabad society. It is a 
 charming spot, with a beautiful little lake surrounded 
 by wooded mountains; but it is not in proximity to any 
 high peaks, nor does it command views of the snowy 
 ranges. It does not afford easy access to any of the 
 points of special interest in the higher mountains, and 
 we do not recommend the Himaliyan tourist to pay it a 
 visit, for the time which it would occupy might be much 
 better bestowed in other directions ; but it has the ad- 
 vantage of having two outposts of civilisation between 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 17 
 
 it and the snowy mountains, — namely, Almora, from 
 which a long route by the base of Nanda Kut (22,536 
 feet high), will take up to another door into Chinese 
 Tartary — and Ranikhet, to which the late Lord Mayo 
 had some thought of removing the summer seat of the 
 supreme Government from Simla, because it has abun- 
 dance of wood and water, and is one of the very few 
 places in the Himali}^a where there is a little level 
 ground. 
 
 The next sanitarium is Masiiri, or Mussooree, which 
 can be reached, through the Sewalik range and the 
 beautiful valley of the Dehra Doon, in a long day from 
 Saharunpore on the railway. It is not visited by an\- 
 Government in particular; there is nobody to look after 
 people's morals in that aerial retreat ; and the result is, 
 that though Masuri has much quiet family life, and is 
 not much given to balls or large gay parties, it }'et has 
 the character of being the fastest of all the hill-stations, 
 and the one where grass widows combine to allow them- 
 selves the greatest liberty. This is scandal, howev^er — 
 not exact science ; and as I have something special to 
 say about both Masuri and Simla, I shall only remark 
 here that they present by far the best points of depar- 
 ture for a tour in the interior Himdliya; but it should 
 be noted that it is almost impossible to cross the outer 
 snowy range from the former station during July, 
 August, and September, when the monsoon is piling 
 snow upon it, and beneath the snow-line the rivers are 
 flooded. 
 
 The younger hill-stations of Dharamsala and Dal- 
 housie are a long way to the, north-west of Simla, and 
 are so far from the line of railway to Lahore and from 
 any carriage roads, that they are not likely to be sought, 
 in the first instance, by any tourist, however enterprising. 
 But it may be remarked that they are convenient depots 
 
 B 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 of the products of civilisation ; that Dalhousie is a good 
 starting-point for Kashmir, and that Dharamsala, where 
 the houses stand at elevations of from about 4000 to 
 7000 feet high, rises out of the Kangra valley, which 
 Lord Canning held to be the most beautiful district in 
 India, with the exception of Kashmir, and which com- 
 bines the advantages of tropical with Alpine climate and 
 vegetation. Very far beyond these, at a height of about 
 7000 feet, we have Mari (Muree) which is the hill-station 
 for the Panjab and its Lieutenant-Governor, and the 
 great point of departure for Kashmir. It is only 40 
 miles distant from the Grand Trunk Road at Rawal 
 Pindi, and can be reached in hill-carts, so that it is really 
 more accessible to the English tourist than some of the 
 hill-stations which geographically may appear much 
 nearer ; but it is not in immediate proximity to any 
 very high ranges, though sometimes a glimpse can be 
 got from its neighbourhood of the wonderful peak of 
 Nangha Purbat, which is 26,629 feet high. Close to the 
 Indus, where the Himaliya have changed into the Hindu 
 Kush, there is Abbotabad, which, though a military 
 station, and little over 4000 feet, is one of the points 
 which command Kashmir; and it has beside it the sani- 
 tarium of Tandali, or Tundiani, which presents more 
 extensive views from the height of 9000 feet. And here 
 our line of sanitariums comes to an end ; for though the 
 plain of our trans-Indus possession is bounded by the 
 most tempting mountains, the lower ranges of the Hindu 
 Kush, yet if the tourist makes even the slightest attempt 
 to scale these, he will find that, between the Akoond of 
 Swat, the Amir of Kaubul, and the officers of the British 
 Government, he will have an uncommonly bad time of 
 it, and may consider himself fortunate if he is only 
 brought back neck-and-crop to Peshawur (Peshawur) 
 and put under surveillance, or ordered out of the district. 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 19 
 
 Simla, as I have indicated, is the best starting--point 
 for the inner Himaliya, besides being an interesting 
 place in itself, as usually the summer residence of the 
 Viceroy and the other chiefs of the supreme Government 
 of India, though this year they have been detained in 
 Calcutta by the Bengal famine. But Masuri is more 
 easy of access; that place, or rather the closely adjacent 
 military station of Landaur (Landour), commands a 
 finer view of snowy peaks ; and it is not necessary to 
 descend from Masuri to the burning plains in order to 
 reach Simla, as a good bridle-road, passing through the 
 new military station of Chakraota, connects the two 
 places, and can be traversed in fourteen easy marches, 
 which afford very good preliminary experience for a 
 tour in the Himaliya. In April of last year Masuri was 
 the first elevation I made for, and eagerly did I seek its 
 cool breezes after the intense heat of Agra and Delhi. 
 Anglo-Indians are very hospitable towards Engh'sh tra- 
 vellers; and as the thoughtful kindness of Sir William 
 Muir, the then Lieutenant-Governor of the North- West 
 Provinces, had furnished me with some valuable letters 
 of introduction, I could not but accede to his wish that 
 I should go to Rurki (Roorkee) and see the Engineering 
 College there, the workshops, and the works of the 
 Ganges Canal. At Saharunpore, the railway station 
 for Rurki, there is a botanical garden, and a valuable col- 
 lection of fossils, under the charge, and created by the 
 labours, of Dr Jamieson, of the Forest Department, a 
 relative and pupil of the well-known mineralogist, and 
 one of the founders of the science of geology, who for 
 fifty years occupied the post of Professor of Natural 
 History in the University of Edinburgh. Of Rurki 
 itself, and its invaluable canal, which has done so much 
 to prevent famine in the North-West Provinces, I hope 
 to speak elsewhere, I was fortunate enough there to be 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 the guest of Major Lang, the very able Principal of the 
 Engineering College, who had formerly been engaged 
 in the construction of "the great Hindusthan and Tibet 
 Road," which runs from Simla towards Chinese Tartary ; 
 and any doubts as to where I was bound for were soon 
 entirely dissipated by the Principal's descriptions of 
 Chini and Pangay, the Indian Kailas, and the Parang 
 La. He warned me, indeed, not to attempt Chinese 
 Tibet, lest the fate of the unfortunate Adolph Schlagint- 
 weit might befall me, and a paragraph should appear in 
 the Indian papers announcing that a native traveller 
 from Gartok had observed a head adorning the pole of 
 a Tartar's tent, which head, there was only too much 
 reason to fear from his description of it, must have been 
 that of the enterprising traveller who lately penetrated 
 into Chinese Tibet by way of Shipki. But then it was 
 not necessary to cross the border in order to see Chini 
 and the Kailas; and even his children kindled with 
 enthusiastic delight as they cried out " Pangay ! Pan- 
 gay!" 
 
 As the greatest mela or religious fair of the Hindus 
 was being held at this time at Hardwar (Hurdwar), 
 where the Ganges is supposed to issue from the Himaliya, 
 I went over there to see that extraordinary scene, and 
 was fortunate enough to hit upon the auspicious day for 
 bathing. That also I must leave undescribed at present, 
 and proceed in a dooly from Hardwar, along a jungle- 
 path through the Terai to the Dehra Doon and Masuri. 
 This was my first experience of the Himaliya. In vain 
 had I strained my eyes to catch a glimpse of their snowy 
 summits through the golden haze which filled the hot 
 air. Though visible from Rurki, and many other places 
 in the plains at certain seasons, they are not so in April ; 
 but here, at least, was the outermost circle of them — the 
 Terai, or literally, the "wet land," the " belt of death." 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 2i 
 
 the thick jungle swarming with wild beasts, which runs 
 along- their southern base. It is not quite so thick or so 
 deadly here between the Ganges and the Jumna, as it is 
 farther to the east, on the other side of the former river, 
 and all the way from the Ganges to the Brahmaputra, 
 constituting, I suppose, the longest as well as the 
 deadliest strip of, jungle-forest in the world. The 
 greater cold in winter in this north-western portion, and 
 its greater distance from the main range, prevent its 
 trees attaining quite such proportions as they do farther 
 east ; but still it has sufficient lieat and moisture, and 
 sufficiently little circulation of air, to make it even here 
 a suffocating hothouse, into which the wind does not 
 penetrate to dissipate the moisture transpired by the 
 vegetation ; and where, besides the most gigantic Indian 
 trees and plants — as the sissoo, the saul tree, with its 
 shining leaves and thick clusters of flowers, and the 
 most extraordinary interlacing of enormous creepers — 
 we have, strange to say, a number of trees and other 
 plants properly belonging to far-distant and intensely 
 tropical parts of the earth, such as the Cassia elata of 
 Burmah, the Marlea hcgonicEfolia of Java, the Diiriiigia 
 celosiocides of Papua, and the Neriiini odorum of Africa. 
 This natural conservatory is a special haunt for wild 
 animals, and for enormous snakes, such as the p}'thon. 
 The rhinoceros exists in the Terai, though not beyond 
 the Ganges ; but in the part we now are ---that between 
 the Ganges and the Jumna — there are wild elephants, 
 and abundance of tiger, leopard, panther, bear, antelope, 
 and deer of various kinds. My Bombay servant had 
 heard so many stories at Hardwar about the inhabitants 
 of this jungle, that he entered into it with fear and 
 trembling. If the word Jiatii (elephant) was uttered 
 once by our coolies, it was uttered a hundred times in 
 the course of the morning. Before we had gone very 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 far, my dooly was suddenly placed on the ground, and 
 my servants informed me that there were some wild 
 elephants close by. Now, the idea of being in a canvas 
 dooly when an elephant comes up to trample on it, is 
 by no means a pleasant one ; so I gathered myself put 
 slowly and deliberately, but with an alacrity which I 
 could hardly have believed possible. Surely enough, 
 the heads and backs of a couple of large elephants were 
 visible in the bush ; and as they had no howdabs or 
 cloths upon them, the inference was fair that they were 
 wild animals. But a little observation served to show 
 that there were men beside them. They turned out to 
 be tame elephants belonging to a Mr Wilson, a well- 
 known Himaliyan character, who was hunting in the 
 Terai, and who seems to have been met by every tra- 
 veller to Masuri for the last twenty years. I did not see 
 him at this time, but afterwards made his acquaintance 
 in the hotel at Masuri, and again in Bombay. It will 
 give some idea of the abundance of game in this part of 
 the Terai to mention, that on this shooting excursion, 
 which lasted only for a very few days, he bagged two 
 tigers, besides wounding another, which was lost in the 
 jungle, three panthers, and about thirty deer. Mr Wil- 
 son has been called the " Ranger of the Hima!i\-a," and 
 his history is a curious one. About thirty years ago he 
 w-andered up to these mountains on foot from Calcutta 
 with his gun, being a sort of superior " European loafer." 
 There his skill as a hunter enabled him to earn more 
 than a livelihood, by preserving and sending to Calcutta 
 the skins of the golden pheasant and other valuable 
 birds. This traffic soon developed to such proportions, 
 that he emplo)-ed nr<xny pah arries to procure for him the 
 skins of birds and animals, so that his returns were not 
 solely dependent on the skill of his own hand. He 
 married a native mountain lad}', who possessed some 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 23 
 
 land, a few days' marches from Masuri ; and finally, by 
 a fortunate contract for supplying Indian railways with 
 sleepers from the woods of the Himali\-a, he had made 
 so much mone\', that it was currently believed at Masuri, 
 when I was there, that he was worth more than ^150,000. 
 I was interested in his account of the passes leading 
 towards Yarkund and Kashmir, with some of which he 
 had made personal acquaintance. I may mention, also, 
 that he spoke in very high terms of the capacities, as an 
 explorer, of the late Mr Hayward, the agent of the 
 Geographical Society of London, who was cruelh' mur- 
 dered on the border of Yassin, on his way to the Pamir 
 Steppe, the famous " Roof of the World." It has been 
 rumoured that IVIr Hayward was in the habit of ill- 
 . treating the people of the countries through which he 
 passed ; but Mr Wilson, who travelled with him for some 
 time, and is himself a great favourite with the moun- 
 taineers, repelled this supposition, and said he had met 
 with no one so well fitted as this unfortmiate agent of 
 the Geographical Society for making his way in difficult 
 countries. I do not think that the least importance 
 should be attached to accusations of the kind which" have 
 been brought against Mr Hayward, or rather against his 
 memory. The truth is, it is so absolutely necessary at 
 times in High Asia to carry matters with a high hand 
 — so necessary for the preservation, not only of the 
 traveller's own life, but also of the lives of his atten- 
 dants — that there is hardly a European traveller in that 
 region, against whom, if his mouth were only closed with 
 the dust of the grave, and there was any reason- for 
 getting up a case against him, it could not be proved, in 
 a sort of way, that it was his ill-treatment of the natives 
 which had led to his being murdered. I am sure such a 
 case could have been made out against myself on more 
 than one occasion; and an officer on the staff o'i the 
 
24 THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 Commander-in-Chief in India told me, that the people 
 of Spiti had complained to him, that a Sahib, who knew 
 neither Hindusthani nor English, much less their own 
 Tibetan dialect,- had been beating them because they 
 Could not understand him. Now, this Sahib is one of 
 the mildest and most gentlemanly of the members of the 
 present Yarkund Mission, and the cause of his energy in 
 Spiti was, that, shortly before, in Lahoul, several of his 
 coolies had perished from cold, owing to disobedience 
 of his orders, and being a humane man, he was anxious 
 to guard against the recurrence of such an event. But 
 when treating of Kashmir, I shall speak more openly 
 about the story of Hayward's death, and only vdsh to 
 note here the testimony in his favour which was borne 
 by the experienced "Ranger of the Himaliya," who has 
 become almost one in feeling with the people among 
 whom he dwells. 
 
 In the centre of this Terai, there is an expensively- 
 built police chowkie, in which I took refuge from the 
 extreme heat of the day ; but what police have to do 
 there, unless to apprehend tigers, does not appear at 
 first sight. It is quite conceivable, however, that the 
 conservatory might become a convenient place of refuge 
 for wild and lawless men, as well as for wild plants and 
 wild beasts. Hence the presence in its midst of these 
 representatives of law and order, who hailed the visit 
 of a Sahib with genuine delight. The delay here pre- 
 vented me reaching the cultivated valley of the Dehra 
 Doon till midnight, so torches were lit long before we 
 left the thicker part of the Terai ; their red light made 
 the wild jungle look wilder than ever, and it was with a 
 feeling of relief that we came upon the first gardens and 
 tea plantations. There is no place in India, unless per- 
 haps the plateaus of the Blue Mountains, which remind 
 one so much of England as the little valley of the Dehra 
 
 n 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 
 
 Doon ; and Sir George Campbell lias well observed that 
 no district has been so happily designed by nature for 
 the capital of an An_g"lo- Indian empire. It lies between 
 the Sewalik or sub-Himaliyan range and the Hinialiya 
 itself. This former low line of hills, which is composed 
 from the debris of the greater range, has its strata dip- 
 ping towards the latter in a north-easterly direction, and 
 consists of a few parallel ridges which are high towards 
 the plains, but sloping in the direction of the Himaliya 
 where there is any interval between. It contains an 
 immense collection of the fossil bones of the horse, bear, 
 camel, hyena, ape, rhinoceros, elephant, crocodile, hippo- 
 potamus, and also of the sivatherium, the megatherium, 
 and other enormous animals not now found alive. At 
 some places it rests upon the Himali}'a, and at others is 
 separated from them by raised valleys. The Dehra 
 Doon is one of those elevated valleys, with the Upper 
 Ganges and Jumna flowing through it on opposite sides, 
 and is about seventy miles in length and nearly twenty 
 in breadth. It is sometimes spoken of by enthusiasts 
 for colonisation in India, as if the whole Anglo-Saxon 
 race might find room to establish themselves there ; but 
 it is realh'- a very small district, with almost all the avail- '^ 
 able land occupied ; and from Masuri we see the whole 
 of it h'ing at our feet and bounded by the two shining 
 rivers. It is a very pleasant place, however. Being so 
 far north, just about 30° of latitude, and at an elevation 
 of a little over 20CO feet, it enjoys a beautiful climate. 
 Even in the hot season the nights and mornings are 
 quite cool, which is the great thing in a hot country; 
 the fall of rain is not so great as in the plains below or 
 in .the hills immediately above; and in the cold season 
 the temperature is delightful, and at times bracing. I 
 saw roses in the Dehra Doon growing under bamboos 
 and mango-trees, and beds of fine European vegetables 
 
26 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 side by side with fields of the tea shrub. In one planta- 
 tion which I examined particularly, the whole process 
 of preparing the tea was shown to. me. It was under 
 the superintendence of a Celestial, and the process did 
 not differ much from that followed in China, but the 
 plants were smaller than those usually seen in the 
 Flowery Land. After havino- been for long a rather 
 unprofitable speculation, the cultivation of tea on the 
 slopes of the Himaliya is now a decided monetary suc- 
 cess ; and the only difficulty is to meet the demand for 
 Indian tea which exists not only in India and Europe 
 but also in Central Asia. Dr Jamieson of Saharunpore, 
 who has interested himself much in the growth of tea in 
 India, and pressed it on when almost everybody de- 
 spaired of its ever coming to anything, was kind enough 
 to give me a map showing the tea districts of the western 
 Himaliya ; and I see from it that they begin close to the 
 Nepalese frontier at Pethoraguih in Kumaon. A num- 
 ber of them are to be found from a little below Naini 
 Tal northwards up to Almora and Ranikhet. Besides 
 those in the Dehra Doon, there are some in its neigh- 
 bourhood immediately below Masuri, and to the east of 
 that hill-station. Next we have those at Kalka on the 
 way to Simla from Ambala (Umballa), at or rather just 
 below Simla itself, at Kotghur in the valley of the Sutlej, 
 and in the Kulii valle\% so famed for the beauty and im- 
 morality of its women. And lastly, there is a group at 
 Dharamsala, and in the Kangra valley and its neighbour- 
 hood. The cultivation of tea does not seem to get on 
 in the Hima!i}-a above the height of 6coo feet, and it 
 flourishes from that height down to about 2000 feet, or 
 perhaps lower. Some people are verv^ fond of Indian 
 tea, and declare it to be equal, if not superior, to that of 
 the Middle Kingdom ; but I do not agree with them at 
 all. When my supplies ran out in High Asia, tea was 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 27 
 
 for some time my only artificial beverage, though that, 
 too, failed me at last, and I was obliged to have recourse 
 to roasted barley, from which really very fair coffee can 
 be made, ^nd coffee quite as good as the liquid to be 
 had under that name in half the cafes of Europe. It is 
 in such circumstances that one can really test tea, when 
 we are so dependent on it for its refreshing and invigo- 
 rating effects ; and I found that none of the Indian tea 
 which I had with me — not even that of Kangra, which 
 is the best of all — was to be compared for a moment, 
 either in its effects or in the pleasantness of its taste, 
 with the tea of two small packages from Canton, which 
 were given me by a friend just as I was starting from 
 Simla. The latter, as compared with the Himaliyan 
 tea, was as sparkling hock to home-brewed ale, and yet 
 it was only a fair specimen of the ordinary better-class 
 teas of the Pearl river. 
 
 Looking from 'Rajpore at the foot of the hills up to 
 Masuri, that settlement has a very curious appearance. 
 Many of its houses are distinctly visible along the ridges; 
 but they are so very high up, and so immediately above 
 one, as to suggest that we are in for something like the 
 labours and the experience of Jack on the bean-stalk. 
 In the bazaar at Rajpore, I was reminded of the Alps 
 by noticing several cases of goitre: and I afterwards 
 saw instances of this disease at Masuri ; at Kalka, at 
 the foot of the Simla hills; at Simla; at Nirth, a very 
 hot place near Rampur in the Sutlej valley ; at Lippe, 
 a cool place, about. 9000 feet higli, in Upper KunaAvur, 
 with abundance of good water; at Kaelang in Lahoul, 
 a similar place, but still higher ; at the Ringdom Mon- 
 astery in Zanskar, about 12,000 feet high; in the great 
 open valley of Kashmir; and at Peshawar in the low-lying 
 trans-Indus plains. These cases do not all fit into any 
 particular theory which has been advanced regarding the 
 
28 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 cause of this hideous disease ; and Dr Bramley has men- 
 tioned in the Transactions of the Medical Society of 
 Calcutta, that in Nepal he found goitre was more pre- 
 valent on the crests of high mountains than in the 
 valleys. The steep ride to Masiiri up the vast masses 
 of mountain, which formed only the first and compara- 
 tively insignificant spurs of the Himaliya, gave a slight 
 foretaste of what is to be experienced among their giant 
 central ranges. 
 
 Masuri, though striking enough, is by no means a 
 picturesque place. It wants the magnificent deodar and 
 other trees of the Simla ridge, and, except from the 
 extremxC end of the settlement, it has no view of the 
 Snowy Mountains, though it affords a splendid outlook 
 over the Dehra Doon, the Sewaliks, and the Indian 
 plains beyond. The "Himalayan Hotel" there is the 
 best hotel I have met with in India; and there are also 
 a club-house and a good subscription reading-room and 
 library. Not a few of its English inhabitants live there 
 all the year round, in houses, many of which are placed 
 in little shelves scooped out of the precipitous sides of 
 the mountain. The ridges on which it rests afford only 
 about five miles of riding-paths in all, and no tableland. 
 Its height is about 7000 feet — almost all the houses be- 
 ing between 6400 and 7200 feet above the level of the 
 sea. But this insures a European climate ; for on the 
 southern face of the Himaliya the average yearly temper- 
 ature of London is found at a height of about 8000 feet. 
 The chief recommendation of Masuri is its equality of 
 temperature, both from summer to winter and from day 
 to night ; and in most other respects its disadvantages are 
 rather glaring. In April, I found the thermometer in a 
 shaded place in the open air ranged from 60° Fahr. at 
 daybreak, to 71° between two and three o'clock in the 
 afternoon ; and the rise and fall of the mercury were 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 29 
 
 very gradual and regular indeed, though there was a 
 good deal of rain. The coldest month is January, which 
 has a mean temperature of about 42° 45' ; and the hot- 
 test is July, which has 6j° 35'. The transition to the 
 rainy season appears to make very little difference ; but 
 while the months of October and November are delight- 
 ful, with a clear and serene sky, and an average tempera- 
 ture of 54°, the rainy season must be horrible, expos'ed 
 as Masuri is, without an intervening rock or tree, to the 
 full force of the Indian south-west monsoon. The Baron 
 Carl Hiigel mentions that when he was there in 1835, 
 the rain lasted for cigJity-five days, with an intermission 
 of only a few hours. It cannot always be so bad as that 
 at Masuri in summer, but still the place must be exceed- 
 ingly wet, cold, and disagreeable during the period of 
 the monsoon ; and it is no wonder that, at such a season, 
 the residents of the Dehra Doon much prefer their 
 warmer and more protected little valley below. 
 
 Notwithstanding the attractions of the " Himalayan 
 Hotel," I would recom.mend the visitors to Masuri to 
 get out of it as soon as possible, and to follow the 
 example of the American who said to me after forty- 
 eight hours he could stand it no longer, and that he 
 wanted "to hear them panthers growling about my tent." 
 The two great excursions from this place are to the 
 Jumnotri and the Gangotri peaks, where the sacred 
 rivers, Jumna and Ganges, may be said to take their rise 
 respectively. These journeys involve tent-life, and the 
 usual concomitants of Himaliyan travel, but they are 
 well worth making ; for the southern side of the sunny 
 Himaliya in this neighbourhood is grand indeed. It is 
 only fifteen marches from Masuri to the glacier from 
 which the Ganges is said to issue, though, in reality, a 
 branch of it descends from much further up among the 
 mountains ; and these marches are quite easy except for 
 
30 THE ABODE CF SNOW. 
 
 nine miles near to the glacier, where there is "a very 
 bad road over ladders, scaffolds," &c. It is of import- 
 ance to the tourist to bear in m.ind that, in order to pur- 
 sue his pleasure in the Himaliya, it is not necessary for 
 him to descend froni Masuri to the burning plains. The 
 hill-road to Simla I have already spoken of. There is 
 also a direct route from Masuri to Wangtu Bridge, in 
 the Sutlej valley, over the Burand Pass, which is 15,180 
 feet high, and involving only two marches on which there 
 are no villages to afford supplies. This route to Wangtu 
 Bridge is only fourteen marches, and that place is so 
 near to Chini and the Indian Kailas that the tourist 
 might visit these latter in a few days from it, thus seeing 
 some of the finest scenery in the snowy Himaliya ; and 
 he could afterwards proceed to Simla from Wangtu in 
 eleven marches along the cut portion of the Hindusthan 
 and Tibet road. There is another and still more inter- 
 estmg route from Masuri to the valley of the Sutlej over 
 the Nila or Nilung Pass, and then down the wild Buspa 
 valley ; but that pass is an exceedingly difficult one, and 
 is somewhere about 18,000 feet high, so no one should 
 atternpt it without some previous experience of the high 
 Himaliya ; and it is quite impassable when the monsoon 
 is raging, as indeed the Burand Pass may be said to be 
 also. The neophyte may also do well to remember that 
 tigers go up to the snow on the south side of the Hima- 
 liya ; and that, at the foot of the Jumnotri and Gangotri 
 peaks, besides " them panthers," and a tiger or two, he 
 is likely enough to have snow-bears growling about his 
 tent at night. 
 
 I had been unfortunate in not having obtained even a 
 single glimpse of the snowy Himali\'a from the plains, 
 or from any point of m}' journey to Masuri, and I learned 
 there that they were only visible in the early morning at 
 that season. Accordinglv I ascended one morning at 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 31 
 
 daybreak to the neighbouring- military station of Lan- 
 daur, and there saw these giant mountains for the first 
 time. Sir Alexander Burnes wrote in his " Travels into 
 Bokhara," &c. — " I felt a nervous sensation of joy as I 
 first gazed on the Himalaya." When Bishop Heber 
 saw them, he " felt intense delight and awe in looking 
 on them." Even in these anti-enthusiastic times I fancy 
 most people experience some emotion on first beholding 
 those lofty pinnacles of unstained snow, among which 
 the gods of Hindusthan are believed to dwell. From 
 Landaur a sea of mist stretched from m}- feet, veiling, 
 but not altogether concealing, ridge upon ridge of dark 
 mountains, and even covering the lower portions of the 
 distant great wall of snow. No sunlight as }'et fell upon 
 this dark yet transparent mist, in which the mountainous 
 surface of the earth, with its black abysses, seemed sunk 
 as in a gloomy ocean, bounded by a huge coral-reef. 
 But above this, dazzling and glorious in the sunlight, 
 high up in the deep blue heavens, there rose a white 
 shining line of gigantic " icy summits reared in air." No- 
 thing could have been more peculiar and striking than 
 the contrast between the wild mountainous country be- 
 low — visible, but darkened as in an eclipse — and these 
 lofty domes and pinnacles of eternal ice and neve. No 
 cloud or fleck of mist marred their surpassing radiance. 
 Every glacier, snow-wall, icy aiguille, and smooth-rounded 
 snow-field, gleamed with marvellous distinctness in the 
 morning light, though here and there the sunbeams drew 
 out a more overpowering brightness. These were the 
 Jumnotri, and Gangotri peaks, the peaks of Badrinath and 
 of the Hindu Kailas ; the source of mighty sacred rivers ; 
 the very centre of the Himaliya; the Himniel, or heaven 
 of the Teuton Aryans as well as of Hindu mythology. 
 Mount Meru itself may be regarded as raising there its 
 golden front against the sapphire sky ; the Kailas, or 
 
32 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 " Seat of Happiness/' is the coelwn of the Latins ; and 
 there is the fitting-, unapproachable abode of Brahma and 
 of his attendant gods, Gandharvas and Rishis. 
 
 But I now felt determined to make a closer acquaint- 
 ance with these wondrous peaks — to move among them, 
 upon them, and behind them — so I hurried from Masuri 
 to Simla by the shortest route, that of the carriage-road 
 from the foot of the hills through the Sewaliks to Saha- 
 runpore ; by rail from thence to Ambala, by carriage to 
 Kalka, and from Kalka to Simla in a jJiainpan, by the 
 old road, which, however, is not the shortest way for that 
 last section, because a mail-cart now runs along the new 
 road. Ambala, and the roads from thence to Simla, 
 present a very lively scene in April, when the Governor- 
 General, the Commander-in-Chief, the heads of the 
 supreme Government, their baggage and attendants, and 
 the clerks of the different departments, are on their way 
 up to the summer retreat of the Government of India. 
 It is highly expedient for the traveller to avoid the days 
 of the great rush, v/hen it is impossible for him to find 
 conveyance of any kind at any price — -and I did so ; but 
 even coming in among the ragtag and bobtail, — if deputy- 
 commissioners and colonels commanding regiments — 
 men so tremendous in their own spheres — may be thus 
 profanely spoken of, — there was some difficulty in pro- 
 curing carriage and bungalow accommodation ; and 
 there was plenty of amusing company, — from the ton- 
 weight of the post-office official, who required twenty 
 groaning coolies to carry him, to the dapper little lieu- 
 tenant or assistant deput}--commissioner, who cantered 
 lightly along parapetless roads skirting precipices ; and 
 from the heavy-browed sultana of some Gangetic station, 
 whose stern look palpably interrogates the amount of 
 your monthly /(T^^cfr, to the more lilylike young Anglo- 
 Indian dame or damsel, who darts at you a Parthian, 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. ^i 
 
 yet gentle glance, though shown " more in the eyelids 
 than the eyes," as she trips from h.QX jhampan or Bareilly 
 dandy into the travellers' bungalow. 
 
 In the neighbourhood of Simla there is quite a collec- 
 tion of sanitariums, which are passed, or seen, by tjie 
 visitors to that more famous place. The first of these, 
 and usually the first stopping-place for the night of 
 those who go by the old bridle-road from Kalka, is Kus- 
 sowli, famous for its Himaliyan beer, which is not unlike 
 the ordinary beer of Munich. It is more rainy than 
 Simla, more wind}% and rather warmer, though as high, 
 or a little higher, and is chiefly occupied as a depot for 
 the convalescents of European regiments. Close to it 
 rises the barren hill of Sonawur, where there is the (Sir 
 Henry) Lawrence Asylum, for boys and girls of Euro- 
 pean or mixed parentage, between 400 and 500 being 
 usually supported and educated there at the expense of 
 Government. Two other sanitariums, Dagshai (Dugshaie) 
 and Subathu (Subathoo), are also military depots, — the 
 latter having large barracks, and houses with fine gar- 
 dens and orchards. The British soldier improves greatly 
 in strength and appearance on these heights ; but it is 
 said he does not appreciate the advantages of being 
 placed upon them. He does not like having to do so 
 much for himself as falls to his lot when he is sent to the 
 mountains. He misses the Indian camp-followers, who 
 treat him below as a Chota Lord Sahib ; and, above all, 
 he misses the varied life of the plains, and the amuse- 
 ment of the bazaar. I am afraid, too, mountains fail 
 to afford him much gratification after his first burst of 
 pleasure on finding himself among and upon them. 
 " Sure, and I've been three times round that big hill 
 to-day, and not another blessed thing is there to do up 
 here!" I heard an Irish corporal indignantly exclaim. 
 To the officers and their families the hills are a delight- 
 ful change ; but to^ the undeveloped mind of Tommy 
 
 c 
 
34 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 Atkins they soon become exceedingly tiresome, though I 
 believe the soldiers enjoy much being employed in the 
 working parties upon the roads, where they have the 
 opportunity of laying by a little money. 
 
 The mountains between Kalka and Simla are wild and 
 picturesque enough, but they give no idea of either the 
 grandeur or the beauty of the Himaliya ; and the tra- 
 veller should be warned against being disappointed with 
 them. No ranges of eternal snow are in sight ; no forests 
 of lofty deodar; no thick jungle, like that of the Terai ; 
 no smiling valleys, such as the Dehra Doon. We have 
 only the ascending of steep bare mountain-sides, in order 
 to go down them on the other side, or to wind along bare 
 mountain-ridges. The hills either rest on each other, or 
 hive such narrow gorges between that there is no room 
 for cultivated valleys ; and their faces are so steep, and 
 so exposed to the action of the Indian rains, that all the 
 soil is swept away from them ; and so we have nothing 
 to speak of but red slopes of rock and shingle, with only 
 a few terraced patches of cultivation, and almost no trees 
 at all, except in the immediate vicinity of the military 
 stations. The worst parts of Syria would show to ad- 
 vantage compared with the long approach to Simla. L 
 understand, however, that the actual extent of cultiva- 
 tion is considerablygreater than one would readily sup- 
 pose, and occasionally the creeping vine and the cactus 
 do their best to clothe the rocky surface. On ascending 
 the Simla ridge itself, however, a change comes over the 
 scene. Himaliyan cedars and oaks cover the heights 
 and crowd the glades ; rhododendrons, if it be their 
 season of bloom, give quite a glory of colour ; and both 
 white and red roses appear among the brambles and 
 berberries of the thick underwood : a health}' resinous 
 odour meets one from the forest of mighty pine-trees, 
 mingled with more delicate perfumes ; beds of fern, with 
 couches of moss, lie along the roadside ; masses of cloud 
 
TO THE HEIGHTS. 
 
 35 
 
 come rolling down the valleys from the rounded, thickly- 
 wooded summit of Hatto ; deep glens, also finely wooded, 
 fall suddenly before our feet. On the one side, over a 
 confusion of hills and the edifices of Subathu and Dag- 
 shai, we have glimpses of the yellow burning Indian 
 plain ; on the other, through the oak branches and the 
 tower-like stems of deodar, there shines the long white 
 line of eternal snow upon the giant mountains of Chamba, 
 Kulu, and Spiti. It was a matter of life or death for me 
 to reach those snowy solitudes, and I found the words of 
 Mignon's song in "Wilhelm Meister" flitting across my 
 brain, and taking a new meaning : — 
 
 Know'st tlioii the land where towering cedars rise 
 In graceful majesty to cloudless skies ; 
 Where keenest winds from icy summits blow 
 Across the deserts of eternal snow ? 
 Know'st thou it not? 
 
 Oil there ! oh there I 
 My wearied spirit, let us flee from care ! 
 
 Know'st thou the tent, its cone of snowy drill, 
 Pitched on the greensward by the snow-fed rill ; 
 Where whiter peaks than marble rise around, 
 And icy ploughshares pierce the flower-clad ground? 
 Know'st thou it well ? 
 
 Oh there ! oh there ! 
 WHiere pipes the marmot — fiercely growls the bear 1 
 
 Know'st thou the cliffs above the gorges dread, 
 Where the great yaks with trembling footsteps tread. 
 Beneath the Alp, where frolic ibex play, 
 While snow-fields sweep across the perilous way? 
 Know'st thou it thus ? 
 
 Go there ! go thei-e ! 
 Scale cliffs, and granite avalanches dare! 
 
 Know'st thou the land where man scarce knows decay, 
 So nigh the realms of everlasting day ; 
 Wliere gleam the splendours of unsullied truth, 
 Where Durga smiles, and blooms eternal youth ? 
 Know'st thou it now? 
 
 Oh there ! oil there ! 
 To breathe the sweetness of that heavenly air ! 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 
 
 According to some people, and especially according to 
 the house-proprietors of Calcutta, who view its attrac- 
 tions with natural disfavour, Simla is a very sinful place 
 indeed ; and the residence there, during summer, of the 
 Viceroy and his members of Council ought to be dis- 
 couraged by a paternal Secretary of State for India. 
 The " Capua of India" is one of the terms which are 
 applied to it; we hear sometimes of "the revels upon 
 Olympus ; " and one of the papers seemed to imagine 
 that to describe anv official as "a malincrerer at Simla" 
 was sufficient to blast his future life. Even the roses 
 and the rhododendrons, the ctrav/berxies and che peaches, 
 of that " Circean retreat," come in for their share of 
 moral condemnation, as contributing to the undeserved 
 happiness of a thoughtless and voluptuous community. 
 For this view there is som.e show of justification. Simla 
 has no open law courts to speak of, or shipping, or mer- 
 cantile business, or any of the thousand incidents which 
 furnish so much matter to the newspapers of a great city. 
 The large amount of important governmental business 
 which is transacted there is seldom immediately made 
 known, and is usually first communicated to the public 
 in other places. Hence there is little for the newspaper 
 correspondents to write about except the gaieties of the 
 place ; and so the balls and picnics, the croquet and 
 badminton parties, the flirtations and rumoured engage- 
 ments, are given an importance which they do not 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 37 
 
 actually possess, and assume an appearance as if the 
 residents of Simla had nothing to do but to enjoy them- 
 selves and " to chase the glowing hours with flying feet." 
 But, in reality, the dissipation of Simla is not to be 
 compared with the dissipation of a London season ; and 
 if the doings of any English provincial town or large 
 watering-place in its season were as elaborately chron- 
 icled, and looked up to and magnified, maliciously or 
 otherwise, as those of the Indian Capua are, the record 
 would be of a much more scandalous and more impos- 
 ing kind. Indeed, unless society is to be put down alto- 
 gether,-or conducted on Quaker principles, it is difficult 
 to see how the Anglo-Indians, when they go to the hills, 
 could conduct themselves much otherwise than as they 
 do: and probably more in Simla than anywhere else there 
 exists the feeling that life would be tolerable were it not 
 for its amusements. After a hard day's office-work, or 
 after a picnic which involved a dozen miles' slow ride, 
 and a descent on foot for a thousand feet or so into a 
 hot valley like that of Mushobra, it is not by any means 
 pleasant to don full dress, to put waterproofs over that, 
 and to go on horseback or be carried in an uncomfortable 
 jJiampan for three or four miles, and in a raging storm 
 of wind, thunder, and rain, out to a biirra kJiana^ or big 
 dinner, which is succeeded in the same or in some other 
 house by a larger evening party. Combinations such as this 
 turn social enjoyment into a stern duty ; and as society 
 expects that every woman shall do her dut}^, the ladies 
 of Simla endure their amusements with the courage and 
 spirit of Englishwomen, who, for the sake of their sons 
 and brothers and husbands, even more than their own 
 sakes, are not going to be left behind in sacrificing aux 
 convenances. But no one who knows what European 
 society is will accuse Simla, of the present and preceding 
 Viceroyships at least, of being an abode of dissipation 
 
38 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 or of light morality. Wherever youth and beauty meet, 
 there will, no doubt, be a certain amount of flirtation, 
 even though the youth may be rather shaky from long 
 years of hard work in the hot plains of India, or from 
 that intangible malady which a friend styles as " too 
 much East," and though the beauty be often pallid and 
 passe ; but anything beyond that hardly exists at Simla 
 at all, and has the scantiest opportunity for developing 
 itself. Over-worked secretaries to Government, and 
 elderly members of Council, are not given either to in- 
 dulge in levity of conduct, or to wink at it in others ; the 
 same may be said of their ladies ; and the young officers 
 and civilians who go up to Simla for their leave ^are 
 usually far-seeing young men who have an eye to good 
 appointments, and, whatever their real character may be, 
 are not likely to spoil their chances of success b}^ attract- 
 ing attention to themselves as very gay Lotharios. 
 Moreover, at Simla, as almost everywhere in India, people 
 live under glass cases ; everything they do is known 
 to their native servants and to the native community, 
 who readily communicate their knowledge of such matters 
 to Europeans. Before the Mutiny, and perhaps for some 
 time after it, matters were somewhat different.' From 
 whatever cause, the natives, though they saw the doings 
 of the English in India, were as if they saw not, and, as 
 a rule, communicated their knowledge on the subject 
 only to each other. Now they not only see, but speak freely 
 enough ; and no immorality can be carried on in an 
 Indian station without its being known all over the 
 station, except, perhaps, in cases where the offenders 
 are exceedingly popular with the natives, or are in very 
 high powerful positions, or the party sinned against is 
 very much disliked. 
 
 Some sneers have been indulged in of late, even in 
 Parliament, at the alleged industry of members of the 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 39 
 
 Supreme Council and other officials to be found at 
 Simla, as if a certain amount of hospitality and of min- 
 gling in society were incompatible with leading a labo- 
 rious life. But if we except the soldiers and regi- 
 mental officers, it will be found that most of the English 
 in India, be they civilians, staff officers, educationalists, 
 surgeons, merchants, missionaries, or editors, are com- 
 pelled to live very laborious da}'s, whe'ther they may 
 scorn delights or not. A late Indian Governor, accus- 
 tomed to Parliamentary and Ministerial life in England,- 
 used to declare that he had never been required to work 
 so hard in London as he was in his comparatively 
 unimportant Presidency town. " Every one is over- 
 worked in India," was remarked to me by an Oudh 
 Director of Public Instruction, who was himself a not- 
 able instance of the assertion : and I have often had 
 occasion to notice how much overtasked Indian officials 
 of the higher grades are, and that in a country where 
 the mind works a good deal more reluctantly and slowly 
 than in Europe, and where there is very little pleasure 
 in activity of any kind for its own sake. It is absurd to 
 suppose that the immense task of Indian government 
 can be accomplished by the handful of Englishmen 
 there, without the greatest strain upon their individual 
 energies. Not only have they to do all the ordinary 
 work of a European Government — they have also them- 
 selves to fill the greater number of judicial, revenue, 
 and educational appointments, to construct public works, 
 to direct the police, to accomplish great part of the 
 work of governing which, in England, is performed 
 by hundreds of thousands of county gentlemen and 
 city magnates ; and over and above all that, it is expected 
 that they shall save the Indian people from the conse- 
 quences of famine, and be able to show every year that 
 they have elevated that people in the scale of humanity. 
 
40 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 The supervision of all this arduous labour — the per- 
 formance of a certain share of its details — the sitting in 
 judgment on numerous appeal cases of the most various 
 and complicated kind — the management of our relation- 
 ships with great native States both within and without 
 the Indian peninsula — the settlement of important ques- 
 tions of the most difficult kind — and by far the greater 
 share of the immense responsibilityof governing an alien 
 empire of nearly two hundred millions of people — all 
 this, and much more, falls upon the Supreme Govern- 
 ment, whether it be located at Calcutta or at Simla; 
 and to compel it to remain nearly all the year in the 
 unhealthy delta of the Ganges would be to burden it 
 with a good deal more than the straw which breaks the 
 camel's back. 
 
 It is obvious at Simla that the Supreme Government 
 has selected for its summer residence about the best 
 place to be found among the outer Himaliya. The 
 duties of the Government of India will not allow that 
 Government to bury itself in the interior of the great 
 mountains, where much more healthy spots are to be 
 found, or to select any place of residence far distant 
 from railway communication. As it is, the Viceroy, 
 with his staff, and all the members of Council, and the 
 secretaries to Government, could be at Ambala, on the 
 great railwa}--line, in about twe.ve hours after leaving 
 Simla, or even less on a push ; and fifty hours by rail 
 would take them to Calcutta, or sixty hours to Bombay. 
 They are in close proximity to the Panjab, and have the 
 railway from Ambala to Lahore and Miiltan, with 
 steamers from the latter place down the Indus to its 
 mouth or to Kotri, from whence there is a short line of 
 railway to the port of Karachi. Delhi, Agra, and all 
 the great cities of the north-west are within easy reach. 
 The}' are in much closer proximit}' to any cities and 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 41 
 
 districts likely to be dangerous than they would be at 
 Calcutta, and are also much nearer to the places which 
 give rise to difficult questions of policy. In old times it 
 was different ; but now, with the rail and telegraph going- 
 over the land, it is of little importance in which of a 
 hundred places the Indian Government may be situated; 
 but it is of great importance that its members should 
 not be unnecessarily exposed to the depressing and 
 destroying influence of the Indian hot season and rains. 
 It only remains to remove the headquarters of Govern- 
 ment from Calcutta to some more central position, such 
 as Agra or Allahabad ; and I fancy only financial con- 
 siderations stand in the way of that being done, for it 
 would involve the erection of a number of new Govern- 
 ment buildings. 
 
 Society everywhere in India labours under very great 
 disadvantages, and varies very much according to the 
 character of its ever-changing leaders. Sir Emerson 
 Tennent has observed that it is " unhappih^ the ten- 
 dency of small sections of society to decompose when 
 separated from the great vital mass, as pools stagnate 
 and putrefy when cut off from the invigorating flow of 
 the sea ;" and he adds that the process is variable, so 
 that a colonial society which is repulsive to-day may 
 be attractive to-morrow, or a contrary change may take 
 place with one or two departures or new arrivals. The 
 same holds good in India ; and though Indian society 
 can boast of some superiority to colonial (a superiority 
 which is amusingly asserted on board mail-steamers), 
 it has very great defects of its own, and in certain 
 circumstances degenerates into the intolerable. One 
 tendency of life in India is to create an immense 
 amount of conceit, and to make men assume airs of 
 superiority, not because of any superiority of mind or 
 character, or on account of great services rendered to 
 
42 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 the State, but simply because loner residence in the 
 country, or in some particular district of it, has given 
 them high appointments, or the advantage as regards 
 local knowledge. Then, though military society has 
 many good points, " discipline must be observed ;" 
 and it was in perfect good faith, and expressing his 
 own opinion, as well as that which he believed to be 
 generally entertained, that an old Indian remarked to 
 me, " We don't think much of any one's opinions 
 here until he is a lieutenant-colonel at least." Of 
 course in all countries opinions are often measured by 
 the position of the spokesman ; but in Europe that is 
 not so much the case as in India, and in our happier 
 climes it is easy to shun the society of snobs, Avhether 
 social or intellectual, without becoming a social pariah. 
 This social tendency is not corrected, but developed 
 rather than otherwise, by a close bureaucracy such as 
 the Indian Civil Service — and there is no other element 
 in the community sufficiently strong to correct it ; 
 while it is almost justified by the extraordinary effect 
 India has in rapidly producing intense conceit and in- 
 sufferable presumption among Europeans of a low 
 order of mind and character, whatever classes of the 
 community they may belong to. Nothing struck me 
 more in that country than the contrast between its 
 elevating and even ennobling effects on those Euro- 
 peans Avhose minds were above a certain level, and its 
 exactly contrary effects on almost all those who were 
 below that level. What, then, Indian society has 
 specially to struggle against are two apparently oppo- 
 site tendencies, — a slavish respect for mere position, 
 and for exceptional power and knowledge in parti- 
 cular directions ; and, on the other hand, excessive 
 individual conceit and presumption. But these evil 
 tendencies (which, curiously enough, belong also to 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 43 
 
 the Indian native character) are not opposed in any 
 such way as to counteract each other. On the con- 
 trary, they are apt to foster and inflame each other ; 
 because the old Indian justly sees that he has op- 
 posed to him an immense deal of ignorant presump- 
 tion which ought to be severely repressed, while the 
 democrat and the griffin instinctively feel that they 
 are oppressed by an amount of tyrannical old fogyism 
 which would not be allowed to exist in any other 
 country. The more acute English travellers see a 
 little of this state of matters ; but everything is made 
 as pleasant as possible to travellers in India with 
 good introductions ; and it is necessary to reside for 
 some time in thie country in order to understand what 
 an absolute nonentity a man is in himself, and how 
 entirely his importance, his accomplishments, his char- 
 acter, his value, and his very raison d'etre, depend on 
 the appointment which he holds. I do not at all 
 wonder at that old sergeant in a very out-of-the-way 
 place in the jungle, who, on being asked what he did 
 there, answered with some surprise, " Why, sir, I fills 
 the sitivation." In Anglo-India you not only fill the 
 situation ; it is the situation that fills you, and makes 
 you what you are, and without which you would im- 
 mediately collapse. 
 
 These observations are necessary to explain the great 
 superiority of Simla society, when I knew it, over the 
 society to be found in nearly all other places in India. 
 That superiority would not be accounted for merely by 
 the number of high officers collected there, whom a 
 process of selection had brought to the front. In a 
 community such as that of India, the two strong evil 
 tendencies which I have just noticed as specially exist- 
 ing there, are most effectually held in check when the 
 highest appointments are held by men of high intellect 
 
44 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 and good disposition, using the latter phrase so as to 
 exclude alike the pharisee and the prodigal. Whenever 
 the leaders of societ}' are essentially commonplace men, 
 whose only claim to distinction is that they fill the 
 situation, society degrades to a state which is almost 
 inconceivable in Europe. Everything is lost sight of 
 except the cunning faculty of serving the incompetent 
 ruling powers, so as to secure good appointments from 
 their hands. Then rises supreme an incompetent, unin- 
 tellectual, yet unscrupulous and overbearing element, 
 which has no sympathetic relationship to the great 
 sacrifices, the difficulties, and the future of our position 
 in India : where true gentlemanliness disappears, in- 
 tellect is undervalued, and genius is regarded as some- 
 thing like a stray panther or tiger. It is then that, 
 while the people of India are treated with excessive and 
 inexcusable arrogance, at the same time the most 
 necessary safeguards against mutiny and rebellion are 
 carelessly neglected ; and when popular commotions do 
 appear, they are allowed to gather head, and to reach a 
 dangerous height before anything like effective attempts 
 are made to deal with them. 
 
 In Simla, last year, the state of matters was very 
 different from that which I have just described. In 
 both the Viceroy and the Commander-in-Chief, India 
 had the good fortune to possess able and experienced' 
 noblemen, who thoroughly understood, and rose to the 
 level of, the higher responsibilities of their position. 
 This alone was sufficient to elevate the whole tone of 
 the society about them, in a community which so 
 readily answers to the guidance of its official leaders ; 
 and they had around them a considerable number of 
 able, conscientious, and high-minded Englishmen. I 
 was only at Simla during the month of May, but had 
 sufficient opportunity of observing that Lord North- 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 45 
 
 brook might be compared not unfavourably with many 
 of the greater Governor-Generals of India ; and that 
 the instinct of the people of the country, which had led 
 them to esteem and trust him almost from the com- 
 mencement of his Viceroyship, was by no means an 
 erroneous one. They are extremely acute, and won- 
 derfully just judges of character ; and I knew that 
 their opinion on this subject was shared by many of 
 the Englishmen who were best acquainted with India, 
 and most devoted to its interests. If the new Viceroy 
 did not equal Lord Mayo in charm of personal manner, 
 and in power of setting every one around him to work 
 energetically on their own lines, he possessed what is 
 more specially needed at present, more than Lord 
 Mayo's power of holding his great officers in hand, 
 and of refusing to allow their specialties and crotchets 
 being run to excess, and developed to the detriment 
 of India and of the imperial interests of Great Britain. 
 If he had not all Lord Elgin's experience and 
 large-minded dealing with the outlying questions 
 of English policy, he brought to bear upon them the 
 caution, the trained habits, the ceaseless, thoughtful 
 energy of an English statesman, in a manner which 
 colonial and Indian officials have little opportunity of 
 practising themselves in. If the insinuations of some 
 of the newspaper correspondents are true, he may be 
 deficient in Lord William Bentinck's aristocratic calm- 
 ness under criticism and judicial appreciation of the 
 value of the Indian press. But it is certain that India 
 has in him a Governor-General of high character and of 
 pure-minded unselfish disposition, which it can greatly 
 trust. I could not but be struck during my stay at 
 Simla with his genuineness of character, his clearness of 
 vision, and his unaffected kindness and consideration. 
 Even in two mistakes which, as it seemed to me, he 
 
46 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 has made, his errors were almost redeemed by his 
 manner of committing them. I allude to his approval 
 of the conduct of the Panjab officials towards Mr 
 Downes of the Church Mission, Avho made an attempt 
 to reach Kafiristan through the Kaubul territory ; and 
 to a social question which arose between Government 
 House and Major Fen wick of the Civil and Military 
 Gazette; but in both these cases Lord Northbrook 
 acted in an open manner, which excited the respect 
 even of some who most differed from his conclusions. 
 And though, of course, he is not infallible, many errors 
 of judgment are not to be expected from him., and are 
 more likely to arise from a supposed necessity of 
 backing up the action of his subordinates, than where 
 he himself originates the action. For there is a white 
 light in his mind which illuminates every object on 
 which it shines — a searching piercing light, proceeding 
 from the Viceroy's own mind, and not from the mere 
 focussing of other rays. There is something of genius 
 in this power which he possesses of lighting up a sub- 
 ject, and it is the more remarkable as existing in con- 
 junction with his precise business habits. It struck me 
 there was a tendency in his Excellency's mind to draw 
 rather too decided straight lines, even where conflicting 
 interests interlap ; but, truly, if he were to begin pon- 
 dering over matters as a many-sided Coleridge might 
 do, the public business of India would come to a dead 
 lock within twenty-four hours. If he had once formed 
 an opinion on any subject, I doubt if it would be easy 
 for him to renounce or modify it — though those who 
 know his Excellency well say that he is always ready 
 to do so whenever new facts relating to the matter come 
 before him ; but this rather supports my view ; because 
 in most great questions the difficulty is not so much to 
 get at the facts, as to perceive their relationships, and 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 47 
 
 to take these latter into one comprehensive judicial 
 view. The amount of business which he p-oes throuo-h 
 is remarkable ; and more than Lord Amherst was, he is 
 entitled to say with some surprise, " The Emperor of 
 China and I govern half the human race, and yet we 
 find time to breakfast ;" for he is exceedingly regardful 
 of the courtesies, and of even something more than the 
 courtesies, of his trying and responsible position. We 
 do not hear so much of Lord Northbrook's feats on 
 horseback as we did of tliose of his predecessor; but 
 they are not less remarkable. It is only about fift}--two 
 miles from Simla to Kotgarh ; but the nature of the 
 bridle-road is such, and it runs along the top of so 
 many precipices, that it is rather a feat to ride over it in 
 less than a day; and I have also heard of his Lordship 
 riding from Chini to Narkunda in a dangerously short 
 period. I may also note the Viceroy's habit of walk- 
 ing' about unguarded, accompanied by a single friend ; 
 and have heard of his being seen alone with his son, or 
 some other youth, after dark, close to the Ganges, near 
 Barrackpore, This may be thought unwise courage ; 
 but though undoubtedly courage, I am not sure that 
 it is unwise; for really life is not worth having on the 
 condition of its being constantly guarded. The class 
 of men who violently assassinate in India admire this 
 kind of courage so much that they will not readily 
 strike at it; and most cases of assassination which 
 occur in that country have been committed in spite of 
 the close protection of guards. It is doubtful, however, 
 if it be wise to have Simla so unprotected as it appears 
 to be. I do not remember seeing a single European 
 soldier there, unless the Governor-General's band be 
 accounted as such. The only representatives of law 
 and order visible were two European police-officers, a 
 few native policemen, and the Governor-General's 
 
48 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 native body-guard. It would not have been difficult to 
 have extinguished the whole Government of India in 
 one night ; and a danger of that sort, however remote 
 and unlikely, ought to be guarded against. Nothing in 
 India was held to be more unlikely than the Mutiny, 
 until it occurred, and even after it had commenced. 
 
 At the close of this Parliament, Her Majesty has ac- 
 knowledged the great services of Lord Northbrook, in- 
 connection with the Bengal famine, in a manner which 
 could scarcely have come from a Ministry opposed to 
 that which appointed him, unless his " strenuous exer- 
 tions " had really merited very "high approbation." It 
 is now seen by the public generally that he has met the 
 great and disturbing disaster of the famine in a masterly 
 manner. When he was exerting himself to the utmost, 
 it Avas inexpedient for the Viceroy to speak of the 
 measures he was taking to meet the coming calamity, 
 and advantage was taken of his mouth being sealed, and 
 of his having wisely refused to prohibit the export of 
 rice, to criticise and assail him. Whether intentionally 
 or not, an impression was created that the Viceroy did 
 not see the magnitude of the danger, and would not of 
 himself take energetic and sufficient steps to meet it. 
 Highly sensational telegrams and articles to this effect 
 appeared in rapid succession ; and it was left out of 
 mind that, on the very first report of danger, Lord 
 Northbrook hurried down from Simla to Calcutta before 
 the conclusion of the unhealthiest month of the year, 
 and at once brought all his great energy to bear on the 
 subject of the famine. He could not proclaim from the 
 housetops any intention of buying up millions on mil- 
 lions of tons of rice, and, if necessary, of feeding two and 
 a half millions of people for an indefinite period ; because, 
 to have done so, would have vastly increased the diffi- 
 culty, by making the bunnias throughout India buy and 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 49 
 
 store up rice right and left, and by creating a great 
 movement into the famine districts of people desirous of 
 participating in the bounty of Government. Also, as 
 the event has shown, while making perfectly sufficient 
 arrangements to meet the coming famine, the Vicero}^ 
 refused, on sound economic grounds, to interfere with 
 and check private trade, by prohibiting the export of 
 rice from Bengal ; and this was immediately seized upon 
 as a proof that he did not understand the magnitude of 
 the coming crisis, and that he required to be instructed, 
 warned, and brought up to a sense of duty by his bene- 
 volent and omniscient critics. It was most fortunate ior' 
 India that at this crisis a thoughtful statesman was at 
 the head of affairs, and one of sufficient force of charac- 
 ter to disregard the outcry which was raised against him. 
 An excellent authority on the spot, as quoted by the 
 Calcutta correspondent of the Times, has well said : " It 
 will not be denied, that had it not been for the action 
 taken by Government, the mortality would have been 
 very great. But I am convinced that it is equally true, 
 that had Government action been of a nature to check 
 private trade to any extent, the result would also have 
 been calamitous. ... I firmly believe, that had Govern- 
 ment, last November, proclaimed to the world that they 
 intended to rely solely on their own unaided efforts to 
 save the people from starvation, the result would have 
 been deplorable, both financially and in respect to the 
 loss of life zvliick woidcl have ensued^ This is another 
 very important view of the matter, and is. by no means 
 opposed to what I have said about the bunnias ; because 
 they would have bought and stored grain, in order to 
 sell it to the Government, rather than with a view to the 
 difficult and risky operation of conve}'ing it into the 
 famine districts. The Viceroy had also to guard against 
 the danger of inviting or allowing the people within the 
 
5.0 THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 famine circle to rely too much on Government aid, which 
 the natives of India are always most ready to do. 
 
 The crisis of the Bengal famine of 1874 has now 
 passed, and it is difficult to know whether to admire 
 most the manner in which Lord Northbrook and Sir 
 Richard Temple have dealt with it so as to prevent 
 almost any loss of life, or their success in managing- the 
 relief operations, so as to avoid pauperising, or otherwise 
 demoralising the people, and so as to bring them readily 
 back to their ordinary industrial operations. The first 
 of these feats was entirely new in the history of India ; 
 the second was still more difficult of accomplishment ; 
 its success presents both rulers and ruled in the most 
 pleasing light, and is a new illustration of the readiness 
 of the people of India to appreciate and conjoin with 
 action on the part of Englishmen, which is at once sym- 
 pathetic and decided. Large powers are necessary to 
 deal with them in a satisfactory manner, and, to that 
 end, these powers must be exercised with knowledge of 
 the necessities and wishes of the people, and yet with a 
 confidence and decision which are only accepted and 
 only tolerable when springing from a just conviction that 
 the action undertaken and insisted upon is in accordance 
 with the highest intelligence and morality. 
 
 But, though unwilling t6 enter here on the general 
 subject of Indian policy, I must guard against appear- 
 ing, even for a moment, to support the limited view 
 which some of Lord Northbrook's admirers and critics 
 take of the course which is marked out for him as 
 Governor- General of our great Eastern Empire, and 
 must make a few general remarks, which, though brief, 
 are of cardinal moment. According to that view, the 
 only matter of essential importance for India is to reduce 
 its expenditure, and to keep that steadily within the 
 .limits of the revenue which may be afforded by the pre- 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 51 
 
 sent recognised and understood taxation. It is assumed, 
 that if that only be done, everything will go well — there 
 will be no disaffection in India; and a grateful populace 
 will ornament us with garlands of yellow flowers, feast 
 us upon pan siipdri, and shower blessings upon our 
 honoured heads. I believe that a greater mistake could 
 not be made, and that this would be only another side of 
 Lord Lawrence's policy of "masterly imbecility," which 
 has thrown Central Asia into the hands of Russia. 
 Economy and strict financial management are very 
 necessary in India, and the Viceroy has clearly seen 
 that, and has addressed himself to the task with extra- 
 ordinary skill, energy, self-abnegation, and success. But 
 if there is a matter on which the people of India are 
 likely to overvalue his services and urge him to excess, 
 it is on that of financial economy. No one admires 
 more than I do their many admirable qualities, but 
 among these financial wisdom cannot be reckoned. 
 They have no objections to a native prince levying the 
 most enormous and oppressive taxation in very hurtful 
 time-honoured ways, and spending it in the most reck- 
 less, useless, and debauching manner. He may take 
 half the produce of their fields, and lavish it on dancing- 
 girls, devotees, beggars, and in support of degrading 
 superstitions, and they are 'perfectly satisfied; but let 
 the English Government incur a productive new ex- 
 * penditure, or impose a new tax of the least hurtful kind, 
 and they are the most oppressed and afflicted beings in 
 the world. We hear a great deal about India being a 
 poor country — and that is a statement which should be 
 taken with much qualification, for the concealed or 
 hoarded treasure of India must be something enor- 
 mous ; but in so far as India is a poor country, how and 
 why is it poor ,? It is poor, not from any sterility of its 
 Boil or scantiness of its products, or from any incapacity 
 
52 
 
 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 of labouring or acquiring knowledge among its people : 
 in these respects it is one of the most favoured lands on 
 earth. It is poor because it loves to lie down and 
 dream, rather than to rise up and work ; because it 
 hoards its wealth — buries it in the ground, or sits upon 
 it — in preference to turning it to profitable use ; be- 
 cause, except where the pride of noble families produces 
 female infanticide, it not only exercises no restraint 
 upon the, increase of population, but even, in accord- 
 ance with its religious ideas, regards any increase, how- 
 ever reckless, as partaking of the merit of a religious 
 act ; and because it is absolutely eaten up by non-pro- 
 ductive classes of people — priests, devotees, beggars, 
 retainers, family dependants, and princes and nobles of 
 many fallen dynasties. The most energetic and the 
 richest country in the world could not stand what India 
 not only bears but welcomes, without bringing itself to 
 poverty ; and if all the English Raj is to do for India is 
 to add another class of unfortunates to it, in the shape 
 of overworked and underpaid European officials, with 
 their descendants, then I can only say that the English 
 Raj is extremely likely to have soon to make way for 
 that of Russia or Germany. The essential considera- 
 tion has been lost sight of, that either we ought to be in 
 India as a nation, in our imperial capacity, or ought not 
 to be there at all. A spurious philanthropy (the real 
 ' motive of which has too often been the difficulty the 
 civilians have had in dealing with the independency of 
 character of outside Englishmen, and with their some- 
 times irrational and brutal humours) has only resulted 
 in pushing forward a class of natives who exercise no 
 influence over the people, are entirely mistrusted by. 
 them, and who cannot but regard us with hatred. At 
 the same time, we have ignored the primary duty of 
 providing that the work of governing and elevating 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 53 
 
 India shall not be ruinous to those who are engaged in 
 it, or to their descendants. Hence the creation of a 
 large and ever-increasing class of poor whites and half- 
 castes, who are a scandal to the Christian name and the 
 white race, having been forced by circumstances to 
 depths of misery and depravity unknown among the 
 jungle tribes, and hence the painful fact that the large 
 towns of India contain a number of respectable, fairly 
 educated English and Eurasian people who are at their 
 wits' end how to live. The financial question is chiefly 
 a negative one, meaning the suppression of jobbery and 
 folly. The lasting reputation of a Governor-General 
 will depend on the services he has rendered in saving 
 India from itself, in developing its grand capacities, 
 and in making it an integral and valuable constituent 
 of the British Empire. 
 
 The famine has also vindicated the character of a 
 high officer who last year was looked upon with not a 
 little disfavour. Chiefly owing to his connection with 
 the income-tax, no one was more unpopular in India 
 than Sir Richard Temple, then the financial member of 
 Council, but now the Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal ; 
 and if he were the popularity-hunter which some people 
 Xancy him to be, he would have taken care not to asso- 
 ciate himself with so obnoxious a tax. In various 
 appointments, but especially as secretary to the Panjab 
 Government and as Commissioner of the Central Pro- . 
 vinces, Sir Richard had proved himself to be an officer 
 of very great ability and of- the rarest energy. In the 
 Central Provinces, development, which was forced on by 
 circumstances, and which might well have occupied a 
 century, had to be provided for and regulated within a 
 few years ; and this was admirably effected by the 
 Commissioner, so as to gain for him the very highest 
 repute as an organiser and administrator. It is some- 
 
54 THE ABOD:^ OF SNOW. 
 
 times said that he has great powers of using other men's 
 brains ; but that is really one of the most important 
 qualities for a high Indian official, as for all leaders of 
 mankind, and I never heard the slightest complaint 
 made on that score by the men whose brains he had 
 used. On the contrary, they said he had made a legiti- 
 mate and the best use of their work, and was always 
 ready to advance the fortunes of those who served under 
 him — a generosity which is seldom, if ever, displayed by 
 humbugs and men of small calibre, I thoroughly be- 
 lieve that the income-tax was a most unsuitable tax for 
 India, and that Lord Northbrook rendered a great 
 service by putting an end to it, let me hope, for all time; 
 because it brought in an insignificant sum (to the Gov- 
 ernment), did not touch the really wealthy classes, and 
 caused an immense dealof oppression and irritation: and 
 I should doubt the legislative capacity and higher states- 
 manship of any one who upheld the income-tax in India, 
 and do not think Sir Richard Temple showed to advan- 
 tage as a financier and member of Council ; but the 
 Bengal famine has happily served to display his great 
 powers. One of his invaluable qualities as an adminis- 
 trator is his extraordinary and almost instinctive know- 
 ledge of character. He is said— and I can well believe 
 it — never to make a mistake in choosing his agents, 
 almost never to overlook a man of ability who comes 
 within his sphere, or to set men to unsuitable work. 
 One of the correspondents of the home press, seeing Sir 
 Richard at work in the famine districts, well remarked 
 that nature seemed to have intended him for the com- 
 mand of a great army. - His reticence and almost taci- 
 turnity struck me as a very agreeable variety from the 
 pomposity of certain Bombay officials, who turned up 
 the whites of their eyes, and really appeared to become 
 ill, when any one whom they imagined did not stand 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 55 
 
 upon their own fancied level spoke to them consecutively 
 for half a minute. Sir Richard does not imagine that 
 wisdom of every kind, or even a knowledge of India, is 
 confined to his own bosom, and is more anxious to learn 
 the opinions of others than to volunteer his own. This 
 is a very frequent characteristic of great men of action ; 
 and another impression which they leave, and one he 
 conveys, is that of possessing a large fund of reserve 
 power. I may add that, like Lord Northbrook, he 
 practises as an amateur painter, besides having time to 
 take his breakfast ; and some of his sketches struck me 
 as showing a very remarkable power of understanding 
 and artistically reproducing the life of trees. He has 
 also done much to promote archaeological research in 
 India, and almost every kind of intellectual develop- 
 ment. 
 
 The new financial member of Council is Sir William 
 Muir, whom I have already alluded to in his position as 
 Governor of the North-West Provinces. No member of 
 the Civil Service is more generally respected, or could 
 be more valuable in the consultative department of the 
 Indian Government. An accomplished oriental scholar, 
 especially in Mohammedan literature and history, he is 
 equally distinguished as an administrator. Though Sir 
 William is cautious, and what is called " a safe man," 
 yet as a Lieutenant-Governor he showed that, when his 
 ripe judgment was convinced, he could take a course of 
 his own ia direct opposition to the strong tendencies of 
 the Supreme Government. Notably this was the case 
 in regard to the income-tax, to the oppressive working 
 of which he called attention in the most eff'ective manner, 
 at a time when the higher powers were determined that 
 it should appear only in a roseate light. In the North- 
 West Provinces, however, while personally liked, much 
 animosity was excited, especially among non-official 
 
56 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 Englishmen, by what was considered to be his undue 
 favouritism towards what are called the educated natives 
 I was somewhat surprised at the depth and fierceness 
 of the resentment which had thus been excited. One 
 man, in a responsible position, went so far as to say that 
 the next rebellion in India would be on the part of the 
 Europeans and Eurasians, and that, when such a move- 
 ment arose, every English soldier who had been six 
 months in the country would be on their side. This 
 may appear very absurd to Indian officials, who know 
 little of the passions raging in the hearts of the people 
 round them, whether natives or Europeans ; but I think 
 there is something in it, and that it correctly enough 
 indicates the existence of feelings which are not without 
 some ground. Another remark of this man, who was 
 educated, shrewd, and had a wide and varied experience 
 of the world, is worth noting, without attaching to it 
 more importance than it deserves. He said : " The 
 civilians think that India was made for themselves and 
 the natives alone, and it is becoming every day more 
 impossible for non-official Englishmen to live in the 
 country ; but the natives are discovering that the civilians 
 are quite unnecessary also, and it will end in our all 
 having to go together — the Englishmen to England, and 
 the natives to massacre, famine, and pestilence," 
 
 Of the Commander-in-chief in India, Lord Napier of 
 Magdala, it would be difficult to write in terms of too 
 high praise. His capacities as a soldier are well known, 
 having been abundantly proved in India, Ab}-ssinia, and 
 China ; and his thoughtful care for the well-being of the 
 troops under his command, and great consideration for 
 the most of those with whom he comes in contact, have 
 made him hosts of friends. I say " the most" advisedly ; 
 for Lord Napier has the character of being a good hater. 
 Like Lord Northbrook also, he has a very keen sense in 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 57 
 
 detecting humbug in any one — perhaps too keen a sense 
 for the present state of human development— and is apt 
 to act upon it occasionally in a manner unpleasant to 
 the person in whom he detects it ; but that is only after 
 he has made up his mind against a man. I had come 
 across his Excellency before, on the march to Peking, 
 and was struck by his vivid recollection, after so many 
 years, of the China Englishmen who accompanied the 
 Peking expedition, and by his happy manner of sketch- 
 ing off their peculiarities. One man was "always pro- 
 ducing dead birds out of his innumerable pockets ;" 
 another " had a way of disappearing for days among 
 the Chinese, and throwing the whole expedition into 
 anxiety for his safety," — and so on. Notwithstanding 
 his long and laborious services in India, there seemed 
 no failing, either of mental power or ph}'sical endurance, 
 in the Commander-in-chief; and the officers at Simla 
 said he could easily take the field again, as his conduct 
 at the camps of exercise sufficiently proved. He has 
 the eagle eye of a great soldier, and when he retires from 
 India, he may render great services to the State in con- 
 nection with the English army and its organisation. I 
 should think no commander ever was a greater favourite 
 with his troops, or knew them better, or knew better 
 how to manage them, or devoted himself to their wel- 
 fare in a more persistent or more enlightened manner. 
 At the dinner given to Lord Napier by the Anglo- 
 Indians in London, on the occasion of his having been 
 created a peer, he said, in efTect, and almost in these 
 words — " I landed in India a young officer of Engineers, 
 with only my sword, and now it has come to this." 
 There was a simplicity and an honest healthy pride in 
 the remark, which had nothing of vanity in it. I have 
 met men who thought that, as peerages go, he had got 
 his peerage rather easily by the Abyssinian war ; but I 
 
58 THE ABODE 'OF SNOW. 
 
 never heard any even of these critics grudge it to him in 
 the least. It is true that the China war of 1863 was 
 scarcely less difhcult or brilliant, and was productive of 
 more important results ; and the fact that Sir Hope 
 Grant got no high reward for his skilful and humane 
 conduct of it goes some way to prove that Sir Robert 
 Napier was fortunate in the time and circumstances of 
 his Abyssinian campaign ; but he was under a great 
 temptation to enter on that campaign without the 
 means necessary to carry it to a successful conclusion. 
 Many an ofhcer would have snatched at the opportunity 
 without stipulating for all the requisite means ; and, even 
 as it was, the most skilful use of them was necessary to 
 accomplish the end which the expedition had in view, if 
 not to save it from absolute ruin. It should be borne in 
 mind, also, that Lord Napier's command in Abyssinia 
 was only the last of a series of brilliant and valuable 
 services which had commenced almost from his landing 
 at Calcutta, fresh from Addiscombe, forty-six years ago. 
 In the battles and sieges of the Panjab; as chief engineer 
 of that province, when so much had to be done upon 
 its transfer to English rule ; as chief engineer of Lord 
 Clyde's army during the Mutiny ; in the pursuit of 
 Tantia Topee ; in China, where he planned the capture 
 of the Taku Forts, and was second in command of the 
 expedition ; and in Bombay as Commander-in-chief, — 
 the officer of whom I write had rendered services which 
 might have made half a dozen great reputations ; so 
 that, even as peerages go, his was fully due by the time 
 he had taken the heights of Magdala. I was much 
 indebted to his Excellency and his military secretary, 
 Colonel Dillon, for maps, advice, &c., in regard to my 
 Tibetan journey; and their genuine kindness of disposi- 
 tion at once established confidence and gave a charm 
 to all intercourse with them. The relationship between 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 59 
 
 these two distinguished officers has been a long and 
 close one. Colonel Dillon's popularity is somewhat 
 diminished by the fact that devotion to his work hardly 
 allows of his going into society ; but his value to tiie 
 Commander-in-chief, and to the Indian army, is very 
 great. 
 
 Of the other Simla celebrities whom I had the plea- 
 sure to meet with I can only write briefly. Mr C, U. 
 Aitchison, the Foreign Secretary, has more of the Euro- 
 pean statesman about him than almost any other Indian 
 civilian ; and one cannot fail to see that he has a great 
 deal of weight of brain, and of that quality which is 
 most easily described by the phrase " long-headedness." 
 He was one of the very first of the competition-wallahs. 
 Some very excellent men came forward at first under 
 the competition system, and continue to do so occasion- 
 ally ; but of late the system has become one of cram, 
 and the best men from the universities and elsewhere 
 are chary of entering into a competition in which suc- 
 cess can only be hoped for by disregarding the aims and 
 methods of a liberal education, and putting one's self 
 under a system of mental development analogous to the 
 physical training which Strasburg geese are compelled 
 to undergo. Lord Dalhousie, who had a keen eye for 
 young men of ability, selected Mr Aitchison as his pri- 
 vate secretary at an early period of the latter's career, 
 and few positions can afford so wide and complete a 
 view of the methods and results of the Indian Govern- 
 ment. The heavy crushing work of the Foreign Office 
 has been borne by Mr Aitchison in a manner which 
 proves his tenacity of purpose and strength of constitu- 
 tion ; but there is too much reason to believe that its 
 overwhelming demands had undermined the strength of 
 Mr Le Poer Wynne, one of the most accomplished and 
 promising of the younger Indian officials, whose sudden 
 
6o THE ABODE OF SNOW. ' 
 
 death, a few months ago, deprived Mr Aitchison of one 
 of the most useful and valued of his associates in the 
 Foreign Office. Mr Chapman, the Financial Secretary, 
 is a fine specimen of the bluff, independent English 
 gentleman, who will take his own way wherever pos- 
 sible, and fearlessly avow and carry out his opinions. 
 He also upheld the unhappy income-tax ; but in other 
 questions his usually sound judgment and independence 
 of character have proved most useful, especially in the 
 stand he has made against the Ritualists — or Anglo- 
 Catholics, as they prefer to be called — who had become 
 more daring and triumphant in India than they had ever 
 been in England. Mr Forsyth, when I was at Simla, 
 was preparing for his second Yarkund mission, and I 
 did no more than make his acquaintance, but was struck 
 by a certain lofty protesting manner he had; for he was 
 still under the cloud of the Kuka executions, and of the 
 sentence of removal from his commissionership, and of 
 general disapproval of his conduct in connection with 
 the Kukas, passed upon him by the Government of 
 India, when its ruling spirit was Sir John Strachey, in 
 the period between the Viceroyships of Lord Mayo and 
 Lord Northbrook. The ex-commissioner, however, has 
 now performed his pilgrimage ; he has washed away 
 his sins, real or alleged, in the sacred waters of the 
 Yangi Hissar, and, as Sir Thomas Forsyth, clothed in the 
 garments of a Knight of the Star of India, he can move 
 again freely in the arena of Indian politics. I saw a 
 good deal more of the lamented Dr Stolicza, and well 
 remember his saying, in a common foreign idiom, " I 
 am awfulh' glad that I have been allowed to go to Yar- 
 kund." He was destined never to return from the sterile 
 regions of Central Asia ; but perhaps, as human life 
 goes, even that was a reason for being glad. I was sur- 
 prised to find so youthful a figure in the vir sapiens, 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 6i 
 
 docfissimns, Dr W. W. Hunter, who has been harassing 
 the souls of Indian officials and editors by his system 
 of spelling-, which, however, is his only in that he has 
 modified a long existent system, practically applied it, 
 and carried it out for the Government. This gentleman is 
 as agreeable in societ}^ as in his charming books, and it 
 is only to be regretted that he does not trust more 
 entirely to his culture and talents for both social and 
 official success. Major Fenwick, the journalist, who 
 makes Simla his headquarters, is a man of bold, inde- 
 pendent spirit, with an immense amount of humour, a 
 lively imagination, and great literary knowledge. In 
 the Rev. John Fordyce, of the Union Church, I found 
 an old friend, who had created a high reputation for 
 himself by his combination of prudence and zeal. Nor 
 can I omit to make mention of Mr Edmund Downes, 
 whose courageous attempt to reach Kafiristan in dis- 
 guise had brought him into public notice ; and of two 
 Bombay officers, Colonels Ker and Farquharson, who 
 did a great deal to make my stay at Simla agreeable. 
 
 The hill on which Simla is situated was first made 
 known by the visit to it in 1 8 1 7 of the brothers Gerard, 
 two Scotch officers who were engaged in the survey of 
 the Sutlej valley ; and the first house was built upon it 
 in 1822 by the political agent of the district. About 
 that latter year it was purchased, by exchange, by the 
 British Government, from the Rana of Keonthul, and 
 made into a regular sanitarium. The first Governor- 
 General who visited it was Lord Amherst, in 1827. 
 Jacquemont described it as having sixty houses for 
 Europeans in 1831; and Lord Auckland was the first 
 Governor-General to spend a summer there — that of 
 J 841. The annexation of the Panjab gave a great im- 
 petus to the development of this hill-station. Lord 
 Dalhousie liked to establish the headquarters of his 
 
62 ' THE ABODE OF SNOW, 
 
 government there in summer, because that allowed him 
 to reside much during the rains in the drier region of 
 Chini, which suited his health. Lord Lawrence accepted 
 the Viceroyship on the express condition that he should 
 be allowed to spend the summer on the hills, Simla 
 being the most convenient spot ; and thus the arrange- 
 ment has continued, except that the exigencies of the 
 Bengal famine have led the Supreme Government to 
 remain in Calcutta this year. In the height of the 
 season Simla has now usually a population of about 
 fifteen hundred Europeans, and as many thousand 
 natives. In a former chapter I have briefly described its 
 general appearance and surrounding scenery. One of 
 its drawbacks is a deficiency in the supply of water; 
 but this might easily be remedied at some expense, 
 and probably would be if the house-proprietors were 
 assured that the Supreme Government intended to con- 
 tinue its summer residence there ; though I do not 
 quite see how that doubt should be allowed to have so 
 much influence, because many of them argue that the 
 example of Masuri has shown that Simla might flourish 
 even if it were unvisited by any Government, and might 
 thus secure a less uncertain income. The permanent 
 residents of the place are enthusiastic in their praises of 
 its winter climate, and that is realh' the only season 
 of the year in which Simla is calculated to do much 
 positive good to invalids, the cold then not being ex- 
 treme, while the air is still dry, and both invigora- 
 ting and exhilarating ; but it is as a retreat in the hot 
 weather of April and May, and of the rains, that it is 
 most used, and I do not know that much can be said in 
 its praise as a sanitarium during that long season. Of 
 course it is a great thing to escape from the fiery heat 
 of the Indian plains in April and May, and from their 
 muggy oppressive warmth during the five succeeding 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 63 
 
 months ; but that is about the extent of the sanitary 
 advantages of Simla in summer, and the climate then 
 has serious drawbacks of its own. I derived no benefit 
 from it, nor did any of the invalids there with whom I 
 was acquainted ; and its effects upon some of them were 
 such that they had to leave before the stay they had 
 marked out for themselves had been accomplished. In 
 May the climate was exceedingly changeable, being 
 sometimes oppressively hot, but for the most part cold 
 and damp, with thick mists and fierce storms of thunder 
 and rain. And when the great rains of the south-west 
 monsoon set in upon Simla, there must be few invalids 
 indeed for whom it can be a suitable place of residence ; 
 and I should think at that season, or for nearly four 
 months of the year, a state of almost robust health 
 must be necessary in order to derive benefit or enjoy- 
 ment from a stay there. It would be well if more 
 invalids at that season followed the example of the 
 great Lord Dalhousie and went up to Chini, or to some 
 other place, where they are close to eternal snow, and 
 are protected by a snowy range from the Indian mon- 
 soon. 
 
 Whether the traveller be in search of healtlj, or 
 sport, or sublime scenery, there is no other place from 
 which he can have such convenient access as Simla to 
 the interior of the Himaliya, and to the dry elevated 
 plains of Central Asia. Routes proceed from it up to 
 Chinese Tibet on the east ; to Ladak and the upper 
 Indus valley; beyond Ladak to the Karakorum Moun- 
 tains and Yarkund ; to Spiti, Lahaul, Zanskar, and all 
 the elevated provinces of the Western Himaliya; to 
 Chamba and all the other hill-states to the north-west ; 
 and to Kashmir, Little Tibet, Gilgit Yassin, and the 
 " Roof of the World " itself. Indeed, now that the 
 Russians have established a post-office at Kashgar, it 
 
64 • THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 would be quite possible, and tolerably safe, to walk 
 from Simla to St Petersburg, or to the mouth of the 
 Amur on the Pacific coast. Those who wish parti- 
 cularly to know what can be done from Simla will do 
 well to examine the " Route Map for the Western Hima- 
 liyas, Kashmir, Panjab, and Northern India," compiled 
 by Major Montgomerie of the Great Trigonometrical 
 Survey of India. In the appendix to this map he gives 
 no less than sixty-three routes, almost all of which 
 either proceed from. Simla, or are connected with it by 
 intervening routes. It will soon be seen, from the 
 Major's remarks on these various routes, that the travel- 
 ler in the Himaliya must lay aside his ordinary ideas as 
 to roads and house accommodation. Such references as 
 the following to the roads and halting-places for the 
 night, occur with a frequency which is rather alarming to 
 the uninitiated : " No supplies ; " "ditto, and no fuel ;" 
 " cross three miles of glacier ;" " ver}^ bad road ; " " ditto, 
 and no supplies ; " " road impassable for ponies ; "rope 
 bridge ; " "cross the river twice — very difficult to ford;" 
 *' Kirghiz summer camp — yaks, &c., supplied ;" "site of 
 a deserted village ; " " muddy water only can be got by 
 digging holes ;" "grass doubtful, no fuel ;" "ford river, 
 water up to waist ;" " cross river on mussaks ; " " gene- 
 rally a Tartar or Boti camp;" "cross the Tagalank 
 Pass, 18,042 feet; '' and "cross several torrents." 
 
 The great routes from Simla are those which lead 
 to Chinese Tibet, to Ladak, and to Kashmir, and run 
 from north-east to north-west. The road towards 
 Chinese Tibet, at least as far as Chini and Pangay in 
 the Sutlej valley, is that which is most affected by 
 tourists, because it is a cut road on which a jhanipan 
 can be carried, and because it has bungalows which 
 were constructed for the road engineers, and are avail- 
 able for all European travellers. Shipki in Chinese 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 65 
 
 Tibet is only about eight marches be}-ond Pangay, but 
 the road is so dreadful that {^.w travellers care to go 
 beyond the latter place ; and those who do, avoid the 
 Chinese border and turn northward towards Leh in 
 Ladak by Hango, Lio, the Parangla Pass, and the 
 Tsho Morari Lake. There is a more direct route 
 from Simla to Leh, along a cut road or bridle-path, 
 through the Kiilu valley, over the Rotang Pass, and 
 then through Lahaul, and over the Barra Lacha Pass. 
 The directest route from Simla to Kashmir is that by 
 way of Belaspur, Kangra, Badrawar, and the Braribal 
 Pass, and occupies only about thirty-one marches; but 
 it is rather uninteresting, and enterprising travellers 
 prefer to go round by Leh, qr to follow some of the 
 many ways there are of passing through the sublimer 
 scenery of the Himaliya. 
 
 It is comparatively easy to go from Simla direct, 
 either to Chinese Tibet or to Kashmir; but to take 
 in both these termini in one journey is a more difficult 
 problem. That was what I wished to accomplish, and 
 to have come down again from the Chinese border 
 towards Simla, and then gone up to Kashmir by one 
 of the directer routes would have brought me into the 
 region of the Lidian monsoon at a season when it was 
 at its height, and when it would have rendered hill tra- 
 velling almost impossible for me. What then seemed 
 the proper thing for me to do, after touching the terri- 
 tory of the Grand Lama, was to keep as high up as 
 possible among the inner Himaliya, and to see if I 
 could reach Kashmir in that wa}% without descending 
 either into hot or rainy regions. I could not get any 
 information as to considerable portions of my proposed 
 march ; but, as it turned out, I was able to go all the 
 way from Shipki in Chinese Tibet to the Sind valley 
 in upper Kashmir, along the whole line of the Western 
 
66 THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 Himaliya, if not exactly over the tops of them, yet 
 something very hke that, through a series of elevated 
 valle\'s, for the most part about 12,000 feet high, with 
 passes ranging up to 18,000 feet. Thus, passing 
 through Hangrang, Spiti, Lahaul, Zanskar, Suru, and 
 Dras, I never required to descend below 10,000 feet, 
 and very seldom below 12,000; and, though travelling 
 -in the months of the Indian monsoon, I met with 
 hardly any rain, and enjoyed a most bracing and ex- 
 hilarating Climate, together with the great privilege of 
 beholding the wildest, sublimest scenery of the Hima- 
 liya, and making acquaintance with the most secluded 
 and primitive of its people. 
 
 I must hurry on, however, to the events of my own 
 journex'; but before treating of them, it may be well, in 
 order to make these events intelligible, to say some- 
 thing about what is necessary for travellers in the 
 Himaliya. Journeying among these giant mountains is 
 a somewiiat serious business, and yet it is not so serious 
 as it probably appears to those who have had no ex- 
 perience of it. In Switzerland, when essaying icy peaks 
 and crossing snowy passes, we never get farther off than 
 a day or two from some grand hotel, where all the com- 
 forts, and many of the luxuries, of civilisation are to be 
 found; and even then considerable preparations have 
 to be made for remaining two or three days be\-ond 
 human habitations, and for sleeping in a cave or hollow 
 of the rock. But for a journey like mine, in the inner 
 Himali\-a, extending over months, the preparations 
 which have to be made are of rather an alarming kind. 
 House, furniture, kitchen, cooking-pots, bed, bedding, a 
 certain proportion of our food, and all our potables, ex- 
 cept v/ater, have to be carried with us, for the most of 
 the way on the shoulders of men or women; and, in my 
 •xase, the affair was complicated b}' my having to be 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 67 
 
 carried also ; for, at starting-, I was unable to walk a 
 hundred yards, or to mount a horse. Almost no bun- 
 galows were to be met with beyond the first fourteen 
 marches up to Pangay ; in a considerable portion of the 
 country to be traversed the people will not allow Euro- 
 peans to occupy their houses — and even if they did, 
 motives of comfort and health would dictate a tent, ex- 
 cept in very severe weather; for the houses are ex- 
 tremely dirty and ill-ventilated, and the mountaineers 
 are covered with vermin. Of course, too, one is far 
 more independent in a tent; and there is no comparison 
 between the open camp, under trees, or the protection 
 of some great rock, and a low-roofed, dark, unventi- 
 lated, dirty room alive with insects. 
 
 A tent, then, is the first necessity to look after, and 
 that matter is much simplified by the fact that, there 
 being almost no level ground in the Himaliya, it is 
 useless taking any tent but one of very small dimen- 
 sions. The tremendous slopes and precipices of these 
 mountains were not made for the large canvas houses 
 which Indian officials carry about with them on the 
 plains. I have travelled for a whole dav before findino- 
 a piece of level ground the size of an ordinary drawing- 
 room, and have had to pitch my tent in such a place, 
 that two steps from my own door would have carried 
 me over a precipice — a position evidently unsuited for 
 somnambulists, and for travellers' of a very convivial 
 turn of mind. Fortunately, when I told Lord Napier 
 of Magdala of my intended journey, he said to me, 
 " Have you got a tent yet.'* No. Then don't get one 
 till you see the tent which I used in Abyssinia." This 
 historical tent he kindly had pitched for me, and I got 
 a facsimile of it made in Simla at the exceedingly 
 reasonable price of 70 rupees (about £'j), my butler 
 being a great hand at making bargains. It was made 
 
68 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 of American drill, with a double fly, which was invalu- 
 able for keeping oft' rain and heat. Its floor, and up to 
 where the roof began to slope, at three feet from the 
 ground, was about eleven feet by nine, and its extreme 
 height between seven and eight feet. It was supported 
 by two upright bamboos and a bamboo across them fit- 
 ting on iron spikes. Properly speaking, it had no walls, 
 but rop^s attached to the outside of the inner fly, about 
 three feet from the ground, gave it a perpendicular fall 
 of that height. It had not a pyramidal, but a very blunt 
 wedge-like form ; and the cloth of both front and back 
 opened completely from the top to the ground, or could 
 be kept quite closed by means of small hooks, while in 
 both back and front there was a small upper window, 
 with a flap to cover it. This habitation was so light 
 that one man could carry it and the bamboos, while its 
 iron pegs were not a sufficient load for one coolie, and 
 it was wonderfully roomy — more so than tents of much 
 greater dimensions and of more imposing appearance. 
 It was a convenience, as well as a source of safety, to 
 be able to get in and out of it at both sides without 
 stooping down ; and its coolness, and its use as a pro- 
 tection from the sun, were greatly enhanced by its 
 allowing of either or both ends being thrown entirely 
 open. I never fell in with any tent, except the model 
 on which it was made, to be compared with it for com- 
 bined lightness and comfort, and I have seldom found 
 so pleasant a habitation. It is necessary to have iron 
 pegs for such a tent, owing to the nature of the ground 
 and the scarcity of wood in the high mountains ; and a 
 double supply of bamboos should also be taken. A 
 good thick piece of carpet, about three and a half feet 
 long by two and a hjilf broad, is a great comfort, 
 especially on snow. All jimcrack articles are utterly 
 useless for the Himdliya, because everything gets 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 69 
 
 knocked about in a fearful manner ; and as a good 
 night's rest is of the utmost importance, I got Messrs 
 Cotton & Morris of Simla to make for me specially one 
 of their travelling-cots which take to pieces. It was 
 composed of two short and two long poles of strong 
 wood, which went into sockets in four thick strong 
 wooden legs. When this was set up, a piece of strong 
 carpet was stretched over it tightly in a peculiar way, 
 which I have not space to describe. My table, which 
 could also be taken to pieces, weighed only a few 
 pounds ; and I took with me a light cane chair, which 
 could always be mended with string, twigs, or some- 
 thing or other ; but a folding Kashmir chair would have 
 been much better. These things, with washing ap- 
 paratus, a couple of resais or padded quilts, a plaid, and 
 a waterproof sheet, were quite sufficient to start me in 
 Himaliyan life so far as my residence was concerned. 
 Some travellers take portable iron stoves with them for 
 their tents, but I rather think the heat thus obtained 
 unfits one for bearing the cold to which we are neces- 
 sarily exposed. My tent allowed of a fire being 
 kindled close to the entrance, when wood could be had, 
 and I found it was only the damp cold of regions with 
 plenty of wood that was injurious. For my servants I 
 had a good rautl of thick lined cloth, which kept them 
 quite comfortable ; and I cut down their .supply of 
 cooking-pots and personal luggage as far as was at all 
 compatible with their comfort and mine. 
 
 As regards provisions in the inner and higher Hima- 
 liya, the traveller will find that there are juniper- 
 berries growing nearly as high as he is likely to camp, 
 edible pines up to about 12,000 feet, and apricots nearly 
 to 10,000. Wherever there are villages, milk, mutton, 
 and coarse flour of various kinds are to be had ; but 
 that practically exhausts the list of Himaliyan supplies, 
 
70 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 except for the sportsman ; and, on a long journey, 
 hu'man stomachs desiderate a greater variety. The 
 junipers are of immense size and powerful flavour ; but 
 most people prefer to have their junipers by way of 
 Holland or Geneva. There is prime mutton to be had 
 in all parts of the mountains, not to speak of shaggy 
 sheep about the size of reindeer ; but the acute hillmen 
 are by no means fond of parting with it, and are apt to 
 insist that they have nothing else to off"er you, either 
 for love or money, except a fieshless lamb — evidently 
 destined, even by nature, to an early doom — or an 
 ancient ram which has been used for years as a carrier 
 of burdens. As to milk, it is an innocent and excellent 
 article of food ; and those whose stomachs dislike it 
 when sweet, can follow the example of milk-drinking 
 nations, and take it when it is sour and curdled, thus 
 saving their stomachs a good deal of trouble; but it 
 takes at least six quarts of milk daily to afford very 
 scanty sustenance to a full-grown maji, and by the time 
 the traveller begins upon the fourth bottle, he is apt to 
 wish that it were something else ; and I suspect that, 
 in these circumstances, and when seated on a bank of 
 snow, even the sternest teetotaller would not be averse 
 to mingling a little rum with his milk. The flour to be 
 had is often very bad, being ill ground and mixed with 
 dirt ; so it is expedient both to have some fine Euro- 
 pean flour, and when we meet with good mountain 
 flour, to take some of it on with us for the next few 
 stages. Perhaps the best article of this kind to be got 
 is the roasted barley flour which the hillmen take with 
 them on their journeys, and which, with the aid of only 
 a little salt and cold water, they make into a very 
 eatable dough called suttu. The sportsman, however, 
 can supply his pot with many tempting edibles. I 
 know of no flesh equal to that of the ibex ; and the 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 71 
 
 navo, a species of gigantic antelope of Chinese Tibet, 
 with the barra-singJt, a red deer of Kashmir, are nearly 
 equally good. Though these animals are difficult to 
 get at, yet portions of them can sometimes be obtained 
 from native shikarries ; and my Bombay servant, with 
 his gun, supplied me with many pheasants and par- 
 tridges — of which the Himaliya can boast the most 
 splendid variety — and with any quantity of large, fat, 
 blue pigeons, of which there are great flocks wherever 
 there is a village with grain-fields round it. All the 
 way from Kotgarh, four or five marches from Simla, to 
 Chinese Tibet, and from thence to Suru^ a dependency 
 of Kashmir, I did not find a single domestic fowl, and 
 felt much the want of eggs. Colonel Moore and Cap- 
 tain de Roebeck, whom I met at Kotgarh on their way 
 back from Spiti, spoke of having made the acquain- 
 tance, in that province, of some ver}- bony fowls, which 
 required to be pounded with rocks in order to make 
 them eatable ; but I believe these gentlemen must have 
 eaten up all the fowls of Spiti, and put an end to the 
 breed. Both the Hindu Kunaits and the Lama Biid- 
 hists object on religious grounds to supplying travellers 
 with eggs and fowls ; so it is not till one gets to 
 Mohammedan Kashmir that these useful articles of diet 
 are to be met with. Also, till near Kashmir the 
 streams are far too muddy, rapid, and difficult of ap- 
 proach, to afiford fish, though one traveller in a hundred 
 may have sojne offered to him. A species of turnip is 
 to be found at some villages, and potatoes and various 
 vegetables are grown by the Moravian missionaries at 
 Kaelang in Lahaul, and Pu in upper Kunawar ; but 
 practically, as I have said, the traveller will find that he 
 has nothing to depend upon except milk, mutton, 
 coarse flour, edible pines, apricots, and junipers. The 
 want of vegetables is most severely felt, owing to the 
 
72 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 acids which they supply ; but I found that dried apri- 
 cots were an excellent substitute for them, especially 
 the dried apricots of Baltistan, which. are highly valued 
 by the hillmen, and may be purchased from parties of 
 Balti's, or from the wealthier zemindars. The kernels of 
 their seeds also are quite eatable, and, taken with the 
 dried flesh of the apricot, make a combination not un- 
 like that of almonds and raisins. It is well, however, 
 to take a certain amount of compressed vegetables on a 
 long journey into the Himaliya, and tins of soup con- 
 taining vegetables will be found useful. Hotch-potch 
 especially is of the greatest service, because by itself it 
 affords a sufficient and cpmfortable meal, and it stood 
 me in good stead when my people were all too much 
 fatigued to have prepared any more elaborate dinner. 
 There is, in fact, nothing like hotch-potch for the 
 Himaliyan traveller; the only objections to it are its 
 weight and bulk, when tins have to be carried by coolies 
 for months. This difficulty I partially met by taking 
 with me a quantity of the sotipe a rognon an gras of 
 MM. Usines Chollet et Cie. of Paris. This soup, which 
 as its name indicates, is composed of onions and rich 
 meat, is in small oblong tins about the cubic capacity 
 of an ordinary soup tin of one pound weight. Each tin 
 contains thirty portions of soup in tablets, which only 
 require to have boiling water poured upon them, in 
 order to make a nourishing and very palatable soup. I 
 scarcely think one portion will make a sufficient basin 
 of soup as one takes soup on a journey, but one and a 
 half will ; so that a single tin, wdiich might be carried 
 in an outer pocket, provides a single traveller with 
 abundance of soup for his dinner for twenty days; and 
 I had one tin open for thirty- six days in August and 
 September, when it had to go through a good deal of 
 heat, without the last tablet used being in the least 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 
 
 spoiled. Onion soup, I may mention, has been found 
 of great use by Arctic expeditions in the extreme cold 
 to which they are exposed. The few tins of preserved 
 meat I took with me were of little use, for one wants 
 more particularly to supplement the local supplies with 
 light articles of diet ; but an exception should be made 
 in favour of tins of half-boiled bacon, which are exceed- 
 ingly acceptable in high cold regions. Tins of salmon 
 arc a great stand-by, being invaluable for affording a 
 substantial cold breakfast at the mid-day halt, when 
 the traveller is as hungry as a hunter, and when, if he 
 gives way to his inclinations, a pound tin will disappear 
 before him in a few minutes. Tins of fresh white fish, 
 and of any uncompressed vegetables, except, perhaps, 
 peas, are of no use ; but Finnan or Findon haddocks 
 are, with boiled fowl and small tins of potted meat, and 
 of sardines preserved in butter. But it is evident that 
 we are thus in danger of running up a train of fifty 
 coolies, at least at starting, and it was only by the 
 greatest care, both in choosing and in using these sup- 
 plies, that I was able to start with little more than two 
 coolies' loads of tins, and yet to keep coming and going 
 on them for months. Skill of this kind can only be 
 obtained by experience in travel, and it is essential, in 
 order to make the supplies go any distance, peremp- 
 torily to forbid one's servants to open a single tin with- 
 out express permission. 
 
 As twenty full quart bottles are about a coolie's load, 
 it is advisable to be as discriminating in the selection 
 and , use of potables as of edibles on a Himaliyan 
 journey. Wine, to any extent, and beer, are out of the 
 question ; for it must be remembered that it is some- 
 times difficult to get even the dozen coolies which are 
 required to carry one's tent and other necessaries ; and 
 the duty of bigdr, or carriage, presses so heavily at 
 
74 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 times on the villages of the Himaliya, that it is but 
 right for the humane traveller to avail himself of it as 
 lightly as he can. Those who usually conform to the 
 ordinary habits of civilised life, which are very well 
 adapted for brain work and for sedentary habits, will be 
 surprised to find how easily they can conform to a 
 simpler regime in the Himaliya; for in the keen stimu- 
 lating air of these mountains there is not only very little 
 need for alcoholic stimulants, but also very little desire 
 for them. 
 
 However perfect our other arrangements may be, 
 there will be little comfort on a long mountain journey 
 without exceptionally good servants, v/ho will enter a 
 little into the spirit of the journey ; and it is exceed- 
 ingly difficult to get Indian servants who will do any- 
 thing of the kind. As a rule, they do not like travelling, 
 unless it be in the comfort and state of a Commis- 
 sioner's or Collector's camp; and they have a great 
 dread of cold regions in general, and of snow}^ moun- 
 tains in particular. The consequence is, it is difficult to 
 get respectable servants to go up into the mountains ; 
 and Simla is famous for its bad servants; though I 
 noticed that almost every station I came to deemed 
 itself more unfortunate in that respect than its neigh- 
 bours. The plague of servants, everywhere consider- 
 able, has now become very serious in India. There has 
 been no legislation of late years on this subject adapted 
 to the circumstances of the country; and old arbitrary 
 practices for keeping servants in order can be very 
 rarely resorted to, and are not in themselves desirable. 
 There has been too little care taken in valuing good 
 servants, and too little trouble in having bad ones 
 punished. The native Indian journals have some 
 reason on their side when they argue that, if Ave are 
 afflicted with very bad servants, the fault is much our 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. 75 
 
 own, inasmuch as we have made them what they are. 
 I notice, however, that the earHest accounts of Anglo- 
 Indian life speak of two very different t3^pes of ser- 
 vants, very much corresponding to the two great t\'pes 
 of the present day. The misfortune is, that since the 
 Mutiny the number of servants of the good t}-pe has 
 decreased, principally owing to our lessened family 
 interest in India; while the bad servants have found 
 increased immunity under the almost necessary but 
 overdone protection of legal equality with their masters, 
 and with the greater opportunities which they now pos- 
 sess of moving from station to station, and of employ- 
 ing each other's or forged certificates. But there are 
 very good servants to be had still in India, and care 
 should be taken not to confound them with the rascals, 
 or to treat them with harshness and distrust. On this 
 Himaliyan journey I was singularly fortunate. About 
 a year before, after having been afflicted with some of, 
 the worst servants to be found anywhere — men whose 
 conduct would really have justified homicide— I found 
 a treasure at Nasik, in the person of Silas Cornelius, a 
 native Christian, but a Maratha from the Nizam's 
 dominions, who had been brought up in the schools of 
 the Church Mission near Nasik. In steadiness, in 
 honesty, in truthfulness, in faithful service, in devotion 
 to the interests of his employer, and in amiability of 
 disposition, I never knew of any servant who surpassed 
 or almost equalled Silas Cornelius ; and his good con- 
 duct on my mountaia journey was the more remark- 
 able, as he had beei> led into it step by step, as I myself 
 had been, and would never have left Bombay on any 
 such undertaking. "Very hard journey this, sir! very 
 hard journey!" was his only remonstrance in even the 
 worst circumstances ; and it was accompanied by a 
 screwing of the mouth, which was half pathetic, half 
 
1^ THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 comical. Not that Silas was without his foibles. When 
 he found himself in the mountains with a gun sluhg 
 behind his back, and was made the shikar of the expe- 
 dition, as well as my butler, this mild and amiable 
 individual assumed a most warlike appearance and air; 
 he tied up his moustache in Maratha fashion, and made 
 the other servants call him Jemadar. He also became 
 fond of too promptly ordering the coolies about, but as 
 the hillmen paid very little attention to this, it did not 
 much matter. The value of this butler was equalled 
 by that of a very bright, intelligent little Kunait boy 
 about fifteen, called Nurdass, whom I picked up at 
 Shaso, close to the Chinese frontier, and who, as he 
 spoke Tibetan and Hindusthani, as well as his native 
 Kunawari, served me as interpreter on great part of my 
 journey, besides being useful in a hundred different 
 ways. These were the two gems of my small entoiwage. 
 A Kunawar Munshi called Phooleyram, who went with 
 me from Kotgarh as far as Kashmir, was chiefly of use in 
 getting my tent and bed put up. The only other regular 
 attendant I had was an Afghan cook called Chota 
 Khan, or the " Little Chief," — a man of great size and 
 weight, of rather bullying propensities, though very 
 useful on a journey, who kept everybody except myself 
 in awe, and who was afraid of nothing except of cross- 
 ing dLJInila or twig bridge. Whenever a young lamb or 
 ancient ram was brought to us for sale, the way in 
 which Chota Khan bellowed out thunders of abuse 
 (chiefly with an eye to the satisfaction of his own capa- 
 cious stomach) was exceedingly useful, and really 
 frightened the astonisTtied lainbadars. It was a great 
 pleasure to everybody when we came to a jJiida, be- 
 cause then the- giant died, the liero broke down utterly, 
 and had to be silent for the rest of the da}-, — until in 
 the evening, among his pots and pans, and after cutting 
 
SIMLA AND ITS CELEBRITIES. yj 
 
 the throat of a sheep in orthodox Mohammedan fashion, 
 with an exclamation which sounded much more hke a 
 curse than a blessing, he became himself again. All 
 the other people I required, whether coolies, guides, or 
 yakmen, were had from village to village. At Simla I 
 engaged Qight j'hampa7i-walla/is to carry me in a dandy; 
 but after* five daj's this agreement was ended by mutual 
 consent, and I depended entirely on people taken from 
 stage to stage, and on ghiints and yaks. 
 
 Thus it may be understood with what appliances of 
 travel I started from Simla in the commencement of 
 June ; but it-was not until after the experience of a few 
 days' journey, and I got to Kotgarh, that I managed to 
 bring things into order, and was able to cut down the 
 twenty-eight coolies with which I started to about 
 twelve (or doublfe that number of boys and women at 
 half-pay), exclusive of those I might or might not need 
 for my own carriage. 
 
 '-% 
 

 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 
 
 The cut bridle-path, which has been dignified by the 
 name of " The Great Hindusthan and Tibet Road," that 
 leads along the sides of the hills from Simla to the Nar- 
 kunda Ghaut, and from Narkunda up the valley of the 
 Sutlej to Chini and Pangay, is by no means so exas- 
 perating as the native paths of the inner Himaliya. It 
 does not require one to dismount every five minutes; 
 and though it does go down into some terrific gorges, 
 at the bottom of which there is quite a tropical climate 
 in summer, yet, on the whole, it is pretty level, and 
 never compels one (as the other roads too often and too 
 sadly do) to go up a mile of perpendicular height in the 
 morning, only to go down a mile of perpendicular depth 
 in the afternoon. Its wooden bridges can be traversed 
 on horseback ; it is not much exposed to falling rocks ; 
 it is free from avalanches, either of snow or granite ; and 
 it never compels one to endure the almost infuriating 
 misery of having, every now and then, to cross miles of 
 rugged blocks of stone, across which no ragged rascal 
 that ever lived could possibly run. Nevertheless, the 
 cut road, running as it often does without any parapet, 
 or with none to speak of, and only seven or eight feet 
 broad, across the face of enormous precipices and nearly 
 precipitous slopes, is even more dangerous for eques- 
 trians than are the rude native paths. Almost every 
 year some fatal accident happens upon it, and the 
 wonder only is, that people who set any value upon 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEA TH. 79 
 
 their lives are so foolhardy as to ride upon it at all. A 
 gentleman of the Forest Department, resident at Nac- 
 har, remarked to me that it was strange that, though 
 he had been a cavalry officer, he never mounted a horse 
 in the course of his mountain journeys ; but it struck 
 me, though he might not have reasoned out the matter, 
 it was just because he had been a cavalry officer, and 
 knew the nature of horses, that he never rode on such 
 paths as he had to traverse in Kunawar. No animal is 
 so easily startled as a horse, or so readily becomes 
 restive : it will shy at an oyster-shell, though doing so 
 may dash it to pieces over a precipice ; and one can 
 easily guess what danger its rider incurs on a narrow 
 parapetless road above a precipice A'here there are 
 monkeys and falling rocks to startle it, and where there 
 are obstinate hillmen who will salaam the rider, say 
 what he may, and who take the inner side of the road, 
 in order to prop their burdens against the rock, and to 
 have a good look at him as he passes. One of the 
 saddest of the accidents which have thus happened was 
 that which befell a very young lady, a daughter, of the 
 Rev. Mr Rebsch, the missionary at Kotgarh. She was 
 riding across the tremendous Rogi cliffs, and, though a 
 wooden railing has since been put up at tha|fclace, there 
 was nothing between her and the precipice, when her 
 pony shied and carried her over to instant deaths In 
 another cas-e, the victim, a Mr Leith, was on his marriage 
 trip, and his newly-married wife was close beside him, 
 and had just exchanged horses with him, when, in trying 
 to cure his steed of a habit it had of rubbing against the 
 rock wall, it backed towards the precipice, and its hind 
 feet getting over, both horse and rider were dashed to 
 pieces. This happened between Serahan and Taranda, 
 near the spot where the road gave way under Sir Alex- 
 ander Lawrence, a nephew of Lord Lawrence, the then 
 
8o THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 Governor-General. Sir Alexander was riding a heavy 
 Australian horse, and the part of the road which gave 
 way was wooden planking, supported out from the face 
 of the precipice by iron stanchions. I made my coolies 
 throw over a large log of wood where he went down ; 
 and, as it struck the rocks in its fall, it sent out showers 
 of white splinters, so that the solid wood was reduced to 
 half its original size before it reached a resting-place. 
 In the case of the wife of General Brind, that lady was 
 quietly making a sketch on horseback, from the road 
 between Theog and Muttiana, and her syce was holding 
 the horse, when it was startled by some falling stones, 
 and all three went over and were destroyed. Not very 
 long after I went up tliis lethal road, a Calcutta judge, 
 of one of the subordinate courts, went over it and was 
 killed in the presence of some ladies with whom he was 
 riding, owing simply to his horse becoming restive. An 
 eyewitness of another of these frightful accidents told 
 me that when the horse's hind foot got off the road, it 
 struggled for about half a minute in that position, and 
 the rider had plenty of time to dismount safely, and 
 might easily have done so, but a species of paralysis 
 seemed to come over him ; his face turned deadly white, 
 and he sat on the horse without making the least effort 
 to save himself, until they both went over backwards. 
 The sufferer is usuall}^ a little too late in attempting to 
 dismount. Theoretically, it may seem easy enough to 
 disengage one's self from a horse when it is strugfrlino- 
 on the brink of a precipice ; but let my reader try the 
 experiment, and he will see the mistake. The worst 
 danger on these cut roads is that of the horse backing 
 towards the precipice; and when danger presents itself, 
 there is a curious tendency on the part of the rider to 
 pull his horse's head away from the precipice towards 
 the rock wall, which is about the worst thing he can do. 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 8i 
 
 The few seconds (of which I had some experience further 
 on) in which you find yourself fairly going, are particu- 
 larly interesting, and send an electric thrill through the 
 entire system. 
 
 I rode almost every mile of the wa}', on which it 
 was at all possible to ride, from Chinese Tartary to the 
 Kyber Pass, on anything- which turned up — yaks, zo-pos, 
 cows, Spiti ponies, a Khiva horse, and blood-horses. 
 On getting to Kashmir I purchased a horse, but did not 
 do so before, as it is impossible to take any such animal 
 over rope and twig bridges, and the rivers are too rapid 
 and furious to allow of a horse being swum across these 
 latter obstacles. The traveller in the Himaliya, how- 
 ever, ought always to take a saddle with him ; for the 
 native saddles, though well adapted for riding down 
 nearly perpendicular slopes, are extremely uncomfort- 
 able, and the safety which they might afford is consider- 
 ably decreased by the fact that their straps are often in 
 a rotten condition, and exceedingly apt to give way just 
 at the critical moment. An English saddle will do per- 
 fectly well if it has a crupper to it, but that is absolutely 
 necessary. Some places are so steep that, when riding 
 down them, I was obliged to have a rope put round m}' 
 chest and held by two men above, in order to prevent 
 me going over the pony's head, or throwing it off its 
 balance. But on the Hindusthan and Tibet road I had 
 to be carried in a dandy, which is the only kind of con- 
 veyance that can be taken over the Hmialiya. The 
 dandy is unknown in Europe, and is not very easil}- 
 described, as there is no other means of conveyance 
 which can afford the faintest idea of it. The nearest 
 approach to travelling in a dandy I can think of, is 
 sitting in a half-reefed topsail in a storm, with the head 
 and shoulders above the yard. It consists of a single 
 bamboo, about 9 or 10 feet long, with two pieces of 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 carpet slung from it — one for the support of the body, 
 and the other for the feet. You rest on these pieces of 
 carpet, not in hne with the bamboo, but at right angles 
 to it, with your head and shoulders raised as high above 
 it as possible ; and each end of the pole rests on the 
 shoulders of one or of two bearers. The dandy is quite 
 a pleasant conveyance when one gets used to it, when 
 the path is tolerably level and the bearers are up to 
 their work. The only drawbacks then are that, when a 
 rock comes bowling across the road like a cannon-shot, 
 you cannot disengage yourself from the carpets in time 
 to do anything yourself towards getting out of the way; 
 and that, when the road is narrow, and, in consequence, 
 your feet are dangling over a precipice, it is difficult for 
 a candid mind to avoid concluding that the bearers 
 would be quite justified in throwing the whole concern 
 over, and so getting rid of their unwelcome and painful 
 task. But when the path is covered with pieces of rock, 
 as usually happens to be the case, and the coolies are 
 not well up to their work, which they almost never are, 
 the man in the dandy is not allowed much leisure for 
 meditations of any kind, or even for admiring the scenery 
 around ; for, unless he confines his attention pretty 
 closely to the rocks with which he is liable to come into 
 collision, he will soon have all the breath knocked out 
 of his body. On consulting a Continental savan, who 
 had been in the inner Himaliya, as to whether I could 
 get people there to carry me in a dandy, he said, "Zey 
 vill carry you, no doubt ; but zey vill bomp you." And 
 bump me they did, until they bumped me out of adher- 
 ence to that mode of travel. Indeed they hated and 
 feared having to carry me so much, that I often won- 
 dered at their never adopting the precipice alternative. 
 But in the Himaliyan states the villagers have to furnish 
 the traveller, and especially the English traveller, with 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 
 
 83 
 
 the carriage which he requires, and at a certain fixed 
 rate. This is what is called the right of bigdr, and 
 without the exercise of it, travelling would be aln:iost 
 impossible among the mountains. I also had a special 
 pw'zvannali, which would have entitled me, in case of 
 necessity, to seize what I required ; but this I kept in 
 the background. 
 
 The stages from Simla to Pangay, along the cut 
 bridle-path, are as follows, according to miles : — 
 
 Fagii, 
 
 10 
 
 miles. 
 
 Taranda, . 
 
 
 15 miles. 
 
 Theog, 
 
 6 
 
 )) 
 
 Poynda, 
 
 
 5 „ 
 
 Muttiana, . 
 
 II 
 
 s» 
 
 Nachar, 
 
 
 7 » 
 
 Narkunda, . 
 
 12 
 
 >J 
 
 Wangtii, , 
 
 
 10 „ 
 
 Kotgarh, . 
 
 10 
 
 »» 
 
 Oorni, , 
 
 
 5 „ 
 
 Nii-th, 
 
 1 12 
 
 >■> 
 
 Rogi, 
 
 
 10 „ 
 
 Rampi'ir, , 
 
 12 
 
 n 
 
 Chini, , 
 
 
 3 » 
 
 Gaura, . . 
 
 9 
 
 if 
 
 Pangay, 
 
 
 7 » 
 
 Serahan, 
 
 13 
 
 » 
 
 
 
 
 This road, however, has four great divisions, each with 
 marked characteristics of its own. To Narkunda it 
 winds along the sides of not very interesting mountains, 
 and about the same level as Simla, till at the Narkunda 
 Ghaut it rises nearly to 9000 feet, and affords a gloomy 
 view into the Sutlej valley, and a splendid view of the 
 snowy ranges beyond. In the second division it de- 
 scends into the burning Sutlej valley,- and follows near 
 to the course of that river, on the left bank, until, after 
 passing Rampur, the capital of the state of Bussahir, it 
 rises on the mountain sides again up to Gaura. Thirdly, 
 it continues along the mountain-sides, for the most part 
 between 6000 and 7COO feet high, and through the most 
 magnificent forests of deodar, till it descends again to 
 the Sutlej, crosses that river at Wangtu Bridge, and 
 ascends to Oorni. Lastly, it" runs from Oorni to Pan- 
 gay, at a height of nearly 9000 feet, on the right bank 
 
84 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 of the Sutlej, and sheltered from the Indian monsoon 
 by the 20,000 feet high snowy peaks of the Kailas, 
 which rise abruptly on the .opposite side of the river. 
 
 The view of the mountains from Narkunda is wonder- 
 ful indeed, and well there might the spirit 
 
 " Take flight ; — inherit 
 
 Alps or Andes — they are thine ! 
 With tlie morning's roseate spirit 
 
 Sweep the length of snowy line," 
 
 But the view down into the valley of the Sutlej is ex- 
 ceedingly gloomy and oppressive ; and on seeing it, I 
 could not help thinking of the " Valley of the Shadow 
 of Death." The same idea had struck Lieut.-Colonel 
 Moore, the interpreter to the Commander-in-chief, whom 
 I met at Kotgarh, a little lower down, along with Cap- 
 tain De Roebeck, one of the Governor-General's aides- 
 de-camp. No description could give an adequate idea 
 of the tattered, dilapidated, sunburnt, and woe-begone 
 appearance of these two officers as they rode up to 
 Kotgarh after their experience of the snows of Spiti. 
 Colonel Moore's appearance, especially, would have 
 made his fortune on the stage. There was nothing 
 woful, however, in his spirit, and he kept me up half 
 the night laughing at his most humorous accounts of 
 Spiti, its animals and its ponies ; but even this genial 
 officer's sense of enjoyment seemed to desert him when 
 he spoke of his experience of the hot Sutlej valley from 
 Gaura to Kotgarh, and he said emphatically, " It is 
 the Valley of the Shadow of Death." I was struck by 
 this coincidence with my own idea, because it was 
 essential for me to get up into high regions of pure air, 
 and I could not but dread the journey up the Sutlej 
 valley, with its vegetation, its confined atmosphere, its 
 rock-heat, and its gloomy gorges. I had a sort of pre- 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 85 
 
 cognition that some special danger was before me, and 
 was even alarmed by an old man, whose parting bene- 
 diction to us ^was, " Take care of the bridges beyond 
 Nachar." This was something like, " Beware the pine- 
 tree's withered branch," and I began to have gloomy 
 doubts about my capacity for getting high enough. Mr 
 Rebsch, the amiable and talented head of the Kotgarh 
 Mission (of which establishment I hope elsewhere to 
 give a fuller notice than could be introduced here), gave 
 me all the encouragement which could be derived from 
 his earnest prayers for my safety among the Jiohe 
 Gehirge. There were two clever German young ladies, 
 too, visiting at Kotgarh, who seemed to think it was 
 quite unnecessary for me to go up into the high moun- 
 tains ; so that, altogether, I began to wish that I was 
 out of the valley before I had got well into it, and to 
 feel something like a fated pilgrim who was going to 
 some unknown doom. 
 
 Excelsior, however, was my unalterable motto, as I 
 immediately endeavoured to prove by descending some 
 thousand feet into the hot Sutlej valley, in spite of all 
 the attractions of Kotgarh. I shall say very little about 
 the journey up to Chini, as it is so often undertaken, but 
 may mention two incidents which occurred upon it. 
 Between Nirth and Rampur the heat was so intense, 
 close, and suffocating, that I travelled by night, with 
 torches ; and stopping to rest a little, about midnight, 
 I was accosted by a native gentleman, who came out of 
 the darkness, seated himself behind me, and said in 
 English, "Who are you?" I had a suspicion who my 
 friend was, but put a similar question to him ; on which 
 he replied,- not without a certain dignity, " I am the 
 Rajah of Bussahir." This Bussaliir, which includes 
 Kunawar, and extends up the Sutlej valley to Chinese 
 Tibet, is the state in which I was travelling. Its pro- 
 
86 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 ducts are opium, grain, and woollen manufactures, and it 
 has a population of 90,000 and nominal revenue of 
 50,000 rupees ; but the sums drawn from it in one way 
 or another, by Government officers, must considerably 
 exceed that amount. Its rajah was exceedingly affable; 
 and his convivial habits are so well known, and have 
 been so often alluded to, that I hope there is no harm 
 in saying that on this occasion he was not untrue to his 
 character. I found him, however, to be a very agree- 
 able man, and he is extremely well-meaning'^ — so much 
 so, as to be desirous of laying down his sovereignty if 
 only the British Government would be good enough to 
 accept it from him, and give him a pension instead. 
 But there are much worse governed states than Bussa- 
 hir, notwithstanding the effects on its amiable and in- 
 telligent rajah of a partial and ill-adjusted English 
 education, in which undue importance was assigned to 
 the use of brandy. He caused some alarm among my 
 people by insisting on handling my revolver, which was 
 loaded ; but he soon showed that he knew how to use 
 it with extraordinary skill ; for, on a lighted candle being 
 put up for him to fire at, about thirty paces off, though he 
 could scarcely stand by this time, yet he managed, 
 somehow or other, to prop himself up against a tree, 
 and snuffed out the candle at the first shot. On the 
 whole, the rajah made a very favourable impression upon 
 me, despite his peculiarity, if such it may be called ; and 
 my nocturnal interview with him, under huge trees, in 
 the middle of a dark wet night, remains a very curious 
 and pleasant recollection. 
 
 The other incident was of a more serious character, and 
 illustrated a danger which every year carries off a certain 
 number of the hillmen. Standing below the bungalow 
 at Scrahan, I noticed some men, who were ascending to 
 their vTllage, racing against each other on the grassy 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 87 
 
 brow of a precipice that rose above the road leading 
 to Gaura. One of them unfortunately lost his footing, 
 slipped a little on the edge, and then went over the pre- 
 cipice, striking the road below with a tremendous thud, 
 after an almost clear fall of hundreds of feet, and then 
 rebounding from off the road, and falling about a hun- 
 dred feet into a ravine below. I had to go round a 
 ravine some way in order to reach him, so that when I 
 did so, he was not only dead, but nearly cold. The 
 curious thing is, that there was no external bruise about 
 him. The mouth and nostrils were filled with clotted 
 blood, but otherwise there was no indication even of the 
 cause of his death. The rapidity of his descent throu;;h 
 the air must have made him so far insensible as to pre- 
 vent that contraction of the muscles which is the great 
 cause of bones being broken ; and then the tremendous 
 concussion when he struck the road must have knocked 
 every particle of life out of him. This man's brother — 
 his polyandric brother, as it turned out, though polyan- 
 dry only commences at Serahan, being a Lama and not 
 a Hindu institution, but the two religions are mixed up 
 a little at the points of contact — reached the body about, 
 the same time as I did, and threw himself upon it, weep- 
 ing and lamenting. I wished to try the effect of some 
 very strong ammonia, but the brother objected to 'this, 
 because, while probably it would have been of no use, 
 it would have defiled the dead, according to his religious 
 ideas. The only other s}mpathy I could display was 
 the rather coarse one of paying the people of Serahan, 
 who showed no indications of giving assistance, for 
 carrying the corpse up to its village ; but the brother, 
 who understood Hindusthani, preferred to take the 
 mone}^ himself, in order to purchase wood for the funeral 
 pyre. Pie was a large strong man, whereas the deceased 
 was little and slight, so he wrapped the dead body in 
 
THE ABODE OF SNO TV. 
 
 his plaid, and slung it over his shoulders. There was 
 something almost comic, as well as exceedingly pathetic, 
 in the way in which he toiled up the mountain with his 
 sad burden, wailing and Aveeping over it whenever he 
 stopped to rest, and kissing the cold face. 
 
 The road up to Chini is almost trodden ground, and 
 so does not call for special description; but it is pictur- 
 esque in the highest degree, and presents wonderful 
 combinations of beauty and grandeur. It certainly has 
 sublime heights above, and not less extraordinary 
 depths below. Now we catch a glimpse of a snowy 
 peak 20,coo feet high rising close above us, and the 
 next minute we look down into a dark precipitous gorge 
 thousands of feet deep. Then we have, below the 
 snowy peaks, Himaliyan hamlets, with their flat roofs, 
 placed on ridges of rock or on green sloping meadows ; 
 enormous deodars, clothed with veils of white flowering 
 clematis ; grey streaks of water below, from whence 
 comes the thundering sound of the imprisoned Sutlej — 
 the classic Hesudrus; almost precipitous slopes of 
 shingle, and ridges of mountain fragments. Above, 
 there are green alps, with splendid trees traced out 
 against the sky ; the intense blue of the sky, and the 
 dark overshadowing precipices. Anon, the path de- 
 scends into almost tropical shade at the bottom of the 
 great ravines, with ice-cold water falling round the dai*k 
 roots of the vegetation, and an almost ice-cold air fan- 
 ning the great leafy branches. The trees which meet 
 us almost at every step in this upper Sutlej valley are 
 worthy of the sublime scenery by which they are sur- 
 rounded, and are well fitted to remiad us, ere we pass 
 into the snowy regions of unsullied truth untouched by- 
 organic life, that the struggling and half-developed 
 vegetable world aspires towards heaven, and has not 
 been unworthv of the fjrand design. Even beneath the 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 89 
 
 deep blue dome, the cloven precipices and the sky- 
 pointing snowy peaks, the gigantic deodars (which 
 cluster most richly about Nachar) may well strike with 
 awe by their wonderful union of grandeur and perfect 
 beauty. In the dog and the elephant we often see a 
 devotion so touching, and the stirring of an intellect so 
 gi'eat and earnest as compared with its cruel narrow 
 bounds, that we are drawn towards them as to some- 
 thing almost surpassing human nature in its confiding 
 simplicity and faithful tenderness. No active feeling of 
 this kind can be called forth by the innumerable forms 
 of beauty which rise around us from the vegetable world. 
 They adorn Our gardens and clothe our hillsides, giving 
 joy to the simplest maiden, yet directing the winds and 
 rains, and purif)-ing the great expanses of air. So far 
 as humanity, so dependent upon them, is> concerned, 
 they are silent ; no means of communication exist be- 
 tween us ; and silently, unremonstrantly, they answer 
 to our care or indifference for them, by reproducing, in 
 apparently careless abundance, their more beautiful or 
 noxious forms. But we cannot say that they are not 
 sentient, or even conscious beings. The expanding of 
 flowers to the light, and the contraction of some to the 
 touch, indicate a highly sentient nature ; and in the 
 slow, cruel action of carnivorous plants, there is some- 
 thing approaching to the fierce instincts of the brute 
 world. Wordsworth, than whom no poet more pro- 
 foundly understood the life of nature, touched on this 
 subject v/hen he said — 
 
 " Through primrose turfs, in that sweet bower, 
 The periwinkle trailed its wreaths ; 
 And 'tis my faitlr that every flower 
 Enjoys the air it breathes. 
 
90 ^ THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 " The budding twigs spread out their fan 
 To catch the breezy air; 
 And I must think, do all I can, 
 That there was pleasure there." 
 
 If anything of this kind exists, how great and grave 
 must be the sentient feehng of the mighty pines and 
 cedars of the Himahya ! There is a considerable 
 variety of them, — as the Pimis excelsa, or the " weeping 
 fir," which, though beautiful, is hardly deserving of its 
 aspiring name ; the Pinus longifolia^ or Cheel tree, the 
 most abundant of all ; the Pimts Khiitrow, or Picea 
 Morinda, which almost rivals the deodars in height ; 
 and the Pinus Morinda, or Abies Pindrow, the "silver 
 fir," which attains the greatest height of all. But, ex- 
 celling all these, is the Cedriis deodara, the Deodar or 
 Kedron tree. There was something very grand about 
 these cedars of the Sutlej valley, sometimes forty feet in 
 circumference, and rising almost to two hundred feet, or 
 half the height of St Paul's, on nearly precipitous slopes, 
 and on the scantiest soil, yet losing no line of beauty in 
 their stems and their graceful pendant branches, and 
 with their tapering stems and green arrowy spikes 
 covered by a clinging trellis-work of Virginia creepers 
 and clematis still in white bloom. These silent giants 
 of a world which is not our own, but v^'hich we carelessly 
 use as our urgent wants demand, had owed nothing to 
 the cultivating care of man. Fed by the snow-rills, and 
 by the dead lichens and strong grass which once found 
 life on the debris of gneiss and mica-slate, undisturbed 
 by the grubbing of wild animals, and as undesirable in 
 their tough green wood when young as unavailable in 
 their fuller growth for the use of the puny race of man- 
 kind which grew up around them, they were free, for 
 countless centuries, to seek air and light and moisture, 
 and to attain the perfect stature which tiiey now pre- 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 91 
 
 sent, but which is unhkely to be continued now that 
 they are exposed to the axes of human beings who can 
 turn them " to use." If, as the Singalese assert, the 
 cocoa-nut palm withers away when beyond the reach of 
 the human voice, it is easy to conceive how the majestic 
 deodar must deh'ght in being beyond our babblement. 
 Had Camoens seen this cedar, he might have said 
 of it, even more appropriately than he has done of the 
 cypress, that it may be a 
 
 " Preacher to the wise, 
 Lessening from earth her spiral honours rise, 
 Till, as a spear-point reared, the topmost spray 
 Points to the Eden of eternal day." 
 
 The view from Chini and Pangay of the Raldung 
 Kailas, one portion of the great Indian Kailas, or 
 Abode of the Gods, is very magnificent; but I shall 
 speak of that when treating generally of the various 
 groups of the higher Himaliya. At Pangay there is a ' 
 large good bungalow; and the Hindiisthan and Tibet 
 road there comes to an end, so far as it is a cut road, 
 or, indeed, a path on which labour of any kind is ex- 
 pended. It is entirely protected by the Kailas from 
 the Indian monsoon ; and I found a portion of it occu- 
 pied by Captain and Mrs Henderson, who wisely pre- 
 ferred a stay there to one in the more exposed and 
 unhealthy hill-stations, though it was so far from 
 societ}', and from most of the comforts of life. The 
 easiest way from Pangay to Lippe is over the Werung 
 Pass, 12,400 feet; but Captain Henderson, on his re- 
 turning from a shooting excursion, reported so much 
 snow upon it, that I determined to go up the valley of 
 the Sutlej, winding, along the sides of the steep but still 
 pine-covered mountains on its right bank. So, on the 
 28th June, after a delay of a few days in order to re- 
 
92 THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 cruit and prepare, I bade adieu to civilisation, as repre- 
 sented in the persons of the kind occupants of the bun- 
 galow at Pangay, and fairly started for tent-life. A 
 very short experience of the " road " was sufficient to 
 stagger one, and to make rae cease to wonder at the 
 retreat of two young cavalry officers I met, a few days 
 before, on their way back to Simla, and who had 
 started from Pangay with some intention of going to 
 Shipkj, but gave up the attempt after two miles' ex- 
 perience of the hard road they would have to travel. 
 The great Hindusthan and Tibet affair was bad 
 enough, but what was this I had come to t For a few 
 miles it had once been a cut road, but years and grief 
 had made it worse than the ordinary native paths. At 
 some places it was impassable even for hill-ponies, and 
 to be carried in a dandy over a considerable part of it 
 was out of the question. But the aggravation thus 
 caused was more than compensated for by the magni- 
 ficent view of snowy peaks which soon appeared in 
 front, and which, though they belonged to the Kailas 
 group, were more striking than the Kailas as it appears 
 from Chini or Pangay. Those enormous masses of 
 snow and ice rose into the clouds above us to such a 
 height, and apparently so near, that it seemed as if 
 their fall would overwhelm the whole Sutlej valley in 
 our neighbourhood, and they suggested that I was 
 entering into the wildest and sublimest region of the 
 earth. These peaks had the appearance of being on 
 our side of the Sutlej, but they lie between that river 
 and Chinese Tartary, in the bend which it makes when 
 it turns north at Buspa ; they are in the almost habita- 
 tionless district of Morang, and are all over 20,coo feet 
 high. My coolies called them the Shurang peaks; and 
 it is well worth while for all visitors to Pangay to go up 
 a few m.iles from that place in order to get a glimpse 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 93 
 
 of the terrific Alpine sublimity which is thus disclosed, 
 and which has all the more effect as it is seen ere ves^e- 
 tation ceases, and through the branches of splendid and 
 beautiful trees. 
 
 At Rarang, whicli made a lialf day's journey, the 
 extreme violence of the Himaliyan wind, which blows 
 usually throughout the day, but most fortunately dies 
 away at night, led me to camp in a sheltered and 
 beautiful spot, on a terraced field, under walnut and 
 apricot trees, and wnth the Kailas rising before my tent 
 on the other side of the Sutlej. Every now and then 
 in the afternoon, and when the morning sun began to 
 warm its snows, avalanches shot down the scarred sides 
 of the Kailas ; and when their roar ceased, and the wind 
 died away a little, I could hear the soft sound of the 
 waving cascades of white foam — some of which must 
 have rivalled the Staubbach in height — that diversified 
 its lower surface, but which became silent and unseen 
 as the cold of evening locked up their sources in the 
 glaciers and snow above. Where we were, at tlie height 
 of about 9000 feet, the thermometer was as high as 70° 
 Fahrenheit at sunset ; but at sunrise it was at 57° and 
 everything was frozen up on the grand mountains op- 
 posite. Though deodars and edible pines were 'still 
 found on the way to Jangi, that road was even worse 
 than its predecessor, and Silas and Chota Khan several 
 times looked at me with liopeless despair. In parti- 
 cular, I made my first experience here of what a granite 
 avalanche means, but should require the pen of Bunyan 
 in order to do justice to its discouraging effects upon 
 the pilgrim. When Alexander Gerard passed along 
 this road fifty-six years before, he found it covered by 
 the remains of a granite avalanche. Whether the same 
 avalanche has remained there ever since, or, as my 
 coolies averred, granite avalanches are in the habit of 
 
94 THE ABODE OF SNOV/. 
 
 coming down on that particular piece of road, I cannot 
 say ; but either explanation is quite sufficient to account 
 for the result. The whole mountain-side was covered 
 for a long way with huge blocks of gneiss and granite, 
 over which we had to scramble as best we could, in- 
 spired by the conviction that where these came from 
 there might be more in reserve. At one point we had 
 to wind round the corner of a precipice on two long 
 poles which rested on a niche at the corner of the preci- 
 pice which had to be turned, and which there met two 
 corresponding poles from the opposite side. This could 
 only have been avoided by making a detour of some 
 hours over the granite blocks, so we were all glad to 
 risk it ; and the only dangerous part of the operation 
 was getting round the corner and passing from the first 
 two poles to the second two, which were on a lower 
 level. As these two movements had to be performed 
 simultaneously, and could only be accomplished by 
 hugging the rock as closely as possible, the passage 
 there was really ticklish ; and even the sure-footed and. 
 experienced hillmen had to take our baggage round it 
 in the smallest possible instalments. 
 
 At Jangi there was a beautiful camping-place, be- 
 tween some great rocks and under some very fine wal- 
 nut and gjiezv (edible pine) trees. The village close b}-, 
 though small, had all the marks of moderate affluence, 
 and had a Hindu as well as a Lama temple, the former 
 religion hardly extending any further into the Hima- 
 liya, though one or two outlying villages beyond belong 
 to it. Both at Pangay and Rarang I had found the 
 ordinary prayer-wheel used — a brass or bronze cylinder, 
 about six inches long, and two or three in diameter, 
 containing a long scroll of paper, on which were written 
 innumerable reduplications of the Lama prayer — "Om 
 ma ni pad ma houn" — and which is turned from left to 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 95 
 
 right in the monk's hand by means of an axle which 
 passes through its centre. But in the Lama temple at 
 Jangi I found a still more powerful piece of devotional 
 machinery, in the shape of a gigantic prayer-mill made 
 of bronze, about seven or eight feet in diameter, and 
 which might be turned either by the hand or by a rill 
 of water which could be made to fall upon it when 
 water was in abundance. This prayer contained I am 
 afraid to say how many millions of repetitions of the 
 great Lama prayer ; and the pious Ritualists of Jangi 
 were justly proud of it, and of the eternal advantages 
 which it gave them over their carnal and spiritually in- 
 different neighbours. The neophyte who showed the 
 prayer-mill to me turned it with ease, and allowed me 
 to send up a million prayers. In describing one of the 
 Lama monasteries, to be met farther on in the Tibe'.an 
 country, I shall give a fuller account of these prayer- 
 wheels and mills. The temple at Jangi, with its 
 Tibetan inscriptions and paintings of Chinese devils, 
 told me that I was leaving the region of Hinduism. 
 At Lippe, where I stopped next day, all the people ap- 
 peared to be Tibetan ; and beyond that I found only 
 two small isolated communities of Hindu .Kunaits, the 
 one at Shaso and the other at Namgea. The 'gnew tree, 
 or edible pine {Pimis Gerardina), under some of which 
 I camped at Jangi, extends higher up than does the 
 deodar. I saw some specimens of it opposite Pu^ at 
 about 12,000 feet. The edible portion is the almond- 
 shaped seeds, which are to be found within the cells of 
 the cone, and which contain a sweet whitish pulp that is 
 not unpleasant to the taste. This tree is similar to the 
 Italian Pimcs pinca ; and varieties of it are found in 
 California, and in Japan, where it is calted the ginko. 
 
 The road to Lippe, though bad and fatiguing, pre- 
 sented nothing of the dangers of the preceding day, and 
 
 I \ 
 
96 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 took us away from the Sutlej valley up the right bank 
 of the Pijar, also called Teti, river. In colder weather, 
 when the streams are either frozen or verj/- low, the 
 nearest way from Jangi to Shipki is to go all the way 
 up the Sutlej valley to Pu,;. but in summer that is im- 
 possible, from the size and violence of the streams, 
 which are swollen by the melting snows. At this large 
 village a woman was brought to meAvho had been struck 
 on the head by a falling rock about a year before. It 
 was a very extraordinary case, and showed tire good 
 effects of mountain air and diet, because a piece of the 
 skull had been broken off altogether at the top of her 
 head, leaving more than a square inch of the brain 
 exposed, with only a thin membrane over it. The 
 throbbing of the brain was distinctly perceptible under 
 this membrane ; and yet the woman was in perfect 
 health, and seemed quite intelligent. I once saw a 
 Chinaman's skull in a similar state, after he had been 
 beaten by some Tartar troops, but he was quite uncon- 
 scious and never recovered ; whereas this young woman 
 was not only well but cheerful, and I recommended her 
 to go to Simla and get a metallic plate put in, as that 
 was the only thing wiiich could be done for her, and her 
 case might be interesting to the surgeons there. 
 
 But at Lippe it became clear to me that, while the 
 mountain air had its advantages, the mountain w;iter, or 
 something of the kind, was not alwa}'S to be relied upon, 
 for I found myself suffering from an attack of acute 
 dysenter\' of the malignant t}'pe. As to the primary 
 origin of this attack I was not without grave suspicions, 
 though far from being sure on the subject. At Pangay 
 one day I congratulated myself on the improved state 
 of my health as I sat down to lunch, which consisted of 
 a stew ; and half an hour afterwards I began to suffer 
 severely from symptoms corresponding to those caused 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 97 
 
 by irritant metallic poisoning. I spoke to my servants 
 about this, and have not the remotest suspicion of Silas; 
 but it struck me that another of them showed a certain 
 amount of shamefacedness when he suggested bad water 
 as the cause ; and though Captain and Mrs Henderson 
 had been living for a month at Pangay, they had found 
 nothing to complain of in the water. It is very un- 
 pleasant when suspicions of this kind arise, because it 
 is almost impossible to disprove them ; and yet one feels 
 that the harbouring of them may be doing cruel injustice 
 to worthy men. But, some time before, I had become 
 convinced, from a variety of circumstances, that drug- 
 ging, which the people of India have always had a good 
 deal of recourse to among themselves, is now brought 
 to bear occasionally upon Anglo-Indians also, when 
 there is any motive for its use, and whei^e covering cir- 
 cumstances exist. It may seem easy to people who have 
 never tried it, and have never had any reason to do so, 
 to determine whether or not poisonous drugs have been 
 administered to them ; but they will find that just as 
 difficult as to dismount from a horse when it is going 
 over a precipice. Such is the fact even where the poison 
 is one which can be detected, but that is not always the 
 case ; and, in particular, there is a plant which grows in 
 almost every compound in India, a decoction of the 
 seeds of one variety of which will produce delirium and 
 death without leaving any trace of its presence behind. 
 The pounded seeds themselves are sometimes given in 
 curry with similar effect, but these can be detected, and 
 it is a decoction from them which is specially dangerous. 
 Entertaining such views, it appeared to me quite possible 
 that some of the people about me might be disposed not 
 so much to poison me as to arrest my journey by means 
 of drugs, whether to put an end to what had become to 
 them a trying and hateful journey, or in answer to the 
 
98 THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 bribery of agents of the Lassa Government, whose busi- 
 ness it is to prevent Europeans passing the border. I 
 don't suppose any one who started with me from Simla, 
 or saw me start, expected that I should get up very 
 far among the mountains ; and indeed. Major Fenwick 
 politely told me that I should get eaten up. A nice 
 little trip along a cut road, stopping a week at a bunga- 
 low here and another bungalow there, was all very well ; 
 but this going straight up, heaven knew where, into the 
 face of stupendous snowy mountains, up and down pre- 
 cipices, and among a Tartar people, was more than was 
 ever seriously bargained for. 
 
 I could not, then, in the least wonder, or think it un- 
 likely, that when it was found I was going beyond Pan- 
 gay, some attempt might be made to disable me a littie, 
 though without any intention of doing me serious injury. 
 However, I cannot speak with any certainty on that 
 subject. If the illness which I had at Pangay was not 
 the producing cause of the dysentery, it at least pre- 
 pared the way for -it. What was certain at Lippe was, 
 that I had to meet a violent attack of one of the most 
 dangerous and distressing of diseases. Unfortunately, 
 also, I had no medicine suited for it except a little 
 morphia, taken in case of an accident. Somehow, it 
 had never occurred to me that there was any chance of 
 my suffering from true dysentery among the mountains ; 
 and all the cases I have been able to hear of there, were 
 those of people who had brought it up with them from 
 the plains. I was determined not to go back — not to 
 turn on my journey, whatever I did ; and it occurred to 
 me that Mr Pageil, the Moravian missionary stationed 
 at Pu, near the Chinese border, and to whom I had a 
 letter of introduction from Mr Chapman, would be likely 
 to have the medicines which were all I required in order 
 to treat myself effectually. But Pu was several days' 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 99 
 
 journey off, more or less, according to the more or less 
 bad road which might be followed ; and the difficulty 
 was how to get there alive, so rapidly did the dysentery 
 develop itself, and so essential is complete repose in 
 order to deal with it under even the most favourable 
 circumstances. The morphia did not check it in the 
 least. Chlorodyne I was afraid to touch, owing to its 
 irritant quality; and I notice that Mr Henry Stanley 
 found not the least use from treating himself with it when 
 suffering from dysentery in Africa, though it is often 
 very good for diarrhcea. 
 
 The next day's journey, from Lippe to Sugnam, 
 would have been no joke even for an Alpine Clubsman. 
 It is usually made in two days' journey; but by send- 
 ing forward in advance, and having coolies from Lab- 
 rang and Kanam ready for us hklf way, we managed to 
 accomplish it in one day of twelve hours' almost con- 
 tinuous work. The pa':h went over the Ruhang or 
 Rognang Pass, which is 14,354 feet high ; and as Lippe 
 and Sugnam are about 9000 feet high, that would give 
 an ascent and descent of about 5300 feet each. But 
 there are two considerable descents to be made on the 
 way from Lippe to the sum.mit of the pass, and a 
 smaller descent before reaching Sugnam, so that the 
 Ruliang Pass really involves an ascent of over 8000 
 feet, and a descent of the same number. 
 
 Here, for the first time, I saw and made use of the 
 valc_arjwakl ox oX^Tibet, tlie Bos grtmniens, or grunting 
 ox, the Bos poephagiis and the 7roi^ayo<; of Arrian. It 
 certainly is a magnificent animal, and one of the finest 
 creatures of the bovine species. In the Zoological 
 Gardens at Schonbrunn, near Vienna, there are some 
 specimens of yaks from Siberia ; but they are small, 
 and are not to be compared with the great yak of the 
 Himaliya, the back of which is more like an elephant's 
 
100 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 than anything else. The shortness of its legs takes 
 away somewhat from its stature ; and so does its thick 
 covering of fine black and white hair, but that adds 
 greatly to its beauty. Indeed, it is the shaggy hair and 
 savage eye of the yak which make its appearance so 
 striking, for the head is not large, and the horns are 
 poor. The tail is a splendid feature, and the white tails 
 of yaks are valuable as articles of commerce. The zo-po, 
 on which I often rode, is a hybrid between the yak 
 and the female Bos Indiais, or common Indian cow. It 
 is considered more docile than the yak, and its appear- 
 ance is often very beautiful. Curiously enough, when 
 the yak and the zo-po are taken to the plains of India, 
 or even to the Kiilu valley, which is over 3000 feet high, 
 they die of liver-disease ; and they can flourish only in 
 cold snowy regions. I was not fortunate enough to see 
 any of the wild yaks, which are said to exist on the 
 plains of the upper Sutlej in Chinese Tibet, and in some 
 parts of Ladak. I heard, however, of their being shot, 
 and that the way this was accomplished was by two 
 holes in the ground, communicating with each other 
 beneath, being prepared for the hunter in some place 
 where these animals are likely to pass. If the wild yak 
 is only wounded, it rushes, in its fury, to the hole from 
 whence the shot came, on which the hunter raises 
 his head and gun out of the other hole and fires 
 again. This rather ignoble game may go on for some 
 time, and the yak is described as being in a frenzy of 
 rage, trampling in the sides of the holes and tearing at 
 them with its horns. Even the yaks of burden, which 
 have been domesticated, or rather half domesticated, for 
 generations, are exceedingly wild, and the only way 
 they can be managed is by a rope attached by a ring 
 through the nose. I had scarcely had time at Lippe to 
 admire the yak which was brought for my use, than, the 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. loi 
 
 man in charge having dropped this rope, it made a 
 furious charge at me ; and I found afterwards that yaks 
 invariably did this whenever they got a chance, I can- 
 not say whether this was done because I was evidently 
 a stranger, or because they regarded me as the cause of 
 all their woes ; but certainly, as we went up that ter- 
 rible, and apparently endless Ruhang Pass, with one 
 man pulling at the yak's nose-ring in front, and another 
 progging it behind Avith the iron shod of my alpenstock, 
 the Bos grunniens had an uncommonly hard time of it, 
 especially when he tried to stop ; he did not keep 
 grunting without good reason therefore ; and I could 
 not help thinking that my Poephagus had been per- 
 fectly justified in his attempt to demolish me before 
 starting. 
 
 If my reader wants to get an idea of the comfort of 
 riding upon a yak, let him fasten two Prussian spiked 
 helmets close together along the back of a great bull, 
 and seat himself between them. That is the nearest 
 idea I can give of a yak's saddle, only it must be 
 understood that the helmets are connected on each side 
 by ribs of particularly hard wood. The sure-footed- 
 nes-s and the steady though slow ascent of these animals 
 up the most difficult passes are very remarkable. They 
 never rest upon a leg until they are sure they have got 
 a fair footing for it ; and, heavy as they appear, they 
 will carry burdens up places which even the ponies and 
 mules of the Alps would not attempt. There is a cer- 
 tain sense of safety in being on the back of a }'ak among 
 these mountains, such as one has in riding on an ele- 
 phant in a tiger-hunt ; you feel that nothing but a very 
 large rock, or the fall of half a mountain, or something 
 of that kind, will make it lose its footing; but it does 
 require some time for the physical man to get accus- 
 tomed to its saddle, to its broad back, and to its delibe- 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 rate motion when its rider is upon it, and not in a 
 position to be charged at. 
 
 So up I went on a yak along a'most curious pathway 
 which slanted across the face of an immense slate preci- 
 pice. From below it appeared impossible for any man 
 or animal to pass along it, and sometimes I had to dis- 
 mount, and even the saddle had to be taken off my 
 bulky steed, in order that it might find room to pass. 
 From the top of this precipice there was a descent of 
 about 800 feet, and then a tremendous pull up to what 
 I fancied was the top of the pass, but which was far 
 from being anything of the kind. The path then ran 
 along a ridge of slate at an elevation of about 13.000 
 feet, affording most splendid views both of the INIorang 
 Kailas and of the great mountains within the Lassa 
 territory. After a gradual descent, we came upon an 
 alp or grassy slope, where we were met by people from 
 Labrang and Kananj, all in their best attire, to conduct 
 us the remainder of the way to Sugnam. These moun- 
 taineers, some of whom were rather good-looking women, 
 tendered their assistance rather as an act of hospitality 
 than as a paid service ; and the money they were to 
 receive could hardly compensate them for the labour of 
 the journey. There is a Lamajmonastery at Kanam, in 
 which the Hungarian Csomo de Koros lived for a long 
 time when he commenced his studies of the Tibetan 
 language and literature. It is well known now that the 
 Magyars are a Tartar race, and that their language is 
 a Tartar language ; but thirty years ago that was only 
 beginning to appear, so Csomo de Koros wandered east- 
 ward in search of the congeners of his countrymen. 
 At that time Central Asia was more open to Europeans 
 than it has been of late years ; so he came by way of 
 Kaubul, and, on entering the inner Himaliya, found so 
 many affinities between the Tibetan language and that 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 103 
 
 of his countrymen, t?iat he concluded he had discovered 
 the original stem of the Magyar race. Years were 
 passed by him at Kanam, and at the still more secluded 
 monastery of Rjngdom, where I found he was v/ell re- 
 membered ; and Tie made himself a master of the Lama 
 religion and of the Tibetan language, besides preparing 
 a number of manuscripts regarding the Tibetan litera- 
 ture. But this did not content him, for he was anxious 
 to penetrate into Chinese Tibet as far as Lassa ; and 
 finding all his efforts to do so from Kunawar were frus- 
 trated, he went down into India, and ascended the 
 Himaliya again at Darjiling, with the intention of pene- 
 trating into Tibet from that point in disguise. At Dar- 
 jiling, however, he died suddenly — whether from the 
 effects of passing through the Terai, or from poison, or 
 from what cause, no one can say, nor have I been able 
 to learn what became of his manuscripts. I suppose 
 nobody at Darjiling knew anything about him ; and Dr 
 Stoliczka told me he had met some Hungarians who 
 had come to India in search of their lost relative Csomo, ] 
 and it was only by some accident he was able to tell ) 
 them where the Hungarian they sought was buried../ 
 Csomo de Koros published at Calcutta a Tibetan ) ^\ 
 Grammar in English, and also a Tibetan-English Die- ' 
 tionary ; but he had so far been anticipated by J. J. / v 
 Schniidt, who issued at Leipsic, in 1841, a "TibetTsc^^ 
 Deutsches Worterbuch, nebst Deutschem Wortregister." 
 This Schmidt was a merchant in Russia, at Sarepta, 
 neai- the Volga, where he learned the Mongolian lan- 
 guage, and then, from the Mongolian Lamas, acquired 
 the Tibetan, after which the Russian Government called 
 him to St Petersburg, where he published Mongolian 
 and Tibetan Grammars. A small but convenient litho- ^j*") 
 graphed Tibetan Grammar in English, and a Tibetan- \\ 
 English Vocabulary, were prepared some years ago by 
 
I04 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 the Rev. Mr Jaschke, of the Moravian Mission at Kae- 
 lang, in Lahoul ; but the latter of these will ere long be 
 superseded by the .elaborate and most valuable Tibetan- 
 German and Tibetan-English Dictionaries, with registers, 
 which this gentleman is now preparing and passing 
 through the press from his present residence at Herrn- 
 hut, in Saxony, the original, and central settlement of 
 the Moravian Brethren. I had the pleasure of meeting 
 with Herr Jaschke at Herrnhut a short time ago, and 
 found him far advanced with his Dictionaries ; and may 
 mention that sheets of them, so far as they have been 
 printed, are to be found in the East India Office Library. 
 But we are not at Herrnhut just now, but on a cold 
 windy plateau 13,000 feet high, with a gradual de- 
 scent before us to some white granite and mica-slate 
 precipices, which have to be painfully climbed up ; while 
 beyond, a steep and terribly long ascent leads up to a 
 great bank of snow, which must be crossed before it 
 is possible to commence the 5500 feet of descent upon 
 ^lignam. Feeling myself becoming weaker every hour, 
 I must confess that my heart almost failed me at this 
 prospect ; but to have remained at that altitude in the 
 state I was in would have been death ; so, after hastily 
 drinking some milk, which the pretty Kanam women 
 had been considerate enough to bring with them, we 
 pushed on. No yaks could go up the white precipice, 
 and there was nothing for it there but climbing with 
 such aid as ropes could give. High as we. were, the 
 heat and glare of the sun on these rocks was frightful ; 
 but as we got up the long slope beyond, and approached 
 the bank of snow, the sky darkened, and an intensely 
 cold and violent wind swept over the summit of the pass 
 from the fields of ice and snow around. There was no 
 difficulty in passing the bank of snow, which turned out 
 to be only patches of snow with a bare path between 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH 105 
 
 them; but at that height of 14,354 feet, or nearly as 
 high as the summit of Mont Blanc, with its rarefied air, 
 the effect of the violent icy wind was almost killing, and 
 we could not halt for a moment on the summit of the 
 pass or till we got hundreds of feet below it. Hitherto 
 I had been able to make little use of my dand}% but 
 now I could do little more than stick to it. This was 
 very hard on the bearers, who were totally unused to 
 the work. One poor man, after a little experience of 
 carrying me, actually roared and cried, the tears plough- 
 ing through the dirt of ages upon his cheeks (for these 
 people never wash), like mountain torrents down slopes 
 of dried mud. He seemed so much distressed, that I 
 allowed him to carry one of the kiltas instead ; on which 
 the other men told him that he would have to be con- 
 tent with two annas (threepence) instead of four, which 
 each bearer was to receive. To this he replied that 
 they might keep all the four annas to themselves, for 
 not forty times four would reconcile him to the work of 
 carrying the dandy. But the other men bore up most 
 manfully under an infliction which the}^ must have 
 regarded as sent to them by the very devil of devils. 
 They were zemindars, too, or small proprietors, well off 
 in the world, with flocks and herds of their own ; and 
 yet, for sixpence, they had to carry me (suspended from 
 a long bamboo, which tortured their unaccustomed 
 shoulders, and knocked them off their footing every 
 now and then) down a height of between 7000 and 8000 
 feet, along a steep corkscrew track, over shingle and 
 blocks of granite. How trifling these charges are, 
 though the work is so much more severe, compared 
 with the six francs a day we have to give to a Swiss 
 poriatina or chaise a poi'teur, with three francs for back 
 fare, and the six or eight francs for a guide on ordinary 
 excursions! Meanwhile, the individual suspended from 
 
io6 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 the bamboo was in scarcely a happier plight. I could 
 not help remembering a prediction of Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Moore's, that if I ever did reach Kashmir, or 
 anyzvhere, it would be suspended by the heels and neck 
 from a bamboo, with tongue hanging out of my mouth, 
 and eyes starting from their sockets. Things certainly 
 had an unpleasant appearance of coming to that pass, 
 and this reflection enabled me to endure the suffering 
 of the dandy-wallahs with some equanimity. Fortun- 
 ately, till we got near to Sugnam, there was no precipice 
 for them to drop me over ; and when we at last reached 
 one, and had to pass along the edge of it, I got out and 
 walked as well as I could, for I felt convinced that out- 
 raged human nature could not have resisted the temp- 
 tation ; and I also took the precaution of keeping the 
 most valuable looking man of the party in front of me 
 with my hand resting on his shoulder. 
 
 There is a route from Sugnam to Pu, by Lio and 
 Change, which takes over two 14,000 feet passes, and 
 probably would have been the best for me ; but we 
 had had enough of 14,000 feet for the time being, and 
 so I chose another route by Shaso, which was repre- 
 sented as shorter, but hard. It was a very small day's 
 journey from Sugnam (which is a large and very 
 wealthy village, inhabited by Tartars) to Shaso, and 
 the road was not particularly bad, though I had to be 
 carried across precipitous slopes where . there was 
 scarcely footing for the dandy-wallahs. My servants 
 had not recovered the Ruhang Pass, however ; and I 
 was so ill that I also was glad to rest the next day at 
 this strange little village in order to prepare for the for- 
 midable day's journey to Pu. Sha^Oj consists of only a 
 few houses and narrow terraced fields on the left bank 
 of the Darbung Lung-pa, with gigantic and almost pre- 
 cipitous mountains shading it on either side of the 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 107 
 
 stream. My tent was pitched on a narrow strip of 
 grass amid large willow-trees, apricot-trees, and vines, 
 which promised to bear a plentiful crop of large purple 
 grapes. It was here I engaged the servic.es of the youth 
 Nurdass, who proved so useful to me on my further 
 journey. A boy, to be generally useful, had been 
 engaged at Kotgarh ; and as no one except himself 
 could pronounce his name or anything like it, he was 
 dubbed "the Chokra," or simply boy. Of all things in 
 the world, he offered himself as a dhobi or washerman, 
 for certainly his washing did not begin at home ; and 
 he disappeared mysteriously the morning after his first 
 attempt in that line, and after we had gone only six 
 marches. Some clothes were given him to wash at 
 Nachar ; and whether it was the contemplation of these 
 clothes after he had washed them — a process which he 
 prolonged far into the night — or that he found the 
 journey and his work too much for him, or, as some 
 one said, he had seen a creditor to whom he owed five 
 rupees, — at all events, when we started in the morning 
 no Chokra was visible, and the only information about 
 him we could get was that he was luther gya — " gone 
 there " — our informant pointing up to a wilderness of 
 forest, rock, and snow. Nurdass was a very different 
 and much superior sort of youth. His father — or at 
 least his surviving father, for, though inhabited by an 
 outlying colony of Hindu Kunaits, polyandry flourishes 
 in Shaso — was a doctor as well as a small proprietor, 
 and his son had received such education as could be got 
 among the mountains. The youth, or boy as he looked 
 though fifteen years old, spoke Hindusthani very well, 
 as also Kunawari, and yet was never at a loss with any 
 of the Tibetan dialects we came to. He could go up 
 mountains like a wild cat, was not afraid to mount any 
 horse, and though he had never even seen a wheeled 
 
io8 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 carnage until we got to the plains of India, yet amid 
 the bustle and confusion of the railway stations he was 
 cool and collected as possible, and learned immediately 
 what to do there. He was equally at home in a small 
 boat on a rough day in Bombay harbour; and after see- 
 ing three steamers, compared them as critically with 
 one another as if he had been brought up to the iron- 
 trade, though there was nothing of the conceited ;/// 
 adniirari of the Chinaman about him, and he was full 
 of wonder and admiration. It was really a bold thing 
 for a little mountain youth of this kind to commit him- 
 self to an indefinitely long journey with people whom, 
 with the exception of Phooleyram, he- had never seen 
 before. His motive for doing so was a desire to see the 
 world and a hope of bettering his condition in it, for 
 there was no necessity for him to leave Shaso. There 
 was great lamentation when he left ; his mother and 
 sisters caressing him, and weeping over him, and be- 
 seeching us to take good care of him. The original 
 idea was that Nurdass should return to the Sutlej valley 
 along with Phooleyram, when that casteman of his 
 should leave us, whether in Spiti or Kashmir. But in 
 Chinese Tibet Phooleyram pulled the little fellow's ears 
 one night, and, in defence ,of this, most gratuitously 
 accused him of being tipsy, when, if anybody had been 
 indulging, it was only the Munshi himself. This made 
 me doubtful about sending him back the long way from 
 Kashmir to the Sutlej in company with Phooleyram 
 alone; and on speaking to him on the subject, I found 
 that he was quite frightened at the prospect, and was 
 not only willing but eager to go with me to Bombay, — 
 both because he wished to see a place of which he had 
 heard so much, and because the season was so far 
 advanced he was afraid he might not be able to reach 
 his own home before spring. So Nurdass came on 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 109 
 
 with me to Bombay, where he excited much interest 
 by his intelhgence and open disposition ; and I might 
 have taken him on farther with me had he been inclined 
 to go ; but he said that, though he was not afraid of the 
 kala pant, or dark water, }-et he would rather not go 
 with me then, because he had made a long enough 
 journey from his own country, and seen enough wonders 
 for the first time. Several distinguished persons on our 
 way down wished to take him into their employment ; 
 but one day he came to me crying, with his hand upon 
 his heart, saying that there was something there which 
 made him ill, and that he would die unless he got back 
 to his own pahar, or mountains. He could not have 
 heard of the hcinnveh of the Swiss, and I was struck by 
 his reference to the mountains in particular. 7'here was 
 evidently no affectation in the feelings he expressed ; 
 so, knowing his wonderful cleverness as a traveller, but 
 taking various precautions for his safety, which was 
 likely to be endangered by his confidence in mankind, 
 I sent him back from Bombay alone to the Himaliya, 
 and have been glad to hear of his having reached Kot- 
 garh, without any mishap, where, I am sure, the kin'd- 
 hearted Mr Rebsch would see that he was safely con- 
 voyed to his little village high up among the great 
 mountains. 
 
 Thus reinforced by a small but mighty man, we 
 started from Shaso at five in the morning of the 4th 
 July, and I managed to reach Pu at seven that night, 
 more dead than alive. The distance was only fourteen 
 miles, and the two first and the last two were so easy 
 that I was carried over them in my dand}^ ; but the 
 intervening ten were killing to one in my condition, for 
 the dandy was of no use upon them, and I had to trust 
 .entirely to my own hands and feet. These ten miles 
 took me exactly twelve hours, with only half an hour's 
 
THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 rest. The fastest of my party took nine hours to the 
 whole distance, so that I must have gone wonderfully 
 fast considering that I had rheumatism besides dysen- 
 ter}.', and could take nothing except a very little milk, 
 / either before starting or on the way. The track — for it 
 ■> could not be called a path, and even goats could hardly 
 / have got along many parts of it — ran across the face of 
 \ tremendous slate precipices, which rose up thousands of 
 \feet from the foaming and thundering Sutlej. Some 
 rough survey of these dhimg or cliffs was made, when it 
 was proposed to continue the Hindusthan and Tibet 
 road beyond Pangay, a project which has never been 
 , carried out ; and Mr Cregeen, executive engineer, says 
 of them, in No. CLXVI. of the " Professional Papers on 
 Indian Engineering," " in the fifth march to Spool,* the 
 , road must be taken across the cliffs which here line the 
 right bank of the Sutlej in magnificent wildness. The 
 native track across these cliffs, about 1500 feet above 
 the crossing for the Hindusthan and Tibet road, is con- 
 sidered the worst footpath in Bussahir. This march 
 will, I think, be the most expensive on the road ; the 
 whole of the cutting will be through hard rock." Any 
 one who has had some experience of the footpaths in 
 Bussahir may conceive what the worst of them is likely 
 to be, but still he may be unable to comprehend how it 
 is possible to get along faces of hard rock, thousands of 
 feet above their base, when there has been no cutting or 
 blasting either. It m.ust be remembered, however, that 
 though the precipices of the Himaliya look almost per- 
 pendicular from points where their entire gigantic pro- 
 
 f * Pii is the flame of this place, but the natives sometimes call it Pui, the 
 
 i being added merely for the sake of euphony, as the Chinese sometimes 
 
 change Shu, ^vater, into Shui. In the Trigonometrical Survey map it has 
 
 . been transformed into Spucli. Where Mr Cregeen found his version of it 
 
 I cannot conceive. 
 
VALLE V OF THE SHA DOW OF DEA TH. 1 1 1 
 
 portions can be seen, yet, on a closer examination, it 
 turns out that they are not quite perpendicular, and 
 have many ledges which can be taken advantage of by 
 the traveller. 
 
 In this case the weather had worn away the softer 
 parts of the slate, leaving the harder ends sticking out ; 
 and I declare that these, with the addition of a few ropes 
 of juniper-branches, were the only aids we had along 
 many parts of these precipices when I crossed them. 
 Where the protruding ends of slate were close together, 
 long slabs of slate were laid across them, forming a sort 
 of footpath such as might suit a chamois-hunter ; when 
 they were not sufficiently in line, or were too far distant 
 frorri each other, to allow of slabs being placed, we 
 worked our way from one protruding end of slate to 
 another as best we could ; and where a long interval of 
 twenty or thirty feet did not allow of this latter method 
 of progress, ropes of twisted juniper-branches had been 
 stretched from one protruding end to another, and slabs 
 of slate had been placed on these, with their inner ends 
 resting on any crevices which could be found in the pre- 
 cipice wall, thus forming a " footpath " with great gaps 
 in itj through which we could look down sometimes a 
 long distance, an4 which bent and shook beneath our 
 feet, allowing the slabs every now and then to drop out 
 and fall towards the Sutlej, till shattered into innumer- 
 able fragments. It was useless attempting to rely on a 
 rope at many of these places, for the men who would 
 have had to hold the rope could h'^rdly have found a 
 position from which to stand the least strain. Indeed, 
 the worst danger I met with was from a man officiously 
 trjnng to help me on one of these juniper-bridges, with 
 the result of nearl}^ bringing the whole concern down. 
 And if slabs of slate went out from underneath our feet, 
 not less did slabs of slate come crashing- down over and 
 
112 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 between our heads occasionally ; for it seemed to me 
 that the whole of that precipice had got into the habit 
 of detaching itself in fragments into the river beneath. 
 I may add, that having sent my servants on in front — 
 to set up my tent and make other preparations in case 
 of Mr Pagell being away, of which I had heard a ru- 
 rnour — I was entirely in the hands of the Siignam bigar- 
 ides^ of whose Tebarskad I hardly understood a word ; 
 and that the July sun beat upon the slate, so that every 
 breath from the rock was sickening. Beneath, there 
 were dark jagged precipices, and an almost sunless 
 torrent — so deeply is the Sutlej here sunk in its gorge — 
 foaming along at the rate of about twenty miles an 
 hour ; above there were frowning precipices and a 
 cloudless sky, across which some eagle or huge raven- 
 like Himaliyan crow occasionally jflitted. 
 
 I saw this footpath in an exceptionally bad state — for 
 it is only used in winter when the higher roads are im- 
 passable from snow ; and after all the damage of winter 
 and spring, it is not repaired until the beginning of 
 winter. But no repairing, short of blasting out galleries 
 in the face of the rock, could make much improvement 
 in it. It was not, however, the danger of this path 
 which made it frightful to me ; that only made it inter- 
 esting, and served as a stimulus. The mischief was that, 
 in my disabled and weak state, I had to exert myself 
 almost continuously on it for twelve hours in a burning 
 sun. The Sugnam men did all in their power to assist 
 me, and I could not but admire, and be deeply grateful 
 for, their patience and kindness. But the longest day 
 has an end, as Damiens said when he was taken out to 
 be tortured; and we reached Pu at last, my bearers, 
 as they approached it, sending up sounds not unlike 
 the Swiss j'ddel, which were replied to in similar fashion 
 by their companions who had reached the place before 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 113 
 
 them. Pu is a large villagej^ situated about a thousand 
 feet above the bed of the Sutlej, on the slope of a high, 
 steep mountain. I found that my tent had been pitched 
 on a long terraced field, well shaded with apricot-trees, 
 on the outskirts of the village, and that Mr Pagell, the 
 Moravian jiijssionary, was absent on a long journey he 
 was making in Spith Mrs Pa.gell, it appeared, was 
 living with some native Christians near by, in a house 
 guarded by ferocious dog's ;~^ut as she spoke neither 
 English nor Hindusthani, only German and Tibetan, 
 Silas had been unable to communicate with her, and the 
 use of Nurdass as an interpreter had not then been dis- 
 covered. This was serious news for a man in my con- 
 dition;" but I was in too deathlike a state to do any- 
 thing, and lying down in my tent, did not make any 
 attempt to leave it until the day after next. 
 
 When able, I staggered up to Mrs Pagell's residence, 
 and explained the position I was in. She at once gave 
 me access to her husband's store of medicines, where I 
 found all I required to treat myself with — calomel, steel, 
 chalk, Dover's powder, and, above all, pure ipecacuanha, 
 which nauseous medicine was to me like a spring of 
 living water in a dry and thirsty land, for I knew well 
 that it was the only drug to be relied on for dysentery. 
 This good MorayiarL sister was distressed at having no 
 proper accommodation in her house for me ; but, other- 
 wise, she placed all its resources at my disposal, and 
 soon sent off a letter to be forwarded from village to 
 village in search of her husband. Considering that, in 
 ten years, Mrs Pagell had seldom seen a European, it 
 was only to be expected that she should be a little flus- 
 tered and at a loss what to do ; but her kindness was 
 genuine, and I was greatly indebted to her. 
 
 I had hoped, by this time, to be leaving the Valley of 
 the Shadow of Death, its rock heat and its ever-roaring 
 
 H 
 
114 THE ABODE OF SNOW, 
 
 torrent, but had to remain in it for a month longer, 
 lying on my back.' I reached Pii on the 4th July, and 
 Mr Pagell did not arrive until the 25th of the month ; 
 so that for three weeks, and during the critical period of 
 the disease, I had to be my own doctor, and almost my 
 own sick-nurse. Only those who have experienced acute 
 dysentery can know how dreadfully trying and harassing 
 it is ; and the servants of the heroic Livingstone have 
 told how, in the later stages of it, he could do nothing 
 but groan day and night. Then the ipecacuanha, which 
 I had to take in enormous doses before I could contrive 
 to turn the disease, kept me in a state of the greatest 
 feebleness and sickness. The apricot-trees afforded 
 grateful shade, but they harboured hosts of sand-flies, 
 which tormented me all night, while swarms of the com- 
 mon black fly kept me from sleeping during the day. 
 There were numbers of scorpions under the stones around, 
 both the grey scorpion and the large black scorpion 
 with its deadly sting, of the effects of which Vambery 
 has given such a painful account. Curiously, too, this 
 was the only place in the Himaliya where I ever heard 
 of there being serpents ; but long serpents there were — 
 six feet long — gliding before my open tent at night. 
 This was no dream of delirium, for one was killed quite 
 close to it and brought to me for examination ; and a 
 few weeks after, Mr Pagell killed another in his veran- 
 dah. I was far too ill to examine whether my serpent 
 had poison-fangs or not, and was fain to be content with 
 an assurance that the people of Pii were not afraid of 
 these long snakes ; but the Moravian found that the one 
 he killed had fangs, and at all events it was not pleasant, 
 even for a half-dead man, either to see them in moon- 
 light, or hear them in darkness, gliding about his tent. 
 One end of the field in front of me touched on a shiall 
 forest, which ran up a steep valley, and was likely to 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 115 
 
 harbour wild beasts. The position was lonely, also, for 
 Ihad to make my servants camp a little way off, on the 
 side away from the forest, in order not to be disturbed 
 by their talking and disputing, or by their visitors; and 
 so, weak as I was, they were barely within call even when 
 awake. But I was much disturbed bythe singing and howl- 
 ing of a number of Chinese Tartars who had come over the 
 border on a pilgrimage to the Lama temple in Pu. These 
 pious persons were silent all day till about two or three 
 in the afternoon, when they commenced their infernal- 
 revels, and (with the aid of potent liquor, I was told) 
 kept up their singing and dancing for several nights till 
 morning. In addition to all this, huge savage Tibetan 
 dogs used to come down the mountain-sides from a 
 Lama nuiinery above, and prowl round my tent, or 
 poke into it, in search of what they could find ; and the 
 letting them loose at all was highly improper conduct 
 on the part of the virtuous sisterhood. One splendid 
 red dog came down regularly, with long leaps, which I 
 could hear distinctly ; and I had quite an affection for 
 him, until, one night, I was awakened from an uneasy 
 slumber by finding his mouth fumbling at my throat, in 
 order to see if I was cold enough for his purposes. This 
 was a little too much, so I told Silas to watch for it and 
 pepper it with small shot from a distance ; but, either 
 accidentally or by design, he shot it in the side from 
 close quarters, killing it on the spot, its life issuing out 
 of it in one grand, hoarse, indignant roar. Possibly it 
 occurred to my servant that the small shot from a dis- 
 tance might be a rather unsafe proceeding. As if these 
 things were not enough, I had a visitor of another kind 
 one night, who puzzled me not a little at first, I was 
 lying awake, exhausted by one of the paroxysms of my 
 illness, when a large strange-looking figure stepped into 
 the moonlight just before my tent, and moved about 
 
ii6 THE ABODE OF Si\OW. 
 
 there with the unsteady swaying motion of a drunken 
 man, and witli its back towards me. My first idea was 
 that this was one of the Chinese Tartars encamped 
 beside the temple, who had come in his sheepskin coat 
 to treat me to a war-dance, or to see what he could pick 
 up ; and so I let my hand fall noiselessly over the side 
 of the couch, upon the box which held my revolver. It 
 was only natural that I should think so, because it is 
 very rarely that any animal, except homo sapiens^ moves 
 erect upon its hind legs, or, I may add, gets drunk. 
 But still there was something not human in the move- 
 ments of this creature, and when it began slowly to 
 climb up one of the apricot-trees in a curious fashion, I 
 could not help exclaiming aloud, " Good heavens ! what 
 have we got now?" On this it turned round its long 
 head and gave a ferocious growl, enabling me both to 
 see and hear that it was one of the great snow-bears 
 which infest the high mountains, but seldom enter, and only 
 , by stealth, the villages. I thought it prudent to make no 
 more remarks ; and after another warning growl, evi- 
 dently intended to intimate that it was not going to be 
 balked of its supper, the bear continued up the tree, and 
 commenced feasting on the apricots. As may be sup- 
 posed, I watched somewhat anxiously for its descent ; 
 and as it came down the trunk, the thought seemed to 
 strike it that a base advantage might be taken of its 
 position, for it halted for an instant, and gave another 
 warning growl. It repeated this manoeuvre as it passed 
 my tent, on its four legs this time, but otherwise took no 
 notice of me ; and there was a curious sense of perilous 
 wrong-doing about the creature, as if it were conscious * 
 that the temptation of the apricots had led it into a place 
 where it ought not to have been. I did not mention this 
 circumstance to Silas, for he was extremely anxious to have 
 a shot at a bear, and I was just as anxious that he should 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 117 
 
 not, because he had no sufficient quaHfication for such 
 dangerous sport, and to have wounded a bear would 
 only have resulted in its killing him, and perhaps sofne 
 more of us. After that, however, though never troubled 
 with another visit of the kind, I had a sort of barricade 
 made at night with my table and other articles in front 
 of the tent, so that I might not be taken unawares ; for 
 my visitor was not a little Indian black bear, or even an 
 ordinary Tibetan bear, but a formidable specimen of the 
 yellow or snow bear [Ursus Isabellimis), which usually 
 keeps above the snow-line, is highly carnivorous in its 
 habits, and often kills the yaks of Pu, and of other vil- 
 lages, when they are sent to graze in summer upon the 
 high alp. Shortly after this I discovered that the way 
 to deal with the horrible irritation of the sand-flies was to 
 have my tent closed at night, and to smoke them out of it 
 with burning fagots, which almost entirely freed me from 
 their annoyance, and was an immense relief, though the 
 plan had some disadvantages of its own, because I did 
 not like to strike a light for fear of attracting the sand- 
 flies ; and so the moving of creatures about and inside 
 my tent became doubly unpleasant when there was little 
 or no moon, for in the darkness I could not tell what 
 they might be. 
 
 It was in this way that I spent the month of July, 
 when I had hoped to be travelling in Chinese Tibet. 
 Trying as this combination of horrors was, I think it did 
 me good rather than harm, for it made life more desir- 
 able than it might otherwise have appeared, and so pre- 
 vented me succumbing to the disease which had got all 
 but a fatal hold of me. Moreover, the one visitor neu- 
 tralised the effect of the other : you cease to care about 
 scorpions when you see long snakes moving about you 
 at night, and Tibetan mastiffs are insignificant after the 
 visit of an Ursus Isabellimts. During this trying period 
 
ir8 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 Mrs Pagell paid me a short visit every day or two, and 
 did all in her power to afford medical comforts. My 
 servants also were anxious to do all they could, but 
 they did not know what to do ; and I was scarcely able 
 to direct them to do more than weigh out medicines and 
 to leave me as undisturbed as possible, complete repose 
 being almost essential to recovery. I could only lie 
 there, remembering the lines — 
 
 " So he bent not a muscle, but hung there, 
 
 As, cauj^ht in his pangs 
 And waiting his change, the king-serpent 
 
 All heavily hangs, 
 Far away from his kind, in the pine. 
 
 Till deliverance come." 
 
 After I had recovered, and we were away from PiS 
 Mr Pagell told me, with a slightly humorous twinkle in 
 his eye, and being guilty of a little conjugal infidelity, 
 that one great cause of his wife's anxiety on my account 
 was that she did not know where I was to be buried, or 
 how a coffin was to be made for me. About the loth 
 and 1 2th of July it looked very like as if the time had 
 come for arrangements of that kind being made; and 
 poor Mrs Pagell was, naturally enough, greatly at a loss 
 what to do in the absence of her husband. Ground is 
 very valuable at Pu, and difficult to be had, being en- 
 tirely artificial, and terraced up on the mountain-side. 
 For a stranger to occupy any portion of it in perpetuity 
 would have been a serious and expensive matter ; and 
 Moravian feeling revolted at the idea of grcwing vege- 
 tables or buckwheat over my grave. Then, as every- 
 thing should be done decently and in order, the ques- 
 tion as to a coffin was very perplexing. Had the prac- 
 tical missionary himself been there, he could at least 
 have supervised the construction of one by the Pu car- 
 penters; but his wife felt quite unequal to that, and was 
 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEA TH 119 
 
 much distressed in consequence. Had I known of this 
 anxiety, I could have put her mind at rest, because it 
 never occurred to me that, in the circumstances, there- 
 sponsibihty of making arrangements would fall upon 
 any one except myself. Death never appeared to my- 
 self so near as the people beside me believed it to be; 
 and my determination was, if it became inevitable, to 
 make arrangements to have my body carried up, with- 
 out a coffin, high up the mountains above the snow-line, 
 I had fully considered how this could have been ensured, 
 and have always had a fancy, nay, something more than 
 a fancy, to be so disposed of, far away from men and 
 their ways. There are wishes of this kind which, I be- 
 lieve, have a real relationship to the future, though the 
 connection may be too subtile to be clearly traced. 
 There is a twofold idea in death, by virtue of which man 
 still attaches himself to the earth while his spirit may 
 look forward to brighter worlds; and for me it was a real 
 consolation to think of myself resting up there among 
 the high peaks — • 
 
 " There, watched by silence and by night, 
 And folded in the strong embrace 
 Of the great mountains, with the light 
 Of the sweet heavens upon my face." 
 
 But it had not come to that. By day I watched the 
 
 sunbeams slanting through the apricot-trees, or looked 
 up longingly to the green slopes and white snows of the 
 "Windy Peak" of Gerard's map. Eve after eve I saw 
 the sunlight receding up the wild precipices and fading 
 on the snowy summits. Night after night the most 
 baleful of the constellations drew its horrid length 
 across a space of open sky between the trees, and its red 
 star, Coi'- Scarpa, glared down upon my sick-bed like a 
 malignant eye in heaven. And while the crash of fall- 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 ing rocks and the movements of stealthy wild creatures 
 were occasionally heard, night and day there ever rose 
 from beneath the dull thunderous sound of the Sutlej, 
 to remiild me, if that were needed, that I was still in the 
 Valley of the Shadow of Death. 
 
CHAPTER iX. 
 
 CHINESE TARTARS. 
 
 Just after I had managed to get the better of my ill- 
 ness, but was still in danger from it, and confined to my 
 cot, Mr Pagell arrived, having been recalled from a place 
 in Spiti, ten days' journey off, by the letter which his 
 wife forwarded to him. I found the Moravian mis- v 
 sionary to be a strong, active, and cheerful man ; no | 
 great scholar, perhaps, but with a considerable know- \ 
 ledge of English, able to speak Tibetan fluently, ac- | 
 quainted with the Lama religion, well liked by the 
 people of the country, and versed in the arts which were 
 so necessary for a man in his isolated and trying posi- 
 tion. He had been established, with Mrs Pagell, at Pu V) 
 for about ten years ; and, before that, had spent some 
 years in the Moravian mission at Kaelang in Lahaul, 
 whei^aLsQ. Tibetan is spoken. The house he had con- 
 structed for himserjE7or, at least, had supervised the con- 
 struction of, was small, but it was strongly built, the 
 thick beams having been brought from a distance, and 
 was well fitted to keep out the cold of winter, though 
 not so agreeable as a summer residence. There was a 
 sniall chapel in his compound, in which service was con- 
 ducted on Sundays for the benefit of the few Christians, 
 and of any strangers or people of the place who might 
 choose to attend. Christianity has not made much pro- 
 gress at Pu, but this is to be attributed to the entire 
 contentment of the people with their own religion, 
 rather than to any want of zeal or ability on the part 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 of the missionary. Besides himself and his wife, two or 
 three men, with their families, constituted the entire 
 Christian community ; and of these one was the here- 
 ditary executioner of Kunawar, the office having been 
 abohshed during the hfetime of his father; while of 
 another, a true Tibetan, who acted as a house servant, 
 Mrs Pagell said that he was a scJiande, or scandal, to the 
 Christian name, from his habits of begging and borrow- 
 ing money "right and left. The good lady's opinion of 
 the people among whom she dwelt, whether Christians 
 or Budhists, was lower than that of her husband ; and, 
 in particular, she accused them of being very ungrateful. 
 I saw a little to show me that they were so — and even 
 Mr Pagell admitted that; but, as a rule, he was inclined 
 to take their part, to regard them in a kindly manner, 
 and to find excuses for their faults — even for their poly- 
 andr}^— in the circumstances of their life. A youth, 
 christened Benjamin, who accompanied us for some days 
 on our further journey, seemed the best of the Chris- 
 tians, and I think he was glad to get away for a time 
 in order to escape from the hateful practice which Mrs 
 Pagell compelled him to undergo, of washing his hands 
 and face every morning. In language, dress, religion, 
 and manners, the people are thoroughly Tibetan ; and 
 though they are nominally subject to the Rajah of 
 Bussahir, yet their village is so difficult of access that 
 they pay little regard to his commands. Mr Pagell 
 
 [estimated the population at about 600, but I should 
 have thought there were more, and perhaps he meant 
 
 . families. There is so much cultivation at Pii that the 
 place must be tolerably wealthy. During my stay 
 there, most of the men were away trading in Chinese 
 Tibet and Ladak, and I could not but admire tlie.,won- 
 derful industry of the women. There were some fields 
 before my tent in which they worked literally day and 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 
 
 night, in order to lose no tirrie in getting the grain cut, 
 and in preparing the ground for a second crop, one of 
 buckwheat. Besides labouring at this the whole day, 
 they returned to their fields after dinner in the evening, 
 and worked there, with the aid of torches of resinous 
 pine-wood, until one or two in the morning. The enor- 
 mous flocks ofj3lue pigeons must have caused great loss 
 in the grain harvest. There are vines at Pu, and very 
 good tobacco, but when prepared for smoking it is not 
 properly dried, and remains of a green colour. I found 
 that this tobacco when well sieved, so as to free it from 
 the dust and pieces of stalk, afforded capital smoking 
 material, and I prefer it to Turkish tobacco. 
 
 Mr Pagell's society assisted me in recovery, and I was 
 soon able to sit up during the day in front of my tent 
 in an easy-chair, with which he furnished me ; and on 
 the 30th of July I was able to visit his house. But I 
 knew that my recovery would go on much more rapidly 
 if I could get up to some of the heights above the Sutlej 
 valley. Though Pd is about 10,000 feet high, it is in 
 the Sutlej valley, and has not a very healthy climate 
 in August, so I was anxious to leave it as soon as at 
 all possible. Seeing my weak state, Mr Pagell kindly 
 offered to accompany me for a few days, and I was glad 
 to have his companionship. On the afternoon of the 
 5th August we set off for Shipki, in Chinese Tibet, with 
 the design of reaching it in four easy stages. Three 
 hours and a half took us to our first camping-place, on 
 some level ground beyond Dab-Ung', and underneath the 
 village of Dubling — places the names of which have been 
 transposed by the Trigonometrical Survey. To reach 
 this, we had to descend froni Pu tg,the^Sutlej, and cross 
 that river upon a sangpa, or very peculiar kind of 
 wooden bridge. The Sutlej itself is here known to the 
 TiJDetans usually by the name of Sang-po, or " the 
 
124 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 river ; " and I notice that travellers and map-makers are 
 apt to get confused about these words, sometimes setting 
 down a bridge as " the Sangpa bridge," and a river as 
 " the Sangpo river." I have called the-.__Namtu,iiridge, 
 as it is named, beneath Pii peculiar; because, though 
 about 80 feet above the stream, which is there over 100 
 feet across, it is only about three or four feet broad in 
 the middle, is very shaky, and has no railing of any kind 
 to prevent one going over it, and being lost in the foam- 
 ing torrent below. A Pui yak once survived a fall from 
 this bridge, being swept into a backwater there is a little 
 way down the stream ; but that was a mere chance, and 
 the Bos grunniens can stand a great deal of knocking 
 about. These bridges are constructed by large strong 
 beams being pushed over one another, from both sides, 
 until they approach sufficiently to allow of the topmost 
 beams being connected by long planks. So rapid is the 
 
 I river below this bridge that Gerard was unable to fathom 
 
 ' it with a lo-lb. lead. The path from it towards the 
 Chinese frontier kept up the left bank of the Sutlej, and 
 not far above it, over tolerably level ground. The pieces 
 
 , of roclc in the way were unpleasant for dandy-travelling ; 
 but it would take little labour to make a good road from 
 
 - beneath Pu to opposite the junction of the Sutlej and 
 the Spiti river, there being a kind of broad ledge all the 
 
 j way along the left bank of the former stream, but, for 
 
 the most part, a i&v^ hundred feet above it. Though 
 
 easier for travelling, yet the Sutlej valley became wilder 
 
 than ever as we advanced up it, though not so chaotic 
 
 as lower down. On the side opposite to us there, were 
 
 ! almost perpendicular precipices thousands of feet in 
 
 i height, and the clay and mica-schist strata (interspersed 
 
 \ here and there with granite) were twisted in the most 
 
 grotesque manner. Shortly before, a Pu hunter had 
 
 been killed bv falling over these cliffs when in search of 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 125 
 
 ibex. Above this precipice-wall high peaks were occa- 
 sionally visible, but in our neighbourhood there was no- 
 thing but rocks and precipices, the foaming river, moun- 
 tain torrents crossing the path, and a few edible pines 
 junipers, and tufts of fragrant thyme. 
 
 On the next day to Khalb, a short journey of four 
 hours, the Sutlej gorge appeared still deeper and nar- 
 rower. Quartz-rock became more plentiful, and, curi- 
 ously enough, we passed a vein of very soft limestone. 
 Some of the mountain streams were rather difficult to 
 pass, and one of them had to be crossed on two poles 
 thrown over it, though to have fallen into the torrent 
 would have been utter destruction. At Khalb there is 
 a most picturesque camping-ground, amid huge granite 
 boulders, and well shaded by pines and junipers. It is 
 opposite and immediately above one of the most extra- 
 ordinary scenes in the world — the junction of the Sutlej, 
 and the Lee or Spiti river. You cannot get near the 
 junction at all, and there are few points from which you 
 can even see it, so deeply is it sunk between close mural 
 precipices ; but you can look down towards it and see 
 that the junction must be there. These two rivers have 
 all the appearance of having cut their way down through 
 hundreds of feet of solid rock strata. Even below the 
 great precipices they seem to have eaten down their way 
 and made deep chasms. I do not venture to say posi- 
 tively that such has been the case ; but the phenomena 
 presented are v/ell worthy of the special attention of 
 geologists ; because, if these rivers have cut the passages 
 which they appear to have cut, then a good deal more 
 effect may be reasonably ascribed than is usually 
 allowed to the action of water in giving the surface of 
 our globe its present shape. But, though not positive, 
 I am inclined to believe that the Lee and the Sutlej 
 have cut a perpendicular gorge for themselves from a 
 
126 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 little below Khalb down to the present level of their 
 waters — a distance, roughly speaking, of about 1200 
 feet, and this becomes more credible on considering the 
 structure of the rock. Gerard fell into the mistake 
 (pardonable in his day) of calling it " stratified granite." 
 Across the Chinese border the mountains are rolling 
 plains of quartz and whitish granite, and probably con- 
 tain great gold deposits ; but at the confluence of the 
 Spiti river and the Sutlej, the rock is slate and schist 
 strata containing veins and detached blocks of granite 
 and quartz, and also various zeolites. These slates and 
 schists are for the most part rather soft, and the whole 
 strata have been so much disturbed by the process of 
 elevation that they are peculiarly open to the action of 
 disintegrating influences. The weather has broken it 
 down greatly wherever there is an exposed surface, and 
 extremely rapid rivers might eat their way down into it 
 with considerable ease. Even the veins and blocks of 
 solid granite and quartz which are interspersed among 
 the strata, are calculated to aid rather than to hinder 
 such a process. Though the Himaliya are at once the 
 highest and the most extensive mountains in the world, 
 yet there is some reason to believe that they are among 
 the youngest ; and this explains the present state of 
 their narrow deep valleys. Their rivers carry out from 
 them an immense amount of solid matter every year, 
 but the process has not continued long enough to allow 
 of the formation of broad valleys. Hence we have little 
 more in the Himaliya than immense ravines or gorges. 
 A valley there is something like the interior of the 
 letter V, only the farther down you go, the more nearly 
 perpendicular are its sides,, while above 12,000 feet there 
 is some chance of finding open, rounded, grassy slopes. 
 There are also some comparatively open or fiat valle5'S 
 to be found above 12,000 feet ; for at that height, where 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 127 
 
 everything is frozen up during great part of the year, 
 there are no large rivers, and no great action of water in 
 any way. 
 
 At this junction of the two rivers there is an outstand- 
 ing end of rock wall, which is pretty sure in course of 
 time to cause a cataclysm similar to what occurred on 
 the Sutlej in the year 1762 below Kunawar province, 
 when a shoulder of a mountain gave way and Tell into 
 the gorge, damming up the stream to a height of 400 feet 
 above its normal level. Similar events have occurred in 
 the upper Indus valley, but these were caused by aval- 
 anches of snow or ice. In the case to which I allude, 
 and as will be the case at the junction of the Lee and 
 Sutlej, the fall of a portion of the mountain itself caused 
 the cataclysm ; and when the obstruction .gave way, 
 which it did suddenly, villages and towns were de- 
 stroyed by the tremendous rush of water. The Lee is 
 almost as inaccessible and furious as the Sutlej, but it 
 has calm pools, and its water is of a pleasant greenish 
 hue, which contrasts favourably with the turbid, whitish- 
 yellow of the latter stream. I may mention that I have 
 written oi the Spiti river as the Lee, or Li, because it 
 has got by that name into the maps ; but it is not so 
 called by the people of the country, and the name has 
 probably arisen from a confused localising of it with the 
 village of \A or Lio, which is to be found a short way 
 above the confluence. On both sides of the Chinese 
 border they call the Spiti river the Mapzja JzazJiolmo. 
 The former of these words means a peacock, but what 
 the connection is I do not know. It must be admitted, 
 however, that Mapzja Jzazholmo are not sounds well 
 fitted to make their way with the general public, so I 
 shall continue to speak of the Lee or Spiti river. I may 
 also be excused from calling the Sutlej the I.angchJien- 
 kJiabad^ or "elephant-mouth-fed" river, which General 
 
128 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 Cunningham asserts is the Tibetan name for the Sutlej ; 
 though all the Tibetans I questioned on the subject 
 spoke of it either as the Sangpo, or as the Singf Sangpo. 
 In fact, there seem to be numerous local names for the 
 rivers in that part of the world, and it would be hazard- 
 ous to insist on any one in particular. 
 
 From Khalb there are two ways of getting to Shipki ; 
 the one over the_JECung-ma Pass, which is 1 6,000 feet 
 high, and the other up the gorge of the Sutlej, across 
 the face of its precipitous cliffs, and over the dreaded 
 Oopsung Gorge. The latter road is never used v/hen 
 the snow will at all allow of the high pass being crossed ; 
 and — ^judging from what I saw of it afterwards, from the 
 mountain Li'o Porgyul on the opposite side of the river 
 — it must'HeliearTy'as bad as the path from Shaso to Pu. 
 The cliffs, however, on which the path runs must be 
 interesting to the geologist. They are often of a bluish 
 and of a purple colour ; they present a brilliant and 
 dazzling appearance from the zeolites with which they 
 abound, and probably have other and rarer minerals. 
 But the Kung-ma Pass, above the height of Mont Blanc 
 though it be, is the only tolerable way of crossing_into 
 Chinese Tibet from Pii ; and to toil over a i6,ooo feet 
 pass lii one day is not desirable for an invalid, even 
 though starting from a height of about I0;000 feet. So, 
 after procuring yaks and coolies, for the passage into 
 Tartary, from the villages of JChalb and Namgea, we 
 resolved to camp some way up on the pass, and to take 
 two days to the business. This can easily be done, be- 
 cause at the height of about 12,500 feet there are a few 
 terraced fields belonging to Namgea, and called Namgea 
 Rizhing, with sufificient room to pitch a small tent upon, 
 and with plenty of water and bushes fit for firewood. 
 
 At this height the air was very pure and exhilarating, 
 but the sun beat upon our tents in the afternoon so as 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 129 
 
 to raise the thermometer within them to 82° Fahrenheit ; 
 but almost immediately after the sun sank behind the 
 Spiti mountains, the thermometer fell to 60°. I do not 
 think it got much lower, however, for at daybreak it 
 was 54°. Evening- brought also a perfect calm, which 
 was^ most welcome after the violent wind of the day ; 
 but the wind rose again during the night, which for- 
 tunately does not usually happen in the Himaliya, 
 otherwise existence there in tents would be almost in- 
 supportable. From the little shelf on which we camped, 
 as also, to some extent, from Khalb and Namgea be- 
 neath, the view was savage and grand beyond descrip- 
 tion. There was a mountain before us, visible in all its 
 terrific majesty. The view up the Spiti valley had a 
 wild beauty of its own, and ended in blue peaks, at this 
 season nearly free from snow ; but the surprising scene 
 before us was on the left bank of the Spiti river, and 
 on the right of the Sutlej, or that opposite to which we 
 were. A mountain rose there almost sheer up from the ) 
 Sutlej, or from 9000 feet to the height of 22,183 ^cs^; in \ 
 gigantic walls, towers, and aiguilles of cream-coloured 
 granite and quartz, which had all the appearance of 
 marble. At various places a stone might have rolled 
 from the summit of it down into the river, a descent of 
 over 13,000 feet. In appearance it was something like 
 Milan Cathedral divested of its loftiest spire, and 
 magnified many million times, until it reached the 
 height of 12,000 feet ; and I either noticed or heard 
 severa-1 great falls of rock down its precipitous sides, 
 during the eight days I was on it or in its immediate 
 neighbourhood. Here and there the w^iite rock was 
 streaked with snow, and it was capped by an enormous 
 citadel with srnall beds of neve; but there was very little 
 snow upon the gigantic mass of rock, because the furi- 
 ous winds which for ever beat and howl around it allow 
 
 I 
 
I30 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 but little snow to find a resting-place there. At Shipki 
 they told- us that even in winter Lio Porgyul, as this 
 mountain is called, presents much the same appearance 
 as it had when we saw it. Half of it rests on Chinese 
 Tartary, and the other half on Hangrang, a province 
 which was ceded by the Chinese less than a century 
 ago to the Rajah of Bussahir ; so that Lio Porgyul 
 might well be regarded as a great fortress between Iran 
 and Turan, between the dominions of the Aryan and 
 the Tartar race. Even more remarkably than the 
 Kailas, it suggested an inaccessible dwelling-place of 
 the gods, a fortress shaped by hands, but not by human 
 hands. And if the scene was impressive by day, it was 
 absolutely overpowering at night, when the orb of night 
 was slowly rising behind the dark precipices on which 
 we midway stood. While itself unseen, the moon's 
 white light illuminated the deep gorges of the Spiti 
 river, and threw a silvery' splendour on the marble-like 
 towers and battlements of Lio Porgyul. It did not at 
 all appear as if any external light were falling, but 
 rather as if this great castle of the gods, being trans- 
 parent as alabaster, were lighted up from within, and 
 shone in its own radiance, throwing its supernatural 
 light on the savage scenes around. 
 
 The word ma in Chinese means a horse, and it is pos- 
 sible that the Kung-ma may mean the Horse Pass, in 
 contradistinction to the path across the cliffs of the 
 Sutlej, along which horses cannot go ; but I am by no 
 means sure of this derivation. Be that as it may, horses 
 or some animals are needed on the stiff pull up to the 
 top of it in a highly rarefied air. Here we found the 
 immense advantage of our A^JiS^ and " the comfort " of 
 riding upon them. They grunted at almost every step, 
 and moved slowly enough, but on they went steadily, 
 seldom stopping to rest. Chota Khan, who had not 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 
 
 131 
 
 been provided with a yalc, was extremely indignant at 
 the exertion which his large body had to make, and I 
 regretted not having been more liberal towards him. 
 As we got up towards the 16,000 feet summit, the effect 
 of the rarefied air compelled him to pause at every step, 
 and quite bewildered him. He and one or two other 
 of our people, also, began bleeding at the nose. These 
 phenomena, together with the novel sight of a glacier 
 hanging above us near the top of the pass, had such an 
 effect upon the bold Afghan, that, at one point, he sat 
 down and cried, lamenting his fate, and cursing every- 
 body and everything in general, the word Sheitan, or 
 " devil," being especially conspicuous in his language. 
 That was only a momentary weakness, however ; for on 
 getting down the Chinese side of the pass he quite re- 
 covered his spirits ; he went down rollicking and sing- 
 ing, and was the first to enter ^he dreaded Shipki, where 
 some Tartar young women speedily brought him to his 
 bearings and threw him into a state of great perplexity. 
 It took us nearly ten hours to reach Shipki from 
 Namgea Fields, and we started at four in the morning 
 in order to escape the full effect of the sun's rays when 
 ascending the pass, which involved no rock-climbing, 
 but a continuous and very steep ascent up a corkscrew 
 path, which was the best I had seen since leaving Pan- 
 gay. Though the air, generally speaking, is quite cool 
 and invigorating at these great elevations, yet the re- 
 flected and radiating rock-heat is sometimes exceed- 
 ingly oppressive ; and so powerful are the rays of the 
 sun in summer, that exposure to them, or even to a 
 good reflection of them, will destroy the skin of the 
 hands or face of a European in five minutes, or even 
 less. We were all a little ill after crossing this pass, 
 and I ascribe that not so much to the exertion it re- 
 quired, or to the rarefied air, as to the tremendous heat 
 
132 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 and glare of the sun on the south-east slope down to 
 Shipki, which involves rather more than a mile of per- 
 pendicular descent. 
 
 A short way before reaching the extreme summit of 
 the pass, we rested for a little on an open brow of the 
 mountain covered with grass and flowers. The view 
 over the Spiti ranges to the north-west was very exten- 
 sive and striking ; for, though it was a land of desola- 
 tion on which we gazed, it was under an intensely 
 dark-blue sky ; it was beautifully coloured with snow 
 and cloud, and variegated rock, and presented vast 
 ranges of picturesquely shaped peaks, between two of 
 which the 1 8,000 feet Manerung Pass could easily be 
 discerned. Westward, over sections of the Sutlej valley, 
 near Rarang and Pangay, the great peaks and snows of 
 the Indian Kailas mingled with the clouds of the Indian 
 monsoon, which were arrested on its southern side. 
 Behind us, and overhanging us, were glaciers and snowy 
 peaks. Then came the summit of the Kung-ma Pass, 
 and to the north-east the vast citadel of Lio Porgyul. 
 Though the view was limited on one side, yet it was 
 much more extensive than any I have seen from any 
 other Himali}'an pass, — even from the Shinkal, which is 
 at least 2000 feet higher. An enormous semicircle was 
 visible of grand precipices, high mountain peaks, and 
 snowy summits over 20,000 feet high. Resting on the 
 grass, looking on that beautiful }'et awful scene— on the 
 boundless wild of serrated ridges, rock-needles, mountain 
 battlements, storm-scathed precipices, silvery domes, 
 icy peaks, and snowy spires — and breathing the pure, 
 keen, exhilarating air,— it almost seemed as if, during 
 my illness at Pvi, I had indeed passed from the tortur- 
 ing life of earth, and had now alighted upon a more 
 glorious world. But the Namgea women dispelled the 
 illusion by bringing me blue Alpine flowers, reminding 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 133 
 
 me that I was still upon the sad star, the loveliness 
 of which is marred by the dark shadow which hangs 
 over all its sentient and conscious beings. "Our life is 
 crowned with darkness ; " and it becomes not those who 
 aspire to be worthy of that crown to seek it prematurely, 
 while those the inclination of whose natures must draw 
 them from the purgatory of earth to a lower and darker 
 world, if there existence is to be continued at all, in- 
 stinctively cling to the happiest life they can hope to 
 know. But even earthly life, under certain conditions, 
 has its intense enjoyments. It was an immense relief 
 for me, after the Sutlej valley and its shadow of death, 
 to feel my feet on the springy turf of rounded slopes — 
 to find that I had room to move and breathe — and to 
 see the lights and shadows chasing each other over the 
 flowery grass. 
 
 Before the last ascent, we passed beneath a consider- 
 able glacier into a small but deep ravine, just above 
 which there was a camping-place for travellers, but no 
 wood and no water visible, though a stream from the 
 glacier might be heard moving underneath the ground. 
 This camping-place marks the boundary between Kuna- 
 war and the Chinese territory ; and from there a gentle 
 ascent, dififiicult only from the great rarity of the air, took 
 us up to the extreme summit of the Kungma Pass, where 
 there are the ruins of a Tartar guard-house, at which 
 formerly travellers attempting to cross the Chinese 
 frontier used to be stopped ; but as a European tra- 
 veller makes his appearance at this gate of entrance 
 only once in ten or fifteen years, it was obviously quite 
 unnecessary to keep a permanent guard up there at the 
 inconvenient height of 16,000 feet — and so the congenial 
 business of stopping his advance has been deputed to 
 the people of the large village of Shipki, which lies im- 
 mediately, but nearly 6000 feet below. Fortunately 
 
134 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 there was hardly any wind ; for at these great heights 
 exposure to a high wind for a few minutes may be fatal, 
 so rapidly does it make the body inanimate. From this 
 guard -house the view towards Tartary was perfectly un- 
 clouded and clear. It presented to our view a great 
 expanse of bare and rounded but smooth-looking hills 
 fading away into the elevated rolling plains beyond. 
 The appearance of Tartary is quite different from that 
 of Kunawar and Spiti, and of the Western Himaliya in 
 general. Except down at Shipki, not a tree was visible, 
 and there were no high peaks or abrupt precipices. No 
 snow was visible in Tartary beyond Li'o Porgyul, though 
 the Shirang mountain, over which the road to Gartop 
 goes, must be about l8,OGO feet high. The furze on 
 these mountain plains was here and there of a dark- 
 brown colour ; and when Alexander Gerard, a native of 
 Aberdeenshire, saw it from a neighbouring pass in i8i8, 
 he v/as at once struck by the resemblance of the furze 
 to Scotch heather. Even " Caledonia stern and wild," 
 however, has no scenes which could afford any notion of 
 the wild sterility of these Tartar plains, or of the tre- 
 mendous mass of Li'o Porgyul which flanked them on 
 the immediate left. There is no descent in Scotland 
 either to compare in utter wearisomeness to that of the 
 6oco feet from the top of the Kung-ma down to the 
 great village of Shipki, though, to do the Chinese justice, 
 they must have expended not a little labour on the rude 
 path which connects the two points. This path was too 
 steep for riding down comfortably on a yak ; and even 
 Chota Khan, despite his bleeding at the nose, declined 
 the offer which I made him of the use of mine. So I 
 had to endure more than the usual amount of bumping, 
 in my dandy, and of being let fall suddenly and violently 
 on the stony ground, owing to the two coolies in front 
 occasionally coming down by ':he run. I did, however, 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 135 
 
 manage to get carried down, there being literally no 
 help for it ; but the dandywallahs came to Mr Pagell 
 next day and pathetically showed that gentleman the 
 state of their shoulders. 
 
 Chota Khan and one or two more of our servants had 
 gone on in advance to Shipki, with some of the coolies, 
 in order to have the little mountain tents ready for us 
 on our arrival ; but that was not to be accomplished so 
 easily as they expected. Instead of tents, a most amus- 
 ing scene presented itself when we at last got down. 
 But, in order to understand it, the reader must bear in 
 mind that Shipki is situated on the very steep slope of a 
 hill above a foaming river, and that it is by no means a 
 place abundant in level ground. In fact, there is no 
 level ground at Shipki except the roofs of the houses, 
 which are usually on a level with the streets, and the 
 narrow terraced fields, the entrances to which are 
 guarded by prickly hedges or stone walls, or cJievmix- 
 de-frise of withered gooseberry branches. You cannot 
 pitch a tent on a slope, covered with big stones, at an 
 angle of about 45°. Neither were the roofs of the houses 
 desirable, because on the roof of every house there was 
 a ferocious Tibetan mastiff,'' roused to the highest pitch 
 of excitement by our arrival, and desiring nothing better 
 than that some stranger should intrude upon his domain. 
 Consequently the terraced fields presented the only 
 available places for our tents, and they were clearly 
 available, many of them being in stubble, while there 
 was no immediate intention of digging up the ground. 
 Of course a terraced field was the place, but here was 
 the difficulty which threw Chota Khan into a state of 
 amazement, perplexity, and wrath. A band of hand- 
 some and very powerful young Tartar women — clad in 
 red or black tunics, loose trousers, and immense cloth 
 "boots, into which a child of five years old might easily 
 
136 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 have been stuffed — had constituted themselves the 
 guardians of these terraced fields, and whenever Chota 
 Khan or any of his companions attempted to enter, they 
 not only placed their bulky persons in the way, but even 
 showed determined fight. Woman to man, I believe 
 these guardian angels could have given our people a 
 sound thrashing ; and I afterwards found it to be a most 
 useful goad for lagging coolies to remark that one Shipki 
 woman could beat two men of Spiti or Lahaul, as the 
 case might be. These angels in big boots were very 
 good-humoured, and seemed to enjoy their little game 
 immensely; but not the less on that account- were they 
 pertinacious, and even ferocious, when any attempt was 
 made to get past them. If catching a Tartar be a diffi- 
 cult operation, I should like to know wdiat catching a 
 Tartar young woman must be. When we arrived, Mr 
 Pagell reasoned with them eloquently in fluent Tibetan, 
 and they allowed the force of his argument to the extent 
 of admitting that there was no spot for us at Shipki on 
 which to pitch our tents except a terraced field ; but 
 they parried the obvious conclusion by reminding him 
 that there was a very nice little piece of camping-ground 
 about half way up the six thousand feet we had just 
 come down, and that it was little past the middle of the 
 day. I myself tried gently to pass between them, with 
 the most admiring smiles and affectionate demeanour I 
 could summon up for the occasion, and in the circum- 
 stances ; but though this seemed to amuse them much, 
 it did not at all induce them to allow me to pass ; and 
 when we tried other fields, either the same women or a 
 fresh band opposed our entrance. Meanwhile, groups 
 of men, on the roofs of houses and elsewhere, watched 
 the operations without interfering. It really looked as 
 if the intention was to compel us to go back from Shipki 
 without allowing us to stay there even for a night. 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 137 
 
 There was much iiif^enuity in this plan of setting the 
 Tartar damsels to prevent our camping. Had we used 
 force towards these young persons, there would have 
 been a fair reason for the men of the place falling upon 
 us in a murderous manner ; and Mr M'Nab, the super- 
 intendent of the hill states, had told m.e that one of his 
 predecessors in office, who tried either to camp at Shipki 
 or to go farther, very nearly lost his life there. Had I 
 been alone, I do not know what might have happened, 
 for, in my weak state, I was beginning to get irritated ; 
 and it was fortunate I was accompanied by Mr Pagell, 
 who took the matter quite easily, and said it would be 
 necessary to respect the wishes of the people of the 
 country. Fortunately, too, at this juncture, he recog- 
 nised a Lama, for whom he had formerly done some 
 medical service, and the Lama not only took our part 
 generally, but also offered us a narrow field of his own 
 on which to pitch our tents. There was a disposition 
 on the part of the young Tartars to resist this also, but 
 they were a little too late in making up their minds to 
 do so ; for whenever the priest showed my friend the 
 wall which was at the end of his field, our servants and 
 coolies, appreciating the exigency of the occasion, made 
 a rush over it and took immediate possession. 
 
 We rem.ained at Shipki that afternoon, the whole of the 
 next day^ and the greater part of the day after, making 
 unavailing attempts to provide for farther progress into 
 Chinese Tibet. • We should have been glad to go very 
 lightly burdened, but none of the coolies or yakmen 
 from Kunawar would accompany us a step farther. 
 They said that their duty to their own State had com- 
 pelled them to take us across the frontier to Shipki, at 
 great inconvenience to themselves, for it was their season 
 of harvest, and many of the men of their villages were 
 away travelling on commercial ventures ; but that there 
 
138 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 was no duty resting on them to take us any farther, and 
 they were afraid to do so, because they well knew that 
 if they persisted in advancing with us, the Tartars would 
 either fail upon them and kill them then, or do so on 
 some future occasion when their business might take 
 them across the frontier. We had no hold upon the 
 Kunawar people for a farther journey ; it would have 
 been most cruel and unjustifiable to have attempted to 
 force them to accompany us, and they would listen to 
 no offers of increased monetary recompense. The Tar- 
 tars, on the other hand, were still more impracticable. 
 They openly derided the idea of our going on into their 
 country, and would not give us any supplies either of 
 carriage or of food. On the whole, they were anything 
 but civil, and at times it looked as if they only wanted 
 a pretext for falling upon us ; but at other times they 
 condescended to reason on the matter. They said that 
 they were under express orders from the Lassa Govern- 
 ment not to allow any Europeans to pass, and that it 
 would be as much as their possessions and their heads 
 were worth to allow us to do so. Death itself would not 
 be the worst which might befall them, as there were 
 certain dreadful modes of death, which I shall presently 
 describe, to which they might be subjected. On my 
 referring to the Treaty of Tientsin, which gives British 
 subjects a right to travel within the dominions of the 
 Celestial Emperor, and mentioning that I had travelled 
 a great deal in China itself, they first said that they had 
 no information of any such treaty having been concluded; 
 and then they ingeniously argued that, though it might 
 allow foreigners to travel in China Proper, yet it did not 
 apply to Tibet, which was no part of China, and only 
 loosely connected with that countr\-. When we pressed 
 them for the reasons of this exclusive policy, they 
 answered that thev were not bound to give reasons, 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 139 
 
 having simply to obey orders ; but that one obvious 
 reason was, that wherever Englishmen had been allowed 
 entrance into a country, they had ended in making a 
 conquest of it. We had landed peaceably on the coast 
 of India, and immediately proceeded to conquer the 
 coast. We then took a little more and a little more, 
 always pretending, in the first instance, to be peaceable 
 travellers and merchants, until we got up to the country 
 of Runjit Singh, and the next thing heard there was 
 that we had taken Runjit Singh's dominions. Now we 
 ■wanted to travel in the country of the Sacred Religion 
 (Lamaism) ; but the Tibetans knew better than that, 
 and that the only safe course for them, if they wished 
 to preserve their country to themselves, was to keep us 
 out of it altogether. On this we remarked, that China 
 had brought trouble on itself by attempting to exclude 
 Europeans, whereas matters had gone smoothly after 
 admitting them, and referred to Japan as an instance of 
 a long-secluded country which had found advantage (I 
 am not sure very much) from admitting Europeans; but 
 they seemed to interpret this as a threat, and replied 
 boisterousl}^, that they might as well be killed fighting 
 us as be killed for letting us pass — there would be some 
 amusement in that ; and if ever war came upon them, 
 they were quite willing to engage in war, because, having 
 the true religion, they were certain to conquer. This 
 argLiment struck the Moravian missionary as especially 
 ridiculous, and in another way it might have done so to 
 an artillery officer, for a couple of mountain-guns could 
 easily destroy Shipki from the Kiing-ma Pass ; but it 
 was not ridiculous in the mouths of these wild Tartar 
 mountaineers, who firmly believe in their extraordinary 
 religion, and whose only experience of warfare has been 
 matchlock-skirmishing on their lofty frontiers with the 
 men of Kunawar, for whom they have the greatest con- 
 tempt. 
 
I40 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 It was curious to find these rude men reasoning thus 
 ingeniously, and it struck me forcibly that though the 
 voice was the voice of the rough Tartar Esau, yet the 
 words were the words of the wily Chinese Jacob. There 
 was something peculiarly Chinese-like also, and far from 
 Tartar, in the way in which they shirked responsibility. 
 Personally they were not at all afraid of being uncivil ; 
 but when it came to the question as to who was who, 
 and on whose responsibility they acted, then they be- 
 came as evasive as possible. Thus, in the matter of 
 supplies, though they at first refused point-blank to let 
 us have any, yet, after a little, they adopted different 
 and still more unpleasant tactics. They said they would 
 let us have a sheep — a small one — for five rupees, which 
 was about double its value. On our agreeing to give 
 five, no sheep appeared ; and on our inquiring after it, a 
 message was sent back that we might have it for six 
 rupees. On six being agreed to, the price was raised 
 to seven, and so on, until it became too apparent that 
 they were only amusing themselves with us. And when- 
 ever we reasoned on this subject with an ugly monster 
 who had been put forward — and had put himself for- 
 ward with a great profession of desire for. our comfort — • 
 as the official corresponding to the milkea or lambadar, 
 who looks after the wants of travellers — he promptly 
 disclaimed all pretensions to having anything to do with 
 such a function, and pointed to another man as the verit- 
 able mukea, to whom we ought to apply. This other 
 man said it was true he was a relative of that func- 
 tionary, and he would be happy to do anything for us if 
 the headmen of the village would authorise it, but the 
 veritable vmkea was up with the sheep on the Kung-ma, 
 and if we found him there on our way back, he would, 
 no doubt, supply all our wants. In this way we were 
 bandied about from pillar to post without getting satis- 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 141 
 
 faction, or finding responsibility acknowledged anywhere. 
 On the matter being pressed, we were told that the 
 headmen of Shipki were deliberating upon our case ; 
 but it was impossible to get any one to acknowledge that 
 he was a headman, or to find out who and where they 
 were. I think they did supply us with some firewood, 
 and they sold a lamb to Phooleyram and Nurdass, 
 that these Kunaits might have it killed as their religion 
 requires, not by having the throat cut, but the head cut 
 or hacked off from above at the neck-joint. That was 
 all they would do, however; and they impounded one of 
 our yaks, on a doubtful charge of trespassing, and only 
 released it on payment of a small sum. 
 
 I was particularly anxious to find some official to deal 
 with ; but though there were Tartar soldiers about, one 
 of whom we came upon by surprise, it was impossible 
 to get any one to acknowledge that he was an official, or 
 to unearth one anywhere. In an unguarded moment 
 some of the villagers told us that they were ordered by 
 the Tzong-pon, or "commander of the fort" {Tzong 
 meaning a fort, and pon 2, general or chief*), not to let 
 us pass ; but no fort was visible, or general either; and 
 when we inquired further about this officer, they affected 
 not to know what we were talking about. But the Tzong- 
 pon at Shipki means the Tzong-pon of D'zabrung, the 
 governor of the district. (This place is the Chaprang of 
 Montgomerie's map : it has a fort, and is said to be about 
 eight marches distant from Shipki.) But no one would 
 undertake to forward a letter to the Tzong-pon, or pro- 
 duce any authority from him for refusing to allow us to 
 proceed farther. 
 
 * So also viak-pon, a general of ti-oops ; dd-pon, the commander of a 
 boat ; isik-pon, an architect ; chir-pon, a superintendent of stables ; and 
 zol-pon, a head cook. 
 
142 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 For all this I was in a manner prepared, because 
 several attempts had previously been made in vain to 
 enter Chinese Tibet by this door. My object in going 
 to Shipki was simply to see for myself how the frontier 
 matter stood, and to have a look at Chinese Tartary and 
 Tartars. I never supposed for a moment that, on a first 
 experience of Himaliyan travel, and without a basis of 
 operations near the frontier, I could penetrate for any 
 distance into Chinese Tibet ; and at the utmost contem- 
 plated only the possibility of making a few days' jour- 
 ney across the frontier, though I should have been quite 
 ready to go on all the three months' journey from 
 Shipki to Lassa had the way been at all open. It struck 
 me there was a chance of getting over the frontier diffi- 
 culty by going back to Kunawar, purchasing yaks there, 
 and then recrossing the Kung-ma and passing Shipki 
 by night ; but the time I could have afforded for this 
 experiment had been consumed during the month of 
 my illness at Pu, and I had the alternative before me of 
 either not making such an attempt, or of relinquishing 
 all hope of reaching Kashmir before it was closed for 
 the season, or even of seeing much of the Himaliya. I had 
 no hesitation in preferring to go on to Kashmir. It was 
 not as if I were going back in doing so. In point of 
 fact, to go to the Valley of Flowers by the route I 
 selected and followed out, was to plunge into a still 
 more interesting stretch of mountain countr}-, and into 
 remote Tibetan provinces, such as Zanskar, situated at 
 what may fairly be called the very " back of beyont," 
 and practically as secluded from the world and as 
 unknown to the public as the dominion of the Grand 
 Lama itself. It was also very doubtful how far it would 
 be possible to advance into Chinese Tibet by having 
 yaks of one's own and passing Shipki by night, because 
 a few miles beyond that village the road crosses the 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 143 
 
 Sutlej, and the only way of passing that river there is 
 over a bridge which is guarded by Tartar troops. The 
 Kunawar men told us of this, and they know the 
 country well ; for the objection to the entrance of 
 Europeans does not apply to themselves, and in summer 
 they are in the habit of trading some way into the 
 interior of Chinese Tibet with blankets, sugar, tobacco, 
 and wool, bringing back rock-salt, shawl-wool, and borax. 
 They also mentioned that a few days' journey beyond 
 the frontier, they were exposed to much danger from 
 mounted robbers, there being hardly any villages or 
 houses until they get to D'zabrung or to Gartop, except 
 a small village within sight of Shipki ; and one of them 
 showed us deep scars upon his head, which had been 
 severely cut by these robbers. In travelling among the 
 Himaliya, one must necessarily keep to the roads, such 
 as they are, and the only way of crossing the deep-cut 
 furious rivers is by the bridges which have been thrown 
 across them ; so that a bridge with a guard of soldiers 
 would in all probability be an impassable obstacle, 
 except to an armed force. But, once past the Sutlej 
 and on the rolling hills of Tartary, it would be possible 
 to wander about freely in many directions. The Shipki 
 people told us that if we persisted in going on without 
 their assistance, they would use force to prevent us, 
 defending this by their favourite argum.ent that they 
 might as well be killed fighting us as be killed letting us 
 pass. Could we have procured even very limited means 
 of conveyance, I for my part should have tested this ; 
 but I was scarcely able at the time to walk at all ; and I 
 have not the least doubt, from their demeanour, that 
 they would have carried out their threat, and would even 
 have been delighted to do so; for it more than once 
 looked as if they only wanted the slightest pretext in 
 order to fall upon us, and were chiefly prevented from 
 
144 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 doing so by their respect for Mr Pagell as a teacher of reli- 
 gion and a dispenser of medicines. We might safely 
 conclude, then, that the soldiers at the bridge would be 
 equally intractable ; and it is difficult to say what one 
 might meet with in the country beyond — how soon one 
 might be robbed of everything, and find one's head 
 adorning the pole of a nomad's tent. The Abbe Des- 
 godins, who lived for some time in the Lassa territory 
 towards the Chinese frontier, asserts that the Tartar of 
 that country takes great pleasure, when he has an enemy, 
 in persuading that enemy that he is quite reconciled to 
 him, in asking him to a generous dinner, and in suddenly 
 firing a bullet into his enemy's stomach, when that de- 
 luded individual is supposed to have reached the moment 
 of repletion. If such be the way in which the inhabi- 
 tants of the country of the Sacred Religion treat their 
 friends, it can easily be imagined that, when they fell in 
 with a stranger, they would not even be at the expense 
 of providing a good dinner for him, unless that were 
 absolutely necessary to -throw him off his guard. No 
 doubt it is only a portion of the population which are in 
 the habit of indulging in such hospitality ; but the diffi- 
 culty would be to distinguish between that portion and 
 the more respectable inhabitants. Two or three years 
 ago the tribute which is annually sent up from Nepal 
 to Lassa was seized and appropriated by Tartars on the 
 way ; and on their being told that it was for the Lassa 
 Government, they replied that they did not care for any 
 government. Possibly such rovers might be afraid to 
 meddle with Europeans, but that could not be relied on; 
 and it would be almost impossible for one or two travel- 
 lers to secure themselves against a night attack. 
 
 Hence, if the explorer gets beyond Shipki, and 
 beyond the bridge over the Sutlej, it does not neces- 
 sarily follow that he will reach D'zabrung or anywhere 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 145 
 
 else ; but I expect the bridge will be his main difficulty ; 
 and I have heard of an amusing story connected with 
 a bridge — of an officer who attempted to enter Chinese 
 Tibet at some other point. He managed to give the 
 guard on the frontier the slip at night, and was happily- 
 pursuing his way next morning, congratulating himself 
 on having entered into the forbidden land, when he was 
 overtaken by a portion of the guard, who politely inti- 
 mated that, since they saw he was determined to go, 
 they would make no more objection to his doing so, 
 only they would accompany him, in order to protect 
 him from robbers. This arrangement worked very well 
 for a few hours, until they came to a deep-sunk river 
 and a rope bridge — one of those bridges in which you 
 are placed in a basket, which is slung from a rope, and 
 so pulled along that rope by another and a double rope, 
 which allows of the basket being worked from either 
 side. Over this river some of the Tartars passed first, 
 in order to show that the conveyance was warranted not 
 to break down; and then our traveller himself got into 
 the basket and was pulled along. So far everything 
 had gone on well ; but, when he had got half- wav across 
 the river, his protectors ceased to pull, sat down, lighted 
 their pipes, and looked at him as they might at an in- 
 teresting object which had been provided for their con- 
 templation. "Pull!" he cried out, "pull!" on which 
 they nodded their heads approvingly, but sat still and 
 
 smoked their pipes. '• D n it, pull, will you .'' piL'll !'' 
 
 he cried out again, becoming weary of the basket ; and 
 then he tried all the equivalents for " pull " in all the 
 Eastern languages he knew ; but the more he cried out, 
 the more the Tartars smoked their silver pipes and 
 nodded their heads, like Chinese porcelain mandarins. 
 They interfered, however, to prevent his pulling himself 
 one way or another ; and, after keeping him suspended 
 
 K 
 
146 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 in the basket till night, and he was almost frozen to 
 death, they made an agreement, through a Tibetan- 
 speaking attendant, that they would pull him back if he 
 would promise to recross the frontier. 
 
 If half the stories be true which Mr Pagell has heard 
 from Lamas of the punishments inflicted in Chinese 
 Tibet, it is no wonder that the people of that country 
 are extremely afraid of disobeying the orders of the 
 Government whenever they are so situated as to be 
 within the reach of Government officers. Crucifying, 
 ripping open the body, pressing and cutting out the 
 eyes, are by no means the worst of these punishments. 
 One mode of putting to death, which is sometimes in- 
 flicted, struck me as about the most frightful instance of 
 diabolical cruelty I had ever heard of, and worse than 
 anything portrayed in the old chamber of horrors at 
 Canton, The criminal is buried in the ground up to the 
 neck, and the ground is trampled on round him suffi- 
 ciently to prevent him moving hand or foot, though not 
 so as to prevent his breathing with tolerable freedom. 
 His mouth is then forced open, and an iron or wooden 
 spike sharpened at both ends, is carefully placed in it so 
 that he cannot close his mouth again. Nor is the tor- 
 ture confined to leaving him to perish in that miserable 
 condition. Ants, beetles, and other insects are collected 
 and driven to take refuge in his mouth, nostrils, ears, 
 and eyes. Can the imagination conceive of anything 
 more dreadful.'' Even the writhing caused by pain, 
 which affords some relief, is here impossible except just 
 at the neck ; and a guard being placed over the victim, 
 he is left to be thus tortured by insects until he expires. 
 The frame of mind which can devise and execute such 
 atrocities is almost inconceivable to the European ; and 
 we must hope that a punishment of this kind is held in 
 .icrrorem over the Tibetans, rather than actually inflicted. 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 147 
 
 But I am afraid it is put in force ; and we know too 
 much of Chinese and Tartar cruelties to think there is 
 any improbability in its being so. It is certain that the 
 Turanian race is remarkably obtuse-nerved and insen- 
 sible to pain, which goes some way to account for the 
 cruelty of its punishments ; but that cannot justify them. 
 In other ways, also, Tartar discipline must be very 
 rigorous. Gerard was told that where there is a re^-ular 
 horse-post — as between Lassa and Gartop — "the bundle 
 is sealed fast to the rider, who is again sealed to his" 
 horse ; and no inconvenience, however great, admits of 
 his dismounting until he reaches the relief-stage, where 
 the seal is examined!" I heard something about men 
 being sealed up this way for a ride of twenty-four 
 hours ; and if that be true, the horses must have as 
 much endurance as the men. 
 
 The question arises why it is that the Lassa authori- 
 ties are so extremely anxious to keep all Europeans out 
 of th^ir country. The Tibetans lay the blame of this 
 on the Chinese Mandarins, and the Mandarins on 
 Lamas and the people of Tibet ; but they appear all to 
 combine in ensuring the result. This is the more re- 
 markable, because the Lama country is not one with 
 which Europeans are in contact, or one which they are 
 pressing on in any way. It is pretty well defendu 
 naturally, owing to the almost impassable deserts and 
 great mountains by which it is surrounded ■; and it has 
 by no means such an amount of fertile land as to make 
 it a desirable object of conquest as a revenue-bearing 
 province. The reason assigned, by letter, in 1870 to the 
 Abbe Desgodins, by the two legates at Lassa — the one 
 representing the Emperor of China, and the other the 
 Grand Lama — for refusing to allow him to enter Tibet, 
 was as follows : — " Les contrees thibetaines sont con- 
 sacrees aux supplications et aux prieres ; la religion 
 
148 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 jaune est fondee sur la justice et la droite raison ; elle 
 est adoptee depuis un grand nombre de siecles ; on ne 
 doit done pas precher dans ces contrees une relii:;ion 
 etrang^re ; nos peuples ne doivent avoir aucun rapport 
 aux hommes des autres royaumes." This, however, 
 is evasive ; and, though they are different in the east of 
 Tibet, the Lamas at Shipki made not the least objec- 
 tion to Mr Pagell preaching as much as he liked ; they 
 argued with him in quite an amicable manner, and 
 afforded us protection. 
 
 Is it possible that the gold — or, to speak more gene- 
 rally, the mineral — deposits in Tibet may have some- 
 thing to do with the extreme anxiety of the Chinese to 
 keep us out of that country ? They must know that, 
 without some attraction of the kind, only a few adven- 
 turous missionaries and travellers would think of going 
 into so sterile a countrj'-, which can yield but little trade, 
 and which is in many parts infested by bands of hardy 
 and marauding horsemen. But the Mandarins have 
 quite enough information to be well aware that if it 
 were known in Europe and America that large gold- 
 fields existed in Tibet, and that the miri sacra fames 
 might there, for a time at least, be fully appeased, no 
 supplications, or prayers either, would suffice to pre- 
 vent a rush into it of occidental rowdies ; and that thus 
 an energetic and boisterous white community might 
 soon be established to the west of the Flowery Land, 
 and would give infinite trouble, both by enforcing the 
 right of passage through China, and by threatening it 
 directly. 
 
 That there is gold in Chinese Tibet does not admit of 
 a doubt ; and, in all probability, it could be procured 
 there in large quantities were the knowledge and appli- 
 ances of California and Australia set to"work in search 
 of it. In the Sutlej valley, it is at the Chinese border 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 149 
 
 that the clay-slates, mica-schists, and gneiss, give way 
 to quartz and exceedingly quartzose granite — the rocks 
 which nriost abound in gold. The rolling hills across 
 the frontier are similar in structure to those which lead 
 to the Californian Sierra Nevada, and are probably 
 composed of granite gravel. In our Himaliya, and in 
 that of the native states tributary to us, there is not 
 much granite or quartz, and gneiss is the predominant 
 rock of the higher peaks and ranges. But granite (and, 
 to a less degree, trap) has been the elevating power. 
 There has been a considerable outburst of granite at 
 Gangotri and Kiddernath, and the consequence is that 
 gold is found, though in small quantities, in the streams 
 beneath. Among this great range of mountains there 
 are various rivers, 
 
 " Whose foam is amber and their gravel gold." 
 
 The district of Gunjarat in the Hindu Kush, north-east 
 of the Chittral Valley, is named on account of its gold. 
 Kafiristan, in the same direction, produces gold, which 
 is made into ornaments and utensils. Badakshan is 
 celebrated for its veins of the precious metal, as well as 
 for its rubies and lapis lazuli. Also at Fauladut, near 
 Bam/an, and in the hills of Istalif north of Kaubul, 
 gold is found. It is washed out of the upper bed of the 
 Indus in certain parts where that bed is accessible, and 
 also from the sands of the Indus immediately after it 
 emerges at Torbela on to the Panjab plain. We have 
 it, too, in the bed of the Cha^/ok river. Gold is also 
 washed out of the bed of the Sutlej, a little below Kot- 
 ghar, where the people can get down to that bed. Now, 
 where does that latter gold come from } We may go a 
 long way up the Sutlej before finding rocks likely to 
 ■produce any of that metal, unless in the minutest 
 quantities ; but advance up that river to the Chinese 
 
I50 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 frontier, and we come upon a stretch of country which is 
 extremely Hkely to be the matrix of vast gold deposits. 
 Great quantities of gold may be washed out of that 
 region by the Sutlej, and yet not much of it find its 
 way below Kotghar, because so heavy a metal soon 
 sinks into the bed of the stream. Nor does this sup- 
 position depend entirely upon my unsupported geo- 
 logical conjecture ; because it is well known to the 
 Kunawar people that gold is found in Tibet, not very 
 far from Shipki. The largest of these gold-fields are at 
 Shok Jalung, the Thok Jalung of Major Montgomerie, 
 which is in lat. 32° 24', and long. 81° 37', at a height de- 
 scribed as about 16,000 feet. But there are many more 
 of them, especially about Damu, near the Sutlej, not 
 far from its source, and at Gartop, close to the Indus. 
 The fact that not only gold-washings but even gold- 
 mines are reported to exist in that part of the country 
 between the two rivers, affords pretty conclusive proof, 
 when taken in connection with the geological aspect of 
 the hills, so far as can be seen from the Kung-ma Pass, 
 that the western part at least of Chinese Tibet has im- 
 portant gold-fields. Of course the people there have 
 no means of working their mines effectually, and the 
 Lama religion does not encourage the search for pre- 
 cious metals ; but it would be very different if the appli- 
 ances of civilisation were brought to bear on the matter. 
 Besides gold, Chinese Tibet possesses silver, mercury, 
 iron, cinnabar, nitre, lapis lazuli, borax, and rock-salt. 
 The quantity of turquoises which it can turn out ap- 
 pears to be almost unlimited, and the women of all the 
 Himaliya richly ornament their hair and dress with 
 these gems — those about the size of a hazel-nut being 
 the most common. It is doubtful, however, whether 
 the metals enumerated above are to be found in the 
 country to any great extent, though there is no reason 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 151 
 
 to suppose that some of them may not be so. A most 
 serious want is that of fuel. It is quite unlikely that 
 there is any coal, and wood is extremely scarce. On 
 the east side there are great forests here and there ; but, 
 on the elevated plains of the west, the Tartars have to 
 depend for their fires almost entirely on furze and the 
 droppings of their flocks. This must create a serious 
 obstacle in the way of working mines, and of a mining 
 population existing at such a height; but if only gold 
 exists up there in great abundance it is an obstacle 
 which might be profitably overcome by the resources of 
 modern science. 
 
 There is no less reason to believe that Eastern Tibet 
 abounds in the precious metals. The Abbe Desgodins 
 writes that " le sable d'or se trouves dans toutes les 
 rivieres et meme dans les petits ruisseaux du Thibet 
 oriental;" and he mentions that in the town of Bathan, 
 or Batan, with which he was personally acquainted, 
 about twenty persons were regularly occupied in secretly 
 washing for gold, contrary to the severe laws of the 
 country. At other places many hundreds engaged in 
 the same occupation. He also mentions five gold-mines 
 and three silver-mines as worked in the Tchong-tien 
 province in the -upper Yang-tse valley ; and in the valley 
 of the Mey-kong river there are seven mines of gold, 
 eight of silver, and several more of other metals. He 
 also mentions a large number of other districts, in each 
 of which there is quite a number of gold and silver- 
 mines, besides mines of mercury, iron, and copper. It 
 is no wonder, then, that a Chinese proverb speaks of 
 Tibet as being at once the most elevated and the richest 
 country in the world, and that the Mandarins are so 
 anxious to keep Europeans out of it. If the richest 
 mineral treasures in the world lie there, as we have so 
 much reason to suppose, there is abundant reason why 
 
152 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 strangers should be kept out of it, and why it should be 
 kept sacred for the Yellow Religion, for supplications 
 and pra3/ers. 
 
 The area of Tibet is partly a matter of conjecture, 
 and the best geographers set it down as between six and 
 seven hundred thousand square miles, with a very con- 
 jectural population of ten millions. With Mongolia on 
 the north ; Turkestan, Kunawar, and the mountainous 
 dependencies of Kashmir on the west; Nepal, Sikkim, 
 and Bhotan, with their Himaliya, on the south ; and the 
 Chinese province of Yunnan on the east, — it is about as 
 well lifted out of and defended from the world as any 
 country could be; and although Lassa is about the same 
 latitude as Cairo and New Orleans, yet the great eleva- 
 tion of the whole country (which may be roughly called 
 a tableland of from 15,000 to 16,000 feet high) gives it 
 almost an arctic climate. The great cluster of moun- 
 tains called the Thibetan Kailas (the height of wdiich 
 remains unascertained, and some of the peaks of which 
 may be even higher than Gaurisankar) well deserves to 
 be called the centre of the world. It is, at least, the 
 greatest centre of elevation, and the point from whence 
 flow the Sutlej, the Indus, and the Brahmaputra; while 
 to Tibet, meaning by that word the whole country in 
 which Tibetan is spoken, we may ascribe most of the 
 rivers of the Panjab, and also the Jumna, the Ganges, 
 the Irrawaddi, the Yang-tse, and even, the Hoang-Ho, 
 or great Yellow River. The pass at Shipki, over which 
 I crossed, is one of the lowest of the passes into Chinese 
 Tibet, There is another and more difficult pass close 
 to it, about 12,500 feet high ; but the others are of great 
 height, and the Mana Pass, between Tibet and Gurwhal, 
 is 18,570 feet. Though Lassa is the capital of the whole 
 country, Teshu Lambu, said to have a population of 
 about 50,000, is the capital of the western division of 
 
CHINESE TARTARS, 153 
 
 Chinese Tibet, and is the residence of the Bogda Lama, 
 the hifrhest spiritual authority after the Grand Lama. 
 
 The young persons of Shipki had none of the shame- 
 facedness of the women of Lidia. They would come 
 and sit down before our tents and laugh at us, or talk 
 with us. It was quite evident that we were a source of 
 great amusement to them. They were certainly^ rather 
 robust than beautiful ; but one girl, who had come from 
 the other side of Lassa, would have been very good- 
 looking had she been well washed. This Tartar beauty 
 had a well-formed head, regular features, and a reddish- 
 brown complexion. She was expensively adorned, and 
 was probably the relative of some official who thought 
 it best to keep in the background. Li fact, she was 
 very handsome indeed, lively and good-humoured ; but 
 there was the slight drawback that her face had never 
 been washed since the day of her birth. Another }-ou ng 
 girl belonging to Shipki tempted some of our Namgea 
 men into a mild flirtation ; but whenever they offered to 
 touch her it was a matter of tooth and nails at once. 
 Mr Pagell's conversation with the people on the subject 
 of religion was well enough received, though his state- 
 ments were not allowed to go uncontroverted, and his 
 medical advice was much preferred. Li talking with us, 
 the men were rather rude in their manner, and, after 
 staying for a little, they would suddenly go away, laugh- 
 ing, and slapping their persons in a way that was far 
 from respectful. 
 
 Both men and women wore long tunics and loose 
 trousers, a reddish colour being predominant, and also 
 large cloth Tartar boots : but during the heat of the day 
 many of both sexes dispensed with the boots, and some 
 of the men appeared with the upper part of their bodies 
 entirely naked. All the men had pigtails, and they 
 wore caps 'like the ordinary Chinese skull-caps, though, 
 
154 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 from dirt and perspiration, the original colour and orna- 
 mentation were not distinguishable. The women had 
 some pigtailSj some plaits, and were richly ornamented 
 with turquoises, opals, pieces of amber, shells (often 
 made into immense bracelets), corals, and gold and 
 silver amulets ; while the men had metal pipes, knives, 
 and ornamented daggers stuck in their girdles. The 
 oblique eye and prominent cheekbones Avere noticeable, 
 though not in very marked development ; and though 
 the noses were thick and muscular, they were sometimes 
 straight or aquiline. The bodies were well developed, 
 large, and strong ; but the men struck me as dispropor- 
 tionally taller than the women. The weather being- 
 warm, hardly any one appeared in sheepskins, and most 
 of their garments were of thick woollen stuff, though the 
 girl from beyond Lassa wore a tunic of the ordinary 
 thick, glazed, black, Chinese-made flaxen cloth. We 
 did not obtain permission to enter any of their houses, 
 which were strongh'- built and roofed of stone, but saw 
 sufficient to indicate that these were dark uncleanly 
 habitations, almost devoid of furniture. 
 
 Shipki is a large village in tlie sub-district of Rong- 
 chung, with a number of terraced fields, apricot-trees, 
 apple-trees, and gooseberry-bushes. It is watered by 
 streams artificially led to it from the glaciers and snow- 
 beds to the south-west of the Kung-ma Pass, where 
 there are great walls of snow and snowy peaks about 
 20,000 feet high. Twenty-four of its zemindars, or pro- 
 prietors of land, pay a tax amounting to £^ yearly to 
 the Government, and the remainder pa\' smaller sum.s. 
 The population numbers about 2000, and they have not 
 exactly the typical Tartar countenance, though with 
 clearly-marked Tartar characteristics, and there were 
 two or three strangers among them whose features were 
 purely Turanian. The people of Shipki have a striking 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 155 
 
 resemblance to the country Chinese of the province of 
 Shantung, and they were large, able-bodied, and rather 
 brutal in their manners, — not a trace of Chinese for- 
 mality or politeness being apparent. The village is 
 separated into several divisions ; the houses are not close 
 together, and the steep paths between them are execra- 
 ble, being little more than stairs of rock with huge steps. 
 The gooseberry-bushes, however, gave a pleasant ap- 
 pearance to the place, and the unripe berries promised 
 to reach a considerable size. Of course the whole dis- 
 trict is almost perfectly rainless, and the air is so dry as 
 to crack the skin of Europeans. It must get very little 
 sun in winter, and be excessively cold at that season; 
 but in summer the climate is mild, and hottish during 
 the day. The thermometer outside my tent was 56° at 
 sunrise; but it was 84° Fahr. at 2 P.M. inside the tent, 
 with a breeze blowing through. The bed of the Sutlej 
 near Shipki is about 9500 feet high, which is a remark- 
 able elevation for so large a river. 
 
 Finding it hopeless to pass Shipki, at all events with- 
 out going back to Kundwar, and purchasing yaks of my 
 own, I determined to proceed to Kashmir, high up 
 along the whole line of the Western Hinialiya ; and, 
 indeed, I did not manage to reach that country a day 
 too soon, for I narrowly escaped being snowed up for 
 the winter in the almost unknown province of Zanskar. 
 Mr Pagell also acknowledged the hopelessness of at- 
 tempting to proceed farther into the dominions of the 
 Grand Lama, so we left Shipki on the afternoon of the 
 lOth August ; and though the thermometer had been at 
 82° in our tents shortly before starting, we camped that 
 night with it at 57° before sunset in a pure bracing 
 atmosphere at the Shipki Rizhing, or Shipki Fields, 
 about 2500 feet higher up on the Kung-ma Pass, but on 
 the eastern side of it, and still 'within the Chinese border. 
 
IS© THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 Here we had a remarkable example of the courage and 
 ferocity of the Tartars. On leaving the outskirts of 
 Shipki, our coolies had plucked and taken away with 
 them some unripe apples ; and at the Shipki Rizhing, 
 where there are no houses, only an empty unroofed hut 
 or two for herdsmen, a solitary Tartar made his appear- 
 ance, and observing the apples, declared that they were 
 his, and, abusing the coolies for taking them, straight- 
 way fell upon the man in possession of them, tore that 
 individual's hair, and knocked him about in the most 
 savage manner. Though there were over twenty of the 
 Kunawar men looking on, and several of them were im- 
 plicated in the theft, if .such it might be called, yet none 
 of them ventured to interfere ; and their companion 
 might have received serious injury, had not Chota Khan 
 who was always ready for a fray of the kind, gone in and 
 separated the two. Now this was between two and 
 three thousand feet above the village, and I doubt if 
 there were any other Tartars about the spot, except one 
 other man who had come to see us off the premises. 
 Ferocity is much admired in Chinese Tibet; and in 
 order to create it, the people are fond of eating what 
 they ironically call " still meat," or meat with maggots 
 in it. We heard also that, to the same end, they give a 
 very curious pap to their infants. Meat, cut into thin 
 slices, is dried in the sun and ground into powder; it is 
 then mixed with fresh blood and put into a cotton cloth 
 and so given to the enfant ten'ible to suck. Mixtures 
 such as this, combined with half-raw flesh, sun-dried 
 flesh, and, where there is cultivation, with girdle-cakes of 
 wheat, buckwheat, and barley, must make a pretty 
 strong diet even for the seniors, and one well fitted to pro- 
 duce endurance and courage. It is to be hoped the milk 
 (of mares and other animals) which the nomad Tartars 
 so largely imbibe, may have some effect in mollifying 
 
CHINESE TARTARS. 157 
 
 the ferocity of their spirits. It is very extraordinary 
 that the Chinese, who are a Tartar people, and must 
 have descended at one time from the " Land of Grass," 
 should so entirely eschew the use of milk in every 
 shape. For long there was a difficulty in getting even a 
 sufficiency of that liquid for the use of the foreigners at 
 the open ports in China ; and I have heard of a sliip 
 captain at Whampoa, on blowing up his comprador for 
 not having brought him any milk, receiving the indig- 
 nant answer — '"^lliat pig hab killo, that dog hab weillo 
 (run away), that Avoman b.ab catchee cheillo — how then 
 can catchee milk?" A Lama at Kaelang, on being 
 spoken to on this subject, admitted that he had ob- 
 served that "even at Lassa the pure Chinese did not take 
 any milk ; and he said the reason they gave for not 
 doing so was, that milk makes people stupid. I fancy 
 there is some truth in that assertion ; -but possibly the 
 Chinese may have got the idea from the fact that the 
 Tartars, who are necessarily milk-drinkers and eaters of 
 dried milk and buttermilk, are a very stupid people. 
 Sir Alexander Burnes mentions a similar opinion as 
 existing in Sind in regard to the effects of fish. There, 
 a fish diet is believed to destroy the mind ; and in pal- 
 liation of ignorance or stupidity in any one, it is often 
 pieaded that "he is but a fish-eater." Yet this diet, 
 more than any other, if our modern savants can be 
 trusted, supplies the brain with phosphorus and thought, 
 so it is calculated to make people the reverse of stupid. 
 The next day we started before daylight, and camped 
 again at Namgea Fields. The view over Tartary, from 
 the summit of the pass, was somewhat obscured by the 
 rising sun, which cast on it a confusing roseate light; 
 but the great outlines of the rolling hills and windy 
 steppes were visible. I should be glad to try Chinese 
 Tibet again, and in a more serious way ; but meanwhile 
 
158 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 I had all the Western Himahya before me, from Lfo 
 Porgyul to the 26,000 peak of Nunga Parbat, besides 
 the Afghan border, and I had satisfied my immediate 
 purpose by seeing some of the primitive Turanians, and 
 looking on their wild, high, mountain home. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 HANGRANG, SPITI, AND TIBETAN POLYANDRY. 
 
 On turning north-westward from Chinese Tibet, I set 
 myself to the task of traversing the whole line of the 
 Western Himaliya, from Li'o Porgyul to Kashmir and 
 the Hindu Kiish, in the interior of its ranges, at a height 
 usually about 12,000 feet, and through the provinces of 
 Hangrang, Spiti, Lahaul, Zanskar, Suru, and Dras. 
 About half of this line of journey is not to be found in 
 Montgomerie's Routes, and it involves more than one 
 passage of several days over high and difficult ground, 
 where there are no villages, no houses, and scarcely even 
 any wood. Nevertheless, it commends itself as a sum- 
 mer and autumn journey to the traveller, from its great 
 elevation, which keeps him above the tremendous heat 
 of the gorges — from its singularly pure and bracing air 
 — from the protection which more than one snowy range 
 affords against the Indian monsoon — from the awful 
 sublimity of the scenery — and from the exceedingly 
 primitive and essentially Turanian and Lamaistic cha- 
 racter of the people among whom he has to sojourn. 
 
 It is possible to hit upon this line of journey without 
 essaying the arduous task of visiting Pu and Shipki, be- 
 cause there is a path from Sungnam to Nako, in Hang- 
 rang, by way of Li'o and Hango, which, though it goes 
 over the Hangrang Pass at an altitude of 14,530 feet, 
 is comparatively easy. But from Namgea Rizhing or 
 Fields, I had to reach Nako by crossing the Sutlej and 
 passing over a shoulder of the great mountain Lfo 
 
i6o THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 Porgyul ; so, on the I2th August, we made the steep 
 ascent to the village of Namgea, and from there to a 
 very unpleasanty/«i/<2 which crosses the foaming torrent 
 of the Sutlej. In this part of the Himali37a, and, indeed, 
 on to Kaslimir, these bridges are constructed of twigs, 
 chiefly from birch-trees'" or bushes, twisted together. 
 Two thick ropes of these twigs, about the size of a man's 
 thigh, or a little larger, are stretched across the river, at 
 a distance of about six to four feet from each other, and 
 a similar rope runs between them, three or four feet 
 lower, being connected with the upper ropes by more 
 slender ropes, also usually of birch twigs twisted to- 
 gether, but sometimes of grass, and occurring at an 
 interval of about five feet from each other. The un- 
 pleasantness of a jhida is that the passenger has no 
 proper hold of the upper ropes, which are too thick and 
 rough to be grasped by the hand ; and that, at the 
 extremities, they are so far apart that it is difficult to 
 have any hold of both ^t the same time ; while the 
 danger is increased by the bend or hang of the jhula, 
 which is much lower in the middle than at its ends. He 
 has also to stoop painfully in order to move along it ; 
 and it is seldom safe for him to rest his feet on the 
 lower rope, except where it is supported from the upper 
 ropes by the transverse ones. To fall into the raging 
 torrent underneath would be almost certain destruction. 
 The high Avind which usually prevails in the Himaliya 
 during the day makes the whole structure swing about 
 frightfully. In the middle of tlie bridge there is a cross- 
 bar of wood (to keep the two upper ropes separate), which 
 has to be stepped over; and it is not customary to repair 
 a jhula until some one falls through it, and so gives 
 practical demonstration that it is in rather a rotten state. 
 One of these bridges — at Kokser on the Chandra river, 
 but now superseded by a wooden bridge — may have 
 
HANGRANG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. i6i 
 
 accelerated the death of Lord Elgin on his way up to 
 Dharamsala. When crossing over it, his coat was caught 
 on the birch twigs ; and his progress being thus arrested, 
 he was unable to go over it with that continuous, but 
 not too rapid motion, which is the safest way of dealing 
 with such a passage. To delay on a bridge of this kind, 
 swinging in the wind, is trying to the strongest nerves ; 
 and I know, on excellent authority, that the position in 
 which he was thus placed had probably some effect in 
 aggravating the heart disease from which this Governor- 
 General died not many daj's afterwards. 
 
 This bridcre below Namgea, which is over lOO feet in 
 length, is a particularly bad one, because there is so 
 little traffic over it that it is almost never repaired ; and 
 Mr Pa^ell told me that the Namgea people were at 
 some loss to know how I was to be got across in m}^ 
 weak and disabled state. A discussion arose amongst 
 them as to whether the jhida would bear the weight of 
 one or two men to assist me over it, on hearing of which 
 I could not help laughing quietly, because, however unfit 
 for prolonged muscular exertion, any short dangerous 
 piece of work was just what I liked. Accordingly, to 
 the wonder and admiration of the mountaineers, who 
 could not distinguish between incapacity for walking up 
 6oco feet and weakness of nerve, I took i\\Qj7nila when- 
 ever I came to it, without stopping to think, of it, or 
 looking either to the right or the left until I found my- 
 self safe on the rocks on the other side. Silas followed 
 my example, and, with his lithe Maratha frame, got 
 over it in splendid style ; but the heavy Chota Khan 
 nearly stuck in the middle, at the cross-bar, and reached 
 ter7'a firnia in a state of great agitation. Among the 
 people who carried our things, there was the comely 
 wife of a zemindar, who came with us for a curious 
 reason. Two of her servants had been, detailed off to. 
 
 L 
 
1 62 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 take part in the carnage of our effects, and it occurred to 
 this buxom dame that it would not do to let her servants 
 go and receive money on their own account ; so she 
 came also, and carried a mere nominal burden, having 
 been over Avith us at Shipki. A sentimental and per- 
 fectly virtuous friendship had sprung up between this 
 lady and my Afghan cook ; and Chota Khan's admira- 
 tion of her reached the culminating point when he saw 
 his fat friend cross and recross the jhula without the 
 least hesitation or trepidation. All our baggage got 
 across safely, which cannot be calculated upon at this 
 particular bridge, and nobody fell through, though such 
 a result did not appear at all unlikely from the rotten 
 state of the birch ropes. I have gone over worse j'/iiUas 
 than this ; but it was my first, and impressed me with a 
 feeling that the fewer we met with on our way the better. 
 Any bridge, however, and even the hair-like bridge of 
 Chinavad itself, with hell flaming beneath, would have 
 been welcome to me at this time, so long as it took me 
 across the Sutlej, and away from its furnace-like valley. 
 I experienced an intense feeling of relief on finding 
 that I had no more Sutlej, but only the long line of 
 the Western Himaliya before me. It may appear very 
 absurd to hate a river, and regard it as a personal 
 enemy and special agent of the powers of evil ; but that 
 was the frame of mind into which I had got as regards 
 this stream. "Go to," I said, "you uneasy, yellowish- 
 white, foaming, thundering river. Go and choke your- 
 self in the sands of the Panjab. You may be called 
 Laiigrhliaik/iabad, and be fed by the mouths of elephants 
 or demons; you may be richly laden with gold-dust,^ 
 and may worm your way into the bowels of the earth, 
 until, in sunless caverns, you pollute the waters of Alph, 
 the sacred river : but }'Ou shall have none of my dust to 
 grind. against the walls of your rock-prison." 
 
HANGRANG, SPIT I, AXD POLYANDRY. 163 
 
 In order to reach^Nako, where Mr Pagell was to part 
 from rne, we had to cross Lio Porgyul at a height of 
 about 14,000 feet, the lower path having become im- 
 passable ; but that could not be done in a day, so we 
 camped at a very charming spot called Gvumur, on the 
 Sutlej side of the great mountain, at the height of about 
 11,500 feet. This was a place corresponding to Namgea ' 
 and Shipki Rizhing, having a few terraced fields, and 
 also a few huts ; but it was more level than these other 
 outlying stations, and had willow-trees with rills of pure 
 water running through meads of soft, thick, green grass. 
 A spot like this has a peculiar charm after daj's of 
 barren rock, and it was all the more pleasant because 
 Li'o Porgyul shaded the sun from off us by 3 P.M., and 
 left a long, cool, pleasant afternoon. Mr Pagell's con- 
 vert, whose father had been hereditary executioner at 
 "KTu n a war^ca me out very great on this occasion. All 
 along he had shown a disposition to talk without 
 measure, and without much regard as to whether any 
 one was listening to him or not. It seemed as if having 
 been denied the privilege of cutting off human heads^ 
 and so stopping human breath, he had a special claim 
 to use his own throat and his own breath to an un- 
 limited extent. Mr Pagell, with his kind and philo- 
 sophical view of human frailty, excused his follower on 
 the ground that it was the man's nature so to act ; and 
 clearly it was so. If the hereditary executioner had 
 somewhat restrained his conversational powers at Shipki, 
 as a place where there was some danger of conversa- 
 tion being cut short by the removal of the conversing 
 head, he fully made up for the deprivation at Gyumur. 
 He talked, without ceasing, to his Moravian brother and 
 to me, to my servants, to the Namgea bigarries^^ to the 
 willow-trees, to the rills, to the huts, and to the stones. 
 It did not in the least matter that no one understood 
 
■ l64 THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 much of what he said, for his dialect of Lower Kuna- 
 war was not rendered more intelhgible to the people 
 about him by the mispronounced Tibetan words which 
 he mixed up with it out of his bronchial tubes. That 
 was a matter of no consequence to the hereditary execu- 
 tioner, who talked without waiting for replies, and did 
 * us excellent service all the while ; but I could not help 
 thinking that a few days more of him m.ight have pro- 
 duced a strong temptation to exercise his own heredi- 
 tary art upon his own person. 
 
 Close to Gyumur there is the monastery of Tasjji- 
 gongj; which affords a very secluded position for Lamas 
 of a retiring and contemplative turn of mind, as all 
 Lamas ought to be. We were indebted to them for 
 yaks, or rather zo-pos, but had hardly any communi- 
 cation with them, and they did not seem disposed to 
 cultivate our acquaintance. They have a beautifully 
 secluded position for a monastery, among the precipices 
 of a mountain which no one dreams of ascending, and 
 away from villages and trade-routes.. This tendency of 
 Budhists to seclude themselves from the world has 
 interfered with Budhism being a great power in the 
 world. Even in China, where the numerous and well- 
 built monasteries, with large gardens and plantations 
 attached, sufficiently prove that Budhism must, at one 
 time, have had a great attraction for the black-haired 
 race, this religion has long ceased to be an important 
 element in the national life. It is forced to give way 
 even before such a religion as Hinduism, and a nega- 
 tive positivism such as Confucianism, whenever mankind 
 reaches a certain stage of complicated social arrange- 
 ments, or, as we call it, civilisation ; but there is a stage 
 before that, though after the period of tribal fighting, 
 when a religion like Budhism naturally flourishes. Now 
 Tibet is still in that position at the present da}', and so 
 
HANGRANG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. 165 
 
 Budhism (in the shape of Lamaism) is still supreme in 
 it, though it has almost entirely disappeared from India, 
 and has so little power in China. 
 
 Starting about four in the morning, as was our wont, 
 we had a very pleasant journey over the mountain to 
 Nako. There were some vestiges of a path. The ascent 
 was so steep, that great part of the way it looked as if 
 the mountains were overhanging us, and some small 
 stone avalanches came down uncomfortably near ; but 
 that was the character only of the first section. On 
 reaching the highest part of the mountain which we 
 attained — a height of nearly 14,000 feet — we found our- 
 •selves on the turn of its ridge, and wound for some way 
 along the top of terrific precipices, which rose up almost 
 perpendicularly to the height of about 5000 feet above 
 the river Lee. It is more interesting, and a great deal 
 more pleasant, being at the top of this gorge than at 
 the bottom of it, where there is no path ; and the 
 largest pieces of rock we could roll over were dissipated 
 into fragments, too small to be seen by us, long before 
 they reached the river. 
 
 At Nako we camped close to the village, on the 
 grassy bank of a small lake. The other side of this 
 lake was lined with large poplar and willow trees, and 
 in so desolate a region the place appeared exceedingly 
 beautiful. Elsewhere it might not have appeared so 
 striking ; but there is nothing like slow difficult travel- 
 ling and tent-life or camping out for enabling one to 
 appreciate the scenery. I particularly felt this to be 
 the case in the upper parts of Kashmir, where not only 
 the scene of each night's encampment, but even every 
 turn of the beautiful wooded valle3''s, was deeply im- 
 pressed upon my memory. Nako is a little over 12,000 
 feet high ; and though I had already slept at higher 
 altitudes on the Kung-ma Pass, the weather had become 
 
l66 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 colder, and I here, for the first time, experienced a sen- 
 sation which the head of the Yarkund expedition had 
 warned me not to be afraid of. It consisted in being 
 suddenly awake_ned at night by an overpowering feeling 
 of suffocation and faintness, which one unaccustomed to 
 it, or not warned about it, might readily mistake for the 
 immediate approach of death. It is a very curious 
 feeling — just as if the spirit were about to flit from the 
 body ; but a io.^ more days of travelling along the line 
 of 12,000 feet enabled me to get rid of it altogether. 
 
 At Nako we stayed two nights, and must have been 
 in much need of a rest, for we enjoyed our stay there 
 immensely in spite of the exceedingly inclement weather. 
 It is in an almost rainless district, but it is occasionally 
 visited by rain or snow, and we happened to hit on the 
 time of one of these storms. Soon after our arrival 
 about mid-day the thermometer sank to 50°, and the 
 next morning was at 47°, and rain fell, or chill raw mists 
 swept over us. Occasionally the clouds would clear 
 away, showing the mountain above us white with new- 
 fallen snow down to within a few hundred feet of our 
 tent ; and this sort of weather continued during the 
 period of our stay at this highly elevated village. At 
 night it was intensely cold ; the wind carried the rain 
 into our frail abodes wherever it could find admission ; 
 and though the canvas of our tents did not admit the 
 wet exactl\% yet it was in a very damp state, which 
 added to the coolness of the interior. Nevertheless we 
 felt quite at home, and our servants also enjoyed them- 
 selves much. They amused themselves with various 
 athletic games ; and, to my astonishment, I found Silas, 
 who had spent all his life within the tropics, swimming 
 across the lake, which was a most dangerous thing to do, 
 owing to the almost icy coldness of the water and the 
 number of tangled weeds which it contained. This, e.nd 
 
HANGRANG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. 167 
 
 our general cheerfulness, said a great deal for the bene- 
 ficial effects of high mountain air, and of a nourishing 
 diet of milk, mutton, game, and wheat or barley flour, 
 so superior to the rice, curries, vegetables, and pulse, 
 with which the people of India delight to stuff them- 
 selves. The piles of duippattics, or girdle-cakes, which 
 my servants baked for themselves, were enormous ; so 
 were their draughts of milk ; and I suppliecH them with a 
 great deal of mutton, which they did not undervalue. 
 The people of all the Tibetan-speaking countries also 
 eat enormously. They always had something before 
 starting, however early the hour might be ; and when- 
 ever we halted for a little on the way, they took out 
 their s2Lttu, or roasted barley flour, and if there happened 
 to be any water accessible, kneaded this flour into large 
 balls about the size of a cricket-ball, and so ate it with 
 great gusto. On halting for the day, which was most 
 usually about three in the afternoon, while the men 
 assisted us in pitching the tents and making other 
 arrangements, the women immediately fell to work in 
 making duippatties and preparing great pots of tea-brotli, 
 into which they put salt, butter, flour, sometimes even 
 meat, and, in fact, almost anything eatable which turned' 
 up. After .they had done with us, the whole of their 
 afternoons and evenings appeared to be spent in eating 
 and supping, varied occasionally by singing or a wild 
 dance. Sometimes they prolonged their feasting late 
 into the night ; and it was a mystery to me where all 
 the flesh they consumed came from, until I observed 
 that the Himaliya are very rich in the carcasses of sheep 
 and goats which have been killed by exposure or by 
 falling rocks. All this eating enables the Tibetans to 
 carry enormous burdens, and to make long marches up 
 and down their terrible mountains. Among the rice- 
 eating Kashmirians I observed that large-bodied, strong 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 enough looking young men were grievously oppressed, 
 and soon knocked up, by burdens which Tibetan women 
 could have carried gaily along far more difficult paths, 
 and which their husbands would have thought nothing 
 of.. But ev'en in Tibet the heaviest burden did not 
 always go to the strongest bearer. A very common way 
 was for my bigarries to engage in a game of chance the 
 night before starting, and so settle the order of selecting 
 packages. Occasionally the strongest men used their 
 strength in order to reserve for themselves the lightest 
 burdens. I noticed also, as an invariable rule, that the 
 worst carriers, those who had the most need of husband- 
 ing their breath, were always the most talkative and 
 querulous, while the best were either silent or indulged 
 only in brief occasional exclamations. 
 
 The houses I had met with hitherto had all slated 
 roofs ; but at Nako, as all through Spiti, and also in 
 Zanskar, thorn bushes were thickly piled on the roofs, 
 and in some cases actually constituted the only roofs 
 there were except beams. This is done to preserve the 
 wood below, and it probably does, from the effects of 
 the sun in so dry a climate ; it must also assist in keep- 
 ing out the cold ; but it gives the houses a peculiar furzy 
 look, and denies the people the great privilege of using 
 the top of the house beneath their own as an addendum 
 to their own abode. I purchased at this village a prett}^ 
 large shaggy white dog, of a breed which is common all 
 over China. We called it Nako, or the Nako- wallah, 
 after the place of its birth ; and never did poor animal 
 show such attachment to its native village. It could 
 only be managed for some days' by a long stick which 
 was fastened to its collar, as it did not do to let it come 
 into close contact with us because of its teeth. In this 
 vile durance, and even after it had got accustomed to 
 us, and could be led by a chain, it was contii'iually sigh- 
 
HANGRANG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. 169 
 
 ing, whining, howling, grovvHng, and looking piteously 
 in the direction in which it supposed its birthplace to 
 be. Even when we were hundreds of miles away from 
 Nako, it no sooner found its chain loose than it immedi- 
 ately turned on its footsteps and made along the path 
 we had just traversed, being appareritly under the im- 
 pression that it was only a day's journey from its be- 
 loved village. It had the utmost dread of running water, 
 and had to be carried or forced across all bridges and' 
 fords. No dog, of whatever size, could stand against it 
 in fight, for our Chinese friend had peculiar tactics of its 
 own, which took its opponents completely by surprise. 
 When it saw another dog, and was unchained, it imme- 
 diately rushed straight at the other dog, butted it over 
 and seized it by the throat or some equally tender place 
 before the enemy could gather itself together. Yet 
 Nako became a most affectionate animal, and was an 
 admirable watch. It never uttered a sound at night 
 when any stranger came near it, but quietly pinned him 
 by the calf of the leg, and held on there in silence until 
 some one it could trust came to the relief. The Nako- 
 wallah was a most curious mixture of simplicity, fero- 
 city, and affectionateness. I left him with a lady at 
 Peshawar, to whose little girls he took at once, in a 
 gentle and playful manner ; but when I said "Good-bye, 
 Nako," he divined at once that I was going to desert 
 him ; he leaped on his chain and howled and wailed. I 
 should not at all wonder if a good many dogs were to 
 be met with in heaven, while as many human beings 
 were made to reappear as pariahs on the plains of 
 India. 
 
 Above Nako there is a small Lama monastery, and 
 all the way up to it— a height of about 600 feet— there 
 are terraced fields in which are grown wheat, barley, a 
 kind of turnip,^. and pulse. Thus the cultivation rises 
 
\'^^ 
 
 I70 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 here to almost 13,000 feet, and the crops are said to be 
 very good indeed. There is some nearly level pasture- 
 ground about the place, and yaks and ponies are bred 
 in it for the trade into Chinese Tibet. The people are 
 all Tibetans, and distinctly Tartar in feature. They are 
 called Dukpas, and seem to be of rather a religious turn. 
 Accordingly, they had recently been favoured by the re- 
 incarnation, in a boy of their village, of the Teshu Lam.a, 
 who resides at Teshu Lambu, the capital of Western 
 Tibet, and who, in the Lama hierarchy, is second only 
 to the Dalai or Grand Lama. 
 
 At Nako I bade farewell to my kind friend Mr Pagell, 
 to whom I had been so much indebted. On all the rest 
 of my journey I was accompanied only by my native 
 servants and by porters of the country, and only twice, 
 shortly after parting with the Moravian, did I meet 
 European travellers. These were two Indian officers 
 who were crossing from Ladak to the Sutlej valley; and 
 another officer, a captain from Gwalior, who had gone 
 into Spiti by the Babah route, and whom I passed a 
 few hours after parting with Mr Pagell. My first day's 
 journey to Chango was easy, over tolerably level ground, 
 which seldom required me to dismount from my zo-po, 
 and on a gentle level, descending about 2000 feet to 
 Chango. Tiiat place has a large extent of cultivated 
 nearly level ground, and it may be called the capital of 
 Hangrang, a province which formerly belonged to China, 
 and of which the other large villages are Nako, Hango, 
 and Li'o. The whole population of this little province 
 numbers only about 3000 souls, and they seem to be 
 terribly hard worked in autumn ; but then during long 
 months of the year they have little to do except to 
 enjoy themselves. In the afternoon two bands of wan- 
 dering Spiti minstrels made their appearance, and per- 
 formed before my tent. The attraction of the larger of 
 
HANG RANG, SPJTI, AND POLYANDRY. 171 
 
 them was a handsome woman (two of whose husbands 
 were among the minstrels — there being more at home), 
 who danced and sang after the manner of Indianvnautch 
 girls, but with more vigour and less impropriety. The 
 senior husband of this lady ingeniously remarked that I 
 could not think of giving him less than a rupee, as he 
 was going to sing my praise over the whole country- 
 side. 
 
 On the next two days I had the first and shortest of 
 those stretches over ground without viUages and houses 
 to which I have already alluded; and my route took me 
 again, for a day's journey and a night's encampment, 
 into the inhospitable region of Chinese Tibet, but into a 
 section of that country where I saw no Tartar young 
 women or human inhabitants of any kind. From 
 Chango a path leads into Spiti across the river Lee, by 
 the fort of Shealkar, over the Lepcha Pass and along 
 the right bank of the Lee ; but that route is said to be 
 extremely difficult, and I selected a path (which surely 
 cannot possibly be much better) that takes northward 
 up the left side of the Lee, but at some distance from it, 
 into the Chinese province of Chumurti, and, after a day's 
 journey there, crosses the boundary of Spiti, and con- 
 tinues, still on the same bank of the river, on to Dankar, 
 the capital of Spiti. 
 
 A long steep ascent fro mi Chango took me again on 
 to the priceless 12,000 and 15,000 feet level. The early 
 morning was most delicious, being clear and bright, 
 without wind, and exhilarating in the highest degree, 
 while nothing could be more striking than the lighting 
 up by the sun of the snowy peaks around. One starts 
 on these early mountain journeys in great spirits, after 
 drinking about a quart of fresh milk ; but after three 
 or four hours, when the rays of the sun have begun to 
 make themselves felt, and there has been a certain 
 
172 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 amount of going down into perpendicular gorges and 
 climbing painfully up the other side of them, our spirits 
 begin to flag, and unless there has been a long rest and 
 a good breakfast in the middle of the day, feelings of 
 exasperation are in the ascendant before the camping- 
 ground is reached. Early on this day's journey, I met 
 the finest Tibetan mastiff which I saw in all the Hima- 
 liya. It was a sheep-dog, of a dark colour, and much 
 longer and larger than any of the ferocious guardians of 
 Shipki. While we were talking to the shepherd who 
 owned it, this magnificent creature sat watching us, 
 g'rowling and showing his teeth, evidently ready to fly 
 at our throats at a moment's notice; but whenever I 
 spoke of purchase, it at once put a mile of hill between 
 us, and no calls of its master would induce it to come 
 back. It seemed at once to understand that it was 
 being bargained for, and so took steps to preserve its 
 own liberty ; but it need not have been so alarmed, for 
 the shepherd refused to part with it on any terms. 
 
 After passing the Chaddaldok Po by a narrow slated 
 wooden bridge, we reached the top of the left bank of 
 the To-tzo or Para river, which divides Hangrang from 
 Chinese Tibet. The descent to the stream is about 
 1500 feet, and a short way down there are some hot 
 springs, with grass and willow-trees round them, and 
 the shelter of great rocks. This would be by far the 
 best place for camping; but, for some reason or other, 
 the Chango people had determined that we should do 
 so on the Chinese side of the river. On getting down 
 there, with some difficulty, and crossing the saiigpa, I 
 found there was no protection whatever from the sun's 
 rays, which beat into the valley fiercely, and were re- 
 flected, in an overpowering manner, from the white 
 stones and rocks around, while the noise of the furious 
 river was quite deafening. Here I had to remain with- 
 
HANGRANG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. 173 
 
 out shelter and without food for nearly three hours, 
 getting more and more exasperated as time passed on. 
 After this, I usually kept two coolies within reach of 
 me, with sufficient supplies to meet any emergency, and 
 clothing sufficient to enable me to camp out if necessar\-; 
 but I had now to learn the wisdom of such an arrange- 
 ment. My servants had not got on well with the Chan- 
 go people, and the latter had left us only a little wax- 
 before we reached this river, under pretence of taking a 
 short cut. I could not feel that the former were pro- 
 perly in my hands until I got past Dankar, for tliey 
 might invent some scheme for forcing me to go down 
 from that place to the Sutlej valley, through the Babah 
 Pass. As to the Chango bigarries, I could not say what 
 their motive might be for delay ; but it was clear to me, 
 now that I was alone, that it would be necessary to 
 check this sort of thing at the outset, and I felt a certain 
 advantage for doing so in being upon Chinese ground. 
 So, when the parties did come in at last, I made my 
 wrath appear to be even greater than it was ; and, see- 
 ing that one of them was a sJnkar, and had a matchlock 
 gun and a hunting-knife with him, I thought there could 
 be nothing cowardly in making an example of him, so I 
 fell upon him, and frightened one or two more. This 
 was what the French call a necessary act, and it by no 
 means interfered with the friendly terms on which I 
 always stood with my coolies ; but I need scarcely say 
 that such things should not be encouraged, and that 
 everything depends upon why and how they are done. 
 No formal rules can touch this subject effectually. 
 Some men will travel through a country without being 
 guilty of an act of violence, or even of uttering an angry 
 word, and yet they leave behind a feeling of bitter hatred, 
 not only towards themselves, but also towards the race 
 and Government to which they belong. Other men pro- 
 
174 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 duce similar results by unnecessary, stupid, and cowardly 
 acts of violence. It is curious that sometimes a Briton, 
 who is so wildly benevolent in theory towards weak and 
 uncivilised races, no sooner finds himself among- them 
 than he tramples on their toes unmercifuU}^, and is 
 ready to treat them in a ruthless manner. Therefore I 
 must guard against the supposition that I go in for vio- 
 lent treatment in any part of the world, though just as 
 little do I hold that it should be entirely avoided in all 
 circumstances. It is the touch of nature that makes the 
 whole world kin which is the best recommendation of 
 the traveller. An English officer, a great shikar, writ- 
 ing to me from the wilds to the north of Kashmir, men- 
 tions that the people of one village (who had been in 
 Kashmir, and had noticed the ways of English officers 
 there) begged him, in the name of God, not to make a 
 map of the country ; and on his asking them the reason 
 why, their reply was, " We do not mind you coming 
 here, because you talk to us and let us sit down by you ; 
 
 but other officers will say to us, ' D n you, go 
 
 away.'" This often arises simply from fatigue; but 
 for a traveller to neglect to make friends of the people 
 among whom he sojourns, causes far more dislike to 
 him than an}' positive acts of violence he is likely to 
 commit ; and such is specially the case in high moun- 
 tainous countries, where the population is scanty and 
 travellers rare, and the people — however poor some of 
 them may be, and however dirty all are — have much 
 natural though not formal politeness, and are free from 
 the rude presumption which has become one of the dis- 
 tinguishing characteristics- of the lower classes of this 
 country of late years. Englishmen are far from being 
 the most unconciliatory of travellers, and they would 
 be better liked in India if the Indians had more 
 experience of the harshness of the ordinary German, 
 
HANGRAAG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. 175 
 
 and the ignorant insolence of the ordinary French 
 traveller. 
 
 At this point I finally left the 'dominions of the 
 Rajah of Bussahir, which include upper and lower Ku- 
 nawar and the Tartar province of Hangrang-. Every-/ 
 where there, except to a slight extent at Chango, the 
 people had been exceedingly civil and pleasant, and 
 had readily furnished me with all the carriage I re- 
 quired, though they must often have done so at great 
 inconvenience to themselves, owing to the harvest 
 operations which were going on. In lower Kunawar 
 they seemed to be a gentle and rather timid people, 
 speaking an Aryan language ; and thougli the Tartars 
 of the upper portion of Bussahir were of rougher and 
 stronger character, yet they were quiet and 'friendly 
 enough. As to the roads of these provinces, they are 
 exactly in the same state as when Gerard traversed 
 them, and I prefer to quote here his account of them 
 rather than to give any more descriptions of my own. 
 "The roads in general," he says, "consist of narrow 
 footpaths skirting precipices, with often here and there 
 rocks, that would seem to come down with a puff of 
 wind, projecting over the head ; to avoid which it is 
 necessary sometimes to bend yourself double. The way 
 often leads over smooth stones steeply inclined to a 
 frightful abyss, with small niches cut or worn, barely 
 sufficient to admit the point of the foot ; or it lies upon 
 heaps of gigantic angular fragments of granite or gneiss, 
 almost piercing the shoes, and piled upon one another 
 in the most horrid disorder. Where the rocks are con- 
 stantly hurled from above there is not the slightest trace 
 of a path, and cairns of stones are erected within sight of 
 each other, to guide the traveller. There are often deep 
 chasms between the rocks, and it requires a considerable 
 degree of agility to clear them, and no small degree of 
 
176 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 caution to avoid overturning the stones, which now and 
 then shake under you. . . . The most difficult part I 
 saw was where ropes were used to raise and lower the 
 baggage ; and this did not arise from the path havin;j 
 given way. Now and then flights of stone steps occui, 
 notclied trees and spars from rock to rock, rude scaffold- 
 ing along the perpendicular face of a mountain, formed 
 of horizontal stakes driven into the crevices, with boards 
 above, and the outer ends resting on trees or slanting 
 posts projecting from the clefts of the rock below. The 
 most extraordinary one of this kind I ever saw was in 
 the valley of Teedong. It is called Rapua, and the 
 scaffolding continued for 150 feet. It was constructed 
 like the other, with this difference, that six posts were 
 driven horizontally into the cracks of the rocks, and 
 secured by a great many wedges; there was no support 
 on the outer side, and the river, which undermined it, 
 rushed with incredible fury and a clamorous uproar 
 beneath. The shaking of the scaffolding, together with 
 the stupefying noise of the torrent, combined to give the 
 traveller an uncertain idea of his safety." * To this it 
 may be added, that though several bridges — sangpas 
 such as the one beneath Pu, which I have already de- 
 scribed — have been built of late in Kunawar, almost 
 every path of that province is crossed by unbridged 
 mountain torrents, which are by no means easy to pass 
 in- summer during the day, when they are swollen by 
 the melting snows and glaciers above. Bungalows for 
 Europeans are to be found only on the Hindusthan 
 and Tibet road ; and as the people, being affected by 
 Hindu caste notions, will not allow a European to oc- 
 cupy their houses, a tent is necessary for making much 
 
 * "Account of Koonawur," &c., &c., by the late Capt. Alexander Gerard. 
 Edited by Geoige Lloyd London, 1841. 
 
HANGRANG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. 177 
 
 acquaintance with this most mountainous and formid- 
 able country. 
 
 Camped as we were on the Chinese side of the To-tzo 
 river, we might have had a marauding visit from some 
 of the nomad Tartars, dwellers in tents, who are the 
 chief inhabitants of the province of Chumurti ; but, I 
 fancy, the Lassa Government would be as opposed to 
 any unnecessary interference ^\•ith Englishmen as it is 
 to admitting them into Chinese Tibet, because such- in- 
 terference might be made a handle of by the Indian 
 Government. There is another door here at To-tzo into 
 the dominions of the Grand Lama; but Mr Pagell hadf? 
 told me that he had already tried it, and that on reach-]' 
 ing the first village, he was sent back immediately, with-,-/ 
 out any ceremony, and was scarcely allowed time to( ' 
 feed his yak or pony. It would, no doubt, be as diffi- 
 cult to communicate with the Tzong-pon of Chumurti 
 as with the Tzong-pon of D'zabrung, and the Chango 
 people would only go along the path to Spiti. Since 
 penning m\^ former remarks on the exclusiveness of 
 the Tibetans, I have noticed that Turner* makes men- 
 tion of a very probable origin of it. He ascribes it not 
 to any dislike to Europeans, but to "that spirit of con- 
 quest which forms the common character of all Moham- 
 medan states, and that hostility which their religion 
 enjoins against all who are not its professors," He, in- 
 deed, refers more particularly to this cause as having led 
 the people of Bhotan to close the southern entrances to 
 their mountainous country ; but it is extremely likely 
 that it may have been more generally operative, and 
 induced the Tibetans to seclude the whole dominions of 
 the Grand Lama, while their dread of Europeans and 
 
 * " An Account of an Embassy to the Court of the Teshoo Lama, in 
 Tibet." By Captain Samuel Turner. London, 1806. 
 
178 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 of the gold-mines being coveted, might still have acted 
 afterwards to the same end. In the close of last cen- 
 tury there seems to have been no unwillingness on the 
 part of the Lamia Government to enter into relationships 
 with British India; for first Mr George Bogle in 1774, 
 and then Captain Turner in 1783, were allowed to visit 
 Teshu Lambu as representatives of our Government. 
 A paragraph appeared in the Times, a few days ago, 
 intimating that Mr Bogle's MS. journal of his mission 
 to Lassa had been discovered lately in the British 
 Museum, and is to be published by the Indian Govern- 
 ment, along -vNj'ith an account of the trade-routes into 
 Tibet. There must surely, however, be some mistake 
 here ; because, though Turner gives some account of his 
 predecessor's mission, he makes no mention whatever of 
 Bogle having gone to Lassa, but only to Teshu Lambu 
 and the Bogda Lama. Turner's own journal gives a 
 very full account of that route and of that part of 
 the country ; but Mr Bogle's journal will be welcome. 
 Though it contains no geographical information, yet I 
 am informed it gives long reports of the envoy's conver- 
 sations with the Tibetan authorities ; and it is gratifying 
 to find that the Indian Government is again turning its 
 thoughts to Chinese Tibet after the long time which has 
 elapsed since 1783. A formal mission might be sent 
 to Lassa ; or, under the treaty of Tien-tsin, passports 
 might be claimed from the Chinese Foreign Office, 
 allowing Englishmen, in a private or in a semi-official 
 capacity, to traverse Chinese Tibet, the passports being 
 either in the language of the country or accompanied 
 by Tibetan translations given under imperial authority. 
 As it is, the do-nothing policy of the Indian Govern- 
 ment recoils injuriously upon its prestige with its own 
 ^subjects. It hurts our position in India for the people 
 .there to know that there is a country adjoining our own 
 
HANG RANG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. 179 
 
 territory into which Enghshmen .are s\'stematically re- 
 fused entrance, while the nations of British India and of 
 its tributary states are allowed to enter freely, and even 
 to settle in large numbers at the capital, Lassa,* as the 
 Kashmiris do. About a year and a half ago the Cal- 
 cutta Chamber of Commerce addressed the Viceroy 
 and the Secretary of State for India, complaining of the 
 restrictions there were in the way of commerce with 
 Tibet, and received answers which seemed to imply that 
 their prax-er would be taken into favourable considera- 
 tion whenever circumstances would allow. More re- 
 cently the Friend of India well remarked that " the 
 day has now come when we may justly ask the Chinese 
 Emperor to take steps for our admittance into Tibet." 
 Certainly the matter might well be brought to a crisis 
 now ; and there would not have been the least difficulty 
 about it if a more active use had been made, within the 
 last few years, of our position in China. 
 
 The path to Lari, the first village in Spiti, where we 
 camped under a solitary apricot-tree, said to be the only 
 tree of the kind in the whole province, was very fatiguing, 
 because large portions of it could not be ridden over ; 
 and there were some ticklish faces of smooth, sloping 
 rock to be crossed, which a yak could hardly have got 
 over, but which were managed, when riderless, in a won- 
 derful manner by the shoeless gJu'mt, or mountain pony, 
 which I had got at Chango. The scenery was wild and 
 desolate rather than striking — no house, no tree, and 
 hardly even a bush being visible. There was a great 
 deal of limestone-rock on this journey ; and at some 
 places it was of such a character that it might be called 
 
 * In Western Tibet the name of this city is pronounced without an 
 aspirate ; but in the centre and east of the country it is called " Lhassa," 
 which, consequently, is the correct way. 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 marble. We passed several open caverns ; and in one 
 of these, about a third of the way from the To-tzo river, 
 I stopped for breakfast. It was a magnificent open 
 arch, about fifty feet high in front, and as many in 
 breadth, in the face of a precipice, and afi"orded cool 
 shade until after mid-day, when the declining sun began 
 to beat into it. But the Karitha river, which occurs 
 immediately after, ought to be passed in the morning, 
 because there is only a two-poled bridge over it, on 
 which even a ghi'int cannot cross ; and the stream was so 
 swollen at mid-day by the melting snow that my pony 
 was nearly lost. 
 
 The next morning I was delayed at Lari by the infor- 
 mation that messengers had arrived at the other side of 
 the river with a letter for me and some money, but were 
 unable to cross the river, ■d.jJiuIa, which formerly existed 
 there, having given way. This seemed exceedingly im- 
 probable, but I went down to inquire. There was a 
 double rope across the stream, and I told the messengers 
 to fasten the letter to it, and so send that across, but to 
 keep the money ; and I found that both were for the 
 Gwalior captain whom I met near Nako, so I ordered 
 the bearers to proceed to Pu in search of him. Where 
 there is no bridge exactly, there is often a double rope 
 of this kind across the deep-sunk rivers of the Himaliya, 
 to enable the villagers on opposite sides of the gorge to 
 communicate with each other ; and the rope is some- 
 times strong enough to allow of a man being slung to it, 
 and so worked across. If only the rope be sound, which 
 cannot always be depended on, this method of progres- 
 sion is preferable to iYiQ J/mla, because, though it may 
 try the nerves, it does not at the same time call for pain- 
 ful exertion which disturbs the heart's action. 
 
 Po, or Poi, my next camping-place, was a very plea- 
 sant village, with little streams running between willow- 
 
HANGRANG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. i8i 
 
 trees, and with peaks and walls of snow rising over the 
 precipices, and immense steep slopes of shingle imme- 
 diately around. Another day took me to Dankar, under 
 immense dark precipices, which lined both banks of the 
 river, of slate and shale. It would be well for a prac- 
 tical geologist to examine that part of the Spiti valley, 
 and also the portion between Po and Lari, for it is pos- 
 sible they may contain coal. For the most part, the 
 way to Dankar was tolerably level and good ; but the 
 height of the water of the Lee at this season compelled 
 us to make a difficult detour through probably the most 
 extraordinary series of gorges there is in the world. 
 We moved along a dry watercourse, between perpen- 
 dicular tertiary or alluvial strata, rising to hundreds and 
 even to thousands of feet above. The floor of these 
 clefts was fifteen or twenty feet broad, and though they 
 must have enlarged considerably at the top, they ap- 
 peared to do so very little to the eye. It was not rock, 
 but soft deposits which rose on both sides of us ; and 
 though there had been every irregularity in the lateral 
 effects of the water, which had cut out the passages in 
 many directions, there had been very little in its perpen- 
 dicular action, for, in that respect, the water had cut 
 almost straight down. High up, at the edges of these 
 extraordinary ravines, the strata had been worn away so 
 as to form towers, spires, turrets, and all sorts of fan- 
 tastic shapes, which could be seen by looking up the 
 cross passages and at the turnings. Often high above, 
 and apparently ready to fall at any moment, a huge rock 
 was supported on a long tower or spire of earth and 
 gravel, which (being a little harder than the strata 
 around, or having possibly been compressed by the 
 weight of the rock) had remained standing, while the 
 earth round it had crumbled or been washed away. 
 These threatening phenomena were either on the edge 
 
1 82 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 of the clefts or rose up from their sides, and were very 
 similar to the rocks which are to be seen on glaciers 
 supported on pillars of ice. The way was most tortuous, 
 and led into a cul-de-sac, the end pf which we had to 
 ascend with difficulty. As the route I speak of involves 
 a considerable detour and some climbing, no traveller 
 will be taken through it if the path along the side of the 
 Lee be not covered with water; and I cannot conscien- 
 tiously recommend every one to go into the labyrinth. 
 True, it is used by the mountaineers when the other path 
 is not passable ; but they are very rarely obliged to have 
 recourse to it, because they can time their journey so as 
 to make the passage of the river when the snows above 
 are frozen up, and consequently the water is low. True, 
 also, no rocks fell during our passage, but the floor was 
 paved with them ; there were hundreds of rocks which a 
 mere touch would have sent down, and I saw evidence 
 enough to prove that whole sides of the ravines some- 
 times give way; so that, unless the traveller had a 
 charmed life, his curiosity would expose him to a very 
 fair chance of being suddenly knocked on the head by a 
 stone a ton weight, or buried under hundreds of feet of 
 tertiary strata. 
 
 It is similar strata which afford so extraordinary a 
 position and appearance to Dankar, the capital of 
 Spiti, which is a British Himaliyan province, under an 
 Assistant Commissioner, who resides in the warmer and 
 more fruitful Kulu valley. This town is perched about 
 a thousand feet above the Lee, on the ledges and towers 
 of an immense ridge of soft strata, which descends 
 towards the river, but breaks off with a sudden fall after 
 affording ground for the fort, houses, and Lama temples 
 of Dankar. Its appearance is s6 extraordinar}^ that I 
 shall not attempt any description of it until able to 
 present my readers wath a copy of its photograph. It 
 
HANGRANG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. 183 
 
 has only its picturesqueness, however, to recommend it, 
 for the interior is as miserable as that of the smallest 
 Himdliyan village; and the people, heing under British 
 rule,, have of course a proper contempt for British 
 travellers, though so little troubled by them. No one 
 ofi'ered to show us where to pitch our tents, or to render 
 any other civility. The niukea was away, and his re- 
 presentative was both insolent and exorbitant in his 
 demands. Here was the style which he adopted, and 
 was supported in by the people about him. As was 
 afterwards proved by my making him . produce his 
 nerrick, or official list of prices, he began by demanding 
 double price from us for the sheep and grain we 
 wanted ; and when we said quite civilly that he was 
 charging too much, he at once answered' impudentl}-, 
 and without the least excuse for doing so, "Oh ! if you 
 want to use force, by all means take what you want for 
 nothing, and. I shall report the matter to the Com- 
 missioner in Kulii." Fortunately for him there was no 
 Chinese territory near ; but, through the medium of the 
 young schoolmaster of Dankar, who understood Hin- 
 diisthani, I made him and his friends somewhat ashamed 
 of his conduct ; and it was the more inexcusable be- 
 cause the prices of the nerrick are fixed at a higher 
 rate than those which prevail, in order that there may 
 be no hardship in affording travellers the right of pur- 
 chasing supplies — a right which it is absolutely necessary 
 that they should have, in order to travel at all in a district 
 of country where tliere are so few open markets. 
 
 I have referred more than once in these chapters 
 to the polyandry of the people among whom I so- 
 journed ; and though this delicate subject has been 
 alluded to in several publications, it is sufficiently novel 
 to the general reader to call for a little explanation 
 here. Indeed, I find there are many well-educated 
 
184 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 persons who do not even know what polyandry means. 
 It has a very botanical kind of sound ; and its German 
 equivalent Vielin'dnnerci^ though coarse and expressive, 
 does not throw much light upon the subject. A mis- 
 take also has been made in contrasting poh'andry with 
 poh'^gamy ; whereas, being the marriage of one woman 
 with two or more men, it is itself a form of polygamy, 
 and ought properly tc be contrasted with poh'gany, or 
 the marriage of one man to two or more women. But 
 the polyandry of Central Asia must further be limited 
 to the marriage of one woman to two or more brothers, 
 for no other form is found there, so far as I could 
 learn. 
 
 This curious and revolting custom exists all over the 
 countr}^ of the Tibetan-speaking people ; that is to say, 
 from China to the dependencies of Kashmir and Afghan- 
 istan, with the exception of Sikkim, and some other 
 of the provinces on the Indian side of the Himaliya, 
 where, though the Tibetan language may in part prevail^ 
 yet the people are either Aryan in race, or have been 
 much influenced by Aryan ideas. I found polyandry to 
 exist commonly from Taranda, in the Sutlej valley, a 
 few marches from Simla, up to Chinese Tibet, and from 
 there to Siiru, where it disappeared in the polygamy of 
 the Mohammedan Kashmiris. But it is well known to 
 exist, and to be an almost universal custom, all through 
 Chinese Tibet, Little Tibet, and nearly all the Tibetan- 
 speaking provinces. It is not confined to that region, 
 however, and is probably the common marriage custom 
 of at least thirty millions of respectable people. It is 
 quite unnecessary to go deeply into the origin and 
 working of this very peculiar marital arrangement ; but 
 it is well worthy of notice, as showing how purely 
 artificial a character such arrangements may assume, 
 and what desperate means are had recourse to in order 
 
HANGRANG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. 185 
 
 to get rid of the pressure caused by the acknowledged 
 law of population. 
 
 In the most elaborate and valuable compilation there 
 is on Lamaism — " Die Lamaische Hierarchic und 
 Kirche," by Carl Friedrich Koeppen — that author, in 
 his brief reference to this subject, clears the religion of 
 Tibet of any responsibility for polyandry, and asserts 
 that it existed in the country before the introduction of 
 Budhism, having arisen from the pressure of popula- 
 tion.^ In Ceylon, which is a great Budhist country, 
 polyandry also exists, and, at least till very lately, has 
 been legally acknowledged by the British Government ; 
 but I have not found anything which proves that the 
 religion of the Singalese is any more responsible for 
 the custom than is the British Government itself. We 
 know also that polyandry has existed in non-Budhistic 
 countries, and even in Great Britain, along with worse 
 marriage customs, as Caesar testifies in his " De Bello 
 Gallico " (lib. v. xiv.), when he sa}'s, " Uxores habent 
 deni duodenique inter se communes, et maxime, fratres 
 Glim fratribus, et parentes cum liberis." Traces are to be 
 found of it among the ancient Indo- Aryans, as in the 
 Mahabarat, where Dranpadi is r'^presented as married to 
 the five sons of Pandu ; and in the Ramayana, where the 
 giant Viradha attacks the two divine brothers Rama and 
 Lakshaman, and their wife Sita, saying, " Why do you 
 two devotees remain with one woman .-^ Why do you, 
 O profligate wretches ! thus corrupting the devout 
 sages .'' " Even so early as in the Rig- Veda Sanhita 
 
 * " Die Schuld dieser widi-igen und unnaliiiiicheii Einrichtung 
 tragt iibrigens keinesweges der Lamaismiis ; der Gebrauch bestand 
 vielmehr bei den Bodpa langst vor ihrer Bekanntscliaft mit der Religion 
 des Slialcjasohnes und findet seine Erklarung und Entschuldigung in der 
 iibergrossen Armutli des Sclnieelandes und in der aus dieser entspringenden 
 Nothwendigkeit, dem Anvvachsen der Bevolkerung Schranken zu setzen." 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 (Mandala I. Hymn 117, v. 5) there is some trace of 
 the custom in the passage, " Aswins, your admirable 
 (horses), bore the car which you had harnessed (first) to 
 the goal, for the sake of honour ; and the damsel who 
 M^as the prize came through affection to you and 
 acknowledged your husbandship, sa3'ing 'you are (m}') 
 lords.' " I think polyandry of a kind is even sanctioned 
 in the laws of Menu. 
 
 There are many other traces of the existence of poly- 
 andr}'- in the ancient world, and it also appears in various 
 countries in our own or in very recent times. As to the 
 Singalese, Sir Emerson Tennent says that " polyandry 
 prevails throughout the interior of Ceylon, chiefly 
 amongst the wealthier classes. . . . As a general rule, 
 the husbands are members of the same family, and 
 most frequently brothers." Here there is a shght dif- 
 ference from the polyandry where the husbands are 
 always brothers. The Abbe Desgodins speaks oi proches 
 parents^ or near relatives in general, being, joined in 
 this relationship, as well as brothers, in the east of the 
 country ; but I repeatedly inquired into that point, and 
 on consulting Herr Jaeschke at Herrnhut in regard to 
 it, he said he had nevct known or heard of any other 
 kind of pol3^andry in Tibet except fraternal. Polyandry 
 notably exists among the Todas of Southern India, and 
 it has been found in regions very far distant from each 
 other, as among the Kalmucks, the Tasmanians, and 
 the Iroquois of North America ; but nowhere does it take 
 such a singular form as among the Nairs of the Malabar 
 coast, who are nominally married* to girls of their own 
 caste, but never have any intercourse with their wives ; 
 while these latter may have as many lovers as they 
 please, if the lovers are Brahmins, or Nairs other than 
 the husband. 
 
 Such arrangements, however, are mere freaks, and are 
 
HANG RANG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. 187 
 
 not to be compared with the regular, extensive, and 
 solidified system of Tibetan polyandry. General Cun- 
 ningham, in his valuable work on Ladak, says that the 
 system " prevails, of course, only among the poorer 
 classes ; " but my experience was that it prevailed among 
 all classes, and was superseded by polygany only where 
 the people were a good deal in contact with either 
 Hindus or Mohammedans. Turner, who had so much 
 opportunity of seeing Western Tibet, is quite clear on 
 this point as regards that part of the country, for he says 
 (p. 349) — " The number of husbands is not, as far as I 
 could learn, defined or restricted within any limits. It 
 sometimes happens that in a small family there is but 
 one male ; and the number may seldom perhaps exceed 
 that which a native of rank, during my residence at 
 Teshoo Loomboo, pointed out to me in a family resident 
 in the neighbourhood, in which five brothers were then 
 living together very happily with one female, under the 
 same connubial compact. Nor is this sort of compact 
 confined to the lower ranks of people alone ; it is found 
 also frequently in the most opulent families." 
 
 I met only one case in which the number of husbands 
 exceeded that of the instance mentioned above. It was 
 that of the family of the niiikea at Pu, in which six bro- 
 thers were married to one wife, but the youngest of the 
 brothers was quite a boy. The husband I saw must 
 have been over thirty ; and as he had two elder brothers, 
 the arrangement, as a whole, struck one as even more 
 revolting than usual. Instances of three. and five hus- 
 bands were quite common ; but, without having gone 
 rigidly into the matter, I should say that the most in- 
 stances of poh-andry were those of two husbands, and 
 that, not because there was any objection to five or six, 
 but simply because no greater number of brothers was 
 usually to be found in a family, as might have been 
 
i88 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 expected from such a system, and as also one of the 
 great ends which that *S3'stem is designed to effect. 
 
 As to the working of polyandry in Tibet, I noticed no 
 particular evidence of its evil effects, though doubtless 
 they exist ; and in this respect I am at one with the 
 other European travellers, with the single exception of 
 the Abbe Desgodins, who draws a very frightful picture 
 of the state of morals in the eastern part of the country. 
 He says : " Les hommes riches peuvent avoir autant de 
 femmes qu'ils le desirent, sans compter que quand ils 
 sont en voyage, et qu'ils font visite a leurs amis, la poli- 
 tesse veut qu'on leur en prete partout. Au Thibet on se 
 prete sa femme comme on se prete une paire de bottes 
 ou un couteau. . . . Les Thibetans n'ont pas non plus 
 le moindre souci de I'honneur de leur filles ; celle qui est 
 devenue mere trouve rneme plus facilement a se marier, 
 par la raison que celui qui I'achete est certain qu'elle 
 n'est pas sterile ; ce devergonaage de mceurs est cause 
 d'une sterilite generale." * There is probably some 
 exaggeration here ; and, -making allowance for that, the 
 description would apply to most semi-civilised races, 
 and need not be charged to the fault of polyandry. The 
 accusation brought by the worthy Abbe against the 
 young persons of Tibet is precisely the same as that 
 which Sir Anthony VVeldon made against the Scotch in 
 the time of James VI., f and can be brought, even at the 
 present day, against a considerable portion of the agri- 
 cultural and pastoral population of Scotland. It is 
 absurd for Europeans to hold up their hands in holy 
 horror at the immorality which they may observe in 
 ruder and less highly favoured countries, when our own 
 
 * "La Mission du Thibet de 1855 a 1870." Verdun, 1S72. 
 + "A Perfect Description of the People and Country of Scotland." 
 Ijondon, 1659. 
 
HA NGRA NG, SPIT/, A ND P OL VA NDR V. 1 89 
 
 centres of civilisation present, in that respect, such curious 
 results. Fraternal polyandry is not merely opposed both 
 to artificial arrangements and the highest morality, but 
 even to our natural instincts. But there is no sense in 
 charging it with evils which we see existing everywhere. 
 It is more revolting than the prostitution, or unlegalised 
 polyandry, of the West ; but its lesson will be lost if it 
 be viewed otherwise than in the cold white light of 
 reason. 
 
 It is almost impossible for us to conceive of such a 
 system being in operation, and of its allowing room for 
 affection between relatives ; and so it may be well to 
 note that it exists. This could only happen among a 
 race of a peculiarly placid, unpassionate temperament, 
 as the Turanians unquestionably are, except in their fits 
 of demoniacal cruelty. They have no hot blood, in our 
 sense of the phrase, and all interests are subordinate to 
 those of the family. This supreme family feeling pre- 
 vents any difficulty arising in connection with the chil- 
 dren, who are regarded as scions of the house rather than 
 of any particular member- of it. It has been said that, 
 where there is more than one husband, the paternity of 
 the child is unknown, but that is doubtful, though all the 
 husbands are held responsible, and there is no notice- 
 able difference in the relationship of a child to his differ- 
 ent fathers. All this would be impossible in a race with 
 strong passions, or where the element of individuality is 
 strongly developed ; but it is exactly in these respects 
 that the Turanians are most deficient. 
 
 Of course there is a large number of surplus women 
 under this polyandric system, and they are provided for 
 in the Lama nunneries, where they learn to read and 
 copy the Tibetan Scriptures, and to engage in religious 
 services. The nunneries have usually a certain amount 
 of land attached to them, which is cultivated by the 
 
I90 THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 occupants, who also hire out their services in the harvest 
 season, I have even had my baggage carried by Lama 
 nuns, when there was a pressure of occupation, and 
 observed nothing particular in their demeanour, except 
 that it was a little more reserved than that of the other 
 women. Of course accidents do happen occasionally; 
 but the excitement which they cause is a proof that 
 they are not very common. When I was at Pii, a great 
 noise was caused by a Lama nun — the daughter of a 
 wealthy zemindar — having suddenly increased the popu- 
 lation of that village, in defiance of the law of popula- 
 tion and her holy vow. About a year before, a visit 
 had been made to Pii by a celebrated Lama from the 
 interior o( Chinese Tibet, whose claims to sanctity were 
 so high that the zemindar invited him to stay in his 
 house and expound the Tibetan Scriptures. The nun 
 came down to these reunions from her convent, a few 
 hundred feet up the mountain-side, and the consequence 
 was the event which I have just noticed. Meanwhile 
 the holy man had meanly, but judicioush', gone 
 back into Chinese Tibet. H'l was hopelessly be\'ond 
 reach ; and the scandal being grcat, the father, both on 
 his own account and on that of his daughter, had to 
 pay about Rs. 300 in all, to che convent, to the scanda- 
 lised village, and to the state. Such offences are readily 
 condoned on a sufficient monetary fine being paid ; but 
 I heard also that the nun would not be reinstated in her 
 former position without undergoing penance and mani- 
 festing contrition. Such a sin, however, can hardl}- tell 
 against her long, if her conduct be correct afterwards ; for 
 the superior of this very monastery had herself an illegiti- 
 mate daughter, who was enrolled among the sisterhood. 
 Some sects of the Lamas are allowed to marry, but those 
 who do not are considered more holy ; and in no sect are 
 the nuns allowed to marry, and they, as well as most of 
 
HANGRANG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. 191 
 
 the monks, take a vow of absolute continence. I am 
 scarcely in a position to have any decided opinion as to 
 how far this vow is observed, but am inclined to believe 
 that it is so usually, notwithstanding the exceptions to 
 the rule. 
 
 The Lama church does not concern itself with the 
 marriage union, though its priests often take part in 
 the ceremonies accompanying the bridal, — as, for in- 
 stance, in fixing upon an auspicious day. Marriages are 
 often concluded at a very early age, by the parents of 
 the parties, and sometimes when the latter are children. 
 In such cases the bride and bridegroom often live for 
 years separate, in -the houses of their respective parents. 
 When the matter has not been previously arranged by 
 his father, the young man who wishes to marry goes to 
 the parents of the girl he has selected with a gift of 
 cJioug, a species of beer which is brewed among the 
 mountains, and this he partakes of along with them. A 
 second visit of the same kind follows, and then a third, 
 when he meets with the object of his choice, and the 
 nuptials are arranged. -In some parts of the country 
 more valuable presents, and even gifts-, of money, are 
 expected, there being a great deal of difference in local 
 usage as to the preliminarie,?.- Women have property in 
 their own right ; and, as a ):-ule, childless women are not 
 regarded in any particular -manner. The choice of a 
 wife is the right of the elder brother ; and among the 
 Tibetan-speaking people it universally prevails that the 
 contract he makes is understood to involve a marital 
 contract with all the other brothers, if they choose to 
 avail themselves of it. 
 
 We haye already seen what Koeppen says as to the 
 origin of this hideous polyandry. Herr Jaeschke also 
 assured me that he knew of no polyandric traditions in 
 Tibet, and that the system there must be indefinitely 
 
192 THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 old. The probability is that it has descended from a state 
 of society somewhat similar to that which at present 
 exists in the Himaliya, but more primitive, ruder, and 
 uninfluenced by the civilisations of India and China ; 
 while those who believe that human beings at one time 
 herded together very much like flocks of animals, see in it 
 a transition from a still more savage past. There is not 
 much use in speculating on, the origin of customs when 
 that origin lies concealed in the mist of antiquity. 
 Such speculation takes very much the shape of finding 
 or inventing uses w4iich the custom under discussion 
 might subserve ; but that is a very unsatisfactory region 
 of thought where there are no historical facts to afford 
 guidance. All we can really say on this subject is, that 
 polyandry does subserve certain useful ends. In a pri- 
 mitive and not very settled state of society, wdien the 
 head of a family is often called away on long mercantile 
 journeys, or to attend at court, or for. purposes of war, 
 it is a certain advantage that he should be able to leave 
 a relative in his place whose interests are bound up with 
 his own. Mr Talboys Wheeler has suggested that poly- 
 andry arose among a pastoral people, whose men were 
 away from their families for months at a time, and 
 where the duty of protecting these families would be 
 undertaken by the brothers in turn. The system cer- 
 tainly answers such an end, and I never knew of a case 
 where a polyandric wife was left without the society of 
 one at least of her husbands. But the great, the notable 
 end which polyandry serves, is that of checking the 
 increase of population in regions from which emigvation 
 is difficult, and where it is also difficult to -increase the 
 means of subsistence. That the Malthusian law, or 
 something very like it, is in operation, is now all but 
 universally admitted by political economists. Theie is 
 a tendency on the part of population to increase at a 
 
HANGRANG, SPITI, AND POLYANDRY. 193 
 
 greater ratio tlian its power of producing food ; and itw 
 more effectual me^ns to check that tendency could well 
 be devised than the system of Tibetan polyandry taken 
 in conjunction with the Lama monasteries and nunneries. 
 Very likely it was never deliberately devised to do so, 
 and came down from some very rude state of society ; 
 but, at all events, it must have been found exceedingly 
 serviceable in repressing population among what Koep- 
 pen so well calls the snow-lands of Asia. If population 
 had increased there at the rate it has in England during 
 this centur}', frightful results must have followed either 
 to the Tibetans or to their immediate neighbours. As it 
 is, almost every one in the Himaliya has either land and 
 a house of his own, or land and a house in which he has 
 a share, and which provide for his protection and sub- 
 sistence. The people are hard-worked in summer and 
 autumn, and they are poor in the sense of having small 
 possessions and few luxuries ; but they are not poor in 
 the sense of presenting a very poor class at a loss how 
 to procure subsistence. I Vv'as a little surprised to find 
 that one of the Moravian missionaries defended the 
 polyandry of the Tibetans, not as a thing to be approved 
 of in the abstract, or tolerated among Christians, but as 
 good for the heathen of so sterile a country. In taking 
 this view, he proceeded on the argument that super- 
 abundant population, in an unfertile country, must be a 
 great calamity, and produce " eternal warfare or eternal 
 want." Turner took also a similar view, and he ex- 
 pressly says, " The influence of this custom on the 
 manners of the people, as far as I could trace, has 
 not been unfavourable. . . . To the privileges of un- 
 bounded liberty the wife here adds the character of mis- 
 tress of the family and companion of her husbands." 
 But, lest so pleasing a picture may delude some 
 strong-minded ladies to get up an agitation for the 
 
194 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 establishment of polyandry in the West, I must say it 
 struck me that the having many husbands sometimes 
 appeared to be only having many masters and in- 
 creased toil and trouble. I also am by no means sure 
 that the Tibetans are so chivalrous as to uphold poly- 
 andry because they regard " the single possession of one 
 woman as a blessing too great for one individual to 
 aspire to." Nor shall I commit myself to the ingenious 
 opinion that "marriage amongst them seems to be con- 
 sidered rather as an odium — a heavy burden — the 
 weight and obloquy of which a whole family are dis- 
 posed to lessen by sharing it among them." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. — THE ALPS AND HIMALIYA. 
 
 The valley of Spiti is secluded in such a very formid- 
 able manner from the civilised world that it has very 
 few European visitors ; and though it has frequently 
 been conquered, yet it is difficult to conceive of its being 
 so, or of any one finding it worth while to conquer it. 
 This province is situated in the centre of the Himaliya, 
 with two great snowy ranges (not to speak of minor ones) 
 between it and the plains of India. There are very few 
 parts in Spiti where we can get below 12,000 feet, while 
 it contains innumerable points which are 20,000 feet 
 high, and its great valley has an average elevation of 
 about 12,800 feet. Elevated and secluded though this 
 province be, it is not to be compared in these admirable 
 respects with Zanskar ; but it is tolerably well raised out 
 of the world. On the east, access can be had to it by 
 the 1 8,000- feet Manerung Pass, or the difficult To-tzo 
 route. From the south, the only entrance is by the 
 desolate Babah Pass, which is 15,000 feet high, and 
 closed great part of the year. To the west, the direction 
 which I am about to pursue, there are no means of exit 
 or access except over glaciers and an utterly desolate 
 region, which requires days in order to traverse it. To 
 the north there are a few passes like the Parangla 
 (18,000 feet), which take towards Ladak : but nobody 
 need go to Ladak in search of civilisation. I did see one 
 solitary apricot-tree at Lari, and some fine willow-trees 
 at Po ; but that about exhausts my arboreal recollections 
 
196 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 of Spiti, or Pi'tf, as the people of the country more 
 usually call it. There are a good many willow, birch, 
 and thorn bushes ; but still there must be a great 
 scarcity of fuel. Notwithstanding that it is about 
 seventy miles long, with a breadth of fifty miles in 
 its upper portion, its population amounts to only about 
 2300 persons, whose language is Tibetan, and whose 
 appearance has some Tartar characteristics. The 
 minstrels, to whom I have already alluded, do not 
 hold land, and afe called Bedas. Captain Harcourt 
 says, " Many of the men resemble veritable Calmucks ; 
 and with few exceptions fall, as do the women, very far 
 below the European standard of beauty ; indeed, for 
 positive hideousness of countenance, the people of Spiti 
 are perhaps pre-eminent in the British Empire." For 
 absolute hideousness, so great as to be almost beauty 
 of a kind, I would back a Spiti old woman against the 
 whole human race ; and the production of one in Europe, 
 with her extraordinary ornaments, could scarcely fail 
 to create a great sensation. The dress of both sexes 
 may be described as tunics and trousers of thick 
 woollen stuff, with large- boots, partly of leather, partly 
 of blanket, which come up to the knee, and which they 
 are not fond of taking off at any time. In order to 
 obtain greater warmth they often put a quantity of flour 
 into these boots, beside their legs, which I fancy is a 
 practice peculiar to Spiti, but might be introduced else- 
 where. The ornaments are very much the same as those 
 of the Chinese Tartars, except that the women have 
 sometimes nose-rings, which adds to their peculiar 
 fascination. Not being affected by caste ideas, as even 
 the Lamaists of Kunawar are, the people of Spiti make 
 no objections to a European eating with them or entering 
 their houses, unless they happen to be rather ashamed 
 of the interior ; but the houses differ very little from 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 197 
 
 those of Zanskar, one of which I shall describe in detail, 
 having had to spend two days in it during a great snow- 
 storm. There is very little rainfall in Spiti ; from No- 
 vember to April all the streams are frozen up, and it is 
 rather a mystery to me how the people obtain sufficient 
 fuel to support life during that long severe period. In 
 summer the fields are watered by artificial channels 
 leading from the mountain torrents ; and it has often a 
 very lively effect vdien the waters are let loose around 
 and over a number of fields. The chief crops are wheat, 
 barley, and peas, the latter affording a valuable addition 
 to the traveller's food, but not so readily purchasable 
 as the grain. One need not look for sugar, fruit, or any 
 other of the luxuries of life, in this exceedingly sterile 
 province. Yaks there are in abundance, along with 
 zo-pos and the common Indian ox ; and the ghiuits, or 
 small ponies, are famous for their sure-fcotedness, their 
 sagacity, and their power of carrying their riders safely 
 up and down the most terrible, dangerous, and fatiguing 
 paths. Horse-racing, of a very irregular sort, is indulged 
 in occasionally ; and the blacksmiths of Spiti are famous 
 in High Asia for their manufacture of steel bits and 
 stirrups. The great substitute for paper here, as in all 
 these snow-lands, is the inner bark of the birch-tree, 
 which is of a light yellow colour, and very soft, though 
 of a close texture. It is very good for all wrapping 
 purposes, and could be used for writing on if needed. 
 The people are singularly exempt from disease, being, 
 to all appearance, afflicted only by a few not bad cases 
 of skin disease, which can easily be accounted for by 
 their persistent avoidance of washing. Spiti is Budhistic ; 
 and there are nearly 400 Lamas in the province, most of 
 whom are bound to celibacy, and only about a dozen 
 nuns, — though that must be quite enough, if it be true, 
 as Captain Harcourt, lately the Assistant Commissioner 
 
198 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 for the three British provinces of Kulu, Lahaul, and 
 Spiti, alleges, that " there are at times scenes of gross 
 debauchery in the monasteries — a state of things which 
 can be believed when Lamas and nuns are living pro- 
 miscuously together." As polyandry exists in the 
 province, the surplus women have to remain in the 
 houses of their parents or other relatives ; but there is 
 no reason to consider the Spiti people as immoral, though 
 they indulge in heavy drinking on special occasions ; 
 and, like most mountaineers, they are exceedingly 
 enamoured of their own lofty country, treeless and 
 sterile though it be, and are extremely unwilling to 
 go down any of the passes which lead to more genial 
 climes. The poverty of this province, however, has not 
 saved it from more than one conquest. Nearly a thou- 
 sand years ago, it was under the Lassa Government; 
 and two centuries after, it fell under the dominion of 
 Kublai Khan. In more recent times, it was sometimes 
 subject to the Chinese Tartars and sometimes to the 
 chiefs of Baltistan or of Ladak, according to which party 
 happened to have the upper hand in the neighbourhood. 
 It came into our possession about thirty years ago, 
 through an arrangement with the Maharajah of Kashmir, 
 into whose power it had fallen, and was conjoined with 
 Kulu under an Assistant Commissioner in 1849. 
 
 Dankar, the capital of Spiti, should properly be 
 spelled " Drankhar," which means "The cold fort." KIim\ 
 with an aspirate, signifies a fort, as Dan-kar is, or rather 
 was ; but ktxr means white. Hence it has been a decided 
 error to call this place Dankar; but I shall leave the 
 correction of it to Dr W. W. Hunter and his department, 
 for though Spiti does not boast of a post-office, yet it is 
 a British province. The precise height of this village 
 is 12,776 feet, so it may easily be conceived that the 
 nights were intensely cold in our light tents, and that 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. igg 
 
 there was some little difficulty in rousing my people in 
 the morning. From Dankar, or rather from Kazeh or 
 Kaja, a day's journey beyond, my course was a novel 
 one, almost unknown to Himaliyan tourists. When 
 considering, at Simla, how I should best see the Hima- 
 liya and keep out of the reach of the Indian monsoon, I 
 had the advantage of an old edition of Montgomerie's 
 map, in which the mountains and rivers are laid in, but ( 
 which is now out of print ; and I saw from it that the lie 
 of the Himaliya to the north-west presented a series of 
 rivers and elevated valleys, in the very centre of the 
 ranges, which would enable me to proceed to Kashmir 
 by almost a new route, and one of great interest. I 
 could get no information about this route, further than 
 was conveyed by the admission of a Panjabi captain, 
 who had been in the Himaliya, and who said on my 
 consulting him on the subject, " Well, I should think it 
 would be very possible." It certainly proved to be so, 
 seeing that I got over the ground ; and I got some infor- 
 mation regarding it from the Moravian missionaries. 
 
 What I had to do was to follow up the Lee or Spiti 
 river almost to its source, then to cross the Kanzam Pass 
 into the frightfully desolate Shigri valley, or valley of , 
 the Chandra river ; to follow down that river to its junc- 
 tion with the Bhaga ; to follow up the Bhaga for a few 
 marches, and then to cross over the tremendous Shinkal 
 Pass on to the Tsarap Lingti river, and the valleys 
 through which streams flow into the upper Indus. It is 
 the first portion of this journe}^ that I have now to speak 
 of; and to render it intelligible, it is only necessary for 
 the reader to follow up the Spiti river as far as he can 
 get, to cross the mountains at its source, and then to 
 descend the Chandra river to its junction with the 
 Bhaga. 
 
 At Kazeh, a day's journey from Dankar, I left the 
 
200 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 usual track, which goes over the Parangla Pass to 
 Changchemmo and Leh, and which involves a journey 
 that is on many grounds objectionable. Here I had the 
 choice of two routes, one on the left and one on the right 
 bank of the Lee, but chose the latter ; and as the former 
 was within sight great part of the way, I had the oppor- 
 tunity of observing that it was considerably the worst of 
 the two, though an inexperienced traveller might rashly 
 conclude that nothing could be worse than the one I 
 followed. To Kazeh we kept up the left bank of the 
 Lee, which was no longer sunk in deep gorges, but had 
 a broad open valley, and spreads itself here and there 
 amid a waste of white stones. Here I crossed the river, 
 at a point where the banks drew close together, and on 
 what, by courtesy, might be called a wooden bridge. 
 This sangpa is very high and shaky, and the central por- 
 tion of it is composed of three logs, without any parapet, 
 and with loose branches laid across it, which are awkward 
 and dangerous to step upon. Stopping for breakfast at 
 the village of Kharig, I saw the large Lama monastery 
 of Ki on the other side of the river, perched on the top 
 of a hill in a very extraordinary manner. This monas- 
 tery, according to Csoma de Koros, was established in 
 the eleventh century of the Christian era by a pupil of 
 the well-knoAvn Atisha. It is a celebrated place ; but 
 (whether or not it contains any portion of the dozen 
 Spiti nuns) its monks do not seem to exercise much 
 civilising-influence in their own neighbourhood, for the 
 people of Kharig were much more like thorough savages 
 than the residents of any other Himali}-an village which 
 I entered. It being rather a liot day, the children, and 
 even bays and girls of ten and twelve }'ears old, were 
 entirely naked ; and the number of children was far 
 beyond the usual proportion to that of households. 
 Morang, where we camped, is a small village even for 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 
 
 these mountains, and is about i3,oco feet high; but it 
 had an intelligent and exceedingly obliging im'ikea — the 
 functionary who provides for the wants of travellers — 
 who had been educated by the Moravian brethren in 
 Lahaul, and spoke Hindusthani. There was a wonderful 
 view from this place both up and down the great valley 
 of the Spiti river, bounded downwards by the Rupa- 
 khago, or the snowy mountains of the Manerung Pass, 
 and upwards by a grand 20,00C-feet peak, supporting an 
 enormous bed of neve. Both on this day's journey and 
 on the next, the banks of the river and the mountains 
 above them presented the most extraordinary castellated 
 forms. In many parts the bed of the Lee was hundreds 
 of yards broad, and was composed of white shingle, great 
 part of which was uncovered by water. The steep banks 
 above this white bed had been cut by the action of the 
 elements, so that a series of small fortresses, temples, and 
 spires seemed to stand out from them. Above these, 
 again, gigantic mural precipices, bastions, towers, castles, 
 citadels, and spires rose up thousands of feet in height, 
 mocking, in their immensity and grandeur, the puny 
 efforts of human art, and yet presenting almost all the 
 shapes and effects which our architecture has been able 
 to devise ; while, yet higher, the domes of pure white 
 snow and glittering spires of ice far surpassed in perfec- 
 tion, as well as ih immensit}^, all the Moslem musjids 
 and minars. It was passing strange tofind the inorganic 
 world thus anticipating, on so gigantic a scale, some 
 of the loftiest efforts of human art ; and it is far from 
 unhkely that the builders of the Taj and of the Pearl 
 Mosque at Agra only embodied in marble a dream of 
 the snows of the Himaliya or of the Hindu Kush. 
 
 After leaving Morang, Ave crossed another shaky 
 sangpa over the Gyundi river, and another one before 
 reaching Kiotro, where we encamped in a sort of hollow 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 beyond the village. The place seemed shut in on every 
 side ; but that did not preserve us from a frightful wind 
 which blew violently all night, and, with the thermo- 
 meter at 43°, rendered sleep nearly impossible in my 
 tent. There was a good path on the left bank of the Lee 
 for my next day's journey from Kiotro to Loisar ; and 
 the rock-battlements were more wonderful than ever'; 
 but just before reaching that latter place, we had to cross 
 to the right bank of the river by means of a very un- 
 pleasant j'/mla, the side-ropes of which were so low as 
 to make walking along it painful. In Loisar, instead of 
 using my tent, I occupied a small mud-room which the 
 Government of British India has been good enough to 
 erect for the benefit of travellers. I do not know what 
 the reason may be for this unusual act of generosity. 
 Perhaps it is because Loisar is one of the highest villages 
 in the world, though it is inhabited all the year round, 
 being 13,395 feet above the level of the sea. Notwith- 
 standing this extreme altitude, it has a good many fields 
 in which various kinds of grain are cultivated, and there 
 is not a little pasture-land in its neighbourhood. The 
 care of a paternal Government had even gone the length 
 of keeping this room clean and free fromjnsects; so it 
 was a pleasant change from my tent, the more so as it 
 began to rain, and rain at 13,395 feet very soon displays 
 a tendency to turn into sleet and snow. A tent is very 
 healthy and delightful up to a certain point; but it 
 hardly affords any higher temperature than that of the 
 external air; and on these great altitudes at night the 
 air cools down so rapidly, and to such an extent, that it 
 may be a source of danger to some people. There is a 
 safeguard, however, in the purity of the Himaliyan air 
 and in our continuously open-air life among the moun- 
 tains. I have been injured by the unusual severity of 
 :the winter this year in England; yet got no harm, but 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 203 
 
 rather positive benefit, from camping on snow for nights 
 together in my thin tent in Zanskar and Siiru, and in 
 much more severe weather than we have had here lately. 
 Still, the paternal Government's mud-palace at Loisar 
 was an agreeable change, and atforded me the luxury of 
 a sounder sleep than I had had for several nights. The 
 Nako-wallah, however, did not at all appreciate the 
 advantages of having a solid habitation about him. I 
 should have thought it would have been simple enough 
 even for his tastes ; but nothing would satisfy that fleecy 
 dog until he was allowed to lie outside of the door instead 
 of inside, though that latter position exposed him to 
 hostile visits from all the dogs of the village ; and there 
 was a ferocious growling kept .up all night outside the 
 door, which, however, was music to me compared with 
 the howling of the wind about my tent, to which I had 
 been exposed for two or three nights previously. 
 
 At Loisar I had to arrange for a very hard journey of 
 five days, over a wild stretch of country where there are 
 no villages, no houses, and scarcely any wood, so that 
 supplies of every kind have to be taken for it. In order 
 to get into Lahaul, and hit the junction of the Chandra 
 and Bhaga rivers on the cut road which runs from Simla 
 to Leh, two routes are available from Loisar, both in- 
 volving a stretch of days over a desolate and glacier- 
 covered country. They both pursue the same course for 
 nearly a day's- journey on to the gradual western slope 
 of the Kanzam or Kanzal Pass ; but before crossing it, 
 one route takes off to the right, up the highest portion of 
 the valley of the Chandra river, until it strikes the cut 
 road to Leh, near the top of the Barra Lacha Pass 
 (16,221 feet), and then descends the Bhaga to the junc- 
 tion of j:he two rivers, along the cut road and down a 
 valley where there are plenty of villages. This was the 
 road which I wished to follow, because I always pre- 
 
204 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 ferred keeping as high up as possible ; but the people at 
 Loisar, who were to furnish me with coolies, declared 
 against that route, and implored me not to insist upon 
 going by it. There is a very difficult river to be forded, 
 \ the water of which is so rapid that the bigarries, or 
 porters, can only manage to get through by holding one 
 another's hands and forming a long line. When Sir 
 Douglas Forsyth was Commissioner of the Hill States, 
 he passed over this route, losing two of his bigarries 
 (women, I think) in this river ; and though he com- 
 pensated their families, this unfortunate event is ad- 
 vanced to this day as a conclusive reason against the 
 Barra Lacha route, and will probably be so advanced for 
 centuries, if the world lasts as long. 
 
 Hence I had to adopt the other route, which proved 
 to be quite elevated and cold enough. It crosses the 
 Kanzam Pass at a height of almost 15,000 feet, and 
 then goes down the Chandra river on its left bank, 
 through what is called by the natives the Shigri valley, 
 until it reaches the cut road to Leh at the foot, and on 
 the north side, of the Rotang Pass, which is 13,000 feet 
 high, and the mountains of which separate Lahaul from 
 the Kulu valley. Immediately after that point, this 
 route crosses the river to the village of Kokser, and pro- 
 ceeds from thence to the junction of the Chandra and 
 Bhaga, from whence there are various, but all rather 
 difficult, routes leading to Kashmir. The two routes I 
 have mentioned, which meet at the head of the Chandra- 
 Bhaga — or what is almost equivalent to them, these two 
 rivers before their junction — enclose a large extent of 
 great glaciers and immense snowy mountains, with no 
 habitations, and almost' inaccessible to human beings. 
 An equally high range runs down the left bank of the 
 Chandra (the route which I followed), throwing out its 
 . glaciers down to and almost across the river ; so that it 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 205 
 
 may easily be conceived that few portions even of the 
 HimaHya, which are at all accessible, afford such a stretch 
 of desolation and of wild sublimity. 
 
 It was necessary for me, on this part of the journey, 
 to take sixteen bigarries, nearly half of whom were 
 women, besides an extra yak to carry wood ; and for my 
 own use I got a little dark Spiti mare, which looked 
 nothing to speak of, but actually performed marvels. 
 We also took with us a small flock of milch goats, which 
 could pick up subsistence by the way, and one or two 
 live sheep to be made into mutton on the journey. 
 Starting, at six on the morning of the 25th August, with 
 the thermometer at 42°, the first part of the journey 
 gave no idea of the desolation which was soon to be 
 encountered. The day was bright and delightful, and 
 the air even purer and more exhilarating than usual, as 
 might be expected above 13,000 feet. A it"^ miles be- 
 yond Loisar we came to the end of the. Lee or Spiti 
 river, which I had now followed up from its confluence 
 with the' Sutlej, through one of the wildest and most 
 singular valleys in the world. Its whole course is 145 
 miles ; but such figures give no idea of the time and 
 immense toil which are required in order to follow it upj 
 that short course, in which it has a fall of about 6000 
 feet. It has an extraordinary end, which has already 
 been described, and also a curious commencement ; for 
 it begins, so to speak, at once, in a broad white bed of 
 sand and stones, being there created by the junction of 
 two short and (when I saw them) insignificant streams, 
 of about equal size and length ; the Lichu, which comes 
 from the Kanzam Pass, and the Pitu, which has its rise 
 in the 20,000 snowy peak Kiii, Earlier in the season, 
 however, just after mid-day, when the snows and 
 glaciers are in full melting order, there must be a mag- 
 
2o6 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 nificent body of water in this upper portion of the Lee, 
 raging and foaming along from bank to brae. 
 
 Turning south-west, up the Li'chu river, we found a 
 beautiful valley, full of small willow-trees and bright 
 green grass, though it could have been very little less 
 than 14,000 feet high. It was the most European-look- 
 ing valley I saw among the Himaliya before reaching 
 Kashmir; and it was followed by easy grassy slopes, 
 variegated by sunshine and the shade of passing clouds, 
 which slopes led up to the extreme summit of the 
 Kanzam or Kanzal Pass, a height of 14,937 feet Here 
 there was a very imposing view in front, of immense 
 glaciers and snowy peaks, over or about 20,000 feet 
 high, which rose up not far from perpendicularly, on the 
 other side of the youthful Chandra river, which raged 
 down far beneath our feet, in a manner which made it 
 no wonder that the Kokser people were unwilling to 
 encounter its turbid current. These mountains are the 
 L peaks of the Topographical Survey ; three of them 
 had some resemblance to the Matterhorn, though with 
 more snow, and they rose abruptly from the Chandra, so 
 as in the pure air to appear almost within a stone's-throw 
 of the place on which we stood. Great overhanging beds 
 of iieve fed enormous glaciers, which stretched down to 
 the river like buttresses of the three nearest peaks. To 
 an unpractised eye, it might have seemed as if the 
 glaciers extended only half-way to the Chandra, because 
 the lower portions of them were not only thickly covered 
 with debris of rock, but in some places this debris bore 
 living grass. This is a striking phenomenon, which 
 occurs on the Himaliyan glaciers ; but I shall return to 
 the subject directly, when I get upon the great glaciers 
 of the Shigri valley. 
 
 There was a steep descent from the top of the 
 Kanzam Pass to the Chandra river, which we followed 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 207 
 
 down a short way until a camping-ground was found 
 about the height of 14,000 feet, beside a sort of pond 
 formed by a back-flow of a tributary of the Chandra. 
 Looking down the valley, immense glaciers were seen 
 flowing down the clefts in the high mural precipices on 
 both sides of the Chandra, and extending from the great 
 beds of snow above, down to, and even into the river. 
 This was the Abode of Snow, and no mistake ; for 
 nothing else but snow, glaciers, and rocks were to be 
 seen, and the great ice-serpents crept over into this 
 dread valley as if they were living monsters. In the 
 local dialect Shigri means a glacier ; but the word is 
 applied to the upper Chandra valley ; so that the Shigri 
 valley may be called, both literally and linguistically, 
 the "Valley of Glaciers." But the collection of glaciers 
 between the Chandra and Bhaga rivers, large though 
 it be, is really insignificant compared to the enor- 
 mous congeries of them to be found on the southern 
 side of Zanskar. There was no sward here of -an}- 
 description ; and I began to realise the force of the 
 Afghan proverb, " When the wood of Jugduluk burns 
 you begin to melt gold." Of this Shigri valley, in 
 which we spent the next four days, it may well be 
 said that — 
 
 " Bare is it, without house or track, and destitute 
 Of obvious slielter as a sliipless sea." 
 
 That, however, is by no means the worst of it ; and 
 in the course of the afternoon a fierce storm of wind, 
 rain, and snow added to the savagery of the scene. As 
 I had noticed from the top of the pass, some of the 
 clouds of the monsoon seemed to have been forced 
 over the two ranges of lofty mountains between us 
 and the Indian plains ; and soon the storm-clouds 
 began to roll grandly among the snowy peaks which 
 
2o8 THE ABODE OF SNO IV. 
 
 rose. c]ose above us on every side. That spectacle 
 was glorious ; but it was not so pleasant when the 
 clouds suddenly descended upon us, hiding the peaks, 
 and discharging themselves in heavy rain where we 
 were, but in snow a few hundred feet above. There 
 was a storm-wind, which came — 
 
 " Like Auster whirling to and fro. 
 
 His force on Caspian foam to try; 
 Or Boreas, when he scours the snow 
 That skims the plains of Thessaly." 
 
 The thermometer sank at once to 41° from about 65"; 
 and during the night it got down to freezing-point 
 within my tent. Before night the clouds lifted, show- 
 ing new-fallen snow all round us. In the twilight 
 everything looked white, and assumed a ghastly 
 appearance. The pond was white, and so were the 
 stones around it, the foaming river, and the chalky 
 ground on which our tents were pitched. The sides 
 of the mountains were white with pure new-fallen 
 snow; the overhanging glaciers were partly covered 
 with it ; the snowy peaks were white, and so were 
 the clouds, faintly illuminated by the setting sun, 
 veiled with white mist. After dark, the clouds 
 cleared away entirely, and, clearly seen in the bril- 
 liant starlight — 
 
 " Above the spectral glaciers shone" 
 
 beneath the icy peaks ; while, above all, the hosts of 
 heaven gleamed with exceeding brightness in the high 
 pure air. The long shining cloud of the Milky Way 
 slanted across the white valley ; Vega, my star, was 
 past its zenith; and the Tsaat Rishi — the seven 
 prophets of the Hindus, or the seven stars of our 
 Great Bear — were sinking behind the mountains. 
 We had some difficulty in getting off by six next 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 209 
 
 morning-, when the thermometer was at 36°, and every 
 one was suffering from, the cold. Unfortunately, too, 
 we had to ford several icy-cold streams shortly after 
 leaving camp, for they would have been unfordable 
 farther on in the day. There are no bridges on this 
 wild route; and I could not help pitying the poor 
 women who, on this cold morning, had to wade 
 shivering through the streams, with the rapid water 
 dashing up almost to their waists. Still, on every 
 side there were 20,000-feet snowy peaks and over- 
 hanging glaciers, while great beds of snow curled 
 over the tops of the mural precipices. After a few 
 miles the Chandra ceased to run from north to south, 
 and turned so as to flow from east to west ; but there 
 was no change in the sublime and terrific character 
 of the scenery. Out of the enormous beds of snow 
 above, w>henever there is an opening for them — 
 
 " The glaciers creep 
 Like snakes that watch their prey ; from their far fount^ns 
 Slowly rolling on ; there many a precipice, 
 Frost, and the sun, in scorn of mortal power, 
 Have piled — dome, ])yramid, and pinnacle— 
 A city of death, distinct with many a tower, 
 And wall impregnable of beaming ice. 
 Yet not a city, but a flood of ruin 
 Is there, that from the boundaries of the sky 
 Rolls its perpetual stream." 
 
 We were soon doomed to make a closer acquaintance 
 with some of these enormous glaciers. Ere long we 
 caine to one which stretched down all the way into the 
 river, so there was no flanking it. At first it looked 
 as if we were painfully crossing the huge ridges of a 
 fallen mountain ; but this soon proved to be an im- 
 mense glacier, very thickly covered over with slabs 
 of clay-slate, and with large blocks of granite and 
 gneiss, but with the solid ice underneath exposed here 
 
 o 
 
2IO THE ABODE GF SNOW. 
 
 and there, and especially in the surfaces of the large 
 crevasses, which went down to unknown depths. This 
 glacier, as also others which followed, was a frightfully 
 fatiguing and exasperating thing to cross, and occu- 
 pied us nearly three hours, our guides being rather at 
 a loss in finding a way over, I should have been 
 the whole day upon it, but for the astounding per- 
 formances of my little Spiti mare, which now showed 
 how wise had been the selection of it for this difficult 
 journey. Never had I before fully realised the goat- 
 Fike agility of these animals, and I almost despair of 
 making her achievements credible. She sprang from 
 block to block of granite, even with my weight upon 
 her, like an ibex. No one who had not seen the per- 
 formance of a Spiti pony could have believed it possible 
 for any animal of the kind to go over the ground at all, 
 and much less with a rider upon it. But this mare went 
 steadily with me up and down the ridges, over the great 
 rough blocks of granite and the treacherous slabs of 
 slate. I had to dismount and walk, or rather climb a 
 little, onl}/ three or four times, and that not so much 
 from necessity as from pity for the little creature, which 
 was trembling in every limb from the great leaps and 
 other exertions which she had to make. On these occa- 
 sions she required no one to lead her, but followed us 
 like a dog, and was obedient to the voice of her owner. 
 Shortly before coming to the glacier, I thought she was 
 going over a precipice with me, owing to her losing her 
 footing on coming down some high steps ; but she saved 
 herself by falling on her knees and then making a mar- 
 vellous side-spring. On the glacier, also, though she 
 sometimes lost her footing, yet she always managed to 
 recover it immediately in some extraordinary way. Her 
 great exertions there did not require any goad, and 
 ..arose from her own spirit and eager determination to 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 
 
 overcome the obstacles which presented themselves, 
 though in ordinary circumstances she was perfectly- 
 placid, and content to jog along as slowly as might be. 
 Even when I was on this mare, she would poise herself 
 on the top of a block of granite, with her four feet close 
 together after the manner of a goat, and she leaped 
 across crevasses of unknown depth after having to go 
 down a slippery slope on one side, and when, on the 
 other, she had nothing to jump upon except steeply- 
 inclined blocks of stone. The two Loisar yaks also, 
 magnificent black creatures with enormous white tails, 
 did wonders ; but their indignant grunting was some- 
 thing to hear. They had to be goaded a good deal, 
 and were not so surprising as the slender-legged Spiti 
 mare. Of course the latter had no shoes ; and it is not 
 usual to shoe the horses of the Himali}-a, though they do 
 so sometimes in Kashmir; and in Wukhan, to the north 
 of the Oxus, there is the curious compromise of shoeing 
 them with deer's horn, which protects the hoofs, while 
 presenting a surface less slippery than iron, and one 
 more congenial to the horse's tender foot. There was 
 something affecting in the interest which this mare and 
 some of the other mountain ponies I had elsewhere 
 took in surmounting difficulties, and not less so in the 
 eagerness, at stiff places, of the foals which often accom- 
 panied us without carrying any burden. Thus in early 
 youth they get accustomed to mountain journeys and to 
 the strenuous exertions which these involve. At the 
 same time, the Himaliyan ponies husband their breath 
 very carefully in going up long ascents, and no urging 
 on these occasions will force them to go faster than they 
 think right, or prevent them from stopping every now 
 and then just as long as they think proper. These are 
 matters which must be left entirely to the ponies them- 
 selves, and they do not abuse the liberty which they 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 claim. More tr3-ing is their fondness for trotting or am- 
 bling down the steepest ascents on which they can at all 
 preserve their footing ; and they show considerable im- 
 patience when restrained from doing so, and have expres- 
 sive ways of their own of saying to their rider, "Why 
 don't you trust me, and let me go down at my own pace ? 
 I shall take you quite safely." This ambling down 
 a precipitous mountain-side is particularly unpleasant 
 when the path is a corkscrew one, with many and sharp 
 turnings, because when the pony rushes down at a turn- 
 ing, it seems as if its impetus must carry it on and over j 
 but at the last moment it manages to twist itself round, 
 so that it can proceed in another direction ; and I think 
 these intelligent little creatures take a pride in making 
 as narrow a shave of the precipice as possible, and in 
 making their riders feel as uncomfortable as they can. 
 They are also great in wriggling you round delicate 
 points of rock, where the loss of half an inch would send 
 both horse and rider into the abyss. They do positively 
 enjoy these ticklish places ; and the more ticklish the 
 place, and the deeper the precipice below, the more do 
 they enjoy it, and the more preternaturally sagacious do 
 they become. They sniff at such a place with delight ; 
 get their head and neck round the turning; experiment 
 carefully to feel that the pressure of your knee against 
 the rock will not throw the whole concern off its balance, 
 and then they wriggle their bodies round triumphantly, 
 I speak in this way, however, only of the best ponies 
 of Spiti and Zanskar, and not of those of Lahaul, or of 
 any of the lower Himali)'an provinces, which are much 
 inferior. 
 
 While stopping for breakfast on this great glacier, the 
 ice beneath the stones on which we were gave a great 
 crack, and the stones themselves sank a little way. This 
 caused a general removal, and it looked as if we had 
 
SHICRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 213 
 
 seated ourselves for breakfast over a crevasse (not a wise 
 thing to do), the mouth of which had been blocked up 
 with stones. To do Silas and Nurdass justice, they 
 stuck by the breakfast-things, and removed these also; 
 but that was, perhaps, because they did not understand 
 the danger we were in. The place had been selected 
 because of its affording shelter from the wind ; but when, 
 after the crack occurred, I examined it closely, I saw 
 quite clearly that we had been sitting between the lips 
 of a crevasse which had got blocked up with rocks, and 
 that the place was eminently an unsafe one. Our Loisar 
 bigarries had a story about the rocks on this glacier 
 having been owing to the fall of a mountain-peak which 
 had formerly existed in the immediate neighbourhood. 
 Very possibly there may have been a land-slip of the 
 kind ; but the coolies varied in their legend about the 
 fall of the peak, some saying that it occurred two gene- 
 rations, and others twelve years ago. When questioned 
 on the subject, they acknowledged that the glacier must 
 move, because every summer they had to find a new 
 path across it, and had to erect fresh marks in order to 
 indicate the way. There are so many crumbling peaks 
 and precipices about the great fountains of this glacier, 
 that there is no absolute need for the theory or legend of 
 the Loisar people to explain its covered condition. This 
 glacier clearly arose from a number of large glaciers 
 meeting in a great valley above, filling that up, and then 
 pushing themselves over its rim in one great ice-stream 
 down to the river ; and the crumbling precipices and 
 peaks around were quite sufficient to supply the rocks 
 we saw below. So compact had the covering got, that 
 in some places I observed grass and flowers growing on 
 this glacier. Coleridge has sung of the " living flowers 
 that skirt the eternal frost," but here the flowers were 
 blooming on the eternal frost itself. 
 
214 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 Occasionally, I think, a living flower is found on 
 Swiss glaciers, but very rarely — whereas on the 
 Himaliyan, flowers are by no means uncommon ; and 
 the circumstance is easily accounted for by the greater 
 power of the sun in the Himaliyan regions, and also 
 by the fact, that when the glaciers get down a certain 
 distance, they are so thickly covered by shattered rocks 
 that they have to work their wa\% as it were, under- 
 ground. In Switzerland, one often sees the great 
 ploughshare of a glacier coming down into a green 
 valley and throwing up the turf before it ; but usually 
 among the Himaliya, long before the glacier reaches 
 any green valley, it is literally overwhelmed and buried 
 beneath the shattered fragments of rock from the 
 gigantic precipices and peaks around. This slackens, 
 without altogether arresting, its progress ; so that in 
 many places the debris is allowed sufficient rest to 
 permit of the growth of grass and flowers. It struck 
 me that in some places there were even what might be 
 called subterranean glaciers ; that is to say, that the 
 fallen debris had so fallen together and solidified, that 
 the ice-stream worked below it without disturbing the 
 solidified surface. 
 
 And here, as I am well acquainted with the Alps, it 
 may not be amiss for me to compare the Himaliya with 
 these European mountains, which are so well known to 
 the English public. The Himdliya, as a whole, are not 
 so richly apparelled as the Alps. In Kashmir, and some 
 parts of the Sntlej valley, and of the valleys on their 
 Indian front, they are rich in the most glorious vegeta- 
 tion, and present, in that respect, a more picturesque 
 appearance than any parts of Switzerland can boast 
 of; but one may travel among the great ranges of the 
 Asiatic mountains for weeks, and even months, through, 
 the most sterile scenes, without coming on any of these 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 215 
 
 regions of beauty. There is not here the same close union 
 of beauty and grandeur, lovehness and sublimity, which 
 is everywhere to be found over the Alps. There is a 
 terrible want of level ground and of green meadows 
 enclosed by trees. Except in Kashmir, and about the 
 east of Ladak, there are no lakes. We miss much those 
 Swiss and Italian expanses of deep blue water, in which 
 white towns and villages, snowy peaks and dark moun- 
 tains, are so beautifully mirrored. There is also a great 
 want of perennial waterfalls, of great height and beauty, 
 such as the Staubbach ; though in summer, during the 
 heat of the day, the Himaliya in several places present 
 long graceful streaks of dust-foam. 
 
 The striking contrasts and the more wonderful scenes 
 are not crowded together as they are in Switzerland. 
 Both eye and mind are apt to be wearied among the 
 Himali}'a by the unbroken repetition of similar scenes 
 during continuous and arduous travel, extending over 
 days and weeks together ; and one sorely misses 
 Goethe's Eksc/icn, or the beautiful little corners of nature 
 which satisfy the eye and mind alike. The picture 
 is not sufficiently filled up in its detail, and the con- 
 tinuous repetition of the vast outlines is apt to become 
 oppressive. The very immensity of the Himaliya pre- 
 vents us from often beholding at a glance, as among the 
 Alps, the wonderful contrast of green meadows, darker 
 pines, green splintered glaciers, dark precipitous cliffs, 
 blue distant -hills, white slopes of snow and glittering icy 
 summits. There are points in the Sutlej valley and in 
 Kashmir where something like this is presented, and in 
 a more overpowering manner than anywhere in Europe; 
 but months of difficult travel separate these two regions," 
 and their beauty cannot be said to characterise the 
 Himaliya generally. But what, even in Switzerland, 
 would be great mountains, are here dwarfed into insi^r- 
 
2i6 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 nificant hills ; and it requires some time for the eye to 
 understand the immense Himaliyan heights and depths. 
 Some great rock, or the foot of some precipice, which is 
 pointed out as our camping-place for the night, looks at 
 first as if it were only a few hundred feet off, but after 
 hours of arduous ascent, it seems almost as far off as ever. 
 
 The human element of the Western mountains is 
 greatly wanting in those of the East ; for though here 
 and there a ■monastery like Ki, or a village like Dan- 
 kar, may stand out picturesquely on the top of a hill, 
 yet, for the most part, the dingy-coloured, flat-roofed 
 Himaliyan hamlets are not easily distinguishable from 
 the rocks amid which they stand. The scattered cJidlets 
 and sen huts of Switzerland are wholly wanting ; and 
 the European traveller misses the sometimes bright and 
 comely faces of the peasantry of the Alps. I need 
 scarcely say, also, that the more wonderful scenes of the 
 Abode of Snow are far from being easily accessible, even 
 when we are in the heart of the great mountains. And 
 it can hardly be said that the cloudland of the Hima- 
 liya is so varied and gorgeous as that of the mountains 
 of Europe, though the sky is of a deeper blue, and the 
 heavens are much more brilliant at night. 
 
 But when all these admissions in favour of Switzer- 
 land are made, the Himaliya still remain unsurpassed, 
 and even unapproached, as regards ail the wilder and 
 grander features of mountain scenery. There is no- 
 thing in the Alps which can afford even a faint idea 
 of the savage desolation and appalling sublimity of 
 many of the Himaliyan scenes. Nowhere, also, have 
 the faces of the mountains been so scarred and riven by 
 the nightly action of frost and the mid-day floods from 
 melting snow. In almost every valley we see places 
 where whole peaks or sides of great mountains have 
 very recently come shattering down; and the thoughtful 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 217 
 
 traveller must feel that no power or knowledge he pos- 
 sesses can secure him against such a catastrophe, or 
 prevent his bones being buried, so that there would be 
 little likelihood of their release until the solid earth dis- 
 solves. And, though rare, there are sudden passages 
 from these scenes of grandeur and savage desolation to 
 almost tropical luxuriance, and more than tropical 
 beauty of organic nature. Such changes are startling 
 and delightful, as in the passage from Dras into the 
 upper Sind valley of Kashmir ; while there is nothing 
 finer in the world of vegetation than the great cedars, 
 pines, and sycamores of many of the lower valleys. 
 
 It is needless to look in the Himaliya for a population 
 so energetic and interesting as the Swiss, the Vaudois, 
 or the Tyrolese ; and these mountains have no women 
 whose attractions at all approach those of the Italian 
 side of the Alps from Lugano eastward, or of the valleys 
 of the Engadine and the Tyrol. The Tibetan popula- 
 tion is hardly abundant enough, or of sufficiently strong 
 morale, for heroic or chivalric efforts, such as have been 
 made by the ancient Greeks, the Swiss, the Waldenses, 
 the Scotch Highlanders, and the mountaineers of some 
 other parts of Europe, and even of Asia, There are tra- 
 ditions enough among the Himaliya, but they usually 
 relate either to the founding of monasteries, the destruc- 
 tion of invaders like Zorawar Singh, whose forces had 
 been previously dispersed by the troops of Lassa ; or the 
 death of travelling parties in snowstorms, and from the 
 avalanches of snow or rock. Nowhere, unless in the 
 vast cloudy forms of Hindu mythology, do we meet 
 with traditions of heroes or sages of whom it can be 
 said, that 
 
 " Their spirits wrapt the dusky mountain j 
 Their mem'ry sparkled o'er the fountain j 
 The meanest lill, the mightiest river. 
 Rolled mingling with their fame for ever." 
 
2 1 8' THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 How easily Kashmir, with a European population, 
 night have guarded its passes and preserved its inde- 
 pendence ! but it has scarcely ever made any attempt to 
 do so; and the people of Tibet have not shown much 
 more heroism, though they have had abundant experi- 
 ence of fighting. The introduction of Budhism into this 
 elevated country was no doubt accomplished only by 
 means of much self-sacrifice on the part of its early 
 missionaries ; but the shadowy forms of that, age are 
 most indistinctly seen, and have little attraction for the 
 modern European. There is much of interest, how- 
 ever, in Lamaism and in the very peculiar customs of 
 the Tibetan race ; and I found it impossible to move 
 among these people, especially in the more primitive 
 parts of the country, without contracting a great liking 
 for them, and admiration for their honesty, their patience, 
 and their placidity of temper, in circumstances which 
 must be trying for these virtues. 
 
 The Alps extend only for about 600 miles, counting 
 their extreme length from Hungary to the Mediter- 
 ranean, and their lateral extent is very narrow; but the 
 Himaliya proper are at least 1 500 miles in length. They 
 are a great deal more if we add to them the Hindu Kush, 
 which really constitute only a continuation of the range, 
 and their breadth is so great that at some points it is 
 more than half the entire length of the Alps. If, as 
 Royle remarks, we consider the Hindu Kiish to be a 
 continuation, not so much of the Kuen-lung, as of the 
 Himaliya, then these latter extend from the equator (by 
 their branches into the Malay Peninsula) to 45 degrees 
 of north latitude, and over 73 degrees of longitude. 
 That is a gigantic space of the earth's surface, and 
 affords a splendid base for the giant peaks which rise up 
 to almost 30,000 feet; but, as I have already hinted, 
 there is even more meaning tluin this, and more pro- 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 219 
 
 prlety than the Arabs themselves understood, in their 
 phrase, "The Stony Girdle of the Earth," because this 
 great central range can easily be traced from the moun- 
 tains of Formosa in the China Sea to the Pyrenees, 
 where they sink into the Mediterranean. This fact has 
 not escaped the notice of geographers ; and Dr Mackay 
 especially has drawn attention to it in his admirable 
 " Manual of Modern Geography," though he has not 
 known the expressive phrase of his Arab predecessors. 
 The Western Himaliya are a series of nearly parallel 
 ranges lying from south-east to north-west. They are 
 properly the Central Himaliya; the Hindu Kush are 
 the Western ; and what are now called the Central Him- 
 aliya are the Eastern. These are the most obvious great 
 natural divisions i^bufe'additional confusion is caused by 
 the Inner Himali\a, or the interior ranges, being also 
 sometimes spoken of as the Central. It' is more usual, 
 however, to take the Pamir Steppe as a centre, and to 
 speak of the western range as a boundary wall to the 
 high tableland of Western Asia, separating the waters 
 of the Arabian Gulf from those of the Caspian, the Black 
 Sea, and the Aral. That portion consists of the Hindu 
 Kush, the Parapomisan mountains, the Elburz, the Zag- 
 ros of Kurdistan, Ararat and the Armenian mountains, 
 the Taurus and Anti-Taurus; and these are continued 
 through Europe in the mountains of Greece and Euro- 
 pean Turkey, the Alps, the Cevennes, and the Pyrenees. 
 The south-eastern range runs from the Pamir to the 
 China Sea in the Himaliya, and in the branches from 
 it which go down into the Malay Peninsula and Annam. 
 The eastern range goes nearly due east from the Pamir 
 to the Pacific in the Kuen-lung, and in the Pe-ling, 
 which separate the Yang-tsze from the Yellow River. 
 There is also a north-east range, which runs from the 
 Pamir to Behring's Strait, including the Tengu Tagh, 
 
220 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 and several ranges in Siberia and Kamtchatka. But the 
 Himaliya proper, with which we are concerned, may be 
 said to be enclosed by the Indus, the Brahmaputra, and 
 the great northern plain of India. That is a very simple 
 and intelligible boundary line ; for the two rivers rise 
 close together in, or in the near neighbourhood of, Lake 
 Mansorawar. In the first part of their course they flow 
 close behind the great ranges of the Himaliya, and 
 they cut through the mountains at points where 
 there is some reason for considering that new ranges 
 commence. 
 
 In adopting "The Abode of Snow" as the title of 
 this work, I only give the literal meaning of the word 
 Himaliya, which is a Sanscrit word, and is to be found 
 in most of the languages of India. It is a compound 
 word, composed of hima snow or winter, and aliya or 
 aldya, an abode or place. Its component parts are 
 thus Hima-aliya I and as the double a is contracted 
 into one, even the infant philologist of modern times will 
 perceive the erroneousness of our ordinary English way 
 of pronouncing the word as "Himalaya."* The San- 
 scrit word Jiima is also sometimes used to signify the 
 moon and a pearl ; but even thus a portion of its ori- 
 
 * We are not quite so bad as the French in this respect ; but, as a gene- 
 ral rule, the infant philologist (and all infants are in a fair way of being 
 philologists nowadays) will find it pretty safe always to reverse the accents 
 which he finds Euglislimen putting upon foreign names. Even such a 
 simple and obvious word as Bn'ndisi we must turn into Brindfsi ; and it 
 is still worse wlieii we come to give names of our own to localities. What 
 a descent from "The Abode of Snow" to "The Hills" of the Anglo- 
 Indians, even when the latter phrase may come from a rosebud mouth ! 
 But that is not so striking an example of our national taste as one which 
 has occurred in Jamaica, wliere a valley which used to be called by the 
 Spaniards the " Bocaguas," or "Mouth of the Wa.ters," has been trans- 
 muted by us into "Bog Walks." A still more curious transmutation, 
 tlioughofa reverse oider, occurred in Hong-Koiig, in the early days of 
 that so-called colony. There was a street there much frequented by sailors, 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 221 
 
 ginal meaning is denoted. No doubt this hima is closely 
 cognate with the Latin Jiiems and Jiibcrnus, for himer- 
 mus ; with the Greek ^tcoy {^e'cfxa), the Persico-Zend ;sim 
 and sz7na, and the Slavonic ^•zV??^, a word used for winter. 
 As the great Abode of the Gods is held by the Hindus 
 to be in the Himaliya, and the word Himaliya itself is 
 used by them in that sense, it is obvious that Himmel, 
 the German word for heaven, comes from the same 
 source ; and it is the only instance I know of in Euro- 
 pean languages which takes in both compounds. This 
 must surely have occurred to the lexicographers, but I 
 have not noticed any reference to it. It also occurs to 
 me that the word " Imaus," which Milton uses in the 
 third book of " Paradise Lost," and which he took from 
 Pliny, may very likely be from himas, another Sanscrit 
 form used for winter and for the Himaliya. In Hindu 
 mythology, these mountains are personified as the hus- 
 band of Manaka. He was also the father of Durga, the 
 great goddess of destruction, who became incarnate as 
 Parvati, or the " daughter of the mountain," in order to 
 captivate Siva and withdraw him from a penance which 
 he had undertaken to perform in the Himaliya. It is, 
 then, with the god of destruction, and his no less terrible 
 spouse, that the Himaliya are more specially associated, 
 rather than with the brighter form of Vishnu, the Pre- 
 server ; but the whole Hindu pantheon are also regarded 
 as dwelling among the inaccessible snowy peaks of these 
 inaccessible moimtains. Neither Cretan Ida nor Thes- 
 salian Olympus can boast of such a company ; and. 
 
 in which Chinese damsels used to sit at the windows and greet the passers- 
 by with the invitation, " Come 'long, Jack ; " consequently the street be- 
 came known by the name of the " Come 'long Street," which in the 
 Chine-e mouth was Kti?n Ltlng, or " The Golden Dragon." So, when the 
 streets were named and placarded, " Come along Street " appeared, both 
 in Chinese and English, as the Street of the Gulden Dragon. 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 looking up to the snows of the Kailas, it may well be 
 said that — 
 
 ^ '^Every legend fair, 
 
 Which the supreme Caucasian mind 
 Carved out of Nature for itself, is there." 
 
 Being a botindary wall to the Tibetan and other ele- 
 vated plains of Central Asia, the Himaliya are usually 
 steep towards the Indian side, and more gradual towards 
 the north, the strata dipping to the north-east ; but this 
 rule has many exceptions, as in the case of the Kailas 
 and the lofty mountains forming the southern boundary 
 of the Shigri valley. There the fall is as abrupt as it 
 could well be towards the north, and the 23,ooofeet 
 Akun peaks in Suru seem to stand up like needles. The 
 statement, frequently made, that there is more soil and 
 more springs on the northern than on the southern side, 
 applies specially only to that portion of the exterior 
 range which runs from the Narkanda Ghaut up to the 
 Kailas. The line of perpetual snow is very high in the 
 Himaliya, and its height detracts somewhat from their 
 grandeur in July and August, though that increases 
 their savage appearance. In the western ranges it goes 
 up so high as 18,500 on their southern, and 19,000 feet 
 on their northern faces ; but this only means that we 
 find exposed surfaces of rock at these heights, and must 
 not be taken as a literal rule. Where snow can lodge, 
 it is rare to find bare tracts above 16,000 feet at any 
 period of the year; and even in August a snowstorm 
 may cover everything down to 12.000 feet, or even 
 lower. There are great beds of snow and glaciers which 
 remain unremoved during the summer far below i8,00O 
 feet. In the Swiss Alps the line of perpetual snow is 
 8900 feet ; so there is the enormous difference on this 
 point of lo.oco feet between the two mountain ranges; 
 and so it may be conceived how intense must be the 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 
 
 223 
 
 heat in summer of the deeper valleys of the Himaliya . 
 but in winter the snow comes down in the latter moun- 
 tains to 3000 feet, or lower occasionally; so that there 
 may be a range of 26,000 feet of snow, instead of 14,000 
 as among- the Alps. 
 
 The arrest of the clouds of the Indian south-east mon- 
 soon on the outer range of the Himaliya combines, with 
 other causes, to create an extraordinary dr\-ness of atmo- 
 sphere, and this aridit}^ increases on the steppes be}'ond. 
 Hence, even when the temperature may be very low, 
 there is often very little snow to be deposited, and the 
 accumulations on the high mountains have been the 
 work of ages. It has often been observed, in polar and 
 mountainous regions, how great is the power of solar 
 rays passing through highly rarefied air; and upon the 
 great heights of the Himaliya, the effect of these rays is 
 something terrible. When they are reflected from new- 
 fallen snow, their power is so intense, that I have seen 
 them raise my thermometer (when placed at a particular 
 angle against a great sheet of sun-lit snow, and exposed 
 at the same time to the direct rays of the sun) from a 
 little above freezing-point, which was the temperature 
 of the air, to 192° Fahrenheit, or between the points at 
 which spirits boil and water boils at the level of the sea. 
 It is remarkable that in spite of this, and though snow- 
 blindness is often the result, yet no cases of sunstroke 
 appear to occur in the Himaliya, and supports the theory 
 that sunstroke partakes more of the character of heat- 
 apoplexy than of mere injury to the head in the first 
 instance. The difference of temperature between the 
 days and nights is not such as might be expected from 
 the extremely rapid radiation of heat there is at, high 
 altitudes. The change arising from that cause would be 
 almost killing were it not for the fortunate fact that the 
 atmosphere forced up by the warmth of the day descends 
 
224 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 at night, and, being condensed, gives out heat. The 
 cold of the Himaliya has been known suddenly to kill 
 people when they were exposed to sudden gusts of wind, 
 though they could safely have borne a much lower tem- 
 perature in still air. The wind is certainly the great 
 drawback both to health and comfort amon^ these c^reat 
 mountains; but, as we have seen, it has its advantage, 
 being caused by the elevation of heated air from below, 
 which afterwards descending and contracting, renders 
 the nights endurable. I understand that the monks of 
 St Bernard, who go up to that monastery at eighteen 
 years of age, vowed to remain there for fifteen years, 
 only in rare instances are able to remain so long, and 
 that does not say much for high mountain air ; but it 
 may be the seclusion of their life up there, and other 
 defects in it, which makes that life so injurious to them. 
 If any one would allow me a thousand a year on condi- 
 tion that I always keep above 12,000 feet, I should be 
 happy to make the experiment, and to write a warm 
 obituary notice of my benefactor when he dies below. 
 
 But to return to the Shigri valley : my second camp- 
 ing-place there was destitute of wood, but it was very 
 grassy and sheltered. The biganHes had the advantage 
 of an immense stone under which there were small hol- 
 lows for them to sleep in; and there was good water 
 accessible, wliich is often a difficult)^ ; because though 
 there may be " water, water everywhere" about in those 
 regions, both in a solid and a liquid shape, it does not 
 necessarily follow that it can be easily got at ; for you 
 may have to descend a precipice of a thousand feet in 
 order to get at the river, or to ascend as high to reach 
 the glacier, which ceases to give out streams towards 
 evening. At three r.M., the thermometer was so low as 
 40°, though during the day there had been a blazing 
 sun and no clouds. From this spot, on the third day, 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 225 
 
 the road was literally frightful, not so much in the sense 
 of being dangerous as exasperating. It chiefly went 
 over great stones with scarcely the affectation even of 
 a track. Sometimes it followed the bed of the Chan- 
 dra, anon ascended the steep stony or precipitous banks 
 of that river, and wound along the edge of precipices on 
 paths fit only for deer or goats. We had to ford quite 
 a number of cold streams, which did not fail to evoke 
 plaintive cries from the women, and crossed at the foot 
 of several glaciers, which did not appear to descend 
 quite to the river, but very possibly did so, because I 
 had neither time nor patience for close examination, and 
 the shattered debris I several times crossed mighf well 
 have had ice beneath. It was necessary to dismount 
 and scramble on foot every now and then ; and nine 
 continuous hours of this sort of thing were too much for 
 an invalid. The Spiti pony could be trusted almost 
 implicitly; but many of the ascents were too much for 
 it with a rider. Riding among the great stones endan- 
 gered one's knees, and, on some of the high paths, there 
 was not room for it to pass with a rider. And if the 
 pony could be trusted, not so could its saddle, which 
 very nearly brought us both to grief. We came to some 
 high steps — that is to say, large stones lying so as to 
 make natural steps, each about two and a half or three 
 feet high — leading down upon a narrow rock ledge, 
 which ran (above a precipice) slightly turned inwards 
 from the line of descent. It was madness to ride down 
 here; but I had been so worried by the fatigue of the 
 road, and by constant mounting and dismounting, that 
 I preferred doing so, and the pony quite justified my 
 confidence. But at the most critical moment, when it 
 stepped with both feet from the last stone on to the 
 ledge, when I was leaning back to the very utmost, and 
 everything was at the highest strain, then, just as its 
 
 p 
 
226 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 feet struck the rock, the crupper gave way, and the 
 saddle slipped forward on the pony's neck, throwing us 
 both off our balance. We must have both gone over 
 hundreds of feet had not a preservative instinct enabled 
 me to throw myself off the saddle upon the ledge of 
 rock. This movement, of course, was calculated to send 
 the pony outwards, and all the more surely overboard ; 
 but in falling I caught hold of its mane, pulled it down 
 on the top of me, and held it there until some of the 
 bigari'ies came to our release. A short time elapsed 
 before they did so, and the little pony seemed quite to 
 understand, and acquiesce in, the necessity of remaining 
 s:ill. I was riding alone at the time of the accident, 
 and, had we gone over, should probably not have been 
 missed at the time, or found afterwards. Nor can. I 
 exactly say that it was I myself who saved us both, be- 
 cause there was not an instant's time for thought in the 
 matter. All I know is, that it was done, and that I was 
 a good deal bruised and stiffened by the fall. I had to 
 lie down, quite exhausted and sore, whenever I reached 
 our third day's camping-ground, which was a very ex- 
 posed, dusty, and disagreeable one. 
 
 Next morning I did not start till eight, and ordered 
 all the bigarries to keep behind me, as I was afraid of 
 their pushing on to Kokser, a distance which would have 
 been too much for me. The road in many places was 
 near!}' as bad as that of the previous day, and there were 
 dangerous descents into deep ravines; but in part it 
 was very pleasant, running high above the river over 
 rounded hills covered with flowery grass. The way was 
 also enlivened by flocks of sheep, some laden with salt, 
 and by very civil shepherds from Kulu and Bussahir. 
 The usual camping-ground was occupied by large flocks, 
 and, for the sake of shelter, I had to camp close above 
 a precipice. Here I purchased from the Kulu shepherds 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 227 
 
 a wonderful young dog called Djeola, a name which, 
 with my Indian servants and the public in general, very 
 soon got corrupted into Julia. This animal did not 
 promise at first to be any acquisition. Though only 
 five or six months old, it became perfectly furious on 
 being handed over to me and tied up. I fastened it to 
 my tent-pole, the consequence of which was that it tore 
 the drill, nearly pulled the tent down, hanged itself 
 until it was insensible, and I only got sleep after some- 
 how it managed to escape. I recovered it, however, 
 next morning ; and after a few days it became quite 
 accustomed to me and affectionate. Djeola was a 
 source of constant amusement. I never knew a dog 
 in which there was so fresh a spring of strong simple 
 life. But the curious thing is, that it had all the appear- 
 ance of a Scotch collie, though considerably larger than 
 any of these animals. Take a black-and-tan collie, 
 double its size, and you have very much what "Julia" 
 became after he had been a few months in my posses- 
 sion, for when I got him he was only five or six month.s 
 old. The only differences were that the tail was thicker 
 and more bushy, the jaw more powerful, and he had 
 large dew claws upon his hind feet. Black dogs of this 
 kind are called siissa by the Tibetans, and the red 
 species, of which I had a friend at Pu, are micstang. The 
 wild dog is said to go up to the snow-line in the 
 Himaliya, and to hunt in packs ; but I never saw or 
 heard of any, and I suspect their habitat is only the 
 Indian side of the Himaliya. Such packs of dogs 
 undoubtedly exist on the Western Ghauts of India, 
 and they are not afraid of attacking the tiger, over- 
 coming it piecemeal, while the enraged lord of the 
 forest can only destroy a small number of his assail- 
 ants; but very little is really known about them. An 
 interesting field for the zoologist is still open in an 
 
228 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 examination of the vvild dog of Western India, the wild 
 ass, yak, and horse of Tibet, and the wild camel, which 
 is rumoured still to exist in the forests to the east 
 of Yarkund, I mentioned this latter animal to Dr 
 Stolicska, who had not heard of it, and thought that 
 such camels would be only specimens of the domestic 
 species which had got loose and established themselves, 
 with their progeny, in the wilderness ;" but the subject is 
 worthy of investigation from a scientific point of view ; 
 and perhaps the Yarkund Mission may have brought 
 back some information in regard to it. 
 
 But though Djeola was most savage on being tied 
 up and transferred to a new owner, there was nothing 
 essentially savage, rude, brutish, or currish in its nature. 
 Indeed it very soon reminded me of the admirable words 
 of one of the most charming of English writers upon 
 dogs : " Take an example of a Dog}-, and mark what 
 generosity and courage he will put on when he is main- 
 tained by a man who to him is instead of a god or 
 Melior Natura." It not only became reconciled to 'me, 
 but watched over me with an almost'Tudicrous fidelity, 
 and never got entirely reconciled even to my servants. 
 The striking my tent in the morning was an interference 
 with its private property to which it strongly objected, 
 and if not kept away at that time, it would attack the 
 bigarries engaged. I also found, on getting to Kashmir, 
 that it regarded all Sahibs as suspicious characters, to 
 be laid hold of at once ; but, fortunately, it had a way 
 of seizing them without doing much damage, as it would 
 hold a sheep, and the men it did seize were good-natured 
 sportsmen. It delighted in finding any boy among our 
 bigarries that it could tyrannise over, but never really 
 hurt him. It was very fond of biting the heels of yaks 
 and horses, and then thinking itself ill-treated when 
 they kicked. Its relations with Nako were also amus- 
 
SHIGRI AND ITS GLACIERS. 229 
 
 ing. That old warrior had no jealousy of Djeola, and 
 treated it usually with silent contempt, unless it drew 
 near when he was feeding — a piece of temerity which 
 the young dog soon learned the danger of. But Djeola 
 would sometimes indulge in gamesome and affection- 
 ate fits towards Nako, which the latter never invited, 
 and barely tolerated, and which usually resulted in a 
 short and sharp fight, in which Djeola got speedily 
 vanquished, but took its punishment as a matter of 
 course, and without either fear or anger. I had 
 intended this Himdliyan giant sheep-dog for the 
 admirable writer and genial sage, Dr John Brown, 
 who has given us " Rab and his Friends," who. 
 would have been able to do justice to its merits, 
 and compare it with the sheep-dogs of Scotland, 
 but could not arrange that conveniently, and left it 
 with a friend at Puna. 
 
 When in the Shigri valley, I kept a watch for any 
 symptoms of gold, but did not notice any, and on 
 other grounds should not think it likely that gold 
 exists there in any quantity. But Mr Theodor, a 
 German employed in carrying out the construction 
 of the road over the Barra Lacha Pass, told me that 
 he had found silver ore in this valley, I may men- 
 tion that the first great glacier which I crossed has 
 pushed its way into the Chandra, and threatens to 
 close up that river in a very serious manner, as it 
 once did before, which might lead to disasters in the 
 valleys of the Chandra- Bhaga and of the Chenab, 
 similar to those which occurred in the Drance and 
 Upper Rhone valleys of Switzerland in 1595 and 
 1 8 19. 
 
CHAPTER VIL 
 
 ZANSKAK, 
 
 I SHALL touchvery briefly indeed upon Lahaul, in order 
 to pass almost at once into the more secluded and inte- 
 resting province which affords the subject and the title 
 of this chapter. Lahaul is pretty well known, being 
 traversed every year 'SSy Himaliyan tourists on their way 
 to Ladak. If we were to take it for a Hindusthani 
 word (a subject on which I have no information), the 
 proper translation of it would be "a howling wilder- 
 ness ;" and that is exactly what Lahaul is in one respect 
 important for travellers. As compared with other parts 
 of the Himaliya, it is far from being a howling wilder- 
 ness in any physical sense of these words, because it is 
 comparatively rich in trees and fields, and among the 
 inner Himaliya the valleys are much more open than in 
 the outer, where it is too often impossible to see the 
 mountains because of the mountains. After the scenery 
 around, there is a delightful sense of relief in entering its 
 more open valle3's and getting pretty full views of the 
 great snowy ranges ; there is also comfort in travelling 
 along a cut road, however narrow it may be : but these 
 / advantages are counterbalanced by the disposition of 
 ' the Lahaulese towards travellers, which is so bad that 
 the tourist requires to be forewarned of it. There is, 
 however, a great set-off to that in the presence of the 
 Moravian missionaries, who at Kaelang have created an 
 oasis amidst the squalor and wildness of this Himdlij^an 
 province, and have done as much for its improvement as 
 
ZANSKAR. 
 
 the difficult circumstances of their position would allow. 
 A Yarkund merchant had complained bitterly to me of 
 the exactions and other annoyances which he was ex- 
 periencing in Lahaul; and this, conjoined with my own 
 experience — which I found afterwards to be in accord- 
 ance with that of other English travellers, some of high 
 official position — induced me to inquire of the Moravians 
 the cause of such a state of matters, which presents a 
 serious obstacle to the development of trade between 
 Yarkund and British India. One reason they assigned 
 was, that the people of Lahaul were irritated at the 
 making of the cut road, which allowed ponies and mules 
 to traverse their province, and so deprived them, not 
 merely of their rights of porterage, but also of certain 
 vested rights of pilfering from packages, which they 
 valued much more. Another reason assigned was the 
 hostility of the Tscho, or larger zemindars ; but I 
 believe the difficulty is intimately connected with the 
 general position assumed by the British Government. 
 It has been so successfully instilled into the minds of 
 the people by the Tscho that the British rule will come 
 to an end, that wliea the^ Moravians purchased some 
 land at Kaelang a {^"^ years ago, the}^ could only obtain 
 it on the condition being formally inserted in the title- 
 deed, that it should revert to the original owners when- 
 ever British rule came to an end in Lahaul. A fact like 
 this hardly requires comment, and I may leave it to 
 speak for itself I shall only mention further, in general 
 connection with this province, that at Gandla, and still 
 better, about half-way on the road to it from Sisu, mag- 
 nificent avalanches of snow may be both heard and seen. 
 On the opposite side of the Chandra river there rises, to 
 the height of 20,356 feet, the extremely precipitous peak 
 M of the Trigonometrical Survey ; and from the great 
 beds of snow upon it, high above us, avalanches were 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW, 
 
 falling every five minutes, before and after mid-day, on 
 to two long glaciers winch extended almost down to the 
 river. As the bed of the Chandra is here under io,ooc? 
 feet, the highest peak must have risen up almost sheer 
 more than 10,000 feet, in tremendous precipices, hanging 
 glaciers, and steep beds and walls of snow ; though on 
 its north-western shoulder the ascent was more gradual, 
 and was covered by scattered pines. Immediately in 
 front the slope was terrific ; and, every few minutes, an 
 enormous mass of snow gave way, and fell, flashi-ng in 
 the sunlight, on steep rocks. A great crash was heard 
 as these masses struck the rocks, and a continuous roar 
 as they poured downwards, until they broke over a preci- 
 pice above the glaciers, and then fell with a resemblance 
 to great cataracts of white foaming water, and sending 
 up clouds of snow-spray as they struck the ice. The 
 volume of one of these avalanches must, so long as it 
 lasts, be greater than that of any known cataract, though 
 they descend thousands of feet, and their final thun- 
 dering concussion is as the noise of many waters in the 
 solitudes around. " They, too, have a voice, yon piles of 
 snow;" and truly these are — 
 
 " Sky-pointing peaks, 
 Oft from whose feet the mighty avalanche 
 Shoots downward, glittering througli the pure serene." 
 
 From the junction of the Chandra and Bhaga rivers 
 the pilgrim has the choice of several routes to Kashmir, 
 but they are all of such a character that even Hopeful 
 might be excused for contemplating them with some 
 dismay. The easiest, undoubtedly, is that by Leh ; but 
 it is much the longest and dreariest, involving thirty- 
 seven marches to Srinagar, and an 18,000-feet pass, 
 besides several more of lesser height. A shorter, and, on 
 the whole, a much easier road, goes by way of Chamba 
 
ZANSKAR. 
 
 and Badrawar ; but the difficulty is how to get into 
 it, because (not to speak of a jln'da over the Chandra, 
 which beats all the bridges I ever saw, and the mere 
 sight of which makes the blood run cold) the best way 
 into it is across the fearful Barra Bhagal Pass, over 
 which beasts of burden cannot cross, and where there is 
 a dangerous arret, which can only be passed with the 
 aid of ropes. The usual route taken is that in twenty- 
 seven marches, down the Chandra-Bhaga river to Kisht- 
 war. But though that route has been improved of late 
 years, there is one part of it which is impassable for 
 mountain ponies, and it involves a descent to 5000 feet 
 down a close warm valley. So I set to inquire whether 
 my old idea of following the lie of the Mimalij'a, and 
 always in its loftier valleys, could not be carried out 
 on this part of my journey ; and was delighted to hear 
 from Mr Heyde, the accomplished head of the Moravian 
 Mjssiottp-that it was quife pas'sable ; that^he himself had 
 traversed about the first half of the way, and that it 
 led through Zanskar, a country of the very existence of 
 which I was then as ignorant as my readers probably 
 are now. Mr^Heyde was quite enthusiastic in praise of 
 this route, and he even spoke of its leading over flowery 
 inaidans or plains. I am bound to say, however, for the 
 benefit of future travellers, that this was a delusion and 
 a snare. Men who have lived for many years among the 
 Himaliya come to have very peculiar ideas as to what 
 constitutes a inaidan or plain. There were no diffi- 
 culties on this route ? I inquired. Oh, there were none 
 to speak of, except the Shinkal Pass, which led over into 
 Zanskar. It was of unknown height; it required four 
 days to cross it ; there were no villages or houses on the 
 way, and the top of it was an immense glacier. He (Mr 
 Heyde) had once crossed it in company with Brother. 
 Pagell, and Brother Pagell had fainted whenever they 
 
234 THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 got ofif the glacier. But there had been snow on the 
 ground, which was very fatiguing ; and at the end of the 
 fourth day I would descend upon Kharjak, the first village 
 in Zanskar, which I would find to be a nice hospitable 
 place, about 14,000 feet high. Were there otlier passes .-' 
 Well, there was the Pense-fa Pass, but that was nothing. 
 A flowery maidan led up to it (my experience was that 
 a glacier and six feet deep of snow led up to the top of 
 it) ; but he did not know farther, and there might be 
 places a little difficult to get over between Suru and 
 Kashmir. I mention this to show how regular Hima- 
 liyans look upon such matters ; for Mr Heyde was 
 careful to warn me about the lateness of the season, to 
 inquire into the state of my lungs and throat, and to 
 give me all the information and assistance he could. It 
 took me exactly twenty-eight marches and thirty-one 
 days to reach Srinagar from Kaelang by this route, and 
 it could not well be done in less ; but my difficulties 
 were much increased by a great snowstorm which swept 
 over the Himalij'a in the middle of September, and 
 which need not be counted on so early in the season. 
 
 The selection of this route nearly caused a mutiny 
 among my servants, who had been promising themselves 
 the warm valley of the Chandra-Bhaga. So unknown a 
 country as Zanskar frightened them, and Silas unfor- 
 tunatel}' heard of Mr Pagell's fainting fit, which almost 
 made the e\'es start out of his own head, since he knew 
 that gentleman's endurance as a mountaineer. The only 
 doubt I had was about the weather, which began to look 
 tlireatening ; but I finally resolved on this interesting 
 route, and found good cause to congratulate myself on 
 having done so. 
 
 On the 3d September I took farewell of Brothers 
 Heyde and Redslob, the Moravian missionaries, of their 
 kind ladies, and of Mr Thcodor, who was suffering in- 
 
ZANSKAR. 235 
 
 tensely from the exposure he had incurred in constructing 
 the road to Leh over the Barra Lacha. It was cold and 
 gloomy the day I left Kaelang. The clouds that hung- 
 about the high mountains added to the impressiveness 
 of the scene. Through their movements an icy peak 
 would suddenly be revealed for a few moments ; then a 
 rounded snowdome would appear, to be followed by 
 some huge glacier, looking through the clouds as if it 
 were suspended in the gloomy air. For two days we pur- 
 sued the road to Leh — namely, to the village of Darchaf 
 from which the path over the great Shinkal Pass into 
 Zanskar diverges to the left, or north-west, up the valley 
 of the Kado Tokpho river. This was the last human 
 habitation before reaching Kharjak, four days' journey 
 off; and though the most of my coolies had, by Mr 
 Heyde's advice, been engaged at Kaelang to take me as 
 far as Kharjak, their number had to be supplemented 
 at Darcha. To secure that, a representative of British 
 authority, a policeman. so called, had been sent with me 
 to Darcha ; but the policeman soon came back to my 
 tent in a bruised and bleeding condition, complaining 
 that the people of the village had given him a beating 
 for his interference ; and the men who did engage to go, 
 tried to run away when we were well up the desolate 
 pass, and gave me other serious trouble. The first day 
 of our ascent was certainly far from agreeable. The 
 route — for it would be absurd to speak of a path — ran 
 up the left bank of the Kado Tokpho, and crossed some 
 aggravating stone avalanches. My dandy could not be 
 used at all, and I had often to dismount from the large 
 pony I had got at Kaelang, Our first camping-ground 
 was called Dakmachen, and seemed to be used for that 
 purpose, but had no good water near. On great part of 
 the next day's journey, granite avalanches were also a 
 prominent and disgusting feature. Indeed, there are so 
 
236 THE ABODE OF SNOW, 
 
 many of them in the Kado Tokpho valley, and they 
 are so difficult and painful to cross, that I was almost 
 tempted to wish that one would come down in my pre- 
 sence, and let me see what it could do. They were very 
 like Himaliyan glaciers, but had no ice beneath ; and an 
 appalling- amount of immense peaks must have falle'n 
 down into this hideous valley. An enterprising dhirzie 
 or tailor, well acquainted with the route, was our guide, 
 and the owner of my pony, and I could not help asking him 
 if this were one of the maidans of which Mr Heyde had 
 spoken ; but he said we should meet one presently, and 
 found one wherever there was a narrow strip, of grassy 
 land. At one place we had to work up the side of a sort 
 of precipice, and met coming down there a naked Hindu 
 Bawa, or religious devotee, who was crossing from 
 Zanskar to Lahaul, accompanied by one attendant, and 
 with nothing but his loin-cloth, a brass drinking-pot, and 
 a little parched grain. He was a young man, and 
 appeared strong and well-nourished. It was passing 
 strange to find one of these ascetics in the heart of the 
 Himaliya, far from the habitations of men ; and when I 
 went on without giving him anything, he deliberately- 
 cursed both my pony and myself, and prophesied our 
 speedy destruction, until I told him that I had slept at 
 the foot of the Dread Mother, which seemed to pacify 
 him' a little.* 
 
 The first day and a half were the worst part of this 
 journey over the Shinkal Pass. Its features changed 
 greatly after we reached the point where the Kado 
 Tokpho divides into two branches, forded the stream to 
 
 * Kalika, the most inaccessible pealc of tlie holy mountain Girnar, in 
 Kathiawar. It is consecrated to Kali, or Dvirga, the goddess of destruc- 
 tion ; is frequented by Aghoras — devotees who shun all society, and are 
 said to eat carrion and human flesh. '1 he general belief is, tliat of every 
 two people who visit Kalika, only one comes back. 
 
ZANSKAR. 237 
 
 the right, and made a very steep ascent of about 1500 
 feet. Above that we passed into an elevated picturesque 
 valley, with a good deal of grass and a i^w birch bushes, 
 which leads all the way up to the glacier that covers th^ 
 summit of the pass. The usual camping-ground in this 
 valley is called Ramjakpuk, and that place is well pro- 
 tected from the wind ; but there are bushes to serve as 
 fuel where we pitched our tents a mile or two below, at 
 a height of about 15,000 feet. Towards evening there 
 was rain and a piercing cold wind, with the thermometer 
 at 36° Fahr., and many were the surmises as to whether 
 we might not be overtaken by a snowstorm on the higher 
 portion of the pass next day. 
 
 In the morning the thermometer Avas exactly at 
 freezing-point, the grass was white with hoar-frost, and 
 there was plenty of ice over the streams as we advanced 
 upwards. For some way the path was easy ; then there 
 was a long steep ascent, and after that we came on the 
 enormous glacier which is the crest of this awful pass. 
 The passage on to the glacier from solid ground was 
 almost iniperceptible, over immense ridges of blocks of 
 granite and slabs of slate. Some of these first ridges 
 rested on the glacier, while others had been thrown up 
 by it on the rocky mountain-side ; but soon the greater 
 ridges were left behind, and we were fairly on the glacier, 
 where there were innumerable narrow crevasses, many 
 of them concealed by white honeycombed ice, numerous 
 blocks of stone standing on pillars of ice, and not a few 
 rills, and even large brooks, the sun having been shining 
 powerfully in the morning. It was not properly an ice- 
 stream, but an immense glacial lake, on which we stood ;• 
 for it was verj^ nearly circular ; it was fed by glaciers 
 ^and snow-slopes all round, and it lapped over into the 
 villages beneath in several different directions. I was 
 prevented by an incident, to be mentioned presently, 
 
238 . THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 from calculating the height of this pass, and the Trigono- 
 metrical Survey does not appear to have done so ; but 
 as Kharjak, the first village in Zanskar, is 13,670 feet, 
 and it took me the greater part of next day to get 
 down to Kharjak, though I camped this day at least 
 15CO feet below the summit of the pass, on the Zanskar 
 side, I conclude that the Shinkal cannot be less than 
 l8,oco feet high, and that it may possibly be more. It 
 •must be distinguished from another and neighbouring 
 pass, also called the Shinkal, which is to be found in 
 the Topographical Sheet, No. 46, and which runs from 
 Burdun Gonpa apparently nowhere except into a region 
 of glaciers. As the word Shinkal thus occurs twice on 
 the frontier of Zanskar, it is probably a local word either 
 for a pass or a glacier. Of course the difficulty of 
 breathing at this height was very great ; some of my 
 people were bleeding at the nose, and it would have been 
 hardly possible for us to ascend much higher. Hum- 
 boldt got up on the Andes to 21,000 feet, and the 
 Schlagentweits in the Himaliya to 22,000 ; but such 
 feats can only be accomplished in very exceptional states 
 of the atmosphere. Higher ascents have been made in 
 balloons, but there no exertion is required. In ordinary 
 circumstances, 18,000 feet, or nearly 3000 feet higher 
 than the summit of Mont Blanc, is about the limit of 
 human endurance when any exertion is required ; and 
 on the Shinkal I had the ad\-antage of a strong saga- 
 cious pon\', which carried me over most of the glacier 
 easily enough ; but I had a good deal of work on foot, 
 and suffered much more from the exertions I had to 
 make than any one else. 
 
 On reaching the middle of this glacial lake, it became 
 quite apparent where its sea of ice came from. On 
 every side were steep slopes of snow or nevd, with im- 
 mense beds of snow overhanfrincr them. It v>'as more 
 
ZANSKAR. 239 
 
 like a Place de la Concorde than the basin of the 
 Aletsch glacier in Switzerland ; and the surrounding 
 masses of neve rose up in a much more abrupt and 
 imposing manner than the surroundings of anj^ scene 
 amid the High Alps. On the right, the snow-slopes 
 were especially striking, being both beautiful and grand. 
 A dazzling sheet of unbroken white snow rose up for 
 more than a thousand feet, on a most steep incline, to 
 vast overhanging walls of what I may call stratified niv^, 
 from which huge masses came down, every now and 
 then, with a loud but plangent sound. So all around 
 there were great ridges, fields, domes, walls, and pre- 
 cipices of snow and ice. No scene could rive a more 
 impressive idea of Eternal Winter, or cf the mingled 
 beauty and savagery of high Alpine life. Even Phooley- 
 ram, my Kunawar Munshi, was struck by it. Up to 
 this point I was not aware that he knew any English, 
 and had not heard him speak in any language for days, 
 he being rather sulky at having to walk for the most 
 part; but on this occasion he suddenly turned round 
 to me, and, to my intense surprise, said in English, "I 
 think this must be the region of perpetual snow." That 
 was doubtless a reminiscence of old book-knowledge of 
 English which had almost passed from his mind, but 
 was recalled by the extraordinary scene around, and it 
 came in quite ingenuously and very appropriately. 
 
 My attention, however, was soon recalled to a more 
 practical matter. Knowing the danger of crossing a 
 glacier at this height, and in the threatening weather 
 which had been gathering for several days, I had given 
 strict orders that all the bigarries, or porters, should 
 keep together and beside me ; but, on the very summit 
 of the pass, in the middle of the glacial lake, I found 
 that three of them were missing, and that they were the 
 three who were the most lightly laden, and who carried 
 
240 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 my most important effects — namely, my tent-poles, my 
 bedding, and the portmanteau which contained my 
 money. The tent-poles might have been dispensed 
 with ; but still the want of them would have caused 
 great inconvenience in an almost treeless region, where 
 thev could not have been replaced. I could only have 
 supplied the want of the bedding by purchasing sheep- 
 skins, furs, or blankets alive with body-lice ; and the 
 loss of the rupees would have been worse than either. 
 I have no doubt this was a planned arrangement, who- 
 ever planned it; for the bigavTies who carried these 
 lio-ht burdens were strong men, and the obvious motive 
 was that I should be compelled to turn back from 
 Zanskar and take the Chandra-Bhaga route. On dis- 
 covering this state of matters I was excessively angry, 
 not so much because of the attempt to force my steps, 
 as on account of the danger in which some ignorant 
 fools had placed us all. Though the morning had been 
 fine, bad weather had been gathering for several days ; 
 the sky was now obscured ; clouds were rolling close 
 round, and to have been overtaken by a snowstorm on 
 that glacier would have been almost certain death to 
 us all. So long as the sky was clear, and we had the 
 snow-walls to guide us, it was eas}' enough to cross it ; 
 but where would we have been in a blinding snow- 
 storm on a glacier at least 1 8,000 feet high, with no 
 central moraine, and lapping over on half a dozen 
 different sides .'* Moreover, the snow would cover the 
 rotten honeycombed ice which bridged over innumer- 
 able crevasses. All the people about me, except, per- 
 haps, the dhirsie, were quite ignorant of the danger we 
 were in, and that exasperated me more at this tricky 
 interference. As I was determined not to turn on my 
 steps, I saw that not a moment was to be lost in taking 
 decided measures ; so I made my servants and the 
 
ZANSKAR. 241 
 
 higarrics continue across the glacier, with instructions 
 to camp at the first available spot on the Zanskar side, 
 and threatened them if they delayed, while I myself 
 rode back, accompanied by one man, in search of the 
 missing coolies and their loads. There was an obvious 
 danger in this, because it involved the risk of being cut 
 off from my people and baggage ; but it was really the 
 only thing to be done in the circumstances consonant 
 with a determination to proceed. So I waited until 
 my party disappeared on the brow of the glacier, and 
 then rode back in a savage and reckless humour over 
 ice which I had previously crossed in a very cautious 
 manner. I could easily retrace our track until we got 
 to the great stony ridges, and then the man I had taken 
 with me was useful. On getting off there, and descend- 
 ing the valley a short way, I found my three light-laden 
 gentlemen quietly reposing, and immediately forced 
 them to resume their burdens, and go on before me. 
 Even then they showed some unwillingness to proceed ; 
 and I had to act the part of the Wild Horseman of the 
 Glacier, driving them before me, and progging whoever 
 happened to be hindmost with the iron spike of my 
 heavy alpenstock, which considerably accelerated their 
 movements. There was the most urgent reason for 
 this, because, had we been half an hour later in getting 
 over the summit of the pass, the probability is that we 
 should have been lost. It began to snow before we g-ot 
 off the glacier ; and when we descended a few hundred 
 feet, it was snowing so heavily on the ice-lake we had 
 just left, that we could not there have seen two yards 
 before our faces, and it would have been quite impos- 
 sible to know in which direction to turn, the tracks of 
 our party being obliterated, and the crevasses, which 
 ran in every direction, affording no guidance. Even on 
 the narrow glaciers of the Alps a number of people have 
 
 Q 
 
■242 THE ABODE OF SNO IV. 
 
 been lost by being caught in snowstorms ; so it can be 
 imagined what chance there would hav^e been for us 
 on a great lake of ice above 1 8,000 feet high. Without 
 the tracks and a sight of the surrounding snow-walls to 
 guide us, we could only have wandered about hopelessly 
 in the blinding storm ; and if we did not fall into a 
 crevasse, through rotten ice concealed by the new-fallen 
 snow, we might have wandered on to one of the outlets 
 where the ice flowed over in steep hanging glaciers, 
 which it would have been impossible to descend. For- 
 tunately, however, we managed to keep the proper track 
 in spite of the snow which was beginning to blind us. 
 On reaching our camp, I found it pitched on a morass 
 about 1500. or 2000 feet below the summit of the pass. 
 The .thermometer was two degrees below freezing-point, 
 and a little snow continued to fall about us. I felt ex- 
 tremely exhausted after the exertion and excitement of 
 the day ; but some warm soup and the glow of a fire of 
 birch branches revived me, and I soon fell into a deep 
 refreshing sleep. 
 
 A little after midnight I was awakened by the intense 
 cold, and went out of my tent, and a little way up the 
 pass, to look upon the scene around. Everything was 
 frozen up and silent. The pools of water about us had 
 ice an inch thick ; my servants were in their closed ra?iii, 
 and the bigarrics were sleeping, having, for protection 
 from the cold, twisted themselves into a circle round the 
 embers of their dying fire. There was the awful silence 
 of the high mountains when the snow and ice cease to 
 creep under the influence of the sunbeams. The storm 
 had ceased^ — 
 
 " The mute still air 
 Was Music slumbering on her instrument ; " 
 
 the snow-clouds also had entirely passed away. The 
 moon, which w^s little past its full, cast a brilliant radi- 
 
ZANSKAR. 243 
 
 ance on the savage scene around, so that every precipice, 
 snow-wall, and icy peak was visible in marvellous dis- 
 tinctness ; and in its keen light the great glaciers shone 
 gloriously : but, brilliant as the moon was, its light was 
 insufficient to obscure the stars, which, at this altitude, 
 literally flamed above, displaying — - 
 
 " All the dread magnificence of heaven." 
 
 At night, amid these vast mountains, surrounded by 
 icy peaks, shining starlike and innumerable as the hosts 
 of heaven, and looking up to the great orbs flaming in 
 the unfathomable abysses of space, one realises the im- 
 mensity of physical existence in an overpowering and 
 almost painful manner. What am I ? what are all these 
 Tibetans and Paharries compared with the long line of 
 gigantic mountains ? and what the mountains and the 
 whole solar system as compared with any group of the 
 great fixed stars ? But this whole stellar universe which 
 we see around us distinctly, extending beyond the limits 
 of human conception — sparkling with stars on which the 
 earth would be no more than a grain of sand is upon 
 the earth, and including the undistinguished orb., which 
 afford the light of the Milky Way — would be no more 
 to our vision, if beheld from one of those dim nebula 
 rings, composed of more distant stars, than the wreath of 
 smoke blown from a cannon's mouth. Though the facts 
 have long been known, modern thought appears to be 
 only now realising the power and boundless extent of 
 the physical universe ; for the phenomenon of conversion, 
 or the effective realisation of admitted truth, is by no 
 means confined to purely religious circles, but is a pro- 
 cess which extends over the whole range of human know- 
 ledge. It is no wonder that such a realisation should 
 engross the thoughts of many minds, and appear almost 
 as a new revelation. But, accustomed as I was to the 
 
244 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 questions which thus arise, a strange feeling came over 
 me amid those snowy peaks and starlit spaces. How 
 wonderful the order and perfection of the inorganic uni- 
 verse as compared with the misery and confusion of the 
 organic ! Oxygen does not lie to hydrogen ; the white 
 clouds pass gently into exquisitely-shaped flowers of 
 snow; the blue ocean laughs unwounded round our star, 
 and is gently drawn up to form the gorgeous veil of 
 blue air and many-tinted cloud which makes the rugged 
 earth beautiful. With perfectly graduated power, the 
 sun holds the planets in their course, and, to the utmost 
 range of mortal ken, the universe is filled with glorious 
 orbs. But when we turn to the organic life around us, 
 how strange the contrast, and especially as regards its 
 higher manifestations ! A few individuals in every age, 
 but especially at present, when they benefit by the ex- 
 ceptional standing-ground which such discoveries as that 
 of the use of steam has given to the people of this cen- 
 tur}', may, arguing from their own experience, imagine 
 that this is a satisfactory and happy world ; but, un- 
 fortunately, it is only a select few who console them- 
 selves with that illusion. Not in selfishness nor in anger, 
 but in sad necessity, in' every age and clime, the voice of 
 humanity has risen in wondering sorrow and question- 
 ing to the silent heaven, and a different tone is adopted 
 chiefly by those who are tossed up for a moment on the 
 Avave into the sunlight. I need only refer to what the 
 history of the animal creation (and more especially the 
 human part of it) has been, and to the part which even 
 its better tendencies play in augmenting the sum of 
 wretchedness. The Hurdwar tigress, which held a boy 
 down in her den, though his shrieks rang from the 
 rocks around, while her cubs played with him, was gra- 
 tifying a holy maternal instinct ; and the vivisectors of 
 Europe are only slaking the sacred thirst for knowledge. 
 
ZANSKAR. 2 AS 
 
 Dr Livingstone wrote in one of his last journals, after 
 witnessing a massacre of inoffending villagers — men, 
 women, and children — on the shore of Lake Tanganyika : 
 " No one will ever know the exact loss on this briorht 
 sultry, summer morning ; it gave me the impression of 
 being in hell ;" but still 
 
 " The heavens keep up their terrible composure." 
 
 The scene to which he referred was far from being an 
 abnormal one on the African continent, or different from 
 its ordinary experience for countless generations ; and 
 when he referred to the locality in which such scenes 
 are supposed to be natural, perhaps the great African 
 traveller hit the mark nearer than he was himself aware 
 of, though that would not prove that there may not be 
 a worse place below. I merely give one or two illustra- 
 tions, and do not attempt a proof which would require 
 one to go over the history of the human race and of the 
 brute creation, which has been conjoined with it by the 
 common bond of misery. I need scarcely say, also,' that 
 the view of organic life which I have thus mildly indi- 
 cated is the same as that of all the great thinkers of the 
 earth, and of all our great systems of religion. The an- 
 cient Hindu sages soon perceived and expressly taught 
 that our life was utterly undesirable. It was his pro- 
 found sense of the misery and worthlessness of life 
 which drove Gautama Budha from his throne into the 
 jungle, which underlies all the meaning of the religion 
 which he founded, and which finds forcible expression in 
 the Biidhist hymn, " All is transitory, all is misery, all is 
 void, all is without substance." And the cardinal doc- 
 trine of Christianity has the same meaning, though it is 
 often verbally accepted without being realised. Accept- 
 ing it, I cannot conceal from myself its true signification. 
 That awful meaning plainly is, that the only way in 
 
246 THE ABODE OF SNOW, 
 
 which the Creator of the human race could redeem it, 
 or perhaps only a portion of it, from utter perdition, was 
 by identifying Himself with it, and bearing- an infinite 
 burden of sin and agony. Shirk the thought as we may, 
 it cannot be denied that this is the real meaning of the 
 Christian religion, and it finds innumerable corrobora- 
 tions from every side of our knowledge. The burden is 
 shifted, but has to be borne. Human existence is re- 
 deemed and rendered tolerable, not from any efforts 
 made out of its own great misery and despair, but from 
 its Creator taking upon Himself the punishment and the 
 agony which pursues His creation. Far be it from me 
 to complain of the Providence which enabled me to pass 
 through those tremendous scenes in safety, or to arraign 
 the wisdom of the arrangements of the universe. I only 
 suggest that existence in itself implies effort, pain, and 
 sorrow ; and that the more perfect it is,' the more does 
 it suffer. This may be a Budhistic idea ; but, as pointed 
 out above, it is certainly a Christian doctrine, though 
 the true meaning of it seems scarcely to have been 
 understood. Of His own will. Deity is involved in the 
 suffering of His creation, so that we cannot say where 
 the agony ends. Our notions on this subject are con- 
 fused by starting from the supposition that there is an 
 effortless existence of pure unshadowed enjoyment for 
 which no price has been paid ; and the more we realise 
 the actual state of the case, though doing so may have 
 a saddening effect, yet it will not necessarily lead us to 
 doubt that existence vindicates itself, much less to 
 arraign Eternal Providence, or the ways of God towards 
 man. 
 
 Thoughts of this character, however true they might be 
 in themselves, were not fitted to give a cheerful aspect 
 to that midnight scene on the Shinkal Pass. The 
 " Zartusht Namah " says that when Zoroaster lay one 
 
ZANSKAR. 
 
 247 
 
 cold night under the stars, "understanding was the com- 
 panion of his soul." I hope he found understanding to 
 be a more agreeable companion than I did ; for there 
 are moments of depression when we seem to feel still in 
 need of some explanation why organic life should exist 
 
 at all. 
 
 "A life 
 
 With large results so little rife, 
 Though bearable, seems hardly worth 
 This pomp of worlds, this pain of birth." 
 
 Our civilisations reach a certain point, and then die 
 corruptly, leaving half savage races, inspired by coarse 
 illusions, to reoccupy the ground and react the same 
 terrible drama. Wordsworth put the usual answer 
 admirably when he said — 
 
 •' O Life ! without thy checkered scene 
 Of right and wrong, of weal and woe, 
 Success and failure, could a ground 
 For magnanimity be found, 
 For faith, 'mid ruined hopes serene ? 
 Or whence could virtue flow ? " 
 
 But the difficulty of this argument, so far as our know- 
 ledge goes, appears to be the enormous waste and use- 
 less, endless cruelty of Nature, as also in the purely fan- 
 ciful ground of the suppositions which have been brought 
 to explain that cruelty, and which, even if admitted, 
 do not really solve the mystery. Nor is there much 
 consolation to be found in the views of the monadic 
 school, which have been so forcibly expressed by Goethe 
 in his poem Das Gottliche, which I may here translate, 
 as it was in my mind on the Shinkal Pass : — 
 
 Noble be Man, 
 
 Helpful and good ; 
 
 For this alone separateth him 
 
 From every being 
 
 "We do know of. 
 
 Hail to the unfathomed 
 Highest Being 
 Whom we follow ! 
 May He, too, teach us 
 All believine. 
 
248 
 
 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 Ever Nature 
 
 Is unfeeling : 
 
 She lighteth tlie sun 
 
 Over evil and good ; 
 
 And for the destroyer 
 
 Shine, as o'er the best, 
 
 The moon and the stars. 
 
 Stoi-ms and rivers, 
 Thunder and hail 
 Pursue their path, 
 Ever hasting, 
 Downward breaking 
 On the sons of men. 
 
 Also Fortune, 
 Wand'ring along, 
 Seizes the locks 
 Of the innocent child, 
 And empties her horn 
 Over the guilty. 
 
 For all of us must, 
 After eternal 
 Laws of iron, 
 Fulfil our being. 
 
 Mai) alone has power 
 To grasp the Impossible. 
 He separateth, 
 Chooseth and judgeth 
 And lighteth the evils 
 The hour has brought forth. 
 
 He alone dare 
 Reward the righteous, 
 The evil punish, 
 Purify, and save j 
 And usefully govern 
 Doubting and error. 
 
 And ever we honour 
 Him whom we image, 
 In honouring men 
 Immortal in deeds 
 Over great and small,* 
 
 Let the noble man 
 Be helpful and good ; 
 Unwearied, let him shape 
 The useful and right, 
 Be to us an image 
 Of the Eternal. 
 
 This is well in its way; but when we consider what 
 humanity has been able to accomplish in imaging the 
 divine, it would seem as if a voice had said to us, as 
 to the Prometheus of ^schylus, " Evermore shall the 
 burden of the agony of the present evil wear thee down ; 
 for he that shall deliver thee exists not in nature." 
 There is some refuge, however, for the spirit in the order 
 and beauty of this unfeeling inorganic nature. The 
 Yliastron, or materia prima, has strange attractions of 
 its own. So orthodox a thinker as John Foster could 
 write — " There is through all nature some mysterious 
 element like soul which comes with a deep significance 
 to mingle itself with our own conscious being, . . . con- 
 
 This stanza difTcrs somewhat from the original. 
 
ZANSKAR. 249 
 
 veying into the mind trains and masses of ideas of an 
 order not to be gained in the schools." Speaking of 
 a departed friend and brilliant poet, Goethe said — "I 
 should not be surprised if, thousands of years hence, I 
 were to meet Wieland as the monad of a world — as a 
 star of the first magnitude. . . . We can admit of no 
 other destination for monads than as blessed co-operating 
 powers sharing eternally in the immortal joys of gods." 
 In like manner, when the most purely poetical genius of 
 England foresaw his own passage from this troubled life, 
 it was as a star that the soul of Adonais beaconed from 
 the abodes of the Eternal ; and in describing the gain of 
 his brother-poet, he could only break forth — 
 
 *' It was for thee yon kingless sphere has long 
 Swung blhid, in nnascended majesty, 
 Silent, alone amid a heaven of song." 
 
 These may be something more than poets' dreams, 
 but "the immortal mind craves objects that endure," 
 and such are scarcely to be found in lower forms of life, 
 or in the inorganic world, for even — 
 
 '* The lily fair a transient beauty wears, 
 And the white snow soon weeps away in tears.** 
 
 Logical thought becomes impossible when we rise into 
 these 1 8, 000- feet regions of speculation ; and it may be 
 safer to trust our instincts, such as they are. Apparently 
 heedless of us, the worlds roll through space — 
 
 •' While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise, 
 We men who in our morn of youth defied 
 
 The elements, must vanish ;— be it so ! 
 Enough if something from our hands have power 
 To live and act and serve the future hour ; 
 
 And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, 
 Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, 
 
 We fed that ive are greater than we know." 
 
250 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 Next morning was excessively cold, and we were glad 
 to hurry down the pass. The way ran down a not very 
 steep slope to a glacier-stream (which it might be diffi- 
 cult to ford during the heat of the day), then on a slight 
 ascent to the end of an enormous spur of the mountains, 
 where there was a very long and extremely steep descent 
 to La-kung — " the pass-house," a large, low, stone room, 
 with no window but the door, and with open spaces 
 between the stones, — which has been erected for the 
 protection of shepherds and travellers. We were now 
 within the watershed of the Indus, in the valley of the 
 Kharjak Chu, one of the mountain- streams which form 
 the Tsarap Lingti river. There were very formidable- 
 looking mountains to the right, through which the dliirzie, 
 who was a great geographical authority, assured me there 
 was no available pass to Ladak. In and descending 
 from the mountains to the left — that is to say, on the 
 left bank of the river down to Padam, and on the right 
 bank of the river which runs from the Pense-la Pass 
 down to Padam on the other side — there is probably 
 the most tremendous series of glaciers to be found in the 
 world, out of arctic and antarctic regions. There are 
 literally hundreds of them ; they extend on through 
 Suru, and even within the boundary of Kashmir proper, 
 and at some parts they come down into the large rivers, 
 threatening to block them up. 
 
 As the path runs down its right bank, we had to ford 
 the Kharjak Chu ; but though broad and rapid, it is 
 shallow at this place, and there was little difficulty in 
 doing so ; but in warmer weather it must be impossible 
 to cross it during the day. The path now followed the 
 windings of the stream, sometimes over grassy meads, 
 and anon over aggravating stone avalanches. We were 
 now fairly in the almost fabulous Zanskar, but no signs 
 of human habitations were visible. At first we passed 
 
ZANSKAR. 251 
 
 beneath tremendous cliffs of cream-coloured granite, 
 which, as we got farther down, appeared as one side of 
 an enormous detached pyramidal mass, high and steep 
 as the Matterhorn, and so smooth that scarcely any 
 snow lodged upon it, though it could have been little 
 short of 20,000 feet high. From some points this 
 extraordinary mountain looked almost like a column; 
 and I am sure if any Lama, Bawa, or lover of inorganic 
 nature could get up to the top of it, he would enjoy the 
 most perfect seclusion. Of all the mountains I have 
 ever beheld, those of Zanskar were the most picturesque, 
 weird, astounding, and perplexing. For several marches, 
 all the way down the valley of this river, and through 
 almost all the valley of the Tsarap Lingti, the precipice 
 walls were not only of enormous height, but presented 
 the most extraordinary forms, colours, and combinations 
 of rock. Even the upper Spiti valley has nothing so 
 wonderful. There were castles, spires, plateaus, domes, 
 aiguilles of solid rock, and spires composed of the 
 shattered fragments of some fallen mountains. At the 
 entrance of many of the ravines there were enormous 
 cliffs, thousands of feet high, v/hich looked exactly as if 
 they were bastions which had been shaped by the hands 
 of giants. Every mile or so we had to scramble across 
 the remains of some stone avalanche which deflected 
 the stream from its course, and under cliffs from which 
 great rocks projected, so that it looked as if a slight 
 touch would send them thundering down. Then the 
 colour of these precipice walls was of the richest and 
 most varied kind. The predominant tints were green, 
 purple, orange, brown, black, and whitish-yellow, but I 
 cannot say how many more there might have been ; 
 and green, purple, and c^eep brown were most frequent. 
 It can easily be imagined that, with such colours, the 
 dazzling sunhght and the shadows of the mountains 
 
252 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 falling over the valley worked the most wonderful 
 effects. Sometimes the sunlight came down through a 
 dark-coloured ravine like a river of gold. In certain 
 lights the precipices appeared almost as if they were of 
 chalcedony and jasper. The dark-brown manganese- 
 like cliffs looked exceedingly beautiful ; but no sooner 
 was one extraordinary vista left behind than a different 
 but not less striking one broke upon the view. The 
 geology of these valleys was rather puzzling; for a 
 remarkable feature here, as elsewhere to a less degree 
 among the Himaliya, is tlie way in which various rocks 
 pass into each other, as the clay- slate into mica-slate, 
 the mica-slate into granite, the quartzose conglomerate 
 into greywacke, and the micaceous schist into gneiss. 
 I was unable to pay any special attention to the geology 
 of this interesting region, and indeed I found the conti- 
 nuous journey I had undertaken rather too much for my 
 strength. Could I have rested more frequently I would 
 have enjoyed it more, and have observed more closely. 
 As it was, I had continually to press onwards, and being 
 alone caused a great strain on my energies, because 
 everything in that case depends on the one traveller 
 himself. He has to see that proper arrangements 
 are made ; that his servants do not practise extortion ; 
 that his camp is roused at an early hour in the morningj 
 and he has almost to sleep with one eye open. Any- 
 thing like an examination of these Zanskar cliffs would 
 have required several days specially devoted to them, 
 which I could by no means spare. Some of them were 
 composed of rocks which I had never met with before; 
 and others, judging from the fragments in the valley 
 below, were of quartzose conglomerate, passing into 
 greywacke of grey and greenish colour, of clay-slate, 
 very fine grained mica-slate, gneiss, greenstone, smooth 
 soapy talc, and porphyry. There seemed to be much 
 
ZANSKAR. 253 
 
 zeolite, and probably other minerals abounded. This 
 part of Zanskar does not seem to have been examined 
 by the Trigonometrical Survey, and is nearly a blank in 
 all our maps. 
 
 After passing down the valley for several hours, we 
 came at last upon Kharjak or Khargia, the first village 
 of Zanskar, comprising little more than about a dozen 
 houses, and with only two or three poor fields. There 
 were a great number, however, of yaks and ponies, and 
 no signs of poverty about the place. The people are 
 Tibetan-speaking Lama Budhists, and. differ from those 
 of the other Tibetan provinces of the Himaliya only in 
 being more'pastoral, more primitive, more devout, more 
 hospitable, and less democratic. Kharjak is a depen- 
 dency of the larger village of Thesur, about a day's 
 journey down the valley. The principal Talukdar of 
 both was in it when I arrived, and his reception of us, 
 as well as that given by all the people, formed a very 
 pleasing contrast to the inhospitality of the Lahaulies, 
 The Talukdar gave me a rupee as a JuLziir or act of 
 obeisance, and insisted on furnishing my servants with 
 horses for the next two days' journey, purely out of the 
 hospitality of a mountaineer. He himself accompanied 
 us these two days, with three times the number of men 
 that I required or paid for, merely to show me respect, 
 and he was very kind and attentive in every way. Any 
 sportsmen who have gone into Zanskar have done so 
 from Kashmir, and only as far as Padam, so that in this 
 part of the country Sahibs are almost unknown. I am 
 not aware that any one has passed through it since Mr 
 Heyde did so, and in these circumstances, hospitality, 
 though pleasant, is not to be wondered at. Kharjak, as 
 I have mentioned, is 1 3,670 feet high, and it is inhabited 
 all the year round. The sky was overclouded in the 
 
254 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 afternoon ; some rain fell, and a violent wind arose, 
 which continued through great part of the night. 
 
 Around this highly- elevated village there is an 
 unusual number of large Choten, nearly solid edifices, 
 generally composed of large square platforms, placed 
 one above another, and surrounded by the larger half 
 of an inverted cone, which supports a tapering pillar 
 bearing a Dharma emblem. These Choten were ori- 
 ginally receptacles for offerings, and for the relics of 
 departed saints, and they thus came to be considered a 
 holy symbol, and to be made large without containing 
 either offerings or relics. They are sometimes of nearly 
 a pyramidal shape. According to Koeppen, the proper 
 names for them are in Tschod, r Ten, or g Dung, r Ten, 
 and General Cunningham says that the latter word 
 denotes the proper boneholders or depositaries of holy 
 relics ; but Choten, or something very like it, has 
 come to be generally applied to all edifices of this kind. 
 There are more than a dozen of them about Kharjak, 
 some nearly twenty feet high, and they do not seem to 
 be associated with any particular saint. Some of them 
 had what by courtesy might be taken for a pair of eyes 
 figured on the basement; and this, Cunningham informs 
 us, means that they are dedicated to the supreme 
 Budha, "the eye of the universe." One also frequently 
 finds among the Tibetans small Choten, three or four 
 inches h1*-;h, and I was shown one of these which \vas 
 said to contain the«ashes of a man's wife. 
 
 Zanskar is rich, too, in the Mani which are to be found 
 sometimes in the most desolate situations. These are 
 long tumuli or broad dykes of stones, many of which 
 stones are inscribed or sculptured. They are met with 
 even high up among the mountains, and vary in length 
 from thirty feet to so many as a thousand and even more. 
 Their usual height is about five feet, and the breadth 
 
ZANSKAR. 255 
 
 about ten. I suppose I must have passed hundreds of 
 these Mani on my journey ; and the Tibetans invariably 
 pass so as to keep them on the right-hand side, but I 
 have been unable to discover the meaning of this prac- 
 tice. The stones are beautifully inscribed, for the most 
 part, with the universal Lama prayer, " Om mani pad 
 mehaun ;" but Herr Jaeschke informs me that sometimes 
 whole pages of the Tibetan Scriptures are to be found 
 upon them, and they have, more rarely, well-executed 
 bas-reliefs of Budha, of various saints, and of sacred 
 Budhistic symbols. These stones are usually prepared 
 and deposited for some special reason, such as for safety, 
 on a journey, for a good harvest, for the birth of a son ; 
 and the prodigious number of them in so thinly peopled 
 a country indicates an extraordinary waste of human 
 energy. 
 
 In. a certain formal sense the Tibetans are undoubtedly 
 a praying people, and the most pre-eminently praying 
 people on the face of the earth. They have praying 
 stones, praying pyramids, praying flags 'flying over every 
 house, praying wheels, praying mills, and the universal 
 prayer, " Om mani pad me haun," is never out of their 
 mouths. In reference to that formula, Koeppen, in his 
 " Lamaische Hierarchie und Kirche,'' p. 59,"makes the 
 following striking remarks, the truth of which every 
 Tibetan traveller will allow : — " These primitive six syl- 
 lables which the Lamas repeat are, of all the prayers 
 of earth, the prayer which is most frequently repeated, 
 written, printed, and conveniently offered up by me- 
 chanical means. They constitute the only prayer which 
 the common Mongols and Tibetans know ; they are the 
 first words which the stammering child learns, and are 
 the last sighs of the dying. The traveller murmurs 
 them upon his journey ; the herdsman by his flock ; the 
 wife in her daily work ; the monk in all stages of con- 
 
256 ^ THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 templation, that is to say, of nihilism ; and' the}^ are the 
 cries of conflict and triumph. One meets with them every- 
 where wherever the Lama Church has estabhshed itself 
 — on flags, rocks, trees, walls, stone monuments, uten- 
 sils, strips of paper, human skulls, skeletons, and so 
 forth. They are, according to the meaning of the be- 
 liever, the essence of all religion, of all wisdom and 
 revelation ; they are the way of salvation, and the 
 entrance to holiness. ' These six S}'llables unite the 
 joys of all Budhas in one point, and are the root of all 
 doctrine. They are the heart of hearts out of which 
 everything profitable and blessed flows ; they are the 
 root of all knowledge, the guide to rebirth in a higher 
 state of being, the door which the curse ^f birth has 
 closed up, the ship which carries us out of the mutations 
 of birth, the light which illumines the black darkness, 
 the valiant conqueror of the Five Evils, the flaming 
 ocean in which sins and sorrows are destroyed, the 
 hammer which shatters all pain,' — and so forth." 
 
 That is pretty well for a glorification of " Om mani 
 pad me haun," and one becomes impatient to know 
 what these mystic S3dlables mean, and how they come 
 to possess such tremendous power. It is rather dis- 
 appointing to find that the closest English version of them 
 which can be given is — " O God ! the jewel in the lotus ! 
 Amen." I have gone carefully into this subject, and 
 little more can be got out of it. Substantially the prayer, 
 or rather exclamation, is not of Tibetan, but of Sanscrit 
 origin. Koeppen translates it simply as — " O ! das Klei- 
 nod im Lotus ! Amen." But that is quite insufficient, 
 because the great force of the formula lies in " Om," the 
 sacred syllable of the Hindus, which ought never to be 
 pronounced, and which denotes the absolute, the supreme 
 Divinity. In order to show the literal meaning, the 
 
ZANSKAR. 257 
 
 words may be translated into their English equivalents, 
 thus — 
 
 Om Mani Pad me Haun. 
 
 O God ! the jewel lotus in Amen ! 
 
 I need not go into the mystic explanations of this for- 
 mula, as, for instance, that each of the five syllables 
 which follow the sacred "om'' is a preservative against 
 a particular great class of evils. Suffice to note that the 
 repeating of this prayer — whether vocally or by various 
 mechanical means — has become a sacred and protecting 
 symbol, such as making the sign of the cross is among 
 Roman Catholic Christians. However it may be with 
 the more intelligent of the Lamas, to the ordinary Tibe- 
 tan mind, " Om mani pad me haun" is only known in 
 that sense, and as a prayer for the wellbeing of the six 
 classes of creatures, — to wit, human beings, animals, evil 
 spirits, souls in heaven, souls in purgatory, and souls in 
 hell. Koeppen does not seem to have been aware of this 
 special application of the prayer as it is now used, but 
 that is really the meaning universally associated with it ; 
 and so it comes to be an aspiration of universal benevo- 
 lence, which is supposed to have a protecting influence 
 on those who give utterance to it, or reproduce it in 
 any way. The original meaning of a charm of this kind 
 does not much matter when once it obtains general 
 acceptance ; and it is quite in accordance vvith the pecu- 
 liar value attached to it, that the reproduction of it on 
 stones, flags, and rolls of paper, should be regarded as 
 religious worship, as well as the oral repetition of it. 
 
 It is in this way that the prayer-wheels and prayer- 
 mills are used. These cylinders are filled with rolls of 
 paper, on which this prayer, and occasionally other 
 charms, are written many times, and the turning them 
 from left to right is supposed to be a means of offering 
 up the prayer. The Lamas keep constantly repeating it 
 
 R 
 
258 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 when turning their hand-cylinders upon an axis which ' 
 they grasp below. These cylinders are very often shortly 
 called '' Mani," a word which is loosely applied to many 
 matters connected with the Lama religion ; but, accord- 
 ing to Cunningham, their proper designation is " Mani 
 — ^ chhos — khor," or the "precious religious wheel." 
 This agrees with Koeppen, who adds, that they are not 
 originally Tibetan, but were used in India four hundred 
 )'ears before the Christian era. On that latter point, 
 however, he gives no authority for his statement, which 
 is opposed to the opinion of Klaproth, and of such an 
 experienced archaeologist as Cunningham, who sa}'s of 
 the prayer-cylinder, " I can vouch that I have never seen 
 it represented on any piece of Indian sculpture." I un- 
 derstand that about Darjiling it is not difficult to get 
 prayer-cylinders, but they are probabl}' manufactured 
 specially for the foreign market. Mr Heyde told me that 
 the only wa}' in which he had been able to supply the 
 demand of friends for them was to get them manufag- 
 tured ; and all my efforts to purchase from Lamas a 
 specimen which had been in use were entirely fruitless. 
 
 Our next day's journey to the Talukdar's village of 
 Thesur was a sort of honorary procession, and the path 
 was prett}' good, though there were some ugly ravines 
 and high banks above the river. Before reaching Thesur 
 we had to cross to the left bank of the Kharjak Chu, 
 and this was not easily accomplished. The stream was 
 broad, and so rapid that a single man on horseback 
 might have been swept away; so we had to join hands 
 and go over in an extended line — the riders, so to speak, 
 supporting the horses, and the action of the whole party 
 preventing any individual steed from being carried down. 
 There were no trees at this village, but the houses were 
 large, and there were a number of sloping but hardly 
 terraced fields. The next morning took us to the 
 
ZAXSKAR. 259 
 
 junction of the Kharjak Chu with the Tsarap Lingti, 
 before which we passed the Yal bridge, one of single 
 rope, on which a man had all the appearance of flying 
 through the air, as the slope from one side was consider- 
 able. The junction of the two rivers was a beautiful 
 scene. On the right, the Pune Gonpa, or monastery, 
 had a picturesque castellated appearance ; and the 
 water of the Tsarap Lingti was of a clear, deep blue, 
 with long, large, deep pools. The stream we had 
 descended was of a mudd}^ grey colour; and for some 
 way after their junction, the distinction between thq 
 water of the tv\ o rivers was as marked as it is at the 
 junction of the Rhone and the Arve beneath the Lake 
 of Geneva ; but (as is usual in unions between human 
 beings of similarly dissimilar character) the coarse and 
 muddy river soon gained the advantage, and polluted 
 the whole stream. Probably there is a lake up in that 
 unsurveyed part of- the mountains from whence the 
 Tsarap Lingti descends, and hence its waters are so 
 pure ; for the rocks between which it ran are of the same 
 character as those of its muddy tributary. Shortly after 
 we passed Char (12,799 feet), perched most picturesquely 
 on the other side of the river, but connected with our 
 side by a very well constructed and easy jhi'da. Im- 
 mediately after, there was a camping-ground, and some 
 attempt was made at a change of bigarries, but the Char 
 people refused to have anything to do v/ith the burden 
 of our effects. I found my tent pitched at the little 
 village of Suley, on a very small, windy, exposed plat- 
 form, about a thousand feet above the river, and had 
 it moved on again. We then passed down into a tre- 
 mendous ravine, at the bottom of which there was a 
 narrow deep gorge choked up with pieces of rock, be- 
 neath which a large mountain stream foamed and 
 thundered. Soon after, we reached a bad, but sheltered 
 
26o THE ABODE OF SNOW. . ' 
 
 and warm camping-ground, on the brink of the Tsarap 
 Lingti, and there stayed for the night, the Suley people 
 bringing us supplies. The next day took us over very 
 difficult ground, with no villages on our side of the river, 
 but with Dargong and Itchor on the other. We camped 
 at the village of Mune, beside a fine grove of willow- 
 trees, the first I had seen in Zanskar, and near the Mune 
 Gonpa, the Lamas of whjch were indisposed to allow me 
 to examine their retreat. The next day took me to 
 Padam, over similar ground. We descended by a steep 
 slope, dangerous for riding, into the valley of the Tema 
 Tokpho, and crossed that river just above its confluence. 
 Soon after, the great Burdun Gonpa appeared, where 
 also objection was made to my admission; and, on 
 approaching Padam, I had the great pleasure of seeing 
 a i^\K square miles of level ground, which, though it was 
 in great part covered with white stones, afforded much 
 relief to a mind somewhat overburdened with precipice- 
 walls and gorges. At Padam we were told to camp in 
 a very unsuitable place half a mile from the town, among 
 fields which next morning were flooded with water ; but 
 I would not do so, and found a delightful camping- 
 ground about a quarter of a mile to the west of the 
 town, on a fine grassy terrace under the shelter of an 
 immense rock, which completely protected us from the 
 wind. 
 
 This capital of Zanskar may be called a town, or even 
 a city, as matters go in the Himdliya, and was at least 
 the largest village I had seen since leaving Shipki in 
 Chinese Tibet. It has a population of about 2000, and 
 is the residence of a Thanadar, who governs the whole 
 province as representative of the Maharajah of Kashmir, 
 and who is supported by a small force of horse and foot 
 soldiers. In the afternoon this Mohammedan ofiicial 
 called, and presented a Jiaziir of Baltistan apricots, and 
 
ZANSKAR. 261 
 
 said he would send a sowar or trooper with me to Surii 
 in order to prevent any difficulty on the way. He was 
 civil and agreeable, and was specially interested in my 
 revolver ; but I did not get much information out of him 
 beyond learning that in winter the people of Padam 
 were pretty well snowed up in their houses ; and, if that 
 be the case there, at a height of only 11,373 feet, what 
 must it be in the villages which are over 13,000 feet high ? 
 No province could be much more secluded than Zan- 
 skar is. The tremendous mountains which bound it, 
 the high passes which have to ba crossed in order to 
 reach it, and its distance (both linear and practical) from 
 any civilised region, cut it completely off from the 
 foreign influences which are beginning to affect some 
 districts of even the Himaliya. There is a want of any 
 progressive element in itself, and its Tibetan-Budhist 
 people are in opposition to the influence of Mohammedan 
 Kashmir. It yields some small revenue to the Maharajah; 
 but the authority of his officers and soldiers in it is very 
 small, and they are there very much by sufferance. It 
 is the same in the Tibetan portion of Suru; but when I 
 got over the long, wild, habitationless tract which lies 
 between the Kingdom monastery and the village of 
 Suru, among a population who were more Kashmir and 
 Mohammedan than Tibetan and Budhist, I found an 
 immense change in the relations between the people on 
 the one hand and the soldiers on the other. The former 
 were exceedingly afraid of the soldiers, and the latter 
 oppressed the people very much as they pleased. There 
 was nothing of that, however, visible in Zanskar, where 
 the zemindars paid little respect to the soldiers, and 
 appeared to manage the affairs of the country them- 
 selves, much as the zemindars do in other districts of 
 the Himaliya which are entirely free from Mohammedan 
 control. 
 
262 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 According to Cunningham, Zanskar has an area of 
 3000 square miles, and a mean elevation of 13,154 feet, as 
 deduced from seven observations made along " the course 
 of the valley ;" but in no sense can it be correctly spoken 
 of as one valley ; for it is composed of three great valleys. 
 Taking Padam as a centre, one of these runs up the 
 course of the TsarapLingti, which we have just descended; 
 another, which we are about to ascend, lies along the 
 upper Zanskar river, up towards the Pense-la Pass and 
 Surii ; while a third is the valley of the Zanskar river 
 proper, which is formed b}^ the junction of the two 
 streams just mentioned : these, when conjoined, flow in 
 a nearly northern direction towards the upper Indus. In 
 shape, this province is something \\\e. the three legs of 
 the Manx coat of arms. Its greatest length must be 
 nearly ninety miles, and its mean breadth must be over 
 fifty ; but this gives no idea of what it is to the traveller, 
 who has to follow the course of the rivers and meets with 
 difficult ground. It took me ten marches to get from 
 one end of Zanskar to the other ; and no one with loaded 
 coolies could have done it in less than nine. Cunning- 
 ham translates the name Zanskar, or rather " Zangs-kar," 
 as " white copper," or brass ; but an enthusiastic Gaelic 
 scholar suggests to me that it is the same as Sanquhar 
 of Scotland, and has a similar meaning. This latter 
 supposition may seem very absurd at first sight, Tibetan 
 being a Turanian, and Gaelic an Aryan language ; but 
 his contention only is that the names of innumerable 
 places in Tibet and Tartary are identical witli the local 
 names of the Gaelic language; and for almost ev^ery 
 Tibetan name I mentioned to him he found a Gaelic 
 synonym, having a meaning which suited the character 
 of the Tibetan localities very appropriately. I cannot,, 
 do more tlian refer to this matter here, but should not be 
 surprised if this view were borne out by a strictly scien- 
 
ZANSKAR. 263 
 
 tific investigation of the subject ; for it struck me forcibly 
 before I left Zanskar that there must be some unknown 
 relationship between the people of that province and the 
 Scottish Highlanders. The sound of their language, the 
 brooches which fasten their plaids, the varieties of tartan 
 which their woollen clothes present, and even the fea- 
 tures of the people (which are of an Aryan rather than 
 a Tartar type), strongly reminded me of the Scotch 
 Highlanders. The men had tall athletic forms, long 
 faces, aquiline noses ; and the garment,"? of the women in 
 particular presented many of the clan tartans, though 
 the check was not so common as the stripe. Division of 
 races and of languages have been employed of late to an 
 unscientific extreme; and there is nothing improbable 
 in the supposition that a particular Himaliyan tribe, of 
 mixed Aryan and Turanian blood, speaking a mixed 
 language, which became almost entirely Aryan as the\- 
 advanced, but preserving especially the local names of 
 their Tibetan birthplace, with some peculiarities of dress 
 and custom, may have pushed their way along the 
 " Stony Girdle of the Earth " to the islands (if they were 
 then islands) of the Western Sea. R and n being inter- 
 changeable, and as words signifying crossing or weaving 
 across, it is not absolutely impossible that tartan ma}' 
 have some relationship to Tartar, the name of the cloth 
 being taken from that of the people who wore it. This is 
 about as likely as the usual derivation of tartan from the 
 French tiret'aine ; but it would be almost as unwarrant- 
 able to affirm it without some positive indication of its 
 having been the case, as it would be to accept the. deri- 
 vation of an ingenious and learned friend who insists 
 that the word tartan obtained its present application 
 when the Ass}^rian General Tartan (Isa. xx. 1-4) took 
 Ashdod, and carried away the Egyptians captive in an 
 imperfectly clothed condition, which must have made 
 
264 THE ABODE OF SNOW, 
 
 them bear a striking resemblance to Scotch Highlanders 
 in their national costume. 
 
 Starting from Padam in the afternoon of the next day, 
 we proceeded in a north-westerly direction up the pretty 
 level, open valle}- of the upper Zanskar river, and camped 
 at Seni Gonpa, where there is a small village. The next 
 day also, on the journey to Phe, the road was good, and 
 the valley pleasant, but we had to cross to the left bank 
 of the river by a long and ^if^cxxXt jhi'da. It was amusing 
 to notice the looks of the dogs as, wrapt in plaids, they 
 were unwillingly carried over on the backs of coolies; 
 and one of my servants became so nervous in the middle, 
 that he was unable to go either backwards or forwards, 
 until one of the mountaineers was sent to his assistance. 
 After passing two villages, we came on a long stretch of 
 uninhabited ground that extended to Phe, and here met 
 with the commencement of a tremendous snowstorm, 
 which, on and about the i6th and 17th September, swept 
 over the whole line of the western Himaliya from Kash- 
 mir, at least as far as the Barra Lacha Pass, closing the 
 passes, and preventing the Yarkund traders from getting 
 down to Simla, as noted in the Indian newspapers at the 
 time. Such a snowstorm is not usual so early in the season, 
 but the Zanskaries said it occasionally occurred. It had 
 often struck me how little attention the people of the 
 Himaliya paid to the weather, and how ignorant they 
 Avere of its signs ; and the present occasion was no ex- 
 ception to that rule, as the storm appeared to take our 
 party quite by surprise. The morning had been cold 
 and dark, but with that peculiar thickening of the air 
 which indicates the gathering of snow. As we advanced 
 up the valley, an ocean of mist began to hurry across it 
 from the glaciers and snowy mountains on the left or 
 south-western side, but admitting, at first, occasional 
 gleams of sickly sunlight, which soon disappeared alto- 
 
ZANSKAR. 26s 
 
 gether. At first, also, there was almost no wind where 
 we were, though it was blowing a hurricane above, and 
 the mist rushed over from the one snowy range to the 
 other with marvellous rapidity. After a time, however, 
 violent gusts of wind and blasts of rain came down upon 
 us ; the rain changed into sleet ; a violent wind blew 
 steadily ; and before we reached the village of Phe it was 
 snowing heavily. To camp in our tents in these circum- 
 stances v.'as not desirable ; and the sowar whom the 
 Thanadar of Padam had given me prevailed on the 
 principal zemindar of Phe to allow us to take up our 
 quarters in his house ; and there we had to stay until 
 the day after next, when the force of the storm had ex- 
 hausted itself. 
 
 This house, which was a typical Tibetan residence 
 of the better class, was built of stone, without mortar, 
 but interspersed by large beams, which must have been 
 brought from a distance, and which add to the security 
 of the edifice. It occupied an area of, I should think, 
 about eighty feet in length, and sixty in breadth, was 
 two-storeyed, and had a small courtyard in front. All 
 the lower rooms were occupied by ponies, sheep, and 
 cattle ; and savoury were the smells, and discordant the 
 cries, which they sent upstairs, or rather through the 
 roof of their abode, during my two days' confinement 
 above. The upper storey was reached by a stone stair- 
 case, which ascended partly outside the house and partly 
 inside, and which, in its latter portion, required one to 
 stoop painfully. Part of this storey, fronting the court- 
 yard, had no roof, and so formed a kind of balcony, one 
 end of which, however, was roofed over, and afforded 
 shelter and a cooking-place for my servants. From 
 that, a low passage, on both sides of which there were 
 some small rooms or closets, led into the principal 
 apartment of the house, on one side of which there was 
 
266 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 another large room, occupied by the women and chil- 
 dren, with a very small window and balcony. On 
 another side there was a storeroom ; and on the third 
 there was a dark room which was used as a chapel, 
 and in which a light was kept constantly burning. The 
 principal apartment, in which I took up my residence, 
 along with the husbands of the wife, and apparently 
 any one who might drop in, including a Balti wanderer, 
 was about forty feet long by thirt}'. It had no window, 
 properly speaking — light, air, and, I may add, snow, 
 finding admission through a square hole in the roof, 
 with sides each about six feet. Directly below this, but 
 not so large, there was a corresponding hole in the floor, 
 so that a sort of well ran down to the ground-floor, and 
 served to carry off the rain and snow which are ad- 
 mitted by the hole in the roof. This is an ingenious 
 arrangement, and shows that the human mind may 
 have some invention even when it is not equal to con- 
 ceive of a chimney. The room was just high enough to 
 allow of a tall man standing upright beneath the beams; 
 and the roof was about four feet thick, being composed 
 of thorn-bushes pressed very closely together, and rest- 
 ing on several large strong beams. Inside, the walls 
 were plastered with a kind of coarse cJiunavi ; the floor 
 was composed of rafters and slabs of slate ; and on the 
 floor, resting against one of the walls, there were two or 
 three small stone fireplaces, which constituted the only 
 furniture, except one or two chests, which served as 
 seats. 
 
 To say that this was in itself a pleasant place of 
 residence would be incorrect. The large aperture in 
 the centre of the roof created a low temperature which 
 required a fire to make it tolerable, but the smoke from 
 the fire knew when it was well off, and showed a re- 
 markable aversion to going out at the aperture. Con- 
 
ZANSKAR. 267 
 
 sequently, there was the alternative of being- starved 
 with cold or being occasionally half choked and blinded 
 with the pungent smoke of birch and thorn bushes. 
 However, the smoke, after going up the wall, did collect 
 pretty close to the roof, the inside of which it had 
 covered with a thick layer of soot. That was not 
 nearl}' so great an evil as the porous character of the 
 roof itself, through which the snow soaked only too 
 easily, and, being thoroughly melted by the time it got 
 through the roof, fell ever3^where into the apartment in 
 large, black, dirty drops, so that it was somewhat diffi- 
 cult to find a spot on which one could keep dry or 
 clean. 
 
 On the second day, when there was no appearance of 
 the snowstorm ceasing, and there was great probability 
 of my having to spend a winter of eight months in Phe, 
 I began seriously to consider what state I should likely 
 be in after so prolonged a residence in such an apart- 
 ment. The prospect was by no means a pleasant one, 
 and I resolved, if I had to remain, to take up my abode 
 in the half-covered balcony. My liquors were at their 
 last ebb, and my tea was disappearing ; but I could 
 keep myself going in coffee by means of roasted barley, 
 and there would be no want of milk, meal, and mutton. 
 Perhaps a knowledge of the Tibetan language might 
 pr6ve more useful to me than that of English ; and 
 an intelligent being might find more satisfaction as a 
 Nimapa Lama, than as either Primate or Prime Minister 
 of England in the present age. 
 
 The polyandric wife and mother of this house kept to 
 the inner room ; but there was a delightful trio which 
 kept me company in the public apartment, and was 
 composed of the aged grandmother and two fine chil- 
 dren, a girl and boy of five and six years old respec- 
 tively. They were delicious children, fair almost as 
 
268 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 northern Europeans, frolicsome and wild whenever the 
 grandmother was away or not looking after them, and 
 the next moment as demure as mice when the cat is in 
 the room. They ate with great gusto enormous piles 
 of thick scones covered with fine rancid butter. No 
 young lions ever had a more splendid appetite, or 
 roared more lustily for their food. The old woman 
 kept them winding yarn and repeating " Om mani pad 
 me haun ; " but the moment her back was turned, they 
 would spring up, dance about, open their sheepskin 
 coats and give their little plump rosy bodies a bath of 
 cold air; but v/hen old granny, who was blear-eyed 
 and half blind, hobbled back, they were seated in their 
 places in an instant, hard at work at " Om mani pad," 
 and looking as if butter would not melt in their mouths. 
 Sometimes they would sit down beside me and gaze 
 into the fire, with all the wisdom and solemnity of Biidha 
 in their countenances ; then the boy's naked foot would 
 noiselessly steal out until he caught a burning branch 
 between his toes, on which the girl would give him a 
 violent nudge, push him over, and they would both 
 jump up laughing and run away. The grandmother 
 too was interesting. She said she had seen seventy 
 years — she did not know how many more, and the 
 Tibetans rarely know their own ages. There was be- 
 tween her and the children that confidential relationship 
 we often see in Europe, and which, being born of love, 
 creates no fear; and she also found room in her affec- 
 tions for a young kitten, which drove Djeola almost 
 mad. Though nearly blind, she plied her distaff in- 
 dustrious!}', and she showed her piety by almost 
 continuously repeating the great Lama prayer. It is 
 true she never got any farther than " Om mani pad," ■ 
 thereby getting over more repetitions of it than would 
 have been possible had she pronounced the whole 
 
ZANSKAR. 269 
 
 formula ; but let us hope the fraud on heaven was 
 passed over. A less agreeable occupation in which she 
 indulged was that of freeing her own garments and 
 those of the children from unpleasant parasites ; for, 
 after doing so, she always carefully placed them on the 
 floor without injuring them ; for it would never have 
 done to neutralise the effect of the prayer for the six 
 classes of beings by destroying any of them. To the 
 looker-on, this placing of parasites on the floor is apt to 
 suggest foreboding reflections. But, to tell the truth, 
 one gets accustomed to that sort of thing. Whatever 
 care be taken, it is impossible to travel for any time 
 among the Himaliya without making the acquaintance 
 of a good many little friends. It is impossible to de- 
 scribe the shuddering disgust with which the discovery 
 of the first is made ; but, by the time you get to the 
 five-hundredth, you cease to care about them, and take 
 it as a matter of course. When our bedding and all 
 our baggage is carried on the backs of coolies, there 
 must be some transference of that class of parasites 
 which haunt the human body and clothes; but they are 
 easily got rid of entirely when the supply stops. 
 
 Though the children were so fair, the men of the 
 house were dark and long-featured, with almost nothing 
 of the Tartar in their countenances ; but their language 
 is quite Tibetan, and I should say that we have here 
 a distinct instance of a people who speak the language 
 of an alien race, and that alone. It will be curious if 
 my supposition be correct that these Zanskaries are the 
 "congeners of the Celtic race, and the subject is well 
 worthy of examination. I was not admitted into the 
 room dedicated to religious purposes, but saw there 
 were Budhist images, brass basins, and saucer-lights 
 similar to those used both by the Chinese and the 
 Indians. The young Balti who had taken refuge with 
 
270 THE ABODE OF SNO IV. 
 
 us from the storm displayed some honesty, though he 
 was going in a different direction from ours ; for, on 
 my giving him four annas (sixpence) for quite a number 
 of the apricots of his country which he had presented 
 me with, he said that was too much, and brought me 
 more of his dried fruit, which must have been carried 
 over a difficult journey of weeks. I met several large 
 parties of Baltis in this part of the Himaliya, and was 
 struck by their Jewish appearance. Though Moham- 
 medans, their language is Tibetan, and Nurdass had no 
 difficulty in talking with them. Here is another in- 
 stance where a people, evidently not of a Tartar race, 
 speak a Tartar language; and I must again protest 
 against the extreme to which the philologists have em- 
 plo}'ed the clue of language. The Jews of China have 
 entirely lost their own tongue, and their nationality has 
 been recognised only by two or three customs, and by 
 their possession of copies of the Pentateuch — which 
 they are unable to read. Such matters are often as 
 well treated by men of general knowledge and large 
 capacity of thought as by the devotees of some par- 
 ticular branch of knowledge. 
 
 On the second morning after our arrival at Phe the 
 storm had entirely passed off, and a council of the 
 villagers was held to determine whether or not we 
 could be got over the Pense-la Pass. I should have 
 been delighted to remain in Zanskar all winter, though 
 not in such an apartment as I have described, but was, 
 in a manner, bound in honour to my servants to pro- 
 ceed if it were possible to do so ; and the villagers were 
 anxious to see us off their hands, for it would have 
 been a serious matter for them had we remained all 
 winter. So, with a strong body of higarrics and a 
 number of ponies and cows, we started at nine in the 
 morning. The open valley presented a most lovely 
 
ZANSKAR. 271 
 
 scene. Pure white snow rose up on icither side of it 
 nearly from the river to the tops of the high mountains, 
 dazzhng- in the sunlight. Above, there was a clear, 
 brilliant, blue sky, unspotted by any cloud or fleck of 
 mist, but with great eagles occasionally flitting across 
 it. Close to the river the snow had melted, of was 
 melting from the grass, displaying beautiful autumn 
 flowers which had been uninjured by it ; the motsture 
 on these flowers and on the grass was sparkling in the 
 sunlight. Every breath of the pure keen air was ex- 
 hilarating ; and for music we had the gush of snow- 
 rivulets, and the piping of innumerable large marmots, 
 which came out of their holes on the sides of the valley, 
 and whistled to each other. It v/as more like an Alpine 
 scene in spring than in autumn, and reminded me of 
 Beattie's lines describing the outbreak of a Lapland 
 spring : — 
 
 " Thus on the chill Lapponian's dreary land, 
 For many a long month lost in snow profoimd, 
 When Sol from Cancer heiids the seasons bland, 
 And in their northern cave the storms are bound. 
 From silent mountains, straiglit, with startling sound. 
 Torrents are hurled ; green hills emerge ; and, lo ! 
 The trees with foliage, cliffs with flowers are crowned, 
 Pure rills through vales of verdure warbling flow." 
 
 On reaching the last village, called Abring, it was 
 determined not to stay there, but to camp as high up 
 on the pass as we could reach before nightfall, in order 
 to have the whole of the next day for getting over the 
 deep snow with which its summit was covered. On 
 ascending from the larger valley, we passed through a 
 number of picturesque small vales, and then got on a 
 more open track, on one side of which, where there were 
 some birch-bushes, we camped at eve. My tent had to 
 be pitched on snow; and I may say that for the next 
 
272 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 seven days, or until I reached Dras, I was very little off 
 that substance ; and for six nights my tent was either 
 pitched on snow, or on ground which had been swept 
 clear of it for the purpose. At this camp on the 
 Pense-la, darkness came on (there being only a crescent 
 moon in the early morning) before our preparations for 
 the night were concluded. My thermometer sank to 
 22°, and there was something solemn suggested on 
 looking into the darkness and along the great snowy 
 wastes. My bigarries were very much afraid of bears, 
 saying that the place was haunted by them ; but none 
 appeared. 
 
 Starting early next morning, we passed through seve- 
 ral miles of thick brushwood, chiefly birch and willow, 
 just before we approached the col of the Pense-la Pass. 
 A great glacier flowed over it, and for some way our 
 ascent lay up the rocky slopes to the right side of this 
 ice-stream ; but that was tedious work, and when we got 
 up a certain distance, and the snow was thick enough to 
 support us, we moved on to the glacier itself, and so 
 made the remainder of the ascent. The fall of snow 
 here had been tremendous. I probed in vain with my 
 seven feet long alpenstock to strike the ice beneath ; but 
 every now and then a crevasse, too large to be bridged 
 by the snow, showed the nature of the ground we were 
 on. I fancy this was the most dangerous ground J rode 
 over in all the Himaliya, for the snow over a crevasse 
 might have given way beneath a horse and his rider; 
 but several of the Zanskar men were riding and did not 
 dismount, so I was fain to trust to this local knowledge, 
 though I did not put any confidence in it. Not far from 
 the top of the pass we came upon a beautiful little lake 
 in the glacier, sunk within walls of blue ice, and frozen, 
 but with the snow which had fallen and the upper ice of 
 its surface all melted ; for by this time the power of 
 
ZANSKAR. 273 
 
 the sunbeams in the rarefied atmosphere, and of their 
 reflection from the vast sheets of pure white snow, was 
 something trefnendous. I had on blue goggles to pro- 
 tect my &yQ?>* and a double musllu veil over my face, 
 yet all the skin on my face was destro\'ed. After cross- 
 ing this pass, my countenance became very much like 
 an over-roasted leg of mutton ; and as to my hands, the 
 mere sight of them would have made a New Zealander's 
 teeth water. On my Indian servants the only effect was 
 to blacken their faces, and make their eyes bloodshot. 
 The top of the Pense-la is only 14,440 feet high, but it 
 took us a long time to reach it, our horses sinking up to 
 their girths in the snow at almost every step, and the 
 leader having to be frequently changed. We have been 
 told to pray that our flight should not be in the winter ; 
 and certainly in a Himaliyan winter it would not be 
 possible to fly either quickly or far without the wings of 
 eagles. The deep dark blue of the heavens above con- 
 trasted with the perfect and dazzling whiteness of the 
 earthly scene around. The uniformity of colour in this 
 exquisite scene excited no sense of monotony ; and, 
 looking on the beautiful garment of snow which covered 
 the mountains and glaciers, but did not conceal their 
 forms, one might well exclaim — 
 
 '* It seems the Eternal Soul is clothed in thee 
 With purer robes than those of flesh and blood." 
 
 Especially striking was the icy spire of one of the two 
 Akun (the Ser and Mer) peaks, the highest of the 
 Western Himaliya, which rose up before us in Suru to 
 
 * There" was another use to which I found goggles could be put. Tibetan 
 mastiffs were afraid of them. The fiercest dog in the Himaliya will skulk 
 away terrified if you walk up to it quietly in perfect silence v>'itli a pair of 
 dark-coloured goggles on, and as if you meditated some villany ; but to 
 utter a word goes far to break the spell. 
 
274 THE ABODE OF SNO IV. 
 
 the height of 23,477 feet. I did not get another glimpse 
 of it ; but from this side it appeared to be purely a spire 
 of glittering ice, no rock whatever being visible, and the 
 sky was — 
 
 " Its own calm home, its crystal shrine, 
 Its habitaticn from eternity." 
 
 But instead of attempting further description, let me 
 quote an older traveller, and give Hiouen Tsang's 
 description of what he beheld on the Musur Dabaghan 
 mountain as applicable to what I saw from, and expe- 
 rienced on, the Pense-la, and still more especially on the 
 Shinkal : — " The top of the mountain rises to the sk\'. 
 Since the beginning of the world the snow has been 
 accumulating, and is now transformed into vast masses 
 of ice, which never melt either in spring or summer. 
 Hard and brilliant sheets of snow are spread out till they 
 are lost in the infinite and mingle with the clouds. If 
 one looks at them, the eyes are dazzled by the splendour. 
 Frozen peaks hang, down over both sides of the path 
 some hundred feet high and twenty or thirty feet thick. 
 It is not without difficulty or danger that the traveller 
 can clear them or climb over them. Besides, there are 
 squalls of wind and tornadoes of snow which attack the 
 pilgrims. Even with double shoes and with thick furs 
 one cannot help trembling and shivering." 
 
 In front of us immense sheets of snow stretched 
 steeply into a narrow valle}% and down one of these we 
 pkmged in a slanting direction. It was too late to reach 
 the neighbourhood of any human habitations that night ; 
 but we descended the valley for several miles till we 
 came to brushwood and a comparatively warm camping- 
 spot, well satisfied at having got over the Pense-la with- 
 out a single accident. Where I was to go next, however, 
 was a matter of some anxiety ; for here the elevated 
 valley theory began to break down, and we were in front 
 
ZANSKAR. 27S 
 
 of a confused congeries of mountains, which must be 
 difficult enough to cross at any time, but tenfold so 
 after such a snowstorm as had just swept over the 
 Himaliya. I felt especially uneasy about those unknown 
 places, of which Mr Heyde had said, "they might be a 
 little difficult to get over," From this point where we 
 now were, I had proposed to go, in a south-westerly 
 direction, over the Chiling Pass to Petgam in Maru Ward- 
 wan, from whence it would not have been difficult to 
 reach Islamabad in the south of Kashmir ; but the Zans- 
 kar men declared that there was no such pass, no pas- 
 sage in that direction ; and it was at least clearly evi- 
 dent that the habitationless villages leading that way 
 were so blocked up with prodigious masses of snow, 
 that they had become quite impracticable till next 
 summer. I was thus compelled to proceed north\^"^.rds, 
 and to strike the road from Leh to Kashmir, and camped 
 that day at a small village near to the great Kingdom 
 Gonpa. I was permitted to enter and examine this 
 monastery, but must reserve an account of it. From 
 there it took me three easy marches through beautiful 
 open valleys to reach the village and fort of Suru. 
 The first two days were over uninhabited ground ; and 
 we camped the first night at Gulmatongo, where there 
 are some huts occupied by herdsmen in summer. This 
 place is the most advanced post in that direction of the 
 Tibetan-speaking people and of the Lama religion; for 
 the village of Parkatze, where we camped next night, is 
 inhabited chiefly by Kashmiri Mohammedans, and at 
 Suru there is a Kashmiri Thanadar and a military force. 
 In these valleys there are immense numbers of large 
 marmots, called pia by the Tibetans, from the peculiar 
 sound they make. We shot several of them, and found 
 their brown fur to be very soft and thick. There was no 
 difficulty in shooting them, but some in gaining posses- 
 
276 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 sion of them, for they were always close to the entrance 
 of their holes, and escaped down these unless killed out- 
 right. The people do not eat them, considering them to 
 be a species of rat ; and though the skins are valued, this 
 animal does not seein to be hunted. The skins I procured 
 disappeared at Suru, the theft being laid to the charge of 
 a dog ; and though half my effects were carried in open 
 kiltas, this was the only loss I experienced on my long 
 journey, with the exception of a tin of bacon which dis- 
 appeared in Lahaul, and which also was debited to a 
 canine thief. The Himaliyan marmots were larger than 
 hares, though proportionably shorter in the body. They 
 were so fat at this season that they could only waddle, 
 having fed themselves up on the grass of summer in pre- 
 paration for their long hybernation in winter. They 
 undoubtedly communicate with one another by their 
 shrill cries, and have a curiously intelligent air as they 
 sit watching and piping at the mouth of their subter- 
 ranean abodes. The marmot has a peculiar interest as 
 one of the unchanged survivors of that period when 
 the megatherium, the sivatherium, and the other great 
 animals whose fossil remains are found in the Siwalick 
 range, were roaming over the Himali}'as, or over the 
 region where these now rise. 
 
 Shortly before reaching Suru we hkd to leave the bed 
 of the Suru river, which takes its rise near Gulmatongo, 
 and had to make a detour and considerable ascent. The 
 cause of this was an enormous glacier, which came down 
 into the river on the opposite (the left) bank, and de- 
 flected the stream from its course. Splendid walls of 
 ice were thus exposed, and here also there is likely to 
 be a cataclysm ere long. Suru is only a dependency of 
 Kashmir, and there were more snow-covered mountain- 
 ranges to be crossed before I could repose in the Valley 
 of Flowers ; but at this place I had fairly passed out of 
 
ZANSKAR. 277 
 
 the Tibetan region, and without, so far as I am aware, 
 having become either a Lama or a Bodhisavata. I may 
 say that, while it has unrivalled scenery, its people also 
 are interesting, and. manage wonderfully well with their 
 hard and trying life. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 KASHMIR. 
 
 Almost every one longs, and many hope, to see the 
 beautiful Vale of Kashmir. Probably no region of the 
 earth is so well known to the eye of imagination, or so 
 readily suggests the idea of a terrestrial Paradise. So 
 far from having been disappointed with the reality, or 
 having experienced any cause for wishing that I had 
 left Kashmir unvisited, I can most sincerely say that 
 the beautiful reality excels the somewhat vague poetic 
 vision which has been associated with the name. But 
 Kashmir is rather a difficult country to get at, espe- 
 cially when you come down upon it from behind, by 
 way of Zanskar and Suru. According to tradition, it 
 was formerly the Garden of Eden ; and one is very well 
 disposed to accept that theory when trying to get into 
 it from the north or north-west. Most people go up 
 to it from the plains of India by one of the four 
 authorised routes ; but T have a habit of getting into 
 places by some quite unusual way, and did so in this 
 instance. 
 
 From Suru to Kartse and Sankii, a day's journey, the . 
 road was not bad, except at one 'place, where I had 
 to ride high up the mountains in order to find a path 
 possible for ponies, and at another where the path was 
 so narrow, running athwart precipices and nearly pre- 
 cipitous slopes of shingle, that a man whom I met 
 leading his pony along it, had to take his steed back 
 for more than a mile before the two ponies could pass 
 
KASHMIR. 279. 
 
 each other. At Sanku there was a fine grove of trees 
 for a camping-ground, giving promise of a more genial 
 chme, though there was snow lying under the trees ; 
 and the way from Sanku to Omba, up the valley of the 
 Nakpo Chu, was tolerably easy ; but after leaving Omba 
 I did come upon some places which were " a little diffi- 
 cult to get over." Unfortunately I had no proper map 
 of that part of the country ; and, starting early from 
 Sanku, we reached the mountain village of Omba at 
 half-past ten in the morning. That seemed rather a 
 short da}''s journey, so I asked one of the coolies, who 
 spoke a little Hindusthani, how far it was from Omba to 
 Dras, and he said it was the same distance as we had 
 come from Sanku to Omba, and further illustrated his 
 meaning by grasping my alpenstock by the middle, and 
 indicating the two halfs of it as illustrations of the equal 
 length of the two distances. When I afterwards re- 
 proached this man for the difficulty into which he had 
 led us, he answered, with true Kashmirian effrontery, 
 that he had said- nothing of the kind ; that it was a 
 Dras-ivallaJi, a fellow from Dras, who, he alleged, had 
 passed at the time, that had said so. But no one 
 objected to our going on, and all the bigarrics showed 
 a remarkable alacrity in starting. What on earth their 
 motive was, I cannot say positively. Perhaps they 
 really wished to get on to Dras that day, from fear 
 of being cut off from their homes by a fall of snow; 
 but it is more probable that they were afraid of p-oino- 
 there, and proposed to give me the slip among the 
 mountains ; for about this time the envoy of the Yarkund 
 ruler was expected to be coming up the Dras valley, on 
 his return from a visit to Constantinople, and immense 
 numbers of Kashniir coolies were being impressed in 
 order to take his European purchases up to Leh. At all 
 events, there must have been some secret motive for 
 
28o THE ABODE OF SNUW. 
 
 their hurrying me into, the injuripus task of undertaking 
 in one day what ought properly to have been a three 
 days' journey. I was ignorant of the fact when among 
 those mountains; but find now, that in 1822, Moorcroft 
 went over the same road, and he took three days to it, 
 though it was July, and he started from above Sanku^ 
 and on the third day did not reach Dras, but only the 
 hamlet opposite it, which I reached in one day from 
 Sanku ; so it can be understood how tremendous was 
 the day's journey, and how great the mistake into which 
 I was led. 
 
 So we started from Omba, and began to ascend a 
 hill. I do not say "a hill" sarcastically, because had I 
 seen, soon after starting, what a mountain this hill was, 
 I should immediately have turned back and camped at 
 Omba ; but, though immense mountains rose before us, 
 they did so in such a manner as to make it appear likely 
 that a low pass ran between them. It was not until we had 
 laboured up steadily for about a couple of hours that the 
 horrible truth began to dawn upon my mind that there 
 was no pass, and that it was up the face of one of those 
 gigantic mountains that we were now going by a cork- 
 screw path. There really appeared to be no end either 
 of the path or of the mountain, and we soon got involved 
 in large patches of snow, though this was the south side 
 of " the pass." It was like going up, not to Kashmir, 
 but to heaven ; and I should even then have returned to 
 Omba but for the consideration that the bigarries were 
 from Sanku, and that it might be difficult to supply 
 their places or to get them to go on next day. Mean- 
 while they began to show symptoms of distress, and two 
 or three attempted to leave their luggage and bolt. One 
 man nearly effected his escape by getting leave to go 
 down a little way to a snow rivulet to drink. Whenever 
 he got there, he took to his heels down the pass, but was 
 
KASHMIR. 281 
 
 cut off and forced to come back by one of my servants, 
 who had fallen behind and was coming up oh horse- 
 back. 
 
 However, I ignorantly thought that if we got to the 
 top of this tremendous Omba-Ia, or Omba Pass (which 
 was as steep, and must have been as high, as the Kung- 
 ma, which leads from Namgea over into Chinese Tibet), 
 it would be all right ; and so I encouraged the bigarries to 
 labour upwards. There was deep snow at the summit ; 
 and looking down the northern side, an immense sheet 
 of snow was seen stretching down into a desolate valley, 
 and broken only by the track of a party of Baltis we 
 met at the summit. One of these was crying bitterly, 
 and on inquiring into the cause, I found he had been 
 struck with snow-blindness by the reflection of the sun. 
 I had scarcely time to look round, and the dazzling 
 whiteness was too much for my eyes, even when pro- 
 tected by blue glass; but Moorcroft says that when he 
 crossed it, and when there must have been much less 
 snow, " The view from the crest presented a majestic 
 line of snow-covered mountain-tops, very little above the 
 level of the pass, extending round a circle of at least 
 twenty miles in diameter. The uniformity of the ridges 
 was very remarkable ; for although broken with peak 
 and gorge, yet there were no single mountains or moun- 
 tain-chains that towered ambitiously above their fel- 
 lows." 
 
 It took us a long time to get down that snow-slope, 
 and for riders it was rather ticklish work. On reaching 
 the desolate valley, where there were only a few stunted 
 bushes, I thought it high time to refresh the inner man, 
 fanc}dng we had only to go down this valley a little way 
 to come upon Dras and human habitations ; but I had 
 only taken a few mouthfuls when I learned that it led 
 nowhere, that it had no human habitations, and that, in 
 
282 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 order to reach Dras, we should have to cross another 
 snowy range, possibly higher than the one we had just 
 got over with so much difficulty. The effect upon me of 
 this piece of information was precisely like that of a hot 
 potato. On inquiry, I found that the score of coolies 
 had little more than a pound of flour among them, and 
 that my servants were in almost as bad a predicament. 
 I had told the latter always to be provided for such an 
 emergency ; but they excused themselves on the ground 
 that they had supposed we had got out of the high 
 mountains. I myself could have camped with perfect 
 comfort, having plenty of provisions and clothing ; but 
 the bigarries had no sufficient means of protecting them- 
 selves from the cold, besides being destitute of provi- 
 sions. The situation was an extremely difficult one, 
 because by tliis time it was past three o'clock ; the sun 
 was completely shaded off the valley by the mountains 
 around; an intense cold began to make us all shiver; 
 and to attempt a snowy pass at that hour in the after- 
 noon, after having been almost continuously travelling 
 from before seven in the morning, was a distasteful and 
 exceedingly hazardous thing to do. 
 
 On the other hand, it occurred to me very forcibly 
 that if I did camp there I should find in the morning 
 that all the coolies had disappeared. It could hardly 
 be supposed that they had led me into this position 
 merely for the pleasure of doing three days' journey in 
 one, or of themselves spending a night, unprotected from 
 the cold and with empty stomachs, in the Twajeh val- 
 ley. The most rational supposition was that they wanted 
 to give me the slip, and so I determined to proceed at 
 all risks. It was most fortunate I did so, because next 
 day a tremendous snowstorm fell over these mountains. 
 If we had remained in this elevated valley all night, we 
 certainly could not have got over to Dras the next day, 
 
KASHMIR. 283 
 
 or for several days, and it is almost as certain that we 
 could not have got back to Omba. The most of the 
 party must have perished ; and hence I really was 
 indebted to the imaginary Dr'as-wallah, though from 
 the exposure of that evening I suffered for months. 
 
 But having determined to proceed, it was absolutely 
 necessary to secure that the bearers of my baggage 
 should do so likewise. Fortunately all my servants 
 were mounted, so I broke up our party into three divi- 
 sions, in order that the coolies might more easily be kept 
 in hand. I sent on my most valuable articles in front, 
 carried by coolies under charge of the violent Chota 
 Khan, and a sowar, or trooper, who had been sent with 
 me by the Thanadar of Suru. Keeping the sharp boy 
 Nurdass with me, I took the most refractory of the men 
 under my own charge, and made Phooleyram and Silas 
 with his gun look after a small section in the rear. My 
 servants saw as well as I did the necessity for the most 
 decided action, and we soon reached the foot of the 
 second range. Here the man who had before nearly 
 succeeded in running away gave me some trouble by 
 making a similar attempt, and afterwards by lying 
 down and refusing to budge an inch farther ; so I had to 
 show him that such conduct might involve worse evils 
 than those of going on. I was not at all afraid of their 
 running away once I got them well over the summit of 
 this infernal second snowy range, because from that 
 point they could hardly have reached Omba on empty 
 stomachs ; so my great anxiety was to get them over 
 the brow of the range before dark, so long as there was 
 light enough for us to keep them in hand. By various 
 kinds of encouragement I managed to push them up 
 that lofty mountain at really an astonishing rate, con- 
 sidering the ground they had got over that day ; and 
 when I saw men flagging really from want of strength, 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 I made them hold on by our horses' tails, which, in 
 making an ascent, is very nearly as good as riding on 
 the animal itself. 
 
 The sun had disappeared, and the light on the snow 
 we were crossing had become pale, when I got my party 
 up to the summit of this great mountain-ridge. But 
 instead of a descent to Dras, I saw before me, with 
 dismay, a large valley of snow, athwart which ran the 
 tracks of Chota Khan's party, rising up into a higher 
 mountain-range beyond. It was in fact a sort of double 
 pass we were on ; and though the descent between the 
 two ridges was not great, yet it was sufficiently formi- 
 dable, and the distance between them was enough to 
 alarm one in the circumstances. How weird that scene 
 was in the grey fading light ! The cold made me shiver 
 to the bone ; but there was something in the scene 
 also to make one shiver, so cold-looking was it, so 
 death-like. A crescent ^moon gleamed in the sky with 
 exceeding brightness, and the whole disc of the moon 
 was distinctly visible, but its light was insufficient to 
 dispel the darkness which seemed to be creeping up 
 from the valley over the wastes of snow. We had 
 quite sufficient light, however, to take us over the 
 second summit of the pass, but I suffered much from 
 the cold, being insufficiently clad, having had no ex- 
 pectation whatever of being up about i6,coo feet at 
 siich an hour. It was with a feeling of great relief that 
 I learned that we had now only to descend, and had no 
 more snowy ridges to surmount on our terrible way 
 to Dras. 
 
 But how to descend } That was the question which 
 immediately forced itself upon me. I was incliiled to 
 stick to the pony so long as I did not find it upon 
 the top of me; and fortunately it was a wonderful 
 steed, equalled only by that of the Shigri valley. But 
 
KASHMIR. 285 
 
 by this time the night had become dark, the crescent 
 moon was disappearing behind the mountains, and 
 there were long slopes of snow to be traversed. Here 
 the pony absolutely refused to move a step without my 
 allowing it to put its nose down close to the snow ; and 
 though, when it was in such an attitude on a steep 
 slope, there was considerable difficulty in keeping on 
 its back, I found it could be trusted to go down safely 
 in that way ; and carry me down it did, until we got 
 into a deep and excessively dark gorge, where it was 
 impossible to ride. It was so dark here that we could 
 hardly see a step before us, and I scrambled through in 
 a manner that I could hardly have believed possible. 
 Our way lay along the bed of a stream full of great 
 stones, over which we often fell. Then we would break 
 through ice into pools of ice-cold water, and come 
 to falls where we had to let one man down and descend 
 upon his shoulders. The pony meanwhile followed us, 
 obedient to the voice of its owner; and it seemed to 
 have more power of finding its way than we possessed, 
 for it got round descents which it could hardly have 
 jumped, and which we could find no way of avoiding. 
 
 After that frightful passage we came on more gentle 
 and easy descents, but it was with intense relief that I 
 saw the flames of a large fire of thorn-bushes which 
 Chota Khan and the sowar had kindled for our guid- 
 ance at a hamlet opposite to Dras, on our side of the 
 river. We gladly turned our steps in that direction, 
 and stayed there for the night, the men of the hamlet 
 assisting in setting up my tent. It was past ten before 
 I reached this place, so that we had been above fifteen 
 hours almost continuously travelling. The party under 
 Silas came in soon, but he himself did not turn up for 
 nearly an hour, and when he arrived he was in a very 
 excited state. After dark he got separated from his 
 
286 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 party, and came down that awful gorge in company 
 with one old coolie, of whose language he understood 
 only. the single word bah'i, or "hear;" and no doubt 
 there were likely enough to be bears about. This 
 was clearly not treatment such as a Bombay butler 
 had a right to expect ; but a little cocoa had a bene- 
 ficial effect upon him ; and whenever my tent was set 
 up I went to sleep in spite of the wind, which now 
 began to blow violently, accompanied by rain, and 
 was so worn out that I did not rise, or almost awake, 
 till one o'clock next day. 
 
 The morning was wet and windy ; thick clouds 
 covered the mountains which we had descended, and as 
 they lifted occasionally I saw that heavy snow had 
 fallen. In such weather, and being in a fatigued 
 condition, it was quite sufficient to move from our 
 exposed camp only two miles to the Thana of Dras, 
 where there was the shelter of trees and of walls. The 
 Thanader there spoke of the snow being forty feet 
 deep in winter, though the height is little over 10,000 
 feet, and he seemed a highly respectable old officer. 
 His quarters are detached some way from the large 
 fort where the most of his troops are stationed, and 
 I suppose these latter are not much needed now, unless 
 for purposes of oppression. Dras is a dependency of 
 Kashmir, being one of the provinces which have been 
 added to it by Mohammedan force and Hindu fraud, 
 which do not fail in the long run to break the shield 
 of the mountaineers. This valley is sometimes called 
 Himbab, or tlie " Source of Snow," which must be 
 a very suitable name for it, if that prodigious story 
 about the forty feet of snow be true. 
 
 There remains, however, another pass to be crossed 
 before we get into the valleys of even Upper Kashmir.^ 
 A very cold and wet day's journey took us up 
 
KASHMIR. 287 
 
 the Dras river to the miserable hamlet of Mataan, 
 where, before getting- out of my tent next morning, 
 I learned that the Yarkund envoy could not be far 
 off. I heard a loud voice crying out, Cajfe, baiiao, 
 cJia banao — " Make coffee, make tea," — followed by 
 whack, whack, as the blows of a stick descended 
 upon a man's back. This turned out to be the Wuzeer's 
 Wuzeer, or the envoy's avant-conrier, who was pushing 
 on ahead of his patron, and preparing the way. Like 
 many gentlemen's gentlemen, he was extremely indig- 
 nant at the comforts of life not being ready for him. I 
 do not believe that this miserable hamlet of Mataan 
 could have turned out a cup of tea or coffee to save the 
 lives of all its„ inhabitants ; and it seemed to me that 
 the Wuzeer's Wuzeer administered the stick to the entire 
 population of that unhapp)^ village. When I came out 
 of my tent, I had a momentary glimpse of a little man 
 in something like a red dressing-gown, dancing furiously 
 round a very big man, and hitting him with a long stick ; 
 but, on my appearance, he suddenly retired into his di'di. 
 After that, on the six marches down to Srinagar, I never 
 found myself clear of the retinue of the Yarkund envoy : 
 for the whole road down Avas covered with men carrying 
 his things; and tents, guarded by Kashmir soldiers, had 
 been pitched for him at various places. There were said 
 to be 3000 coolies employed in carrying up himself and 
 the effects he had purchased in Europe. I cannot say 
 as to the exact number; but really there seemed to be 
 no end of them, and they came from all parts of Kash- 
 m.ir. They were to be met with at almost every turn- 
 ing, and in very various positions. At one moment I 
 would find half-a-dozen of them resting to groan under 
 the weight of a 24-pounder gun, wrapped in straw, while 
 a sepoy of the Kashmir Maharajah threatened them 
 with his stick, or even with his sword : half-an-hour after 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 another party of them were pulling down walnuts from 
 some grand old tree, while some grand-looking old dame 
 (for the Kashmir women who survive to old age have an 
 aristocratic appearance, which would attract attention 
 in the courts of Europe) was looking on the .spoliation 
 of her property, or on that of her grandchild, now with 
 a melancholy dignity, which might have become the 
 tragic muse, and anon with shrieks and imprecations 
 which might have excited the envy of a moenad. Again, 
 I would come across three or four hundred of them at 
 sundown, kneeling down at prayer, with their faces 
 turned towards what was supposed to be the direction 
 of Mecca, but which really was more in the direction of 
 the North Pole Star than of anything else. At another 
 time a party of them would halt as I came by, support 
 their burdens on the short poles which they carried for 
 that purpose, and some Hindusthani spokesman among 
 them would say to me, " O Protector of the Poor!" 
 {GiLi'ib Parwdr, pronounced Guriptir), " you have been 
 up among these snowy mountains — shall we ever see 
 our house-roofs again ? " They all had the same story 
 as to their monetary position. Each man had got five 
 rupees (I do not know whether small chilki, Kashmir 
 rupees, or British, but should fancy the former) in order 
 to purchase rice for the journey ; but their further ex- 
 pectations on the subject of pay were of the most de- 
 sponding kind, anH the only anxiety they showed was, 
 not as to how they were to get back again, but as to 
 vi-hether it would be at all possible for them ever to get 
 back again. I must have missed the Yarkund envoy 
 himself about Ganderbahl, a day's march from Srina- 
 gar ; but shortly before getting to Ganderbahl I came 
 across three of his retinue, who puzzled me a little. It 
 was very wet and very muddy, when I suddenly came 
 across three riders in black European waterproofs, one 
 
KASHMIR. 289 
 
 of whom said to me — "Bones sore, Musliu ! " After 
 being for months up in the Himalij^a, one is unaccustomed 
 to being accosted in a European language ; and the 
 matter was comph'cated by the fact that rny bones were 
 sore at the time, and most confoundedly so, from the 
 combined effect of that evening on the Omba-la and of 
 a fall. Hence it was that I had fairly passed the three 
 curious riders before it at all occurred to my mind that the 
 salutation was " Bon soir, Monsieur." They were doubt- 
 less Frenchified Turks, whom the envoy had brought 
 from Constantinople ; but they had scarcely any ground 
 to expect that their peculiar French would be recog- 
 nised, on the moment, in one of the upper valleys of 
 Kashmir. 
 
 But I have not yet got into even the outskirts of the 
 Garden of Eden. The Zoji-la had to be crossed ; and 
 though it is a very easy pass, and set down by the Tri- 
 gonometrical Survey as only 11,300 feet high, yet I have 
 heard, and suspect, that a mistake has been made there, 
 and that nearly a thousand feet might have been added 
 to it. Let Major Montgoraerie's m'ap be compared with 
 the sheets of the Trigonometrical Survey, on which it 
 must be supposed to be based, and discrepancies will be 
 found. The Trigonometrical Survey has achieved more 
 than would allow of absolute accuracy in all its details ; 
 but, considering the means at its command, it has done 
 wonders. Still, though the Zoji Pass may be higher 
 than it has been set down, yet it seems almost child's- 
 play to the traveller from Zanskar and the Omba-la. 
 Though it seemed to me nothing after what I had gone 
 through, yet this pass must have a formidable appear- 
 ance to travellers coming upon it from below, judging 
 from the following description of it by Dr Henderson, 
 the ornithologist of the first of Sir Thomas Forsyth's 
 missions to Yarkund : — 
 
 T 
 
290 THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 " The road we had ascended was in many places rather trying to tlie 
 nerves, being very steep, and sometiines consi'^ting merely of a platform of 
 brushwood attached to the face of the precipice. This road, owing to its 
 steejDness, is quite impassable for baggage animals after a fall of snow, and 
 it is then necessary to wait at Baltal until th-e snow has melted, or to follow 
 the stream up a very nan-ow rocky gorge, with precipices of from 500 to 
 1000 feet on either side. This gorge, however, is only practicable when filled 
 up by snow to about fifty feet in depth, as it usually is early in the season: 
 it is then the usual route ; and at that season, in order to avoitl the avalan- 
 ches, it is necessary to start at night and get over the pass before sunrise. 
 Avalanches do not fall until late in the day, after the sun begins to melt 
 the snow." — Lahore to Yarkund : London, 1873. 
 
 I do not think the road has been improved since Dr 
 Henderson passed over it ; and now that I think of it, I 
 rememlDer that there was something like the brushwood 
 platforms of which he speaks. The great interest of it is 
 that it leads suddenly down upon the beautiful wooded 
 scenery of Kashmir. After months of the sterile, almost 
 treeless Tibetan provinces, the contrast was very strik- 
 ing, and I could not but revel in the beauty and glory 
 of the vegetation ; but even to one who had come upon 
 it from below the scene would have been very strik- 
 ing. There was a large and lively encampment at the 
 foot of the pass, with tents prepared for the Yarkund 
 envoy, and a number of Kashmir officers and soldiers; 
 but I pushed on beyond that, and camped in solitude 
 close to the Sind river, just beneath the Panjtarne 
 valley, which leads up towards the caves of Aniber- 
 neth, a celebrated place for Hindu pilgrimage. This 
 place is called Baltal, but it has no human habita- 
 tions. Smooth green meadows, carpet-like and em- 
 broidered with flowers, extended to the silvery stream, 
 above which there was the most varied luxuriance of 
 foliage, the lower mountains being most richly clothed 
 with woods of many and beautiful colours. It was late 
 autumn, and the trees were in their greatest variety of 
 colour ; but hardly a leaf seemed to have fallen. The 
 idark green of the pines contrasted beautifully with the 
 
KASHMIR. 291 
 
 delicate orange of the birches, because there were inter- 
 mingling tints of brown and saffron. Great masses of 
 foliage were succeeded by solitary pines, which had 
 found a footing high up the precipitous crags. 
 
 x\nd all this was combined with peaks and slopes of 
 pure white snow. Aiguilles of dark rock rose out of 
 beds of snow, but their faces were powdered with the 
 same element Glaciers and long beds of snow ran 
 clown the valleys, and the upper vegetation had snow 
 for its bed. The effect of sunset upon this scene was 
 wonderful ; for the colours it displa3-'ed were both 
 heightened and more harmoniously blended. The 
 golden light of eve brought out the warm tints of 
 the forest ; but the glow of the reddish-brown pre- 
 cipices, and the rosy light upon the snowy slopes 
 and peaks, were too soon succeeded by the cold grey 
 of evening. At first, however, the wondrous scene was 
 still visible in a quarter-moon's silvery light, in which 
 the Panjtarne valley was in truth — 
 
 " A wild romantic chasm, that slanted 
 Down the sweet hill athwart a cedar cover— 
 A savage place, as holy and enchanted 
 As e'er beneath the waning moon was haunted 
 By woman wailing for her demon-lover." 
 
 The demon-lovers to be met with in that wild valley are 
 bears, which are in abundance ; and a more delightful 
 place for a hunter to spend a month in could hardly be 
 invented ; but he would have to depend on his rifle for 
 supplies, or have them sent up from many miles down 
 the Sind valley. 
 
 The remainder of my journey down this latter valley 
 to the great valley or small plain of Kashmir was de- 
 lightful. A good deal of rain fell, but that made one 
 appreciate the great trees all the more, for the rain was 
 not continuous, and was mingled with sunshine. At 
 
292 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 times, during the season when I saw it, this "inlanc! 
 depth " is " roaring like the sea ; " 
 
 " While trees, dim-seen, in frenzied numbers tear 
 The lingering remnant of tlieir yellow hair ;" 
 
 but soon after it is bathed in perfect peace and melloAV 
 sunlight. The air was soft and balmy ; but, at this 
 transfer from September to October, it was agreeably 
 cool even to a traveller from the abodes and sources of 
 snow. As Ave descended, the pine-forests were confined 
 to the mountain-slopes; but the lofty deodar began to 
 appear in the valley, as afterwards the sycamore, the 
 elm, and the horse-chestnut. Round the picturesque 
 villages, and even forming considerable woods, there 
 were fruit-trees — as the walnut, the chestnut, the peach, 
 the apricot, the apple, and the pear.' Large quantities 
 of timber (said to be cut recklessly) was in course of 
 being floated down the river ; and Avhere the path led 
 across it, there were curious wooden bridges, for which it 
 was not necessary to dismount. This Sind valley is 
 about sixty miles long, and varies in breadth from a few 
 hundred yards to about a mile, except at its base, where 
 it opens out considerabh\ It is considered to afford 
 the best idea of the mingled beauty and grandeur of 
 Kashmir scenery ; and when I passed through, its 
 appearance was greatly enhanced by the snow, which 
 not only covered the mountain tops, but also came 
 down into the forests which clothed the mountain- 
 sides. The path through it, being part of the great 
 road from Kashmir to Central Asia, is kept in tolerable 
 repair, and it is very rarely that the rider requires to 
 dismount. Anything beyond a walking pace, however, 
 is for the most part out of the question. Montgomerie 
 divides the journey from Srinagar to Baltal (where I 
 camped below the Zoji-la) into six marches, making in 
 
KASHMIR. 29: 
 
 all sixty-seven miles ; and though two of these marches 
 may be done in one day, yet if you are to travel easily 
 and enjoy the scenery, one a day is sufficient. The 
 easiest double march is from Sonamarg to Gond, and I 
 did it in a day with apparent ease on a very poor pony ; 
 but the consequence is that I beat my brains in vain in 
 order to recall what sort of place Gond was, no distinct 
 recollection of it having been left on my mind except of 
 a grove of large trees and a roaring fire in front of my 
 tent at night. Sonamarg struck me as a very pleasant 
 place ; and I had there, in the person of a youthful 
 captain from Abbotabad, the pleasure of meeting the 
 first European I had seen since leaving Laliaul. We 
 dined together, and I found he had come up from 
 Srinagar to see Sonamarg, and he spoke witli great 
 enthusiasm of a view he had had, from another part of 
 Kashmir, of the 26,000-feet mountain Nanga Parbat. 
 Marg means a " meadow," and seems to be applied 
 specially to elevated meadows ; sona stands for 
 "golden:" and this place is a favourite resort, in 
 the hot malarious months of July and August, both 
 for the Europeans in Kashmir, and for natives of 
 rank. The village, being composed of four houses and 
 three outlying ones, cannot produce much in the way 
 of either coolies or supplies. Its commercial ideas 
 may be gathered from the fact that I was here asked 
 seven rupees for a pound of tea which was nothing but 
 the refuse of tea-chests mixed with all sorts of dirt. In 
 the matter of coolies I was independent, for the bigarrics 
 who had taken my effects over the Zoji-la were so 
 afraid of being impressed for the service^of the Yarkund 
 envoy, that they had entreated me to engage them as 
 far as Ganderbahl, near the capital, hoping that by the 
 time they reached that place the fierce demand for 
 coolies might have ceased. 
 
294 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 At Ganderbahl I was fairly in the great valley of 
 Kashmir, and encamped under some enormous chundr 
 or sycamore trees ; the girth of one was so great that 
 its trunk kept my little mountain-tent quite sheltered 
 from the furious blasts. Truly — 
 
 " There was a roaring in the wind all night, 
 The rain fell heavily, and fellin floods ;" 
 
 but that gigantic chimdr kept off both wind and rain 
 wonderfully. Next day a small but convenient and 
 quaint Kashmir boat took me up to Srinagar ; and it 
 was delightful to glide up the backwaters of the Jhelam, 
 which afforded a highway to the capital. It was the 
 commencement and the promise of repose, which I very 
 seriously needed, and in a beautiful land. 
 
 As Srinagar, where I stayed for a fortnight, I was the 
 guest of the Resident, the amiable and accomplished 
 Mr Le Poer Wynne, whose early death has disappointed 
 many bright hopes. I had thus every opportunity of 
 seeing all that could be seen about the capital, and of 
 making myself acquainted with the state of affairs in 
 Kashmir. I afterwards went up to Islamabad, Martand, 
 Achibal, Vernag, the Rozlii valley, and finally went out 
 of Kashmir by way of the Manas and Wular lakes, and 
 the lower valley of the Jhelam, so that I saw the most 
 interesting places in the country, and all the varieties 
 of scenery which it affords.. That country has been so 
 often visited and described, that, with one or two 
 exceptions, I shall only touch generally upon its 
 characteristics. It doubtless owes some of its charm to 
 the character of the regions in its neighbourhood. As 
 compared with the burning plains of India, the sterile 
 steppes of Tibet, and the savage mountains of the Him- 
 aliya and of Afghanistan, it presents an astonishing 
 and beautiful contrast. After such scenes even a much 
 
KASHMIR. 295 
 
 more commonplace country might have afforded a good 
 deal of the enthusiasm which Kashmir has excited in 
 Eastern poetry, and even in common rumour ; but be- 
 yond that it has characteristics which give it a distinct 
 place among the most pleasing regions of the earth. I 
 said to the Maharajah, or ruling Prince of Kashmir, that 
 the most beautiful countries I had seen were England, 
 Italy, Japan, and Kashmir; and though he did not 
 seem to like the remark much, probably from a fear that 
 the beauty of the land he governed might make it too 
 much an object of desire, yet there was no exaggeration 
 in it. Here, at a height of nearly 6000 feet, in a tem- 
 perate climate, with abundance of moisture, and yet 
 protected by lofty mountains from the fierce continuous 
 rains of the Indian south-west monsoon, we have the 
 most splendid amphitheatre in the world. A flat oval 
 valley about sixty miles long, and from forty in breadth, 
 is surrounded by magnificent mountains, which, during 
 the greater part of the year, are covered more than half- 
 way down with snow, and present vast upland beds 01 
 pure white snow. This valley has fine lakes, is inter- 
 sected with watercourses, and its land is covered with 
 brilliant vegetation, including gigantic trees of the richest 
 foliage. And out of this great central valley there rise 
 innumerable, long, picturesque mountain-valleys, such 
 as that of the Sind river, which I have just described ; 
 while above these there are great pine-forests, green 
 slopes of grass, glaciers, and snow. Nothing could 
 express the general effect better than Moore's famous 
 lines on sainted Lebanon — 
 
 " Whose head in wintry grandeur tower% 
 
 And whitens with eternal sleet ; 
 While Summer, in a vale of flowers, 
 Is sleeping rosy at his feet." 
 
 The great encircling walls of rock and snow contrast 
 
296 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 grandly with the soft beauty of the scene beneath. The 
 snows have a wonderful effect as we look up to them 
 through the leafy branches of the immense chundr, elm, 
 and poplar trees. They flash gloriously in the morning 
 sunlight above the pink mist of the valley-plain ; they 
 have a rosy glow in the evening sunlight; and when 
 the sunliglit has departed, but ere darkness shrouds 
 them, they gleam afar off, with a cold and spectral light, 
 as if they belonged to a region where man had never 
 trod. The deep black gorges in the mountains have a 
 mysterious look. The sun lights up some softer grassy 
 ravine or green slope, and tiien displays splintered rocks 
 rising in the wildest confusion. Often long lines of 
 white clouds lie along the line of' mountain-summits, 
 while at other times every white peak and precipice- 
 wall is distinctly marked against the deep-blue sky. 
 The valley-plain is especially striking in clear mornings 
 and evenings, when it lies partly in golden sunlight, 
 partly in the shadow of its great hills. 
 
 The green mosaic of the level land is intersected by 
 many streams, canals, and lakes, or beautiful reaches of 
 river which look like small lakes. The lakes have 
 floating islands composed of vei^etation. Besides the 
 immense cJnindrs and elms, and the long lines of stately 
 poplars, great part of the plain is a garden filled with 
 fruits and flowers, and there is almost constant verdure. 
 
 " There eternal summer dwells, 
 And west winds, with musky wing, 
 About the cedared alleys fling 
 Nard and cassia's balmy smells." 
 
 It is a pity that so beautiful a country should not 
 have a finer population. At the entrances of the valle\'s, 
 looking at the forests, the rich uncultivated lands, and 
 the unused water-power, I could not but think of the 
 scenes in Ensjland — 
 
KASHMIR. 297 
 
 " Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride, 
 And brighter streams than famed Hydaspes* glide." 
 
 My mind reverted also to the flashing snows of the 
 American Sierra Nevada, the dwarf oaks and rich 
 fields of wheat, the chubby children, the comely, well- 
 dressed women, and the strong stalwart men of Cali- 
 fornia. For though the chalets were picturesque enough 
 at a little distance, they could not bear a close examina- 
 tion ; and there was not much satisfaction to be had in 
 contemplating the half-starved, half-naked children, and 
 the thin, worn-out-looking women. One could not help 
 thinking of the comfortable homey which an Anglo- 
 Saxon population would rear in such a land. 
 
 The beauty of the Kashmir women has long been 
 famous in the East, but if you want beautiful Kashmiris, 
 do not go to Kashmir to look for them. The)' have all 
 fine eyes, and "the eyes of Kashmir' have been justly 
 celebrated in Eastern poetry; but that is almost the only 
 feminine attraction to be found in the country, even 
 among th*e dancing-girls and the boat-girls. As to the 
 ordinary women, there is too much sad truth in Victor 
 Jacquemont's outburst against them — " Know that I 
 have never seen anywhere such hideous witches as in, 
 Kashmir. [He had not been in Tibet !] The female race 
 is remarkably ugly. I speak of women of the common 
 ranks — those one sees in the streets and fields — since 
 those of a more elevated station pass all their lives shut 
 up, and are never seen. It is true that all little girls who 
 promise to turn out pretty are sold at eight years of age, 
 and carried off into the Panjab and India." I am afraid 
 a good deal of that traffic still goes on, notwithstanding 
 the law which forbids women and mares to be taken 
 out of the country ; and as it has gone on for genera- 
 
 * The Jhelam. 
 
298 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 tions, it is easily explicable how the women of Kashmir 
 should be so ugly. A continuous process of eliminating 
 the pretty girls, and leaving the ugly ones to continue 
 the race, must lower the standard of beauty. But the 
 want of good condition strikes one more painfully in 
 Kashmir than the want of beauty. The aquiline noses, 
 long chins, and long faces of the women of Kashmir, 
 would allow only of a peculiar and rather Jewish style 
 of beauty ; but even that is not brought out well by the 
 state of their physique ; and I don't suppose the most 
 beautiful woman in the Avorld would show to advan- 
 tage if she were imperfectly washed, and dressed in the 
 ordinary feminine attire of Kashmir — a dirty, whitish 
 cotton niglit-gown. 
 
 It is unfortunate for the reputation of Kashmir that 
 a sudden death, not entirely free from suspicious cir- 
 cumstances, should have befallen three of our country- 
 men who had distinguished themselves by exposing the 
 abuses existing in the country ; and it is at least remark- 
 able that suspicion on the subject should fiave been 
 roused by the Kashmiris themselves — that is to say, by 
 reports generally current in Srinagar. I allude to Lieu- 
 tenant Thorpe, Dr Elms-lie, and MrHayward. The first 
 of these gentlemen had published a pamphlet entitled 
 "Kashmir Misgovernment ;" and in November 1868, 
 when almost all visitors except himself had left Kash- 
 mir for the season, he expired suddenly at Srinagar, 
 after having walked up the Takht-i-Suliman, a hill which 
 rises close to tlie city to the height of a thousand feet. 
 Naturally the supposition was that he had been poi- 
 soned ; but Surgeon Caley, who happened to be on his 
 way down from Ladak, examined the bod}' shortly after 
 death, and reported that there had been "rupture of the 
 heart." Dr Elmslie was a devoted medical missionary, 
 who did an immense deal of good in Kashmir, and had 
 
KASHMIR. 299 
 
 published a valuable vocabulary of the Kashmiri lan- 
 guage ; but he had also published letters complaining of 
 the carelessness of the Government in regard to a visi- 
 tation of cholera which had carried off large numbers of 
 the people, and pointing out that sanitary measures 
 might save the lives of thousands every year from small- 
 pox and other diseases. The Srinagar rumour was that 
 his servants had been offered so much to' poison him 
 within the Kashmir territory, and so much more if they 
 would do so after he got beyond. Unfortunately Dr 
 Elmslie also died rather s\iddenly shortly after he had 
 got beyond the Kashmir borders, and, it seems, also of 
 heart disease. Mr Hayward had published letters in 
 the Indian papers complaining of the conduct of the 
 Kashmir troops in Gilgit, and on the borders of Yassin, 
 and he somewhat injudiciously returned to that part of 
 the world. But I do not attach any importance to the 
 gossip of Eastern cities — or of any cities, for that matter ; 
 and there has appeared no ground to suppose that his 
 death was planned by Kashmir officials, but what befell 
 him was very sad. He was on his way to the Pamir 
 Steppe, and somewhere about Yassin was in the terri- 
 tory of a chief who camped two hundred armed men in 
 a wood near his tent. The next day's journey would 
 have taken Hayward beyond this chief's border ; and, 
 suspecting mischief, he sat up all night writing with 
 revolver in hand. Unfortunately, however, in the grey 
 of the morning, he lay down to take half an hour's sleep 
 before starting; and the chief with his people came 
 down on him then, overpowered him, tied his hands be- 
 hind his back and took him into the wood. Here, seeing 
 preparations made for putting him to death, the unfor- 
 tunate traveller offered a ransom for his life ; but his 
 captors would not hear of it. They made him kneel 
 down, and, while he was offering up a prayer, they 
 
300 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 hacked off his head after the half-hackuTo- half-sawincj 
 way they have of kiUiiij- sheep in the Himaliya. How 
 this story was gathered has been told in the JoiLrnal 
 of the Royal Geographical Society, and tolerably correct 
 accounts of such incidents get abroad in even the wildest 
 parts of the East, The moral of it is, that one ought to 
 avoid Yassin, rather tha,n that it is dangerous to abuse 
 the Kashmir Government ; but it is no wonder that the 
 three cases just mentioned should have given rise to 
 suspicions when we consider the character of the people, 
 and the powerful motives which the native officials have 
 in preventing any outcry being raised against them. 
 
 Many hundred years ago. the Chinese traveller Fa- 
 Hain spoke of the people of Kashmir as being of a 
 peculiarly bad character, Ranji't Singh said to Sir 
 Alexander Burnes, " All the people I send into Kash- 
 mir turn out rascals {Jianiinzadd) ; there is too much 
 pleasure and enjoyment in that country." Moorcroft 
 described them as " selfish, superstitious, ignorant, sup- 
 ple, intriguing, dishonest, and false." A more recent 
 traveller, Dr A. L. Adams, the naturalist, says of them, 
 " Everywhere in Cashmere you see the inhabitants indo- 
 lent to a degree, filthy in tlieir habits, mean, cowardly, 
 shabby, irresolute, and indifferent to all ideas of reform or 
 progress." Their name has become a byword through- 
 out a great part of all Asia. Even where there are so 
 many deceitful nations, they have obtained a bad pre- 
 eminence. According to a well-known Persian saying, 
 "you will never experience anything but sorrow and 
 anxiety from the Kashmiri." When these people got 
 this bad name is lost in antiquity, and so is the period 
 when they first passed into the unfortunate circumstances 
 which have demoralised them. They are, however, not 
 unattractive, being an intellectual people, and charac- 
 terised by great ingenuity and sprightliness. I cannot 
 
KASHMIR. 301 
 
 deny the truth of the accusations brought against them, 
 yet I could not but pity them and sympathise witli 
 them. I tliink also that tliey have the elements of what, 
 in more fortunate circumstances, might be a very fine 
 character ; but dwelling in a fertile and beautiful valley, 
 surrounded by hardy and warlike tribes, they have for 
 ages been subject to that oppression which destro}'s 
 national hope and virtue. Their population has hardly 
 been large enough to afford effectual resistance to the 
 opposing forces, though, unless there had been a large 
 element of weakness in their character, they might surely 
 have held their passes ; and, at the same time, they were 
 too many in numbers to retire, for a time, before in- 
 vaders, from their fertile lands into their mountain fast- 
 nesses. As it is, they are abominably used and they 
 use each other abominably. It seemed to me that every 
 common soldier of the Maharajah of Kashmir felt himself 
 entitled to beat and plunder the country people ; but I 
 noticed that my boatmen tried to do the same whea 
 they thought they were unobserved by me. The Maha- 
 rajah himself holds an open court on one day every week, 
 at which the mieanest peasant is nominally free to make 
 his complaint, even if it be against the highest officials ; 
 but I was told, by very good authority, that this source 
 of redress was practically inoperative, not because the 
 Maharajah was .unwilling to do justice, but because there 
 was such a system of terrorism that the common people 
 dared not come forward to complain. Great improve- 
 iftents have already been made under the present ruler 
 of Kashmir; but he is one man among many, and when 
 a corrupt and oppressive officialdom has existed in a 
 country for ages, it cannot be rooted out in one reign. 
 
 Our position in Kashmir is a very curious one, and 
 reflects little credit upon the British name. By the 
 Treaty of Amritsar, concluded in 1846 after the first 
 
302 THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 Panjab war, we actually sold the country to Golab 
 Singh, the father of the present Maharajah, for seventy- 
 five lacs of rupees, or rather less than three-quarters 
 of a million sterling ; but so little welcome Avas he, 
 that the first troops he sent up were driven out of the 
 country, and lT,e was enabled to establish himself in it 
 only by claiming the assistance of the Indian Govern- 
 ment, and getting from it an order that the existing 
 Governor was to yield obedience to the new sovereign, 
 or to consider himself an enemy of the British Govern- 
 ment. No doubt we wanted the money very much at 
 the time, miserable sum as it was, and only double the 
 revenue which Ranji't Singh drew in one year from 
 Kashmir. It is possible, too, that there may have been 
 some policy in thus making a friend of one of the chiefs 
 of the Khalsa ; but the transaction was not an advisable 
 one. Of all India and its adjacent countries, Kashmir 
 is the district best suited for Europeans, and it affords 
 large room for English colonisation. It has now a 
 population of about half a million ; but it had formerly 
 one of four millions, and it could easily support that 
 number. It has an immense amount of fertile land 
 lying waste in all the vallej^s, and it would have been 
 just the place for the retirement of Anglo-Indians at 
 the close of their periods of service. As it is, Kashmir 
 is practically closed to us except as a place of resort for 
 a few summer visitors. Probably the visitors would be 
 a good deal worse off than they are at present if it were 
 under British rule ; but that is not a matter of much 
 importance. The Maharajah acknowledges the supre- 
 macy of the British Government, and yet no Englishman 
 can settle in the country or purchase a foot of land in it. 
 We are not even allowed to stay there through the 
 winter ; for a recent relaxation of this rule has been 
 much misunderstood, and simply amounts to a permis- 
 
KASHMIR. 
 
 303 
 
 sion for British officers, who cannot get leave in summer, 
 to visit Kashmir in winter. Visitors have to leave the 
 country about the middle of October, and the Panjab 
 Government has issued very strict rules for their guid- 
 ance while they are in the Valley. After mentioning 
 the four authorised routes for European visitors to 
 Kashmir, the first rule goes on to say (the italics are its 
 own), ''All other roads are positively forbidden ; and, in 
 respect to the direct road from Jummoo (known as the 
 Bunnihal route), the prohibition has been ordered at the 
 special request of his Highness the Maharajah. The 
 road branching from Rajaoree by Aknoer, which is 
 used by the Maharajah's family and troops, is also 
 expressly prohibited." Now this Jamu and Banihal 
 route is by much the shortest and much the easiest 
 route to Kashmir, except for the small section of visitors 
 who come from that part of the Panjab which lies to 
 the west of the Jhelam ; and yet it is kept closed, at 
 the Maharajah's special request, though another route 
 is set apart for the movements between Srinagar and 
 Jamu of his family and troops ! In fact, by this order, 
 in-order to get a tolerable route, the traveller has to 
 cross great part of the Panjab and go up by Rawal 
 Pindi and Mari, for neither the Pir Panjal nor the 
 Punah routes are convenient. In Rule II. we are told 
 that every officer about to visit Kashmir " should en- 
 gage, before proceeding, a sufficient number of ponies 
 or mules for the conveyance of his baggage ; " which is 
 tantamount to saying that no one need put in a claim 
 for getting any coolies, ponies, or mules by the v/ay. 
 In Rule VI. they are told to encamp only at the fixed 
 stages and encamping-grounds. In Rule X. it is said 
 that " when going out on shooting excursions, visitors 
 are to take carriage and supplies with them." Rule 
 XV. is amusing, considering the high moral tone of 
 
304 THE ABODE OF SNO IV. 
 
 the British subaltern : " Officers are not allowed to 
 take away with them, either in. their service, or with 
 their camps, any subjects of the Maharajah, without 
 obtaining permission and a passport from the author- 
 ities." I have heard of one visitor who tried to talce 
 away a Kashmiri damsel by putting lier in a ki/fa, 
 or wicker-basket used for Garr\-ing loads in, but the 
 smuggling -was detected. This rule does not prevent 
 the bagnios all over India being filled with Kashmiri 
 women ; and a regular slave-traffic goes on, most of the 
 good-looking girls being taken out of Kashmir at an 
 early age; but, of course, the morals of the British 
 officer must be looked after. He is also by Rule XVI. 
 made responsible for the debts incurred by his servants, 
 which is rather hard, as most Indians make a rule of 
 getting into debt up to the full amount of their credit. 
 In Rule XVII. , all visitors are told, in italics, "All 
 presents to be refused. Presents of every description 
 must be rigidl)^ refused." This certainly is interfering 
 in an extraordinary way with the liberty of the subject; 
 but let the visitor beware how he violates any of these 
 rules, because the Resident at Srinagar has the power 
 of expelling him from the country. It is the Panjab, 
 not the supreme Government, which is directly respon- 
 sible for these extraordinary regulations; and I daresay 
 English people will be rather surprised by them. Tiie 
 Maharajah of Kashmir is called in them "an indepei> 
 dent sovereign;" but it is distinctly stated in Article X. 
 of the Treaty which gave him his dominions, tiiat he 
 "acknowledges the supremacy of the I^ritish Govern- 
 ment." Can the Panjab Government not understand 
 that when the power of England guarantees the safety 
 of the Maharajah and of his dominions, it is not for 
 British officials to treat British visitors to Kashmir in 
 so derogatory a manner, or to allow of their being 
 
KASHMIR. 30? 
 
 turned out of the country ever}^ winter, and refused 
 permission to purchase even waste land ? This is only 
 one of many subjects which may render it necessary 
 to raise the questions, — In whose interest, on whose 
 authority, and supported by what power, does Anglo- 
 Indian officialdom exist? The imperial interests of 
 Great Britain have been too much lost sight of, and it is 
 on these that the real, the vital interests of the people of 
 India depend. 
 
 The Resident procured me a private audience of the 
 Maharajah Ranbir or Runbir Singh, which was given 
 in a balcon}% overhanging the river, of his city palace, 
 within the precincts of which there is a tenTple Avith a 
 large pagoda-like roof that is covered with thin plates 
 of pure gold. His Highness is reputed to be somewhat 
 serious and bigoted as regards his religion. It was men- 
 tioned in the Indian papers a few years ago, that the 
 Brahmins having discovered that the soul of his father, 
 Golab Singh, had migrated into the body of a fish, Ran- 
 bir Singh gave orders that no fish were to be killed in 
 Kashmir, though fish is there one of the great staple 
 articles of food among the poorer classes. The edict, 
 however, was calculated to cause so much distress, that 
 the Brahmins soon announced that the paternal spirit 
 had taken some other form. I never heard this story 
 contradicted ; and it affords a curious instance of the 
 reality of the belief in transmigration which exists in 
 India. As the character of these transmigrations, and 
 the amount of suffering and enjoyment which they 
 involve, is considered to depend on the good or evil 
 conduct of preceding lives, and especially of those which 
 are passed in a human form, such a belief would be 
 calculated to exercise an important influence for good, 
 were it not for the sacrificial theory which attaches so 
 much importance, as good works, to sacrifices to the 
 
 u 
 
3o6 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 gods, and to gifts to their priestly ministers; and its 
 beneficial effect is also lessened by the tendency of the 
 Indian mind to assign an undue value to indiscriminate 
 acts of charity, such as often do harm^rather than good. 
 It is curious to think of a Maharajah looking from his 
 balcony beside his golden temple into the waters of the 
 Jhelam, and wondering whether his royal father is one 
 of the big or of the little fishes floating about in its 
 stream or in some adjacent water. 
 
 Some visitors to Kashmir have blamed its ruler 
 severely for the condition of the country — as, for in- 
 stance, Dr Adams, who says : " It is vain, however, to 
 hope that there can be any progress under the present 
 ruler, who, like his father, is bent on self-aggrandise- 
 ment.'""' This, however, is entirely opposed to the sub- 
 stance of many conversations I had on the subject with 
 Mr Wynne, who seemed to. regard his Highness as one 
 of the very few honest men there were in the country, 
 sincerely anxious for the welfare of its inhabitants ; and 
 he mentioned to me various circumstances which sup- 
 ported that conclusion. Without going beyond diplo- 
 matic reserve, he said it was only to be hoped that the 
 Maharajah's sons would follow their father's example. I 
 do not profess to see into a millstone farther than other 
 people, but may say that the little I saw of this prince 
 conveyed a superficial impression quite in accordance 
 with Mr Wynne's opinion. He seemed an earnest, over- 
 burdened man, seriously anxious to fulfil the duties of 
 his high position, and heavily weighed down by them ; 
 but it can easily be conceived how little he can do in 
 a country which has been from time immemorial in so 
 wretched a state, and how much reason he ma\' have 
 
 * "Wanderings of a Naturalist in India." By A. L. Adams, M.D. 
 Edinburgh, 1S67. P. 296. 
 
KASHMIR. 307 
 
 for wishing that he were expiating his shortcomings in 
 the form of a fish. _ And it should not be forgotten that 
 this prince was faithful to us, and in a very useful 
 manner, at the time of the great Indian Mutiny ; for he 
 sent six battalions of infantry, two squadrons of cavalry, 
 and a battery of guns, to assist us at the siege of Delhi; 
 and, by this, considerable moral support was afforded at 
 the moment to the British Raj. I met, going down the 
 Jhelam, a Kashmir regiment which had been at the siege 
 of Delhi, and the officer in command spoke with some 
 pride, but by no means in a boasting or offensive wa}', 
 of his having fought along with English troops. 
 
 Among the improvements introduced by Ranbir 
 Singh are those in the administration of justice and the 
 manufacture of silk. The Chief-Justice of the court of 
 Srinagar is an educated native, I think from Bengal, 
 who was well spoken of — and, absurdly enough, is in 
 charge of the- silk department also. He has been at 
 pains to make himself acquainted with the breeding of 
 silk-worms and the spinning of their cocoons, as pursued 
 in other countries, and has turned this knowledge to 
 good account in Srinagar. One pleasing and extra- 
 ordinary innovation which he has been able to introduce 
 is that of inducing children and others of the Brahmin 
 caste to engage in the spinning of silk. Anything like 
 such an occupation has hitherto been considered as de- 
 grading, and forbidden to Brahmins, and has not been 
 entered on by those even in such advanced Indian cities 
 as Calcutta and Bombay. It shows a curious Avay of 
 managing matters ' that the Chief-Justice of Srinagar 
 should also be the head of the silk department ;' but 
 such is, or at least very lately was, the case ; and under 
 his management sericulture has been improved and de- 
 veloped. In 1 87 1, the Maharajah set apart ;^ 30,000 for 
 the development of this branch of industry, and part of 
 
3'-;8 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 the sum was expended on the construction of buildings 
 in which an equal temperature could be maintained for 
 the silk-worms. I saw the process of extracting and 
 winding the silk in the factory beside Srinagar : it was 
 skilfully conducted, and the threads produced . were 
 remarkably fine and perfect. The mulberry trees of 
 Kashmir have hitherto enjoyed exemption from disease 
 and injury from insects, so that the prospects of -this 
 production are very good, and a commencement has 
 been made in weaving the silk into cloth. The whole 
 production is a monopoly of Government ; but it gives 
 increasing employment to a considerable number of 
 persons, on what, for Kashmir, are good wages. In 
 1872 the amount of dry cocoons produced amounted to 
 57,600 lbs., and the resulting revenue was estimated at 
 124,000 chilki rupees, a portion of it, however, being re- 
 quired for the improvements which were made. 
 
 The famous shawls of Kashmir are now somewhat at 
 a discount in the world, except in France, where they 
 still form a portion of almost every bride's trousseau, 
 and where, at least in novels, every lady of the demi- 
 inonde is described as wrapped in un vrai Cachemere, and 
 wearing a pair of Turkish slippers. France alone takes 
 about 80 per cent, of the Kashmir shawls exported from 
 Asia; the United States of America take 10, Italy 5, 
 Russia 2, and Great Britain and Germany only i per 
 cent each. Of course the late war almost entirely de- 
 stroyed the shawl trade, but it has for the time being 
 returned to its former state ; and, at the period of 
 collapse, the Maharajah humaneh^ made enormous pur- 
 chases on his own account. The revenue from this 
 source has diminished to at least half what it was some 
 years ago ; but still a superior woven shawl will bring, 
 even in Kashmir, as much as ;:^300 sterling; and about 
 iJ"i 30,000 worth of shawls is annualh' exported, ;^90,0G0 
 
KASHMIR. 309 
 
 worth going to Europe. The finest of the goat's wool 
 employed in this manufacture comes from Turfan, in 
 the Yarkund territory ; and it is only on the wind-swept 
 steppes of Central Asia that animals are found to pro- 
 duce so fine a wool. The shawl-weavers get miserable 
 wages, and are allowed neither to leave Kashmir nor 
 change their employment, so that they are nearly in the 
 position of slaves ; and their average wage is only about 
 three-halfpence a day. 
 
 Srinagar itself has a very fine appearance when one 
 does not look closely into its details. As the Kashmiri 
 has been called the Neapolitan of the East, so his capital 
 has been compared to Florence, and his great river to 
 the Arno. But there is no European town which has 
 such a fine placid sweep of river through it. The capital 
 dates from 59 A.D., and portions of it might be set down 
 to any conceivable date. For the most part, the houses 
 either rise up from the Jhelam or from the canals with 
 which the city is intersected, and are chiefly of thin brick 
 walls supported in wooden frames. Being often three 
 storeys high, and in a most ruinous condition, the walls 
 present anything but straight lines, and it is a marvel that 
 many of the houses continue standing at all. Some of 
 the canals present deliciously picturesque scenes, such 
 as even Venice cannot boast of, and the view from any 
 of the five bridges across the Jhelam is very striking ; 
 but, as remarked, it is better to leave the interior un- 
 visited beyond floating through the canals. The British 
 Residency, and the bungalows provided free of charge 
 for European visitors, are above the city, on the right 
 bank of the river, which here presents a noble appear- 
 ance, and in a splendid line of poplar-trees. A wooded 
 island opposite them adds to the beauty of the scene.. 
 Almost every place about Srinagar that one wants to 
 go to can be reached by boat, and the wearied traveller 
 may enjoy a delicious repose. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SC£NES IN KASHMIR. 
 
 I MUST now refer briefly to a few more picturesque 
 places in that beautiful country. There is one ex- 
 cursion from Srinagar, which can easily be made in a 
 day by boat, that is specially worthy of notice, and 
 it takes through canals and through the apple-tree 
 garden into the Dal-o City Lake, and to two of the 
 gardens and summer-houses of the Mogul Emperors. 
 I write on the shore of Ulleswater, at once the grandest 
 and most beautiful of the English lakes : the moun- 
 tains and sky are reflected with perfect distinctness 
 in the deep unruffled water, and the renewed power of 
 the earth is running up through the trees, and breaking 
 out into a dim mist of buds and tiny leaves ; but ex- 
 quisite as the scene before me is, its beauty cannot 
 dim or equal my remembrance of the lakes of Kashmir, 
 though even to these the English scenery is superior as 
 regards the quality, to use a phrase of Wordsworth's, of 
 being " graduated by nature into soothing harmony." 
 
 The Dal is connected with the Jhelam by the Sont-i- 
 Kol or Apple-tree Canal, which presents one of the finest 
 combinations of wood and water in the world. The 
 scene is English in character ; but I do not know of any 
 river scene in England which is equal to it — so calm is 
 •the water, so thickly is the stream covered with tame 
 aquatic birds of very varied plumage, so abundant the 
 fish, so magnificent, as well as beautiful, the trees which 
 
SCENES IN KASHMIR. 311 
 
 rise from its lotus-fringed, smooth, green banks. An 
 Afghan conqueror of Kashmir proposed to cover this 
 piece of water with a trellis-work of vines, supported 
 from the trees on the one side to those on the other ; 
 but that would have shut out the view of the high, wild 
 mountains, which heighten, by their contrast, the beauty 
 and peacefulness of the scene below. Many of the trees, 
 and a whole line of them on one side, are enormous 
 planes {Platanus orieiitalis\ mountains of trees, and yet 
 beautiful in shape and colour, with their vast masses of 
 foliage reflected in the calm, clear water. 
 
 From thence we pass into the Dal, a lake about five 
 miles long, with half the distance in breadth, one side 
 being bounded by great trees, or fading into a reedy 
 waste, and the other encircled by lofty mountains. The 
 most curious feature of this lake is the floating gardens 
 upon the surface of its transparent water. The reeds, 
 sedges, water-lilies, and other aquatic plants which grow 
 together in tangled confusion, are, when they cluster 
 together more thickly than usual, detached from their 
 roots. The leaves of the plants are then spread out 
 over the stem.s and covered with soil, on which melons 
 and cucumbers are grown. These floating islands form 
 a curious and picturesque feature in the landscape, and 
 their economical uses are considerable. Moorcroft men- 
 tions having seen vines upon them, and has supplied the 
 detailed information regarding them which has been 
 made use of by succeeding travellers and statisticians. 
 "A more economical method of raising cucumbers can- 
 not be devised," — and, he might have added, of melons 
 also. According to Cowper — 
 
 " No sordid fare, 
 A cucumber ! " 
 
 But, thanks to these floating gardens, you don't require 
 to ruin yourself in order to eat cucumbers in Kashmir ; 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 and the melons are as good as they are cheap, and must 
 liave valuable properties ; for Captain Bates says, "those 
 who live entirely on them soon become fat," which pro- 
 bably arises from the sugar they contain. Usually, in 
 the fruit season, two or three watchers remain all night in 
 a boat attached to these islands, in order to protect them 
 from water-thieves. On the Dal I came across several 
 boatmen fishing up the root of the lotus with iron hooks 
 attached to long poles. This yellow root is not unpalat- 
 able raw, but is usually eaten boiled, along with condi- 
 ments. Southey's lines, though strictly applicable only 
 to the red-flowering lotus, yet suggest a fair idea of the 
 lotus-leaves on this Kashmir lake, as they are moved by 
 the wind or the undulations of the water. 
 
 " Around the lotus stem 
 It rippled, and the sacred flowers, that crown 
 The lakelet with their roseate beauty, ride 
 In gentlest waving, rocked from side to side ; 
 And as the wind upheaves 
 
 Their broad and l>iioyant weight, the glossy leaves 
 Flap on the twinkling waters up and down." 
 
 Still more useful for the people of Kashmir, as an 
 article of diet, is the horned water-nut {Traba bispinosa), 
 which is ground into flour, and made into bread. No 
 less than 60,000 tons of it are said to be taken from the 
 Wiilar Lake alone every season, or sufficient to supply 
 about 13,000 people with food for the entire year. These 
 nuts are to be distinguished from the nuts, or rather 
 beans, of the lotus {Nclumbhun spccioswii)^ which are 
 also used as- an article of food, and prized as a delicacy. 
 These, with the lotus-roots, and the immense quantity 
 of fish, provide abundance of food for a much larger 
 population than is to be found in the neighbourhood of 
 the Kashmir lakes ; but of what avail is such bountv of 
 
SCENES IN KASHMIR. 313 
 
 Providence when the first conditions of human pros- 
 perity are wanting ? 
 
 Passing the Silver Island and the Island of Chunars, 
 I went up to the Shalimar Bagh, or Garden of Delight, 
 a garden and pleasure-house, the work of the Emperor 
 Jehangi'r and of his spouse Nur Jahan ; but fine as this 
 place' is, I preferred the Nishat Bagh, or Garden of Plea- 
 sure, which is more in a recess of the lake, and also was 
 a retreat constructed by the same ro3'al pair, and planned 
 by the Empress herself. The Garden of. Pleasure is 
 more picturesquely situated, though shaded by not less 
 magnificent trees. The mountains rise up close behind 
 it, and suggest a safe retreat both from the dangers and 
 the cares of state ; and its view of the lake, hicluding 
 the Sona Lank, or Golden Island, is more suggestive of 
 seclusion and quiet enjoyment. Ten terraces, bounded 
 by magnificent trees, and with a stream of water falling 
 over them, lead up to the latticed pavilion at the end of 
 this garden. Between the double storeys of this pavilion 
 the stream flows through a marble, or, at least, a lime- 
 stone tank, and the structure is shaded by great cJiundr 
 trees, while, through a vista of their splendid foliage, we 
 look down the terraces and watercourses upon the lake 
 below. This was, and still is, a fitting place in which a 
 great, luxurious, and pleasure-loving emperor might find 
 repose, and gather strength for the more serious duties 
 of power. Jehangir was a strange but intelligible cha- 
 racter. One historian briefly says of him — " Himself 
 a drunkard during his whole life, he punished all who 
 used wine." And after the unsuccessful rebellion of his 
 son Khusru, he made that prince pass along a line of 
 700 of his friends who had assisted him in rebelling. 
 These friends were all seated upon spikes — in fact, they 
 were impaled ; so we may see it was not without good 
 reason that Jehangir occasionally sought for secluded 
 
314 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 places of retirement. But these characteristics, taken 
 alone, give an unfair idea of this great ruler. Though 
 he never entirely shook off the dipsomaniac habits which 
 he had formed at an early age, yet it may have been an 
 acute sense of the inconvenience of them which made 
 him so anxious to prevent any of his subjects from 
 falling into the snare ; he hints an opinion that though 
 his own head might stand liquor without much damage, 
 it by no means followed that other people's heads could 
 do so ; and the severe punishment of the adherents of a 
 rebellious son was, in his time, almost necessary to secure 
 the throne. He did, in fact, love mercy as well as do 
 justice, and was far from being a bad ruler. He was 
 wont to say that he would rather lose all the rest of his 
 empire than Kashmir ;* and it is likely that in this and 
 similar gardens he enjoyed the most pleasure which his 
 life afforded. His companion there was Mihrunnisa 
 Khanam, better known as Nur Jahan, "the Light of the 
 World." t When a }-oung prince he had seen and loved 
 her, but they were separated by circumstances ; and it 
 was not until after the death of her husband, Sher 
 Afkan, and he had overcome her dread of marrying one 
 whom she supposed to have been her husband's mur- 
 derer, that Mihrunnisa became Jehangi'r's wife, and 
 received the name of the Light of the World. A great 
 improvement in the Emperor's government resulted 
 from this union : the story is a curious illustration of 
 the abiding power of love, and it goes far to redeem 
 the character of this dissipated emperor, who would 
 allow nobody to get drunk except himself I daresay, if 
 
 * "Voyages de Francois Bernier, contenant la Description des Elats cki 
 Grand Mogol." Amsterdam, 1699. 
 
 t Slie was also, for a lime, called Nur Malial, the Light of the Palace ; 
 and under this name must be distinguislied frcm tlie queen of Jeliangir's 
 son. Shah Talidn, to wliom was raised the xvomlerful Taj Malinl at Agra. 
 
SCENES IN KASHMIR. 315 
 
 the truth were known, the Light of the World must 
 have had a sad time of it with her amorous lord ; but 
 she was at least devoted to him, and seriously risked her 
 life for him when the audacious Mahabat Khan unex- 
 pectedly made him a prisoner. The memory of these 
 faithful lovers seems still to linger about the Nishat 
 Bagh, and to have transferred itself into the imperial 
 splendour of the plane-trees, the grateful shadow of the 
 mountains, and the soft dreamy vista over the placid 
 lake. 
 
 Nearly all the English visitors had left Kashmir before 
 I reached that country, and this gave me more oppor- 
 tunity of enjoying the society of Mr Le Poer Wynne, 
 of whom I may speak more freely than of other Indian 
 officials who remain. Two or three officers, on their way 
 out of the valley, appeared at the Residency, and a 
 couple of young Englishmen, or Colonials, fresh from 
 the Antipodes, who could see little to admire in Kash- 
 mir ; but the only resident society in 5rinagar was a 
 fine Frenchman, a shawl agent, and Colonel Gardiner, 
 who commanded the Maharajah's artiller}^, a soldier of 
 fortune ninety years of age. Colonel Gardiner was 
 born on the shores of Lake Superior, and had wandered 
 into Central Asia at an early period. There was some- 
 thing almost appalling in hearing this ancient warrior 
 discourse of what have now become almost prehistoric 
 times, and relate his experiences in the service of Ranji't 
 Singh, Shah Shuja, Dost Mohammed, and other kings 
 and chiefs less known to fame. If (as I have no reason 
 to believe) he occasionally confused hearsay with his 
 own experience, it could scarcely be v.'ondered at con- 
 sidering his years, and there is no doubt as to the 
 general facts of his career. Listening to his graphic 
 narrations. Central Asia vividly appeared as it was more 
 than half a century ago, when Englishmen could traverse 
 
3i6 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 it not only with tolerable safety, but usually as honoured 
 guests. 
 
 But most usually the Resident and myself spent our 
 evenings tetc-d-tete, no one coming in except an old 
 Afghan cJmprassie, whose business it was to place logs 
 upon the fire. This Abdiel had been a sepoy, and was 
 the only man in his regiment who had remained faithful 
 at the time of the Mutiny — " among the faithless, faithful 
 only he;" and the honesty of his character extended 
 down into his smallest transactions. He took a paternal 
 but respectful interest in us, clearly seeing that the fire 
 must be kept up, though our conversation ought not to 
 be disturbed ; so he would steal into the room as quietly 
 as possible, and place logs on the fire as gently as if we 
 were dying warriors or Mogul emperors. Wynne him- 
 self was a man of very interesting mind and character, 
 being at once gentle and firm, kindly and open, yet with 
 much tact, and combining depth of thought with very 
 wide culture. When a student, he had employed his long 
 vacations in attending the universities of Germany and 
 France, and was widely acquainted with the literature, of 
 these countries, as well as able to converse fluently in 
 their languages. To the usual Oriental studies of an 
 Indian civilian, he had added a large acquaintance with 
 Persian poetry, and really loved the country to which he 
 had devoted himself, chiefly from a desire to find a more 
 satisfactory and useful career than is now open to young 
 men at home with little or no fortune. Perhaps he was 
 too much of a student, disposed to place too high a value 
 on purely moral and intellectual influences, and too much 
 given to expect that )-oung officers should renounce all 
 the follies of youth, and old fighting colonels conduct 
 themselves as if they were children of light. That sprang, 
 however, from perfect genuineness and beauty of char- 
 acter, to which all things evil, or even questionable, were 
 
- SCENES IN KASHMIR. 317 
 
 naturally repulsive ; and it was wholl}' unaccompanied 
 by any tendency to condemn others, being simply a 
 desire to encourage them towards good. There was not 
 a little of the pure and chivalrous nature of Sir Philip 
 Sidney in Le Poer W\'nne ; and he might also be com- 
 pared in character to the late Frederick Robertson ot 
 Brighton, whose sermons he spoke to me of as having 
 made quite an era in his life. European culture and 
 thought had not taught him to undervalue either the 
 methods or the results of " divine philosophy," nor had 
 his mind been overwhelmed by the modern revelations 
 of the physical universe, though he Avas well acquainted 
 with them ; and his departure from much of traditional 
 theology had only led him to value more the abiding 
 truths of religion. Our conversation related only in part 
 to the East, and ranged over many fields of politics, 
 philosophy, and literature. I cannot recall these nights 
 at Srinagar without mingled sadness and pleasure. It 
 never struck me then that we were in a house at all, but 
 rather as if we were by a camp-fire. My host had a way 
 of reclining before the fire on the floor; the flames of 
 the wood shot up brilliantly ; brown Abdiel in his sheep- 
 skin coat suggested the Indian Caucasus; and instead 
 of the gaudily-painted woodwork of the Residency, I felt 
 around us only the circle of snowy mountains, and above, 
 the shining hosts of heaven. And to both of us this was 
 a camp-fire, and an unexpected happy meeting in the 
 wilderness of life. A few months afterwards, Mr Wynne, 
 after a short run to Europe on privilege-leave, returned 
 to Calcutta, in order to take up the office of Foreign 
 Secretary during the absence of Mr Aitchison, and died 
 almost immediately after. He had not been many years 
 in the Indian Civil Service, and the highest hopes were 
 entertained of his future career. I had felt, however, in- 
 stinctively, that so fine an organisation, both mental and 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 physical, must either " die or be degraded ; " and per- 
 haps it was with some subtle, barely conscious precog- 
 nition of his early doom that Wynne rose and made a 
 note of the lines which I quoted to him one night when 
 we were speaking of the early death of another young 
 Indian civilian — 
 
 " But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, 
 And think to burst out into sudden blaze, 
 Comes the blind Fury with tk' abhorred shears. 
 And slits the thin-spun life. But not the praise," 
 
 But praise, or fame, as here- used by Milton and some 
 of our older writers, is not to be- confounded with the 
 notoriety of the world, which almost any eccentricity, 
 vulgarity, self-assertion, or accidental success may com- 
 mand. It is even something more than the "good and 
 honest report " of the multitude, or the approval of the 
 better-minded of the human race, both of which judg- 
 ments must often proceed on very imperfect and mis- 
 leading grounds. Milton himself expressed the truest 
 meaning of fame when Phoebus touched his trembling 
 ears, and, immediately after the passage just quoted, he 
 went on to say — • 
 
 " Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, 
 Nor in the glistening foil 
 Set off to th' w6il(l, iiov in broad rumour lies. 
 But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes, 
 And perfect witness of all-judging Jove ; 
 As he p; onounces lastly on eacJi deed, 
 Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed." 
 
 It must be fancied that the poet is rather inconsistent 
 here, because he begins by speaking of fame as " the last 
 infirmity of noble minds ; " and surely it can hardly be 
 an infirmity to value the judgment which proceeds from 
 the "perfect witness of all-judging Jove." But there is 
 no inconsistency when the whole passage in " Lycidas " is 
 
SCENES IN KASHMIR. 319. 
 
 considered, beginning-, " Alas ! what boots it with inces- 
 sant care ? " The argument is that it must matter 
 
 nothing, seeing that when we expect to find tiie guerdon 
 and break out into sudden blaze, then comes Fate with 
 the abhorred shears ; but to this Phoebus answers re- 
 provingly that fame is not of mortal growth, and only 
 lives and spreads above^ This suggests a double life 
 even now, and identifies fame with our own better exist- 
 ence. There is no subject, however, on which men are 
 so apt to deceive themselves as when appealing to a 
 higher and unseen judgment : probably few criminals go 
 to execution without a deceiving belief that Heaven will 
 be more merciful to them than man has been, because 
 they can shelter themselves under the truth that Heaven 
 alone knows what their difficulties and temptations have 
 been, forgetting that it alone also knows their oppor- 
 tunities and the full wickedness of their life. Every man 
 should mistrust himself when he looks forward to that 
 higher fame with any other feeling than one of having 
 been an unprofitable servant ; and even this feeling 
 should be mistrusted when it goes into words rather than 
 to the springs of action. It is in the general idea, and as 
 resrards others rather than ourselves, that the consola- 
 tion of Milton's noble lines may be found. The dread 
 severance of the abhorred shears extends not merely to 
 the lives of the young and promising, but to all in human 
 life which is beautiful and good. What avails the closest 
 companionship, the fondest love, before the presence of 
 Death the separator .'' In even ai\ ordinary life, how many 
 bright promises have been destroyed, how many dearest 
 ties severed, and how many dark regrets remain ! For 
 that there is no consolation worth speaking of except the 
 faith that all which was good and beautiful here belov*' 
 still lives and blooms above. 
 
 There are several very beautiful or striking places 
 
320 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 about the sources of the Jhelam which no visitor to 
 Kashmir should omit to see. Islamabad can be reached 
 in two days by boat, if the river is not in flood ; and the 
 mat awning- of the boats lets down close to the gunwale, 
 so as to form a comfor-table closed apartment for night. 
 In late autumn, at least, the waters of Kashmir are so 
 warm, as compared with the evening and night air,- that 
 towards afternoon an extraordinary amount of steam 
 begins to rise from them. But the air is exceedingly 
 dry notwithstanding the immense amount of water in 
 the valley, and the frequent showers of rain which fall ; 
 and there is very little wind in Kashmir, which is an 
 immense comfort, especially for dwellers in tents. There 
 is now no difficulty in obtaining information in regard 
 to Kashmir amply sufficient to guide the visitor. The 
 older books on that country are well enough known, such 
 as those of Bernier, Jacquemont, Moorcroft, HUgel, and 
 Vigne; and it is curious how much information we owe 
 to them, and how repeatedly that information has been 
 produced by later writers, apparently without any at- 
 tempt to verify it, or to correct it up to date. Three 
 books on Kashmir, however, which have been published 
 very recently, will be found of great use to the traveller 
 of our day. First and foremost of these is " A Voca- 
 bulary of the Kashmiri Language," by the late lamented 
 medical missionary, Dr W. J. Elmslie, published by the 
 Church Missionary House in London in 1872. It is a 
 small volume, and gives the Kashmiri for a great num- 
 ber of English words, as well as the English for Kash- 
 miri ones ; and he has managed to compress into it a 
 large amount of valuable and accurate information in 
 regard to the valley, its products and its inhabitants. 
 To any one who has a talent for languages, or who has 
 had a good deal of experience in acquiring them, it will 
 be found a very easy matter to learn to speak a little 
 
SCENES IN KASHMIR. 321 
 
 modern Kashmiri, which is nearly altogether a colloquial 
 language ; and for this purpose Dr Elmslie's Vocabu- 
 lary — the fruit of six laborious seasons spent in the 
 countty — will be found invaluable. The acquisition of 
 this language is also rendered easy by its relationship to 
 those of India and Persia. The largest number of its 
 words, or about 40 per cent., are said to be Persian ; 
 Sanscrit gives 25; Hindusthani, 15 ; Arabic, 10; and 
 the Turanian dialects of Central Asia, 15. The letters 
 of ancient Kashmiri closely resemble those of Sanscrit, 
 and are read only by a ver}^ few of the Hindu priests in 
 Kashmir; and it is- from these that the Tibetan charac- 
 ters appear to have been taken. The second important 
 work to which I allude has not been published at all, 
 having been prepared "for political and military refer- 
 ence," for the use of the Government of India. It is "A 
 Gazetteer of Kashmir and the adjacent districts of Kisht- 
 war, Badrawar, Jamu, Naoshera, Punch, and the Valley 
 of the Kishen Ganga, by Captain Ellison Bates, Bengal 
 Staff Corps." This volume was printed in 1873, and 
 will be found very useful to those who can get hold of 
 it. The principal places in the valley, and in the dis- 
 tricts mentioned above, are enumerated alphabetically 
 and described ; and there are nearly 150 pages in which 
 routes are detailed in such a manner that the traveller 
 will know what he has to expect upon them. It has also 
 an introduction, which contains much information in re- 
 gard to the country generally, but a great deal of this has 
 been taken from the older writers, and some of it does 
 not appear to have been verified. In this respect Dr 
 Elmslie's "Kashmiri Vocabularv" affords more original 
 information than Captain Bates's Gazetteer, but the 
 latter will be found a ver}^ valuable work of reference. 
 The third volume I speak of is of a less learned de- 
 scription, and is " The Kashmir Handbook : a Guide for 
 
 X 
 
322 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 Visitors, with Map and Routes, By John Ince, M.D., 
 Bengal Medical Service ; " and was published at Cal- 
 cutta in 1872. This work is not free from errors, as 
 notably in its rendering of the Persian inscriptions on 
 the Takht-i-Suliman, and it indiscriminately heaps to- 
 gether a good deal of information from various sources. 
 It is also very costly for its size, and the arrangement is 
 not very good ; but, nevertheless, it is a useful guide- 
 book. Armed with these three recently-published vol- 
 umes, the visitor to Kashmir is supplied with all the 
 informa':ion which an ordinary traveller requires in going 
 through a strange country ; but their maps are not sat- 
 isfactory, and he will do well to supply himself with 
 the five-mile-to-the-inch sheets of the Trigonometrical 
 Survey, The antiquarian may consult Cunningham's 
 " Ancient Geography of India," published in London in 
 1871, and Lieutenant Cole's "Illustrations of Ancient 
 Buildings in Kashmir." For the sportsman, there are 
 Brinkman's " Rifle in Kashmir," and several other books, 
 more or less of a light character. Bernier, the first of 
 all the European travellers in Kashmir since possibly 
 Marco Polo, is exceedingly good ; Jacquemont's Letters 
 are graphic and amusing, though full of insane vanity ; 
 and l^vloorcroft gathered himself much more information 
 regarding the country than almost any other traveller 
 has done, for Elmslie may almost be regarded as having 
 been a resident. 
 
 At Pandrathan, not far up the Jhelam from Srinagar, 
 we came upon the site of an ancient capital of the 
 Kashmir valley, and on a very ruinous old temple situ- 
 ated in the middle of a tank, or rather pond. The name 
 of this place affords an excellent example of the present 
 state of our knowledge of Kashmir antiquities ; Dr Ince, 
 Captain Bates, and Lieutenant Cole, following General 
 Cunningham, deriving it from Puranadhisthana. or " the 
 
SCENES IN KASHMIR. 323 
 
 old chief cit\' ;" while Dr Elmslie, adopting its Kashmir 
 sound, Pandrenton, derives it from Darendun and his 
 five sons the famous Pandus. Hiigel, again, made the 
 mistake of calling it a Biidhist temple, though it is clearly 
 Hindu, and associated with the Naga or snake worship. 
 The water round this temple makes an examination of 
 the interior difficult; but Captain Bates says that the 
 roof is covered with sculpture of such purely classic de- 
 sign, that any uninitiated person who saw it on paper 
 would at once take it for a sketch from a Greek or 
 Roman original. This suggests actual Greek influence ; 
 and Cunningham says, in connection with the .fluted 
 columns, porches, and pediments. of Martand, "I feel 
 convinced myself that several of the Kashmirian forms, 
 and many of the details, were borrowed from the tem- 
 ples of the Kabulian Greeks, while the arrangements of 
 the interior, and the relative proportions of the different 
 parts, were of Hindu origin." It is not improbable, how- 
 ever, that these Kashmir ruins may have belonged to an 
 earlier age, and have had an influence upon Greek archi- 
 tecture instead of having been influenced by it ; but be 
 that as it may, this beautiful little temple, with its pro- 
 fusion of decoration, and grey with antiquity, stands 
 alone, a curious remnant of a lost city and a bygone age 
 — the city, according to tradition, having been burned 
 by King Abhimanu in the tenth century of the Chris- 
 tian era. 
 
 Camping for the night some way above this, and on 
 the opposite side of the river, I saw some magnificent 
 hunting-dogs of the Maharajah, which bounded on their 
 chains, and could hardly be held by their keepers, on 
 the appearance of an unaccustomed figure. They were 
 longer and higher than Tibetan mastiffs, and had some 
 resemblance in hair and .shape to Newfoundlands, but 
 were mostly of a brown and yellow colour. . The men 
 
324 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 in charge said these dogs were used for hunting down 
 large game, especially leopards and wolves, and they 
 were certainly formidable creatures ; but the ordinary 
 dogs of Kashmir are very poor animals, even excluding 
 the pariahs. Bates says that the wild dog exists in 
 some parts of this country, as Lar and Maru Wardwan, 
 hunts in packs, and, when pressed by hunger, will destroy 
 children, and even grown persons. 
 
 At Bijbehara, immediately above which the Jhelam 
 begins to narrow considerably, there is one of those 
 numerous and exquisitely picturesque-looking Kashmir 
 bridges, resting on large square supports formed of logs 
 of wood laid transversely, with trees growing out of 
 them, and overshadowing the bridge itself, This town 
 has 400 houses; and the following analysis, given by 
 Captain Bates, of the inhabitants of these houses, affords 
 a ver}^ fair idea of the occupations of a Kashmir town or 
 large village :— Mohammedan zemindars or proprietors, 
 80 houses; Mohammedan shopkeepers, 65 ; Hindu shop- 
 keepers, 15 ; Brahmins, 8; pundits, 20; goldsmiths, 10; 
 bakers, 5 ; washermen, 5 ; clothweavers, 9 ; blacksmiths, 
 5 ; carpenters, 4 ; toy-makers, i ; surgeons (query, phle- 
 botomists ?), 2 ; physicians, 3 ; leather-workers, 5 ; milk- 
 sellers, 7; cow-keepers, 2 ; fishermen, 10; fishsellers, 7; 
 butchers, 8 ; musicians, 2 ; carpet- makers, 2 ; blanket- 
 makers, 3 ; Syud (descendant of the prophet), i ; MuUas 
 (Mohammedan clergymen), 12 ; Pir Zadas (saints !), 40 ; 
 Fakirs, 20. It will thus be seen that about a fourth of 
 the 4C0 houses are occupied by the so-called ministers 
 of religion ; and that the landed gentry are almost all 
 Mohammedan, though the people of that religion com- 
 plain of their diminished position under the present 
 Hindu (Sikh) Raj in Kashmir. For these 400 houses 
 there are 10 mosques, besides 8 smaller shrines, and 
 several Hindu temples, }^et the Kashmiris are far from 
 
SCENES IN KASHMIR. 325 
 
 being a religious people as compared with the races of 
 India generally. Let us consider how an English village 
 of 4000 or 6000 people would flourish if it were burdened 
 in this way by a fourth of its population being ministers 
 of religion, and in great part ruffians without family ties. 
 It is a very rougli and uncertain calculation which sets 
 down the population of Kashmir at half a million. The 
 whole population of the' dominions of the Maharajah is 
 said to be a million and a half, but that includes Jamu, 
 which is much more populous than Kashmir. Captain 
 Bates says that the estimate of the Maharajah's Govern- 
 ment, founded on a partial census taken in 1869, gave 
 only 475,000 ; but that is better than the population of 
 the year 1835, when oppression, pestilence, and famine 
 had reduced it so low as 200,00c. It is, however, not 
 for want of producing that the population is small ; for, 
 according to the same authority, "it is said that every 
 woman has, at an average, ten to fourteen children." I 
 do not quite understand this kind of average; but it 
 seems to mean that, on an average, every woman has 
 twelve children. That shows a prodigious fecundity, 
 and is the more remarkable when we learn that the 
 proportion of men to women is as three to one. This 
 disproportion is produced by the infamous export of 
 young girls to which I have already alluded ; and it is 
 impossible that such a traffic could be carried on with- 
 out the connivance of the Government, or at least of 
 a very large number of the Government officials. Dr 
 Elmslie's estimate of the population of Kashmir, includ- 
 ing the surrounding countries and the inhabitants of the 
 mountains, was 402,700 — of these, 75,000 being Hindus, 
 312,700 being Surf Mohammedans, and 15,000 Shias. 
 His estimate of the population of Srinagar was 127,000; 
 but the census of the Government in 1869 gave 135,000 
 for that city. 
 
326 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 At night our boatmen used to catch fish by holding 
 a liglit over tlie water in shallow places, and transfixing 
 the fish with short spears. So plentiful are these crea- 
 tures, that between two and three dozen were caught in 
 about half an hour, and many of them above a pound 
 weight. I cannot say much of them, however, as articles 
 of diet. The flesh was insipid and soft as putty, and 
 they were as full of bones as a serpent. Vigne acutely 
 observed that the common Himaliyan trout varies so 
 much in colour and appearance, according to its age, 
 season, and feeding-ground, that the Kashmiris have no 
 difficulty in making out that there are several species of 
 it instead of one. Bates mentions eleven kinds of fish 
 as existent in the waters of Kashmir; but, with one ex- 
 ception-, all the fish I had the fortune to see seemed of 
 one species, and were the same in appearance as those 
 which abound in prodigious quantities in the sacred 
 , tanks. and the ponds in the gardens of the Mogul em- 
 perors. The exception was a large fish, of which my 
 servants partook on our way to the Wular Lake, and 
 which made them violently sick. Elmslie agrees with 
 Viene in mentioning onlv six varieties, and savs that 
 the Hindus of Kashmir, as well as the Mohammedans, 
 eat fish. Fly-fishing is pursued by the visitors to this 
 country, but the fish do not rise readily to the fly, and 
 Vigne says he found that kind of fishing to be an un- 
 profitable employment. Much,, however, depends on 
 the streams selected for this purpose, and an Angler's 
 Guide to Kashmir is still a desideratum. Dr Ince men- 
 tions several places where good casts are to be had, but 
 otherwise he affords Piscator no information. 
 
 Islamabad is a fine name, and the town which it 
 denotes is the terminus of the navigation of the upper 
 Jhelam. Boats do not go quite up to it, but within two 
 or three miles of it, and there are a number of highly 
 
SCENES LN KA SHMIR. 3 z 7 
 
 interesting- places around it within a radius of thirty 
 miles. Though the second town in the province, it has 
 only about 1500 houses, and its population is a little 
 doubtful, as the statistician leaves us at liberty to cal- 
 culate from ten to thirty inhabitants to the, house. It 
 lies beneath the apex of the tableland, about 400 feet 
 higher, on which the ruins of Martand are situated. By 
 the Hindus it is called Anat Nag ; and it is of im- 
 portance to notice the number of Nags there are in 
 Kashmir in general, and in this part of the countr\- in 
 particular, as the name relates to the old serpent-worship 
 of the country. The present town of Islamabad is a 
 miserable place, though it supports no less than fifteen 
 Mohammedan temples, and its productions are shawls, 
 saddle-cloths, and rugs. At the Anat Nag, where the 
 sacred tanks are alive with thousands of tame fish, there 
 are fine plane-trees and a large double-storej'ed building 
 for respectable travellers. I only stopped for breakfast; 
 but a very short experience of the interior of that build- 
 ing drove me out into a summer-house in the garden. 
 There is no doubt that if the fleas in the larger edifice 
 were at all unanimous, they could easily push the 
 traveller out of bed. The water of the sacred tanks 
 proceeds from springs, and is slightly sulphureous in 
 character, which does not appear to affect the health of 
 the fish ; but it is strictly forbidden to kill these fish. 
 
 At Islamabad, when I visited it, a good many newl}^- 
 plucked crocus-flowers were in course of being dried in 
 order to make saffron, though the great beds of this 
 plant are further down the Jhelam. I entirely agree 
 with the Emperor Jehangir — the man who would let 
 nobody get drunk except himself — when he says in his 
 journal, of these crocus- flowers, "Their appearance is 
 best at a distance, and when plucked they emit a strong 
 smell." With some humour Jehangir goes on to sa\', 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 " My attendants were all seized with a headache ; and 
 although I myself was intoxicated with liquor at the 
 time, I also felt my head affected." One would like to 
 know how the Light of the World was affected on this 
 occasion, but history is silent; and, so far as I know, 
 only Tmolus loved to adorn his head with crocus- 
 flowers, as we learn from the first Georgia of Virgil, 
 
 56- 
 
 '' Nonne vides croceos ut Tmolus odores, 
 India mittet ebur, molles sua tliura Sabsei." 
 
 Notwithstanding their odious smell when fresh, these 
 saffron-flowers, when dried, are much valued as condi- 
 ment for food, as medicine, and as supplying one of the 
 colours with which Hindus make some of their caste- 
 marks. The saffron is called kono;- in the Kashmiri 
 language ; and, according to Elmslie, 180 grains of 
 saffron — the dried stigmata of the Crocus sativiis — bring 
 nearly a shilling in the valley itself. In good seasons, 
 about 2000 traks of it are annually produced in the valley, 
 and a trak seems to be equal to nearly 10 lbs. English. 
 October is the season for collecting the flowers. A dry 
 soil is said to be necessary to the growth of them ; and 
 in from eight to twelve years they exhaust the soil so 
 much, that eight years are often allowed to elapse before 
 growing it again on the exhausted ground. 
 
 The garden at Islamabad was full of soldiers, priests, 
 and beggars ; and I was glad to move on five miles to 
 Bawan, on the Liddar, where there is a similar grove and 
 fish-ponds, but far more secluded, and with more magni- 
 ficent trees. This is a delightful place, and almost no 
 one was to be found in the enclosure round the tanks, 
 which are held specially sacred. On the way thither I 
 passed large flocks of ponies on graze, this part of 
 Kashmir being famous for its breed. They are not in 
 in any respect, except size, to be compared with the 
 
SCENES IN KASHMIR. 329 
 
 ponies of Tibet; but they are tolerably sure-footed, and 
 can continue pretty long daily journeys. At Srinagar 
 I had purchased, for my own use, a Khiva horse, from 
 a Panjabi colonel and well-known sportsman. It had 
 been brought down to India in the \-ear 1872 by the 
 envoy whom the Khan of Khiva sent to Lord North- 
 brook to ask for assistance against the Russians — a 
 request which was politely but firmly declined. This 
 animal was of an iron-grey colour, with immensely thick, 
 soft, short hair, and was of extraordinary thickness and 
 length in the bod\% and so shaped that a crupper was 
 required to keep the saddle from shpping on its 
 shoulders. Nothing startled it; it was perfectly sure- 
 footed, and could go long journeys among the 
 mountains ; but though it had been shod, its feet soon 
 got sore when I rode it with any rapidity along the 
 plains. Its favourite pace was an artificially produced 
 one, which consisted chiefly in moving the two feet on 
 one side simultaneously, and in that way, which was 
 rather an easy pace, it went almost as fast as it could 
 trot or canter. 
 
 The caves of Bhumju, in a limestone cliff near to 
 Bawan, do not present very much of interest. One of 
 them penetrates indefinitely into the mountain, and the 
 belief is that it goes on for twenty miles at least ; but it 
 gets so narrow and low, that I was fain to come to a 
 stop after going about 200 paces with lighted torches. 
 Dr Ince, in his Kashmir Handbook, calls it the Long- 
 Cave, and says that it " may be traversed for about 210 
 feet ; be}'ond this the passage becomes too small to 
 admit a man, even when crawling, so that its total 
 length cannot be ascertained ; the natives, however, 
 believe it to be interminable. It is the abode of 
 numerous bats, and the rock in many places is beau- 
 tifully honeycombed by the action of water, which 
 
330 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 is constantly trickling from the higher portions of 
 the roof." The water does trickle down upon one 
 beautifully, but the honeycombing of the rock is the 
 deposits of lime made by the water; and even within 
 the 200 feet a sense of pressure is experienced from the 
 rock-walls. Of course I was told all sorts of stories as 
 to what lies beyond, such as great galleries, halls, 
 sculptures, inscriptions, rivers, waterfalls, ■ evil demons, 
 gods, goddesses, and so forth. All this sounded very 
 interesting and enticing ; but v^-orming along a small 
 aperture is by no means suited to my constitution or 
 tastes, so I resisted the temptation, and said to myself, 
 " Let General Cunningham creep up it : he is paid for 
 looking after the archaeology of India." About fifty feet 
 from the entrance of this passage, and opening from 
 the left of it, there is a small cave-temple. In a still 
 smaller excavated room near the entrance there are the 
 bones of a human being ; but skeletons are not scarce in 
 Kashmir, and no particular antiquarian interest attaches 
 to these remains. Another cave in the immediate 
 neighbourhood, which is reached by ladders and very 
 steep stone steps, shows more traces of human work- 
 manship. This is called the Temple Cave. At its 
 entrance there is a fine trefoil arch, and on one of the 
 platforms inside there is what Ince speaks of as " a 
 Hindu temple built of stone, of pyramidal shape, about 
 I \\ feet square, and one of the most perfect specimens 
 of this style of architecture to be seen in any part of the 
 country." I examined this cave rather hurriedh^, and 
 took no notes concerning it, so I cannot speak with 
 absolute certainty ; but my recollection of this Hindu 
 temple and . perfect specimen of architecture is, that it 
 was a somewhat ordinary but large Liiigam, an emblem 
 which need not be explained to polite readers. 
 
 On the sides of the bridle-path from these caves to 
 
SCENES IN KASHMIR. 33 1 
 
 the tableland above, successive lake beaches were dis- 
 tinctly visible. Geology leaves no doubt as to the 
 truth of the old tradition that the great valley of 
 Kashmir was once a magnificent lake, which has now 
 subsided, leaving only remnants of itself, here and there. 
 The name of this ancient lake was Sahti'sar, and the 
 mountains surrounding it were thickly peopled. The 
 tradition goes on to say that the lake became the abode 
 of a terrible monster called Yaldeo, who, after devouring 
 all the fish there were in the great water, proceeded to 
 appease his hunger by devouring the inhabitants of the 
 surrounding hills, who in consequence had to fly into 
 the higher mountains above. At this stage the tradi- 
 tional Rishi, or holy man, makes his appearance on the 
 field : his name was Kashaf, and his great sanctity had 
 given him the power of working miracles. This holy 
 man proceeded to the north-west end of the lake, where 
 the Jhelam now issues from the valley at Baramula, 
 struck the ground with his trident, and the opening 
 earth caused the waters of the lake to disappear, which 
 soon brought about the death of the monster Yaldeo. 
 Hence the name Kashmir, which is made out to be 
 a contraction of Kashafmar, the place or country of 
 Kashaf the Rishi, who may thus be said to have made 
 it. As to the truth or probability of this story about 
 Kashaf, I need say nothing. The Hindu may turn 
 round upon us and argue: "You say the age of miracles 
 is over, and you can show no modern ones in support of 
 your religion more probable or less puerile in appear- 
 ance than those which the masses of this country believe 
 that our devotees still accomplish. As the age of 
 miracles is past for you, so, unhappily, is for us the 
 age for the incarnation and appearance on earth of 
 our gods, otherwise you would not be here. This 
 we have long been taught, and see abundant reason to 
 
332 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 believe, is the Kala Yogi, or Black Age, when the gods 
 have retired from the earth ; but that does not prove 
 they have never been here- before. We find that even 
 the rationalistic Socrates did not deny the actual exist- 
 ence of the gods of Greece ; and that, in an age of 
 culture and criticism, the historian Plutarch thoroughly 
 believed in them. Is the universal belief of whole 
 nations, and of hundreds of millions of people for tens 
 of centuries, to go for nothing in elucidation and proof 
 of the past history of the human race t If so, what 
 importance, what value, can we attach to the reasoning 
 and conclusions of a few Western scientific men and 
 critical historians who have formed a school within the 
 last century ? The probability would be that they too 
 have fallen into delusion, and are blindly leading the 
 blind. It is more rational to believe that the gods 
 of ancient Greece and India really existed, as at the 
 time they were universally believed to exist, and that 
 they are now, alas ! passed away from this portion 
 of the universe, or have ceased to display themselves to 
 the degraded human race." 
 
 Some way up on the tableland, in a now lonely and 
 desolate position, which commands the great valley of 
 Kashmir, I found the wonderful ruin of the great temple 
 of Martand. Vigne was quite justified in sa}-ing that, 
 " as an isolated ruin, this deserves, on account of its 
 solitary and massive grandeur, to be ranked not only as 
 the first ruin of the kind in Kashmir, but as one of the 
 noblest amongst the architectural relics of antiquity 
 that are to be seen in any country." According to 
 tradition, a large city once stood round it, — and there 
 are indications that such may have been the case, — but 
 now this wonderful ruin stands alone in solitary un- 
 relieved glory. It is strange, in this secluded Eastern 
 country, where the works of man are generally so mean, 
 
SCENES IN KASHMIR. 
 
 and surrounded by these lofty snowy mountains, to 
 come upon a ruin which, though so different in cha- 
 racter, might yet vie with the finest remains of Greek 
 and Roman architecture in its noble dimensions, in its 
 striking and beautiful form, in the gigantic stones of 
 which it is composed, in its imposing position, and bv 
 the manner in which gloom and grandeur are softened 
 by its exquisite pillars, and its delicate, though now 
 half-defaced ornamentation. 
 
 This temple is situated within an oblong colonnade 
 composed of fluted pillars and decaying trefoil arches 
 and walls. It rises above these in such perfect majesty, 
 that one can hardly believe its present height is only 
 about forty feet. Its majestic outlines are combined 
 with rich and elaborate details ; but a description of 
 these, or even of its outlines, would give no idea of its 
 grand general effect, while desolation and silence are 
 around. Moreover, as Captain Bates remarks, " It 
 overlooks the finest view in Kashmir, and perhaps in 
 the known world. Beneath it lies the paradise of the 
 East, with its sacred streams and glens, its brown 
 Orchards and green fields, surrounded on all sides by 
 vast snowy mountains, whose lofty peaks seem to smile 
 upon the beautiful valley below." 
 
 Baron Hiigel asserts of this ancient ruin, which he 
 calls by its name of Korau Pandau, or, more usually, 
 Pandu-Koru, that it " owes its existence and name 
 to the most ancient dynasty of Kashmir. The great 
 antiquity of the ruin will be acknowledged, therefore, 
 when I remind the reader that the Pandu dynasty 
 ended 2500 years before Christ, after governing Kashmir, 
 according to their historians, nearly 1 300 years." That 
 would give an antiquity of nearly 5000 years to this 
 temple : later archseologists, however, are more mode- 
 rate in their demands upon our belief, and set it 
 
334 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 down as erected between A.D. 370 and 500 ; but the 
 reasons for this are by no means conclusive. When 
 one knows nothing about the history of an ancient 
 temple, it is always safe to call it a temple of the sun ; 
 but in this case there is some support for the suppo- 
 sition in the Sanscrit meaning of the word Martand. 
 That, however, does not throw any light upon its age ; 
 and we may as well ascribe it to the.Pandu dynasty as 
 to any other period of ancient history. Kashmir may 
 have been the mountain-retreat where Pandu himself 
 died before his five sons began to enact the scenes of 
 the Mahabharata ; but modern Indian archaeologists 
 have got into a way of constructing serious history out 
 of very slight and dubious references. This is not to 
 be wondered at, because the first synthetical inquiries, 
 as conducted by Lassen in particular, yielded such 
 magnificent historical results, that later antiquaries 
 have been under a natural temptation to raise startling 
 edifices out of much more slender and dubious material. 
 Hiigel's date is quite as good as that of A.D. 370 ; and 
 where all is pretty much speculation, we are not called 
 upon to decide. 
 
 But sufficient is dimly seen in the mists of antiquity 
 to reveal something of the past, as we stand by this 
 ancient temple and gaze over the Valley of Roses. A 
 temple such as Martand, and the city which once 
 stood in its neighbourhood, would not, in all proba- 
 bility have found a place on this plateau except at a 
 period when the Valley was a great lake. Hence we 
 may presume that this temple and city of the Pandus 
 belonged to a very ancient period, when the inhabi- 
 tants of Kashmir were located on the slopes of the 
 mountains round a great, beautiful lake, more pic- 
 turesquely surrounded than any sheet of water now 
 existing upon the earth. The people were Indo- 
 
SC£NJtS IN KASHMIR. 335 
 
 Aryans, retaining much_ of the simplicity and rich, 
 powerful naturalness of the Vedic period, but civilised in 
 a very high degree, and able to erect splendid temples 
 to the Sun-god. Associated with their Aryan religion 
 they indulged in the serpent- worship which they had 
 adopted from more primitive races, and perhaps from 
 the rude Turanians of the neighbouring abodes of 
 snow. In these ancient times the people and rulers of 
 Kashmir would be very effectually secluded from ag- 
 gressive forces. No rapacious neighbours would be 
 strong enough to disturb their family nationality ; and 
 in their splendid climate, with a beautiful lake con- 
 necting their various settlements, it is far from unlikely 
 that the Aryans in Kashmir may have presented a 
 powerful, natural, and art-loving development, analo- 
 gous to that which, about the same period, they were 
 beginning ta obtain in the favoured Isles of Greece. 
 But, whether produced by natural or artificial causes — 
 whether due to P'ate, or to a shortsighted desire for 
 land — the disappearance of the lake and the desiccation 
 of the valley, which tradition assigns to the year 266 
 B.C., must have wrought a great change in their circum- 
 stances, associated as it was with the increase of the 
 warlike mountain-tribes around. Gradually the valley- 
 plain would afford a more fertile and easih-worked soil 
 than the slopes of the mountains, which were soon for- 
 saken for it. The primitive serpent-worship and the 
 natural Vedic religion would be affected by the evil 
 Brahminism of the plains of India; and this, again, had 
 to struggle against the rising influence of Budhism, 
 which is unfavourable to warlike qualities. Tartar 
 chiefs began to dispute the kingdom with Hindu dynas- 
 ties ; fierce mountaineers in the Hindu Kush would 
 greedily listen to rumours about the terrestrial para- 
 dise, and there would be the commencement of that 
 
3 36 THE- ABODE OF SNO IV. 
 
 state of hopeless vassalage which has condemned 
 the Kashmiri- to centuries of misery, and developed 
 in his character its falsity and feebleness. Nothing- 
 more definite can be discerned of that early period 
 except that the Kashmiris were a brave and warlike 
 people ; and that, even then, its women were famous 
 for their beauty, as illustrated by the legend of the 
 two angels Harat and Marat, who were sent on earth 
 by God to reform men by their example, but were 
 ensnared by the beauty of a fair Kashmiri. Other 
 countries are not without stories of the kind ; but to 
 Kashmir it was reserved to corrupt the reforming angels 
 by means of a simple courtesan. Mermaids, too, 
 there appear to have been in the lake — the beau- 
 tiful daughters of the serpent-gods, before whom even 
 Brahmins trembled and were powerless. With the 
 Mohammedans there comes a more troubled era. After 
 an ineffectual attempt in the end of the tenth century, 
 Mohammed of Ghuzni conquered Kashmir in the begin- 
 ning of the eleventh century ; chiefs of Dardistan and 
 kings of Tibet make incursions into it, and forcibly 
 marry the daughters of its tottering Hindu monarchs ; 
 even distant Turkistan sends vultures to the prey ; 
 and the only heroism is displayed by Queen Rajputani, 
 the last of its Hindu sovereigns, who rather than marry 
 an usurping prime minister, upbraided him for his in- 
 gratitude and treacher}^, and stabbed herself before 
 him. The sixth of the Moslem monarchs, who suc- 
 ceeded and who reigned in 1396 A.D., was the igno- 
 rant zealot Sikander, nicknamed Bhutshikan or the 
 Image-breaker, who devoted his energies to destroy- 
 ing the ancient architecture and sculpture of Kashmir, 
 and succeeded only too well in his endeavours. In 
 the next centurv reigned the Badshali or Great King, 
 
SCENES IN KASHMIR. 337 
 
 Zein-ul-abdin, who gave Kashmir its most celebrated 
 manufacture, by introducing wool from Tibet and wea- 
 vers from Turkistan, as also papier-mache work and 
 the manufacture of paper. This extraordinary man 
 reigned fifty-three years ; he was a patron of litera- 
 ture, a poet and a lover of field-sports, as well as a most 
 practical ruler, arid he gave the country a great impetus. 
 This vantage-ground, however, was lost almost immedi- 
 ately after his death, and, as he had foreseen, by the 
 growing power of the native class of the Chaks, who 
 soon rose to supreme power in Kashmir by placing them- 
 selves at the head of the national party. Under one of 
 their chiefs the valley asserted itself nobly and victori- 
 ously against its external enemies ; but this advantage 
 was soon lost through internal jealousies, enmities, and 
 treachery ; and a request for assistance offered by one 
 of the Chak chiefs afforded Akbar the pretext for con- 
 quering the country and making it a part of the great 
 Mogul Empire. 
 
 On the way from Martand to Achibal I saw the only 
 serpent which appeared before me in Kashmir ; but be- 
 fore I could get hold of it, the wily creature had disap- 
 peared in the grass ; and those who have closely observed 
 serpents know how readily they do disappear, and how 
 wonderfully the more innocuous ones, even the large 
 rock-snakes, manage to conceal themselves from the 
 human eye in short grass, where it might be thought that 
 even a small snake could easily be detected. I have 
 been instructed by Indian snake-charmers, who are 
 rather averse to parting with their peculiar knowledge, 
 and have tried my hand successfully on a small wild' 
 cobra, between three and four feet in length, so I speak 
 with knowledge and experience on this subject; but this 
 Kashmir snake I refer to eluded my grasp. It was 
 only about two and a half or three feet long, and had 
 
 * . Y ' 
 
338 THE' ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 the appearance of a viper ; but I do not know what it 
 was. The ganas, or apliia, is a species of viper which is 
 said to be very dangerous, and is most dreaded by the 
 people of the country. The~ latter name has suggested, 
 and very properly suggests, the o^i9 of. the Greeks. 
 Serpents are scarce in Kashmir, and do not at all in- 
 terfere with the great pleasure of camping out in that 
 country. There is more annoyance from leopards, espe- 
 cially for people who have small dogs with them ; for the 
 leopard has quite a mania for that sort of diet, and will 
 not hesitate to penetrate into your tent at night in quest 
 of his game. 
 
 Achibal and Vernag are two delightful places, such 
 as no other country in the world can present; but their 
 general characteristics are so similar that I shall not 
 attempt to describe them separately. They resemble 
 the Shalimar and Nishat Gardens, to which I have 
 already alluded, but are more secluded, more beautiful, 
 and more poetic. Bal means a place, and Ash is the 
 satyr of Kashmir traditions. Ver, according to Elmslie, 
 is the name of the district in which the summer palace 
 is situated ;■ but it is properly vir, which may be either 
 the Kashmir word for the weeping willow (which would 
 suit it well enough), or an old Aryan form for the Latin 
 vir. On the latter supposition it would be the haunt of 
 the man-serpents, and it is exactly the place that would 
 have suited them in ancient or any times. 
 
 Both Achibal and Vernag were favourite haunts of 
 our friend Jehangir, and of his wife Nur Jahan, the Light 
 of the World. If that immortal pair required any proof 
 of their superiority, it would be found in the retreats 
 which they chose for themselves, and which mark them 
 out as above tJie level of ordinary and even royal 
 humanit}'. At Achibal, a spring of water, the largest 
 in Kashmir, rises at the head of the beautiful pleasure- 
 
SCENES IN KASHMIR. 339 
 
 garden, underneath an overshadowing cliff, and this is 
 supposed to be the reappearance of a river which dis- 
 appears in the mountains some -miles above. At Ver- 
 nag, also, a large' spring bubbles up in almost icy coldness 
 beneath a gigantic cliff, fringed with birch and light ash, 
 that— 
 
 " Pendant from the brow 
 Of yon dim cave, in seeming silence make 
 A soft eye-music of slow- wjvving boughs." 
 
 It is more specially interesting, however, as the source 
 of the Jhelam or Hydaspes ; and as I sat beside it on an 
 evening of delicious repose, an old schoolboy recollec- 
 tion came to mind, and it was pleasant to find that, if I 
 could not venture to claim entirely the 
 
 " Integer vitse scelerisque purus," 
 
 yet I had escaped the Maurian darts, and had been en- 
 abled to travel in safety — 
 
 " Sive per Syrtes iter sestuosas, 
 Sive facturus per inhospitalera 
 Caucasum, vel quae loca fabulosuj 
 Lambit Hydaspes.'' 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE AFGHAN BORDER. 
 
 Before leaving Kashmir I must devote a paragraph to 
 its two most famous sheets of water, the Manasbal, and 
 the VVular Lake. . They are both on the usual way out 
 from Srinagar, which is also the usual way to it, and are 
 seen by most visitors to the valley. 
 
 The Manasbal is called the most beautiful, but is 
 rather the most picturesque, lake in Kashmir. It lies 
 close to the Jhelam on the north-west, and is connected 
 with that river by a canal only about a mile long, through 
 which boats can pass. This little lake is not much larger 
 than Grasmere, being scarcely three miles long by one 
 broad ; but its shores are singularly suggestive of peace- 
 fulness and solitude. Picturesque mountains stand round 
 a considerable portion of it, and at one point near they 
 rise to the height of lO,ooo feet, while snowy summits 
 are visible beyond. In its clear deep-green water the 
 surrounding scenery is seen most beautifully imaged. 
 There being so little wind in Kashmir, and the surround- 
 ing trees and mountains being so high, this is one of the 
 most charming features of its placid lakes. Wordsworth 
 has assigned the occasional calmness of its waters as 
 one of the reasons why he claims that the Lake Country 
 of England is more beautiful than Switzerland, where 
 the lakes are seldom seen in an unruffled state ; but in 
 this respect the Valley of Roses far surpasses our En^ 
 lish district, for its lakes are. habitually calm : for hours 
 at a time they present an almost absolute stillness ; they 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER, 341 
 
 are beautifully clear, and the mountains around them are 
 not only of great lieight and picturesque shape, but, 
 except in the height of summer, are half covered with 
 snow ; the clouds are of a more dazzling whiteness than 
 in England, and the sky is of a deeper blue. There, most 
 emphatically, if I may be allowed slightly to alter 
 Wordsworth's lines — 
 
 " The visible scene 
 May enter unawares into the mind, 
 "With all its solemn imagery, its woods, 
 Its snow, and that divinest heaven received 
 Into the bosom of the placid lake." 
 
 The poet just quoted has tried to explain the singular 
 effect upon the mind of such mirrored scenes by saying, 
 that "the imagination by their aid is carried into recesses 
 of feeling otherwise impenetrable." And he goes on to 
 explain that the reason for this is, that "the heavens are 
 not only brought down into the bosom of the earth, but 
 that the earth is mainly looked at and thought of through 
 the medium of a purer element. The happiest time is 
 when the equinoctial gales have departed ; but their fury 
 may probably be called to mind by the sight of a few 
 shattered boughs, whose leaves do not differ in colour 
 from the faded foliage of the stately oaks from which 
 these relics of the storm depend : all else speaks of 
 tranquillity ; not a breath of air, no restlessness of insects, 
 and not a moving object perceptible, except the clouds 
 gliding in the depths of the lake, or the traveller passing 
 along, an inverted image, whose motion seems governed 
 by the quiet of a time to which its archetype, the living 
 person, is perhaps insensible : or it may happen that the 
 figure of one of the larger birds, a raven or a heron, is 
 crossing silently among the reflected clouds, while the 
 noise of the real bird, from the element aloft, gently 
 awakens in the spectator the recollection of appetites 
 
342 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 and instincts, pursuits and occupations, that deform 
 and agitate fhe world, yet have no power to prevent 
 nature from putting on an aspect capable of satisfying 
 the most intense cravings for the tranquil, the lovely, 
 and the perfect, to which man, the noblest of her creatures, 
 is subject." But the reasons thus suggested, rather than 
 explicitly pointed out, are scarcely sufficient to explain 
 the singular charm of a beautiful upland and cloudland 
 scene reflected in a deep, calm, clear lake. Its most 
 powerful suggestion is that of an under-world into which 
 all things beautiful must pass, and where there is re- 
 served for them a tranquillity and permanence unknown 
 on earth. We seem to look into that under-world ; the 
 beauty of the earth appears under other conditions than 
 those of our upper world ; and we seem to catch a 
 glimpse of the abiding forms of life, and of a more 
 spiritual existence into which we ourselves may pass, yet 
 one that will not be altogether strange to us. Some 
 of our latest speculators have attempted to prove the 
 existence of such a world even from the admitted facts 
 of physical science ; and in all ages it has been the 
 dream of poetry and the hope of religion that beyond 
 the grave, and perhaps -beyond countless ages of pheno- 
 menal existence, or separated from us only by the veil 
 of mortality, there is another and more perfect form of 
 life — "the pure, eternal, and unchangeable" of Plato as 
 well as of Christianity. No argument can be drawn in 
 favour of such views from the under-world of a placid 
 lake ; but the contemplation of it is suggestive, and is 
 favourable to that mood of mind in which we long and 
 hope for a land where 
 
 *' Ever pure and mirror-bright and even, 
 Life amidst tlie immortals glides away ; 
 Moons are waning, generations changing, 
 Their celestial life blooms everlasting, 
 Changeless 'mid a ruined world's decay." 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 343 
 
 The VVular is the largest remnant of that great lake 
 which once filled the Vale of Kashmir, and it too must 
 disappear ere any long period of time elapses. Captain 
 Bates says, correctly that it " is a lake simply because its 
 bottom is lower than the bed of the Jhelam ; it will dis- 
 appear by degrees as the bed of the pass at Baramula 
 becomes more worn away by the river ; its extent is 
 perceptibly becoming more circumscribed by the depo- 
 sition of soil and detritus on its margin." This is not 
 at all unlikely, as the average depth is only about twelve 
 feet. Its greatest length is twelve miles, and its greatest 
 breadth ten, so that it is by no means so grand a sheet 
 of water as that of Geneva ; but there is something in 
 its character which reminds one of Lake Leman, and 
 arises probably from the stretch of water which it pre- 
 sents, and the combined softness and grandeur of the 
 scenery around. Lofty mountains rise almost imme- 
 diately from its northern and eastern sides ; but there is 
 room all round the lake for the innumerable villages 
 which enliven its shore. Calm as it usually is, furious 
 storms often play upon its surface, and in one of these 
 Ranjit Singh lost 300 of the boats carr)-ing his retinue 
 and effects. In the beginning of spring some of the 
 wildfowl of this and the other lakes of Kashmir take 
 flight to the distant valleys ofYarkund and Kashgar ; 
 and, in connection with that migration, the Kashmiris 
 have a very curious story. They say that the birds, being 
 aware of the difficulty of finding food in the streams 
 of Tibet, which have only stony banks and beds, take 
 with them a supply of the singhara, or water-nut of 
 Kashmir, for food on their journey. Such forethought 
 is rare among the lower creation. I once, however, had 
 a large dog, which, when it saw me ready to start on a 
 journey, would try and get hold of a bone or something 
 of the kind, and take that down with it to the railway, 
 
344 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 in order to relieve the tedium of confinement in the 
 dog-box ; 9.nd, of course, animals bring food to their 
 young. 
 
 At Baramula I took leave of the great valley of Kash- 
 mir. From thence a path leads up to the mountain- 
 town of Gulmarg, the most favourite of the sanitariums 
 of Kashmir, and from whence a splendid view may be 
 obtained of the wonderful 26,000-feet peak of Nanglia 
 Parbat, which rises about a hundred miles to the north, 
 between the districts of Chilas and Astor. Immediately 
 below Baramula, and after leaving the great valley, the 
 Jhelam changes its character, and becomes a swift, 
 furious river, on which boats cannot be used at all, 
 except at one or two calmer places, w^here they are used 
 for ferries, being attached by ropes to the bank. Along 
 these are paths on both sides of the river, but that on 
 the left or southern bank is much preferable, both be- 
 cause the bridle-road is better, and it is much more 
 shaded. Seven easy marches took me to the town of 
 Mozafarabad, and I did not enjoy that part of my jour- 
 ney the less that I have almost nothing to say about it. 
 The scenery is most beautiful, and fills the mind with a 
 sense of calm pleasure. Though the valley is narrow, it 
 is thickly wooded, and the dark forest glades .spread out, 
 here and there, into more open spaces, with green mea- 
 dows. Great black precipices alternate with wooded 
 slopes ; there are beautiful halting-places under immense 
 trees, and the path often descends into dark cool*gorges, 
 where there are picturesque bridges over the foaming 
 mountain streams. It mu.st be delightful to come on 
 this Jhelam valley in April or Ma)' from the burned-up 
 plains of India, and it might revive even a dying man. 
 Among the trees there were flocks of monkeys, which 
 drove my Tibetan dogs frantic ; and bears are to be 
 found in the wild mountain vallevs which branch off 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 345 
 
 from this larger valley. The rest-houses erected by the 
 Maharajah of Kashmir were not free from insects, espe- 
 cially fleas, and the bridle-path went up and down more 
 than was strictly necessar}^ ; but I hear better house? 
 have been erected, or are in course of erection, and the 
 rOad is being improved. As no charge was made for 
 stopping in the rest-houses, one could not complain 
 of them ; but the new houses are to be charged for, 
 like travellers' bungalows in British India. At one of 
 the wildest parts of the river, a Kashmiri said to me, 
 " Decco," or, " Look here, Sahib ! " and plunged from a 
 high rock into the foaming stream. The most obvious 
 conclusion was that he had found life and the Maha- 
 rajah's officers too much for him ; but he reappeared a 
 long way down, tossed about by the river, and displaA'ed 
 the most wonderful swimming I have ever seen. 
 
 Mozafarabad is in the corner of the junction between 
 the Jhelam and the Kishen Ganga, or the river Krishna. 
 The valley of the latter stream is, for the most part, a 
 mere chasm among the mountains, and some of its 
 scenery is said to be exceedingly wild and beautiful. 
 Mozafarabad is an important town, with about twelve 
 hundred families, and a largefort, and stands on the last 
 and lowest ridge of the mountains which form the water- 
 shed between the two rivers. Here I left the road, 
 which takes on to the hill-station of Mari and to the 
 Panjab plains at Rawal Pindi, and crossed the Kishen 
 Ganga, as well as the Jhelam, in order to proceed to 
 Abbotabad and the Afghan border. 
 
 Thus I have now to enter upon an entirely different 
 district of country from any I have yet described in 
 these chapters. We have to go along the base of the 
 Hindu Kush, below mountains into which the English 
 traveller is not allowed to enter,and which are peopled 
 by hardy warlike mountaineers, very different in charac- 
 
346 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 ter from the placid Tibetans and effeminate Kashmiris. 
 The first district through which I have to pass is called 
 the Hazara, and extends from near Mozafarabad to the 
 Indus where it issues from the Hindu Kush ; the second 
 is the Yusufzai district, which occupies the triangle 
 formed by the Indus, the Kaubul river, and the moun- 
 tains just referred to ; and beyond these districts I have 
 only to speak of Peshawar, and of an excursion a short 
 way up the famous Khyber Pass. All that border has 
 seen a great deal of fighting by British troops — and 
 fighting without end before any British appeared on the 
 scene, or even existed ; and even before Alexander the 
 Great took the rock-fortress of Aornos, which we have 
 to visit under guard of Afghan chiefs and horsemen in 
 chain-armour. 
 
 Mozafarabad is only 2470 feet high, and a steep 
 mountain ridge separates it from the more elevated 
 valley of the Kunhar river, which is inhabited by 
 Afghans who are under the dominion of Great Britain. 
 On passing from the Kashmir to the English border, 
 I found an excellent path, on which mountain-guns 
 might easily be carried, and descended on the village 
 of Gurhi Hubli, where large-bodied, often fair-com- 
 plexioned, Afghans filled the streets. This place is 
 too close to the border of Afghanistan to be altogether 
 a safe retreat ; but there are a large number of armed 
 policemen about it. Scorn me not, romantic reader, if 
 my chief association connected with it is that of the 
 intense pleasure of finding myself in a travellers' bun- 
 galow ouce more. Our estimate of these much-abused 
 edifices depends very much on the side we take them 
 from. After having snow for the carpet of your tent, 
 and visits at night from huge Tibetan bears, there is 
 some satisfaction in finding yourself quite safe from 
 everything except some contemptible rat or a (compara- 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 347 
 
 lively) harmless grey scorpion. There is also comfort 
 in being free from the insects of the Kashmir rest- 
 houses. People who have never lived in anything but 
 houses must lose half the pleasure of living in a house. 
 How the first man who made a dwelling for himself 
 must have gloated over his wretched contrivance, until 
 some stronger man came and took possession of it ! 
 But the bungalows of the Hazara district are particu- 
 larly well built and luxurious, just as if distinguished 
 travellers were constantly in the habit of visiting that 
 extremely out-of-the-way part of the world ; and their 
 lofty rooms afforded most grateful coolness and shade; 
 while my wearied servants were delighted to remit the 
 business of cooking for me to the Government klian- 
 saniaJi, while reserving to themselves the right and plea- 
 sure of severely criticising his operations and tendering 
 to him any amount of advice. 
 
 The next day took me along a beautiful road over 
 another but a low mountain pass, and winding among 
 hills which were thickly covered w:ith pines and cedars. 
 The forest here was truly magnificent, and perfect still- 
 ness reigned under its shade. Emerging from that, I 
 came down on the broad Pukli valley, on the other side 
 of which, but at some distance, were visible the wooded 
 heights of the Mataban, or Black Mountain, which was 
 the scene of one of the most bloodless of our hill- 
 campaigns. I stopped that night of the 4th November 
 at Mansera, and witnessed a total eclipse of the moon, 
 which was then at the full. This seemed to cause a 
 good deal of consternation among the people of the 
 village, and they moaned and wailed as if the heavens 
 and the earth were in danger of passing away. 
 
 Another day took me to Abbotabad, which is a con- 
 siderable military station, and commands a large portion 
 of the frontier. It is 4166 feet high, and being a little 
 
348 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 above the thirt}^- fourth degree of north latitude, it has a 
 cool and fine climate. A good deal of rain fell during 
 the few days that I was there, and the air felt very much 
 like that of a wet English September or October ; while 
 the church and the character of the houses gave the place 
 quite an English look. Rising close above it, at the 
 height of 9000 feet, there is the sanitarium of Tandiani, 
 which can easily be reached in a very few hours, so that 
 the officers stationed at this place are particularly fortu- 
 nate. I wonder it is not more taken advantage of for 
 European troops. Not even excepting artillerymen, all 
 the troops there were Goorkhas, Panjabis, or Hindu- 
 sthanis ; but no doubt there are military reasons for 
 this, Abbotabad being so far from any railway: but it 
 stands to reason that an important frontier station of this 
 kind would be much the better of an English force. 
 
 Anglo-Indian society shows to advantage in these 
 secluded military stations, and I was at once made to 
 feel quite at home by the officers and their families at 
 Abbotabad. I had the advantage, too, of being the 
 guest of General Keyes, an officer who distinguished 
 himself greatly in the Umbeyla campaign, in which he 
 was wounded, and who commanded the whole of the 
 frontier forces, from Kashmir round the northern border 
 to Peshawar, and from Peshawar, excluding the district 
 of that name, down to Dehra Ghazi'Khan, a little below 
 Multan. This, of course, involves the direction of many 
 regiments; and the officer commanding the frontier is 
 not properly under the Commander-in-chief in India, 
 but under the direction of the Panjab Government. In 
 the Peshawar district, which occurs in the midst of his 
 border, the state of matters is difTerent, all the large 
 number of troops there being directly under the Com- 
 mander-in-chief That seems an anomalous state of 
 affairs ; but the reason for it is, that the Afehan frontier 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 349 
 
 being exceedingly difficult to manage, the Government 
 of the Panjab is supposed to require a large body of 
 troops on that frontier at its own direct disposal, while 
 it is equally necessary for the Commander-in-chief in 
 India to have a large force under his orders at Peshawar, 
 which fronts the Khyber Pass, and is the key of our 
 trans-Indus possessions. 
 
 Abbotabad I saw when it was in a rather lively state, 
 there being a marriage, a death, and sundry other minor 
 events, during my very brief stay there. It was also 
 much exercised by a ritualistic clergyman, who availed 
 himself of the rare occasion of a marriage to act in a 
 manner which threw the whole small community into a 
 state of excitement, and who insisted on the bride and 
 bridegroom partaking of the sacrament of the Lord's 
 Supper on the morning of their wedding-day. When 
 chaplains in India give themselves the rein, they can 
 indulge in many curious freaks. At another Indian 
 station which I visited, my host told • me that, at an 
 evening party at his (my host's) house, ^ the chaplain 
 marched his own bishop before a large cheval-glass, and 
 asked him if he had seen the latest portrait of the gorilla 1 
 It is a pity that the good bishop had not the presence 
 of mind to say that he recognised a resemblance in the 
 figure standing behind him. But the Abbotabad chap- 
 lain's proceedings did little more than give a zest to the 
 festivities connected with the marriage, which was that 
 of a daughter of the popular officer commanding the 
 station ; but ere they came to a close, they were ter- 
 ribly interfered with by the death of Captain Snow, who 
 expired suddenly from heart-disease — a malady which 
 seems to be singularly common in the north of India — 
 almost immediately after returning to his bungalow from 
 the communion service which the chaplain had insisted 
 on holding the morning of the marriage-day. He left a 
 
3SO THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 young widow; and I have since noticed that other mem- 
 bers of those Abbotabad parties, who were full of life and 
 humour, and distinguished by more graceful charms, 
 have unexpectedly passed away. 
 
 From Abbotabad I proceeded in three easy marches 
 to Torbela, where the dangerous part of the frontier com- 
 mences. Up to Torbela I had only a couple of sowars, 
 or native horse-soldiers, with me ; but from the Indus 
 on to the fort of Hoti Mardan, I was guarded with as 
 much care as if I were three viceroys rolled into one. 
 As a matter of convenience, even a single sowar riding 
 behind one is a nuisance to a meditative traveller, espe- 
 cially when the M.T. is suffering from rheumatism in 
 the back, which makes riding painful to him ; and I 
 would gladly have dispensed with the escorts which 
 were provided for me. It is not usual to allow any 
 Englishman, except officers on duty, to go along this part 
 of the frontier, which touches on the territory of the 
 Akoond of Swat ; and I was enabled to do so only by 
 the special permission of the Viceroy and the Comman- 
 der-in-chief. The border authorities were thus respon- 
 sible for my safety, and they took care to see that no 
 harm befell me from the wild tribes of the mountains 
 round the base of which I skirted. The reason of this 
 anxiety was thus explained to me by a humorous officer : 
 " Do not suppose," he said, " that the Panjab authorities 
 mean to do you any special honour ; they probably wish 
 you far enough. The case is this : if the hillmen get 
 hold of you — and they would be very likely to make a 
 dash at you over the border if you went unprotected — 
 they would carry you up into the mountains, and would 
 then write to the Panjab Government offering to ex- 
 change you against some of their own budmasJies which 
 we have in prison. The Government would pro- 
 bably take no notice of this communication ; and, after 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDEE, 351 
 
 the lapse of a little time, there would come down a 
 second letter from the S\vat hillmen, repeating- the pro- 
 posal, and containing the first joint of your little finger. 
 The next day^another letter would come with the second 
 joint. Now, you see, it would be extremely unpleasant 
 for the Panjab Government to be receiving joints of your 
 fingers, day after day, in official letters." 
 
 Torbela is a village, or rather a congeries of small 
 villages, and a large fortified police Thana on one side 
 of the Indus. Opposite to it, and divided from this 
 extreme corner of our territory by the river, there is. the 
 wild mountain Afghan district of Bunnair ; and imme- 
 diately opposite Torbela there is the fighting village of 
 Kubbul or Kabal, chock-full of murderers and other 
 • fugitives from British justice; while, on the same side, 
 three miles farther up, and also on the right bank of the 
 Indus, there is Sitana, for long famous as the headquar- 
 ters of the Wahabhi and other fanatics, who kept up 
 an agitation in India for b. Jehad, or holy war, and are 
 supposed by some to have instigated the assassination 
 of Lord Mayo and of Mr Justice Norman. 
 
 It occurred to me very forcibly here that now or 
 never was my chance of crossing the border and seeing- 
 an Afghan village in its primitive simplicit}-. The 
 British Government does not allow its subjects to cross 
 the border, owing to the above-mentioned accident 
 which may happen to their fingers ; but I thought 
 there could be nothing wrong in my crossing to a 
 village which was in sight of our own territory, and 
 could easily be destroyed. The next day I was to be 
 handed over to the guards of the Yusufzai district ; 
 and, meanwhile, had only to deal with tiie native 
 , Thanadar in command of the armed police. That 
 functionary, however, would not countenance any such 
 proposal, and told me that Kubbul was a particularly 
 
THE ABODE OF SNOV/. 
 
 bad place to go to ; that a few nights before it had 
 come over and attacked one of the villages on his side 
 of the Indus, and that, at the moment, it was fighting 
 within itself. 
 
 This looked bad ; but fortunately, a few minutes after, 
 one of my servants came up to the roof of the Thana, on 
 which I was sitting, and told me a curious story about 
 the Jemadar, the second in command. That hero had 
 once been in this or some other police Thana, in which 
 a considerable sum of money was lying, when it was 
 attacked at night by a number of Afghans from beyond 
 the border. Judging the attacking force to be over- 
 powering, the Thanadar and his police fled, probably no 
 resistance being made to that, as the money was the 
 object of the raid ; but old Hagan, as I shall call the 
 Jemadar, after the hero of the " Nibelungen Lied," who 
 fought a similar fight, but in a less successful manner, 
 remained behind, concealed in the darkness of the night 
 and of the Thana. Before- the Afghans had broken, into 
 the place where the money was, he attacked them single- 
 handed with a tremendous sword which he had, cutting 
 down the only torchman they had at the first blow, and 
 then slashing away at them indiscriminately. He had 
 the advantage of knowing that every one about him was 
 an enemy ; while the Afghans, taken by surprise, and 
 confused in the darkness, did not know how many 
 assailants they had to deal with, and began hewing at 
 ■ each other, until the cry got up that the devil was 
 amongst them, and those who were able to do so fled. 
 The Assistant Commissioner of the district came over in 
 hot haste next morning with a body of mounted police, 
 expecting to find the treasury rifled ; but, instead of 
 that, he found my old friend the Jemadar strutting up^ 
 and down the Thana, sword in hand, while a score of 
 Afghans were lying dead or dying round him. 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 353 
 
 On hearing this, it immediateh- struck me that Hagan 
 was exactly the man intended to assist me to Kubbul, 
 so I got him aside and asked him if he would go. 
 Would he go ! Repeating this question, a strange wild 
 light broke out of the old man's eyes; he unsheathed 
 his tremendous blade, of which it might well be said, 
 that— 
 
 "The sword which seemed fit for archangel to wield, 
 Was light in his terrible hand ; " 
 
 and eagerly assured me that if I would only say the 
 word he would go with me not only to Kubbul, but to 
 Swat, which was supposed to be the last place in the 
 world that an Englishman in his senses would dream of 
 visiting. T should have been glad to have accepted this 
 proposal of going to Swat, but felt bound in honour to 
 the high officials who had allowed me to go along the 
 frontier, not to take anything which might look like an 
 unfair advantage of their kindness. On hearing of our 
 intention to cross the river, the Thanadar — who seemed 
 to be a little in awe of his subordinate of the midnight 
 massacre, but who was a proud Mohammedaq who did 
 not like to seem backward in courage — said that he 
 would go also, and, after a little delay, produced a tall 
 red-bearded old man, who had friends on the other side, 
 and would accompany us. I fancy, however, that he 
 must have reasoned with the Jemadar in private upon 
 the subject, because, before starting, that worthy took 
 me aside and said that we had better not sta>' long in 
 Kubbul, because when the people in the mountains 
 heard of our being there they might come down upon 
 us. Our small party was increased by a somewhat un- 
 willing policeman. It was well armed, and though I 
 preferred to trust to the far-famed hospitality of the 
 Afghans, and make no show of arms, I carried more 
 
354 THE ABODE OF SNO W. 
 
 than one weapon of offence concealed about me, and in 
 handy positions. 
 
 So we crossed the splendid and rapid stream of the 
 Indus in a large carved boat of white wood. The fight- 
 ing village of Kubbul rose up almost from the water's 
 edge, and covered both sides of a long ridge which ran 
 parallel with the stream, the narrow valley behind that 
 ridge being partly occupied by a few grain fields, imme- 
 diately behind which were high bare savage mountains, 
 the habitat of those individuals who are supposed to 
 send men's fingers in official letters. All male Kubbul 
 apparently (female portion not being visible, if indeed 
 it exists at all, which I am not in a position to affirm) 
 had turned out to receive us, and lined the shore in a 
 state of great curiosity. On landing, some rupees were 
 presented to me as a token of obeisance, and I touched 
 them instead of pocketing them, as the formal act in- 
 vited me to do ; but which would have been considered 
 ■very bad manners on my part, and would probably have 
 sent' all feelings and obligations of hospitality to the 
 winds. We were then taken over the ridge into the 
 little valley behind, and the head men showed me with 
 great complacency the effects of the warfare in which 
 they had been engaged on the previous day. What 
 appeared to have taken place was that one end of the 
 fighting village of Kubbul had blown out the other end, 
 the place being in a state of too high pressure. It was 
 divided into two parts, and my friends had made 
 breaches in the wall of their neighbours' half and de- 
 stroyed the houses next to that wall. They also showed 
 me a mud tower which they had taken and dismantled ; 
 and this was done with so much pride that I remarked 
 they must be very fond of fighting, on which they 
 assumed quite a different tone, and lamented the sad 
 necessity they had been under of having recourse to 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 
 
 355 
 
 arms — a necessity which was entirely due to the bad 
 and desperate character of their neighbours. On this, 
 even the solemn Thanadar smiled to me, for they them- 
 selves were about as ruffianly and desperate looking a 
 lot as could well be conceived of. Where the enemy 
 was all this time I cannot say. Perhaps he was up in 
 the hills, or keeping quiet in the dilapidated part of the 
 village ; but he could not have been far off, for the fight- 
 ing was renewed that afternoon after we left, and heavy 
 firing went on. I took care not to inquire after him. It 
 was quite enough to have one party to deal with ; and 
 it would have been impolitic to have been appealed to 
 in the dispute, or to have shown any interest in the van- 
 quished. 
 
 After this we sat down in a courtyard, with a large 
 crowd round us, and I was asked if I would wait while 
 they prepared breakfast for me ; and they pressed me 
 to do so. On this the old Jemadar gave me a signifi- 
 cant look, so I compromised the matter by asking for 
 some milk only; and very rich milk it was. Many of 
 the men seated round us were fugitives from Ensrlish 
 justice, and they were not slow to proclaim the fact. 
 One man told me that he had committed a murd.er seven 
 years before in his own village, on our side of the Indus; 
 and he asked me whether, seeing so long a period had 
 elapsed, he might not go back there with safety, adding 
 that his conduct since then had been remarkably good : 
 he had not killed any one since, except in open fight. 
 I referred him to the Thanadar, who, in an alarmed 
 manner, refused to take any responsibility in such a 
 matter.. Mr Downes tells me that when he tried to go 
 from Peshawar to Kafiristan, and was seized, bound, 
 robbed, and sent back, after he had got twenty miles 
 beyond the frontier, and mainly at the instigation of the 
 Peshawar police, the Afghans who seized him asked 
 
356 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 him if he had committed murder or any serious crime ; 
 because in that case the}^ would not rob him or send 
 him back, but would either protect him or let him go on 
 among the mountains as he might desire ; but, unfor- 
 tunately for his enterprise, my friend could not claim 
 the necessary qualifications. Behram Khan, who mur- 
 dered Major Macdonald this year of my journey and 
 immediately crossed the frontier, has never been deli- 
 vered up or punished, though the Amir of Kaubul has 
 professed great desire to get hold of him, and has issued 
 strict orders for his apprehension. The having com- 
 mitted any serious crime, and being a fugitive from 
 justice, will secure protection am_ong. the Afghans ; but 
 they have a special respect for murderers. Even that, 
 however, is not a sufficient protection beyond a certain 
 point ; for, as Dr Bellew says, " if the guest be worth it, 
 he is robbed or murdered by his late host as soon as 
 beyond the protecting limits of the village boundary, if 
 not convoyed by badraga of superior strength." The 
 badraga is a body of armed men who are paid to con- 
 voy travellers through the limits of their own territory ; 
 so that, after all, the protection is in great part of a 
 venal kind. 
 
 ^ The men who crowded round us did not carry their 
 swords or matchlocks, but they all had daggers, and 
 some of them had been slightly wounded in the fighting 
 of the previous day. Most of the daggers- were ver}' 
 formidable instruments, being about a foot and a half 
 long, thick at the base, tapering gradually, very sharp 
 at the point, sometimes, round or three-cornered, slightly 
 curved, and with thick, strong handles, capable of afford- 
 ing an adequate grasp. They are not like the orna- 
 mental articles of the kind which we see in Europe, but, 
 are meant for use, and would slither into one with great 
 ease, and make a deep, fatal wound. When these noble 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 357 
 
 borderers stab in the stomach, as they are fond of doing, 
 they have a hideous way of working the dagger in the 
 wound before withdrawal, in order to make assurance 
 doubly sure. There was really, however, not the least 
 danger from these people, unless from some extreme 
 fanatic amongst them, who would probably be kept 
 away from me; and though Sitana was within sight, I 
 learned that the colony of discontented Indians there 
 had been removed further into the mountains, as the 
 agitation they kept up in our territory transgressed even 
 the liberal bounds of Afghan hospitality. The question 
 may well be raised as to the expediency of allowing 
 fugitives from English justice to look on us in safety 
 from immediately across the border; but it is at least 
 obvious that we could not well interfere with them with- 
 out departing from the whole line of policy which we 
 have pursued towards Afghanistan of late years. That 
 policy may be — and, I think, is — a mistaken one ; but, 
 if adhered to at all, we require to treat the border as a 
 line which neither party should transgress in ordinary 
 circumstances. 
 
 On recrossing the river, a number of the youth of 
 Kubbul accompanied us on mussaks, or inflated hides, 
 on which they moved with considerable rapid it}% the 
 front of the mussak being in form something like a 
 swan's breast, and gliding easily through or over the 
 water. Some of these skins were so small that they 
 must have been those of sheep or young calves, and 
 each bore a single swimmer, whose body was thus kept 
 out of the water while his limbs were free to paddle in 
 it. From this point to its origin, about the Tibetan 
 Kailas, great part of the long sweep of the Indus is 
 unknown to Europeans, and its course is set down on 
 our maps by a conjectural dotted line. We know it 
 again where it enters Baltistan, and as it passes through 
 
358 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 Ludak, but that is all. Indus incolis SindiLS appellatiis, 
 said Pliny, and the Sanscrit meaning of the word is said 
 to be " the sea ; " but the Aryans who spoke Sancrit 
 must have had rather vague ideas as to what the sea 
 was. As the Sutlej is supposed to proceed from the 
 mouth of a crocodile, so the Indus comes from that of 
 a lion. Edward Thornton, in his "Gazetteer of the 
 Countries adjacent to India," has collected and repro- 
 duced all the information of any importance we have in 
 regard to this great and historically interesting river, 
 and I must refer my reader to that work for the details, 
 as also to General Cunningham's " Ladak." It has been 
 measured near Torbela, and found to be lOO yards 
 broad ; but at Torbela I should think it was about 200 
 yards, though the current was rapid and deep. Between 
 that place and Attock it is so shallow in winter, when it 
 is not fed by melting snow, that there are several points 
 at which it can be forded. From this point, also, boats 
 can go down all the way to the sea, as they can also 
 from very near Kaubul, floating down the Kaubul river 
 till it reaches the Indus. 
 
 Starting from Torbela on the afternoon of this day, I 
 went about seven or eight miles down the left bank of 
 the Indus to a ferry there, nearly opposite the mighty 
 rock of Pihur, which rises on the opposite shore, or 
 rather almost out of the bed of the river, for in seasons 
 of flood this rock is surrounded by the stream. Here 
 I was passed over from the protection of the Huzara 
 authorities to those of the Yusufzai district. Crossing 
 the great river in another of those large high-pooped 
 carved boats of white wood, such as, in all probability, 
 bore Alexander the Great across the Indus, on the 
 opposite bank a very strange sight appeared which 
 looked as if it might have been taken out of the 
 Middle Ages, or even out of the time of the Grecian 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 359 
 
 conqueror. The boundary-line between our territory 
 and that of Afghanistan here leaves the Indus and runs 
 along the foot of the Hindu Kush, and one is supposed 
 now to be in special need of being taken care of; so I 
 U-as received on landing, and with great dignity, by a 
 number of Afghan Khans belonging to our side of the 
 border, by a native officer of police, a body of mounted 
 police, and a number of the retainers of the Khans, 
 some of whom were horsemen in chain-armour. 
 
 Nothing could be more picturesque than the scene. It 
 was now evening, and through the clear air the red light 
 of the setting sun flamed over the yellow sands of the 
 Indus, and burned on the high summits of the wild 
 mountains around. The Afghan chiefs, with the re- 
 tainers beside them, and their fine horses, were pic- 
 turesque enough figures ; but the most picturesque 
 feature in the scene was, undoubted!}', the men in chain- 
 armour, who carried immensely long spears, rode the 
 wildest and shaggiest looking of horses, wore brass 
 helmets on their heads over crimson handkerchiefs, and 
 galloped about between us and the hills, shaking their 
 long spears, as if an immediate descent of the enemy 
 was expected and they were prepared to do battle for 
 us to the death. Unfortunately, the enemy never did 
 put in an appearance all the way along the border ; 
 but the men in armour did very well instead, and im- 
 parted a -delightful sense of danger to the mysterious 
 mountains. 
 
 The rock of Pihur is between 300 and 4CO feet high, 
 and it would be a pleasant place of residence were it not 
 for the wind, which blows very violently up or down the 
 Indus valley, and did so all night when I was there. 
 Here I began to realise for the first time (belief being 
 quite a different thing) that I was of some importance 
 in the world. Guards slept in the veranda of the bun- 
 
36o THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 galow in which I v/as, though it was placed on the 
 extreme summit of the rock, and looked down preci- 
 pices ;, guards paced round it all night ; there was a 
 guard half-way down the rock ; another guard at the 
 foot of the rock ; and when I looked down to the 
 valley below, in the morning before day-break, there 
 were my friends in chain-armour riding round the rock 
 in the moonlight, but slowly, and drooping in their 
 saddles as if they were asleep and recruiting after the 
 fatigues of the day. 
 
 In'om Pihiir w^e rode about twenty miles along the 
 base of the mountains to the Thana of Swabi, passing 
 through the village of Topi, the Khan of which accom- 
 panied us on the journey. The mountains here and all 
 along the border have a very singular effect, because 
 they rise so suddenly above the plain. Our trans-Indus 
 territory is here almost a dead level, being broken only 
 by water-courses, at this season dry, which descends 
 abruptly below the surface of the plain. From this wide 
 level, which is scarcely 1 800 feet above the sea, the 
 mountains of the Hindu Kush rise quite abruptly for 
 thousands of feet, range towering above range till we. 
 come to the line of snowy summits. As I have already 
 pointed out, these mountains are really a continuation 
 of the Himaliya, being separated from the latter by the 
 gorge of the Indus, and running more directly to the 
 west. Sir A. Burnes has told us that the name Hindu 
 Kush is unknown to the Afghans, but that there is a 
 particular peak, and also a pass, bearing that name. 
 This mountain is far from our present neighbourhood, 
 being between Afghanistan and Turkestan. A good deal 
 of doubt hangs over the derivation and meaning of the 
 word ; but, fancifully or not, the Kush has been iden- 
 tified with the Caucasus of Pliny, and the whole of the 
 immense range from the Himaliya to the Paropamisan 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 361 
 
 Mountains, is known in this country as the Indian Cau- 
 casus. It is supposed to have a maxinium height of 
 about 20,000 feet, but very little really is known about 
 it, and that adds to the interest of the range. Its highest 
 peak or cluster of peaks appears to be the Koh-i-Baba, 
 the Hindu Kush proper, between Kaubul and Bami'an ; 
 and in the near neighbourhood of the British border 
 there seem to be no peaks quite 16,060 feet high, 
 though some way back from it, beyond Swat, there is 
 one of 18,564, and another of 19,132, the altitudes of 
 these heights, I presume, having being taken from 
 points within our own territory, or that of Kashmir. 
 In geological formation these mountains do not seem to 
 differ much from the Himaliya, being chiefly composed 
 of quartz, granite, gneiss, mica-schist, slates, and lime- 
 stone ; but they are richer in metals — namely, gold, 
 lead, copper, tin, iron, and antimony. The most re- 
 markable difference between the two ranges is, that in 
 their western portion the Hindu Kush are not backed to 
 the north by elevated table-lands like those of Tibet, 
 but sink abruptly into the low plains of Turkestan. 
 They are even more destitute of wood than the Hi- 
 maliya, but have more valleys, which are sometimes 
 better than mere gorges. 
 
 The Thana at Swabi is a very large strong place, 
 with high walls, and could stand a siege by the moun- 
 taineers. It was here arranged that I should make a 
 day's excursion, and recross the frontier, in order to visit 
 the famous ruins of Ranikhet or Ranigat. This, however, 
 I was told, was not a journey to be lightly undertaken. 
 The Thanadar of Swabi, the officer of police, and quite 
 a number of Afghan Khans, with their followers (in- 
 cluding the inevitable horsemen in chain-armour), 
 thought it necessary to accompany me, all armed to 
 the teeth, and mounted on fine horses. The chiefs who 
 
362 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 went with me were Mir Ruzzun, Khan of Topi; Manir, 
 Khan of Jeda ; Shah Aswur, Khan of Manir ; Sumundu, 
 Khan of Maneri ; Amir, Khan of Shewa ; Husain Shah, 
 the Thanadar of Swabi ; and the officer of poHce, Khan 
 Bahadur Jhunota, or some such name. It was a most 
 imposing retinue ; and in lieu of my solid Khiva horse, 
 they mounted me on a splendid and beautiful steed, 
 which Avould have been much more useful than my own 
 for the purpose of running away, if that had been at all 
 necessary. I could well, however, have dispensed with 
 this arrangement, for by this time I had begun to suffer 
 intensely from intercostal rheumatism ; I could get no 
 sleep because of it, and every quick movement on horse- 
 back was torture. I should like to have ridden slowly 
 to Ranigat, a distance of about twelve miles from the 
 Thana, as the quietest and humblest of pilgrims ; but it 
 is impossible to ride slowly on a blood-horse, with half- 
 a-dozen Afghan Khans prancing round you ; and how- 
 ever much you wished to do so, the blood-horse would 
 object, so I had to lead a sort of steeplechase, especially 
 in coming back, when, my blood having got thoroughly 
 heated by torture and climbing, the rheumatism left me 
 for the nonce, and by taking a bee line, I easily out- 
 stripped the Khans, who must have been somewhat 
 exhausted by their long fast, it being the month of 
 Ramadan, when good Mohammedans do not taste 
 anything from sunrise to sunset. This horse I had 
 must have been worth ;;^20O at least; and when I re- 
 turned it to its owner, he told me that he could not 
 think of taking it away from me after I had done him 
 the honour of riding upon it, I accepted this offer at 
 its true value, and found no difficulty in getting the 
 Khan to take back his steed. I was curious enough to 
 inquire at Mardan what would have been the result if I 
 had accepted the offer, and was told that it would have 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 363 
 
 caused endless indignation, and would probably have 
 led to the murdqr, not of myself, but of somebody who 
 had nothing whatever to do with the affair. 
 
 Leaving our horses at the little village of Nowigram, 
 we climbed on foot for a thousand feet up the steep hill on 
 which are the ruins of Ranigat. General Cunningham* 
 has the merit of having identified this place with the 
 Aornos of Alexander the Great. The antiquarian 
 discussion on this point would hardly interest the 
 general reader ; so I shall only say that no other place 
 which has been suggested suits Aornos so well as 
 Ranigat, though something may be said in favour, of 
 General Abbott's view, that Aornos was the Mahaban 
 mountain. f Rani-gat means the Queen's rock, and got 
 this name from the Rani of Raja Vara. It has every 
 appearance of having been a petra or " rock-fortress," 
 the word applied to Aornos by Diodorus and Strabo. 
 The Khans vvho were with me called Ranigat a fort, 
 and any one would do so who had not a special power 
 of discovering the remains of ancient monasteries. Dr 
 Bellew does not seem to have visited this place ; but in 
 his valuable report on the Yusufzai district,:}: he refers 
 to it as one of a series of ruins, and dwells on the 
 monastic features which they present. He is especially 
 eloquent on the "hermit cells," which, he says, "are met 
 with on the outskirts of the ruins of Ranigat;" and 
 argues that the apertures sloping from them, and 
 opening out on the faces of the precipices, were " for the 
 purpose of raking away ashes and admitting a current 
 of air upwards." Having got so far, the learned doctor 
 proceeds to draw a pleasing picture of the priests issuing 
 from their chambers, crossing to the gateway of the 
 
 * See his " Ancient Geography of India, I. The Budhist Period," p. 58. 
 •^ ^z& Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, 1854, p. 309, and 1863, 
 p. 409. X Government Press. Lahore, 1864. 
 
364 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 temple, ascending its steps, making their obeisance to 
 the assembly of the gods, offering incense, making- 
 sacrifices, " and then retiring for meditation to the 
 solemn and dark silence of their subterranean cells." Un- 
 fortunately, however, there is, another and much more 
 probable theory in regard to these subterranean cells, and 
 that is that they were simply public latrines. Hence 
 the sloping aperture out on the precipices. The plateau 
 which forms the summit of the hill is strongly fortified 
 by immensely strong buildings which run round it, and 
 are composed of great blocks of hewn stone sometimes 
 carefully fitted on each other, and in other places 
 cemented as it were by small stones and thin slabs. 
 This plateau is about 1200 feet in length by 800 in 
 breadth, and is a mass of ruins. Separated from the 
 external works and the "subterranean cells," the citadel 
 is 500 feet long and 400 broad. A number of broken 
 statues,' chiefly figures of Budha, have been found 
 among these ruins, and also one statue with the Mace- 
 donian cloak. The whole of this Yusufzai district is 
 full of the most interesting antiquarian remains, such 
 as ruins, statues, bas-reliefs, and coins, indicating the 
 existence of a large population, of great cities, of arts, of 
 an advanced civilisation, and of nations which have long 
 since disappeared. A great part of these remains are 
 Budhistic, a few have relation to Alexander the Great and 
 his Greeks, and a larger number belong to the empires 
 of the Graeco-Bactrians, Indo-Bactrians, and Scythians. 
 In order to do justice to this subject, a fuller treatment 
 of it would be necessary, but I must content myself 
 with merely alluding to it. 
 
 There is a fine wild view from Ranigat up the 
 mountains of the Hindu Kush, and it is close to the 
 entrance of the Umbeyla Pass, wherea iQ.\N }-ears ago 
 we had some very severe fighting with the hill-men. 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 365 
 
 Their conduct had rendered it necessary to teach them 
 a lesson, and a large British force was sent into the 
 pass ; but the Afghans swarmed down upon it in large 
 numbers and fought like devils. The British soldier did 
 not show to his usual advantage in this campaign, and 
 one regiment retreated rather ignominiously from a post 
 which it ought to have held. In order to insure the 
 retaking of this position, Sir Neville Chamberlain, the 
 commander of the force, placed himself at the head of 
 the attacking column, and, rumour has it, turned round 
 and said, "There must be no running away this time," 
 on whiph the colonel of one regiment replied, "The 
 — th don't require to be told that. General." 
 
 This portion of Afghanistan is scarcely even nominally 
 under the sway of the Amir of Kaubul, and is virtually 
 ruled by the Akoond of Swat, who is rather a spiritual 
 than a temporal prince, but exercises a good deal of 
 temporal power over the chiefs in his territory. He was 
 ninety years old at the time of my visit to the Yusufzai, 
 and had the reputation of being an extremely bigoted 
 Mohammedan, not averse to stirring up 2, jeliad against 
 the infidels in India ; and in this respect his son was 
 said to be even worse than himself Fortunately, how- 
 ever, we have a counter-check to him in the Mullah of 
 Topi, within our own district, who exercises a great 
 religious influence over the Afghans, and is a rival of 
 the Akoond. 
 
 I had made a good deal of acquaintance with 
 Afghans before this journey, and must say a word in 
 regard to their character. They are a very strange mix- 
 ture of heroism and cowardice, fidelity and treachery, 
 kindness and cruelty, magnanimity and meanness, high- 
 sounding morality and unspeakably atrocious vicious- 
 ness. Though their language affords no countenance 
 to their own belief that they are sons of Israel, and the 
 
366 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 linguist scoffs at this supposition in his usual manner, 
 I think there is something in it. In physical appear- 
 ance and in character they resemble the Hebrews of 
 history; and it is unscientific, in judging of the origin 
 of a people, to place exclusive reliance on one par- 
 ticular, such as language. Much meditation over this 
 subject has also convinced me that our modern writers 
 are far too much given to drawing hard and fast lines 
 when treating of ethnology. They get hold of a race or 
 a nation somewhere in the past, and virtually, indeed 
 often unconsciously, assume that it has become stereo- 
 typed for all time, leaving out of mind that circum- 
 stances similar to those which form a race are continually 
 modifying its peculiarities. As to the Afghans, I deem 
 it likely that there is some truth in all the theories 
 which have been started as to their origin. They are 
 probably partly Semitic, partly Aryan, partly Asiatic, 
 and partly European. There is nothing improbable in 
 the supposition that their Hebrew blood has been 
 mingled with that of the soldiers of Alexander the 
 Great and of the Greek colonists of the Grseco-Bactrian 
 kingdoms, and also 9f the Asiatic Albanians who were 
 driven across Persia. The Indo-Bactrians, again, may 
 have modified the race; and this theory of a com- 
 posite origin affords some explanation of the incon- 
 sistencies of the Afghan character. 
 
 Afghan history is a dreadful story of cruelty, faithless- 
 ness, perfidy, and treachery. Though they may under- 
 stand the matter among themselves, yet it is impossible 
 for the European to draw any line within which the 
 Pathans may be trusted. The tomb of Cain is said to 
 be in Kaubul, and the popular belief is that the devil 
 fell there when he was thrown out of heaven. These are 
 the views of the Afghans themselves, and a double 
 portion of the spirit of Cain seems to have descended 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 367 
 
 upon them. In one small village through which I 
 passed, there had been twelve secret assassinations 
 within nine months. Among these people you have 
 perpetually recurring reasons, in the shape of dead 
 bodies, for putting the questions, " Who is she ? " and 
 " How much was it } " for their murders proceed usually 
 from quarrels as to women, or land, or cattle. A good 
 many of our officers on the frontier have been assas- 
 sinated, sometimes out of mere wantonness, and they 
 have to go about armed or guarded. The Afghan 
 monarch Shah Mahmood owed his throne to his Wuzeer 
 Futteh Khan (Barukzei), and the latter was. always 
 careful not to show any want of allegiance or respect 
 for that soyereign ; yet Shah Mahmood, at the instiga- 
 tion of a relative, had his Wuzeer seized, and put out 
 both his benefactor's eyes in the year 18 18. Then he 
 had the unfortunate blind man brought before him 
 bound, and had him deliberately cut to pieces — nose, 
 ears, lips, and then the joints. This is a characteristic 
 Afghan incident, and not the less so that it was a ruinous 
 act for the perpetrator. 
 
 Sir Alexander Burnes, in his account of his journey 
 to Bokhara (vol. ii. p. 124), says of the Afghans that, "if 
 they themselves are to be believed, their ruling vice is 
 envy, which besets even the nearest and dearest relations. 
 No people are more capable of managing intrigue." And 
 yet he adds, " I imbibed a very favourable impression 
 of their national character." But this vice of envy is 
 peculiarly the characteristic which marks off the lower 
 from the higher portion of the human race ; it has, not 
 inappropriately, been assigned as the cause of angels 
 turning into devils ; and it is curious to find that a 
 people like the Afghans, who are possessed by it, can still 
 excite admiration. Mr T. P. Hughes, a well-known, 
 able missionary on the border, who is intimately 
 
368 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 acquainted with these people, says that " the Afghans 
 are a manly race, of sociable and lively habits. All 
 Europeans who have come in contact with them have 
 been favourably impressed with the ver}^ striking- con- 
 trast exhibited by our trans-Indus subjects to the mild 
 Hindu and the miserable Hindusthani and Panjabi 
 .Mohammedans." He also says that their " manly 
 qualities are not unequal to our own," and' that " there 
 are elements of true greatness in the Afghan national 
 character." Yet I was assured by more than one excel- 
 lent authority that one of the most hideous of all vices 
 is openly practised in Kaubul, where a bazaar or street 
 is set apart for it ; and that even in Peshawar the agents 
 of the Church Mission require to be cautious in their 
 conduct towards the boys under their tuition. It is the 
 extraordinary union of virtues and vices which forms 
 the most puzzling feature in the Afghan character. To 
 courage, strength, and the other better features of a wild 
 sentimental mountain people, they unite vices which are 
 usually attributed to the decrepitude of .corrupt civilisa- 
 tions and dying races ; and though their fidelity is often 
 able to overcome torture and death, it as often succumbs 
 to the most trivial and meanest temptations. 
 
 I am inclined to believe that much of the badness of 
 the Afghans is owing to the influence of Mohammedan- 
 ism. One might expect that so simple and intelligible 
 a religion, holding the doctrine of the unity of God, and 
 admitting Christ as one of its line of prophets, would be 
 superior in its effects to polytheistic Hinduism, and espe- 
 cially to Brahmanism, the acceptance of which after and 
 in face of Budhism, involved a moral suicide on the part 
 of the people of India. But certainly my knowledge of 
 India does not support that conclusion. Among a 
 purely Semitic race like the Arabs, secluded among 
 their deserts and -at a certain stereot}'ped stage of 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 369 
 
 thought, Mohammedanism may be good, and it undoubt- 
 edly appears to have exercised a beneficial influence 
 in its removal of ancient superstitions ; but in the larger 
 sphere and greater complications of modern life it be- 
 comes an evil influence, fmm its essentially Pharisaical 
 character and its want of power to touch the human 
 heart. I need not speak of Christianity or of Budhism, 
 with their enthusiasm of love and their doctrines of self- 
 sacrifice : but even in Brahmanism there are humanising 
 influences; and in the older Hinduism, as Dr John Muir 
 has so well shown by his metrical translations, the law 
 of love finds an important place. It is not even the 
 worst of Mohammedanism that it is a system of exter- 
 nal observances and mechanical devotion. Its central 
 idea, as elaborated to-day, is that of the Creator and 
 Governor of the universe as a merciless tyrant, ruling 
 after the caprice of a fathomless will, breaking the clay 
 of humanity into two pieces, throwing the one to the 
 right saying, " These into heaven, and I care not ; " and 
 the other to the left saying, " These into hell, and I care 
 not." Whenever God is thus regarded as an arbitrary 
 tyrant, instead of an all-loving Father whose dealings 
 with His children transcend our knowledge but do not 
 revolt our moral consciousness, religion, or rather that 
 which takes its place, becomes a frightful instrument of 
 evil: and even when the natural working of the human 
 heart is too strong to allow of its being carried out prac- 
 tically to its logical conclusions, on the other hand, it 
 prevents our higher sympathies from being of much 
 practical use. It is worthy of such a system that it 
 should regard a few external observances, and the mere 
 utterance of such a formula as, " There is no God but 
 God, and Mohammed is His prophet," as insuring an 
 entrance into heaven, and that its heaven should be one 
 of purely sensual delight. I do not mean to say that 
 
 2 A 
 
370 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 Mohammed is responsible for all that Mohammed- 
 anism has become ; for even in this case there has been 
 manifested that "curious tendency of religions to thrust 
 forward and deify that which their founders began with 
 repudiating and condemning ; but he is in great part re- 
 sponsible, and of all famous books in the world, the 
 Kuran is about the least edifying. 
 
 Hardy, brave, mean, and wicked a people as the Af- 
 ghans are, they are great lovers of poetry, and have 
 produced not a little poetry of a high order. They are 
 very fond, at night, round their camp-fires, of reciting 
 verses, and these verses are usually of a melancholy 
 kind, relating to love, war, the unsatisfactoriness of all 
 earthly enjoyment, and the cruelty of fate. Captain 
 H. G. Raverty has rendered a great service in presenting 
 us with an almost literal translation of the productions 
 of the more famous Afghan poets;* and these do not 
 at all make the Afghan character more intelligible. 
 When the women of a village ventured to come out to 
 look at me, usually some man with a big stick drove 
 them away with heavy blows, and remarks upon them 
 which even a Rabelais would have hesitated to report ; 
 yet the Afghans have romantic ideas of love, and are 
 fond of singing these beautiful lines : — 
 
 " Say not unto me, 'Why swearest tliou by me?' 
 If I swear not by thee, by whom shall I swear? 
 
 Thou, indeed, art the very light of mine eyes ; 
 This, by those black eyes of thine, I swear! 
 
 In this world thou art my life and my soul, 
 
 And nought else besides ; unto thee, my life, I swear I 
 
 rhou art in truth the all-engrossing idea of my mind, 
 Every hour, every moment, by my God, I swear 1 
 
 • *' Selections from the PoeUy of the Afghans, from the Sixteenth to 
 the Nineteenth Century. Liierally translated from the original Pushtao." 
 London, 1862. 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 371 
 
 The dust of thy feet is an ointment for the eyes — 
 By this very dust beneatli thy feet I swear ! 
 
 My heart ever yearnetli toward tlaee exceedingly — 
 By this very yearning of mine unto thee I swear ! 
 
 When thou laughest, they are nothing in comparison. 
 Both rubies and pearls — by thy laugh I swear ! 
 
 Truly I am thy lover, and thine, thine only — 
 And this I, Kushhal, by thy sweet face swear !" 
 
 Of the despairing melancholy of the Afghan poets it 
 would be easy to quote many instances ; but I prefer to 
 give the following example, also translated by Captain 
 Raverty, by a chief of the clan Khattak, of their stirring 
 war-songs : — 
 
 " From whence hath the spring again returned unto us, 
 Which hath made the country round a garden of flowers? 
 
 There are the anemone and sweet basil, the lily, and the thyme ; 
 The jasmine and white rose, the narcissus, and pomegranate blossom. 
 
 The wild flowers of spring are manifold, and of every hue ; 
 But the dark red tulip above them all predominateth. 
 
 The maidens place nosegays of flowers in their bosoms ; 
 The youths, too, fasten nosegays of them in their turbani 
 
 Come now, maidens, apply the bow to the violin ; 
 Bring out the tone and melody of every string ! 
 
 And thou, cup-bearer, bring us full and overflowing cups, 
 That I may become fraught with wine's inebriety I 
 
 The Afghan youths have again dyed red their hands, 
 
 Like as the falcon dyeth his talons in the blood of the cjuarry. 
 
 They have made rosy their bright swords with gore ; 
 
 The tulip-beds have blossomed even in the heat of summer. 
 
 Ae-mal Khan and Dar-ya Khan — from death preserve them . — 
 Were neither of them at fault when opportunity occurred. 
 
 They dyed red the valley of Khyber with the blood of the foe ; 
 On Karrapah, too, they found both war's din and tumult 
 
372 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 From Karrapah, even unto Bajawar, both plain and mountain, 
 Time after time, as from an earthquake, qualced and shook." 
 
 One day's march from Hoti Mardan, or Murdan, I 
 was handed over to the care of an escort of the Panjab 
 Guides, a famous regiment which is usually quartered 
 in that fort. Its officers showed great hospitality and 
 kindness, and especially Captain Hutchison, whom I 
 had met at Hardwar, as also in Kashmir, and whose 
 shooting expeditions had made him familiar with some 
 of the remotest parts of the Himaliya and with the 
 regions lying to the north of Kashmir. He had just 
 returned from a journey into Gilgit, which he described 
 as exceedingly barren and stony ; and his quarters in 
 the fort were adorned with many trophies of the chase, 
 including quite a pile of the skins of the great snow- 
 bear. 
 
 Elsewhere, I heard a story of an officer who, on get- 
 ting leave after a long period of close service, went up 
 and spent his leave at this little remote fort of Hoti 
 Mardan, where he had formerly been stationed. That 
 was adduced as a remarkable instance of English eccen- 
 tricity ; but I can quite appreciate the man's choice. 
 The officers of a crack regiment in an isolated position 
 make very good company ; there is excellent sport of 
 various kinds, including hawking, to be had at Mardan ; 
 there is just enough of personal danger connected with 
 a residence there to keep one lively; interesting expedi- 
 tions may be made along or across the frontier; the 
 whole country round is full of important antiquities; 
 and the climate during great part of the year is de- 
 lightful. 
 
 According to the regimental records of temperature 
 for the year 1872, the thermometer (in the open air, but 
 in a position sheltered from the sun), had, in the month 
 of January, an extreme range from 27° to 64°, and a 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 373 
 
 mean range from 46° to 52°. In February, the extreme 
 range was from 32° to 'J'^°^ and the mean from 48° to 52°. 
 In April, the extreme range was 53° to 91°, and the mean 
 69° to 82°. The hottest month was June, when the ex- 
 treme range was 70° to 109°, and the mean 92° to 100°. 
 That sounds very dreadful ; but the pure and excessively 
 dry air of these regions does not make a temperature of 
 100° so intolerable as a temperature of 80° is in the 
 moist regions of the coast, or during the rainy season, 
 in those-parts of India which are much exposed to the 
 influence of the south-west monsoon. Evaporation of 
 moisture from the skin and clothes is the great source 
 of coolness in a hot country ; and, of course, the drier 
 the air is, the greater the evaporation and consequent 
 coolness, while, the more the air is loaded with moisture, 
 the less is the evaporation from our persons, and the 
 more we become like furnaces surrounded by some non- 
 heat-conducting substance. So early as September, the 
 climate begins to be delightful at Hoti Mardan, the tem- 
 perature for that month having an extreme range from 
 57° to 98°, and a mean of from 70° to 80°. After that 
 it rapidly approaches the results given for January, and 
 becomes bracing as well as pleasant. 
 
 I went out hawking with the officers one day, and we 
 had some very fine sport, following the birds on horse- 
 back, and being much amused by a large black vulture 
 — a pirate bird — which once or twice made its appear- 
 ance just when the falcon had hunted down its prey, 
 and proceeded to act on the principle of sic vos non vobis, 
 which appears to be one of the fundamental characteris- 
 tics of organic life. Apart from its cruelty (which need 
 not be expatiated on, seeing that all action we know 
 of involves cruelty) the action of the falcon was very 
 beautiful as it steadily pursued its prey, a species of 
 crane, I think, and swooping down upon it, struck it 
 
374 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 again and again on the base of the skull, sending out a 
 small cloud of feathers at every stroke, until the brain 
 was laid open and the bird succumbed. 
 ' Some of the officers at Fort Mardan did not trouble 
 themselves to carry arms, relying upon their sticks or 
 heavy hunting-whips ; but this was unwise. Fort Michni 
 was in sight, and there Major Macdonald had a stick 
 when Behram Khan and the Khan's brother went up to 
 him and fired into him with guns from close quarters. 
 A stick becomes a satire in such circumstances. Even 
 arms, however, are not always a sufficient defence from 
 Afghan assassins. Lieutenant Ommaney, a promising 
 young officer in civil employ, was killed in Hoti Mardan 
 by a scoundrel who presented him with a petition to 
 read, and then stabbed him suddenly when the English- 
 man was engaged in looking over the paper. In this 
 case Mr M'Nab, the acting commissioner of the district, 
 on hearing of the affair at night, rode immediately over 
 from Peshawar to Mardan, a distance of over thirty 
 miles, and had the murderer hanged next morning — 
 possibly without a very strict regard to legal forms, but 
 in a summary manner, which served to put a check, for 
 the time at least, upon what was threatening to become 
 a too common Afghan amusement. 
 
 The Panjab Guides is a rather peculiar regiment, be- 
 ing composed half of foot soldiers and half of horsemen, 
 most of whom are Afghans, and many from beyond our 
 border. They are a splendid set of men, and the regi- 
 ment has always been kept in an admirably effective 
 state. In the Panjab Mutiny Report * it is said that at 
 the outbreak of the great Indian Mutiny "the Guide 
 Corps marched from Mardan six hours after it got the 
 order, and was at Attok (30 miles off) next morning, 
 
 * Lahore, 1S59 ; para. I4Q. 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 375 
 
 fully equipped for service, *a worthy beginning,' writes 
 Colonel Edwards, of ' one of the rapidest marches ever 
 made by soldiers ; for, it being necessar}' to give General 
 Anson every available man to attempt the recovery of 
 Delhi, the Guides were not kept for the movable column, 
 but were pushed on to Delhi, a distance of 580 miles, 
 or 30 regular marches, which they accomplished in 21 
 marches, with only three intervening halts, and these 
 made by order. After thus marching 27 miles a-day 
 for three weeks, the Guides reached Delhi on 9th June, 
 and three hours afterwards engaged the enemy hand to 
 hand, every officer being more or less wounded.' " That 
 shows the splendid state of efficiency in which the Guides 
 were kept. They did something of the same kind in 
 1872, or the beginning of 1873, when sent to the camp 
 of exercise at Hassan Abdul, and I doubt not they 
 would do it to-morrow if necessary. This regiment had 
 only about half-a-dozen European officers when I saw 
 it ; but then it was pretty well beyond the reach of the 
 so-called philanthropic influences which have weakened 
 and are destroying our position in India. The officers 
 were free to rule their men ; and the consequence was, 
 that the soldiers not only looked up to, but liked, and 
 were proud of, their officers. I must repeat emphati- 
 cally, that ability to rule wisely is the only condition on 
 which we have any right to be in India at all, and that 
 the instant we depart from that ground, trouble and 
 disaster commence, whatever the character of that de- 
 parture may be — whether it consist in having inferior 
 English agents in the country or in curbing the hands 
 of the capable ones — whether in stupid want of appre- 
 ciation of the natives of India or in weak pandering to 
 their insaner ambitions. 
 
 Hpti MardaUj as well as the whole northern portion of 
 our trans-Indus territory, is associated with the name of 
 
376 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 a very extraordinary man — General John Nicholson, 
 who was mortally wounded at the siege of Delhi, No 
 Englishman, at least of late years, appears to have left 
 so powerful a personal impression upon the Afghan 
 mind. I found it to be quite true that the Pathans of 
 our district believe that they hear the hoofs of Nichol- 
 son's horse ringing over the trans-Indus plain at night, 
 and that that country shall never pass from our posses- 
 sion so long as these sounds are heard. In the Institute 
 at Delhi there is an oil-painting of him which was made 
 after his death, partly from a small sketch and partly 
 from memory. It represents him as having had a long 
 head and face, with dark hair, and a very finely formed 
 white forehead. In some respects it reminded me of the 
 portrait of Sir Harry Vane in Ham House, and sug- 
 gested more a man of contemplation than of action ; 
 but that is wot an unfrequent characteristic in the coun- 
 tenances of great soldiers. 
 
 One of Nicholson's most splendid achievements was 
 performed near this fort of Hoti Mardan. He was 
 deputy commissioner of the district at the time of the 
 outbreak of the Mutiny, when matters were in a most 
 critical position, and the disaffected native soldiers were 
 urged to move by the Hindusthani sepoys below, and 
 were in correspondence with the Afghan and other fana- 
 tics of Swat and Sitana. If the Panjab saved India, it 
 was our trans-Indus district, which was the most danger- 
 ous in the Panjab, and it was John Nicholson, more em- 
 phatically than any one other man, who saved our trans- 
 Indus possession. The place of the Panjab Guides, 
 when they were despatched to Delhi, was taken by the 
 55th Native Infantry and the loth Irregular Cavalry, the 
 first of which threatened to murder their officers, and the 
 second to " roast " the civil officer of the station. A very 
 small force was sent to Mardan to deal with them, and 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 377 
 
 it was accompanied by Nicholson as political officer, and 
 on its approach, the 55th regiment broke and took to 
 the hills. It was in the end of the month of May, and 
 he had been twenty hours in the saddle, under a burning 
 sun, and had ridden seventy miles that day ; * but, with- 
 out a moment's hesitation he "hurled himself on the 
 fugitives with a handful of police sowars," and did such 
 fearful execution that 150 of them were laid dead on the 
 line of retreat, 150 surrendered, and the greater number 
 of those who escaped op the hills were wounded. The 
 moral effect of this, just when everything was hanging 
 in the balance, cannot be over-estimated. The tide of 
 mutiny had rolled up almost unchecked until it broke 
 upon this rock. 
 
 It has been well said that, at the outbreak of the 
 Mutiny, the valley of Peshawar stood in " a ring of re- 
 pressed hostilities," while beyond that lay the chronically 
 hostile kingdom of Kaubul. The military forces in this 
 valley consisted of 2800 Europeans and 8000 native 
 soldiers of all arms ; and when the intelligence of the 
 events at Delhi and Meerut reached Peshawar, most of 
 the native soldiers became ripe for mutiny. It has often 
 been alleged that the sepoys took no part in the atroci- 
 ties of this dreadful time, and that these were committed 
 only by released felons and other bad characters ; but in 
 the " Panjab Mutiny Report" it is stated (para. 145) that 
 at Peshawar, in May 1857, " the most rancorous and sedi- 
 tious letters had been intercepted from Mohammedan 
 bigots in Patna and Thaneysur, to soldiers of the 64th 
 Native Infantry, revelling in the atrocities that had been 
 committed in Hindusthan on the men, women, and chil- 
 dren of the ' Nazarenes,' and sending them messages 
 
 See " Panjab Mutiny Report," para. 151. 
 
373 THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 from their own mothers that they should emulate these 
 deeds." Communications also were going on between 
 the sepoys in open rebellion and their brethren across 
 the frontier. It was most fortunate that at this juncture 
 Sir Sydney Cotton ordered the disarmament of his native 
 troops ; and there is reason to believe that Nicholson 
 had great influence in leading him to do so ; but how 
 did he come to do so .'' The Mutiny Report mentions 
 that " this measure was determined on under the strenu- 
 ous opposition of the condemned' corps ; some had ' im- 
 plicit confidence ' in their regiments ; others advocated 
 ' conciliation.' " Of these infatuated old Indians, who have 
 their counterparts at the present day, one colonel shot 
 himself, when his regiment, the 99th, revolted, so much 
 did he feel the disgrace. 
 
 Peshawar is a very interesting place ; and though the 
 acting commissioner, Mr M'Nab, was absent on the bor- 
 der, I had met with him at Mardan, and received much 
 information and great kindness from him, as well as 
 from Major Ommaney, another civil officer, as also from 
 Mr Hughes, of the Church Mission. Mr Ward, the 
 superintendent of police, accompanied me up the Khyber 
 Pass, near to Ah Musjid, the first camping-ground on 
 the way to Kaubul. This is managed through the 
 Afridfs, or Afreedees, of the fort of Jumrood, which 
 stands on the sort of no man's land — the desolate strip 
 between our territory and that of Kaubul. The Khy- 
 beris are a rapacious and sanguinary lot, and it does not 
 do to enter their territory without protection of some 
 kind. They even annoyed Sher Ali, the ruler of Kau- 
 bul, on his return from visiting Lord Mayo in 1869; and 
 when I was at Peshawar the Khyber route into Afghan- 
 istan was entirely closed, owing to the exactions prac- 
 tised on travellers by the tribes who occupy it. More 
 recently some of these people came down to Peshawar 
 
THE AFGHAN BORDER. 
 
 379 
 
 one night by stealth, and carried off into their fastnesses 
 the bandmaster of an English, or perhaps a Scotch, regi- 
 ment, who had fallen asleep by the roadside on his way 
 from the sergeants' mess to his own quarters, and held 
 him to ransom for ^700, but were finally induced to 
 accept a smaller sum. 
 
 So thirty-five of the armed Afridfs and one piper 
 marched with me up the Khyber Pass, "to plunder and 
 to ravish," no doubt, if there had been anything to plun- 
 der. We saw some caves high above the place where 
 we stopped for breakfast, but none of the natives of the 
 pass appeared. We then had a shooting-match, in which 
 even little boys, who carried matchlock and dagger, 
 acquitted themselves very well, played our most insult- 
 ing tunes in the face, or rather against the back, of the 
 enemy, — and marched back again. The pass is so nar- 
 row, and the mountains on both sides of it are so high 
 and precipitous, that the Khyber must be a particularly 
 unpleasant place to be attacked in. The entire length 
 of this wonderful gorge is nearly fifty miles ; it runs 
 through slate, limestone, and sandstone ; and in wet 
 weather the path becomes the bed of a torrent. Near 
 Ali Musjid the precipices rise from this narrow path to 
 the height of 1200 feet, at an angle of about 80°. This 
 wild pass is said to be able to turn out 26,000 fighting 
 men, and during the Afghan war many of our troops 
 perished in it. 
 
 But I must now draw these observations to a close. 
 From Peshawar there was only the long drive across the 
 Panjab to Lahore, and from Lahore the railway to Bom- 
 bay. This was in the end of December ; and all across 
 the country of the five rivers, afar off, high above the 
 golden dust haze, there gleamed the snowy summits of 
 the giant mountains whose whole line I had traversed 
 in their central and loftiest valle^'s. The next snow I 
 
38o THE ABODE OF SNOW. 
 
 beheld was on the peak of Cretan Ida ; but I had seen 
 the great abode of the gods, where — 
 
 " Far in the east Himaltya, lifting high 
 His towery summits till they cleave the sky, 
 Spans the wide land from east to ■western sea, 
 Lord of the Hills, instinct with Deity." 
 
 THE END. 
 
>yH^ 
 
 'P 
 
 z 
 
 
 
 0^- 
 
 
 
 \° ° 
 
 
 
 
 
 A-^- 
 
 
 -■■- ■ -■ - • A » ^ ! Oo, 
 
 
 .^^ '' 
 
 v'^' 
 
 aX' 
 
 ,^^%, 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 ^^'^^;. 
 
 
 :V 
 
.0^ 
 
 \/, 
 
A MAP 
 
 I 
 
 TO ILLUSTRATE 
 
 THE ABODE OF SNOW 
 
 BY A.WILSON ESQ?' 
 1875. 
 
 E '^^ K