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SAND-BURIED RUINS
OF
KHOTAN
FOUR IMPORTANT BOOKS OF TRAVEL
THROUGH UNKNOWN TIBET. By the late Captain M.S. Werrzy, 18th Hussars. With a Photogravure Frontispiece and many other Illustrations, also Maps and Appendices of Flora, etc. Medium $8vo, cloth gilt, 21s.
IN TIBET AND CHINESE TURKESTAN: Being the Record of Three Years’ Exploration. By Captain H. H. P. Deasy. With Appendices, Maps, and 80 Illustrations. Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, 21s. net. Also a CuEap Epirion, 6s. net.
CLIMBING AND EXPLORATION IN THE KARAKORAM-HIMALAYAS. By Sir Wirt1am Martin Conway, M.A., F.S.A., F.R.G.S. With 300 Illustrations by A. D. McCormick, and Maps. 1 vol., super royal 8yvo, cloth, 31s. 6d. net.
IN THE ICE WORLD OF HIMALAYA.
By Fanny Buttock Workman and WILLIAM Hunter Workman. With four large Maps and nearly 100 Illustrations. Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, 16s. Also a 6s, Edition.
LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN.
SAND-BURIED RUINS or KHOTAN
PERSONAL NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY OF ARCHAEOLOGICAL & GEOGRAPHICAL EXPLORATION DING eG TIENGEo i, ” ace BS ALN:
BY
M. AUREL STEIN
WITH A MAP FROM ORIGINAL SURVEYS AND
NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS
T. FISHER UNWIN PATERNOSTER SQUARE LONDON. M-CM- II]
[ All rights reserved. |
TO. THE MEMORY
OF
MY BROTHER
WHOSE LOVING CARE EVER FOLLOWED ME THROUGH LIFE,
THIS ACCOUNT: OF MY JOURNEY,
FIRST RECORDED FOR HIM,
IS INSCRIBED
IN UNCEASING AFFECTION AND SORROW.
Baer wig a5
INTRODUCTION
THE journey described in these pages was carried out in the year 1900-01, under the auspices of the Government of India. Its main object was the systematic exploration of ancient remains about Khotan and in the adjoining parts of the great desert of Chinese Turkestan. The fresh materials thus brought to light for the study of the early history and culture of those regions were so extensive that my full scientific report must, by reason of its bulk and cost, necessarily remain beyond the reach of the general public. I have therefore gladly availed myself of the permission accorded to me to publish independently the present narrative, which is intended to record for a wider class of readers my personal experiences and observations, as well as the main facts concerning my antiquarian discoveries.
I have spared no trouble to render my account of the latter accurate in its details and yet thoroughly intelligible to the non- Orientalist. It has been my hope to attract his interest to a fascinating chapter of ancient history which witnessed interchange between the civilisations of India, China, and the Classical West in that distant part of Central Asia, and which seemed almost com- pletely lost to us. If this hope is fulfilled, and if at the same time these pages convey adequate impressions of the strange scenes and conditions amidst which I passed that year of trying but happy toil, I shall feel repaid for the additional labour involved in the preparation of this narrative.
The circumstances which induced me to form the project of
vill
vill INTRODUCTION
these explorations, and the arrangements by which I was enabled to carry it into execution, have already been explained in my ‘‘ Pre- liminary Report on a Journey of Archeological and Topographical Exploration in Chinese Turkestan,’ published in 1901 under the authority of the Secretary of State for India. Hence a succinct notice of them may suffice here. The idea of archzological work about Khotan first suggested itself to me in the spring of 1897, in consequence of some remarkable antiquarian acquisitions from that region. Among the papers left by the distinguished but ill-fated French traveller, M. Dutreuil de Rhins, were fragments of ancient birch-bark leaves, which had been acquired in the vicinity of Khotan. On expert examination they proved to contain a Buddhist text in an early Indian script and language, and were soon recognised as the oldest Indian manuscript then known, going back to the first centuries of our era.
About the same time the ‘‘ British collection of Central-Asian antiquities’? formed at Calcutta through the efforts: of Dr. A. F. Rudolf Hoernle, c.1.n., received from the same region notable additions, consisting of fragments of paper manuscripts, pieces of ancient pottery, and similar relics. They had been sold to repre- sentatives of the Indian Government in Kashgar, Kashmir and Ladak as finds made by native ‘‘ treasure-seekers ” at ancient sites about Khotan. Similar purchases had reached public collections at St. Petersburg through the Russian Consul-General at Kashgar and others. A curious feature of all these acquisitions made from a distance was that, besides unmistakably genuine documents in Indian and Chinese writing, they included a large proportion of texts displaying a strange variety of entirely ‘‘ unknown scripts,” which could not fail to arouse suspicion. While the materials thus accumulated, no reliable information was ever forthcoming as to the exact origin of the finds or the true character of the ruined sites which were supposed to have furnished them. No part of Chinese Turkestan had then been explored from an archeological point of view, and it struck me that, however much attention these and other future discoveries might receive from competent Orientalists in
PLAN OF EXPLORATIONS 1X
Europe, their full historical and antiquarian value could never be realised without systematic researches on the spot.
The practicable nature of the project was proved in the meantime by the memorable march which Dr. Hedin made in the winter of 1896 past two areas of sand-buried ruins in the desert north-east of Khotan. Though the distinguished explorer, during his neces- sarily short halt at each place, was unable to secure any exact evidence as to the character and date of the ruins, this discovery (of which the first account reached me in 1898) sufficed to demon- strate both the existence and the comparative accessibility of ancient sites likely to reward excavation.
Tt was only in the summer of 1898 that I found leisure to work out the detailed plan of my journey and to submit it with Dr. Hoernle’s weighty recommendation to the Indian Government, whose sanction and assistance were indispensable for its execution. Generously supported first by Sir Mackworth Young, k.c.s.1., late Lieutenant-Governor of the Punjab, and subsequently on my tem- porary transfer to Bengal by the late Sir John Woodburn, K.¢.s.1., the lamented head of that administration and a zealous friend of Oriental learning, my proposals met with favourable consideration on the part of Lord Curzon’s Government. In July, 1899, the scheme, in which Sir Charles Rivaz, xk.c.s.1., then Member of the Viceregal Council and now Lieutenant-Governor of the Punjab, had from the first shown kind personal interest, received the final sanction of the Government of India. A resolution in the Department of Revenue and Agriculture provided for my deputation on special duty to Chinese Turkestan, during a period of one year. At the same time a grant of Rs. 9,000 (£600), partly from Imperial resources and partly from contributions by the Local Governments of the Punjab and Bengal, was placed at my disposal to meet the estimated expenditure on the journey and explorations.
That, notwithstanding the great distances and physical obstacles to be overcome and in spite of all the uncertainties attending an enterprise in a new field, I succeeded in accomplishing the whole of my programme strictly within the sanctioned estimates of time
Xx INTRODUCTION
and expense is a fact which from a practical and quasi-administra- tive point of view I feel proud to record. How much anxious thought, calculation and effort its attainment cost me, need scarcely be detailed here. Considering the nature and extent of the ground covered by my travels, and the difficulties of work in the desert, the relatively low expenditure involved in my explora- tions has since been noted with surprise by brother archeologists and others.
Long experience of marching and camping gained on Indian ground certainly helped in restricting the cost. But even thus the expenses of my expedition would certainly have been higher, had not the Survey of India Department liberally offered its assistance. Previous antiquarian tours in Kashmir, the Punjab, and on the Afghan Frontier had taught me the importance of exact topo- eraphical observation as an adjunct of my researches. The necessity of fixing accurately the position of ancient sites and generally elucidating the historical geography of the country was bound to bring surveying operations in Chinese Turkestan into the closest connection with my immediate task. But in addition I was anxious from the first to utilise whatever opportunities the journey might offer for geographical work of a more general character in regions which had hitherto remained without a proper survey or altogether unexplored.
Colonel St. George Gore, R.E., 0.S.1., Surveyor-General of India, proved most willing to further this object. He kindly agreed to depute with me one of the native Sub-Surveyors of his Depart- ment, and to provide the necessary equipment of surveying instru- ments, together with a special grant of Rs. 2,000 (£133), in order to cover the additional expenses. Of the excellent services rendered by Babu Ram Singh, the Sub-Surveyor selected, my narrative gives ample evidence. With his help a continuous system of surveys, by plane-table, astronomical observations and triangulation, was carried on during the whole of my travels in Chinese Turkestan. The results of these surveys, which in the mountains I was able to supplement by photogrammetric survey work of my own, and the
AID OF INDIAN GOVERNMENT xl
direction and supervision of which throughout claimed much of my time and attention, are now embodied in maps published by the Trigonometrical Branch of the Survey of India. From these the small scale map was prepared which, with the kind permission of the Royal Geographical Society, has been reproduced for the present volume.
For the generous consideration and aid of the Indian Government that alone enabled me to undertake the scientific enterprise I had planned, I shall ever retain the feeling of deep and sincere gratitude. Through it, I had secured at last the long and eagerly sought chance to serve, in a new field and with a measure of freedom such as had never fallen to my share, those interests of Oriental research which had claimed me from the commencement of my student days, and which had brought me to India.
The twelve years since passed, mainly in the service of the Punjab University, had taught me fully to appreciate the importance of both time and money in regard to archeological labours. Though placed tantalisingly near to the ground which by its ancient remains and historical associations has always had a special fascination for me, I had rarely been able to devote to antiquarian work more than brief intervals of hard-earned leisure.
The fact that my administrative duties had no direct connection with my scientific interests, might well have made me _ feel despondent about the chance of ever obtaining the means needed for systematic archwological explorations, even on well-known ground and in easily accessible regions. For with, I fear, the majority of fellow-workers I had failed to profit by the example of the late Dr. Schliemann, who, before attempting to realise his grand projects at Troy and Mykene, had resolutely set himself to assure that safest base of success, personal independence and an ample reserve of funds.
The exceptional help which the Indian Government, inspired by Lord Curzon’s generous interest in the history and antiquities of the East, had accorded to me, for a time removed the difficulties against which I had struggled, and brought the longed-for oppor-
xi -. INTRODUCTION
tunity within myreach. But remembering the circumstances under which it had been secured, I could not prevent anxious thoughts often crossing my mind in the course of my preparations and after. Would Fate permit the full execution of my plan within the available time, and would the results prove an adequate return for the liberal consideration and aid that the Government had extended to me ?
T knew well that neither previous training and experience, nor careful preparation and personal zeal, could guarantee success. The wide extent of the region to be searched and the utter insufficiency of reliable information would alone have justified doubts as to how much those sand-buried sites would yield up during a limited season. But in addition there was the grave fact that prolonged work in the desert such as I contemplated would have to be carried through in the face of exceptional physical difficulties and even dangers. Nor was it possible to close my eyes to the very serious obstacles which suspicions of the local Chinese administration and quasi-political apprehensions, however unfounded, might raise to the realisation of my programme.
When I now look back upon these anxieties and doubts, and recognise in the light of the knowledge since gathered how much there was to support them, I feel doubly grateful to the kindly Destiny which saved my plans from being thwarted by any of those difficulties, and which allowed my labours to be rewarded by results richer than I had ventured to hope for. In respect of the efforts and means by which these results were secured, no remarks seem here needed; the reader of my present narrative, whatever his knowledge of Central Asia and its historical past may be, can safely be left to judge of them for himself. But in regard to the scientific value of the results similar reticence would scarcely be justified, however much personal feelings might make me incline towards it.
It is impossible to overlook the fact that archeological research in great fields like India and Central Asia, which lie beyond the stimulating influence of Biblical associations, has not as yet succeeded in gaining its due share of sympathy and interest from
SCIENTIFIC RESULTS OF JOURNEY Xill
the wider public. In consequence the latter has so far had little opportunity of learning to appreciate the great historical problems which are involved in those researches. In the absence of such preparatory information the non-Orientalist could not be expected to form for himself a correct estimate of the importance of the discoveries resulting from my explorations without the guidance of expert opinion. I must therefore feel grateful that the generous attention paid to my labours by the most representative body of qualified fellow-scholars permits me to supply expert opinion in a clear and conclusive form.
The International Congress of Orientalists, assembled at Hamburg in September, 1902, before which I was privileged to give an account of my journey and excavations, adopted the following resolution, proposed by Professor Henri Cordier, the representative of the French Government, and Dr. A. A. Macdonell, Boden Professor of Sanskrit at Oxford, and recommended by the com- bined Indian, Central-Asian, and Far-Eastern Sections :—
“ The XILth International Congress of Orientalists held at Hamburg beg to express their thanks to His Excellency the Viceroy and the Government of India for the great encouragement they have extended to Oriental learning and research by granting to Dr. M. A. Stein the neces- sary leisure and means for the prosecution of his recent explorations in Eastern Turkestan. They desire at the same time to express their appre- ciation of the highly important results which have rewarded the labours of the scholar selected by the Government of India, and which represent an ample return for the outlay incurred, owing to the practical nature of the operations conducted by him. They would also venture to: express the hope that facilities will be given to him for completing the publication and elaboration of the results obtained, and that the Government will be pleased to sanction any necessary extension for this purpose of Dr. Stein’s present deputation, Finally, they venture to express the hope that, when circumstances permit, the interests of archeological research will be allowed to benefit by Dr. Stein’s special experience and previous know- ledge, which are likely to facilitate considerably the further explorations which it is desirable should be entrusted to him in the interests of India.”
As far as the space and the limited means of illustration available in this personal narrative would permit, I have endeavoured to
X1V INTRODUCTION
explain to my readers the significance of the mass of antiquarian materials brought to light by my excavations—whether in the form of objects of ancient art and industry; or in those hundreds of old manuscripts and documents which the desert sand has preserved in such surprising freshness ; or finally in the many curious observa- tions I was able to make on the spot about the conditions of every-day life, etc., once prevailing in those sand-buried settlements. But of the great historical questions which all these finds help to illuminate, it was impossible to show more than the bare outlines, and those only in glimpses. This cannot be the place for their systematic discussion. But I may at least indicate here the main directions in which those discoveries are likely to open new vistas into obscure periods of Central-Asian civilisation.
The early spread of Buddhist teaching and worship from India into Central Asia, China and the Far East is probably the most remarkable contribution made by India to the general development of mankind. Chinese records had told us that Buddhism reached the ‘‘ Middle Kingdom ”’ not directly from the land of its birth, but through Central-Asian territories lying northward. We also knew from the accounts left by the devoted Chinese pilgrims who, from the fourth century a.p. onwards, had made their way to the sacred Buddhist sites in India, that Sakyamuni’s creed still counted numerous followers in many of the barbarian ‘‘ Western Kingdoms ’”’ they passed through. But these Chinese travellers, best represented by the saintly “‘ Master of the Law,” Hiuen-Tsiang, our Indian Pausanias, had their eyes fixed on subjects of spiritual interest, on holy places and wonder-working shrines, on points of doctrine and monastic observance. Of the many things of this world about which their observations would have been of far greater interest for the historical student, they have rarely chosen to inform us even within the sacred bounds of India. Hence their brief notices of Central-Asian countries, visited merely en route, fail to supply definite indications of the extent to which Indian culture, language and art had spread with Buddhist propaganda across the Himalaya and the Hindukush.
BUDDHISM IN CENTRAL ASIA xv
That such influences had been at work there for long centuries, and sometimes penetrated even much further to the East, occasional references in the Chinese Annals and elsewhere had led us to sus- pect. But of those indigenous records and remains which might enable us to reconstruct that bygone phase of civilisation in its main aspects, all trace seemed to have vanished with the Muhammadan conquest (tenth—eleventh century).
Chance finds of ancient manuscripts, in Sanskrit and mostly Buddhistic, which commenced in 1890 with Captain (now Colonel) Bower’s famous birch-bark leaves from Kucha, were the first tangible proof that precious materials of this kind might still be preserved under the arid soil of Chinese Turkestan. The importance of these literary relics was great, apart from their philological value ; for they plainly showed that, together with Buddhism, the study of the classical language of India also found a home in that distant land beyond the Himalaya. But on the cultural entowrage in which this far transplanted Indian learning had flourished, such chance acqui- sitions, of uncertain origin and unaccompanied by archeological evidence, could throw little light.
For systematic excavations, which alone could supply this evidence, the region of Khotan appeared from the first a field of particular promise. In scattered notices of Chinese records there was much to suggest that this little kingdom, situated on the important route that led from China to the Oxus Valley and hence to India as well as to the West, had played a prominent part in developing the 3 impulses received from India and transmitting them eastwards. The close connection with ancient Indian art seemed particularly marked in whatever of small antiques, such as pottery fragments, coins and seals, native agency had supplied from Khotan. And fortunately for our researches, archeology could here rely on the help of a very effective ally—the moving sand of the desert which preserves what it buries. Eyer since human activity first created the oases of Khotan territory, their outskirts must have witnessed a continuous struggle with that most formidable of deserts, the Taklamakan; while local traditions, attested from an early
XVi INTRODUCTION
date, told of settlements that had been abandoned before its advance.
The ruined sites explored by me have more than justified the hopes which led me to Khotan and into its desert. Scattered over an area which in a straight line extends for more than three hundred miles from west and east, and dating back to very different periods, these ruins throughout reveal to us a uniform and well-defined civilisation. It is easy to recognise now that this bygone culture rested mainly on Indian foundations. But there has also come to light unmis- takable evidence of other powerful influences, both from the West and from China, which helped to shape its growth and to invest it with an individual character and fascination of its own.
The origin and history of the culture that once flourished in Buddhist Khotan, are faithfully reflected in the remarkable series of sculptures and paintings which the ancient shrines and dwell- ing places, after long centuries of burial beneath the dunes, have yielded up. Exact archeological evidence enables us to determine the various periods at which these settlements were invaded by the desert sand. Though these periods range from the third to the close of the eighth century of our era, yet the prepon- derance of Indian art influences is attested by the latest as well as by the earliest of these finds. The rich statuary of the Rawak Stupa Court, and the decorative wood carvings of the ancient site beyond Niya, reproduce with astonishing fidelity the style and motives of that fascinating ‘ Greco-Buddhist’ art which, fostered by Hellenistic-Roman influences grew up and flourished in Gandharz (the present Peshawar Valley) and other neighbouring tracts in the extreme North-West of India, during the centuries immediately preceding and following the commencement of our era. Yet when we turn from those remains to the frescoes on the walls of the small Buddhist shrines at Dandan-Uiliq, dating some five hundred years later, we recognise with equal distinctness the leading features of ancient Indian pictorial art as preserved for us in the Ajanta Cave paintings.
The records of the Chinese Annals plainly showed us that for
ART OF ANCIENT KHOTAN Xvil
considerable periods under both the Later Han and the Tang dynasties China had maintained effective political control over the kingdom of Khotan. My excavations have confirmed these records, and from the finds of Chinese documents on wood or paper, Chinese coins, articles of manufacture, etc., it has become abundantly clear that Chinese civilisation no less than political ascendency asserted there a powerful influence. Seeing how close for centuries were the relations between Khotan and the great empire eastwards in matters of administration, trade and industrial intercourse, we cannot feel surprised to find a connection in art also attested by manifest traces. It is China which in this direction appears the main borrower ; for besides such distinct historical evidence as the notice about a scion of the royal house of Khotan, whom the Annals name as the founder. of a new pictorial school in China in the seventh century A.D., there is much to suggest that the Indian element which so conspicuously pervades the whole Buddhist art of the Far East had to a very large extent found its way thither through Khotan. Yet a careful analysis of the composition and drawing in more than one of the frescoes and painted panels of Dandan-Uiliq will show that Chinese taste also had its influence on the later art of Khotan.
For us still greater interest must attach to the convincing evidence disclosed as to the question how far into Central Asia the classical art of the West had penetrated during the first centuries of our era. We see its triumphant advance to Khotan, half-way between Western Europe and Peking, strikingly demonstrated by the remarkable series of classical seals, impressed on clay and yet preserved in wonderful freshness, which still adhere to a number of the many ancient documents on wood discovered at the sand-buried site beyond Niya. As explained in Chapter XXV., where I have discussed and illustrated some of these important finds, we cannot make sure in each case where the well-modelled figures of Greek deities, such as Pallas Athene and Eros, or the classically treated portrait heads that appear in these seals, were actually engraved. But it is certain that the seals themselves were currently used by officials and others resident within the kingdom of Khotan, and that
1*
XVili INTRODUCTION
classical models greatly influenced the work of local lapidaries and die-sinkers. The remarkable diversity of the cultural influences which met and mingled at Khotan during the third century a.p. is forcibly brought home to us by these records from a remote Central- Asian settlement, inscribed on wooden tablets in an Indian language and writing and issued by officials with strangely un-Indian titles, whose seals carry us to the classical world far away in the West.
The imitation of early Persian art of which, five centuries later, we find unmistakable traces in some of the paintings of sacred Buddhist subjects recovered from the ruins of Dandan-Uiliq, is a curious parallel, and from a historical point of view almost equally instructive. .
The dwelling places, shrines, etc., of those ancient settlements had, no doubt, before the desert sand finally buried them, been cleared by the last inhabitants and others of everything that possessed intrinsic value. But much of what they left behind, though it could never tempt the treasure-seckers of succeeding ages, has acquired for us exceptional value. The remains of ancient furniture such as the wooden chair reproduced on p- 376; the shreds of silks and other woven fabrics; the tatters of antique rugs; the fragments of glass, metal and pottery ware ; the broken pieces of domestic and agricultural implements, and the manifold other relics, however humble, which had safely rested in the sand-buried dwellings and their deposits of rubbish—these all help to bring vividly before our eyes details of ancient civilisation that without the preserving force of the desert would have been lost for ever.
But however interesting and instructive such details may be, they would, by themselves, not permit us with any degree. of critical assurance to reconstruct the life and social organisation which once flourished at these settlements, or to trace the historical changes which they have witnessed. The hope of ever elucidating such questions was dependent on the discovery of written records, and it is fortunate indeed that, at the very sites which proved richest in those relics of material culture, the finds of ancient manuscripts
DISCOVERIES OF ANCIENT RECORDS X1X
and documents were also unexpectedly ample and varied. The Sanskrit manuscripts excavated at Dandan-Uiliq acquaint us with that class of canonical Buddhist literature which we may assume to have been most cherished in the monastic establishments of ancient Khotan. The series of Chinese documents discovered in ruins of the same site is of particular historical interest. The exact dates recorded in them (781—790 a.p.), in combination with other evidence, clearly indicate the close of the eighth century as the time when the settlement was deserted, while their contents throw curious side- lights on the economical and political conditions of the territory immediately before Chinese suzerain power finally abandoned these regions to Tibetan invasion. Sanskrit manuscripts and records in Chinese mark foreign imports in the culture of Khotan. All the more interest attaches to the numerous documents and fragmentary texts from the same site which show an otherwise unknown language, manifestly non-Sanskritic yet written in Indian Brahmi characters; for it appears very probable that in them we have records of the tongue actually spoken at that period by the indigenous population of Khotan.
We see Sanskrit, Chinese and the same non-Sanskritic language similarly represented among the literary finds from the ruined temple of Endere, in the extreme east of the territory explored. But here in addition there appears Tibetan, as if to remind us of the prominent part which Tibet too has played in the history of Central Asia. A curious Chinese graffito found on the wall of the Endere temple clearly refers to the Tibetans, and gives a date which, since its recent examination by Sinologists, can be safely read as 719 a.p. It is probable that these finds of Tibetan manuscripts are directly connected with that extension of Tibetan power into Eastern Turkestan which the Chinese Annals record for that very period.
But much older and of far greater importance than any of these finds are the hundreds of Kharoshthi documents on wood and leather brought to light from the ruined houses and the rubbish heaps of the ancient settlement discovered beyond the point where
XX INTRODUCTION
the Niya River now loses itself in the desert. Their peculiar writing material (so much older than the paper of my other literary finds), their early Indian script and language, and the surprisingly perfect state of preservation of many among them would alone have sufficed to invest these documents with special interest. But their exceptional historical value is derived from the fact that they prove to contain records written as early as the third century of our era, and dealing with a wide range of matters of administration and private life.
In Chapter XXVI. I have endeavoured to indicate the varied nature and abounding interest of the information which this mass of official reports and orders, letters, accounts, and miscellaneous ‘papers’ (to use an anachronism) is bound to reveal to us. The results already obtained have opened new and far-reaching vistas. It is no small discovery to find the old local tradition of a colonisation of Khotan from the extreme North-West of India confirmed by the use, in ordinary practical intercourse, of an Indian language and a script peculiar to the very region from which those Indian immigrants were believed to have come.
The thought of the grave risks with which nature and, still more, human activity threaten all these relics of antiquity, was ever present to my mind, and formed an urgent incentive to unwearied exertion, however trying the conditions of work might be. On the one hand I had ample occasion in the desert to observe the destructive effect of erosion by wind and sand on whatever of ancient remains is left exposed to its slow but unrelenting power. On the other I could not fail to be impressed by the warnings of impending destruction through the hand of man: there were the evident traces of the mischief done by Khotan “ treasure-seekers ”’ at the more accessible sites, and also, alas! a vivid remembrance of the irretrievable loss - which the study of Indian art and antiquities has suffered through ‘irresponsible digeing’’ carried on until recent years by, and for, amateur collectors among the ruined Buddhist shrines of the North- West Frontier of India.
Though the climate of the Turkestan desert is not inferior in
RISKS TO KHOTAN ANTIQUITIES XX1
conserving capacity to that of Egypt, yet neither Khotan nor any other territory bordering on that desert could ever compare with the land of the Pharaohs in wealth of antiquarian remains awaiting exploration. ‘‘ Ancient cities,’ complete with palaces, streets, markets, etc., such as are pictured by Turkestan folklore, and also by indiscriminating Kuropean imagination, as lying submerged under the sand-dunes through a kind of Sodom and Gomorrah catastrophe, are certainly not to be looked for. The sites where settlements abandoned in early times could be located, with ruins still capable of excavation, were few in number, and even those among them which, being further removed from the present inhabited area, had so far escaped the ravages of the ‘‘ treasure-seekers,” could not be expected to remain safe much longer. The time seems still distant when Khotan will see its annual stream of tourists. Yet the extensive industry of forged ‘‘ old books” which had grown up in Khotan during recent years, and which I was able to trace and expose in detail (see Chapter XXXI.), sufficiently shows how dangerous a factor ‘‘ collecting” has already become even in Chinese Turkestan.
In the face of such difficulties as work in the Taklamakan presents I could never have made my explorations sufficiently extensive and thorough without the active co-operation of the Chinese administrators of the districts from which I had to draw guides, labour, supplies—in fact, whatever was needed during my winter campaign in the desert. I had the good fortune to find in the Ambans Pan-Darin and Huang-Daloi, then in charge of Khotan and Keriya, reliable friends, thoroughly interested in my work and ever ready to help me with all that was in their power. I look back to the invariable kindness and attention I received from these amiable Mandarins with all the more gratitude as it was shown at a time when, as they well knew, the conflict with the European powers was convulsing their empire. They were fully aware, too, that the services rendered to my scholarly enterprise could earn them neither material advantages nor honours.
The true historical sense innate in educated Chinese and the
XXli INTRODUCTION
legendary knowledge I found to prevail among them of Hiuen- Tsiang, the great Buddhist pilgrim, whom I claimed as my guide and patron saint, certainly helped me in explaining the objects of my explorations to my Chinese friends and enlisting their personal interest. But I cannot doubt that the sympathetic attitude adopted from the first by the provincial administration towards my work was directly due to the efforts made on my behalf by Mr. G. Macartney, C.1.E., the representative of the Indian Government at Kashgar, whose personal influence among all Chinese dignitaries of the province is as great as it is well deserved. My narrative shows the manifold benefits I derived from the unfailing care of this kind and accomplished friend, who from afar never ceased to follow my explorations with watchful interest. For the important help he thus rendered towards their success, and for all his personal kindness, I am anxious to record here the expression of my sincere gratitude.
The résumé given above of the aims and results of my archeo- logical work will, I hope, help to account for the character of my present narrative and the labour involved in its preparation. The interests of science obliged me to concentrate my efforts on a series of well-defined tasks and to avoid whatever might interfere with their carefully prepared execution. Mine was not a journey leaving much range for those chance incidents which may at times lead to exciting personal experiences, but are far more likely to cause loss in substantial results through waste of time, energy and means. I can only hope that my book may reach readers ready to find compensation in the thought that long-continued study of the ancient Kast and familiarity with modern India and its northern borderlands permit me to offer them guidance in regard to much ° that is of general human interest both in the present conditions and the historical past of the regions traversed.
The critical standards to which I am pledged by my work as a scholar would not allow me to compile a narrative by the mere reproduction of those diary leaves which were intended to convey the first records of my personal experiences and impressions to
PREPARATION OF PERSONAL NARRATIVE — xxiii
dear eyes since closed for ever by Death. Though my account was intended for a wider public than that of Orientalist or antiquarian scholars, yet I felt it incumbent to take every care that it should neither contain statements which further scrutiny might require to be modified in my scientific Report, nor pass over unnoticed any essential facts connected with my archeological discoveries.
The preparation of my narrative on these lines has implied far more labour than may, perhaps, appear on the surface. It would, in fact, have been impossible to accomplish it with the scanty leisure left from official duties as Inspector of Schools in the Punjab, to which I had to return on the conclusion of my explorations, in the autumn of 1901. Fortunately, however, the Government of India, on the proposal of the Punjab Government and with the concurrence of the Secretary of State for India, granted to me in the following year a period of deputation to England in order that I might be enabled to elaborate the results of my journey with the help of the original finds temporarily deposited in the British Museum. .
For the generous consideration thus shown to me I feel it my duty to record here my deep sense of gratitude to His Excellency the Viceroy and the Indian Government. Just as my explorations were rendered possible only through their powerful aid, so, too, I owe to their liberality the temporary freedom for scholarly labour which has permitted me to complete the present narrative. I feel confident that its contents will be found in more than one respect a necessary complement to my Detailed scientific Report which is still under preparation. On the other hand, I must refer my readers to the latter publication for many illustrations of antiqui- ties, ruins, scenery, etc., which to my regret it was found impossibie, on account of technical difficulties and other reasons, to provide here.
It remains for me to record my grateful acknowledgments for the manifold assistance which I have received while preparing this volume. ‘To none do I feel more indebted than to my artist friend, Mr. Fred. H. Andrews, who ever since my return from Chinese
XXIV INTRODUCTION
Turkestan has furthered my labours with enthusiastic devotion. His wide knowledge of ancient Indian art, acquired in his late post as Principal of the School of Art and Curator of the Museum at Lahore, and his own high artistic abilities, have rendered his co-operation in the arrangement and description of my collection of antiquities of the utmost value. He has never wearied in giving me the full benefit of his expert advice in questions affecting the technical aspects of my finds, and he has spared no trouble to make the illustrations of this book as effective as their number and the available means of reproduction would permit.
Besides drawings and diagrams embodied in these pages I owe to his skill the design reproduced on the cover of this volume and the Black and White drawing for the Vignette which adorns the title- page. This represents a restored yet faithfully conceived enlarge- ment of the figure of Pallas Athene as seen in several of the ancient seal impressions on clay excavated by me from the desert. sand. I could scarcely have wished for my narrative to issue under a more felicitous emblem.
Dr, A. F. Rudolf Hoernle, the eminent Indologist, who from the first had shown the warmest interest in my explorations, was kind enough to place at my disposal valuable information in respect of the ancient manuscripts in Brahmi characters, the publication of which has been undertaken by him; he has further rendered me the great service of reading a revision of this book. I owe a similar debt of gratitude to my friend Mr. E. J. Rapson, of the British Museum, who not only charged himself with the care of my collection while I was absent in India, but has also allowed me to benefit at all times by the results of the most painstaking researches he has devoted to the decipherment of the ancient Kharoshthi documents. To Dr. Perey Gardner, Professor of Archeology in the University of Oxford, I am indebted for most competent guidance in respect of the objects of classical art contained in my collection, and for much kind encouragement besides.
For the interpretation of my important Chinese records I must
ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF FRIENDLY HELP XXV
consider myself particularly fortunate in having enjoyed the assis- tance of such distinguished Sinologist experts as Dr. S. W. Bushell, o.M.@., and Professors E. Chavannes and Douglas. The complete translation and analysis of those documents with which Professor Chavannes, of the Collége de France, has favoured me for publication in my Detailed Report, has already proved of very great value for the study of Chinese influence in Turkestan. Dr. Bushell and Professor Douglas, of the British Museum, have never failed to help me with learned advice on questions concerning Chinese lore.
If I have left it to the last to mention my obligations to my friends Mr. J. 8. Cotton, late editor of the ‘‘ Academy,” and Mr. P. 8. Allen, of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, it is only because theirs was the help benefiting more directly the Western or modern aspect of the work now presented. The former did me the great favour of revising my manuscript with special regard to the requirements of the general reader, a task for which he was exceptionally qualified by his literary experience ; while the other kind friend cheerfully charged himself with a revision of my proofs and greatly helped me by its thoroughness. To his kind offices and the generous mediation of Mr. Cuthbert Shields, I owed the peaceful retreat for scholarly work’ which the hospitality of the President and Fellows of Corpus Christi College assured to me during the summer of 1902. With those inspiriting precincts, full of great memories from Erasmus to Ruskin, I shall always associate the recollection of the pleasantest part of my work in England.
* *
The narrative here presented still leaves me far from the conclusion of the labours which the antiquities and observations brought back from Chinese Turkestan have entailed upon me. Yet even thus I cannot prevent my eyes from looking beyond towards other fields of archzwological exploration, no less closely linked with the sphere of Indian historical interests and equally
XXV1 INTRODUCTION
likely to yield a rich harvest. On some my thoughts had been fixed long before I was able to visit India; but the years which have since passed by, though as full of scholarly labours as other duties would permit, have seemingly not brought me nearer to the longed-for chance of exploring them.
Life seems short where the range for research ig so vast as in the case of ancient India and the regions through which it com- municated with the classical West. But life must appear shorter still when the chosen tasks cannot be done in the study, when they call for the exertions of the scholar and explorer combined, such as are readily faced only while the optimism of comparative youth and physical vigour endures. To Fate—and to those who dispense it, I offer due thanks for having allowed me to work on Indian ground and at last, after years of toil, to attain for a time freedom and the means to serve science. Yet when I look back upon all the efforts that had to precede this opportunity, I am tempted to regret that I cannot share the Indian belief in those ‘ future births’ which hold out promise of appropriate reward for ‘ merits,’ spiritual and other. For on the strength of such a belief I might feel more hopeful of meeting yet with that reward for my work at Khotan which I should prize highest,—the chance of repeating it else- where.
M. AUREL STEIN.
British Musrvum, April 16, 1903.
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
PAGE First plan of explorations—Sanction and assistance of Indian Govern- ment—Hstimates of time and expense—Help of Survey of India Department—Previous obstacles to archeological labours—Un- certainties of enterprise—Value of scientific results—Resolution of International Oriental Congress—Buddhism in Central Asia— Antiquarian acquisitions from Chinese Turkestan—Indian in- fluences at Khotan—Ancient art of Khotan—Cultural connection with China—Relics of classical art—Interchange of ancient civilisations—Discoveries of Sanskrit, Chinese, Tibetan manu- scripts—Kharoshthi documents on wood—Ruins threatened by ** treasure-seekers ’’—Help from Chinese officials— Purpose of Personal Narrative—Consideration shown by Indian Government —Acknowledgment of scholarly assistance—Prospects of future archeological work : i : 4 ; vii-xxvi
CHAPTER I CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR
On Mohand Marg—Previous antiquarian tours—Start from Calcutta —Up the Jhelam Valley—Arrival in Kashmir—Preparations at Srinagar—The Kashmir Chronicle—Camp on Sind River—The Bagh of Buchvor—Joined by Sub-Surveyor—Formation of camp —Start from Srinagar. : : ‘ s . 1-10
XXV11
XXVUi CONTENTS CHAPTER II
TO ASTOR AND GILGIT PAGE Start on Gilgit route—A ‘ Master of the Gates ’’—Over the Tragbal Pass—Descent over snow-bridges—Valley of the ‘ Black Ganga” —Among the Dards—Halt at Gurez—In the Burzil Valley—Mini- marg—Crossing of Burzil Pass—Belated Commissariat—Views of Nanga-Parbat Peaks—The Astor capital—First sight of Indus —Halt at Duyan—The British Baby—Down to the Indus—A night ride from Bunji—At the pers apn Indian “Station” . : ; : . 11-28 :
CHAPTER III THROUGH HUNZA
Start from Gilgit—In the old Dogra Service—Glories of Mount Rakiposhi— The storming of Nilth—A_ historic gorge—Old adversaries—Stupa of Thol—Language of Hunza—Halt at Aliabad—Old raiding days—Relations with China—The Hunza Levies—Visit to Mir’s Castle—First march in Hunza Gorge— Ghammesar landslip—Climbs over ‘ Rafiks ’"~Ghulmit—Wakhi settlements—Glaciers near Pasu—Crossing of Batur Glacier— ‘Darband’ of Khaibar—More alpine climbs—Marching of Kanjutis —A polyglot camp—Climbs to Misgar—Hunza hillmen dis- charged—A_ Celestial soldier—Yaks from the Pamir—Among Sarikoli herdsmen . F ; k ; : . 29-56
CHAPTER IV ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR
Crossing of Kilik Pass—Camp at K6k-térék—Survey work commenced —Watershed towards Oxus—Crossing of Wakhjir Pass—Oxus Source Glaciers—On Afghan soil—A vista into Wakhan—First news of Chinese troubles—March down the Taghdumbash Pamir —Chance meeting with German officer—Kirghiz and Wakhi settlers—Over pleasant grazing-grounds—Ride to Tashkurghan—
A difficult fording . ; ; : p ‘ . 57-70
CONTENTS XXIX CHAPTER V
IN SARIKOL
: PAGE
Tash-kurghan, Ptolemy’s ‘“ Stone Tower ”’—On the track of Hiuen- Tsiang—Ruins of old town—Diplomatic surveying — Chinese garrison — Meeting with Sarikoli headmen — Applicants for “ Tabloids’ — Requisitions for kitchen— Plain of Tagharma— Muztagh-Ata sighted—March along Russian Pamir—A Kirghiz shrine—At Karasu post—Crossing of Ulugh-Rabat Pass — Old friends, the marmots—Chinese at Subashi post— Arrival at Little Kara-kul ; : , ; F . 71-838
CHAPTER VI ON MUZTAGH-ATA
Lakes of L. Kara-kul and Basik-kul—Day of alpine rain—Apprehen- sions of Kirghiz Beg— Kirghiz hospitality — A hitch about transport—Photo-theodolite survey — Start for Muztagh-Ata— Reconnoitring the great peaks—Heavy mantle of snow and ice— Along Yambulak Glacier—Trouble with Yaks—Preliminary climb Reconnaissance of Hunza Levies—Waiting for fair weather— Start for higher slopes—Climb in deep snow—Mountain-sickness of followers—Highest point reached—View over “Roof of the World ”—Plucky Hunza guides—Freebooting Visions — Descent to Yambulak Glacier Camp—Triangulation from Shamalda spur —Return to Kara-kul .. : ; , 3 . 84-105
CHAPTER VII THROUGH THE GEZ DEFILE TO KASHGAR
Departure from Kara-kul—Tarns of Basik-kul—Obstruction at Bulun- kul—A pliable interpreter—Entrance of Gez Defile—Chinese engineering—Crossing Koksel Glacier—At Gez Karaul—Abscond- ing of Kirghiz—Opportune relief—Over the ‘‘ Nine Passes ’”’— Through tortuous gorges—Solitary spring—Distant view of plains —Serambles over decomposed ranges—Arrival in Tashmalik plain—Passage of Yamanyar R.—Through the Opal oasis-—First impressions of rural Turkestan—Ride into Kashgar. . 106-120
XXX
Mr.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER VIII STAY AT KASHGAR
Maceartney’s hospitable roof—Stay at Chini-Bagh—Organisation of caravan—Purchase of camels and ponies— Engagement of Turki followers—The Kashgar craftsmen—Water-tanks for the desert—Congenial studies—Visits to Chinese officials—Appeal to Hiuen-Tsiang’s memory—News of fighting at Peking—Dangers of local troubles—Life at Chini-Bagh—A polyglot clientéle—Pienics of Kashgaris—The Russian Consulate—Remains of Stupas—Visit to Liu-Kin-tang’s temple—Chinese historical paintings—In the
PAGE
Chinese cantonment— Visit to an artist-official . , . 121-138
CHAPTER IX
KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH
First start from Kashgar—Via Appia of Kashgar—Collation at Besh-
karim—Shrine of holy Mairyam—Camp at Khanui—Site of Hasa-Tam—Ruins of Topa Tim—The Mauri Tim Stupa—‘“ The pigeon house”’ ruin—Departure from Kashgar—Ride to Khanarik —Hindu moneylenders—March to Achchik—On edge of desert— First crossing of sand-dunes—Arrival at Ordam-Padshah— Shrines in the desert—‘ Yolchi Beg’ on a camel—Tomb of Hazrat-Begim
—Oasis of Kizil—A dreary caravan-route ; ; . 189-160
CHAPTER X
YARKAND AND KARGHALIK
Reclamation of desert ground—Entry into Yarkand—Palatial quarters
—Halt at Yarkand—Cosmopolitan visitors—Strange mixture of races—Old Turkestan art-ware-—Interviews with Liu-Darin— Chinese dinner-party—Currency complications—Departure from Yarkand—Crossing of Yarkand River—Halt at Karghalik—Visit of Karghalik Amban—Bazars of Karghalik—Buddhist monk
from China . ; A i H a . 161-179
CONTENTS XXXi
CHAPTER XI
ON THE ROAD TO KHOTAN PAGE Ancient desert route—On the track of Marco Polo—An exile in the desert—In Guma oasis—Enquiries after alleged ‘old books ’’— Karakul Mazar—Glimpse of Karakorum Range—Stupa of Topa Tim—Débris-strewn ‘ Tatis ’—Eroded ancient sites—An evening in weird desolation—Old remains at Moji—Oases of Zanguya and Pialma—Comfortable homesteads 7 i ; . 180-193
CHAPTER XII ARRIVAL IN KHOTAN
“The Pigeons’ sanctuary”—Legend of sacred rats—Survival of Buddhist local cult—Rural environs—Entry into Khotan town— Camp in residential gardens—First meeting with Pan-Darin— Despatch of ‘ prospecting” parties—Preparing for the moun- tains—Interesting geographical task—TForged birch-bark manu- script—Suspected forgeries 5 ; ; ’ . 194-205
CHAPTER XIII TO THE HEADWATERS OF THE YURUNG-KASH
Start for the mountains—Debouchure of Yurung-kash R.—Through the outer ranges-——Crossing of Ulugh-Dawan—Trying march to Buya—In the Pisha Valley—A centenarian hillman—* Kuen-luen Peak No. 5”—A grand panorama—Precipitous descent—Arrival in Karanghu-tagh—A penal settlement—A gloomy vale—Start from Karanghu-tagh—March to Yurung-kash Gorge—Hot spring —Wild river-bed—Attempt to Coun gorge—Forced to turn back—Climbing on Yaks } , : . 206-224
CHAPTER XIV
OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES
A terra incognita-—-A hidden mountain track—Crossing of Pom-tagh Pass—In the Nissa Valley—Mythic Nysa of Dionysus—Difficult
XXXxil CONTENTS
PAGE tent-pitching—Survey above Brinjak Pass—Panorama of glaciers —A trying descent—Combination of ice and dust—Distrustful hillmen—View from Yagan Dawan—Maze of eroded ridges— Through fantastic gorges—Want of water—March in Mitaz Valley —Climb to Ulughat-Dawan— Extensive panorama — Identification of ice-peaks—Connection with Indian Surveys— Waiting for water—Night on Ulughat-Dawan—Moonlight over desert plains—A magic city—Triangulation of Khotan—Descent to Kara-kash Valley—Return to arid ae ably of Kauruk- kuz—Successful triangulation . ‘ . 225-243
CHAPTER XV ANTIQUARIAN PREPARATIONS AT KHOTAN
Visit to Mount Gosringa—Legend of hidden Arhat—In a sacred cave —Easy-going Muhammadans—Return to Khotan town—Antiques brought by Turdi—Visits of Pan-Darin—The blessing of ‘ Tang- Seng’—Camp in Akhun Beg’s garden—Medical functions—Ram Singh’s departure—Remains of Chalmakazan—Among the jade- pits—Speculative jade-mining—Fame of Khotan jade . . 244-255
CHAPTER XVI YOTKAN, THE SITE OF THE ANCIENT CAPITAL
Camels stuck in ‘ Yars ’—First discovery of Yotkan site—Washing for gold—Antiques as secondary products—Ancient coins and pottery —Oulture-strata of Yotkan—Silt over culture-strata— Alluvial deposits on irrigated ground—Rising of ground level—Site of ancient capital—Position of Sa-mo-joh Convent—Lingering local worship—lIdentification of Buddhist shrines—The marsh of Halalbagh—A learned Mullah—Abu Bakr’s excavations—Pre- parations for winter ; F 4 P : ', 256-269
CHAPTER XVII
TO THE RUINS OF DANDAN-UILIQ
Start for desert campaign—At Tawakkel oasis— Recruiting of diggers —Hunters as guides—Preparations at Tawakkel—Failure of local
CONTENTS XXxXlil
PAGE dentistry—Start into desert—Camping in wintry desert—Arctic clothing—Turdi guides through sand-dunes—Arrival at Dandan- Uiliq—First survey of ruins—Fuel from ancient orchards . 270-280
CHAPTER XVIII EXCAVATION OF BUDDHIST SHRINES
Stueco-relievos of ruined shrine—Excavation of temple-cellas —Con- struction of walls—Decoration of cellas—Buddhist frescoes— Sculptures in chapel—Painted panels—Ancient brooms—In- teresting relievos—Scenes represented in frescoes—Legend of Naga lady—Picture of Buddhist scholars : : . 281-294
CHAPTER XIX : FIRST FINDS OF ANCIENT MANUSCRIPTS
Excavation of monastic dwelling—First leaf unearthed—Sanskrit manuscript finds— Discovery of Sanskrit ‘ Pothi’ — Buddhist canonical text—Cook-room of monastic dwelling—Return of Ram Singh — Rendezvous in desert—Accuracy of surveys — “ The Aksakal of the Taklamakan ’’—Turdi’s old pony—A failed specu- lation——An antique fodder store—End of ill-fated animal . 295-306
CHAPTER XX DISCOVERY OF DATED DOCUMENTS
Finds in ruined monastery—Picture of rat-king—Documents in unknown language—Probable contents—Finds of Chinese records —An ancient petition—Ancient name of Dandan-Uiliq—Christ- mas Day in desert—Lost among dunes—‘ Yolchi Beg,’ fox- terrier—The Hu-kuo monastery—Its Chinese documents—Date of its abandonment—More painted panels—Ancient ‘ horse- millinery ”—Persian art influence — Buddhist pictorial art— Traces of old cultivation—Abandonment of settlement—Probable cause of abandonment. ; ‘ : ; . 807-324
iL Seek
Xxxiv CONTENTS
CHAPTER XXI
THROUGH THE DESERT TO KERIYA PAGE Departure from Dandan-Uiliq—Remains of Rawak—Dismissal of Tawakkel labourers—Start for Keriya Darya—Formidable sand- dunes—Crossing of ‘ Dawans’—Arrival at frozen river—Desert shrine of Burhanuddin—Jungle of Keriya R.— Welcome at Keriya—The Amban of Keriya—Visits of state—Halt in Keriya town : : ‘ ; . ; ‘ . 325-338
CHAPTER XXII TO NIYA AND IMAM JAFAR SADIK
View of Kuen-luen—Yesyulghun and Ovraz—Oasis of Niya—Ramzan festival—A promising find—First Kharoshthi tablets — March along Niya River — Reclamation of jungle ground — Winter atmosphere of desert— Through riverine jungle—Shrine of | Imam Jafar Sadik—Exhibition of textile ex-votos—Tomb on sacred hill—Start for ancient site—Transport of ice—Where the’ Niya R. loses itself—Through dead forest—Ancient houses sighted —Arrival at ruins ‘ : ‘ ; . 889-3538
CHAPTER XXIII FIRST EXCAVATION OF KHAROSHTHI TABLETS
Search of first find-place—Ibrahim’s chance discovery—An abundant haul—Varieties of inscribed wooden tablets—Type of Kharoshthi writing—First decipherment—Language of records—Clearing of rooms—More documents discovered—Wedge-shaped and oblong tablets — Dated records—FErosive power of wind—Structures attacked by erosion ; é : , ‘ . 854-368
CHAPTER XXIV EXCAVATION OF ANCIENT RESIDENCES
Decayed records on wood—Ancient ice-pit-—Large dwelling-houses— An old reception-hall—Excavations in deep sand—Remains of
CONTENTS XXXV
PAGE coloured rug—Broken arms from storage room—Ancient carved chair—Antique furniture—Plan of an ancient garden—Dead poplars and fruit trees—Troublesome followers—Niaz Akhun’s truculent propensities—Quarrel with camel-man—Affray in desert camp—‘ The evil spirits of the Desert ”’ : > 4 869-884
CHAPTER XXV DISCOVERIES IN AN ANTIQUE RUBBISH HEAP
Discovery of ancient rubbish layers—Survey of Stupa ruin—Ancient ‘“waste-paper ’ deposits—Clearing of consolidated refuse—Antique microbes—Kharoshthi documents on leather—Technicalities of wooden stationery — Fastening of ancient envelopes—Classical seals in clay—Pallas Athene and Eros—Symbols of classical influence . ; : , ‘ é F . 885-397
CHAPTER XXVI
DECIPHERMENT OF ANCIENT DOCUMENTS ON WOOD AND LEATHER
Prakrit language of Kharoshthi records— Ancient official corre- spondence—Titles of officials—Sanskrit introductions—Old names of Khotan—Tradition of Indian immigration—Khotan colonized from Taxila—Unique tablet in Brahmi—Chronological evidence —Chinese dated record —Commercial relations with China— Relics of ancient industry—Architectural wood-carving . 398-408
CHAPTER XXVII THE RUINS OF ENDERE
Return to Imam Jafar Sadik—To the Yartungaz River—A forlorn colony—Vagaries of Yartungaz River—Through the desert to Endere River—Arrival at Endere Stupa—A successful concen- tration—Ancient circumvallation—Excayvation of temple—Manu- script finds—Leaves in unknown language—Tibetan manuscripts —Oldest known Tibetan writing—Records of Tibetan invasion— Date in Chinese graffito—Ancient ex-votos of rags—Remains of ancient ramparts—Survey of Stupa : ; ; . 409-422
XXXvVl CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXVIII
EXPEDITION TO KARADONG RUINS PAGE
Return towards Niya—On the desert track to Cherchen—‘‘ Home mails ’’—Forced marches to Keriya—Help of Amban—Start for Karadong— Along the Keriya River—The shepherds of the riverine jungle—Guides from Tonguz-baste—The first sand-storm —Arrival at Karadong—A legend of Hiuen-tsiang— Ancient fortified post—Excavation of ruins—Finds of ancient cereals— Return of ‘Buran’—Sad news . : : ; . 423-483
CHAPTER XXIX
THE SEARCH FOR HIUEN-TSIANG’S PI-MO
March back along Keriya River—Through the Shivul swamps—In new cultivation—Difficulty about guides—Deserted village sites —Shifts of irrigated area—Legend of Ho-lo-lo-kia—An Odyssey amidst the dunes—Remains at Uzun-tati—Lachin-Ata Mazar— The oasis of Gulakhma— Farewell visit to Keriya—Oases of Chira and Sampula—‘ Tati’ of Hanguya—Return to Khotan environs . ; : - : ; : . 484-445
CHAPTER XXX AK-SIPIL AND THE SCULPTURES OF THE RAWAK STUPA
Halt at Yurung-kash—“ Culture-strata ’’ of Tam-Oghil—March to Ak-sipil—Remains of ancient fort—Sculpture from Kighillik—A huge refuse-heap— Discovery of Rawak Stupa— Succession of sand-storms—Trying heat and glare—Plan of Stupa—Excavation in Stupa court—Clearing of colossal statues—Threatened collapse of images—Risks of excavation— Wealth of statuary—Interesting relievos—‘“ Guardians of the Gates ’””"—A quaint ex-voto—Affinity to Greco-Buddhist art—Numismatic finds— Date of Stupa— Removal of relievos—Burying of sculptures. : . 446-468
CONTENTS XXXVI
CHAPTER XXXI
ISLAM AKHUN AND HIS FORGERIES PAGE Return to Khotan—Quarters at Nar-Bagh—Interviews with Pan- Darin — Purchases of ‘‘old books’’— Suspicions about Islam Akhun — Arrest of Islam Akhun— His previous impostures— Queer papers seized on him—An improvised ‘‘ Cutchery ’—Cross- examination of forger—Convicted by his own statements—Islam Akhun’s admissions—Associates in the factory—Manufacture of ‘old books’’—Methods of production—The forger’s confessions —Wit and humour of Islam Akhun ; ; ’ . 469-481
CHAPTER XXXII LAST DAYS IN KHOTAN OASIS
Farewell to Pan-Darin—Departure from Khotan town—‘ Tips” in Turkestan—Last visit to Yotkan—Petty trade of oasis—Foreign colonies—Visit to Kara-kash town—Site of Kara-débe—Leave- taking of Turdi—Niaz Akhun’s matrimonial entanglement— Farewell to Khotan friends—An offering at the ‘* Pigeons’ Shrine” . ‘ ‘ ; : : tn . 482-489
CHAPTER XXXIII FROM KHOTAN TO LONDON
Rapid marches to Yarkand—Return to Kashgar—Demobilisation of caravan—Agsistance from Russian Consul-General—Among old friends—Packing of antiquities—Farewell to faithful companions —Start for Osh—Over the Alai Passes—Down the Gulcha Valley —Welcome at Osh—In Russian Turkestan—The Andijan Bazars —Moghul monuments—From Samarkand to the Caspian—Arrival in London—Temporary work on collection—Conclusion - 490-502
INDEX ; , : ‘ 2 ; : . 508-524
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
SEATED BUDDHA, BETWEEN TORSOS OF COLOSSAL STATUES, RAWAK STUPA Frontispiece
PAGE MOHAND MARG, KASHMIR . : J : ; : : Sei! ANCIENT TEMPLE AT PANDRENTHAN, KASHMIR : 4 , 7 a ANG, VIEW IN BURZIL VALLEY . F : f : j é Fe Hi MIR’S CASTLE AT BALTIT . : : : F ; A . 29 CLIFFS OF NILTH GORGE, NAGIR . ‘ : ; : : x 155] STUPA OF THOL, NAGIR . . s : ? : i - 35 MOUNT RAKIPOSHI, SEEN FROM ALIABAD . i . ? , are: HUNZA COOLIES, BEFORE START FROM ALIABAD J ; ‘ fA eT FORT-VILLAGE OF ALTIT . } ; , : 4 : a ao RAFIK ABOVE ATAABAD : . : : A : ss » 44 WAKHI VILLAGERS, GHULMIT f ; : A ; : . 46 VIEW TO NORTH-EAST OF PASU VILLAGE . : } : 5 5 48 BATUR GLACIER, SEEN FROM SOUTH-EAST . : P ‘ , . 49 HUNZA VALLEY BELOW KHAIBAR. : : * : : . 60 RAFIK NEAR MURKHUN : : : dl : F ‘ yy aia KANJUTIS CARRYING MERCHANDISE . : 5 : A : . o2 KANJUTI HILLMEN, DISCHARGED AT MISGAR : : : 3 . dd YAKS STARTING FOR KILIK PASS . “ d : : ‘ $e Saf KILIK PASS, SEEN FROM KHUSHBEL 3 : z ; ; Ngye} SNOWY RANGE SOUTH OF HEAD OF AB-I-PANJA VALLEY ; ‘ A ae Teal PHOTO-THEODOLITE VIEW OF OXUS SOURCE GLACIERS : , , , [262 VIEW DOWN AB-I-PANJA VALLEY FROM NEAR WAKHJIR PASS : 2 4 KIRGHIZ ‘ AK-UIS’ AT TIGHARMAN-SU : ’ ‘ : u ra ats) WAKHIS AND KIRGHIZ AT DAFDAR . , 4 : Fe : 4) {6%}
XXxix
xl . LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE CHINESE FORT WITHIN RUINED TOWN OF TASHKURGHAN . : 5 a Al IN THE CEMETERY OF TIZNAF : ; ; , 5 ; afk CHINESE GARRISON OF SUBASHI. x : 2 ; { two MUZTAGH-ATA PEAKS, SEEN FROM ABOVE YAMBULAK VALLEY , ; . 84 ICY RANGE, WITH SARGULUK PEAK, TO NORTH-EAST OF KARAKUL LAKE. SD) MUZTAGH-ATA PEAKS, SEEN FROM CAMP SOUTH OF LAKE KARAKUL ; enol VIEW FROM ABOVE YAMBULAK GLACIER LOOKING WESTWARDS j : 2 ANTS ICY RANGE WITH PEAKS ABOVE KONGUR-DEBE AND KOKSEL GLACIERS i . 104 START FOR GEZ DEFILE . : : ; ; ; j . 106 ASCENT OF SHAGILDIK DAWAN y ‘ 4 . , Seats; ROAD TO MR. MACARTNEY’S HOUSE, WITH CITY WALL, KASHGAR . : . 120 PRIEST IN LIU-KIN-TANG’S SHRINE . : é ; 5 ’ . 135 IN THE BAZAR OF THE “‘ NEW CITY,” KASHGAR. : : A _. 136 MY SERVANTS FROM KASHGAR AND YARKAND ; : ; . Posie CARAVAN STARTING FROM KASHGAR : { : , : 3389 BEGS AND AKSAKAL OF BESHKARIM : : : 4 : . 142 RUINED STUPA OF MAURI TIM A ‘ : : ' ; . 147 HINDU MONEYLENDERS é P ° ‘ : é ; . boll PILGRIMS’ SARAI AT ORDAM-PADSHAH ; ’ 4 : : . 156 ENTRANCE TO THE YAMEN, YARKAND : ‘ : F , . 161 BADAKHSHANI TRADER, YARKAND . F i ; : ‘. . 165 LIU-DARIN, AMBAN OF YARKAND . : ; ; ; ; HALO). YETIMLUKUM MAZAR, WITH CEMETERY, NEAR KARGHALIK . ; 3 . 175 BUDDHIST MONK FROM CHINA : ; : : ine : . 178 MENDICANT, OR ‘DIWANA’ . 5 ; } : fit ; . 186 HOUSE OF TOKHTA AKHUN, KHOTAN : 5 : ; F . 199 PAN-DARIN, AMBAN OF KHOTAN, WITH PERSONAL ATTENDANTS : : . 200 MUZTAGH PEAK, IN KUEN-LUEN RANGE : ; : ; 4 . 206 TAGHLIKS AND EXILED CRIMINALS AT KARANGHU-TAGH . : 216 VIEW UP THE YURUNG-KASH GORGE, WITH SPURS OF, PEAK K. 5 ON LEFT eal’) YAKS CARRYING BAGGAGE IN YURUNG-KASH GORGE, NEAR KARANGHU-TAGH ele KUEN-LUEN RANGE, WITH GLACIERS OF NISSA VALLEY, SEEN. FROM BRINJAK . 230 ERODED RANGES TO NORTH-WEST, SEEN FROM ABOVE YAGAN-DAWAN : . 234 TURDI, ‘‘ TREASURE SEEKER” é i 5 Z : . 248
KHOTANESE WAITING FOR MEDICINES 5 < ‘ ‘ A . 250
SPECIMENS OF ARCHITECTURAL WOOD-CARVING, FROM RUINED DWELLING-HOUSE
(N. vr).
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xhi PAGE JADE-PIT WITH DIGGERS, NEAR DEBOUCHURE OF YURUNG-KASH . é 253 NORTH-WEST CORNER OF EXCAVATED AREA AT YOTKAN, WITH ENTRANCE To ‘YAR’ 258 ANTIQUES FROM YOTKAN . - ; 260 TERRA-COTTA FIGURINES FROM YOTKAN 4 261 OLD VILLAGERS OF SOMIYA 266 CAMELS STARTING FOR DANDAN-UILIQ 3 . 270 AHMAD MERGHEN AND KASIM AKHUN, OF TAWAKKEL 272 TAWAKKEL LABOURERS TAKEN TO DANDAN-UILIQ. . 274 CAMP IN THE DESERT, DANDAN-UILIQ . 281 RUINS OF BUDDHIST SHRINE, D. Il., AT DANDAN-UILIQ, BEFORE EXCAVATION 283 CELLA OF BUDDHIST SHRINE, D. II., AT DANDAN-UILIQ, AFTER EXCAVATION 285 FRESCO FROM OUTER WALL OF SHRINE, D. II., DANDAN-UILIQ 287 SMALLER CELLA OF BUDDHIST SHRINE, D. Il., AT DANDAN-UILIQ, AFTER EXCAVATION . 289 ROOM OF MONASTIC DWELLING, D. ITI., DANDAN-UILIQ, FIND-PLACE OF ANCIENT MANUSCRIPTS . , : - 295 LEAF OF BRAHMI MANUSCRIPT, IN NON-INDIAN LANGUAGE, FROM MONASTIC DWELLING, D. III. ; 298 _ OBVERSE OF PORTION OF LEAF, OF BUDDHIST TEXT IN SANSKRIT (VAJRACCHEDIKA), FROM D. III. 5 298 ANCIENT ‘TAKHTA’ FOR WRITING . y : , : . B10 CHINESE DOCUMENT (D. VII. 2), CONTAINING BOND, FROM DANDAN-UILIQ, DATED A.D. 782 , 316 CHINESE WOODEN TABLET, N. xy. 315 . 316 STREET IN SUBURB OF KERIYA a 334 HUANG-DALOI, AMBAN OF KERIYA . 5 335 VILLAGE BOYS AT NIYA : 343 TREES WITH EX-VOTOS, ON PATH TO IMAM JAFAR SADIK’S TOMB . . 348 RUINS OF ANCIENT DWELLING-HOUSE (N. UI.), WITH GARDEN : é 354 RUINED BUILDING (N. 1), FIRST FIND-PLACE OF INSCRIBED TABLETS, AFTER EXCAVATION . : N : : ; - ‘ . B56 KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENTS ON WOODEN TABLETS ; , : : 359 KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENT ON WOOD, UNDER-TABLET (N. IV. 139). . 4 366 ANCIENT WOODEN PEN, WITH BONE KNOB (FROM N. XV). . . : . 366
xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE REMAINS OF ANCIENT HOUSES, AT GROUP OF RUINS N. II. : ; ae ffi PORTION OF ANCIENT DWELLING-HOUSE (N. Il.), BEFORE EXCAVATION : . 373
NORTH WALL OF CENTRAL HALL OF ANCIENT DWELLING-HOUSE (N. III.), DURING
EXCAVATION . ; : : ; ; ; H aan ANCIENT WOODEN CHAIR, FROM RUINED DWELLING-HOUSE N. III. ; B76 ANCIENT HOUSEHOLD IMPLEMENTS, ETC., MAINLY FROM RUINED DWELLING N. Iv. . 378 PLAN OF ANCIENT DWELLING-HOUSE N. IV. 2 ; . \ . 880 CLAY IMPRESSIONS OF CLASSICAL SEALS, FROM KHAROSHTHI TABLETS : . 885 RUINED STUPA, AT ANCIENT SITE BEYOND IMAM JAFAR SADIK : ’ . 386
RUINED DWELLING-PLACE, CONTAINING ANCIENT RUBBISH HEAP (N. KV.) SEEN
FROM SOUTH-EAST — . ; : : : : , . 388 ANCIENT RUBBISH HEAP (N. XV.), IN COURSE OF EXCAVATION : : . 389 ANCIENT KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENT ON LEATHER (N. xv. 310) : : . 390 KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENT ON DOUBLE WOODEN TABLET (N. Xv. 137) . 892 DIAGRAMS OF WEDGE-SHAPED DOUBLE TABLET : : ba , . 393 COVERING TABLETS OF KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENTS ON woop (N. xv. 133, 167, 330), WITH SEALS : : 4 : : . B94 KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENT ON DOUBLE OBLONG TABLET (N. xv. 166) 4 . 395 SEAL-IMPRESSIONS IN CLAY, FROM KHAROSHTHI TABLETS .« é ; . 396 REMAINS OF ANCIENT TREES, NEAR SAND-BURIED DWELLING-PLACE N. VIII. . 398 ANCIENT KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENT ON LEATHER (N. Xv. 305) ; f . 401 RUINED BUILDINGS WITHIN ENDERE FORT . : ; : S . 409 INTERIOR OF RUINED TEMPLE CELLA, ENDERE, AFTER EXCAVATION 4 . 415
TWO LEAVES IN CENTRAL-ASIAN BRAHMI, FROM PAPER ROLL (E. I. 7), FOUND IN.
ENDERE TEMPLE : : : : * : ; . 416 HALF-LEAF OF TIBETAN MS.. ON PAPER, FROM ENDERE TEMPLE (E. I. 32) . 417 LOWER FLOOR ROOM OF RUINED DWELLING-PLACE, ENDERE FORT . ; . 421 INTERIOR OF RUINED QUADRANGLE, KARADONG K : : . 429 WOODEN GATEWAY OF RUINED QUADRANGLE, KARADONG, AFTER EXCAVATION . 432 BOYS AND GIRLS AT KERIYA, IN HOLIDAY DRESS : : : . 442 VILLAGE CHILDREN, KERIYA , nN f : : . 444 EXCAVATIONS PROCEEDING ALONG SOUTH-EAST WALL OF RAWAK STUPA COURT . 446 RAWAK STUPA, SEEN FROM SOUTH CORNER OF COURT : . 450
COLOSSAL STATUES WITH SEATED BUDDHA, IN SOUTH CORNER OF RAWAK STUPA
COURT, AFTER EXCAVATION : x ‘ : . 464
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
xlili
PAGE
RELIEVO STATUES OF RAWAK STUPA COURT, SOUTH-WEST WALL, AFTER EXCAVATION
RELIEVO SCULPTURES ON OUTER SOUTH-EAST WALL OF RAWAK STUPA COURT, IN COURSE OF EXCAVATION ; : :
“RELIEVO STATUE OF BODHISATTVA (R. IV.), ON SOUTH-WEST WALL, RAWAK STUPA COURT ; ; ; ; ; : : ; 3
COLOSSAL STATUES ON OUTER WALLS OF SOUTH CORNER OF RAWAK STUPA COURT.
TORSOS OF COLOSSAL STATUES ALONG INNER SOUTH-EAST WALL
TORSOS OF STATUES (DVARAPALAS) AT GATE OF RAWAK STUPA COURT : A
STUCCO HEAD OF SMALL BUDDHA OR BODHISATTVA, ORIGINALLY PAINTED, FROM RAWAK STUPA COURT . ; ; ; ; : ;
STUCCO HEAD OF SMALL BUDDHA OR BODHISATTVA, RETAINING ORIGINAL COLOURING, FROM RAWAK STUPA COURT ; 3 ' : i
ISLAM AKHUN ; ; ’ ;
IN A KHOTAN BAZAR ’ , é , : ; : ,
BADRUDDIN KHAN AND AFGHAN TRADER, KHOTAN
HALT ON THE MARCH DOWN THE GULCHA VALLEY, FARGHANA : , :
RAM SINGH AND JASVANT SINGH, WITH ‘ YOLCHI BEG,’ IN MR. MACARTNEY’S GARDEN, KASHGAR j A : : ;
IN THE BAZAR OF OSH, FARGHANA. | : ; : ; , ”
AT SAMARKAND: MARKET WITH RUINED MOSQUES IN BACKGROUND
KIRGHIZ FAMILY ON THE MARCH , . . .
456
. 458
459 461 462 463
. 464
467 472 482 485 490
494 497 500 502
Sand-buried Ruins
CHAPTER I
of Khotan
CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR
MOHAND MARG, KASHMIR.
Ir was from the Alpine plateau . of Mohand Marg, my beloved camping- ground for three Kashmir summers, that I had in June, 1898, submitted to the Indian Govern- ment the first scheme of the ex- plorations which were to take me across the great mountain barriers northward and into the distant deserts of Khotan. Almost two years had passed when I found myself,
early in May, 1900, again in Kashmir and within sight of
9
1
2 CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR [cHaP. I.
Mohand Marg. With a glow of satisfaction I could look up to the crest of the high spur, some 10,000 feet above the sea and still covered with snow, on which my tent had stood, and where my plans had been formed. It had taken two years, and bulky files of correspondence; but at last I had secured what was needed—freedom to move, and the means requisite for my journey.
In the meantime official duty, and minor archeological tours to which I devoted my vacations, had taken me over widely different parts of India. From Lahore, where during eleven long years, amidst the worries and cares of University office work, I had ever felt the refreshing touch of the true East and the fascination of a great historical past, I had been transferred to Calcutta. With its strangely un-Indian con- ditions of life, its want of breathing space, and its damp heat, the “city of palaces” appeared to me like a tropical suburb of London. From there I had visited Sikkim, that strange half-Tibetan mountain-land where true Alpine scenery is in- ‘aded by the luxuriant vegetation of the tropics. I had wandered in South Bihar, the ancient Magadha, tracing the footsteps of Hiuen-Tsiang, the great Chinese pilgrim, among the ruins of the sacred Buddhist sites which he had seen and described more than twelve hundred years ago. Also the fascinating tracts along the Indus and the North-West Frontier, where the influence of classical art has left its witnesses in the ancient ‘ Greco-Buddhist’ sculptures of so many a ruined monastery and shrine, had seen me once more on a flying visit.
The thought of the task which was drawing me beyond the Himalaya had followed me everywhere. But it was only when the final sanction for my proposals reached me on a sultry monsoon night down in Caleutta that I had been able to start some of the multifarious preparations which the journey de- manded. Busy as I was with official duties and literary work that had to be concluded before leaving India, I managed to
CHAP. I.] UP THE JHELAM VALLEY 3
arrange for the supply of many articles of equipment, both personal and scientific. The tents which I had ordered from the Cawnpore Elgin Mills; the galvanised iron water-tanks, made at Calcutta workshops, that were to serve in the desert ; the stores of condensed food, the photographic outfit, and the semi-arctic winter clothing which I had indented for from London—all were slowly moving up to Srinagar, whence my little expedition was to start.
But only in Kashmir itself, and not in over-civilised Calcutta, was it possible to complete my practical preparations. So I could not entirely suppress a feeling of unholy joy when an increase of plague, or rather the fear of it, caused Calcutta colleges to be closed some weeks in anticipation of the usual summer vacation. On the 10th of April I was free to escape northward. It was a source of satisfaction to me that on the day of my departure I was ‘able personally to take leave of the late Sir John Woodburn, Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, and to express my deep gratitude for all the kind help and interest with which he had furthered my undertaking.
The week I spent in Lahore in order to pick up various portions of my outfit and to supervise their despatch passed rapidly amid old friends and surroundings dear to me. After Calcutta the Punjab spring appeared still comparatively cool. All the same I enjoyed as keenly as ever the invigorating change to the fresh air of the hills when the Tonga carried me from Rawalpindi first to the fir-covered heights of Murree, and then along the Jhelam Valley up towards Kashmir. Often had I done this journey along the ancient Hydaspes, where it rushes down, towards the plains in an almost wnin-
terrupted succession of rapids and cataracts, but never so early in the year. Whether it was the sight and fragrance of the shrubs still in blossom along the road, or the glittering caps of snow still lying on many of the higher spurs, or simply the prospect of a year’s explorations, never had this drive of nearly two days appeared to me so enjoyable.
4 CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR [CHAP. I.
On the 25th of April I passed once more into the Kashmir Valley by the gorge of Baramula, now as in ancient days the “Western Gate of the Kingdom.’ The snow still lay low down the mighty Pir Pantsal range which forms the southern rampart between Kashmir and the outer world. But the great riverine plain which opens out just beyond Baramula was decked in all the gay colours of a Kashmir spring, blue and white irises growing in profusion over village cemeteries and
other waste spaces. At Baramula, where my servants, sent ahead with the heavy baggage, awaited me, I took to boats for the remaining journey to Srinagar; for old experience had shown me the convenience and attractions of river communi- cation in Kashmir. The day I spent gliding in my comfort- able ‘Dunga’ through the limpid water of the great lagoons which fringe the Volur Lake, and along the winding course of the Jhelam, gave delightful repose such as did not again fall to my share for many months. Familiar to me as are que loca fabulosus lambit Hydaspes, there was plenty to feast my eyes upon. The floating meadows of water-lilies and other aquatic plants which cover the marshes; the vivid foliage of the great Chinar trees which shade all hamlets and Ghats along the river banks; the brilliant snowfields on the Pir Pantsal, and the higher ranges to the north over which my road was soon to lead—these and all the other splendours of Kashmir spring scenery will never lose their charm for me.
During the second night the boat passed the winding reaches in which the river traverses Srinagar, and the next morning found me once more in the Chinar Bagh, my old camping-ground in the Kashmir capital. With the increasing crowd of European visitors from the Indian plains, the shady grove by the side of the ‘‘ Apple Tree Canal” has long ago ceased to be a place suited for work or even quiet enjoyment. But haunted as it is at all hours of the day by the versatile Kashmir traders and craftsmen who provide for the Sahibs’
camping requirements, it was just the place adapted for the
CHAP. I.] PREPARATIONS IN KASHMIR Cap
purpose of my first stay at Srinagar. There were plenty of orders to give for mule trunks and leather-covered baskets or ‘ Kiltas,’ in which stores, instruments, &c., were to be packed. Fur coats and warm winter clothing of all sorts had to be provided to protect myself and my followers against the cold of the Pamirs and the Turkestan winter; bags to carry provisions, and all the other paraphernalia which my previous experience showed to be necessary for a protracted campaign in the mountains. Clever and intelligent as the Kashmir craftsman ordinarily is, it requires protracted interviews to ensure that the work he is going to execute is really that intended. So what with endless particulars to be explained, and all the bargaining which local custom renders indispen- sable, there remained little time during these busy days to collect information on the important questions affecting the first part of my journey.
The Government of India in the Foreign Department had granted me permission to use the Gilgit-Hunza route for my journey to Kashgar. The special conditions prevailing along the ‘‘Gilgit Transport Road’ made it necessary to give timely and exact intimation as to the amount of transport re- quired, the number of followers, &c., all the more as the time I had fixed for my start, the end of May, was in advance of the regular transport season. Luckily, Captain G. H. Bretherton, p.s.0., Assistant Commissary-General for Kashmir, to whom I had to apply in the matter of these arrangements, proved exceptionally able and willing to afford information. Guided by his experience, I was soon in a position to prepare with fair accuracy my estimates as to the time, means of transport, and supplies needed not only up to Hunza, but also beyond towards the Chinese frontier. It was no small advantage to obtain quickly a clear working plan of these practical details. For upon the exact information which I could send ahead to Gilgit and Kashgar depended my hope of securing, without loss of time, all that was needful for the onward journey.
6 CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR [CHAP> I.
I was heartily glad when I succeeded within five busy days in disposing of these preliminaries. The few weeks which remained to me in Kashmir were none too long for the literary tasks that had to be completed before my departure. For over ten years past I had devoted whatever leisure I could spare from official duties to work connected in one form or another with Kalhana’s ‘‘ Chronicle of the Kings of Kashmir.” The Sanskrit text of the great poem, the only record of a truly historical nature that exists in the classical literature of India, and one full of interest for the student of Indian antiquities, religion, geography, &c., had long ago been edited by me. But my translation and commentary required protracted researches into all that has survived of ancient Kashmir in records, traditions, and antiquarian lore, and the two stout quarto volumes which they filled in print were only now approaching completion. The introduction which was to give an account of these labours still remained to be written, and in order to complete it in time, together with some minor tasks of a similar kind, seclusion was indis- pensable.
“To go into Purdah,’’ as our Lahore phrase ran, within Srinagar or its immediate environs, was well-nigh impossible, and Mohand Marg, my mountain retreat of former seasons, was still covered with snow. My knowledge of Kashmir topography, however, stood me in good stead, and after a short search at the debouchure of the great Sind Valley over which Mohand Marg rises, I found near the hamlet of Dudarhom a delightfully quiet grove by the river-bank where I could pitch my tents. There under the shade of majestic Chinars and within view of the snow-covered spurs of Mount Haramukh, I was soon hard at work from morning till evening. It was not an easy task to sum up and review the results of labours that had extended over so long a period and over so wide a field. Yet I felt grateful that I was able to bid farewell to them, while having that Alpine scenery before my eyes with
CHAP. I. ] CAMP ON SIND RIVER 7
which I shall ever associate the happiest recollections of my Kashmir researches. But still more cheering, perhaps, was the thought of the new field of exploration that awaited me northward, far beyond the ranges I had viewed from my ‘Marg.’ Undisturbed by intrusion of any kind, these three short weeks afforded leisure for concentrated work which, after the preceding ‘“‘rush,’’ seemed almost as enjoyable as if it had been a period of rest.
On the 23rd of May I completed the last of the tasks for the sake of which I had retired to my peaceful camping-ground. The date fixed for my start was drawing near, and with it came the necessity for returning to bustling Srinagar for the last preparations. Thanks to the convenient water-way pro- vided by the Anchar Lake and the ancient Mar Canal, a single night passed in boats sufficed to bring me into the Kashmir capital. I found the grounds usually occupied by European visitors more crowded than I had ever seen them. Lines of house-boats along the river-banks and endless rows of tents in all the ‘Baghs’ seemed to leave no room for a new arrival. Fortunately, in years gone by I had had ample occasion to study the topography of Srinagar, in its modern as well as its ancient aspects, and thus I discovered at last a spot for my camp, on the narrow strip of ground which lines the west foot of the Takht-i-Sulaiman hill towards the Dal Lake. Hidden behind willow plantations and “floating gardens”’ peculiar to the lake, the little Bagh of Buchvor offered the needed quiet to complete my arrangements.
Busy indeed were the days I passed there. All details of the camp outfit had to be revised; the freshly arrived stores to be sorted and packed into loads for pony transport ; survey- ing and other instruments to be tested and protected against damage ; and amid these preparations there were accounts to be settled and farewell visits to be received. Numerous were the questions of my Pandit friends which I had to answer as to the place and object of my journey. More conversant
8 CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR [CHAP. I.
though they are with mythical than with real geography, yet I found that my reference to the ‘ Uttarakurus’ (the Ultima Thule of Indian mythology) as the land for which IT was about to set out, did not altogether satisfy their curiosity.
Ram Singh, the Gurkha Sub-Surveyor, whose services Colonel St. George Gore, R.#., the Surveyor-General of India, had very kindly placed at my disposal, together with a com- plete outfit of surveying instruments, joined me punctually on the day of my arrival at Srinagar. He had accompanied Captain Deasy in his recent travels near the sources of the Yarkand River and in the Kuen-luen mountains, and the practical acquaintance he had thus gained of the regions I was about to visit-proved useful at once in the course of my pre- parations. With Ram Singh came Jasvant Singh, a wiry little Kangra Rajput, who was to attend to the Sub-Surveyor as cook and personal servant. He too had travelled in Chinese Turkestan as one of Captain Deasy’s followers.
On the 28th of May there arrived Sadak Akhun, the Turkestan servant whom Mr. George Macartney, ¢.1.6., the British representative at Kashgar, had been kind enough to engage for me. He had left his home in the first half of April and came just in time to start back with me. He was to act as cook and ‘ Karawan-bashi’ combined, and was welcomed with no small satisfaction by honest Mirza Alim, my Kokandi servant, whom I had engaged four months earlier in Peshawar for the purpose of my journey. ‘Mirza’ had been useful to me by giving me the needed opportunity of practising Turki conversation, but willing as he was to pick up the novel art of attending to the wants of a ‘Sahib,’ his acquirements did not reach far in regard to the kitchen depart- ment. His earlier career as a petty trader in Kabul and Peshawar had not been a special preparation for these func- tions ; and yet his straightforward ways made me anxious to retain him. Sadak Akhun’s timely arrival relieved both him
cHAP. 1] START FROM SRINAGAR 9
and his master of all uneasiness as to the future arrange- ments of the travelling household. For Sadak Akhun had brought with him not only the appearance of a smart ‘ Karawan-bashi,’ but a training in the mysteries of European cuisine amply sufficient for my wants. When he turned up in his fur-lined cap and coat of unstained azure, and red leather top-boots of imposing size, my camp seemed to receive at once a touch of Central-Asian colour.
But it was not only from the Far North that I was anxiously expecting during these days a much-needed com- plement of my camp. Knowing that no European traveller in the parts I was bound for could wholly refuse the rédle of the ‘Hakim’ forced upon him by popular belief, I had early ordered my medicine case from Messrs. Burroughs Wellcome & Co., the great London firm of ‘ Tabloid’’ fame. The South African- War and other incidents delayed its arrival for months, and even when it had at last been reported by telegram as landed at- Calcutta, it seemed doubtful whether it would reach me in time. The Indian Post Office does indeed provide with its usual efficiency for the wants of the distant frontier post of Gilgit. But its power cannot level mountains, and as the transport of heavy articles across the snow-covered passes was not to begin till later in the season, there seemed little chance of that eagerly looked-for case ever catching me up if not received before my start from Srinagar.
Fortune seemed to offer a small mark of favour at least in this direction. For when, on the evening of the 29th of May, the time of departure fixed weeks before, my little flotilla of boats was lying opposite to the Srinagar Post Office, worthy Lala Mangu Mal, the attentive postmaster, triumphantly reported the arrival of the box. When it was at last safely deposited in my hands it was time to set out from the Venice of India. Gliding-down the dark river under the seven bridges which have spanned it since early times, and between the
10 CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR (CHAP. I.
massive embankments built with the slabs of ruined temples, I could not fail to be impressed with—
quod mihi supremum tempus in Urbe fit.
It was midnight before I had seen the last of my old Pandit friends, who were waiting each at the Ghat nearest to his home to bid me farewell.
ANCIENT TEMPLE AT PANDRENTHAN, KASHMIR.
CHAPTER IL TO ASTOR AND GILGIT
WueEn I awoke in_ the
morning my boat had just entered the lagoons which fringe on the east the great Volur Lake. A look towards the mountain range which rises above it on the north showed that the heavy rain of the last few days meant fresh snow on the passes I had to cross. Bandipur village, which forms as it were the port for the route connecting Kashmir with Gilgit and the regions beyond, was soon reached. It appeared as I had seen it in 1889 on my march to Skardo, pre-eminently a place
VIEW IN BURZIL VALLEY.
differtum nautis cauponibus atque malignis. 1
12 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [oHAP. 11.
But as regards transport arrangements it was easy to realise -a marked change. Since an Imperial garrison was placed in Gilgit and the new “ Gilgit Transport Road”’ was constructed, the Indian Commissariat Department has taken charge of the means of transport on this route. Timely arrangements had been made on my behalf by Captaim Bretherton, and a reference to the warrant officer on the spot brought the quick assurance that ponies and coolies would be available , whenever wanted. The time when the intending traveller on this route had to press his transport as best he could has passed, let us hope, for ever. If restrictions have to be placed on the number of private visitors in the interest of the commissariat work on which the supplies of the Gilgit garrison depend, the disadvantage is amply compensated by the benefit to the Valley at large. There was a time, still vividly remem- bered, when the demand for coolies to carry military baggage or supplies moving to Gilgit would spread terror through Kashmir villages. Of the thousands of cultivators used annually for this corvée, a large proportion never saw their country again ; for, ill-fed and still worse clad, the ‘ Begaris ’ succumbed only too readily to the inclemency of climatic conditions or the epidemics favoured by them. All this has changed since Imperial advice and control has made itself felt in Kashmir, and the construction of the new Gilgit road, fit throughout for laden animals, including camels, during three summer months, has rendered the use of human labour altogether superfluous.
On the morning of the 31st of May sixteen ponies were ready to receive the loads which were made up by our tents, stores, instruments, &c. Formidable as this number appeared to me, accustomed as I was to move lightly on my wanderings in and about Kashmir, I had the satisfaction to know that my personal baggage formed the smallest part of these impedi- menta. When the string of animals had filed off together with the Sub-Surveyor and servants, there were yet imposing
CHAP. II] OVER THE TRAGBAL PASS 13
indents to sign and bills to pay which the obliging Com- missariat Conductor kept ready for me under a group of fine Chinars by the roadside where on sunny days he transacts the business of his office. No transport can move up the road without his permission, and though the procedure he superin- tends is modern in its ways, yet it seemed to me as if this modest British official had simply taken the place of those “Masters of the Gates’? who used in ancient Kashmir to guard all routes leading into the valley.
The road, after leaving the straggling line of wooden huts which form the Bazar of Bandipur, leads for about four miles up the open valley of the Madhumati stream. In the irrigated fields the fresh green of the young rice-shoots was just appearing, while the hamlets on either side were half hidden under the rich foliage of their Chinars and walnut- trees. It was the typical spring scenery of Kashmir to which I here bade farewell. Near the village of Matargom the road turns to the north to ascend in long zigzags the range which forms the watershed between Kashmir and the valley of the Kishanganga. From the spur up which the
,road winds I had a splendid view of the Volur Lake and the snow-covered mountains to the east which encircle the hoary Haramukh Peaks. At a height of about 9,000 feet a fine forest of pines covers the spur and encloses a narrow glade known as Tragbal. Here the snow had just disappeared, and I found the damp ground strewn with the first carpet of Alpine flowers.
A rude wooden rest-house begrimed with smoke and mould gave shelter for the night, doubly welcome, as a storm broke soon after it got dark. The storm brought fresh snow, and as this was sure to make the crossing of the pass above more difficult I started before daybreak on the Ist of June. A steep ascent of some two thousand feet leads to the open ridge which the road follows for several miles. Exposed as this ridge is to all the winds, I was not surprised to find it stili covered
14 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. II.
with deep snowdrifts, below which all trace of the road dis- appeared. Heavy clouds hung around, and keeping off the rays of the sun let the snow remain fairly hard. Soon, how- ever, it began to snow, and the icy wind which swept the ridge made me and my men. push eagerly forward to the shelter offered by a Dak runners’ hut. The storm cleared before long, but it sufficed to show how well deserved is the bad repute which the Tragbal (11,900 feet above the sea) enjoys among Kashmirian passes.
For the descent from the pass I was induced by the ‘Markobans’ owning the ponies to utilise the winter route which leads steeply down into a narrow snow-filled nullah. Though the ponies slid a good deal in the soft snow of the slope, we did not encounter much difficulty until we got to the bottom of the gorge. Here the snow bridges over the stream which flows from this valley towards the Kishanganga had begun to give way, and the high banks of snow on either side were in many places uncomfortably narrow. At last our progress was stopped at a point where the stream had washed away the whole of the snow vault. To take the laden animals along the slatey and precipitous side of the gorge, which was free from snow, proved impracticable. To return to the top of the gorge, and thence follow the proper road which descends in long zigzags along a side spur, would have cost hours. So the council of my ‘ Markobans,’ hardy hill- men, half Kashmiri, half Dard, decided to try the narrow ledge of snow which remained standing on the right bank of the stream. The first animal, though held and supported by three men, slipped and rolled into the stream, and with it Sadak Akhun, who vainly attempted to stem its fall. Fortu- nately neither man nor pony got hurt, and as the load was also picked out of the water the attempt was resumed with additional care. Making a kind of path with stones placed at the worst points, we managed to get the animals across one by one. But it was not without considerable anxiety for
CHAP. II.] AMONG THE DARDS 15
my boxes, with survey instruments and similar contents, that I watched the operation. Heavy rain was falling at the time, and when at last we had all the ponies once more on a safe snow-bridge, men and animals were alike soaked. By one o'clock I reached the Gorai rest-house, down to which the- valley was covered with snow, having taken nearly seven hours to cover the eleven miles of the march.
The little rest-house, looking doubly bleak in the drizzling rain, held already three ‘ Sahibs,’ officers who were returning from their shooting nullahs to Kashmir and the plains. Refreshed by their hospitality, I decided to push on to the next stage, Gurez, where better shelter and supplies were available. The offer of some Bakhshish, and the hope of a dry and comparatively warm corner for the night, overcame the remonstrances of the ‘ Markobans,’ and the little caravan moved on. Some four miles lower down I reached the main valley of the Kishanganga, and in it the first Dard village. Another ten miles’ march up the valley brought me to Gurez, a collection of villages at a point where the valley widens to a little plain, about a mile broad.
Sombre and forbidding the valley looked between its high pine-covered mountains and under a dark, rainy sky. The effect was heightened by the miserable appearance of the rude log-built dwellings scattered here and there along the slopes, and by the dark-coloured sand in the bed of the river. The latter bears, not without good reason, the name of the “Black Ganga” (in Sanskrit, Krishnaganga). The back- ward state of the vegetation showed that spring had only just commenced in the valley, which here has an elevation of about 8,000 feet above the sea. With its short summer and scanty sunshine it can raise but poor crops of barley and “Trumba,’ and the population is accordingly thin.
The mountain range towards Kashmir marks also a well- defined ethnographic boundary. The Dard race, which inhabits the valleys north of it as far as the Hindukush,
16 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [oHAP., II.
is separated rom the Kashmiri population by language as well as by physical characteristics. The relation between the language of the Dards and the other Indo-Aryan ver- naculars of North-Western India is by no means clearly estab- lished. But whatever the linguistic and ethnic affinities of the Dard race may be, it is certain that it has held these valleys since the earliest time to which our historical know- ledge can reach back. Herodotus had heard of them in the same region they now inhabit; for he mentions the gold- washing operations still carried on by them within modest limits on the Indus and the Kishanganga. There is little in the Dard to enlist the sympathies of the casual observer. He lacks the intelligence, humour, and fine physique of the Kashmiri, and though undoubtedly far braver than the latter, has none of the independent spirit and martial bearing which draws us towards the Pathan, despite all his failings. But 1 can never see a Dard without thinking of the thousands of years of struggle these tribes have carried on with the harsh climate and the barren soil of their mountains. They, like the Afridis, who also are mentioned by the Father of History, have seen all the great conquests which swept over the North-West of India, and have survived them, unmoved as their mountains.
Gurez was once the chief place of a little Dard kingdom which often harassed the rulers of old Kashmir. But I confess, when I approached it at the close of my fatiguing double march, this antiquarian fact interested me less than the comfortable shelter which I found for my men and myself in Mr. Mitchell’s new bungalow.
The following day. was a halt, for my people needed rest and my baggage drying. There were besides fresh arrange- ments to be made for the transport ahead. In Srinagar I had been told officially that the Burzil Pass, which had to be crossed between Gurez and Astor, would, owing to the deep snow, be open only for coolie transport. However, from the
CHAP. II. ] IN THE BURZIL VALLEY 17
parties of Dards whom I met on the road, and who had brought their unladen ponies safely across from Astor, I gathered better news. As the use of coolies meant a complete re- arrangement of the loads, and still more trouble for the scanty population of the valley, which had already been. obliged to furnish a hundred carriers for a survey party ahead of me, I decided to take ponies. These were easily forthcoming, and on the morning of the 8rd of June I set out from Gurez much as [had reached it, except that the more delicate instruments, like theodolite and photographic cameras, were entrusted to the safer backs of coolies.
The weather had cleared at last, and the march from Gurez up the side valley of the stream which comes from the Burzil was most enjoyable. To the south there was the view of the fine snow-covered mountains which divide the Kishanganga Valley from Kashmir, while along the route leading north- wards the slopes of the valley refreshed the eye with their rich green of Alpine meadows and pine forests. Of avalanches which had swept down on the road there were many to cross. But the task of taking the ponies over them was trifling after the Tragbal experiences. I halted for the night at Pushwari, and next morning continued the march in the same direction and amidst similar scenery up to Minimarg.
There, at an altitude of nearly 10,000 feet above the sea, the valley widens to a little plain with plenty of grazing and a little collection of huts used by Gujar cattleherds for their summer quarters. The snow had melted here about ten days before, and the meadow land was already covered with young shoots of grass and a variety of hardy Alpine flowers, mostly old acquaintances from my beloved Kashmir ‘ Marg.’ But a glance at the telegraph office placed here to keep watch over the line across the pass was sufficient to show the rigour of the winter season. Raised high above the ground, and enclosed with heavy palisaded verandahs and sheds, the build-
ing looked more like a small fort than an office. These 3
18 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. II.
precautions are, indeed, necessary in order to make the place inhabitable during the long winters with their heavy snowfall.
At Minimarg the route to the Burzil strikes off to the north- west, and ascending the valley some five miles higher L reached the rest-house at the foot of the pass. The snow began to cover the ground soon after Minimarg was left behind, and at the foot of the pass it was a true winter scenery which met the eye. The sky was of a dazzling blue, and so clear that I felt quite reassured as to the result of taking my laden ponies across the pass.
The only condition to be observed was an early ascent before the snow should become soft. I therefore got up at one o’clock, and an hour later my caravan was plodding up the snow-filled ravine which forms the winter route to the pass. Of the road no trace could be seen. After two hours’ steady ascent we arrived at the point where the Burzil defile is met from the north-east by another pass leading down from the high plateau of the Deosai. <A telegraph shelter-hut raised on a wooden scaffolding some thirty feet high serves as a suiding-post to the parties of Dak runners who are obliged to carry the Gilgit mail during the winter. The structure was even now some 10 feet deepin the snow. Fortunately the tem- perature was so low that the hard snow offered comparatively good going to the animals. By the time that the first rays of the sun swept across the higher ranges to the east, we had gained safely the summit of the pass, 13,500 feet above the sea. The six miles from the rest-house had taken over three hours. There was no distant view from the pass, which lies between winding spurs, but the glittering snowfields all around, covered with a spotless crust of fresh ice, were a sight not to be for- gotten. The temperature was only 35° F. when I took a hurried breakfast under the shelter of the Dak hut.
The descent on the north side was long and tiring. The snow lay for some eight miles from the top of the pass, and as the morning advanced the going necessarily became heavier.
CHAP. I. ] CROSSING OF BURZIL PASS Lo
‘The only living beings that inhabit this Arctic waste are big marmots. Sitting on the top of their burrows as if to warm themselves in the sun, they did their best to attract attention by shrill whistling, only to disappear with lightning speed at the approach of danger. It took some time before my little fox-terrier realised this, and refrained from spending his breath in vain attempts to rush the provoking animals. ‘Dash,’ or ‘ Yolchi Beg’ (‘Sir Traveller’’), as he had been renamed since I took to Turki with Mirza, proved true to his name. He marched as cheerily over the miles of snow as on earlier wanderings through the dusty diy Punjab plains or in the dripping jungle of Sikkim. My Turki servants soon grew fond of ‘ Yolchi Beg,’ and, being untrammelled by the caste conventions of India, never hesitated to show their affection for my faithful companion.
It was one o’clock when I arrived at Chillum Chauki, the first rest-house on the Astor side of the pass, having left the snow behind about two miles before. All the ponies came in safely except one, the absence of which was soon noticed when I was looking out for breakfast. The pony carrying the kitchen ‘ Kiltas’ had lagged behind, and I became painfully aware that something had gone wrong when hour after hour passed in vain expectation. My Surveyor, who had marched in the rear, brought news of the animal having broken down in the softening snow, and though I at once despatched coolies to its assistance it was not till after six in the evening that Mirza turned up with his charge. As if to console me for the delay in bodily comforts I got in the evening the cheerful news of the occupation of Pretoria from Mr. M., the road engineer, who arrived at the rest-house from a shooting excursion. News travels fast along the telegraph line, and although there is, apart from the Political Agent at Gilgit, no subscriber to Reuter’s messages this side of the Burzil, tele- graph masters in Astor and their friends were evidently well informed of what was happening far away in South Africa.
20 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. II,
The set of ponies which I had brought from Gurez, and which were the first laden animals that crossed the Burzil this year, were relieved at Chillum Chauki by fresh ones sent up for me from Astor. My march on the 6th of June, down the valley leading to Astor, was recreation after the previous one. Notwithstanding the brilliant colour imparted to the scenery by a blue sky, glittering bands of snow in the ravines, and the green tossing stream at the bottom of the valley, it was easy to realise that the crossing of the water- shed between the drainage areas of the Jhelam and Indus meant the entry into a sterner region. The hillsides were no longer clothed with verdure as in Kashmir and the Kishan- ganga Valley. On the slopes of bare decomposed rock cedars and a kind of juniper showed themselves only in scanty patches. Cultivation lower down also bore evidence of the unfavourable conditions of soil and climate. All the more cheerful it was to behold, by the side of the little terraced fields of more than one hamlet, an oblong sward carefully marked off with stones—the polo ground of the villagers. Polo is the national game of all Dard tribes; and that even the inhabitants of these poor mountain hamlets make a sacrifice of valuable soil for its sake attests their devotion to this manly pastime.
At Gadhoi, where a march of about seventeen miles brought me, it was already distinctly warmer than I had felt it since leaving Kashmir, though the aneroid still indicated an elevation of about 9,000 feet. On the 7th of June I con- tinued my journey to Astor, the chief place of the hill district, to which from early times it has given its name. Some miles below Gadhoi there showed themselves above the bare rocky mountains along the valley the icy crests of the great mass of peaks culminating in Nanga Parbat. That giant of mountains (26,600 feet above the sea), the ice-clad pyramid of which I had so often admired from Kashmir Margs, and even from above Murree itself, remained hidden
CHAP, II. ] THE ASTOR CAPITAL 21
behind lower ranges, though only about ten miles away, as the crow flies. Yet even its bodyguard of minor peaks, ranging between 18,000 and 28,000 feet, was a sufficiently inspiriting sight.
I felt the need of looking up to their glacier walls ; for down on the road it got warmer and warmer. From Gurikot onwards where the two branches of the Astor River unite, the road, dusty and hot, winds up the steep scarp on the left side of the valley until at last the group of villages known as Astor came in sight spread out over a mighty alluvial fan. The view that opened here was striking in its ruggedness. For a wall of rocky ridges seems to close the valley to the north, while the deep ravines cut by the mountain torrents into the alluvial plateaus on either side give them a look of fantastic diversity.
T reached at 3 p.m. the bungalow of Astor, situated on a dominating point of the plateau, and felt heartily glad of its shade and coolness. Below me lay the Fort of the Sikhs, now used for the accommodation of a battery of Kashmir Imperial Service troops, while on the south there stretched the orchards and fields of the Astor ‘ capital.” The Rajas of Astor have become ‘‘ mediatised’’ since the advent of the Sikhs, and their power, such as it was, is now wielded by a modest Tahsildar of the Kashmir administration. Generosity was not a fault of Sikh rule in these mountain regions, and the deposed family of hill chiefs have little left to support the pride of their ancient lineage.
Though Astor les about 7,700 feet above the sea, the air would have been decidedly oppressive but for a storm which in the evening swept over the valley. It left plenty of clouds behind to screen the sun on the next morning (June 8th) when IT resumed the march down towards the Indus. The valley became bleaker and bleaker as the route descended, and the streaks of red, yellow, and grey displayed by the rocky hillsides offered poor compensation for the absence of vegetation. Of
22 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. II.
flowering shrubs only a kind of wild rose seems to thrive on the barren soil, and being just in full bloom caught the eye by its purple patches. A few green fields perched on the top of small alluvial fans were all the cultivation visible on the fif- teen miles’ march to Dashkin village, the first stage from Astor.
As I had heard of the arrival at the next stage, Duyan, of Captain J. Manners Smith, whom I was anxious to meet, I decided to push on. The slow rate of progress made by the baggage animals confirmed the objections which my pony-men had raised. But otherwise this extra march of twelve miles proved a pleasant surprise. The road, rising gradually to about 5,000 feet above the tossing river, took me through a charming forest of pines, which in the shadows of the setting sun looked its best. This forest evidently owes its growth to its sheltered position on the north-east flank of a great ridge, which on its top was still covered with snow. It was a
pleasure to behold once more green moss and ferns along the little streams which rush down through the forest. But when this was left behind at the turning of a cross-spur there spread a grander view before me.
Through the gap between the mountains enclosing the Astor Valley there appeared the broad stream of the Indus and beyond it range after range towards the north. Thin clouds hung over the more distant ranges, yet I thought I could recognise rising above the fleecy mist the icy mass of Mount Rakiposhi. Father Indus was greeted by me like an old friend. I had seen the mighty river at more than one notable point of its course, where it breaks through the rocky gorges of Baltistan, where it bursts forth into the Yusufzai plain, and in its swift rush through the defiles below Attock. But nowhere had it impressed me more than when I now suddenly caught sight of it amidst these towering mountain walls. The shadows of evening fell quickly in its deep-cut valley and the glittering vision of the river had vanished when, somewhat tired, I reached the end of my double march.
CHAP. I1.] HALT AT DUYAN 23
My stay at Duyan was prolonged in the pleasantest manner. Early on the morning of June 9 Captain J. Manners Smith, VC., o.1.u., the Political Agent of Gilgit and the adjacent hill tracts, on his return from a shooting excursion, came to see me and kindly invited me to spend the day in his camp. I was most glad to accept the hospitality of the distinguished officer, then acting as ‘‘ Warden of the Marches’’ for the mountain region I was about to traverse; and after despatching my party ahead, soon found myself riding on one of his hill ponies up to the mountain-side occupied by his tents. It was a charming spot on a little shoulder of the fir-covered slope, some 1,500 feet above the road, where the ground was car- peted with wild violets, forget-me-nots, and other mountain flowers, and where a bright little stream added to the attrac- tions of the scene. Picturesque, indeed, it was with the well-fitted hill tents of the Political Agent and the motley crowd of his followers hailing from all parts of Gilgit, Chilas, and Hunza.
In the amiable society of my host and Mrs. Manners Smith I passed a day which I shall long remember for its varied enjoyments. Anglo-Indian ladies know how to carry true refinement into camp life even at the most distant points of the Empire, and here Nature had surrounded the tasteful comforts of a well-arranged camp with special glamour. The hours I spent at this delightful spot fled only too fast. Captain Manners Smith, who has been connected with the political administration of this region for the last twelve years, and whose Victoria Cross was earned at one of the most striking incidents of its modern history, the storming of the Hunza fastness beyond Nilth, knows these mountains and their races better probably than any European.
What added to the interest of his varied communications about the old customs and traditions of the people was the illus- tration which his remarks received from the hillmen attending his camp. The petty headmen from the valleys towards
24 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. II.
Chilas and from Punyal furnished me with more than one curious fact bearing on the earlier social and religious con- dition of the tract. Muhammadanism is a comparatively recent growth here, and the traditions as to former worship and rites have survived in many a valley. One grey-bearded village headman from Gor in particular seemed full of old- world lore. He had investigated the relics of an old burial- place near his home, where the burnt bodies of his ancestors in pre-Muhammadan times used to be deposited, and was not shy about relating the drastic punishment which as a boy he had received from his mother when disturbing the spot. In these mountains, as elsewhere throughout the world, it is the women-folk who act as the best guardians of all old lore and tradition.
The close contact with the Far West into which modern political conditions have brought these once secluded valleys was illustrated by the fact that I could read at Captain Manners Smith’s table the latest Reuter telegrams just as if it had been in the Club at Lahore. But the presence in camp of my host’s pretty little children offered an even more con- vincing indication how far European influence has penetrated across the mountains. Bright and rosy-cheeked, they were worthy representatives of the British Baby which in the borderlands of India has always appeared to me as the true pioneer of civilization. I have come across it in many a strange place, and its manifest happiness amongst surround- ings which often seemed incongruous with the idea of a nursery has ever foreed me to admiration. The British Baby has never been slow to follow the advance of British arms in India. Occasionally it has come early enough to see some fighting: witness Fort Lockhart and the Malakand. But on the whole its appearance on the scene marks the establishment of the pax britannica, and for this mission of peace and security it well deserves that thriving condition which it usually enjoys in the mountains around Kashmir.
CHAP. I1.] DOWN TO THE INDUS 25
For afternoon tea my hosts took me to a pretty ‘Marg’ on the top of the ridge above their camp. From this height the Indus Valley, in its barrenness of rock and sand, could be seen descending far away towards Chilas and Darel. The day will come when this natural route to the Indian plains will be open again as it was in old times. Then the last bit of terra incognita along the Indus, which now extends from Chilas down to Amb, will be accessible, while the diffi- culties inseparable from a line of transport crossing the great barriers of the Kashmir ranges will no longer have to be faced.
On the morning of the 10th of June I took leave of my kind hosts and hurried down towards Bunji to catch up my camp. As I descended the defile of the Astor River, where the road leads along precipitous cliffs and past shingly ravines, the heat rose in a marked degree. I could well realise what the terrors of this part of the route, known as Hatu Pir, abso- lutely waterless and exposed to the full force of the sun, must have been for the Kashmiri coolies of old days. On the eleven miles which brought me down to the level of the ‘Indus close to the point where the Astor River joins it, I did not meet with a single traveller. Equally desolate was the ride from Ramghat, where the road crosses the Astor River, to Bunji, some eight miles higher up on the Indus. The broad rocky plain which stretches from the bank of the ereat river to the foot of the mountains showed scarcely a trace of vegetation. The radiation of the sun’s rays was intense, and I was glad to reach by one p.m. the shelter of the Bunji Bungalow. The neighbouring fort is still held by some detachments of Kashmir troops, though the ferry over the Indus which it once guarded has become disused since the construction of the new road. During the hot hours I spent at Bunji there was little to tempt me outside. A hazy atmosphere hung over the valley and deprived me of the hoped-for view of Nangaparbat, which, rising fully 22,000
26 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. Il.
feet above the level of the Indus, dominates the whole scenery in clear weather. A strong wind blowing down the valley carried the fine sand of the river-bed even into the closed rooms. Bunji altogether seemed by no means a desirable place to spend’ much time in, and strongly reminded me of the hot days I had once passed in the low hills of Jammu territory.
Fodder is practically not to be got at Bunji, and this accounts for the difficulty I found in procuring a pony that was to take me in the evening to the next stage where my baggage had marched ahead. At last the local Tahsildar had to lend me his mount, but it was already evening before I could set out. <A lonely ride across a sandy plain brought me to the imposing suspension bridge which spans the Indus, just as it was getting dark. In the dim light of the moon which was then emerging for a time from the clouds the deep, rock- bound gorge of the river looked quite fantastic. And so did the rugged mountains further east through which the Gilgit River comes down to meet the Indus. To ride along the face of the rocky spur which rises in the angle of the two rivers was slow work in the scanty light of a fitful moon, and by the time I had turned fully into the Gilgit Valley and reached safer ground, rain came on and brought complete darkness. Mile after mile passed without my coming upon the longed-for rest-house where I could rejoin my camp. At last it became clear that I must have passed it by, and I had. only the choice of continuing my ride straight into Gilgit or returning to search for the missed bungalow. Dark as it was I preferred the latter course, and ultimately discovered a side path which brought me to the expected shelter fully half a mile away from the main road. It was close on midnight when I sat down to the dinner which my servants had duly kept ready for me, though it had never struck them that I might require a light to show me the way to it.
Pari, where I spent what remained of the night, proved in
CHAP. II. ] AT THE GILGIT AGENCY 27
the morning a desolate spot by the sandy bank of the river, enclosed by an amphitheatre of bare reddish-brown mountains. The scenery remained the same for the next nine miles or so until after rounding one of the countless spurs along which the road winds the open part of the great Gilgit Valley came into view. Minaur is the first village where cultivated ground is again reached, and thereafter every alluvial fan on the left bank was green with carefully terraced and irrigated fields. A
few miles further on the valley of the Hunza River opens
from the north, and beyond it stretches the collection ot hamlets to which the name Gilgit properly applies. It was a cheerful sight to view this expanse of fertile fields and orchards from the height of an old moraine issuing from a side valley. While riding through it Iwas met by a note from Captain H. Burden, t.m.s., the Agency Surgeon, offering me that hospitable reception for which Captain Manners Smith's kindness had prepared me.
I soon was installed in a comfortable set of rooms, and realised that for my stay at Gilgit I was to be the guest of the officers remaining at the headquarters of the Agency. Small as their number was I found among them most attractive and congenial company. Each of them, whether in charge of the Kashmir Imperial Service troops supplying the local garrisons, or of the Commissariat, the Public Works, or the hospitals of Gilgit, showed plainly that he knew and liked.these hills. For each the semi-independence secured by the arrangements of an out-lying frontier tract under “ political ’? management had been a source of increased activity and consequent experience in his own sphere. That the political interests which necessitated the garrisoning of Gilgit with Imperial officers
and troops have benefited this region in more ways than one
was apparent from a stroll through the little ‘‘ station.” I found there a well-built hospital, neat offices for the various departments of the administration, a clean and airy bazar, and even substantial buildings for a school and a zenana
28 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. Il.
hospital. Small but comfortable bungalows have been built for the European officers on the terraced slopes overlooking the valley, and in their midst there has quite recently risen even a substantial club with an excellent though necessarily select library. It is only some eleven years since the new era set in for Gilgit, and yet it is already difficult to trace the conditions which preceded it. The fort, built of rubble with a wooden framework, after the usual Sikh fashion, alone reminds one of the days when Gilgit was the prey of an ill-paid and badly disciplined soldiery, when years of unabated exactions had laid great parts of the cultivable land waste and driven the now peaceful Dards into violent rebellions.
I had originally intended to stop only one day at Gilgit in order. to give my men a much-needed rest and to effect some repairs in the equipment. But difficulty arose about getting fresh transport for the march to Hunza, and my stay was of necessity extended to three days. Ample work and the amiable attention of my hosts scarcely allowed me to notice the delay. Though all Government transport was occupied in out-lying camps, and the local ponies were grazing far away in distant nullahs, Captain E. A. R. Howell, the energetic Commissariat Officer, provided by the third day a train of excellent animals to which I could safely trust my baggage up to Hunza. Little defects in my outfit which the experience of the previous marches had brought to light were easily made good in the interval, since every member of the ‘ station ”’ offered kind help. While the Commissariat Stores supplied what was needed in the way of followers’ warm clothing, foodstuffs, &c., Mrs. W., the only lady left in the ‘‘ station,” kindly offered threads of her own fair hair for use in the photo-theodolite. How often had I occasion to feel grateful thereafter for this much-needed reserve store when handling that delicate instrument with half-benumbed fingers on wind- swept mountain-tops !
Il
CHAPTER THROUGH HUNZA
On the afternoon of the 15th of June I left Gilgit full of the pleasant impressions MIR’S CASTLE AT BALTIT. from my cordial reception
at this last Anglo-Indian
outpost. The first march of eighteen miles was to Nomal, a green oasis in the otherwise barren valley of the river which comes from Hunza. The preceding days in Gilgit chad been abnormally cloudy and cool, and this weather made marching pleasant enough. Since the little war of 1891, which had asserted British authority in Hunza, the road up
the valley has been greatly improved. Nevertheless, it is but 29
30 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. IIL
a narrow bridle path, and as it winds along precipitous spurs many hundred feet above the stream, it required such a steady hill pony as that kindly lent to me by Major E. J. Medley, of the 17th Bengal Lancers, then Commanding the Force in Gilgit, to ride with any feeling of comfort.
From Nomal and upwards the river has cut its way through a succession of deep gorges, lined often with almost perpen- dicular cliffs. The path is carried in long zigzags over the projecting cross-ridges, and more than once traverses their face by means of galleries built out from the rock. At Chalt, the end point of my second day’s march, I reached the limit of Gilgit territory. Here the valley widens considerably and takes a sharp turn eastwards. As a reminiscence of an earlier state of things the place is garrisoned with a company of Kashmir Imperial Service troops. Their commandant, an aged Subahdar from the Garhwal district, came to call on me soon after I had arrived at the comfortable bungalow of the Military Works Department. In the course of our long con- versation he gave me graphic accounts of what Gilgit meant to the Kashmir troops twenty and thirty years ago; of the hardships which the want of commissariat arrangements caused both to the soldiers and the inhabitants. From the description of these sufferings it was pleasant to turn to other aspects of soldiering in the old Dogra service, ¢.g., the quaint Sanskrit words of command concocted under Maharaja Ranbir Singh, and still in use not so many years ago.
On the 17th I intended to make a double march, pushing on straight to the centre of the Hunza valley, where baggage animals were to be left behind and coolies taken for the rest of the journey to the Taghdumbash Pamir. After leaving Chalt the road crosses to the left bank of the river by a fine suspension bridge, hung like the rest of the more important bridges on the route from Kashmir, from ropes made of telegraph-wire. This mode of construction, first tried in these parts by Colonel Aylmer, of the Royal Engineers, has proved
CHAP. III. ] MOUNT RAKIPOSHI 31
everywhere a signal success ; its advantages are easily appreci- ated in a country where other suitable materials could scarcely be carried to the spot. .
It was after rounding a long massive spur which causes a great bend in the river-bed that I first beheld the ice-clad peaks of Mount Rakiposhi in their glory. The weather had been too cloudy during the preceding days to see much of this giant of mountains while I was marching in the valleys which flank it to the south and west. Now that I had got to its north side a day of spotless clearness set in, and the dazzling mass of snow and ice stood up sharp against the blue sky. Rakiposhi, with its towering height of over 25,500 feet, commands completely the scenery in the Upper Hunza Valley. Though several peaks run it close in point of elevation, none can equal it in boldness of shape and noble isolation. All day long I revelled in this grand sight, hidden only for short distances by the spurs which Rakiposhi sends down into the valley. Between them lie deep-cut side valleys through which the streams fed from the glaciers of Rakiposhi make their way to the main stream. The ample moisture supplied by the eternal snows of the higher slopes has not only brought verdure to the cultivated terraces in the valley. High above the walls of bare rock which bound the latter, patches of pine forest and green slopes of grazing land can be seen stretching up to the edge of the snow line. Glaciers, of spotless white on their higher parts, but grey with detritus below, furrow the flanks of the mountain mass and push their tongues almost down to the level of the main valley which here rises from six to seven thousand feet above the sea.
At Nilth, some eight miles above Chalt, the first Nagir village is reached. It was the scene of the notable fight which decided in 1891 the fate of Hunza and Nagir. The two little hill states which divide between them the right and left sides of the valley jointly known as Kanjut, had stoutly maintained their independence against all Dogra attempts at
32 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III.
conquest. No wonder that people to whom their own mountains offer so scanty room and sustenance proved troublesome neighbours. Slave raiding into the lower valleys had for a long time been a regular source of revenue for the chiefs or Mirs of Hunza. The plundering expeditions of the sturdy Kanjutis were feared by caravans far away on the Pamirs and on the trade routes towards the Karakorum. Across the great glaciers which stretch along the flanks of the | Muztagh range parties of Kanjuti freebooters used to break into the valleys of Baltistan. I well remember the rude towers near the mouth of the great Biafo glacier which I saw on my visit to the Braldo Valley eleven years before. They plainly showed that even in that forbidding region raids from Hunza had to be guarded against.
All this has changed with the brilliant little campaign which began and ended at Nilth. The graphic account of Mr. Knight, who accompanied the small force from Gilgit as correspondent of the Times, has made all the incidents well known. From the shady little Bagh in front of Nilth where I halted for breakfast, I could conveniently survey the fortified village which Colonel Durand’s force stormed, and the pre- cipitous gorge behind, which stopped his further progress for nearly three weeks. The sangars which had crowned the cliffs on the opposite side and from which the men of Nagir had offered so stout a resistance, were already in ruins. But of their defenders, several joined me in a friendly chat, and pointed out all the important positions.
Nothing speaks more for the policy and tact of the victors than the good feeling with which the people of the valley remember the contest. The men of the local ‘‘ Levies’ who showed me the precipitous cliffs of conglomerate over 1,000 feet high, seen on the left of the accompanying photo- eraph, which Captain (then Lieutenant) Manners Smith sealed with his handful of Dogras and Gurkhas, seemed almost as proud of the daring exploit that had won that
CHAP. III. | NILTH GORGE 33
gallant officer his Victoria Cross, as if it had been done by one of themselves. The explanation lies probably in the fact that all interference with the habits of the people and their traditional rulers has been scrupulously avoided. The small
garrison of Kashmir Imperial Service Troops which was quartered in the centre of the valley for a few years has been
CLIFFS OF NILTH GORGE, NAGIR.
removed. The British Political Officer who was left to advise the chiefs of Hunza and Nagir, has now also been withdrawn, and of the visible effects of the conquest there now remains nothing in the valley but a well-made road and absolute security for the traveller. The zeal and bravery which the Kanjuti levies displayed when called to aid in the Chitral campaign are the best proof of the loyal spirit with which the 4
34 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III.
changed situation has been accepted. Yet this population of brave mountaineers, small as it is, has to struggle harder than ever to maintain itself amidst these gorges bound by rock and ice, now that the days of raiding are gone.
From Nilth onwards the road leads over a succession of highly cultivated plateaus, separated by deep-cut glacier ravines. Everywhere there were little clumps of fruit trees, of which the mulberries were just ripening. The villages _ which I passed were distinctly picturesque, being all enclosed with walls of rough stone and square loopholed towers. Their position, which is usually on the very edge of the plateau, falling off in precipitous banks towards the river, also shows that safety was a consideration. Old are these sites in all probability, but the only remains of antiquity that I could see or hear of above ground are those of a small Buddhist Stupa or relic tower passed on the road close to the hamlet of Thol. Built of solid masonry, it rises on a base of ten feet square to a height of nearly twenty feet, and is remarkably well pre- served. The only damage done is at the corner, where the masonry of the base has been knocked off to save the detour of a few feet to the road which passes by the side of the monument. It is evident that even at so remote a spot the ‘“Public Works’ of modern India involve the same danger to ancient monuments which they have unfortunately proved throughout the peninsula.
While the Nagir side of the valley shows a cheerful suc- cession of villages, the opposite side, which belongs to Hunza, is here for the most part a rocky waste. The difference is easily accounted for by the increased supply of water which Rakiposhi provides. Among the people of Nagir no marked difference from the Dard type is noticeable. Shina, the language of Gilgit, seems to be spoken in most of the lower - villages, though Burisheski, the language of Hunza, is also understood. The latter has no apparent connection with either the Indian or the Iranian family of languages, and
CHAP. III.] LANGUAGE OF HUNZA 35
seems an erratic block left here by some bygone wave of conquest. In its stock of words it shows no resemblance to the Turki dialects, but is closely allied to the Wurshki tongue spoken in the northern valleys of Yasin. How the
STUPA OF THOL, NAGIR.
small race which speaks the language of Hunza has come to occupy these valleys will perhaps never be cleared up by historical evidence. But its preservation between the Dards on the south and the Iranian and Turki tribes on the
36 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III.
north is clearly due to the isolated position of the country. It was curious to me to watch the rapid inroads which Hindu- stani has made in this linguistic area during the last few years. The few hundred men placed in garrison along the valley and the passage of the convoys bringing their supplies have sufticed to spread a knowledge of Hindustani, or rather Punjabi, among the villagers, which considering the brief time is quite surprising. In view of this experience the rapid spread of Arabic and Persian words on the line of early Muhammadan conquest throughout Asia becomes more easily intelligible.
The constant ups and downs of the road seemed to spread out considerably the distance of twenty-six miles between Chalt and Aliabad, the end of my march. Below the fort village of Tashsot the route crosses the rock-bound bed of the river by a bold bridge, and then continues along absolutely barren slopes of rock and shingle for several miles. In the light of the evening the steep walls of rock rising on either side fully five or six thousand feet above the river, with the icy crests of Rakiposhi in the background, formed a picture worthy of the imagination of Gustave Doré. By the time I had cleared the worst parts of the road along sliding beds of detritus it had got quite dark. For two hours more the road wound round deep side-valleys from the north until I emerged on the open plateau which bears the village and lands of Aliabad. Here a little fort had been erected during the tem- porary occupation of Hunza, and close to it stands the bungalow of the Political Officer. Though Captain P. J. Miles, the rightful occupant, was absent on leave, I was able to find shelter under its hospitable roof. Cheerful enough the little luxuries of this frontier-officer’s home appeared to me. His servants too, sturdy Hunza men, knew how to help a belated Sahib to an early meal and rest.
When I awoke in the morning a view of unexpected grandeur greeted me.’ Rakiposhi, seen now from the north-
reer
a
3
“AVAVITY
WOW
NaS
THSOdIM VY
37
38 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III.
east, reared its crown of ice and snow more imposingly than ever, and without a speck of cloud or mist. To the north mighty peaks, also above 25,000 feet in height, frown down upon the valley, while eastwards I could see the range along which my onward route was to lead. The two days which I had saved by the double marches between Gilgit and Hunza, were used for a short halt at Aliabad. I required it in order to distribute my baggage into loads suitable for coolie transport, and also to dispose of arrears of correspondence, &e.. Hunza, it is true, does not boast as yet of a post-office. But a “ Political Dak” connects it every second day with Gilgit, and in view of the long journey before me it seemed right to utilise to the full this last link of regular postal communication.
The first morning brought the Mir’s Wazir, who came to assure me of the arrangements that had been made for the onward journey. Wazir Humayun is no small personage in the Hunza State, being the chief adviser and executive officer of the Mir, which rank he holds by hereditary right. He is a tall, well-built man of about fifty years, with an imposing beard, and makes a striking appearance, even in the semi- European costume he has chosen to adopt, evidently as a mark of his progressive ideas. It must have been different in former years, when the Wazir led Kanjuti raids into Sarikol, Gilgit, and Baltistan. A pleasant fire lit up his eyes as he talked to me of his expeditions to Tashkurghan and into the Braldo Valley. Now that the days of fighting are gone he evidently does his best to develop the internal re- sources. It is no easy task, for the cultivable land is far too limited to provide for the increase of population. Only by elaborate irrigation can produce be wrung from the rock- strewn slopes of the valley, and the long courses of ‘ kuls’ (water-channels) winding along the foot of the mountains often in double and treble tiers, show how carefully the available supply of water from the glacier-fed streams of the side valleys has been utilised.
CHAP. III. ] . HALT AT ALIABAD 39
Curious, too, was the information about the relations of Hunza with the Celestial Empire. Hunza people have for a long time back occupied valleys like that of the Oprang stream draining into the Yarkand River; and their continued occupation of these tracts, which plainly fall within the natural boundaries of Chinese Turkestan, is probably the reason why the further periodical transmission of presents to the Kashgar authorities has been acquiesced in even after the enforcement of British sovereign rights. On the other hand Hunza enjoys the benefit of Chinese return: ‘‘ presents”’ considerably in excess of those sent, an arrangement mani- festly representing the blackmail which the Chinese had to pay to safeguard their territory between Sarikol and the Karakorum from Kanjuti raiding. On my enquiring after records of the relations with the Chinese authorities, the Wazir informed me that a quantity of documents, mostly Chinese, with Persian or Turki translations, had been re- moved from the Mir’s residence at Baltit to Simla, after the occupation in 1891. It would be interesting to ascertain from these or from the Chinese archives, what official status was accorded by Chinese diplomacy to the Kanjuti chiefs.
Though British supremacy in Hunza, very different from Chinese fictions, is a thing of manifest reality, it is maintained without material force. The little fort built in the open fields of Aliabad is now mainly used as a com- missariat ‘“‘ Godown,” and guarded only by a few local levies raised among the neighbouring villagers. Yet these levies, of whom there are about one hundred and eighty in the state, proved useful during the Chitral campaign. As elsewhere along the North-West border, these local militia supply an excellent instrument for the political management of their own territory. Regular pay and easy service are effective in attaching them to the ruling order of things. The additional advantage which levies on the Afghan border offer for the safe employment of notoriously bad characters that would
40 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III.
otherwise be likely to give trouble, need fortunately not be considered in Hunza. The people have been described by those best qualified to judge, as thoroughly tractable and obedient to constituted authority, and notwithstanding their old raiding reputation, this description seems fully justified.
On the second day of my stay at Aliabad I received the visit of the Mir of Hunza, Muhammad Nazim, who had been installed after the occupation in 1891. He is a man of about thirty-five, of open and manly bearing, and evidently deserves the reputation for intelligence and firmness which he enjoys. Our conversation, carried on in Persian, turned naturally more to the old conditions of the country than to the reforms about which the Mir is said to be energetic. Road-making, vaccination, and similar Western improvements seem strange as objects of genuine interest in the representative of a family for which intrigue and murder were down to the present generation the main incidents of life. This trans- formation in its rapidity and evident thoroughness 1s a striking proof of the results of the pax britannica.
Through the Wazir I had engaged two Hunza levies who had been on the Pamir before, to accompany my camp to Sarikol as guides. Muhammad Rafi, the commandant of the Mir’s bodyguard, was sent to organise and supervise the transport, represented by sixty coolies. Swelled by these numbers my caravan looked alarmingly large as it moved off on the morning of June 20th. The first march was only a short one, to Baltit, the chief place of Hunza, and the Mir’s residence. Rising on a cliff from an expanse of terraced fields and orchards, the Castle of Baltit looks imposing enough with its high walls and towers. Below it, closely packed on the hillside, are the rubble-built houses, some two hundred in number, of the Hunza capital. The newly built bungalow which received me lies immediately below the fine polo ground, offering a cheerful sight with its green turf and shady Chinar trees. On the opposite southern side of the valley
CHAP. III. | VISIT TO MIR’S CASTLE 41
a striking view opened on the Sumair glacier with a hoary ice peak behind it.
The visit which I paid to the Mir in the late afternoon, gave me an opportunity to inspect more closely the time-honoured castle of the Hunza rulers (see p. 29). The high, massive walls of the foundation upon which the inhabited quarters are raised, are said to have been the work of Balti workmen who
HUNZA COOLIES, BEFORE START FROM ALIABAD,
came in the train of a Balti princess, and from whom the place has derived its name, Baltit. From the roof of the castle where I found the Mir with his numerous retainers, a superb view extends over the main pcrtion of the Hunza valley. A newly built pavilion-like structure where I was subsequently entertained to tea and cake, occupies the same elevated position and offers the same delightful prospect.
42 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III.
Notwithstanding some European articles of furniture of doubtful taste which had already found their way to this apartment, the whole showed clearly the prevalence of Central- Asian manufacture. Carpets from Yarkand, Chinese silks and gaily-coloured prints from Kashgar could indeed make their way to Hunza far more easily over the Sarikol passes than Indian articles before the opening of the Gilgit route. Even now the latter is open to trade for a far shorter period than the passes from the North.
Returning from my visit to this interesting place I noticed several small mosques constructed of wood, and showing on their beams and posts a good deal of effective carving. Rougher in execution than old Kashmir woodwork, it yet displayed, just like the latter, decorative elements of a distinctly early Indian type, e.g., the double ‘Chaitya’ ornament, the Sacred Wheel, the Svastika. The work I Saw was said to be of comparatively recent date, which makes the survival of these patterns borrowed from the South so much the more curious.
My march on June 21st looked short on the map, but the accounts I had collected of it prepared me for ‘its difficulties. Soon after passing, about two miles above Baltit, the picturesque fort-village of Altit, the valley con- tracts to a gorge of rugged rocks, almost without a trace of vegetation. A narrow path winds along the cliffs, sometimes close by the swollen river, sometimes several hundred feet above it. A small alluvial plateau, reached some four miles beyond, bears the little village of Muhammadabad. But the track leads far below over the sandy bed of the river. This bed indeed forms the easiest route up the valley, and only when its water is low in the winter can ponies be brought up or down. The frequent crossing of the river which this winter route necessitates is altogether impossible when the snow on the mountains has once begun to melt.
Accordingly a high rugged spur had to be climbed and the
CHAP. III. ] GHAMMESAR LANDSLIP 43
débris of an enormous old landslip to be traversed before I could descend again to the riverside and reach the camping- ground of Ataabad. The hamlet which gives this name was scarcely to be seen from below, and shut in by an amphi- theatre of absolutely bare rocky heights, our halting-place looked a dismal spot. About half a century ago the Ghammesar landslip, already referred to, is said to have blocked the whole valley, when from Ataabad upwards an
FORT-VILLAGE OF ALTIT.
enormous lake was formed. The black glacier-ground sand, which the Hunza River brings down and deposits in large quantities, rose in thick dust with the wind which blew down the valley in the evening. Drink and food tasted equally eritty ; it seemed a foretaste of the Khotan desert. In so desolate a neighbourhood I felt doubly grateful for the Dak- runner who at nightfall brought a long-expected home mail.
The march of the next day proved a trying experience. A
44 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III.
short distance above Ataabad the river passes along a series of cross-spurs which at their foot are almost perpendicular. So the path climbs up their sides, and clings to them where they are too steep by means of narrow galleries. These are carried in parts over branches of trees forced into fissures of the rock and covered with small stones. Elsewhere narrow natural ledges are widened by flat slabs packed over them. In some places these galleries, or ‘ Rafiks,’ as they are locally called, turn in sharp zigzags on the side of cliffs where a false step would prove fatal, while at others again they are steep enough to resemble ladders. To carry loads along these galleries is difficult enough, and for cattle as well as ponies, surefooted as the latter must be in Hunza, they are wholly impassable. At more than one place even ‘ Yolchi Beg,’ my little terrier, had _ relue- tantly to submit to the indignity of being carried, though on
Our celrin bs”. on Kashmir --l-* bad found few rocks that would re- fuse him a foothold. Scrambles Od. hers kind al- ternated alone the whole
RAFIK ABOVE ATAABAD. march
CHAP. III. ] CLIMBS OVER RAFIKS 45
with passages over shingly slopes and climbs over rock-strewn wastes, Only at a few spots the barren grey and yellow of the rocks was relieved by some green shrubs growing where scanty watercourses forced their way down the fissured slopes. After - gix hours’ steady climbing and scrambling it was a relief to see at last the valley widen again, and two hours more brought me to Ghulmit village. It occupies a wide alluvial fan on the flank of a considerable glacier, the white crest of which could be seen from a distance rising above the orchards and fields.
At Ghulmit that part of the Hunza Valley is entered which is known as Little Guhyal. It takes this name from its inhabitants, Wakhi immigrants from Wakhan or Guhyal on the Oxus. It was easy to notice the change of race in the assembly of well-built handsome village headmen which received me some distance from the village. Headed by the Mir’s relation, Muhammad Nafiz, who acts as his representa- tive among the villages of this part of the valley, they escorted me in stately procession to the little orchard of apricot trees where my camp was to be pitched. I was delighted to hear at last the language of Wakhan, which had attracted my attention years before I first came to India, as a remarkably conservative descendant of the ancient tongue of Eastern Ivan. It seemed strange that I should have first touched the linguistic borders of old Iran, high up in these mountains. The fact was bound to remind me that the Pamirs which I was about to approach, mark the point of contact not only of great geographical divisions, but also of equally great language families and of the races speaking them. Close to the Kilik Pass is the point where the watersheds bounding the drainage areas of the Oxus, Indus, and Yarkand Rivers meet ; and it is plain that as far as history can take us back, these areas belonged to the sphere of the dominant races of Iran, India, and Turkestan.
The Wakhis of Little Guhyal, numbering altogether about
46 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III.
a thousand souls, are a fine stalwart type, taller than the men of Hunza and usually showing clear-cut and intelligent features. The characteristic eagle-nose of the true Iranian was well represented, and their complexion, too, seemed to me distinctly fair. Many of them talk Persian with more or less fluency, and I was thus able to indulge in short chats.
WAKHI VILLAGERS, GHULMIT.
The connection with the people of Wakhan and Sarikol is still maintained by occasional marriages, and the original immigration from the Oxus Valley is distinctly remembered. How the Hunza people proper, undoubtedly more warlike and so pressed for land, acquiesced in this invasion, seems difficult to explain. The peaceful character of the Wakhis is curiously symbolised by the implement which every respectable house-
CHAP. Il. ] WAKHI SETTLEMENTS 47
holder carries about with him on state occasions. It is a long staff with a small heart-shaped shovel of wood at the end, used for opening and damming up the irrigation courses that bring fertility to the laboriously cleared terrace lands.
Ghulmit cannot have seen many Sahibs, for a large assembly of villagers remained for a long time round the neat little fruit garden where I was encamped. Next morning we made a late start owing to a change of coolies, when time is always lost until every one settles down to the load he fancies. But the march to Pasu proved short, and after the previous days’ experience unusually easy. This does not mean, of course, that the track is as yet fit for perambulators. For a short distance above Ghulmit the Ghulkin glacier comes down close to the river, and the numerous channels. in which its ash-grey waters rush forth, are troublesome to cross at this season. But the valley is open, and the stony plateaus along the right riverbank afforded easy going. Just before the end of the march the road passes in front of the Pasu glacier, which comes down with its débris-covered masses of ice from a great peak of over 25,000 feet, also visible from Aliabad and Baltit. An enormous side moraine which is crossed by the route, shows that the glacier must have advanced further at a former period.
The little village of Pasu, situated immediately to the north of the glacier-head, formed with its green fields and orchards a pleasant contrast to the bleak scenery around. It owes its existence to the irrigation cuts which catch some of the water issuing from the glacier. A little orchard in the midst of the few scattered homesteads which form the village, was my cheerful camping-ground for the day. The cooler air and the backward state of the crops of oats and millet were indications of the elevation of the place (circ. 8,000 feet above the sea). The flowers by the side of the fields, scanty as they were, gave the whole a springlike look which was most pleasing.
48 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III.
The march of June 24th brought me first to the huge Batur glacier, some three miles above Pasu. Probably over twenty- four miles long, it fills completely a large side valley which descends from the north-west, and unlike the glaciers pre- viously passed, it advances its frozen walls down to the river- bed. They are covered for miles up the valley with an extra- ordinary mass of detritus, and thanks to this thick crust of
VIEW TO NORTH-EAST OF PASU VILLAGE.
rock and shingle the crossing of the glacier was comparatively easy. All the same it took me nearly an hour to scramble across the mile and half of the glacier, and the slippery ground delayed the coolies still longer. ‘There are years when masses of ice pushed down from the unexplored upper reach of the glacier make the crossing far more difficult even for men, and altogether close the route for animals. It is in view of such obstacles, which no skill of the engineer can ever
CHAP. III. ] BATUR GLACIER 49
completely overcome, that one realises the great natural defences of the Hunza Valley route against invasion from the North. |
Above the Batur glacier the valley contracts and continues between bare walls of rock and shingle to Khaibar, the next inhabited place above Pasu. The river, no longer fed by the glacier streams from the high ranges, is now far smaller in
BATUR GLACIER, SEEN FROM SOUTH-EAST.
volume, yet still quite unfordable in summer. The mountains on either side culminate in serrated rock pinnacles of fantastic forms, but views of mighty masses of ice and snow no longer meet the eye.
The hamlet of Khaibar, which I reached after a tiring march of six hours, lies on an alluvial fan at the mouth of a
narrow side valley. Scanty indeed are the fields of the place, 5
50 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III.
and one wonders how they can support even the half-dozen home- steads. Yet even here where Nature is so harsh, defence against human foes HUNZA VALLEY BELOW KHAIBAR.
was not so very long
ago a necessary condition of existence. The path which leads to the plateau is guarded at a point of great natural streneth by a rude gateway or ‘Darband,’ a necessary precaution seeing that the opposite bank of the river was easily accessible to the people of Nagir, the hereditary enemies of Hunza.
From Khaibar to Misgar there are two routes available, one leading through the hamlet of Gircha by the left bank of the river, and the other through Khudabad on the right. The former, which was said to be easier if the water of the river was not too high, was reported impracticable soon after I had started on the morning of June 25th. Hence the track on the right bank had to be taken. Without offering exceptional difficulties that day, it was trying enough, leading almost the whole length over boulder-strewn slopes and along banks of slatey shingle. Just opposite to the hamlet of Murkhun, where
CHAP. III. | MARCHING OF KANJUTIS 51
a route to the Shimshal Valley opens eastwards, the path descends over a long Rafik built out in the usual fashion from an almost perpendicular rock face. Curiously enough at one point of the narrow ledge which bears the gallery, there issues a little spring of deliciously clear water, offering welcome refreshment to the wayfarer.
Not far beyond I met, to my surprise, the messenger whom the Wazir of Hunza had despatched to Tashkurghan to notify to the Political Munshi there my approaching arrival. The man had left Hunza on the morning of the 18th, and now he was returning with the Munshi’s reply and a considerable load of merchandise which he was bringing back as a private venture. As an illustration of the marching powers of the men of Hunza this feat a deserves record. The distance from Hunza to, it :
the Kilik is about eighty-one miles, and of re the character of the track my experiences nee so far described will suffice to give an idea. In addition to this and half the return journey, the man had covered twice the route along the Taghdum- bash Pamir to and from Tashkure- han, a distance of at least eighty miles each way. Performances of this kind make it easy to understand how the raids of Kanjuti parties could be carried to so great distances, and thanks to the rapidity of their movements, usually with im- ye punity. At Khudabad, RAFIK NEAR MURKHUN.
52 THROUGH HUNZA (CHAP. II.
a hamlet of eight houses, my day’s march ended. Here I passed once more out of the Wakhi area into that of small Hunza settlements. The fact reminds me of the strange variety of tongues which at that time could be heard in my camp. Apart from Turki conversation with my personal servants, Persian served me as a convenient medium with my Wakhi guides and the more intelligent villagers. My coolies spoke partly Wakhi, partly Burisheski, while the Dard dialect of the Shinas was represented by ‘‘ Raja’’ Ajab
KANJUTIS CARRYING MERCHANDISE,
Khan, a relative of the hill chiefs of Punyal, whose services as an orderly Captain Manners Smith had kindly secured for me, and by his retainer. In addition to these languages there was Hindustani talked between my Sub-Surveyor and Jasvant Singh, his Rajput cook. Had I brought the Kash- miri servant whom I had first engaged before Sadak Akhun joined me from Kashgar, I should have had an opportunity to keep up my Kashmiri also. Notwithstanding this diversity of tongues things arranged themselves easily, for everybody seemed to know something at least of another’s language.
CHAP. III. | CLIMBS TO MISGAR 53
The march from Khudabad to Misgar which I did on the 26th of June had been described to me as the worst bit of the route, and as an Alpine climb it certainly did not fall short of the estimate I had been led to form of it. The Chaparsun River, which comes down from the glaciers near the Irshad and Chillinji Passes in the north-west, was fortunately low at the early morning hour, and could be forded immediately above Khudabad. A long detour and the use of a rope bridge were thus avoided. But the succession of climbs which followed in the main valley beat all previous ex- perience. Scrambles up precipitous faces of slatey rocks, alternated with still more trying descents to the river-bed ; ‘Rafiks’ and ladders of the type already described were in numerous places the only possible means of getting over the cliffs, often hundreds of feet above the river. The previous five days, however, had accustomed me somewhat to such modes of progress, and it was in comparative freshness that I emerged at last in the less confined portion of the valley above its junction with the gorge of the Khunjerab River. Some miles before Misgar I was met on a desolate little plateau by the levies of that place, a remarkably striking set of men, and conducted to their village.
After the barren wilderness of rocks and glacier streams through which I had passed, the smiling green fields of Misgar were a delight to the eye. They are situated on a broad plateau some 800 feet above the left river-bank, and amply irrigated by channels fed from a_ stream of crystal-clear water which issues from a gorge to the east. The millet and ‘Rishka’ were still in young shoots, since the summer comes late at this, the northernmost village of the valley. In the midst of the fields and the scattered home- steads I found an uncultivated spot just large enough for my tent, and enjoyed again the pleasure of camping on a green sward. Close by was the Ziarat of a local saint, Pir Aktash Sahib, a simple enclosure adorned with many little flags which
54 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III.
fluttered gaily in the wind, just as if they marked the approach to a Buddhist establishment in Sikkim or Ladak. The open view across the broad valley was most cheerful after the gloomy confinement of the previous camping grounds. Far away to the north-west I even beheld a snowy ridge which clearly belonged to the watershed towards the Oxus. I felt at last that the Pamir was near.
At Misgar I was able to discharge the hardy hillmen who had carried our impedimenta over such trying ground without the slightest damage, and on the morning of June 27th I moved on with fresh transport. This consisted chiefly of ponies, as the route further on is open to baggage animals at all seasons. Though the road no longer offered special difficulties, it was tiring owing to the boulder-strewn wastes it crosses for a great part. At Topkhana, where there stands a half- ruined watch-tower amidst traces of former habitations and fields, I was met by a jolly-looking young Sarikoli, whose appearance and outfit at once showed that he came from Chinese territory. It was one of the soldiers of the ‘Karaul’ or guard kept by the Chinese on the Mintaka Pass who had been sent down to inquire as to my arrival. He carried a long matchlock with the gable-ended rest sticking out beyond it, an indispensable implement of the Celestial soldiery of the old type all through the empire. Ruddy-cheeked and clothed in fur cap, mighty boots, and a series of thick ‘Chogas’ or coats, the young fellow looked serviceable enough. Less so his matchlock, which had lost its breach-piece, and in the barrel of which a broken ramrod had stuck fast evidently for many along day. He assured me that the expected yaks and ponies were already waiting for me, and tried to make himself as useful on the rest of the march as if he belonged to my following of Hunza levies.
In reality the frontier line seems of little consequence to the Wakhi herdsmen who live on either side of it. When after a march of over twelve miles I arrived at Murkushi, where
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56 THROUGH HUNZA [ CHAP. III.
the routes to the Kilik and Mintaka diverge, there was a set of picturesque Wakhis from across the border waiting for me. They had left their yaks on this side of the pass, where they found better grazing. It was a pleasure to behold these sturdy fellows in their dresses of Yarkand fabrics showing all colours of the rainbow. Their clear-cut Iranian features, almost European in complexion, seemed to contrast pleasantly with their Kirghiz get-up. Down in the little wood of stunted birch-trees by the river where I camped for the night, it was scarcely as cold as might be expected at an elevation of nearly 12,000 feet. At 6 a.m. on the following morning the thermometer showed 47° F.
A march of four hours brought me on the 28th of June to the high grazing ground known as Shirin Maidan (‘‘the Milky Plain’’), close to the foot of the Kilik Pass. Here the change in the temperature due to the great elevation made itself most perceptible. When the sun passed behind light clouds at noon and a fresh breeze blew down the pass it was bitterly cold, and I was glad to get into my fur coat as soon as the baggage arrived.
The range immediately to the north which is crossed by the pass, appeared low by the side of the rugged peaks which show their snowy heads further down in the valley. More. imposing than the watershed towards the Taghdumbash, looked a distant glacier-covered ridge visible through a side valley westwards. Behind it lay the sources of the Oxus, or more exactly of the Ab-i-Panja branch.
My Guhyal coolies and Hunza levies had now all been dis- charged, and I was left to enjoy the change in my camp surroundings. Muhammad Yusuf, the Sarikoli headman, and his seven relatives who brought the yaks that were to take my baggage onwards, were cheerful to look at and to talk to. They understood Turki quite well and were most communica- tive. In their midst I felt that I had passed out of India.
YAKS STARTING FOR KILIK PASS.
CHAPTER IV ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR
, WHEN early on the morning of the 29th of June I struck camp to move over the Kilik or ‘ Kalik’ Pass, as it is called by Kanjutis, the ground was covered with hoar frost and the little. streams which came down from the pass were partly frozen. I tried to start early in order to find the snow still hard; but the packing of the baggage on yaks proved a lengthy affair, and it was not till 8 a.m. that the caravan moved off. I had the satisfaction of seeing the servants whom the previous marches had tried a great deal, now comfortably mounted on yaks. The ascent lay northwards through a comparatively open though steep nullah for about an hour. Then the ground widened, and the flat watershed still covered with snow came into view. On the east the pass is flanked by spurs of a rugged peak, which rises to a height of nearly
20,000 feet. On the west two small glaciers stretch down 57
58 ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR [omap. iv.
to it from a somewhat lower range, the culminating peak of which seems to mark the point where the drainage areas of the Oxus, Indus, and Yarkand Rivers meet. On the flat plain, about half a mile broad, which forms the top of the Kilik, it was not easy to fix the actually lowest point, the true watershed. When I had ascertained the spot that looked like it, a halt was made to boil the water for the hypsometer.
KILIK PASS SEEN FROM KHUSHBEL,
It proved a troublesome business in the bitterly cold wind which was blowing across, and by the time that I got the readings which gave the height as cire. 15,800 feet, it began ‘to snow. Bleak and shrouded in clouds looked the range to the north, which marks the boundary of the Russian Pamirs, but there was nothing striking in its outlines, nor was the amount of snow as great as on the serrated high peaks towards Hunza. The ride down in the soft snow and in the face of the cutting wind was not a pleasant experience, but the yaks
CHAP. IV. | CROSSING OF KILIK PASS 59
proved most useful as snow-ploughs, and by 1 p.m., after a descent of over two hours, I found myself at Kok-torok (** the Blue Boulder,” in Turki) on the flat of the Taghdumbash Pamir.
An imposing cavalcade met me as I approached the place where my camp was to be pitched. Munshi Sher Muhammad, the Political Munshi stationed at Tashkurghan under the orders of Mr. Macartney, had come up from his post to greet me; and attracted, no doubt, by his example, the Sarikoli Bees in charge of the several portions of the country above Tashkurghan, also awaited my arrival. Munshi Sher Muhammad, a fine-looking, active man, introduced himself as an old pupil of the Oriental College at Lahore of which I had held charge so long. The arrangements he had made for my journey down to Tashkurghan were all that could be desired and showed his influence with the local authorities as much as his eagerness to help me. It was bitterly cold during this first day on the Taghdumbash as, soon after my arrival, a strong wind sprung up blowing across the valley from the north-east and bringing light snow atintervals. The observation of Captain Deasy, who had encamped at the same spot in 1897, shows that its elevation is close on 14,000 feet.
On the 80th of June the sun shone brightly when I rose, and though the temperature at 6 a.m. was only 87° F. in the shade, it felt pleasant enough as the air was still) The surrounding ridges, all snow-capped, stood out with perfect clearness against the blue sky. The conditions were exceptionally favourable for the survey work which was to be commenced here, and by 8 a.m. the surveyor and myself were on our way to the top of the Khushbel spur which was to serve as a station. This spur descends from the high range on the east of the Kilik Pass towards the valley, and by its detached position offers an extensive view over the upper portion of the Taghdumbash. We were able to ascend close to its top, 16,820 feet above the sea, by means of yaks
60 ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR | [cuap. iv.
an advantage which, in view of the subsequent work, was not to be despised. The way in which the sure-footed animals carried us and our instruments steadily up, first over steep grassy slopes, then over fields of snow, and finally over the shingly beds of rock, was to me a novel and gratifying experience. It was clear that by a judicious use of the yak the difficulties which the high elevations offer to mountaineering in these regions could be reduced for the initial stages. From the top of Khushbel we were able to identify some peaks both towards the Murghab Valley and Hunza which had been triangulated by Captain Deasy. While Ram Singh was busy with his plane-table, I did my first work with the Bridges-Lee photo-theodolite, an excellent instrument, which was now on its first trial in Central Asia. By noon the wind began to blow again, which seems a regular feature of the atmospheric conditions at this season, and I was glad when by 6 p.m. the shelter of the tent was reached.
Koktorok is so near to the Wakhjir Pass, which marks the watershed between the Oxus and the Yarkand River drainage systems, that I could not resist the temptation of visiting it during the two days which were required for the Sub-Surveyor’s work round this camp. It would have weighed on my topographical conscience to have passed by without seeing at least the head of the Wakhan Valley and the glacier which Lord Curzon first demonstrated to be the true source of the Oxus. Accordingly, leaving all heavy baggage with the Sub- Surveyors party at Koktorok, I set out on the morning of the 1st of July towards the Wakhjir Pass. The road led first up the open valley towards the west, and then after some five miles turned into a narrower side valley in a south-westerly direction. Large patches of snow and the gradual disappear- ance of the thick, coarse grass, which was to be seen round Koktorok Camp, marked the higher elevation. I pitched my tent at the point which offered the last bit of comparatively dry ground, cire. 15,800 feet above the sea. Higher up
CHAP. IV. ] WATERSHED TOWARDS OXUS 61
there was snow at the bottom of the valley, or boggy soil where the snow had just melted. In front I had the view of numerous small glaciers, which clothe the slopes of the range south of the pass. My intention of going up to the latter the same day was frustrated by a storm which brought sleet and snow. In the cutting cold my people felt the scarcity of fuel; for even the coarse grass known to the Sarikolis as
SNOWY RANGE SOUTH OF HEAD OF AB-I-PANJA VALLEY.
‘Dildung’ and to the Kirghiz as ‘ Burse,’ the dry roots of which supply the only fuel of this region—apart from dry yak dung—was no longer to be found at this altitude.
By the morning of the next day the weather had cleared, and the ascent to the pass could be effected without difficulty. One and a half hour’s ride on a yak over easily sloping snow beds and past a small lake brought me to the watershed. It
62 ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR | [cnmap. rv.
was clearly marked by the divergent direction of the small streams which drained the melting snow; and the hypsometer, which I boiled on a boulder-strewn patch of dry ground close by, gave the height as close on 16,200 feet.
A glacier of pure white ice pushes its tongue to within a few hundred yards from the north. The descent to the west of the pass took me into Afghan territory, but in this
PHOTO-THEODOLITE VIEW OF OXUS SOURCE GLACIERS.
mountain solitude there was no need to consider whether this short inroad into His Highness the Amir’s dominions was authorized or not. The soft snow impeded my progress for about a mile and a half, but then the ground got clear, and I was able to follow without trouble the stream from the pass down to where it joins the far greater one which drains the glaciers at the true head of the Wakhan Valley. A climb of
CHAP. IV.] OXUS SOURCE GLACIERS 63
some eight hundred feet up the mountain-side to the north gave me a splendid view of the valley through which the collected waters of the Ab-i-Panja flow down towards Bozai Gumbaz and Sarhad. The glaciers, too, from which they chiefly issue, were clearly in view. An hour’s work with the photo-theodolite enabled me to retain the whole of this impressive panorama. It left no doubt as to Lord Curzon
VIEW DOWN AB-I-PANJA VALLEY FROM NEAR WAKHJIR PASS.
being right in placing here the true source of the great river.
The high ranges which line the valley precluded a view further west towards Wakhan proper and Badakhshan. Yet it was a strange and joyful sensation to know that I stood at last at the eastern threshold of that distant region, including Bactria and the Upper Oxus Valley, which has had a special
64 ON -THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR _[cnap. rv.
fascination for me ever since I was a boy. How I wished to have been able to follow the waters of the Oxus on their onward course! All the interests of ancient Iran cluster in one form or the other round the banks of the great stream. Since the earliest times it has brought fertility and culture to the regions which it waters. Here at its source there was only a silent, lifeless waste of rock and ice. Yet I found it hard to leave this desolate scene.
The evening glow was spreading over the valley when I retraced my route to the pass, and it was dark before I returned to camp. I found there to my delight an eagerly- expected home mail, which the attentive Wazir of Hunza had sent by special messenger over the Kilik. With it came a batch of the latest telegrams of Reuter, which were to be forwarded to Mr. Macartney at Kashgar after perusal. They brought news of the attack on the Peking Legations and of the fighting about Tien-tsin. It was strange to read here at the westernmost extremity of the Chinese Empire of the events which had convulsed its capital in the far Kast scarcely more than a week before. I thought it fortunate indeed at the time that this disturbing news would probably take months to reach the population of the outlying province of Kashgar. And I felt still more grateful for the time-honoured decentrali- sation of the Celestial Empire which made any immediate influence of those troubles on Chinese Turkestan and on my programme of explorations appear distinctly improbable.
On the 83rd of July I marched back to Koktorok, and having picked up the Sub-Surveyor and heavy baggage, continued in the broad, grassy valley down to Tigharman-su.
There I camped near two Kirghiz felt huts or ‘ Ak-uis’ pitched by Muhammad Yusuf’s people, who graze their flocks of sheep and yaks here during the summer. On the following morning appeared Karakash Beg, the Sarikoli headman in charge of the Mintaka route, to escort me further down the valley. We were nearing, after a march of some six miles,
CHAP. IV. ] A CHANCE MEETING 65
the post at the northern foot of the Mintaka Pass, when a report was brought to my guide of a ‘‘ Russian officer,’’ who had just reached the post via the Payik Pass from the north. Having heard nothing before of such a visitor being expected, I rode up with some curiosity, and soon found myself face to face with the reported arrival. It wasa young German officer, Lieutenant F., of the Bavarian Foot Guards, who had just
KIRGHIZ ‘AK-UIS’ AT TIGHARMAN-SU.
travelled down from the head of the Russian railways in Farghana, and was now intending to make his way to Gilgit and India. He knew nothing of the special permission of the Indian Government, without which the Hunza route is closed to European travellers, and was also surprised to hear of the time required for the journey down to Kashmir. Finding that his leave would not suffice for this extension of his trip, Lieutenant F. there and then, while refreshing himself at 6
66 ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR [cuap. tv.
the breakfast my men had soon got ready for us, made up his mind to visit Kashgar instead. Accepting my invitation to share my camp, he accompanied me to Sarik-Jilga, the end of my march.
On the way, and then at table, my young guest told me much of interest concerning his ten days’ ride oyer the Russian Pamirs. Though far too rapid for close observation, it was a performance highly creditable to his endurance. Of outfit and provisions he had brought scarcely more than is wanted for a few days’ outing in the Bavarian Alps, but he had soon been obliged to provide himself against the rigours of a Pamir summer, for which he was little prepared, by pur- chasing a large fur coat off the back of a Kirghiz. I won- dered inwardly how he managed to get rid of the livestock likely to be involved in this transaction. As the Kirghiz had so far been his only hosts except at the Russian fort of Pamirski Post, and as he could not make himself readily understood by them, his bodily wants had found but scant satisfaction. His two ponies were also nearly done up by the hardships of these precipitous marches. On the other hand, there was no need for the two revolvers which he was carrying in his belt, and after our conversation he soon found for them a less prominent receptacle. For, indeed, if the Pamir region does not yet offer inns and rest-houses after the fashion of the Alps, it may boast of an equal degree of security.
Comparing notes from north and south we spent a cheerful evening together. Karakash Beg and his followers shared my satisfaction at this chance meeting. For the assurance that the unexpected arrival was after all not a ‘ Rus’ relieved them of all responsibility. On the 5th of July we rode down together some fifteen miles to Ghujakbai (the ‘ Ujadbhai ’ of former maps), where the valley turns to the north and considerably widens. The snow-capped ranges on both sides now receded, and the widening expanse of the valley vividly demonstrated the importance which belongs to the Taghdum-
CHAP. IV. ] KIRGHIZ AT DAFDAR 67
bash from ancient times as a great natural thoroughfare over the ‘ Roof of the World.” Here my newly-found companion left me in order to hurry onwards to Tashkurghan. He had been fitted out with what was needed in the way of tinned provisions, &c., in order to take him comfortably through to Kashgar; and M. Sher Muhammad, for whom I gave him a letter, subsequently secured for him the change of animals and the passport of the local Chinese commandant which were required for his further progress.
My way on July 6th lay from Ghujakbai first over a broad alluvial plateau which stretches for miles up the valley of the stream coming from the Khunjerab Pass. <As_ it approaches the Taghdumbash Darya it spreads out fan-wise, and resembles most closely the ‘ Karewa’ plateaus which form so characteristic a feature of the Kashmir Valley. <A ride of some five miles across this barren waste brought me to Dafdar, where, near a couple of ‘ Ak-uis,’ I found a picturesque assembly of Wakhis and Kirghiz awaiting me. The latter had come from Pisling, a small settlement across the river. By the side of their stalwart and handsome Wakhi neighbours they looked somewhat insignificant; but their cheerful expression and joviality amply made up for the defects of stature and countenance. A short distance below Dafdar I came upon the first traces of cultivation. On the scattered fields which little channels from a side stream irrigate, the crops of oats and barley have evidently a hard struggle. All the same it was a pleasure to meet again with this evidence of permanent habitation. It is only during the last ten years that the latter has become possible, since Kanjuti raids have ceased and order has been secured for the valley.
It was a novel sensation, after the weeks passed in narrow gorges and amidst snow-covered heights, to ride along these broad, smiling slopes gently descending from the foot of the mountains. Wherever water reaches them from the side valleys, the ground was covered with a carpet of flowers and
68 ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR _[cuap. tv.
herbs which scented the air quite perceptibly. When about midway of the march I made a short halt on the green meadows of Ghan, a summer grazing-ground, I could easily imagine myself enjoying a bright summer day on a Hun- garian ‘‘puszta.”” A troop of ponies turned loose to graze around were lustily enjoying the delights of freedom and rich
WAKHIS AND KIRGHIZ AT DAFDAR.
pasture. To watch their lazy, happy ways was a pleasant distraction.
Light, fleecy clouds hung over the mountains, and it was only in the afternoon when approaching the end of my march of some eighteen miles that I could perceive, rising above them in the north, the glistening mass of a great snowy dome. This was Muz-tagh-Ata, ‘the Father of Ice Moun- tains,’ which I had so long wished to behold. At Yurgal
CHAP. Iv.| APPROACH TO TASHKURGHAN 69
Gumbaz, where I pitched my camp by the side of the river now grey and swollen with the water of glacier streams, it was distinctly warm until the wind began to blow up the valley.
Next morning we were ready for an early start, for the neighbourhood of Tashkurghan and such comforts as it could offer was an attraction for my people no less than myself. Muztagh-Ata, still so distant, showed itself in fascinating clearness during the early hours of the morning. Its grand dome of ice filled the vista behind the north end of the valley. After a few miles’ ride over a stony level ‘ Dasht,’ my guide, Rashid Beg, the Ming-bashi (“‘ head of a thousand men ’’) of Tashkurghan, broke his usual silence, and indicated a white spot in the far distance as the goal of our march. It was the Fort of Tashkurghan, rising over the western bank of the river. Then I reached a strip of delightfully green sward stretching along the irrigation channel which carries the water of the river to the fields of Tughlanshahr, the collection of hamlets opposite Tashkurghan. For miles the path winds along it, and ultimately reaches the fertile tract where the water spreads itself over carefully-terraced fields.
Whether it was the bright surroundings or the historical interests associated with the place, the sight of the walls of Tashkurghan rising higher and higher above the flat filled me with emotion. I knew that they did not hide imposing structures or special comforts. Yet they marked the com- pletion of a considerable part of my journey and my entry upon the ground which was to occupy my researches. The swollen state of the river prevented the use of the nearest route, and I had to descend almost to the foot of the spur which projects into the valley below Tashkurghan from the eastern range, before a practicable ford was reached. Even here, where the river spreads in about half a dozen branches over the flat meadow land, the crossing was no easy matter, For the water reached almost up to the saddles, and flowed with great rapidity. At last, however, though wet to the
70 ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR [cuap. Iv.
waist, we got safely across, and leaving the care of the baggage to the village headmen who had assisted me in the passage, I gallopped over the rich meadows towards the foot of the cliffs on which the fort stands.
M. Sher Muhammad awaited me near the comfortable Kirghiz ‘ Yurt’ (felt hut), once belonging to Major F. E. Younghusband, which he had pitched for my accommodation, and which in the meantime had proved useful for my fellow- traveller of the previous days. The news that the Chinese Amban of the Sarikol district raised no objection to my proceeding westwards of Muztagh-Ata was a welcome piece of intelligence. Less so that Mr. Macartney’s Dak for Gilgit, with which I had hoped to post my Europe mail, had already started by the route on the left river-bank, and had consequently missed me. Fortunately it is easier to rectify such postal mishaps in Central Asia than in civilised Europe, and after an evening busily spent in writing, a special messenger rode off with my own mail bag, which was to catch up the Dak courier before he had started from his first night’s quarters.
CHINESE FORT WITHIN RUINED TOWN OF TASHKURGHAN.
CHAPTER V IN SARIKOL
THe 8th of July and the day following were given up to a halt at Tashkurghan. ‘There were not only fresh supplies and transport to be arranged for, but also much information to be collected on points of historical and archzeological interest. For Tashkurghan, the chief place of the mountain tract known as Sarikol, is undoubtedly a site of considerable antiquity. Its importance reaches back to the days when the traders from the classical West exchanged here their goods for the produce of ancient China. As far as local observations go, everything tends to support the view first expressed by Sir Henry Rawlinson, that Tash-kurghan, “‘the Stone Tower,”
retains the position as well as the name of the Affwoe ripyoc, 71
72 IN SARIKOL [CHAP. V.
which Ptolemy, and before him the great geographer, Marinus of Tyre, knew as the emporium on the extreme western frontier of Serike, i.c., the Central Chinese Dominions. Nature itself has marked the site not only as the administra- tive centre for the valleys forming the Sarikol region, but also as the most convenient place for trade exchange on an ancient and once important route connecting great portions of Central Asia with the far West and East. From Tashkurghan the road lies open equally to Kashgar and Khotan, and thus to both the great routes which lead from Turkestan into the interior of China. Here also the two best lines of communi- cation across the Pamir converge. The Taghdumbash Valley, giving direct access to the Upper Oxus, is met by the route which crosses by the Naiza-Tash Pass into the Aksu Valley and thence by the Great Pamir leads down to Shighnan and Badakhshan.
At Tashkurghan I had the satisfaction of finding myself once more on the track of Hiuen-Tsiang, the great Chinese pilgrim, whose footsteps I had traced to so many a sacred Buddhist site of ancient India. Travelling about a.p. 649 from Badakhshan to Khotan, he passed through the district of Kie-pan-to, long ago identified by Sir Henry Yule as the modern Sarikol. Examining on the spot the description he and. the earlier Chinese pilgrim, Sung-yun (cire. 500 A.D.), give of the old capital of that territory, | found it to agree most closely with the position and remains of Tashkurghan. The ruined town, within which the modern Chinese fort is built, ‘rests on a great rocky crag and is backed by the river Sita’ (i.¢., the Taghdumbash branch of the Yarkand River), on the East, exactly as the pilgrims describe it.
A line of massive but crumbling stone walls crowns the edges of a quadrangular plateau of conglomerate cliffs, roughly one- third of a mile in length on each of its faces. A small portion of the area thus enclosed, on the east side facing the river, is occupied by the Chinese fort. Its high and carefully plastered
CHAP. V.] RUINS OF TASHKURGHAN 73
walls of sun-dried bricks stand undoubtedly on far more ancient foundations. Outside them now all is silence and desolation. The rubble-built dwellings, whose ruins fill part of the area, were tenanted as long as the insecure condition of the valley made it impossible for the scanty cultivators to live near their fields. Since peace has come to Sarikol new villages have sprung up near all the cultivated patches of land, and the stronghold has become deserted. When the earthquake of 1895 shook down most of the dwellings, there was no need to rebuild them. The walls of the town had already suffered by earlier earthquakes, and show in many places wide gaps as if they had been breached. Rebuilt undoubtedly again and again after successive periods of neglect, and always of unhewn stone, they cannot afford any distinct criterion of age. But the high mounds of débris over which the extant wails rise, in some places to a height of over 25 feet, show plainly that these fortifications mark the lines of far more ancient ones.
In order to prove my identification of these and other old remains, such as that of a ruined Stupa, just beyond the north wall, an exact survey of the site was essential. To make it required some diplomatic caution, as the Chinese commandant or his subordinates might easily have mistaken its object. M. Sher Muhammad’s local experience obviated any trouble on this score. After I had gone over the site with the Sub-Surveyor in an apparently casual fashion, we waited with the surveying until the hours after midday, when the whole garrison is wont to take its siesta. When the work continued beyond this safe period, the clever diplomatist went to see the Amban and so skilfully occupied his attention with various representations concerning my journey that he and his underlings had no time to grow suspicious about the work around their stronghold.
What I saw of the Celestial soldiery quartered at this frontier station, showed them as peaceful gardeners or harm-
1G: IN SARIKOL [CHAP. Vv.
less idlers. One or two of the soldiers, clad in blue cotton fabrics, were loitering about my camp to satisfy their curiosity. Neither Persian, Turki, nor Wakhi could draw any conversa- tion from them. According to the Munshi’s statement scarcely any of the men, who have now passed close upon eight years in the district, have even an elementary knowledge of the language spoken around them. Considering that the same observation holds good of the few officials, and that the military force at their disposal is really insignificant, the order maintained by the Chinese administration appeared truly admirable. The success may largely be due to the wise arrangement by which all local affairs are left in the hands of local chiefs and headmen. Taxation in these frontier districts is very light, and as the Chinese are anything but exacting masters the people seemed perfectly contented. Facts like these make one appreciate the power which an ancient culture and the political wisdom resulting from many centuries’ experience give to the Chinese administration even in these days of apparent political dissolution.
The Amban had just returned from leave in Kashgar in a somewhat ailing condition, and as it seemed doubtful whether he would be able to make the return call demanded by etiquette during the short time available, I had by the Munshi’s advice to forego my intended visit, however much I should have liked to profit by the first opportunity to see something of the representatives of the Imperial power. All the local dignitaries, with Karim Beg, the chief of Sarikol, at their head, came, however, to pay their respects, and with M. Sher Muhammad’s assistance the little Durbar in my ‘ Kirgha’ or Yurt proved quite a success. The Begs told much that helped me to understand the former condition of Sarikol and the curiously mixed aspect of its population. Among the better-class people it seems difficult to trace any whose families are indigenous to the soil. Some are descended from Wakhi immigrants ; a few from Chitrali and Kanjuti refugees ; more
CHAP. V.] PEOPLE OF SARIKOL 75
numerous are those who have come from Shighnan. — It seems that Sarikol, exposed to inroads from all sides, has been a kind of happy hunting ground for adventurous spirits of the neighbouring tracts who for one reason or the other found their own valleys too hot for them. This curious mixture is reflected in the polyglot faculties of the people, who seem all more or less familiar with Sarikoli, closely akin to Wakhi, as well as with Persian and Turki.
M. Sher Muhammad had done his best to explain that I was no ‘Hakim.’ All the same, the applications for medicines from among my visitors were numerous. I could in conscience do nothing for the aged relative of one of the Begs, whose eyesight had grown dim with his burden of years. Still less was there a remedy in my little medicine-case for the initial stage of leprosy from which the youthful son ot another Beg manifestly suffered. ‘‘ Tabloids ” of a sufficiently harmless kind had nevertheless to be prescribed, and as these would not be considered sufficiently efficacious without strin- gent orders as to diet, &c., I found myself compelled to add verbal prescriptions also on matters of my patient’s daily life, which lay quite beyond my ken. Spells, if I could have offered them, would undoubtedly have been still more appreciated.
On the 10th of July I was able to continue my journey, all arrangements for transport and such supplies as the place could offer having been completed. The valley, fully 10,000 feet. above the sea, grows only oats and pulse. Vegetables there were none to be had. M. Sher Muhammad, with due forethought of the inhospitable region before me, had all the hamlets ransacked for eggs, and succeeded in furnishing my ‘chef,’ Sadak Akhun, with three score of them. This requisition had evidently exhausted local resources ; for before I started I was very politely, and with many excuses, asked to favour the Amban with half a dozen of these precious eggs, as they were urgently wanted for making up a medicine! Of course, I felt happy to oblige that dignitary.
76 IN SARIKOL [CHAP. V.
My route took me first for about three miles down the left bank of the river to the fortified village of Tiznaf. There my attention was attracted by a large cemetery with a number of mud-built domes (Gumbaz), of which the photo- graph reproduced here gives a view. A short distance further down the Taghdumbash River turns to the east and enters
IN THE CEMETERY OF TIZNAF.
the narrow gorge of Shindah, by which it has forced its way through the meridional range. All the mountains around looked bleak and bare of vegetation, forming a striking con- trast to the green fields and meadows of the riverine flat.
The winter route along the Tagharma-su, which joins the Taghdumbash River from the west slopes of Muztagh-Ata, was closed by the depth of the water. So we had to turn off from
CHAP. V. | PLAIN OF TAGHARMA ih
Tiznaf to the North-West, and make for a low pass over the spur which descends in the angle formed by the two rivers. From the top of the Shush or Kum-Dawan (‘‘the Sandy Pass”), though it scarcely exceeds 12,000 feet in height, there opened an extensive view over the Tashkurghan Valley southwards. The distant snowy peaks, half-enveloped in clouds, which rose behind it in the South, were the last glimpse I had of the border of India. The view to the North was still more exten- sive. The great mass of Muztagh-Ata, with its mantle of ice, rose up clearly from the broad valleys which encircle its base on the west and south. Imposing as the great mountain looks from its mass and its crown of glaciers, it did not seem to me from this distance to equal in grandeur and picturesque form those mountain giants of the Himalaya I had seen, Nangaparbat, Mount Godwin Austen (‘‘ K.2”’), Rakiposhi, still less Kinchanjanga. The fact that the relative elevation of the highest dome of Muztagh-Ata above the broad, undulating plain of Tagharma at its southern foot is only about 14,000 feet, largely accounts for this;. equally, perhaps, also the absence of boldness in its form, and the great height of the permanent snow-line which towards the south does not seem to reach down much below 17,000 feet. .
After the world of soaring peaks, glaciers, and deep gorges, through which the way from India had taken me, I felt it difficult to believe myself still in an Alpine world in view of the broad, rolling plains before me and of the low-looking ranges which fringe them towards the Pamir. It was a novel type of mountain scenery that greeted me, and I confess it looked somewhat tame by the side of the views which have indelibly impressed themselves on my memory between Kashmir and the Taghdumbash. A descent of about one thousand feet brought me to the irrigated fields of Tagharma, which were clothed in the fresh green of young shoots of oats and barley. Without raising one’s eyes to Muztagh-Ata I might have thought myself on the steppe of
78 IN SARIKOL [CHAP. V.
some northern region. The felt-covered Kirghas scattered over the plain did not dispel this impression; the yaks contentedly grazing on the young grass of the meadows were the sole feature suggestive of the high elevation at which we still moved. Safsgos, where I encamped for the night, is one of the small Sarikoli summer settlements spread over the Tagharma plain. The inhabitants of the three Kirghas, as far as I could see them, the men and children, were all singularly good-looking. Milk and delicious cream were obtainable in plenty.
On the morning of July 11th the air was comparatively still and warm, and only the highest parts of Muztagh-Ata were enveloped in clouds. Riding along the open grassy plain I enjoyed distant views, both to the East and West. In the latter direction the passes of Ghulan, Sarik-tash, and Berjash (or Berdasht), all leading across the range into Russian territory, came consecutively into view. Though snow-covered on the highest shoulders over which they pass, these routes are all evidently easy enough at this season. Near the small hamlet of Sarala, where Sarikolis carry on some cultivation, we passed a little Chinese post, enclosed by loopholed mud walls. It is intended to maintain some control over the small detachments of Sarikoli levies (‘ Karaulchi,’ as they are called) which guard the approaches from the Russian side.
After Sarala cultivation ceased, and the irrigated grassy ground became more and more cut up by patches of sandy soil scantily covered with hardy herbs. The few Yirts we now passed were tenanted by squalid-looking but jovial Kirghiz herdsmen. After Kukyar the route enters a broad stony nullah, enclosed Kast and West by low walls of con- glomerate, which looked like remains of ancient moraines. Above them to the east towered the snow-capped heights of a great spur known as Karakorum, which projects from Muztagh-Ata southwards. By noon a strong wind began to blow down from the north, and I was glad to reach the little
CHAP. V. | KIRGHIZ HERDSMEN 79
Kirghiz settlement of Ghujak, which offered a suitable place for camping. The wind brought light rain soon after the tents were pitched, and as the temperature descended rapidly I was glad to get again into my fur coat, discarded since our entry into the open Sarikol Valleys. The hypsometer showed an elevation of about 11,600 feet.
The next day’s march was to be a short one, and accordingly I utilized the morning to ascend with Ram Singh to the top of the steep spur of conglomerate which rose immediately to the East in front of the Karakorum peaks. Light clouds, foreboding a change in the weather, had settled everywhere around the higher ranges. But the view over the great Tagharma Valley, and far beyond it to the peaks South-East of Tashkurghan, was unobstructed, and the plane table work benefited no little by this excursion. To the North, unfortu- nately, Muztagh-Ata, with its glaciers, hid itself in a thick veil of mist and cloud. After descending again to our last camping-place we resumed the route to the North. A little beyond I passed the mouth of a narrow side valley running to the west, known as Khayindi. It contains a little Mazar or shrine much frequented by the Kirghiz who graze around Muztagh-Ata. A little heap of stones on the road, adorned with horns of Ovis Poli and the wild goat, and a few sticks bedecked with rags of various hues, direct the attention of the wayfarer to the neighbouring shrine. The bits of rag, as throughout the hills of northern India, mark the ex-voto offerings of those who have turned to the saint for help in sickness or some other trouble.
A ride of a little over two hours along the gradually diminish- ing stream, and between gently sloping ridges of disintegrated rock and gravel, brought me to Kara-su. There I found a small post, or ‘ Karaul,’ enclosed by loopholed mud walls, and my servants comfortably established in the few huts built inside. The garrison, the last on this side subject to the authority of the Tashkurghan Amban, consisted at the time
80 IN SARIKOL [CHAP. V.
of just three men. Considering that the ramparts of the post are commanded by the rising ground to the West within a hundred yards, the defensive purpose seems to have been less in the mind of those who built it, than the wish to secure a wind-sheltered corner for the garrison. Immediately to the South-West a series of broad, undulating downs leads up to the Kulma Pass, apparently the easiest of all routes which cross the watershed into the valley of the Aksu. A Kirghiz whom I met riding on a heavily-laden pony, some miles below Karasu, had left the Russian outpost on the other side of the pass that very morning.
The meadows round Karasu were carpeted with the few varieties of red and white flowers which had greeted me on the Taghdumbash ; else, the scenery looked gloomy enough, for the clouds were hanging still lower than in the morning. The hypsometer gave the elevation as 12,100 feet. Next morning, the 13th of July, the temperature was not as low as [ expected, being 46° F. at 6.80 a.m., but the air. was full of mist and rain threatened. TI left the Sub-Surveyor behind to wait for better weather to continue his work, and marched off by 9a.m. The ponies seemed to have a presentiment of the bad time before them and gave trouble when their loads were being packed. One of them managed to knock off my travel- ling bookcase with such impetus that its internal fittings were rudely dislocated. Soon after marching off a violent blast from the pass before us brought icy rain and sleet, and, driving it right into our faces, made progress both slow and disagreeable. As far as I could see the road led between low, bare ridges by the side of a little brook, the head-waters of the Tagharma-su. As, after two hours’ marching, we were nearing the summit of the pass, the Ulugh-Rabat (‘‘ High Station ’’), the rain stopped a little, and soon it was noticeable that this bleak upland was not altogether untenanted. The shrill, whistling voices of the Himalayan marmots were heard all round, and more than half a dozen of these brown guardians
cHar.v.] CHINESE AT SUBASHI 81
of the passes, so well known to me from beyond Kashmir, could be seen sitting, with seeming unconcern, on the little mounds over their holes. At 11.30 a.m. I reached the pass, which seems to be only a slight depression in a broad transverse ridge connecting the Muztagh-Ata massive with the so-called Sarikoli range, the eastern brim of the Russian Pamirs. The pass, a little over 14,000 feet above the sea, is marked by a stone heap, the traditional resting-place of some saint. Popular lore about mountain passes does not seem to differ much northwards of the great Himalayan watershed from what I know it to be on the other side. Heavy mist on right and left prevented a view of the higher ranges, but just in front to the North I could look down into the open, flat valley which descends to Subashi and the Little Karakul Lake. I had not far advanced on the small spur over which the path leads steeply down- wards, when icy-cold rain, mixed with snow, began to come down again. It was far heavier than before, and by the time I passed the first Aul (herdsmen’s camp), called Ieriky6k at the bottom of the hill amphitheatre, I felt nearly drenched. However, there was little hope of the weather getting better, and I therefore deeined it best to push on to Su-bashi (‘‘ Head of the Waters’’), the Chinese post in the valley, where better shelter and supplies could be expected. In the drizzling rain I passed some half-decayed Kirghiz graveyards and a stone- built Gumbaz, evidently the remains of some older structure. At last, by 2 p.m., the Chinese post came in view, and with heartfelt gratitude I greeted its shelter. Inside a neglected stone enclosure I found, besides a number of tumble- down buildings, a row of mud-built huts, representing the quarters of the garrison. The latter soon emerged in its full streneth of eight men, and their commandant, a sort of corporal, hospitably invited me to his state-room. It was, in truth, a poor enough hovel, lighted by a hole in the roof
which, closed on account of the rain, admitted only a dim 7
82 IN SARIKOL [CHAP. V.
twilight. However, it was dry and warm and it felt cheerful amid the felts and quaint articles of equipment which covered the raised sleeping platform and the walls. A fire was lit under the hole already mentioned, but its smoke drove me into the interior apartment adjoining, long before the tea was ready which it was to warm. Perhaps my little terrier felt happiest, who, shivering with cold and wet, could scarcely wait for the host’s good-natured invitation to bury himself in
CHINESE GARRISON OF SUBASHI.
the bundle of quilts marking the bed in one corner of the platform. That he met there a little pet cat without picking a quarrel with it was the surest proof of his usual temper having softened under the influence of exposure.
Whether it was the hospitable reception they gave me or their neat look and get-up, the little Chinese garrison made by no means a bad impression on me. The men were mostly big, well-set fellows, talking Turki more or less fluently, and seemed intelligent enough. When the rain stopped they
CHAP. V.] ARRIVAL AT KARAKUL 83
turned out to be photographed in their parade dress—blue velvet trousers, red cloth tunics, with Chinese letters in black velvet sewn on them, and neat black felt boots. All these articles were in good order, less so their Enfield carbines bearing the ‘‘ Tower”? mark. In the meantime the news of my arrival had been sent on to Karm Shah Beg, the chief of the Kirghiz herdsmen in the valley North of the Ulugh-Rabat, who duly came to weleome me. As the rain had stopped I moved my baggage down two miles from the post of Subashi to where his Kirghas stood. One of them was readily vacated for the accommodation of my servants, while a short break in the rain sufficed for pitching my tent on a dry, sandy spot by the side of one of the numerous branches by which the stream of the Subashi Valley finds its way down to the Karakul Lake. The glittering surface of the latter, one and a half miles further North, could just be seen from my camp.
MUZTAGH-ATA PEAKS SEEN FROM ABOVE YAMBULAK VALLEY.
CHAPTER VI ON MUZTAGH-ATA
Tue 14th of July brought no change in the weather, and was by. necessity a day of repose. I used it to collect information as to my intended excursion up the western slopes of Muztagh- Ata and to pay off the Sarikolis who had so far supplied my transport. Previously, however, I took the opportunity of effecting anthropometric measurements on them. After Shams Beg, the Yiiz-bashi (‘‘ Head of a Hundred ”’), who had escorted me from Tashkurghan, had set the example, they readily sub- mitted to the various operations, each victim in turn affording amusement to his companions.
In the afternoon the rain grew less, and I rode out with Karm Shah Beg to pay a short visit to the Little Kara-kul and the neighbouring tarns of Basik-kul. The detailed descriptions of Dr. Sven Hedin, who studied these little lakes for weeks and with loving interest, have made the readers: of his work fully familiar with all aspects of the neighbourhood. Riding round the West shore of Karakul I had a full view of the
erand moraine which borders the lower edge of the lake and 84
CHAP. VI.| LITTLE KARAKUL LAKE 85
a
originally caused its formation. Above it only a mass of cloud indicated the high range which closes the valley to the North-East. The bleakness of the hills which rise on the West to a height of about four or five thousand feet above the lake and the low mounds of old moraines stretching along the shore, under the grey sky gave a desolate, sombre look to the little lake. As the glaciers of Muztagh-Ata kept wholly invisible, this impression was not relieved by the grandeur of the more distant surroundings. Mournful, too, looked the still smaller Basikkul basins and wild the confusion of ice-ground mounds of rock and detritus which ancient moraines have left in the narrow space between them. It was evident that the icy splendour of the great range east- wards is required to give to this group of little lakes its true Alpine beauty.
I returned by the East shore of Karakul, past the little bay where Dr. Sven Hedin’s camp had been pitched. Considering how long he stopped in the neighbourhood, and how closely acquainted he became with the Kirghiz then encamped there, I was surprised how little my guides could tell me of this distinguished visitor. But the nomadic ways of the Kirghiz fully explain this scant recollection. The families then grazing around Muztagh-Ata have wandered elsewhere. Togdasin Beg, Dr. Hedin’s friend, has since died far away on the Russian Pamir, and the other companions of his excursions in these mountains seem also to have scattered to other grazing-grounds. It was instructive evidence how little local tradition can be expected among the wandering tribes that frequent these valleys. The path back to camp took me along the cliffs which run down into the lake from Kara-kir (‘‘ Black Ridge’), a bleak height of dark rock rising immediately to the Kast. of it. As soon as camp was reached at six o'clock the rain began to pour heavily again. It plainly meant snow in the higher region and consequent delay in my excursions. My diary entries for July 15th,
86 ON MUZTAGH-ATA [CHAP. VI.
which I here transcribe, show that I had not been mistaken in my apprehension.
“Tt rained and snowed through the whole night, and mist and grey, drizzling rain covered what little I could see of the valley when I got up. There was nothing for it but to sit in the tent and write up notes and letters that were to go down to Tashkurghan to catch the next Dak for India and Europe. Karm Shah Beg came to pay his respects and to sit in happy disregard of time and weather under the little awning in front of my tent, but what I could elicit from him as to the arrangements for my further journey was far from cheerful. It was easy to notice that the want of instructions from the Chinese at Bulunkul was sorely disturbing his peace of mind. In a tone intended to convey a sense of mystery and secret devotion, he assured me that he was ready to render any service—if it were not for the distrustful Chinese. To give me yaks and men for my intended visit to the Yambulak Glacier and the slopes of Muztagh was a thing he could do in safety. But to supply animals for a move to Kashgar might bring down upon him the wrath of the Amban. Eyen to send a few yaks to my last camp at Karasu for the baggage of the Sub-Surveyor, who was to join me, seemed an act of grave risk. The Beg’s faltering excuses gave me a good idea of how well the Chinese manage to keep their roving Kirghiz in hand, but equally little hope of the help I needed for my immediate movements. I accordingly sent the Sarikoli Beg, who had come with me from Tashkurghan, back to Karasu with orders to provide there locally for the transport needed by Ram Singh. At the same time I got Karm Shah Beg to despatch a messenger to Bulunkul who was to show to the Amban the local passport issued to me by his Tashkurghan colleague and to bring back orders for my Kirghiz host.
‘‘Tn the afternoon the clouds lifted a little and showed the mountain slopes down to a few hundred feet above the level of the valley clad in fresh snow. No encouraging prospect
CHAP, VI.] KIRGHIZ HOSPITALITY 87
for my Muztagh-Ata excursion, which if to be made at all must be made within the next few days! I used the short interval when the rain stopped in the evening for a visit to the Beg’s Yurt. He seemed to appreciate the compliment, ~and whatever doubts he may feel as to the results of any assistance he may render me, they did not interfere with a display of cordial hospitality. In the middle of the Yiut a big cauldron (‘ Kazan’) of milk was boiling over the fire. One of the Beg’s wives, no longer young, but of a pleasing expression and cleanly dressed, was attending to the fire of dwarf juniper (‘'Teresken ’).
“While the dish was getting ready, I had time to look about and to examine the homestead. Comfortable it looked in contrast to the misty, grey plain outside. The wicker- work sides and the spherical top of the Yiirt are covered with coloured felts, which are held in position by broad bands of neatly-embroidered wool. All round the foot of the circular wall lie bundles of felt rugs and bags of spare clothes, evidently stored for a more rigorous season. A screen of reeds, covered with woollen thread worked in delicate colours and bold but pleasing pattern, separated a little segment of the Yiirt ap- parently reserved for the lady of the house, who again and again dived into it, to return with cups and other more precious implements. The floor all round, except in the centre where the fire blazed, was covered with felts and thick rugs made of yak’s hair; for my special accommodation a gay-coloured Andijan carpet was spread on one side. The warm milk, which was offered from the cauldron by the presiding matron, tasted sweet and rich. I had it presented in a large Chinese cup, while the rest of the company, which comprised over a dozen of the Beg’s male relatives and neighbours, helped themselves from a number of bowls in wood and iron. Milk is a staple article of food with the Kirghiz, and the healthy look of the men around me, young and old, showed how well it agrees with them.
88 ON MUZTAGH-ATA [CHAP. VI.
‘Towards the end of my visit Karm Shah Beg produced a big sheep that I was to accept as a token of hospitality and goodwill. I should gladly have taken a smaller one, since for weeks past I had occasion to notice that the sheep which my men selected for purchase were as distinguished for toughness as for size. Karm Shah Beg, however, had different notions on this point, and was not to be denied. So I consoled myself with the thought that at least there would be satisfaction among my men. The Kirghiz are a matter-of-fact people, with a keen eye for money. Hence I did not fail to assure my host that his present would be returned by more than its equivalent in value before I left the valley.
‘Late in the evening, as I was comfortably settled in my tent and busy writing, Karm Shah Beg turned up with a triumphant mien to announce the arrival of a Chinese officer from Bulunkul who had brought orders to supply me with transport. It was clear that a great load had been taken from the Beg’s mind. Glad as I was for this early settlement of the question, I thought it right to treat the news as a mere matter of course. I could not have expected it otherwise ! Karm Shah Beg was accordingly told to keep his Chinaman and the message he was to deliver until I should find it convenient to receive them on the morrow.”
The night brought at last a change in the weather, and when on