Four miles from the Parang river we reached a flat grassy plain of considerable extent, with deep black soil, in which meandered a very slowly running stream, perhaps twelve feet wide, which seemed to have an outlet by an open valley on our right, and to join the Parang some miles to the east of where we left it. A great part of this plain was swampy, the turf rising in little knolls, but round the edges and in all the higher parts it was covered with a thick incrustation of white efflorescent salt. To the north and east, low gently-sloping hills as barren as ever rose from the edge of the green plain; and in the north-east corner, close to the foot of the hills, a large fountain, discharging copiously clear tasteless cold water, was evidently the source of the stream which flowed over the plain. The grassy turf produced a considerable number of plants, not a few of which were new to me. An Umbellifera, an Aster with large purple flowers, a Saussurea, and two species of Pedicularis, one with white, the other with yellow flowers, were very common, as were also a species of Triglochin, a white Juncus, several Carices, and three or four very beautiful grasses. In the shallow water of the pools scattered over the plain, a species of alga was common, floating without attachment. It was a broad foliaceous green plant, and has been determined by the Rev. M. J. Berkeley to be a species of Nostoc, closely allied to, if not identical with N. commune, a species which occurs in all parts of the globe.
After crossing this plain, and stopping to rest by the fountain, we began to ascend the long slopes of the hills, partly on a level ridge, partly along the wide sloping valleys by which the low hills were separated. Both hills and plain were frightfully arid, the aspect of the country being of an uniform grey colour; and coarse gravel, with scattered stones of larger size, everywhere covered the surface. The ascent was very inconsiderable till towards the end of the day's journey. The distance travelled was about ten miles, and we encamped at about 15,800 feet, on the left bank of a small stream which descended from the north, the borders of which were swampy and covered with green turf, in which the common plants of the country occurred, such as little gentians, Ranunculi, Parnassia, several Polygona and Potentillæ, Carices, and grasses. On the west bank of the stream was a low ridge of clay-slate rocks, while on the right and in the valley was a heap of granite boulders; no doubt an ancient moraine, for the fragments were piled on one another to a great height, and rose far above the stream as well as the ordinary level of the plain.
LANAK PASS.
September, 1847.
On the 13th of September we crossed the Lanak pass, which lay before us at a distance of about five miles. From our encampment the mountains appeared easy of access and rounded in outline, and we commenced the ascent by a nearly level walk across the gravelly plain. After a mile and a half we rejoined the stream, and kept along it for a little way. Its banks were green with a narrow belt of turf; and the bed was often rocky, the rock being still clay-slate, notwithstanding the granite boulders everywhere scattered about. The edges of the stream were frozen, spiculæ of thin ice adhering to the herbage. The vegetation was quite alpine, the elevation being certainly above 16,000 feet. A Delphinium, which seemed the same as the D. Brunonianum of the Hangarang pass, a little yellow saxifrage, and a white-flowered species of the same genus, which I believe to be the Scottish alpine S. cernua, an entire-leaved yellow Ranunculus, a Pedicularis with purple flowers, and some grasses, were the most remarkable plants observed.
After a mile, we left the ravine and ascended to the open gently-sloping ground on its left, still rising sensibly as we advanced. The surface was, as usual, dry and gravelly, and Oxytropis chiliophylla and a little Stipa were almost the only plants. We continued nearly parallel to the ravine, and crossed it again a little further on. It was now dry, and its steep stony banks were covered with bushes of Dama. Still gradually ascending, we crossed the same ravine a third time, where its bed was upwards of 17,000 feet. There was again no water visible, but the ground was still moist, the streamlet probably, as is very general in these arid regions, trickling under the surface among the loose gravel. The little alpine nettle, which I had first found on the northern spurs of Porgyul, near Changar, and again on the southern face of the Parang pass, was here common, as were two species of Alsine, which formed dense tufts. A little saxifrage and the Delphinium were also still observed, but all the other plants had disappeared.
Leaving the ravine for the last time, we continued the ascent, which became steeper as we advanced. A rounded ridge lay to our right hand, and we rose nearer and nearer to its crest. Fragments of granite, piled on one another in increasing numbers, covered the steep slopes. Rock in situ was only to be seen in one place; it was still clay-slate, containing a good deal of mica. The top of the pass was nearly level for several hundred yards, and covered with boulders, principally of granite, but a few of quartz and of a trappean rock, quite black and homogeneous. The outline of the mountains was generally rounded, and they rose gradually in both directions above the pass, which had an elevation of 18,100 feet. The view, both towards the direction in which we had come and that in which we were proceeding, was rather extensive, but from the prevailing uniformity of outline and colour it was more striking than beautiful. There were no trees or villages, no variation of surface greater than an occasional grey rock, but everywhere the same dreary sterile uniformity. Nothing could be seen of Lake Chumoreri, which lies at least fifteen miles westward, and is surrounded by mountains, everywhere (except in the direction of the former outlet) higher than that on which we stood.
The occurrence of great accumulations of boulders, of a rock different from that which occurs in situ on the very summit of the pass, was quite conformable to what I had observed on some of the passes between Kunawar and Hangarang. It was not, however, on this account the less puzzling, nor was it till I crossed the Sassar pass, in August, 1848, that I could at all conceive in what way it was to be explained. On this pass, as I shall afterwards relate in detail, a glacier occupies the crest of the pass, descending from higher mountains to the north, and presenting a bluff termination in two directions.
On the summit of the pass I collected specimens of three phenogamous plants, probably nourished by a recently melted patch of snow; for though there was none on the pass itself, nor on the descent on either side, a steep mountain, half a mile to the right, in a due northern exposure, was still covered with snow to at least five hundred feet below the level of the pass. The small quantity of snow seen in the distant view was very remarkable, and the more so as there was no indication of diminished elevation; ridge rising beyond ridge, and peak behind peak, to the utmost limits of view. The three plants which were observed were a little Arenaria or Stellaria, and two Cruciferous plants, one of which only was in fruit. A red lichen, the same as that seen on the Parang pass, covered the stones.
The descent from the Lanak pass was at first gentle, but very soon became steep, to the bottom of a valley in which a small stream of water was running, derived, I suppose, from some small snow-beds in a lateral ravine out of sight, for it almost immediately disappeared under the gravel. Soon after leaving the crest of the pass, we came upon clay-slate rock finely laminated, and dipping south-south-west at a high angle. The valley by which we descended gradually contracted into a rocky ravine, at last very narrow, with high precipitous walls, and full of large boulders. We encamped for the night at its junction with a large stream descending in a rocky dell from the west. Around our camp, on both sides of the stream, there was an outbreak of greenstone, which had upheaved the clay-slate rocks.
On the 14th of September we proceeded along the stream close to which we had encamped the day before. High mountains, whose summits could not be seen from the bottom of the narrow ravine, rose on both sides. The rock on both banks was clay-slate, much altered by heat, often very hard, and with numerous quartz veins; no more greenstone was observed. The stream, copious when we started, gradually disappeared as the ravine widened, and water soon lay only in pools along the gravelly bed. Boulders of granite were abundant all along. After three miles the ravine opened into a wide gravelly plain, skirted by rounded hills of considerable elevation, to which the alluvial platforms sloped very gently on both sides. Christolea, a little shrubby Artemisia, and a small Stipa, were the plants which grew among the gravel.