Through deserts and oases of central Asia

by Ella Sykes; Sir Percy Sykes

But I was now to learn that there are yaks and yaks. The animals assigned to my brother and me strongly objected to the job, and, looking at the path ahead, I did not wonder. They jibbed constantly, refused to proceed, and, what was most unpleasant, took to backing off the path and sliding in perilous fashion on to the long slopes of shifting rubble. They seemed quite callous to the pulling of their nose-ropes, and, though I clung to the peak of my saddle and vigorously belaboured the shaggy sides of my mount, it returned to the track only when it pleased. I became nervous on my brother’s account, because the fastenings of his saddle broke twice, and if he had not realized in time that he was sitting on the yak’s tail instead of in the middle of its back, he would have fallen right over the precipice. He had fastened the thong of his hunting-crop round the branching horns of his kutass, thereby saving himself from disaster. To help matters both of us imitated the cry with which the Kirghiz encouraged their animals: “Halbin! Halbin! Halbin! Ha!” These men felt the height considerably and rested at intervals, holding their heads in their hands as they were suffering from mountain-sickness—the pass was over 16,000 feet—and one poor boy lay down early in the ascent, weeping loudly and entirely refusing to proceed. At intervals they halted and ate yellow squares of tough bread and dried plums, the yaks throughout panting and gnashing their teeth instead of emitting their usual single grunt of content. Near the crest of the pass the track lay among rocks and crags, and I took my feet out of the stirrups and pressed them into my mount’s neck; for yaks have an unpleasant habit of brushing close to any obstacle on the path, and, owing to this, our baggage always suffered considerably. I was riding behind a Kirghiz pony that had been led in front of our party all the way, when suddenly this animal lost its footing and tumbled back right on to my mount, dragging its master along with it. If I had been on horseback we could not have avoided an accident, but luckily yaks appear to have no nerves, and mine stood firm and bore the shock right nobly.

Certainly it was a relief to reach the level ground at the top of the pass, and to dismount while the Kirghiz knelt in prayer before a big cairn of stones crowned with rag-laden sticks. I looked back to enjoy the view of the immense glacier that filled the valley and the peaks towering far above us; but suddenly I had a splitting headache combined with nausea and faintness, which made me realize that I must be experiencing a touch of the mountain-sickness of which I had often read. I felt that I should soon recover if I could only leave the height on which we were standing, and a sturdy native assisted me down the steep track of shifting shale until my brother called to him to halt, thinking I might faint outright. Hot tea was produced from our thermos bottles, and after lying flat for a short time I revived, and enquired of Iftikhar Ahmad, who was also supported by a servant down the mountain-side, whether he, too, were suffering from mal de montagne? He explained that he was merely recovering from the effects of an opiate that he had taken to avoid the malady; but it seemed to me that the remedy was almost worse than the illness.

Although we were over the pass proper, our troubles were not yet at an end, for we had now to ride for a couple of hours along very steep and narrow tracks, where a false step of our ponies on the shifting shingle would have hurled us into the yellow water of the river roaring below, and so into the next world. At last a breakneck descent brought us to the bank of this river. We forded it and reached a group of akhois, where we halted for the night and enquired into casualties. Daoud and one of our grooms were quite lame; the chestnut had fallen and strained itself, and all the animals were badly in need of a rest after their exhausting experiences.

Consequently, next day’s march was a short one, but disagreeable; for the track lay along the stony bed of one of the dried-up watercourses that are so common throughout Chinese Turkestan. The valley widened out and the air became milder and milder as we descended, until we reached the first trees that we had seen for weeks. Willows, firs and poplars clung to the hillsides, rising from patches of abundant scrub, tamarisk with pink flower spikes, berberis with scarlet and orange berries and aromatic juniper; wild roses were in bloom, and the swallow and a brown bird with crimson under-wings flew and twittered.

Our baggage yaks were now discarded for camels, and when our caravan reached camp I was distressed by the lugubrious cries of a she-camel that resounded through the night. I found that her young one had been unable to keep up on the march and had accordingly been left on the road in the care of some Kirghiz, but would be rejoined by its disconsolate mother on her return. Female camels are greatly attached to their young, and I was told that, if deprived of them, they mourn and lament for at least three months, so that the general idea of the camel as an impassive and callous animal is quite wrong.

At the end of July we finally left the hills and rode some thirty miles into the plain to Opal, our last halt before we reached Kashgar. The march began down stony river-beds, valleys that widened out, and hills that became lower and lower until on our left they vanished altogether, while to our right they terminated in a bold cliff that rose sheer from a great plain shimmering with light. Silver streaks meandering across this plain indicated rivers, and beyond it we saw again the snowy crests of the Celestial mountains, and the picturesquely serrated peaks behind Miniol, while low hills, beautiful in pink and amber, ochre and mauve, made a fairy vision in the early morning light.

Luckily for us, the weather was cloudy and inclined to rain, as otherwise our sudden descent into the summer heat would have been somewhat trying. At Opal we were in the midst of trees and irrigation, and it was delightful to see golden wheat and barley ripe for the sickle, waving crops of maize and millet, fields of linseed in bloom, cotton in flower, and one of the six annual crops of lucerne in sheets of vivid green.

KASHGAR MUSICIANS.

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