The descent to Nasmon, which is only 2700 feet above the level of the sea, was very steep. At first it led along the face of a bare hill, but soon entered a shady ravine, filled with alder, oak, walnut, and Celtis, but without any of the superb horse-chesnuts which had been so abundant in the humid valleys on the northern face of the range; nor was there any Rhododendron. Crossing a considerable stream, the road ascended through fine forest to the crest of a ridge, beyond which there was a long and steep descent of at least 1500 feet, to the village of Nasmon, on which tropical vegetation made its appearance very abruptly. Pinus longifolia grew scattered along the sides of this hill, and Daphne, pomegranate, the olive of the Sutlej valley, Vitex Negundo, Colebrookea, Rottlera, Sissoo, Adhatoda Vasica, a thorny Celastrus, Acacia modesta and Lebbek, and Bauhinia variegata, made their appearance in succession, in the order in which I have named them. Most of these are the same as the shrubby forms common in the Sutlej valley at Rampur; but the Celastrus and Acacia modesta are plants of the plains of the western Punjab, and do not extend so far west as that river. The range parallel to the Chenab on the north, which I had just crossed, has probably a granitic axis, for boulders of granite were common on the upper part of the ascent on both sides of the pass, though I did not anywhere see that rock in situ. On both sides the first rock exposed was a fine-grained gneiss, with large crystals of felspar. Lower down, on the north face, I observed mica-slate, with garnets; and in the bed of the Banahal river ordinary clay-slate occurred.
NASMON.
May, 1848.
Nasmon is a very large but scattered village, with much cultivation. It lies on a high platform of alluvium, considerably above the bed of the river. Plane, orange, apricot, and pear trees grew in the gardens, with Melia Azedarach, and a few trees of the European cypress (C. sempervirens), bearing apparently ripe fruit. The day was oppressively warm, the thermometer rising above 85° in the shade.
On the 13th of May, I crossed the Chenab by a bridge about a mile above Nasmon. The descent to the bank of the river was gradual, and very bare. Rocks of a black clay-slate and of conglomerate, in nearly vertical strata, formed the bed of the river, which was as large as the Sutlej at Rampur, and very much swollen and muddy. The bridge is the simplest form of jhula, a single set of ropes, from which a wooden seat is suspended, which is pulled from side to side by means of a rope, worked from the rocks on either side of the river. The banks of the river were adorned with a profusion of bushes of Nerium odorum, in full flower, and highly ornamental. The vegetation along the river exhibited the same curious contrast of tropical and temperate forms, which I have already described as characteristic of the dry valleys of the interior of the Himalaya, at elevations between two and four thousand feet; and the tropical plants were so similar to those which I observed on the Sutlej, that I need not particularize them. There was no forest in any part of the valley near the river, but a few trees of Pinus longifolia grew scattered on the bank; and on the stony ground which skirted the stream, there was a low jungle of the same tropical shrubs as had occurred on the lower part of the descent the day before. I saw also Zizyphus nummularia, a shrub which is eminently characteristic of a dry climate, being common in the most desert and rainless districts of the Punjab. The shrubby temperate forms were not numerous, being chiefly Rosa Brunonis, and the Himalayan pear, Lonicera diversifolia, Myrsine bifaria, and Jasminum revolutum, all plants which have a very wide range in the Himalaya.
WILD OLIVES AND POMEGRANATES.
May, 1848.
Passing through the bush jungle which skirted the river, I entered a large tract of almost level cultivated land, covered with fields of barley, ripe and partly cut. One or two plantain-trees, and some buffaloes, were signs that we were still in a very hot region. Crossing a considerable stream, the road began to ascend rapidly on a narrow ridge. Passing some farm-houses, surrounded by fields, I entered a scattered wood of wild olive-trees (Olea cuspidata), mixed with Zizyphus and wild pomegranate. The young shoots and panicles of the olive were abundantly covered with a white floccose glutinous matter, the source of which I could not exactly determine; but I could see no trace of any insects by which it could have been formed, so that it was perhaps a natural exudation from the tree. Small woods of Pinus longifolia occurred at intervals, almost alone, for few plants seem to thrive under its shade. At 4000 feet, while the olive and pomegranate were still abundant, Quercus lanata appeared. At 4500 feet, which was about the upper limit of the olive, I re-entered a cultivated district, disposed in terraces on the slopes of the hills. The barley was quite ripe, and being cut, but the wheat, though in full ear, was still green. There were also a few fields of the opium poppy in full flower, and of safflower (Carthamus tinctorius), which was not nearly so far advanced.
I encamped at the village of Balota, elevated 5000 feet. Round the village were some very fine table-topped deodars, perhaps the relics of a former forest, though more likely planted by the villagers. The hills on all sides were richly cultivated, as far up as 6000 feet, above which elevation fine forest commenced; and the snowy top of the mountain behind, which I had seen from the pass of the 12th, was visible rising behind the forest. During the whole of the ascent from the Chenab, the rock was a coarse-grained sandstone, in highly inclined strata, generally of a reddish-brown colour, the surface of which rapidly passes into a state of decay.
LADHE KE DHAR.
May, 1848.
The range of mountains to the south of the Chenab, by which that river is separated from the basin of the Tawi or river of Jamu, still lay between me and the plains of India. On the 14th of May, I crossed a spur from this range, descending into a valley watered by a tributary of the Chenab. This ridge, which is called Ladhe ke Dhar, rises a little above 9000 feet, that being the elevation at which the road crosses it. After leaving the cultivated lands of Balota, the ascent, which was steady, lay through fine brushwood and stunted oaks. On the banks of the stream, which occupied the centre of the valley by which I ascended, sycamore, horse-chesnut, and cherry, were abundant. On the slopes there were a few trees of Pinus excelsa and Picea, but the forest was not dense. About 7000 feet, on the north-western face of a spur, there was much cultivation of wheat and barley, hardly yet in ear. Here there was a fine view in the direction of the upper valley of the Chenab, of rugged mountains, scarcely wooded on the slope exposed to view, rising behind one another, the more distant still heavily snowed. Higher up, the forest was chiefly formed of the holly-leaved oak, but the latter part of the ascent was through a dark forest of silver fir, intermixed with a few fine yews. The underwood here was chiefly Viburnum nervosum, still in flower, though its leaves were almost fully developed. On emerging from this gloomy forest, in the upper part of which there was a thin sprinkling of snow, I found myself on the crest of the range, which was bare and rounded. Snow lay in large patches, and had evidently been till very recently continuous over the whole top, as vegetation was just commencing, and few plants were in flower. Primula denticulata was common, as well as a little gentian, which extended on both sides at least 2000 feet lower; the only alpine plant was the little Callianthemum which I had found some days before on the summit of Wasterwan in Kashmir. The distant view was unfortunately quite obscured by haze, so that I could not see, as I had expected, the plains of India.
KATTI.
May, 1848.