In the evening, the Thanadar’s Moonshee came to beg a “razee nama,” or “letter of satisfaction,” which we gave him, together with a “bukshish,” with which he seemed well pleased.
September 3.—Got up this morning with a peculiarly cold feel, and started with a fine piercing breeze in our teeth, blowing directly off the snows.
Our force was augmented to-day by three goats, as portable dairy, and a party of natives, with three days’ supplies, also a guide, for our path lay over ground neither much frequented nor well known. To-day’s has been the grandest scene of the panorama yet unfolded to us. From the last halt, no inconsiderable height in itself, we mounted continually towards the huge white masses of snow, which so lately towered above us in the distance. Passing the remains of mighty avalanches firmly fixed across the foaming torrent, we ascended the snow valley by the side of a perfect mountain of ice and snow, the accumulations of, possibly, as many years as the [[233]]world has existed, which had formed itself immoveably between the mighty mountain’s sides. The terrific force, with which the masses of snow had come down each season, to repair the ravages in the frozen monster’s constitution caused by the melting away of his lower extremities, could be seen by the enormous blocks of stone which rested on its surface in all directions. In some places fantastic arches of snow were thus formed, with blocks of rock resting on their summits, and such a distance were these central accumulations of rocks, and snow, and ice, from the cradles in which they were reared, that it was impossible to conceive, without the occurrence of an earthquake, how they could ever have reached their present positions.
One begins now faintly to understand how it is that the enormous number of torrents dashing about are kept supplied with icy life. The vast quantities of snow wedged into solid masses, which must have existed since all time among these mighty mountains, would serve to feed rivers innumerable, and the supply, as long as rivers and mountains exist, would appear to be inexhaustible.
Our path, if path it could be called, was very bad in parts, and so difficult for the coolies that we were fortunate in getting our breakfast at [[234]]two P.M., and, when we did get it, a snowstorm which came down upon us rather hurried our proceedings in discussing it.
The entire afternoon it continued snowing, and the mountain-tops soon hid themselves and sulked away among the leaden mists. Our tent was pitched among a low sort of scrub, the only apology for fire-wood procurable, and here we soon had a fine carpet of fresh snow, which put the unfortunate coolies, and the servants, and the three goats and the four ducks, and, in fact, everybody but F. and myself, who now begin to feel thoroughly at home, to considerable discomfort and inconvenience.
About a hundred yards from us rises the central mountain of consolidated old snow; while the monarchs of the place, whose hospitality we have been enjoying, overtopped our diminutive little worn canvas dwelling with proud and gloomy magnificence, or hid themselves from us in their ermine mantles, with aristocratic frigidity.[2] Before us, the path continues towards the clouds, hemmed in, to all appearance, by a mighty glacier, which it would seem impossible to avoid in our to-morrow’s route. To-day we again find the society [[235]]of the little shrieking marmots, who seemed more than over astonished at what could bring so strange and motley a group of creatures to disturb the universal quiet of their solitude. Of all our party the cook, perhaps, here fares the worst. The only things growing about us are a few plants of rhubarb and the miserable scrub, which he is obliged to use with all faith as firewood! this being thoroughly wet requires much coaxing to ignite, and what with the difficulties of his profession, the cold, the falling snow, and the increased appetites of the Sahibs, the unfortunate head of the cooking department becomes for the time the most intensely miserable being, black or white, upon the whole face of the globe.
September 4.—Awoke this morning to find the encampment, and its vicinity, covered with snow, and every prospect of a snow-stormy march before us. The coolies and servants were in a deplorable state of frozen discomfort, but all kept up their spirits by laughing at each other’s woes. Just as the sun appeared above the mountains for a few minutes only, we got under weigh; the tent, however, took some time to disencumber of its load of frozen snow, and to pack, and all the baggage required excavating previous to becoming capable of removal.
The path up to the great glacier above us was [[236]]wild and barren, it lay over a little plain watered by branching streams, and covered over with ice and newly fallen snow. Crossing one of these streams, I flushed a solitary woodcock, the only inhabitant of the wild, and shortly afterwards, our guide, an uncouth bundle of sheep-skins, slipped over a frozen stone, and came down in the freezing water with a splash, which, at that hour of the morning, made one shudder all over involuntarily. The snow-shoes which F. and myself had donned, alone saved us several times from a similar, uncomfortable fate. Our path, properly speaking, should have led over the very centre of the glacier; but, in consequence of the numerous crevasses and the early appearance of the new snow, our guide steadily refused to take us over the pass by that route. To have taken it without a guide would have been simply impossible; so we diverged to one side, and, after a sharp ascent of two hours over the snow, reached a sort of upper basin among the very mountain-tops. Here the scene which opened on us was wild beyond description. We were now about 18,000 feet above the sea, and in every direction around us snow hemmed in our view. Under our feet was a plain of pure white snow; the mountain-tops were snowy hillocks, standing white against the leaden sky; [[237]]and from above the fleecy snow-flakes fell around us thickly as we trudged along. The ground was most treacherous, and required great care in traversing, and in one place, being ahead of the guide, the snow and ice suddenly gave way beneath me, and with a most unpleasant sensation of uncertainty as to where I might be going, I found myself standing up to my waist in snow and to my knees in freezing water.
The guide, almost at the same moment, came to the same end, and it was not without much floundering and blundering that we both extricated ourselves from our difficulties. Shortly after this we crossed the highest point of the pass, and here the guide said his prayers to the presiding “peer,” or divinity of the place, previous to asking for bukshish; after which he and the sepoy proceeded to smoke a pipe of peace and tranquillity together. The most trying part of our day’s work we found to be waiting for breakfast, the coolies being much retarded both by the road and the state of the weather. We stopped at a sort of temporary abode, where some slight protection from rain and snow was obtained by the piling up of stones against an eligible rock, and here, after a long and dreary wait, we breakfasted in a little smoke-dried, draught-inviting den, the snow all the time [[238]]coming down in a way not altogether adapted for the enjoyment of such al fresco entertainments. Descending from this, we came to a grassy slope at last, and so by a most precipitous path to the valley on the southern side of the mountains, down which a formidable torrent rolled along, dividing itself into a number of channels not very promising as to our prospects of reaching the opposite side. Here we saw an enormous flock of sheep grazing on the mountain-side, seeming, as they moved to and fro in search of pasture, like a floating cloud against the hill. There must have been several thousands, though accurate computation was out of the question. They made, however, all the other mountain-flocks we had met, appear as nothing in point of numbers.