WILD HORSE.
September, 1847.
In the plain which sloped gently upwards from the Parang river towards the Chumoreri lake, we saw for the first time a Kiang, or wild horse, but at too great a distance to enable his shape and appearance to be distinctly made out; and the river, which was interposed between us, prevented our approaching nearer. We afterwards frequently saw these animals, but from their extreme wariness, and the open nature of the country, we were never fortunate enough, notwithstanding repeated trials, to get within gunshot distance of them. They appear to abound at elevations between 14,000 and 16,000 feet, on the open undulating tracts on the summits of the mountain ranges, and to avoid valleys and rocky districts, where they would be liable to surprise.
THE PARANG VALLEY.
September, 1847.
To the eastward of the former outlet of the lake, the valley of the Parang river was more contracted than it had been in any previous part of its course. Rocky hills, projecting from the southern mountains, advanced so close to the river, that no passage was practicable along their base, and the road several times ascended several hundred feet to cross these ridges. This obstruction was, however, but temporary, lasting only for a few miles, beyond which the valley expanded into a very wide plain, extending for five or six miles in an easterly direction, by about half that distance from north to south. The borders of this wide expanse were very low platforms, almost horizontal, and not more than from six to ten feet above the river. The middle portion was a plain of gravel, scarcely higher than the level of the stream, and evidently occasionally submerged. Here the river bends rapidly round towards the south-east. The district at which we had now arrived is called Chumurti, and about eight or ten miles to the east of our encampment on the 11th of September, is a village or assemblage of tents called Chumur, from which we obtained a supply of porters, to relieve the party who had accompanied us from Piti. Here also, in accordance with the instructions we had received on leaving Simla, Captain Strachey left us, with the intention of following the course of the Parang river, as far as he conveniently could, and then turning to the left across one of the passes of the great trans-Sutlej chain to the Indus. Major Cunningham and myself, on the other hand, proposed to proceed by the direct, and equally unknown, route to Hanle, and thence to visit the Indus, and proceed to Le.
THE PARANG RIVER.
September, 1847.
The Parang river, whose source is in the mountains immediately north of the Parang pass, has, as we have seen, at first a northerly direction, but gradually bends more and more to the eastward and southward, and finally has a nearly south-west course, where it joins the Piti river, nearly opposite Shialkar. Its source, as well as its confluence with the Piti river, are within the British territory; but the most important, because the most populous, part of its course lies within the Chinese border. The boundary of the Chinese district runs nearly from north-east to south-west, passing a little to the west of Rodok, and crossing the Indus at the village of Chibra, where Mr. Trebeck was stopped in his attempt to penetrate up the Indus; thence a little south of Haule, and across the course of the Parang river. It then bends more towards the south, and again crosses the Parang at the point where we were stopped in the end of August, whence its direction is nearly due south as far as Nilang, on the Jahnavi branch of the Ganges.
The Parang river being a tributary of the Sutlej, by crossing the great chain at the Parang pass we had not reached the Indus valley, but had descended into a lateral valley still connected with the drainage of the Sutlej. The great line of watershed between the Indus and Sutlej lay still before us. This chain, which is the prolongation of Kailas, must be called the trans-Sutlej Himalaya, unless the name Himalaya be restricted to the chain south of the Sutlej, in which case the mountains of Lahul, Kishtawar, and Kashmir, would lose their claim to that appellation.
ASCENT TOWARDS LANAK PASS.
September, 1847.
Towards this chain, which we were to cross by the Lanak pass, we commenced our journey on the morning of the 12th of September. Our road lay across the Parang river, which flowed in several channels among the wide expanse of gravel which here formed its bed. The morning was bitterly cold, and the water almost icy, to the great discomfort of our porters. The largest stream was perhaps twenty-five feet wide and two and a half deep, with a moderately rapid current. After crossing the river we took a northerly direction, leaving the valley or plain of the Parang river, and ascending an open, almost level valley, bounded by low hills. The mountains on the left, which were interposed between our route and the Chumoreri lake, were the most rugged in sight. In the centre of the plain was the channel of a stream, very shingly, but without water, along which, or on alluvial banks only a few feet higher, we gradually advanced. The level of our camp on the Parang river had been 14,800 feet; and from this we were now gradually but imperceptibly rising. The hills on either hand were rounded and low, but increased in height as we receded from the Parang river. The soil was very barren, and showed many indications of salt. Scattered plants of Salsola were common, with Christolea, a pretty Cruciferous plant, with purple flowers and fleshy wedge-shaped leaves, tasting strongly of horse-radish, which has been described by Decaisne from specimens collected by Jacquemont in Piti. A little white Alyssum, which I had not previously met with, was also very common.