Among the Tibetans | Page 9

its fair, white, anemone- like blossom, and
the graceful Clematis orientalis, the only vegetation.
Crossing a raging affluent of the Dras by a bridge which swayed and
shivered, the top of a steep hill offered a view of a great valley with
branches sloping up into the ravines of a complexity of mountain
ranges, from 18,000 to 21,000 feet in altitude, with glaciers at times
descending as low as 11,000 feet in their hollows. In consequence of
such possibilities of irrigation, the valley is green with irrigated grass
and barley, and villages with flat roofs scattered among the crops, or
perched on the spurs of flame-coloured mountains, give it a wild
cheerfulness. These Dras villages are inhabited by hardy Dards and
Baltis, short, jolly-looking, darker, and far less handsome than the
Kashmiris; but, unlike them, they showed so much friendliness, as well
as interest and curiosity, that I remained with them for two days,
visiting their villages and seeing the 'sights' they had to show me,
chiefly a great Sikh fort, a yak bull, the zho, a hybrid, the interiors of
their houses, a magnificent view from a hilltop, and a Dard dance to the
music of Dard reed pipes. In return I sketched them individually and
collectively as far as time allowed, presenting them with the results,
truthful and ugly. I bought a sheep for 2s. 3d., and regaled the camp

upon it, the three which were brought for my inspection being ridden
by boys astride.
The evenings in the Dras valley were exquisite. As soon as the sun
went behind the higher mountains, peak above peak, red and snow-
slashed, flamed against a lemon sky, the strong wind moderated into a
pure stiff breeze, bringing up to camp the thunder of the Dras, and the
musical tinkle of streams sparkling in absolute purity. There was no
more need for boiling and filtering. Icy water could be drunk in safety
from every crystal torrent.
Leaving behind the Dras villages and their fertility, the narrow road
passes through a flaming valley above the Dras, walled in by bare,
riven, snow-patched peaks, with steep declivities of stones, huge
boulders, decaying avalanches, walls and spires of rock, some
vermilion, others pink, a few intense orange, some black, and many
plum-coloured, with a vitrified look, only to be represented by purple
madder. Huge red chasms with glacier-fed torrents, occasional
snowfields, intense solar heat radiating from dry and verdureless rock,
a ravine so steep .and narrow that for miles together there is not space
to pitch a five-foot tent, the deafening roar of a river gathering volume
and fury as it goes, rare openings, where willows are planted with
lucerne in their irrigated shade, among which the traveller camps at
night, and over all a sky of pure, intense blue purpling into starry night,
were the features of the next three marches, noteworthy chiefly for the
exchange of the thundering Dras for the thundering Suru, and for some
bad bridges and infamous bits of road before reaching Kargil, where
the mountains swing apart, giving space to several villages. Miles of
alluvium are under irrigation there, poplars, willows, and apricots
abound, and on some damp sward under their shade at a great height I
halted for two days to enjoy the magnificence of the scenery and the
refreshment of the greenery. These Kargil villages are the capital of the
small State of Purik, under the Governorship of Baltistan or Little Tibet,
and are chiefly inhabited by Ladakhis who have become converts to
Islam. Racial characteristics, dress, and manners are everywhere
effaced or toned down by Mohammedanism, and the chilling aloofness
and haughty bearing of Islam were very pronounced among these

converts.
The daily routine of the journey was as follows: By six a.m. I sent on a
coolie carrying the small tent and lunch basket to await me half-way.
Before seven I started myself, with Usman Shah in front of me, leaving
the servants to follow with the caravan. On reaching the shelter tent I
halted for two hours, or till the caravan had got a good start after
passing me. At the end of the march I usually found the tent pitched on
irrigated ground, near a hamlet, the headman of which provided milk,
fuel, fodder, and other necessaries at fixed prices. 'Afternoon tea' was
speedily prepared, and dinner, consisting of roast meat and boiled rice,
was ready two hours later. After dinner I usually conversed with the
headman on local interests, and was in bed soon after eight. The
servants and muleteers fed and talked till nine, when the sound of their
'hubble-bubbles' indicated that they were going to sleep, like most
Orientals, with their heads closely covered with their wadded quilts.
Before starting each morning the account was made out, and I paid the