1st July. Sunday. Much rain fell during the night. Subhan went off to try and discover the wounded ibex.
Heavy rain set in, in the afternoon, and continued without intermission until dark. It was very cold.
Subhan returned quite unsuccessful, the rain having obliterated the tracks. I regret this loss much. It was such a splendid animal, the pick of the herd.
2nd July. On turning out of my tent, dressed and ready to march, I found that a hard frost had come on in the night, and much snow had fallen on the mountains; in consequence of which the glacier was declared to be too dangerous to attempt to cross, as the numerous rents and fissures would be thinly coated over with frozen snow, rendering it impossible to detect and avoid them. I submitted the more patiently to this delay, as the swelling behind my knee was considerably enlarged by my struggles over the slippery ground on Saturday; and I, somehow or other, clung to the forlorn hope of there being a chance of retrieving the lost ibex, if we remained here; that a flight of vultures, buzzards, or crows might point out the carcase.
But no such good fortune appears to await me, as I have been scanning the mountain side till almost blind, but no favourable augury in the skies. The ibex must now be given up as irretrievable.
3rd July. Although rain had fallen, and at early dawn the weather was very unsettled, the shikarries roused me up. I had made up my mind that they would not think it advisable to move, so had composed myself to another allowance of sleep; but was soon dressed, and on the march.
The glacier, which we now had to cross, has all the disagreeables of that peculiarity without its redeeming features, its varied and brilliant tints, such as are renowned in Alpine scenery. This was an ugly, dull, dirty, stony mass of ice and snow filling up the gorge in the chain of mountains, forming the pass through its ridge from the Wurdwan to Sooroo. The ascent was not difficult, except from the cumbering rocks and stones which, brought down from the heights, the accumulation of centuries, lie in heaps and masses, huge and unsightly, nothing picturesque about them. Even their colours are dull and repulsive. And here and there is a yawning chasm, descending into depths unknown, very hideous when looked into.
We had barely reached the general level, when a violent snow-storm burst upon us. The heavens were black, the wind howled in furious gusts, the weather and accompaniments enabling one to realise one's fancies and ideas of a mountain pass in a storm. We battled manfully against it, diverging here and there to avoid danger; and so toiling on reached the most elevated part, the ascent gradual. Here we were free from the rocks and stones, there being only the ice and snow, a layer of fresh-fallen snow having re-carpeted the surface. We crossed many a gaping fissure, and proved that the precaution of the shikarries in not starting the other day was reasonable; for our guide, a Wurdwan peasant, suddenly plunged down, but recovered himself. He had fallen through a crust of drifted snow concealing one of those ugly rents which stretch across from side to side of the gorge.
Our path led to the left. The snow-storm had subsided, and the sun was now shining. The direct course of the pass, hitherto followed, appeared to be obstructed by insurmountable obstacles in the shape of ice and snow, ranged in tiers and ridges to a great height. The mountains, on either side, had been throughout precipitous and extremely rugged—huge crags without a vestige of vegetation. We had now to ascend, and laborious work it was, the snow being soft, and the sun now hot; in addition to which, one's power of breathing was much affected by the extremely rarefied air at this great elevation. The summit gained, the descent was tolerably easy to us more practised mountaineers; but the glare of the snow was terrible. Mooktoo was attacked by severe pains in the head, and lagged behind. I, after stopping to rest a few minutes, and watching four ibex which shewed on the left, when I got up, was almost blind. Luckily we had nearly passed over the snow, and I recovered immediately on quitting it; and about two miles on we reached our destined bivouac, when I was glad to breakfast.
We were now in a narrow valley with the usual mountain torrent, fed by tributaries joining from other like valleys. The mountains were rugged and almost bare, yielding only patches of brushwood here and there, and some scanty herbage, but looked likely for ibex, were it not that a number of tattoos had been brought here to pick up a hard-earned subsistence. The sun now poured down its vertical rays upon us with tremendous effect, and I took up a position alongside a piece of rock to screen myself as well as I could. Of my party the three servants first appeared. Long afterwards the coolies came straggling in; they had a hard day's work.