At our breakfast-halt we saw the most primitive specimen of a smoking apparatus probably ever invented. It consisted of a dab of mud stuck in a hole of a tree, about five feet from the ground. Two small sticks, inserted in this from above and below and then withdrawn, had evidently served to form the smoke passage; while the bowl as evidently had been fashioned by the simple impression of a Thibetian thumb, the whole forming, for the use of needy travellers, as permanent and satisfactory a public pipe as could well have been devised. It had just been in requisition before we passed, for a small quantity of newly-burned tobacco lay in the bowl; and a fresh patch of clay on the mouthpiece had probably been added, either in the way of general repairs or by some extra-fastidious traveller, who preferred having a private mouthpiece of his own. After rather a severe march through rocky mountain gorges, we reached Chungun, a little oasis of about five acres of standing barley, with three or four flat-roofed houses dotted about it in the usual Tartar style of architecture. It also boasted four poplar-trees, standing in a stiff and reserved little row, evidently [[147]]in proud consciousness of their family importance among such rugged, treeless, iron mountains.
It was altogether a refreshing little spot for a halt, after the savage scenery we had marched through; and pitching our camp in it, we were not long in introducing ourselves to the little brawling stream of clear cold water to which it owed its existence.
August 4.—Started this morning in a mountain mist. Just outside the village we passed the scene of the fall of an avalanche, which gave one some faint idea of the enormous forces occasionally at work among these mountains. It had taken a small village in its path, and over the place where it had stood we now took our way, among a perfect chaos of masses of rock, and uptorn earth, trees, &c. The whole ground was torn and rent, as by the eruption of volcanoes or the explosion of enormous magazines of powder. Passing this, our path continued to descend the gorge until about two kos from Chungun, when another torrent came down to join its forces to the one we were accompanying; and leaving our old companion to roar its way down to join the Indus, we proceeded up the valley in the society of our new friend. Passing a series of little villages nestled among the [[148]]rugged rocks, we crossed the stream by a tree bridge and causeway, to the Fort of Kurgil, where, after a long consultation, we breakfasted. The differences of opinion between the guide and the rest of the natives as to the distance of a village ahead, where milk and supplies were forthcoming, were so wide, some saying three kos, others six, &c., that we finally determined upon getting some breakfast before deciding the true distance for ourselves. The village Hundas was another most perfect little oasis. It was only about five or six acres in extent, under the frowning mountain, and was terraced and planted in the neatest and most economical way imaginable. The fields were beautifully clean, and were quaintly adorned in many instances by huge blocks of rock from the mountain above, bigger considerably than the whole of the houses of the village put together. Leaving Kurgil, we made a sharp ascent, and crossed a plateau bounded by some extremely curious formations of rock and sandstone.
The mountains appeared to have been reared on end and cut with a knife, as if for the especial benefit of geologists in general, although the hues of their many-coloured strata were calculated to attract even the most ungeological mind by their brightness. Descending from this plateau, [[149]]we came to a pass dotted with three or four little villages, wooded with poplars, and adorned with a few shrubs of different kinds. Here every available inch of ground which the grudging rocks bestowed was cultivated, although all around, the mud-built native huts were broken down and deserted, in such numbers as to give the idea of an Irish settlement whose inhabitants had transplanted themselves to America. At the last of these little villages, called Pushkoom, we pitched our camp, the retainers taking a fancy to the place from the promise it gave of abundant supplies.
August 5.—Made our first day’s halt, and enjoyed it considerably—not the least of its advantages being the immunity it gave us from being torn out of bed at grey hours in the morning. The rest of the force also appreciated the day of rest, and made themselves comfortable after their fashion under our grove of trees.
In the afternoon I ascended the mountain opposite to reconnoitre and inspect the curious formation of strata, which formed the principal feature of the place.
The ascent I found at first to be over a soft crumbling small stone, resembling ashes, but of various colours, and in distinctly-marked strata. These were generally of pinkish red and grey, [[150]]and from them in large masses, rose enormous blocks of concrete, in all manner of forms and shapes, some like towers and fortifications, and others standing out boldly by themselves, worn by the weather into holes and ridges. After a considerably difficult ascent, from the crumbling nature of the stones, I reached the summit of the mountain, and climbing a concrete monster which capped it, had a magnificent survey of the mountain ranges and country around. In every direction the eye rested on snowy summits, and the wind from them fell coolly and refreshingly after the toil of ascent under a hot sun.
Returning through the village, I found the natives hard at work collecting their crops of wheat and barley, and stowing them away, generally upon the flat tops of their houses. They seemed altogether a peaceful, primitive race; but, although their ground appears in first-rate order, they themselves are uncultivated and dirty in the extreme. The ladies, I am sorry to say, are even rather worse in this matter than the gentlemen. The female costume consists generally of robes of sheep and goat skins thrown across the shoulders; while a long tail of twisted worsted plaits, looking like a collection of old-fashioned bell-ropes, forms the chief decoration. This is attached to the back hair, and [[151]]hangs down quite to the heels, where it terminates in a large tuft, with tassels and divers balls of worsted attached to it. On a hill overhanging the village were the remains of a mud fort, which had been pulled down by Gûlab Singh in one of his excursions to Thibet, with a view to bringing the inhabitants to a proper sense of their position, and enforcing the payment of his tribute.
The number of battered and deserted huts about the village is accounted for by the erratic habits of the people, which induce them never to stay long in one set of houses, but to flit from one side of the valley and from one settlement to another as the fancy strikes them. That the large increase of the flea population among such a race, however, may have something to do with their restlessness, seems more than probable.
Except when impressed for government employ, they seldom leave the vicinity of their villages, and one old gentleman told me he had never been even as far as a place called Lotzûm, which is only two kos off! The religion seems to be a mixture of Buddhism and Mahomedanism—the latter on the decrease as we get farther into the country.