The Diary of a Hunter from the Punjab to the Karakorum Mountains

by Augustus Henry Irby

I strolled just outside the enclosure in the afternoon, and find Leh to be situated within an arc, almost a complete circle, formed by rugged, naked hills, spurs of a lofty range of mountains—running to all appearance north and south, or thereabouts, in the rear of Leh—from which these spurs stretch down to the Indus, embracing the plain of Leh, leaving open the space debouching on the Indus, up which I came. Leh itself is built upon a ridge which projects from the centre of this arc some short distance into the plain, occupying its extremity—that is, the large building before-mentioned does; but the town is placed on the southern face of the ridge. With the exception of the comparatively small extent of irrigated fields, all around is bare and desolate. Looking from Leh across the Indus, is seen a tract of cultivation of considerable extent, running up into a valley, clusters of houses here and there giving it a cheerful, prosperous aspect. This, I am told, is the village of the rightful owner of Ladâk, where he resides in humble obscurity.

22nd July. Sunday. I find no place to walk to out of this enclosure, all outside being either fields or rough barren ground with difficult paths. The town looks uninviting, so I remained in my tent.

The jemadar, a civil, obliging, intelligent man, in the afternoon informed me that Basti Ram, the thanadar, was waiting in his house, prepared to pay me a visit, if I could receive him. I, of course, assented; and ere long, preceded by a dirty band of soldiery, he made his appearance, seated in a janpan, which being halted at the requisite respectful distance, the old gentleman was assisted forward, and I requested him to be seated on a 'rizai' which had been spread for him. He is a pleasing-looking old man, of mild aspect, bodily infirm, but with a voice still strong. We chatted a long time; and I hinted at the Karakorum with regard to shikar, but he evidently disapproves of my going in that direction, saying, that the road was bad, the country barren, and no shikar, but that in the Chan-than and Roopschoo country game abounded. He politely assured me of his desire to furnish me with all I required, to any extent, in money, horses, or men.

I questioned him about the sad fate of the poor Schlagentweit brother; and he gave me a long narrative, from which I gather that the unfortunate traveller was plundered on the way to Yarkand; that he reached that place, and thence proceeded on to the Kokand country, where he rode into the presence of a chief, Walli Khan, who, feeling or pretending to feel insulted, ordered his attendants to cut him down, which was instantly done; and thus the unfortunate M. Schlagentweit was murdered, and all his effects plundered. But these had been previously seized, and probably he was then in search of justice, and the restoration of his property. Walli Khan has since denied all share in the death of the saheb; and as he is a powerful chief, with a strong fortress on a steep hill, the thanadar said, "What can be done?" Several men have been sent to try and recover the effects, and procure unmistakable testimony to the circumstances of the murder; but they state all the property to have been scattered here and there in remote parts of Turkistan, and have discovered nothing further as to the foul deed. I am in hopes of yet ascertaining more, when the Yarkand merchants arrive, but it must be acquired through tact and judgment, all enquiries being regarded suspiciously, as perhaps connected with ulterior designs. After a satisfactory interview Basti Ram took leave, the jemadar remaining behind, and giving some interesting particulars of the country north of Leh, through part of which the road to Yarkand runs. The district is called the Lobrah pergunnah; and the jemadar, who once travelled there with a saheb, Dr. Thomson, declares it to abound with game. It is a fertile country, he says, highly cultivated, with abundance of everything. It is reached in three days; in three more a place, called Gopoor, where are upland plains abounding with wild animals; but the yâk is not there met with. Four or five days further travelling in an uninhabited tract will bring one to grassy plains, called Moorgaby: there are yâk, and kyang, and other animals. I requested the jemadar to try and find a resident of Lobrah, who could give me precise information as to the best shooting grounds. This he promised to do.

23rd July. I sent the shikarries and Abdoolah into the town to try and get good reliable information about the Lobrah country, roads, &c. They still bring only vague reports; but all unite in describing the country as possessing much game. There is an evident disinclination to supply information of this part of the country; but through Ahmet Shah's relative, and the jemadar, his friend and subordinate, I believe that I shall succeed in extracting it.

A cloudy day, and a heavy thunderstorm across the Indus, which in time found its way here, describing a semicircular sweep, and coming down upon us with violent gusts of wind, making the poplars and willows bend double. After a time there were heavy drops; then an undecided rain keeping on and off, ever threatening to come down in torrents.

After dinner the jemadar came to report progress; but, further than that the thanadar was willing to further my views in that direction, he merely repeated what he had said before as to game in the Lobrah country. But the bridge over a large river on the way having been broken down, the thanadar had sent his son to have it repaired, and to give orders for my reception, as also to get ready some men acquainted with the haunts of game. So all goes well—if my things would but arrive, of which as yet no tidings. A rainy evening keeping me in till bed-time, I took refuge early in my blankets.

24th July. There was much rain during the night, and a cloudy morning of which I took advantage to visit the town, with a view to select a site for a sketch. The air was cool and fresh, and the roads cleansed by the rain. There are some curious buildings in the town which is very small—a mere village: but there is a good wide street in which is the bazaar,—the shops, small dens in an uniform row on either side. This street is about three hundred yards long, and opens into the serai, a yard surrounded by other dens in which were some dirty travellers. Through this we went, and, passing by the burial ground, ascended a small isolated hill on the top of which is a nondescript building. From the side of this hill is a good view of the town, with the Rajah's residence towering over it; and higher again than that, some way removed up the same ridge, is a lama monastery. Others are on the side of the hill. The whole scene is extremely curious and picturesque. I peeped into some of the little shops, and saw there, of course, Manchester cottons of the most brilliant hues. But nearly every shop was empty, this place being really but an 'entrepôt' affording accommodation to the traffic between Yarkand, Cashmere, and the plains. By all accounts Yarkand is a place of much importance, and a great mart, merchants from all the surrounding regions meeting there for trade and exchange of commodities.

I visited Bella Shah, the principal merchant, who has a comfortable house in the Eastern style—an intelligent-looking man. I had an interesting conversation with him. By the way, had I not applied myself to the study of Hindostani, how much I should have lost. He had been to Yarkand, and described the country as most fertile, the town as a grand place, rich and populous. He further told me that, eight days' journey from Yarkand, on this side, large herds of yâk are met with, and that the country generally abounds with game; that the road is not so very difficult; wood scarce certainly in places, but always something, sticks, weeds, or horsedung to be got for a fire large enough to cook with. This is the information I was wanting; and my mind is now settled to cross the Karakorum range, the pass over which, he assures me, is a very easy one.