I turned in, excited by the visions of the mighty yâks I should encounter in this field unexplored by European hunter.
18th July. A long, tedious ascent of some six or seven miles, and then a moderate descent brought us to Hemschi, a straggling village in a wilderness of stones covering a valley through which a stream wanders to the Indus. The fields have been cleared with immense labour, and are fenced in by the rounded stones simply placed one on the other to the height of three feet. Just as we arrive at the cultivation, are found surrounding a small rocky eminence a number of strange looking trees of the fir species, which at first I conceived to be cedars, but on a close examination in the evening believe them to be junipers of unusual proportions and of an antiquity dating centuries back. These are the first trees of the sort I have seen in the country, and there are none others to be heard of. This would induce the belief that they are not indigenous.
I fixed the site of my bivouac on a barren rocky hill, the best the place afforded, and breakfasted beneath the shade of a spreading rose bush, bearing an abundance of fine blossoms of a large, full, double kind, but wanting in fragrance—still a most agreeable canopy.
My effects to day, as yesterday, were in part borne on the shoulders, not delicate, of women, they always bearing their share of like burdens, their share by far the largest. They appeared quite at home at the labour, and seemed rather to like it, laughing and chatting cheerfully—the hideous, good-humoured wretches. They, one and all, here wear a remarkable coiffure:—a black leather or cloth flap or lappet being worn under the hair so as to protect the ears, to this a fringe is appended, and the frowzy locks in plaits are brought over it in loops, and are tucked up behind, having much the appearance our own dames might have, if after adjusting their chevelure they rubbed their heads for a considerable time in the coal skuttle, and then were dragged through a furze bush. Still there was a sort of resemblance to the style. In every individual the hair is parted in the centre, and over this central division is placed an ornament, a black band on which are fastened pieces of turquoise, some very large—the biggest often as large as a walnut—in front over the forehead, from which they are continued in regular order to the nape of the neck, where further observation is cut short by the goat skin cloak from beneath which a tuft appears, which is to all appearance the tail appendage of the hair and said band which, I fancy, are in some measure connected and twisted together, hanging down the back, like that of the Cashmiries.
No prospect of sport here, the saheb we had heard of having, as we were informed, unsuccessfully hunted the neighbourhood.
19th July. The early part of to-day's march was very trying and fatiguing. The road, crossing two or three minor ranges of the system of mountains, was nothing but climbing steep hills—again, after descending, to repeat the same monotonous toil; all around barren and desolate as usual. We passed two small cultivated patches, and reached Leiker, a good-sized village with one or two quite imposing looking houses, well-built of sun-dried brick, with rows of small windows. Subhan reported this to be Bazgoo, the place we designed to halt at. But after breakfast it was discovered to be Leiker, and Bazgoo some distance on.
About half-past ten we again set out, and endured a dreadful scorching over some arid sandy plains. A village, seen far in the distance, seemed to fly from us. I supposed it to be Bazgoo, and was surprised to find on reaching the top of a gentle rise a sudden deep declivity descending into an extensive valley, and immediately below us a large thriving village. This was Bazgoo. But we had to proceed, passing along by houses and many Buddhist structures of more than ordinary size and dignity, until gaining the end of the village we halted under a fine large apple tree, offering the only shade in an uncultivated spot. We were huddled up close together, which was not satisfactory, and led to my having to enforce silence after enduring the annoyance of much jabber passively, long after I had retired to bed.
20th July. We got away this morning at half-past four, having a long and difficult march to accomplish. About four miles of level sandy plain, passing some Buddhist monuments of very great length, some three or four hundred yards long, the extremities finished by large urnlike masses of masonry on step-formed pedestals, the sides of the latter ornamented with figures in plaister—many of these structures were met with during the day, all being covered with the sculptured stones already described—to a large and flourishing village, that seen from the distance yesterday, Mimah. We then ascended through a ravine twisting and winding, ploughing our way through heavy sand and grit—three-quarters of an hour's most tiresome labour—when, reaching the top, a more open, level country presented itself; which gradually widening opened out into extensive plains of barren sand gradually dipping the Indus, and what looked like a swampy country in the distance, with many snow-capped mountains filling in the background.
We passed a lama fort-like building perched on a hill in the middle of cultivation, on the left, and a small village, on the right (Piang); then descended to the very brink of the Indus which here, instead of rushing violently between high precipitous banks, meanders in divided waters through an expanse of flat meadows covered with grassy turf, a small village dotting the surface here and there. An enormous bank, of miles in length apparently, and one or two in breadth, slopes down in one unbroken line from the mountains to the river's brink on the other (the southern) side; producing a singular effect, looking like an enormous mud bank solidified—brown, barren, and stony. Turning the spur of a range coming right down to the river, an expanse of green turf opens before one, a fort-like building on a high rock in front, and an enclosed garden near it. For this I made, now rather knocked up, my right foot being sore from chafing, causing me to limp heavily. I forced open the door of the garden which only contained willows and poplars, and, finding a tolerable house in the middle empty, took possession of the same, well satisfied with such good shelter, and anxious for refreshment after five hours' most fatiguing tramp.
I sent out to find some messenger to send in to Leh with orders to the thanadar, Basti Ram, to send me a tattoo on which to complete my journey in the afternoon. Coolies under the sepoy made their appearance, and were ordered on, but exchanged at a village close by—this was the third change to day—and, soon after, Subhan trotted up with four tattoos which he had engaged for our party.