The natives even appeared to feel the cold, though in the winter months they are entirely snowed up, and ought to be pretty well inured to it by this time.
The entire valley is, in winter, totally submerged in snow, and a stranger might then pass over it without knowing there were villages beneath his feet. The bridges are annually swept away, and so suddenly does the hard weather make its appearance, that even now the inhabitants were in fear and trembling lest the snows should come down on them before their [[230]]crops of wheat and barley were carried for the winter’s use.
Numbers of fields of corn are still within a week or so of ripening, and, should they be lost, the chance of winter’s subsistence would be small indeed.
The appearance of a Thibetian settlement here, as one looks down upon it from a height, is very much that of an ant-hill. The huts are built on the top of each other, and generally on mounds, and the people, like ants, are busily and laboriously employed in laying up their winter store, not only of grain, but also of firewood, and anything capable of serving in its place, to enable them to struggle through their dreary mouths of captivity.
Huge loads of corn and stacks are to be seen moving about, apparently spontaneously, disappearing through queer holes and corners of the earth, and again appearing on the housetops, where they are stacked and stored. The bundles of fire-wood being placed with the branches outside, and neatly ranged, they give the peaceful settlement quite a bristling and warlike appearance, as if defended by chevaux de frise. The Zemindars here pay but two rupees a year to the Maharajah, but it seems a hard case that such hardly-subsisting people [[231]]should have to pay anything whatever in such a sterile dreary territory as they possess.
To-day we came across one solitary mound of the inscribed stones, probably the last, as we now cross the mountains into Cashmerian territory again.
To the south of our camp, the road from Ladak through Zanskar joins the valley, and we half regretted not having risked the chances of that road; however, it was uncertain whether it was passable, and, as time was valuable, we had but little option in the matter.
September 2.—Being Sunday, we had a regular rest, explored the country, and made the acquaintance of the few Thibetians who inhabited the villages.
Everywhere there were signs of the invasion of Gûlab Singh, some twenty years ago. Houses in ruins, and forts reduced to dust and rubbish. To replace these latter, a new fort had been constructed by Rumbeer Singh, in what appears about the worst possible position in the entire valley to render it of any use whatever.
The people were busily employed in their fields, pulling and carrying corn, and treading it out with oxen. A team of six I saw, most uncomfortably performing this work. They were tied together by the noses, and so small a piece of [[232]]ground had they to revolve upon, that the innermost animal had to go backward continually, while the centre ones were regularly jammed together by the outsiders. Two deformed natives were employed in driving this unhappy thrashing machine.